#ALL THESE TWO HAVE BEEN THROUGH IS PAIN AND STRUGGLE TO BE TOGETHER WHY DID THEY KILL HIM OH MY GODDDDDDDDD

[yanderejustforyou]

Give It All

dean x reader

You could feel the tension between you and Dean grow with every passing moment. It wasn’t something you could ignore anymore. The long nights of hunting, the quiet moments after a fight, the look in his eyes that he didn’t want you to see—but you saw it anyway. You always did.

Dean Winchester had a way of keeping everything inside, holding back emotions, hiding behind that cocky smirk and tough-guy persona. But you knew him better than anyone. You had spent enough time by his side, faced enough dangers together, to understand that there was a storm raging inside him—a storm he tried to hide from the world, but especially from you.

Tonight was no different. You had just finished cleaning up after a hunt, the sounds of metal clanging against metal filling the room as you worked in silence. Dean sat at the table, a bottle of beer in his hand, his eyes far away, lost in thoughts you knew were darker than he let on.

You didn’t know what it was, but something inside you snapped. You had been patient, too patient, waiting for him to see you—really see you—and tell you what you had been waiting to hear. But he hadn’t. And you were starting to lose your patience.

You set the knife down with a sharp clink, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

"Dean," you called out, your voice quieter than you intended, but still loud enough to break the silence. He didn’t look up at first, and for a moment, you almost regretted speaking.

But then he sighed, a tired, frustrated sound. His eyes flickered to you, and you saw that familiar guarded look, the one he always wore when he was trying to keep you at arm’s length. "What’s up?" he asked, like he wasn’t already aware of everything you were about to say.

"You know what’s up," you shot back, your voice sharper now, more desperate than you had intended. You didn’t even try to mask the frustration in your words. "You’ve been pushing me away for months now, Dean. I don’t know what more you want from me."

His gaze hardened slightly, but you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. "I’m not pushing you away, alright?" He stood up from the table, running a hand through his messy hair, but it didn’t fool you. You knew this routine by heart.

"No?" you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "Then why do I feel like I’m just another person on your list of things to ignore? Why do I feel like you don’t see me, Dean? I’ve given you everything I have, every part of me. And for what? So you can keep pretending I don’t matter?"

Dean’s expression faltered for just a second, a flicker of pain crossing his face before he quickly masked it again. But it was enough to make your heart ache.

"You matter," he muttered under his breath, but you didn’t let him off the hook that easily.

"No, Dean, I don’t." Your voice was tight, tears stinging the back of your eyes. "You don’t let me in. You never do. And I keep asking myself—how much more do I have to give before you love me? How much more do I have to sacrifice before I’m enough for you?"

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and you could see him struggle to find his voice. The silence stretched between you two, heavy and suffocating, and for a moment, you thought he might walk away, like he always did when things got too real.

But this time, he didn’t. Instead, he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The space between you was narrow, but the distance he kept between his heart and yours felt like an entire ocean.

"I don’t know how to love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were so tired, so worn down, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of something in him you hadn’t expected—vulnerability. Real, raw vulnerability that you knew had been buried under years of pain and fear.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him, your heart aching for him in a way you didn’t even know you were capable of. He wasn’t perfect—he was broken, just like you—but you loved him anyway.

"You don’t have to know," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "You just have to try. I’ve been trying, Dean. I’ve been trying for so long to be here for you. But you push me away every time. And I don’t know how much more I can take. I just need to know that you want this, too."

Dean closed his eyes, like he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore, like he was ashamed. But he didn’t move. His chest rose and fell with every labored breath, and when he finally opened his eyes again, you could see the storm in them.

"I do want this," he said, his voice rough. "I’m just scared… of losing you. I’m scared that if I let myself love you, I’ll ruin everything. I don’t deserve you. And I don’t know how to be what you need."

The words hit you harder than anything else. Dean, the man who had been through hell and back, the man who had faced down monsters and demons, was scared. Scared of you.

You reached out, your hand trembling as you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing across his skin gently. "You don’t have to be perfect," you said softly. "You just have to let me in. That’s all I need. All I want."

Dean’s eyes searched yours for a long moment, the silence between you heavy with the weight of unspoken words. And then, slowly, as if it took every ounce of courage he had left, he leaned into your touch. He didn’t pull away.

[theleafling]

I am actually SICK at this parallel of margo and sergei both getting ready to eat burgers, and then sergei goes to eat his and gets fucking shot in the head, and margo goes along and eats hers and has no fucking idea, just smiling and eating and thinking about sergei's plan for them to go to brazil together. I am sick.

[gojoest]

curiosity — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, childhood friends to lovers, satoru is painfully aware of his own feelings while reader is not, mention of past girlfriends (and how they all looked like you), handjob (m! receiving), cumming in pants (and in your hand), not proofread, wc: 2k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

synopsis: gojo satoru is your childhood best friend. you’ve been inseparable ever since you were little. spending day and night together, you’d often have sleepovers together — a tradition you both carried on throughout your college years. at least once a week you’d drop by his dorm room and stay the night, or vice versa. but compared to your childhood days, you no longer share one bed. that is, until . . .

part 2

a/n: this is a further (and very lousy) elaboration on this post of mine but hey, HAPPY BDAY TO MY ONE AND ONLY

“i think we should try sleeping together”, you suggest one night.

“wah—“, satoru gasps, a teasing glint in his eyes. “didn’t know you felt that way about me”, he smirks.

“just sleeping”, you quickly clarify. “whatever obscene thing you just thought of — it’s not that”, you add, giving him a roll of your eyes.

“you should pick your words more wisely”, he scoffs. “if you go around telling people you want to sleep with them, they will misunderstand”

“ugh”, you huff, “i obviously didn’t mean it like that, and you know it”

“yeah, i do”, he lets out a soft chuckle. he knew exactly what you meant, but still he disguised his wishful thinking behind a teasing remark. “why though? all of a sudden?”

“dunno”, you shrug. “just feeling bad that you always take the floor”

“if that’s the case we can just swap”

“no — i cherish my comfort. come on, we used to do this all the time”, you pout.

indeed you did. but you were kids back then, things were different.

his heartbeat would race and his face would get all hot and red, the heat would fester through his entire body. but when the lights were off it was easy to hide it, the signs that he liked you. after making sure you were fast asleep, he would hold your hand and childishly smile to himself, he would peck it softly, secretly. one time you woke up in the middle of the night and almost caught him but he, startled, kicked you off the bed. yelling at you, lying, how you pushed your finger in his nostril in your sleep… he was so embarrassed, but also relieved you believed what he said was true. his secret was safe.

but now?

when you stand too close to him his body starts acting up in more mature ways. while he is better at controlling his facial expressions now and hiding his nervous heartbeat behind a nonchalant attitude, he struggles with keeping his urges at bay. he’s no longer the boy that blushes while secretly holding your hand; he is a man who craves you.

even when he’s laid on the futon beside the bed you occupy, the sound of your breathing alone gets him hard. you lie there, sleeping innocently, unaware of how much of a pain in the crotch you are being to him. when you leave in the mornings, he climbs onto the bed that is soaked with your scent and shamelessly jerks off. he stands on his knees and sprays his load on the bedsheets. eyes shut close, he pictures you beneath him.

he sighs in defeat. “fine”

“the right side is mine — it’s only natural, because i am always right”, you snicker and quickly pad over to the bed, plopping your body down on the mattress. “sure”, he chuckles and follows after you, sinking himself right next to you.

it is a bit awkward, you must admit. you are laid on your sides facing each other, in silence.

it’s cramped indeed, your knees are brushing against his and the space in the middle separating your bodies from one another is very scarce. but that was to be expected, the beds in the dorm rooms were designed for one person after all.

“so”, you break the silence. “how’s your girlfriend doing?”

“she’s not my girlfriend, anymore”, he states dryly.

“but it’s been barely two weeks since you started dating”

“well, things didn’t work out i guess”

the girls he dated, all of them looked a bit like you. same height, same hair color and length. similar facial features… he never lasted long with any of them though. all of them, visibly bothered by your presence in his life, would too soon ask him to make a choice — either them or you. neither of them aware that he chose to be with them in the first place only because they reminded him of you, and that it was never the question itself that drove him away from them. it was bound to happen, sooner or later. they could never be you.

you hum. “i see”

as you shift to make yourself more comfortable, you feel the shirt he gave you to wear to bed roll up ever so slightly, revealing the bare of your belly. a bit self-conscious now that he’s next to you, you are immediately urged to cover yourself. you slide a hand under the blanket, rummaging around to get a hold of the hem, but oh...

…the back of your hand brushes against something stiff. the friction incurring a low pant from the man, your best friend, next to you.

“fuck”, satoru hisses. his hand clasps around your wrist, pushing it away, but along with the movement his knuckles graze the flesh of your stomach. “fuck”, he curses again.

“satoru”, you say his name, voice hushed and timid but there is a note of underlying curiosity he is way too familiar with.

this is exactly why he was avoiding the one bed scenario — his boners were too hard to hide at this age and this size of him.

“satoru”, you repeat. “are you hard?”

“i wish you didn’t ask the obvious”, he mumbles, embarrassed. warmth washing over his face uncontrollably, just like in the past. but there was a bigger problem now — down in his pants, and the fact he got caught.

“is it because of me?”

“no”, he clicks his tongue, his grip still tight around your wrist, keeping your hand at bay. “it’s because i didn’t jerk off tonight, you know — it’s a natural thing for us men to randomly pop a boner throughout the day”

…which was true. but it was not the case right now.

“can i play with it a little?”, you ask, sneakily twisting your wrist in an attempt to free your hand.

“oi!”, he yelps. “did you hit you head or what?”

“i am curious”, you blurt out. “just a little?”

“stop”, he warns. “it’s weird”

his resolve is hanging by a thread right now, you’re too cunning to tempt him like this. he knows things will get awfully messy between you if he lets you cross this line. but still, he can’t flat out deny you. deep down he wants you to persist, a little bit more… if you ask him one more time, maybe he’ll crumble. surely, he will.

“it’s not”, you reassure. “i won’t jerk you off, i’ll just touch it”, you explain. “please? just a little?”

well. fuck it.

“this is a bad idea”, he says, but loosens his grip around your wrist. “fine”, he mumbles. “but just a little”

you nod, pulling your hand away only to slide it down his body.

you’re not really sure why you were so happy to hear the news about his break-up, but you always felt more at ease when he belonged just to you. your best friend, and not someone else’s boyfriend. you don’t know why you were doing this right now, or why your heart was racing. maybe because it really was weird? or maybe you were just horny?

finding his cock wasn’t difficult, it sure stood out from the rest of his body.

“you really are hard”, you gasp, running your fingers across the bulge in his shorts, dragging out a throaty groan out of him.

“yeah”, he mumbles. “like i said, stop stating the obvious”

“it’s a bit wet here”, ignoring his words, you thumb the spot where his tip is, making him squirm. his body slightly jerks as you press your palm against it. cupping it inside your hand you squeezing it gently. “it’s warm too”, you keep exploring further. “it has a pulse”

satoru lets out a helpless whine. “you sound so dirty right now, it’s weird”

he’s longed for this type of intimacy with you for years. but in his head, he pictured it differently. it was him who was supposed to do things to you, not the other way around. he was supposed to be the confident one, delving into your layers, making you squirm and fall apart under his touch. not the other way around… but this was good too. too good for him to oppose it. you were his weakness, after all. you always have been. no matter how much he teased and picked on you, in the end he always let you do as you pleased. this was not an exception.

you giggle to yourself. “yeah? you like that new side of me, don’t you?”

“…maybe”

sneaking your hand through the front of his shorts and boxers, you feel the flesh of his cock directly. it was twitching, his tip slick with precum. you put the tip of your index finger on his slit and rub circles around it to smear the pre oozing out of it, getting another soft whimper out of him. the head of his cock all slippery now, urging you to rub it all over the rest of his length.

your fingers wrap around his cock as you start to move your hand up and down, slowly, smearing his own slick onto his own flesh.

he tries to swallow the moan stuck in his throat. “you said you were not going to jerk me off, but what now? you’re playing a bit too much, don’t you think?”

satoru can last long. under normal circumstances, that is. but having you — not just his hand, but you, his first ever love, his only love — touch him like that, he could barely hold back. the urge to bust has been there since the moment you put your hand on his cock.

“why? you gonna cum?”, you slip your hand lower, down to the base of his shaft — where his balls are. you caress them tenderly, incurring yet another soft groan from him, before you go back to stroking him again. with each drag you pick up the pace. the room is filled with the squelching sounds caused by your hand, at this point, confidently fisting his slick covered cock, and his heavy breathing. 

“hey”, he puts his hand on your cheek, softly pinching on it with his fingertips. an attempt to make you snap out of it, but alas — you don’t back away. “don’t regret this”, he whispers, almost beggingly. but his voice comes out too shallow for your ears to pick up on.

“are you close?”, you peek at him, watching his face with rapt fascination, grateful that you left the night lamp on.

never have you ever seen him like this. his cheeks so hot and flushed that his pale skin was lit completely red, up to his ears and his neck. beads of sweat across his forehead with strands of his hair stuck on it. mouth agape — huffing and puffing. his brows knitted, desperately. pleadingly. his mouth telling you to stop, yet his face told a different story. so did the part of him inside your palm. it made you throb, down there, and squeeze your thighs together. your own wetness spurting out from your slit, drenching the inside of your underwear”

“fuck—", he growls. “i am— c-close”, he stutters, struggling to control his breathing and the moans that roll out of his mouth.

you feel his cock twitch in your hand, differently. the pulse on it beating faster and more brashly, like it almost made his skin stretch and push against the flesh of your palm. and then, there was a delay. a few, very short seconds in which his cock stood still before violently exploding, pumping out a thick shot of cum. then some more, and more, and more — until the pouring turned into a light dribble toward the end.

“ugh”, he throatily groans, his body relaxing after oozing all the tension out. although slower now, you keep stroking him, running your fingers across his softening cock.

“oh wow”, you gasp, his cum sticky on your skin, drenching the space between your fingers. “what a mess”, you giggle.

“you’re trouble”, he sighs. “is your curiosity satisfied now?”

you nod.

“if you get curious about other things”, he pauses, scratching the back of his head, “come to me. don’t go to other men”

“i’ll think about it”, you smirk.

after that night, you stayed over for an entire week.

this little play time turned into routine, and you were no longer the only one playing.

[chuluoyi]

i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ ���️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

[tragedybunny]

My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.

“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.

There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.

Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.

“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.

“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.

“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.

“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”

The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.

Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.

With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."

It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.

The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.

"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.

“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.

An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.

“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.

Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.

That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”

A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.

“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Astarion…”

He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”

Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.

“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”

“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”

With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭

Finders, Keepers.

16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates

Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 1185

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

The Roommate Collection.

Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.

It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.

He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.

He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.

You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.

"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"

Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.

"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."

You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.

You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.

Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.

"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"

"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."

"Waffles it is."

Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.

"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.

The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.

"Is that my shirt?"

You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."

"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."

You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.

"Are you... alright, Carmy?"

"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."

"... like what?"

"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."

He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.

He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.

"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.

"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."

You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.

Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.

He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.

As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.

"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."

You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.

"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?

You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.

"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."

You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.

"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.

"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.

"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"

[steddieas-shegoes]

AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I'm having a shit day, I need Quinn to fix it

Please and thanks

Rain, rain, go away, come again...when you didn't have a hundred errands to run and were short on time to do them. Naturally, it would pour the entire time you were out and about, and your umbrella had decided to break the first time you went to use it. It really set the tone for the rest of the day; a terrible foreshadowing you had hoped wouldn't be the case.

The only reason you were out running those errands in the first place was because you had taken the day off to make sure everything was nice for when Quinn got back home. You knew he was going to be exhausted after finishing another six straight games on the road. Plus, you wanted to enjoy the evening with him knowing nothing would be looming in the back of your mind that would take away from your time together. However, since the minute you got up it was like everything was stacked against you. You had slept through your alarm, getting up almost two hours later than you had intended. You thought you had plugged in your phone but hadn't make a proper connection so your battery was at 12% to start the day. And to add insult to injury (literally), you had dropped a glass while in the kitchen and had cut your hand while trying to pick up the pieces.

Today was proving to be one of those days that were best spent at home, but unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case for you. By this point, your phone was now sitting at 6%, because you realized, after you had left the parking garage, that the charger you left in your car was in Quinn's. You just hoped it would hold on long enough to get you home.

You would be stopped at a red light, mid rush hour, when a message would ding in. It was Quinn and the dreaded text you didn't want to come across your phone until you were already back at his apartment.

"Hey baby, we just touched down. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I might not be there when you get home. Stuck in traffic. </3 I love you, too. <3 <3 Also, phone is about dead. >:("

"Just be careful. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

- - -

Getting everything out of the car had been hard enough, but carrying them with your cut palm was the worst. Being half asleep and dealing with broken glass was not a good combination, something you would note for the future. Sure, you couldn't have texted Quinn to see if he would help you, which you knew he would have, but you were determined to get it done yourself.

When you stepped into the elevator, from the parking garage, all you could think of was "please don't break down. I do not want to walk up the stairs. I do not want to be trapped in an elevator with a dead phone." Thinking it was a bad idea to put such thoughts into the Universe, you'd just count floors instead until you reached Quinn's.

It was a struggle to unlock the door but you had managed though your hand was burning and you were pretty sure you were bleeding again. Just something else that would get tended to later. Once inside, you'd drop everything at the door and Quinn would come from the bedroom to greet you.

"Oh sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I would have helped you with all of this." He wrapped his arms around you and you melt into his body. "I have missed you so much."

"I'm so glad you're home." All of a sudden and without warning, you begin to cry. Likely a culmination of trash sleep, stress, no food, and pain. Your body and emotions were just fried; not to mention you hated when he was gone for so long.

"What's wrong, baby?" Quinn would say softly, gently tightening his hold on you. "Are you alright?" Anytime you were having a rough day, he was the first person to notice and always did everything he could to make you feel better.

"No," you said, hiding your face in his neck. You weren't ready to have him see how much you were struggling.

"Why don't you go sit, hmm? I'll get this."

"I wanted to have everything done for you but today has been awful."

Quinn pulls away from you just enough to tip your chin up towards his face. You can't escape him now and the look on your face makes his puppy eyes heavy with emotion. "Oh, baby~"

He kisses you several times, each one of them sweeter than the last, yet the tears still continue to fall from your cheeks. "Come on, this stuff can wait."

Taking your non-bandaged hand, he ushers you to the sofa where he insists you sit in his lap so you can be as close to him as possible. You loved moments like these just on better circumstances than today had given you.

"Baby, you're bleeding. What happened?"

You had reached up to brush some hair from your eyes when he caught sight of the bandage now tinged bright red in the center. You dropped your hand to your leg and shook your head. "It's nothing. Just a clumsy accident."

"Let me see."

You refuse, sniffling and trying to hold back the welling tears.

"Please?"

Damn those eyes of his; damn the tone of his voice that just took your breath away. You could never truly tell him no and this was no different. You'd turn your palm upwards when you presented it to him, scared it was worse that you thought it was initially.

"May I look at it?"

You just nod, before laying your head against his shoulder. You didn't want to see it and you knew him pulling back the adhesive of the bandage was going to hurt, even though he had the softest touch.

Quinn was always so careful with you; always asking for permission especially if it would potentially cause you pain. Slowly he'd remove the bandage and you would wince against the discomfort even though he did everything he could to make it easy on you. "How did this happen?"

Quinn's tone conveyed deep worry and hurt and that didn't give you the reassurance you were hoping for.

"This morning. I got up late, and was half asleep taking my vitamins and I guess my hand just stopped working and I dropped it. It shattered everywhere. I didn't realize I had grabbed the raw edge until it was too late and I cut myself."

"Oh sweetheart," Quinn whispered laying his head against yours. "Want me to fix you up?"

"I'll get it."

"Please?"

Twice now, he had used that word with (that) tone, and twice now you would fold without another chance to resist. Again, you would silently nod, letting him slip out from under you while he disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. You remembered how you had left it and it made you feel worse, but when he returned, the only thing that mattered to him was making sure you were alright.

"You said today was awful, how come?" He talked to you while he worked so to keep you from focusing solely on your hand and the pain. Everything he did was so thoughtful.

"I stayed up too late watching The First 48, then I slept through my alarms this morning, so I was two hours behind. I guess I hadn't clicked my charger into my phone fully so it didn't charge. I dropped the glass. I didn't get the apartment cleaned. I didn't get the laundry put away. I forgot my charger was in your car. My umbrella broke." With each added reason for the bad day it made you more emotional to the point that he had to stop cleaning the cut to lay a hand on your leg and try to calm you.

"Shhh, baby, baby, it's okay. None of that matters now. I didn't expect you to be waiting for me at the door. I'm just glad you're here now, but I'm sorry you had such a hard day. The apartment is fine, please, don't worry about it."

"But...I left the bathroom~"

"I don't care about it. Honest. I want you to feel welcome here; I want it to be your home. Home should feel lived in." Quinn leaned forward to kiss you yet you frown. You still felt so bad for everything not being done like you wanted it to be. "If you're here, that's all I want."

"You're so nice," you squeak out, hiding your face with your free hand. You don't realize you were breaking his heart, feeling so bad about missing your self-imposed marks.

"Sweetheart, will you look at me, please?"

Dropping your hand, you let your eyes be exposed though you keep it pressed to your lips.

"You're the only thing I care about when I'm here. If you're okay, I'm okay."

"But I'm not okay."

"And I'm not either. May I finish this for you?" His smile was so sweet, so heartfelt as he held your injured hand in both of his. When you answered "yes, please" Quinn brought it to his lips before finishing what he had started. With each new step of the process, he'd check in with you before continuing. He didn't feel that you had any glass in the wound or that you needed stitches, but he didn't want you to do too much the next few days.

"Alright, babe, all done."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for you," his smile continues. "How about you go change your clothes, get into something comfortable and we'll have a lazy evening in bed. I'll get the groceries put away and we'll order take out. How's that?"

"Do you want some help?"

"No babe, I can get it. It won't take me that long, but thank you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"

"Okay." You give him a kiss as a thank you, later apologizing for your mild breakdown earlier.

"It's alright. You're only human, sweetheart and you had a bad day. I can't say I'd do much better. I'd never judge you for anything like that," Quinn replies, holding your face for another kiss. "I promise."

[wild-rise]

Sunshine

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut MDNI 18+

Summary: After a stressful day and years of animosity between you and Daryl the dynamics of your power struggle finally gets resolved. Safe to say you're finally put in your place.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Reader is a brat, Soft!Dom Daryl, Kinda mean Daryl, Teasing, Oral (M!receiving) Face F!cking, Binding (Readers wrists), Dirty Talk, Pervy Daryl, Thigh Riding, Just the t!p, P in V penetration, unprotected (Wrap it before you tap it folks), creampie. I think that's it...

“How ‘bout runnin’ that by me one more time sunshine?” Daryl gruffs out cocking his head to you making sure he wasn’t going crazy because there’s no way in hell you just said what he thinks you did.

“Your hearing going out now Dixon?” Just before you reach the door of his room you turn to face him again, invading his space, craning your head up to make sure the message gets through his thick skull this time.

 “Fuck. You. You redneck piece of shit.” The words cutting like knives as they roll off your tongue. Daryl holds his composure as he looks down at you and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“If you want to so bad all ya have to do is ask nicely.” That same smirk dancing on his lips. He made every nerve in your body boil till you only saw red. Daryl knew how to push every single button to set you off and get under your skin.

Without warning Daryl’s face is hit with your saliva “Fucking pig.” You’re seething at this point and now any hint of playfulness in Daryl’s features is gone. You turn on your heels to leave when suddenly his large hand wraps around your arm pulling you back to his hard chest.

“You’re a goddamn bitch ya know that?” Daryl practically growls the words at you as he wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand.

“No. You’re just an inconsiderate asshat that’s just looking out for himself like always.” The venom of your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl as he holds you close noticing the heat radiating off your skin and your scent invading his senses.

“I’m the only reason you’re alive right now so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you drop it, Sunshine.” That stupid nickname he gave you back on the farm had its way of making a shit situation even shittier and Daryl knew, that’s why he made sure to draw out each syllable.

There can never be a civil interaction between the two of you. You’ve been together for so long, but the animosity never faded. Rick even tried locking you both in a cell together at the prison but after three hours of arguing he let both of you out and go separate ways. No one bothered to intervene and after that your relationship simply stayed stagnant.  

Right now, as much as it pained you he was right. The only reason you’re standing here is because he followed you on your hunt which turned sour when your kill was taken by walkers. The loss made you unhinged, being the final straw to break your back after all the tragedy your community suffered after the whispers. You went on dropping body after body till you were starting to get outnumbered, but your stubbornness never let up. Daryl noticing your struggle and intervened before you could get hurt but to his surprise you turned your rage towards him before storming off back to Alexandira.

Bringing you back here telling off Daryl for being… helpful? Honestly the stress of everything you’ve endured and the loss the community has suffered is getting to you and you need a release, and Daryl is the only one who can take it.

Taking a deep breath as you hold eye contact with him you’re finally registering just how close the two of you are. His breath fanning over your face, hand still holding tightly to your arm and that’s when the intrusive ideas locked away in the deepest parts of your mind finally come to light. “And what exactly is best for me Daryl? Hm? Please do tell.” Your voice is barely above a whisper now.

 “Is that you askin nicely?” he says watching the shift in your demeanor and matching your tone.

“Don’t push it Dixon.” The sternness in your voice lacking conviction and Daryl decided then what he was going to do with you.

He brings his other hand up to your face cupping your check and leaning down just about to kiss you when “Ask nicely. Sunshine.” He says right on your lips. How could he be even more frustrating, especially at a time like this. “Tell me what’s best for me. Please.” Sarcasm dripping on your every word. The fire in you is impossible to extinguish and honestly, it’s what Daryl loves about you so much and he’d die before he ever saw it put out but right now it needs to desperately be controlled.

“How bout ya let me show you.” And as quickly as the words fall from his mouth, he’s pressing his lips to yours. His actions are filled with hunger and desire as a mixture of saliva form between you. Your hands come up to find purchase on his broad shoulders as he deepens the kiss exploring every inch of your mouth. “Get on your knees. Now” the words going straight to your cunt but the brat in you can’t help but be defiant. “Ask nicely.” You mock him and the hand cupping your cheek travels to the back of your head grasping your hair tightly and dragging you down to your knees. “You just don’t know when to fuckin quit do ya? That shit stops now you understand?” The tenderness on your scalp stings from his grip but you welcome the sensation as a soft whimper leaves you confirming Daryl’s suspicion.

You wanted someone to put you in your place and take control. You didn’t want to have to think just do what you’re told and feel something other than the suffering you’ve endured.

“That so hard? Now, can you get my belt off or do ya need help with that too?” Realizing your predicament, you reach your hands up to undo his belt and pull down his zipper. Daryl releases his hand from your hair before pulling his belt off through the loops of his pants. “Hands behind your back.” Doing exactly what he says Daryl comes behind you tying your hands behind your back with his belt. Anticipation floods your body as Daryl stands back in front of you pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. The angry red tip directly in your face leaking precum and begging for a release. He was bigger than you imagined and the thought of him ramming your throat made your panties even more wet than before.

“Open up sunshine.” Lolling your tongue out Daryl slowly pushes his cock past your lips a little at a time allowing you to get comfortable with the position. Once you get a steady rhythm of sucking and licking his length Daryl’s hands return to your hair pulling you off him.

“Should’ve known cock would shut you up.” Daryl groans as he slides back into the warmness of your mouth. The sounds he made were almost heavenly enough to distract you from the pain in the back of your throat... almost. Your pace is quickly abandoned as Daryl starts bucking his hips in your face stuffing your throat full of his cock. Tears stream down your cheeks and the pressure from his belt straining on your wrists start to make your head dizzy and you can hardly breathe. “Fucking hell sunshine your takin me so well.” Daryl stops holding your head at the base of his dick till you start squirming from the lack of oxygen and he pulls you off completely. Taking a gasp of air trying to regain composure, you whine when he hoists you back up onto your feet.

“You gonna stop being a bitch or should I just let you finish sucking my dick and leave you here to take care of yourself?” He asks in such a kind way, but his actions moments ago were anything but. “I’ll stop. Promise, please Daryl.” You cry at him just needing something more as the desire grew within you. “Good girl. See I knew you had it in you.” He takes his belt off your wrists and has the rest of your garments following suit. Daryl guides you to lie on his bed and the vulnerable feeling of being completely exposed while he’s still fully dressed has your cheeks burning red. Daryl bends down to pick up your soaked panties, bring them to his face and takes a deep breath before shoving them in his back pocket. “Constellation prize.” He winks at you as you moan desperate for him to do anything to you.

“Are you going to actually touch me or just keep being a perv?” You groan at him as he pulls off his clothes joining you on his bed. “Just takin my time, don’t be so impatient.” You want to cry from the pressure building up at your cunt. Daryl could tell how needy you were from how much you’ve been pressing your thighs together chasing any type of satisfaction. Caging you between his forearms he slots a leg between yours adding pressure to your long awaiting cunt. Your arousal is prominent enough to leave remanence behind on his leg, but he doesn’t move. “Go on, hump my leg like the bitch you are.” His words hushed into your ear make the tears come back to your eyes. He was being so mean, and it was turning you on so much. With a strangled moan you started dragging your hips up and down, rubbing against his leg as he marked up and down your neck and chest leaving a path of hickeys and bruises. Your hips started bucking faster as you felt that familiar sensation of your approaching orgasm but just as you were about to let go Daryl pulls his thigh away from you.

“Daryl please I’m s-so ssorry I’ll be nice I’ll do whatever you want just plea-please make me cum.” You were a sight to behold, so worked up and desperate just for him and oh how he loved it. “Since you asked so nicely.” He leans down to give you a kiss but this time it was different. This time it lacked primal urgency from before, it was tender and attentive.

Now Daryl had your legs on either side of him as he lined his cock up with your dripping, aching pussy. He slowly pushed just the tip and watched your greedy cunt try to suck him in some more and your sobbing persisted. He leaned down peppering kisses along your jaw, shushing you trying to calm you down. “Next time I won’t be so harsh on ya if you use your manners, Sunshine.” Is all he whispers in your ear before sitting back up and ramming his entire length in you bottoming out.

Your cries and moans are so loud he’s pretty sure someone’s going to come down thinking you’re in danger, but he could care less because the sounds you’re making right now are music to his ears. The way he’s pressing your legs apart sends a burn through your thighs and your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts. “Doing so fuckin good for me f-fuck this pussy’s just suckin me in S-Sunshine.” His tough guy act falters as he speeds up his pace. Daryl quickly puts your legs onto his shoulders allowing him to hit that one spot deep in your body that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, fuck Daryl yes, yes right there oh my god please d-don’t stop.”  You cry out begging him for your release. "Wasn't plannin' on it. Fuck it's like this pussy was made for me." Daryl keeps up the same pace and brings a hand down rubbing tight circles on your clit. The added stimulation is enough to send you over the edge moaning Daryl’s name over and over again. The spasming of your cunt has him losing the fight of holding off his orgasm as he finishes deep inside you. “Fucking take it. F-fuck take it all.” He says while he delivers the final thrusts riding out both of your highs.

    Daryl rolls over, bringing you into his chest and caresses your hair while you both try to catch your breath. “What do you say? Hm?”

You look up at him through your lashes and taking in his disheveled appearance you realize this is a sight you could easily get used too.  “Thank you. Daryl.” Your voice is hoarse from the amount of screaming and moaning he pulled from you which sparked pride to flood through his chest.

“You are very welcome, Sunshine.” He feels content finally taming your fire as he traces patterns on your back while you slowly drift off to sleep.

[sweetimpurity]

{💓} day 27!! coming in a little late whoopsie! hopefully everyone likes this ending, I think it's a little bit of everything all in one! love ya! thanks for keeping up with this! wc: 1.8k {💖}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Earth 546

The ride to the hospital is long and painful. Closing your eyes from the pressure and ache in your head, shooting up from your nose and aching behind your eyes. Miguel sits with you, holding your hand and mentally cursing himself. He should have realized what he had before he lost it. The two months he was without you, they were the worst. Wondering where you were. If you were safe. His multiple screens where he’d spend countless hours scouring his databases for any information that might reveal your whereabouts. And working with Lyla to track that portal. Eventually falling down the rabbit hole that led him to you finally. 

And now this. To see you’ve managed to latch onto this so quickly. This version of himself that was ready to give you everything. He just feels so bad. He let you down. He sighs, leaning his head down on yours. Those years you’ve spent together at the front of his mind. He can’t blame you for the way you reacted. Just accepting Mig’s love because it was the thing you needed all along. 

Mig keeps looking back in the rearview mirror as he drives. Keeping an eye on you and Miguel in the back. He knows he did wrong. But his intentions were pure. His only intention was to give you love. Love you’d been longing for. And to escape that life he'd been stuck in forever. But he did that at the cost of lying right to your face and taking you from the home you knew. 

“We’re here…” He sighs, looking back at the two of you in the backseat. Pulling into the emergency room parking lot. Miguel perks up, turning off his suit and the nanotech disappears, leaving him in his regular clothes. An outfit you recognize. Those gray pants and the light gray long sleeve with the thumb cutouts. An ache in your chest. Realizing this really is your Miguel. Looking in his eyes over the mess of tissue at your nose. He just gives you a knowing look, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay…”

Mig does the same. His suit disappearing and his work clothes underneath. Running a hand through his messy hair. Parking the car and sighing. 

The three of you make it out of the car and through the automatic doors. Entering the waiting room and getting a few looks from people. These two hulking twins escorting a bleeding you through the lobby. Like guard dogs. Glaring at anyone who dares look your way. Miguel holding your hand and Mig’s hand on your back guiding you through to the front desk. 

Soon you’re getting tended to by a kind older nurse. Cleaning up your bloody nose and giving you some stronger pain killers to help with the swelling. At your request, the boys are waiting out in the lobby. Sitting with an empty chair between them. Crossed arms and huffs, frowning at the floor and waiting for you to return. 

Each of them has a few choice words for the other. 

“You couldn’t have picked a dimension with some higher tech? This place is like 2030…” Miguel huffs, rolling his eyes. Glaring around at the hospital. If they were on Earth 928, he’d be able to treat your broken nose himself in minutes in his lab. But since Mig did all this, this is what they have to settle for. 

“This place seemed safe…” Mig says, staring blankly at the floor. 

Miguel scoffs, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “You act like we’re not superhuman geniuses… who can quite literally jump between dimensions. We can do anything we want and not many people could stop you…” Miguel says matter of factly. Clasping his hands together. 

“My dimension’s messed up… ” Mig says. Blinking and tapping his fingers on the armrest. “Everything feels wrong there… things glitch, my whole life there was like one big glitch.”

Miguel nods and listens. Feeling empathetic to his struggle. He can understand why he did what he did. But he still can’t help but feel it’s his duty to make things right with you. Whatever that may mean. Even if it means you leaving him for good this time. All this started with you two, it should be resolved that way too. 

“Well there are a lot of universes out there… People like you and me aren’t meant to stay in just one. Your whole life could be waiting for you and you wouldn’t even know it.” Miguel says. Feeling more optimistic than usual. Of course, he sees his own struggle in his fellow Miguel. 

“Whatever happens now… it’s gonna be her decision. And we’ll have to take it as it is.”

It’s silent for a bit before the doors open finally and you walk out with an ice pack in hand. A butterfly bandage over your swollen nose. But you’re all cleaned up now. Walking over and instead of sitting in between then, you sit across from them, facing them. The three of you settling into a heavy silence.

“I’m sorry…” Mig is the first to speak. Not looking up at the two of you yet. Looking down at his hands. It’s quiet, letting his apology sink in. 

“Yeah I’m really sorry… I don’t know what I was thinking…” Mig sighs. “I didn’t want to hurt you… but I should have been honest from the beginning.” He hums more seriously. His eyes flicking up and expecting to see hatred in your expression but your face is surprisingly soft. 

“And I’m sorry…” Miguel says. And you find his eyes on you. His apology feeling much more heavy. Three years of your life you spent with this man. This was all pretty messed up to begin with. Both of them messed up big time. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you either… but I was selfish… and ignorant. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone...” Miguel huffs. Looking in your eyes. 

“I guess we’re just wired to love you… in every dimension…” Miguel says with a slight sad smile. The two of them watching you from across the row of seating. 

“Me too…” You sigh with a pained grin.

5 years later… Earth 928

You’re home. Back where you started. After having spent some time away from any and all versions of Miguel O’hara. After the hospital, you said goodbye. You gave the ring back and a tearful goodbye to Mig who wished you nothing but love and joy in your life. And he told you about his plans to explore more of the multiverse and try to establish his own life somewhere, instead of framing his life off of the variants that are his parallel, but not his mirror. 

Getting back home, you decided it was best to part ways with Miguel as well. At least for a while. After the deep hurt he caused, you needed to heal on your own for a while and figure out what you want and how to love yourself first. You landed a promotion the next year, moving up a position at your job surprisingly after having to explain to them the very unique reason for your two month absence. Picked up some new hobbies after getting your own apartment. Growing flowers and herbs on the fire escape and who knew you could paint?! Made some new friends in the neighborhood. And all was well. 

Miguel spent his time focusing on the Spider Society. Guiding his team to protect the multiverse and working to preserve the precious timelines from running out of control. He was able to do so with the help of Lyla, Peter B, Jess and all the spider teens. And finally after five years, he’s passing the Society off to those teens who are now adults. Spiderpeople in their own right and passionate about keeping the multiverse and all its inhabitants safe. And leading the Society as a united front. Knowing it will take them some time to grow into the role but he’s willing to help them all along the way. 

Miguel plans to take a step back from the Society. And from his work as Spiderman 2099 as a whole. What with the baby on the way, he wants to be able to spend all his important time with you. 

One year ago, you reconnected. After spending nearly 4 years apart, he happened to check in and it happened to be on the date of your anniversary. Talking about old memories changed to talking over dinner again. And without half his mind distracted by the multiversal collapse, he could focus on you and only you. He can’t help but feel oddly grateful to Mig all those years ago for making him see what he was missing, making him realize what he was losing. You. 

This time he wasted no time. Proposing to you six months later and knowing it’s right this time. Not wanting to lose you, not wanting to risk you feeling the way you did ever again. Wanting to do right by you. From now on and always.  

You were married in a tiny ceremony at HQ. Peter B cried, Miles did too. 

And now a few months after that, you’re pregnant with your very first! It’s all you ever dreamt of. All you wanted. The family, the stability, the feeling of home with the man you love. And you have to feel grateful to Mig too because he showed you, you were deserving of unconditional love. At the time, Miguel just couldn’t show it. Right person, wrong time. But he’s learned better now.

Miguel has already been decorating the nursery with little pink web designs. Full papa spider mode getting the nest ready for the arrival of your little one. And though the journey hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing… you’re together at last and on the same page. And Mig 731 isn’t doing too bad himself…

…

Mig traveled the multiverse all these years. Going to worlds he never knew existed. Timelines that are so different from his own. Always searching for a new adventure and coming out of his shell. The shell his broken dimension always forced him into. Feeling a freedom he never had before. Not when he was sitting at home, watching other Miguel’s have lives he could only dream of having. Not readily having the technology to actually get out and seize his chance. 

Along the way, he even met a certain someone who took his breath away. You. From Earth 764A. A feisty spider woman and the prettiest in the multiverse. And when he learned you didn’t have a Miguel in your timeline, it was like the gates of fate opened and he saw the light. The two of you traveling to fantastic worlds unknown! And falling in love all the while. Spending the rest of his days with you, the only version of you that he feels he was meant to find. Miguel was right, his whole life was out there waiting for him. You were out there waiting for him. He just had to go looking...

And they all lived happily ever after… 

The end. 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

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if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

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[harrystylesfan2686]

Hello! For the dialogue, number 18 AzrielxReader.

Thank you!

"Stay With Me."

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You get Hurt on a mission with Azriel.

Warnings: slight mentions of torture

A/N: hey!! Thanks for requesting! Hope you like this!!💕😭

Dialogue Prompts Masterlist Part 2

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"I, am, tired!" You struggle saying each word, considering you are walking through a storm in forest.

You are on a mission with Azriel, of all people. You have no idea what Rhysand was doing pairing you both together. He knows how the two of you don't get along but he still, put you with each other.

You are currently walking through a woods along Night Court border. You were supposed to meet Eris for some information Rhysand needed against Barron but the basturd didn't show up, instead a storm did. Out of nowhere, heavy drops of rain started falling, covering the forest with dark clouds and muddy road.

You can't fly due to the water and can't winnow because you can't see anything, so, the two of you decided, walking it is. Having no idea where you are going, you have been walking for hours, surely Rhysand would be suspicious by now.

"You complaint too much." You can practically hear Azriel's eye roll following his remark. He might seem quite and kind to other people, which he is, to other people. Not to you though, his entire personality changes when it comes to you. All the kind and quite persona gets replaced with a snarky and bored one. Arguing with you seems to be his life purpose.

You don't understand why. He has always been that way with you. You were so good from the moment you met. You and Rhysand met first, having both being victims of Amarantha, in different ways. You know the horrors Rhysand had to suffer to survive, you didn't nearly spent the same enduring as him but Amarantha kept you with her for her torturing tasks, scaring you body with her anger.

You and him escaped her together and he brought you back to Velaris with him, knowing you haven't got any family left. He introduced you to his inner circle and kept you in as one of Azriel's spies. You were so excited to finally meet the infamous Spymaster, what you didn't expect was the cold expression he had in his eyes after meeting you.

You groan and take the next step heavier in anger, hoping to stomp your foot but your breath leaves you body when you foot gets sucked in a giant hole, being covered with dried sticks and mud. You scream as you fall, the hole bigger than you thought it be.

When you finally fall on the ground with a thug, you stay still for a second and then the pain hits. Quickly starting from your abdomen and spreading to the rest of your body. You feel snips of pain all over your body, having being covered with small cuts by the dried wood, but the main source of pain is into your stomach.

You try to get up but cry out in pain, again laying down. This time you only lift your head to see what causes such immense pain. You gasp when you see black matel, and small sharp teeth like points connected to a thick matel band.

A bear trap. Great. Seems like you are a bear now.

You can't even breath through the pain. It's that bad. The sharp points digging into your skin with more force every second, your blood now starting to pool beneath you. You close your eyes as you feel a wave of dizziness behind your eyes.

"Shit, Y/N!" Azriel's voice comes to you first before you feel his hands coming to your body. "This is going to hurt." Is the only warning you get before his hands dig into your stomach, pulling at the matel. You scream out as it finally get out of you, leaving huge gapping holes and straches that, now, also bleed.

You sob in pain as Azriel throws away the trap and covers your injury with his hand. You turn to look at the thing, large enough campared to half your body. You realize it would kill you if Az hadn't taken it out. Gods, where do people even find weapons so big.

You cry again when Az press on your wound and lefts your upper body to his. The rain pouring only making things worse and he spreads out his wings, as if reading your thoughts, hiding you from the rain and the world.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" Your voice coming out weaker then you imagined and Az sucks in a breath.

"Shut up. You aren't going to die." Sure, Rhysand will come for you both. And if he doesn't, Az will carry you all the way to Valeris himself if he'll have to. Letting you go is not an option.

"Who will you have to fight with after I'm gone? Hm?" You try to joke, laughing at yourself weakly but Azriel looks mad.

"You're alright. We're getting out of here, you're going to heal and we are going to keep fighting like we always do." The small quiver in his voice spoke more than he wanted to.

"I hope so." Your eyes closing now.

"No, no, no, no. Hey! Hey, look at me!" His hands jerk your face, desperately trying to keep your eyes open and to his. He groans out, thinking of a way to keep you awake and then freezes, saying the one thing that has you so shocked, you don't think of anything else.

"You're my mate."

His hand, that was to your wound clasp around yours, again putting it to the bleeding hole, now pressing with both of your hands, and he looks into your eyes, repeating his words trying to get you to see the truth in them. After a moment, your fingers slightly tighten around his and he almost cries in relief.

"What?" Your voice so weak, it brings tears in his eyes. "How?"

"I'm sorry. I never told you before. I was never strong enough to do so." Your slightly quickened breathing and eyes on his, he takes this as good signs and continues talking, hoping to keep you interested and shocked enough to stay awake until he finds a way to get out.

"From the moment I met you, I've known. You are my mate. The person I longed for all this time. I- I didn't tell you because I was ashamed. Ashamed to admit that you got paired with someone like myself. You happy personality was something I could never keep up to. I could never keep you happy." A tear falls down his eye but he ignores it and keeps talking, keeps your beautiful eyes on him. "I love you, Y/N. I always have. From moment- we first met. From the second I layed my eyes on you. I don't want you to be stuck with me, so I never told. I was a coward, darling. I am so sorry."

The name he called, doing something to you. Making you feel something you haven't felt before.

Your mate.

Azriel is your mate. He has known this, ever since he met you and didn't tell you, but you can't find it in yourself to be angry at him. In a way you understand him. Understand why he did what he did, you wouldn't have told him either, given how you thought of yourself, you wouldn't want to tie him to you forever too. Hel, you probably would have ran away, afraid of what having a mate would imply.

But now, you don't care about any of this. You have a mate. And you will show him just how much you want him. If this is, in fact, your last living moment, you will not waste it. You weakly lift your other hand, keeping one to his, and touch his face. The act taking so much enery, your fingers shaking against his cheek and he can clearly feel it, given that now more tears fall down his face.

"I am proud to call you my mate."

You weakly smile at him. His eyes now shut close and he hugs you to his body, the hand that is to yours, now cluching tighter and the other around your back, his face buried in your neck and he cries harder.

The last thing you hear before darkness sweeps you, is his voice begging you to stay as tears fill your face and neck.

"Please, stay with me."

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[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (4)- Good Luck

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 4- 4k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

The deafening silence of your apartment suffocated you as soon as you shut the door, your fingers twitching subconsciously by your side as you felt anxiety and panic clawing its way up your throat, your gaze hurriedly looking around the apartment to find something focus on besides the feelings you’d be bottling up on the way home. It tore you in half to act as though nothing was wrong for the rest of the night, to smile at her in that loving and adoring way knowing it would be the last time as you waved her goodnight, to kiss her a final time, to kiss her goodbye. It broke you, but you refused to acknowledge it, too scared of drowning in your sorrows. You didn’t want to feel this way, you didn’t want to feel the overwhelming sense of pain and loneliness, to listen to your screaming thoughts in the silent room, the claustrophobic doubts clouding your mind at the decision you made. You couldn’t handle having to face everything, to face the fact it was over, the fact that the one person who made you feel free was never yours. She was never yours.

You could feel your chest tightening at the relentless thoughts, your mind begging you to do as you always did and push everything away, to just pretend you were fine and put a smile on your face as if nothing was wrong. You tried to get the corner of your lips to tug up, to put a brave face on as your empty stare took in your apartment, but your lower lip inevitably trembled, struggling to fight the anguish coursing through you. You couldn’t do this.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your crushed form made its way through the hallway to your room, looking longingly at May’s room as you passed it, desperately needing her comfort right now. You needed her to tell you everything was going to be ok, to hug you and soothe your worries but she wasn’t there. You were alone once again. You always ended up alone, it wasn’t fair.

You shut your door a little harder than you intended as you reached your room, your legs giving way as everything crashed down on you at once, a broken sob painfully being torn out of you. Why? Why did it have to end like this? Why did you have to love her? Your hands clutched at your head as you curled up into a small ball, knees pressed against your chest as your back rested against your door, body shaking with cries as the damn that was keeping your emotions in check burst. Your chest felt hollow, an agonising emptiness settling there as your palms pressed against your eyes, trying to stop the floods of tears escaping them whilst the joy and love that was once consumed your heart was replaced by a gnawing ache. Why couldn’t she just love you?

The question tormented your thoughts, your cruel brain dragging you down a despondent and painful trail of thoughts as you tried to control your ragged breathing, the panic and anxiety of feeling so out of control still burdening you.

Why was she so scared? Did she not think you were worth loving? Were you worth loving at all? Was it just casual? Were you an experiment? Why her? Why did you have to love her? Why does it hurt so much? You didn’t even do anything wrong. All you did was fall in love.

You drifted down the spiral of these thoughts, unable to stop yourself as they plagued your mind for what felt like hours, your body exhausted with the overwhelming feeling of heartbreak whilst you wiped your eyes once more carelessly, trying to get a grip of yourself.

The weight in your chest remained constant as you stared off at your bed feeling numb, your body drained as you slumped against the frame of the door, fingers brushing back your locks in a stressed manner as your thoughts continued to race, only pausing when your eyes caught a glimpse of something peeking under your bed, a ripple of unease stirring within you.

Gradually, you pushed yourself off the floor, making your way to your feet as you stood unsteady, limbs feeling numb and heavy as you took a reluctant step closer to the box, another stab of agony directed at your heart as you realised what it was.

Polaroids and various mementos of your secret times together with Wanda filled the small wooden box, leaving you powerless to another onslaught of tears brimming at your eyes as you stared at the item, conflicted on what to do with it. Part of you was tempted to open it, to recall the memories of every single photo you took, to remember the way you felt when she kissed your cheek before snapping a picture, the way your heart fluttered when she would look at you with mirth in her eyes when you would point the camera at her, offering you a loving smile as she waited for the click every single time. The other part of you wanted to throw the items away in anger, to hate her for tainting the memories but you couldn’t. They meant too much to you, she still meant too much to you.

A deep sigh left you as you used your foot to push it out of sight, hiding it further under your bed like a dirty secret because that’s what it was, that’s what you were. You could feel the irritation bubbling inside you at the thought, your jaw clenching in annoyance as you stared at where the box was, another wave of hurt washing through you as more memories and thoughts tormented you, reminding you of the gaping wound in your chest.

Why weren’t you enough?

***

The corridors of the college campus were filled with students smiling and grinning at one another, cheers erupting from the back of people's throats as everyone exited their last exam, finally free for the summer. Your expression contrasted the elated people pushing past you in a rush to leave, your defeated gaze searching for a certain locker as you planned to talk to Wanda today, to confess everything before telling her you were leaving, having accepted MI 13’s offer in England, needing a change of scenery. It was all too suffocating here, the reminder of her, what happened to your parents, you needed a change, no matter how hard it would be to leave everyone behind.

You eventually made your way to her locker, looking around to see if people would notice as you slipped the post it note through the small slits, asking her to meet you at the carpark behind your work. You lingered at the metal cupboards, a sense of dread filling you at what would inevitably happen later, the idea of heartbreak and tears causing a wave of nausea to take over you, your gaze lifting from the structure to stop your thoughts drifting down that path but accidentally making contact with her enchanting green as they gazed at you from across the hall, time seeming to slow down around you.

The people around you faded away as you felt that familiar tug on your heart, your smile not reaching your ears as you offered her one last fake one, desperately trying your best to keep it together whilst the corner of her lips tugged up at your actions, excitement evident on her face as she was eager to see you tonight.

Wanda had known you had been busy recently wanting to study for your exams, the two of you not meeting up for a while, but she couldn't wait to spend the summer with you, to laugh all night long and be herself with you. Her heart longed to be with you again like that one, tender night, the memory of that kiss haunting her mind in all the right ways, her body aching for you in such an affectionate way again. She wanted to feel loved by you, to be seen and truly appreciated in private before letting reality and the expectations of her drown her again. She needed the escape you offered her.

The brunette took a step forwards, hoping to talk to you but the sight of a familiar blonde stopped her, Vision’s smile soft as he distracted her, the sight of the two of them cracking your heart once more. You kept your face stoic as he brushed back a strand of her hair, her lips stretching into a loving smile as she peered up at him, kissing his lips briefly in an attempt to keep up the appearance with him, to you, the sight an interaction between a couple of lovers. A wave of bitterness washed through you at the fact he could be with her, he could show his love for her in public, your mind swiftly pushing the thoughts away as you knew there was no use in going down that spiral again, simply trying to stop the pain radiating in your chest by turning around, refusing to look anymore. You couldn’t watch her live her life a lie.

Unbeknown to you, when she could, her eyes flickered away from his piercing blue and the blush painting his cheeks, her smile soft as she forced herself to enjoy his company as he wrapped an arm around her waist, talking nonsense to her as her green frantically searched for you. She had to try and hide the way her brows furrowed at your tense posture as you pushed past people to leave, a glimmer of disappointment appearing in her eyes as she had hoped to talk to you and congratulate you on finishing your exams. The expression swiftly faded when he asked her something, her answer pleasing to him as she tried to keep the appearance up, ignoring the ache in her chest at the way you walked away, leaving her feeling alone.

***

Exhaling a final puff of smoke, you savoured the last of your cigarette before dropping it to the floor, using the heel of your boot to crush it into the ground when the sound of those familiar footsteps grew closer, your heart pounding anxiously in your chest, dreading what was about to happen. Your mind was tormented by the anticipation of what was about to occur, images in your head flashing by at the different ways this could end, unsure of what the best scenario would be. Would you want her to shout at you, to scream at you for breaking it off? To have her tell you she hated you so it would make things feel a little easier? Or would you rather her stay quiet and suffer in silence? Letting you watch helplessly as you carved a hole in her heart, unable to comfort her as you were the reason she was hurting. God, you didn’t want to hurt her.

A deflated sigh escaped as you couldn’t decide what reaction would be the best, but you knew deep down a part of you hoped she would do neither and ask you to stay, that she’d confess her feelings to you and learn that she didn’t have to be ashamed of you, that being with you wasn’t abnormal or something that made her a ‘freak’. You only ever wished she could accept herself.

Before your mind could repeat any more thoughts like a broken record, you watched in the corner of your eyes as she approached you, her smile practically reaching her ears making the chain on your heart tug forcefully. She looked so happy, you didn’t want to take that away from her.

“Hey,” she murmured out softly, her tone conveying her excitement as she leaned against your truck, biting her lower lip in that adorable manner as she tried to contain her enthusiasm, the expression dropping at the conflicted expression engraved on your face. “What’s wrong?” Her tone was tender as her mesmerising green peered up at you, every swirl of green containing care as she gauged your reaction to her words, the way pain flashed in your eyes before your mouth opened and closed, hesitating on your words.

At the glimmer of distress in your eyes, Wanda couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease crawl down her spine, a lump forming in her throat at the way you avoided her gaze, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to compose yourself, trying to stop the doubts in your mind as you had to do this. You couldn’t let this drag on anymore, you couldn’t.

“Wanda, I…” you trail off, building the courage to say what you felt but struggling to put it into words, a gnawing thought at the back of your mind begging you to tell her nothing was wrong, to carry on pretending.

Her intense green observed you with concern and apprehension at your vulnerable state, her heart rate increasing with every passing second as you tried to find the right words, the excitement and joy swiftly draining from her face as you finally continued, the words slicing straight through her chest.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you manage out, not hiding the pain in your voice as you spoke in such a raw tone, the worry that was brewing within her now flooding through her veins, her body almost flinching away from you at your words, moving to stand opposite you with anguish clear in her expressive gaze.

“What?” She whispered out, refusing to truly comprehend your words as you looked at her, your usually bright and playful eyes staring back at her despondently, acting as though the world around you had lost all its colour.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be a dirty secret, I want to call it off,” your words cut deep and you know they do, your face showing your sorrow for hurting her as she lets out a breathless laugh, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, her lower lip trembling at the pain radiating in her chest, her heart bleeding anguish into her veins.

Her head turns away from you, desperately trying to keep her emotions in check, the sight of you only further cracking her heart as her eyes glossed over completely, the tears flowing down her cheeks as she couldn’t stop herself, it hurt too much.

“Why?” she croaks out, hesitantly letting her gaze meet yours, an overwhelming feeling of despair drowning her as she looks into your equally broken eyes.

“You know why,” you murmur out, trying to keep your voice soft as you still wanted to comfort her, to soothe her pain. You were desperate to pull her into your arms, to hold her close and let her face seek safety at the crook of your neck, to press your lips to the top of her head and whisper tender words to her but you couldn’t. You were the reason she was crying and it tore you apart. It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair.

“I…” Wanda couldn’t find the words to argue back, to say she didn’t know because she did. She knew that you had changed after you lied to her, she knew that you loved her but she refused to accept it. You couldn’t truly love her, it was wrong. She couldn’t let herself be loved by you, by a woman. She refused to make this real, she was unable to let the bubble the two of you created burst and let reality crash down on her. Why couldn’t you just continue to pretend? She wanted everything to go back to the way it was, she didn’t want this. She didn’t want to lose you, but she couldn’t admit the truth.

“I love you Wanda, I always have,” you whisper, your words laced with honesty and all the emotions you felt towards her, your tone so soft and tender that it causes a stray tear to slip from her eyes at how she wished she could let herself be loved by you, that she wasn’t taught this was shameful all her life. The hope and desire was brutally clawed away as soon as it came, the brunette powerless to the merciless grip her traditional mindset had on her, teachings from her childhood ringing around in her head as she forced herself to stop the feeling.

“No, you can’t, you can’t love me,” she chokes out, struggling to stop the lump in her throat from affecting her voice, desperate to sound composed and not as though anxiety and insecurities gnawed away at her sanity. “It’s wrong,” she sighs out, nausea bubbling inside her at the way your face drops at her words, the way you can tell she’s trying her best to use her denial to shield her pain.

“It’s not wrong,” you sigh out, taking a step closer to her, hands naturally reaching out to hold hers, letting your thumb brush over the back of hers tenderly before she pulls away from you, using her hands to wipe away the tears lingering on her cheeks. “It’s not, I promise you it’s not,” your words only further torment her, the ache in her chest constant as she wants to believe you, she really does but she can't. She won’t. “I know it’s hard to accept that you’re-” You try, but she cuts you off.

“Don’t,” she grits out, tone raising, a sudden harshness lacing her words as you furrow your brows at her, shocked at the disgust corrupting her green. “Don’t say it, don't make me say it, I’m not like that,” she mutters, pain underlying her words as your face grows sympathetic, unsure of how to help her. You just wanted her to stop running away from the feeling, to keep making excuses or giving stupid reasons as to why she couldn’t accept herself. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Why couldn’t she see that?

“Wanda-”

“No,” she doesn’t even let you disagree, leaving no room for argument as you sigh, lowering your gaze to the floor, trying to collect your thoughts. You knew she wasn’t going to admit to herself she was into women, and you weren’t going to force her to accept herself, but you needed to know if she ever loved you back or if this was really just casual. It couldn’t have been, couldit?

“I won’t make you say it,” you murmur out, keeping your gaze locked on hers, losing yourself in her green whilst you build the courage to ask her. You were scared of the answer, none of the possibilities your mind could come up with were good, but you had to know. Your mind would drive you insane if you didn’t. “But Wanda, I need to know, did you ever feel the same?” Your voice wavers as you ask her, a cold fear underlying your words as it spreads throughout your body, anxious thoughts trapping your mind as you were terrified to know how she felt.

Hesitation is evident on her face as she looks at you, clearly conflicted on what to say as you longingly look at her, heart pounding wildly against your chest as you wait for her to speak, the silence deafening as her mouth opens and closes, lost for words.

“Please be honest,” you murmur out in a pleading tone, not hiding the fear that consumed your body, “Did you love me?”

“No,” she croaks out, meeting your gaze before looking away, nausea making her head spin as she utters the word, her trembling hands moving up to her face to stop the sob that wanted to force its way out of her.

The pain that you had felt previously felt like a mere prick to your heart compared to the sheer agony that ripped its way through your body, her words leaving a scar on your heart that you’d forever carry with you. It hurt, fuck, it hurt so much, but not because she said she didn’t love you, no, her words destroyed you because she looked you right in the eyes and lied to your face. You could see it in the green you loved so much, you’d spent enough time with her to know how to read her, to tell when she was telling you the truth and she wasn’t.

A scoff left you at what she managed out, the sound turning into a breathless laugh to stop yourself from breaking down, your hands roughly wiping your cheeks as you avoided her gaze, an onslaught of anger gripping your heart. You wanted to scream at her with everything you could, to confront her and call her out but you didn’t have it in you. You wanted to hate her, to resent her and tell her here how you never wanted to see her again, but the words refused to leave your mouth. Despite everything, you didn’t want her to hate you. You didn’t want to lash out at her and make her think of you like that. You weren’t like that.

Pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing deeply, you tried your best to compose yourself before saying anything, your gaze catching a glimpse of her distraught green and only reminding you of the pain that slashed through you moments ago, your eyes squeezing shut in hopes that the pain would simply vanish and let you collect your thoughts.

“Good luck, Wanda,” you manage out of a few more deep breaths, your tone attempting to be soft but still containing a hint of sarcasm and irritation as you look at her, gaze softening as you take in her watery green.

Wanda’s brows furrowed at your words, at the tenderness she could sense in your voice, her mind lost to a sea of confusion. Why weren’t you shouting at her? Why didn’t you hate her? You should hate her. Her mind begged you to stop being kind to her now, your always caring self emerging when it shouldn’t. She didn’t want you to be loving and caring now, she needed you to hate her to make things easier, she needed you to stop.

“I hope he makes you happy, I really do,” you continue, each word pushing the knife further and further into her heart as well as yours, the fact that there was a hint of truth in your words twisting the blade as you partly meant them. You only ever wanted her to be happy, even if it meant she was with someone else.

“Y/n…” She tries but nothing follows the whisper of your name, your trembling lips pulling up into a soft smile as best you could.

“Don’t,” you murmur softly, stopping her from trying to prevent you from saying what you needed to. “I just hope you know you can’t run away from…this forever,” you whisper, stepping closer to her as you build up the courage to say goodbye to her, your hand hesitantly moving to cup her cheek, the brunette naturally leaning into your touch, trying to savour the little comfort it offered.

When your eyes met, a whirlwind of emotions crashed through you both as you got lost in each other's eyes, trying to prolong the impending farewell as you didn’t want to lose one another. You tried to memorise each swirl of green that you fell for, her eyes searching yours to let the comfort you provided engrave itself in her mind, knowing she’d need an escape from reality.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead, a kiss goodbye as you lingered there, a shaky breath falling from your lips before you whisper one last thing to her.

“I’m sorry for loving you,” you apologise softly, never having wanted to hurt her with your feelings, your words the tipping point for her as the sob finally leaves her lips, her hands reaching out for your body subconsciously, needing your comfort but stopping as you pull away from her, her body paralyzed by the heartbreak consuming her. “Goodbye Wanda,” your voice is barely above a whisper as the words escape you, your eyes refusing to look at her, not needing a painful memory to haunt your mind as you step away from her body.

Wanda could only watch through her blurred vision as you walked away from her, the ache in her chest increasing with every step you took, amplifying the loneliness she felt as you left her alone to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. 

[v1x-x1]

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟓: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲✧

✧|| 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ||

✧|| 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ||

“God don’t you ever shut up?!” You yell at your colleague that was starting to piss you off more and more during this work trip that you were forced on together.

“Maybe if you behaved accordingly I wouldn’t have to say as much.”

You frown at him further, not even realising that at this point you are following him to his hotel room.

“Why do you have to be such a fucking pain all the time?” You push further.

“Why do you have to be such a fucking problem all the time?” He opens the door, but doesn’t bother refusing you entrance as you slam it behind you and yell at him more.

“Literally working with anyone else- anyone else, would be better than having to deal with you!!”

“Why not just quit then, hm?” His hum was in such a condescending tone that only boiled your anger more, “It’s not like the lack of your already low efforts would be missed by anyone.”

You trod closer to him until you were standing directly in front of him, glaring up at his face with a fierce gaze that - if it wasn’t for his tough exterior - would cut right through him.

His voice was cold, it made your spine shiver even if you wouldn’t admit it. “You wouldn’t be missed.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and gripped onto the loose collar of his shirt. “Fuck you Wriothesley.” You then pushed his body - of course it barely budged - before letting go.

He didn’t let your little action pass by lightly, however.

Wriothesley grabbed your own shirt and turned your body to be positioned where he had just been standing, additionally pushing you against the wall; his teeth gritting and his eyes filled with fury.

You opened your mouth to argue, but he ended up slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss.

For whatever reason, you didn’t push him back at all, no, instead you returned the kiss with your own movements.

He moved back a little and glared down at you. “I hate you.”

You trailed your hand to the back of his head and pulled on his hair in an almost-painful way, but just enough to get the point across that you aren’t afraid to hurt him. “Right back at you.”

You tug on his hair and then press your lips to his own once more.

While the two of you kissed, he bit down on your lips and tongue, even managing to draw a bit of blood which he immediately licked.

His hot breath hit your face as he spoke into your lips. “You’re so damn annoying.”

You push him back and over to his bed, enjoying the grunt that left him when his head hit the pillows. “Good.”

You then straddled him, grinding on top of him still fully clothed.

“You should really quit, you know?” His voice was laced with smugness and superiority.

“And make your life easier? As if.”

You then placed your hands around his neck and squeezed enough for him to at least slightly struggle to breathe.

He placed his own hands on yours, pushing down on his neck further. “You’ll have… to try harder than that…”

A small huff left your lips and you kept grinding pleasurably on top of him, which caused him to gasp a little.

“Oh, am I getting to you, Wrio?~”

“Don’t. Call me that.”

“Or what?” You leaned in closer, smirking and pushing down further on his neck.

With almost zero effort, he pushed you off of him, now instead trapping you under his built body. Your lips parted a little; you really didn’t expect it to be so easy for him to pull something like this.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually shocked?” His voice sounded condescending.

You simply roll your eyes, not wishing to give him a reply.

As you did so, he started to unbuckle his belt. You noticed it but didn’t say anything. You hated this man wholeheartedly, but this did seem like an endearing situation that you weren’t going to just pass on.

You started to take your own clothes off, just enough for it to be practical.

Wriothesley looked you in the eye, his stare was cold, almost sharp enough to cut through you, but it further fired your desire for this moment.

You grabbed onto his hair again, just like before, and this time he gripped onto your neck, resulting in a smirk spreading across your lips.

“My hate for you courses through my veins.”

“That’s almost romantic, Wrio.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Wrio~ Wri-”

He cut you off by thrusting into you without warning. A gasp left your lips along with a moan and the small feeling of pain.

“Oh? Does this shut you up? Thank fuck. I’ve finally found a way.”

Wriothesley then kept mercilessly moving in and out of you, continuing to choke you; you were slowly beginning to feel light headed.

“C-can’t breathe-”

A low chuckle escaped him as he listened to your pathetic words. “What a shame.”

He continued thrusting into you, leaving you a helpless, breathless, moaning mess. And only when he saw that it was genuinely getting too much for you, he let go of your neck, but still continued moving into you like you meant absolutely nothing to him.

“G-god- I hate you-” You managed to utter through your mess of noises. You hated how good you felt and you hated that it was Wriothesley that made you feel this good.

“Good.”

He bit down on your skin, continuing to make your mind a hazy mess, until he finally felt himself getting close and he pulled out in time to unload all over your body.

You felt yourself come undone too, the moan you let out was so loud that you knew for sure that Wriothesley wasn’t the only one to have heard you.

“S-seriously? You couldn’t have not come on me? Now my shirt is a mess.”

“I just don’t care enough.” Once again he looked down at you with that cold gaze, but this time, there was a hint of satisfaction and lust hidden within it.

Taglist: @lov3-ly @velvetyshu @coffeeisbehindyou @sanestventisimp @bokukenmakuroo @starspinners-hsr

lmk if you wanted to be added or removed!!

[ninyard]

So what do we think about that draft where jean kill himself on the phone with kevin ? Or an au where kevin off himself because he couldn’t handle riko’s and jean’s death?

(coming back from my mini mental health break to drop... this. uuhhh cw for jean kills himself on the phone with Kevin sorry)

-

It was late when Kevin's phone rang, loud enough to startle him from a light sleep, a half enjoyed Exy match still playing on his laptop.

Jean

Kevin paused the video.

Why was Jean calling him at this time of night? He should've been sleeping - No, at practice. Maybe he had just finished. Which schedule was he even on, now?

He pressed the green button to answer, but the feeling of something off came much quicker than any voice that would have followed. Dead air, for a moment too long, an electronic hiss, and Jean didn't speak.

"Hello?" Kevin answered, hearing a movement as he held the phone to his ear. "Jean, did you mean to call me?"

Jean laughed, a weak laugh, short and muffled. "I didn't think you'd actually pick up. That makes this all worse, doesn't it?"

His words were not English, instead French, spoken too loudly to be a secret. Kevin sat up and looked at the time again to make sure it was really as late as he thought it was. Maybe it's nothing, he comforted himself with a lie, a way of ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach that something wasn't quite right.

Jean's breathing was heavy, accompanied with a hum every few seconds, less of a happy sound, more of a struggle to keep quiet in whatever pain he was feeling.

"Why are you calling me?" Kevin whispered, like he might be heard if he didn't speak quietly. "Where is he?"

Jean laughed again, taking an inhale into the deepest parts of his lungs, before he said, "It doesn't matter."

"It does," Jean's uncharacteristic lack of care as to the king's whereabouts worried Kevin - If Riko wasn't with him... Kevin looked at the time again and again, trying to remember Riko's schedule. Why couldn't he remember?

Where was he, and why was Jean alone?

His question came out cautious. "What's going on?"

"Nothing that you can change," Jean's sigh was tired, a dismissal mixed with pessimism and hopelessness. "It's already done."

"What is?"

His heart started to pound in his chest, pushed by the tone of Jean voice, speaking french out loud without a care, no fear in his voice, but something different taking its place; Kevin was afraid, scared of the truth. Jean would never be so careless - so reckless and nonchalant. Something was wrong, so very wrong, and putting two and two together only left Kevin with too many questions and a rope around his chest.

"I hoped you wouldn't answer." Jean's voice cracked as he spoke, and Kevin shut his eyes at the sound. "I'm not even sure why I called in the first place, but ah. Here we are."

"Stop that. Where the fuck are you?"

"Only where i was always going to end up." He laughed, but instead of an awful, awkward sound, behind the laugh was thinly veiled pain. Something hurt. Jean was in pain, and Riko wasn't around, and Kevin started to pace, like he would find the answer somewhere else around the room.

Jean swallowed hard before continuing, "I would ask you how to say goodbye but you're not known to afford such courtesies, are you?"

Kevin stopped. "Goodbye?"

"Ah, so you do know how to say it," The sigh that followed had something behind it, something wistful, something painful, something... final. "Goodbye," he spoke in english, before a shaky inhale brought him back into French. "Are you happy?"

"With what?"

"Everything." His breath blew loudly through the mic of his phone. "With who you are, away from this place. In general, Kevin, are you happy now?"

Kevin hesitated. "Sometimes."

Jean hummed. "Better than never."

"What did you do?"

Jean doesn't respond immediately, and Kevin knew then what he hadn't wanted to know at all. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to assume, but then the sound of a sniffle and a low cry followed, and Kevin felt his heart start to break.

"What did you do, Jean?" He asked again, no louder than a whisper this time, quiet enough that he could hear Jean's whimper as he started to gently cry.

"Will you stay with me?" Jean replied, a swallow in his throat, the phone being placed down somewhere. "I don't want to die alone."

"Let me call someone," Kevin begged. "Why? Why would you- Why? You promised. You promised."

"Be quiet." He pleaded, and Kevin covered his mouth with his free hand. Was this happening? Jean's words were not as angry as his tone would have suggested, instead a soft quiver in his voice, as he tried to hold back the tears that Kevin pictured rolling down his face. "Just stay with me or fuck off and don't let my last thought of you be that you're an insufferable bitch."

Kevin almost laughed.

He almost laughed, knowing what was happening, knowing Jean was fading away on the other line, as he cried, dealing with whatever he'd done to himself, however it was happening.

"Tell me something I don't know," His accented voice was getting weaker with every agonising second that passed. "Talk to me."

Jean knew everything about him, almost everything, so much so that he couldn't think of something new, something that he didn't know. This was his only light in a dungeon of darkness, and that light was fading quicker than he'd left him alone all those months ago. It was not comfort Jean was looking for, but perhaps company, or a presence, just to believe that someone cared, to feel like someone was there at the end of it all. He didn't really want to know Kevin's trivia and fun facts; He said it himself - he didn't want to die alone.

"Don't do this to me," It was all that he could say, a desperate, despaired attempt, no other words meaningful enough to get him to change his mind. "Let me help you."

"You can't," Jean responded. "Not this time."

And Kevin knew that it was the truth.

He thought for a moment. What was he even supposed to do? He thought about calling for help anyway - on the one hand desperate to keep him alive, while on the other hand knowing what would be waiting for him on the other side of survival. There were no scenarios in which Jean would prosper. If Kevin called for help, it would have caused a scene, and he swore he could already hear the cracking of bones under the Master's cane, and the muffled screams that would follow.

Kevin pictured a fate almost worse than death in every attempt to end that night differently; Jean's choice had been made - this was it, and this was his goodbye.

The understanding did not make the reality any easier to digest, though. Instead it sat heavy in his stomach, weighing him down, into the fabric of the sheets he sank back down into.

"I'm sorry," He said. "I've never said that to you before. I wish i never left you."

"I don't," Jean had started to slur his words. "You deserve to be happy. Even just sometimes."

"You do too."

Jean clicked his tongue, but he didn't comment.

Perhaps he knew it was what he deserved, but it had always been more of a mythical concept than anything achievable. He knew what that darkness felt like, the familiar sound of those swirling spirals, the thoughts of can I live like this forever? that fueled the fire to bring him to this point.

The silence on the phone line lasted for an uncomfortable moment too long.

“Jean?”

Jean mumbled his response after another long pause. “Mmm?”

“Tell me something,” Kevin turned his question back on him. “Something that nobody knows about you.”

Jean’s laugh was so weak it could barely be considered a laugh anymore; more an exhale of air with something behind it. “I wanted to be a writer. Before all of this.”

“What would you write?”

Jean thought for a moment. “Poems. Things nobody would ever read. Sometimes…”

Kevin’s heart started thumping again as Jean trailed off into a mumbling silence. “Sometimes..?” He prompted him.

“Hmm?”

“What would you write other than poems?”

“Something for the theatre,” His words were slow and tired. “Something to be… performed.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Ah.” Jean sucked in a long, laboured breath. “Dramas. Something to leave… Mmm-” There’s a dull thud on the other end of the line. He couldn't hold back his quiet groan. “Something…”

“Jean.” Kevin wanted to tell him to be quiet, to wake up, to perk up. He wanted to tell Jean that his joke wasn’t funny and he was waiting for the punchline to come.

“Kevin.” He said, long and drawn out, twice the length it needs to be.

“Did you ever show anyone? Your stories?”

“Only Elodie.” His sisters name rolled off his tongue with a wet, gentle cry. “My actress.”

Kevin thought about her then, not knowing where her brother is, not knowing that he was dying on the other end of the phone.

“Did she like them?” When Jean didn't respond, Kevin raised his voice. “Jean.”

“Mmhmm,” He answered, not much of an answer at all. More of an acknowledgment of his quickly dimming consciousness, a murmur of life to prove he was still there. “Can’t talk much longer.”

“I know.” The painful acceptance left his mouth with a bitterness Kevin couldn't quite describe. “Tell me about her. Elodie.”

“I wish…” Jean spoke through almost shut lips, and Kevin winced at the sound of sleepiness as it started to consume him. “All alone.” He finished a thought he never spoke out loud. “I think… I'm tired.”

“I know.” Kevin said again. “Are you going to sleep?”

There was a struggle in his inhale as he answered, "I think so.”

Fuck. “Are you sure?”

“Mmhmm.”

There's a moment of silence.

“Jean.” Kevin calls. He could still hear his hollow breathing on the other line, but he called his name again when all that followed was silence, “Jean?”

“Mmm?” His breath slowed down to nothing, and Kevin was certain he could hear the slow and irregular ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum of his friends struggling heart.

“I love you.” Kevin said, but he felt sick as the words left his mouth. It felt worthless to him then, an empty promise. Words that should've been said far too long ago. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“Mmhmhm,” Jean hummed in three syllables. "Safe."

And Kevin waited as the silence drew on. He heard it, the final breath that left his lips, the rattle of his breath through lungs too weak to take it.

One second, he counted, and another.

Another, and another, and another, and a million moments passed with nothing but silence and the knowledge of Jean's soul hopefully finding solace in another, brighter place.

He put his phone down, too scared to hang up, and waited for a sign that this wasn't final - waiting for a sign that said this would simply result in a punishment taken too far, that in a months time when Jean's wounds healed he would call Kevin again and apologise for breaking his promise.

Kevin tried not to care about the promise, to not watch the duration of the call going up and up and up with not so much as a peep from the other end of the phone. He tried not to wonder what would happen next - would his parents be informed, would they care? Would they send his body back to France, or would he die, anonymous and insignificant, buried in some American plot of land somewhere, that nobody cared enough about to put a bunch of flowers on top of?

Would the Master call Kevin, would anyone let him know, when they didn't know Kevin had taken another breath after Jean had taken his last?

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ!" The voice on the other end of the phone scared Kevin out of the depth of his thoughts. Was it Zane? He wondered, his finger hovering over the button to end the call, or was it just another voice of a nameless Raven who would forget about this all once the sun rose? "Get the King, tell him it's-"

Kevin hung up before he could hear any more.

The panic attack that followed was not a friendly one - It started slow, but before long, his chest was stuck in a vice, and his heart was prepared to take off. Kevin couldn't hold it in anymore - he cried, choking on the breaths that left his hands numb.

Kevin didn't hear Andrew coming in, but he stood by the door frame, watching, hardly visible through the blurry haze of tears in his eyes. Andrew glanced at the still-lit-up phone screen on the bed beside Kevin, and shut the door gently behind him.

No words were enough.

There's nothing that could be done to make everything okay again, nothing he could hear that that would stop the guilt, and the sadness, and the hurt, that all-consuming hurt.

All Kevin had to offer then, was pain, and bottomless grief, as he held his racing heart while it broke into a million, tiny pieces.

[euovennia]

oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

oh

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

like

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

:)

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 29 NOT AGAIN

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | sexual innuendos, swearing, mentions + pretty detailed description of a panic attack, lwk abandonment issues

NOTES | the girls are fighting... you didn't think I'd let them make up this fast did you?? a much shorter chapter today I'm sorry 😓

15:27pm , after the game

Y/n knew ningning inside out, they'd been friends for their whole life, best friends for a number of years, they'd spent longer together than apart.

Y/n and ningning were practically sisters. They'd fought over stupid things like if apple juice was better than orange juice, they'd stolen each others clothes, done each others nails as post breakup therapy— they'd experienced love and loss, and they'd always experienced it together.

It was and always had been them against the world.

Personal problems had always existed, but they'd face them head on and, most importantly, together.

So y/n knew what ningning was feeling, maybe not exactly, but she certainly knew why ningning felt the way she did.

And sure, Ningning's words had hurt y/n too, but that was the thing, they'd said the best and worst things to one another.

Being so close to someone can be a double-edged sword. Knowing their triggers and insecurities so well that in the heat of the moment, it’s almost too easy to throw those daggers. The intimacy shared can turn into a weapon of knowing exactly what to say to hit them where it hurts. In those moments, it’s like being caught in a toxic cycle, where love and pain intertwine.

Regret sets in as soon as the words leave the mouth, but the damage is done, leaving both people feeling raw and vulnerable. It's a harsh reminder that knowing someone deeply can sometimes mean knowing how to wound them just as easily. So y/n knew that Ningning was showing nothing but her concern.

But equally, she understood she deserved somewhat of an apology as well, even if Ningning's words had come from a good place, they'd hurt, and perhaps they hurt even more so coming from her.

It seemed a simple explanation why this argument of theirs had rested at the forefront of her mind for so long too, because Ningning was the only person in her life who Y/n couldn't imagine losing. And after everything that she'd been through, after the people she'd lost, and the relationships she'd seen go with them, she knew she wouldn't let herself be to blame. She wouldn't let herself lose a friend, least of all Ningning, just because she didn't communicate.

Or at least that was her plan, as she made her way down the hallway of the hotel, her hair still dripping from the shower she'd just taken, gripping way too many snacks for the two of them to share. Minjun followed after her, still gushing about having seen his older sister play for the first time, begging her to teach him how to dribble the ball like her, a grin plastered across his face. It was endearing, really.

And Y/n swore she only turned to smile at him for a second, but in the next, she felt her heart drop and her blood run cold. It felt like the ground shifted beneath her feet, and suddenly, she was trapped in a whirlwind of way too many thoughts, coming way too fast.

There, stood across the hallway, was a man she had made many desperate attempts to forget. To no avail, of course.

She blinked, rubbing her fists against her eyes hurriedly, as if he was nothing but a figment of her imagination, that when she looked up again he'd disappear and this would be nothing but a bad dream. But there he was, struggling to open the door to his room, angrily staring down at the key card with furrowed brows.

He seemed older. His hairs greying and wrinkles setting in across the feafures she recognised so well, his smile lines deeper than the last time she'd seen him.

The last time she'd seen him.

Her breaths quickened at the sight of him, becoming deeper yet each inhale felt shallower than the last, and her chest tightened like a vice. This wasn't happening, it couldn't, not here, not now.

She could hear the muffled voice beside her asking why they'd stopped walking, she could feel minjun's grip tighten around her, she could see the way the man turned his head at the realisation he was no longer alone in the haway, but it all felt distant, like she was underwater.  Unsure how to answer, she stood silently, gaze locked on the man, blinking rapidly, questioning if he was really, truly stood in front of her at all. As soon as he locked eyes with her, she felt the bile rush up her throat and a distant ringing in her ears, her hands beginning to shake against the smaller ones that held hers. Y/n felt like she was drowning. But she knew she couldn't. It was a luxury she couldn't afford, and the soft skin brushing against her hand was a reminder of that.

Panic surged through her, and y/n fought the urge to break down, feeling the walls closing in on her. The bright lights overhead felt too harsh, illuminating the doubts swirling in her head, making it hard to focus. Calm down. She thought, but she couldn't. She couldn't think she couldn't move, and worst of all, she couldn't calm down. She convinced herself this was nothing, voiced out lies in her mind that echoed with uncertainty. Breathe, she thought. But she couldn't. It was as if every unresolved feeling crashed over her like a tidal wave, leaving her gasping for air and desperate for an escape. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground herself, but the memories flooded back faster, unrelenting and unforgiving.

Y/n found herself tugging harshly against the smaller wrist that was still loosely resting in her grip, making a sharp 180 and jetting off down the hallway, with shaky steps and ragged breaths.

She had to go, she had to leave, she had to do it now. Her phone vibrated in her hands only seconds later, a painfully familiar contact flashing across the screen, and all y/n could do was throw the device into the bottom of her bag, stuffing her belongings in on top, making no effort to answer the questions coming from the confused young boy who watched her. The blood rushed to her head so quickly, too quickly, in fact, and she swore the room in front of her begun to spin.

Her dad hadn't called her in years, not a single message, not a single word, so why now was he calling? Why was he reaching out now? Just because he'd seen her? Did some sort of shitty parental guilt kick in at the sight of his now grown children? Did he feel inadequate, maybe even jealous that they were doing just fine without him? Y/n didn't know, and she didn't care, but seeing him was still enough for her to take an unwanted trip down memory lane, reliving every moment since he'd left. Her chest tightened, the lump in her throat growing to the point that she couldn't breathe no matter how hard she tried. Still, she kept going, scanning the room to make sure she hadn't left anything behind.

Minjun had never seen his sister like this, so close to breaking down, and y/n didn't plan on letting that change today, sucking in deep breaths and wiping her teary eyes as she pulled his jacket around him. It was getting cold outside now, and she wouldn't let one careless mistake from her because of something so trivial, leading to him becoming sick.

Y/n could barely function, struggling to pull the zipper loop up and through the jacket, still she kept going. Her body ran on autopilot, muscle memory taking full control as she silently pulled the bags through the door and held a hand out for minjun to follow. Too occupied in her own thoughts she rushed out of the hotel with urgency, taking long strides towards the cabs that waited outside, only realising she was moving way too fast for Minjun to keep up when his small rushed breaths filled the air. She needed to calm down, she wasn't alone and she had to act like it. Minjun was her responsibility, and she needed to take care of him.

She muttered out an apology, quick, sincere, but short and found herself falling back into the  cycle of her own thoughts again. Comfort was a thought far away, but the surety of heading home, caused the racing of her heart to ease just slightly, a dull ache developing in her arm now that she'd finally set down all her bags inside the cab, a cramp settling in.

In that moment, y/n felt the overwhelming feeling of solitude press down in her, honing in from all sides, and the ache of abandonment crept into each corner of her heart. The pain was bitter and fuck, it ran deep.

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