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#like. I CRIED. i was swimming in my own tears
maybegays-blog · 2 days
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Can u write sad Lady d angst i want to cry
Here you go 🙏🙏 Also I canT write angst to save my fucking life, sorry. I tried my best tho😢😢
Echoes Of Sacrifice
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Warnings: Gore(?) Character death, murder, depressed Alcina.
As Ethan Winters ascended the winding staircase of Castle Dimitrescu that led to a secluded tower, his heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination.
He knew that somewhere within these ancient walls lay the key to ending the reign of the vampiric matriarch, The Dagger Of Death's Flowers. And he would stop at nothing to see his mission through to its bitter end.
Unbeknownst to Ethan, you trailed silently behind him, your own heart heavy with a sense of foreboding. Every step brought you closer to a confrontation that could shatter the fragile peace you had fought so hard to maintain. But you couldn't stand idly by and watch as Ethan plunged a dagger into your lady’s heart. Not when you knew the depth of her despair, the agony of her loss.
You pressed on, ascending the steps as the chill of the winter wind swept past you.
Finally, the staircase came to an end, opening into a secluded tower bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. In the center of the room, a large coffin containing a decaying skeleton. Nestled within the skeleton’s arms, lay the dagger—the weapon capable of ending Alcina Dimitrescu's immortal reign.
But before Ethan could make his move, you stepped forward, your voice trembling with resolve. "Ethan, please," you pleaded, your words a desperate plea for reason. "This isn't the way. We can find another way to end this."
But Ethan's eyes burned with determination as he reached for the dagger, his fingers closing around its hilt with a fierce intensity. "I can't let her hurt anyone else," he growled, his voice laced with a steely resolve.
With a surge of adrenaline, you lunged forward, your hands grappling with Ethan's in a desperate struggle for control. The dagger glinted ominously in the moonlight as the two of you fought for possession, each movement a flurry of desperation and determination.
But despite your best efforts, Ethan's strength proved too great, and with a swift motion, he wrenched the dagger free from your grasp. Time seemed to stand still as the blade gleamed in the moonlight, its deadly edge poised to strike.
As Ethan gripped the dagger tightly in his hand, his eyes blazed with determination as. "You're standing in the way, of me and my daughter!" he spat, his voice thick with anger and resolve.
However, you refused to back down, your own voice trembling with emotion as you pleaded with him.
"Ethan, please," you begged once more, the desperation evident in your tone.
Ethan's gaze hardened as he raised the dagger, the moonlight casting eerie shadows across his face. "I can't take any risks," he growled, his grip tightening on the weapon. "Not when my daughter's life is on the line."
"No!" you cried out, your voice a desperate plea as you lunged forward once more, your hands outstretched in a futile attempt to stop him. But it was too late.
With a sickening thud, the dagger found its mark, sinking deep into your chest with a cruel finality. Pain lanced through your body like a thousand fiery needles as you stumbled backwards, your vision swimming with darkness before you sunk to the ground with a loud cry.
Ethan didn't get any time to react as your fiancé stormed into the tower and saw you sitting on the floor, your form going limp, a primal roar of anguish tore from her throat. The man-thing quickly backed off as your lady rushed to your side, she dropped to her knees. She cradled you in her arms, tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," you managed weakly, your voice cracking with pain.
"No, my dear," Alcina whispered, her voice trembling with sorrow. "I should be the one apologizing. I have failed to protect you, my daughters, everything." Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving trails of mascara in their wake.
You reached out with trembling fingers, desperate to brush away the tears cascading down your lady's cheeks, her sorrow etched into every line of her face.
"Don't cry, m-m'lady," you whispered, your voice barely a tremulous murmur, weighted with your own heartache.
Your touch was a fleeting caress against her skin, a feeble attempt to soothe the anguish that threatened to consume her. But in that moment, as you gazed into her tear-filled eyes, you knew that your words were not enough to ease the pain that gnawed at her soul.
As she felt your breathing grow faint, panic surged through her.
"No, Y/n!" she cried out, desperation lacing her voice. "Stay with me. We can be together, marry, have children! Please."
Her voice rose, desperation lacing every syllable, as she pleaded with you to hear her final words, her heart breaking with each passing moment as your life slipped away from her grasp.
“I-“
As you attempted to respond to your lady's desperate pleas as best you could, a painful, bloody cough erupted from your lips, and you quickly covered your mouth with your elbow, earning more tears from your lady as she watched helplessly.
You yearned desperately for the chance to live another day, if only to be by her side for a little longer.
"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, 'Cina," you murmured, your voice fading away.
Your eyelids grew heavy, but you fought desperately against the urge to succumb to sleep, clinging to consciousness for her sake.
“I-I can’t…” You weakly held her hand.
But despite your best efforts, you could no longer hold on.
"I l-love you," you breathed out one last time, the words barely a whisper as darkness enveloped you.
As you went fully limp in her arms, your lady’s heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the tower as she held you close, her grip tightening as if trying to hold onto you forever.
Meanwhile, he stood by, a silent witness to the tragedy he had brought upon you all.
But as her teary eyes shifted to the figure of Ethan Winters, her eyes narrowed with a fierce resolve. She gently set your down before, with a single, fluid motion, she rose to her feet, her elegant form now radiating with a deadly grace.
"You will pay for this," she growled, her voice low and menacing as she advanced towards Ethan. Alcina's rage burned like a wildfire, driving her onwards with a relentless fury.
With a primal snarl, she lunged forward, her nails elongating into razor-sharp claws as she seized Ethan by the throat. Her other gloved hand wrapped around his neck as the scent of blood filled the air. She tightened her grip, her eyes blazing with a feral intensity.
"You thought you could defeat me?" she hissed, her voice dripping with contempt. "You thought you could take everything from me and walk away unscathed?"
Ethan, fueled by desperation and the relentless drive to protect his daughter, fought back with a ferocity born of desperation. With a surge of strength, he desperately tried to stab your fiancé with the dagger.
Yet, as the dagger pierced her flesh, it proved futile. Her skin swiftly regenerated, just as it had before, within mere seconds.
The last Dimitrescu's eyes widened in shock, her expression shifting into a mask of fury, a silent condemnation of the consequences wrought by Ethan's actions.
In that instant, a surge of realization swept through Ethan: the poison on the dagger had rubbed off onto you when he struck you.
Barely giving him time to process the gravity of his actions, with a swift motion, she tore open Ethan's chest, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh with a sickening squelch.
As Ethan's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, he gasped out, "Stop... please..."
She paid no heed to his pleas, her grip unyielding as she ripped his still-beating heart from his chest with a savage snarl. Blood sprayed across the tower, painting the walls in a macabre tapestry of crimson as Ethan's lifeless form crumpled to the ground.
With a triumphant light in her eyes, Alcina held Ethan's heart aloft, her eyes ablaze with a fierce satisfaction. "No one," she declared, her voice echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap, "no one will ever take my beloved from me again."
And as the echoes of her words faded into the silence, she turned her gaze to you, her heart heavy with sorrow.
He had already taken you, he had taken your life.
For though you were gone, your memory would live on within her, a beacon of light in a world consumed by darkness. Your lady could only sit beside your lifeless body, her heart breaking as she clung to your side, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh, my sweet girl, why did you do this?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow and disbelief.
The days that followed were a bleak procession of solitude and sorrow for your fiancé. The once-grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu echoed with emptiness, each footstep a haunting reminder of the absence that weighed heavily on her heart.
Alcina retreated into the depths of her chambers, the shadows embracing her like old friends as she mourned the loss of you and her beloved daughters. The air grew heavy with the weight of her grief, each breath a struggle against the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume her as the maids watched their mistress slowly lose herself.
The grandeur of her surroundings felt hollow and meaningless, a cruel mockery of the life that had once thrived within these walls. The portraits of her daughters gazed down at her with empty eyes, their faces frozen in eternal beauty—a painful reminder of all that had been lost.
But it was the silence that was the most unbearable—the absence of your laughter, your voice, your presence. Each moment stretched out into eternity, each heartbeat a relentless march towards an uncertain future without you by her side.
In the depths of her despair, the dragoness found herself grappling with emotions she had long buried beneath a facade of strength and stoicism. She questioned her worth as a mother, as a ruler, as a woman burdened with the weight of centuries of loneliness and longing.
With each passing day, she vowed to honor your memory, to carry you with her always.
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osachiyo · 22 days
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'TRYNA GET YOUR BABY MAMA FULL OF THAT DICK !
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𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — jing yuan, blade, luocha x fem!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — n/sfw content, cheating, squirting, dumbification, neglect (from the husband), overstimulation, toxic relationships, dirty talk, petnames, reader is married, cucking, cowgirl, possessiveness (blade), vouyerism, luocha is your family doctor, etc • i never thought id write something like this but here we are lol anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & not proofread
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
"bounce on me just like that, baby," jing yuan groaned, palming the fat of your ass as you rode him on your husband's couch. "s'big — you're so big, ji," you bit your lip, trying your best to suppress any moans — not wanting your neighbours to suspect anything.
"yeah? even bigger than him?" a sleazy grin adorned jing yuan's lips, your back arched so sinfully as he thrusted up into you. "ngh —!" you threw your head back, clawing his broad shoulders with your pretty nails, that your husband paid for you to get done.
"answer me, sweet girl," he whispered, fondling your bouncing tits before pulling and pinching at your hardened nipples. "d-don't tease!" you swatted at his hand, which only made him pinch harder.
" 'm not teasing, so serious right now baby," his droopy eyes were glinting with mischief — he knew he looked good. you gasped when his hand reached down to flick and rub at your clit, licking his lips at the way you clenched down on his cock.
"gonna cum, pretty?" he captured your lips in a heated kiss before you could even answer him — as if he already knew what you were gonna say. you could practically feel your eyes rolling from the pleasure behind your closed lids, pussy gushing all over his thighs and abdomen — drenching his cock in your juices.
" yesyesyes — 's so big, so much bigger than him —!" you babbled into the messy kiss, back arching even more and pressing your tits against his own chest —
"that's what i thought."
𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
muffled grunts of complaint escaped your husband's gagged mouth, hard cock straining against the rough fabric of his slacks.
"enjoying the view, cheating piece of shit?" blade had you spread eagle on you and your soon-to-be ex husband's shared bed — with you chanting his name like a prayer everytime his cock hit that one spot with unbelievable precision.
"mmph!" your husband growled — veins popping out from his forehead as he tried his best not to hump the air. fuck, you looked borderline delirious getting split open by your co-workers cock; pupils dilated with lust — practically having hearts swimming in your eyes for blade.
"look at 'em, baby — look at how fuckin' hard the bastard is," he forcibly turned your head over to your husband and the man almost didn't recognise you — tongue lolling out with each heavy thrust from blade, sweat dripping down your sinful body.
you didn't even pay attention to the tied-down man — all too focused on the way blade's thick cock rearranged your guts. "see how she turns into a dumb little slut for my dick?" blade spat, cockiness dripping from his words — sharp hipbones digging into the soft skin of your thighs with each slam of his hips.
"who does this pussy belong to?" blade turned your head back to face him, licking the tears that rolled down your heated cheeks. "y-you! all yours — it belongs to you!" you babbled mindlessly, causing a devilish smile to appear on blade's lips —
"oh yeah? and what's my name?"
"bladeee—! oh fu-fuck, bla-de!" you cried out before spraying your juices all over him — some of it even coating his abs.
"good fuckin' girl."
𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 ⊹ ࣪ ˖
"are you sure you wanna do this?" luocha whispered against your lips, his minty breath filling your senses. "please," you begged, rolling your hips on his lap to show your want — no, need for the blonde man.
it's not like your husband was a good man either — always out drinking and partying, while you stayed at home. alone. he brushed you off everytime you asked about the lipstick stains on his collar — saying you were being dramatic, you were sick of it. could he really blame you for wanting luocha? the young, handsome family doctor — who was also a gentleman at heart.
"i've got you," luocha's smooth, velvety voice cut off your train of thought, a gloved hand tilting your chin up before pressing his lips to yours. his other hand found purchase at your hip, before snaking up to wrap itself around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
you couldn't help but moan into the kiss — he was certainly good at this, better than your husband, at least. luocha was elegant but warm — the complete opposite of your husband, who was rough and neglectful. the softness of the kiss had you melting in his touch.
a gasp left your lips when luocha flipped you over, your back now turned to him while you laid on your tummy. "luocha.." you all but whined, pushing your ass back against his rigid cock, earning a soft groan from him. he pushed your sundress up, bunching the thin fabric at your waist — "no panties?" he mused, landing a playful slap on your plush ass. gloved hands found your cunt before you could answer, rubbing your bare folds.
an amused chuckle left the man once he felt how damp you were, "already this wet? hmm.. the mister has been neglecting you quite a bit, hasn't he? worry not, i will take great care of you."
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©osachiyo— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!
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includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi
i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3
DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
Eren
ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol
buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.
10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”
you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”
loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.
TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.
refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.
favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”
lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.
really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”
accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.
aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.
wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.
Jean
most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.
freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”
jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.
it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”
plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad
wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.
the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.
the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.
“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”
definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.
always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake
SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip
jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest
wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.
talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you
Reiner
another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.
buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.
accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.
cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.
definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.
all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.
always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.
can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.
takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him
DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.
always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter
coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)
never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.
the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.
holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”
Levi
levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.
when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”
super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.
totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.
“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”
levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.
100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.
has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.
“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”
vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”
he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.
learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand
you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.
he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 
wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.
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amoreva · 2 months
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Hiii can u do a Luke or Clarisse (either one) x child of Dionysus! Reader and like they sneak off to make out or SMT AND DIONYSUS catches them AND GIVES THEM THE TALK and it’s funny and embarrassing for them
(Thank you if you do make this!!)
THE TALK
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—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of dionysus!reader
summary: your father gives you the talk, after he catches luke and you sneaking around
warnings: innuendo?, making out, dionysus dramatics
a/n: let’s pretend ep 8 of pjo didn’t happen. ngl brainrotting to luke and swan lake op 20 act 1
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
Dionysus paced around in front of the two of you. His Hawaiian shirt catching wind. Luke was trying (and failing) to hide the grin. It was quite amusing to see a God worry about something like this.
Dionysus was muttering something to himself. You caught wind of your father talking about “Chiron” and “the talk” and he was so confused on where to start.
You grimaced just knowing this wouldn’t end well. “Dad, please…” You helplessly plead not to even start this conversation.
“No, no! I must.” Dionysus spoke and put his hands up in discontent. He leaned against his little desk in the Big House.
“Do you know how betrayed I feel!?”
Luke smiled as he helped you down the steps of Cabin 12. A stupid lovey-dovey grin on both of your faces as your interlaced hands and ran across camp. It was as if you were normal mortal teenagers rather than half-bloods.
You trek through the forest used for the Capture the Flag, running along the river which lead to the lake. Every so often, Luke stopped to steal a kiss from you. You two had not seen each other all day because of counselor duties.
“Luke—!” You giggled after he stole yet another kiss.
“You’ve deprived me of affection, love.” Luke joked and held your hands. He walked backwards into a clearing. You reached the lake. It was usually used for canoeing, swimming and Capture the Flag (as well as romantic rendezvous). “How was I supposed to sleep without seeing you?”
Luke took of the jacket he was wearing so you could sit without getting sand on your pajamas. The waves of the lake seeped into the sand by your feet. Luke and you sharing portions of his jacket so you both won’t get dirty.
“I did retire to my cabin without giving you a good night kiss.” You joked your hand came to rest on Luke’s cheek.
“What a terrible girlfriend.” Luke hummed and lips in to kiss your lips. You breathed through your nose. Fireworks exploded in your stomach as you and Luke kissed, pushing each back ever so slightly, but not letting go.
Your other hand went to cup his face fully. Sweet nothings heard here and there as he pulled back for air just to dive back in.
You can’t help but lose yourself in him.
It’s always him.
You can’t help it. When he looks like that, treats you like this and has a reputation of that— you can’ help it.
“Luke…”
“Mm…”
“Hi!” Mr. D shined a flashlight on both of you. His hand on his hip. Luke and you break apart and block the shiny light from your eyes. “So…you both get bathroom duty for…3 months—”
Before Mr. D could even dish out punishment, he gasps. He gasps so dramatically you think he sucked all the oxygen from the world.
“I know.” Your dad stated firmly. His flare for dramatics makes you want to roll your eyes. “I know that is not my daughter kissing a boy.”
“Betrayed?”
You exclaim. Your face contorting into disbelief and surprise. You leg stopped bouncing as you stare at your father.
“Yes. Betrayed that my own—” Dionysus feigns his tears. A hand over his heart as if he is going to a parental crisis. “My own daughter!” His voice shaky.
“With all due respect Mr. D—” Luke spoke up.
“I’m not talking to you!” Dionysus exclaimed and crouched to his knees in front of you.
He turns on the fake waterworks. “You’re growing up! Which means…you’ll be discovering things that make you—”
Luke and you cringe. “Dad!” You cried out, disgusted with what he was trying to imply. Mr. D’s act drops. He stood up and leaned on his table. “Look, you two are young and Chiron was telling me to man up and have like a sex talk—”
“Dad!” You stood up, grabbing Luke’s hand. You storm out of there, listening to your father yell phrases like “be safe when you’re with him!” or “That’s 4–no 5 months on bathroom duty!”
You face was as red as the strawberries growing in the field. Luke laughed quietly at your embarrassment, though he himself was embarrassed.
“Hey. You heard your father. Be safe with me.” Luke teased and grabbed your waist. He turned you around to face him.
“Luke—please, that was already embarrassing enough.” You spoke flustered.
“So…” Luke dragged out with a small smile. He leaned in towards your face, lips centimeter away from yours. “Next time. We won’t get caught. Can’t suffer another talk again, can we?”
Luke pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
1K notes · View notes
mushy6902 · 6 months
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Longggggg LONGGGGG list of headcannons about the BG3 Companions
In no particular order
Astarion is the one everyone goes to when they need something patched because he's just so fucking good at making it look like it used to
Shadowheart cannot read Common as well as she speaks it and often needs a minute to figure out what it says (dyslexic perhaps)
Wyll is really into body positivity, even before becoming a devil
Karlach has ADHD (this is barely a headcannon)
Gale also has ADHD
Halsin makes bear noises in his sleep and everybody thinks its adorable
Lae'zel does all the butchering of meat when the gang hunts for food because Gale is physically not strong enough and Karlach doesn't know how
When Karlach happy stims it sets off Gale's happy stims
Astarion knows how to swim in theory but has he done it since he was a child? No. Not because he's scared or anything though.
Wyll tries to teach Karlach like, actual dancemoves. Ends up learning her freestyle method instead. They tear up the dancefloor at the ball like nobody's business. People actually have to make room for fear they get poked by a rogue horn.
Lae'zel has a very sweet singing voice and will sing the pets lullabies when she thinks they're alone.
Gale is not a monsterfucker in practice but he's absolutely thought about it.
Halsin is a monsterfucker in practice.
Shadowheart knows Thieves Cant and she and Astarion frequently have long exchanges of elaborate hand symbols across battlefields. Y'know, for the bit.
Astarion is a cat person but they make him sneeze. He insisted on going back to get His Majesty after the adventure because ITS A NO-SNEEZY CAT, TAV
Tara and His Majesty enemies to lovers 100k slowburn
Gale buys Sorcerous Sundries after its last wizard owner's skull is mysteriously crushed
Everyone fights over who gets to keep Scratch after the adventure ends. The compromise is everyone moves in together so they can ALL keep him.
Volo is forbidden from the Communal Home and sort of becomes a Ned Flanders type neighbor
Elminster also drops by occasionally just to snack on the good cheese. Gale has swatted him with a broom more than once like "KNOCK first, good Gods! It's three in the morning!"
Karlach has a million plushies in her room. People keep giving her more.
One time Karlach gave a plushy to Shadowheart and she cried.
Lae'zel bites things affectionately.
Shadowheart's the only one who bothers to pack for a trip before the day of the trip and it INFURIATES her that nobody else does.
Halsin doesn't live in the communal home, he lives in the garden outside. He has his own lil bear cave. He feels more at peace there.
Sometimes he'll come inside sopping wet like "I think it's raining out." and he thinks it's the funniest joke ever
(he's right it is the funniest joke ever)
Astarion tries to get his ears pierced but he ends up only getting one because he was SUCH a BABY about it he got too squeamish to get the other one done.
He claims it's a fashion statement. Everyone pretends to believe him.
Except Gale, Gale GENUINELY believes him, because he also has just 1 ear pierced and he thinks he gave Astarion the idea.
Astarion almost admits the truth to him just to get Gale to quit rubbing it in his face.
The gang has matching surcoats (these things) they wear when they go out doing adventuring work as a team.
Astarion thinks it's obnoxious despite it also having been his fucking idea ("I wasn't fucking SERIOUS when I suggested it- ugh i guess I'll wear it- i mean red is my color. So I've been told, at least."
Lae'zel sees colors differently than the others. Nobody's sure if she's fucking with them when she holds up two identically-colored objects and says they are significantly different colors.
Karlach always walks on Wyll's right side so she can protect him from attacks in his blind spot
This backfires because Wyll turns to look at her when they talk and walk and 99% of the time he ends up walking into something
Astarion will platonically snuggle anyone and everyone in the group. He doesn't even need an excuse. Oop, sitting down? Lap. Oop, standing and talking to someone? Hug from behind. He's gonna be holding you.
This is only with people who have given him express permission though, so no strangers.
Karlach and Wyll both growl when upset
Lae'zel lets out a weird little trill/purr when pleased or proud of herself
Shadowheart is weirdly good at decorating. She's in charge of all the public spaces in the communal home.
Halsin is the designated spider-catcher of the house.
If Halsin is unavailable, it's Wyll- but he kills them instead of putting them outside.
Karlach doesn't need oven mitts to take hot stuff out of the oven and does so as a flex every time she gets the chance.
Gale has like 47 aprons for various occasions Ok i've run out but I will absolutely add more when I come up with them
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sunniskyies · 2 months
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𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 || 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐚 𝐑𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
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𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: "Clarisse x reader where readers emotions control weather? If that makes sense" 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Zeus sees Percy being claimed by Poseidon as an act of war, and decides to retaliate by claiming a child of his own 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: show!Clarisse La Rue x Zeus!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Smitten Clarisse ofc (>ᴗ•) ! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k 𝐀/𝐍: Thank you so much for your request, I adore this concept !! I tried my best to replicate the reader’s emotions in the weather through the story, not just after she’s claimed. I hope I did it justice !! Enjoy <3
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Terrified tears are streaming down your face and your heart is pounding in your chest. The rain is pelting against the windows now, and thunderclaps seem to shake the earth.
"Dad? I don't understand, what is that thing?" You choke, staring at the pair of red headlights out the back window, censored by the sheen of rain on the glass.
Except it isn't a set of headlights. It's a pair of eyes. Red, glowing, blood-thirsty eyes.
"D/N, are we almost there?" Your mother cries, her knuckles pale as she grasps the fabric of her pants.
"Yes," he grunts, foot hard down on the accelerator. "Y/N, do you see that hill ahead? With the pine tree?"
You squint into the darkness, just about making out the landmark your father is referring to, lit up by the high beams of the car.
"Yes, Dad. But I don't underst—"
"Listen, you must get to that tree no matter what. Don't look back, don't stop. Get past that tree and you'll be okay."
A sob escapes your lips, a crackle of lightning lighting up the sky. Behind the car, the light illuminates the beast chasing the car. A truck-sized mastiff, dripping saliva from a lolling mouth adorned with yellowing teeth. A scream peals from your throat as darkness swallows it once more.
"What is that?" You wail. Before either of your adoptive parents can respond, something large slams into the back of the car.
You're sent spinning, but the Hellhound doesn't let you hit the side of the road. It immediately stops you with a paw, tearing a hole in your car.
The beast's jaws snap eagerly at you, and you scramble backwards. In the front seat, your parents are reduced to slumped, motionless silhouettes. Terrified, you fumble for the door handle behind you, falling backwards onto the concrete and feeling your skin scrape.
You struggle to your feet, jumping away as the dog's fangs tear the car into a pile of coleslaw.
"Stop!" You shriek. Another lightning bolt reveals the landscape around you, and you see the hill towering above you, the pine tree adorning it rocking around in the hurricane-force winds.
Your father's words echo in your mind as your legs pump desperately up the slick, wet grass. They'll be okay, they got out, you think when the Hellhound turns away from the shredded metal, scarlet gaze now trained on you.
You're still nowhere near the top, and now the monster is practically upon you. It runs towards you like an excited puppy, gangly legs crossing meters of distance in seconds.
You're just about to squeeze your eyelids shut and say your final prayers when an explosion of light scorches the ground in front of you, knocking you hard backwards.
You feel your head collide with something, and then it's all dark.
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A faint buzz is whining in your ears.
Where am I?
Your eyelids feel glued down when you try to pry them open, and when you manage it you're met with a kaleidoscope of white sheets and plain walls.
Your vision is swimming, but you make out the figure of a girl standing in the doorway. She has dark, coily hair and an unreadable expression on her face.
"Where am I?" You croak, your throat dry and scratchy, probably from all the screaming.
But the girl doesn't respond, just turns and leaves.
Exhausted from the effort, blackness envelopes you again.
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"And this here is Cabin 4, Demeter," the boy with black hair says, gesturing to the building.
You sign inwardly, body still tired and aching. In the last few hours you have woken up, been told your parents are dead, gotten told everything you thought about the world is wrong and now you are being given a very in-depth tour of 'Camp Half-Blood'.
The sky is overcast, and you wearily listen as the boy goes on.
"And here is Cabin 5, Ares—" Luke is cut off by an olive-skinned girl storming out of the cabin's door, practically colliding with you.
"Fuck— watch where you're going, idiot!" She growls. When she looks up at you, a flicker of something swims through her eyes, but is replaced promptly by a glower.
"Newbie," she snarls. Behind her, a group of kids seep out of the cabin after her. At her words, they don menacing scowls and jeer.
"She looks awful!" One laughs.
"Push her over, Clarisse!" Another crows.
Clarisse cocks an eyebrow, looking you up and down pointedly. "You guys think I should teach this runt her place?" She asks. She's responded with cheers.
You step back hesitantly. Luke sighs.
"Clarisse, I'm just doing my job. Do you have to be difficult?" He says exasperatedly.
"That's okay, Castellan. You can go now, I'll look after the newbie," she grins, stepping forward to wrap her fists in your collar. She drops you, letting your exhausted body hit the earth with a thud. "Comfy down there, Darling?"
The all-too-fresh memory of falling out of the car escaping the Hellhound resurfaces, and angry tears spring to your eyes.
Your lip curls as you look up at 'Clarisse', her smug smile towering over you.
"Listen," you spit, standing up. "I've just been attacked by an actual Hellhound. It killed my parents. I'm exhausted. I'm just trying to get through this tour so I can get to whatever stiff sleeping bag they give me and go to sleep."
The overcast sky has darkened, heavy black clouds groaning with thunder threaten to release rain.
"I don't need some tough girl who thinks she owns this—apparently—magical fucking circus to tell me 'my place.' My place is back home with my parents. That's where I belong. But they're gone, so shove off back to kindergarten and learn some manners!"
Your voice cracked at some parts, and you know tears are threatening to fall from your eyes. But the dark look on your face gets the message across.
Clarisse's eyes glimmer with that look again, a tiny thing only you can see. But for everyone else, they just see her shrug.
"Whatever, Darling. Just watch where the hell you're going, m'kay," she states, spinning on her heel and sauntering off with her band of Ares kids scurrying behind her.
You sigh, letting your tense shoulders sag. The rain clouds give a shudder and release a light drizzle. You wipe a small tear from one eye.
This is definitely the hardest day of your life.
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Your feet glide over the pine needle soundlessly, a hefty Xiphos clutched in your hands.
It's been a week since your arrival at Camp Half-Blood. A week full of training, lessons and camp activities. You have found yourself rather handy with a sword, and you're even warming up to the kid in Hermes' cabin.
Ahead of you, Clarisse La Rue and her band of sheeple are wandering back towards their flag. You're stealthily following them, the chocolate-eyed girl none the wiser.
The sky is bright and blue, flocks of cheerful clouds frolicking around on the sweet summer winds. You feel a thrill of joy pass through you. It's a beautiful day, you've finally settled in, and you are about to beat that bully La Rue.
Well, you would have if, in your excitement, you hadn't carelessly stepped on a twig.
Gods, didn't that only happen in the movies? You wince as the pack of Ares kids whip around, spears and swords brandished.
"You!" Clarisse says when she sees you. "Trying to find our flag, are you?"
She smirks, stalking forward. You step back slightly, heart pounding. Yes, you are quite good with a sword now, but you are no match for Clarisse. Even you can admit that.
She leans in close. "You should know better," she says, her voice honeyed.
A couple of her teammates move forward, teeth gleaming and swords hungry for skin. Clarisse's eyes flash, and she holds up a hand.
"No, go on to the flag. I'll deal with her," she orders. Some of the kids look doubtful, so Clarisse gives you a shove for emphasis. "I'll deal with her."
Reluctantly, the kids peter out. Turning back to you, Clarisse holds your gaze for a moment, before shaking her head with a scoff. But there isn't much venom in it.
"Just stay out of it, newbie," she grunts, swinging her spear leisurely over one shoulder and turning to leave.
You frown in disbelief. "That's it?"
Clarisse pauses, looking at you over one shoulder. "What, do you want a fight, Darling? Because we both know that would just end up with you in the infirmary."
You tilt your head, observing the brown-haired girl. "No, not at all. You're just... not what I thought."
Clarisse scoffs again, but there is even less malice in it. You think you must be imagining the warm glow around her cheekbones.
"Just, stay out of it," she mutters, turning and jogging off into the trees.
You stare after her, cheek tingling where her breath had brushed it.
Of course, you didn't stay out of it. You had followed after her, the girl too flustered to notice you slipping in and sneaking off with the flag.
After your win, the whole camp accepted you fully. Ares still shoots you glares, but no one has dared push you over again.
And yet, no God or Goddess has claimed you. Many campers are after a week or two, but it has been months and still not a sign.
"She's too smart for an Ares," someone guesses.
"But she's too tough for Athena," another had argued.
"What about Apollo? She's alright with a bow."
"Definitely not, have you heard her sing in the shower block?" Someone laughs.
"I mean, that would explain why Apollo hasn't claimed her!"
Every day begins to feel worse than the last, every time you prove yourself worthy you are rewarded with nothing. Even the weather seems to agree, the sky gradually getting gloomier and wetter. Campers have been grumbling about this being the 'bleakest summer ever.'
The only spark in your life, unbelievably, is a certain fiery girl from Cabin 5.
You've been entertaining yourself by trying to worm your way into the stony warrior's heart, your suspicions about her proving correct with every blush and scoff you are gifted with when you manage to sneak through a crack.
The clouds seem to part, letting a beam of rare sunlight through, whenever you're with her. When you're without her, you find your hands itching to touch her, a playful shove or a flick.
A few shoves and flicks later, you find yourself standing in the middle of the training Arena, clad in sweaty bronze armor being asked out by a flushed Clarisse La Rue.
A warm trickle of sunlight sinks into the space between you, both panting from the private spar you were in moments before. You can see every freckle, every dark eyelash on her face.
"Go out with you?" You breathe, lowering your sword from where it was raised. "Like, with you?"
Clarisse scoffs —her nervous habit, you've found— and removes her helmet, resting it on her hip. "Yes, with me, Darling. But if you're already set on Castellan, lift that sword again and we can forget about this—"
"Fuck Castellan, of course I'll go out with you!" You cry, letting your weapon clatter to the ground and wrapping your metallic arms around her.
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You don't know what the other campers meant when they called it the 'bleakest summer ever.' All you know now is sunshine and blue-sky days, days filled with summery winds and strawberry picking and secret dates with your tough girl. You hardly ever think about your unclaimed status anymore, too in love to care. You can't even remember before Clarisse.
She's awfully protective of you, always standing up to anyone who tries to push you around. You did wish she wouldn't pick on the newbies, though.
"Clari, he's only 12! Give him a break," you protest. You're sprawled out in Clarisse's sheets as she sits on the end of the bed polishing her spear for Capture the Flag that afternoon.
"Nope. I hate liars," she states simply.
You roll your eyes. Always so stubborn. "Clarisse, he's barely put his foot in the door. Let the kid adjust."
Clarisse shakes her head. "No! He lied about killing the minotaur, he soaked me and my friends—" you snort "—and now he's walking around here like he's better than me! I ought to show that runt—"
You've sat up and pressed a kiss to her lips. Clarisse falters, flustered from the touch. For a girl who isn't afraid of anything, you've found her to be very timid when it comes to affection.
"No one's better than you, Clari," you murmur. Her face sets ablaze. "But, you don't have to prove that, we already know it."
Clarisse hums thoughtfully, leading into your touch for a moment. Then she springs up abruptly, leaving your lips cold. "Sorry, no can do. Reputation and all that. See you in battle, Darling!"
You flop back down onto the bed with a groan as she eagerly sprints off. That's right, you're on the opposite side.
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"You really think he's the one, Annabeth?" You whisper to the patch of air beside you. You're crouched behind a bush watching the 12-year-old arch nemesis of your girlfriend dozing on a log after a very strenuous afternoon of dancing and playing with geckos.
"Yes," the patch of air replies. You sigh, shifting uncomfortably. You can't believe you let Annabeth rope you into this.
"Can we please go help Luke and Chris? I'm sure Percy can look after himself," you mutter. "And I'm bored!"
"Well, you won't be bored for much longer," invisible Annabeth says.
You turn back to Percy to see none other than your girlfriend stalking towards him brandishing her red-hot spear. Of course, you groan internally. She does look really good in those camo pants, though.
When the Ares pack start chasing the boy, you're about to step out of your hiding spot, but Annabeth's arm stops you.
"Not yet," she orders.
You may not be as formidable as Clarisse, but you are far from puny. You let her protect you because that's Clarisse's love language. But you can handle yourself perfectly well, one stormy glare of yours can send a camper fleeing for the hills. On top of that, you hate being ordered around, especially from a child.
But you listen, because you're reluctant to be as stubborn as your girlfriend. So you stay expertly hidden as you and Annabeth follow the pack down to the lake. But a flash of anger shoots through you when you see the young boy knocked to the floor.
"Sorry, Annabeth," you grunt, stepping out onto the gravel. "Clarisse! Leave him alone!"
Clarisse doesn't stop her tussle, just glancing over at you. "Stay out of it, Darling."
"You always say that," you growl, picking off one of the Ares kids and combatting him with your sword, and you quickly have him disarmed and on the ground. Suddenly, your head shoots up when you hear a bloodcurdling scream.
"Clari!" You cry, stomach clenching when you see the severed spear in her hands. Her gift from her father.
"Clari, stop. He's not worth it," you plead, running up to her when she hefts the scrawny boy into the air. Your arms wrap around her waist, and you guide a fuming Clarisse back towards the cabins. Percy will be okay, Annabeth will look after him.
Well. You thought she would, but you turn towards a 'splash' to see that the girl has pushed Percy into the lake.
"What the hell, Annabeth!" You begin to call over, but the words dry up when you see his bloody wounds knitting themselves over. Your jaw drops open when you realize what that means moments before the trident appears above the boy's head.
Poseidon, Poseidon, the Big Three, Poseidon, you hear kids all around you whispering. The poor boy looks shell-shocked.
"Fuck that kid," Clarisse says disbelievingly. You rub your hand on her back, once again leading her to the cabins.
"It's okay, Clari. He's just going to get slaughtered by Hades' monsters now, you know they're on the brink of war. You don't have to trouble yourself any—"
You falter when Clarisse stops walking, a look of horror in her eyes. You frown and look around confused when the rest of the Blue Team start staring at you too.
"What?" You ask, following the gaping camper's gaze to the space above your head.
The wind is knocked from your body. Above your head, an icy-white lightning bolt marks you. Daughter of Zeus.
Your insides churn—you're not an idiot, you know what this means. Zeus has seen Percy being claimed as an act of war and decides to retaliate by finally acknowledging his daughter.
The stares, the whispers, the complications, it all stirs in your gut like a hurricane. In the sky, a storm cloud has begun brewing and crackles with lightning.
"Stop staring!" You cry at your teammates, a bright lightning bolt lighting up the sky. Tears well in your eyes, and rain begins to pelt down on the gravelly shore.
When the campers don't move, you shoot them one of your deadly glares. "Scram!" You growl, the following grumble of thunder making them scatter. Only Clarisse stays.
"Don't you understand?" You sob to her, rain mixing with the tears on your cheeks. "He doesn't care about me. He hasn't cared about me for months! I'm just a bargaining chip to him, a plaything to through at his stupid brother!"
You turn to storm off, and the sky growls at you. "Is this me, too? Am I doing this?" You shout, gesturing manically at the sky. Clarisse crosses over to you.
"Screw Hades, screw Poseidon, screw the lot of them!" Clarisse hisses, grabbing your hands to stop you from leaving. "Zeus doesn't deserve you, Darling. Don't let him use you, don't give him the satisfaction."
You sniff, the rain softening to a shower. "I don't want to be like this," you croak, your foreheads touching as you look at your intertwined hands. Tiny sparks are erupting at the contact.
"I don't know, Sparky. It's pretty cool," Clarisse grins.
You laugh, the tension easing from your body. The dark clouds in the sky above blow away. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Why should I let them control me? I'll just explode them if they try."
Clarisse grins, brushing a wet strand of hair from your face and kissing you on the side of your mouth. "That's the spirit, Sparky."
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( 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 !! )
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© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which a shameless ex-lover makes your bad day worse and jungkook can’t help but to go wherever you are.
> fluff, dashes of angst / wc: 4k
> warnings: mention of blood bc oc gets scratched :( + is ready to throw hands at jk’s ex and then cries lol, taehyung cameo and mentions of yeontan :P + a line of jk reminds me of the orpheus drabble <3
note: last one for a while as i take a rest from writing and process jimin’s album <3 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! it goes a long way :]
“jungkook, you’ve been in there for an hour! answer your phone!”
you click your tongue in annoyance, bouncing your thighs up and down as you fiddle with the controller and collect your kills with reckless tenacity. the ringing of the third phone call he’s receiving in the past ten minutes is overpowering the volume of the game, which you turned all the way down just enough so that you can faintly yet clearly hear it. well, right now, you can’t anymore. again.
“baby, you’re home?!” jungkook yells in surprise, and you spare him a glance.
half of his naked torso is peeking out of the bathroom door, and he looks like a maltese puppy who heedlessly jumped into a swimming pool, hair still dripping wet and pure excitement painted all over his face.
“who’s calling anyway? you can answer it for me!“
“can’t. i’m playing call of duty.”
“you’re what?!” he exclaims, but his voice enters your ear then escapes from the other as you remain deeply absorbed in the game. he disappears for a minute before emerging from the bathroom, half-naked with a striped white and khaki towel wrapped around his waist down to his knees.
you’re situated on the floor with your back leaning on the couch. he stands beside you with his hands on his waist, watching the television screen in sheer curiosity, which then morphs into astonishment. “wow, you’re actually playing it… i haven’t seen you touch your controller in months. but why are you sudden- yah! what is this? how are you doing so good?!”
the phone lying on the center table lights up once more. the incessant noise is seriously getting into your nerves and you’ve had enough of it, gritting your teeth as you snap. “i’m begging you. answer it. or i might break something.”
the irritation embedded in your voice makes him jut out his bottom lip sadly. more than that, your facial expression and body language evidently scream that you’re feeling on edge. you didn’t even bother to let him know that you’ve come home, and he’s uncertain if you nearly muted the volume because you don’t want to listen to the ear-shattering sounds of ammunition being fired or you don’t want him to hear them.
he picks up the phone per your request, eyebrows knitting in confusion when he fails to recognize the number flashing on the screen.
“it’s an unregistered number. i don’t know who- oopsie-” he scrunches his nose, chuckling because he accidentally ended the call when he muted the device. it vibrates with a new message from the same person not too long after.
“it’s my ex?” he blinks with a blank expression on his face. he intently reads the content of the text, tugging at the silver ring piercing the corner of his lower lip. “uhhh- she’s… asking me to put in a good word for her… because she applied to be an in-house choreographer at- at the company.”
on the other hand, you feel like a bucket of ice water was dunked over your head at the mention of your boyfriend’s ex-lover. your vigorous focus on the game wavers, but luckily, you’re already so close to finishing, and you still maintain half a mind to end the game in your own terms. the word ‘victory’ flashes on the giant screen, and you almost break down into tears because god knows you needed a fucking win today.
jungkook gasps in amazement, whipping out the camera app to capture a photo of your achievement. “did you just fucking win solo versus squads?”
the thing is… you’re not the biggest fan of these games. sure, you play occasionally (only using his accounts because you like how he already has most items unlocked and you can freely play around… you like to pretend that you’ve never been scolded for making him rank down before), but you prefer the relaxing types with adorable and colorful graphics. and just like he said, you haven’t touched your controller in months, which must be the reason why he’s pleasantly surprised. you won’t be shocked if you get bombarded by his gamer friends to play with them tomorrow, by the looks of your boyfriend proudly typing away at his keyboard while smiling from ear-to-ear.
“don’t move on too fast.” you breathe out a deep sigh before standing on your feet. “which ex? that bitch you broke up with because she kept on picking stupid fights with your friends? and now she wants to work with them?”
the combination of your harsh intonation and the recollection of dreadful memories make him wince. that relationship didn’t end on good terms, so this is confusing to him as well. it was a person he wholeheartedly liked, but they barely lasted six months because the way she treated those who are near and dear to him, unkind and discorteous, eventually turned him off and made him nothing but angry. she tried to convince him that she could change, but it was his decision that could no longer be changed.
does it even matter? he didn’t dwell on it too long, anyway. because then, he met you.
“yes,” he shortly answers, flipping his phone so the screen is facing you.
your brain chooses to not register any of the other characters used in the text except for those at the end: the flirty ‘Thanks babe! I miss u so much. See u around soon. Let’s catch up’ and winking emoji blowing a red heart next to it. you release yet another sigh, this time shaky and frustrated, and you gently move his hand aside to get the phone out of your sight. a headache is beginning to blossom at your temples, and you truly do not have the energy to deal with this bullshit right now.
“you must know how i feel about this, right?”
“i’m not sure-”
“like if she calls you ‘babe’ infront of my face i won’t hold back and i will claw her eyes ou-“
“okay, okay, baby, i got it!” he chuckles, taking a hold of your arms to pull you closer to him. he plants a sweet kiss to your lips, hoping that would aid in putting your mind at ease. “i won’t let her call me that again, hmm? or do anything that will make either of us uncomfortable for that matter.”
“good. i trust you. do whatever you want.” you speak softly, giving his rosy cheek light pats. he always looks a dash more attractive when fresh from the shower, so entrancingly hypnotic when bare-faced that it makes you want to fall on your knees and worship the stardust making up his existence.
unfortunately, your mind is too clouded and restless and you can’t stay to admire him some more. you withdraw from his hold, the cold drops of water from his hair sliding down to your forearm and you wipe them away on his towel.
“i’m going out for a bit. i need to buy something at the convenience store.”
you don’t wait for him to answer. you head straight to the bedroom to collect your essentials.
“wait for me. i’ll go with you!”
you return wearing a long purple jacket over your blue t-shirt and white sweatpants, also carrying your phone, wallet and pepper spray.
“i’ll be fine alone. i got this.” you wave the small bottle infront of him before stuffing it in the pocket of your sweatpants.
the front door rings as it opens and shuts, and jungkook despises the weight sitting on top of his chest— heavier and heavier with your absence. he still wanted to insist on tagging along, worried because it’s already late at night, but he gave up when he sensed that you really need to be left alone.
“shit, let me take care of this first.” he tilts his head to the side, and then the other, cracking his neck before he scrolls through his contact list to make an important call.
the soles of your sneakers scratch the rough asphalt as you lazily drag yourself to the convenience store. you’re having one of those kind of bad days- you woke up this morning mad at the world for a reason you couldn’t decipher, and it only got worse after you left the house for work. you brushed against someone while chasing the bus and the zipper of their bag scratched your arm that it bled uncontrollably. the nearest restaurant to your workplace was closed and you had to walk an extra kilometer. you didn’t have the time to text jungkook and complain about the shitty day you’ve been having. and you had to suffer the bus ride home beside an old teacher from high school who never ran out of uninteresting stories to tell.
oh! and how can you not mention that you were subjected to remembering that your boyfriend fell in love with other people before he knew you? the mere mental image of jungkook being emotionally and physically intimate with somebody else is a strong punch in the gut that makes you want to run in a corner and hurl.
and to rub salt on the wound, his ex-girlfriend, who is more than comfortable to reach out to him with an old term of endearment, wants to work at close proximity with him after saying ‘i miss you so much’… was the ‘so much’ necessary? was saying ‘i miss you’ necessary at all? you don’t know her intentions or if she even has any, and you don’t care if they’re good or bad. you simply cannot bear the idea of having to be constantly plagued by these vexatious musings.
maybe a good cry would help, but the tears won’t come out of your stinging eyes blinded by bright and flickering neon shop signs lined up beside the street. they’re saltwater in your lungs, making it difficult for you to breathe and to make sense of why you don’t feel like yourself today. it’s hormones. it’s always the hormones, you try telling yourself.
you’re sitting infront of the glass wall separating the sidewalk and the convenience store, watching the humans and the cars speeding past without much thought in your head… except for the hellish torture you’re inflicting on yourself. you sniffle loudly as you chew the spicy noodles in your mouth. your tongue is tingling and almost numb, but you lift up the flimsy wooden chopsticks to eat more of it because somehow, this is exactly what you needed. perhaps, it wasn’t accidental when you ended up pouring most of the buldak sauce.
however, your own little bubble gets popped by a tattooed hand you recognize all too well. it sets down a bottle of cold water infront of your cup of noodles.
“hi there.”
jungkook kisses the top of your head before occupying the stool on your left, which is the second seat farthest from the door that chimes every time a new customer walks in. he is very much not naked anymore, wearing a plain white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. his hair is still damp, bangs forming a perfect comma on his forehead, and the thin silver chain dangling from his delicate neck sparkles when the light grazes it.
“aigoo, why are you so messy?“
the doe eyes behind his glasses smile at you warmly as he wipes your swollen lips, the paper napkin you’ve been neglecting now stained with the dark red sauce.
“you’re here?” you ask dumbly, wanting to slap yourself right after the words escape your mouth because yes, what the fuck, he’s here. he’s touching you, and he’s real.
“of course, i’m here,” his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek before he answers, sounding upset. he removes his glasses and places it on top of the long white table. “i just wore the first things i saw then speedwalked here. i was sorting out the laundry and your handkerchief had blood all over it! care to explain?”
you guiltily avoid eye-contact, reverting your attention to the food as you poke and mix the noodles that have gone dry due to the cold air. “you didn’t have to. i already cleaned the wound twice- my left arm just got scratched.” you shrug your shoulders meekly. “i had a bad day, that’s all.”
“who do i have to fight, huh? who hurt you and ruined your day?” he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting it up to make you look at him. his sincere concern is written all over his widened round eyes and creased forehead. “tell me, baby. i’ll make them pay.”
“well,” you anxiously sink your teeth on your bottom lip, a hesitant effort to control yourself because the particular word tastes too sour on your tongue. “your ex was just my last straw, you know? i don’t even want to call you ‘babe’ anymore.” your voice gradually quiets down in exasperation.
“why not?!”
you roll your eyes with a huff, pushing his hand away. “you’ll just remember her every time i say it.”
you grab the bottle of water, twisting off the cap and hissing when its ridges scratch the heel of your palm. you take big gulps of the beverage, feeling refreshed after the burning onslaught that assaulted your mouth.
“oh, come here. you- i need you closer.”
you squeak when you feel the heavy metal chair moving closer towards jungkook’s direction, one hand flying to your mouth and the other gripping his shoulder in fear of falling. he jokingly copies you when you send him a sharp glare. he puts an arm around you to affectionately hold the curve of your waist, anchoring his elbow on the table to rest his face on the palm of his hand.
“i took care of that, alright? i asked the company and they told me they put her on the waitlist. pretty sure she knows, too- that she’s not getting the job.“ he raises his perfectly shaped eyebrows in jest, playfully sticking out his tongue. “i told her i can’t help her, and not to contact me again in the future because i’m in a committed relationship. with you.” he squeezes your hip to reiterate his words. “then i blocked her number. i thought i did it before, but i guess i forgot to? ah, i don’t know!”
a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips and he happily grins when he notices, deep dimples making an appearance. unable to resist the urge, he briefly draws closer to kiss your cheek.
“besides, i forgot she even existed. why would i think of her when my favorite person is right infront of me? that’s absurd.”
he was truthfully flabbergasted at the foggy memories that resurfaced when he read her name, had one of those ‘oh, that’s right, this happened,’ and ‘why the fuck did i like this person again?’ moments.
“you’re the only one i think of when i hear the word ‘babe’. and when i hear love songs, or breakup songs, because they make me imagine us breaking up and i get so fucking sad.” his expression crumples into a look of sheepishness after spitting out the unplanned confession.
it’s terrifying at times, how an imaginary breakup with you feels more painful than his past heartbreaks combined. he almost lost you once, and he won’t let that happen again. he removes his hand on your waist to tenderly caress your hair when you bury your face in your hands.
shaking your head, you giggle at the genuine distress lacing his voice when he said the last sentence. “what are you saying?”
and then it finally happens.
restrained sobs replace the carefree giggles racking your body. your hot tears soak the palm of your hands until they drip down to your wrists. your frail voice comes out trembling, shattered, and disgustingly vulnerable for a space scattered with prying eyes and ears.
“…i just- fuck, i don’t want to say this but- i don’t think you understand- that i’m selfish. and i want you all for myself. i can’t stand that everybody wants to have you. i hate it, jungkook.”
your name rolls off from his tongue with a soft sigh as he pulls you in for a tight embrace. the comfort of his love and warmth further breaks you down, and you almost make yourself bleed to keep your cries quiet. his silken lips brush against your temple before he puckers them for a kiss that lasts four, five, six… seconds. you begin wondering if he might just stay like this forever, not that you mind, until he detaches himself to speak and you hear the smooching sound that signals the end of it.
“shhh, trust me, baby. i do.” he rubs your shoulder to soothe your tensed up body. “but i don’t care about that. they can die trying because i only want to be yours.”
you swallow the lump in your throat as his reassuring words tug at your heartstrings. you wiggle out of his secure arms, wiping your tears with the paws of your jacket as you force a smile. “it’s embarrassing. i don’t want to cry here.”
“how about in there, then?” he teasingly undoes the third button of his shirt, exposing more of his honey skin to the cool air. it reveals the rest of his silver chain, and his defined pecs are also peeking out. you whine in protest of his scandalousness, pounding his chest lightly with your closed fist.
he chuckles, corners of her crinkling with mischief as he buttons himself up again. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding-” he cradles your face in his hands, gingerly wiping away the tears still rolling down your cheeks.
between the two of you, he admits that he’s the one who cries more easily. it takes a colossal build-up of emotions for your tears to be released, and today’s influx caused your sink to overflow at long last. seeing you weep, it feels like a direct stab to the heart— especially unbearable, twisting deeper, when he’s part reason why. even so, it’s a big relief when the weight you’re carrying is being unloaded. but he understands that you don’t want to do that here… not here.
“as if you’ll let someone steal me away from you, huh? i know you, you cunning minx.”
you feign innocence, batting your eyelashes. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“that’s exactly what i’m talking about.” he smirks before planting a chaste kiss on tip of your nose. “don’t cry anymore. i love you.”
“i love you, too. but-” you sniffle, frowning at him as you motion at the cup of noodles infront of you. “why did you have to go and make me feel better? i don’t feel like finishing this anymore. it’s too spicy.”
“yeah, i can tell. look at your face. oh-” he squeezes your puffy face in one hand. “you were already crying eating that, poor baby… i’ll just finish the rest, how about that?”
“please,” you smile sweetly, delighted with his preposition. “i’ll buy ice cream. do you want anything? beer?”
“beer-” his face lights up like a christmas tree when it dawns on him that you said the word simultaneously.
you beam proudly, recounting the time you’ve been well-acquainted with every nook and cranny of jungkook’s essence of being. “did i pass the test? i’m taking my master’s degree in kookology.”
after jungkook finished your spicy noodles, he claimed his appetite only treated it as an appetizer and it demanded to be served ramyeon for the main course. that brings you to this moment, your boyfriend applying bandaids on your arm while he waits for his food to be cooked. concurrently, you devour your cone of vanilla ice cream.
“babe, i think two is enough.“ you attempt to stop him from opening another one of the teddy bear patterned bandaids. he found them displayed by the counter when he paid for the ramyeon, and only then did he realize that he forgot why he ran to you in the first place.
“they’re not- it goes all the way down your elbow.”
and you can’t argue with him because he looks undoubtedly pissed off, his expression instantly darkening when he saw the damage that damn zipper did to your skin. if this happened to him, he would be in a terrible mood for the rest of the day, too.
he plants a healing kiss on top of each one and your heart flutters at the loving gestures, but you feel a little ridiculous walking around with three bandaids running across your arm. you decide to wear your jacket again in order to hide them, since you’re freezing beside the airconditioner anyway.
jungkook starts eating his second round of noodles, but not before boasting that he perfectly separated the wooden chopsticks unlike you. you roll your eyes at his cocky grin and tiny dance of celebration, taking another bite of the cone you’ve consumed halfway.
the two of you comically freeze at the same time when a familiar ringtone tickles your ears.
“who would be calling at this hour? it’s 1am!” jungkook puts down his chopsticks to fish out his phone from the depths of his pocket, his thick satoori accent slipping out as he chides the person on the other line. he shakes his head with a laugh when he sees the name written on the screen. “ey, of course, it’s him again. i knew it.”
you watch him with an amused smile, his reaction giving you an inkling of who it is.
he answers the video call and props up the phone on his tall can of beer, grabbing his chopsticks to resume eating. “hyung, did you just wake up again?”
judging by the background, taehyung is in his gaming room. the given keywords being messy hair and eyes as puffy as yours, you’re pretty sure the answer to your boyfriend’s question is yes.
his deep and rough voice rumbles through the speaker. “jungkook-ah, i just caught up to our gc. where’s ___?”
“with me. why?” jungkook answers, words muffled as he chews and bounces his legs with the pleasure of having his food craving beyond satisfied.
taehyung ignores his question for the second time, instead calling out your name to catch your attention.
“whyyy?” you mimic his sulky tone, slightly shifting the phone to the side to show him your face.
you snicker when he flashes you his famous boxy smile, almost choking on your ice cream when his following remarks cause jungkook to throw a fit.
“play with me. no one else is awake and i’m getting bored of jungkook. he doesn’t want to play new games.”
“yah! you know i can still hear you, right?!” he takes a break from chugging his beer to throw his retort.
“i know, i wanted you to.” taehyung blows a raspberry at his best friend.
you grimace, stealing the opportunity to butt in before their banter lengthens. “listen, i’ll play with you if you let me play with tannie again.”
he opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes it again to stare at you nonchalantly. you impatiently quirk an eyebrow at his silence. “soooo?”
“wait there. i’ll think about it.”
and then he ends the call.
jungkook throws his head back, bursting into vibrant laughter after witnessing the interaction, and your head drops on the table with a pitiful whimper.
with bam staying at the training center for the meantime, you awfully miss the rush of happy chemicals flooding your brain in the company of man’s best friend. it was two weeks ago when you and jungkook hung out at taehyung’s house. you spent some time with yeontan at the park after you complained about getting bored watching them play ‘i’m on observation duty’. and he wasn’t… very happy when his dog started flat-out ignoring him in favor of your presence ever since you came back from the walk. tannie was adamant on sitting on your lap during dinnertime, even almost following you past the front door when it was time for you to leave.
“aww, my baby.” jungkook strokes your back with faux sympathy. “he hasn’t moved on from it yet. give him some time… maybe, like, five more minutes?”
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youunravelme · 6 months
Text
it's nice to have a friend
author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.
pairing: mat barzal x reader
summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties
warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex
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there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.
wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.
the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.
mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.
and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.
your friendship worked well because of it.
age eight
you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.
but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.
you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.
you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.
he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.
it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.
the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.
"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.
the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.
"get far away from here."
"would you bring me?" mat asked.
you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.
mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.
"what would you wish for?"
he shrugged. "to be bigger."
you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"
"so i could protect you better."
age nine
at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.
mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.
"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."
you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.
it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.
age thirteen
you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.
things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.
things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.
because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.
now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.
you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.
and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.
maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.
so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.
age fifteen
you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.
you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.
mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).
you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.
mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.
but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.
chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.
lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.
chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.
they broke up two weeks later.
age sixteen
you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.
and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.
both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.
and he did.
he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.
you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.
"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.
you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."
he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."
you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.
you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.
so you called him sobbing.
he picked up on the second ring.
he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"
"my dad," you sobbed.
mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.
you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.
you didn't.
everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.
just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.
just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.
age nineteen
when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.
mat was moving across the fucking continent.
but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.
until he went to new york full time.
and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.
you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.
he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.
you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?
you had to get a grip.
so you did.
you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.
you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.
(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).
you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.
you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.
but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.
no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.
you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.
you couldn't afford to lose them too.
now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.
you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.
your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.
age twenty-three
you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.
you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.
he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.
he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).
and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.
you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.
you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.
"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.
"only if i get to marry you," you replied.
mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"
and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.
despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.
but you couldn't.
it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.
you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.
but what about mat?
you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.
but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.
though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.
that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.
he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.
age twenty-four
you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.
maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.
you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.
"sorry, my bad--"
you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.
his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.
you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.
but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.
but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.
he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.
you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.
but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.
and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.
when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.
you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.
"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."
you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.
you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.
except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.
you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.
when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.
but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.
after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.
"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.
"working," you replied.
he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"
you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.
you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.
his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.
"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.
you shrugged. "fine."
he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"
"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.
in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.
"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."
mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"
"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"
"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."
you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"
he nodded. "as a heart attack."
could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.
the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .
you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.
mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.
"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"
you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.
the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.
"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.
maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.
while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.
you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).
but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.
you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.
your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.
but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.
you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.
but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.
almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."
you could've cried. you almost did.
but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.
two months later
mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.
you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.
you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.
and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.
because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.
or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.
you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?
it turned out to be a mistake.
you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.
but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.
your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.
when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.
the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.
you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.
you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."
that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.
you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.
mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.
in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"
you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.
he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.
"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."
your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.
"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"
"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."
"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"
you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"
"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"
"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"
"i--"
"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"
"i'm sorry, what?"
"you left--"
"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."
you blinked.
but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."
"you were too busy!"
"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."
you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.
he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.
but you zoned out.
you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.
your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.
it was only 1pm.
and your mom was still at work.
but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.
you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.
but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.
but you weren't a stranger to this situation.
you opened the window and climbed out.
but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.
you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.
something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.
"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"
you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.
"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."
"you left," was all you could say.
mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.
"but--"
he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."
"you would've been too busy--"
he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"
you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.
"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"
so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.
you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.
your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.
"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"
"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.
"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."
mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.
"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.
"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."
"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."
"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"
mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."
"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"
"thomas was an idiot."
"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"
"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."
"and you left and i--"
mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"
you nodded.
"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."
you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.
four months later
you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.
earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.
and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.
"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."
"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."
you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."
"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."
almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.
your shoulders relaxed.
you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.
if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.
a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.
grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.
when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.
mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.
"how was therapy?" he asked.
you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"
"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"
"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."
if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."
"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.
you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.
"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"
"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"
you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"
but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.
"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"
he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."
age twenty-six
after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.
but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.
in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.
so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.
mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"
"i love you" was all you could blubber out.
mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."
you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."
"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.
you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.
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should-be-sleeping · 6 months
Text
Tough day today... and friendly reminder that being human is easier when we help each other.
I saw one of our neighbors, an older woman we sometimes talk to in passing, sitting outside of her house. I don't know what exactly made me look twice, but on second glance as we drove by I realized her walker was in the grass. She was otherwise just sitting there, like she had a thousand times before, so it would have been easy to assume she was fine and go on with my life as normal but something told me to go check in on her anyway.
She was not fine. She was the polar opposite of fine. Just diagnosed with terminal cancer not fine. No next of kin not fine. A veteran facing eviction from her house for missing rent while in the hospital not fine. In constant debilitating pain not fine. Only semi-lucid not fine. She was extremely alone not fine.
I thought, at most, she might be bored while unable to pick up her walker not fine. A five minute detour from my day not fine. A help her back into her house and say "see you later!" not fine. Instead I spent the last three hours with her because she was so scared and alone and no one should be alone.
We talked a lot while I was there. She's actually two years younger than my mom (who also has cancer but slightly better luck, I guess). I helped her into her house and got her a drink and we talked about what all is going on with her. None of it was good. I was as reassuring as I could be, but there's only so much of this I can actually help her with.
"Why did you come?" she asked through tears.
"Because you looked like you might need some help."
She called me an angel. I told her I was just doing my best. I told her that kindness should never be rare. That we should all try to make the world just a little bit better than it was.
She offered to pay me but I told her I was just there as a friend. Before today we were basically strangers. No need to repay me with anything other than her company, I assured her. She cried, a lot. I managed not to somehow. Something tells me she had needed to cry long before this but in being Strong she never had the chance to.
She needed to get her mail, which is a long walk when you're disabled because it is not at all handicap accessible (across a parking lot, over a bridge, across a small field). So I helped her get her mail. We stopped every three feet because her pain was so bad, but she was determined to be able to go do this with me and not just send me on an errand. I patiently stayed with her and reminded her, through her apologies, it was fine to take our time: there was a nice breeze and birds were singing. She appreciated this. She loves nature.
Halfway back she said she wanted to go to the pool. To put her feet in the water. She loves water, and has not been able to even see the pool in a month. Neither of us were dressed for swimming, but I took her to the pool anyway. There is a stair leading down to it, meaning she couldn't bring her walker, so I offered her my arm.
We went to the pool. She put her feet in the water and then, with more energy and enthusiasm than I'd seen the whole time, she jumped in. In her fancy dress! She was instantly ten years younger at least, clear and happy, floating in the sun. Dress and all. She grew up with a pool and had been on a swim team.
I sat by the edge of the pool while she swam, keeping her company and also making sure she was okay. When she got tired I took her back home and then had to help her get undressed and redressed. I made sure she felt no shame. Getting out of wet clothes is hard for anyone, let alone someone with like twenty pounds of tumors racking them with constant pain.
She was so fucking happy to have gone swimming.
She is trying to "make everything right" before she goes. Trying to repay her debt to society and her debts in general. She couldn't understand why the corporation that owns our houses wouldn't take her money. She was genuinely distressed -- not to be homeless on her deathbed but to not leave this world with a clean slate. I told her intent matters. She can only do her best.
This company not letting her repay her debt was their fault, not hers.
When I finally needed to go, I told her to let me know any time she needed a hand or just wanted company. She told me she was going to die tonight. I told her I hoped not, so I could see her tomorrow. I offered her a hug, we hugged and she sobbed for a solid ten minutes into my shoulder. I told her she was okay. That it was okay.
When I got home I cried myself, because I could not believe she was going through all of that alone. I cannot even imagine how isolated she must have felt. Once I pulled myself back together I sent her a text reminding her to reach out any time and I'd do my best to come over. Like, any time at all.
I hope she is here tomorrow.
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jesterwriting · 5 months
Text
scenario: stuck in a timeloop and the only way to restart is to die
pairing: sanji x reader, law x reader, ace x reader (separate)
contents: hurt/comfort, angst, gore, im serious about the gore tw, graphic description of death, post traumatic symptoms, maybe a touch of survivors guilt, breakdowns, time loops, if youve seen rezero you know whats up
word count: 1.6k words
note: okay if theres one thing i love, its angst and hurt comfort, and if there’s one thing i do when i write it, i go crazy with it. my hands were genuinely shaking while i wrote this. hope you enjoy! [evil laughter]
playlist: eleanor by cake bake betty
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No matter how many times you died, you couldn’t help but scream when you woke up again. You lost count how many times it happened, and it wasn’t like there was any point in keeping count besides depressing yourself with your numerous failures. This was your power; horrible and nowhere near worth the cost of losing your ability to swim. With every death, you would restart back at a random checkpoint, beginning anew, able to change the way the timeline went. All it took was to die, and lord above, did you die. Sometimes it was quick, other times it was an agony that would haunt you for many loops after.
Your power left you lonely. Friendships you made in one timeline, didn’t exist in others. You remembered when you were young and greeted a friend from a past loop with a hug. Of course, they didn’t know who you were. They no longer remembered the adventures you experienced or the trials you endured, only you held those memories now. They pushed you away with a look of distress, and you cried for hours after that, burdened with the knowledge that whatever friendship you had before, was gone forever now.
You isolated yourself after that.
It wasn’t until recently that you found yourself with a crew, though no one knew of your ability. You hated talking about it, hated reliving each death again and again. Every time you felt strong enough to speak about it, you always ended up dying and resetting everything back to the status quo. You were surrounded by friends, but so completely, and utterly alone. It was a worm in your gut, chewing on you from within and tearing you apart.
Now, here you were. Dying again.
Failing again.
Your eye spasmed in your skull, the other nothing more than jelly in your socket. The taste of iron pooled in your mouth as you hunched over, organs squirming like maggots from the wound on your abdomen. Sobs wracked your body. With shaking hands, you scooped your entrails into the crook of your arm in hopes that you could put them back inside of you. They were slimy and warm, and you were reminded of eels, or perhaps hagfish.
Everything hurt. You were so afraid, you couldn’t breathe. There was a loud bang and a heavy pressure on your chest. Or maybe, your inability to catch your breath stemmed from the bullet that had pierced through your ribcage and into your lungs. When did that happen? You didn’t know, you didn’t care, all you knew was that you didn’t want to die.
Of course, you didn’t get a say in the matter. Before you knew it, your muscles were going slack and your body was crumpling to the ground. Blood poured from between your lips as your tongue wagged numbly in your mouth. If you weren’t careful, you might bite it off. It had happened before, and you died drowning in your own blood rather than to the slow drain of your wounds. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could have been saved then.
Not now, though. Your guts were supposed to be inside you, not spewed and steaming on the ground.
And, just like that, it was over.
You awoke in bed and screamed. With gasping breaths, your hands frantically felt the intact skin of your belly, and your bulletless chest. Though you were safe, the ghost of your pain lingered like a knife against your back. Sobs tore from your throat as you curled in on yourself.
It had been a long time since a death this bad. So lost in your own misery — again, again, it happened again, why won’t it stop? — you didn’t hear the door open until it was too late.
“Black Leg” Sanji
Sanji was across the room, scooping you into his arms before you were able to blink. You gasped and squirmed slightly as he rubbed your back. A part of you was still there, bleeding out on the ground, and your heart wouldn’t stop hammering wildly in your chest, even as Sanji murmured sweet nothings into your ear. Phantom pain gripped you, and your stomach clenched when you remembered just how slimy your insides were as you tried to put them back where they belonged.
“I’m here, love, I’m here.”
That only made you cry more. Your breath hitched as you gripped the back of his dress shirt in your fist and buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were hyperventilating, afraid that the bullet in your chest followed you into this loop, threatening to drag you under again. You died in Sanji’s arms once before, and the terror on his face had etched itself into your brain forever. It couldn’t happen again, you would drag yourself away to die alone under a rock if you could help it.
Sanji’s hand shook as he stroked your hair. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Finally, you caught your breath and wiped the tears from your face. With a watery smile, one you were sure was nowhere near as convincing as you wanted if Sanji’s worried expression was anything to go by.
“I had a nightmare,” You said.
If Sanji knew you were lying, he didn’t say anything. He only held you while you desperately pretended that you had stopped trembling.
Trafalgar Law
Law was the last person who you wanted to see like this. He carried too much already. You were sure that he would crumble if he knew the weight you had been carrying right under his nose. Frantic, you pawed at your face to remove the evidence of your breakdown as if he hadn’t heard you screaming moments before.
“Hey,” He said softly, crouching beside you to gently grab you by the shoulders. Law squeezed, and you took a shaky breath and remembered where you were. You weren’t dying alone in the middle of nowhere, you were on the Polar Tang, with Law, somewhere on the Grand Line.
You sniffled and cracked a small smile. “Hey.”
Unwanted visions of your previous death assaulted you from behind your eyes. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as your arms snaked around your middle to hold your organs inside. It still hurt, why did it still hurt? You were safe now, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.
Gently, Law pried your arms from your abdomen and pulled up your shirt to inspect it. “I don’t see any external injuries…”
You watched the possibility of an internal injury flit across his face. Before the word ‘room’ left his lips, you shook your head and choked on another sob.
“I had a dream I died,” You admitted the half truth with the sour taste of bile on your tongue.
Law’s brows knit and he let out a small, “Ah.”
Awkward, not yet used to the affection you bestowed upon him so readily, he wrapped his long arms around you with a small pat on your back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“If I died, you need to know I would never blame you.” It came out of nowhere, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The truth was, you would blame yourself, you had a lot of experience doing that, though you thought better of saying that aloud.
Law didn’t say anything in response, his thumb rubbing gentle circles between your shoulder blades.
Portgas D. Ace
“What happened? Why are you crying?” Ace was talking before he even reached you, pulling you against his bare chest before you even had a chance to realize he was here. His scent filled your nose, filled your head, until you were hysterical and pulling him as close as possible.
“Was someone here? Did someone hurt you?” With his righteous anger, his body temperature rose as harmless flames licked your fingers. All you could do was cry, so captivated with the man in front of you, your death was all but forgotten.
“No, no, I’m okay.” You pulled back to study his face, your own stained with snot and tears. He practically glowed in the moonlight that streamed through your window. Even at night, Ace shone like the sun. Your clumsy hands found his freckles, sweeping across the bridge of his nose and down his cheeks to his lips. Flesh and bone, alive and whole. You sobbed harder, low keening whines ripping from your throat before you could stop them.
“Had- Had a dream you were gone.”
Ace pulled you tighter against him. “Oh, babe, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
With your fingers tangled in his hair, Ace rocked you back and forth, hushing you softly while you wished to tear open your ribcage and keep him safe inside your body forever. The only way to get to him would be to rip you apart, and even then, you would come back again, stronger than ever. No one would be able to take him from you. You had died too many times to count, faced pain time and time again, there was no torture you wouldn’t endure if it meant you wouldn’t lose your sun.
How many loops had it been? How many times have you had to watch Ace die?
You’d save him this time, you would make sure of it.
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cupidswan · 1 month
Text
ଓ ⁺˳‧₊ SANDS OF LOST TIME.
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୨ genre ୧ angst, no comfort
: had he been given another choice, he’d choose it in a heartbeat. but what else were you supposed to expect when he’s being pushed into choosing between the only things that matter to him?
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ note ! why do people always mischaracterize rafayel... like i just saw someone on twt say he doesn’t care about mc at all and him “easily betraying” her is one of its giveaway evidences 😭 if you thoroughly read/played the story and actually took your time to understand his character then maybe you wouldn’t see him that way :’D
“do you really have to do this...?” you stared at him with wide, shaky eyes that had tears endlessly pouring out of them. you felt your body turn colder with each passing second, getting goosebumps over the mere thought of your fate lying ahead of you.
“you know i have no other choice- my people mean everything to me.” rafayel tried to sound as nonchalant as he could, but the faint crack of his voice betrayed him completely.
“and i don’t?”
you felt your body trembling as you saw a faint glow of his evol in his palms. that was when you knew he had already made up his mind and didn’t have any plans to go back on his word – and it broke you. you couldn’t believe it, you really couldn’t. you spent years with rafayel thinking he was fully devoted to you and that what you both had was guaranteed to last an eternity in each and every lifetime you both lived in – yet here he was, standing right in front of you with the intention to get rid of you permanently for the sake of the protocore he needed in order to save lemuria.
and rafayel couldn’t, either. he tried to stop it long before the day was destined to arrive – he really did. whenever you’d break into a fit of laughter the moment he loses against you after playing kitty cards with each other, everything else around him fades away as you become the only thing he sees in his vision, feeling over the moon as he gazes at you lovingly and give himself a prideful tap on his shoulder for being the reason behind your smile, and those are the moments that snap him out of his imaginary bubble that you two were meant to have a happy ending – one day, he’s going to have to become the exact same reason you’ll drown in a fit of despair, too.
and that’s when he feels the heavy drive to rush and find another way to save his nation without having to harm you in any way – and every attempt was in vain, yet he never stopped. he looked, and looked, and looked, until he finally hit the surface and could no longer swim deeper.
he was in a battle against himself. would he choose his ideals over you and save his people, or would he choose to betray his own homeland and go with you instead? he had always wished he could choose both – up until now, he still does. although much to his dismay, he could only walk down one path.
and as you’re now engulfed in his flames, it was very clear which one he chose.
“no! don’t- don’t do this to me! please...!” you were practically screeching for mercy at this point, feeling each part of your skin get set aflame by his evol. you felt your vision turn more blurry within each tick of the clock as hopeless sobs left your lips. you felt yourself grow weaker within every passing second, desperately holding your hand out to him, still hoping that maybe, just maybe – he’d change his mind.
he shut his eyes, no longer being able to see the one he had once built a future in his head with despite knowing it was impossible to suffer and go through so much pain simply because he couldn’t choose you over his ideals. your desperate cries echoed in his head as he felt himself completely break into pieces.
“don’t go...!”
and that was it. that was his last straw.
lemuria was his homeland, indeed, but he had already found a place he truly belonged to – in the loving embrace of your arms. rafayel immediately controlled his evol to stop it from hurting you even further, but the moment he opened his eyes after doing so –
you were no longer in front of him.
“no... i...” rafayel’s heartbeat started racing as he repeatedly shook his head, eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at the ground. “what have i done...?” he felt himself become weak as he dropped down to the floor to pick up the only remnant of you left in linkon – the handmade seashell necklace he had given to you after you went to explore the beach a few years ago regarding your personal mission in the N109 zone.
and the moment his gaze flickered to the aether core laying right beside it, he felt his guts twist. he couldn’t even get himself to hold it – it was all too much for him. he made you suffer. rafayel made you suffer. rafayel was at fault. he was at fault. you were gone. you were gone because of him.
it all rang in his head repeatedly like a chant, and that was when it all came crumbling down on him. you were no longer by his side. you didn’t turn into a corpse, you didn’t leave behind any ashes of your bones, either.
you were gone. completely gone.
he wanted to rewind everything. he wanted to go back to the times he was the only one who had to be worried about your upcoming fate. he wanted to bring you back. he wanted to wake up in cold sweat as he glances to the other side of his bed and see you peacefully sleeping.
and he could picture it – he could picture himself getting the revenge his homeland yearned for, and he could picture himself saving them all. everyone would be grateful, everyone would be proud of him, everyone would love him, everyone would think he was a hero of some sort.
he could also picture himself drowning in a sea of guilt at those very moments, too.
because even if he had saved the lives of many, he did it at the cost of losing the only person who gave him a reason not to completely succumb to the darkness.
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♡ , cupidswan.
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peachyloveswriting · 1 year
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I just loved your writing! So get ready for the highs to come! how Vash, Knives and Wolfwood would react to a reader who is immortal, like Kenny from south park, the reader keeps dying in tragic and horrible ways or even weirdly funny ways in front of them, but for some strange reason, the next day you're alive,as if nothing had happened the day before.
sIf you want to approach it in a somewhat comical way, because in the south park cartoon kenny is cursed by immortality, because his parents went to a satanic ritual because there was free beer. If you want to tackle that part of the story, that's fine with me.
Actually, this is kind of funny. Kenny is my favorite South Park character at this point I know him inside out. Lol. This ought to be interesting. Thanks for the request. I'm actually really excited to write for knives finally! Let me know what you think.
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YOU'RE IMMORTAL!? --- Vash, Knives, & Wolfwood
SUMMARY: For years you've wondered where your immortality comes from, your parents never told you so you kept it to yourself. Until the day came that someone remembered.
WARNINGS: Major angst, death, death description, death mentions, trauma. Please continue at your own discretion. I warned you.
NOTES: Vash's part is before he runs into Meryl and Roberto because I'm too lazy to write the other characters reactions as well. Wolfwood's part is short because I spent all my energy on Vash and Knives. I think Knives is my favorite part, I'm cherishing it.
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
Vash
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"Sleepy head. C'mon wake up." You shake Vash's shoulder to wake him up. He groans before his eyes crack open. At first seeing you he mumbles a greeting before turning over to ignore you. It was right when he was going to turn away that the realization hit him like a freight train. His eyes suddenly open wide, pain swims inside of them as he looks up at you.
There was no way this was possible. Just the night before you had died right in front of him. Your head was blown into bits by some piece of shit bounty hunter. You had nothing to do with this. There was no reason for it to happen and it was all because you got involved with him. He was just starting to accept what happened and now here you are shaking him awake.
"I must be crazy." He mumbles to himself. Tears pool in his eyes and he sits up, bringing his hands to cover his face. "It's not real."
"Vash?" His babbling is confusing. He wouldn't know about you dying would he. No one else seemed to realize, so why would he? His sobs make this almost clear as day. Lifting a hand you rest it on his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. "What's wrong?" He continues sobbing into his hands and saying things you can't understand. It breaks your heart to see him like this, he's never cried in front of you before he's always been so happy and lucky. What happened?
Sliding your hand across his back and pulling him close, you hug him tightly. With your other hand pressed to the back of his head you tuck it safely under your chin where his teas soak your skin. Quietly you hush him, rubbing soft patterns along his back and whispering soft reassurances until he's reduced to nothing but harsh breathing.
Suddenly he speaks. "You're not real." He claims. Lifting his head to pull away from the hug he securely grabs your biceps. "You've got to be a ghost."
Now it's clear, exactly what's going on. Lifting your hands to cup his face you hush him once more. "It's me Vash. It's really me. I'm still here."
He shakes his head and his bottom lip trembles. "But I watched you die. I even buried you!" He cries.
Frowning, you pull him back into a secure hug. That night is as clear as ever in your head. You were laying flat on your back struggling against a man that pressed his gun to your head. You weren't strong enough to push him away and he pulled the trigger before Vash could stop him. You still remember hearing Vash calling out to you right before you died. He shouldn't have remembered in the slightest. That should have been the only time you'd ever have to see him in a bad mental state over your death. Yet he sat in your arms mentally destroyed by the sight of you.
How would you explain everything to him? Even worse, how could you put him through something like that and expect him to not be upset at you? This is the first time you've ever had to consider these things, it's never happened before. How were you supposed to deal with this?
Vash lifts his head once more to look you in the eyes. "You're not playing tricks on me right?" He asks in a broken voice. The tip of his node is red now and his eyes are puffy too. He even trembles in your touch. Why did it have to be him?
"Vash, I need to tell you something." His eyes don't show any hint of what might come next and that scares you. Anything could happen, the possibilities are endless and not all of them are good. You take a deep breath to quell your frayed nerves. It doesn't work but you try to carry on the calmest you can.
"What I'm about to tell you might make you mad or even make you think I'm crazy but I swear to you what you saw that night and what you're seeing right now is absolutely true. I did die." My hands can no longer hold onto him any more, they shake so hard I can't occupy them at all. Vash suddenly intertwines our fingers together to calm my shaking. I offer a brief smile before continuing.
"I can't die. I'm immortal." Those words are the hardest to say. Now that it's done it feels so easy but I know I might not be able to deal with causing this kind of trauma again.
Vash's hands loosen from mine. "Oh thank goodness!" I'm tackled into a hug. He has me pinned to the ground from his enormous weight and his head is tucked away against my neck. "I thought I really lost you." He lifts his head to look down at me. "You have no idea how happy I am." Tears still flow freely down his face as he gives me that stupid smile of his. It still makes my stomach do flips just looking at it.
"I could kiss you right now!" He doesn't move to do anything even though he's already announced it. He stares at me quietly in anticipation for my response. With wide eyes and a red hot face I nod. He's eager to kiss me right away as his hands find my face in no time at all. Surprisingly he's a lot more gentle than I expected. His lips are so warm and soft against mine. Quick to start but in no time to stop, Vash deepens the kiss for just a brief moment before he pulls away.
"Oh my god I have so much to tell you. I love you so much. I was so worried when it happened, gosh I wish all humans were immortal."
You chuckle at his excitement. "You can tell me all about it whenever you want. I've got all the time in the world."
"Hey. I do too." Vash beams down at you. Your eyes widen and your stomach does somersaults. "Wait, what!?"
Allowing you to sit up, Vash nervously scratches the back of his neck. "I guess I have something to tell you too."
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Millions Knives
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You woke up in your bed slightly out of it. The events from the day before are ever present in your mind. The little girl the doctor had been escorting everywhere had killed you. It was accidental on the Doctor's behalf but that girl had every intention of filling you with nails. Waking up the next day completely okay isn't out of the ordinary, it's happened before. It's still shocking to die and wake up completely okay it never seems to entirely become a nonchalant process.
You left your room and passed by the very doctor who watched you die. Just like every other morning he gives you a wave as you pass by which you return happily. He doesn't remember which is a good thing. No one has ever remembered you dying before, at least it's yet to come into fruition. You're glad that day hasn't come yet, you're still unsure of what to do when it does.
"Oh, Doc?" You turn to face him. He does the same. "Where's Naï?"
The doctor frowns. "He's been in his room since yesterday." That's strange, Knives doesn't need sleep, so why would he be in his room?
"Thanks." You offer a parting wave as you turn to walk off towards knives room. Knives or Naï, as he lets you call him, lets you stay here in the tower with him. He often enjoys your company throughout the night, everyone finds it bizarre that you won him over. It's obvious that mostly everyone except for the Doc and Naï hates you. Each one of them respects you in the presence of Knives but away from him, they make it known.
The reason why Naï favors you is unknown. He never speaks about it and he always acts like he wants to keep you at arms distance, but it's so much more than that. He's played songs for you on his piano and claims he made them for you himself. He makes sure your needs are met, he gives you food, a bed to sleep in, and keeps you happy. Naï protects you. There have been times where you've needed saving from someone within the building, mostly the ones who hate you. You call his name and he's by your side immediately, it's amazing. Sometimes you wake up to Naï sitting at the end of your bed watching the door, other times you find him tracing parts of your skin with his metal attachments.
You're not scared of him but everyone else is. Even as you step up to his door and lift your hand to knock, you're not scared. Just after your first knock, a scream comes from inside. Wooden shards break apart from the door as his metal tendrils snap through. You scream and drop to the floor with your arms covering your head.
Knives has always seen himself as a being who's incapable of truly caring for another, especially humans. Humans are the very thing he has worked his whole life to get rid of and yet at this moment in time he finds himself scared. The scream that had come from the other side of the door sounded like you, but how? You had died hours before, surely it was someone else.
"Go away!" He warns. His tendrils recede from the door and back inside of him where they seeth with unrest.
Seeing his blades recede you slowly rise to full height, your legs shaking underneath you. "Naï, it's me" Your hand shakes profusely as you rest it along the threshold to keep your balance.
Inside the room, Knives can feel his anger boil. "You dare impersonate them. I'll kill you!" In anger he stands from his bed and extends his tendrils once again. They break through the door, pulling back to rip it away inside the room. He steps forward, releasing his blades from the holes within the broken door to slice his visitor into pieces. For the first time, he feels time slow to a stop. His heart is pounding in his ears and his chest burns hot.
It's not possible. Humans don't have the ability to sustain injuries like the ones he saw from you and walk away unharmed. Humans definitely can't come back to life. He knows it, so why are you cowering in his doorway shaking with fear? Why can he hear you telling him to stop? Why is he scared?
Your arms cover your view again, you know it's a futile effort. He could kill you any time he pleased yet you tried to block it anyway. Surely you were already dead, you'd wake up again in your bed and return back to normal. Instead, rapid footsteps race towards you. Fear consumes you. This nightmare was really still going.
Naï screams your name as he tackles you. His strong arms scooping you into his grasp and sweep you from the floor. Gasping in surprise you open your eyes to find him looking at you in fear. Falling to his knees he releases you onto your knees.
"You died how are you still alive?" His breathing is hard and rapid as his hands raise to cup your face. He's so soft when he touches your skin like he's afraid he might break you if he presses too hard. "I didn't hurt you just now did I?" Panic fills him when you don't respond, his chest begins to ache and his eyes begin to sting.
"Please, speak. I'm so scared right now." This is the first time you've ever heard him beg. He's never sounded so scared before or alone.
"Naï." You wrap your arms around him pulling him into a hug. He can feel you shaking hard against him as small whimpers fall from your lips. He's never known a feeling stronger than the one he feels now. The way his heart tugs at the sound of your cries when he securely wraps his arms around you in fear of this all being fake.
Feeling his arms wrap around you, releases the tension in your body. Suddenly the fear you held onto at the beginning melts away and his smell calms your nerves. His breathing stutters against your neck before he lifts his head to cup your face again. Tears now soak his face and shine with the lights in the room. His hands tremble against you as they hold you.
"I'm so sorry, I scared you." Closing his eyes in disdain, he shakes his head and presses his forehead to yours. "I didn't think it was you- I thought you died."
Your heart aches as you grab his shaking wrist. "Don't worry about that Naï. I'm here. It's ok."
Opening his wet eyes he pulls his head away and grabs your hands. "How are you here? I saw the video. She killed you, I saw your body myself. I swear you... I was so scared. First Vash... But you too."
Pulling your hands from his you raise them to wipe the tears from his face. "Breathe Naï, I haven't left you. I can't even die."
His eyes grow wide as his breath hitches in this throat. "I'm immortal, Naï."
For a moment he stares at you, unsure of whether he can believe your words or not. You're living proof, touching him and talking to him right now. Even when he saw you dead that was real too he was sure of it. Was that really the truth? Could you really not die? Even with his doubt, relief filled him from top to bottom. The corners of his mouth began to twitch upwards into a smile, what he could only describe as joy warmed him.
"My flower..." He coos. "You can stay with me forever?"
You nod. "Yes. Naï. I can stay."
Breaking free of your hands, he pulls you into another hug. The only being he's felt this way towards is you and if he had to say what love is he'd tell someone about you. The joy you bring him is immeasurable to everything else in this stupid world. He'd kill an empire of people just for you and you alone. You are the ultimate being, the one that's just perfect for him.
"I don't know if this is right but I love you." He pulls away.
Heat blooms in your cheeks. Did he really say that? The most powerful being, could snap you like a twig and yet he presses a soft delicate kiss to your forehead.
"Oh Naï. I love you too."
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Wolfwood
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This was the first time during Wolfwood's contract that he let Vash leave his eyesight. Never before had he experienced enough grief to make him walk away from something like this. Maybe you were just the last straw. For sure he would retire after this. He had something with you and just like that it's gone. He would never feel something like that again, it's just not possible.
Sitting alone in the desert he was sure you called his name somewhere in the distance, for some reason he felt hope before it fell and shattered to the ground. You were gone, there's no reason for his mind to be playing tricks on him like this. He couldn't subject himself to this kind of torture and live on. No. But then it came again and it was closer this time. You called out to him from somewhere in the distance. You begged for him to come back, but he knew it was just a hallucination. Knowing that, he still turned around to see your figure wading through the darkness towards him.
Seeing him turn around, you jogged forward with worry. "Nick! You can't just leave like that. Do you know how worried I was. I've been searching for you since this morning. I thought something horrible happened."
He turned around and didn't say anything. If god was real he was surely laughing at him from hell right now. Just as he thought your memory had left your hands slid around his chest and you pressed against his back. He watched you lay your head on his shoulder with a sigh of relief. Was it even possible to go this crazy?
"You're dead. So stop following me." He grumbles.
Hearing those words fall from his mouth leaves you frozen against him. "You remember?" You stammer.
Suddenly he breaks free of your grasp and stands to face you. "Of course I remember you dying. Did you really have to remind me, you damn trick."
This has never happened before, it would have happened eventually for sure but why did it have to be with him?
"No one's ever remembered me dying before." You mutter.
His eyes widen and he backs away from you, anger laced on his face. Turning away he grabs his cross and settles it on his back. "Stop talking crazy!" With his back turned he begins to walk away. Your heart drops as you rush forward to stop him.
"Nick. Wait!" You trip against the sand. Gritting your teeth, you push yourself to your feet. "I can't die. I'm immortal!" Grabbing his shoulder, you force him to face you. "Feel me! I'm alive and well right in front of you! And maybe I should have said something sooner but I didn't think I'd have to. Nick please just believe me." Tears pool in your eyes. "Please."
Nick's gaze doesn't leave the sand at your feet. The crushed cigarette in his lips falls to the wayside and he sets the cross down. You died, yet you stood in front of him. He could hear you, touch you, it had to be you. How would he know otherwise? Even if it wasn't real what could it hurt to indulge himself just a little bit. So, he drops his facade and reaches forward to capture you in his arms.
You're hard, your skin is squishy and warm. You're not soaked with blood. This is real, it's real. It has to be. "I swear if this isn't real..." He trails off.
Wrapping your arms around him and sighing into his chest, you speak. "I swear it's real. Nick... I'm sorry."
Feeling his legs grow weak, Nick falls to his knees and pulls you down with him. Against you he begins to shake and his breath grows ragged. "You scared me baby." He cries.
You raise and hand to the back of his head and stroke his hair. "I'm so sorry."
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oneforthemunny · 23 days
Note
I will take an argument with literally any of them. break my heart pls (but not too bad bc I am not doing too great pls & ty)
my punching bag today will be older!eddie.
"Delilah, no." Eddie's voice was stern, steady and full of authority, stilling the toddler from her terrorizing tirade.
Her little lip jutting, eyes rounding like they always did when she'd get scolded. You cringed at her suck of breath, a warning that the wailing sob was nearing.
Your temples throbbed at the sound, a dramatic, crocodile teared wail, diving straight into your leg with a pitiful, teary cry. "Mama!" Delilah sobbed, dramatic as ever, you knew it. She was upset she'd been stopped from smacking the small vase off the coffee table.
"Can you just put it up?" You huff, cradling a sobbing Lilah to your shoulder, her cries fading with disinterest, distracted by something over your shoulder.
"She'll never learn." Eddie huffed, his own nerves grating with agitation. The same argument found it's way back to the two of you.
"Can't just give into her all the time."
"I'm not." You snapped, teeth grit in annoyance. "I just don't want her to get hurt. She could knock it over by accident, so just put it up."
Eddie's eye roll nearly sent you into a rage, body tensing, blood boiling at his scoff, putting the vase under the TV stand.
You waited until Lilah went to sleep that night to bring it up, angrily turning down the bed with a harsh shove. "You know, you don't have to be so condescending to me." You sneer. "I do know what I'm doing."
Eddie huffed and you could hear the eye roll in his sharp breath. "I never said you didn't-"
"-No, you just act like I don't. Like I can't possibly know what to do-"
"-When did I ever say that, hm? I never said that." Eddie growled, tone rising in irritation, fingers curling around the throw pillow, launching it in the corner of the room. "But you gotta teach her not to do shit like that. Can't just let her get away with murder."
"See?" You snap, throwing a hand out towards him. "This. This is what I'm talking about. That fucking condescending tone-"
"-Condescending? I'm not being condescending. I'm just telling you-"
"-You think I don't know? Do you seriously think I don't fucking know?" You tried to swallow the shrill in your voice, keep it down so Lilah wouldn't wake up. "I know that, Eddie. I was trying to give her a chance to make a choice. You can't just yell at her the whole time, she'll think everything she does is wrong-"
"-I didn't yell at her-"
"- Oh? You didn't? Explain to me what that was then?" Your hands find your hips, fingers digging into your cotton pajamas.
Eddie's lips twitched, pinching in a tight line. "You know I have done this before, right?" He countered. "I have raised a kid before. Did a pretty good job at it, too. I do know what I'm doing."
"So do I." You boomed, the room falling silent at your tone, filled with defensive insecurity.
Eddie's chest tightened, face falling slightly. The way your eyes cut away, lip tucking in to hide the wobble that threatened to fall, arms wrapped around yourself.
"I know what I'm doing too." The crack in your voice made his heart tear.
Eddie was unsure what to say, head swimming with panic, cursing himself for not seeing this sooner. After Lilah's birth, you'd fallen into a slump- baby blues, the doctor, Wayne, everyone had told him with a solemn but reassuring shake of their head.
"Honey," Eddie's voice softened, dropping to a nearly hushed, raspy coo. "I know you know what you're doing-"
"-So why do you talk to me like I don't?" You snap, eyes cutting with that same rage.
"I-I'm not trying to." Eddie was unsure. He didn't want to upset you any further. "But parenting is supposed to be both of us, baby-"
"-So you act like it first. Treat me like a parent for once, and not like I'm some stupid, incapable person." You huffed, snatching your pillow off the bed, stomping out of the room with a shaky huff, leaving Eddie standing with a sick, heavy feeling settled in the pit of is stomach.
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moresinfulmockingbird · 7 months
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Very excited for this blog!
I would like to request Kafka and Arlecchino breaking a captive reader and turning them into new recruits.
BREAKING A CAPTIVE | Arlecchino & Kafka
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PAIRING: Arlecchino & Kafka x Afab!Reader
WARNINGS: Smut, NSFW, Sub!Reader, Dom!Character(s), Dubcon, Corruption, Mind Break, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Crying, Begging, Strap-Use (Arlecchino), Praising (Arlecchino), Fingering (Kafka), Marking (Kafka),
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am not okay about these two. Why do they need to be so !!! Uh, I love them. Also dedicated to @teethoftheeditor.
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✧ ARLECCHINO
HEARING THE familiar sound of heels against stone dancing across the halls of the dungeon made you shake in anticipation. Fear was struck in your heart for what was to come, but there was also excitement. Excitement that grew everyday after these... sessions.
Arlecchino's eyes were predatory and cold as she peered into your cell, seeing you huddled into a corner, arms wrapped protectively around yourself. She tsked at the sight. You were still so fearful even after all this time, still holding up high walls. But she was making progress, she was just chipping away slowly, and elegantly at them.
"Up." Arlecchino's commanding voice made you flinch as she entered your cell, her heels clacking closer and closer towards you. "Did you hear me? I said, up."
You whimpered as she wrapped a hand around your arm, hoisting you up to your feet effortlessly. You squeezed your eyes closed in fear, not wanting to meet those eyes that haunted your dreams. Oh you were in far more trouble now, hiding those eyes that she dearly loved, especially when they swimmed with fear...
"Look at me." Arlecchino's voice was filled with venom, her other hand reaching up to roughly take hold of your chin, forcing your head up towards her.
You whined at the force fullness she used, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you reluctantly stared into hers. You would always be haunted by her eyes, the uniqueness of them driving you closer and closer to madness.
"Good girl." The way she mumbled that had your heart soaring, and you couldn't help but clench your thighs together, something that didn't go unnoticed by her. "Hm, does that make you excited, being called a good girl?"
There was a hint of amusement in Arlecchino's hauntingly beautiful eyes, and you couldn't stop yourself from nodding your head. She hummed approvingly, letting her tight grip on your chin loosen ever so slightly, her sharp nails scratching affectionately at your skin.
"It's been a bit since we had one of our... chats. I suppose I can't blame you for being so needy." Arlecchino muttered, eyeing the way you continued to clench your thighs together. "On your knees."
You were quick to obey her words, sinking onto your knees before her, staring up at her like a dog begging for food. Arlecchino felt her own body heating up at the sight. What right did you have to look so fucking pretty like that? She had to ruin you, and she had to do it quickly.
It didn't take long for the Knave to have you on your hands and knees, face pushed against the stone ground of your cell. You were clawing uselessly at the stone below you, seeking some sort of grip to support yourself on. It made the woman fucking her strap into you from behind laugh.
"Such a good girl, taking my cock so well." Arlecchino purred, her hands holding your hips up, sharp nails digging into your soft flesh causing you to cry out in pain as they broke your skin. You always were pretty when you bled.
"I- I c-can't!" You cried out pleadingly, trying to beg the woman to have mercy on you, to just let you rest for a minute.
"Yes you can, and you will." Arlecchino growled, her hot breath fanning the back of your neck as she leaned over your back, pressing her lips against your skin and nipping at it here and there.
With a sharp thrust from her, your body jolted and you let out a scream, your cunt throbbing in pain as you once again were forced to another orgasm. The woman didn't even bat an eye, continuing to fuck you even as you shook and cried, recovering from the intense orgasm only to be brought to another one a minute later.
So pretty like this... all ruined and crying under Arlecchino as she had her way. It was a sight she was drunk on, one she'd always dream about when she was away from you for too long. The tears running down your face made you look like an Archon in her eyes; truly a gift she was undeserving of yet here she was taking it over and over again.
By your ninth orgasm, you were nothing but whining mess. You couldn't speak, words a foreign language to you. Your mind was simply blank, focused on taking Arlecchino's strap over and over again. It was such a pleasurable torture, one you were addicted to by the time it would begin.
It was these moments that you were the perfect little pet Arlecchino wanted. One that wasn't afraid of her, but rather accepted everything she does. This is what she wanted from you, for you to be unafraid of her and be the obedient pet she wanted you to be. Just a few more of these chats.... and you'd finally fall victim to the shell of the person she wanted you to be.
✧ KAFKA
YOU LET out a whimper as the door to the room you were being held in was opened, allowing the hallway light outside to bleed into the dark room. You winced at the light, squinting your eyes as you took in the familiar silhouette in the doorway. You felt excitement and fear strike you quickly at the sight, and you began to fight against your bindings.
"Excited are we?" Kafka's voice rang through the room as she walked in, closing the door behind her, before settling her gaze back onto you. "I leave you for only a few hours and your already needy for me again?"
You whine at her words, shaking your head quickly as you try to deny her words, your voice muffled by the gag you wore. But even though you denied it, that needy feeling in your gut was prominent, telling you that not every part of you wasn't needy for her. Though you'd still deny it, you wouldn't admit such a thing to yourself. Not yet at least.
"Still acting tough?" Kafka let out a humourous chuckle, shaking her head lightly as she approached you, moving to lean down and brush her fingers against your cheek, making you flinch. "I thought you would have given in by now... guess I underestimated you, huh?"
You don't say anything, only casting your eyes away from her, making Kafka frown. She always hated when you acted like this, when you'd go quiet and not admit that you did enjoy whatever she did to you. She'd just have to force your excitement and love for it like usual, not that she minded.
"Doesn't matter anyway, I'll get you to fold sooner than later." Kafka nonchalantly stated, slightly shrugging her shoulders before leaning over to untie you from the wall.
Before you could make any sort of attempt indicating escape, Kafka's hand was firmly wrapped around your arm, keeping you in place. She gave you a look of warning before dragging you towards the bed that she purposely had placed in your bland room. You knew what was coming, and this time you didn't put up a fight.
You were a moaning mess in mere minutes, back arching off the bed as Kafka thrusted her fingers in and out of you. You were already soaked by the time she had tore your underwear off, giving her no need to prep you with her fingers. You hated the fact that you were already wet for her, but your body was already a prisoner to her, it was just time for your mind to fall as well.
"So pretty, and all for me." Kafka hummed, her lips gracing over your neck, kissing gently at the fresh marks she left moments ago. "Aeons your irresistible."
You bit onto your gag, trying to suppress some of your sounds, but it was really just useless, and the moans and whines leaving your mouth were evidence of that. Kafka chuckled at your pathetic attempts, moving her head away from your neck and gazing down at you with amusement.
"Trying to contain your sounds is just futile, sweetheart." Kafka purs, and to get her point across she flexes her fingers up, hitting that special spot inside you and earning a loud cry from you. "See? Pointless."
You could feel the tears beginning to burn at your eyes, slipping down your face as your body flailed about under Kafka's touch. Her thumb was increasingly pushing down on your swollen clit, while three fingers spread you wide open, continously moving in and out. The stimulation on your cunt was beginning to get to your head, and any sensible thoughts tjat you had left, were quickly beginning to disappear.
"I wanna hear you beg," Kafka muttered, reaching her free hand up to tug your gag down to your neck, letting you suck in a gasping breath. "Be a good girl and beg for me. You'll be rewarded, I promise, if you do."
"S'to much!" You gasped, choking on moans and whines as you looked pleadingly up at the woman. "S'becoming to much! I- I can't- I can't hold-"
"You can handle it." Kafka stated, not paying attention to your useless pleas. Even if it was actually to much, she wasn't going to stop until she was satisfied. "Hold on just a bit longer, m'kay? Just beg a little more for me."
She was pushing you to your breaking point, you knew that, but you were at the point of just giving in to her. Your fighting was useless up to this point, and would letting Kafka use you whenever she pleases really be a bad thing? Your mind didn't think so.
"Please l-let me cum, I can't-" You let out a strangled moan, back arching off the bed again, pushing your hips harder against Kafka's hand, trying to sink her fingers in deeper. "I need to cum!"
"You need to cum?" Kafka repeated, her voice quiet as she moved to kiss against your ear, her smile evident against your skin. "So then cum. Cum for me, sweetheart."
It was like she pressed a button, because as soon as the words left her mouth, you froze, crying out loudly and body jolting as you let go. Kafka slowed down her thrusts as she felt your cum coat her hand. She hummed in satisfaction as you came, nuzzling her face into your neck.
It was you finished, laying breathlessly under her with a dazed look in your eyes, Kafka knew. She knew you were finally her's, and she was going to drink this up till you were absolutely nothing. Just how she wanted you to be.
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ENDING NOTES: The way I wouldn't 100% mind giving control to these two...
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blueicequeen19 · 1 year
Text
Wicked Step Brother Pt. 2
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Warnings: Non-Con, drugging, drugs, alcohol, unprotected sex, recording, anal, stepcest, cheating
Part One
You got home that night to find Ward and your mother gone for the weekend and a party in full swing. It was typical Rafe Camerson behavior. He couldn’t be trusted no matter what. No wonder he was always in trouble with his dad.
There were cars and party goers everywhere. Drugs and booze scattered across every surface of the mansion. You should've left the moment you couldn't pull into the driveway but you didn't. Curiosity got the best of you.
You told yourself you wanted to see if your boyfriend had brought someone when really, you wanted to see if Rafe was with someone. You shouldn't care about what your step brother does but you do. You don't spot him until it's too late. Not until he'd already advancing on you from across the patio.
You turn and run back inside, making a beeline to the front door with Rafe hot on your heels. The door knob meets your hand just as a strong arm wraps around your waist, hauling you back.
"Where are you going, lil sis? Don't want to play?" Rafe growls in your ear, his bare chest burns against your skin and his cock hard against your ass through his thin swim trunks. You feel your panties grow wet just from him being near you.
"Let go of me." You snarl, tearing at the arm banded around your middle.
"Don't cause a scene and I won't." Rafe warns before releasing you. You step away and face him, your eyes lingering on some of the nearby party goers but they don't even spare you a glimpse. Everyone was too high or drunk to notice the tension between you and your step brother and somehow that was worse. You were on your own.
"Where were you going in such a hurry?" Rafe's voice draws your attention back to him and you take a careful step back, glancing at the blue mixed drink in his hand.
"I'm not staying here tonight." You snap. His face hardens as he matches your steps.
"You are."
"Or what?"
Rafe leans in dangerously close and your heart threatens to burst in your chest.
"Or I'll tell your boyfriend you're a squirter." Rafe's low, husky voice meets your ears and you bite back a whimper, your clit pulsing. The only reason Rafe knew you were a squirter was because he liked to finger fuck you until you cried and begged him to stop. It was his new favorite thing once he realized your boyfriend had never achieved it. Rafe was a sadistic fuck like that. You look at his drink again, debating knocking it from his hand when he offers it to you with a wicked grin.
"Here, this will help mellow you out." You glare daggers up at him. He could force you to stay but you didn't have to follow his every command.
"No."
Rafe's nostrils flare, his eyes flashing with anger before he firmly grabs your arm, yanking you against him. Some people thought that the drugs and drinking mellowed Rafe out but you knew better. It only released the beast he was so careful to keep locked away until it was directed at you.
"Drink it or I'll force you down on your knees in front of everyone and pour it down your throat. Then you'll lick up the mess you made before I stuff my cock down your throat." Rafe's growl shakes you to your core, fear of humiliation being the only thing that guides you when you finally take the mixed drink.
"I hate you." You sniffle, bringing the drink to your nose and trying to detect what liquor was in it.
"Tell your pussy that." Rafe winks. You ignore him as you bring the drink to your lips and taste the bite of something fruity mixed with tequila. Your belly pooled with heat immediately and you were alarmed at how good it actually tasted. You took another drink before realizing that your body was starting to relax and your anxiety had dissolved. All the background noise in your head had gone silent. Your heartbeat had slowed and you seemed able to breathe a little better. Your eyes widen as you realize what has happened. He drugged you.
"Good, isn't it?" Rafe smirks, taking the drink from you before you can throw it in his face.
"You son of a bitch." You pant but there's no anger, just calm. You could almost cry. You wanted to be mad and lash out but you couldn't. You felt too good. Really fucking good. Your skin was buzzing, your pussy throbbing, and your nipples painfully hard. Rafe's knowing smirk only grows as he leads you from the room and up the stairs.
"Rafe." You try to pry his hand off but you can't. Your skin was electrified where he touched you. It felt so good that you suddenly wanted him to touch you everywhere.
"We're almost there." Rafe says, hauling you up another set of stairs to his bedroom. Your pussy throbbed so rapidly between your legs that your knees threatened to buckle. You needed relief. You were dying.
You must've stopped walking because Rafe suddenly scoops you up into his arms and your arms immediately go around his neck. Your hands start to move on their own, fingers dancing along his neck and chest and his back. You feel goosebumps arise on his skin but you can't stop. His skin was so soft and his muscles so hard. Rafe really was a beautiful monster.
“I bet you’re feeling really good right about now.” Rafe whispers in your ear as he carries you.
Your back meets a bed and you're suddenly too hot. The soft comforter felt so good against your skin, relaxing even. You moan, quickly unbuttoning your uniform blouse and yanking it off. That felt better. You don’t know where Rafe went but you don’t care. You just needed a release. The pulsing in your clit was too much so you widen your legs and reach under your skirt, letting your fingers find your soaked panties. You moan again, rolling your hips to meet your hand as you start to massage your clit.
You were so wet that your panties were stuck to you and your thighs were slick. You couldn’t stop as you all but ripped your panties to the side and plunged two fingers inside yourself. The moan that left you would make a pornstar blush but you couldn’t help it. You were so hot and needy. You wanted to be fucked and you didn’t care who gave it to you.
Suddenly your hand is yanked free and a naked body is on top of yours. Your eyes pop open to stare at Rafe. You don’t get to complain because he kisses you hard, grinding his cock against your pussy. Your nails dig into his back as you kiss him back, lifting your hips to meet every thrust.
“Rafe.” You beg against his lips, feeling shove your skirt up your waist then squeezing your breasts.
“What do you want, baby?” Rafe taunts against your lips, his fingers tweaking your nipples. Every touch had your body electrified and jerking against him.
“Rafe, please.” You cry, reaching between your bodies but he rears his hips back just as you grasp his cock.
“Beg me. Beg me to fuck your tight little pussy and make you feel better.” He growls in your ear, his hand moving to cup your pussy. You buck against his hand, desperate tears in your eyes.
“Please, fuck me, Rafe. Please.” He smiles before kissing you hard, his cock finding your slit and he starts to nudge your clit. You moaned loudly, aching to have him inside you. Rafe pulls back long enough to tear your panties clean off then he’s flipping you over on your hands and knees, pulling your ass back as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Smile pretty.” Huh? His words throw you off for a split second before he brutally slams inside your soaked pussy. You all but scream in relief, your face dropping down to the comforter as he starts to snap his hips against your ass. The headboard starts to slap the wall and his grip on your hips stings but you’re too far gone to care. It’s like you’re not in your body anymore, all logic goes out the window as nothing becomes more important than your release.
“Yes, yes, please, yes.” You chant, your face pushed further into the blankets when he wretches your arms behind your back.
“Such a greedy little whore.” Rafe shoves you down flat on the bed, forcing your legs together as he straddles you. You scream into the blankets, fisting them until your nails threaten to tear through as he delivers thrust after brutal thrust.
His thumb suddenly presses inside your virgin puckered hole and your body tenses up, your toes curling as your orgasm violently hits you. It steals your ability to breathe as it wrecks you from the inside out. The drugs only heightened the affects and your vision goes black for what feels like minutes. Rafe curses, your pussy no doubt clamping down painfully around his cock. It takes you a moment to return to your body and you become painfully aware that Rafe is fucking both your holes with his thumb and his cock. It feels foreign and dirty but before you can tell him to stop, he cups your throat with his free hand, cutting off any words you might’ve had and throwing you into another otherworldly orgasm.
“You like that? You like having both your holes fucked by me?” Rafe growls, releasing his hold on your throat and you cough, burying your face in the bed.
“Rafe, please, I can’t take it.” You cry, overstimulation bringing tears to your eyes but you swear you could cum again.
“You can and you will. We’re not leaving this room until I’m done with you.” Rafe slips out for a moment, offering you a tiny bit of relief but also a painful emptiness. Your eyes widen alarmingly when cold liquid drips between your cheeks. You start to roll over but he’s quickly there, straddling you again with a firm hand in the center of your back.
“Rafe!” You shout, your protests falling on deaf ears. The tip of his cock suddenly penetrates your ass, causing a terrible burning feeling. You push back until his breath hits your ear, his hand around your throat as he slides in further.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay. You can take it. You can take all of me, just like I’m going to take all of you. Rub your clit, I promise you’ll like this.” He nibbles your earlobe, making you shudder while you quickly dive your hand between your legs. Your fingers craze your clit and you tense up, a whimper falling from your lips as you feel split in two.
“Relax, sis, I’m not even half way.” You feel his hands spread your ass cheeks then you hear him spit. You’re humiliated and grossed out but you can’t protest when he starts to rock back and forth, your fingers still stroking your clit. The pleasure almost blinds you. It’s intense and painful but the building euphoria only eggs you on. You wanted more so you start moving your hips with him.
“That’s my girl. I’m going to fill this ass up with my cum. You’re not going to be able to walk or sit down for a fucking week.” Rafe’s feral growl meets your ears and when he bites your shoulder, you’re done for. The orgasm is more powerful than anything you’ve ever felt, tears flow freely as he fucks you harder and harder to his own release.
Finally, when you’re on the verge of passing out, Rafe slows to a stop and slips from inside you. You whimper, unable to move or open your eyes. You feel him get off the bed then you hear the sound of running water in his bathroom then he’s back, gently cleaning you up. You turn your head, your eyes barely open when you see what he’s holding in his other hand.
“The fuck are you doing?” You growl, quickly rolling over and yanking the blanket over your sore naked body. Rafe smiles, his phone still aimed at you like he’s recording.
“Owning your ass in more ways than one. I told you to smile pretty. Say hi!”
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vampcubus · 8 months
Note
hii ashi ive got a fun little thought for u
imgagine kyojuro, despite how strong he is, can never ride you for more than a few minutes. kyo always tries his best, but his legs always get so shakey and sore everytime by how overwhelming it is, that you have to help him fuck himself on your strap :((
bell u are a godsend i haven't been able to get this idea out of my mind since u sent it and now that i have coherent thoughts...
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!kyojuro, dom!reader, pegging, master kink, overstimulation, long orgasm, not proofread.
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Kyojuro's trained to have incredible stamina, but it's like it all goes away and his legs turn to jelly when he's bottoming. He tries so hard to keep going, to keep bouncing on your cock but his legs are shaking and he lets out a frustrated whine. He slows down, looking about ready to cry when his orgasm slips out of his grasp.
"Aw, do you need help, baby?" you purr, watching him struggle with half-lidded eyes, amusement glinting in them. He was so cute it wasn't fair really, his steadily bouncing cock especially, which flops neglected against his belly with each pitiful thrust.
"Please help me. I'm sorry I can't do it myself any longer," he sobs, and you only croon, sitting up so you can adjust him, slipping your hands underneath his ass so you can spread him open and start to bounce him up and down on you. You thrust up into him and the head catches on a spot that makes him squeal, clinging onto you and slurring grateful open-mouthed kisses across your neck and shoulder. "Thank you! ohh thank you, master!"
"S'ok, master's got you. You don't gotta lift a finger. Let me do all the work. It's okay," you pant, a satisfying ache settling in your abdominals as you fuck up into him and press his hips down at the same time. He's all but howling with pleasure, lips sucking marks into the tender flesh of your throat. "There's a good boy."
He moans aloud at your praise, golden eyes rolling back as he loses himself to the pleasant scrape of the toy against his sensitive inner walls. You're practically abusing his prostate, fucking the sense right out of his muscled yet soft body. God he's so handsome, and burly, yet he falls apart and arches for you so prettily.
"Feels so good, m-master. Fffuck! Fuck, I feel so good!" Kyojuro wails, hand shooting to his cock to stroke it. You let him, eager to watch him unravel for you. "I-I'm gonna c-cum soon! Please, please may I cum?"
"Mhm, let it all out baby. Look at me while you cum all over my cock, yeah?" He tears himself away from your neck, teary honey and rose-colored eyes swimming with overwhelmed tears.
You fuck up into him harder at the sight, growling in delight and his hand speeds up on his cock. His dewy lashes flutter, fighting the urge to close. He wants to obey you, to be good for you. The knot in his belly finally snaps and he shouts in alarm as cum spills out of him, painting your stomach with seed as he thrashes and wails.
You bounce his body up and down on you through his orgasm, and he sobs, overstimulated. He stares at you with a desperate look, trembling as he continues to convulse and spurt for longer than he usually would.
"Oh gods! Oh gods! Unhh I-I can't stop cumming. O-oh fuck!" Kyojuro cries helplessly, though his hand keeps milking his own cock, the slippery, frantic movement making an obscene squelching sound.
"Shhh, just let it all out, sweetheart," you comforted, nudging his hand away from his sticky cock to replace it with your own. He flinches when you stroke him with a tight fist, wringing more cum out of him.
"A-ah okay, master. mhhh ahh!" he finally stops erupting, slumping against you with his head on your shoulder, exhausted and twitching like mad. You affectionately thumb at his tip a while longer as he softens in your grasp, before heeding his whimpers of 'no more.' and 'too sensitive.'
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