#like how in just one instant he gets all that fear and regret suddenly only when its already too late and he prays for another chance...... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

huggybearsunshine · 2 years

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Yours

[Sequal to Mine] Dean says the wrong thing and ends up needing some advice on how to be better.

Halfway through their meal, Dean had learned two things. That introducing Cas to new foods was going to be one of his favorite things and that he was starting to like having Cas there to sooth his mind when it started to take a turn.

His realizations seemed to also brighten the celestial within him, but it was like the Angel was trying to reel it in. Like his happiness was twinged with fear.

He wanted to know why but thought it best to have that discussion in private.

Cas’ nerves flared at the thought, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh lightly under his breath.

Sorry, the hunter thought to himself, I basically just pulled a ‘we need to talk’ on you…

Dean was met with Cas’ confusion and it inspired an image of Cas’ scrunched face and tilting head. The Angel’s humor lit within Dean, pulling a smile to his lips.

I forgot thinking it is basically like saying it to you, Dean reassured him silently, You’re so stoic most of the time- the insider knowledge is… I don’t know, it’s kinda fun, I guess…

Dean glanced up to find his Mom’s eyes on him, an expression on her face that he couldn’t place.

“Sorry, did you say something?” he straightened up in his chair.

“No, I’ve just,” she paused but seemed to decide to follow through anyway, “never seen you smile like that.”

Dean’s eyes widened and expression dropped, pulling an instant regret to Mary’s own.

She knows… Dean’s thought passed incriminatingly.

She looked down, busying herself with the fries on her plate.

Knows what?

Sam was painfully quiet and Dean didn’t dare look at him. Not that he could focus with the swarm of emotions coming from both himself and the Angel within.

Dean cleared his throat.

“I uh… I’m just happy everyone’s here and safe,” Dean offered before his thoughts could do any more damage, “Think I might turn in though… Today felt like a million years…”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose where a pressure had begun to build behind his eyes, but the Angel was quick to soothe it.

Thanks, Cas.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Mary touched his hand, and he squeezed before letting it go again.

“She set up in the guest room?” Dean asked, eyes cutting toward his brother as he stood.

“Yeah, get some rest,” Sam nodded, “We’re all good.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, suddenly nervous and swallowing a lump in his throat as he rounded the corner into the hall.

A need gnawed at the back of his mind until he inevitably broke.

“What is it?” he asked as they entered the bedroom and he could close the door behind them.

What Mary said to you… It scared you…

“Did it?” Dean asked, lacking anything better to say.

Yes, and… I’d like to know why if you’ll let me…

The word ‘you’ passed through their mind before he could stop himself.

What about me?

Dean just froze in place at that.

“Where do I start, man?” his resistance finally broke, “I don’t let people in…”

But you let me…

“Always let you,” he whispered gruffly.

Why?

“Because, Cas….” Dean ran a hand over his face.

The sudden rush of anxiety mixed with embarrassment and longing hit Cas as strongly as it did Dean. Only difference is that Dean was very familiar with the why behind this particular feeling.

What is this, Dean?

“You know what it is…”

I don’t… I need you to say it.

Panic set in, and Dean could feel Cas working to try to sooth it which only seemed to fuel the fire of disgust raging away inside him.

“Doesn’t matter…” he found himself hissing, “This isn’t happening.”

Nothing is happening, but Dean… your heart is racing.

“You’re stressing me out!” the hunter exploded.

I’m sorry. That was not my intention.

Dean was practically drowning in Cas’ disappointment and heartbreak.

And I think I understand.

“Cas, I’m-”

I’m going to give you some space…

“Wait, I really didn’t mean it- Cas…”

But the door closed yet again and Dean felt alone.

Way too alone.

“Sammy,” he found himself knocking on his brother’s door and running a hand through his hair.

“Dean?” he appeared in the doorway.

“I need some advice…” he pushed passed him into the room.

“Okay,” Sam eyed him suspiciously.

“Don’t say anything or I won’t be able to do this- seriously not a word,” Dean was stiff and his hands were clenched at his side, “Think you can do that?”

He turned his head to see his brother nod silently.

“Okay, I fucked up… Cas locked himself away ‘cause I’m a complete asshole… I keep shutting him down whenever he sees something I don’t want him to see or asks something I’m not ready for him to ask…” Dean spoke to the ground, “I don’t know what to do and I just keep saying the wrong things… But you’re good at that kind of stuff…”

“What kind of stuff are we talking about here?” Sam asked cautiously after a long enough pause that he thought he was safe to speak.

“Feelings…” Dean’s hand flexed at his side.

“Yeah…” Sam let out a held breath, “Yeah okay… So, first things first. I want you to say it- for yourself.”

“Say it…” Dean clarified dryly.

“Might make it easier to say to him,” Sam shrugged.

“So just say it now… to you?” he turned, looking at him like he was crazy.

“Why not?” Sam spoke patiently, “I’m your brother. Nothing you say is going to change things with us.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean nodded warily, before taking a pause and then a deep, steadying breath, “I’m in love with Cas.”

A breath pushed out of Dean as his words settled, and panicked eyes found Sam’s.

“How’s it feel?” the younger of the brothers asked.

Dean took another deep breath, “I need to talk to Cas…”

“He’s gotta come back sometime,” Sam smirked.

“Right,” Dean shifted awkwardly, “Thanks, Sammy…”

“You’re welcome,” his grin grew into a more genuine smile, “Thanks for telling me.”

He nodded, then a thought, “You said first…” receiving a confused look, he clarified, “‘First thing’s first.’ First- As in second or third.”

“Second was ‘Talk to Cas’,” he replied as if it was obvious.

“Right,” Dean huffed before disappearing through the door.

“Good luck,” his brother’s voice called after him.

“Cas, come back,” he spoke aloud to himself as he stalked down the hallway, “Seriously, man, come on…”

Rounding into his room and shutting the door, he began to pace.

“Cas,” he grunted frustratedly, “How long are you gonna do this?”

He closed his eyes and squared his shoulders, trying to reach out to the Angel’s grace.

He supposed the block was mental, not physical so reaching out could alert him to undo the barrier.

Only problem was that Dean did it in the heat of the moment and wasn’t sure if it would happen again.

But just as he was about to give up, he felt it. A tingle down his spine at first, but what quickly turned to an overflow of liquid lightning overwhelming his senses.

“Cas,” he gasped.

What do you want, Dean?

Cas’ voice was raw and surprise settled over them which Dean would have to ask him about once everything was said and done.

“I want you,” the words dropped like they were made of lead, “I need to tell you… say it…”

Say, what?

“I’m in love with you,” Dean’s heart was pounding, and this time, the Angel didn’t rush to sooth his anxiety.

Instead, everything in him jolted and silence set in as a montage of the Angel’s emotions cycled, too fast for Dean to hold on to any of them.

He was lost, uncertain of what he had just done, and the not knowing proved to be too much.

“Is that okay?” the hunter asked quietly to the long stretch of silence, “You were going to figure out with us… being an us like this so I just needed to say it- get ahead of it, you know? But I’m sorry if this makes things weird…”

No, no it’s not… It doesn’t!

Dean’s anxiety broke as Cas’ thoughts and feelings quieted enough for him to interpret.

I love you too…

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice shook.

What does this mean?

Anxiety mixed with the elation swirling through them.

“What do you want it to mean?”

He was met with a strong panic, colored by the Angel’s uncertainty.

He tried to pour reassurance through the connection like Cas does, but wasn’t sure if it worked.

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Dean smiled warmly, wanting to reach for him for real, “We need to get your body back… This is such a weird way to do this…”

I could try to heal myself in the morning but I’m not charged up enough yet… I would need to-

He tapped the hunter’s soul, sending a shiver up his spine.

“Do it,” Dean replied without missing a beat, and the feeling was immediate.

That same liquid lightning shooting through his body, but something was different this time.

Dean’s knees almost gave out beneath him, making him drop down to sit on his bed.

“Shit,” he breathed out as goosebumps covered his body, and Cas’ thoughts took a turn.

He was imagining Dean’s form with insane accuracy which pushed out a surprised hiss from the hunter.

“How do you know what I look like?” he shuddered out, and felt the cold embarrassment cloud the thoughts in their mind.

I rebuilt you… in hell… I know your every cell, Dean.

“Fuck…” he leaned back until he met the surface of the bed.

A flash in his mind of hands roaming over him had him jolting.

“I felt that…” he gasped.

The mind is a very powerful thing.

Cas’ voice sounded out of body for lack of a better term. Distracted, almost. Dean couldn’t imagine why.

“Cas, I want to… can I…” Cas saw his thoughts and knew exactly what Dean wanted to say but was holding back.

Yes. Please. Touch yourself.

He was met with a moan and Dean’s own roaming hand.

The hunter couldn’t be sure of much after that, too overwhelmed to retain any sort of clarity until he came to, breathing heavily in the aftermath as his body practically hummed.

“Wow…” is all Dean’s rebooting mind would allow, “That felt…”

Incredible.

Cas’ response was quiet but with an underlying contentment to it.

“I wish I could see you…” he added drowsily.

Soon…

“Soon,” his eyes started to flutter as sleep attempted to take him.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Dean didn’t dream. His usual nightmares were nowhere to be found and he woke feeling better rested than he could ever remember before.

Cas…

It was Dean’s first thought and that fluttering feeling started up again in response.

Yes, Dean. I’m here.

“Good,” he groaned, stretching his arms out and feeling his muscles expand.

Oh, that feels nice…

“Yeah, it does,” Dean grinned, face smooshed into the bed, “Wanna try pancakes? Sam bought some blueberries I can steal.”

Cas agreed and a feeling of contentment settled over them.

With a heavy and somewhat begrudging sigh, Dean was on his feet, pulling his jeans on, and heading toward the kitchen.

He yawned as his feet padded onto the cold kitchen floor and it took a second to register that Mary was up. She was seated at the table there, book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other floating halfway between her and the ring it had left on the table.

“Mom,” Dean’s pulse picked up a bit, “Hey.”

“Dean,” she smiled warmly, easing his anxiety at the sight of it, then it seemed to hit her, “And Cas! Good morning!”

This must be so strange for her, Dean caught himself thinking.

Yes, I would imagine so, Cas responded softly.

“Pancakes?” Dean offered, at a lack for words.

“Sure, sounds good,” she nodded.

Turning toward the cabinets, he began pulling things out that he would need when he heard his brother’s approaching footsteps.

“Oh hey,” Sammy pulled his headphones out, clearly post run.

Dean couldn’t bring himself to turn, uncertain of what Sam might say if he did.

You talked to Sam…

Yeah, before I pulled you back… Dean thought to himself.

“Cas back?” Sam asked with a poorly concealed smirk.

“Yep,” Dean answered shortly as he started portioning out the ingredients.

“Back?” Mary looked up in confusion, “He was gone?”

“He can shut himself away,” Sam explained.

“Did you two have a fight?” Mary’s brow knit in concern.

“Small thing, nothing to worry about,” Dean hurried through, “Everything’s good now.”

“Good,” Sam tapped the doorframe, “I’m gonna grab a shower and be right back. Don’t leave yet!”

“No rush, I’m staying for breakfast,” she responded as he disappeared back into the hallway.

The kitchen was then plunged into a heavy silence both in and outside of Dean’s mind and a sinking feeling pulled at his stomach.

“Go ahead,” he sighed resignedly.

“Me?” Mary asked, a little surprised.

“You’ve been looking at me like that since last night,” Dean added.

“Like what?” she asked as he turned to her with a raised brow.

“Like that,” he nodded toward her, and her face fell into a small smile.

“You seem different…” she admitted, “Happier.”

“I am,” he leaned against the counter for support as Cas’ grace sparked curiously.

“Can I ask why?” she whispered and leaned forward like they were sharing a secret.

It pulled a grin to Dean’s face as he looked down, gathering his nerve.

“I’m uh… I’m being honest about myself, I guess…” he stumbled verbally trying to find the right words, “Mom, I’m…”

He looked up again and froze at the knowing look in his mother’s eyes.

“It’s Cas, isn’t it?” she asked softly, attempting to help him out and his eyes softened gratefully in response.

“Yeah,” he spoke on a breath.

“You and Cas are-“

“Yeah,” he repeated.

“That’s great,” she assured him.

“Really?” his doubt poured out with the word.

“Yeah,” she nodded meaningfully.

Cas was suspiciously quiet so Dean nudged him to check.

I’m here… just… didn’t want to interrupt.

Warmth flooded his body as the thoughts surfaced in his mind and a pleasant hum escaped him.

“Pancakes,” Dean clapped after snapping out of his reverie and turning to continue the task.

“You want blueberries or no?” he asked over his shoulder as he fired up the stovetop.

“Blueberries, please,” she answered brightly, a lightness to the room that wasn’t there before.

“Blueberries it is,” he grinned to himself.

By the time Sam returned, Dean was serving the large stack of the breakfast to the table.

“Are those my blueberries?”

“Yep,” Dean felt a surge of pride, and he could practically see the Angel rolling his eyes.

——————

@spuffy-destiel @destieliscanon5nov

#dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #mary winchester #possession #body sharing #castiel x dean #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #supportive sam winchester #mary ships it #spn #supernatural #castiel is not oblivious

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emily-the-fae · 2 years

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Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 9. Moment of Truth

Masterlist

you can also read this story on AO3

It's been what, half a year? I can't remember anymore, kept me away from updating. Feels like it's time to at least try to move further with the story (it's all finished in my notes for at least a year now, I'm just super slow editing). English is not my mothertongue and I don't have a beta, so please don't judge. Corrections from readers taken into account, if any.Things are getting more emotional in this chapter.

Fandom: Castlevania

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: none probably, a bit of angst and mixed feelings

The conclusion to be made is: don't jump into water if you have no idea how deep it is. Shari should have known and expected all that could happen to her, walking into the Dracula castle, problem is she hadn't planned any suitable solutions.

He was silent, as if hesitating; evaluating her; then his large cold hand went to cover hers on his shoulder. For a moment Shari thought that he would make her remove herself, but he only squeezed her palm tightly, his red eyes boring into her soul. She felt truly sorry for him, he could sense the pity and sympathy radiating from her - oh, you sweet innocent human, you don't know the depth of the pit you are throwing yourself into.

- You should be heading to bed, - he announced, rising himself from his seat and shutting the book on the table. - Your medicine won’t have the proper effect unless you are well rested and gaining strength, - he could feel her flinch slightly as he stood up. She quickly removed her palm and clutched her hand to her chest. Curious caring little human - alive, breathing, smell of her blood delightfully sweet. What a wonderful change she was to his darkened world, a candle that appeared in his life, though he never expected it to, though he expected to live in an unending darkness forever now. Dracula wasn't sure if he wanted to will her away from disturbing his darkness or grab and drag her down into the night with him, to keep that light shining and warming him for as long as he can. Besides he hadn’t hunted in so many days now… Perhaps…

Shari was feeble, temporary - it wasn’t just her, it was the flaw of being human as compared to the form of his existence. The cures she fixed for herself, the improvements in her magic – all that could prolong her lifetime, significantly for her, but endlessly little as compared to his life. Taking in her light would only help him for a while, and then it will be gone like all others. Though of course he knew of a cure for that final problem. He never tried did he? Not for that purpose at least. But now perhaps he could find the courage.

Shari tore herself from her stunned state, hurrying back to her working table to grab a book and return to her room - she could feel the change of atmosphere between them, the air suddenly feeling too dense. When she walked towards the staircase, he was already expecting her by the door only to follow her up the steps and into her floor, apparently deciding to accompany the healer on the way to her room. Shari felt her back almost painfully tense under his stare. His presence suddenly too overwhelming for her to handle her fear.

Dracula followed the human without breaking the silence settled between them. His inner hunter was purring at the sound of her quick heartbeat, the twilight and loneliness of the castle only heightening his senses.

The corridor was dark, but not dark enough for Shari not to notice how her unwanted companion moved closer. She didn’t like this sudden change, mostly because she could not figure what could have possibly caused it. And could not be certain she would really like to know the answer. They stopped at her door and Shari turned to look at him before parting ways, regretting her decision the instant she did so.

Dracula leaned down closer, looking her in the eyes, his hand coming up to rest against the wall next to her head. It wasn’t a gesture of intimidation, more one of a tired man needing support. But Shari still felt caged, overwhelmed by the powerful being before her; an anxious shiver ran down her spine at the proximity. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

- How is your healing going? - he asked, quiet, the question somewhat unfit for their position.

- Can't tell straight away, but I do hope it helps, I have put quite an effort and the... - she froze, she wanted to turn away from him, but found herself unable to do so. - I hope this all was not in vain, disturbing your home with my presence, I mean.

- I do hope so too. For your health’s sake, of course, - a clawed hand came to her chin, tilting her head up, stopping her attempts to hide her gaze. It seemed to her she could see him smile, but maybe it was just her mind playing tricks. Dracula sensed her anxiety and withdrew just a little.

- Thank you. For you kindness and... - she couldn't bring herself to finish the phrase; she was whispering now too, her breaths coming heavy. Shari tried to back away, unsuccessfully, her spine hitting the doorframe painfully.

"Don’t run, firefly, come closer. You were so brave all along, no need to be shy now".

She felt him lean in closer following her, her back now pressed against the closed door of her room and his frame preventing her from slipping away. Now he finally had cornered her, and she felt the anticipation running through her veins. Could he sense it? Did he hear her heartbeat? His face seemed so handsome now in the dim moonlight coming from a window down the corridor, Shari had never truly noticed before how appealing he could be; he was so close to her, a few more inches and they would...

- I believe I should bid you good night, Count, - she whispered quickly, in one short breath, tearing herself away from his grasp and his hypnotic gaze, and before he could answer anything, the door to her room was shut behind her back.

Shari exhaled heavily, leaning her back against the doorframe, feeling his claws scratch at the wood longingly from the other side. The healer pressed her fingers to her lips. She wanted it. Wanted him to kiss her, to press her to himself lovingly and gently, run his clawed fingers through her hair, careful not to hurt her, look at her… Just the way it seemed a moment ago he stared into her face in the pale moonlight of the corridor. No matter how much she denied it, it was the painful truth. She had fallen for the Count.

Shari exhaled heavily and stayed motionless for a few moments. Then, as if an invisible force pushed her forward, she tore herself away from the doorframe, making a few unsteady steps. She let out a quiet sob and dropped on her bed, curling into a ball on top of the covers. Oh hell. Shari curled her body tighter, pressing her palms to the sides of her head. No, no, no, forget this. This will be the end of you. She covered her mouth with a hand to stop her sobs from coming out too loud - he may still be standing behind that door, he may still hear her disarray. Her tears soaked the bed covers, creating a dark spot as she struggled to contain her sudden outburst, pressing her face into the bed. This was not right. This should not be happening. This was not happening. But why, why did it have to hurt so much?

She felt a featherlight touch to her back and bolted up abruptly, turning to her unexpected guest.

- Shh, - a single finger pressed to her lips, gesturing for Shari to keep quiet. - Don't shout, - Lisa started. - Why did you run from him? I saw it, everything was going so well, you almost... - she was very obviously preparing for a long speech, but Shari interrupted her:

- Almost what, Lisa? You bring me here, lie to me that I wouldn't meet him and then disappear for weeks leaving me alone! - You never believed you wouldn’t meet him here, you’re not that stupid, - the ghost cut in confidently. - Don't you see what is going on to me? – Shari ignored her. - I... I can't! I can't love your husband, it's just wrong! Especially not from your own advice, this is just...- she hugged her shoulders in a mix of frustration, feeling the tears come threateningly close to flooding her vision again.

- But he’ll love you too, don't you see this was the whole point? It's working, he cares for you, he is in love with you, he will... - Lisa tried to explain, her hand coming to rest lightly at Shari's forearms.

- No! Stop! I see where you're heading with this. "To make him pity you and change the rage into mercy"! There was never any way I could stop the castle’s traveling mechanisms - you simply stuck to your plan and guided me to him. You did this on purpose, well, happy now, are you? ...You don't even understand, - Shari said gravely after a while. - He doesn't love me. He sees you in me and that is what makes him care – even if he does care. He misses you, Lisa, he wants you back and in me he sees a replacement. Lord, I can't believe I am saying this, but this is exactly the reason why your plan is awful. He may be interested for now, that will occupy his thoughts for a while. But at some point he is going to come back to the realisation that I'm fake - that I am not you and am never going to be you. I will never be a fitting replacement and as soon as he realizes it, I will be painfully dead and the war will rage on further. I'm nothing to him, but your shadow, - she ran both her hands through her hair in a gesture of despair.

- You're wrong, Shari, you're just under...

- I'm right. And what is the worst part: now I know I'm falling for him and I can do nothing about it.... I'm already in love with him, although he will never feel the same - never love me for what I am, - she sobbed quietly. - I should have predicted this, you know, expected... But my goodness this suddenly so much more than I have anticipated?! - she fell back on the covers, breathing heavily. Lisa caressed her head.

- I hope time will prove you wrong. If you could see things from my perspective, maybe you wouldn't be so pained, - Shari turned away from the ghost slightly, shutting her eyes. - But I guess you are not in the mood for a change of viewpoint tonight.

Silence ensued, and in a minute the ghost disappeared with a dissatisfied huff, leaving the healer alone to her thoughts. Lisa was guilty and frustrated at the same time, but most of all absolutely useless to the situation - whatever it was between the two it was now only up to them to sort it out.

- I need to get out of here, - Shari whispered to herself desperately, curling in a tight ball on top of the covers.

***

Dracula growled under his breath, his forehead connecting with the side of the doorframe as he leaned on the locked door. "No. Don't run. Come back". He could feel the vibrations from her beating heart: she was still close, he knew she was pressed to the door from the other side. Just a few inches apart. His hand slid angrily against the wood, his claws leaving four traces on the dark surface. "Open up". But the door stayed locked.

The vampire stepped away as he sensed her move further into the room, leaving his grasp all together. He shook his head, disappearing in a cloud of grey fog that slid along the corridor. He reappeared in his own form only back in his empty, dimly lit chambers. What the hell was wrong with him? What was he thinking? What was he going to do with her? That witch, that human, that stupid sweet caring creature... Oh no.

He chuckled bitterly, sinking into a chair and hiding his face in his palms. So this is what he came to. This is what he felt for her in the end. It shouldn't be - it was against every prediction he made for his lonely hateful future. She was a goddamn human and his son's friend. Not someone like her. This is utterly stupid, illogical, idiotic... and true. Dracula groaned, his fist going down and connecting harshly with the armrest of the chair. That awful flying feeling setting inside of him - he knew well that the best he could do for himself was to burn it out with hatred and he knew just as well that he simply wouldn't be able to - so he would have to do the second best thing and try to make it support him.

He knew enough of the emotion and he had made plenty of mistakes recognising it before. This time he wouldn't. He was aware it was dangerous and cruel. He knew what this could lead to. The vampire had loved enough times before.

Lisa moved towards him slowly from her corner - she knew he wouldn't see or sense her, but was still hesitant to reach out. How much she wanted to support him, to help him let go and move on, to return to his stronger self. The ghost neared the vampire carefully. She put her hand on his shoulder softly, even though he wouldn't feel it, it was as much as she could do. Dracula growled quietly, whispering something under his breath. Oh, Vlad, what is happening to you?

#this story is still alive #i am a periodic author #sorry to everyone who is still with Shari on her journey #castlevania #dracula x oc #dracula x reader #vlad dracula tepes #adrian tepes #alucard #lisa tepes #castlevania fanfiction #my writing

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queensconquest · 2 years

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@aristarchos said: ╳ // pm and lw :3

( SEND ╳ FOR MY MUSE TO TAKE A BULLET/SWORD FOR YOURS )

It hadn’t been a hard choice. For centuries , Ling Wen had put herself and her own goals at the forefront of what she did without a moment of hesitation or care for anyone else. But life had a way of making things suddenly change without warning. Contrary to the stories and plays of a heartless figure torn between themselves and another , it hadn’t been a hard choice at all. It had been simple. She would have laughed if anyone had ever tried to tell her otherwise. Her ? Care enough to save someone purely because she wanted to ? Not likely. And yet , in an instant , it’d become one of the easiest things she’d ever done.

Crimson grew like a morbid flower against dark fabric as she stared down at the hilt of the blade.

All it had taken was seeing the danger that even Pei Ming hadn’t spotted yet. It had made her throat tighten and fear swell in her chest at the thought of losing him . She couldn’t just stand there and watch him fall or get hurt. Not now. Not when she could do something. She’d been unable to do anything with Shi Wudu but wait to hear back. But here and now , she could do something beyond just be a bystander. In a split second , her mind had already assessed that calling out for him wouldn’t help. It’d just be another distraction and he would focus on her rather than the danger already nearly sinking its fangs into him. Her body was moving already , pushing Pei Ming out of the path.

She claimed to still be heartless ? She was only fooling herself if she really still believed that.

Ling Wen could feel her legs trembling , starting to give out from either pain or blood loss. She wasn’t quite sure which , only that she could hear her name being yelled. But even that was iffy. What she was certain of was that she was caught before she could collapse to the ground , saved from the hard embrace of the ground. She blinked slowly , staring up at Pei Ming’s worried face. That idiot was going to blame himself. She could already see the thought forming.

Men.

Ling Wen lifted a hand to his face , fingers brushing over his cheek to try to ease the worry she could see forming on his face like storm clouds rolling over a field. Granted , the knife buried in her chest probably wasn’t helping , but she knew better than to pull it out. Pei Ming had been a soldier , he probably knew that too. Probably.

“ Stop it. “ She weakly scolded , too pained to life her neck or head from where she laid in his arms. “ Don’t blame yourself. I chose to do this. So don’t you dare start blaming yourself. “ She took a deep breath in , wincing in clear pain as she did so. “ Don’t you dare invalidate or devalue my choice , Ol’ Pei. Or I’ll - I’ll get even when I’m better. I don’t regret it. “

It was disconcerting how aware she was of her own heartbeat , but she didn’t focus on that or the pain that made her head spin. Her eyes were focused on Pei Ming’s face as her fingers slowly slid down his cheek and her hand fell to her lap.

“ I’m glad you’re okay. “ She added softly , struggling to keep her eyes open as she gazed at him , feeling safe in his arms despite the terrifying lack of control she had.

#aristarchos #honestly lw herself surprised #at both doing it but at how simple it was #didn't need to think about it #she just...did it bc she cares v.v #but also ready to smack him if he blames himself #no >:( it was her choice #〉she who possesses tundra as a heart〈 — ✒ ⌜ling wen⌟#〉relations: (lw & pm) : when the fire burns catch me in your arms 〈 — ✒

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someonelikesyou · 2 months

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MORNINGS ARE TERRIBLE

They remind me of playing hide-and-seek with my brother, I'm hidden, crouching under the bed and suddenly he throws up the sheet, light pouring in, "Found you!". A glare, followed by an awkward pause and my heart racing as I crawl out from under, I'm slightly pissed off and then suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed. It feels similar, not quite - but similar, but even more unbearable somehow than when you're walking along with your friends and your shoelace keeps coming untied, so you stop and reach down to tie it, only for it to become untied again, and so you tie it again. It becomes untied yet again, you have to stop and tie it over and over until you finally surrender to your shoelace and let it drag on the ground and become black, it's awful- sort of like that feeling. Anyway, it's not true how they say you just blink awake - it's more like a cloudy, bleary vision, then as the starch begins to settle from sleep and the skim rises to the top of your eyes you begin to be able to see. Mornings are forced on me. So much sadness surfaces with the skim and I can hardly bear it, I hate it, I really do. My legs are already so exhausted when I wake up that I already don't want to do a thing. It's also a lie when they say you feel the healthiest you can feel in the morning. Mornings are always the same, always empty, maybe I just get bad sleep. The sight of me lying in bed each morning is pathetic, it's awful really, all kinds of terrible regrets converge in my stomach, this makes it hurt and I writhe under the covers. Mornings feel like torture. They remind me of the time I was repulsed by a stranger's slouch and drudge across Santa Monica Boulevard only to come to the harrowing realization that I was walking in the exact same way. Today is a day in March. I reminded myself of this and I remembered mornings waking up to the back of your neck. I sort of wonder and fear what crude things I might utter in my sleep. I had an odd sensation that I had been staring into one corner of the room for a very long time, in the same pose thinking about the same thing over and over. These things happen to me from time to time, the past and present collapsing onto themselves in one instant. My gaze is still affixed to the corner, only my mouth might be able to move, at times like these, strange hallucinations come over me, I undoubtedly stared at this corner yesterday, the day before that, and I probably will tomorrow, but today I gave myself over to it - then my head and my chest and my stomach became transparent as a sense of myself floated down and settled over me, and silently, and all at once, I was at the mercy of these hallucinations, a reckoning that I somehow would live this way. This was far from an enlightened commotion, but a terrifying one, the premonition of living like a catatonic, kleptomatic cat, still and quiet - how could it lead to any good? To go on like this for any length of time seems like you'd end up possessed. Like Jesus Christ. Ultimately though, I am probably idle all of the time.

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officialmenu · 3 months

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What I'm about to write, I've kept it in for exactly twelve months. I've told a handful of people some bits and pieces, but there are angles to this story that I've always held back because I felt the duty to protect something that - to be honest with you - has done nothing but damage to me in return. I'm about to write about the stages of a grief I have felt too ashamed to declare. Because no one died, really. Yet something did. And my therapist said I should write my grief out. So here we go...

19th of February 2023

A date I will probably take to my grave.

A date that's always in the back of my mind, like a parasite. Yet it gives me hope that I've had other dates like that in my life, which one year after many painful ones I realized I had lived through without remembering. I can't wait for the 19th of February to be just another Tuesday.

For now though, that was the day I lost my best friend.

Like I said, nobody died. But I don't really feel like sugarcoat it to avoid drama. In order to be grief there has to be a death and what died on that day, even though I didn't know yet, was effectively a friendship.

I think I've never really got rid of the pain I felt that night, when I suddenly felt like an intruder, a stranger, a burden in a house that for the longest time had been a second home.

I was playing Hogwarts Legacy at 1am in my best friend's house when he texted to say I was being replaced. Funny how Harry Potter is always there in the most defining moments of my existence...

My best friend, my male best friend, was taking a girl home. Something he had done before, but he had never asked for my permission. Which could only mean this was not supposed to be a one night stand. This girl was coming into his life, into my life, and there was nothing, at the time, that terrified me more.

I can never stop to think about what I felt in the moment, because if the memory gets a hold of me it would suck me back into a vortex of sadness and hopelessness I no longer have the energy to swim back from. All I allow myself to remember is a song, the only song that kept my head above water that entire night.

Sometimes I think I haven't actually ever swimmed back.

Sometimes I'm so afraid to find myself still stuck in that Uber, running away from an event I couldn't control, nothing short of panicking as I choked back the most desperate tears I've ever shed. Sometimes I'm so afraid to find myself abandoning all my weight and strength on my bed sheets again, when I finally got home and burst into tears. I still remember the fear, because in that moment I genuinely thought if something so beautiful could be broken, then I was surely destined for intolerable physical pain. The thought genuinely crossed my mind, that that was just one event of many horrible ones lining up in that very instant to start showing up at my door.

Fear of loneliness, fear of illness, fear of death.

I know it sounds terribly dramatic, but that night, between not knowing who to call to be so vulnerable with and holding my head that felt like cracking open from the tears, I genuinely believed I had been given the most precious friendship ever because it was time for me to die soon.

Okay Manu. Put the Nicholas Sparks books down.

Well, I didn't die. That night, nor any night after.

But I've certainly paused life, afraid as I was that some other piece could fall off the wagon.

My phone buzzed the whole night.

I'm not gonna backtrack that WhatsApp chat because I will not purposely jump into the memory, but of all the messages I received that night, while my heart shattered and my best friend's blew up, I remember three of them:

"I feel infinitely guilty."

I had left him his favourite red velvet cake because he had a stressful shift at work. I don't regret doing it, but I did feel so stupid back then. We had built a whole friendship on leaving each other treats as a sign of support, but I realized in that moment - and would have many times in the following months - that it could, would never beat sex in his book. And I couldn't, wouldn't give him that. All I had was cake. Undying support - which you'd think took priority over everything else, silly you - and cake.

"Manu, say something."

I wanted to, but I couldn't.

Could I?

I have debated this for so long...Would it have made a difference if I had put my loyalty aside to text back "Please don't"?

Spoiler: in twelve months I've been given one too many examples of just how much he wouldn't have cared to stop. And me, still trying to live up to a standard of friendship I believed we had promised each other but has since then revealed itself pretty unilateral, would have later actually told him to "go for it, even if it breaks me. Don't worry about me."

He surely took my word for it and maybe that's why I struggle to let go of my anger sometimes...Because I gave him my blessing. Of course I did it on the basis of him always protecting our friendship, but there are so many parts of this story I misread, blinded by trust and hope. I gave him my blessing and I couldn't now - or ever - let that backfire on him.

"Don't hate me."

Maybe I really should have...maybe not back then, but at some point in the next few months. Everyone in my life believes he deserves it. But of all the emotions I have navigated thanks and because of him, hate was never one of them.

Oh it would be so much easier if I could bring myself to hate him. Like in that scene in Bruce Almighty, when Jennifer Aniston begs God to make her stop loving Jim Carrey. I am proud of the way I've cared about him, it has helped me grow in ways I am so glad for, but oh my god this story could have been so much shorter if someone had listened to that prayer for me (because I have spoken it). And to be quite frank, all that growth has just made me more aware of how unfair this whole situation is and I would have probably enjoyed oblivion more, once or twice.

When I told the story of that night, everybody (except one person) immediately assumed I was in love with him. And everybody probably meant well, but in reality what I heard was "platonic love shouldn't hurt this much", or "if you're not in love with him, then whatever you're feeling isn't normal."

It wasn't valid.

It is taking me 12 months and some to get control of myself again because unless I admit to be in love with him I am not allowed to feel this loss.

Everybody also always said "if you're in love with him that's completely okay".

Was it though? Do you have any idea how many times people had assumed we were a couple? How many people would have sworn on their life that we were meant for each other? How many times we had denied it, joked about it, dismissed it? I have actually wondered if he dismissed it because I did or if I've dismissed it because I always assume people are not interested, but I couldn't - physically couldn't - entertain the thought that I had been sitting right in the middle of everything I had always wished for - that Chandler&Monica trope - without noticing and that I had let someone else sweep it from under my nose. To this day I cannot linger on the possibility of that "what if". "What ifs" aren't a thing. There is only the painstaking truth that I had felt at my highest and wholest as his best friend and yet my highest and wholest hadn't been enough for him.

The truth that he had chosen someone so excruciatingly similar to me, but younger, more spontaneous, more physical. The new and improved me. The upgrade. The me without all the issues, the me you didn't have to work for, to work with.

The truth that whatever kind of love we had shared - and I promise it didn't really matter to label it - was beautifully true, envy material and still not enough.

Our friendship had to go.

For him, to let him be free of responsibility and let him steer clear of uncomfortable conversations, his kryptonite.

For her, to ease her insecurities, even though she had willingly, masterfully designed to enter a relationship with a guy whose best friend was a girl.

For everyone else, because - again - if it's only friendship you feel, you're not allowed to grieve. You're supposed to be okay with being tossed aside.

It was a premeditated, collective crime.

I just hadn't found the body yet, so I would keep on believing to find it alive, this friendship, every next morning when I opened my eyes.

For an entire, awful year.

DENIAL

We were supposed to meet the next day. We had begged and bribed our manager to give us the night shift together and we were planning to watch Stranger Things and play Hogwarts Legacy throughout the day before work.

Another me would have disappeared, bailed, left him to wonder why.

Another me would have run and - once again - maybe I should have.

Yet there had always been something about him that made me want to be better, made me want to stop guilt tripping, made me want to communicate in a quieter way, made me want to trust. I don't think I've always kept up with that will, as rooted habits are hard to eradicate, however the instinct was always there and would always eventually bring me back around.

I remember seeing the open sofa bed in the living room as I walked in, I remember the urge to run away, disappear, all the way there and then from his very doorstep. That sofa bed foreshadowed a struggle I still carry with me: that even when I don't see it, the thing, the issue, this death is somewhere around me. As alive as ever. She wasn't there, nobody informed me as to who had occupied that bed the night before, but there wasn't really any need to guess, right?

His flatmate was home, so we put Stranger Things on and I tried to focus on one of my favourite things ever.

It was season 4, the season of Will telling Mike he's afraid to lose him without actually saying it; the season of Eleven keeping the door open three inches, hoping for Hopper to come back against all odds; the season of Lucas being broken up with Max and yet still knowing something's wrong with her; the season of Steve and Robin being the most powerful duo and of Steve taking care of Nancy when Jonathan isn't there.

The season of "Mike, you're the heart."

I know now, after a whole year of therapy, that I was the heart. But back then, on that foggy damp morning in West Ealing, in my best friend's living room that so familiarly smelled like laundry and weed, I was sure he was the heart and I couldn't breathe at the idea of losing it.

But he was just a friend and I wasn't allowed to think it.

His flatmate walked out about fifteen minutes into the episode and he immediately paused and "We should talk."

"I don't know what to say."

If you know me, you know that's weird.

I was tired, my head was still splitting open and I still desperately wanted time to freeze so that I didn't have to face the consequences of that day.

I thought of all the times we had discussed him getting into a relationship and me having to step away because "It is very unlikely that a girl would accept her boyfriend to have a female friend".

I thought about all the times he had said "You will be in the relationship agreement. I will not let that happen."

All the times he promised "If someone asks me to choose, the choice is made by them because I shouldn't have to choose."

And I thought about our song, by a band she loves and I now despise:

"...and I just keep on thinking how you made me feel better

and all the crazy little things that we did together.

In the end....

in the end it doesn't matter if

tonight is gonna be the loneliest.

You'll be the saddest part of me."

A song, you guessed it, about grief.

A grief I wasn't allowed to acknowledge.

"All I know is I didn't sleep," I mastered the courage to whisper. Pleading.

Please stop this, you're the only one who can.

Don't make me go through this.

"Because of me?" he asked.

I smiled because in that moment I could still feel our connection would step and stand over everything else.

"Yes."

He took a cushion, slammed it over his entire face and sighed a sorry "No, Manu!"

Even to him, I was not allowed to feel this.

We spoke for about twenty minutes and again, I remember three things with searing clarity:

1) "We complete each other because you overthink and I don't think at all."

Our friendship died from both of us repeatedly proving this statement right.

2) Me almost saying I was in love with him, just to be entitled to my feelings. Thank god I didn't.

3) How right had I been in not disappearing, in showing up, in allowing him to prove to me I was always going to be important. A lie in the making which enabled my denial. Because no matter how much I try to excuse him, if he had really cared for me enough, something in my pain should have pushed him to make different choices. Not necessarily end things with her...not choosing a side, not cutting me off would have been a good enough start for me.

You know, I'm low maintenance like that.

We had many conversations like that one, conversations where I tried to let him understand I was falling apart not because he had a girlfriend, but because he had stripped me of my role in his life, conversations where I thought he was saying "I am not leaving you", conversations that masked a truth so bitter to swallow: yes we had a connection, but to him I was just filling a gap while he waited for more, for better. Now better had arrived and nobody likes living with the knowledge you're breaking someone's heart, so he kept that connection alive with a lot of unforgettable perfect words and I - not allowed to feel the grief and not ready to let go - believed every single one of them.

"She's too young, this isn't going anywhere."

"That's a red flag."

"If you wanna be with me you have to accept Manu."

"You're my favourite person ever."

"I am a constant."

"Why do you think I climbed that mountain to take a picture? I don't give a shit, but you do and I wanted to do it for you."

Time would lead me to believe I really tried.

I didn't run.

From the start.

Before he began cutting me out, when the only problem was my fear of abandonment, I went to her and asked her to please not force me out, I asked her to allow me to tell him I loved him like I had always done when he was single and I asked her to allow me to spend time with him, I assured her I had no intention of being cause of jealousy and I asked her if she maybe would be interested in being friends.

I asked her permission.

Me, the one who was there first.

That qualifies as trying, right?

Her answer has been resonating in my brain almost every day for twelve months: "Manu, you know I love you, right? I know about your relationship, I would never come between you two."

Well, if she loves him like she loved me, that's some romance you have there.

Her answer and the lies it concealed even back then, on day 2, is the number one reason why I will never believe she's the right one for him. And the number one reason I have been so angry for such an excruciating, annoyingly long time.

Because even though she actively, cunningly broke that promise and took steps to manipulate his weaknesses and pushed me out of his life, at the end of the day he let her.

So I got angry at her for openly disrespecting the most precious thing I had going on and I got angry at him for looking the other way.

I was only ready to focus on one of the two, though.

At the time.

ANGER

This next part I can't really tell it in chronological order, because even though the stage is behind me, the feeling is always there. Still.

Now, I know I sound like a victim and I know somewhere out there there must be a portion of people boohoo-ing me and very rudely encouraging me to "get over it". These are probably the same people who have read and yet skipped over the many moments when I pointed out how I was made feel not allowed to feel my grief. The same people who probably lack both the reading and understanding skills as well as the emotional empathy and depth to grasp the meaning of my entire story. People I passionately do not give two shits about.

Yet, I know I sound like a victim, but I believe there's some objectivity to one truth: some things have been done to me that I never got an apology for and it is so inexplicably hard to get over a supposedly unjustified anger. Even more so, when that anger goes completely unacknowledged.

Fast forward six months.

She had kicked off a competition between us that I wanted absolutely no part in. I just wanted him to be clear to both of us what role we played in his life, but the vibe between me and her - particularly when we hung out without him - had started to feel off, so I put some distance between us.

You don't have to be best friends with your best friend's partner, as long as you stay civil.

It's July. His birthday arrives.

I don't get invited until 6pm on the day, when I text him to know if there was a plan and she texts me back to say "We're heading home now, I'll let you know at around 8pm where we will be but don't ask him anything else."

Even ignoring the fact I absolutely was not going to sit around waiting to be summoned, I showed up at the "party" to find out his other friends had known for - compared to the notice I had been given - ages.

Have you ever found yourself in a room with the stinking feeling you've been a topic of conversation many times before and now everyone is watching you to gather data to discuss when you go?

I drowned my paranoia, second guessed my instincts, hugged him when he unwrapped my gift and left after a single drink.

He thought I was leaving because I didn't like pubs or hanging out with drunk people. He always thinks I don't do things because I don't like hanging out with drunk people, but even though I haven't had a sip of alcohol for basically my entire life, I do live in England. I've learned to manage. That is never the reason why I don't go places.

I debated for a few days whether I should ask him about that night.

Had I done something? Had he said something? But how do you approach that conversation? How do you ask "hey is your girlfriend trying to break us up or something?" without sounding unrightfully jealous?

Well, there isn't a way. Not when you're in a mixed gender friendship, there isn't.

Or if there is, I didn't find it.

Because when I - as carefully as ever, selecting words with the patience, attention and slight concern of a bomb disposal engineer - gave him evidence, he kindly gaslighted me:

"Don't you think it's all in your head?"

From there, we went through a spot of time - about a month or so - when we couldn't stop fighting and while I insisted on being more patient with him than I had ever been with anyone who had pissed me off in my life, he let himself go to words nobody - especially me - would ever believe he's capable of...Including the words that - he knew - have stabbed and murdered all my relationships and my self-esteem along with them:

"To you friendship is a relationship, but I don't wanna work that hard on it."

I never said he wasn't honest.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm juggling two relationships."

Bro, I feel like your mistress and we'd barely hold hands if our lives depended on it.

"It's too much. You're too much."

Hit and sunk.

That particular time my eyes instantly filled with tears and I had to go hide because we were actually at work.

I would later tell all my friends, the good ones, that "if there was one person in my life I was certain I'd never hear those words from, it was him."

My therapist will tell you I have never really got over that. No matter how much money I've paid her since then.

And I mean, inside I've never got over it, but I didn't leave.

Even then.

Even as he wielded Narsil and chopped off the Ring of Power from my finger, even as he Avada Kedavra-d my soul with those words, as the spell finally faded and he reduced himself to be just like everyone else, I found another chance in me to give him.

So a couple of weeks later, as the arguments continued, deepened by a wound he wasn't even aware he had inflicted, he exasperatedly asked:

"We used to never argue, I don't understand what's changed."

I looked at him with disbelieving frustration. "Yeah okay, I know what's changed," he admitted.

Rewind now.

What changed?

He did, mostly.

Or maybe not. Maybe that's exactly who he had always been.

The inconfutable truth, nevertheless, is that he pulled away.

He went from being the person answering the phone when my cat died, the person who lied in bed talking about my fears with me until 4am, the person who came up with a silly game ("Who would win...?") to distract me from anxiety whether i was on an airplane or just overwhelmed, the person who messaged me first whenever anything happened that could affect us - like getting a girlfriend, for example - to the person I couldn't reach for four days straight.

Oh man, those four days...

To this day I don't believe he fully understands the level of panic he left me in that week, when I couldn't figure out if his phone had just got stolen or if he had passed out in a ditch out of reach of humanity.

He doesn't know, he will never know, how I lost hours of sleep, worrying sick about him because I was the one who always knew what was going with him and if I didn't know then the only possible explanation was that something horrific had happened to him.

He kinda knows, but surely does not comprehend, how some people have taken those four days as a chance to instil and reinforce in me the provable fact he didn't care about me. A fact I would slowly grow to believe myself, but some people really jumped at the chance, right from the gate.

He doesn't know I cried for hours on the phone with my mom, one of those four nights, at 2am, when it got too dark within and around me to deal with this all on my own. He has no idea of the terror I dropped on my mom's heart when she picked up and all she could hear was my whimpering, because I could not utter a single word, draw a single breath. He doesn't know she'd later confess me she was deeply disappointed in him, although in the moment she had tried to convince me this was all the makings of envious people because "I don't even understand you when you're talking to him," - my mom can't speak English - "but anyone can tell your bond is special and that makes people want to destroy it. Don't let them."

You understand now, from that birthday anecdote, I have held on to that statement, maybe a little too tight. I have progressively consumed myself to defend this friendship, way past checkpoints that should have really convinced me - and with previous relationships would have actually convinced me - to drop it all.

Emotionally, I have felt like Tony Stark after his snap: the only way to win is for him to sacrifice himself. It doesn't matter if it should be Steve because he doesn't have a family, or Hulk because he could physically take it. Tony's the one with enough to lose to actually want to give his all. Leave no cards unturned. Even if it means you won't be there for the celebratory parade.

This is why I'm angry.

Because too many times a voice in my head has whispered to me that is the only plausible ending up ahead. No matter how right I've grown beside him, how much more and more fairly I have supported and loved him, how much better we make each other, how lucky we've got to stumble upon the same timeline, I can't shake off the feeling that the only acceptable epilogue will not include me.

He did pick up the phone after four days.

"I am indeed alive," he said.

Her arm had gone through some glass, she had to go to the hospital and the seriousness of it all had caused him to panic. So - the emotionally intelligent human being he is - up he went, to his parents' house, his hometown, disappearing from the face of the earth, pushing every single emotion down as if they didn't exist if nobody knew about them.

For four days.

With her.

It hadn't even been a month since the 19th of February and I had already been bumped from his speed dial.

But I couldn't be angry, right? He has a girlfriend now, of course you won't know stuff about him anymore. I've never asked my other friends in committed relationships, but I'm pretty sure I'd tell my best friend if I basically had a breakdown and felt the urge to run and go.

Even if I had my boyfriend with me.

Unless you're the cause of my breakdown, I'd tell anyone who cares about me. Sure, not in the moment, but not four days of total absence later either.

Had I been the cause, then?

Or was I just, simply, not important enough?

Don't know what makes me feel worse.

I had written him a letter after the 19th of February, because my brain was such a mess that I could only sort it out in writing. It took him over a month to read it. So long that he actually "lost it" at some point. And that had just built the belief in my head that he was either too scared to find out what I had said in my letter, or that he didn't care enough to help us. And in the end, when he resurfaced from those four days of breakdown, he told me he had melted because he had lost my letter, didn't know how to tell me, got too scared and ran away. And as honored and safe as I felt in hearing him say "I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of losing you," I am having a really hard time believing he wasn't just sucking up to me in that moment.

I believed him then, though. Because back then she was just a fling and it made total sense that I'd cause him such trouble.

So had I - my feelings or my letter - been the cause?

Or was I just, simply, again, not important enough? And stupid enough to believe his excuse?

Now now, Manu. Snap out of it. You know better than to put your ego over someone's mental health.

I do know better than that.

I've known so much better than that, that I've restrained my ego to claim its rightful spot over anything that had to do with him.

Ever since.

Which is probably also why I'm angry.

The problem with wanting to keep to yourself in front of a person who has instantly and always been able to read the best concealed parts of yourself though, is that he immediately knew something was cooking behind my eyes. So I saw no point in lying:

"I am 35 and the person who knows you better than anyone, with some personal experience about breakdowns and mental health. She's a child who's known you for less than a month. I would have loved to be there for you, but you chose her. And that's okay," - is it? - "you do you...but it did hurt like a bitch."

Remember when I said earlier that I have been given and I have ignored one too many signs of being replaced? That was the first one.

I should have really left it at that.

Just a handful of days into this whole mess.

I should have packed my self-worth and walked away.

But he was still saying he saw no future in that relationship and he was still saying he was sorry every time he hurt me, as if the revelation of my pain constantly surprised him and everyone was still saying we were special and I was still tired of losing people.

Deadly combo.

I stayed.

The arguments started because I took his word for it when he said she was a fling, so of course I granted myself permission to at least feel upset when a fling took priority over my established loyalty.

But the weeks began to pile up, the season was changing and the fling was still there.

And even before his birthday and the competitive vibe that would come later, I'm a woman. An overthinker, for sure, but a female one. The one who will panic either way, but can always differentiate between the passing overthinking and the one you should really worry about because it will solidify at one point. (In case you've missed the memo among all my rumbling, the fling has completed a full trip around the sun just a few hours ago. So you can guess I could feel it solidifying.)

At the time, I told my therapist I felt like I was maybe subconsciously creating arguments where there weren't any, just to provoke a reaction. Because of all the things I'm angry for, the main one, the one that is blocking the healing process, is absolutely the way every emotion bounces off of him. It doesn't matter how broken, how distant we get, nothing gets through to him.

Or at least nothing I am sending off in his direction.

And I know, I think I know, it's actually because he's too terrified to feel anything, but the result he produces by never trying harder for anyone is simply to make me feel like he doesn't care.

About me.

Arguing wears you out eventually, though.

It takes skills to argue.

Skills I am proud of possessing; I hang my arguing skills on display around my house, like the Memorabilia collection of the place where we work.

He even refuses to take those skills out of the basement.

And while it may look cute to people please, anyone with a basic grasp on their mental health will agree you need to open that box, the arguing box, and polish the content once in a while.

Arguing is a needed skill, crucial to your health if done right.

Go watch Inside Out if you don't get it.

Still, dusting off those skills daily is tiring, especially when you're doing it on your own while everyone else is off enjoying the nice weather.

So we planned a day to talk. The last time I was ever allowed in his house (ooooh the plot thickens).

We - I - spoke for an entire afternoon, biting back tears, pulling the leash on my anger to make sure it wouldn't scare him off...Talking to him about feelings often feels like dealing with a scared cat: you wanna help, you wanna reach out and let him feel you mean well, but you extend your hand too quickly and he'll run hide behind the washing machine.

They don't know the difference.

You need to measure your energy very carefully.

But I was always explosive.

Throughout all this mess, the one trait of me I have refused to feel bad about is the way I feel everything to the max.

Including anger.

"Whether she hates or loves you, you'd have to be really stupid not to know," a friend of mine once said.

I was always explosive, but I'd do anything to make sure he knows "I may hate you more, but I will never love you less."

Hell, isn't that what the point of it all is supposed to be anyway?

I don't remember exactly how we ended up there, as it slythered in between us with no warning...It must have been something we said between "I'm not gonna marry this one, but I'm not rushing to end things with her either" and "I did say you should do what makes you happy even if it breaks me, but I guess the underlying assumption was that it wouldn't make you happy in the first place, if it broke me."

How bold of me to assume I mattered.

All I know is we - I - decided to stop being friends.

It sounds just as stupid as it is.

You don't just stop being friends. You don't just stop feeling. Anything.

In friendship, much like in love or pain, there's a transition. A series of events that either slowly intensify or erase the core emotion.

Hurt someone once, they'll forgive you.

Twice, they'll make a face and hold on.

Three times, they'll start wondering why they stay.

Ten, they eventually see the way out you were showing them.

I would love to tell you that was my tenth time, but it wasn't.

It was barely the second.

We went through the night without saying a single word to each other, not because I didn't have anything to say, but because I needed him to speak first for once.

He didn't, of course.

And I remained explosive in my stubborness. In my anger. And alas, in my love and loyalty.

I sat there with him, side by side, the sleeves of our sweatshirts touching and as far away as we have probably ever been, watching Across the Spiderverse as our swan song.

He loves Spiderman so much, he would climb shelves and piles of boxes at work just to be able to say "I'm Spiderman!"

And if he was Spiderman - Peter or Miles - then I was Gwen Stacy:

"You and I...we're the same. In the important ways..."

"In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman...and in every other universe...it doesn't end well."

I always turn to my favourite pieces of art to guide me through life and the timing of that movie, that night, left a bump that feels a lot like lack of bravery.

I heard her.

She was making me aware I'd have to gather strength from sources I had never explored in my life to be able to free both of us from this bond I wasn't destined for.

Because Gwen is not MJ.

Gwen is the wound in Spiderman's life, the wound MJ comes in to heal.

Gwen is the one only die hard fans - or Emma Stone's fans - remember. She's the one Spiderman jumps into the void to save because she matters that much to him in the moment, but when he can't save her, he eventually moves on. And when MJ comes in, everyone stops mentioning her.

Gwen Stacy is the one with the whole of the multiverse against her.

I didn't stand a chance.

I wasn't allowed to.

I wasn't expected to.

I wasn't meant to.

I wept in silence in the darkness, relieved and terrified that it would all be over as soon as credits rolled.

He didn't know. Or if he did, he didn't say.

I would love to tell you our connection, our chemistry, tickled his spidey sense and made him notice, but neither of us dared tapping into that well that night.

I wept, he watched the movie.

For the first time in two years neither of us knew what the other was thinking or feeling.

And then Gwen came back to voice the one simple reason why I do everything I do, why I put myself through therapy even: "I can't lose one more friend."

It will sound pathetic, but it will also sound a lot like me...that with damp cheeks and a heavy heart that had almost made it out, I let her save our friendship that night.

BARGAINING

I am not entirely sure I'm proud of staying. Sometimes I tell myself I'm a prize idiot. Even writing all of this, reading all of this makes me want to slap myself as hard as I can. But you know, another thing everyone will tell you about me (a thing he did say about me barely a week ago) is that I'm not the one who leaves, I'm the one who stays.

Often way past the due deadline.

Straight into stupidity.

And yet, I don't know that I'd change that about myself. Because when I eventually go, I can do it with a lighter heart, aware that I have fixed all that I could, including myself, but if the other part wasn't willing to do the same, then there was only so much I could do.

No matter the reasons, the point is I stayed.

The arguments became more rare, not so much from an increased effort but more from a determination to drown them.

The time together simply stopped to be a thing, except for work.

After two years of leaving his house at 4am three times a week, it is now silently agreed that I shall never step into it again.

If we hang out outside of work is because of someone else's plan, like a birthday party or a staff night out.

We had a holiday planned in November, that he told me "I don't wanna go on, but I also don't want not to go on." Code for "my girlfriend will kill me if I go away with you, but I lack the guts to both tell you the truth and make her feel secure in this relationship." Although of course, she now basically lives with him, attends every gig and family gathering and doesn't even walk ten minutes alone from the tube station to his door, while I am lucky if I get two matching shifts a week with him.

People keep telling me - as if I'm too stupid to know - that it's normal to spend less time with your friends when they or you enter a romantic relationship. But with all due respect, if you suddenly go from 100 to nothing with your best friends just because you have someone new in your life, you're either a teenager, a sex addict or (with) a toxic person.

And if you make your friends feel bad for daring to claim a spot in your life, a spot you should be giving without being asked, then you're just a prick.

But back to my story...

So Gwen Stacy convinced me to try once more.

And because I wanted to believe - I still do believe - this friendship was too special, I listened.

"I don't want us to stop being friends," I exhaled after the movie ended.

"I don't want that either! I'm so glad you said that!"

As mad as I've been with him, I do think there's some truth to that.

Even though that's his name on my phone, he is not a total dickhead.

Hopefully.

"Can you try a little bit harder though?" I whined, still somewhat heartbroken.

"I promise I will! If anything, tonight has shown me that I am getting a little too close to lose you and maybe that's the kick in the butt I need to step up."

Many conversations would follow, where he'd point out he was trying and I'd have to highlight how he wasn't. Or better, he was...but just long enough to keep me happy enough. Then he'd slip, I'd get mad and he'd make me feel awful for holding him accountable, as if the fact he was trying should excuse him until his dying day and I'd just have to be okay with it. And I'm sure I've made him feel awful in a bunch of other instants as well, but I'm pretty sure everyone could testify I was always triggered first, I was reacting. He just acted like that. Spontaneously. Consciously.

On top of that, throughout all of this, I struggled to bite my tongue every time I wanted to show him her part in this game, but I wouldn't dare doing it, out of fear of being gaslighted again. My defense from her was to remove myself from any situation that would have us in the same room, mostly to avoid her getting the chance to be perfectly fake nice to me in front of him, once again out of fear of him telling me it was all in my head.

A friend once asked "Aren't you letting her win, then?"

Yes. I was.

I was determined not to engage in this competition and I couldn't have it on my heart to wonder if he was spending time with me because I wanted to or because he wanted to. I wasn't going to force this, not to play hard to get, but simply because - despite my self-worth being dangerously in shambles - I still knew to save my thinning energy for people who craved it, not settled for it.

Let her win.

I was doomed from the start, anyway.

Lastly, as the grown up in this unintended triangle, I only cared about our friendship and therefore focused on him alone. As our security manager told me once, "don't make her relevant." And I hated it, because I would hate for my best friend to hate or ignore my boyfriend, but then again I know I would never not acknowledge that if they ended up competing it would be at least 80% my fault.

I had chosen to keep him in my life despite not being allowed in his.

I had to figure out a way to make it work.

And although it worked, I think in retrospect I've made it work by shrinking and denying my needs.

I stopped writing him cards because I didn't wanna feel the stupidity of trusting him to read it first thing in the morning.

I began walking away from him whenever he pulled out his phone, because I didn't wanna know just how many times he instantly texted everyone back, compared to how many hours I was left on read.

I unfollowed him and his band on social media, because I didn't wanna see how unbothered he seemed while I still found it hard to fall asleep at night. And I snapped at all those people who were rightly unaware of my chaos, but who still thought he was my best friend, assumed I knew everything that was going on with him and used his relationship as an ice-breaker in conversations.

I had to learn to practice to look away from our holiday calendar at work, because I didn't wanna know in advance when he was going away. Remember, our friendship only existed at work and if we weren't at work I didn't exist.

I looked away from everything that made me feel unease and instead highlighted the scraps he tossed me.

When he ordered my food before my break at work.

When he surprisingly messaged me back within twelve hours.

When he came to ask if I was okay, when I went hiding in the kids section of the shop on particularly heavy days.

When he took the tube home with me and occasionally, spontaneously walked me to my door.

When he said kind words to me, that revealed shadows of how well he had known me.

When he triggered one of my panic attacks, but called all my best friends to find someone who could help.

"You're enough. I just need you to shut up," I told him, my face drenched with tears and buried in my trembling hands, before he phoned the only other person I would have wanted with me through that...through the entire year, actually.

When he left work early on the same day to take me home and stayed with me to make sure I was okay. And he told me about the last time he had cried. And he told me he stayed with her because she "had proven herself to him". Even though it made me feel like I had given him my best too and yet that hadn't stopped him from tossing me aside.

When we shouted at each other one late night, but went to a leaving party the next day and we apologized to each other when we were left alone, before going down a slide like the forever children we both are.

When we walked home alone on the same night and he asked if I wanted to talk.

And I asked him if he had ever actually loved me.

And he told me that he could have never faked it that well for that long.

And he told me that if he didn't care he wouldn't spend so much time arguing and making up, because "you know I hate confrontations and you know they drain me."

And I asked him if I could somehow lower my expectations, even though I still held a grudge against her because I asked her not to ruin this and she did precisely that, could we - me and him - be able to coexist somehow?

And he replied that we could, only if that was enough for me, because he knew I expected more from people than he was clearly incapable of giving.

And I told him I had been afraid the whole day that this was the End, an end Gwen Stacy couldn't have saved us from.

And I told him I wasn't at the point yet, where I wanted nothing to do with him.

And he looked me in the eyes - 2am across the street from his door - a loving spark in his look (which I don't know how to believe anything less than genuine) and asked me to give him a hug.

And he wrapped his right arm around my neck while I held on to his chest as tightly as I held on to our bond, but - I don't know how I remember this detail - for the first and only time he also lifted his left arm and placed his hand on my shoulder.

Maybe just because.

Maybe as a way of silently saying he cared.

He was still afraid of losing me.

He hated this situation as much as me.

He was sorry for not being able to make it better.

I somehow made it work. Not nearly as perfectly as I wished, since I noticed I was starting to get anxious just being around him, simply for fear of hearing details of his life I had to force myself to stay away from. And on some days it's still just as horrible as that first day in February, when I am particularly vulnerable and can't silence the voice in my head that still claims this whole thing started and will eventually end because I am too much and not enough at the same time.

But i've made it work.

And whenever those horrible days hit, I travel back to two specific events in recent times: Lacock and the Disney Exhibition.

Lacock is a village in the Cotswolds, near Oxford, famous as one of the most iconic Harry Potter filming locations.

We went there on a day trip, the day after my birthday.

I had asked him to accompany me because we had this tradition to visit filming locations and take photos of them while holding a picture of the movie frame, a tradition that had taken us to Italy and Scotland before. Sure, I could have done it alone, but it turns out I suck at framing that kind of photos and he enjoyed teasing me and showing off that talent of his.

Also, being nerds was our love language. I couldn't have done that with anyone else.

I remember the anxiety, a constant companion since February, while we had breakfast in Ealing and then boarded the train. He had paid for my coffee and studied the frames I had printed, saying things like "This will be tricky, but we'll make it happen."

Always the optimist.

Yet, he wasn't as lively and chirpy as usual and even though I repeated myself he just wasn't a morning person and would normally take him a couple of hours to fully wake up, I stayed terrified the whole time, that he didn't actually want to - or could - go on this trip but he just didn't know how to tell me.

At the time he was obsessed with a phone game, similar to Candy Crush but not exactly that. I remember gently letting him know it was okay for him to play on the train, he didn't have to entertain me...And even that made me feel apprehensive, because how could he not know I wanted him to be absolutely free to be himself around me? How could he not know I also wanted things to be easier?

He had grown to believe I wanted all of his time, when all I had ever wanted was not to be forgotten, even if I wasn't physically there.

The anxiety stayed with me the whole day, but I didn't voice it.

"He's here. We're here. Stop worrying. What more could he do?"

But to be honest with you, looking back now, I don't remember any of that. Not if I don't force myself to remember.

What I remember, the first feeling that surrounds me from the inside if I linger on the memory of that day, is a complicity, a gentleness, a care I hadn't felt since February and I still have to replicate since then.

The same complicity that - because I have seen it and felt it - single-handedly push me to stay against everyone's better judgment.

During the day I stopped to pet a cat in front of the Potters' house. He stayed a few steps back.

I kneeled down on the gravel, extended one finger to let the cat familiarize with my scent and then stroked his back for a good couple of minutes. I let my hair fall to cover my face and I breathed back the tears that were always ready to flow. And I wondered if he could still, if he could ever again, feel the insides of my heart from across a room.

I wondered if - should he, my best friend, never come back to me - I would ever find that same connection with anyone again.

I grieved. For a few seconds, away from his eyes. I grieved the perfect companion he had been and the blissful woman I used to be by his side. I grieved all the emotions nobody thought I should grieve. And maybe that is precisely why that cat had stopped and waited for me to approach him...If you know cats, you'll know what I mean.

And then I stood up and walked back to him, smiling because "cats".

Hours later I discovered he had taken a picture of me while I was petting that cat.

I love that picture.

Everything I am is in that picture: I am wearing one of my favourite sweatshirts, I love the shape of my body even though it's not what social standards dictate as beautiful, there's a cat there which isn't even hinting at moving away and there's a Harry Potter location in the background. And my once best friend, possibly the most significant and defining person I will ever cross paths with, took the photo without me asking.

I've wondered why he decided to take it, but all the answers I've been giving myself I've dismissed them as wishful thinking. I can't ever ponder the possibility that our connection still stretches between us without ever breaking, I can't entertain the hope we are each other's red thread.

I settled on the idea he just had his phone in his hand and just so happened to capture the turning point instant of my year of grief.

I had to make this downsized friendship work and in order to succeed I had to stop assuming he still held a special spot for me in his life.

On the way back to the station his mood seemed to be getting worse, not angry, just gloomier and after a couple of times of me asking if everything was okay he admitted he felt sick. He's such a delicate lad, getting a cold from not sleeping enough and getting cramps and nausea when it gets a little windy.

My motherly instinct kicked in and with a tenderness literally no one in my circle has ever heard from me, I offered to wait for the next train and get a hot drink to calm his stomach. I knew he was feeling really sick when he agreed to my plan without pretending "it's fiiiine, it's gonna be okay."

I let him order our teas because I don't understand english tea and we sipped it while sitting in front of the station cafe's window overlooking the parking lot. I knew he felt awful, because I know he likes the comfort of his home especially when he's feeling a little bit unease (four days in his hometown and no contact with the world because he was feeling too many things at once, remember?), but I was there with him and I would have done everything in my power to make it all better.

I would have absorbed his pain with my bare hands.

Well, I couldn't do that, but I could be absolutely incapable of drinking tea from a take away cup and even though that wasn't on purpose, it made us both laugh.

Eventually we boarded the train, he slowly felt better, we even had a few minutes of meaningful conversation about how he missed a friend of his who had cut him off with no warning (ironic) and decided to go to my house to watch about 8 hours of Star Wars content.

I remember three things, as usual:

1) I fully expected him to want to go home as soon as we were back in London, so it surprised me when he suggested we'd do an unplanned movie night.

2) He fell asleep on my couch around 10pm, probably due to a combination of an early rise and his stomachache, and I felt this rush of affection because how relieving is it to see someone you care about at peace after seeing them in pain?

3) Andor's adoptive mother, from the Star Wars series we had landed on that night, pronouncing the line "I love him more than anything he could ever do wrong" just as I let myself feel that affection.

I did. I still do. We may not be destined to be in each other's life forever, but whenever, however I take my exit, I will not hate him.

Like I said, I am the heart.

The Disney Exhibition happened two months later.

I had bought tickets with my parents, but at some point it seemed like they couldn't travel to London, so I asked him and another friend of ours to go together.

I was expecting something to go wrong and sure enough it did.

He messaged me at midnight the night before, asking why we were going to the exhibition together if my parents had actually made it to London.

I played dumb and explained the reason why, but I knew a question like that, even though it was coming from him, was not his doing. I wondered if she had planted the doubt in his mind that I had lied about my parents not coming just so that I could have an excuse to invite him. I don't know, I will never probably know, if I was right, but for the sake of argument I'll point out that if I had wanted to orchestrate something like that, I would not have invited anyone else.

Still, my mind spiralled.

Would he really believe I'd lie to him like that? Did he really think me that pathetic? Above all, had her claws sunk that deep into his skin that he couldn't discern my actual behaviour from her jealousy?

"Please don't let this linger in the air the whole night. Tell me what's going on," I begged him, as patiently as I could, against my basic instincts.

I wouldn't hear from him until 6am the next morning. Needless to say, I slept something like 20 minutes all together that night.

They had argued the whole night because apparently he had promised her to go to the exhibition for her birthday; he had never bought tickets, she had never mentioned it for a whole month after and threw a fit when she found out he was going to go with me.

He spared me the details of the argument and I pray to every single god our entire race believes in, that the words I imagine were said were not actually said.

"I'm sorry i'm letting you down again," he told me at the end of a frantic, apologetic, pitiful text.

And I hated her for making him feel like that.

I saw the manipulation behind the whole argument, the way she had used his forgetfulness to make him feel guilty, because yes he has a tendency to forget plans, but he also always remembers them at the last minute in the end. If he hadn't remembered that even after a whole night of arguing, I genuinely do not believe that promise was ever actually made.

But he'd believe it.

He'd believe to be both a horrible, cheating boyfriend and disappointing best friend.

And I wasn't going to fuel that belief. I wasn't going to stretch him in eighteen different directions. Even if he was consistently choosing people who took advantage of his people-pleasing, even if I had more reasons than anyone in his life to punch him in his guts, I wasn't going to be part of that group.

"I'm not mad, not even one bit." I really wasn't. I don't know why. Therapy, I guess. "And you don't have to come to the exhibition if it's such a problem or if you're exhausted from arguing. Just please don't shut down. I know you think it makes it easy, but I promise it just hurts you more."

I genuinely thought he'd run away to his parents for four days again...which I mean, it would be fine if he really needed it, but I needed to reiterate I was there for him.

Always.

Particularly if he had the slightest doubt I was gonna leave.

We never talked about that day.

I bought him a Spiderman funko pop at the exhibition and gave him a hug before proceeding to fall off the stairs when he came to my house later that evening, but I didn't want to - nor need to - know about the details of that argument.

All I knew was I was on the right path. For myself.

She could pin all her insecurities on me, dictate the rules of his freedom and free will, forbid our friendship, but for the first time in the entire year it was suddenly clear to me that none of it was actually my fault.

I had dropped my expectations, stayed away from him every time it wasn't necessary, kept my thoughts about their relationship to myself, I had done everything I could to remove myself from her radar except actually disappearing from the face of the earth.

If that was still not enough for her to feel valued and safe, if she could still find excuses to make him feel bad about whatever he was giving her, if she couldn't see he had taken stuff away from all of us in his life to give it all to her, if she still felt like their relationship wouldn't sustain unless they were physically together or constantly in touch all the time, then the cause was to be searched inward.

I had nothing to do with it.

That epiphany and the effortless complicity that simply existed between me and him even as I actively tried to push it in the basement locker of my persona...Those are the two thoughts I hold on to when the waters threat to start whirling again.

And unfortunately, they very often do.

DEPRESSION

On some days I wake up and instantly know it's going to be hard.

On those days I feel it all, all over again.

The death, the anger, the injustice.

It doesn't matter if I've gone weeks without a hint of hopelessness.

I emphasize every little emotion...If someone is nice to me, I weep and if something triggers me, I fall apart.

On those days I struggle to swim back the most, because I feel like all my work, my therapy, my bargaining, my efforts have been for nothing.

I will never come out of this.

I will never come back from this.

I will never be happy again, complete again.

I will always be alone, because if my best friend could leave me so easily, then what chance do my other friends have? What chances do strangers have?

It's unfair of me, because strangers don't know me and my friends have never made me work so hard for their friendship and they all stayed anyway. They all keep showing up. They all remember me.

They save me in every little way they can master.

And I hate myself because on some days, on those days, I can't seem to care about anything other than the fact he didn't. I've had so many of those days that I even stopped writing for what is probably the longest I have ever gone without writing. Ever.

On those days I imagine a little protective entity up above, watching over me and saying "THAT was your best shot. You ignored it. I am done sending you anyone else."

Was he really my best, last shot? He's not the first one who slipped through my fingers because I was too afraid, too rational, too...much.

How many more chances could I be granted?

Should I have given in and forced myself to fall in love with him so that I could be entitled to my feelings?

No.

I didn't want him to be my friend by force. Sure as hell I wouldn't want him to be the love of my life by force either.

That's not how the love of your life works. I don't care how long I have to wait for it. That's not the story I wanna tell.

And after all, can you really force someone to love you? You can force someone to be with you, like she did, but I want to be Loved. I haven't postponed romance in my life just to settle for someone I don't wanna lose but doesn't make me feel whole in all my flaws. I want it to be unavoidably mutual, playful and meaningful all at the same time. I don't want to be half of a couple people wonder why they're even together, like him and her. I want to be the one that makes sense, the one that someone like me would look at and hold on to a frail hope a little bit longer because...look at them, it's possible.

Yet on those days I can't help but wonder if we were just too stupid, self absorbed in our nerdiness and lightness to notice what everyone else seemed to notice.

That we didn't need anyone else.

But like I said, what ifs aren't a thing.

What is real is that I, for sure, didn't need anyone else.

He, on the other hand, needed everyone but me.

I just so happened to be there when no one else was.

ACCEPTANCE

I'm not there yet.

Not fully.

Every passing day I get a little more aware of how much I've overcome, how long I've survived, how unreal that fear of death was on that first night but also how truthful my worry that our friendship was dying under our blindfolded eyes.

However, it is now normality to me, that we don't talk, we don't make plans, we don't show up at each other's door despite living ten minutes away from each other. We don't leave our favourite snacks in each other's lockers at work or post-its on the computer screen when one is closing and the other one is opening the next day.

We will always have an endless list of movies we were meant to watch and places we were meant to visit together, which we will now never tick off.

Or worse...we will tick them off with someone else, probably remembering that was "our" thing.

For me at least...He doesn't remember any of this, I'm sure.

We're incredibly close colleagues, but I have to work every day on convincing myself our friendship - the real one, the good one, the one everyone envied and someone enjoyed to see shattered - is a long gone memory I will never stop grieving.

No matter how many people believe I shouldn't.

#grief #stages of grief #breakup #friendship #feelings #thoughts #short stories #love #pain #writing #therapy #mental health #anger #denial #bargaining #depression #acceptance

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viviskull · 2 years

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@vulpesxastrolis : x

They hadn’t been anticipating such a sharp escalation, jerking their head away from the other fox’s jaws, paws scrambling for a moment as they stumble backward, a look of shock and hurt on their face.

By now, their own hackles have risen considerably, with their tails bushed out to twice their original size, and for once, Ren looks considerably shaken, afraid, even. Perhaps they’d grown too comfortable in Mystery’s presence… They’d forgotten how temperamental other foxes could be– Especially the older ones, although this recognition only serves to make Ren feel embarrassingly foolish and careless.

For a moment, the roseate fox appears almost frozen to the spot, internally seeming to debate whether or not they should really go or not (Mystery does look hurt bad, after all…) But they are a flighty creature by nature, and instinct seems to win over, and they turn and abscond with a whine, dashing across the stretch of grass between them and the lush forest growth.

Although their shock and hurt feelings are spurring her to find a forest nook somewhere to curl up and pout, that will have to come later, as they’ve resolved to find Vivi; Mystery still needs attention, and maybe the blue-haired lady can help better than Ren can.

The instant he sees Ren recoil the minute their eyes connect, a flickering pinch of regret practically chokes his instinctive, burning anguish. The involuntary trembles, the pure look of terror.. A once playful spirit whose carefree trust had been immediately shattered by his own teeth. A warning he threw already swung right back around to turn against him; shooting right back into his chest, his guilt twisted deep into his own heart like a knife. He only wanted to keep them at a distance, to prevent them from becoming the next breakable object of his own pained anguish. Yet, no matter how much he tried, he always seemed to bring more pain in his wake.

He always seemed to be cursed from the day he walked the earth. Every outer connection he made always seemed to burn the moment he seemingly made the wrong move. First his mother, his own family, his wife, and now.. Could he even amend the pure fear he struck into the heart of his own friend?

Mystery tried to muster the strength to speak, to take a step forward. He had to do something. He had to apologize. He couldn’t just-

A hefty shock of pain shot throughout his abdomen the second he tried to get onto his hind legs. He immediately crashed back down towards the ground like an oversized wave weighted down his entire body. The twinges of pain were suddenly too much. He breathed in another shallow breath, his strength quickly sapped away from him as more of his blood spilled from his ripped open wounds. Bits of white stained his fear, yet the familiar colors of crimson still dominated his underbelly.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but hang by a mere thread. All he could do as he laid there was watch his one companion dart away from the second he moved towards him. More guilt piled up into his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

For once, he couldn’t bear the pain any longer, the darkness was quick to engulf him in that instant.

+================================================+

As you ran with all the energy and adrenaline that practically squeezed every little breath of air you sucked in, all you could do was run. Sweat collected and clung to your fur. Your heart pounded hard in your chest as your own fear twisted at every stride you took. You didn’t know where you were truly going, but wherever you went.. You knew it had to be far away from him. Every instinct screamed at you to do so, but in your heart you knew he still needed help.

Where would you find it though? You could only think of one place, the place where you once first met. If he wouldn’t listen to you? Maybe the blue haired girl could knock some sense into him, too.

Running as you went, twisting and zipping past trees as you heard leaves crunch beneath your paws, you heard the screeching caws of crows flying overhead. Little critters such as rabbits and squirrels literally had to dart out of your path as you zoomed past. It was hard to see, even with the gentle array of the moon’s pale light. Tall over looming shadows of the trees stretched as far as the eye could see. Where were you really going? Was this even the right way??

However, there wasn’t much time to think. You heard a loud snap of a branch not too far behind you.

#Ah! I love acting! {RP Thread}#A good boy {Mystery}#Write it down! {Canon}#vulpesxastrolis #((being a fox has its downfalls BUT OOF))

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Brothers Accidentally Make the MC Cry

Hello, this is the obligatory italics blurb that I have to put under my titles or else things look weird and it bothers me. Don’t mind the blurb. The blurb is a friend. (Though I could start writing pieces of a little story up here just to see if anyone even reads them… Hm…. Ideas, ideas...)

Warning: Angsty

Lucifer

If he were being honest, he’d say that a part of him had always feared this would happen...

Lucifer likes to tell himself that he’s invincible, but everyday stresses can get to him just like anybody else. And like other people, he may not always act his best when he’s dealing with a full plate…

The MC hadn’t meant to make his day harder when they told him that they accidentally broke a lamp. It was a genuine accident! But Lucifer was still dealing with the fallout from another one of Mammon’s failed schemes, Satan had cursed all of his ties again, and Beel had eaten every scrap of food in the House… for the second time that week...

In comparison to everything else, a broken lamp was quite minor, but for Lucifer it was just the last straw and, for just a moment, he lost control…

His palm slamming against his desk hard enough to snap its legs and send it crashing to the ground. He scarcely knew what kind of look he had on his face, but whatever it was, he had made his human jump back in shock...

Really, it was silly for them to assume that he had gotten that upset over a lamp, but he saw tears starting to gather in their eyes all the same as they stammered out a quiet apology…

It felt like an ice spike to the heart. Damn his temper… He really ought to have been more careful with them after… well, everything he’d done before…

He was quick to go over to them, catching their face with his hand and giving them the most sincere apology he could muster while wiping away their tears… Overreactions aren’t becoming of him and he hated to cause them pain…

He, of course, took care of the lamp himself as penance and on the surface that seemed to be it (but to anyone paying attention, he had softened up on the MC considerably for at least a week. They probably could have sworn in front of Diavolo and he’d let it slide, he felt that bad about it...)

“I’m sorry, MC, I shouldn't have reacted like that… You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise… Please, there’s no need to cry…”

Mammon

Oh? What's that? His heart is now in a million pieces now...? Well, that seems fair…

He and the MC were out on one of his gambling nights and he was actually on a killer winning streak for once! Jackpots around every corner, he was rolling in it!

The MC had tried to convince him to just throw in the towel early, take his winnings while he had them and bail, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

In hindsight, their insistence must have really shown how much the MC cared about him and wanted him to keep his earnings... but in the heat of the moment all he saw was someone trying to spoil his one night of fun.

To be fair to Mammon, it’s rather rare for him to lose control of his anger like he did. But when they tried to pull him away from the roulette table, he genuinely snarled at them and told them to get lost...!

Fortunately, he regretted his actions immediately after he saw the hurt in their eyes…

If their goal had been to get him to step away from the table, they achieved it. But only because he got up to pull them into a hug while stammering out apologies… Watching them actually shed tears hurt worse than any rope Lucifer had ever tied around him...

He spent the rest of the night away from the casino and trying to cheer up his human like his life depended on it... Seeing them in pain just tore him up that much.

"Ah, come on MC… I'm sorry, honest…! Please don't look at me like that, I'll do whatever ya want okay...? Just no more cryin…"

Leviathan

Now thinks he's the worst, literally the worst. Lower than lesser demon spit. Lower than Cerberus' shit. Lower than… well, you get the idea…

Levi can get very… intense when things involving his passions are brought up. This can be a fairly endearing quality… but it also means he gets disproportionately impassioned about seemingly minor things.

Levi ended up snapping at the MC when they let him over-sleep one day. This wasn’t unusual for them to do as Levi’s sleep schedule was notoriously shitty, but they shouldn't have done it that particular day…

An item he wanted on Akuzon was going to go live that morning and he had to be awake to participate in the bidding. He had mentioned it to the MC the day before, but he blew past it so quickly they didn’t actually remember…

He found out that he missed the bidding after he woke up and he was pissed. Genuinely enraged that they didn’t remember to wake him up to the point that he was shouting and baring his fangs!

… Really it was not a good look and he should have known better.

The look of fear and the tears gathering in the MC’s eyes snapped him out of it like a hard slap to the face, and somehow, it stung even more than that would’ve... It wasn’t long before he was crying along with them, practically begging for forgiveness...

He made it up to them by having a private showing of their favorite movie using a projector in the Planetarium, cuddling with them under a blanket while still, occasionally, muttering apologies under his breath.

“M-MC…? MC don’t cry…!! Please don’t cry, I- I’m sorry!! I… MC… I’m so sorry…”

Satan

Like Lucifer, he always worried this would happen and he hated when it finally came to pass…

He’d spent all his life learning how to restrain his temper, but it’s not a perfect science. There are the occasional times where the heat of the moment gets the better of him and he does something he regrets…

The MC had walked in on him one morning while he was fuming about Beel leaving the fridge empty again. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen him like this, but this time he was absolutely furious.

He had told Beel again and again and again to get his snacking under control or to, you know, get up early and get more food so the whole family wouldn’t spend the morning starving but noooo! Mr. I’m Hungry never thinks about anything but his own stomach and then leaves whoever’s on kitchen duty to pick up the slack like some dimwitted muscle-bound meathead and THEN-!!

When the MC tried to take his arm to calm him down, he jerked their hand away from him and roared right in their face. He may not be a lion, but the full sound of a pissed off demon could make humans have breakdowns all on its own…

Which was more or less what the MC began to do as he gripped their wrist, panicking while taking shallow, stuttered breaths…

Satan's anger left him swiftly and he let them go, only reaching out to touch them again when he tried to wipe the tears from their cheeks… He had to coo and beg for them to calm down, which was only so successful because he was fighting back tears himself…

On a scale of 1-10 of the worse things his temper has ever done, he'd rank this a firm 200... He refused to touch them for about a week afterwards and it took a long time for him to trust himself again… He just didn't want to hurt them...

"MC?? MC…? M… Oh no… MC, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you! I… I wouldn't dare… please believe me..."

Asmodeus

Oh baby! Sweetheart! Love of his life!! No, please no… don't subject him to this…

MC and Asmo were out dancing and some witch came by to try and flatter him.

Now, Asmo is a flirt normally, but get a few drinks in him and well… Let's just say his love of attention overrides his better judgment far more often than it should and friends don't let friends go home with creepy witches.

When the MC told the witch to scram, Asmo was confused and, frankly, quite irritated. That lovely lady had been stroking his ego in all the right ways and his human just scared her off so rudely!

Under most situations, Asmo would have kept his cool better but the haze of Demonus made his tongue loose... which let the venom fly…

He couldn’t quite remember what he said. The words left his mouth so quickly that they slurred together on his clumsy tongue, but it must have been enough because the MC flinched away from him.

That hurt all on its own, but as he started to process the pain in their eyes… he had never sobered up so fast...

He had their cheeks cupped in his hands and were kissing away their tears within the instant. Though the loud music at the club should have drowned out his apologies, the MC could see it written all over his equally tearful face…

He pulled them into his arms and then out of the club shortly after, the fog of Demonus that plagued him just moments before had long left him and all he knew was that the MC needed to be brought home and cuddled… stat.

“M-MC…? I’m sorry was it something… did I…? I’m so sorry… Please don’t cry…!”

Beelzebub

He really didn't mean to shout so loud… honest...

Beel becomes a completely different person when he’s hungry. He’s not entirely to blame, as his hunger can get so intense, but he still can snap from time to time when he really doesn’t mean to…

It was right after one of his practices and Beel hadn’t gotten a chance to eat in a few hours by the time the MC came to grab him from RAD. That already had him in a bad mood, but practice hadn’t gone too well for him either…

He honestly didn’t realize how sharply he snapped at the MC when they asked him how he was. The irritation and frustration of the day all hit him at once and he became much harsher towards them than he ever intended…

It must have been the shock of seeing ever-sweet Beel suddenly get so aggressive with them that startled them so. He saw a couple tears gathering in their eyes before they could hide them and his heart just sank…

The MC was picked up in a crushing bear hug before they even let out their first sniffle. Beel didn’t even have to say how sorry he was, they could feel it in every squeeze he gave them. All while he completely ignored the growling of his stomach...

Beel wouldn’t let them go until he was certain they’d forgiven him which, honestly, took a while. Mammon was the one to ask why he had carried them all the way back to the House like a baby but… well, he didn’t need to know, now did he?

“MC, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shouted… Are you alright...?”

Belphegor

Stubborn boi is stubborn and trying really, really hard not to crack right now...

That's not going to last long.

Belphie can be a bit of a brat and since he's the baby of the family so he's used to getting his way. He and the MC don't argue a ton, but when they do, he always digs his heels in and refuses to budge an inch on anything.

So what started out as a simple disagreement on how often Belphie would flake out on his chores turned into a kick-the-door-down argument over how much his laziness left the MC to pick up the slack...

It ended as all their barn burning arguments do, with demon-form Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed refusing to look at them and the MC angrily pacing about the room until he cools off…

And then he heard it.

First a sniffle… and then a hiccup. Another sniffle then muffled whine…

Oh no… not this… Why are they crying…? They don't normally cry…

To his credit (or perhaps discredit), he managed to hold out for about two minutes before he finally glanced back at them. Seeing the MC wiping their tears all alone on the floor crumbled his resolve real quick.

The MC found themselves enveloped by Belphie's arms before they even noticed he got up. Naturally, he was pouting and trying to make it seem like "not a big deal or anything" but they could tell by the nervous twitch of his tail that he was hurting too…

Needless to say. Belphie started remembering his chores a lot more after that.

"Humans are so fragile… I didn't mean to make you cry, you know? I'll get things done just… Don't cry… please…"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines

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bubbleteaimagines · 3 years

Text

PRETENDING TO GIVE THE HAIKYUU BOYS HEAD PRANK

MINORS DNI // 18+

DAICHI SAWAMURA

So, you’re in the club room with Daichi just innocently chatting bc the rest of the team is LATE and Daichi showed up on time like the responsible man he is

So you’re just chilling when all of a sudden, you remember that random TikTok you saw like 5 months ago

Smiling shyly, you walk towards Daichi mid-sentence and just...drop to your knees

DAICHI IS SHOOOOK

Has no idea what you’re doing until you look up at him innocently

Daichi knows that look

Daichi fears that look cause that means he’s about to get his soul sucked out of his body

“Y-Y/N? Here, really? Anyone could walk in—” He stutters, eyes wide

“What do you mean Daichi?” You blink innocently, turning your head, “I’m just picking up a volleyball.”

You pick up the stray ball and Daichi just stands there, shellshocked

“What’d you think I was doing?” you ask, right as the other guys burst in

“I—”

“Daichi, y/n!” Hinata runs up to guys, totally oblivious to his captain’s face, “Guess what?!”

“What’s wrong with him?” Suga wonders as Daichi just stands there, frozen in time

You smirk, “Dunno. Guess he’s just excited to blow off some steam today.”

OIKAWA TOORU

You’re bold bold

You’re in the MIDDLE of the library when you decide to tease him, shimmering underneath the table and between his legs

Oikawa feels something poking at him so he looks down, and almost screeches when he sees your head

“Y/N-Chan! What are you doing? We’re in a library oh god—”

As much as he loves the suck™️ now is not the time, he just so happens to spot some of his teammates and panics

“Calm down Tooru,” you giggle, getting back to his level and sitting down. “I was just hiding from some of your fangirls. They have it out for me, you know?”

At first, Oikawa doesn’t respond and honestly you think you broke him for a second

But then, a sly smile grows on his face and he chuckles

“Well played, my sweet dove,” he smirks, shaking his head, “You had me fooled for a moment, I have to admit. But I’m gonna get you back, you know that right?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, but Oikawa is giving you that look™️ which means you’re seriously gonna regret this later

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

So you wanna play a funny prank on your boyfriend

Good luck LMAO

Ushi doesn’t even react when you bend towards his crotch, just watches you like 👁👄👁??

You make a move to give him the eyes™️ the ones that let him know he’s about to get that gluck gluck 3000

But he doesn’t,,, do anything??

He’s completely still and then he has the NERVE to call you out

“Y/N what are you doing?” he says so loudly the whole damn cafeteria stares at you 😩😑

You’re like 😐 “Really Ushi?” and get back up embarrassed as hell

Like cut the cameras, deadass

Now he’s really not getting the gluck and he’s so confused when you’re mad later on LMAOO

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

Suga’s been so stressed from practice he doesn’t even mind when you pull him to the club room, just sighing in relief when you drop to your knees

“Finally,” You feel SO BAD when he starts smiling and grabbing at your hair, “You know just what I need, don’t you sweetheart? You’re so attentive— god I love you.”

You wanna back out so bad cause Suga actually really does need a stress reliever but you power through somehow

“Baby what are you talking about I was just gonna tie your shoes,” You tell him and you feel so bad :(

Suga looks so disappointed you’re actually so mad at yourself

“Oh,” He frowns and steps away, “W-Well thanks...”

“Suga, baby—”

Forget those damn shoes, Suga’s getting that neck right there and then cause there’s no way you’re gonna do him dirty like that

Y’all come back like twenty mins later like “Heyyy~” 👀 and everyone just knows cause Suga is absolutely killing it out there and he’s so positive and motivated

Low key Daichi doesn’t mind him being gone for that long he’s like “THANK GOD THANK YOU Y/N,” and now Suga is back thanks to you :)

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

Poor Tobio is sweating

PLS he’s so stressed

You’re in the middle of the gym and you’re?? In front of his dick??

Kags.exe has left the chat

He’s wide eyed, a stuttering mess and you smirk cause it’s working perfectly

“Something wrong Kageyama?” You ask innocently, knowing he’s putty in your hands

“S-Someone...someone’s gonna walk in— Daichi, Suga, Hinata,” He’s rambling cause he doesn’t know what else to do cause you’re getting closer and closer and closer and —

“Well good then, they’ll see how hard you’re working,” You tell him proudly, scooping up the stray volleyball and handing it to him

“I—”

“You didn’t actually think...?” You trail off, knowing damn well he did. “...Kags?”

Congrats you broke him

Now you’re gonna have to explain to Daichi why Suga’s gonna have to set for the day LMAO

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI

Pls don’t do him like that

He’s absolutely gonna FREAK

Dropping his controller in an instant to stare at you with wide eyes

“Y-Y/N?”

Tsukki’s on the other end yelling at him about dying but Tadashi is literally too shook to even care about losing cause HELLO?

His beautiful partner is crouching between his legs giving him a look™️

“Yes baby?” You blink innocently, tilting your head

“W-We’re gonna do that now? Here? Tsukki, he—”

“I knew it!” Tadashi jumps when you suddenly pull a hair tie from the ground, trying to hold in your laugh. “I left my favorite scrunchie here, thanks for keeping it safe Yams! You’re the best!”

You kiss his cheek and Tadashi is stunned

Not only does he have to process that he’s not getting head, he’s also gonna have to deal with the fact that Tsukki is gonna kill him and now he’s hard

“...Yams?” Awe you feel so bad

Please give him the suck he deserves it after Tsukki comes through the screen to choke him out

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mlm-writer · 3 years

Text

Rutterly Filled (Omega!Wei Wuxian x Alpha!Male!Reader)

Pairing: Omega!Wei Wuxian/Wei Ying (The Untamed ver.) x Alpha!Male Reader (NOT trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 3416 POV: Second Summary: You have not had a rut ever since you have been captures with the other Wens. Now things are going well on Burial Mounds, your body decides it is time. Unfortunately, your prolonged period of being rutless meant your next one was going to be extreme. Fortunately, the Yiling Patriarch is secretly an omega and you two have been flirting ever since you met. Notes: This is 200% self-indulgent. I saw the twink, I fell in love, I wanted to wreck him. Do I need an excuse? Tags: Omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics, ruts, idiots in love, being in a relationship without realising it, reader is a himbo, loss of control, magical restraints, breeding, knotting, multiple orgasms, does Wei Ying have a dick and a pussy or a dick and an ass? up to you!, self-lubrication, fingering, blowjobs, facials, handjobs, gēge kink and fuck or die

There was no qi flowing anywhere. The only thing that filled your ‘internal stream’ was utter rage. “I told Wen Qing this would not work without a golden core!” You exclaimed as you got up and started stomping around. The alpha pheromones were rolling off you in waves and you were low key glad you were the only alpha present on Burial Mounds or you would have started a fight the second you caught a whiff of any other alpha.

“It was still worth a try. I do not think there is a way to stop your rut now.” You stomped around Wen Qing. You did not want to lash out at her. Were it not for her concoctions, you would have gone into rut a few days ago without a backup plan at all. Your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. “There is one thing I have not yet told you.” You let out a grunt, indicating you were listening. “Wei Wuxian is an omega and has offered to help you through your rut.”

You stilled for a second. The Yiling Patriarch was an omega. It only took a second for you to process. Wei Wuxian was not known to adhere to any stereotype or standard. It was not crazy to think that the Yiling Patriarch, a figure that induced fear and hate in many cultivators, was a fragile omega. He may carry himself around like a big figure, but truth to be told, he was skinny like a twig and if he was not such a good fighter, anyone could snap him in half. It all made sense, it was not a crazy thought.

“Master Wei has saved my life. I am already indebted to him. I will wait out my rut in the tent Wen Ning set up in the woods.” You were already walking to the door of Wen Qing’s humble hut, but she stood in your way. Sometimes you suspected her of being an alpha as well. One never knew, when cultivators could just simply suppress their second gender, making them all appear like betas.

“You have not had a rut in a long while due to the poor conditions we have been under. Your first rut in a while may be much more intense than you are used to.” You clenched your fist, digging your nails into the palm on your hand. Your eye twitched. “Wei Wuxian can defend himself against you, should there be any need. He is also the only omega on the whole mountain. His only condition is that you do not mark him.” You violently shook your head before you could agree to it. The man was the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes upon and while you two had been flirting, you had not yet confessed that every flirty word you shot his way was truthful. The thing between you two, unnamed and not yet romantic, was too good to risk.

You walked away from the door, before you were going to physically lash out at Wen Qing. “I will not take advantage of master Wei. I owe him too much already.”

“Your excuses are so weak, I’m starting to think that you don’t think I’m attractive.” Your whole body whipped to the door, where the omega in question had appeared with a pout on his face that made you want to kiss him. His lips were pink and glistening. They looked so full and soft. Wen Qing told him to get out, but you already caught a whiff of the omega scent you had never noticed on him before. Before you had any control of your tongue, you had agreed to spending your rut with Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch. Want bubbled up from deep within you. There was no way back now.

You followed him and his scent like a blind puppy, as he let you between trees to a tent Wen Ning had set up earlier in case you could not suppress your rut. You saw the dark red fabric in the distance, when suddenly you were caged against a tree by Wei Wuxian. “Scent me,” he whispered into your face and he did not need to say it twice. You rubbed your nose all over his neck and down to where it met his shoulder. You took deep breaths, letting your lungs fill with the sweet and spicy scent that you from now on would know as Wei Wuxian. You didn’t know how long you were rubbing yourself on him and smelling him, but after a while, the fog of alpha hormones cleared and you had a bit more grip on what was going on and what was about to happen. “Better?” Wei Wuxian giggled as he rested against you. You held him close and slowly breathed in his scent.

After a few slow breaths, you nodded and took his hand to drag him to the tent. It was big enough that you two could stand inside and there were supplies inside, mostly food and water, but also extra robes. You didn’t hear the sound of a lake behind the tent, as you dragged Wei Wuxian inside and pushed him down onto the straw mat on the ground. You crawled on top of him, but as your eyes met his, you were awfully aware of how you were acting. “Sorry, maybe we should talk about what I can and cannot do, before I lose all my patience.” Wei Wuxian laughed and shifted so you two were sitting on the straw mat, facing one another. His robes had fallen open a little and the sight of his chest threatened another frenzy to make itself known.

“You can do anything, but try not to claim me. It is a little early in our relationship for that.” You almost choked on your own saliva and started coughing. Wei Wuxian handed you a waterskin, but you needed a solid minute, before you had enough breath to actually attempt drinking anything.

“I’m sorry, but… relationship?” You watched Wei Wuxian through teary eyes from your coughing fit. He seemed to turn red in an instant, his face now matching the ribbon in his beautiful silk black hair.

“Yes? I mean I thought… we always flirt? And we drink together and you sometimes feed me at dinner? We also cuddled when we were drunk? I know we never talked about it, but we are in a relationship or something… right?” You stared at him, a little dumbfounded. He did not lie; those things happened. You just took all those things for things Wei Wuxian would do with anyone.

“I didn’t think of it that way,” you immediately regretted your words as you could see Wei Wuxian’s heart breaking all over his face, “but! But! But!” He looked at you, hopeful in a way that seemed plainly desperate. “I want it to be that way! I just didn’t realise what we were, but I want to be…” There was a flare of hormones and you shuffled forward to bury your nose against Wei Wuxian’s scent gland. “I want you, even when my rut is over, but also now. Right now.” A slight shift and you noticed you were hard between your legs.

Wei Wuxian might have noticed it too through your robes, because he was shoving at your clothes. You stood up, ripping everything off in a hurry and grabbing Wei Wuxian by his ponytail. You pulled at it until his lips were around your hard cock. You let out a moan of relief, as he immediately started sucking on the length. He resisted when you tried to get him to swallow more of you. Wei Wuxian only took the tip, but with the way he was sucking and licking, it was enough for now. You threw your head back, grunting into the air, while Wei Wuxian sucked you off. His tongue cupped the head of your cock and played with the ridge between the head and the rest of your length. The wet sounds of his mouth seemed so loud in the small space. Before he even took more of you in his mouth, you grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. Wei Wuxian took the hint and with a wet pop he pulled his mouth off your cock. You would have protested, were it not for the hand on your hard length.

The cultivator squeezed the knot at the base of your cock, everytime his hand was at the bottom of your length. You looked down at him, seeing him with his tongue out, a smile hinting behind that lewd expression, cheeks a beautiful rosy colour that matched his spit-glistened lips. You let out a groan and kept a firm grip on his shoulder. Ropes of cum spilled from your cock. Wei Wuxian’s face, hair and robes were painted white with your seed. When he finally let go of your cock, your face heated up at the sight of him. A mixture of embarrassment and arousal swimmed inside your belly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered out of breath, but Wei Wuxian just smiled at you and started taking his soiled robes off, wiping himself off with a sleeve. When he was mostly clean off your cum, he laid himself down on the straw mat, completely naked and stretched out like a meal for you to devour.

“Don’t apologise, I want this too,” he confessed with flushed skin and a hard omega dick twitching between his legs. You kneeled down and hoisted his legs onto your shoulders. Your tongue automatically fell from your lips at the scent of omega slick filling your nostrils. Lapping up the slick that had escaped his wet hole and trickled down his thighs, drew a gasp from Wei Wuxian’s lips. “Don’t tease me.”

You huffed out a laugh at the annoyance in his voice. “Or else? Will the Yiling Patriarch haunt me like a ghost and eat me?” You didn’t let Wei Wuxian reply. You held him up with one hand and pushed your tongue inside, the other hand touching his cock. The omega mewled and moaned as if he was putting on a show for you. Maybe he was. When was Wei Wuxian not making a scene? “Wei Wuxian sounds so perfect,” you growled as you licked the slick off your lips.

“If you are going to knot me until I can’t walk, at least call me Wei Ying,” the demonic cultivator huffed, his eyes ravishing your body. You smiled as you put his legs around your waist and lined your cock up with his wet hole.

“Wei Ying is perfect.” And with those words, you slid into his heat. Wei Ying gasped as he stretched around your thick alpha cock, the slick making the slide easier, but he was not in heat. You got halfway, before the resistance became too much. “Wei Ying needs to relax,” you grunted as you rutted inside him, micromovements trying to make further entrance possible.

“You’re too big,” he complained, hands on your arms and squeezing your biceps. You leaned down and caught his lips in a biting kiss. Soft, pink lips turned red under your onslaught. A hand made its way to his throat and he gasped deliciously against your wet lips. Wei Ying squirmed and gasped for breath as you frantically fucked his hole open until you were slipping in deeper. “So big, too big, I’m going to tear in two!”

You would be more concerned for him, were it nog for the thick cloud of alpha hormones clouding your judgement. Instead of sounding fearful, Wei Ying’s voice fuelled the fantasy of a helpless omega at your mercy. “Pretty omegas like you can handle this,” you growled in a voice no one woud have recognised as your own. Both hands landed on Wei Ying’s hips and you sat up, so you could thrust inside him with vigour.

Wei Ying’s voice would have been audible from miles away as he screamed mostly in pain. Coherent thoughts had long left your mind and all that was left was ‘mark’, ‘claim’, ‘fuck’, ‘knot’ and ‘breed’. Pleasure was all on your mind as you closed your eyes to fully enjoy the stretch of Wei Ying’s walls around your cock. That was until you found yourself unable to move. “No! No! No!” You growled as Wei Ying slid off your cock. He pushed you onto your knees and sat down across from you.

“I’m sorry, alpha, but don’t worry I will not leave you like this,” he croaked out as he struggled with sitting down comfortably. His chest rose and fell in deep, but ragged breaths. You now noticed the redness around his eyes and the wetness on his cheeks. Worry paved a little clarity in the lustful fog dominating your head.

“Cruel bastard,” you found yourself snarling back, in spite of the seed of worry Wei Ying’s image planted deep inside you. Before even the last syllable left your lips, Wei Ying had his hand tight around your cock and stroked, drawing a guttural groan from you. “That’s not enough, I need more,” you breathed out at the torture that was the grip of Wei Ying’s hand. It felt good, but his omega hole had felt so much better.

“And I need more preparation, I am not in heat,” Wei Ying huffed back as he reached behind himself. You could hear the wet squelch of him fingering himself and it drove you into a frenzy. You demanded being released, so you could once more claim your omega, but Wei Ying did not release you. He let you cum with his hand. Once he needed a better angle to shove more fingers inside, he switched his hand for his mouth, so he could support himself with one hand while he tried to shove his whole fist inside. His mouth felt better than his hand, but you already had had a taste of paradise and this was not it.

“You’re open enough, please, I feel like I’ll die,” you whined, shortly after you covered Wei Ying in your fourth load. No matter how often you came, it would not be enough until you knotted the omega in front of you. Wei Ying seemed to take mercy on you and he turned around. Wei Ying lowered himself onto your cock. The mercy got you moaning. You could see where you entered him as he bounced on your cock, his hole gripping your length visibly. “Yes, you feel so good omega,” you moaned as he rode your fat length. “Release me and I’ll pound you so good. I will knot you and fill you with my cum and then pound you again.” Wei Ying gasped, a hand moving to his cock to stroke it. The smell of his slick as it dripped down your cock was intoxicating.

“Gēge, you talk so indecently when you’re in a rut.” You wanted to pin him down and fuck him so bad when he called you ‘gēge’ and Wei Ying seemed to know. The glint in his eyes as he shot you a look over his shoulder was quite telling. “But I’m afraid gēge will break me if I release him. Gēge is such a strong alpha and I’m just a frail omega,” he spoke dramatically, knowing fully well he was far from a frail omega. His words would have made you cringe were it not for the fact you were in a full-on rut. The idea, the thought, the image of him being so fragile and breakable and at your mercy suddenly got something flowing in you. The feeling was unfamiliar, as was the strength it brought.

You had no mind to think about it, but enough instinct to use it. With this new-found energy, you broke yourself free from whatever was holding you in place and grabbed Wei Ying by the back of his neck. A hard shove and Wei Ying was face down, ass up on the ground with your cock plunging into his wet hole. “Maybe they are right, the Yiling Patriarch is cruel,” you drew a loud moan from the man below you with a hard thrust, “and evil.”

Wei Ying did not move from where you had him. Instead, he took your punishing pace with the prettiest moans you ever had the honour of hearing. His voice filled the tent with a symphony of pleasure, which only grew louder when you pressed inside and your knot slipped in. Wei Ying screamed in pleasure and pain as you slotted the two of you together and filled him up with your hot seed.

Still, it was not enough. He was beautiful, had the most breedable body you ever laid eyes upon. How could it be enough to only fill his slick hole once?You only stilled for a minute inside of him, before you pulled out until the knot pulled painfully at the inside of his rim. Then, you pushed back inside, as deep as you could go. Wei Ying whined as you fucked him like that, the knot dragging against his walls and drawing out the melody of pain mixed with pleasure. He moaned and screamed about how he was stretched to the limit, but there was no urgency in his voice this time.

Everything was a blur from there. Somewhere between rutting inside him and fucking him with your knot, Wei Ying had gone near-silent. His ass had become so open that your knot no longer served its purpose of keeping you inside as you spilled your seed. You didn’t know how many rounds you went, how often you filled the Yiling Patriarch with your load or how often the omega came himself. In one final mind-blurring explosion of pleasure, you passed out. Whether it was on top of him or if you managed to fall beside him was out of your control.

When you woke up, however, you found Wei Ying on top of you. The smell of sex still hung heavy in the air, mixed with pheromones, both alpha and omega. A groan left your dry throat as you lifted your head to take a look at the man to whom you were indebted with your life, twice. He looked like he was not going to wake up for another 100 years. You tried to brush the hair out of his face, but your fingers got tangled in the silk black strands. Guilt filled your heart at the sight of bruises on his hips and sides. A respectful look down revealed there was still cum dripping out of his hole.

You untangled yourself from him. It took you a good hour to get Wei Ying cleaned up and placed on a clean towel; the straw mat was completely ruined. You had him on his side, still sleeping peacefully, while you tried to comb the tangles carefully out of his hair. You were almost done when you noticed him stir. “Wei Ying?” You called out softly, hand shooting for the waterskin. You held it to his lips. “Don’t move; drink first.” To your surprise, he obeyed. He tried to sit up, but winced. You took the hint and helped him sit on your lap, the gap between your legs perfect for his ass to rest between with no pressure on it. “I’m sorry. I lost control.”

Wei Ying blinked at you and then reached for the jar of wine in the corner. You chuckled and handed it to him, still cradling him close. He took a few gulps, before speaking up. “I thought I would die,” he pouted in a somewhat playful way that gave you conflicted emotions about his words. “Gēge, you were such a monster. Next time, I will use a stronger talisman to keep you down.”

You inhaled sharply. ‘Next time’, he had said. You licked your dry lips and nodded, agreeing with him. A signature smile painted the omegas lips, before he snuggled closer to you. “Gege is adorable when he is worried about me. I’ll be fine, I swear. Just don’t make me do anything for a few days.” You let out an empty laugh, relieved and still worried. Another nod as you put a hand on his head, holding it close to your shoulder. You twisted your head, placing a kiss upon Wei Ying’s temple. He hummed happily and closed his eyes.

“Wei Ying! You need to eat before you go back to sleep!”

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

Jax + 👀⏰🚭

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

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Up in Smoke

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, overused tropes y’all have already read (friends to lovers + only 1 bed) Word Count: ~1.3k Emoji Prompt: 👀⏰🚭 (key words are in bold)

“What?”

You glare at him and keep your mouth shut. How the fuck dare he ask what.

He went and said it as if he has any right to look so hot when he’s supposed to look like shit. Just sitting there. Sleep-deprived stare, messy ass hair. Ratty old shirt stinking of sweat and dirt and he just doesn’t care. Jax Fucking Teller never looks like shit, not even just a little bit.

Last night he got stuck in a fight and needed somewhere quiet he could crash and hide. As his best friend you somehow got caught in the middle of it. Now you and Jax are cooped up here in this motel out on the roadside. Some unspoken tension rears its ugly head between you two and you’ve no clue how to get rid of it.

Actually you do—you have more than just a clue—you know you need this stupid sexy piece of shit to fucking fuck you.

“How’d you sleep,” you ask without lifting your voice into a question. Your own sleep wasn’t that deep. You’d tossed and turned in every possible direction. On a mattress that felt like the pit of hell—expected nothing less from this motel, given the room was so dirt cheap.

He gives you that signature you’re-a-stupid-whore look which between friends is endearing. Friends or not, coming from him it’s fucking hot. A whole damn kink. “How do you think.”

You cross your arms and scowl. He chose to sleep on a scrappy old towel. “Christ, don’t be a dick about it. I told you to take the blanket but you said you’d be fine on the floor without it.”

Jax ignores that and just pulls a cigarette out. Sticks it in the sweet pink pucker of his mouth. You want to be that cigarette right now. You wish he’d read your mind somehow. Why can’t this big blonde idiot figure it out…?

He takes a puff and looks so hot you might start choking. You can’t handle that today. “Put that away. This room’s non-smoking.”

Snickers at you as his broad shoulders lift up in a slight shrug. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”

You start to fume, the smell of smoke and your own slutty desperation swirling all around the room. “You’re gonna set off the alarm—”

Reach down to yank the cigarette out of his mouth but then he swiftly grabs your arm. That ice-blue fire in his eyes that could do you serious harm. The way you wish he would—he’d rough you up so fucking good… he’s more the fire-breathing dragon than Prince Charming but to you the beast has all the fucking charm.

Last night he’d been a gentleman and had insisted that you take the bed. Today you’re mad ‘cause you had been desperate for him to share the bed with you instead.

He doesn’t know that yet. But he could sense it from the second that you grabbed his cigarette. Jax doesn’t want your lifelong friendship to go up in smoke but he’s been itching to get in your pants for years and if you’re standing here and handing him a ticket… maybe if the sex is epic then it’s worth getting his dick wet. Epic sex is one thing Jax Fucking Teller never regrets.

***************

“Bitch, all you had to do was ask.”

He’s such an ass. That shit is so typical Jax.

He growls it fierce, ridge of his teeth grazing the soft lobe of your ear—thick fingers slide across your slick sensitive clit, seeking the tight heat of your slit—then fucking pierce—he can’t believe he has you here and holy shit—it’s stark how different you appear. He tells himself it’s just a fuck, but no such luck, as something sparks and runs him over like a truck.

Jax Teller never feared the dark but just the light: something that felt too fucking bright. Done so much wrong he has no right. Having you near—this was exactly what he’d feared. Had tried to fight. He’d won last night. He’s losing it with you right here.

The lines between friendship and whatever this is should’ve stayed clear. For fucking years, that was the path he’d tried to steer. Stroking his dick alone in bed, or drowning in another chick he had just met—picturing you instead—that was the closest he could get.

Until you grabbed that motherfucking cigarette.

It’s barely been a minute yet, and you’re already dripping wet. It hits him now that’s how you’ve always been for him. It hits him now that you adore him. That you’d do anything for him.

Hits him in the way you hold him like you’re on the verge of death—the way you lick into the heaven of his kiss with your sweet tongue, fucking explore him—suck the smoke out of his lungs, white hot and seething. You’re the fire that the beast in him is breathing. He’s your first and last and only fucking breath.

You’re set to shatter into pieces on his knuckles, and he wants to fucking cry at just how beautiful you are, but that’s the shit that would cut deep enough to scar, and so instead he fucking chuckles.

Makes you weak; you’d scream at him if you had words to even speak. Just leave it to this piece of shit to fucking lighten it. He drags his fingers from your soaking cunt right in the instant just before you hit your peak, and you can’t keep him in no matter how you tighten it.

Here you had thought you both felt something that meant everything, but suddenly you worry that your inner slut got carried off imagining. Suddenly you think of course that’s not what’s happening. You’re just spread out beneath your best friend on the crap mattress of some seedy motel, and there’s no fucking way the fallout from this session will go over well. No way you can go back to what you were, after this ravaging. No way you can go further and become more in the future, which is what your stupid little heart desires more than anything. No way in hell. No way in fucking hell.

You’re slipping fast and he can tell. Tripping somewhere inside yourself. He’d run away from all the weight of that—or fuck through all the issues, if it’s not too late for that—that’s what he’d do, if you were anybody else.

You’re not.

You’re you and that’s what scares him. Like, a lot. He’s never felt something that tears him, but he’s shocked to find the pain and fear of feeling more than he can even bear just makes him harder, pushes him to take this farther. God, it’s super fucking hot.

The doubt and heartbreak radiating from you twist him up in knots. Jax had no clue, just what that little laugh off of his wicked lips would do. He did it to protect himself but didn’t think it would screw you. He sees it’s true, your pretty face painting the picture of your thoughts. Inches from pushing him away but pull him close instead ‘cause whether friend or lover, you’ll still love him like no other. Cling to him with all you’ve got.

He knows you better than he has any damn right to. He’s in you before he ever drives inside you. Always has been. This was real before it happened.

Holds you as you’re gasping—big strong hand soft on your face, the other keeps your hips in place, forehead against yours as he looks at you with eyes the blue of hope and then becomes the rope you’re grasping.

All the lines of who you were—the blindness of before—didn’t just blur. They fucking broke. You take him deep into your core, and let him wreck until it hurts, beg without words, for him to fuck you like a whore and so much more, and breathe him in so deep you choke.

There’s light on both ends of this cigarette, and no regret, as everything goes up in smoke.

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

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370 notes · View notes

plsimsuchasimp · 3 years

Text

cheating.

part 2 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: one (1) curse word, cheating, brief implied sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fighting

Wc: 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n: i’m so sorry for this angst but i had to do it for y’all... didn’t have it in me to write a happy ending, maybe later.

The rain was pouring down, clattering against the roof of the gym. You, sitting against the wall in a corner by the benches, watched Suna’s team play, smiling slightly at the way they seemed to seamlessly move together. Your boyfriend looked concentrated, green eyes flickering from one player to another.

His phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, intending to set it to Do Not Disturb so you could do work, but the notification caught your eye.

“Hey!” It read, “it was so good to meet you >;) you made me feel good <3″

Instantly, your heart drops into your stomach. Silently willing for the notification to disappear, your eyes cling to the screen as yet another popped up. “I miss you babe, we should do that again”

Your eyes begin to burn, trying to deny the obvious truth of what you saw in front of you. Suna Rintarou had cheated on you, and from the looks of it, with a stranger. You swallow, hard, as the lump in your throat grows and tears begin to form in your eyes. No wonder he’d been overly affectionate in the past week, he probably felt guilty.

What hurt most wasn’t that he didn’t tell you, pretended that everything was fine; no, it was the realization that you just weren’t enough for him. All the time you’d spent on him, everything you’d done, the words of confirmation and the countless amount of love and affection you’d given him, it all wasn’t good enough.

You were bad enough for him to seek loving in a stranger’s arms.

Clicking the phone off, you put it down and stared into space for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks at any second. Practice was wrapping up, and you couldn’t face Suna right now. Luckily for you, he was on cleanup duty this week, so he had to stay late.

Trying to shake the rigidity out of your limbs, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag, not taking the time to organize them so they all fit. Head down, you headed for the door, hoping that Suna wouldn’t look over. Opening the door, you were faced with another harsh realization: It was raining and Suna was supposed to drive you home. That wasn’t happening today, for sure. Glancing around, you spotted Atsumu pulling his umbrella out of his bag, and rushed over to him.

“Hey Atsumu,” you said, attempting to keep your voice steady, “Can I catch a ride with you?” He was going to ask why, when Suna had a perfectly good car, but then he caught a glimpse of the tear streaking silently down your face and decided it might be better to wait until later.

Unusually serious, he agreed and put a comforting hand on the small of your back as you two hurried out of the door under his umbrella. Opening his car door for you, he let you in and then went over to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning on the car so it would warm up.

Stealing the occasional look at you, he noticed you were shaking and turned up the heat in the car although he was warm from volleyball practice. He started driving, sensing that you didn’t want to talk. Jaw clenched, he drove in silence for a couple minutes, then dared to speak.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hearing sniffles from your side of the car and seeing your shoulders shake, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Gulping, he awkwardly reached out a hand to pat you on the back, but this only made you cry harder.

Looking up to face him, tear streaks staining your cheeks, you tried to stop shivering from shock. “S-Suna,” you mumbled, fighting to keep your voice from completely breaking, but another sob escaped before you could get anything more out.

“Wha’? Suna what?” he prodded, brow furrowing in concern. You rarely cried, so he knew this was something really serious.

“Suna c-cheated on me.” The last couple of words were whispered, your voice breaking, and Atsumu’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Your relationship with Suna had always seemed perfect. He’d seen the way Suna looked at you, his eyes soft, seen the way his behavior changed around you, seen his eyes light up whenever you smiled. This wasn’t possible.

He opened his mouth, shutting it again when words failed him. You were hunched in the passenger’s seat, shaking so hard he could hear your elbows accidentally hitting the car door. Without a second thought, he took his sweatshirt off and covered you with it, hoping that it would warm you up at least a little bit.

“I- I’m so sorry,” he muttered, unsure how to comfort a clearly distraught you. As soon as your shudders subsided, his mind turned to Suna and what he would do next time he saw him. No doubt he deserved to be beat up for what he did to you, hurting you like that, but it just didn’t make sense. Suna was totally in love with you, and it was obvious to any outsider.

He started the car again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. “Y/N, I’m gonna drop ya off at home, okay?”

A quick nod from you reassured him, and you two drove with just the raindrops crashing down on the roof of the car. When you arrived at your house, you made a motion to give back his sweatshirt, but he just waved a hand and said “Don’t worry about it. Ya can return it to me when I next see ya.” Your lips trembled and you turned away from him, making the way to your door and letting yourself in. He didn’t leave until he saw that you were inside, then started driving back to the gym.

You shed your jacket and turned on the heater in your house, not bothering to turn on the lights or draw the curtains. Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into bed and under your blanket and let the tears come, hugging the pillow that smelled too much like Suna.

Meanwhile at the gym, Suna was just finishing up and wondering where you’d gone to. The guilt of his mistake still hung with him, and he was looking to take you out to dinner tonight and spend some more time with you. However, when he saw his phone laying faceup, the bold words in text still plainly on the screen, he knew that you’d found out, and his heart contracted. Sinking to his knees, he struggled to breathe through the upcoming panic. He was in love with you, and he had no idea what had possessed him to fall into someone else’s arms for the night.

The feeling surged when he remembered that one of your biggest fears/insecurities was not being good enough, and a short gasp fell out of his mouth as he realized just how much he’d messed up. The gym door swung open, banging against the wall with the sheer force of the push. There stood Miya Atsumu, a murderous expression on his face.

“Suna!” He barked, and the middle blocker glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the phone clutched in his hands, frantically pressing the call button as it once again went straight to voicemail. The sound of your voice was almost too much for him to bear, his breathing accelerating and his head pounding.

y/n please pick up please i’m so sorry i swear i didn’t mean it they mean nothing to me i love you i love you so much please don’t leave me

His fingers speed across the keyboard, hoping against hope that you’ll talk to him. Any sort of contact. The phone is suddenly knocked from his hand by Atsumu, the look on his face nothing short of furious.

“What the fuck were ya thinking?” He spits, rage evident in the bulging veins of his neck. “You hurt y/n so badly that they had to drive home with me rather than face another second of ya.”

His words stung Suna, because they both knew they were true. He doesn’t resist when Atsumu pulls him to his feet, glaring at him and shoving him towards the wall.

“You’re pathetic. Y/N is the best person ya will ever meet, and ya ruined it all.” Once again, Suna doesn’t reciprocate, his eyes falling miserably to the ground. Atsumu’s fist comes up and hits Suna straight in the stomach, forcing the breath out of his lungs as he collapses to the floor. Atsumu looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, walking away to leave Suna where he is, slumped against the wall.

His eyes are dull, the life drained out of them, because he knows Atsumu is right. A notification causes his phone to buzz and he picks it up immediately, hoping to see anything from you, but it’s just another text from the fling. Hatred for himself and the person fills him, and he slams his phone down, allowing his head to sink into his knees.

He needs to see you, so he grabs his stuff and rushes to his car, barely remembering to lock the gym on his way out. Going ten miles above the speed limit, he makes it to your house ten minutes after you had.

Walking up to your front door, he knocks urgently, over and over again. He hears shuffling from behind, and the door opens to reveal you in an oversize sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to him and sweatpants, eyes red and puffy from crying.

The instant you see him, time seems to stop. The hurt is written all over your face, and the regret all over his. He can’t seem to move, can’t do anything besides whisper your name.

“Y/N.”

You shake your head, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and turn away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Suna.”

With those words, his heart shatters a little bit more. He was your Rin, your Rinnie, never Suna. “Please-” the door slams in his face and he hears the lock turning, signaling the final goodbye. He screams, pounding on your door as the panic overtakes him.

“Please! I love you! I’m so sorry, just please don’t leave me! I’ll go insane if you do!” Tears stream down his face and yours, mourning each other on opposite sides of the door. His words wrack you, tempt you to open the door and forgive him, but you can’t. He already showed you he didn’t care.

Half an hour passes, with the yells from the door fading into whimpers. Finally, you hear a car door slam, and you allow yourself to sob, held immobile on the floor.

You’re broken, and it’s his fault. His head falls onto the steering wheel, not caring that it sets off the car horn.

Still, the rain patters on the roof, both of you less than three hundred feet apart, but forever separated.

He’ll never love anyone like he loved you.

#suna rintaro imagine #suna x y/n #suna x reader #agh im sorry for this angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#atsumu scenarios #atsumu miya #suna rintarou #suna angst #atsumu x reader

872 notes · View notes

earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

villain.

| draco malfoy x reader / theo nott x reader | smut | angst |

anon requested. smutty draco x y/n where they’ve been dating for months or years and draco cheated on her

cw: infidelity, sadism, branding, non-consensual voyeurism (revenge)

a/n: this request was a lot, it was long, and it made me FEEL THINGS

The alcohol burned going down.

The bass echoed in your feet as music blared from speakers, sweaty bodies moving and grinding against one another, just mere feet away. You were disgusted by the scene before you.

Where was your lover?

“Y/N!” A drunk friend called your name.

An empty smile crossed your face. You tipped the glass back, swallowing the rest of its contents. You needed it.

“Have you seen him?” You called over the music, practically shouting in your friend’s ear.

“Seen whooo?” They giggled, fingers clutching the glittering material of your dress. It felt like nothing on your body, you felt naked.

“Draco!” You spat, shoving them off when they shook their head no.

Annoyance was all too familiar, wrapping around you like a well-known friend. Fuck.

You slithered through the party, your eyes darting everywhere, searching for a head of white-blonde hair. Your efforts proved futile.

“Are you looking for Draco?” Blaise’s dark hand caught yours, grabbing your attention.

“Yes!” Finally, some help.

“I saw him go off to his room,” he pointed to the hallway off of the common room.

Blaise’s eyes were full of terrible pity, and you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach.

No.

“Can I get you a drink?” He tried to stop you.

“No, get off of me.”

You pushed your way through dancing bodies and wandering hands of drunk boys. Your heels clicked on the black marble floors of the common room, drowned out by the music.

Your mind was far disconnected from your body, and you felt like something small amongst a crowd that suffocated you. Adrenaline kicked in, and you freed yourself from the teenagers, escaping hungry grasps.

Every step you took filled you with dread. It decayed your insides, poisoning your heart and your mind and weighing your feet down. Your ears were ringing, and you could barely hear the deafening music, or your friends calling for you to rejoin them on a couch nearby. Your lungs couldn’t properly draw in oxygen, and the edges of your mind began to prickle with delirium.

You were running on adrenaline.

You practically tripped over your own feet as you tore down the hall, halting as your fingers came into contact with a wooden door. Your fist closed around an iron handle, but doubt made you hesitate.

You had an instant where you considered turning around, going back to the party and forgetting about all of this. Ignoring the whispers of gossip, and silencing the rumors, pretending like this never happened. You could leave this doorway, leave and stay blissfully unaware before it was too late.

No.

Leaders don’t doubt themselves.

You’d made it this far, there was no sense to let your bravery falter now. You gripped the handle, twisting and throwing the door open. The action happened in an instant, and all at once, you couldn’t take it back.

Reality came crashing down on you.

Every fear you had suddenly became tangible. It was very real, unfolding in front of you, and you were powerless to stop it. Every ounce of doubt vanished from your mind, replaced with horrible certainty.

Your body froze. Ice shot down your spine, and spread through your skin in gripping tendrils. The adrenaline halted suddenly, and your heart stopped racing. Your mind snapped back to consciousness. Sharp, unforgiving sanity burst through you in one horrible, violent instant.

Draco Malfoy, your boyfriend of four years, was buried deep inside the cunt of Pansy Parkinson, your roommate and best friend.

Sick, deranged laughter rose in your throat and escaped from your lips.

The party still echoed under your feet, reminding you there were so many people close by. You wondered if they knew. You decided it didn’t matter, the only people who you would’ve believed it from were in front of you, fornicating in infidelity.

“Y/N!” Your name left Pansy in a scream.

At least she seemed ashamed, hurrying to pull the sheets— your sheets— to cover her breasts. Draco didn’t even have the decency to end his rough thrusts from behind, even as one of her hands went out to swat him away.

Cold, silver eyes glared back at you.

“Are you going to leave, or do you care to stay and watch?” Draco’s tone was impatient, dismissive.

His words tasted metallic, like blood and poison.

“Do you feel guilty?”

Draco mistook your tone for amusement. You didn’t cry, and you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe. From his point of view, you just watched the situation unfold in eerie calmness.

Most girls would have screamed. Most girls would have sobbed and begged for validation, or run away at the very least.

You were not most girls. Draco knew you were something far worse.

You were dangerous and severe.

Your eyes glittered with something dark and terrible. It sent a shudder through him, and powerful doubt ripped all of the air from his lungs.

Do you feel guilty?

“No. I grew bored with you, I don’t regret this, Pansy’s a good fuck.” Draco’s voice masked his insecurity, but you saw directly through the cracking shell, staring directly at the truth.

Your gaze locked with Pansy’s. Her fear twisted in your own stomach, igniting your nerves like electricity. Draco’s movements faltered.

A terrible stillness settled over the room. For a moment, none of you moved, the ice inside of you spreading over everything.

In slytherin, you do what is necessary.

The voice echoed in the back of your mind, grounding you in your crumbling reality.

Do what is necessary.

A malicious idea crossed your mind with a depraved smile.

“I can be redeemed of boredom,” you said simply.

Your tone unnerved Draco. The stillness and certainty was suffocating. Every lingering doubt was annihilated, along with your trust and love for Draco and Pansy.

You didn’t expect the grief to feel so relieving.

The light caught the sparkles of your dress, glittering as the thin fabric moved on your body as you walked out the door. It slammed shut behind you, sealing the room shut with its sin inside.

“What have we done?” Pansy asked Draco.

Weak girls doubted themselves.

You were many things, but never weak. Your feet carried you back to the party. It was still in full, excited swing, as if horrible sins weren’t being committed, as if trust wasn’t being desecrated.

The depraved smile remained on your face.

You were freed from doubt, they were freed from lies. It was always easier to know who your enemies were, even when they were your lovers and your friends.

The cruelty glittering in your eyes, and the sick smile on your face confirmed to everyone that you knew. Blaise wouldn’t meet your gaze. He knew, and he’d led you to them.

“How long, Zabini?”

“A couple of months.” He shifted uneasily.

Your laughter struck fear in his heart. You were quickly coming to terms with your lover’s infidelity, and it ignited something inside of you.

Wrath tasted sweet on your lips, and you breathed it into your lungs like oxygen.

Blaise expected you to be hysterical, but this was far more calculated, far more dangerous.

There was one person left who was loyal to you, and he was leaning against a marble pillar, a glass of fire whiskey at his lips.

“Theo,” you approached the brunette, greeted with a smile and a sultry gaze.

“I need you.”

“Anything,” he answered with absolute sincerity.

“Draco is unfaithful, and I want to get revenge.”

Theo’s fingers slipped in yours, and he brought your hand to his lips. His dark gaze glittered with deviance, catching you as you tumbled.

“You’ve come to the right person.”

Draco was sickened. You attended classes with him, and took your usual seat beside him to eat in the great hall. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed. Blaise, and the few others who knew about his side habit, were uneasy with your reaction. All except for Theo.

Ever since you’d began dating Draco four years ago, he’d been terribly jealous of Theo. Whenever the brunette was around, Draco was openly affectionate with you, growing possessive and territorial. He didn’t imagine it would ever be used against him, but you could turn anything into a weapon.

You weren’t one to be underestimated.

The boys talked about an upcoming quidditch match, the Slytherin team being led by Malfoy. Theo calmly discussed strategy with him, as if he hadn’t sided with you in the betrayal. Draco was too trusting of the brunette.

Your hand slid up Draco’s back, your fingers threading in the hair at the base of his neck. He forced himself not to flinch, keeping his voice even. A hand dropped to your thigh, and you sipped the drink in front of you. Your nails were sharp on Draco’s neck, a veiled threat that made his skin crawl.

“I want to show you just how interesting I can be,” you whispered in his ear.

His silver gaze moved to you, watching as you stood and swung your legs over the bench. You cradled his hand in your face, giving him a cold smile before pressing a bitter kiss to his mouth.

You left the great hall, descending into Draco’s prefect dorm. Eyes trailed after you as you moved through the common room with grace. Pansy watched you disappear into his bedroom, pain spreading through her chest.

You changed into black lace and silk, leaning on the armoire as he entered. The heavy door shut behind him, and his hands went to his tie, tearing it from his body. His silver gaze admired your body, and he began to wonder why he’d chosen Pansy over you, realizing his mistake.

“What is this?” Draco dared to ask.

“Boredom can be cured, Malfoy. You may be willing to toss me aside, but you know that I’m a better match for you. I’m the pureblood your parents pray ends up in your bed.” You pointed out, and he swallowed, unable to argue.

“Let me seduce you,” your hands smoothed over the clean white shirt that adorned his fair chest.

He watched you touch him, your fingers undoing buttons and pushing the fabric off of his shoulders. He slipped out of the rest of his clothes, pulling on the tie of your robe.

You let him skim his filthy hand down your body, malice simmering inside of you. Your silk joined his clothes on the floor, and you led him to the bed, pushing him down on his back. You straddled his waist, settling down on his lap and lightly running your nails up his chest.

You tasted poison on your tongue, and a vicious heat spread through your limbs.

Your hands slid up his arms, trapping his wrists at the headboard. Draco didn’t struggle as silk ties wrapped around his wrists, and you secured his hands to the wrought iron bars. Your sweet smile turned insidious, and icy fear paralyzed Draco.

“Y/N-”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” You snapped, sliding off of his body like a viper. Your feet were on either side of his hips as you stood over the terrified blonde, and you considered kicking him in the ribs. He opened his mouth, but it fell shut with your dangerous look.

You stepped off of the bed, and Draco thought you were going to leave him naked, tied to the bed. It didn’t matter, Pansy would be around in a few hours to free him.

Draco’s fear heightened when you opened the door without dressing, his stomach dropping when another person entered the dorm.

“Theo?” he croaked.

His body jolted as the door slammed shut, the lock clicking in place and securing your privacy. Your venomous laughter rattled Draco’s spine, and you walked to the edge of the bed, standing before him.

“Y/N, you need to let me go. Theo, untie me!” The panic in his voice fueled the fire of your wrath, and you smirked at how pathetic he looked.

“I don’t need to do anything! I owe you nothing, you weak little bitch. Beg me.”

He stared at you in disbelief, and Theo watched you. The room was buzzing with intense ferocity, your rage pouring off of you in waves and drowning everything in its path.

You were going to get revenge, and it was going to be sweet.

Draco’s will was strong, but it was no match for yours. Theo slid his tie off of his neck, but Draco was too focused on you to notice. You were entirely focused on emasculating Draco, determined to make him feel as pathetic and weak as you saw him.

“Please untie me. I’ll do anything, I’ll break it off with Pansy, I’ll do whatever you want, but just untie me, please.” The desperation was clear in his voice, fear edging in his tone.

“No,” you answered coldly, and he jerked his wrists, the silk digging into his flawless skin. A frightened sigh escaped him, and he turned to Theo desperately. Theo tossed his own clothing aside, and Draco shook his head.

“No, no, Y/N, not with Theo!” Draco protested.

You turned away from the blonde and pulled Theo against you, his tongue invading your mouth in a rough, forceful kiss. Draco yanked on the bonds, jealous fury burning through him as he watched Theo’s hands explore your body, grabbing and touching you in places that only he did.

“You are going to lay there, helpless, weak, and pathetic. You are going to watch your best friend fuck me, and you’re going to stay tied up and powerless.”

A noise rose in Draco’s throat, and your hands gripped the sheets at the end of the mattress, bending over and facing Draco. The remaining lace was ripped from your body, and you shot Draco a sadistic smile.

“You’re going to pay for this.”

“Open your mouth again, and I’ll force it shut.”

You stood up as Theo slammed you from behind, gripping the posts of the bed. Your fingers gripped the etched iron, and memories of having your wrists restrained on experimental nights came flooding back.

Exhilarated screams left your lips, Theo filling in you in perfect ways, in ways Draco never could.

“He’s so much better than you. You’ve been holding me back, Draco!”

Silver eyes were wet, delighting your cruelty. Your sharp laughter burned his ears, and his skin was raw from struggling. He watched the scene in front of him, knowing exactly how you felt, but Draco was weak enough to drown in it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” he choked out as he watched Theo circle your clit in expert, practiced touches. Draco shook his head, watching his best friend, his teammate, and his partner come deep inside of you. He watched it drip down your thighs, your ecstatic, pornographic screams pounding in his head, echoing off of the walls as your own orgasm shattered through you. Theo shared your vengeful pleasure as he watched Draco fall apart.

Your limbs were trembling as you stood up all the way, leaning back into Theo. You stared at Draco, furthering his shame and misery, twisting like a sickness in your chest. The poison of revenge was addicting, pumping through your veins like blood and filling your heart.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so-”

You lunged at the boy, your fingers closing around his throat, kneeling on top of him like he was your prey.

“Draco, I will never forgive you!” you hissed venomously.

Theo was gone, leaving the two of you alone, leaving no witness to whatever crime of passion you were about to commit. The thirst for blood was thick on your tongue, the hunger for revenge making you violent.

Draco screamed as your wand burned letters into his skin in thick, black ink. You drew back, admiring your initials that were now branded onto the inside of his hip, left by your hatred. His chest heaved as he watched you in horror, making your lips curve into a sadistic smile.

“I own you.”

You left him restrained, knowing someone would find him eventually as the door closed behind you. Your heart was racing, all of your nerves buzzing from the adrenaline.

Leaders don’t doubt themselves. Do what is necessary.

Pansy walked past, and you grabbed her black hair, yanking her back against the wall, pinning her to the cold stone with your own body.

“If you ever touch what is mine again, I’ll rip every pretty hair from your head, and I will have you begging for death!” You seethed, yanking hard on her locks, tearing a terrorized whimper from her.

“Got it?”

“Yes!”

You threw her down and spun on your heel, leaving her shaking. Her scream echoed through the common room when she found Draco, and a sinful smirk adorned your face.

You found you had a taste for wrath, and a talent for violence.

#earl grey draco #draco #draco malfoy #draco angst #draco smut #draco x reader #draco x reader smut #draco x reader angst #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy x reader angst #draco malfoy x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x reader smut #theo nott x reader angst #golden era #hogwarts #female reader

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genshin-no-simp · 3 years

Text

Scenario: When They Say/Do Something They Don't Mean

All the stories I post here are from my Wattpad account: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Genshin_no_Simp

This contains the following characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli and Xiao.

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💙💙Kaeya💙💙

It had been a very stressful week for Kaeya. He was grumpy and agitated. It was only a matter of time before he snapped at you.

"Babe, you really need to take a break." You frowned quite upset that your lover was still frantically writing at his desk.

You had even trying to convince him to take a break, even if it was for fives minutes, just to get him to look at anything put the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. That's when he slammed his hands against the table while standing up as he glared at you.

"Dammit (Y/N). I don't have time for your shit right now. I have need to get this done, so leave me alone and. Go. Home." He sat back down and continued to write.

You're eyes welled with tears as you silently left his office in fear of angering him further.

Kaeya sat as his desk and only when you were gone did he realized what he had done, that was the first time he had ever raised his voice to you. He just had so much to do, and everyone kept giving him more work to do, but it wasn't fair to take it out on you.

Despite all the work stacked on his desk, you were more important than anything written on these sheets. So he made his way out of the Favonius HQ and down to Flora, luckily enough he had gotten to her just before she closed for the night.

Kaeya knocked gently on the bedroom, as warning before opening the door. The sight broke him. You were laying face first on the bed crying. With long strides, he was at your side in an instant. Placing the flowers on the bed side table he sat next you. You were aware of his presence so the hand that touch you didn't catch you off guard.

"Baby, I'm sorry," his chest was tight. You could hear how sorry he was.

"Baby come here, please," he gently held your arm but he made no move to pull you up though, he wanted to make sure you wanted to. Which you did, so you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

Kaeya instantly pulled you close to his chest.

"I'm sorry baby, I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He kissed you hair over and over again.

"It's okay Kaeya," you hugged him back. And it really was, you realized you shouldn't have pestered him so much to take a break, you knew how busy he was so you should've left him but you didn't want him to over work himself.

"It's not." He shook his head.

"It is." You looked up at him.

"It's not." He met your gaze.

"It is." You put your finger to his lips to prevent him from replying, "I'm only upset because I wasn't expecting you to raise your voice at me, you didn't hurt my feelings."

Kaeya's eye flickered with uncertainty. But you only smiled at him and kissed him. Feeling your lips against his made him melt. His tense muscles relaxing as he kissed you back. Pulling back you smiled again.

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby." Kaeya smiled pulling you down with him onto the bed, where he spent the rest of his time showering you in endless kisses.

❤️❤️Diluc❤️❤️

It's not everyday the Diluc Ragnvindr falls in love and has a cute girl all to himself. So when finally has you he didn't realize just how jealous he could get.

"Diluc," you called to him hesitantly. He was in a mood, you knew. But you didn't know why, "sweetheart what's the matter?" Your concern for him only seemed to agitate him more.

He turned to you rather sharply, slamming his hand onto the wall behind you. Startled, your body went stiff as you looked up at him all wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

"What's the matter?" He repeated almost mockingly, you felt your heart twinge, "you, you think just because you're pretty you can play with people's feelings?"

Your mouth opened to say something but no words came out, you were still trying to process what Diluc meant.

"Why so silent? Do I not make you happy enough? You have to go seek out someone else?" Slowly but surely Diluc's harsh facade was wearing off, and slowly you were putting the pieces together.

"You saw me with my brother earlier didn't you?" You emphasized the word brother.

"Your-" Diluc stared at you and he continued to stare at you. You stared back, never once faltering.

Slowly he backed away from you, casting his gaze to the floor. He had just indirectly accused you of being with someone else. And he had frightened you. He felt awful. He was ashamed of himself.

"Luc," he reached out for him, but he was so disappointed in himself he recoiled from you. He didn't deserve to be touched by you.

You rolled your eyes, you knew he was regretting his actions and honestly you found it kinda cute.

"Luc," you said again, this time cupping both his cheeks giving him little choice but to look at you. Where you could see the regret spilling from his eyes, "it was an honest mistake."

Diluc grabbed both hand wrists holding them closer to him, "it doesn't excuse my behaviour." He was really beating himself up over it.

You sighed deeply with a smile, "if you wanna make it up to me, I have one request."

Diluc's eyes lit up and he nodded quickly, "anything, anything at all and its yours," you couldn't help but giggle at his eager response.

"I want a kiss." You smiled up at him again. He stared at you, dumbfounded. He wasn't expecting something so...simple. But at the same time, you rarely asked him for things, it was usually him who spoiled you without asking you what you wanted, not that you minded of course.

"That's...it?" He couldn't help but ask.

You gave a small hum and closed your eyes while puckering your lips for your kiss. Diluc couldn't help but chuckle.

"Less laughing, more kissing," you cooed while making kissing noises to emphasize what you wanted.

Diluc shook his head, pulling your hands away from his face, he put them to your side before cupping the back of your neck with one hand and pulling you close to his body by your waist with the other. Leaning down he closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours, in a short, sweet kiss. Your body melded against his as your arms wrapped around him, instinctively kissing back once feeling his lips upon yours.

Diluc pulled back just enough to peer lovingly into your face, the look of adoration on his face was enough to make you forget about the world. Content you leaned up rubbing your nose against his and whispering softly.

"I love you Diluc."

"And I love you, my angel." His arms wrapped securely around your waist held you tight as he pressed you back against the wall, gentler this time. He gave you no room for escape as he pressed searing hot kisses against your neck.

💛💛Zhongli 💛💛

It had been a long time since Zhongli has had a partner. Especially one as beautiful, well put together and feisty as yourself. You were everything to him, there was nothing he cherished more than you, so when he saw how your family had treated you, degraded you and belittled you, he was furious. With them for having the audacity to treat you that way, and at you for not standing up for yourself like you usually did.

Zhongli had pinned you between his arms right up against the wall. His piercing gold eyes also held a helping hand at keeping you in place. You had never seen him like this before, so bent out of shape.

"Why did you just sit there and let them talk to you like that?" His deep voice, even deeper as it was laced heavily with annoyance. It genuinely made you flinch, he has never used this tone of voice with you. You didn't even know he was capable of it, you always found his voice to be so soothing. Many times you had even fallen asleep while he was recounting old tales because of how comforting it was. But this was not one of those times.

"W-what do you mean?" You stuttered like a fool. You were unsure of where this unexpected rage had come from. This only made him furrow his brows deeper, a low growl emanating from his throat. You did you best to hold back the whimper that threatened to slip out.

"Your parents," he was having a hard time trying to control himself but he managed to restrain himself, "why did you let them talk to you like that?" Till now Zhongli had been slightly hunched over as he stared down at you but now he stood up straight, his tall frame dwarfed yours.

That's when it all made sense, he wasn't pissed at you because you had done something wrong but at the fact that you didn't stand up for yourself. Suddenly he seemed a lot less frightening that he initially did but he was still a bit intimidating, especially when you had to crane your neck up just to stare up at him.

"Because I'm used to it," your voice came out a lot meeker than usual, and you dropped your gaze to the ground, "it wouldn't matter if I did stand up for myself anyway," you continued, "they would just laugh in my face. It's always been easier to just keep quiet and take it..."

You had never told this to him before, this news was new to him, it made sense why you refused to take shit from other people and why you kept quiet against your parents. Zhongli's eyes softened and he removed his hands from the wall and onto your shoulders. Before you could stop yourself you jumped at his touch. Zhongli's eyes flickered with horror and swiftly removed his hands from you.

Were you scared of him?

Zhongli swore to himself, he showed an ugly side of himself, and he had frightened you so bad that you were afraid he was going to hurt you.

You could see the hurt in his eyes, not because of you, you knew, but at himself. Zhongli didn't know how to handle the situation now presented to him. So you stepped up and made the first move to recovery. You jumped wrapping your arms loosely around his neck, your small frame threatening to slip from him, Zhongli instantly held you up and close to his body.

"I wasn't scared," you stated firmly, "I was caught off gaurd. So don't go beating yourself up okay? I could never be scared of someone as sweet as you, after all you were only like that because you were worried about me, right?" You gave a small tilt of your head with a smile.

"I-" his words were caught in his throat, why were you being so understanding, you should be angry at him or crying or running away from him, telling him to go away, yet instead, you clung to him for dear life, or perhaps that was him, holding you so close, afraid you would run away from him if he let go.

Zhongli buried his face into your shoulder, "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to get so upset. Just when I saw them treating you like that, it made me so angry. You are a hard working, passionate woman," he was looking at you now, "so thoughtful and understanding, so full of life and love, and you deserve nothing but praise and respect," Zhongli had set you on your feet, taking ahold of your hand he brought it to his lips, giving a chaste kiss to your knuckles, between that notion and the praise he was dishing out your face was dusted a rosy pink, "you deserve all the love in the world."

But you already had all the love you could ever want especially with the way he looked at you. You never knew someone could hold so much love in their eyes until this moment, as you gazed into Zhongli's gold orbs, you only hoped that you conveyed the same amount of passion for him in your own eyes.

"I don't need the world's love as long as you by my side because you are my world." It was cheesy yes, but you meant every word. Zhongli gave the biggest smile yet as he swooped you into his strong arms, and pressing his lips against yours. Cupping his cheek you returned his kiss.

You continued to kiss for what felt like eternity all the while whispering soft "I love yous" against each others lips.

💚💚Xiao💚💚

All of this was new to him. These feelings of adoration and affection for someone. The want and need to be near someone. Having someone to call his own, to have someone be there for him when he came home and vice versa. He's never had anybody like you before in his life, someone he cared so deeply for he was afraid of dying and leaving you alone. So when you came back to the inn, hurt, it set off an uncontrollable rage or was it worry? Honestly he had no idea what he was feeling but he certainly wasn't happy.

He slammed his fist against the wall so hard it cracked, a few specs of rubble falling to the ground. It surprised you causing you to jump holding a hand to your chest.

"Xiao what's the matter?" You were sure he was going to be happy to see you but maybe you've out stayed your welcome.

"Why didn't you call for me?" He growled deeply removing his fist from the wall and walking over to you.

You flinched slightly walking backwards until you were against the wall. Even though the Adeptus was quite small in height you still had to look up at him. And even if he was small it didn't excuse the fact that he was still quite terrifying. You were afraid to speak in fear and angering him further.

"Well?" He asked again, this time glaring down at you. He was going to force you to answer him.

"B-because I didn't need to," it was true, you were perfectly fine on your own, sure you got a little hurt but it was nothing to cry over, and it certainly wasn't worth all the fuss he was creating. But you just couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

"You got hurt (Y/N)! You should have called for me." His heart was racing and his fists shook. You were starting to get really upset with him now.

"I'm not weak Xiao!" Your voice slightly raised in agitation. Xiao's eyes flickered darkly for a moment.

"No, you are weak!" He hadn't meant it in a literal sense but due to lack of context you took it the wrong way, any form of fight you had in you diminished as your eyes teared up.

Xiao was caught off guard, seeing you begin to cry made his chest hurt. And it was his fault which made him feel even worse. He wasn't used to all this but he figured he better start leaning...and quick, if he wanted to prevent you from leaving him.

You turned to leave but he caught your hand.

"Let go of me," you tried to wrench yourself free.

"No, listen to me," regret was evident in his voice, but you only shook your head.

"So you can call me weak again?" You sniffled.

Xiao's voice caught in his throat, he wanted to explain to you, but he was afraid of saying something wrong again. But now was the time to try.

"(Y/N)," his voice was a lot softer compared to before, "I didn't mean you're weak in a sense that you can't look after yourself, I meant that you are a human, and your body is fragile," his grip on your hand loosened, "a simple cold is enough to kill you, never mind being attacked and sustaining injuries...I guess what I'm trying to say is, that I'm worried about you." He wasn't looking at you when you turned at him.

You could see his ears have turned red, it must've taken a lot for him to admit that. Hearing his explanation made you feel at ease, his previous temperament like a distant memory.

"You know Xiao, you could've just said so," you teased slipping your hand into his, intertwining your fingers.

Xiao looked up at you, surprised by the sudden touch but he didn't recoil from you, instead it drew him closer. So close you could feel his breath against your lips. Now it was your turn to blush. You stared at each other for some time before his gaze dropped to your lips for only a brief moment before looking into your eyes again. You smiled gently at his implication.

"If you want to kiss me, just do it," you whispered softly before placing your lips against his in a soft meaningful kiss.

It was your first kiss with the Adeptus and it was everything you could have ever wanted and Xiao felt the same. When you pulled away you smiled with a blush but it didn't last long before Xiao's lips were against yours again, a bit harder this time, you let out a soft hum. He continued to kiss you leaving you breathless.

"X-Xiao?" You panted softly.

"You said if I wanted to kiss you, I should just do it, so I am." This was all he said before he was upon you again. Giving you endless kisses.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #zhongli #xiao #x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios

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dracowars · 3 years

Note

Hi could you write something where the reader is on the place of Hermione on the manor during DH1. And Narcissa sees her memories and finds out she's with Draco and how happy he looks with her. Happy ending please🥺 also Hufflepuff reader

daffodil | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 2,3k

summary: where narcissa is y/n's last hope

a/n: rip helen mccrory <3

warnings: angst, torture, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to suppress your tears, you have to helplessly watch as your close friends Harry, Ron and Hermione are pushed away from the large, dark room to the basement, leaving you alone. Not actually alone, but in the sense of everyone who remains in this room now, will not help you out of here. It all began so well and was going smoothly.

Your plan was almost perfect, it should not have failed. Nevertheless, you were caught by Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor, the mansion of the Malfoy family, which ironically also includes your boyfriend. Draco, of course, did not know about your plan, otherwise he might have accidentally given something away. You wanted to tell him, but you could not bring yourself to do it. You did not want to disappoint your friends and risk your plan. Anyway, it seems like Draco does not know what his own family is up to either.

“So, you are the pathetic little Hufflepuff girl who sniffed around in my dungeon in Gringotts and stole, huh?”, Bellatrix directs her sharp words at you after she made sure that her sister safely locked your friends in the cellar. “Speak!”

“I do not know what you are talking about”, you lie to her, your whole body visibly shaking in fear. You have heard numerous stories about Bellatrix Lestrange, and one was worse than the other. She is merciless and will not stop until she gets what she wants and that is exactly why you are not quite sure yourself why you suddenly have the audacity to lie directly into her face in this moment when it is obvious that you definitely know what she is talking about.

“Do not lie to me, you cheeky brat! How did you get my sword!?”, she furiously screams at you all of a sudden, anger in her eyes, making you shrink back a little. With her crazy sparkling eyes, she takes another step towards you until you retreated so far back against the wall that you have no way out, no way to escape her.

Before you can answer, however, you already feel the tip of her wand against your throat and you have to swallow hard as she drills it deeper, an insane smile on her pale lips.

“Well, if you do not want to speak, I will gladly force you to speak”, she giggles wickedly and before you know it, she harshly grabs you by the arm and forces you onto the cold wooden floor. You can intercept your fall with your hands in the last moment. Scared, you turn around to face her, your gaze falling on Narcissa, who watches the scene unfold in front of her without a word, just like her husband.

Nobody in Draco’s family knows about your relationship and so far, it has always been better that way. Even so, you do not come around wondering what if they did know about it right now. What if his mother knew about your undying love for each other? What if you would tell her right here, right now that you were the one who was always on her son’s side when he felt bad, that you cheered him up in his darkest times and supported him when no one else did. You were with him after he was declared a Death Eater and you were there when he decided against murdering your headmaster. You were there for him all this time when his family was not.

You can’t continue your thoughts when Bellatrix suddenly kicks you in the abdomen and you softly groan in pain, curling up on the floor.

“I will not ask you a second time: Where did you get the Gryffindor sword from?”, Bellatrix interrogates you again and harshly turns you on your back with her foot, using all her strength to prevent you from moving. Slowly she makes it hard for you to breathe and you desperately try to free yourself from her grip – without any success.

Since you still have not answered her question, she ends up pointing her wand at you threateningly again and before you even have the chance to admit anything, she puts an unforgivable curse on you.

“Crucio!”

Your body writhes in pain on the floor, screams escaping your mouth louder and stronger every second. You try to defy the curse, but you are too weak and can’t defend yourself, having to suffer the worst pain you have ever felt in your entire life.

And despite all of this, your thoughts go back to Draco. His smiling face appears in your mind and his gentle laughter echoes in your ears.

“D-Draco”, you gasp in pain and suddenly all of the pain disappears at once. Bellatrix has now lowered her wand and looks at you in confusion. But not only does she, but Draco’s parents as well.

“I did not ask about Draco!”, Bellatrix freaks out again in a matter of seconds and finally crawls over your weakened body, your faces so close to each other that you can feel her breath on your skin. “You have played enough games.”

At her words, you feel this unendurable pain again, but this time it feels different. It does not come from within you, you can still feel your body as a whole, and it feels a lot more realistic until you suddenly feel her rip open your arm with a sharp dagger inch by inch. Screeching in pain, you try to throw her off you, but she presses you onto the hard ground with all of her might and strength.

Exhausted, your head falls to one side, your body twitching at every painful touch on your arm. Tears flow down your already damp cheeks and you look at Draco’s mother through your blurry vision. She has averted her gaze from the terrible scenario.

“D-Draco.. I-“, you stutter out, the feeling of weightlessness from being on the verge of passing out obfuscating your words and thoughts. Still, you know that there is only one last chance that may get you out of here alive, even though you may regret it in the end.

“I love him”, you cry out in a heartbreaking voice which Bellatrix does not seem to mind at all. Narcissa, however, lifts her head in an instant and looks directly at you, her eyes full of sadness as far as you can tell by your restricted vision. Your eyelids are getting heavier by the second and just when you are about to pass out completely, you notice how Narcissa finally comes closer and thus puts an abrupt end to your unbearable pain.

“Legilmens”, her soft broken voice whispers and the world around you begins to spin, to transform.

And suddenly you are peacefully lying in a bed that is all too familiar to you, your gaze focused on the door that is opening at this very moment, revealing none other than Draco himself. You feel strange, weird, as if you have experienced all of this before. As soon as Draco enters the room with his head hanging low, you uncontrollably run into his arms. You speak to him with calming words until everything starts blurring in front of your eyes and you find yourself in a different place.

You are in a flooded bathroom, a slim and fragile figure trembling from crying from the bitter sobs at the sink in front of you.

“Draco”, you hear your own voice softly speak up and he jolts, turning around to you, his eyes red and swollen, his face completely dejected. Not another second goes by and you lie in his arms again, comforting him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. It hurts so much”, Draco’s echoing sobs ring in your ear as he rolls up the sleeve of his white shirt, revealing the Dark Mark. “Please help me.”

However, you are not able to help him because you are forcibly torn away from the moment again and land in a large, wide meadow of flowers. Warmth created by the burning sunlight flows through you and the exclamation of your name from the distance brings a happy smile to your face immediately. Not far from you Draco runs up the hill towards you, a smile as bright and wide as yours decorating his beautiful facial features. Quickly, you get up from the soft picnic blanket that you have placed in the meadow and greet him with a firm hug.

The next moment, you lie on the blanket, hugging and looking up at the clear starry sky after the sun has already set hours ago. Draco repeatedly points to different shining stars which form a constellation, telling you everything he learned in astronomy, while you can’t take your eyes off him.

When he finally notices your gaze, he turns his head towards you so that the tips of your nose are almost touching. Neither of you say a word and you just stare into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“I love you”, your voice carefully confesses and your heart hammers against your chest.

“I love you too”, Draco replies, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

The safe and happy feeling suddenly gets teared away from you and you find yourself back in the dark room of the Malfoy Manor. Shocked and not so sure about what has just happened, you straighten up. Only now do you realize that Bellatrix had let go of you in the meantime and is now looking down at you with widened eyes, standing closely behind her sister.

It hits you like a train when you realize that Narcissa has just used Legilimency on you, which caused you to be subjected to a rapid succession of passing memory scenes and in some cases even made you briefly lose consciousness. Thus, not only your expressed thoughts or perceptible feelings were revealed to her, but also your hidden feelings and experiences as well as your most secret desires.

An extremely uncomfortable silence arises in the room while all eyes are on you and only you. Lucius and Bellatrix seem rather angry at something, with Narcissa looking at you with pity and sadness.

“Take my hand”, Narcissa breaks the silence first, but because of her words you only look at her in confusion when she extends her hand to you. Looking back and forth between her outstretched hand and her face, for some inexplicable reason, you realize that she actually wants to help you.

As soon as your hands touch, everything around you blurs again and the next thing you know everything goes black. You feel pressure on your body from all directions and you find it difficult to breathe until everything around you takes on its usual color again, allowing you to breathe in deeply.

You feel the ground beneath your feet and notice that you are standing upright. And you notice that your and Narcissa’s hand are still connected. Startled, you pull your hand out of her grasp and look around.

“Where did you take me?!”, you angrily ask her, the place where you are now not seeming familiar to you and the fact that she just kidnapped you after invading your privacy makes you feel even more confused.

“To safety”, Narcissa replies shortly and it seems she wants to add something when her gaze suddenly slides past you, to something hat has now apparently appeared behind you.

“Mum?”

“Draco?”, you breathe out in relief when you hear his voice behind you and immediately turn around to him. Tears well up in your eyes and you run into Draco’s arms at lightning speed, but Draco seems to be quite perplexed. After all, he does not know what happened.

“W-What?”, he tries to form meaningful words while still not returning your hug, standing there rigid and tense.

“She knows about us”, you whisper in his ear while sobbing and his posture relaxes from one second to the other and he wraps his arms tightly around your trembling body without hesitation, his face disappearing in the crook of your neck.

“What happened?”, Draco asks you worried as he gently loosens the hug and takes your face between in his hands, not understanding why you are crying. With a shake of your head, you indicate that you do not want to talk about it and he understands, giving you the space you need, before his gaze falls back on his mother, who is watching you two silently.

“I am sorry”, Narcissa finally clears her throat, causing you to look at her as well. Tears have now also formed in her eyes, but her lips are adorned by a gentle smile as she looks at you. “It should never have come to this.”

“Why did you do that? Why did you help me?”, you want to know and step closer to her, your hand intertwined with Draco’s.

“I was inside of your head and saw all of your memories”, she explains and while she nervously plays with the long black sleeves of her beautiful dress, she looks up from the ground again. “I have seen how happy you make my son. I could not let them harm you or it would break him. You- You are too important to Draco.”

You are speechless at her words and Draco seems pretty stunned by what his mother said as well. Before either of you can comment on it though, she speaks up again.

“I will make sure that your friends get free”, she adds, letting her inner conflict reflect in her soft voice. “Stay with Draco. You are safe here until I have clarified everything. I will come back.”

“Mum-“

“I promise you that everything will be fine”, she gently smile at him, giving both of you a loving hug, before she disapparates into thin air and probably reappears where she has just saved your life moments ago.

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