❝ 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄. 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍?❞
❝ let our feet dance, hearts beat as one as the engine sways within the background. let our lips entwine, heart race, but not forget about the mere words w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
10.5k words: synopsis of acts: mental breakdowns, crying, realisation, angst, slight physical neglect, manipulating, angry sex, slapping, unprotected sex, missionary, cumming on face, grinding, softcore, slight rough sex, crying during intimacy, doggy style, riding, low self-esteem, slight fluff, the feeling of warmth, the feeling of not belonging, ptsd, humiliation, anger, regret. a/n: I promise the recurring smut has meaning. plus, the smut will aid the plot. thanks for 100k on the hills; I'm still trying to publish my drafts. I have like seven completed the hills drafts. read with caution. vote.
A few hours had passed, and Franco remained within your arms, purring as he fell asleep on your bed. You took comfort in the fact that he was helping you soothe your sadness. Though you were destined to go into college, you didn't desire to face Armin. You felt humiliated by how he had treated you at that very moment. He had grown momentarily bitter, willing to leave you desolate with ease. Moreover, many people were still discussing your situation with Eren, wishing death upon you, the lady.
You changed your mind, you didn't desire to go into college today — you felt mentally impaired. As you rethink the situation, your heart and body ache, in excruciating pain, from how looked over you felt. You solely didn't have the strength to go through with attempting to remain mentally stable, just for the day.
You couldn't even keep up your slight convincing act yesterday, faltering and never going back to class with Armin. Not an ounce of you desired to set your eyes upon him, once more, especially as you felt somewhat devalued, nothing more than something he was able to gain easy access to, with swift words.
Everything always heavily involved him. You couldn't help but want to pathetically cry; you thought about him and his far-from-innocent transgressions. It was just so embarrassingly dehumanising as he fled, dealing with you as if you were no more than an unpleasing sex doll. A sex doll that was set to rebuild itself. All for the next time he yearned for the way your body desperately latched upon him, placating him in an unfathomable way.
"Wake up!" You heard from your door as you faced the wall, stroking Franco's fur. Mikasa remained by your doorframe, able to sense that something was heavily wrong.
