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#like talking??? i always end up sounding cold bc i hold back bc i dont wanna be overbearing
bunnihearted · 1 year
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maybe saying too much is better than saying too little? at least then ppl know i care and that im trying. and even if the effort's wasted on one person, it might not be wasted on the next one.
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itrin · 1 year
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another wolf359 relisten
bc ive relistened to this podcast maybe four times now and im coming back to it for a fifth time (in 2 years) and i think i could genuinely listen to it 59 times and still enjoy it just as much as the first time
bc holy shit this is such an incredible podcast and i love noticing the tiny details i missed in the previous listens and just absorbing the dynamics again
anyways here's my totally normal feelings and thoughts dumped out, completely unsolicited and without order:
the sound design and production are everything to me; wolf 359 is the only podcast that I dont have to do another to in order to listen lmao I can, have, and do listen to the podcast at the table with my hands folded or eating dinner like I can still be engrossed in the story just by being still too
hearing hera's voice in episode 1 DFHSDKJG she's so...customer servicey and just the sharp contrast between her in the very first episodes and later on in the series; hilberts voice is changed too for the first episodes -- he sounds high-pitched like he's really trying to sell the character of Alexander Hilbert, quirky and unassuming scientist. listening to them when we're first introduced to them, with the knowledge of who they become and what they do, it hits-- all the nuances in voice is just wow. Like Hilbert's mask slipping briefly, the crack in the character, the facade, as indicted by his voice deepening into his real voice sometimes (I think in the empty man episode)
the Empty Man still creeps me out like it did the first time. The Empty Man always gives me chills.
minkowski holding a gun to fiffel's like how lovelace holds a gun to everyone on board with her bomb like how cutter holds a gun to humanity with the decima virus. how eiffel is humanity and humanity was the only thing hilbert cared about
when minkowski says she's never seen eiffel as happy as he looked in the picture he taped under his desk, the one where he's with anne; eiffel's voice when he first talks about what happened with anne to minkowski, flat and forcibly casual, then raw and bitter...oof
minkowski says in mini episode 6 that "my husbands going to kill me" ....gurl..ur husbands going to witness u get killed on tv..and his company covers the story..
episode 38 "happy endings" was very satisfying and I love the dynamic between hilbert and lovelace. and also:
hilbert is such A Character; everything is for progress, for the big picture. he has morals and boundaries but he'll willing to cross them, he has principles and he's willing to compromise; he wanted so badly for everyone under his care to live but they didnt and he started again. there's no humiliation he won't endure for the big picture. lovelace constantly kept getting outraged on his behalf because he couldn't muster up anything besides determination (resignation) -- which I think is the best part of their dynamic, hes cold, dead steel and she's a blazing, dangerous inferno. they hate each other, they're the only ones who know each other, who remembers the first Hephaestus crew. hilbert did care for the og crew, and he cares for the new Hephaestus crew too, but he cares about decima, the progress of humanity, and the big picture most of all
in ep34 when kepler asks eiffel "what's going on, what's the problem?" in that voice, and i-
I had many conflicted feelings about si5. still do and probably always will with every listen. si5 is...recruiting people at dead ends and rock bottoms because they have no where else to go, no one else to turn to, and its all they have to dedicate themselves to Goddard. si5 are people who have nothing else, so they dedicate themselves to each other. si5 have complexes upon compartmentalizations upon complexes and they're callous, objectively bad people but they're bonded stronger than most families. they're trained, loyal and without hesitation, they trust each other and only each other. they were set up to be invincible, and when they fell, it was spectacularly hard.
what's that one post thats like "what makes w359 incredible is that every character is written like a main character" yeah
when "we try not to be monsters. when we can help it" goes to "the hell do you think we are, ups?" and to "*maxwell collars hera*" [insert tearing teeth out noises]
I think about Kepler's pig joke.
I think about someone saying Kepler's laughter is his cry.
I think part of why Kepler hates Hilbert so much is because when si5 kills, its with a purpose and a plan, and Kepler knows decima will go nowhere further than this so to him, the murders are disgusting because they're purposeless
si5's divide and conquer approach from the very beginning was ruthlessly effective holy shit; but at the same time, I cant help but think about how nice it must feel to have someone who understands, to have an advocate for the first time; Hera with Maxwell, and Eiffel with Kepler
on that note, I never understood why, really; every time, I just cant help but think its hypocritical for any of them to feel distress and anger over murder when theyre responsible for the same crime. but thats human, simply put. jacobi has blood on his hands, he killed hilbert remorselessly, but he's in pain and grief over Maxwell's death--and ig the act of murder doesn't protect u from the fallout of death.
god I fucking love Renee Minkowski so much, so MUCH. and the little things too -- refusing to back down from Kepler in that first bit when he interrupts her solitary confinement for help (satisfying, go girl); and also calling out Jacobi for his shit every time, including the fact that he had a choice to disobey orders, not kill Hilbert, and save Maxwell and he didnt make that call. just - I love her
Jacobi once said something like "Kepler doesnt push people past breaking point" and then kepler realizing hes pushed too far when Jacobi tries to force minkowski to shoot him dead. "please tell me you have a plan" said in a shaky voice, ah
truly I dont know where id be without the "Memoria" episode where Hera uncovers her subconscious saying "I cant do this, im not good enough," and then every single time afterwards she does it anyways. always. that episode impacted me..somuch.
this isn't even close to capturing everything, w359 is truly the chefs kiss. but I had to put this out somewhere.
anyways.
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bloodycassian · 3 years
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Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)
AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!
TW -blood/ blades.  
Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture.  The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong.  "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike.  He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you.  Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane.  + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell.  "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him.  Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose."  Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it.  "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain.  + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up.  Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway.  "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there.  Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady.  "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day."  Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect."  "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other.  Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it.  "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him.  Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel.  He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother.  Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine.  "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him.  Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again.  The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been. 
"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.
  Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you.  He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you. 
"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.
Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place.  "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond. 
But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence. 
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kyovtani · 3 years
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𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)
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— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader
— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN
— word count: 9.6k
— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-
— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)
[ part one ]
— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)
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"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.
“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.
"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.
"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.
“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.
At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.
After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.
However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.
"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.
The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.
Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.
However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.
Kyoutani Kentarou.
You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.
"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"
"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.
"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.
"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.
You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.
After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.
The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.
It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.
"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.
His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.
"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."
"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.
Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.
After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.
Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.
He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.
After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).
You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.
You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.
At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.
However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.
He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.
"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.
"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.
And then realization hits you.
"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.
Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.
And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.
"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.
“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.
"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”
Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.
"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.
“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.
"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.
"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.
"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.
"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.
"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."
Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.
A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.
It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.
The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.
You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.
"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.
Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.
"But you're not good for me."
You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.
The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.
You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.
Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.
Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.
You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.
"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.
And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.
"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.
“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.
"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”
Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.
Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.
There you are, yet again.
Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.
The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.
Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.
Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.
You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.
And then it hits you.
The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.
Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.
And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.
"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.
You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.
"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.
"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”
You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.
After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.
Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.
"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.
"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.
But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.
"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”
Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.
You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.
"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.
"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."
"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.
"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”
You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.
“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.
"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”
And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.
"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.
“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"
You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."
And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.
"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.
You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.
And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.
"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.
You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.
With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.
"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”
You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.
Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.
But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.
"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.
He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.
After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.
You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.
And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.
"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.
"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.
“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.
"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.
Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.
"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.
“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.
"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.
"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.
"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."
"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"
His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.
You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.
However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.
Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.
"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.
"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.
"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.
Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.
You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.
“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.
"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.
Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.
Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.
"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.
You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.
The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.
It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.
And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.
"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.
Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.
You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.
Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.
And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.
You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.
Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.
"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.
It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.
You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.
You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.
But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.
"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.
Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.
Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.
He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.
"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.
“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.
Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.
But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.
"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.
"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.
“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.
Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.
"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.
"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.
"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.
"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.
“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.
"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.
“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.
“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”
“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.
You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.
And then he finally starts moving.
A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.
“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”
You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.
His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.
“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.
“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.
You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.
“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.
“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”
A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.
And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.
“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.
“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”
“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.
He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.
You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.
“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.
And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.
“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”
You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.
The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.
You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.
"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”
You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.
And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.
Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.
"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.
Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.
“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."
You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.
"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.
His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.
Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.
"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.
"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.
"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.
Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.
"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.
Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.
"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.
This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.
"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.
Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.
And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.
And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.
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yourmidnightlover · 3 years
Text
all my fault
Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!
Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.
CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*
A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!
IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!
———————————————————————
when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.
“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.
“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.
“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.
“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’
spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.
your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.
because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.
the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.
being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.
spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.
you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.
you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.
“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.
“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.
“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.
“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”
you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.
spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.
“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.
you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.
“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”
“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.
“y/n…”
“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”
“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”
“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.
-
“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”
what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?
“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.
“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.
“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.
“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.
“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.
“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.
it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.
the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.
you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.
you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.
“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.
“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”
“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”
“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.
“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.
“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.
“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”
“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.
“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.
“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.
“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.
“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”
“i did,” you admitted.
“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”
“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.
“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.
“shut up, spencer!”
“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”
“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.
“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.
you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.
when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.
so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.
you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.
and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.
you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.
you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.
spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.
in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.
he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.
maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.
the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.
you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.
you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?
a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.
it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.
when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.
in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.
you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.
he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.
“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.
“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.
“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”
“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.
“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”
“y/n, i-“
“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.
he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.
“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.
“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.
“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.
“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.
“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”
“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.
“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.
“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”
he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.
how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.
“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”
“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.
she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.
“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.
“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.
“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”
“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.
“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”
“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”
“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”
“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.
“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”
“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”
“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”
“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.
“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.
he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.
“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.
“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.
“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”
“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”
“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”
“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”
“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”
“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.
“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”
“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.
“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”
“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.
“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”
“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”
“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”
you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.
“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”
“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.
“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.
“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”
“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”
“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”
over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.
five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.
one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.
seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.
you were pregnant.
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@calm-and-doctor
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beomglocks · 3 years
Text
what soobin is like as a boyfriend
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warnings & other: none i just love him but let’s be honest who doesn’t, this gets cheesy in some parts bc he just gives off stereotypical kdrama bf vibes but guys he’s the one
w/c: round to 1k
ok first off 
sorry if i rant soobin is my baby so ofc i think he’s the perfect boyfriend
he’s so
ugh
ok when you meet him he’s a shy boy
like really won’t wanna look you in the eye
ok like super fucking awkward
like painfully and you’re like “hahah ok that’s cute”
that only applies if you look intimidating tho
if you’re one of those people who’s blessed with not having resting bitch face he’ll be flirty
well you know..
he has his own methods of being flirty
he’s charming in his own way
probably does what yeonjun does but more subtle
stares
will stare at you
and when you make eye contact he smiles and rubs his lip with his finger DJSJSKDK PLZ
alternatively: looks away, purses his lips with a smile, ears get red, looks back up to you already looking at him then he waves
youre left like
“omg he’s so fucking cute”
ok but actually like he will reel you in without you even knowing
next thing you know you’re laughing at his lame ass jokes
god forbid you think he’s funny
“you think I’m funny? well we should date” :)
wait im pretty sure he said he doesnt go after someone unless he knows they like him back
tbh he’d probably wait until you make the first move
or wait until you show interest or else he’ll just hide his feelings
you have to bring him out of his shell
once you do...oh boy
100% never leaving you alone
always telling you how much he loves you
he’s the sweetest
teeth rotting sweet
i feel like he would slowly open up to you during the relationship
he’s not like automatically into it if that makes sense
shy to initiate things at first
such as kissing and touching
asks you if it’s ok first
we love consent
free samples kind of guy
dont take him to an ice cream shop or shops in general
he will devour the free samples
next thing you know you’re leaving with goat cheese and the newest ice cream flavour
he gives hopeless romantic vibes
would want to bake with you in the kitchen
and i know this sounds cliche but
flour fight
he’s cute with it at first
just rubs some flour on your nose then next thing you know
“we turned our dog white”
he’s a simple man
however
he probably spoils you
but not like expensive item type of spoiling he isn’t extravagant
god forbid the price range of any of the items he buys you exceeds his actual paycheck
cute gifts that you’ll actually use and cherish
i dont see many fights happening with him tbh
maybe if you question his leadership choices then i can see a fight happening
for example if you think he couldve handled a situation better in a certain way and you point that out to him he’ll get all defensive
“im the leader of my group dont tell me what you think is best for my group”
then you’re just like “well shit fuck you too i was just tryna help”
i can see him distancing himself after a fight if you’re also feeling a bit aggitated
doesn’t talk to you until it’s literally 2am and neither of you are sleeping bc yall always cuddle and you’re not cuddling him
:(
he’s always the first one to say sorry
my god he makes fun of you so much
not on a beomgyu level though
more of a “if you say something silly i will make you feel so dumb for the rest of the day” kind of clowning
wow jealousy
i feel like he’s not super jealous unless he feels threatened
everything was fine until the fire nation attacked
once he sees you getting a little too buddy buddy with someone else he’s like nah i gotta shut this shit down
he’s humble but once he’s jealous he’s all braggy to make himself seem above who ever was trying to get at you
“yeah i think we ALL-”
boy do you have to comfort this big baby
he’s sensitive :(
hold him and rub his head on his off days
tell him he’s the best boy and it doesnt matter what anyone else thinks screw them
he laughs like 
“shouldnt i be comforting you?” 
soooooooooo sappy
cliche asf boyfriend
buys you flowers
if he could he would be doing the whole radio outside your window thing (side note: yeonjun would too be he’s whipped asf)
college bf (we saw it coming)
see also: college bf who helps you in what he can and tells you to screw math bc you don’t need it anyways
shows up at your school or job after his practice
everyone loves him
everyone
you gotta be on guard 24/7
i wouldnt say you’d be insecure per se but soobin definietly lacks awareness when it comes to being flirted with
he recognizes others advances but laughs awkwardly, forgetting to tell the person he already has a partner
~cue mild argument~
at the end of it all he’s like “dont worry i only like you jeez”
if he’s working on a song he asks for your input
or rather how would you interpret a certain emotion that he isn’t able to convey
just to joke around, if he has to write a song about heartbreak but neither of you have been through that he’ll be like
“well there’s a first for everything :)”
soobin 100% takes the time to learn about your culture
he’s invested what can i say
introducing you to the other members isn’t THAT bad
but they definitely clown soobin
txt: “how come your partner is cooler than our own leader”
“maybe they should lead us instead” (joke)
soobin’s like fuck yall i can be cool :(
always send you cute selfies
with messages along the lines of
“i miss you :((((”
“bring ice cream on your way back!”
“be safe tho xxx”
he gives embarassing dad vibes
you can’t introduce him to your friends !
since he has you around he isn’t too shy and once he engages in conversation you better pack your bags
he’s trying to be funny (keyword: trying) but really it’s just your friends laughing to not make the hot idol bf not feel bad
you help him with his script for music bank
speaking of music bank
yes, yes, you are clowning him like the rest of txt and he comes home like
“not you too :(((((((”
hueningkai
my goodness hueningkai
yall tussle over soobin’s attention
sometimes it feels like youre sharing soobin with kai
you love them both but youre like “kai sweetie it’s cold and i wanna be the one to cuddle my bf so please”
speaking of cuddles 
best cuddles
ones where he’s wearing a really comfortable sweater that’s actually nice material and your face gets buried in his chest 
his limbs will be tangled in yours no doubt
but wow he’s so warm you almost never wanna let go
they don’t call him “home” for nothing
tall boy
makes fun of you if you’re shorter than him
yes he does tease you by placing items on higher-than-you-can-reach shelves
kick his shins he’ll give in
you: ”hows the weather up there”
him: “nice actually but you wouldnt know now would you :)”
tell him your problems, tell him anything
he will listen
and i mean let-you-ramble-for-hours kind of listen
but at the end of it his input is always valuable and he isn’t judgemental
he’s a good listener and gives good advice!!!
he’s not the leader for no reason put some damn trust in him!
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ddaenggtan · 3 years
Text
say you want passion (i think you found it) | M
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you’re a tease. he’s tired of it.
pairing | shownu x fem!reader
wc | 6.5k
genre/warning | Covid doesnt exist sorry, big dick shownu, sweetheart shownu, dom shownu, sub reader, shownu is called hyunwoo in this, he also likes to be called daddy dont judge, sloppy blowjobs, but still, blowjobs, Shownu eats pussy like a CHAMP, Strength Kink, praise, degradation, degrading praise, this is HIGHLY specialized, you've been warned, deepthroating, DEEP deepthroating at that, nsfw pictures, aka shownu likes to remember it when he does a good job so he takes a picture bc it lasts longer uwu, talking with your mouth full (ill let u guess), doggystyle, teasing, brief nipple play, hickeys, begging, dumbification, rough sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, coming inside, gspot shenanigans, this is genuinely so unrealistic please do not think sex is like this ever in real life, i mean literally ever if you ever fuck someone and it's like this then they aren't real they're a fae or a god or some shit okay, aftercare, shownu uses 3-in-1 because He Does, Barely Edited by the grace of @personawife​‘s beta that she fit in when she could ilu, 
a/n | first n last shownu smut specifically bc its leilas birthday (@honiboyyoon​). u better enjoy this. (side note for anyone who isn’t into shownu smut, but is curious: there’s a namjoon version on ao3 that i’ll link here), but this took entirely too much effort and i did my damndest to fit as many things that ur into in this one fic as i possibly could. i hope this makes up for u probably never getting the vampire maknae line foursome i kept promising you sdfkldjsfasdf
The front door opens as you step out of the car, and you grin as your boyfriend appears in the frame. He grins at you and your best friend and you search his expression for a sign of anything other than his usual sweetness, but find none. You resist the urge to pout - you won’t give him the satisfaction. 
“Good luck!” Your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her - she knows precisely what you envisioned upon arriving back to the quaint little house you call home with Hyunwoo. It’s the reason you wore this outfit, and tried on the clothes you did whilst shopping, and sent him selfies in the poses you did. 
You’re on a mission, dammit. It’s been weeks - literal weeks, not even an exaggeration - since you were properly fucked, and you’re fairly tired of prancing around the house in your shortest shorts and deepest v-necks so that when you bend over just right to water your fern, he gets the perfect eyeful. It’s exhausting to try to send all these signals all day every day - but you know how flustered he gets when you ask him directly, so you tried a different tactic. You were being nice!
And it hasn’t worked. At all. He’s offered to help you water your plants, to let you borrow his flannel pajamas in case you’re cold, and even to buy you a sweater, at one point. 
In August. 
So suffice to say, you’re getting a little tired of him being oblivious. So you’d called up your best friend and invited her to go shopping with you, and yes, it was also very fun to hang out with her and get boba, but she’s also the master of hyping you up and making you feel sexy and desirable, so it was truly a win-win.
Plus, she color-coordinated her own houndstooth pantsuit with your pink houndstooth skirt/blazer combo, so really, you should send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe cookies. 
The point remains that your boyfriend hasn’t responded to any of your borderline pornographic selfies or the very pointed videos of you holding various sex toys and asking if it would fit. You’re at your wit’s end, and you were really hoping that it would truly get through to him this time that you want nothing more than to be railed against the mattress so hard that you cry. 
You’re a simple girl, after all. 
But no! He’s got that sweet smile on his face as you carry your shopping bags in one hand and your purse in the other, carefully sidestepping the cosmos he’d just planted the other day so you wouldn’t step all over his hard work. His smile widens when you reach the door, and he presses a sweet, gentle kiss against your forehead that has you on the verge of tears. 
He waves again to your best friend as she drives off, and as usual snags your shopping bags out of your hand so he can place them beside the door. You’ve already pulled your blazer off to hang in the entryway closet by the time he’s shut the door, and you gasp as you’re jerked back. His hands are on either side of your head, braced against the front door like it’s the only thing keeping him up, and you struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the way his muscles flex.
“Do you have any idea what today was like for me?” He growls. The sound of it brings heat between your thighs, and you resist the urge to cheer. 
“Sorry, should I not have sent you any selfies today?” You ask, keeping your voice as light and innocent as you can. He makes eye contact with you; there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “Did you not like them?”
“You know damn well what I thought of them,” he mutters, one hand coming down to rest on your hip. “I’ve tried so hard lately, y’know? The tiny shorts with your ass hanging out, the shirts that show everything when you bend over. God, the bending.”
“Really?” You breathe. It’s always exhilarating to know that you’re desired, but this is nearly heady. He fixes his gaze on you, eyes burning, and your smile softens slightly. 
“I was trying,” he says, clearly holding himself back, “To be a good boyfriend. To make sure that you know that I want more from you than just sex, and that I value you as more than just someone attractive. I was trying so hard to prove that you– that we have more between us than that. That I respect you more than that.”
“So don’t respect me.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. You’ve been laying down signals galore the past few weeks, and clearly he did not get the memo. 
“I’m always going to respect you,” he says instead, sighing slightly as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to disrespect you, you’re worth more than that. But fuck, all I wanna do is fuck you stupid right now.”
“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks and now you might finally - finally - get it. “Disrespect me, daddy.”
The hand on your hip tightens, no doubt bruising the skin, and you gasp at the feeling. Hyunwoo makes eye contact - just long enough to make sure that you’re on board for whatever it is he’s about to do. 
He could probably suggest a number of things that you’ve never considered and you’d say yes, at this point - you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re desperate. 
The hand on your hips lowers - he traces all the way down your thigh and to the back of your knee before travelling back up, this time under your skirt. He kisses you as he does it - long, heated kisses that make your head spin so perfectly that you don’t know what he’s doing until he glides a finger across your clothed core. 
You gasp into the kiss, but it doesn’t deter him. He pulls down, kissing and biting down your jaw to your neck as his fingers trace over you once more. You can feel him smile against your skin. 
“You’re already soaked,” he tuts. “You’ve ruined this pair, princess. How naughty of you. Would you like daddy to take them off?”
“Yes!” You moan as his fingers ghost over your folds once more. 
“Yes what?” He asks, and you could cry with how much you want him. 
“Yes, daddy,” you tell him, and he smiles once more. It’s blinding, how bright he is when he smiles like that, and for a second you’re breathless. Then you feel them - his hands, burning a trail along your thigh to tug at the band of your underwear. It only takes him a few seconds to pull them down as he bends, and he kisses your thigh as he brings one of your legs up so he can slide them off completely. 
He was right - they are ruined, the evidence of your arousal immediately apparent by the large wet spot in the center. He doesn’t bother to slide them off your other leg, though - just lets them hang from your ankle, no doubt as a reminder of how strongly he affects you.
He presses kisses to every bit of skin he can as he stands fully upright once more, suckling a mark into your collarbone that you’ll absolutely cherish when you have to cover it up before work tomorrow. 
His hands don’t leave your thighs - warm and strong and utterly distracting, you can’t take your mind off them as he kisses you again, heady and intoxicating. You feel it as one hand travels back underneath your skirt again, gliding between your thighs. 
A moan sticks in your throat as his fingers slide in between your folds - the feeling of them teasing against your hole before they move to rub light circles into your clit is nearly too much to handle. 
“Hyunwoo, please–”
“Patience,” he interrupts. You can hear the smile in his voice as he slides over your hole once more, spreading your arousal across your lips before teasing your clit again. “Good girls have patience, right, princess?”
You whimper, hips arching off the door to try to guide his finger inside of you. It’s a futile attempt - he just returns to the slow, infuriating circles on your clit, and you would cry if it didn’t feel as good as it does. 
It could be hours or it could be seconds that he continues this pattern - slow, maddening circles on your clit, then the slightest bit of a tease at your hole, just enough to make you think that maybe he’ll fuck you with his fingers, before he returns to the circles. It’s enough to make a stronger woman cry, and you can’t help the whines that you let out when he once again deprives you of the fuck you so desperately want. 
“Please just fuck me,” you finally break, hands moving from where they’re wrapped around his neck to circle his waist and do your best to pull him in closer. You can feel him against your thigh, warm and thick and big, and you want him. 
He hisses when you grind against him, and the one hand that remains on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “You’re being very bad, princess,” he chastises, but you couldn’t care less. Your mind is focused on the memory of what he felt like inside you, and you’re ready to burst with need.
“I don’t care,” you tell him firmly, hands sliding up under his shirt to run your nails against his muscled torso. “I don’t care, I need you, please, I just want–”
“I know,” he cuts you off. His hands disappear from you entirely, but only for a moment - before you know it, two large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding yours out of his shirt. You can't stop whimpering, caught between the memory of the last time he was between your thighs and the reality of his lips against your skin.
Hyunwoo drops - he hits the wooden floor with a muffled thud, and before you can even react, his hands are underneath your skirt. He pushes it upwards, muttering something almost reverent about thighs as he does, and then he’s pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hands don’t stop, though - they keep going, shoving your skirt up until it pools around your waist.
“H-Hyunwoo—”
“Ssh,” he whispers, giving your thigh a light bite. A heartbeat later and you can feel his warm breath against your folds. “You wanted to feel good, right?”
“Yes, please,” you breathe, hands instinctively tangling in his soft brown hair. 
“Then be a good slut for me, and stay still while I make you feel good." 
You stifle a whimper - he knows what his words do to you, and you jolt as his tongue gently nudges against your folds. There's no stopping the soft sigh that falls from your lips as he delves deeper, ghosting across your swollen clit to nudge against your hole. He's tentative, teasing with his movements - he likes to make you wait, tease you until you're grinding against his mouth.
You doubt this will be an exception.
A moan is thrust out of you as you feel your hole stretch slightly. Not much, not far - just enough to accommodate him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. It's just the right side of unsatisfying - you're aching, absolutely dripping for him, and this is just enough to whet your appetite and make you hungry for more.
You can feel his smile against you, and you already know what's coming - still, it's disappointing when he pulls his tongue out. You whine, unashamed of how you must sound or how loud you may be, and he chuckles.
"Patience, baby girl," he breathes. Warm air flows over you, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. His tongue shifts again, lapping at your clit for long enough that you think you may cum before he stops to draw mind-numbing circles around it instead.
Time bends around the two of you - it always does when he's between your thighs like this, when he's teasing and deliberate with every swipe of his tongue against you, every press of him against your hole. He edges you for so long; slow circles around your clit turn to quick thrusts inside of you that shift into laps against your hole that drag upward, just barely catching your clit before they stop.
You're sure there would be a puddle on the floor were it not for his dedication. The entire house is filled with the sounds of his mouth against you, only drowned out by the sound of your cries as he begins to suck on your clit.
Your knees quake on either side of his head, and he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands up behind your thighs. Without a second thought, he lifts - not even pausing in his mission, tongue still thrusting into you at an almost absurd rate - and then your thighs are resting atop his shoulders. You gasp, both in shock and in pleasure as he lets his teeth graze ever so lightly against that bundle of nerves.
This isn't the first time he's done this - put you on his shoulders and left you there while he eats you out within an inch of your life - but it's the first time in a long time, and it has you seeing stars as one of your hands stays tangled in his hair and the other is braced against the wall beside you.
"Hyunwoo, please–" You beg, but you can't catch your breath long enough between moans to say anything more. He sucks again, the flat of his tongue gliding over your clit as it's pulled into his mouth once more, and your vision goes white. Your knees quake, and you're sure that if you had been standing, you wouldn't be anymore.
"That's my girl," Hyunwoo praises after he's done cleaning up your cum. When you can see again, you realize he's set you down on the floor and is slowly massaging your thighs.
"Hyun, I....please....can you–"
"You want me to fuck you stupid, baby?" He asks. His tone is a little patronizing, but that's okay, because it only serves to turn you on more. "Does my sweet little whore need my cock in her?"
"Yes, please," you whimper, hips tilting upwards against nothing of their own accord.
Hyunwoo stands and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweats. A few moments later he's pulled them down just enough to free himself. Your mouth drops open slightly when you finally lay eyes on him - you know he's big. You know that he is big, you've had his entire length inside of you several times now and you've felt it for days after each time, but it still never fails to shock you.
Because he is big. Thick, so thick you can hardly wrap your entire fist around him, and long, with the perfect curve that hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. His dick is nearly as perfect as he is, and that is a very high bar.
It's also so hard that you can see it throbbing, jumping every so often as his muscles tense.
"You want me to make you come with my cock, right, baby?" He asks, once again using that patronizing tone that makes heat creep across your cheeks.
You nod.
"Then you're going to have to ask nicely, aren't you?" He prods.
"Please, daddy," you say without hesitation, "Please fuck me, I want you to make me cum so hard that I cry, I want to be a good slut for you."
"Very good, baby," he praises. "Now I want you to prove that you mean it. Can you be a good little whore and suck my cock?"
You lean forward, not even bothering to use your hands because your bones still feel like jelly. You run your tongue across the tip of him, giving small kitten licks to the slit just how he likes. A groan rumbles through him, and he lets out a soft gasp as you slip your tongue down to wet the shaft as well. 
"Fuck, princess," he moans, "I think you've gotten even better at this."
Encouraged, you let your mouth hang open– just barely wide enough to get your lips around the shaft– and let your tongue rest on your spit-slick lips. You glance up long enough to see that Hyunwoo's eyes are blown wide with his desire before you mouth sloppily down his dick. It's messy and would probably be disgusting if it were anyone but the two of you and Hyunwoo didn't have that look in his eyes that promises you'll remember tonight for several weeks. 
His hands move, one adjusting his grip on the doorframe as you suck the head of his cock between your lips while the other comes down to grip one of the two buns you put your hair in that morning. He tugs - not hard, not yet, but firmly enough that it stings slightly and makes you keen.
"If you're going to make a mess, don't you think you should clean it up?" He asks. You lift a brow and he grins. "Clearly you're not that tired if you still have an attitude."
"No," you whine, "I am tired, my bones are basically nonexistent right now thanks to you."
The hand in your hair loosens slightly, and Hyunwoo tuts. "I have to do all the work, huh? Then get on your knees for me, baby girl, so I can use you like a good toy." 
You rush to comply, and only wince a bit at the feeling of the cold floor against your knees. His hand stays where it is the entire time you're moving, but he waits until you're sitting still, legs folded under you and giving you that extra bit of height you'll need. 
"Let me know if it's too much," Hyunwoo commands, and you nod. His eyes darken, slightly, and he runs his thumb along your jaw. "What's the signal?"
"Two taps on your thigh," You tell him, not for the first time. He's always so careful beforehand, and while you appreciate just how much he cares about you, you also are sick of just staring at his cock, and your mouth is beginning to water. 
Hyunwoo coos slightly, and the hand in your hair shifts to guide rather than just anchor. "You're always so good for me," he mutters as he slides the tip past your lips. "Always such a good little slut." 
You don't stop the whimper that escapes your throat – he loves them, and you know it. Your mouth is lax, nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he sees fit, and there's the slightest twinge of complaint as your jaw begins to stretch. 
You ignore it, determined to get as much of him as possible this time. You've practiced for this, nearly every day, since the last time and you're not stopping until you beat your record. 
Hyunwoo sighs as he hits the back of your throat. "God, you're perfect," he mutters as he begins to slide back out. You let your jaw relax a bit as he does, and when just the tip rests on your tongue, you give it a small kiss, just because you can. 
Hyunwoo smiles, gaze softening for a split second. "Hands in position, baby girl," he reminds you, and you do as he says – one hand on back of each of his thighs, so you can tap out if you need to. 
Also so you can feel those incredible muscles flex as he starts shallow thrusts, rippling and tensing under your fingers. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied, you'd bite them. 
Hyunwoo continues carefully, testing just how much of himself can fit before you start to gag on his length….and just how long you can choke before you really start to need air. 
He pulls back before you even need to tap out, always careful to keep an eye on you for any warning signs. He slides back in and waits until he hits the back of your throat again, pushing slightly further, and just as he's about to begin pulling back out, you look up at him with wide eyes.
You know you look like a mess; drool gathering on your lips because your mouth is too full to hold it, tears streaming down your cheeks from your attempts to stop gagging. Hyunwoo loves it when you look ruined like this, adores taking your perfectly crafted image and crumbling it to pieces in his hands. 
So it's no surprise when he lets out a low moan, or when he lets himself slip a little further down your throat. This is as far as he's ever gotten and you want him to know how good you are, how hard you've been practicing  with the toys underneath your bed. He slides out, precum dripping onto your tongue as he does, and you bat your lashes at him.
"Use me," you tell him. "Use me like the toy that I am for you, Daddy." Something darkens in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to thrust  back in.
Your eyes water with the force of it and you don't stop the moan that escapes you as he slides deeper down your throat than he's ever been before. There's still a couple inches left before he'd be fully sheathed, but Hyunwoo doesn't even seem to notice as he pulls out just to thrust back in.
Neither of you are quiet — you can barely hear the wet squelch of your mouth. It's drowned out by the moans he draws from you, which in turn pull moans from him between the words he growls out.
"God, you're so perfect," he mutters as he fucks your throat with abandon. "The perfect angel slut, so good at getting throatfucked, just made for my cock no matter where it goes, huh? You're such a good whore, you're probably fucking soaked just from my dick in your mouth, aren't you?"
You whimper around him and he speeds up, relentless; he's not wrong either — you are soaked, can feel it between your thighs as your hips rock fruitlessly against empty air.
"Oh, look at you," Hyunwoo coos, "So desperate to be fucked while sucking me off. Maybe one day I'll get one of your buddies over here to fuck your throat while you ride my cock, since you're so desperate to get used like a good slut. But I don't even think that'll be enough, will it? Because they won't be me." He thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher, and you aren't sure if the noises you're making are as loud as they seem to you but either way, they only serve to egg him on. 
"No," Hyunwoo continues, "They won't be Daddy, will they? They won't be able to get this deep in your throat, won't be able to fuck you like this. And you know why? Because this is my hole." He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust and you squeeze the backs of his thighs to show your agreement. "You're my perfect slut. My good little whore. Isn't that right, baby girl?"
You squeeze the backs of his thighs again, but it isn't enough. He stills, still buried nearly to the hilt inside you, and cocks a brow.
"Well? Aren't you my perfect whore?" Your face flames, heat burning in your cheeks. Your jaw aches from being stretched for so long, there spit and precum dripping down your chin  and you can feel him throbbing in your throat. 
And Hyunwoo looks expectant. He wants to hear you agree with him, wants you to remind yourself of this fact.
You don't even blink when he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. You can't see what he does, but based on how he angles it and the shallow thrusts he gives without looking away from the screen, you can guess. 
"Aw, is my baby girl getting shy now?" He teases as you make eye contact with the lens and feel your face heat up. "Don't even worry about it, baby. I just wanna remember how fucking perfect you look right now forever. My perfect cocksucking slut."
You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing and you're overcome with a sudden need to feel him inside you.
"Are you gonna be a good slut now?" Hyunwoo continues, still recording. "Are you daddy's good slut?" You nod and can't stop the reflexive swallow as he goes even deeper. Hyunwoo groans at the feeling and you can see his grip on his phone tighten for a moment.
"Say it," he commands when his eyes open once more. "I want to hear you say it."
" 'm 'a'y's 'er'ec' 'ore," you moan. It doesn't even sound like words, at this point, but when you look back up at him with wide eyes. Hyunwoo looks proud.
"You absolutely are," he whispers. He hits a button and then pockets his phone again. He slides carefully out of your mouth and casually strokes his cock with one hand as he wipes spit from your face with the other. "I think you've been a perfect angel, baby girl, so you've earned your reward. Where would you like it?"
"Bed, please, Daddy." Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but you don't care, and Hyunwoo doesn't seem to either as he pulls his sweats up and then bends. The world spins for a moment and then steadies, and you realize he's got you in his arms. Hyunwoo carries you like a princess towards the room you share, and tosses you on the bed without hesitation.
Your eyes widen as he starts to strip out of his clothes, and you can't deny that you enjoy the show. The torso of muscles all rippling, the golden skin all shining, the desire in his eyes. Then the sweats — they hit the ground with a thud and you idly hope his phone is alright before you remember there are more important things right now.
He is, unsurprisingly, still hard — almost painfully so, a deep swollen pink at the head and jumping every so often. The vein running up the underside is throbbing, and you can actually feel yourself get wetter with anticipation.
One knee rests on the mattress, then the other, and Hyunwoo is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, and you can see every muscle as it shifts and fuck you love this man.
"I love you," you tell him, not for the first time. He breaks for a second, a bright smile taking over his face.
"I love you," he replies, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Can we take those clothes off now, baby, because as great as you look, you're even better naked."
Breath catches in your throat and you nod. Hyunwoo is almost reverent as his hands glide up your thighs and is exceedingly gentle as he slides down the zipper and then the skirt itself. He smiles again, almost shy, and you can't help but marvel at the fact that this is the same man who bad you gagging on his dick not five minutes ago.
He leans in and gently nudges your nose with his, but when you lean forward to kiss him, he backs away with a playful grin. His warm hand rests on your waist and he leans in again only to dart back when you try to kiss him — not far, though. He's still close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath mix with yours, but it's still infuriating. 
You pout at him, and his smile just grows. "What is it?" He asks, teasing. "What do you want?" His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and it nearly breaks you.
"You," You whine. "I want you."
"You have me." He leans forward then, capturing your lips with an intensity you haven't seen in a long time. His mouth moves against yours and it's firm, commanding, and absolutely intoxicating as he pulls back just to lightly bite your lips. It's not rough, not really, but it's fiery and exciting and everything you've wanted. 
He presses closer, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of your blouse in what seems like an instant. Warm hands cross your spine and then your bra is gone, too. His skin seems to meld to yours, hands moving everywhere as he lays you back. 
Your breath hitches when you feel him against your entrance and he smiles into the bruise he's sucking into your throat. 
"You're so fucking wet, baby," he breathes as his tip teases against your entrance. "You're always so wet for me, so ready to be fucked. Just a perfect fucking whore, huh?" He slides in then, but only a bit. Just like before, it's just barely enough for you to feel him stretching you out. Just a tease of what's to come.
"Hyunwoo," you whine. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he chuckles.
"What is it? You want more?" He slides in further, but just a centimeter. You whine again, pushing your hips up against his to try to push him deeper. You can feel yourself throbbing, aching, for him, and you're tired of being teased. You want to be full. 
You tell him as much, watching his pupils dilate with every word until there's hardly any iris left to be seen. 
"Is that so?" He mutters, almost to himself. "Well, your wish is my command." He slides in, slowly, but this time he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going and going, until you can feel him at your cervix. It stings – you're stretched so far, and he's so deep inside – but you relish it. 
"Beautiful," Hyunwoo mutters as he begins to slide back out, inch by agonizing inch. You whimper as the tip nearly slides out, too, and your hips lift of their own accord. Hyunwoo takes the hint and pushes back in; he creates a rhythm, one so slow, so maddening, that you're on the verge of tears as you whine and whimper underneath him. 
He notices your frustration, pulls himself away from lazily mouthing at your nipples, and hums. 
"What's wrong, baby? You aren't satisfied yet?" He gives you that Boy-Next-Door grin that you know hides a demon behind it. "Are you going to ask nicely again? Tell me no one fills you up like I do and beg me to fuck you the way you want? You look so pretty when you beg."
Any other time, you wouldn't. You would at least hesitate, make him work a little harder for your pleas. But you're desperate and frustrated and have no shame, so you don't hesitate. 
"Please, Daddy," you beg, letting your legs fall open and arching your back so his eyes drop lower and lower. "Please, Daddy, no one can fill this pussy like you do, no one can fuck my holes like you. Pl–please," you moan as he slides entirely inside once more, "Please fuck me right, make me come on your cock, I wan– wanna be fucked stupid, want you to– to fuck me stupid, please, wanna be Daddy's perfect slut, pl– Ah!"
You can't help your surprised gasp as Hyunwoo flips you onto your stomach with a low growl.
Warmth drapes along your back as you rise up, palms splayed across the sheets and elbows locked to keep you upright; his skin is sweat-slick and heated against your own, and a shiver runs down your spine when he pauses to runs his teeth along the lobe of your ear. 
"You are the best part of my life," he announces.
Butterflies explode in your belly a split second before he slides out of you.
"And I'm gonna make you cum so hard that you'll never forget that fact."
"Hyunwo— Oh!"
He thrusts into you with enough force to toss you into the headboard, had he not planted one hand firmly on your hip and had the other curled around your breast to tease your nipple. 
"You like that?" Hyunwoo asks with a smile in his voice. He repeats the movement and you clench around him as you gasp out a moan.  It's all you can do to nod and he flicks your nipple in response. "Good."
He lifts up, both hands now holding you steady by an iron grip on your hips, and readjusts his legs so yours are spread slightly wider. Your arms are trembling but you pay them no mind. 
Until Hyunwoo thrusts forward, pulling back just as quickly only to bury himself again, a heartbeat later. His pace is absolutely merciless; the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, mixing beautifully with the wet slide as he shoves back in and the rough, throat moans that he pulls from you. Your vision swims, and you can't concentrate on anything else as he gives you the fucking that's been haunting your dreams every night. 
He adjusts his grip, one hand moving to sit firmly on the small of your back and press you down just a bit. The angle shifts – not much, but enough that the next time he pounds into you, he thrusts right up against that spot that makes your toes curl. 
You cry out, vision going white as he hits it again, and again, and again, absolutely ruthless in his mission. Your muscles go weak, biceps twitching as they give out, and then you're face down in the mattress. Hyunwoo doesn't hesitate, just ghosts his palm down to rest between your shoulders and keep you in place. 
He might be talking – you certainly think you hear the low tones of his voice as he speaks to you, but you can't make out words. It's too much work, too many syllables, too much effort to try to work past the haze that blankets your mind. You can still feel him, pumping in and out of your gushing pussy — the stretch barely stings anymore, and he throbs inside of you.  Each thrust is still perfectly angled to hit that mind-numbing place that keeps you from doing anything more than screeching his name. 
He slows, immediately switching from speed to power as he manages to put even more force behind his hips. The hand in your back moves, as does the one on your hip and then you're rising.
A warm palm across your throat – not choking,  just keeping you in place while the other traces along your spread thigh. 
There are words – something your brain is too fried to make out, and then a rumble that vibrates through you. A laugh. His thrusts get a little faster as he fucks up into you, and you're dimly aware of his fingers slipping between your folds. 
Someone screams — no, not someone. You. You scream, something so loud and provocative that it can't even be called a moan anymore, as he begins to rub circles around your clit. Orgasms rock through you,  every part of your body going boneless even as you shake from the force of it. It's impossible to tell when it stops, if it stops – the aftershocks are strong and he still hasn't stopped fucking you, though he's slower and gentler now, letting you ride it out on his cock. 
"……perfect for me, " you hear him whisper as you're senses come back. "Absolutely perfect, an amazing fucking— just divine, you are."
"Hyun," you manage, and it's no shock that you sound absolutely wrecked.  "D– Daddy."
"I'm here, baby girl," he mutters, "What do you need?"
"You," You respond instantly. "Want you, wanna fee– feel it, want you to fill me, please, in– ah, inside, want you dripping ou–" You're cut off once more as your body heaves with yet another aftershock, clenching around his hard length again. 
"Whatever you want, baby," he promises. "Can you come once more for me, baby girl? Just one more time so we can come together?"
"Mm…." You pause, taking the best inventory you can as your muscles jolt again. You consider lying to him, or just omitting this, because you know he'll never stop reminding you of it, but decide against it. Instead, you quietly admit,  "I don't think I ever stopped."
"Oh, fuck," he breathes. Within moments, you can feel his thrusts turn more erratic, more frenzied, and then you're impossibly fuller even as something warm drips down the inside of your thigh. 
He's gentle as he lays you down on the bedspread, exceedingly so as he pulls his softening cock out of you. His weight disappears from the bed for a few minutes that seem to stretch into hours, and then the mattress dips, and his soft smile appears once more. 
"Here sweetheart, drink this." He hands you a familiar cup and when you take a sip, the water is cool and refreshing. Wet warmth, surprising but pleasant, glides along your inner thigh and you look down to see him cleaning you up. 
"Mm, this is quite possibly the perfect view," you tease, wagging your brows as you make a show of checking out his muscular arms. It makes him laugh, the soft one that's just for when you're being ridiculous. 
"Drunk your water, you menace," he commands as he continues to wipe. "You're gonna need to replenish your fluids, after all that." He looks pointedly towards the bed and you follow his gaze, face heating when your eyes land on the rather sizable wet spot staining the sheets. 
"Whoops?" You offer. When you look back at him, he only looks fond. 
"Don't even start, it was hot. Besides, they needed to be put in the wash anyway.  I'll start them after you get into the bath." He gives over you, taking kisses along every piece of skin he can until he reaches your lips. You can't help the way your breath catches – even after all this time, he manages to make you breathless over the smallest things.
He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and nose, and everywhere else until you're giggling and trying to turn away from him. Unfortunately, with his arms on either side of you, you're fairly well trapped, so you settle for fucking your head into his neck instead. 
You pause. Sniff again. Back up. He looks sheepish, like he already knows what you're going to say. 
"We were out of the fancy stuff—" He tries, but you don't let him. 
"You used that 3-in-1 shit again?" You demand. "Actual body wash isn't even fancy, it's what normal people use! That's it, you're coming into the bath with me after you start the laundry so that I can make sure you didn't use it in your hair, too."
He smiles again, though you have a sneaking suspicion that he's just humoring you when he nods and says, "Whatever you want."
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moonlit-imagines · 4 years
Text
Headcanons for being Diego Hargreeves’ child
Diego Hargreeves x child!reader
warnings: knifes, blood, guns, death mentions, mental hospital
a/n:
prompt: anonymous: “Hi! Could you please write a “The Umbrella Academy” Diego Hargreeves x daughter reader headcanon? I always think Diego is such a overprotective softie dad ♥️♥️”
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deigo really said “?????”
how dad
but also he’d just the most loving dad anyone could ever ask for
✨it’s because he was never loved by his dad✨
“hi cutie, i love you, i love you, i love youuuuu”
he locked away all his weapons so that you couldn’t hurt yourself on them
but he always missed a few and he’d turn around and see you holding throwing knives and just FREAK OUT
“no, no, no, you may not have those! knives are for big boys like me, not babies”
“give back”
“‘give back?’ are you nuts?”
diego has conversations with lil you as if you know what the fuck he means dhshshhshs
as you got older, you became more interested in his “career”
“no, i dont care if you have powers or not! you have a bedtime, that means no vigilantism, you hear me?”
“if i say ‘no’ can i be a vigilante?”
“you know what? how about you clean up the gym for al so he doesn’t evict us?”
you did not sign up for this
you really wanted to meet your aunts and uncles, but you weren’t exactly sure they knew about you
i mean, you knew you had a cousin but everyone knew about her because aunt allison was a goshdarn celebrity
“dad, i want to meet the family!”
“no you don’t”
end of discussion
despite having a bedtime, you still watched movies late at night with your dad
he really liked marvel movies
“come on, that would never happen!”
“you come from a family of superpowered kids, a robot mom, and a monkey, and you’re upset about...a guy that shoots arrows?”
“maybe i am, what’re you gonna do about it?”
you ask about umbrella academy stories a lot, you your dad usually makes it about him
“and then i punched that guy in the face! and then i stabbed him in the leg because he was a dick! bet you’re friend’s dads arent as cool as me”
*yawning bc you’ve heard this story a million times*
you go to public school
you do have your dad’s last name
which occasionally gets recognized
“woah! wasn’t your dad a superhero?”
“i have no idea what youre talking about” :)
practicing your knife throwing while diego is away, him coming home to find his knifes stuck through various targets
so proud but he had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself
you actually had to learn how to patch him up because he did come home a bit battered and bruised several times
“im okay, y/n. no need to freak”
“dad, there is literally blood dripping on the floor will you just sit down and stay still for five goddamn minutes?”
“woah, who the fuck taught you to cuss?”
watching the news at home when your grandfather was reportedly dead
you were actually very upset because you wanted to meet him so bad
even if he was a dick
your dad came home silent and you knew he knew
“you okay?”
“oh, yeah, im better than okay!”
finally getting the chance to meet your family
“who are you?” -allison
“im, uh, y/n. diego is my dad”
*jaw dropping*
and you know what? that happened four more times (plus ben but you didn’t get to see that)
“and you are?” -luther
“who’s the...the little one?” -klaus
“well, what do you know? diego’s a dad” -five
“don’t tell me that’s...no way” -ben
“you’re diego’s? wow, i can’t believe he didn’t tell anyone” -vanya
“i...i know who all of you are” -you
diego bragging about how perfect you are while everyone simultaneously rolls their eyes
“well, y/n, maybe one day we’ll schedule a playdate for you and claire” -allison
“‘playdate?’ how old do you think i am?...but yes i wanna meet her”
“god, you’re so much like diego, it’s unsettling”
you had been secretly training at al’s gym during your dad’s late night activities
so when trouble came your way, you were able to handle yourself pretty well
“where the hell did you learn that?”
“al showed me a few moves!”
“that old man? you’re kidding”
you met your grandmother, grace, who was tasked with keeping you safe at all times
you actually loved her sm
but there was something a bit off about her
besided the fact she was a robot
klaus snuck you out so that you two could have BoNdInG tImE
it wasn’t all bad
ben was a lil choked up that he got to meet one of his niblings
“they’re perfect”
“they just stabbed someone, buddy”
“who are you talking to?”
FIVE EVEN SCHEMED WITH YOU
“okay, y/n, i need you to curve something when i throw it, got that? right at that security guard”
“what are you throwing?”
“you’ll know when you see it, make your uncle five proud”
“IS THAT A GUN”
<3 family
running into patch!!
“hey, kid, i just saw your dad. i thought i told you to handcuff him to the radiator when you were away?”
“yeah, well, he wouldve chewed his hand off so here we are”
that was the last time you saw her :/
well, your dad was now a wanted man
“what happened to your arm?”
“no”
you actually didn’t expect this family reunion to go south like this
wait—yes you did
vanya has powers????
“i thought vanya was the one without powers?”
“yeah. so did we.”
diego straight up did not want you anywhere near that
but you, again, were his child and also fuck authority you do what you want
the vibe is almost getting shot several times
by hazel, cha cha, and “commission” guys?
going 2 ur auntie’s concert 😌✨
“y/n, hide in the bathroom and stay there until i come get you”
“dad, i love you, but no”
“y/n, i love you too, but yes”
“no”
“yes”
“NO”
“YES”
you won
but in the end (or not so much) you time traveled to...1961?
without any of your family
“this is...this is not good”
understatement of the year(s)
what was a kid like you gonna do in dallas, texas in 1961
no seriously, what
it was rough, but you managed to survive on your own
and open a paper in 1963 to find a mugshot of your dad
“son of a—”
visiting dad! (two years later)
“y/n? oh my god, y/n! shit, i missed you so much! why do you look different? you’re bigger, oh god. how long have you been here?”
“2 years, dad. you?”
his hair was so LONG
“2 months”
“christ, that’s it?!”
“i have to stop jfk from being assassinated”
“what makes you think that’s a good idea???”
“its the right thing to do, wanna help?”
“shit, i guess. as long as i dont end up here”
“no promises, people in the 60’s are crazy”
diego: 👁👄👁
you: 👀
running into five on the street soon after
“uncle five?”
“no time to talk”
“okay, asshole? i’ve been here for 2 years and you dont care?”
“two years, huh? i spent 45 years in a post apocalyptic world as a 13 year old and beyond”
“i didn’t say it was a competition, dude. you kinda dropped us all at different times. at least, me and dad. he—”
“is trying to kill lee harvey oswald, i know. come with me”
finally running into your other aunts and uncles, who were so excited to see you
you ran into their arms and they picked you off the ground and you felt closer than ever after only knowing them for 10 days
dad broke out
lila too
“im your new mom!”
“you’re what?”
diego dragged you along with him almost everywhere
he had missed you so much, but he keeps forgetting you kinda grew up without him for a while longer
meeting grandpa :)
“a grandchild, huh? how unfortunate”
“bitch”
“what did you just call me?”
“a bitch.”
your dad and basically the entire table trying to hold back laughter
reggie was stunned
cold hearted just like him <3 he didn’t know if he was offended or proud
this is so confusing
diego just disappeared off the face of the earth
and assassins were on your case
“the goddamn swedes are back oh shittt im gonna die”
“y/n, just curve their bullets”
“it’s not as easy as it sounds, klaus!”
you were doomed
theres too much to go over
apparently you died on a farm????
and then you didn’t??????
and your dad was almost apart of the commission
“hey, you okay, y/n?”
“i would like to take a nap please”
“yeah, me too”
“me three!” -klaus
yeah it was never that simple 😌💕 the end
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @cullens-stuff // @lotsoffandomrecs // @takethebladeawayfromme // @that-nerd-tessa // @teenwaywardasgardian // @spidergirla5 // @sheridans-dynamos // @freya-xo // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @jay-is-groovy // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @abbiesthings // @thereagles // @ofthedewthesunlight //
706 notes · View notes
ringmyheart · 3 years
Note
Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)
(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)
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Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic
He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u
In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against
And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”
He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin
If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)
The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”
U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO
He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”
And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN
And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”
He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight
Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong
He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to
And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell
Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not
During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage
Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things
On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately
Now both on like 5 no fly lists
He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.
He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose
He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen
He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion
Like the comments r like:
Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!
Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐
Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN
Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD
(Y/N): love it! 😍
Zoe: kill your producer 💀
Mira: ...
He’s overprotective too
If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”
Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him
Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason
Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do
It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u
WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!
If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”
Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it
He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....
He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma
Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”
If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤
The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world
Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him
WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u
Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave
He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?
Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place
If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally
I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭
If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back
Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”
If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will
U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life
I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️
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wrongwaterbicycle · 3 years
Note
Hi! Fav moments from each member of the gang? (Here from your analysis- you hurt me in a good way)
u've opened a can of worms anon bc im fully abt to give u five moments for each and an additional 5 Group Moments. this was hard to narrow down and there is so much sunny that i def left some gems out but thank u for giving me smth fun to do lmao. in no particular order bc im not THAT strong.
this is an extremely long post.
DENNIS-
in high school reunion when he's wandering through the gymnasium just shouting at nothing in particular bc hes still making his dramatic exit but has run out of things to say
the scene where he's trying to flirt with that girl by telling her abt how his sister farts a lot and he like cant figure out why it isn't working
"superman? oh, cool, well he was the original."
his face when opening the rpg. the way he hides behind it so no one else can see him but mac. thats good shit.
BOYS ARE OUT TONIGHT, HUH
DEE
everything she does in mac and dennis manhunters. every single thing.
the way she just unhinges her jaw and screams at the top of her lungs when shes talking about lighting that girl on fire in college
when she pushes the flight attendant away w her foot in gang beats boggs
"JUST GET IN THE GODDAMNED CAR YOU FAT FAT ASS FAT FAT ASS"
this
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MAC
his dance in mfhp. nothing is better than that.
"GOD DAMN IT, I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS MYSELF UNLESS THROUGH ANGER AND PERSONAL ATTACK!"
i'm pretty sure charlie (macsboys) pointed this out in a tag but i have never stopped noticing it- every time the gang has a chugging contest in the history of the show mac loses. what a baby man i adore him.
his whole speech to god in goes to hell. like even in what he thinks is a seriously important moment he is a Straight Up Fool, talking to god abt song and dance and shit.
every interaction he has with either of his parents on the show but most specifically the dynamic with him and mrs. mac, like when he tells charlie about how she leaves a cigarette burning outside the church he sounds about 8 years old.
CHARLIE
chicken sandwich no beak..... no beak i love him sm
all of his songs. how do i narrow down charlies songs??? you cant. i can't. no one can.
instead of just saying like hes thinking out loud or having Thoughts or whatever when mac and dennis ask him why he's talking to himself in spies like U.S. he ??? makes up that story abt a spider living in his ear and sending him his thoughts????? his fucking mind.
how can i neglect to mention WILDCARD BITCHES YEEEEEHAW
"great, i was hoping you'd say that. let's kill ourselves."
FRANK
the couch is his most iconic moment so it's going first, i don't care if that's overdone tell me you didn't nearly choke to death laughing the first time you saw it
the entirety of the ongo gablogian bit
his ferry tour ???? when he says the schuylkill river is full of strange creatures and dead bodies ????? like he isn't wrong
the go for it song!!! ever since that post about it recently i've been noticing it pop up in other episodes and i never realised how often frank is just.... go for it go for it go.... go for it go for it go..... the most obvious one is in PR nightmare i think bc it's the FIRST thing that happens in the cold open
"YA UNZIPPED ME! IT'S ALL COMIN BACK YA UNDERSTAND?! IT'S ALL COMIN BACK!"
okay and honourable mentions of Group Moments
the end of the gang escapes 🥺 theres no fakeout dee just. gets the steak. she gets to bite the steak first. i love episodes that end on a gang vs. the world note.
"the bar is where we belong, we can hide from the world at the bar!" gets me every time. like it sure is charlie.
dee and frank teamup episodes are always fun to me idk, any time frank has ever said "that's my girl" on the show i cried. but also it does very much make me realise he's never had one of those moments with dennis. let's just stop thinking abt that for now-
hucking rocks at trains 💕💞💓💖💕💞💕💓💕💖
OBVIOUSLY i have to mention near the end of goes to hell pt.2 where they all hold hands, accept death as long as it comes while they're together, and then physically fight each other to get to safety when they realise there's a way out. if that's not their whole group dynamic idk what is.
thank u sm anon and if you made it to the end of this post your reward is u get to watch charlie's butt dance. which also is one of my fav gang moments.
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seancekitsch · 4 years
Text
Barefoot
warnings: angst, communication issues, talking about relapsing, addiction, drugs and alc, not overtly mentioned but like these characters are like this bc of trauma and repression, spoilers for the movie the graduate which i severely misunderstood as a kid, dirty fuckin smut
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When you wake up, Klaus isn’t there. Just like yesterday. Just like the day before yesterday.  Or the day before that. The bed is cold even with you in the sheets. Light streams into the window but it does nothing to help. The studio is drafty and it will only get colder in the winter months, and those socks are already coming in handy. Rent is due soon and while you’d be surprised if Klaus left you alone with the lease, you’d couldn’t be sure. People had left you before, but Klaus is the one you wouldn't know how to cope without. His tea from four days ago is still sitting on the bistro table, cold and settling, surely disgusting but you’re afraid that if you touch it, if you clean it up, well then. Klaus wouldn’t return. Klaus would be gone from this apartment . Vanishing himself from this studio and this life like one of his ghosts. The tea would evaporate eventually or grow mold but it was all you had to hold onto for him to come back. Maybe it all wasn’t real. Maybe it was a trick of your imagination. Maybe you’re the ghost. Maybe you’re just a trick of his imagination that he got tired of playing with and-
Fuck. That’s when you realize you’re in a bad way. 
What do normal people do when they feel things getting bad again? Do other people feel the backslide and just somersault into it by refusing to clean or get out of bed? By dealing with the pitiful look from their boss by buying absinthe on the way home from work? God, the look Margie gave you. It killed you. By convincing themselves that all of this good they just had was just a Belle Reve and you were Blanche about to be taken right back to the clinic? You actively gag as you sip from the bottle starting around noon, the sweetness at first being a fun distraction, now actively grossing you out as you continued to drain it. Absinthe wasn't actually the plan, it was just there, it was just strong. Now you regret it and wish you got something you even liked. At least this is the worst of it, though. Before you would have fully slid back into your old ways and not thought twice. 
You wonder if there was something about your role in what transpired, if there was something you could have done or not done to change the outcome. Could you have kissed him and shut him up so he never would have said ‘I love you’? Could you have done something other than shake your head ‘no’ out of panic and start to cry? Could you have just said it fucking back because you mean it too? Could you have not continued to panic and said something along the lines of “I’m not a replacement for Dave” when Klaus tried to say it again? Could you have said or done anything just to stop him from hastily dressing himself and leaving in the middle of the night, leaving you there silently crying on the bed? If he were anyone else, you would have said it back immediately, because if it were anyone but him, words would be something you just threw around aimlessly. They're just words. You'd said it a million times to your ex-fiance. If this were anyone else, you would have said it back immediately, and probably relapsed the next morning in panic. But it isn't anyone else. Its Klaus fucking Hargreeves. It's the guy from across the hall at the clinic. It's the guy who helped you steal socks, then a table to eat dinner at. It's the guy you literally have traveled across time and space for. And you did love him. It wasn't just a phrase. You knew that for a while now, but part of you would have liked to keep it hidden forever. Because once you say it, the bubble bursts. It's out there and you can't take it back. It's real and tangible and it's not the fantasy of Klaus, it's Klaus himself. In order to say it you'd have to kill the fantasy Klaus. You’d have to murder him and all of the mythology around him and live in the real world with him, which might have even been stranger than any fantasy you could come up with. He deserved better than this. He deserves more than me, you think, than someone who would hurt him to protect herself. Selfish bitch. Gotta do better. By the time you finish half the bottle, eat your cold lo mein take out from two days ago, and decide to take a nap, you've made a decision. If you ever see Klaus Hargreeves again (which is doubtful because you don't plan on leaving this bed unless it's for work and even that feels like not a good enough reason) you'll kill the fantasy Klaus and commit to loving the real Klaus.
But sleep doesn't come. The cold leftovers sit like a rock in your stomach, not at all mixing well with the green liquorice liquor you've downed, so you lay there eyes-closed begging for the pain to subside. It's a familiar feeling, much like the week and a half in the bed before Klaus inserted himself into your life. The ache and the want for more than you have but the inability to give it to yourself. So you lay there. You just lay there, for hours. Thank god Margie gave you a few days off. You lose all track of time just laying there, actively trying not to think, trying to ignore how you feel both physically and mentally, curling into the sheets until you can feel yourself melt into them.  
It’s dark when you hear the keys rattle in the lock, and then the door opens. You keep your eyes shut, because if you do you can pretend it’s an intruder, coming to rob you of your mismatched dishes and beat up old record player before killing you. Which is a reasonable and comforting fantasy that you rather hide in than face Klaus. Klaus was real and Klaus loved you and Klaus got in your head. The intruder is a fantasy and the intruder is horror and the intruder might not even let you beg for your life. You can gladly imagine the intruder using keys that maybe he stole off of Klaus to come in here and steal all of your monetarily worthless shit and then just stab you or something anticlimactic. You know exactly what you want to say to Klaus and how to say it but you don’t know if it’ll come out of your mouth when the time comes, so you cling to this stupid horrible thought to take your mind off of the sound of footsteps entering the apartment. So you keep your eyes shut when you hear the sound of boots being taken off, when you hear the deflating sigh, the pattering around the room slowly before you hear the sounds of ruffling, probably his coat being taken off. You keep your eyes shut as there's a distinct silence in the room besides your best fake-asleep deep breathing. Like he's holding his breath and waiting for something.
You lay still, keeping up the fake sleeping, as the mattress creaks and dips next to you and Klaus sighs again. He emanates the warmth that had all but been stoked from the apartment and left you shivering. You can feel yourself pulling towards him, wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him and never let go again, but you don't. There's always the off chance this is just a very strong hallucination brought on by the bottle of green fairy on the floor next to the bed. But fuck, if you dont wanna just pull him close. 
“I know you're awake,” he says lowly, so close to you. His face is centimeters from yours, if you had to guess, nose just almost touching your own.
“You know, I used to watch you sleep all the time. You- you do this… this cute twitchy thing when you're out cold,” he continues. He sighs, realizing you're either much more stubborn than he thought or much more avoidant of anything vulnerable than he is. It took him a day of sitting on Diego’s floor while being lectured for his drinking habits for him to realize that he couldn't give up with you. He made peace with the fact that he couldn't save Dave. He couldn't change history, but he could change the future he could have with you if only he didn't let this go. But it was his conversation with your boss that had him worried. It wasn't like you not to show up for work, even if things were tough.
 “You know you’re actually terrible at faking it, right?” he asks, for clarification. You want to open your eyes, to laugh, but you keep them shut and a tear escapes down your cheek.
“Can you— can you just look at me? Please?”
It hurts, it fucking hurts but you shake your head no.
“Oh don’t do that shit again. C’mon, doc, look at me!”
You can’t.
“Your tea went cold. I-I’m sorry,” is barely a whisper. But you say it. And he hears it.
“Hey! Hey hey hey, don’t worry about that. Don’t worry.”
He chooses his next words very carefully. If you were to open your eyes, you’d see him yearning to touch you, a worried and pained expression all over his handsome features. You’d see his hair just as unkempt as yours and the tee shirt he’s wearing is also obviously yours. You’d see those beautiful green eyes doing their best impression of bambi right after the hunting scene.
“What have you... what’s been going on? You haven’t been by the shop.”
“You went there?” you whisper again. Still kind of afraid this all isn’t real. You know it is because you feel his breath fanning out against your face and you feel the bed becoming the warm welcoming thing it once was.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. Margie said you weren’t coming in for a week.”
“She spoke to you?” you wince. Knowing that was probably highly unpleasant for the both of them. Half the time when he showed up at the end of your shift she made him wait outside of the shop and refused to look at him.
“Yeah Margie, christ that woman loves you.”
Your eyes shoot open, startling him a little, but he relaxes by the time your eyes adjust to the dark. You see him and only him. Everything is Klaus.
“Listen, I-“ You start a little too loudly, scaring yourself.
“No, no. Don’t say something you don’t mean. Don’t say it back because I said it.”
Fuck. Fuck is he even going to believe it when I say it? If not what’s the fucking point? You feel more tears pricking at your eyes and you crumble a little. The burst of confidence is gone as you curl farther in on yourself, feeling your legs brush his as you let out just the tiniest choked sob. He’s frozen, and your hand is searching, blindly grabbing against the sheet until it comes in contact with his. Hurriedly, as if he would sift through your fingers like sand, you entangle your fingers with his and squeeze as hard as you can. Like if you let go he goes too. You can’t lose him again but it sounds like a break up. It sounds like what you remember a break up sounding like.
“Please,” fuck you sound pathetic.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. It’s okay if you don’t love me back. I can go stay at Diego’s or Vanya’s or something and we can figure out how to get out of the lease early. Anything you want. I just wanted to let you know I meant what I said. You’re not a replacement for anyone. You’re who I want. But you don’t have to want me back. I’ll... live.” he finishes flatly, devoid. 
Your heart is officially breaking. Into a million tiny fucking pieces. A memory comes to the forefront of your mind in that moment. The first time you choked him. The way he looked up at you. The way you realized at that second just how many people probably took advantage of him in the past. The way he probably thinks you’ve done to him now too.
“No, Klaus please listen to me,” your voice doesn’t sound like your own, doesn’t feel like your own. You feel far away from him even though his hand is clasped in your own. You feel like that scene in the graduate where Dustin Hoffman is interrupting Elaine Robinson’s wedding. Screaming and slamming fists against the glass trying to change your fate. Trying to get him to see.
“I was scared. Fuckin terrified. I- I- I- I’ve never said those words and meant it before,” you gasp between sobs now much more eager to spill out of your mouth, “It wasn’t you, I got in my own head about it. I got surprised. I love you, Klaus. I love you so fucking much I  didn’t touch a fucking thing in this apartment because I was afraid somehow that meant you wouldn’t come back. I know I’m not replacing Dave. I know. I don’t know why I said that. I've wanted to take it back since the second I said it. I've hurt so  many people and I hurt the one person I didn’t wanna hurt. I never wanna hurt you again. I love you. fuck. I don’t want to stop saying that. I love you.”
Klaus... is surprisingly quiet through your little speech. Maybe it’s because you can’t control what your voice is doing, and you’re crying. He’s staring at you so hard it feels as if he's trying to look through you, see the transparencies, see the truth in what you're saying. You want to shrink under his gaze, knowing he's trying to sus out if you mean it, feeling vulnerable each passing ticking second.
But then his hand squeezes yours back just as hard. If he squeezed hard enough he could easily crush a few of your bones, and you'd let him if it meant he understood.
“You do,” more a confirmation than a question.
“I do.”
“Say it.”
“I love you.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you,” with more force, more conviction.
“Once more, with feeling!” a smile is beginning to grace his lips.
“I fucking love you, Klaus!” you shout pretty much directly into his face. He doesn't mind a damn bit. He presses forward eagerly; releasing your hand only to roughly cup the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin. It hurts, but in the most satisfying way. Your hands reach and grip for his face, greedily moving your palms over his jawbone as you lock him into place. Klaus is dizzying in his fervor, barely letting you keep up as his teeth clatter against yours, bite at your lips, his tongue darting between your tasting lips and tickling the roof of your mouth. there’s no letting up to the onslaught even as his hands travel, one hand trailing trimmed nails down your back, sure to leave a mark even with the barrier of your shirt, the other groping at your chest, seeking out a nipple to harshly pinch, making you squeak into his mouth in shock at his actions. As possessive and kinky as he could be at times, he has never been this rough with you. And you like it. He takes the time to bite down on your bottom lip, pull away, shake his head a little before mercifully releasing it and putting his forehead to yours.
“Oh you, you—“ he draws out, scoffs, “you wicked thing. You had me worried.”
“I’m sorry,” you gasp.
His grip on you softens, relaxes. His eyes shut just so, full of contentment. His nose nuzzles forward until you're cheek to cheek, and you can feel your cheek isn't the only one that's a little damp.
“Stop apologizing. I have you back now,” he whispers, sounding the most at peace you've ever heard him. He presses a kiss to the skin right at the place where your jawbone and ear meet, making you shiver at the sound of contact. He pulls you flush with his body, a tight hug, just holding you there before maneuvering your body so you were laying flat, your chest and shoulders pressed to the bed while he presses kisses to your face.
“Trust me,” he says, and you do. He lays himself back down, on top of you, and fuck, you love this. You love when he lays on you, when you feel his weight resting on you. Earlier today you thought you'd never feel this again, and the fact that thought was false has you grinning from ear to ear and reaching back to play with his curls as his arms find their way under you to hug you as you chant your love for him like a mantra. And then you feel it. Klaus is hard as a rock. Poor thing, it's been almost a week for him, when the two of you were so used to going at it basically anytime you had a spare half hour. Playfully, you grind back into him a little bit. Nothing that means business, but just a little brush of your ass against his cock to have him squirm a little. He reacts immediately with a growl and buries his face in the side of your neck to kiss and bite your neck and shoulder, while one hand removes itself from the hug to slide up your shirt again and blindly grope at your chest. Two can play at this game. You grind back again, a little harder, a little more deliberate in your movements this time. You're both chuckling as he starts to grind back, both feeling extremely free and confident in your control over each other's bodies. He knows he could have your sweatpants off and be inside you in under a minute, and you know you could easily have him blow his load in his pants if you keep it up teasing him like this. But how long can you really keep it up without wanting to give in to your own desires? You're painfully aware that it's been days you've had to survive without Klaus’ touch, too.
“You wanna end kiddie hour here?” he asks, and he couldn't have asked soon enough, because you're shimmying your sweatpants down with clumsy help from your hand that's somewhat trapped under him and laughing as he just as blunderingly removes his. Neither of you bother to fully remove them because the second his cock makes contact with your skin you're sighing and reminding him you love him. He lines himself up with you without using his hands like this is something he just instinctively knows how to do. 
When he pushes into you, you whimper. Full on whimper like it's too much even though this is something you've done hundreds of times with him, but somehow it's new. Maybe making love isn't just a sentimental name for fucking. Maybe you're making love for the first time. Maybe now you know the difference. He brings the arm that was under your shirt back up and trails it down your arm until it gets to your hand, where he rubs his palm against your knuckles, almost inquisitively before tangling your fingers together and squeezing. Holding it in place. His other arm reaches just a little further, hugging you from behind and giving your waist a little squeeze as a ‘get ready’ signal. You tilt your ass back up at him a little as he pulls out, thrusts back in again. Only this time his thrust is punctuated with an “I love you”.
And so is the next one. 
And the next one. 
Until he works up a rhythm that leaves the both of you moaning and stuttering. You hike up one leg, changing the angle so slightly that his hips snap up into you in a way guaranteed to bruise. You’d happily have it hurt to sit for the next week if he kept fucking into you like he would break you. Klaus puts his full strength into fucking you, legs pinning you to the mattress as he uses the arm that’s holding your hand for extra leverage. Sweat dripping off of his chest as he kisses your back and moans and laughs into your skin. It’s times like this you remember your partner is fully trained in combat. For someone so lean, he’s strong, and he has strong control over the muscles in his body. It’s like a kind of clairvoyance he has to know exactly what parts of your body to touch, what to do to have you losing it around him all the time. Is Klaus Clairvoyant? You think as the angle of his thrusts changes ever so slightly, but still at that rough pace, now making your clit grind into the sheets beneath you making you scream out.
“That’s right, baby. You feel good?” he groans. Little shit.
“Yeah,” you whine, looking back to make eye contact.
“Who’s making you feel good?” Oh, he’s working for an ego stroke as well as a cock stroke. You’ll give it to him. Klaus deserves it.
“Oh, fuck— y-you, Klaus”
“And who do you love?”
“Fuck. You, Klaus! I love you so much,” words leak from your mouth like a sieve. “I love how- how you fuck me so good.”
“That’s right, and now I'm gonna make you come. Trust me.”
That's the second time tonight he’s asked you to trust him. You do, unwaveringly.He gives you no time to react before he speeds up his thrusts and the hand around your waist dips lower. He leans off of you a little, giving you a little more space, but plunges his hand between your legs. instead of stopping at your clit, he goes as far as to push a finger, his middle finger, up into you as well. And then the bastard curls his finger just slightly. The action has you turning into the pillow to scream. It's too much. It's too much. You've never been this full in your life and now it feels almost sinful how easily you are coming apart for him. You're shaking and with the added pressure of his finger you can feel just how hard your body is squeezing his cock. You can feel tears leaving your eyes for the second time tonight as you babble about how much you love him and your body jolts for his touch. He finishes too, inside you and happily pushed into the hilt. The whine that leaves your throat when he pulls out finally is unfair and needy. Already missing being so full of him. He rolls back over so that he's not on top of you, and pulls you in tight.
“I don't want to stop saying it,” he mutters into your hair, and you wait for him to continue patiently. 
“I don't want to stop saying I love you.”
“Then don't.”
“I won't. But I will throw away this take out. This lo mein is old. It smells.”
You laugh loud and hearty, and he gets up from the bed, fully kicking his pants off as he does so, and there's no fear that he won't come back to bed with you this time.
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celosiaa · 4 years
Note
I dont know if you're taking prompts at the moment but when you have time if the idea interests you what about martin greying after their time in the apocalypse and growing a beard and being distressed because he looks like his father. jon comforts him and helps him feel better about his appearance. maybe some soft domestic comfort where jon helps martin dye his hair and shave the beard away to look like himself again.
hi friend!!! thank you for this prompt, it’s probably not perfect bc I wrote it really fast!! But I hope you like it anyway :)
CW panic attack
When Jon wakes, head still spinning in the light of the sun, Martin is once again gone. And Jon is so, so very tired.
Tired of the weariness, the deep ache that has settled so heavily in his bones he is unsure if he will ever truly shake it. Tired of the sapping away of his strength, as he attempts to rebuild, day by day by day even after a year has gone by since the end of all things.
Tired of waking up alone.
It’s a wonderful thing, in a way, to know that something is wrong with Martin rather than Knowing it—the realization that he is, in fact, able to discern when something is bothering the love of his life is a rather comforting fact, after everything. Even so, he finds himself frustrated. Frustrated with the fact that he cannot intuit the source of his husband’s distress, much less pull anything out of him.
Martin is shutting down. Plain as day. And it terrifies him.
Running a hand briefly over the Martin-shaped imprint beside him, long gone cold, Jon props himself up on too-slender arms, waiting a moment for the spots to clear from his vision, and standing on too-slender legs. At once, he reaches for his cane at the bedside, finding his injury sitting heavy in his hip this day—and heads quietly out of the room and into the hall.
If Jon had not known better, he would never have guessed that Martin were there at all. For the entirety of their normally-cozy, tiny little flat seems nothing but desolate and dustladen and darkening, ever darkening. Something Lonely creeping through every window sill, beneath the outside door, through the vents—
Streaming from the open bathroom door.
Of course, Jon had seen it coming for days, had tried to warn Martin of the fog carried on each of the few words he has spoken over the past few days. But it did not matter—Martin has often explained how muffled everything becomes while he finds himself once again in this place. Muffled and meaningless and fading, fading. Buried under guilt and fear and apologies, so many apologies that Jon could drown in them.
And now, perhaps—just perhaps, he might let him in. If the open door of the bathroom is a sign to be taken as hopeful.
“Martin,” he calls as he approaches the doorframe. “Habibi, are you alright?”
Upon looking in, he finds Martin leaning over the sink—staring with empty eyes back into the emptiness of his reflection in the mirror, fog swirling so thick beneath his glasses it’s a wonder he can see at all. The word that comes first to Jon’s mind is frozen—and he cannot help but hurt over just how long he has stood here, alone and in his private grief, limbs shaking ever so slightly in their static hold.
“Habibi,” he starts again—quieter this time, stepping a bit closer. “Look at me. I’m right here.”
He follows these words with resting a hand against his forearm—ever so gentle and cautious, yet Martin jumps bodily all the same.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Jon continues, without moving his hand away.
“…what?” is the eventual reply, so dim and far away it echoes, swirling around Jon’s head dizzyingly.
“Look at me, Martin. Can you look at me?” he pleads, beginning to rub his hand up and down his forearm now, anything to create some warmth over his ice-cold skin.
“Jon.”
“Yes. Right here, please look at me.”
At last, at long last—Martin turns his face away from the mirror, the fog beginning to dissipate from his eyes as soon as he meets Jon’s. The ache of it all sends something twisting in his stomach, over the fact that this still happens so regularly, that Martin still struggles to be open, even with him, even after all this time.
And buries it.
“There you are,” he soothes as he slips a hand up and into his hair, beginning to stroke through it as Martin starts to come back to himself. “You with me?”
He blinks a few more times, slowly, strangely—before tensing suddenly beneath Jon’s hands, eyes blown wide as he gasps in a breath.
“J-Jon—”
“Easy. Easy, now,” he murmurs easily, grasping at his arm once again. “Just sit down. You’re alright.”
“Jon—”
“Sit down, my love.”
Back to the wall, Martin slides down to sitting braced against it—bowing his head between his knees at once, one hand against his throat as he gasps for something beyond the fog to fill his lungs. Jon steps over his feet—coming to rest on the side of the tub, leaning forward to keep a gentle pressure moving across his shoulders as he works through the panic. All too common panic, unfortunately.
“I’m here. I’m right here.”
As always, Jon feels so helpless here. He knows there is very little to be done but to sit and wait, talk if it helps, stop if it doesn’t, always keeping that contact to ground Martin in warmth. Every time his heart breaks—and every time he swallows the lump in his throat, no matter how thick with fog it may be.
“I’m right here.”
Several minutes pass this way, rapid breaths fading into rhythm, color returning back to Martin’s skin, the fog at at last dissipating into the floor beneath them. And finally—finally—Martin looks up, eyes just barely meeting Jon’s for a moment before he covers them in shame.
“God, I’m so sorry, Jon,” he croaks, scrubbing over his eyes as he speaks. “Happened again.”
“No need, habibi,” Jon replies, as always. “No need.”
And still the silence remains for a while, Jon’s hand never leaving Martin’s back, Martin’s hand never falling away from his eyes in his misery. It is in this moment, feeling his husband shaking beneath him for the third morning in a row, and the fourth this week, that Jon makes a decision.
“Martin,” he begins, pausing to worry at his lower lip for a moment. “Martin, please…please tell me why this is happening.”
“You don’t need to worry about it,” comes the terrible reply, the one that tells Jon there is so much hurt still left to heal in his soul.
“I am worried. And will continue to worry, because I love you.”
A small huff of laughter behind a ghost of a smile.
“I love you too,” he replies, as if still shocked he is allowed to say it.
“Then please—talk to me.”
“It’s silly—it’s nothing, I dunno why it’s bothering me so much,” he continues, at last letting the hand covering his eyes fall and rest atop his knee. “And—and I’m sorry it’s—it’s worrying you. But I’m alright.”
Yet another small and fragile thing shatters in Jon’s chest over this—this utter falsehood, that he would ever see Martin drowning in the Lonely and think only of himself. That he would ever think that way.
“I-I wouldn’t—this isn’t about me, Martin,” he assures, refusing to bely the hurt pushing against the steadiness of his voice. “I know that you are hurting. Please—please tell me why, and I will help.”
“Jon—”
“That’s all I want. Is to help.”
A moment—a long, terrible moment in which Jon cannot be sure he is trusted, cannot be sure he is ready to talk. That he will have to accept whatever the next breath brings, even if it hurts. Even if it hurts.
Please please please
“I—like I said, it’s silly, right?” Martin begins to choke out, tears rising immediately as he begins to speak. “I-I know it is. And I’m just going to sit here and blubber about it like a fool.”
“It’s not silly if it hurts you.”
“I—well, just—just wait till you hear it,” he says tremulously, letting out a terribly damp little laugh at the end, swiping at his eyes yet again. “It’s just that—with the, the grey, and the—beard, I—god—I look just like my dad.”
And there it is at last, the aching truth of it all. The trauma Martin would rather call silliness. The panic he would rather call a terrible display of dramatics. The tears he will apologize for in three, two—
“God, I’m so sorry,” he bursts through gritted teeth, trying desperately to make a noise sounding something like laughter.
“Martin—”
“It’s so silly, I—”
“Stop, stop.”
Catching both of Martin’s hands in his own, Jon grips them tightly, tilting his head in a gesture that begs Martin to look, please look at me. And when he does, eyes still brimming and barely holding together—it’s nearly enough to do Jon in altogether.
“It is not silly,” he begins forcefully, gently. “You have every right to feel upset by this. This—this pain makes sense—and it is real, and it is justified. Alright?”
The damp smile Jon receives in return is enough to tell him that Martin does not really believe him, perhaps he never will—but that his words are appreciated all the same.
“Now listen. There are some things we could do that might help, alright?” he continues, starting to massage Martin’s hands gently as the tears begin to fall in earnest, trying to keep his shoulders from shaking. “I could—I could help you dye it. Any color at all. And—only if you want—I can help you shave. If you think it might help.”
A laugh—a real, if still damp, laugh comes from him then—cast in the glow of a genuine smile. As it always has and always will—it sets Jon’s heart fluttering with love for this man, for his anchor—for his love. For his always.
“Yeah, I—heh—” he begins, swiping away the remaining wetness with another laugh. “Early thirties is a bit young to go grey, I reckon.”
“Is it now?” Jon teases at once, a grin spreading wide across his face, tossing his own greying hair over one shoulder. “Is that young to go grey?”
“Oh come off it,” Martin says, rolling his eyes, bumping a shoulder against Jon’s leg. “You know what I meant.”
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voidcat · 3 years
Text
– “Friend” is a four letter word
Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou / gn! reader
requested by anon, prompt 1
wc & genre: 2k - mostly fluff, a bit angst by the end
a/n: the title is literally a 1 trait danger song title, pls dont come @ me, i just thought it was nice to use bc “love” is a four letter word so yea,, also pls dont ship ppl irl or ask them too many Qs abt their relationshio even if they look so good together n should date bc it is rlly rlly annoying (speaking from experience)
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The first you meet Kuroo Tetsurou, you don’t even notice.
It’s not surprising, he’s quiet and doesn’t gather attention. You don’t go looking around and keeping an eye on everyone either. The most is you’re just two fish in the vast sea, unaware of one another, too tangled with your own lives.
Then comes a moment, nothing special, almost out-of-a-movie type. It begins with a joke, if it can be considered that. It’s bad, awfully bad, a horrible pun in the middle of chemistry and from the volume of the voice you can tell they hoped no one would hear. But you do, so does few who sit next to him and your giggles dance around in the air. You don’t notice it’s him at that time but you grow to recognize his jokes in the following time.
Kuroo Tetsurou feels like a mystery when your eyes lie on him one afternoon. He’s not bad looking, a part of a sports team, a key member even. And yet compared to all the other jocks he doesn’t bask in the attention, in fact, he doesn’t receive any. Others like to brag and talk smug, as if they’ve discovered life in an inhabitable area and then there’s him. You can’t even tell he plays in the team if it’s not for the uniform and tracksuit he’s in after classes.
You think to yourself, if only jocks were like him. Still, you take no step and neither does he.
Maybe neither of you need to because the universe is more than happy to provide the nudge you both seem to need.
Funny enough it’s a science project that starts it.
He’s too quiet to your liking, speaking only when absolutely necessary. As you desperately try to kill the silence that hangs in the air, he avoids it as hard, making so little sound.
An idea comes as fast the lights are on and you speak before you even get to think ‘what’s there to lose?’
“No science puns for me? What happened, cat got your tongue?”
To say he is baffled, is the understatement of the year. You’re not sure if he’s surprised you’ve heard him joke or want to hear more of them; but either way, he looks cute, with his guard down, at a loss of reaction, mouth slightly open and – is that a hint of blush on his cheeks?
It only goes upwards from then on.
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Awkward conversations is how it begins, seeking each other out in close environments is where you’re leaded.
You find yourself enjoying the way he talks, listening to what he has to say, the way his face brightens up when he starts talking out of pure interest. You only hope he feels the same way about you, and from the way he often discreetly directs you to take the lead and pick the topic, he does.
In a short span of time, you two are attached from the hip. Inseparable, always doing something, going somewhere, discussing a thing or just laughing. Shy smiles replaced with a Cheshire-like grin, almost ironic considering your school’s name, that’s only a new expression on him that you like to see.
It feels freeing, natural; as the sea sighs, the rain drops hit the surface and the sun shines. Two peas in a pod, thick as thieves, inseparable…
This goes beyond high school and throughout university too, which you’re grateful for. Because times come when you wonder where would you be without him, what would you do without his support; so you thank the stars once again, for having him in your life even today.
Then comes the times you wish you didn’t spend as much time together because the people around are being insufferable. All you want is to hang out with your best friend but half that time is stolen away by the never changing questions. Those who keep asking if you’re together, as an item. As if it doesn’t rub the salt in the already existing wound, it sure makes things unbearable. Getting approached by people you never saw before is no fun, neither is dealing with those who have the audacity to think you owe an explanation about your love life.
“But why? The two of you spend all the time together! Sure you must be in love!”
As if platonic relationships do not exist, surely do you have to love someone in that way to care for them? Loving Tetsu is a case that matters to only you, you’re happy knowing he cares for you, maybe not in the way as you but at the end of the day, the bond is there in plain sight, on your sleeve.
“But you guys would look so good together! Have you given dating a try? I’m sure it’d work out! I understand if you want to keep things a secret but come on, you must have had something going on-“
Stop, stop, stop…
It gets exhausting after a while, showing its signs on you, the irritation high and your nerves are at the edge, he notices it not long after.
After a little persuasion, you spill it all out, ranting about the pent up anger you had bottled all week –month maybe. You don’t notice the way his shoulders slump as you talk and go on about the stupidity of the people. It misses your attention how he talks less than usual that day, even after the mini ranting session. You do, however, notice how he starts to act strange around you. More preserved, and not as chatty as much. Holding his touch and avoiding contact, not going out of his way to approach you any longer. This drives you crazy, hurts a part of you and you worry –what if he has grown bored of me? Did I do something to hurt his feelings? Does he like someone and avoids me to get in their eye? What has happened, what did I do wrong? And goes and goes and goes the worries and the dynamics shift in your friendship.
So with the change of dynamics, you try desperately to hold onto what you once shared. Soon enough it’s you who invites the other to outings.
When your coffee offers are denied, you bring up walks, after that study dates, as he tries to ignore one attempt of alone time, you come up with another and one evening you find yourself asking to go to a party.
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Campus parties with him, are interesting, to say the least. It stings when you’re separated, a punch to the stomach when he’s awfully close to those who were flirting with him, a new kind of torture when he keeps his talks with you short at the scene but at the end of the day you always leave, together, and you settle with this too, as you settled with all his love you could get years ago.
Some nights with booze apparent in the air, you don’t bug him with questions but each party gets worse somehow, only makes the distance between the two harder.
One night you snap and let it all out, unlike that afternoon it wasn’t an asked question but an aftereffect of him pushing your nerves and once you begin, you don’t stop, letting the storm out and he just looks at you.
You stop and his gaze stays, face devoid of any emotion and you worry, all the words you’ve said dawning on you and with one last attempt you whisper “Aren’t we friends?”
Voice calm and stern, colder than that icy cocktail you had: We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.
Holding back the tears by the corner of your eyes, you blink once and turn your back, steps set on your way. You can’t recall the last time you’ve walked home alone, without him.
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Some time passes, days begin to blur and you try not to dwell on things too much or think about him that much. But the brain is a traitor as much as your heart and you find yourself thinking about him too much to your liking. Not sure whether you want him to find you, you keep an eye out; maybe plan to get out of the eye sight when you spot that messy hair but there’s not much need as he’s never around.
At the same time you’re unaware that this is his way of giving you a break, providing the alone time you needed away from him; as Tetsu tries his best to gather his thoughts and shape the sentences to show how he truly feels, what he actually thinks, he keeps an eye out for you. Even the smallest of smiles on you making his racing heart worse but what lands the final blow is how rarely you smile these days. Knowing he is the reason behind, knowing he causes the weight on your shoulders and the ache in his heart, he wishes more than anything to change this as soon as he can but he is at a loss of words and actions and he hates himself for that.
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When the two of you are brought together once again, as fate pushes you from behind like it did years ago, you’re not sure who looks up first. But it is Tetsu who speaks first, not giving you a chance to say anything back, call him names or yell him insults. And as he talks, eyes focused on you, locked into yours, his gaze warmer than ever, his voice nothing like that disastrous night.
“I know I fucked up and ruined the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. I have nothing to blame but myself, I know, but please. Even though it’s selfish of me to ask this… Would you give me a second chance?”
Letting go of the breath you were holding, you prepare to answer him. He doesn’t let you.
“One last chance… To start over? Because that one sentence, as cold as it sounded, had a truth to it. And I- I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on and pretend like I don’t have- like I don’t have all these feelings in me. I can’t nod along to your rants about how much you hate the people perceiving the two of us as more than friends. ‘Cause you got to admit. They have a point. Maybe at the beginning, yes... But we’ve not been friends, not for a long while. And you know it too whether you want to say it or not.”
As if spoken without breathing once, considering this is Tetsu that was definitely the case ,he gulps and takes a step forward.
“Will you give me a last chance and let me show you how much I can love you? Free of this ‘just friends’ title. Would you let me take you on dates and make you laugh wide and loud? Not just as your friend but as your boyfriend? As your partner in crime and in life, as Persephone is the pastel queen of hell in the realm of Hades, the sun to my Icarus, the Sodium to my Chlorine?..”
His speech was getting to you until the last sentence, your softened body goes stone cold, hands hanging in the air, Tetsu’s last pleads of “would you let me?”s falling deaf to your ears.
The gears turn quick and he realizes exactly which one of his words could leave an effect like this, be so ridiculous and bring you to a halt.
One of those smug smiles you saw on his face often, he says “What happened, cat got your tongue?”
And your mouse hanging open, all you can do is smack him on the arm, as hard as you can, for that awful salt simile and for using your words on you.
Before you know it, both of you are laughing and the air feels warm once again.
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tags: @celosiiaa​ @boosyboo9206
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straycat-writes · 4 years
Note
i saw that you write for ikemen vampire as well, so if it's alright with you i was wondering if you could write headcanons for mozart, vincent, comte, and arthur with a depressed/suicidal s/o who's main coping mechanism is humor? like they joke abt suicide a lot + make jokes abt feeling shitty when asked since they dont wanna worry anyone much but their jokes start getting increasingly concerning bc its smth i do a lot lol,, u dont need to do this if ur not comfortable.. thx and love your work!!
anon added: wait fuck i just remembered only three characters for headcanons so just do it for mozart, vincent, and arthur. thank u!
notes: Whaaat, come on, you cannot just do my husband dirty like that, of course I’ll do all four 😆 Before we begin, since everyone experiences stuff like this differently, our experiences might not be exactly the same, so these might not be universal. In any case, I hope you feel better 🥺💕
trigger warning(s): depression, mentions of suicide, and suicidal ideation.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
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He did notice the jokes each time, but at first, he didn’t necessarily feel the need to intervene.
Once was alright, he thought you might just have a different sense of humor. Twice was morbid, but he brushed it off. But thrice was downright worrying, and he was starting to suspect something might be wrong.
He observed you make increasingly dark jokes for weeks on end, and brush off anyone who tried to ask you about them, before he decided that enough was enough.
“What is wrong with you?”
It’s a blunt question, completely tactless, but only because he’s actually quite concerned and doesn’t how else to put it. Nonetheless, it catches you off-guard.
“What do you mean?”
He rolls his eyes, “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). Have you been spending too much time with shitty Dazai again?”
When you don’t say anything, the scowl on his face melts into a concerned frown. He wants to help, he really does, but it’s hard for someone like him to deal with such heavy feelings, whether his own or someone else’s. After all, words have never been his preferred medium of expression.
So, he decides not to use them. Instead, he envelopes you in a long, silent hug. It’s a little stiff, but when you start crying softy on his shoulder, he gives in and pulls you even closer, gently stroking your hair.
Up until then, you had no idea that the stern, ice-cold Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart could ever feel so…familiarly warm and soft, with his arms around you.
“I’m not asking you to confess anything, (y/n). I’m not even asking you to tell me anything. I…actually have no idea how to fix any of this, but…Just…know that you don’t have to deal with this on your own.”
Vincent van Gogh
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Out of everyone, it would probably take Vincent the least time to notice when something is wrong with you.
The morbid humor is one thing, but what really concerns him is how hollow your laugh has started to sound, and the glazed…empty look you get in your eyes when you think no one is looking.
He notices because he knows what to look for, because he has already seen too much of it, in himself.
“(Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”
“Hm? Yes, of course, Vincent. Why do you ask?”
“…Why do you think?”
There is a certain look in his eyes, so wistfully sad, as if mourning something he hasn’t even lost yet, and you just know that he knows. There is no use lying to him. In hindsight, you think, you should have known you could hide it from anyone except him.
When a lone tear slips down your cheek, he gently wipes it away and holds your face with both hands, looking into your eyes. To your surprise, and immense pain, his own are glistening with tears too.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“…Because it’s my problem and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”
You realize it doesn’t make much sense now when you say it out loud, but you knew he was all too familiar with this complete and utter despair, this emptiness you felt inside of yourself, and you never wanted him to feel it again, even if it was by proxy.
But now, he stands in front of you, hands on either side of your face, and he places a chaste, gentle kiss on your forehead. He doesn’t say anything, but you realize what he means. I’m here. I understand. You’re not alone.
(note: for those who don’t know, Vincent van Gogh committed suicide at the age of thirty-seven.)
Le Comte de Saint-Germain
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He is used to the residents of his mansion having…strange sense of humor and habits, honestly.
Even so, when you make a jest about killing yourself for the fifth time in a row, he can’t help but be worried. There are only two explanations, you either just have a very, very dark idea of humor, in which case there was nothing much he could do except gentle advisory, or there was indeed something very wrong.
He keeps hoping it’s not the latter, but days pass and your jokes keep getting more and more morbid, and any attempts to talk to you about the issue are only met with smooth elusiveness.
“I’m only kidding, Comte. Of course, I’m not going to throw myself off the roof. Probably.”
“…I think we need to talk, ma cherie.”
That sentence in itself is enough to scare anyone half to death, and when you have so much to hide, even more so.
The talk is long and tedious, with quite a lot of repressed emotions involved. On your part, first there is the defensive anger. Of course, there isn’t anything wrong, how dare he imply otherwise? Then there is the desperate denial, because ‘ignore the problem until it goes away’, right? Except, this problem isn’t going away on its own, and you both know that.
Finally, there is the reluctant acceptance, and a lot of crying. Throughout this, he is as calm and collected on the outside as he always is, even when you grip the front of his coat and cry in his embrace. You’re barely holding yourself together, so he needs to be your support.
But on the inside, there is a storm raging. You were supposed to be his responsibility. He was the one who brought you here, and he was just watching you wither away like this in front of his eyes? What kind of a person did that make him? Just how much of a failure is he?
“I’m so sorry for not noticing sooner, ma cherie. I have failed you.”
“Wh-what?”
“I was supposed to protect you from everything, including yourself. Evidently, I have failed at that, and my heart aches at the thought of you suffering all on your own. But I intend to rectify my fault a thousand times over.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, and without a warning, more tears spill.
Arthur Conan Doyle
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Peculiar taste of humor is kind of Arthur’s brand. He enjoys his shamelessly perverted jokes, so he assumed you enjoy your dark ones.
Even so, he does get a little worried when he notices how your first instinct to almost anything is self-deprecation and jokes about killing yourself at the slightest provocation, and how you laugh a little too loud and too much when asked about any of it.
The more he notices, the more concerned he gets, and the more confused about just what to do about it.
At first, he tries to deflect your morbid jokes with some of his own, just to see how you would react. But the moment he talks of killing himself, you go pale, asking him to stop with such distress in your voice that he ends up feeling guilty.
But even after that, it doesn’t stop you from doing it yourself.
“Welp, guess I’ll just go drown in a river somewhere.”
“Ahahaha, but consider this, how about you…don’t?”
He’s always so playful, and even fickle that it almost slips your mind that he is a writer, after all, and a very observant one at that. He is intelligent and notices every little thing, even if he doesn’t show it. That includes the fact that your laugh has been sounding more and more empty lately, your smile seeming more and more like fake plastic.
So, when he confronts you about it, it takes you by surprise.
“Whatever do you mean, Arthur? I’m fine.”
“Right…Stop lying to me, (y/n).”
You frown. You should have known how hard it would be to hide anything from Arthur for too long. How long did you really think you could keep up this façade? The realization comes like a slap to the face, and it’s almost like your metaphorical mask drops. You start crying.
He is distressed at the sudden turn of events, but tries his best to console you. As he hugs you to his chest, gently rubbing soothing circles on your back, he wonders if he could have done something to help you sooner.
“Listen, sweetheart. I don’t claim to know what you’re going through, but I do know that you need help. I know I cannot just fix whatever…this is, but I can promise that I’m going to be here with you, through everything”
You laugh bitterly, “It gets ugly.”
“I don’t care.” He shakes his head, “I’m going to be here with you, whether you want me to be or not, and I promise to hold you together as you scream your throat raw trying to hold yourself together, promise to…stand by you as you save yourself. You do not have to do this alone.”
He kisses you softly, only for a moment, soft and true on the lips.
“Show me every dark and hideous, every bitter thing about your soul…and then, let me love you anyway.”
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jpegjade · 4 years
Text
Void - Spencer
I’ve weighed whether or not to put this one out there. i’ve spent a day just sitting on it, editing, and rewriting some parts. i decided to put this out there bc i realize that i have friends here who go through the same things i do and it might help them. so to all my friends out there, old, new, or the ones i have yet to meet, i’m sorry we’re in this but i’m happy we’re in this together. 
Warnings: Okay so i will say this now and i mean it: if you are struggling with depression and feel uncomfortable during any point in this fic, do. not. read. the. rest. i tried to scale back a little bit bc i wrote it when i was having a really bad time (and probably still having that time rn lmao) so i didn’t include details and it’s a little bit ambiguous but it’s dealing with a hard topic: hopelessness and suicidal ideation. like i said, nothing graphic and no details but it is suggestive and real. so no fluff. 
__________________
The world is such a dark fucking place. There’s nothing good in the world. There’s nothing good for you to experience anymore. The world was a dark, tar colored hell. 
Nothing brought you joy. You could fake it so well on the surface, pretending the world was in color for you. The only colors you experienced were void of emotion, void of feeling, just void. The world around you was void of joy, happiness. There was nothing you wanted more than to escape. Any version of a sweet release would be perfectly fine. Something that you could deal with, some way to deal with the world. 
“Hey.” Spencer said, bringing you out of your thought bubble haze. He walked through the door, gripping his satchel.
“Hmm? Hey baby.” You plastered a fake smile on your face just for him. 
Spencer knew you were going through a rough time but he didn’t know exactly how bad it was. He didn’t know you had written notes for each of your family members and Spencer. He didn’t know that you thought about the easiest way to go, what required the most courage and the least amount of energy. He didn’t know you were scared to leave. 
“You look tired. Have you had a nap today?” He said, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 
“No, I’m okay. Just tired in general, I guess.” You said, watching him put his bag down. 
He came over to sit next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. He smelled like fall. You wondered if you would miss that, if you would miss him. Would you miss anything?
“Well, maybe we can relax together? Take a nap, watch a movie?” He looked down at you, stone faced as ever. 
“Yeah, maybe.” You said, staring off into the distance. Everything seemed to be off in the distance for you, all of it. The future, the past, now. It all seemed so far away from you. The world seemed so far away from you. 
“Are you okay? You don’t seem like you’re all the way here.” Spencer said, kissing the top of your head. 
“I’m just tired. Maybe I will take that nap with you.” You put on another fake smile, getting up to get something to drink from the kitchen. Everything was so exhausting, even Spencer. 
You hated that you felt that way. You loved Spencer with every part of you, you never wanted to let him go. But you just wanted to take off, go somewhere, escape. That’s all you thought about: escaping. 
“Hey, y/n? I’m going to get changed out of these clothes.” Spencer called, hoping you heard him. In one ear and out the other, just like everything else he said lately. 
You always felt so bad when it came to Spencer. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t deserve to go through this. You didn’t want him to deal with you anymore but any time you brought it up to him, he promised you weren’t a burden. He always promised you weren’t a burden but you knew, deep down, that he was lying. He was lying to you in exchange for your lies to him, pretending you’re happy when you’re miserable. The two of you were lying to each other and to yourselves. He knew you weren’t okay but wanted to believe otherwise. You knew Spencer was attached to you but you pretended he was detached from your relationship. 
“Baby? Come lay with me?” Spencer called, being needy. You loved when he was needy when you felt well. When you were feeling good, you loved the fact that he was open to show a type of emotion, even after all he went through. 
“Only for a little while.” You called back, downing half a glass of water really quickly. 
You climbed into bed, curling into his lap in bed. He liked when he could hold you just as much as he liked being held. You sat there silently, annoyed with the fact that anyone was touching you right now. All you wanted was to disappear. 
“Can we talk?” Spencer mumbled. 
“Yeah, sure.” You really did try to sound upbeat but in the end, you weren’t able to do it. 
“How are you really doing? And please don’t lie... “ Spencer said, sighing. 
“Spence…” You just wanted everything to go away, just like this conversation. 
“Look, I know I can’t fix this. I have been looking for ways to make this better for you because you are suffering and I see it every day. I can’t… I don’t know how to stop it and I’m scared that you’re going to do something that I really can’t fix.” He said, slowly. 
“There’s no way to stop this.” You said, flatly. “You can’t stop it and neither can I. I’m beyond help. The meds don’t work. The therapy doesn’t work. The coping mechanisms dont fucking work and I’m so damn tired.” You said all that without emotion and it scared Spencer. 
These days, you scared Spencer more than any murderer did. His greatest fear was losing you and he fought to keep his head straight because he knew he had you. All this time, he knew he had you and it was terrifying him to think that you could be gone today, tomorrow, the day after that and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Could he?
“You can’t leave… Not like this…” Spencer said, trying to rack his brain of different responses that might help you. He couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t selfish, on his part. 
Everything he had to say was selfish. It was all about how he didn’t want you to go, how he would feel, how he would be affected when you were gone. Everything he thought of was about him and that frustrated him. He just wanted to help you, not try to guilt you into anything by making it about how he feels but… 
“Spencer, there’s no point. Okay? There’s no point in going through the motions anymore. I am in so much pain on the inside, nothing fills it. I am so tired. I feel alone constantly. I feel like there’s nothing left for me here. I am broken. I am broken. I am broken.” You started crying but you weren’t sure why. 
Spencer just pulled you close to him, feeling your body shaking. He couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness or if you were just cold but your body wasn’t still. 
You tried to get up, get away from him, run, but he held you tighter. You just wanted to get out of that room, get out of your skin, get out of existence but Spencer wouldn’t let you. He just held you close and rubbed your back. 
“I can’t make you stay. I can’t give you this fake positivity. I won’t guilt you into staying. If you want to do this, it’s ultimately up to you. But what I can do is tell you that I love you. I loved you when I got to know you. I love you now. I will love you no matter what you decide to do.” Spencer said. He sounded so fragile, like he was going to break at any moment. 
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Spence.” You said, numbly. “All I know is that I can’t live like this. I can’t survive like this. I wasn’t built to survive this and I’m so scared of what comes next…” 
There was a silence and you heard Spencer sniffle. He was truly at a loss for words. How could he miss that it was this bad? He was a profiler. He knew that everyone had an end game but he couldn’t tell if your endgame was leaving him or not, leaving this world or not. So he just sniffled and stayed quiet, trying to hold everything back. 
“Spencer?” 
“Hmm?” He responded, nervous. 
“What’s the easiest way to go? I’ve done research but… I wanted to ask my smartass boyfriend.” You chuckled and it turned sour. It wasn’t funny but it was a reflex. 
“Can we please not talk about this? I want to help you get better. I want to use all my energy trying to figure out how to help you feel like living is worth it. I don’t want to think about finding you…” Spencer’s voice caught in his throat. 
“Would you miss me?” You whispered, staring blankly at the wall feet in front of you. 
“Y/n…” Spencer paused. Your automatic thought was that he was going to pull bullshit out of his ass so you could feel better. You sighed, prepared for something generic. 
“You don’t realize the effect you have on people, on me. The world is so dark to you because you are a beacon of light. You are the lighthouse in everyone’s storm. That’s why everyone comes to you, looking for hope. You are a shining light and everyone sees it but you. Your world is dark because you look out and see nothing but the darkness, nothing but the storm.” 
Spencer’s breath wavered and you felt his thumb start moving across your thigh. He was nervous and fidgety, hoping he said the right words. 
“I miss you every moment I leave for work. I miss you on trips. I miss you at the office. I miss you whenever you’re not holding my hand. I miss you when you’re at work, when you can’t talk to me. I miss you. So yes, I would miss you if you weren’t here for me to come home to. And I know that might be comforting for a moment but at the end of the day, it’s not about me. It has never been about me. This is about whether or not you have the will to stay, whether or not you want to be here.” Spencer’s heart raced. 
“I guess you’re right.” You said, growing tired. You had a lot to think about.
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ashenhawkfeathers · 4 years
Text
my elaborate plot so I can have both HawkAsh & Mothpool
this is unedited and all over the place and IDK if i’ll ever do anything with it but whatever gonna post it,,, og canon is stupid have this instead Anyways here is my main canon changes for Ashfur & Hawkfrost ((i’ll add more cats later)) Ashpaw grew up being friends with Bramblepaw so when Brambleclaw tried to reunite with his half brother Hawkfrost, Ashfur ended up tagging a lot a lot and the two got lots of feelings for each other but didn’t do anything about it UNTIL Brambleclaw left on the big journey and then Ashfur and Hawkfrost originally hung out bc “oh we miss bramble” but they got really gay instead Meanwhile on the journey Bramble’s compulsive heterosexuality and wanting Firestar’s approval convinced himself that he “in love” with Squirrelpaw and Squirrelpaw’s own denial and guilt of her own sexuality just went along with it ((she totally had a thing for Feathertail))Anyways blah blah journey stuff - main replacement is Leafpool fell in love with Mothwing instead of Crow and Moth was trans so she’s the eventually other parent of the trio Tigerclaw continues to train the brothers in the dark forest but this time Hawkfrost doesn’t eat up his manipulation because he develops love for Ashfur and holds bitterness @ his father for murdering Ashfur’s mother and all the angry feelings of his father never being around for him and blaming Tadpool’s death on the absence of his father etc etc Hawkfrost DOES still want him and Bramble to become like a Thunderclan and Riveclan leadership duo like he’s still ambitious and bulheaded at times - just not bloodthirsty like Tigerclaw wants them to beSquirrel flight is offended by bramble’s friendship with Hawkfrost and they have their big fight and hangs out with other ppl, Ashfur 100% sees her a niece in this canon and is just protective over her like he is with his sister Leafpool and Mothwing do the run away thing - Hawkfrost distraught that his sister is gone goes to Thunderclan to get Bramble to help, Squirrelflight lashes out on them, but Firestar intervenes wanting the safety of his daughter and says he’ll let Bramble go look for Hawkfrost, Squirrel protests a little but calms down when Ashfur offers to go with them as well ((no one knows of Hawk and Ashfur’s relationship))Leafpool gets the dreams of Thunderclan being under attack and Spottedleaf persuades her to go back Mothwing is sad about it but says they’ll always have excuses to see each other being medicine cats On their way back they’re meet with Hawk, Ash, and Bramble who are relived to see that they are safe and sound However they don’t dawdle as Leafpool gets a strong vision of Thunderclan under attack and they run to their aid Hawkfrost at first tries to argue with his sister to leave the Thunderclan cats on their own but refuses to go without helping and he relents because he wants to protect Ashfurblahblah tragedy Cinderpelt dies (cries) which seals Leafpool’s fate as being the medicine cat of Thunderclan Hawkfrost and Mothwing return home IDK prob some very Gay shit happens between Hawk and Ash during the battle idk who will see but it happens Over at Thunderclan, Firestar accepts Greystripe’s “death” and makes Bramble deputy Hawkfrost seeing his brother be named deputy and still being prideful brat wanting to be leader and adored by the clan still encourages Mothwing to make a fake sign about Stormfur and Brook but big reason for this is Hawkfrost blames Stormfur for Feathertail’s death and Feathertail was one of the few cats who was always friendly to Hawkfrost and Mothwing etc etc Tigerclaw tries to encourage his sons to be bloodthirsty and take the leaderships themselves, alone he belittles and shuns Hawkfrost into doing what he wants Hawkfrost sets up the trap for Firestar but tells Ashfur what’s going on out of guilt and asks if he will save Firestar before it’s too lateAshfur rush with Firestar’s daughters to save them but Brambleclaw and Ashfur are still fighting because they’re both conflicted on their own loyalites Ashfur pushes Brambleclaw out of the way to save Hawkfrost and gets an injury in the process with makes Hawkfrost panic as he never saw Ashfur bleed so much beforeHe willingly goes with as a poisoner because he’s afraid Ashfur to die without him and Firestar observing this eventually has a discussion with Hawkfrost when Ashfur is deemed safe Hawkfrost in emotional exhaustion and protectiveness of his mate admits to Tigerclaw training he and his brotherFirestar says he can leave and he won’t tell Riverclan of his attempt to kill him if he breaks ties with Tigerclaw Hawkfrost is conflicted but talking with Ashfur when he first awakes he reluctantly agrees to Firestar’s terms Leafpool discovers she is pregnant with Mothwing’s kits and panics telling her sister that she needs to pretend she is having Brambleclaw’s kits - Squirrelflight who was on the path to accepting she was a lesbian and not attracted to Brambleclaw finds herself back to square one and fake her own happiness with him for her sister’s safety Mothwing is aware of Leafpool’s pregnancy and is angry with the concept of clans and only wants to be with her mate, one day she vents to Hawkfrost about all of this, Mistyfoot over hears Mothwing’s (nonexistant) beliefs about starclan and tries to get Leopardstar to throw out Hawkfrost and Mothwing for “scheming” against their clan as Hawkfrost escalates with argument way too fast and Mistfoot acts like a dick bc of her anger with Hawkfrost mostly Hawkfrost and Mistyfoot have a physical fight to where Mothwing defends her brother before Mistyfoot gives him a fatal injury Feeling betrayed by Riverclan Hawkfrost no longer longs to be leader of a group of “cowards and traitors” This leads him to tell his sister that they should just go to Thunderclan and be with their mates Stormfur tries to argue that Hawkfrost is just like Tigerclaw but Firestar welcomes the siblings Hawkfrost not wanting to be around Stormfur hints that he should return to Riverclan which the two consider this or returning to the tribe Hawkfrost is very melancholy and negative, only cheered up by the presence of Ashfur, and cold toward other Thunderclan cats Mothwing eagerly tries to convince Leafpool to be truthful about their kits and it causes a lot of stress and arguments between the two- Squirrelflight over hears one of this and begs her sister to go with the truth as she doesn’t love Brambleclaw and knows Thunderclan will come to accept Leafpool Leafool eventually agrees and a lot of cats are disappointed or unhappy with her but Firestar silences their disapproval and accepts his daughter and her mate Mothwing publicly being the parent of Leafpool’s kits is what seals the deal for Hawkfrost and Mothwing staying in Thunderclan During the next big meeting Leopardstar, conflicted, tries to convince Hawkfrost and Mothwing that they belong in Riverclan and that Mistyfoot was too harsh on them But Hawkfrost very aggressively denies this suggestion, he is extremely bitter against Riverclan which gives Mothwing the courage to say no as well even though Leopardstar pleads they dont have a proper medicine cat The gathering gets very heated but Brook offers to medicine cat if Riverclan were to welcome them back and Leopardstar and Mistyfoot agree Leafpool eventually gives birth to the Trio, taking place in the nursery as Mothwing takes over being official medicine in the meantime and the clan upset that Jaykit is born blind but his mothers love him regardless Hawkfrost actually becomes a very stubborn defend of Jaykit’s potetional as a warrior Hollykit being super close to her mother’s and thus becoming very engrossed in medicine still becomes medicine cat appretience Lionpaw still gets Ashfur as a mentor but Ashfur is less of an OOC asshole Brightheart works hard with Jaypaw to use his blindness to his advantage and Hawkfrost becomes a second pseudo mentor as the clan still feels too weary about Hawkfrost to give him an appetence but it’s his sister kit and ppl believing Jaypaw cannot become a warrior bc of the blindness pisses Hawkfrost off Hawkfrost is the first to learn of Jaypaw being able to walk amongst other cats dreams but encourages him to keep him to himself as the clan would use “any excuse” to have him not be a warrior
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