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#i want to sleep but my body literally cannot stop shaking
nobodywritingao3 · 2 months
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months
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How would TF141+Konig,Nikolai react if their reader drunk and told them about how reader family used to sold reader at brotherel.
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Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about prostitution, mention of trauma, and foreshadowing on murdering. 
A/N: Definitely took my time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it!
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Captain “Price” John:
Whiplashes at you, nearly breaking his neck as he places his cold-glass down on the table. 
“Sorry, what?” 
He’s pissed. He cannot fathom why anyone could possibly do something so awful to his sweet darling, but he’s heartbroken, too. His heart shatters when you explain it, going into detail of what happened. And soon, John’s hands find themselves on yours within a heartbeat, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, and squeezes them occasionally. 
If you blow it off, saying it’s no biggie, John gets angrier. It’s not fine, and his tone is firm, and large hands that’s on top of yours aren’t letting go. And soon, he softens — bringing you into his lap, kissing the crown of your head. Hands running up and down your back, whispering to you of how special you are. 
And soon enough, later that night when you’re sleeping, his mind is wide-awake and angered. Wondering if your family is worthwhile to get a visit, teach ‘em a lesson or two.
From now on, John is so gentle with you; checking in with you first and won’t push you for anything. He even suggests therapy, or perhaps couple-therapy, to help you in some way. He wants you to know he’s here for you, as that’s all you have. 
Your parents are nowhere to be seen. The news has reported them missing, and it’s weird that John had come home after an hour when their bodies had been found, right? 
Simon “Ghost” Riley:
Whiplashes so hard, his neck popped as he looked at you. The cheap beer that you and him were drinking is set down, the loud clanking making the silence even louder, and his brown-doe eyes are staring at you. 
“You bein’ serious?”
Simon is fuming, absolutely seething with rage at how they used and hurt you. And he’s extremely tempted to find all of them and break every single bone in their miserable body. How on the earth could they hurt and betray you, you, the literal light in his life like that? 
“Love, you can’t jus’ drop a bomb like that and expect me to be all natural with it,” His tone seethed. He tries to soften it, he really does, but his rage with what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through the built-in cracks. And it’s clearly showing his not-so pretty side. 
But as soon as he sees your face, his heart re-breaks all over again. And within seconds, he pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet words of love and promises of safety; kissing every part he can reach until you tell him to stop.
If you haven’t already cut ties with your family, Simon immediately does it for you — anger shown and his tone sharp. He removes them from any way possible of how they could connect to you, even going as far to put a restraining order against them. But, if they decide to be snide, and try to take you back? Simon is more than happy to use his physical strength to scare them away. 
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:
He laughs uncomfortably, before he really thinks and chews on the words a little more. His eyebrows crease against each other, fingers tightening around the beer bottle, as he looks at you very concerned. 
“Wait– what was that?” 
Kyle watches you go on, rambling about it as if it’s not a big deal, and he’s in pure shock. He’s not sure if you’re putting a brave face on, or if it’s the alcohol, but either way, it’s making him mad. His hands are shaking, his heart thundering in his chest, mind going a mile a minute, trying to understand the concept, but he can’t seem to get past the anger part. 
“Baby… when did this happen?” he generally questions, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks for something in you. He’s worrying. Wonder what it’s done to you, someone he loves so deeply, and he can’t fathom the idea that something so horrific happened to you. 
Within seconds, he apologizes. Brown eyes looking at yours, barely forming tears. He’s pulling you into a tight hug, holding you deeply, and finding a way to blame himself. If he’d known you sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve protected you. 
But, that doesn’t help the situation — so he focuses on you, helping you through things and ensuring you’ll be safe. Because you’ll always be with him. 
Kyle tries to help you in every shape and form, making sure your boundaries are set and that he follows them knee-deep. And that, of course, your family doesn’t come near you. If they try to push through the cracks, he’s immediately acting viciously. And it’s not pretty.
 —
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:
He chokes on his drink, coughing up a storm. Hitting him like a ton of bricks, and somehow, you look at him like he’s the one who said some type of sex joke at the wrong time. 
“I– beg your pardon?” 
He’s right in the same area with Ghost, furious in many aspects. His face shows it. His body language, and thick voice. When you’re describing the multiple incidents, it just makes him want to track down your family and rip them in two. 
Comfort is immediately given, Johnny’s arms find yours within seconds, and you’re brought into a cuddle session — one where he kisses every part, and promises that you’ll never have to face them again. He looks at you, blue eyes just admiring you before kissing your cheek, “Nobody will hurt ya’ again, swear on my and ma’s life, sweets.”
And he goes with it. Days pass, and he’s still thinking about it. He sees you so strongly, and how you’re able to go about your day and act as if it’s normal; his heart beats faster at your sewn thoughts of even crying. 
Without saying, Johnny despises your family. A bitter emotion that can be easily shown if you bring them up into a conversation. His hands crunch in remembrance of their scared face, and you won’t be seeing them anymore. You can’t. 
König:
He just looks at you, seemingly going deeper into your soul. Which, of course, creeps you out. König watches you explain, with a flushed look, and he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek. 
“Hase, what’d you say?” 
He just keeps staring at you. And he doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, because he’s not — never in a million years, but it’s devastating to him. How could someone, a family that you’re supposed to trust, do that to you? 
“König?” your voice brings him out of his deep thoughts, bloody thoughts, and he just looks at you before bringing you into his chest; a man, so large and beefy, has a voice so little and fragile, that you could barely hear it. He sighs, “Why did you hide it? I’d much rather you talk to me, okay?” 
He’s obviously affected, but not as much as you are. He’s in a state of disbelief, and the fact you just blurted it out, whilst in a vulnerable state, makes him sick.
He’s unbelievably more clingy the next few days, ensuring you know your own worth and how strong you are. Everywhere you go, he’s touching you — smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes as his hands crawl underneath the fabric. Kissing you and nearly suffocating you with his weight. 
As for your family, he ignores and diverts the questions of them into a different conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you, but with the things he’s done, König is certain you’d be smart to connect the dots. 
Nikolai: 
Not a single laugh, or fun look comes from Nikolai. He’s immediately concerned, the shot glass being put down as he really looks at you, biting his lip. 
“Think that’s enough alcohol, Lyubimyy. Why don’t we head to bed, hm?”
He doesn’t necessarily react — but more so tries to make you sidetrack so you two can focus on something else. Until, the next morning, is where he re-brings it up and asks. He’s concerned, dark eyes showing sadness that’s covered by anger. But your feelings matter. They will always come first. And when he sees your reaction, Nikolai quickly understands, “We can talk whenever you’re ready, mkay lovey?” 
Nikolai comforts you with the best of his abilities, ensuring that you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite, and you’re so strong. His hugs become deeper, kisses become longer and more intimate. 
And the gifts he brings home, even to the grocery store, are enormous. His sly smile as he carries them in definitely takes your head off some things, no? 
Your parents are immediately cut out of your life. Nikolai has secrets of his own, and once in a while, he has to take out the dirty trash, right? Before he leaves for the day, a mission needed for Laswell, he promises to be back before 5 PM; and he does, arriving all giddy and flirty. But his hands seem a bit too warm, a bit odd. 
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phfenomena · 4 months
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❝dancing in the refrigerator light.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader
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| request- tom and reader baking while the background song is stand by me (let us all be delusional)
| A/N- i love this so much you have no idea. this shit got me ENTHRALLED also i imagine this as like right after ‘you’re my best friend’ happened…a part two perhaps..
| WARNINGS- food, dancing, touching a burning hot pan bc you’re too busy looking at tom, and big ole kissies
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(divider by @v6que)
you stand in your kitchen humming along to the quiet music flowing through your house, mixing the blueberry muffin batter. it’s well past midnight at this point but you find it impossible to fall under the blanket of rest.
you left tom snoozing soundly in your bed, not wanting to bother him at this hour. a small smile plays on your lips as you zone out while mixing and think about how well everything played out so well with him. you hone back in to your mixing before you feel tom rest his chin on your shoulder.
“you’re supposed to be asleep.” you whisper, leaning you head onto his as he hums and closes his eyes. “can’t stay asleep, what’re you making?” he questions right next to your ear making your face slightly warm, your crush on him will never go away. “blueberry muffins. my mom always used to make them when we couldn’t sleep.” you confided in him softly.
you slide the baking pan into the oven with a slight screech from the metal on metal. you sat on the kitchen floor in front of the oven and set your timer, tom taking a seat next to you. “what are we doing?” he whispers through the silent air. “watching the muffins.”
the ‘watching the muffins’ eventually turned into you guys sitting on the couch kissing and telling stories. he’d tell you his set stories and you’d laugh and shake you head at him. the sight of them engrossed with each other was saccharine and sickeningly sweet. the familiar ding from your apple timer caused you to sit straight up and pull tom towards the kitchen again.
as you open the oven you look over to see tom, shirtless only clad in pajama bottoms licking the remaining batter off the spoon, illuminated by the moonlight and small warm lamps scattered around. before you can even realize that your hand was still moving, your skin came into contact with the boiling metal. you draw your hand back with a hiss and swear under your breath.
tom quickly turns the faucet to cold and places your hand under it, turning around to take the muffins out and turn the oven off. you start to quietly giggle as you pull him apart with your eyes, once again. “what happened, love? i thought you were a whiz in the kitchen.” he runs his hand up and down your back and you lean into him.
“i was, i am, i just couldn’t stop looking at you. you’re like a literal angel that i can’t believe is real.” you whisper to him while turning your head up to him and smiling. you hold your injured hand out to him “i almost died for you. that shows my dedication.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes before pushing your hand back under the water.
you both sat cross legged on the kitchen floor, each with a glass of milk in front of them and a muffin in hand. “so worth it. i don’t even need my left hand if i can have muffins forever” you joke with your mouth full with the pastry. tom raises his eyebrows at you “i, however, do think you might need both hands to function…and other activities.” he confidently spat out his sentence causing you to throw your head back laughing to hide the blush that made home on your cheeks and the warmth that tom manages to propagate throughout your body.
the speakers, who had been forgotten about, start to quietly leak out ‘stand by me’ and toms face lights up and pulls you up to meet him. he bows and sticks his hand out to you, asking for a dance. your smile cannot be contained as you take his hand and quickly remember you also cannot dance. the pair of you looks almost like a baby giraffe- although the giraffe might dance better.
you eventually give up on the waltz and wrap your arms around toms waist and hug him. “i’m really fucking tired.” you say into his chest and you feel his body vibrate when he laughs. you lift your head up and his comes down for your lips to meet. after more than enough kisses tom tries pulling you back to bed. “i thought you said you were tired?” “i am, i’m grabbing a muffin for the trip.”
you feel as if a piece of the sun had fallen down and nestled itself into your ribcage, but that’s just tom.
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khristie16 · 2 months
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The fast and forbidden
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Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.
— chapter 4 Both are conflicted after their intimate experience. What Charles’s jealousy makes him act in a way is wasn't recognized even from his friends
warnings: 18+, masturbating, jealousy, angst
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That night was wild. As i went back to my room I felt embarrassment linger on my insides and I pushed my back to the right apartment door as I shut them behind me as if that would stop me from being hunted just by what happened. It never ever crossed my mind that literally my boss would have seen me naked under any circumstances. The cold shower did not help me from overthinking practically anything, it felt like I’m not even in control of my thoughts. I groaned in displeasure and went to my bedroom. Staying quiet to perhaps hear something from his room and cursing myself for even doing that after what has happened. Getting in my bed didn’t quite help me, it made my feelings for Charles even worse.
The next day I wake up with sweat covering my body, I hold my chest as if something has convinced me this body is no longer mine because it wasn’t when was Charles touching me. His fingers laced on my hot skin and my legs trembling as if he is the owner of my body and my body is no longer mine. His sinful eyes full of uncertainty of what’s to come and I believe I’m going to shatter right at the spot I was sitting on my bed here in a hotel. His touch was getting lost in my soft skin, and I swear I felt something inside of me, something that was growing and when I looked down it was him, entering me again and again until I screamed and woke up from this dream.
I thought I’m going to be sick. This is a lot to take, and I cannot function like that on daily basis. If there is one thing that I’d love, is to be able leave this dream pass but it feels like I took the most out of the dream. And I seem to cannot go back.
A sound coming from my phone startled me till I jumped on the seat still covered in sheets. I stand up with a hold of breath to look of who is it. Part of me was scared it might be Charles and I would have to approach him. But instead, a little disappointment filled my body when I saw the guy from yesterday has messaged me. What was his name again? Ah yes, Patrick.
His comforting questions about my well being made me pause for a sec and made my body to relax. But it was soon replaced with anxiety. What am I supposed to do with this man now? I cannot shake the feeling of the..., dream, perhaps nightmare, I cannot say. I still have the perfect image of Charles on top of me doing all of those…. In and out movements. It makes me sick, and ashamed. God damn, I shouldn’t be dreaming about such things. But I shouldn’t be hard on myself that much, it’s enough that Charles was hard on me…literally.
I shake my head to somewhat shake the thought off and I finally saw clearly the words typed down on my phone again.
Hey! Yeah, I slept well.
I toss the phone on the couch again and make my way to a bathroom. In the mirror reflection I see flushed cheeks and dirty hair. How can someone have passionate sex and look good meanwhile? It was just a dream and yet I look like if I had truly experienced that. Maybe it is because it felt like that.
Charles’s POV
Charles couldn’t sleep immediately after YN has left. He didn’t understand why he was wide awake, but he caught himself afterwards he is still going back to the image of YN being naked in front of him in his bedroom. It made him feel some shivers running down his spine and he couldn’t judge if it is good or not. All his awareness was filled with her and after staring blanky on the ceiling he gave up on sleeping and went to bathroom to jerk himself off. He tried hard to not make it obvious to him that he had a certain image in front of his eyes in his mind, but he couldn’t hide it that well. He knew this delusional act and pretending wouldn’t last long. So, as he fell to his bed again, he felt a sudden emptiness in his body, and he fell asleep with the last thought of YN in the blank space he fell in his stomach.
Charles now has found himself in a cafeteria lobby with his friend Joris. As they were casually talking about tonight’s upcoming night out, he finally felt good about being able to think just about anything else but her. But it didn’t stay that long. As if Joris knew since the beginning there is something of with Charles related to YN, he took a good look at Charles before speaking up. Joris knew Charles has changed and that is why he even offered for a personal assistant position to take place, but his cold demeanor to her was something everyone saw. Either if it was Carla or Andrea. Everyone saw through him that it was a weird thing to watch at. And as so for Joris as one of his best friends, he wanted to push Charles to his limits.
‘I saw YN yesterday.’
Charles stuck a little in his movement before trying to smooth his behavior to a more relaxed one. Good for Joris he has and excellent eye for a detail and it didn’t run from his attention.
‘Okay. So what?’
Joris chuckled rather quietly and liked this game already. Pushing your best friend about a topic his friend is clearly passionate about was something thrilling. To be honest, there is a very fine line between passion and hate. And with hate there comes anger or resentment.
‘She was with a man. A fine man, luxurious car and stuff’
Charles stuck in his movement again but swiftly get back to his previous position. Now the chuckle left Joris’s lips. He was met with a furious gaze from his best friend as he asked.
‘What?!’
Joris laughed and tried so hard to hide it but failed. He put his fist in front of his mouth to mask it with a cough, but his eyes couldn’t lie.
‘Nothing, just nothing’
Charles didn’t like what was Joris doing. He is not dumb, he knew. But he wasn’t mad at Joris, he was frustrated with himself.
‘Well, she can do whatever she wants.’
Joris eyes went high on his forehead as he couldn’t believe Charles let himself be this obvious.
‘Something happened Charles?’
An awkward silence filled the space as a waitress approached their table to refill their drinks. Both acted as if nothing happened and Joris was getting curious if there was something more in this situation between those two. As the waiter left their table Joris made it clear what his intentions are with a loud cough and gesturing for Charles to talk.
Charles refused to give in and acted like a little bitch.
‘Nothing happened!’
He reached for his refilled drink just to spill it on his jeans and grunted in pure discomfort. Not just about jeans, but about his best friend pushing him. He took his mobile phone and went upstairs, leaving Joris in awe.
During the day Charles focused on trainings and both acted like the other didn’t exist. But as much as Charles has tried to forget about what is happening inside of him, the more he lingered back in thoughts to her.
YN POV
It made me sad to be in such a position. The last thing I thought was that Charles would be acting so cold towards me. On one side I get it that it’s for the best, because of what had happened, but I remember fondly his remark from the evening. What a shame you’re leaving. I really don’t know what to make out of that. It looked like he was toying with me. And I don’t like that. But at the same time, I am the ‘victim in here’. I was put in a vulnerable position and even though Charles has nothing to do with how badly I took this experience, he didn’t have to be so cold towards me. Not more then before. I wasn’t well aware why I feel this way, but I definitely didn’t like it. That is why I shift my focus on Patrick. I deducted since Charles is completely ignoring me, I will be free tonight, as the same as yesterday, what won’t be the same is my naïve brain leading me to his apartment.
I’ll pick you up at seven;)
As I was preparing the beautiful dress for tonight’s event with Patrick, I added some light blush on my cheeks that matched with my red lipstick going well with long gown dress, perfect for a night out in a luxurious restaurant with a handsome man. For the first time this day, I smiled softly to myself and put on high heels. With all the pain conflicting inside of me I forgot the pain of wearing heals. At least I gained something from this fiasco with Charles. Or whatever it is.
I reach for the door to head out and with the swift of air brushing my hair I see Charles with his fist in the eye level to knock, I suppose. I stay still and watch him in confusion.
‘Hi’
He made an awkward presence with his greeting; this was another level of confusion. How can one act to cold and then when they open their mouth, they sound like a lost tad?
‘You’re heading somewhere?’
I stopped the thinking cycle happening again in my head and composure well.
‘Well… yes? I was planning to head out, I assumed you don’t need me today.’
He titled his head and furrowed his eyebrows as If I had said the dumbest thing ever. I scoff internally.
‘And why did you assume that?’
That’s where he got me. I didn’t ask, He didn’t tell me. I was naïve again to think that. Or more of so it was his fault he did not say a thing. But I am under him and If I want to pursue my dreams, I need to have this job. At least to keep it for a month or two.
‘I’m sorry, I interpreted the message wrong. You need me for today’s evening I suppose?’
He just nodded and start with his eyes looking at me closely from head to toe. It was hot suddenly. *gulp*
‘I see you are ready already. Let me change and we can go,’
‘Where?’
He gave me a wink and left me speechless on the mid way from my room to the corridor. I was getting more and more mad at him. I gritted through my teeth and went inside to sit down and write a message to Patrick. I was sad at one point that I’m going to miss on this date.
Hey Patrick, I’m sorry, but work came into my plan for this evening. I would love to dismiss such obligation, but I cannot unfortunately:( xoxo.
Left with my thoughts, Charles opened his door and came out in full tux. He looked hot. And my mouth agreed since I had to fight it hard to not gape. Put yourself together.
‘Let’s go’
That’s all he said and there was just silence between us. I didn’t know where he is taking me, but I really didn't have much of a choice so instead I stayed silent till the full ride to the destination.
Another boring event. A lot of people, too many champagnes and too much obnoxious talk. Or am I just hateful? I couldn’t care less right now. All I wanted to be spared of this, but I guess I have some job to do here as Charles’s personal assistant, which I couldn’t quite put the finger on the reason for bringing me here.
As we stayed by side and observing what’s happening around us, some old man approached us. The next thing boiled my blood. Charles’s hand landed on my waist on the back and pushed me closer to him, just a little but it was known to me. I was too lost in confusion to say anything about it, plus I didn’t want to make a scene. Not because of Charles, but because of me. I prefer peace rather than conflicts. So, I obeyed and acted however I was supposed to do in this moment. It is not like anyone expected me to talk so I wandered around the room to see a familiar face. Patrick.
My eyes almost fell out and the anxiety that numbed my limbs was almost too much to bear. Patrick was clearly confused and did not understand. I started shaking my head as a try to tell him it is not what it looks like. He stayed looking at me but then took his focus on Charles. He eyed him up and down. I don’t’ know what I wanted in that moment, but I was clearly just stuck. My mind and my body.
‘Hey YN’
I turn my head around to see Joris. The anxiety level rose high, and I scarred looked on Patrick again, but he was fortunately not looking at my direction now.
‘Are you alright?’
I turned again to talk to Joris. Charles was aware Joris came in and he left the embrace on my back. I took this opportunity to escape to Joris instead.
‘Hi, sorry. I’m just overwhelmed.’
His eyes went straight to my back, looking straight through my middle and right back up.
‘I can see that.’
I shook my head and excused myself to go to the lady’s room.
*inhale* *exhale* again and again
Did it help? Temporarily. I escaped now but I cannot keep running from myself. I should have said something before. In the car on our way here. I should have said more to Patrick so this situation wouldn’t escalate to something bigger than it is. But what I know? I don’t know what Patrick thinks.
‘Whatever’
I got fed up with the same second and opened the doors to walk back, yet again, the same pair of green eyes hunting me everywhere.
‘What happened YN?’
At this moment I was feeling sorry for Charles. Because I was furious. And I raised my voice. At my boss.
‘What happened? You are asking me?’ I scoffed so hard it was visible for anyone to know how furious I am, ‘You’re the one who should be answering that question! What was that about huh? The touching? Holding my waist?’
Charles’s eyes showed conflict and fear as he didn’t know how to react. This was the first time I saw him not knowing what to do or say, his confidence far away from him now.
‘I- ‘
‘WHAT’
He shut his mouth immediately and looked mad. I exhaled and let my shoulders to fall to relax.
‘I’m sorry for raising my voice at you.’
Charles was still silent, but no in his mind. There was clearly something happening. He opened his mouth but shut it again.
‘YN?’
We both turned our gaze to the right to see Patrick. In the field of my eyes, I saw Charles’s composure to stiffen, and his face hardened.
‘And you are doing what exactly?’
A visible mockery in his voice lingered its way to Patrick who stopped walking towards me, confusion transformed to disgust and took a defensive composure.
God help me.
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nvoirs · 3 months
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𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣
Summary: An after party for exams is missed because of salient reasons! Definitely nothing more..
Disclaimers: MDNI 18+ only, Fuckboy Leon au, Unprotected sex, Both reader and Leon are in their twenties, cream pie, degrading language, shower sex. Literally this is written bad.. I haven't written in months ok! not proofread because I cannot be bothered. Requests are back open.
⠀ꔫ
An after party was being held as a celebration for everyone completing their exams by a very well known individual in your year, almost everyone was going to it minus the nerds but it had definitely been at least an hour since the party started. Your friends were probably wondering where the heck you were, because it wasn’t like you to show up late to anything.
Leon had decided to let himself into your dorm room, thankfully Claire wasn’t in when he did so otherwise it would have caused a whole lot of controversy. You see Leon and you had been fucking around for the past few months or so, yes quite literally fucking and as you thought about it now you couldn’t help but pinch yourself. Because how did you, a well mannered, straight A goody shoes get with someone like Leon? Claire was very well aware of the fact that you two were sleeping with each other, she’d make jokes telling you guys to not “mess around near her bed or stuff” before leaving for her class.
Leon was notoriously known around campus as a fuckboy. Definitely not something to be proud of, but you didn’t expect anything more than having your back blown by him every time he’d approach you. You wouldn't even call it friends with benefits, because you and him had never just hung out without him leaving you all sweaty and flustered on your bedspread telling you he’d “catch you later” basically telling you the next time you’d get to fuck.
So when he decided to let himself into your dorm room while you were in the shower, you didn’t expect someone to fling open the shower curtain exposing your naked body to whoever was behind it.
“What the fu-! Leon, what the hell are you doing?” You gasped, covering your breasts and trying to squeeze your legs together.
“Relax sweetheart, I’ve seen it all before you don’t have to hide from me.” The shit eating grin made you sigh before removing your arms from your naked body.
“How did you get in here? What if Claire was home! Wha-!” He’d pressed a palm to your mouth muffling your yelling.
“I just wanted to see you, that's all.” He shrugged his shoulders.
You slapped his hand from your mouth sighing, “Leon if you wanted to see me you wouldnt come charging into my bathroom while I’m taking a shower, you wanted to fuck me admit it or your getting nothing.”
“Oh, that’s easy then I wanted to fuck you ok? God those other girls just don’t know how fuck like you do.”
You cringed at his words but laughed, “Ok I forgive you, but don’t say those words ever again, its cheesy as fuck got it?”
“Deal, so can I join you?”
“Lock the damn door first.”
“Oh your right, my bad.”
He quickly shuffled to the half cracked open door to the bathroom, snapping it shut before making sure it was locked.
He's taking his clothes off before you know it, and hopping into the shower your back to him as you reach for the soap bottle.
“Let me help you with that princess, I’ll help scrub your back.”
“Thanks.” You replied dryly, rolling your eyes at his attempt to slow things before they got too heated.
He was humming, rubbing the soap into your back and massaging your shoulders making you release a quiet moan.
“Hm, what was that?” he teased, finger ghosting over your clit.
“Nothing! Just help me wash up. I can't be late, and why aren’t you coming anyways?”
He laughed, “These types of parties aren’t my thing, they're more or less for nerds sorry to shake your pretty little head, princess.”
He really needed to stop calling you that, it made your hole clench around nothing, cunt beginning to dribble slick out.
“Yeah whatever, I’ve got better grades than you at least.” Your voice cracked at your last word, as Leon began to stroke your clit causing you to buck your hips upwards in shock.
“I knew you’d like it.” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath making you shiver in delight.
“God I’m going to cream pie you and make you walk around the nerd party with my cum inside of you.”
You moaned at the thought of it, “Please” you whined grinding your ass on his now erect cock.
“Fuck, I’m going to give it to you so hard just wait.”
He rubbed your pussy this time, smearing your arousal across your clit and entrance. He slipped one finger inside, began to push it in and out and looked at your turned back for a reaction.
You cried out in pleasure and pain as he inserted a second finger beginning to finger yourself open.
“Mhm yeah just like that, stretch me out”
He growled in response before sliding his fingers out of your soaked hole.
“Mhm Leon help a girl out would you?”
Rubbing your ass against his hard cock, you arched your back like a feline whining.
“Help you with what exactly? Speak up.” He growled becoming impatient from the sheer like of not being inside you right now.
“Help fill me up please, need your cock massaging my insides and stretching me out.”
“Well fuck if you insist.” Without any warning he parted your pussy lips and pressed the tip of his cock into your hole making you moan.
“Fuck princess, your literally sucking me in god you can't live without this fat cock breeding your pussy can you? Leaving a fat load inside of you”
You mewled in response, as you pushed your ass backwards, forcing your pussy to swallow him all.
The warm water cascading down your back and dripping down where you and Leon were connected made you feel drunk.
Still cockwarming Leon he gently tugged on your hair, slapping one of your hardened nipples.
“Aren't you going to be late to your little party.” He chuckled.
“Ah don't care about it, anymore.” You winced from the stretch your pussy took sliding such a fat cock into your tiny little pussy.
“Well this is my way of celebrating your end of exams.” He grinned, beginning to move.
He grinded his dick inside of your cunt hitting your g spot repeatedly making your cry out.
Leon reached out to cup your tits in both hands, massaging them both before pinching the nipples.
“Such pretty tits.” He mumbled. “Prettiest I've seen, and I've seen a lot.”
“Leon.” You groaned. “Don't have to brag about being a slut.”
He groaned as your pussy squeezed around him, close to milking him. “I think you like that I’m a slut, squeezing around me so tight like that.”
“I’m going to cum, go faster.”
He quickened his pace, but his hips stuttered as you came on his cock. The orgasm aftershocks leaving you in a frozen state stuck to the shower wall. Your face became flustered as Leon thrusted his cock in and out of your wet hole, the squelching sounds echoing off the walls.
“That’s right, cream my cock baby.” 
His hips faltered before stilling completely, his thick, warm cum filling you up nicely. You felt woozy but full, Leon’s cum dripping out of you.
“Nice cream pie you’ve got there.” He slapped your ass lightly.
“Leon!”
“You missed the nerd gathering.”
“This was better.”
“Oh?”
“Now turn the damn water off before we use all the water on the whole of campus.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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strgrlxox · 1 year
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✧.➷ sex (& aftercare) with ellie
original request here !
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sex ||
i jus know ellie is a switch…
like she definitely tops u most of the time 
but sometimes my girl just wants u to hold her down and have your way with her
it’s kinda her way of saying she trusts u
tell her u want her and she gets so cocky
“ur just so needy for me, huh?”
“look at my pretty girl, all spread out and wanting me”
“all this for me?”
she loves asking questions that u can’t answer
cause her perfect little fingers are curling inside u in a way so perfect it makes u loose ur train of thought
and she knows thisss
cause she knows u and ur body so well
she’s a little insecure also
so she has a praise kink
like a really bad praise kink
tell her how good she’s making you feel
stroke her face
kiss her (slowly, she likes slow kisses)
tell how she’s the only one who can make u feel like this
or else
she’s obviously really jealous
despite knowing you’re hers like she’s is yours
she can’t help but think you’ll meet someone else and realize how much better you can do as if
so, when you go to a party or something
and some rando comes up to you and flirts with u right in front of her
she will dedicate the rest of the night to reminding you how she can make you feel
how well she not only knows you
but your body
she’ll make you come in every way she can
twice
kissing you sweetly in between positions
reminding you how she’s the only one who can make u feel like this everytime u calm from your highs
she’s definitely not the most experienced
but she is a very quick and efficient learner
like seriously
all she wants is to make u feel good
borderline obsessive
not in an all she wants to do is fuck u kinda way
but in a she can get put in the mood at literally anything u do kinda way
ur just so perfect to her
also
u being horny makes her horny
if u ask her boobs or ass
she’ll say
“idk i love them both equally”
which is lie
she likes tits a littleee bit more
big or small
she does not gaf
it gets to a point that u stop sleeping with a shirt on
she’ll just sneak her hands underneath it anyway
she’s so loud
literally cannot control her volume at all when u go down on her
don’t even get me started on how she eats u out
don’t get me wrong–she loves to receive
but there’s something abt giving that just gets her
she could spend forever in between your legs
licking and sucking at u like her life depends on it
“god, you taste so fucking good.”
it gets really messy
you’ll be convulsing and squirming in her hold but she doesn’t not relent
she doesn't like to rush anything that has to do with you
but she’s not opposed to quickes at all
they let off steam
she loves ur whole body
but her favorite is ur lips
she lives for kissing u
she’s versatile as fuck too
sometimes she’ll be gentle with u
like ur a work of art
others she’ll be so filthy
touching underneath dinner tables
abandoned buildings, alleyways, literally anywhere u let/want her
“ellie.” you’d whine. “we could get caught.”
“i’ve never let that happen before, baby, have i?”
you’d be propped up on a bathroom counter
you’re probably at joels house
and she’s looking up at you, you can see her eyes sparkling through your tears
she’s on her knees before you
making your back arch with her tongue
“besides, baby, you taste so good. let me make you feel good, alright?”
ellie gets off on your pleasure
she’s almost methodical when she’s touching you
thinking of all the ways she could touch you, taste you, make you cum
she can never stop at one
taking her time, she slowly brings you to release
again and again and again
until ur begging her to stop
your legs shake for like 15 minutes afterwards
and ur so fucked out
she hold you while you’re breathing steadies
whispering praises in your ear
the sound of her voice is the only thing keeping you grounded
“ur so good to me, y/n. always so perfect for me.”
aftercare ||
she gets rly tired but refuses to fall asleep until u do
will bring u snacks and water
gets u whatever u need
cleans u even if she’s exhausted
showers with u if u aren't too tired
sometimes she’ll run u a bath but u always make her join u
she complains abt all the bubbles but she actually loves them
they smell rly nice
sometimes she’ll let u hold her afterwards
it took a while for to be comfortable being little spoon
but it’s grown on her
don’t even bother putting ur clothes back on
she is a skin to skin enthusiast
all she wants after to sex it to make sure ur okay, and to feel ur body heat
and ur more than happy to oblige
she gets rly soft and sappy after sex
maybe it’s cause she’s tired but she’s on u like moss
tracing ur skin
making sure she didn’t hurt u or anything
she compliments u so much afterwards
“god, u r so beautiful.”
clingy as hell
seriously, unless it was a quicke or something, she’s not letting u go
she likes it when u lay on top of her
with ur head in her neck
and ur like straddling her waist kinda
she’s says it’s so she can make sure ur safe
but rly
it make her feel safe
play with her hair
please
it’s a must
755 notes · View notes
cloudcountry · 10 months
Text
SUMMARY: You realize how much Trey Clover has helped you while brushing your teeth.
WARNINGS: Mentions of bad self care (not eating, not drinking), Reader is very depression-coded.
COMMENTS: hi you guys might think i'm stupid for this but that's TOO BAD!!! i am projecting myself onto mc so hard right now because this is personal.
trey clover is literally the reason i take care of my teeth even though i never had the energy for it before. he's the reason i brush my teeth twice a day because he was my first twst obsession (although it wasnt romantic ^^") and i was like "hey wouldn't it be silly if i took care of myself?"
cue me months later actually falling into a routine of taking care of my teeth. he pioneered my self care journey and its so STUPID because he isn't even REAL but i cannot thank this fictional man enough. he got me out of bed when i felt like i couldn't get up.
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It hits you like a ton of bricks as you’re brushing your teeth in Heartslabyul’s bathrooms.
The toothbrush in your hand suddenly feels a lot heavier, the minty taste of toothpaste in your mouth shocking you out of the hazy sleepiness you’d been enveloped in. You look up from the point where the mirror meets the sink and stare at your reflection, bubbly white foam lining your mouth and eyes wide.
When did this start?
You didn’t use to care for yourself like this. There were days when you would go without eating for long periods of time, days when you wouldn’t drink any water. There were times when your body screamed for you to stop, to sleep, and you didn’t listen. There were times when you knew you needed to talk to someone but kept it all in.
There were days when you couldn’t even do something as simple as brushing your teeth twice a day.
And now you were.
You had been brushing your teeth twice a day for weeks now. You were even flossing. You grip the edge of the sink and try to hold back the rush of emotions that floods you, creeping up your throat like you’re going to be sick. Great Seven, it shouldn’t have been this big of a deal. It was so small, so stupid and insignificant but it was so confusing.
“Hey, sweetcakes? What’s wrong?”
You barely register the bathroom door closing behind you and the sleepy green-haired boy that comes up behind you, resting his hands on your arms. You shake your head and clean down, spitting out the toothpaste in your mouth and wiping away the excess around your lips.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just thinking.” you mumble, washing off your toothbrush.
“What were you thinking about?” he murmurs, resting his chin on you, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it looked serious.”
“I...I don’t take good care of myself. I never have. But lately I’ve been trying and I didn’t even know it. I used to barely have the energy to brush my teeth once and now I’m doing it twice a day, every day, and sometimes I even floss and I didn’t even know I was doing it? It used to be so hard before, but now it’s like second nature.”
Trey laughs softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
“That’s a good thing, honey. That’s very good.” he says, and his voice is gravelly with sleep and it makes your heart flutter because he’s proud, he’s proud of you for doing something you should have been doing anyway because he knows it's hard for you and—
“It’s gross. I’m gross.” you huff, gripping the toothbrush tighter, “Don’t you ever get tired of it? Taking care of me? I know I’m hard to work with and it must be even more work for you.”
“Honey, look at me.” Trey demands softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him in the mirror, “You are not gross. You’ve made a lot of progress and you’re taking such good care of yourself. You’ve told me before how hard it is and I’ve seen it firsthand. I do it because I love you. You’ve never forced me to be here.”
Fuck. Your eyes are starting to burn and there’s a lump in your throat and you have to force yourself to look away from those warm eyes or else you’ll burst into tears right here. Trey understands, and he makes no move to get your attention again. He allows you to collect yourself, doesn’t comment on your soft sniffles, and keeps holding you.
“It’s because of you.” you whisper, furiously wiping your eyes, “I’m only doing these things because of you. You—”
“Now, don’t say that. If you didn’t even realize you were doing it, how could it have been because of me?” he asks, holding you impossibly closer, “Trust me, love. I’m happy to have helped you along, but you can’t credit me for your hard work. And even if you don't feel like it, someday you’ll do these things for yourself, I know it.”
Your eyes are glassy as he turns your tired body around, and you offer no resistance when you’re pulled into his chest. Slowly, you lift your arms, and your hands cling to the material of his pajama shirt as you softly cry into him.
“It’ll be okay, love. I’m so proud of you.” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, “I’m so, so proud.”
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lowkeychenle · 10 months
Text
Sunshine [ZCL] (M)
Description: You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it.
Genre: Smut (established relationship AU) and fluff <3
Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (Don't Do This LOL), morning sex <3, soft and sweet Chenle because i said so, pulling out, yada yada yada (literally all of my fics are unedited, this is a judgment free zone okay)
Word Count: 1,224
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (can we talk about this gif???????? my brain cannot compute how gorgeous this man is send help immediately)
Juliet's Masterlist
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Not waking up next to Chenle is something you’ve grown accustomed to. He’s a busy man, after all, with days full of schedules and fans that would probably rip your face off if they knew you existed.
But on some rare occasions, you got to sleep with your limbs tangled with his. It’s your favorite thing—opening your eyes to see him sleeping soundly. You’d run your fingers through his hair, trace over the fullness of his lips.
Everything about him is so beautiful, you wish you could stop time and live in those moments forever.
The sun peeks through your curtains, the rays warming your skin. Usually, you’re awake first, but today, Chenle gently traces up and down your spine through the T-shirt of his you’re wearing. You shuffle closer to him, burying your head into his chest as he hums.
“Morning, pretty girl.” He kisses your forehead.
A lot of times, Chenle isn’t necessarily the gushiest person. He doesn’t always enjoy being attached at the hip, and his love language is the two of you making fun of each other. It’s perfect. You love it, but nothing compares to times like this, where he’s soft.
You throw your arm over him, pulling his body closer to yours. Heat pours from him, but you don’t mind one bit.
His hand moves up to cradle your head. “I dreamed about you.”
“Yeah?” Your voice is muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “How so?”
“It went a little something like this.” He reaches down and grasps a handful of your ass, kneading it gently. “You had a little less on.”
You let out a tiny sigh, one that has him pushing his hips forward until you feel him rock hard against your lower stomach. Gasping, you move closer to him. He grips your thigh instead, lifting your leg onto his waist. His nails drag teasingly against your skin, making goosebumps form on your skin.
“If I touched you, would you be wet right now?” he murmurs, leaning over to press his full lips to your neck.
When you don’t answer, his touch edges around your thigh, closer and closer to your core. As much as you’re embarrassed to admit it, the slightest touch from Chenle has you soaked.
He nips the base of your throat. “You can be shy today, baby. I’ll let it go since you’re tired. Do you want me to touch you?”
“Please,” you whisper, hiking your leg up higher on him.
He finds the wet spot on your panties. Your breath hitches when he finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. You grind down, clenching your fingers around his shirt.
“You’re so perfect,” he says, his slow, steady pace making you see stars even from the simplest touch.
“More.” Your eyes squeeze shut.
“Anything for you.” He slides your underwear to the side, one finger slowly sinking inside you.
You crave kissing him, but with your head buried in his chest, you’re too engulfed in his ministrations between your legs to think of anything else. With your brain still foggy, the pleasure of him thrusting his hand has you near delirious.
He presses a kiss to the top of your head, rolling his hips so you feel him again. You shift your leg to get him to pull out of you and try to tug him on top of you. He chuckles softly, shaking his head.
“We both get to be lazy today,” he mutters, hoisting you back up to his waist by your knee. “You sure you’re ready for me?”
You nod. Reaching down, you pull him out of his underwear, and when you wrap your hand around him, he lets out a tiny groan. He grabs your arm and pushes it away, lining himself up with your entrance.
It takes a moment of shifting, but before you know it, he’s sliding inside. You gasp, arching your back to get closer to him even though you’re already pressed together. He pauses, taking in the feeling as he drags his hand beneath your shirt, touching the expanse of your skin.
He stretches you so nicely, you could sit just like this all day and not have a single complaint. It’s hard for you to move in this position, but the slightest shift from you has Chenle’s breath stuttering.
He holds you tightly, setting a gentle pace as his fingers run through your hair. You moan quietly, listening to his off breathing and a couple little whines he can’t keep back. Burying your head in his neck, you lick along the expanse of it, nibbling against his pulse. His hum rumbles in his throat.
When you reach his earlobe and take it between your teeth, his hips jerk. You whimper into his ear, grasping onto him to keep yourself grounded. He holds back his sounds, lips pressed together as he picks up his pace. You cling onto him and your eyes roll back, overwhelming pleasure from the way his cock slides against your walls making spots appear in your vision.
Before you know it, he flips you so you’re flat on your back, keeping himself up on one of his elbows while he reaches between the two of you. He pulls out to rip your panties off, the fabric soaked and clinging to your skin desperately. When he pushes back inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, head falling onto the pillow. This position makes it easier for you to roll up toward him while he thrusts. He bites down on your shoulder, fingers finding your clit with ease. Your body shudders as the knot forms in your stomach.
“Need you to cum,” he groans, kissing the bite mark he left in your skin. “Please.”
One last circle on your sensitive bud has you shattering around him, the knot unraveling at near supersonic speeds. You barely register what he’s doing when he frantically moves your legs away from him. He pushes the T-shirt up past your breasts, cum already spurting from his cock as he pulls out and finishes on your stomach. His chest heaves as he stares at you, covered in spurts of white.
“One of these days, I’m not gonna make it on time.” He pats his cheeks.
You lie there, absolutely breathless, the sticky liquid threatening to spill over your side. He catches it on the tip of his finger, smirking as he lifts it to your mouth. You take it easily, swirling your tongue in the process.
“Want me to clean you up or do you wanna come shower?” he asks you, readjusting his underwear as he slides off the bed.
You don’t really want to move, but being skin-to-skin with him sounds amazing right now. “Both.”
“Greedy.” He chuckles, his grin wide enough to split his face in two. “But anything for you, my love.”
As he goes to grab a towel, you admire him. The soft side of Chenle isn’t what you usually see, but when it comes out, he’s insatiable. He has to give you every ounce of love he has.
He cleans you off before helping you stand and leading you to the bathroom. You spend the rest of the morning there, up until the hot water runs out, loving him while he tells you all the sweet things he usually holds back.
301 notes · View notes
viennacherries · 1 month
Text
WIP Tag Game
omg this is so exciting i've never been tagged in one of these before!! thank you @darkurgetrash for the tag i love u <3
gonna tag a couple of the besties: @cakeboxie @drizztdohurtin @underdark-dreams and all of my other moots who do writing <3 or if you don't write show us your art wips!!!
~~~
It's not like you didn't already know this, but it's becoming increasingly apparent that Rolan is not a patient person.
You'd managed to find a spot with a rock outcropping that made a good enough shelter. The problem is, for both of you to fit under it, it's a little cramped. But you didn't want either of you sat out in the open where anything could spot you, so you'd reluctantly backed up to the wall and against Rolan's side.
It's a bit maddening, being this close to him. His scent fills your nostrils (he smells like weave and something musky, like sandalwood), which is incredibly distracting, and up close you notice he's covered in freckles. They cover his cheeks and forehead and climb their way up to his ears. He's also taken his hair down, which is frankly rather rude of him. It looks soft.
What's ruder is the fact that he literally cannot sit still. His legs bounce where they're stretched out in front of him, and every few minutes he adjusts his posture with a loud groan.
When his leg starts bouncing again for the umpteenth time, your hand shoots out and grabs his knee on its own accord to hold it down. He jumps at the contact and whips his head towards you, and the look of alarm he's wearing would be funny if he wasn't driving you insane.
"Rolan. If you don't stop fidgeting I'll stop you myself."
He frowns. "I can't help it."
You arch an eyebrow, "right, so you want me to hold you down for the rest of the evening? Because I will."
His face flushes and he shakes his head no, so you withdraw your hand. You feel his body relax next to you.
"You may as well try and get some sleep. I can keep watch and wake you up when it's safe to move."
He clears his throat, "that won't be necessary. I'm fine."
You scoff. He's definitely not fine, he's been wiggling around since you both sat down. You tell him as such and the blush rises back to his cheeks.
"I'm not- That's not why I'm-" He sighs "I'm fine."
"Ah, yes. People who are fine usually writhe around like worms."
He scowls at you, but doesn't say anything. At that moment you feel a shiver rip through you. His face softens with concern.
"Are you okay?"
You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself, "I'm fine."
He pulls a face at you. "Ah, yes. People who are fine usually shake like leaves."
Okay, in fairness, you walked right into that one.
"I'm okay, honestly. I'm just a bit cold."
You hadn't really thought about it when you left the inn, hopped up on adrenaline, but now you're sat here you've begun to realise you're not dressed for the chill. You're wearing a pair of light trousers and an old sweater with holes in the sleeves; the clothes you sleep in. It was fine when you were racing around looking for Rolan and fighting shadow creatures, but now that you're sat still with your back up against rock the cold is seeping into your body.
Rolan looks you up and down a few times, then makes a noise of frustration. "Gods, I'm sorry. I should've thought to- I haven't got enough magic left to cast anything to keep you warm."
"It's fine, I'll manage. Besides, you're like a furnace."
It's true, you can feel the warmth from his body where his arm is pressed up against yours. You've trying not to think about it, but it's getting harder to focus on anything else.
There's a moment of silence, and a look of hesitation in Rolan's eye, before he lifts the arm that's against you and instead wraps it around your shoulder. You flinch.
"What are you doing?"
He's blushed again. "Well. We- tieflings, that is- we naturally run hotter. And I got you into this predicament, so the least I can do is stop you from catching pneumonia."
You try desperately to think of an argument that stops him pulling you closer, but you come up empty. You're cold and he's warm, and he smells nice and his hair looks soft, and you are a weak, weak woman.
When you don't say anything else, he tentatively stretches his arm back around your shoulder, and places his hand there awkwardly. You pull a face at him.
"That can't be comfortable, your wrist is at an angle."
He shrugs, which makes you sigh. You grab his hand where it rests on your shoulder blade and manoeuvre yourself so that you're resting your head against his chest. You wrap his arm around you and push yourself against him. He freezes.
There's a long moment where you wonder if you've overstepped a boundary, but then he's sinking himself down against the rock so you can better lean on his chest, and pulling you tight against the side of his body. There's a moment of hesitation before you feel him rest his chin on the top of your head.
His scent and warmth wraps around you and you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek. His chin on the top of your head is a comforting weight, and being surrounded by him like this feels... intimate. You like it.
"I'm sorry, Tav."
You frown, but don't move. "For what?"
He swallows heavily. "I really was unfair to you. It's not your fault Cal and Lia were taken. You're the only reason any of us made it this far in the first place. I lashed out and it wasn't fair."
You give a small shrug, as much as you can without shaking his arms from around you. There's a moment, and then he's moving anyway, turning to face you and holding both of your shoulders.
"Tav, I mean it. It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry."
His eyes are piercing and you struggle to look away despite how intense his gaze is. "You were right. I'm not a leader. I just wanted to do what felt right, but I've put people in danger in the process."
He shakes his head, "I wasn't right. The best leaders are the ones who didn't choose it. They're the people everyone follows because they believe in them." One of his hands comes down and grasps yours, and you feel your breath hitch. "People believe in you, Tav. I... I believe in you."
You don't know how to reply to that, so you don't. Another shiver rips its way through your body, and Rolan wraps both of his arms around you and brings your head back to his chest.
"For warmth, of course." He says it softly.
You nod. "Of course." Your voice comes out quiet and breathless, and you feel Rolan shudder minutely.
A voice in the back of your head tells you that you're walking a fragile line, that you're slowly inching your way over it. That once you cross it there's no going back. The warmth of his embrace must be clouding your judgement, though, because you find you don't care.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
Note
…most of my rants are about being these characters being playful and teasing with the reader but that won’t stop me from giving you one more. I’m touch starved!! This is all I crave!! Throw me onto a bed (or anywhere soft) and start a fight and I’m all yours!!
and I KNOW I SAID I HAD MORE SUNA (and I do, I most definitely do) BUT HERE’S SOME SAMU BC HE’S SO ABSJWJDKVJ AND I ADORE HOW YOU WRITE HIM (as I do with all the characters you write ofc, but since I feel like I’ve been neglecting him lately, I’m giving him some extra love tonight)
So anyway Osamu is tired and getting comfy in bed BUT you’re full of energy and talking to him about everything under the sun. It’s very clear you won’t be sleeping anytime soon and he wants a full 8 hours so he’s just like “oh, you’re not tired, huh? Let me tire you out then baby” and he fucking piCKS YOU UP AND you’re laughing and squirming in his arms in protest but he needs you to be t i r e d so he keeps it up and starts a war with pillows and tickles and he’s more awake now and fully enjoying it. And by the end, you’re so tired out that you just fall asleep on his chest. I love him. I want him to pick me up. I want to play fight with him. I want his arms around me. I’m not light but I just know he’d be able to lift me. …yes this WAS fueled by me not being tired but needing to sleep what about it?
I LITERALLY WANT TO RUIN HIS DAYS AND SLEEP SCHEDULE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH-
Also who do you think he is, he could toss you like a sac of potatoes boy is bUILT-
Like listen. He gets it. He doesn’t force you to get up with him every morning to help set up the restaurant, he wants you to sleep in and relax, but some days his body just needs to knock out early and sleep.
And usually, of course, it’s the days your body decides to kick it up a notch and stay up far later than him.
He’s left you in the living room with a sweet kiss on your head, telling you that he hopes you’ll come to bed soon, assures you that tomorrow he’ll be able to watch tv with you, tries to cover all the bases so you can let him fall asleep with peace and love.
Very clearly, however, you’re not going to go down with peace and love.
Because every minute and half, you’re back in the room. Be it to show him a tiktok, or talk about a recipe you think he should try, or a picture of Atsumu’s dog and how bad you want one, you’re. There.
“‘Samu, did you know that 40% of your dna is also shared in a banana-“
“Baby, I love you so much,” he says, voice raspy from being dragged out of sleep once again. “If you come in here one more time to talk to me, I’m going to make you regret it.”
You become silent, and his heart sinks at the idea he hurt your feelings with his words. He sits back up to see you, fiddling with your fingers in the doorway.
“Sorry,” you say softly.
He quickly shakes his head, “no, no baby, it’s okay, I didn’t-“
“Didn’t know grandpa needed his sleep so bad.”
Suddenly, his brows shoot up. You grin around a cheeky tongue bite, and he licks his upper lip at your defiance.
“I cannot stand you,” he snarls, immediately popping onto his feet and dashing towards you in a mad sprint, adrenaline pumping as you scream and dash away.
And listen, he’s a big man, but he’s got plenty of speed under his belt and you barely have time to scramble down the hall before he’s got you in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder. You’re kicking and laughing and doing everything you can to break free, but he’s not budging. Not even a little. Usually when osamu wants to play fight, he gives you a little bit of wiggle room as a false sense of freedom, but today, he’s serious, and it makes you giggle and scream in anticipation.
When he finally does release you, it’s with a rough toss on the bed, watching with a sick smirk as you scramble to make some distance, as if the mattress will protect you.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He scoffs, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back down the bed, your eyes widening because he’s never done that before, and apparently, you love it.
“I-I’ll leave you alone!” You reason, but he had no interest in your bargaining. Instead, he takes his pillow and swats it everywhere he can against you, against your legs and extended arms, being careful of your face but not exactly avoiding it.
You try to grab the pillow from his hands, and just to briefly disorient you, he holds the pillow over your face. By the time you throw the fluffed pillow off of you, he’s kneeling between your legs, “I know what will tire you out.”
You shove his broad shoulders as he smooths his hands over your kicking legs, pinning you to the bed with his body before tickling you with everything he can muster. You shriek so loud it hurts his own head, but skittering fingers only draw more cackles out of you, and he’s not feeling merciless.
“I hate you!” You lie between your cackles “I hate you! S-so mean! Stop iiitttt!”
“I’m not in the mood for that crap,” he snarls playfully; his tickling fingers slow only slightly so he can lean down, whispering in your ear- which also has you a giggling and whining from the feeling. “I want you to break.”
You try to tickle him back, which does, briefly, have him stopping to defend himself, but it doesn’t last long before he gathers your hands in his and pins them above your head to the mattress. The action makes your eyes widen in anticipation, a flash of panic being drowned out by a glimmer of eagerness.
“Are you done being an asshole?” He grits between his teeth. Your legs wrapping around his body to keep him close tell him everything he needs to know, but you do whine softly at the idea of him attacking you in such a position.
“Don’t tickle me,” you pant. “I’ll behave.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffs, his hand making a move to make you jump, and he watches in satisfaction as you giggle nervously. “You eat this shit up and you know it.”
Despite this, he does release you and kisses the last of your laughter from your lips, and the whole scene seems to make you into a pile of mush; your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him flush to you, mewling softly at the affections and feeling so close.
“God, I adore you,” he mumbles, smiling as you bury your face in his neck. You nod against his skin, and he chuckles at your sudden complacence. “You finally ready for bed?”
“Yes,” you sigh sleepily. “But I left the tv on. Gotta go turn it off.”
“I’ll take care of the tv,” he promises, kissing your temple, “get under the covers. Can’t risk you getting all energized again.” You snort before he gets up to turn off the tv in the living room, folding the blanket and putting your phone on the charger, grabbing you a glass of water before heading back to bed, where you’re curled up under his side of the bed, nuzzling into his pillow.
He chuckles, “seriously?”
“It’s warm,” you murmur. He lifts up your body to slide under you, letting you curl on his chest before switching off his lamp to finally, finally go to sleep.
“Osamu?”
“….”
“….osa-“
“What.”
“I love you.”
He sighs and buries his nose in the crown of your head, “I love you too.
“Please, for the love of fuck, go the fuck to sleep.”
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sylverstorms · 1 year
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Daniela x Maiden ---- Hunted Ch.8 (NSFW)
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7
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They say if you can master yourself, you can master everything. 
You have years of hunting and self-taught combat to aid you in that department. Sharp senses, rapid reactions, great hand-eye coordination to work alongside your sturdy body. All of these traits have preserved your wellbeing on multiple occasions and are undeniably your greatest strengths. 
So it is ironic that, in a mere moment, they can also become your greatest weakness. 
One minute you are lounging in your bed, reading an old Romanian folklore book that piqued your interest from the main library. You are absorbed in the light stories and drawings there, of wish-granting fairies and trees with wills of their own, so much that your eyes begin to droop. 
And then a strong gust of wind comes from outside. Whatever miniscule gap exists in the locking mechanism of your window allows the air to move the flimsy curtain covering it ever-so-slightly. At the same time, the very corner of your eye registers movement. A shadow; a bat, a monster, a trick of the light –it doesn’t matter. 
It sets you off like a fire alarm. 
Suddenly, you are leaping high into the air, eyes wide, frantic, you are bursting out of your room and you cannot breathe. That’s all it takes. Literally all it takes for you to fall apart; one stray little stimulus caught by your hunter senses and misinterpreted by your mind.
You’d smack straight into the opposite side of the corridor, if it wasn’t for the warm body you crash into, instead. The person unfortunate enough to be tackled into the wall manages to conceal the collision with a soft grunt. Their knees do not hit the ground when yours do. You’d apologize, if only you could find your voice. If your brain wasn’t closing in on you with thoughts of impending doom. If the roof wasn’t coming down to crush you– 
“Hey, hey. Seren, take it easy.” A familiar, smoky voice calls your name. Firm digits press at your shoulder. 
That… breaks you out of your panic mode a little. At least your body stops shaking. Surely, it’s a start. You suck deep breaths into your lungs, until you can finally look up to confirm who it is. Fine dark hair. Hazel eyes. Attractive jawline. Alexia crouches beside you so you don’t have to crane your neck up to meet her gaze. 
“Are you alright? What happened?” she asks and her calmness is infectious. 
“I–I almost fell asleep and then… I thought something outside my window moved.” God, you hate how breathless you sound. “I fucking –lost it.” 
She doesn’t say anything at first, merely lets you count inhales and exhales while her eyes scan your room. “Can’t be a Samce; they don’t normally fly this low or approach the warmer parts of the castle.” she muses, more to herself than you. “Probably just a bat.”
You nod when your heartbeat stops pounding raw pain across your chest. “Yeah. This a thing that… happens.” Not often, but it does. Not that you could ever get used to this kind of impact.
��Sorry to hear that.” Alexia's lips press together. You take her offered hand to stand on your feet again. “Do you want to join me for a while?” 
“Ah… wouldn’t want to keep you up.” you hesitate. 
“Don’t worry about that. I think I’ll wait for Cassandra to return from her hunt, anyway.” she shrugs. 
The two of you take slow, unhurried steps towards the human staff’s common room. You make sure to keep your voices down, not to disturb any of the other women sleeping as you pass by the locked doors of their chambers. Nobody wants to deal with complaining and death-glares come morning. 
At your destination, Alexia pours you both some whiskey, hands you your glass and takes a seat beside you on the couch. Unlike most people, she doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with smalltalk. You appreciate the time she gives you to completely cool down. 
“It’s not like you, to freak out like that.” comes the comment, eventually. 
“It is, though.” It's a bitter reply, complete by taking a healthy gulp of alcohol that leaves a much-needed burn down your throat. “I’m not fearless like you.”
“I’m… what, now?” A thin eyebrow raises. “I think you’ve got the wrong person there.”
“No.” You shake your head. “The other maids talk of what you did. You were the first ever to escape. As well as the spark that improved living conditions here for the staff.” What guts that takes is beyond your comprehension. 
“I improved living conditions for myself.” Alexia corrects. “Rhiannon advocated for the rest, not me. I’m not that selfless or that good.” So she says, but you are inclined to disagree. 
“Well, anyway. You’re dating Cassandra.” There. Point made. If that doesn’t scream ‘fearless’, nothing does.  
The edge of Alexia’s mouth quirks up. “Not for lack of fear.” 
That answer, you were not expecting. It makes you shift your body towards her, the question evident in your expression. “...Really?”
“Of course. Do you know how long it took for my blood not to turn to ice, at that feral look she got in her eyes when hungry?” You never could have imagined she felt the same as you. Cassandra and she always look so comfortable together. “Before I ever spoke to her, she was the Dimitrescu I feared the most.”
“And how did you overcome that?” you animatedly ask. 
“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” The words come out perfectly even. “Once I realized that, I could set it aside more and more. At first, it was for benefit. Then, it was for love. Until it disappeared entirely.” 
Well, that is… enlightening. 
“Everyone has phobias and traumas, Seren, whether they are aware of them or not. Trust me, the Dimitrescus are no different than us in that regard.” Indeed, you’re starting to see that. “And maybe that’s the root of the problem. Healthy relationships are hard to build between wounded people.”
Wounded...
“Whatever is haunting you, you should talk about it. In time.” And with that, she finishes her drink. “Rhiannon is best suited to these kinds of things but… you also know where to find me.”
You smile. Raise your glass to that. 
The daughters return in the ungodly hours of the morning. You hear the exact moment the heavy gates groan open from the top of the staircase, the hushed giggles that follow. Three dark, buzzing blurs make a beeline for the lit fireplace, where their figures solidify. 
Cassandra is the first to push back her hood, head turning towards her girlfriend in the same swift motion. The dim firelight brings out the inhuman gold in her eyes that much more, gleaming like a cat’s. Rich blood coats the lower half of her lips and neck, glistens like a morbid jewel on her too-pale skin. Her smile is that of a wolf’s. 
Your blood pressure rises from it, but Alexia regards her coolly, almost fondly. She’s prepared for the predator flashing in front of her face, as opposed to you, pushing backwards in pure, unrestrained reflex. But the wolf seems more and more domesticated the longer she stays there, locked in a staring competition with a human. 
What surprises you is the fact she’s not looking down on a lesser, weaker species than herself. She sees her equal. 
“Don’t you dare–” Alexia begins, but Cassandra has already pressed a bloody glove to her chin and made a point of dragging it down her neck. 
“Now you need a bath, too.” A wink. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t come right off. I’ll just have to lick hard–”
“Too much information.” Bela knocks her shoulder into her sister’s on her way up the final step in a way that's no accident. 
The low, answering growl would send most people running for the hills. Instead, the blonde ignores it, brings her hand up in a bored little wave as she passes you by. And then… the third shadow joins you, the smears on her lower face as red as her hair.  
“Hey. I thought you’d be sleeping at this hour.” Daniela says, the quiet softness of her voice dizzyingly out of place against her bloodied image. “Miss me that much?” Subtly heterochrome eyes crinkle underneath her hood.
“Let’s go with that.” You reply. 
“Well, since you’re up…” she drags the word out. “Mind drawing me a bath?” Puppy eyes. You get puppy eyes from the baby wolf of the family. 
And of course… you’re not immune to them. 
Which is why, five minutes down the line, you find yourself standing in the bathroom connected to her bedchambers, pointedly staring at the door as Daniela undresses –surely, she could do it faster?– and slips into the water behind you. You keep your mind on the decor, your back to her despite how it unnerves you, until the water has drained twice and she assures you you can look. 
Slowly, you peek with one eye over your shoulder. True to her word, the steaming bathtub is now filled with salts and bubbles, the metallic scent and hue of blood gone. Daniela is laying back amidst the foam like a princess waiting to be painted, long crimson hair sticking to the marble surface that is almost as pale as her skin. 
If you didn’t know what kind of monster she is, seeing her all relaxed here and looking up at you underneath those long lashes of hers, you’d think her a siren. Maybe she is one after all, because you approach, as if under a spell, the moment she motions you closer with a slight tilt of her chin. 
No wonder she smells so good, if this is what she bathes in every day. You wave the stray thought as soon as it forms in your head. You also make a point to keep your eyes above her collar.  
“I thought you don’t like having others around when you bathe.” you speak up, needing to steer your mind in a less intimate direction. This is the first thing you come up with, one of the first key pieces of information the older maids gave you about her. 
“Normally… no.” she admits as if also saying ‘you, I don’t mind’. “But then again I usually keep my head submerged.”
“Oh. I do that, too. The calming effect only works with cold water, though.” You’d know. You have sought out its icy embrace to numb your racing heart, your pain, your fears. Everything.
“Does it.” There’s doubt in her voice. A distant look in her eyes that makes her appear… older, for a moment. The kind that hints she’s tried this for the same reasons you have. Perhaps in a different life. 
You grimace. “The isolation part works, at least.” This is a road down loaded subjects you’re taking and it is too early –too draining– for that. You decide to steer your path in a lighter angle; “Anyway. Here I thought it was a modesty thing.” 
Daniela’s gaze shifts to yours, turning more mischievous by the millisecond and it feels oddly good that she’s back to being the little shit you know. “Modesty is not a thing~” She pushes herself forward as she says it, chest puffed out, bubbles pulled along rosy, pebbled nipples–
Until your hand shoots out and presses her back down by the shoulder. “I can see that, I believe you!” The water is scorching, but you don’t care. Your face burns more. 
Daniela giggles. 
You wait in her room while she dresses and dries her hair. Busy yourself by looking around, taking in details you missed the first time you were here. Like the blood-red rose preserved in crystalline resin she has at the corner of her desk, the scented candle on the opposite, an array of lipsticks and glosses and other girly things laid out before the vanity that bears her family crest. 
The click and soft hiss of the bathroom door make you pivot. It’s a good thing you did not take the rose into your hands to examine like you wanted, because you surely would have dropped it. 
When you brought her that black, folded nightgown, you never pictured it would hug her frame so sensually. Or that its design would purposely draw attention to her chest, or that she wouldn’t be bothered to tie it properly around her waist. 
The worst part is, none of it seems intentional, this time. Daniela is just lazily running a hand through her long hair, more focused on the pillows stacked at the head of her bed than you. She’s not even trying to be seductive and your stomach has been reduced to bits. 
Bad, bad, need to get out of here–
“Seren.” There goes your escape. “Come lay with me for a while?” Sitting up against the pillows with the covers at her middle, she pats the ample space next to her. “The bed is cold.” She’s not lying; her back is rigid, hands pressed to her biceps.
“You know, it’s really late and I do need to sleep…” you try.
“Kniiiiiight…” 
“Okay, okay, but only ten minutes!” As if the finger you hold up sets some kind of boundary in stone. 
Her bed didn’t seem so intimidatingly large last time. You pull back the covers on your corner as if they’ll bite you, then kick off your shoes and settle –with all the unbreathing fluidity of a log– half-reclining on your side, your temple resting against your fist. Daniela removes her two monster teddies from getting squished between you, sets them on her bedside table with a pat on each of their heads. 
And then… you feel her icy hands creep up your elbows. A slow sigh escapes her lips; her eyes flutter shut, head rolling closer to your shoulder.
You’re a heater for eight more minutes, that’s all you’re here for, you remind yourself over and over. But time begins to blur the closer she slides her body. Quarter… then half on top of you. 
It’s –almost– fine for as long as she’s cold. It keeps you on your toes, doesn’t allow you to sink into the royal comfort of her bed or into her. Yet… she doesn’t stay cold for long. 
Then her fingers roam up your deltoid, curl at your shoulder and her lips turn to find yours. Soft, too soft and plush, more parts lingering than kissing. Your mistake is getting greedy with what you’re given. 
You of all people know not to play with fire, but you do not stop your hand from caressing the bare skin of her stomach where her gown has pulled open. Not even when you feel the hitch in her breathing. Instead, you let your tongue take the invitation of her open mouth to tangle with hers. You miss the first alarm bell when she shifts her weight fully on the leg between hers, presses into you a bit harder, effectively pinning you down.
You don’t miss the second, when her mouth trails from the corner of yours to latch onto your pulse and too-sharp teeth graze your skin. Once. Only once. Once is enough to startle you out of your heady dream and into the danger of reality. You push at her, but she doesn’t register the force. 
“Daniela!” 
The sound of her name makes her snap back, lift herself off of you on her hands and knees. At least she does it immediately, which doesn’t necessarily set you at ease, but…
But you see how her chest is heaving and her arms are straining on either side of your head. She’s reigning her instincts back as promised, expression torn between guilty and painfully turned on. Scared that you’ll push her and run off. Scared you’ll be scared to come close again. 
And you should be. 
“I–I’m sorry.” she huffs. “I wasn’t going to bite. Just– a little mark?” she explains. “It’s the first time I feel so–” Whatever she was about to say, she doesn’t. Then she whispers, softly, “Please don’t leave me like this.”
The thing is... you don’t want to leave her like this, either.
Your own feelings shock you, yet you want to finish what you started, despite how the idea of that ‘little mark’ causes your chest to tighten. 
“Can you be good?” you whisper. 
Her eyes darken further in response. She nods. 
When you press at her shoulder and roll you both around, she puts up no resistance. And there is a startling appeal to be the one to pin her down like this, for her to allow it. To further reinforce your control, her hand carefully takes yours and guides it to her throat. 
She is being good. And she must be rewarded for it. Which is why your fingers slowly trail down her smooth skin, from her chest to her navel, then hooking into the waistband of her lacy underwear. It sticks so mesmerizingly to her legs as you slowly pull it down… 
A whimper escapes her lips the moment you touch her there. You swallow the next with your own when you press a bit further into velvet heat, establishing a rhythm between push, pull and the roll of your thumb. Daniela’s hands fly to the pillow beneath her head, gripping hard.
It’s less than two minutes later you feel how tense she is, her gasps and moans no longer muted. “Seren, Seren, I’m–”
You know she is. Her body breaks into a quaking shiver, her back arches and neck cranes. She’s beautiful and if all that is torn for you to witness this sight is a mere pillow, there won’t be enough reasons to stop you from seeking it out again in the future. 
You slowly guide her down her high, until the predatory golden glow in her eyes gives way to much gentler yellowish blue. She smiles like you’ve just discovered a new star and named it after her. Then she releases the death grip she has on whatever is left of her pillow and trails her hand down your middle. Asking for permission. For direction, too. 
After everything you’ve done, it takes only seconds for you to come apart on her fingers.
And then you get unbearably embarrassed, refusing to lift your head off her ruined pillow. She doesn’t seem bothered either way, sleepily playing with the spiky ends of your hair. Rolling, tugging. 
Way to turn a mess into an already bigger mess, you think. It’s kind of like your superpower, at this point. As if this whole situation –your whole situation– wasn’t bad enough before feelings made it to the mix. 
You are her first… and you’re about to become her first heartbreak.
Your mind begins to stress and race, until you hear her voice by your ear; “Oh, no. No, no.”
“Um…?” you lift your head cautiously. It will be easier if she regrets this. You brace yourself for it. Your heart. You can take pain and it is for the best, for everyone involved.
But Daniela is not looking at you. She’s looking at her stuffed monstrosities. 
“Babiesssss.” she tells them, then carefully slides a hand out of the covers to turn them around, so they’re facing the door. “I’m so sorry, I scarred you for life. Ugh, I’m terrible…”
You squint. Stare. 
“Seren.” She pats your nape. “You have to remind me to shield their eyes and ears next time.”
Wait.
Next time…?
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Keefe and Sophie sleeping in the same house (not the same room Idk how they got in the same house without Grady murdering them but whatevs) and Keefe wakes up from a nightmare bout Cassius
Keefe having a nightmare bout his dad/mom and Sophie comforting him
Grouping these two together because it's mostly the same thing! Hope y'all don't mind!
What doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar.
Keefe had read that somewhere. Probably in one of the many boring books on his shelves, one of the better ones that he'd read a few times over, but that couldn't satisfy him anymore.
And it was a very true statement.
Lots of things had tried to kill him.
And everything had left scars.
From literal, physical deformities, long lines dragged over his arms, burns that had peeled away skin, things that Elwin couldn't fix, to mental scars. Things he could never run from, never look away from, because they were in his mind. Stuck there, haunting him, living inside of him, growing stronger with every moment.
They were his scars, and it was only when he looked hard that he could see them.
Or, you know, when his mind was finally allowed to rest, and the haunted broken nature of his collapsing mental health finally had its chance to dig its fingernails into the skin of his forehead.
That worked too.
At any rate, tonight was the night of such suffering, and as he lay on the bed in the guest room of the Ruewen's house, monsters made a nest inside of him.
It had been a lovely evening, in all honesty. There was safety at Havenfield, a kind of safety Keefe always wished there was.
But even safety itself cannot flee from the mind of a broken weapon.
He felt it coming, like you can feel the beginnings of an earthquake. The birds are silent and the dogs stop barking. That's how he felt, as he crawled into bed.
And sure enough, he fell asleep.
And the world tore itself apart.
He was ten, again. Or maybe he was still eighteen. Somewhere in there.
But he was smaller than he was, or maybe his father was bigger. His eyes were cold, barely there, looking at him like he was tiny, insignificant, unimportant, worthless.
Words were ricocheting around in his head, or maybe they echoed through the air, things like worthless, useless, why do you even exist, you shouldn't have been born, your mother was right, we should have gotten rid of you when we had the chance, I bet banishment would have made you a little more tolerable, at least we wouldn't have had to put up with you.
Keefe couldn't think, could only feel words that felt like big, rough hands, that felt like words shaking around in his head, that felt like glass cups hurled at walls, the glass cracking too close to his head, the shards scraping at his skin and his fingers aching as he picked up every piece.
Why can't you leave me alone?! He screamed, I never asked to be your son!
But you are, hissed the voice, that sounded like his mother pretending to be his father, where she stood over him in a Neverseen cloak, a knife in her hands and her eyes on fire, You will never stop being my son.
Keefe felt panic building in his chest, and he turned and ran, over buildings and under trees, around forests and his pulse was thick and bloody in his chest, stinging and humming like the buzz of a bumblebee. I'd rather be dead than be your son!
That can be arranged, Legacy.
And from the sky, shadows leapt down, streaking through his body like he was made of sand, like he was faded and broken and missing and the shadows dragged their teeth through him, his entire body screaming with the memory of pain--
Or was it real pain?
Was now the only now there was?
Was death the only way out?
Was this his last moment?
If it was, shouldn't he fight?
Shouldn't he try to stay alive?
Wasn't there something in his worthless life worth living for?
There had to be.
So, he screamed, loud, and the pain increased, and he wanted to forget himself, lose himself in a muddle of forgotten moments, forget this feeling, forget this day, forget every moment and every near death and every death he had ever lived and he pulled at the chains but the chains didn't move and his mother hissed in his ear, so close he could feel her hot breath through the endless shadow, The washer will be here soon.
And he bolted up, still screaming, his breath rasping in his chest like he couldn't feel the air pressing in on all sides of him.
His scream died in his throat.
He sat there, for a long moment, and swallowed.
He was alive.
The thought was alien, if a little disappointing.
His hands would not stop shaking. Phantom pain curled around him, like a blanket of black ice, and he wished he wasn't sweating.
There was a knock on his bedroom door. His body tensed.
He stood, and quietly walked over to it, expecting some monster to stand behind it.
He tried to steady his breathing for a moment, focusing on the memory that this was Havenfield, and that he was at least slightly safer here.
He opened the bedroom door.
There stood Sophie.
She looked up at him, her eyes with dark circles under them, her face pale in the soft night lights in the patterns of real stars above the hallway.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He nodded, forcing a smile to his lips that he knew didn't reach his eyes.
"I heard you scream," she said, her voice gentle.
He swallowed, embarrassment clawing up his throat like bile. "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again."
Sophie's face went sad. "I don't care about that," she said, softly. "I care about you. I wasn't asleep anyway."
He sighed, heavily, and then shrugged. "You wanna come in?"
She shrugged back. "If you'd like."
He nodded, a little, and she smiled at him. She sat on his bed. He sat next to her.
The heavy silence crept around them. His skin prickled with pain, and he hissed, wanting to scratch it all off.
"What was your dream about?"
Keefe snorted. "What do you think?"
Sophie kept looking at him. "We've lived through so much shit that it could have been anything. What was it, this time?"
Keefe swallowed, heavily. "My parents," he said.
Without another word, Sophie wrapped her arm around him, despite how sweaty he knew he was, and leaned her head against his shoulder.
A soft sort of feeling rushed over him, empty of color but full of heat, gentle and present.
He exhaled, softly.
She stayed there, hugging him.
"I said I'd rather die than be her son," his voice got a little clogged. "I meant it."
Sophie said nothing, but held onto him a bit tighter.
"She told me that it could be arranged. In my dad's voice. But it was her. And my dad's voice was in there too. He's louder. He yells. My mom doesn't yell. Dad gets all pushy, too. Mom just gets..." His breathing shook and chipped and cracked, and it took him a second to finish, "painful."
Sophie leaned her lips against his shoulder, and pressed a kiss there. The feeling filled some deep part of him, feeling like love and respect all at once.
"I wish I could forget it," he said, finally. "I thought that, at the end, and..."
He trailed off into silence.
Sophie let the silence hum for a moment, before asking, "And?"
"She said, right in my ear, "The washer will be here soon," he hissed, wincing. "Hell, if that doesn't open a jar of badness."
"You have a lot of memories that go with that."
"Too many. I think it must have been the marker for her to have them erase stuff. Because it's got so much shit attached to it." He winced. "I ever tell you she used to inject me with things? All the time. I didn't remember it. Stumbled across that a few years ago."
Sophie shook her head, gently, and leaned against him, trying to hold him together.
"She had the only time my dad hit me hard enough to leave a bruise erased too. I didn't remember that until last month. She was covering his tracks."
Sophie winced.
Keefe nodded. "Violent people do violent things," he said, quietly. "I just wish I wasn't related to violent people."
"You're not a violent person, though," Sophie said, softly.
Keefe shrugged. "I've wanted to hit my dad back, just as hard as he hit me, for a whole month."
"I think that's warranted," she answered. "It was only one time, right?"
"As far as I can remember," he half-growled, "And we all know how much my brain is a slice of swiss cheese."
Sophie giggled, just a little, and something inside of Keefe relaxed.
"Are you gonna sleep anymore, tonight?" she asked.
"If I take some knock-out drugs, sure. Otherwise, snowball's chance in Fintan's living room."
Sophie looked at him, for a moment. "You should talk to Elwin about those drugs, Keefe. You never look alright when you wake up after taking them."
Keefe hummed, but stood. "Wanna go sit in the living room and drink coffee?"
"It's three in the morning," she answered.
"That wasn't a no."
She stood up, with him, and held out her arm. "You're absolutely right. It was a yes. Let's go."
And that's how they wound up drinking cups of coffee in the living room, on Edaline's overstuffed couch, while watching Ten Things I Hate About You on the contraband television on an even more contraband DVD, alive and awake, at three in the morning.
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stormz369 · 2 years
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If I Were Thin I Still Wouldn't Be Healthy
My dad is replacing my phone for me, which is very nice. But he's only doing it so I'll have one with enough memory for the Fitbit app, which my mom wants me to use. She wants me to use it because she's enjoying it, but she doesn't seem to take into account that my I have an incurable chronic condition that means that I cannot walk for more than a few minutes without intense pain, and that I wake up with pretty bad pain to start off. I've agreed to use it mostly to shut her up, but also a bit because I'm curious about the sleep data it apparently gives you.
The extra bands and charger arrived today, the Fitbit itself will arrive tomorrow supposedly. I haven't even got the phone yet, and won't until some time next week. I specifically asked my mom to hold off on getting the Fitbit until I had the phone and knew that it worked (cause we're getting it from a site that sells floor models and ones where the box was banged up), but fine. It's kind of her to get it for me, and it's kind of my dad to get me the phone. Can't complain.
She also sent me a scale. A smart scale, which you hook up to the Fitbit app and it tells you your BMI, body fat %, metabolic age, and a bunch of other stuff. BMI is a scientifically invalid way of gauging health which P.E. teachers liked to shout out in front of the whole class all throughout my elementary school years.
I was born 10 lb. and some number of ounces. I had no control over that. I've had a thyroid condition that makes it hard for me to lose weight and easy for me to put it on in the first place. I have no control over that either. People, usually doctors, have used my weight to shame me literally since the day I was born, and to shame my mom for the 6 months before that. Why did she think sending me a scale was a good idea? I've had a personal rule for myself since I was 10 years old that I would never own a scale, never use one outside of a doctor's office, so that my own home couldn't be a place where I would be made to feel ashamed for something that I have little control over.
I've worked so hard to love myself, to not feel like a bad person for having a popsicle, or a slice of cake for my birthday. It seems stupid for a scale to shake that, but it did. I've felt judged since this whole conversation started, but now ... Now I can't stop crying. I can't bring myself to tell my mom that I'll never use it, and there's no receipt, so I can't just slyly return it and use the money for something I might actually use.
Stupidly, what's most upsetting is that my mom said a while ago that she had some 'surprises' she was excited to send me. She has access to my various wishlists, so I thought maybe she had picked something from there, as a sort of 'good for you' for finally giving in on the Fitbit thing. I fantasied briefly that maybe she'd get me one of the big ticket items I've been wanting but could never afford myself. Even if she wanted to get me something healthy and not something fun, she could have gotten me a little bike pedal thing off my list (which is only a bit pricier than the scale she got me, I checked, and the scale was blessedly not very expensive), or some ankle and knee braces to make it easier for me to walk without my joints going all screwy. Instead she got me something that isn't on my list, that I don't want, and that is making my heart hurt.
I just want my parents to love me, to not be ashamed of my. But they just seem to care about my health, and the way they act about it makes it feel like they think it's my fault. The only encouragement I get from them is about my physical health, most of it coming at the expense of my mental health. My health continues to deteriorate, and I can't make it stop.
But I mustn't be ungrateful, because they're spending money to help me with my weight. My weight, which I was learning not to be ashamed of. Maybe they'll finally manage to shame me into being a shape they can be proud of, and I can stop feeling like this.
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doitytoity · 1 year
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4.1
I’m totally not having dreams about izier every night… APRIL FOOLS
What a piece of shit deal I got.
Last night was the worst. We kept finding ways for me to find him and sleep next to him. I kept trying to get him to be with me for good. To stop everything from before and just be happy with me. He always wavered. Sometimes providing false hope, sometimes giving reasons why not. It felt fulfilling to be close to him. It felt perfect. But just like in real life, I can’t prove how he felt. He always wanted me to come sleep but not to stay together. And it’s not like we were fucking, we were literally just sleeping. He’d give me ways to come find him so we could hold each other. Then I lost contact. I was communicating with him on this phone. Some little phone. Idk. But I lost the url for the website that we used to communicate (this has happened in many izier dreams). So here I go ripping things apart to try to find it or remember the website I used to talk to him. I’m crying—hysterical really—rooting thru everything in my garage trying to find god-knows-what that will remind me of this website.
Couldn’t find it. End of dream. It was a long dream. And of course all the good stuff lasted way longer than the lost means of communication freakout. So now it feels like I’m walking around with an insatiable need for izier to hold me on my shoulders. And for some reason it has to be him. I think of some blank anybody body and it of course is just not the same.
I think I’m trying to prove to myself that he felt something with me. Which in some ways may be true. But he would never express that because I am no longer available to speak to, much less that I have nothing for him. I can’t help him in any way.
I’d never ever be able to trust him. This morning after my dream I saw a tweet about “tone policing” and thank god I did because it was triggering enough to shake a few of those post dream pinings.
I really cannot stand dreams like that.
I need to get rid of his hair, his tassel, and that card. Shits fucking me up. I want to do a cord cutting but it’s a lot of hoopla when I live with my mother.
You know what I really wish though? And I wish I could manifest it with no side effects or hidden traps? I just wish he would realize what happened between us. Like really feel every depth. All the depths that I felt. All the love. All the self-sacrifice. All the patience.
But it’s better without. I’m free of all the negative. Which also means I’m free of any positive, but still. In comparison it’s not worth it.
Nothing will ever be able to take back everything he did to me. Nothing could make me forget.
Maybe I need to forgive. Ugh.
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preetkumars · 2 years
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the lyrical essay
 The Lyrical Essay
   I looked so forward to turning eighteen this year and for some reason I never really understood why. Ever since I was younger everyone would point to the level of maturity I had. People were always amazed at how young I was and how maturely I spoke and acted. But I never knew why I acted that way. It wasn’t just so I could receive validation from people to boost my ego ( I’m a Leo, but I don’t know much or care about astrology). But I feel like this was a sign from God himself preparing me to be the person I am today. 
   When I was fourteen, my life had done a complete 360 and although the series of events was traumatic, it opened my eyes in a way I never expected it to. On July 19th 2019, my father had an acute ischemic stroke. My father was a very strong man, both physically and mentally. Seeing him go from being so healthy to so sick in the span of one day broke me. I spent the next month, taking care of my parents' Indian clothing business, as well as taking care of my father. Memorizing the 11 mandatory medications he was on, to making sure his diet was clean and healthy, taking him to his bi-yearly neurologist appointments, taking him to doctors that at the time I never knew existed. I lived in constant fear that one day my father would die. Always made sure to hold his hand when walking, whether that was on a flat road or down the stairs, because if he fell, I knew he’d be paralyzed for the rest of his life. 
   Now today those fears that 14 year old me had, no longer remain. My father passed on July 24th 2022. For the past 2 months now, I’ve been in denial. I acknowledged that he’s gone, but for some reason I cannot believe it. I mean I literally remember pressing the button to cremate him, but I feel like I won’t accept it anytime soon. I don’t mean to turn this into a sob story, but my fathers death has revealed so much about me, that I never would’ve discovered on my own. I genuinely feel like I have developed into a new person because of him. I no longer fear life because, one day my body will be turned into ashes and just like that, there would be no traces of me. Now that doesn’t mean I won’t proceed with caution or won’t stress or fear, but I want to be able to live a meaningful life, doing things that I love. 
   That specifically, being a provider. I also talked passionately about being a doctor since I was younger. And although I won't be an MD (because I physically cannot stand doing a residency) at least I’ll be a DDS. I remember my dad telling me how he wanted to put DDS plates on my car and we’d joke about hiring him as my receptionist at my practice. Although he won’t ever be able to see me graduate and become one. I realized that I want to do this more than anything else. The way his face would light up when he’d see me. The way he’d smile from ear to ear. Even though the last 3 years were a blur for him, the one thing he’d always talk about to others with was how his daughter, was going to be a doctor. 
 I remember, how you’d honk outside waiting for me while I was still finishing up my breakfast
I remember, how you would turn around and smile at me while mom helped me into the car
I remember, you always asking me if I had my belt on
I remember, walking with mom to our store after school ended
I remember, running in and sitting on your lap
I remember, how you’d kiss my forehead, and ask me what I wanted to eat
And I’d say nothing
I remember, Sunday mornings, going to the gurdwara with you and doing seva
I remember, how’d you cook food for the homeless and give it out
I remember, how people stopped walking to shake your hand
I remember, how people addressed you as Kumar Sahb
I remember, when you’d cook Thai curry for us on your days off which I absolutely hated, but
grew to love
I remember how much you hated kidney beans
I remember how much you loved sweets
I remember, you coming into my room before I went to sleep and pressing my legs
I remember, vividly 3 years ago when you got sick,
I everyday remember, of how much pain you were in,
I remember you, telling everyone that I’d make a great doctor one day, because of the way I took care of you.
 I remember, the day before you left
I remember, how you sang your favorite song for the last time,
I remember the last thing you ate.
I remember the last words I said to you.
 I  will always remember how much you loved me.
Growing up, my father would take my mom, my brother and I to the Gurdwara every Sunday before he got sick. After moving to Long Island, there were many Gurdwaras by us that we’d visit often. When I was younger of course I couldn’t understand gurbani much, because it was a different language from punjabi, and was recited in gurmukhi. But now that I am older and more mature, I’ve found my relationship with god getting stronger, and that is through listening and understanding baani. Here are my favorite quotes that help me when I feel overwhelmed or stressed, or just feel lost. 
- -ਜੋ ਆਇਆ ਸੋ ਚਲਸੀ ਸਭੁ ਕੋਈ ਆਈ ਵਾਰੀਐ ॥(474-2)
jo aa-i-aa so chalsee sabh ko-ee aa-ee vaaree-ai.
Whoever has come, shall depart; all shall have their turn.
- ਮਰਣੁ ਲਿਖਾਇ ਮੰਡਲ ਮਹਿ ਆਏ ॥
Maran Likhaae Manddal Mehi Aaeae ||
With their death already ordained, mortals come into this world. 
ਮਾਰੂ ਸੋਲਹੇ (ਮਃ ੧) (੩) ੭:੧ – ਗੁਰੂ ਗ੍ਰੰਥ ਸਾਹਿਬ : ਅੰਗ ੧੦੨੨ ਪੰ. ੧੮
Raag Maaroo Guru Nanak Dev
- “Man breaks flowers with one hand and offers them with the other, but the flowers perfume both hands alike. The axe cuts the sandal tree, yet the sandal perfumes the axe.“ Guru Har Rai Ji
-“It is nearly impossible to be here now when you think there is somewhere else to be.” Guru Gobind Singh Ji
-“Dwell in peace in the home of your own being, and the Messenger of Death will not be able to touch you.” Guru Gobind Singh Ji
52 HUKAMS 
- # 1 Dharam dee kirat karnee – Make an honest living.
-#21: “Kisae dee ninda, chugalee, atae eirkhaa nahee karnee”. “Do not gossip, nor slander, or be spiteful to anyone.”
#40 “Chugalee kar kisae da kam nahee vigaarnaa”: “Do not ruin anyone’s work by gossiping.”
-#44 “Pardaesee, lorvaan, dukhee, apung manukh dee yataahshkat seva karnee”: “Do as much possible to serve and aid foreigners, those in need, or in trouble.”
-52. Langar Parshaad ik ras vartaaunaa – Serve langar [free community kitchen of a gurdwara] and prashad with impartiality.
 -Maan neeva Maat uchi (ਮੱਨ ਨੀਵਾਂ ਮੱਤ ਉੱਚੀ) this translates to mind low, morality high
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