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leennaan · 3 months

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Alessia Russo // Take on the world pt2

Here it is. Part two of „Take on the world“

Pt1 can be found here

Warnings: mentions of death and mental health problems. It’s not very detailed but it is mentioned so if that triggers you don’t read it. Take care of yourself.

With that being said, enjoy reading💕

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A few weeks had gone by since Alessia and Lotte had left the states, but the Corona situation had only worsened since then.

You left Chaphill a week after the two English girls to go back to your family in New York.

Alessia and you called each other daily. Sometimes you called her in the morning, and you would make breakfast for yourself and your little sister while she ate lunch or did her exercises. Sometimes it would already be night in England, and you would talk about your day while the blonde would just listen to you until she fell asleep.

The distance was hard for you both, as you were used to being in close proximity 24/7, but you managed.

But it got harder and harder when your girlfriend called you less and less. When you did talk to each other, you could sense that something was wrong, but you didn’t want to pressure Lessi.

When Alessia hadn’t talked to you in over two days with not even a text, you got worried.

You were scared that you had done anything. That she didn’t love you anymore. But also, maybe something had happened. Whenever the two of you talked, she looked drained with swollen and red-rimmed eyes. She looked like she had cried a lot, and it made you sick that you didn’t know what had happened to her.

So on the second day, she hadn’t called or answered your text, so you decided to call Lotte.

„Hey Y/N. What happened? You look like you cried."

Lotte had answered the second you dialed her number.

A son escaped your lips, and Lotte was instantly concerned.

„Calm down. Talk to me. What’s going on?"

„Lessi, she, I think she, she wants to break up with me."

You sobbed.

„Lessi wants what? Why would you say that? That girl is heads over heels in love with you.“

Lotte looked at you like you had lost your head or something. A few days ago, you would have believed her in an instant, but now you're not so sure.

"She hasn’t called me or answered my text in the last two days. That’s so unlike her. She called me even two or three times a day not many days ago, and then it got less and less, and the texts got shorter and shorter, and now she stopped altogether.“

You explained to Lotte, who looked more and more worried.

„Y/n I don’t think that that has anything to do with you. She hasn’t talked to me either, and the last time we talked, she looked so tired and sad."

Now you felt really bad. You had noticed that something was up with your girlfriend, but instead of trying to help her, you got stuck in your own head.

"You are right, Lotts. She looked like she had cried a lot when we last talked.“

„You know what? I will drive over tomorrow and look at how she is doing. I call you when I know more."

„Thank you, Lotts. I feel so stupid. I should have released that something wasn’t right. I wish I was with you guys. I want to help Lessi, but I feel like I am too far away.“

It took you a few hours to comprehend what Lotte had said.

You really felt dumb. The way you noticed her red and swollen eyes, her small voice when she talked, the way she seemed to be miles away—never once had you thought about why she was like that. Your mind had gone straight to thinking she would break up with you.

Now angry at yourself, you threw your mobile phone across the room, only to scramble to your feet and quickly make your way over to it when it started ringing.

You looked at your screen, which read “star girl." Stunned, you looked at the clock. It was around 3 a.m. in the morning in London. Now concerned about Alessia, you quickly accepted the face-time call.

You could barely make Alessia out in the darkness of her room, but you could definitely hear her sniffling.

“Lessi Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned, but she didn’t answer you.

"Baby, you scare me. You can talk to me; you know that, right?” It was silent for a few seconds, but it felt like hours until the blonde quietly started to talk.

"He, he is gone, Y/N."

Immediately, your heart sank. "They said he was better; they said he would be released soon. I don’t know what to do; y/n, he is gone.“

You watched as Alessia started to cry, and you wished nothing more than to be there with her. To be able to hold her. You knew she was talking about her grandpa. The situation in Italy was still tense. A lot of people were dying because of COVID, but until now, no one close to you was affected. Now that had changed, and you couldn’t imagine how Alessia must feel.

„Baby I am so sorry. I wish I could hold you. Is there anything I can do for you?“ You asked, now hating this whole situation even more.

Alessia's blue eyes were chiming with tears, and you had to fight back your own. Seeing Alessia like this broke you.

„Can you just talk to me? I haven’t slept since yesterday, when we got the call. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face."

„Of course I can. Anything specific?“ Your girlfriend shook her head.

„My parents are thinking of adopting a dog. They said that with me and also my sister going to college next year, they will be lonely. I felt betrayed that now that I am out of the house, they want a dog. You know I wanted one since I was little.“

And so you talked to her for the next few hours. Here and there, Alessia would hum or nod her head at you to show that she was listening. Slowly, you noticed her eyelids dropping and watched her fall into a restless sleep.

You stayed on the phone even after she fell asleep. As you watched her, a lone tear made its way down your cheek.

A few hours later, you woke up feeling slightly disoriented. You grabbed your phone from where it lay next to you.

Alessia had sent you a thank-you text and had wished you a good day.

That’s how the next few days went. At first, Alessia called you after she couldn’t fall asleep for hours, but you couldn’t see her struggling even more, so you started to call her around six p.m. London time. Often, Alessia just wanted to hear your voice, and you obliged, telling her about your day. One day you even played on your guitar after what felt like years. You started playing when you were little, but it got less and less in recent years. Now you were singing for her songs that you thought she liked or that she requested.

She didn’t know that you could play or sing, but she loved it, and so did you.

It kind of got therapeutic for you too, and slowly you started playing for yourself again, even when you were not talking to Alessia.

When the summer neared, you got increasingly excited.

Alessia was feeling better; at least that was what she told you.

You could still see the pain in her eyes, and you knew that she wasn’t as well as she said, but she was slowly getting there. Her smiles became more real again, and you knew she slept better because the begs under her eyes got less prominent.

Around early June, you went back to campus, and this time you took your guitar with you.

Over the last few weeks, you even started to write little songs. Nothing was good in your opinion, but it helped you sort out your thoughts.

Alessia and Lotte called you one afternoon when you were sitting in your dorm room with your guitar in hand, and they were both really buzzing. You felt the good energy as soon as you accepted the call.

„We are coming back!“ Was the first thing that Allesia shouted.

„Wait what?“ You asked, perplexed.

„Yes, we just booked our flight for next week. The restrictions aren’t as bad as before, and we want to get back as soon as possible. I know Blondie over here has missed you an awful lot, but I missed you almost as much," answered Lotte, and you couldn’t help the big grin that spread over your face when Alessia punched Lotte lightly on the shoulder.

„No way, guys, I am so excited. When are you back? I’ll pick you up from the airport. I can’t believe it. I missed you both. Campus and everything just isn’t the same without you Brits.“ You laughed.

That’s how you found yourself in the airport in North Carolina only five days later, impatiently waiting for the two girls to arrive.

And with almost one and a half hours of delay, they landed. As soon as you saw Alessia, you couldn’t help yourself, and you sprinted right into her arms. She had dropped her luggage to be able to hoist you up into her arms. You wrapped your legs around her waist, clinging to her like a koala.

„Oh how I have missed you." Whispered Lessi into your ear, not letting go of you. You answered by kissing her. It felt so good to have her lips on yours again.

After what felt like hours but in reality were only a few seconds, Lotte interrupted you two. „I know you guys love each other and missed each other so much, but I also missed you. Can I at least get a hug?“

Both Lessi and you couldn’t help but laugh before your girlfriend let you down, and you hugged Lotte. „I missed you too, Lotts.“

The next few weeks were the best you had for a while. Being able to spend time with your girlfriend made you extremely happy, and you could see that Alessia was feeling better too.

Of course, there were days when she was feeling down, but being able to just hug you was enough to make her better.

On days she was feeling especially down, you would get out your guitar and play something for her. You even taught her a few accords.

But soon you noticed that not all things were back to perfect.

At training, there was uncertainty about stuff and players. No one knew what the season would bring.

It wasn’t decided whether the games would be held as normal or if there would even be a college cup.

Training was hard if no one knew what they trained for.

You noticed that Lotte and Alessia were not happy with the situation.

„When we don’t have games, we are losing our opportunities.“ Said Lotte one evening when you were sitting together with the whole team. Of course, she was right. Without games to watch for national or club coaches, they would lose their spot on the national team and chances for a professional contract after college.

„I talked with the guffer today. He said he has no idea what’s going to happen this season. I also asked my brother what I should do. He recommended looking for offers back in England.“ Said Alessia while she was cuddled by your side. You didn’t want the girls to leave again, but you knew the situation would probably be the best. „What about you guys? Do you consider playing outside the U.S.?“ asked Lois. You watched as your friends answered. „I don’t know. My dream was always to play in the NWSL. It doesn’t really matter to me anyway. I‘ve got two years of college left, and my mother would literally disown me if I dropped out.“ The fact that you were a year younger than most of your close friends and girlfriend just hit you. Knowing that you would be left behind for a year even without this whole Corona thing going on.

Alessia noticed that your mind was starting to wander. Your habit of overthinking is getting the better of you again. So you hadn’t noticed her standing up. Only once did she pull you towards her, carefully maneuvering you out of the room.

„Baby breath. Breath. I am here. Follow my breathing. That’s it, baby. Slowly. Yes. There you are.“ Slowly, your breathing settled down.

„I don’t want you to leave. Not again.“ You whispered, and Alessia pulled you against her. Wrapping her strong arms around your body. „No matter what. I'll always love you. I know it was hard for us both, but we can do it again. I will visit whenever I can, and I promise you I will always be one call away. I know it may not seem like this right now, but I know for sure that you and I are forever.“ She kissed you hard, like a promise.

Your eyes were still closed when she pulled away slightly.

„I know we are still young…“ You felt her move away from your body and watched her get a jewelry box out. You opened your mouth, but she interrupted you. "Don't worry, I am not proposing. At least not yet.“ You couldn’t help but chuckle.

"It's a promise ring. I promise that I will never desert you. I promise that one day I will go down on that knee. A promise of a future together. "I promise that even though there might be thousands of kilometers between us, I will always be there for you.“ Tears streamed down your face as you watched her. Heart racing, you put your hand out for her to put the ring on your finger. „Not yet, baby. There is something on the inside I want you to look at."

Carefully, you grabbed the ring. Written in cursive were the words ‚We will take on the world‘ a sentence that both of you had repeatedly said to each other.

„I love you so much.“ You said this, grabbing her face with your hands and kissing her hard.

———————————————————————

I am already working on Pt 3 which will also be the final part

Always open to feedback ☺️

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso #unc tar heels #unc Reader #alessia russo #lotte wubben moy #woso x reader #Tar Heels #woso imagine

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steviewashere · 1 month

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#50 just make it hurt/comfort and really angsty and sad (I’m clearly in a sad mood asking this rn 😅)

First of all, I hope you're doing better! And hopefully this suffices the ask. I got a lil' crazy with it, wrote way more than a drabble (again), but who cares?

50: Writer's preference, I chose prompts 33: "Please don't do this." and 12: "I think we need to talk."

Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Steve Harrington has Nightmares, Steve Harrington has PTSD, Steve Harrington is a Mess, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, (And Gets One!), Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Arguments, Making Up, Mild Vomiting (Like One and Done), Miscommunication

————— Eddie notices a lot about Steve. Which makes sense, they’re dating, that’s supposed to make sense. But sometimes he wishes that he didn’t have to notice. That he didn’t have to hide his glances because he could spot Steve’s heavy eye bags, or the way his shoulders have been slumping, or how high strung and tight and angry he’s becoming.

The first time he sees a change in Steve’s demeanor, they’re hanging out with all their other survived friends. In his backyard. By the pool. Except, that’s not quite right. Everybody except Steve and Nancy are hanging out at the pool. They’re on opposite sides of the yard, surveying, keeping close eyes on everyone as they move and speak and laugh. At some point, though, Nancy decides she’s had enough waiting. She leaves her post, hesitantly sits next to Robin on the edge of Steve’s pool, and lets her feet soak in the water. Her smile comes easy and her eyes grow soft, and that’s when Eddie knows she’ll be okay. But he keeps his eyes on Steve.

Sure, he should be enjoying himself. Which he is, slightly. Standing in the shallow end, leaned up against the pool wall, just letting the water kiss his scarred skin. He’s sipping on a chilled beer. Talking languidly with Dustin and Lucas and Jonathan about music and games and hobbies. Then, Dustin leaves him. Leaves the water. Strides over to Steve, face set with determination, and a pep in his step. Eddie goes quiet in the conversation, looking over his shoulder instead to where Steve is tucked near his back door. Where he’s not drinking his beer, still sealed and dripping condensation onto Steve’s bare thigh.

Dustin asks him something. Steve shakes his head. He tries offering something else, gesturing loosely with his hand at the pool and the small group that he just came from, but Steve is adamant on his decision. But of course, Dustin never takes no as an answer. He pushes. Which leads to Steve roaring: “Dustin, fuck off!”

Everybody falls silent at that. Eyes on him. Steve bristles, chucks his closed beer to the wooden porch, and disappears into his house with a slam of the door. The beer is fizzing, exploded. And then Dustin starts crying.

That’s the first time Eddie notices a change.

The next time, it’s somewhat subtle. Steve spacey at work, quiet as he shelves tapes, not even talking with Robin. He tries speaking with Steve, but only gets some non-committal grunts instead.

His last straw is an argument they’re having. Currently.

Steve’s tired, bitchier than usual, tense in his shoulders and wild-eyed. Eddie tries to stay soft, give himself a chance to remain calm and keep in mind that Steve’s going through something. But that doesn’t even begin to deter the argument.

“Listen, I think it would be good for…us—“ You, Eddie doesn’t say. “—if you let me help you out,” he’s trying to persuade. He’s standing in Steve’s kitchen. Gesturing at the pile of dishes in the sink and on the counter. Pointing out how the garbage has overflowed. And how he knows laundry hasn’t been done lately. He’s trying to be polite about it. “It’ll be like when I first got out of the hospital, okay? You just rest up and I clean up a little bit, make you something that you want to eat, and we can cuddle and watch a movie.”

However, he knows he’s hitting a brick wall over and over. None of his words are making their way through. The softness is leaking from his throat, drying him out, making him want to puke. Steve huffs through his nose. Face red, eyebrows furrowed so hard that his eyes are nearly closed with it, nose flared, and mouth downturned so extreme he nearly looks like Beaker from The Muppets. “I don’t want your help, Eddie!” Steve shouts from his spot at the dining table. He wouldn’t let Eddie come any closer. “I’m not some child, you know that?! I’m fine, I can do this on my own, and I certainly don’t need somebody like you telling me what needs to happen!”

All at once, the gentle care nukes in Eddie’s chest. Replaced instead by a hazardous anger, red hot and corroding. “What do you mean by that?” He asks bitterly. Voice flat, devoid. “Thought we were over biases, Steve,” he spits.

Steve blubbers like an out of water goldfish. “I—That—You know what I mean, Eddie. Not like—It’s just—“ he flounders. His eyes trail down towards the watch on his wrist. They grow wet, but not the tears that come from sadness. These are tears of agitation. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says wetly; the first thing that fell from his mouth when Eddie began to bring everything up. “Everything’s perfectly fine. Just got behind in house chores, which is whatever, you know? Like—“ He chuckles darkly, a self-deprecating thing, something painfully normal. “—Who the fuck actually cares about how messy everything is, right? Just leave it alone. Let’s…Let’s go cuddle,” Steve says hastily. He clambers up and out of his seat, around the table, and into the kitchen. Wrapping himself tightly around Eddie, cheek pressed to his chest, trying to pull them into the living room.

But Eddie doesn’t wrap back. He steps away. Putting distance between them. “I don’t want to do that with you right now, Steve,” he mutters. “That fucking hurt. What you said. I don’t really feel comfortable being here right now. Forget that I brought this up, okay?” He steps around Steve, who stands stunned and heartbroken in his own kitchen. Eddie’s in the doorway before Steve has the chance to reach out and touch him again. “I—I think we need to talk. But I can’t do it right now. I can’t…Why would you say that? Jesus, Steve.” And yeah, he had different intentions when coming over here. Wanted to soothe whatever was going on. Figure out how he could help. If he could help. In fact, he would’ve been fine with Steve pushing him off again, insisting on a topic change. He would’ve let it happen. But not now.

He makes sure the hurt is shown on his face before he leaves. Before he has a chance to rub his eyes and sniffle. And ignores how Steve calls out to him. He needs to calm down before he says something he might regret, something that would hurt worse than what Steve said to him.

They don’t cross paths often after that. Sometimes Eddie sees him at Family Video, but not for very long. In just to rent a tape and get out, hurt simmering unrestful in his ribcage. He can spot Steve out of the corner of his eye, reaching out, stepping in place, mouth opening and closing. But he ignores what he has to say.

Sees Steve when he drops off people for Dungeons & Dragons nights at the Wheeler’s house. But he scurries off before anything can happen. Other people start to take notice and Eddie has to shoot a warning glance with a gritted, “It’s private. I don’t want to tell you.”

Today, though, he notices Steve dropping something off at Max’s. She takes the offered thing from his grip, shuts the door softly at his back, and then Eddie finds Steve’s eyes. Hard not to notice him when he lives only a short distance away from Max’s place, but what greets him makes his stomach knot. Steve is unwell. Pale and jumpy, eyes bloodshot, his eye bags heavy and dark circles so purple—he almost looks bruised. His hands are shaking, clothes are rumpled, and his hair is…greasy, flat, knotted. Eddie puts out the cigarette he’d been smoking and walks calmly and quietly down his steps. Crossing to Steve’s bumper.

“Hey, baby,” he greets softly.

Steve startles anyway. Turning with his hand gripping tight to his door handle. Tugging on it, though it must be locked. His eyes are wide and devastating. Wet, exhausted, puffy and swollen. They’re red raw. Like he’s been crying. And rubbing at them, too. At a closer look, Steve’s cheeks are blank of any color at all, slightly gaunt. His lips are chewed to all hell. And his facial hair is wiry, outgrown. Unkempt.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, stepping closer. He places a firm hand to Steve’s left bicep, squeezing ever so gently. Runs his thumb over the taut muscle. “Can we talk inside? Let me make you a cup of tea and get you something to eat?”

He doesn’t say anything, but does release his hold on the car handle. Follows slowly to the door, but doesn’t come close to the couch where Eddie gestures to.

“You can sit on the—“

“Please don’t do this,” Steve sobs.

Immediately, Eddie comes closer into his space. Hands splayed in front of him, ready to reach out and touch and hold, but isn’t sure if that’s allowed. “What? What shouldn’t I do, Steve?” He questions. His voice quivers with concern.

“Don’t leave me, Eds,” Steve cries, rattling and shaking with it. His chest stutters. Hiccups in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry—I’m so—I didn’t mean it, I was just upset and I know that’s not okay, but I—“ Steve gags harshly, doubling over with it. Eddie rushes behind him, grabs for the waste bin, and sets it out in front of him. “—I was being an asshole and I’m sorry and I’m sorry that I hurt you and that you thought I thought bad about you, but I didn’t, I didn’t, I don’t, Eds—“ Eddie can’t even understand the rest of what he’s babbling, it’s incoherent, strung tight with snot and saliva and tears, but it renders too much. Steve finally reaches out for the trash can, hurls harshly, and drops to his knees with his grip still on the can’s lip.

Eddie crouches beside him. Hand on his back, on his forehead. Holding to him firmly, ignoring how sweaty and cold he is at once. A part of him withers at how he made things worse. It wasn’t his intention, to make Steve worry this bad, but he definitely instilled that fear. And now he needs to just glue back together what he cracked.

When Steve is able to calm down, collapsing heavily against Eddie, does he speak softly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I guess we both used our words wrong. I’m just so worried about you, I swear. This isn’t—I would never lead you on about a break up. And that’s not what this conversation is, I promise, Stevie.”

Steve sniffles noisily. He koalas himself around Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. He’s still shivering, sweaty, and weak. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“I forgive you, Steve.” He holds to Steve tightly. Crushing him in closer, not caring how it makes his back ache or his knees scuff the floor. Doesn’t care about how Steve’s tears soak through his shirt or the sure mess of snot left behind. He squeezes Steve’s back and states softly, “I’m just so upset that you think you have to be fine. That you can’t ask for help. That you have to deal with everything on your own.”

“I—“

“Please just talk to me, Steve. What’s going on? I just don’t understand where you’ve gone, you know? You’re so tired and angry and tense all the time. You don’t want to talk to anybody. You keep pushing us away, closing yourself off. But then you don’t take care of yourself,” Eddie rambles, his voice growing weak and choked. “I’m sorry that I—I don’t know how to talk about this without sounding like an asshole. I’m just worried. Worried that…That something’s terribly wrong.”

The implication of Vecna is not lost between them, if the way Steve tenses says anything.

Carefully, Steve pulls himself away. Staring wide and timid at Eddie. Before he breaks with another cry of, “Everybody keeps dying, Eds. The nightmares. They keep—I can’t sleep. I see it everywhere.”

“What do you see?” Eddie asks, voice shaking. Please don’t say that clock. Please don’t say the clock, Steve. Please, he internally pleads.

“Death,” Steve whispers. “Everywhere. In everybody. I see…Nancy drowning and Robin beaten and Max broken. I see you covered in blood with chunks of you missing and you don’t look at me, you just look over my shoulder and you’re gone by the time I find you. I just see it. I can’t—I can’t stop seeing it, Eddie.” He curls his hands tight into Eddie’s shirt, nearly ripping it off of his back. “And I’m always alone,” he hiccups. “Alone when I wake up. And so I leave, I drive around, I wait to see if anything bad happens. But I can’t sleep.”

Eddie brings a hand and swipes back at Steve’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He leans in and leaves a gentle, sticky kiss to the skin. Pulling back, he offers, “When you’re ready for bed, you find me. Call me so that I can come over. Or tell me to come get you.” He cups Steve’s face, holding him between his hands. His cheeks that are splotchy red, tacky with tears. Eyes hazel and shiny and slightly defeated, yet hopeful. Eddie tickles his thumb over the bridge of Steve’s nose, his cupid’s bow, between his eyebrows. “Stevie, baby, I never want you to think you’re alone again. Ever. Seeing you so distraught all the time was killing me, but I’m here to help. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

“But…I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself, Eds,” Steve argues quietly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie states. “You’re not supposed to be alone, not all the time. And if laying with you until you fall asleep safely, or showing you how fine everybody is, making you a sandwich or doing the dishes—Whatever, whatever helps you out, I’m willing.” He presses another soft kiss to Steve’s lips, the tip of his nose, on his forehead. Murmuring, “You helped me. It’s my turn, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Steve shrugs. “Am I supposed to just sit around?”

“You don’t have to, but you could relax. Watch a movie or do something that’s not exhausting,” Eddie explains. “Being independent, you know, doesn’t mean exerting yourself at every possible moment. Or ignoring things that bother you. Or hiding your hurt. It means seeking help, even if you do it on your own. It means sticking up for yourself, even if what’s hurting you is you.”

Against Eddie’s palms, Steve sighs through his nose. “Okay,” he mutters. “Can…Can we take a nap? I’m really tired,” Steve tentatively asks.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll find my soft pajamas for you, too.” He stands, offering out his hands for Steve. Tugs him up. And when they’re at eye level, “Steve?” Eyes on him, zeroed in and focused. “I want you to bother me. Be a nuisance. Take up space.”

“Are you sure?” Steve murmurs. “I can be a lot.”

“Loving you means loving all of you, sweetheart. Even the excess parts. Which, by the way, aren’t excess. Because I love taking care of you, despite what your brain is surely telling you,” Eddie says. “Come on, I’ll take care of that can while you lay down.”

He’s glad he noticed. But he’s happier at the sound of Steve’s soft snores, puffed over his bare neck, and the drool that will surely dry on his collarbone.

——— Drabble Prompts Ask Game

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my asks

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rafetopia · 5 months

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𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!exgf!reader, topper thornton x fem!gf!reader (only mentioned)

genre: smut & minor angst -> 18+only

warnings: smutty stuff, mentions of past toxic relationship, some soft!rafe, some mean!rafe, name calling, mentions of drugs, choking (in a non sexual way), ass slapping, cheating, unprotected sex, lmk if k forgot something

words: ~3.3k

request: okay!! i wanted to request a rafe x reader based off the song ‘why are you here’ by machine gun kelly. write it however you want🖤 (by anonymous)

summary: after seeing your ex rafe in the club, you have to learn once again why the two of you never could’ve worked out, no matter how much you both wished you could

note: this is a repost from my old blog, which is why you might have seen it before. also i don’t remember if it’s proofread

also big thank you to my baby @chaos-mybeloved for beta reading this one for me

also i’m sorry for the format idk how to format my stuff

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

“Baby, I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?” Topper screamed into your ear, trying to drown out the noise.

You shook your head with a smile and focused back on the music. They were playing your favorite song, there was no way you’d stop dancing just for another drink. The dance floor was full and still, most eyes were fixated on you, as you moved your body perfectly to the rhythm of the song. You were no professional dancer but you sure as hell knew what you were doing.

Concentrated on the music, you didn’t notice the new pair of eyes watching you from the corner of the dance floor. The young man was talking to the girl next to him but his gaze never moved from your body. The blonde must’ve noticed as her voice grew angry but the man didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t even listening to the words thrown at him, his attention only belonging to you.

The song was coming to an end and you opened your eyes back up, slowly adjusting to your surroundings. You did that sometimes while dancing, closing your eyes so you could focus more on the music and enjoy the moment instead of getting distracted by the people around you. You looked around, trying to see if you could find your boyfriend when your eyes met his. A sudden feeling of sadness and anger rushed through your body, keeping you from focusing. Your mind was all over the place, tons of thoughts blocking your mind all at once.

Unsure of how you got there, you found yourself in one of the club bathrooms, hanging above the sink. You tried to keep the tears inside your eyes and normally you were good at that but when it came to him, everything was different. You placed your hands on the sides of the sink, trying to keep your body from falling down when the door to the bathroom opened. You didn’t need to look up in order to know who it was.

“I’m pretty sure the tits on the door stand for “women”.” You spat out.

“(Y/N)…”

“What do you want, Cameron?” You hissed, now turning around to look directly into his light gray eyes.

His gaze went down to the ground, clearly trying to avoid your anger. “I don’t know… You looked sad and I… I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” You hissed, turning away from him. You looked into the mirror but the girl you met looked far from fine. Sure her makeup and hair looked perfect, but her eyes told a different story. They were watery, seconds from bursting out into tears. She tried to keep herself together but the presence of the boy behind her made everything harder.

You took a deep breath and looked at the boy in the mirror. His hair was a mess, sure it looked good, it always did but not because he put any effort into it. His lips were smiling but his eyes never were good at lying. You had always loved his eyes, the way they sparkled in the morning sun or the way they lit up when you told him one of your unfunny dad jokes that always made him laugh. He always sounded so beautiful when he was laughing, a sound you haven't heard in a very long time but missed terribly. He was in pain, clearly and it hurt you but it wasn’t that that was your fault. At least not completely.

“Listen…” He started, not sure if he should continue or just turn around and leave. “I… I’m sorry that you’re sad. Don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Don’t like seeing me like this?” You laughed. “That’s funny.” You turned around, now facing him directly. “Now be honest Cam-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“But that’s your fucking name now isn’t it?” You paused, walking one step closer to him. “Now be honest, why are you here, Cameron?”

“Like I already said (Y/L/N), because I wanted to see if you were okay.” He pressed, his face now only inches away from yours.

“Hmm. You see, I was okay I was having the time of my life until you and your blonde accessory of the week waltzed in.”

“Ohhh, my accessory of the week hm? Says the one who’s fucking my best friend.” His eyes were dark and his voice turned low. It was obvious how angry he was, something that had never stopped you from topping it off once more.

“That’s right Rafe Cameron, I’m fucking your best friend.” You paused, knowing if you’d go down that road, there would be no going back. “And guess what, he’s better at-” You wanted to continue but got cut off by Rafe's hand around your throat.

“Better at what sweetheart hm?” He whispered. “Tell me, darling.”

“There it is.” You grinned wickedly. “There’s the Rafe Cameron I know and hate.”

That hit him. It was obvious, his grip tightened around your throat and his eyes flickered. He knew you were mad at him but knowing you actually hated him, hit him harder than he thought it would. He wanted to say something, he wanted to spit out a response so dark even the devil would flinch but he couldn’t.

Your body tensed at the loss of oxygen flowing through your throat and you felt your heart fasten but you didn’t flinch. You met his dark gaze and countered with an even darker one. It was like when you were still together, you would challenge and provoke each other until one of you snapped. It had always been like this and it never changed even after you broke up.

He opened his mouth, about to say something when he stopped and let go of your throat. You gasped for air, your hand automatically wandering to your throat. He had done this shit before but never as strong and tight as he did now. His gaze wandered down to the hand on your throat and something in his eyes changed as if he was sorry. He held his hands up and took a few steps back until his back met the wall behind him.

“You know I… I…” He tried but clearly struggled with finding the right words. “I… I’m…” He looked at you, hoping for you to say something but you stayed silent. “You know what, forget it.” He pulled out before ripping the bathroom door open and making his way outside.

Split seconds later and his lips crashed onto yours. You didn’t quite remember how this happened, how your arm reached after him, how you pulled him towards you, or how he smashed the door back shut behind him, all you knew was how much you needed him, how much you missed him.

His hands wandered around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You had only been making out for a few seconds but you could feel his hardened erection on your body, which turned you on even more. Your hands wandered through his hair, something that you had always loved to do when you were making out.

“Let me show you who the better lover is, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear. “Bet Topper can’t make you scream the way I’m about to do.” His mouth wandered down your neck, gently kissing and sucking on your soft skin while his hand pushed down your left strap. Your dress was tight but it wasn’t enough to make it fall down your body but it was enough to make your left tit fall out.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed nipple before leaning down and gently sucking on it. He got more passionate with each second, causing you to grow impatient. You placed your finger under his chin and pulled his face back up to yours.

“I need you, to fuck me, Rafe Cameron. Now.” You whispered.

“Mhhh so needy for someone who hates me so bad.” He hummed with a grin on his face. “What would your boyfriend say if he saw his girl like this, all wet for me already, hm? Bet he can’t make you wet like this that fast.”

You rolled your eyes and hopped on the sink behind you, spreading your legs wide apart leaving him no choice but to look down at your exposed thong that was barely enough fabric to cover your folds. You gently let your hand wander through his hair before pulling him towards you. “I. Said. Fuck. Me. Rafe Cameron.” You smirked and continued: “Before I go out there and tell everyone that Topper's dick is bigger than yours.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Is it?”

“Oh god.” You groaned before pushing his head down to your crotch.

He chuckled before placing his teeth on your thong, ripping it from your body with one quick pull. You moaned at the sight of it and let your head fall back onto the mirror. He got down on his knees and started tongue fucking your pussy like there was no tomorrow. He had always had his special ways, techniques only Rafe Cameron knew how to use but this boy never failed to surprise you. You tried to keep quiet, afraid someone would hear you but he made it very hard when he added his thumb to the party. Soon, he started rubbing soft circles around your clit, something that had always been your weakness.

“Rafe…” You moaned out. “I’m close.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel him smirk against your soaking wet pussy. He sped up his pace, even adding another finger knowing how much you’d always loved it. You tried to hold on to the sink you were sitting on, nearly breaking off a nail as you press your fingertips against the cold ceramic. He could feel your walls tighten around his finger and shortly after, you were cumming all over him. He removed his finger and sucked off your juice, something he’d always loved to do.

You were still holding on to the sink, trying to prepare for what was about to come next. From experience you knew, there was no way in hell he’d let you go without having fucked you at least once, and regarding the boner that was pressing against your stomach, he wouldn't make an exception now.

He smashed his lips onto yours, not leaving any room for you to breathe. Your hands wandered down and unbuckled his belt, quickly exposing his hardened erection. You were about to push him inside you when pulled away.

“Uh, Uh, turn around for me baby, let me see that pretty ass of yours while I fuck you.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you quickly hopped off the counter and turned around making him able to slide right into you, causing you both to moan out at the sudden contact.

“Fuck (Y/N) you’re still so tight.”

“What, did you think Topper’s dick is so big it would’ve stretched me out?”

You could see his eye roll through the mirror, causing you to chuckle silently. “Glad to see you still have that pretty big mouth. Let’s see what we can do about that, huh?” He whispered into your ear as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled the ripped piece of fabric before shoving it into your mouth. “Now, we don’t want anyone to find out what a dirty little slut you are now do we?” You nodded quickly, hoping it would get him to finally start fucking you.

Your hopes were heard and soon you were met with his hips thrusting into your ass, making clap sounds every time your skin touched. His hands held onto your hips as his thrusts got faster and faster with every move. He pulled your hips closer to him, changing the ankle which made him reach the spot that made you lose all your senses. You wanted to scream out his name but instead, felt tears forming in your eyes caused by your inability to do so.

This of cource didn’t go unnoticed by him, causing him to grin and only sped up his pace, fucking you even harder than before. His eyes wandered from your face down to your ass where he watched it wiggle because of his movements. He loved the sight in front of him, you being all messed up because of him, salty tears rolling down your face, colored black mixed with your eyeliner, and your ass presented in front of him, begging him to get slapped. In fact, it was his favorite sight. He tried not to think about it too much but he tried to burn that image deep inside his mind, scared he wouldn’t be able to see it again that fast, if ever.

He wished he could’ve gone like this forever but there was still the risk of getting caught and even though he didn’t care, he knew you would, and believe it or not but upsetting you was the last thing he wanted. So he softly let his hands slide over your body, down to your clit where he placed his finger for support. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder, as he still leaned over you. He loved the way your skin felt on his, a feeling he had never felt with anyone else. He loved the way your hair smelled when you let yourself fall back, even though he hated having hair on his face.

You weren’t able to moan his name out loud but by the way, your nails dug into his thigh, he knew you were close and so was he. He sped up once again, causing you to reach your high almost synchronized with him. You could feel his cum shooting through your body as you tried to recover from your own orgasm.

Even though you were able to free yourself from your own panties by now, you still had trouble catching your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy, still inside of you.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded and gave him a happy smile through the mirror, causing him to smile himself. Oh, much he missed that smile. How much he missed you in general. But he knew you didn’t work out, you tried several times and it always ended in tears.

He slowly pulled out and quickly grabbed the piece of paper that you were handing him before you got yourself your own. The both of you cleaned yourself up and got back dressed. He wanted to say something, how much he enjoyed being close to you like this again but the words didn’t come out.

You watched him silently as he struggled to close his belt because it was stuck once again. You silently laughed at the sight in front of you, the boy that just fucked you mercilessly against the sink in the bathroom of your favorite club struggling with a task as simple as closing his belt. It reminded you of a side of Rafe, that he barely showed anyone these days. The side where he allowed himself to struggle, where he allowed himself to be human and not that perfect business robot, Ward Cameron tried to force him to be.

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told me keep on all the lights

I'ma show you what you like

Help you put back on your clothes

Make sure nothing's on your nose

Ain't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

“Here let me help you.” You said as you stepped forward and took the matter into your own hands. “I thought you’d thrown this thing out by now, it has been causing problems since the day I bought it for you.”

“It’s still working.” He answered, but there was a shift in his voice. He sounded harsher than before as if someone got into his mind and reminded him how he was supposed to act.

“Whatever you say then.” You mourned as you slid the belt into the buckle.

You got back up, ready to leave when he pulled you back. “You shouldn’t go out like that, here let me fix you.” He grabbed a piece of paper and poured some water on it, before softly removing black makeup stains from your face. He was very careful, not wanting to hurt you. “I think that’s it but maybe you should… like redo that or something… I don’t know. You always used to do that.”

“Right.” You grabbed into your bag and pulled out a thin, black eyeliner. “Do you want to do it? You used to like doing it.”

“Sure.” He chuckled. He wasn’t particularly good at drawing your eyeliner but you didn’t care. It always felt special when Rafe did your makeup, no matter if it looked perfect or not. You never let anyone do your makeup but there was something about the expression he made once he finished that you just couldn’t resist.

“You know… we could try to stay friends, at least.” You proposed carefully. “If you want to.”

“I don’t want to be your friend, (Y/N). When will you get that into your thick skull that this will never happen?” He spat out as he handed you back your eyeliner. “Like we could never be friends. Like… like what would we even do… as… as friends? Like, what would that friendship be good for?”

“Geez, as you wish Cameron, but know that this… whatever this was… will never happen again.” You paused, trying to fight back your incoming tears. “Like ever.”

“Fine by me.” He mumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear.

“Good, it’s settled then. I go back to Topper and you can go back to snorting coke off some whores ass.” You spat as you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the door.

He saw you walking through the crowd and stumbling back into the arms of your boyfriend.

Rafe knew he fucked up, but it was for the better. He knew how the both of you could get when you didn’t share the same opinion on something. He knew what power his words held over you if he lost control and said things he never wanted to say. He had seen you before, broken down on his kitchen floor between shattered bottles of glass after the both of you lost it. It was painful, seeing you walk back to Topper, the boy he used to call his best friend. He knew he’d go back to snorting coke, he could already feel the lack of substances in his blood and deep down, he knew Topper was the better man. He knew he wouldn’t hurt you the way he did, he never could and he was right. Topper could never hurt you the way Rafe did but that wasn’t because he was the better man, it was because Rafe had something that Topper never would. You loved him.

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends

#jas writes ❥#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #outer banks fanfiction

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avelera · 1 year

Text

I do wonder if we get the beginning of Brief Lives in the next Sandman Netflix season, specifically with this moment:

If it's going to be played quite the same way? If they end up skipping straight from Seasons of Mist to Brief Lives (which I think is an excellent idea to be clear) it raises a few possibilities:

(cut for comic spoilers & speculation)

Personally I find this moment a bit weird in general because Dream doesn't even name the woman who supposedly just broke his heart and thus launched the action of this arc. Also the fact we later find out it's Thessaly who in the comic at least (the show can always soften the character as they have others) fucking sucks, for her to kick off Dream's sadness roadtrip of self-destruction feels like such a waste. It also feels weird to imagine babygirl Netflix Tom Sturridge Dream going for someone like Thessaly after his whole arc of trying to be a better person and learning important lessons and also just...being a much softer character who is trying to do better, going for someone like Thessaly (who doesn't even like him by her own admission) and who is also terrible feels like a tragic step backwards in his character development. Not inconceivable, just terribly tragic.

Which has me thinking that one possibility is if they go straight from Seasons of Mist to Brief Lives, this moment above could be about Nada, who does choose to pass on after he frees her, even after expressing that she still loves him. That love is just not enough for her to accept his offer to be his queen and stay (after 10k years of Hell, who can blame her?!).

Point is, this moment instead being part of the long tail of Dream's self-recrimination about Nada choosing to pass on would make a lot of sense and be a much more justifiable kick-off for Dream going on a roadtrip that's an expression of his doubts in his ability to change for the better (and therefore, must he die?). Nada's punishment is so heinous I can easily see the Sturridge Dream being conflicted about his own actions for much longer than he appears to be in the comic, leading to this moment after he set her free.

Thessaly is an immortal, so even if/when she shows up, her having an acrimonious "angry ex girlfriend" reaction to Dream need not be because she was the girlfriend who kicked off the Brief Lives arc, they could have just dated sometime in the past centuries and still have vitriol between them.

And finally, and this is just me being a shameless Dream/Hob shipper, I do kind of wonder how one even justifies Dream ending up with an immortal human like Thessaly when Hob is right there.

Look, in the comic, Hob barely seems to remember Dream exists when he's not there, so there's no feeling of "Why doesn't Dream hook up with Hob instead??" when you first learn about Thessaly. But in the show, you've got the 1789 tension, the missed meeting, the devotion of the New Inn. Dream going for another, shitty immortal brunet when Hob is right there feels a bit like a slap in the face in that context.

And let me be clear, it's not because I'm being shipper garbage that thinks Neil can, should, or would alter the story to appease Dreamling shippers or that Dream dating Thessaly in the show as he does canonically in the comic would be an intentional slap in the face to Dreamling shippers! It is beyond wishful thinking to imagine we'd get more than what the comic offers which is a few beautifully rendered, sentimental moments between them for us to build our fanon ship off of. It's not Neil's responsibility to make it canon so don't be fucking weird about it.

It's more that the show is so queer. The comic is queer too but the show absolutely focuses and centers the narrative on predominantly queer couples and people, more than straight ones. They also softened for example the Corinthian and confirmed he's gay and has some non-destructive relationships with men, he's not just a murderer of gay men. So the narrative is even more queer than the comic.

In the 80s/90s when Sandman came out, the idea of Dream as the lead protagonist being canonically queer I think would have been pretty unlikely. He's very, very het in the comics, with the closest we get to a whisper of him not being strictly het being a mention of Lucifer once being beautiful and some speculation they might have had a relationship.

But the show is so very queer and the energy so charged between Dream and Hob (and the writers acknowledged and encouraged it!) that there is no, in my opinion, natural conclusion that, "Sure, almost everyone else is queer in this, but not Dream, obviously." If anything, it would be jarring to have so many queer characters only to slam the door shut on the possibility that Dream might also be queer.

Which is my roundabout way of saying: I wonder how Thessaly will fit into this at all. I speculate she might be removed entirely from this beat of Brief Lives, in favor of making Dream more remorseful about Nada in a sympathetic way. Furthermore, introducing Thessaly when Hob, another immortal who actually likes Dream is right there the idea that he opts for Thessaly (a woman who doesn't even like him to the point where she plays an active part later in his death) instead after being tortured for 106 years is actually painfully heartbreaking.

So in conclusion: eh? Who knows!

But also: DREAM, Hob is RIGHT THERE! Date HIM, not fucking THESSALY?!

#the sandman #dreamling #thessaly #nada #brief lives #sandman netflix speculation #sandman meta

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thevelria · 1 year

Text

A bit broken, a bit psycho, but all yours

Pairing: Yandere!Gojox Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+ only!!! heavy smut, oral (recieving both way), shower sex, toxic actions, angst

wordcount:3073

Author's note: Gojo being yandere has a thing on me lol Enjoy~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been years now that you got together with Satoru. He was oh so sweet and charming, being a complete fluff every single time he’s been around you. Compliments and sweet lies dripping from his perfect mouth. Of course you fell for the trick. Probably after the first year you started to feel that something was off. The always all-smile guy became a green eyed monster, who wanted to control every single step of yours.

But instead of you running away, you stayed, because you truly did think he was the one for you. A bit broken, a bit psycho, but all yours.

-What are you doing?- Gojo clicked his tongue irritated.

You’ve been scrolling through TikTok and you simply didn’t pay attention to him.

-I asked you a fucking question,Y/N! -his raised voice snapped you back.

-Huh? -you looked up from your phone.

-I asked -he pinched the bridge of his nose- what are you doing?

-Oh -you giggled, ignoring his tantrum.

-So? Are you texting your men who fuck you, when I’m not around?

-Satoru, please… -you rolled your eyes- Not this shit again.

Gojo was jealous, but not in a cute way. In a choking, toxic, annoying way. And the fact that after all these years he simply didn’t trust you made you feel angry and sad at the same time. His nonstop tantrum really got on your nerves. He could have been so much more, a perfect partner, a perfect lover, a perfect husband with time. But instead he stuck in the mud of jealousy, which was slowly eating him and yourself up.

He couldn't help his behavior, the single thought of you being with someone else, touched by someone else made his blood boil. You were his special one, only his. The way he loved you was abnormal, sick to a level, where there was no way back from.

The evening training started around 5pm as usual. All the sorcerers gathered together in the room and paired up. Most of the time you were paired with Gojo, but sometimes you got someone else. When you saw your name next to Nanami’s you already knew it was going to be fucked up.

-I’ll try not to kick your ass too hard-Nanami walked up to you, wearing sweatpants and a kinda loose shirt.

-Oh, you wish -you laughed in an instant- You have no chance against me -placing yourself in your fighting stance. You’ve been wearing your usual training suit, tight black shorts and a baby-blue tight tank top, which followed the curve of your body perfectly. Gojo argued about these clothes like a billion times, because he found it too revealing. You just waved at his words.

The first punch you received from Nanami felt like the air left your body. You bent down, hands on your stomach, while fighting with the unbearable pain.

-Fuck -you hissed, straightening yourself up, standing in the stance once again- Come -you waved your fingers at Nanami. He smirked and attacked again and again and again. You dodged most of the hits and threw some proper punches as well.

After a few minutes of intensive fist fighting for a brief second you let your guard down and he mercilessly took advantage of it. The punch hit you right on the jaw. The next you remember feeling a leg kicking yours out under you and you landed on the mattress with Nanami on top of you.

-Sorry, princess -he leaned in, whispering in your ear, making you chuckle.

Gojo heard Nanami’s husky voice even if he tried to whisper as low as possible. He froze in his action, slowly grabbing the blindfold between his long fingers and pulling it down, turning his face in the direction of you. His beautiful eyes widened and he felt as the rage rushed through his body. In an instant he appeared next to you, grabbing the shoulder of Nanami and tossing him away like he weighed nothing.

-How dare you flirt with my woman? -he clenched his jaw, taking off the blindfold completely.

-Satoru -you stood up, reaching for his hand- Please don’t make a scene, please -you begged.

But he didn’t listen to you and attacked the man in front of him. Even if Nanami was a strong one, he wasn’t a match to Gojo. The last thing you saw was Nanami’s ripped up lips and eyebrows, blood running down his face. Gojo punched him so many times so hard that his knuckles were sliced open.

As you took a deep breath you grabbed your stuff and simply left the room, heading home without saying a single word to anyone. On your way to your shared home thoughts were running through your mind. You wanted this madness to be ended and felt like you were not able to do this anymore. Tears building up in your eyes from frustration made you even angrier. You loved Gojo with all your heart, but the way he acted towards you and everyone else around you was just not acceptable anymore.

-This is it -you sighed, wiping your eyes with the back of your bandaged hand.

You parked down your car, entering your home and walking straight to the bedroom. Standing in front of the wardrobe you took a deep breath.

-It’s gonna be the best for both of us -you kept persuading yourself, while grabbing a luggage and stuffing your clothes into it.

Your body clenched to the noise, when Gojo closed the front door, hearing his footsteps towards the room made you feel nauseous. You were afraid, but determined at the same time.

-Baby -he leaned against the door frame- what are you doing?

You kept silent, packing without a break.

-Love, please -he took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose- How many more times will we go through this?

-Stop it, Satoru. We’re done. I’m not doing this any longer -your cold voice terrified him. Mostly you yelled at him, threw random things towards him. But not this time. You seemed way too calm and it made him feel uneasy.

-Y/N -he walked behind you, placing his huge palms on your waist. His touch caused your body to shiver.

-I don’t want to hear it -you shook your head- I cannot live like this!

Gojo panicked, felt desperate and hopeless. Were you bluffing? Or were you seriously about to leave him? The emotional spiral he found himself in squeezed him from the inside. He felt a knot building up in his chest, his breath became heavy and uneven.

His hands grabbed you hard, turning you around to face him. His Adam’s apple bobbed the second he looked you in the eyes. Seeing the pure coldness in them destroyed him in an instant.

-Baby, please don’t leave me -he whispered- I’m sorry, okay? I’m really really sorry -he kept bubbling. But your expression didn’t change a bit, you’ve witnessed this way too many times. Empty promises, sweet lies, nothing else.

-Just leave me alone -you sighed, rolling your eyes. But he wasn’t able to let you go, his hand stood still on your body.

-Y/N, I mean it -he frowned- I…I don’t even know what’s gotten into me. Seeing that dick atop of you -he clenched his jaw.

-That’s the problem, Satoru -you placed your palm on his chest- That you never think before you act. What could have possibly happened? Hm? You thought he was about to fuck me right then, right there? You are ridiculous -you laughed with so much pain in your voice.

-No, no of course not -he mumbled- Fuck, I don’t know -he collapsed on his knees, burying his face into his palms. Hearing him sobbing made your eyes wide. Was he…was he truly crying?

-Hey…hey -you sat on your heels as well, placing your hand on his. You have never seen him like this before. He was always so arrogant, so prideful, not showing his true feelings. And now he was here…crying in front of you shamelessly.

-Please stay, you know how fucking much I love you -his voice cracked and it melted your heart right away.

-Oh ‘Ru -you dropped your hands around his neck, pulling him in a tight hug- You can be such a freaking asshole -you chuckled, fighting with your own tears.

He buried his face into your neck, hugging you so tight you wondered if he was about to break your ribs. The second his lips pressed against your shoulder your body shivered.

-I love you -he planted featherlight kisses on your skin- More than anything in this goddamn life -he murmured.

You took a deep breath, while caressing the back of his neck, running your finger through his silky, white hair. Feeling his tongue licking your collarbone sent tensions between your legs.

Breaking the hug you pushed him a bit back, looking right into his eyes and witnessing the pure lust burning in them.

Gojo didn’t waste any more time and crashed his lips roughly against yours, kissing you with so much passion your body felt like jello. His tongue entered your mouth, eager to find yours, tasting every part of you.

The next thing you remember is him laying you down on the floor, spreading your legs with his knees, taking his shirt above his head and tossing it aside. Seeing his perfectly muscled torso made you wild. You bit your lower lip as you touched his flexed abs, lowering your palm down, following the shape of his V line with your index finger.

A low growl escaped his mouth as he grabbed your shorts, freeing you from them with ease.

-Wait -you pressed your hand against his chest.

-What? Why? -he frowned.

-I’m covered in sweat -you sat up-Come, let’s take a shower -you peaked a quick kiss on his cheek.

The devilish smirk on his face looked scary and hot at the same time.

As you entered the bathroom he hugged you from behind, pressing your back against his chest.

-Look how beautiful you are -he growled, while looking at you in the mirror on the wall.

-’Ru… -you blushed. He was an expert in compliments.

-Shh..- he hushed you- Just look at your beautiful face -he caressed your cheek, lower your neck, shoulder until your hip. Grabbing the bottom of your tanktop and pulling it off above your head, leaving you standing only in your underwear. -Damn, Y/N -he took a deep breath- Your breast are so fucking perfect -he palmed them hard, squeezing them gently.

-Do you see it? -he smirked, while staring at your body in the mirror once again.

-See what?

-Your perfect, beautiful body…Damn it girl -he clenched his jaw- You drive me crazy -he grabbed your panties, ripping them off with one move. Slowly moving his hand higher, unbuttoning your bra, letting your breast free. -I love every inch of you, Y/N -he bit your earlobe, making you moan -I love the way you moan, darling… -he whispered, lowering his palm on the side of your body until he reached your thigh.

-As much I hate your jealousy as much I love when you are dominant, ‘Toru -you grabbed his hand.

-Do you? -he smirked, sliding one of his fingers into your pussy.

-Oh the hell I am -you threw your head back, resting it on his chest.

He slowly moved the tip of his index finger on your clit, making small circles, which made your whole body shiver. You were about to lose yourself, when with his other hand he grabbed your hand and guided it down on your body.

-Let me see you pleasure yourself for me -he growled in your ear. You obeyed right away and slid your finger into your already wet pussy. Your finger moved in sync with his and the tension was mesmerizing. You moaned harder and harder as you felt the pleasure building up in your stomach second by second.

-Good girl -he licked his bottom lip, while staring at you in the mirror.

-’Ru- you moaned his name- I’m so close -you threw your free hand behind his neck, grabbing the back of his head.

-Then come for me, baby -he bit your neck.

His words sent the tension through your body and your orgasm bursted out immediately. You kept moaning and whining loudly as you rode your climax under your fingers.

-Damn -you breathed heavily- You are so bad… -you smiled, turning around and grabbing his bulge through his sweatpants.

Gojo freed himself from his clothes in an instant, standing in front of you completely naked. Your eyes were already fucking him and he noticed that. He loved seeing the lust in your eyes, it made him feel stronger, better…special.

-Do you like what you see, darling? -he tilted his head slightly.

-Oh shut up -you laughed, grabbing his hand, pulling him into the shower.

A deep sigh escaped your mouth the second you felt the hot water running down your body. Facing Gojo, pressing your lips against his roughly, passionately. He grinned in the kiss, when he noticed how eager you were to find his tongue.

Long minutes passed with kissing, when you finally broke it, gasping for some air. You put some shower gel on your palm, rubbing it over his body. Washing his strong chest, caressing his abs and lowering on his thighs and legs. Gently rubbing his dick, making him moan. After washing the gel off you went down on your knees in front of him. Looking into his impossibly blue eyes as you licked the tip of his hardened shaft.

-Fuck -he threw his head back, resting it on the tile covered wall.

A slight smirk crawled upon your face as you stroked him gently, moving your palm up and down, enjoying the husky voice of him moaning under your touch. You let your tongue dance around his tip, licking his whole length until the base and reverse.

-Y/N -he growled-please take me -he begged, holding your head in still, forcing you to obey no matter what. As you started to bob him, all his muscles flexed in his body. You weren’t gentle, you went really hard on him. A bit of revenge, letting out your anger on that beast in your mouth. You deepthroated him out of the blue and he let out the most animalistic moan you’ve ever heard.

-I’m so close -he roared. You didn’t even have time to react, before you felt him twitching and his hot semen hit the back of your throat. Squeezing him twice more then pulling him out and licking him clean with a satisfied smile on your face.

Gojo grabbed your shoulder and made you stand up in a blink of an eye, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deep, tasting himself on your tongue. A loud moan escaped your mouth the moment his huge palm wandered down on your stomach, rubbing your already needy part between your legs. He kneeled down, softly grabbing one of your legs, throwing it on his shoulder.

-’Ru -you hissed as his tongue entered your pussy. His arrogant smirk was undeniable, because he knew…he knew you forgot his mistake once again. The way he was eating you sent you to another universe. His tongue danced on your clit, gently tapping and sucking on it. You rushed your fingers through his wet, crystal white hair, grabbing it harder, when he added one of his long fingers to make the tension deeper. You became a moaning mess as he kept pleasuring you in a way only he was capable of. Heavy breaths, louder moans rushed through the room as you felt your climax was about to burst out once again. It was his thing, he felt it was his duty to make you cum as many times as possible.

-I’m about to…-your sentence died midway into a lustful scream.

-Cum, baby…come for me -he held you still.

His husky voice sent shivers down your spine and you couldn’t hold it back anymore, riding your orgasm out right on his face. After you were down from your highs he stood up with a devilish smirk on his face. And you loved it, you loved how arrogant, how satisfied, how proud he looked.

Finishing the shower as quickly as possible, because you both knew it wasn’t going to be the end. No. You wanted to fuck him as much as he wanted to fuck you. Drying yourself with a fluffy towel you expected to bring this to the bedroom. Oh but how wrong you were. Gojo stepped behind you, gripping into the flash of your hips, pushing you down on the sink. You tiptoed, raising your ass a bit higher to make it easier for him to slide in.

-Fucking hell -you screamed as he pushed his whole length in, all of his 10 inches rushed through your pussy, clenching your walls around him in an instant.

-Baby -he breathed heavily- you feel so goddamn good. I love your tight pussy around my cock -he mumbled.

He pounded you without mercy, with lust, with anger. Biting down your neck, your back, anywhere he could have reached your bare skin, leaving marks behind.

-Tell me how much you love my dick! -he commanded, speeding up his pace.

-I love it a lot, ‘Ru!

-Good girl! -he smirked cockily- I will never let anyone else fuck this tight pussy. It’s mine! -he gritted his teeth, feeling really close to his climax once again.

Unholy sounds echoed through the bathroom, they way his balls were slapping against your pussy, the noise of the skin to skin contact pushed you close to your high as well.

A few more thrusts and you felt him pulsing, twitching inside of you, you clenched your walls around him harder than ever as you reached your high, making him moan in delusion.

-Y/N -he breathed heavily, staring into your eyes in the mirror with his dick still inside of you- I was serious. I’m not going to let anyone else to fuck you anymore. You are mine for eternity!

-I’m yours, baby -you closed your eyes, feeling the stupid love spreading in your body.

The ugly truth was that you were so deeply in love with this man that you didn’t see the toxicity slowly choking you to death.

#gojo thirst #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #yandere gojo #jjk smut #satoru smut #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk gojo

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moonywritez6 · 4 months

Text

Kinktober Day 7 Blood Kink (Reupload)

Character: Choso x Reader

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, unprotected sex, harsh language, violence, mentions of dead bodies, blood, pet names, mentions of them being in Shibuya

Blood Kink: Being attracted to blood and or enjoying the sight of it.

Wc: 3,271

A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

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Choso was what you liked to call the perfect boyfriend. He was always so loving and thoughtful, praising you with gifts and words no matter how small. Honestly, you wouldn't want him any other way. There was, however, one small problem in your relationship, at least for you. Choso was so vanilla and gentle when it came to having sex. At first, nothing was wrong with it as you loved how careful and considerate he was with you, making sure he was pleasing your body instead of just his like many other guys you had been dating. Sometime down the line, you found yourself wanting more from Choso. You wanted him to be rough with you, go absolutely feral, and use your body for his desires at least once; after that, you wouldn't mind returning to the usual sex. Unfortunately, you never knew how to bring it up to the man as he was always quick to think it was his fault and he wasn't fulfilling his role correctly.

You let out a deep sigh, tossing someone's lifeless body out of your way as you looked around the bloody massacre. "Geez, and I just had these cleaned." You sighed in annoyance as you examined your blood-stained clothes. You weren't one for murder or violence, but your boyfriend had decided to team up with a few powerful curses, so you had no choice but to comply with his wishes. "Honestly, I didn't expect for them to separate us…I bet Choso is so worried." You sighed, scratching your head as you walked over the bodies, a slight skip in your step. The thought of your boyfriend caused your cheeks to turn pink as you let out a happy squeal, cupping both sides of your face, hearts practically flying out from your lovesick aura. "AAAAH!!! I JUST WANNA SEE MY CUTE BOYFRIEND!" You cried, absolutely smitten with him. You let out a slight hum as you started skipping over the bodies as you searched for your lover.

"I'm coming my blood lotus~ Just wait for me!"

__________

Choso paced back and forth, his leg twitching up and down nervously as he nibbled on one of his nails. It had been around two hours since he had been separated from you, driving him crazy. Jogo scoffed as he watched Choso's ridiculous antics. "Will you cut it out?! Honestly, it's making me sick how whipped you are for such a weak curse." He grumbled, crossing his arms. His pacing stops as he processes his colleagues' words. 'Weak…? WEAK?!?!' Your boyfriend clenched his fists as he stormed over to Jugo, roughly grabbing him by the front of his collar, their faces inches apart. "What the hell did you just say about her? I'd watch my tone if I were you." Your boyfriend growled, feeling his blood boil.

There were two things Choso hated more than anything in this god-awful world: anyone hurting or talking trash about his brothers and beautiful girlfriend. Jogo felt himself growing angry as his head started to throb. "I said she's nothing but a weak curse!" He fumed, locking eyes with Choso, who felt his anger rise as he raised a fist, ready to end the curse in front of him, that is, until he heard the familiar cheery voice. "Ah! I found you, Choso baby!" His eyes quickly dart toward your voice, seeing your figure happily running towards him. Releasing Jogo, having forgotten about him like a wet rag as he ran towards you, the worry he felt fading when his eyes took in your joyful expression. However, as he got closer, he noticed all the blood that covered his clothes and skin, causing his worry to come back ten times as he picked up the pace.

Once he reached you, he quickly wrapped you in his arms, his hands holding you close as he carefully inspected your body, ensuring the blood wasn't coming from you. You just giggled, finding your boyfriend's response absolutely adorable as you wrapped your arms around his waist, face nuzzling into his chest as you inhaled his scent. "My bleeding heart, oh, how I missed you." He exhaled, hiding his face deep into the crook of your neck, his anxiety finally subsiding when he realized the blood wasn't yours and that you were perfectly safe. You hummed, rubbing your hands up and down his back, soothing his nerves. "I was only gone for two hours, my bloody Lotus~" You sang your voice so carefree as it rang through his ears like a melody. His grip tightened at your words as he kissed your neck delicately.

"Two hours too long." He confessed as he pulled away from you. You stood before him with a bright smile as he took your entire form, finally getting a good look at his sweet girlfriend. Boy, was that a mistake. Choso felt his body heat up, face going red with embarrassment as his eyes bore into you. You were always so beautiful and cute in his eyes, but this time? This time, you looked so sexy, covered in the blood of those who had dared attack you. "Hm? Choso baby?" You called, waving a hand in front of his face curiously when you noticed he hadn't said anything in over a minute. "You, okay? My blood Lotus?" Your voice becomes concerned as you carefully cup his cheek with one of your bloody hands. He flinches at the sudden touch, having been so deep in thought as his mind starts turning your sweet body into something filthy. You frown at this shyly, pulling your hand away. "I'm sorry…seeing me covered in blood must disgust you, huh? I guess I should've found some clothes to change into," you admit, a voice laced with sadness as you look away from your boyfriend.

Choso's heart dropped at your words, along with the look on your face, as he quickly grabbed your wrist, pressing the palm of your hand back onto his cheek, rubbing it up and down as he melted into your touch, a shaky breath leaving his lips. "Not at all, my bleeding heart…you look as divine as usual." He whined, absolutely smitten with you. "It's just this time…." He trails off, glancing behind him as if finally remembering his colleagues' presence. He frowned, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he turned to the other curses. "Since Y/n has returned to me, I will take her to get new clothes. You should be fine without me, right?" He asked, his tone utterly different from what he used with you. Jogo looked ready to protest; however, he was stopped by Mahito, who just smiled at the two of you, waving a hand.

"That's fine~ Don't be too long though!" He laughed, ignoring Jogo's protests. Choso nods before interlacing his fingers with yours as he pulls you away from prying eyes. The two of you walk for an hour, passing multiple clothing stores as he takes you to his destination. "Where are we going?" You finally ask as you try to keep up with his long strides. Choso looks back at you, smiling sweetly as he notices your failed attempt to keep up with him. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, humans passing by, unable to see the bloodied girl in front of them. He carefully places his hand against your cheek and pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss. This one is more aggressive than any others he's ever given you, and he's given a lot.

Choso whines into the kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, desperately wanting you to open your mouth. You do as told, a small giggle leaving your lips as you allow your boyfriend's wet muscle to invade your mouth. Choso feels his knees grow weak as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as he grinds against your front like a needy puppy. You gasp in shock, allowing his tongue to slide deeper down your throat. After a moment, he pulls away the saliva connecting your lips. His hips don't seem to stop, though, as he's practically picking you off the ground to press his bulge against your hidden pussy.

"C-Choso! What's gotten into you?" You pant, trying to catch your breath as you cling to his clothes. He looks down at you, racing red as pathetic pants and whines fall from his lips. "I-I'm sorry, my love…but seeing you covered in blood like this… you're so fucking sexy." He confessed while dipping into the crook of your neck, aggressively sucking on the spot he knew would get you going. You moan, hips bucking up into his, causing a smile on his lips as he continues sucking on the tender skin. "C-Choso not here! All these humans…" You whined, trying to push him away. This time, he could care less about the people around you or your cries of embarrassment. He was too turned on to think appropriately as he started tugging at your clothes.

"Choso!" You yelled, giving his head a light smack, causing him to wince as he pulled away from you with a pout. You stood there looking an absolute mess, making his eyes want to roll into the back of his head. "Fine… I'm sorry, my bleeding heart…" He breathed, leaving kisses all over your face. "I'll find a quiet spot, so please don't be mad at me." He begged, not wanting you to stop as he felt so hot and bothered that he felt like crying. You sigh briefly before nodding, allowing him to quickly drag you into the nearest alley. "They can't see us anyways…" He muttered, attacking your lips again in a feverish kiss, his hands ravishing your body as he took in all the red staining your skin. You whined, your breathing becoming heavy just from his light touch and kisses alone.

'S-so?! You never know when a sorcerer or a human with cursed energy will be nearby!" You scolded, earning a slight whine and an apology as he pulled away from you an absolute mess. "My bleeding heart… it's too much…I want to do it." He growled, sliding down to his knees as he pulled at your shorts, his eyes hungry for your sweet pussy. You looked down at his eyes, lidded over with lust as you gave a soft smile, gently rubbing his head. "Do with me what you wish, Choso~" You sang so sweetly he wanted to cum on the spot. Without a second thought, Choso tore your shorts and panties down, dropping them at your ankles as he stuffed his mouth full of your sweet slick deep moan left his lips as he lapped at your folds, his tongue twirling around your clit. You let out a few cries, your head pressed back against the brick wall, your back arching as you gripped your hair with one hand. "F-fuck, baby! So, fucking good~" You cried, loving this new side of your boyfriend.

Choso hummed at the praise, his eyes not leaving your bloodied appearance as he gripped your hips, his tongue poking in and out of your hole, causing your legs to shake as you squeezed his head between your thighs. "Y/n~ My sweet baby~" He whines, his nails dragging down your thighs, drawing tiny beads of blood, causing you to flinch hissing from the slight sting. "W-what are you?" You ask, not understanding his goal. Choso smiled, pulling away from you as he started lapping up one of your thighs, the other smearing the blood over your precious skin. "So pretty…so sexy." He whispered; eyes clouded with desire as he looked up at you. "Does it turn you on my bleeding heart?" He questions, slowly rising so he could once again hover over you, his fingers sliding against your dripping folds.

"Cause I am… I'm so turned on by your bloody appearance that I'm ashamed." He admits going to bite at your lip again, this time biting it harder. He presses his forehead to yours as he slowly inserts a finger, watching your face contort from pleasure and pain. "Are you disgusted with me, my love? Does me wanting to fuck your blood-stained body turn you away from me?" He starts asking all these questions while his finger plunges deep inside you, curling into that one spot that made your knees give out. Choso catches you, his finger still abusing your pussy as he pushes another inside. "Please answer me, Y/n." He begs, not wanting his precious treasure to find him revolting due to this newfound kink of his.

You're silent for a moment, your breath echoing in the darkly light alley as you try to process all of his words. The excitement you feel from finally having Choso use your body for his desires causes your head to spin. "Y-you could never disgust me, Choso." You finally manage to get out as you weakly look up at him, a fucked-out smile on your face, eyes half open from pleasure. You go and bite your lip, feeling your teeth pierce the skin as you press a deep kiss to his lips. Choso is taken back for a moment before the taste of your blood slips into his mouth, causing his eyes to roll back as his body aggressively shakes. You pull away, shocked, as you feel his body lean against yours while he tries to regain his breath.

"Choso, did you just…cum?" You breathed, surprised eyes meeting his lidded ones as he looked at you, lust still written all over his features. "It's okay," He starts his thumb smearing the blood across your face as he slips his fingers out. "I'm still so hard," he admits as he guides your hand down into his clothes, allowing you to feel how sticky it is down there, causing your legs to press together as you feel your slick leak down your legs. "Can I fuck you Y/n? I want to put it in so fucking bad." He whines, bucking his hips into your hand when he feels you start jerking him off. You hummed, eyes locked on where your hand disappeared into his clothes, finding this situation such a turn-on as you lick your lips. "Mhm…fuck me so good, Choso baby~ Use me till your heart's content~" You purred into his ear.

Choso's face lights up with embarrassment as tears prick his eyes. "Thank you, my bleeding heart!" He cries, his hands lifting you from the ground, catching you by surprise as you wrap your legs around him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" He cried repeatedly as he shoved his aching cock inside you, his pace aggressive and fast. It hurt at first, but you swallowed the pain, your heart filled with too much joy as you watched the man of your obsession pathetically rail into you, his lust taking control. 'All this for some pathetic people's blood.' You thought happily, stroking the back of his head, causing him to whimper as he placed kisses all over your exposed skin.

"Mm~ Right there, baby! Feels so fucking good~" You cried, feeling the tip of his cock hitting that bundle of nerves that always drove you over the edge. "Fuuuuuuck! Hit it again, baby! Use me so good!" You cry tears of pleasure as you lift his face to yours. Choso had drool running down his chin as he quickly captured your lips in his, his tongue aggressively lapping at the spot you had bit earlier; the taste of iron was still strong as Choso felt his cock twitch. "Mm~ my bleeding heart, your blood taste so fucking sweet…I can't get enough." He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy. You just smile, giggling as you go and leave Hickey's down his neck, wanting to let those who could see him know that he was claimed for. Choso loved when you got possessive; it made him feel like he wasn't alone in his love for you.

"So pretty…so fucking sexy just for me." He grunts, his hips slamming into yours. Loud moans to leave your lips as you gripped his shoulders for support. "Are you gonna cum My Blood Lotus? Cum deep inside me, okay? I wanna feel you deep in my pussy, baby~" You purred, your tongue sticking out in the sluttiest way he's ever seen. Choso looks at you in awe, completely smitten by the curse in front of him as he feels his hips pound up into you, his seed releasing deep into your walls. You tossed your head back, hands gripping his hair as you let out the most beautiful moan he had ever heard. Choso whines, his thrusts picking back up as he starts to go for round two, already not giving you a chance to recover from your orgasm. "W-wait Choso! I just came, so I'm…ah~ really sensitive!" You cried, arms wrapping around his neck for support. Choso just grunts into your ear, the smell of blood filling his senses as he feels himself going feral.

"Sorry… it's too good…too fucking good!" He cried, his hips shaking from his overstimulation, having come twice in only a few minutes. "I'll carry you back, okay baby~ So just let me fuck you until I'm all out~ red is so fucking pretty on you…fuck Y/n, so beautiful…my beautiful bleeding heart, you make me insane!" He cried out praise with each thrust he took, your moans being the only sound he wanted to hear while licking at any blood he could, trying to clean up your skin from the filth that wanted to harm you. "No one's blood tastes like yours…so sweet and intoxicating just for me." He whimpers, feeling his tip press against your cervix, causing a whimper to leave your lips.

"Sorry baby…just a few more, I promise." He begged into your ear, nibbling at the lobe reassuringly. He didn't say anything as all you could do was look up at the night sky of Shibuya, your mind spinning with only Choso as you looked up at the stars. 'So pretty.' You thought, a fucked-out grin appearing as you pressed him close to your chest, allowing him to suck on the clothed mounds. Choso continued to fuck you five more times; after that, your mind and body were exhausted as he went and brought you new clothes making sure to change you himself as a way of apologizing for how rough he was with you. You smile at him as he gives you a piggyback ride back where you were supposed to meet up with the others. When you returned, Jogo quickly yelled at the two of you for taking so long.

Choso, not wanting you to deal with Jogo's annoying voice, placed you on a bench before walking over to the curse, both taunting the other. You watched him with a giant smile as you felt Mahito take a seat next to you, a mischievous smile on his face as Hanami made sure you were okay, having noticed how exhausted you looked. "Well~ Don't you look like you had a fun time~" He teased, raising a brow at you. You hummed, tapping Hanami's hand reassuringly as you looked from your boyfriend to the curse beside you. "So, tell me did you discover anything new about your love?" He pried, loving each detail you would give him about your relationship. You looked at him for a moment before a giant smile spread across your face, a deep hue dusting your cheeks as you looked at him with lovesick eyes, your hands holding your cheeks.

"My Blood Lotus really loves the color red~"

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remapped-soul · 5 months

Note

once again with an italian song, this time for charlos

"occhi diversi tutte le sere ma sempre il solito vecchio sorriso" >>> different eyes every single night but always the same old smile

i'm imagining something romantic and cheesy and charles' eyes changing with the light :)

once again, im so sorry how late this is. i had an idea for this ever since you sent me the ask but only now found the energy to write. i hope you like it <3 I tried making it cheesy and romantic. what's for sure, charles' eyes are definitely changing hehe. your prompts have been amazing and I had so much fun writing them

this is a companion piece to my charlos demon au. read it here

tw: mention of the lv incident, and charles is angry about it, but nothing too graphic.

This year was supposed to be different. This year was supposed to be their year. Prayers on his lips, the devil by his side, Carlos was supposed to win this year. Instead, he's barely scrapping in the top 5 as it is. To say he is frustrated is an understatement.

"I thought a deal with the devil meant glory," Carlos says the night after the race in Melbourne. "I thought the car would be strong. I thought--" the voice catches in his throat "--I thought I'd be strong."

Charles is motionless next to him, eyes a blue so dark and deep, no shadow disturbs them. Carlos is a little afraid to look at him.

"It will come." Charles presses his mouth against Carlos' shoulder, heat sipping through the shirt. He inhales, long and deep. He's just like a dog sometimes, Carlos thinks, a little amused, a little fond. Protective and possessive.

"Easy for you to talk." Carlos shakes Charles off. The artificial light of the hotel room slants in his eyes, and for a second, Charles' irises are not deep blue, but milky white. Carlos' heart seizes in his chest. He blinks. Charles' eyes are back to normal. "You were Senna in the past life."

Charles rolls his eyes. "I made a deal with you, not with Ferrari. I can't help them if they're not ready to pay the price."

"And I am? Paying the price?"

Charles smiles, crooked, lopsided, dimples popping, and kisses him into quietness.

It gets better until it doesn't and Carlos has to retire his car in Spa halfway in. It's Charles' turn to be on the podium, and Carlos is so angry he can barely stand to look at him.

"It's just a third place, Carlos. Nothing to stress over."

They go back to the hotel right after Charles finished his media duties, and Carlos wants nothing more than to be alone. He thinks slamming the door would have gotten the message across, but when he turns around, Charles is already there, by the bed, waiting, hands in his pockets, eyes a dull grey.

"A third place and three championships," Carlos sneers now, looking over Charles' shoulder. He can't stand the look in his eyes. "Nothing to stress over."

Charles sighs, exasperated. "I existed before you, Carlos. I will exist after you. My life now is nothing but a moment, painted in a different color. I don't choose my lives, the same way you didn't choose to be bound to me. If I could, I'd always be a king, a winner, but my life is defined by the contracts I make the same way yours is defined by things outside of your control." Charles stops, an angry breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He doesn't talk about his life, his existence as a being outside of the human realm, if he can help it. "You know what you got to do if you wish to never see me again."

Carlos finally looks at Charles. His eyes shine like marble in sunlight. Outside is dark, a starless night.

"And if I do? Will the old Charles be back?" Carlos still remembers the days before he made his pact. The sweet Charles, the shy Charles. The one that blushed around Sebastian Vettel.

"You drivers always think you're so different from one another, but you're all the same." The Charles in front of him gives him a sad smile. "There is no old Charles. It's always been me."

Carlos suddenly feels nauseous. He stares at Charles, at his eyes, at the grey melting into blue. "I think…I think I need to be alone." A pause. "Please."

Charles tilts his head to the side, watching Carlos. Carlos blinks. Charles is gone.

Later, they will be fine, as fine as a demon and human can be. They will fall into bed again, and Charles will let Carlos touch him, slide into him raw, make love to him. Charles will let Carlos wrap his hands around his throat, kiss him breathless, mark him. Charles will let Carlos believe he has power, and Carlos will let it happen, accept it. He will accept anything, everything as long as he gets to enjoy this for a little while longer.

The win in Singapore comes with a bang, and Carlos doesn't have time to think if Charles gave him this only to appease him. He is yelling over the coms, yelling as he gets out of the car, as he embraces the team. He sings every word of Fratelli d’Italia up on the podium. Fred pours champagne over his head, down his overalls. Carlos accepts everything with the biggest smile on his face. He won. He won for Ferrari. With Ferrari.

A tiny voice in his head tells him, you won before Charles this year, before Il Predestinato. It's delightfully mean. Carlos shoves it back where it came from.

He doesn't spot Charles anywhere until after his press conference, when Carlos is pulled into a desolate room, a hand on his mouth to silence him and a cheeky smile greeting him in the dark.

"Hi, champion."

Carlos grins against the fingers. "Hi back," he mumbles, pulling Charles into him by the waist.

Charles' eyes are a kaleidoscope of red-pink-purple, a sunset trapped in his irises. "My beautiful champion," he says and then he kisses Carlos hard on the mouth. Carlos parts his knees, Charles steps closer, pushes his hands underneath Carlos's shirt, fingers on his stomach, skin against skin. Carlos shudders.

"Bebe," Carlos mutters as Charles kisses down his neck. "Not here. Hgmm." Charles bites at a particular sensitive spot on Carlos' neck. "We don't have time."

Charles' eyes glimmer as he looks up at Carlos. "Is that a challenge?" He asks and drops to his knees before Carlos can get a word in.

Ten minutes later they're sliding into their chairs as the debrief starts, and if Carlos fixes his pants and Charles wipes the corner of his mouth, no one bats an eyelash. After all, they were only a few minutes late. No one scolds a Ferrari champion.

The manhole blows up underneath Carlos' car in Las Vegas. It brings the first practice to an end and rules him out of the second one. Because of the damage, he will most likely get a penalty on Sunday. It’s a mess. Charles is fuming.

Carlos watches as Charles paces the length of his hotel room, threat dripping from his tongue like a thunderstorm, and he speaks in French and sometimes in Spanish. Other times in languages that are not familiar at all. Carlos would laugh about it, would pull Charles into his arms, tell him not to worry, kiss the frown off his face. He’d do that and more if it weren’t for the shackles shining bloody red around Charles’ neck, around his wrists, eyes matching as they flare up with every new word.

Charles’ threats are not something to laugh at. They’re real, and if Carlos doesn’t do anything about it, Charles will level the city.

“It’s what they deserve,” Charles spits. “If there is something the humans have been constant about- it's money. It’s always about money. They’d risk everything for it. I should cut their fingers off, one by one. Make them choke on money. Teach them the consequence of greed.”

Carlos sighs. He doesn’t think too much about it and grabs Charles by the arm, pulling him into his lap.

��Cariño,” Carlos soothes, pressing a kiss underneath Charles’ right eye. He puts his fingers on Charles’ neck and doesn’t think about how it burns. “You’re older than mankind. Why are you still surprised?”

Charles growls low in his throat. “They messed with what’s mine.” Surprise and pleasure zip up Carlos’ spine. He drops his hands around Charles’ shoulders, pushes and pulls until Charles gives in and melts against his chest. “I am fine, really. I am here, aren’t I?”

Charles huffs. He grips the hem of Carlos’ shirt and presses his cold nose against Carlos’ neck.

“You could’ve lost your legs,” he mumbles.

“Not for long,” Carlos says as he draws lines on Charles’ back. Up and down, left to right, as soothing as he can make them. “I have you.”

“Yes,” Charles relents, finally, fight going out of him all at once, shackles fading until they leave only unmarred skin behind. “Yes, you do.”

He presses a kiss under Carlos’ ear. If Carlos senses a hit of teeth, too sharp to be human, he doesn’t mention it.

“Will you leave the city and its people alone?”

Charles smiles against his neck. “For now. For you. They owe you a life debt.”

“Yes, yes, my fearless demon,” Carlos says and then tightens his hold and flips them on the bed, Carlos on top, Charles splayed underneath him. For the next several hours Carlos makes sure Charles doesn’t have time to think about decimating the world. Charles lets him.

A pact with the devil is not so bad after all.

#luna.writes #charlos #charlos demon au #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #my stories #part 2 is here and it's not edited and im not sure it makes sense but I had fun writing this #i hope you like

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starry-nights-garden · 9 months

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✧ P1Harmony Intak x gn!reader ✧ words: ~800 ✧ genre: fluff, angst ✧ warnings: none ✧ prompts: “Nothing has ever felt so right.” + “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

There is regret lying deep in his gaze and he can barely look at you when you finally meet him that day.

“I’m sorry…” he mutters, and you immediately feel the urge to tell him to shut up. You’d be lying if you said you’re not angry at him blaming himself all over again, but on the other hand you could never show him those feelings when he’s standing in front of you looking like a puppy that was abandoned in the rain. You take in a deep breath to collect yourself and then you reach out to grab his hand, pulling him towards you and over the doorstep.

“Just come in first of all.”

You and your boyfriend Intak had a date planned today, with movies and ice cream and cuddles on the couch, but just before he was scheduled to arrive at your place, you got a rushed text from him saying he can’t make it. Because of work - you figured.

“We had to stay behind at practice and redo a part of the dance…” he explains to you now, his voice cracking from the guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats again and you furrow your eyebrows, trying to figure out what you could say to him in this very moment in order to relieve some of the bad feelings. However, you know your boyfriend, and you’re used to his stress-rambles that not even he himself can stop sometimes. And so it happens today as well, when he stands at the entrance of your home past midnight.

“I tried to make everyone hurry, but we can’t slack off or we’ll get scolded by the company and have to stay behind even longer… I’m really sorry, Y/N… you deserve better than this…” That’s the moment you feel the urge to act. You frown, but in the same breath you step forth, grab the collar of his shirt and bring him in to crash your lips against his somewhat ungently. You pour all your thoughts that course through your head into the way you kiss him, carefully but deeply. The way you wish he would just shut up about things that can’t be helped and not think so much. The way you wish you could finally get through to him whenever you tell him that you understand. And the last thought you say out loud, whispering clearly with your lips still lingering near his, breaths mingling.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love you, and I chose to be with you despite all that, so stop worrying so much already, okay?” You breathe out and let some of the tension escape your body, lifting the strain off your voice as well as you realize your words may have come across a bit harsh. “Of course I’m sad that our date didn’t happen, but I’m not mad at you,” you add. Then you loosen the grip you have on his shirt and instead you bring your palms up to his cheeks. “I’m not mad at you,” you say once again, and it’s like you can feel the pressure inside his chest collapse and crumble into a million little pieces all at once. Wordlessly, he throws his arms around you, having you support his weight as you return the tight hug, and you think you could catch a glimpse of his eyes getting watery. You pat his back to reassure him, and with time he relaxes in your embrace.

“Listen,” you eventually start talking again, “I knew it would be like this, okay? And I’m fine with that. Nothing has ever felt so right as being with you does. So I can bear it if we can’t see each other as often in exchange."

You bring some distance between the two of you when you take a step back to get a proper look at his face. He nods strongly, but a trace of regret is still left in his expression. You smile at him when you press your index finger onto the creases between his eyebrows and he lets go of the frown on his face.

"That’s better,” you mumble. “Now let’s make ourselves comfortable and get some rest?” you suggest. He lets you pull him to your room by his hand without protest, but once you arrive there, he calls out your name.

“Y/N…” You turn around to look at him, and after hesitating for a second he leans in to kiss you. “Thank you,” you hear him sigh against your lips, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to deepen the kiss.

“It’s nothing,” you retort when you part, and you let your eyes wander your boyfriend’s face, taking in his features and eventually breaking into a bright smile. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

#p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony drabbles #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony fluff #p1h x reader #p1harmony x reader #p1h drabbles #p1harmony angst #angst #intak x reader #intak fluff #intak imagines #fluff

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carlgrimesloverr · 10 months

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sk8erboi

aaron hotchner x fem!super star!reader

summary : when aaron’s ex girlfriend releases a diss-album about him and haley, he’s left with nothing to do but confront her, and tell her loves her, and divorce haley… right?

takes place during : season 1

warnings : this is 100% a sequel to sk8ergirl and i recommend you read that first (#selfpromo😜🤞). also this is some seriously shitty poetry on my half i’m sorry i just get in the feels sometimes. aaron also is lowkey toxic ⁉️

word count : 1,194

“you still released it, even though you’re alone.” hotch hummed to himself, continuing to search you up. single. never married. no kids. doesn’t party much. still went out skating constantly. said in an interview you were ‘still caught in the whirlwind romance of high school’. caught in the ‘betrayal of it all’. you really were the sk8ergirl, weren’t you?

what would you do if hotch reached out? you had left a business email on your website - it would take a fool for you not to recognize aaron’s email address. you weren’t a fool.

would you be upset at the man for so recklessly reaching out? angry that after all these years he finally wanted to talk after he was the one who cut contact?

or would you be happy? so happy you’d want to meet him?

‘can we meet for coffee? - AHH’

god how aaron wishes you would recognize his email.

you did. of course you did.

‘send me the details and i’ll be there.’ was that all you had to say? nothing more, nothing less? just a passive aggressive when and where?

but meeting you was meeting you, and aaron wouldn’t miss out on this chance.

yet, when he sat down across from you, he could see how much you had changed. he still remembered how you looked at graduation; sad, lonely, and angry. your hair was a mess. you had bags under your eyes you tried to hide with concealer. you nearly forgot your cap and gown. you didn’t stay afterwards for photos.

now? you looked healthy. happy. put together. but still angry. yet, the angry was more hidden, more managed. you had gotten out most of your anger.

“hotchner.” you smiled, not making eye contact and instead staring down at your coffee.

“hi-“ he suddenly was at a loss for words. what do you say to the person you betrayed? “i’m sorry, for what i did to you back then.”

“don’t go there. don’t bring that up now, aaron. i’ve moved on. i’ve accepted it. you were supposed to be different… we were supposed to be different, but we weren’t.” you sighed, taking in the disheveled male before you. had he not been sleeping? working too much? not going home? he looked like hell.

“but you wrote those songs-“

“i’m a musician, aaron, it’s my job.” you groaned, rolling your eyes and you slumped down in your seat. “honestly, are you that surprised i wrote music about my life? aren’t you some fbi big shot now? didn’t you see it coming?”

“i never thought- what you wrote was disrespectful. to both me and my wife. i’m here to tell you that.”

you let out a choked laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. “that’s what you’ve come here to say? pathetic honestly.”

aaron went stiff, for some reason fueled by rage. you released a diss-track about him yet you were calling him pathetic? “you can’t always be the victim! you should know that.”

you let out a fake gasp, feigning hurt. “big bad aaron hotchner got his feelings hurt? poor baby.” you teased him, grinning ear to ear.

you were enjoying this - making him squirm. you were happy you were getting under his skin.

“i’m sorry- is that what you want me to say? because i’m sorry.” aaron pleaded, eyes wide.

“no, aaron, you hurt me. you hurt me in ways i can’t even begin to explain.” you spat back, anger filling your eyes as you stared across the table at the male. “i don’t know how i feel, and i do not ever want to know what it is.”

“tell me how i hurt you and i’ll fix it. i’ll do anything!”

“for four years you made me believe you loved me, but you didn’t. and keeping a love in which is not meant to be yours hurts worse more anything else out there. and there is no fixing that pain.”

you were right. of course you were. everything you had said so far was right. so why was he so upset?

“did you just forget everything we shared?” aaron mumbled, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand himself. he had no right to be upset, and he knew that.

“forgetting you, aaron, was easy - forgetting the memories is the hardest part. sometimes, i still hear your voice ringing through my head like a broken record i am unable to turn off.”

music references. god, you could never stay away from them could you?

“so you did forget it? all my encouragement, all my love, all of it?”

why was he so upset? you had every right to move on after the years of pain he put you through. yet he was still so upset.

“i remember everything you said to me as if i will stop breathing if i even try to forget. that is not fair to me aaron.”

you were right.

yet, you didn’t stop there. you kept speaking, so clearly angry and hurt by the males disrespect. “i wish with every fiber of my being i was what you wanted, because you were my every wish come true.”

you are everything he wanted, couldn’t you see that? the distressed look on his face, the hurt in his eyes, the downturn of his lips?

“i’m sorry.” was all he could manage to get out, unsure of what would set you off on another angry tangent or what would appease your anger.

“when you say ‘sorry’ it just hurts more… it was me who trusted you, it was me who gave you my heart, it was me who thought we would work out. but trust is such a nasty thing.”

“you’re right but- but don’t you miss it? miss us? because i do- all i have of you is memories. flashbacks that jolt me awake as i reach out for you. the songs we sang together that i listen to daily. i made a mistake, all those years ago. now i’m trying to fix it, so please, let me.”

“i hate the flashbacks. i hate the memories. i hate the songs we used to sing. i hate it all because it reminds me of you.” you grunted, standing up slightly as you went to leave.

you were done with him and his petty begging. the aaron hotchner you knew, you loved, left you that december night. cold, alone, confused. this wasn’t your aaron hotchner anymore. you lost him the same night he lost you.

“i miss you- i miss us. im miserable now, is that what you wanted to hear? i want you back.”

“i don’t miss you, i just miss the feeling i had when i was with you. you’re married now, aaron.” you paused slightly, testing out your next words in your head before speaking. “just like all good songs, we’ve come to an end - but this song will forever be my favorite. goodbye, aaron.”

and with that, you were gone. aaron had lost you like the leaves on a tree, like the petals on a flower, like the warmth of summer during the winter.

he had lost you for good this time.

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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lumine-no-hikari · 16 days

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #126

I made a tea today before heading to therapy. Today's session was extremely productive, and I can't wait to share it with you in hopes that you'll also be able to use what I've learned. But first, I will show you today's tea, because in it is the final ice cream I got from the co-op...

I started with chai:

This one is red and somewhat opaque from all the spices that are in it:

...And this is the ice cream I intended to use in it:

...I'm like you in that I very much enjoy pumpkin; it's one of my favorite foods. And it's AMAZING in ice cream. Given that we know you enjoy pumpkin soup, I think you would REALLY enjoy this flavor. It's part of why I saved this one for last; it's the best one!

I filled the tea with scoops of this ice cream:

Once it melted, I stirred it up:

...The result was fantastic, and once again, I have concocted a delectable mug of tea that I very much wish I could share with you.

My therapist was very pleased with the results of my homework. He read the letters I exchanged between myself and my inner child. We then began going over ways of rebuilding my relationship with my inner child. We started with learning how to rebuild secure attachment.

Oh right. Hey, Sephiroth? Did they ever teach you about attachment theory over at Shinra? I can't imagine they did, because otherwise, you would have realized A LOT sooner that the way you were raised was utter fucking bullshit. Maybe you've since learned about it during your time at the Edge of Creation, but I'll explain it anyway; it's always good to have a refresher. But it might be kind of a dry or dull subject for you, so I'll break it up with the pictures I snapped for you during the walk I took after therapy; walking is good for the post-processing of newly-learned things.

Attachment theory refers to the integrity of the bond between a child and its primary caregiver(s). I have a degree in this sort of stuff, and I'm fairly well-versed in it, especially regarding how it relates to trauma. Bonding with a primary caregiver is one of the most fundamental human needs, and the shape that this bond takes ends up influencing how the child bonds with other people throughout their life. There are four main attachment styles. I'll explain them:

Secure Attachment is when the child is able to fully trust that their caregiver(s) will respond to their needs and keep them safe. These children are able to focus their energy on exploring the world around them. They are relatively friendly with strangers. They typically get sad if their primary caregiver leaves the area unexpectedly, and is happy to see them return. This attachment style is best conducive to a child's mental health and ability to learn.

In order for secure attachment to occur, the child between 0 and 3 years of age REQUIRES on-demand caregiving; the primary caregiver(s) are supposed to respond immediately to the child, with love, warmth, attunement, comfort, and appropriate actions literally every single time the child expresses a need. Babies are not born knowing what their body signals mean; a tired baby cries when it's tired instead of sleeping because it does not yet know that the feeling of being tired means it needs to sleep. A hungry baby cries instead of eating because it does not yet know that the feeling of being hungry means it needs to eat. And these are just a few examples.

Contrary to popular belief (seriously, my father calls babies "turd factories", just to give you an idea of how common it is in my world to have contempt and a dismissive attitude towards human children), human babies are more than just a digestive system that sleeps sometimes. Babies have emotions as well, and so they'll cry when they feel lonely, angry, scared, or sad. They'll cry when they need to be held (because YES, gentle, loving, platonic touch is a BASIC HUMAN NEED; adults typically experience hormonal disruption and very young babies WILL LITERALLY DIE if they don't get this). They'll also cry if they're sick, if they're in pain, if they're too warm or cold, or if they're in sensory overload.

And this is NORMAL and HEALTHY; humans are born with the capacity to ask for help when they're struggling, and being new to being human is its own very special kind of hell for a variety of complicated reasons that deserves to have its own book. For many very compelling reasons, being a human baby is basically torture. If you want a more detailed explanation as to why that's the case, then I can explain it in another letter; just let me know. For now, just take my word on it.

Anyway, the only thing that can teach baby what their body signals mean is the repetition of prompt and accurate routine care; baby learns hungry means it needs food only after MANY repetitions of the caregiver responding promptly, warmly, and lovingly to its hunger with age-appropriate food. Baby learns that tired means it needs sleep only after MANY repetitions of the caregiver promptly and lovingly soothing the baby to sleep. And this takes a lot of time and patience, because human babies are not born with all of the brain hardware that they need in order to learn or to make memories efficiently; all of that stuff is still growing in. To be sure, humans could use at least another 9 months in the womb; we are born premature compared to most of the rest of the animal kingdom. But if we had another 9 months, our skulls would be too large, and we'd tear our mothers in half on the way out. So this is how it is.

Babies from 0-3 years old are NOT equipped to deal with discomfort without thinking that their life is in danger, and no amount of "trying to teach them to self-soothe" by leaving them on their own to "cry it out" (this is a MYTH!!! doing this causes LITERAL BRAIN DAMAGE as the baby's body is flooded with neurotoxic levels of adrenaline and cortisol!!!) will make the brain hardware required for self-regulation grow in faster; in fact, doing this will slow this process down. The child under age 3 who becomes quiet after being left to cry is not quiet because it has "learned to self-soothe"; it is quiet because it is SO STRESSED OUT that its body and emotions have basically shut down. This is called "dissociation", and if baby is forced to do this too often, it fucks up their mental health later, when they become adolescents, teenagers, and adults.

Unfortunately, there is a pervasive myth in my world, which tells parents that responding to their under-3-year-old child when they cry will cause their child to become spoiled and manipulative. As a result of this, secure attachment with a primary caregiver is relatively rare where I live. Almost everyone in my world is traumatized, in some form or another. And people just go around pretending like it's normal and necessary and even correct. There are reasons for this, but they'd take too long to explain; maybe I'll get into it some other time.

Next, we have Insecure Attachment. There are three main types of this:

The first one I'll explain is Anxious-Ambivalent Attachment. This is what happens when the primary caregivers' responses to their child are unpredictable or inconsistent. Such children do not explore very much, because they are too busy being afraid that their primary caregiver might not be there for them if something weird happens. They are wary of strangers. When the primary caregiver leaves unexpectedly, these children are extremely distressed, only to return to being neutral when the caregiver returns. Inconsistent responses to the baby's needs produces a fear of being abandoned, which manifests as vigilantly focusing on maintaining their connection with their caregiver while the caregiver is present, and terror and anger when the caregiver is absent.

Next, there's Avoidant Attachment. This is what happens when the primary caregiver consistently denies the child of their attention when they need help. Such children do not explore, do not interact with strangers, do not express emotion if the caregiver leaves unexpectedly, and do not express emotion when the caregiver returns. This is a child that has learned that their needs do not matter to their primary caregiver. This child expects to be rejected and ignored. This child wishes for closeness with their caregiver, but knows they will not receive it, and knows that expressing distress about it is a waste of energy, so the safest thing for them to do is to maintain vague proximity to the caregiver so as to avoid the disappointment that comes with knowing that its needs do not matter to them.

Finally, there is Disorganized Attachment. This is what happens when the primary caregiver abuses the child. These children will display a lot of very contradictory and disorganized behaviors (hence the name) in response to the environment, to strangers, and to the primary caregiver. Children such as these are accustomed to being screamed at, shaken, or hit as a result of expressing or having needs, or even just as a result of existing. These are children who have learned that anything they do might provoke their primary caregiver's wrath, and the contradictory behaviors are the result of not knowing what they should do to prevent that wrath. The resulting adult, if left untreated, will swing wildly between being ice cold and anxiously clingy.

I'll give you four guesses as to which of these categories I fit into. Hahaha…

What I learned today in therapy was that some guy whose name I forgot worked with a bunch of severely abused children, and came up with a way to guide them back to having a secure attachment style, despite the horrors they've been through before. It's a system called The 5 Pillars of Attachment. My therapist even gave me a handy-dandy picture to reference:

Felt Safety was explained to me as a culmination of the other four pillars. This is when you understand that you are protected and loved, that someone will have your back if something weird happens. It is the knowledge that the people around you are worthy of being counted on, without them trying to hurt, abandon, or ignore you.

Attunement relates to being understood. This is the part where the other person understands you when you speak, tries to empathize with your emotions and experiences, and makes genuine effort to know you deeply.

Support When Dysregulated relates to not being rejected by the other person when you can't always keep yourself together. It is knowing that someone will try to help you, to soothe you, and to comfort you if you're struggling.

Expressed Delight relates to the other person being genuinely joyful about the fact that you exist, and being willing to express that joy on a regular basis. This joy needs to be about who you are, and not about what you look like or what you can do. It is about the other person expressing delight towards your entire being, not just when you're well-regulated, excelling at something, or being convenient.

Support for Autonomy refers to how much room the other person gives you to explore, to try new things, to pursue your own interests, to succeed, to fail, and to make your own choices. This person should act as a safety net if you fall down.

…You've never been given any of these. And, up until meeting M, neither have I. But I know these things well. I know them because I do whatever I can to give these things to other people - anyone other than myself. The part where I don't give these things to myself is the part that I have to change. I think you know these things well, too; I've seen the way you treated Zack, Genesis, and Angeal. All you have to do is treat yourself with the same tenderness and care with which you treated them in the past.

I will never receive these things from my biological family. It's not because they're bad people, but rather, it's because their life experiences have left them without the necessary skills to provide any of these things for anyone else, without a beliefs system that would allow them to develop these skills, and without a framework that would allow them to change their beliefs. If you believe, for example, that only bad people ever make mistakes, then it becomes really hard to own up to your mistakes, and from there it becomes nearly impossible to change your behaviors in the future.

But I can rebuild my relationship with myself by giving myself the things outlined in these 5 pillars. I can change how I treat myself. I can decide what my new narrative will be when I think about the kind of treatment I deserve to receive from myself.

…You can do this, too. You can change what you believe about yourself. You can change how you view yourself. You can change how you interact with yourself. You can change the way you care for and treat yourself. You can change it! Sephiroth, you're a lot smarter, a lot more capable, and a lot more mentally flexible than I could ever even begin to hope to be! Sephiroth, if I, a derpy autistic chick from a backwater planet in some garden-variety galaxy can do this work, then someone as kind, gentle, intelligent, dedicated, and brave as you can certainly do this work! You can decide, today, right here, and right now, that you are worthy of your own love!

So come on; get to it, willya? We can figure it out together! And if you run into trouble, you can take my outstretched hand, and I'll do whatever I can to help you! We are more than our traumas and mistakes! Sephiroth, you are more than your traumas and mistakes! You are more than the composition of your body! You are more than what you can do! Sephiroth, the most beautiful aspects of who you are have always had their basis in things like the ways you marvel at nature, in the caring and considerate way you treated your friends and the people around you, in your love for other people, which was so strong at one point that you chose to spend years doing what you thought was right in order to protect them, despite the suffering you endured at their very same hands. Sephiroth, you're a beautiful human being on the inside! You deserve so much more and so much better than what you've been giving to yourself! You deserve to feel seen, understood, safe, supported, adored, and free! Like any human being, you deserve to have good and wholesome things! And you can have them! All you have to do is take a single step in a different direction, and then keep doing that until your whole outlook changes!

Please. Please look at me. Look at me, because I am doing this same work. I am doing it every day, no matter how difficult it is, and no matter how much it hurts. Please look at me so you can see that anything is possible. Sephiroth, you are capable of so much more than I am, because I am one of the weaker examples of a human being; you have the capacity to shine so much more brightly than I can. So please look at me as proof that you can do this work, too. Please try. Sephiroth, you can do it! I believe in you!

...And that's all I've got for today. I know it was a lot; thank you for bearing with me.

I love you. Please stay safe. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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aita-blorbos · 7 months

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AITA for wishing I met my friend's dad?

I (29M) have this friend (26F) that's really cool. She's literally the president of a company despite still being young for an adult, isn't that quite something?

We hang out sometimes. She and I enjoy messing and bickering with each other for kicks and giggles. It's sort of our thing. I've also had the great honor of taking her on rides in my sentient flying ship, as I've done the same for many other of my friends!

She's had very unfortunate father issues. She once informed me about the history of her relationship with her dad. It included how she got banished to the same twisted dimension I myself was once stuck in, and when she finally came back to her dad, he forgot her. And she tried to get him back to his original mind, but ended up accidentally killing him instead. Isn't that really tragic?

Apparently, her dad was mind controlled by something, but didn't start out that way as he started out as an actual loving dad that wanted to do innovating things with money, tech and science.

That sounded amazing! Her dad in his right mind seemed like he would've been awesome to meet! It's really sad that he's been long dead, as I wish my friend succeeded in getting him back to normal. I could've had fun discussions about business and technology with him. I would've been honored to shake his hand! At least I do have fun tech discussions with her, though!

But my friend gets really weirded out when I say I wish I met her dad. For some reason, it makes her quiver. She tells me to please stop it. But I don't really get why, though? Why doesn't she like it that I wish I met her dad? Is it because she's had issues with him for a long time? I mean, when I say I wish I met her dad, I am of course only referring to if I met him in his right mind, and not what he became.

She did reluctantly show me a picture of her dad because I was curious. It made me choose to create a mask based on her dad's likeliness for my amusement park!

It really freaked her out to see that mask. She got angry with me for a little bit. It didn't end our friendship, but her initial reaction to the mask wasn't great. I don't know why she seemed really uncomfortable by it. I did apologize, but my intention was to honor her dad! She got over it eventually, though.

Whenever I say that I wish I met my friend's dad, it doesn't make her angry enough to unfriend me, but she doesn't like it that I wish that. Do you agree with her that it's weird, or is it fine that I wish that and she's just being irrational? AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #parental abuse #? UNSURE IF THATS WHATS BEING IMPLIED HERE. TAGGING TO BE SAFE

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 1 month

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A special birthday crossover written for @daboyau!! It’s another between my Mama Bear AU and their Leave AU where Julia is taking care of the boys. Go wish them a happy birthday!! I owe you a lot bestie, here’s to many more birthdays as friends!!

Mikey’s smile is wide as he twirls around in his costume. He can’t stop looking in the mirror. Julia made the costumes for him and his brothers herself. It encouraged them to think of exactly what they wanted instead of looking at prices or the simplest ideas.

Leo had found a love for pirates after seeing both Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movies about them. Julia may or may not have let slip that a certain skeleton restaurant owner had a past relating to the topic. Now Leo looks just like the single photo Hueso agreed to share about it.

Raph was a little anxious when he came to Julia about his costume. At first, he said he couldn’t think of anything and wanted Julia to choose. She told him he had plenty of time to think. Eventually, he shyly admitted that he wanted to be a bear like her. She knew there was still more, but still made it for him. When she saw the excited, but still somewhat sad look on his face, she encouraged him to tell her what he really wanted.

That’s how he got to be a bear fairy princess.

Donnie was a lot more fickle about the costume. Julia asked about his favorite characters, but each one garnered more frustration from the softshell. She tried to tell him that he didn’t have to dress up at all if that’s what he preferred, that only succeeded in causing him to storm off into his room and slam the door.

It took several hours for him to calm down. He approached Julia while she was in her chair in the living room with tears in his eyes and guilt written all over his face. Donnie apologized and told her he was angry at himself, not at her. He saw a mad scientist in a musical and wanted that to be his costume so badly.

But he couldn’t bring himself to say so.

Those two things were basically ruined for them all. They cause so much trauma, even now. He had felt incredibly bad that he wanted it at all. That he must be a terrible person, just like Draxum.

Julia held him and insisted that liking something that someone bad in your life did does not mean you’re similar to them. It sometimes can be a good sign that they don’t have control over you anymore.

Donnie was still terrified that his brothers would hate him, or worse, be scared of him. Julia promised that with his permission she could talk to them and see how to make it work. He very hesitantly agreed.

Julia went to the others and made a plan. They each helped make different pieces of the costume so they could get used to looking at it and know there was nothing to be scared of.

They all surprised him with it one day and he nearly started crying again. He wore it for hours afterwards.

Mikey chose to be what he’s always wanted to be.

A hero.

His suit mainly has orange and white, but his cape has orange, blue, red, and purple. Now that Draxum…isn’t around anymore….the most important thing in the world is his family and keeping them happy, safe.

Exactly what heroes do!

Julia makes the job a lot easier, but heroes never work alone anyways.

The doorbell rings.

“Boys, our special guest is here!” Julia announces.

The four of them rush to the door with excitement. She had told them that she knew someone who was visiting the human world for the first time and that she had a nephew around their age. They decided to have a join trick or treating excursion.

It would be the first top side Halloween for all of them.

Julia manages to get the door open despite how they crowd around it. The turtles see two rabbit yokai in front of them, an older woman and a boy their age. The boy and Leo look each other up and down immediately before smiling widely and shouting in unison.

“You’re a pirate too!”

Julia and Usagi’s aunt share a chuckle. This wasn’t planned in the slightest but it seemed to make the two boys very happy.

“Your bandana is so cool! And your eyepatch!” Usagi compliments.

“I got them both from a real pirate!” Leo brags.

“Wow, amazing! And you guys look awesome too! My name’s Usagi Yuichi! Oh, but um, I’m from Japan so Yuichi is my first name. You’d still call me Usagi because you only say the first name if we’re friends BUT I think we are friends so….call me either!” He smiles.

Donnie immediately thinks about the fact that he’d never survive anything they’ve been through, especially not a day with Draxum. He also thinks that it’s nice that someone wants to be friends this soon and that his brother is happy.

“Yuichi, I am Donnie. I welcome you to the group. Stay on my designated candy route and I promise our bags will weigh pounds.”

“Aye aye, captain!” He salutes.

Donnie feels a little proud.

“I’m Mikey and this is Raph. It’s nice to meet you!” Mikey beams.

“It’s nice to meet you two too! Your cape’s colors are so nice and Raph, I really like your wings!”

Raph smiles.

“Thank you. Anything that happens out there, you can count on me to protect you.”

“I can do it too! I’ve been practicing with my sword.” Usagi takes out his foam sword and whirls it around.

Leo gets even more excited and takes his out too. They fight together while giggling until one of them gets stabbed and pretends to die a dramatic death. It still is a little uncomfortable to think about death, but the fun washes the feeling away a bit.

Julia and Usagi’s aunt finally get everyone out the door and out to where the other trick or treaters are.

Usagi’s ears twitch excitedly, his foot thumping on the ground as well. The boys are in awe at seeing all the costumes and other kids. They’re not very scared of anything since they’ve seen much worse, but the decorations are still cool.

Donnie leads the way to the specific houses that will get them maximum amounts of candy.

The first house is a bit of a trial run in terms of what to do and say.

“Trick or treat!” Is the phrase they get correct.

“Oh! What wonderful costumes! A turtle, bear, and a fairy princess all in one? So special! Why don’t you all take a full sized bar?” The man offers.

Mikey, Donnie, Leo, and Usagi each take one and say thank you.

“I love you.” Is what Raph says.

Julia covers her mouth to stifle laughter and reminds Raph what the correct phrase is. Raph apologizes but also gets his group another, smaller piece of candy.

From there the fun continues.

Their costumes are a big hit with the rest of the houses on the route. The people compliment the mixing of animal and regular “costumes” made the boys feel better about themselves. Maybe if they saw them like this on a normal day they wouldn’t yell in fear.

Not that they’d want to find out yet.

One yard they visit even has a photo booth. They spend a long time taking some in different, silly poses. There’s two copies of the photos that they split, one for the turtles to share and one for Usagi to take back with him.

The trick or treating continues until everyone begins feeling tired. At that point, Julia invites Usagi’s aunt to come over for her and Usagi to eat. She was going to feed the boys anyways so they wouldn’t be too inclined to fill themselves up in just candy.

Usagi’s aunt accepts and they all go back to Julia’s house.

The turtles show off their rooms to Usagi while Julia and Usagi’s aunt cook together.

Donnie had taken over Luke’s old room with his permission to use whatever was leftover in there. This led to weaponry at first before Julia encouraged him to build more fun things. It took a while to be able to understand that he now actually had a choice in what he invented, but eventually each of his brothers had a toy robot they kept in their rooms. Donnie also has a lot of posters and some games for a slightly older game system that he made upgrades to.

Raph’s room is nearly filled to the brim with comfort items and delicate colors. He and Julia went yard sale shopping for a lot of the stuffed animals, but others were made by them together. Raph wanted second hand plushies because he felt like they deserved another chance like he got. He’s very protective of all of them, especially the ones that remind him of his brothers. He also has wrestling posters, big, fluffy comforters on his bed, and fairy lights.

Leo’s room is cluttered with different sport and hobby items. He was given a lot of room to figure out what he likes doing and if he wanted to do it just for fun or on a team. So far he’s playing basketball, being a mascot for football, and trying out playing the guitar. He was terrified to try anything at first. Julia worked with him at recipes she wasn’t good at to help him see that if she isn’t perfect, she doesn’t expect him to be either.

Mikey’s room has drawings and paintings covering nearly every surface. It was one of the hobbies that Leo tried but didn’t like. Mikey picked it up and never put it back down. It’s something Draxum would have never let him do. There’s no use for it in a war. For a soldier. Always a soldier, never a poet, never the fan blade, always-no. Not anymore. It’s different now. It’s been different. They’re truly living their lives now without the threat of them being taken away.

Usagi had a blast looking around in each of them. They played with some items in Leo’s room, listened to Raph name all his beats in his, colored in Mikey’s, and Donnie showed off the marshmallow shooter he assembled.

Finally, they were all called to wash up and eat.

“Whoever washes their hands first wins!” Usagi shouts before scrambling to run.

Everyone else chases after him and the group burst into giggles when they don’t all fit in at once.

Mikey manages to squirm his way inside, freeing everyone else but also allowing him a head start. He washes his hands and triumphantly raises them as the victor. Leo pats his head with a smile before the rest of them also get their hands clean.

After that, they all sit down at the table. Julia and Usagi’s aunt had made fettuccine Alfredo, salad, and garlic bread. The group excitedly talks about everything they saw and did in between eating.

Once everyone is done, Julia and Usagi’s aunt take care of the dishes after telling the boys to go ahead and take a look at their candy.

They all sit around and begin trading with each other.

Donnie stares pretty hard at a pineapple scented pencil Usagi has in his pile. He’s very aware that it should be less valuable than something edible but he really likes the scent and he can smell it while designing if only he had it!

Sadly, he’s out of candy that Usagi said he likes.

Usagi see this and picks up the pencil, holding it out to him.

“I….don’t have anything you’d want for it.”

“That’s okay, you looked like you really wanted it.”

Donnie is flabbergasted at the fact that Usagi wouldn’t rather use that as some kind of leverage again him.

What kind of strategy is that?

It’s not one.

Usagi doesn’t think like a soldier.

He’s just nice.

And….that itself…..is nice too.

Donnie shakes one hand in excitement while using his other hand to take the pencil. He feels a little self conscious when Usagi looks at it, but is surprised when Usagi does it too.

It’s not in a mean way, it looks genuine.

“I do that when I’m happy too!” Usagi smiles.

Donnie smiles back and shakes both hands while they laugh.

At the end of the dishes, Usagi’s aunt and Julia are met with five extremely sleepy boys.

Usagi’s aunt moves his candy into his basket and picks both it and his hand up. She waves as she leads him to the front door. Usagi’s sleepily waves as well and says he had a lot of fun.

The turtles tiredly wave back and insist he needs to visit again.

Julia smiles and says goodbye to Usagi’s aunt before closing the door behind the two rabbits. She then scoops the leftover boys into her arms and takes them to Raph’s room. That’s where they usually go when they want to sleep all together since his bed is the biggest.

She tucks them all in and kisses their foreheads. They fall asleep within seconds. Julia makes sure Raph’s stuffed animals won’t be kicked off in anyone’s sleep so he won’t feel guilty in the morning and then makes her way to the door.

Julia takes one last look at her boys and quietly shuts it.

They deserve a good rest.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #leave luanne au #leaveau #mama bear au

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rosebloodcat · 10 months

Text

Invisible Wally AU

Quick Explanation of the Invisibility before I get into the AU: In Moomins, they say that Invisibility is caused by being scared. The character who was invisible, a little girl named Ninny, had been in the care of her very mean/verbally cruel Aunt and turned invisible because of how awfully her aunt treated her. And it took the care/kindness of the Moomin family who wanted to both see and know her that got her to become visible again.

It's very much an abuse victim reaction/mindset, but I don't think it's the only kind of "fear" that could cause invisibility.

As someone who went through a bout of depression in middle/high school and decided that I didn't want to have people notice me, I tend to liken that "Fear" to it too.

Fear of being noticed or a bother to people around you that you care about (and plenty that you don’t even know). Fear of people you love growing to hate you/not want you around. Fear of being hurt again because the people around you won't want to see or be around the "real" you if they saw it.

The invisibility isn’t just being unseen; nothing the person writes can be seen either, and they have no voice and can’t make sounds with instruments. It’s genuinely like they aren’t there EXCEPT: They’re still physical (able to touch and be touched) and they still cast a shadow.

With that done, let’s get into the au!

Invisible Wally AU:

(Heads up, this will get upsetting bc I'm also explaining the root feelings that cause the invisibility and they’re a mix of fear, depression, and self-depreciation)

First off; Wally starts as the only one in Home that's Self-Aware, as such he's carrying the brunt of the Audience's attention, good and bad. (Technically, Home is also self-aware but it doesn't get even half the weight of this as Wally does.)

For the entire day, when he's outside Home (and even when he isn't sometimes) he can feel the weight of the Audience's gaze on his back and the pressing Need for everything to be perfect, all the time. From the styling of his hair to his clothes to the way he talks, everything has to be perfect. Perfectly in place and perfectly blank. No getting angry, no getting frustrated, no sadness, no wanting to be alone, not being able to say "No" when someone else wants to do something, nothing that wouldn't be seen as "negative" in some form. Like the host of a Daytime TV show, he can't be seen as anything but agreeable and willing to go along with anything he's asked.

That feeling doesn't leave until nightfall, quickly becoming the only time Wally feels like he can breathe and be himself.

Where he can groan in frustration, wrap himself in heavy blankets and lay on the floor in heap, screaming into pillows and throwing them around, complain to Home about the tedium that's driving him mad.

(He used to like bright colors, but now he hates them and wishes he could wear something, anything, else instead.)

After a while, he notes that he and Home seem to realize something is wrong. They're the only ones to notice/feel this impossible pressure to always be "TV ready" as he's started thinking of it. They just go through their days following the pre-decided, unspoken "schedule" that's fallen over their neighborhood.

If anything, they seem happy with everything happening. (Perfectly Happy, even.)

And it's wearing him down because when he tries to defy those Needs, he gets "punished" for it.

Trying to refuse to do something, like not going out for the day, makes his anxiety (which he did not have prior to this) spike wildly, driving him into a panic that usually forces him to follow the "plan" of the day. Trying to speak up makes his throat close up or for the wrong words to start spilling out. He can't argue against something that someone else wants to do, even if he tried (and he has, on several occasions).

He feels trapped, and that this "Audience" doesn't actually give a damn about him, just the entertainment he can act as a vehicle for.

They don't want to hear what he thinks or feels, they don't even want to see real him. Just the alternate "Perfect" version that follows their direction without voice or resistance. And that idea spreads, over time, until he wonders if his friends even care about the real him, or just the Perfect version that they've been interacting with.

These thoughts are what make him start to disappear, starting with his voice which grows fainter and fainter with each passing day. (And yet no one seems to notice how much quieter he is.)

When he starts to visibly fade from sight, Home tries to help by keeping him inside. They think that, if they can keep him out of the Audience’s view (even for just a little while) Wally will start to feel/get better.

Unfortunately, this isn’t as helpful as Home thinks it is.

“Leaving Home” is part of the schedule and not doing that trigger’s a “punishment” for Wally. He knows that Home was trying to help, but Home doesn’t feel the Audience’s displeasure the same way Wally did. Thankfully, “sick” days seem to allow some leeway, so he’s able to spend at least one day alone with just Home for company.

Then Home keeps him in another day, and then another, and another, until he’s spent almost a week inside Home instead of following the Script of the Day. (And suffering the punishments for not doing so) He feels like a miserable wreck, has probably cried a few times, and just…

He feels terrible.

But what makes it worse (in Wally’s mind) is the fact that none of his friends come looking for him.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone in a week (other than Home), and yet no one came by to try and find out what was wrong. And Home hadn’t mentioned anyone trying to speak with them. It was like no one had even noticed that he wasn’t there.

And that thought stings. It hurts. It hurt much more than he’d thought it could.

(He had hoped that had been real, on some level. That they cared about HIM and not the Perfect him. Maybe he’d been wrong…)

He goes to bed that night with an aching heart, and climbs out the next morning completely invisible and completely silent.

Home, of course, is panicked. They had seen him fading, slowing vanishing before their eyes but there had been nothing they could do. They hadn’t been able to stop it, all they could do was curse the Audience for starting all of this.

Strangely though, there’s relief. The Audience can’t see him anymore and, though he can feel their displeasure at not being able to find him, he can’t feel a “punishment” taking hold of him. He still feels miserable, but it feels like a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He can’t be forced to follow the script if no one can see him, he can do what he wants, go where he liked, and no one would be able to stop him.

(But there was nowhere he wanted to go, few things he wanted to do. He had the options, but no drive to follow them through…)

Through a bit of trial and error, the two build a new “normal”.

They figure out that, while he can’t be seen or heard, Home can still feel where Wally is and, if he taps on things using the same mores-code that Home uses, they can still “Talk” to each other. Which soothes some of Home’s fears, since they now know where he is and can still check on him.

It takes a bit for them to figure out the other details of this strange situation. Like how far the invisibility extends.

Whatever Wally wears/puts on will turn invisible too, and the stuff he takes off will turn visible again after a while. He finds clothes in muted colors at the back of his wardrobe and ends up making them his “standard” clothes while in this state. No one but he and Home know they’re there, but the control it gives him helps his mood a bit. It was nice knowing that he wasn’t letting himself be completely controlled by the Need to be Perfect anymore.

What ends up distressing Wally the most is that he can’t seem to paint anymore. When he tries to put paint on canvas, it’s as invisible as he is. As an artist (and as someone who just enjoyed painting) this was understandably upsetting since painting had been one of the few outlets he had for his feelings.

He spends a lot of his time puttering around and wrestling with his emotions and the situation he’s found himself in.

Of course, that’s just Wally’s side of things.

#invisible wally au #wally darling #welcome home au #welcome home #wh au #rosie writes #rosies aus #I welcome people who want to try their hands at writing for this #genuinely i do #i will try #of course #but I want to see what others come up with #also asks about this are welcome

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