#im just Tired and idk how to replace it

[rocicrew]

so um, my keyboard is fried except the q which is pressed constantly just a week and a half before uni starts and as a graphics major i am Fucked

[mitchmotch]

my friend @revalito and i made an anastasia inspired au =]!

[llitchilitchi]

I get hating certain political systems and trying to abolish totalitarian regimes but at the same time many of them are so interwoven with our history and society they have become tropes and when I consume media with a setting where the monarchy is absolute and revered then I am playing my part and sucking that princeling off

[g8d]

tfw everyone in the system has like vaaastly different ideas about what reality fundamentally is and what it means to be

[heartyearning]

for some reason you have to be 23 to get a tooth implant so i NEEEEEEEEDDDD this one tooth to hold out for a year and a month. but on the other hand i kinda want it out of my mouth. but am i brave enough (hashtag girl) to live with a very visibly missing tooth. is the question.

[oh-katsuki]

i hate having to go get my car fixed in other cities / towns. i have a service advisor guy (his name is carlos) in my home town whom i trust with my life and i usually go to get my car serviced and stuff with him whenever im there. he doesn’t overcharge and answers all my questions and is SO patient w me. he’s the coolest guy ever, always finds the best deals for me and explains exactly what he’s gonna do and the exact charges in detail. i literally trust him w my life i’ve never once had an issue with him since i started going to him. 

but i blew a tire on the highway and had to have my car towed to the dealership closest to me (bc obvi im not in my hometown) and it took me TWO DAYS to get in contact with them. took them four hours to call me back. and they just tried to invoice / charge me FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS to get a single tire replaced (my car is also under warranty so everything besides the tire should be covered).

right after calling me, i asked abt the price and said i’d call him back in 5 minutes (after i request advice from my parentals) and the service advisor guy was like “ill be gone for the next hour. if you decide to sign just accept. if not you can come pick up your car.” like i had just ruined his entire year. bro i am so sorry for asking for more clarification on a 500 dollar charge for a tire replacement when the actual invoice only adds up to a literal 75 dollars. the phone call was literally five minutes bc he kept trying to get off the phone with me which felt so frustrating bc i couldn’t even ask what it was they were planning to do with the car. like maybe it’s abt to be his lunch break but at that point just take ur break, enjoy ur meal, and call me back after 😭😭😭

im sorry. i am so frustrated. i just miss carlos fr :( carlos has never done anything wrong in his entire life. 

[vanillabat99]

It's 6:30AM and I just changed my bedsheets. I figured I should be nice to myself before calling the day done. Hopefully I sleep okay, but honestly I'm expecting nightmares.

[beachbabey]

[antisocial-cvnt]

so it turns out.... I accidentally threw my wallet in the trash on trash day 😀😀😀😀

[nishibai]

am i allowed to vent On line

[learn-and-accept]

.

[starringthesturniolos]

The triplets are on stream and y/n is just laying on Matt’s bed (probably reading idk idk) and the whole chat explodes and begs for Matt to bring her to the stream.

He pulls her into his lap, wrapping his arm around her stomach and they’re being all cute for the rest of stream. That is until what happens after….

“come on y/n, we have to give the people what they want” he smirks but you just curl further into his comforter. your not one of those people that like being on camera and never have been. you’d kinda been in a mood the whole day anyway, and to your embarrassment, it was because you are so incredibly horny. matt has been so busy this week that you guys have almost had no time this week to do it. to make matters worse, today was supposed to be his free day, a day to spend just you and him, but him and his brothers insisted they do a suprise stream for the fans. so to say you could care less about what the fans want right now is an understatement.

“tell the fans i’m tired of their bullshit, matt.” you roll your eyes. “and im getting tired of yours too.” you roll over so your back is facing him and wrap his comforter over your head. he’s probably going to be a couple of hours, might as well take a nap.

you go to close your eyes when your phone pings with a notification from matt. you turn your neck to look at him, confused why he’s texting you when your in the room with him, but he’s just facing his pc. you turn back around and click on the message.

loose the attitude and behave.

then i might just give you what you want baby.

your thighs squeeze together at the thought of matt giving you exactly what you want. your practically drooling at the thought. when you go to respond to him, theres an image waiting for you already. its a picture of matts hard buldge encased in his sweatpants. his veiny hand rest right beside it and you want nothing more than to replace his hand with yours. all hatred for the stream aside, you practically skip to matt. he smirks and grabs your waist. he slides his chair out to give you room and you see his boner for the second time today. he gives you a knowing look and pulls you onto his lap right on top of it. with both your legs now straddling his hips, he thrust his hips up, and to the fans it probably look like he’s just trying to get comfortable, but you both knew it was just way to get you more worked up. at this point your so wet, it has to be leaving a stain on his pants, and he is loving every second.

“here she is.” he coos and the fans blow up the chat. you rest your head on his chest and prepare to relax because you know he’s still going to be a while. you sigh at the thought and he kisses your head in response. he mutes his mic for a second and he pulls his head down so his lips meet your ear. “being such a good girl, so patient for me. gonna take such good care of you.” you whine at his words and he grabs your hips to stop the onslaught of movement he knew you were about to make.

seeing how riled up you are makes him even more desperate to have you ride him into oblivion, so he relents. “hey guys, its been cool but i think i’m going to log off right now. see you guys next week, have fun with nick and chris” he says and immediately ends the stream. not even a second after he ends it, his mouth is on yours. the kiss is hot and passionate, matt bites your lips slightly and you allow him access into your mouth. you reach both hands up into his brown hair and tug slightly and he groans into your mouth. he pulls back and holds eye contact with you while moving your hips against him. the eye contact made everything more intimate and you loved it. with both of your mouths agape, he starts grinding you down on him harder and thrusting up slightly. your panties are ruined and you can hear the slooshing sound it makes against him. “are you ready for me baby? i can hear how wet you are” he whispers in the husky tone you loved so much. “yes, matt” you moan back in response. his pupils dialate and he picks you up and places you on the bed. he gently pulls your pants and panties down before rubbing your slit. you writhe against his hand and his breathing gets heavier watching your body move. “tell me how much you want it” matt mutters in a trance. “please matt, i want you inside me. i need you” you say batting your eyes at him the way you know drives him insane.

he groans and pulls his pants down, lining his huge dick to your opening. “who am i to say no to my baby?” he says as he slides into you. both of you let out a pornographic moan. he ruts into you at a fast pace, wasting no time and you can feel your cunt start to tighten around him. “jesus, keep squeezing me like that and im going to fucking lose it” he says breathlessly. he leans his head into the crook of your neck and inhales your perfume. he groans into your ear and you whine at the overwhelmingness of it all. his body on yours, his pretty blue eyes watching you, and his cock deep inside you. then all of sudden he pulls out of you. “matt- what?” you say tears starting to form in your eyes. you were in your submissive state and matt felt bad because he knew you needed him. so he wasted no time telling you what to do.

“don’t worry, im still going to take care of you sweetheart. just want you to ride me until your cumming and screaming my name.” he strokes yoir hair and places a light kiss on your cheek like he hadn’t just said the dirtiest thing he could think of. “that sound good to you?” he whispers with your faces inches apart. “yes, matt please” you say desperately as he lays down. he taps your thigh and you swing it over his hip. he helps guide you down on his dick and holds your hips there so he can get a hold of himself. once he lets go, you take that as a sign to move and you begin to bounce up and down on him. your tits bounce with you and your face gives off the pleasure your feeling as you bounce harder and faster. “so pretty, baby. i love seeing you like this” he groans and you sit all the way down on him. you start to whine on his dick and he whimpers which means he’s close. “cum with me, pretty” he grips your hips harder and moves you faster against him. with your clit rubbing against his stomach and his dick deep inside of you, its enough to push you over the edge. “matt- mm- fuck matt.” you moan louder than you have the whole night. “thats it baby. thats it” he coos as he fills you up and helps you ride out your orgasm.

after both of you wind down, you flop down next to him. he chuckles and pushes your hair out of your face. “what happened to you, kid. looks like you just got ran over” he jokes kissing you before grabbing a towel to clean you up with. he climbs back into bed with you, spooning you and placing soft kisses all over your neck. you look over and see his phone lighting up.

“nick’s calling” you say while giving him his phone. matt puts it on speaker and nick starts yelling immediately.

“YOU NASTY FUCKS, YOU DO REALIZE THE WALLS ARENT SOUNDPROOF, ME AND CHRIS COULD HEAR EVERYTHING. CHRIS LITERALLY LEFT BECAUSE OF IT, YOU GUYS SHOULD BE ASHAMED” he yells without pause

you and matt break out laughing and nick continues to yell at you guys for being nasty.

this is the good life

A/n- thank you for the request, loved it! if you want me to write something else im down, love yall

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@l34n

@sturnslimited

@chrissv4mp

[octoberautumnbox]

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 

They never meet. 

~~~

[luvrxbunny]

fame

pairing: ex-bf!Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: Eddie makes a grave mistake.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, insecurity, 'do i wanna know' (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 3.6k

a/n: a few things! Id suggest listening to the song before and/or after you read the fic! I wouldn’t suggest during because obviously it wont be on tempo. this can either be modern!Eddie or we can just pretend that “Do I Wanna Know” came out back in 1980. also idk anything abt instruments so shut up if i messed up anywhere— this is one of the worst ones ive written im sorry i just wanted to post

You and Eddie were happy. You guys got to see each other all the time since you became the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. The band supported you two going public endlessly due to the amazing on-stage chemistry you both brought to the shows. The more touchy, and lovey you guys were, the more people would come to the next show. But with this new, larger crowd came a new wave of women wanting to sleep with the hot lead guitarist, Eddie. 

You had no problem with it before. You know he wasn’t very popular in high school and it took you months to convince him that you honestly found him attractive, that you weren’t playing some practical joke, or just trying to bait him into embarrassing himself. So you were pretty happy to see all the attention he was getting, the attention he deserved. You could see his confidence rising, he would smile at the crowd more, play more impressive riffs and you’d get to watch his chest puff up in pride as the crowd uproars for him. 

But as he got more attention from the crowd, his attention was on you much less.

After shows, instead of hanging back with the rest of the band and relaxing backstage, he’d be out in front “entertaining the crowd” as he lovingly put it. It bothered you a bit because this is where you and Eddie got most of your quality time from but you would never take his little fanbase away from him so of course you never said anything. But there was this one week, gig after gig after gig. 

You got no love from Eddie on stage and assumed it was because he was too tired to put on such a show. He wasn't too tired for his guitar riffs, but you let it slide. It’s Eddie he’ll make it up to you backstage, or later than that if necessary. 

Then came time to head backstage, and Eddie didn't follow. You decided to let that slide too. He needs this interaction with his fans! He needs and craves that connection to people who are similar to him, maybe he’ll make some more friends around his age! You’d never want to do anything to stunt that. 

But three hours later, you Jeff, Gareth, and Doug aren’t in a forgiving mood anymore. You’d all joked about how once Eddie got a taste of fame he’d just leave you all behind but it’s starting to feel like less of a joke and more of a reality. 

You guys drink and complain, roll up, smoke, complain, and down a few more drinks before you all decide to take a stand. It’s a half-joke, that you’re all going to head out to the front and demand that Eddie come backstage to spend time with his band, with his girlfriend at least. The boys talk about inviting some girls backstage with them to make a party out of the whole ordeal but all those thoughts are gone and replaced with sober, solemn ones at the sight of what's happening at the front of the bar. 

Eddie’s sitting on a barstool, leaning back against the bar like he’s some god, he has his arms spread wide, resting on the bar and surrounded by women. Most of them are taking unpermitted selfies with him— not that he minds, but three women are draping themselves over him. One is at his side, sitting in a seat and resting her head on his bicep as she rambles to him and he’s listening.. intently. There’s another who’s on his other side, stroking and running her fingers through his hair, complimenting his curls, the ones you taught him to take care of. The third woman is standing between his spread legs, leaning over so that her cleavage is perfectly in his face under the guise of looking at and complimenting his necklaces. 

The smile on his face is one you’ve been missing, one you’ve been seeing less and less due to the stress of booking gigs but there it is… beaming for another girl.

Your heart stops when Eddie finally notices you guys standing on the other side of the room. You feel as though it’s about to jump out of your body and crash through the ground. Eddie pulls his arms in and pushes the girl between his legs away from him with a wide smile. “Oh. Hey, baby!” 

He’s getting up, explaining himself, and walking towards you all at once but you can’t even process what you’ve seen yet, let alone hear his bullshit explanation so you walk away. 

You turn and head backstage, already planning on packing your things and leaving. You’ll have to call an Uber because there is absolutely no way you’ll ride in the same van as him. You’re shoving your weed and rolling tray into your backpack when your head clears enough for you to listen to your surroundings again. 

You can hear Gareth and Doug scolding the girls, making them leave. You can also hear quick, sharp footsteps heading your way. Your breathing jumps and tears spring to your eyes, ones you quickly squeeze out and wipe away before Eddie comes through the door. 

You don’t look up at him, you just keep collecting your things and internally make a note to yourself not to leave your things scattered across an entire room. 

“Babe? Wait. Wait, wait you have to listen to me first.” You hold back a laugh and settle for a scoff at his statement. 

“I don't have to do anything, Ed.” His heart stops. You’ve only called him Ed once before; it was the biggest and only fight the two of you have ever had. His hands start trembling at their sides and his heart is beating roughly, rushing blood in his ears. He’s stunned to silence, watching you gather your things in a rush. 

You look around for your phone charger and spot it by the doorway, on a chair next to where Eddie is standing. He notices your gaze and quickly grabs the charger, holding it to his chest. “Listen.”

Your eyes slowly raise to meet his. He looks scared and desperate. You give him a chance. 

You put your bag down and lean against the back of the couch, staring at him and waiting for what you’re supposed to be listening to but he seems stumped. 

He didn’t have a plan or know what to say, he just needed you to stop. He tries to piece together a speech but his train of thought is disrupted by a disappointed sigh from you. “Look, Ed—”

He finally finds words. “Please don’t call me that.” His voice is strained, and you almost feel bad. 

“Why? It’s the title you deserve right now. You’re not my Eddie so I’m not going to address you like you are.” You start walking towards him, tears bubbling in your eyes despite the screaming in your head not to cry. 

“You sat there while those women laid themselves all over you, while the rest of your band, and your girlfriend sat backstage and waited for you. I’m your girlfriend. Do you realize how fucked up that is? You had me waiting and waiting for you, thinking you were just interacting with fans…” You think about how easily he fooled you. 

“I’m an idiot, huh?” You trail off, lost in your thoughts of despair. You’d always been so cautious of men, of giving your feelings, always keeping your guard up so you don’t get hurt, and the one time you decide to bring them down. 

“Okay! I’m fucked up for making you wait, I know that. I- I didn’t realize how long it’d been. I’ve been drinking a-and--” 

You cut him off. “Oh, you were drinking with them too! That’s great, Ed. Just the info I need.”

He sighs defeatedly. “I- It- But they don’t mean anything to me. They don’t! Why does it matter that I was drinking with them? It’s not like I was gonna do anything, baby. You know that.” He steps in your direction but you back away and wrap your arms around yourself. 

It breaks his fucking heart. 

“I don’t know that though, do I? Because never in a million years would I have ever thought that Eddie Munson, my boyfriend, would leave me waiting because he was entertaining other women. Do you understand? How- How nerve-wracking and shocking it was to see you out there like that?” 

You take another shaking breath as you avert your gaze from his, tears spilling from your eyes. “The worst part is that- that I believed you when you said you just wanted to interact with fans. I really— God I was even happy for you. I trusted you, Eddie. Co-Completely. You know how big that is for me and you manipulated it.”

He’s rushing towards you now, dropping your charger and taking your hands in his. “No. No, listen, I- I didn’t realize, I didn’t know it- Baby, I thought it wouldn't matter, I thought you wouldn’t care because I’m yours. We’re together so why does it matter? I- I won’t date them, I won’t fuck them, I don’t love them, baby. I love you.”

You sigh and look down at your feet, unable to watch as his eyes fill with tears. 

You wish he hadn’t said that. The first time you get to hear the words ‘I love you’ coming from his lips and it’s in a setting like this..

“Okay. I believe you, Ed, but… You broke my trust, you technically ch- cheated.” His eyes widen almost comically and as his mouth starts to shape the word ‘No’ you cut him off again. “You say you didn’t but just because you weren’t going to have sex with them doesn’t mean that you should let them all over you like that!” 

Your anger bubbles up again and you finish packing, grabbing your charger and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “You’re not that stupid, Ed. You know what you did was wrong otherwise you wouldn’t have pushed those girls off you when I showed up.” You turn to leave the room but you’re compelled to ask him one more question. 

“Did you how this makes me look? You’re supposed to be mine yet there are girls all over you. It looks like I can’t satisfy you, like I’m not enough. And you know I have shit with what. Or it looks like I’m a fucking idiot letting my boyfriend get felt up by fucking groupies while I’m in the back, none the fucking wiser.” 

His tears are spilling now, one currently streaming dramatically down his cheek. “But we- Like we don’t— You don’t have to leave me. We- I’ll be better. I love you, I don't love them I just.. I’ve never gotten attention like that.. I- I just wanted to know what it felt like.” 

You know he’s trying to get through to you, that he’s trying to explain away and excuse what he did but he’s just hurting you further. Why wasn’t my attention enough? 

“Yeah no, I figured that and um… Ed, I think we should take some time apart.” All you get from him is a badly veiled sob. 

“You can flirt around all you want and… and we’ll see if we still have anything between us by the end of it.”

It’s been a little over a month now. 

He called off band practice until further notice. 

You miss him. 

You took the first week apart to come to terms with what you had just done. It was a smart move. You’re not stable enough to let Eddie flirt around with your trust, especially since it had started behind your back. This way was better. You could take some time to yourself while Eddie does whatever he wants. You decided he could come back whenever he was ready, as long as he didn’t do anything with anyone. 

You meant what you said when you left him but you started regretting it after seeing the obvious dip in Eddie’s happiness. You’d see him in school with his head perpetually down. He doesn’t interact with you at all, he doesn't look at you on campus, he sits on the opposite side of the classroom for any class the two of you have together, and makes it a point to never turn in your direction. 

You truly wanted him to relish in the fame without any guilt on your part. You figured it’d hurt you but you wanted Eddie to be able to experience the popularity he never had before. He was supposed to take his newfound freedom and spread his wings however he wished but instead he just wallowed in what he had lost. 

You hoped he’d come to you in the third week, let you know he doesn’t want he freedom you’ve granted him and he’d beg for you back. But it never happened. You thought about going to him, letting him know that you can see him struggling and you forgive him and you guys can get back together like nothing happened. But your pride couldn’t let you. He hurt you and now he’s hurting, it's fair but you shouldn’t have to be the one to concede. 

After the fourth week, you realized your mistake. You should’ve known Eddie would never have the confidence to come back to you, to ask you for another chance, to ask you to forgive and forget his past crimes. You should’ve given him a set timeframe, you should’ve told him he was free to come back when he was ready. 

In the fifth week, Gareth called a meeting. He’d had enough of the missed practices and awkwardness amongst the band. You all responded to his email in agreement. Except Eddie. 

You thought about going over to his house before practice, just to see if he was planning on showing up, to see if he was okay. But you didn’t.

You were actually quite happy to catch up with the others. You joke about how badly all your skills have diminished without a month of practice. Doug jokes about how he mostly misses the DnD nights. As if on cue, Eddie walks in. 

He’s silent and his hair is a mess, obviously not taken care of and it breaks your heart. The room falls sadly silent as Eddie unpacks his guitar and takes a seat. You feel the tension in the room suffocating you and before you can think the action through you spit out a quiet. “Jesus, Eddie.”

The boys laugh beside you and you roll your eyes before making your way over to him. Eddie looks star-struck, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide as he stares up at you, admiring the olive branch you’re extending. 

You take in his bloodshot eyes— high, and his dark circles. Your heart clenches in your chest, recalling the various late-night calls with Eddie as he complains about his insomnia, and how he would wish you were there to soothe him.

You stand beside his chair, shake your head in teasing disapproval, and run your fingers through his roots. You sigh at the immediate tangle that meets you and lock eyes with him, a playful smirk on your lips. “Where’ve you been, Eddie?”

He sucks in a soft breath to answer before Jeff cuts him off with a loud clap. “Alright, positions everyone. What’re we practicing?” You smile at him one last time before heading for your mic. 

“We could start working on “Do I Wanna Know?” Doug suggests and Eddie immediately groans out. He is very open about his hate for the song, about how he thinks it's overplayed and has no substance. In reality, everyone knows he’s just frustrated with the chords. He always wants his hands busy and the chords to this song just aren’t stimulating enough for him, he thinks they’re “boring”.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Ed. This is what the people wanna hear.” Doug defends as he picks up his bass. You clear your throat and Gareth situates himself behind his drums. Eddie is the only one who doesn’t get in formation, staying seated across from you to your left, almost in your line of sight. You make an effort to keep your eyes forward as Gareth starts the beat, pretending you can’t feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he starts his riff. 

You do your best to keep it together as you notice how easily his hands glide across the guitar, you don’t even see him look down once. You rock in time with the drums before singing out the first line. 

It feels shaky and your voice is scratchy but you power through, the boys know you need some warm-up. Your voice evens out by the next pause and you’re starting to feel more confident. 

“Are there some aces up your sleeve?” 

You see Eddie nodding in approval in the corner and you try not to let pride bleed into your voice. 

“Have you no idea that you’re in deep?”

You look over at him to see him still watching you. 

“I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.” 

You note the recognition in his eyes before you break contact, looking back at the base of your mic stand. 

“How many secrets can you keep?”

You think about how the first time you heard this song it reminded you of Eddie. It almost perfectly encapsulated how you felt for him prior to dating, and it ironically relates to how you feel about him now. Still obsessed but too prideful to do anything about it. 

You can see Eddie still staring at you from his corner, unwavering. He always gets a little more confident with his guitar, but it’s been so long since you’ve been around him you feel stupid, like a little girl with a crush. 

Doug and Gareth come in as your backing vocals. 

“Do I wanna know?”

You take your eyes away from the mic stand and look straight ahead. 

“If this feeling flows both ways.”

You see Eddie sit up in his seat.

“Sad to see you go”

“Was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay.”

You start swaying with the beat, getting more loose, and feeling the song. You switch from foot to foot, swinging your hips gently with a smile. 

“That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

You look over at him again. 

“Crawling back to you.”

You say the next line as a genuine question, openly targeting him now. 

“Ever thought of calling when, you’ve had a few?”

You glance away from him, nervous under his penetrating stare. He hasn’t looked away from you once. You’re wondering where all this confidence was in the past few weeks. All he needed was for you to speak to him. You study his face, his reaction to the next line. 

“Maybe I’m too, busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I’ve thought it through. Crawlin’ back to you.”

Eddie’s hands finally rest and he leans forward in his chair, cocking one eyebrow at you as if to ask ‘Really?’ and you respond with the next line. 

“So have you got the guts?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before sitting back and adjusting his guitar strap. He runs his hands down his thighs, wiping his clammy palms on his sweatpants as he watches you perform. It’s been so long since he’s seen you, even longer since he’s seen you without it hurting his heart. He’s missed you. 

He takes you in. He notices the pink on your nails, a different shade than the last time he noticed. He can’t help but run his eyes down your body, loving the way you move to the beat, the way you’re shimmying your shoulders. His eyes focus on your lips. 

“Simmer down and pucker up”

He gets entranced with the way they form around your words. He misses feeling them on his, on him. He remembers how soft they are, how raw they get when you’ve bitten them bloody. He watches them stretch over your pearly white teeth in a smile. He can feel your eyes on him again but he can’t pull himself away from your mouth. Not even to look at his guitar as his time comes up. 

You watch Eddie pick his guitar up and start playing again, zombie-like movements as he zeros in on your lips. You try to focus on the words, to stay on key, not stutter or slip up. But Eddie's eyes snap to yours. 

“But we could be together… If you wanted to.”

He takes a deep breath after your last line, as if he was waiting to hear it, like it’s confirmation. You can’t help the smirk that your smile morphs into and Eddie looks down. It looks like he’s focusing on his chords but his eyes are closed, deep breaths filling his lungs as he tries to calm down. 

You’re sure that your performance is mediocre due to the lyrics and pitch being the last thing on your mind. You watch Eddie’s hand slide lazily across the guitar, his ringed fingers moving faster than you could comprehend without even a fraction of his attention. You ignore the pooling in your stomach and look away from him again, trying to focus on anything else. 

“Crawling back to you.” 

You pretend not to hear the smirk in Gareth's voice. You see Eddie looking up at you again in your peripherals. He sits back and adjusts himself, lifting his hips, lowering his guitar and when you glance over you can see a lip tucked under his teeth. 

“Maybe I’m too—”

You see Eddie leaning forward as he stares at you, begging for your attention so you turn to him. His eyes soften and you can see his chest heave ever so slightly. 

“-busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I’ve thought it through. Crawlin’ back to you.”

You go through the motions for the rest of the song. You keep eye contact with Eddie through all of it. 

Everything around you is forgotten as he looks into your eyes. You’ve missed him so much.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!! reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated!

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. This chapter contains medical trauma in an emergency room, as well as pregnancy loss.

I was going to do my usual thing and post this tomorrow, but i felt too bad making yall wait so you get a one-two punch of pain today (on the bright side, and i promise this, things start to go uphill from here, if you could believe it <3)

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 16

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The darkened operating theater’s focused silence was sharply interrupted with the sound of ringing coming from the phone tucked away in the circulating nurse’s back pocket.  It was very obviously from Law’s phone, but the entire surgical crew kept their heads lowered and honed in on their work.  It was quite difficult to break your stride when someone’s body was cut completely open and their beating heart was framed by a metal cage keeping the layers of fat and muscle from closing.  The nurse was checking oxygen levels of the patient and simply let the phone continue to ring.  No one said a word.

The ringing stopped.

Then it started again.

“Just let it go,” Law mumbled.  He couldn’t be bothered, not when he was quite literally inside someone’s heart.  A mitral valve replacement required just as much care as any other open heart procedure, despite being a relatively easy operation for his skilled hands.

The ringing stopped.  The nurse stepped away from the monitor and made a circle around the team, checking instruments, patient vitals, and needed materials.

Then the ringing started again.  This time, a few glances were tossed around the room by the attending surgeons and nurses, but Law kept his head down, neck-deep in his work.  The nurse pulled the phone out of her back pocket and assessed the screen.  Your photo and name were displayed.

“Doctor, it’s your wife,” she announced.

“End the call and text her that I’ll get back to her when I can.”

Following his instructions precisely, the nurse tapped the red End Call button, opened her doctor’s phone with his passcode from their previous go at this very situation, and navigated to his text messages, pulling up your conversation.  She had to suppress a smile at the photo that was set for your contact- a photo of you and what she assumed to be your dog, both grinning brightly at the camera.  She began to text.

Hi, this is Doctor Trafalgar’s circulating nurse again!  He’s currently in the middle of an operation but he’ll call you back when he’s done!

She was about to put the device back in her pocket when it buzzed with another incoming text message.

Wifey

This is Law’s friend Shachi.  Idk operating room etiquette but his wife was taken to the emergency room from her job, im here with her and another friend.  Can you relay the message somehow?  Thanks.

The unsuspecting nurse felt her heartbeat grow anxious.  She herself didn’t really know how to properly announce that information to her supervising doctor, let alone the entire room of fellow technicians and nurses surrounding a patient with his chest fully exposed and heart cut open.

“Everything good?” the tired voice of the lead doctor called from his position, slightly hunched over the body under the bright lights and protective sheet.  He had stepped back only mere centimeters to let an attending nurse go in with sutures.

“Uhm…” the circulating nurse felt her palms grow sweaty beneath her blue medical gloves.  “It was one of your friends, your wife is in the emergency room, apparently.”

Law felt his blood run cold.  His head shot upward to look at the poor nurse who was now unfortunately involved in this, staring at her with wide, golden eyes below his magnifying hood.  He must have looked profoundly stupid partnered with his surgical mask and bright blue hair net.  “What did he say?”

“That was it, he just said to call him back as soon as he could,” she responded nervously.

“Doctor, the surgery’s almost completed if you–” one of his technicians began before being interrupted by the doctor.

“No, I’ll never leave the operating room until the procedure is finished.  Don’t worry about me, continue your focus on the patient.”  But for the first time in Law’s entire professional life, his focus was everywhere but the patient.  Why were you in the emergency room?  Why were you taken from work?  What in the world had happened?

Were you having another miscarriage?

No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring his focus back to the unconscious patient on the table in front of him.  He felt like a ghost out of his own body, merely observing his rigid frame standing amongst his colleagues, frozen in time and place, glued to the cold tiled floor.  Petrified.  Chills were creeping up and down his vertebrae, spreading out to the very tips of his fingers, making him wish he could run.  Run as fast as he could, run to the next building to where the emergency department was and run through every room to find you.  He needed to find you.

The surgery could not have ended sooner.  As soon as he was given the clear that the patient was in the recovery ward, he was sprinting with all of his might through the halls of the cardiac ward, out through the lobby, and into the bright summer sun that seemed to be mocking him in his frantic state.  His lab coat trailed behind him and passing nurses and patients jumped out of his way as he barreled down the bright sidewalk of the hospital complex, passing small bundles of blooming flowers that almost shook with how fast his feet were carrying him.  He felt like his heart might evacuate from his chest, or that he would surely lose his lunch with the stress of the unknown.

He rounded a corner and entered the emergency wing through a back entrance using his ID, sprinting to the nearest nurse’s desk barely catching his breath.  The young woman behind the counter, caught off guard by his sudden burst into the space, was staring at the man with wide, blue eyes, her fingers frozen mid-typing on her mechanical keyboard.

“T… Trafalgar.  Where,” was all he was able to gasp out as he clung to the counter catching his breath.  He never was much of an athlete.

The young nurse hurriedly picked through the screen of her computer monitor.  “Room 114.”

“Thank you,” he wheezed as he pushed himself off again, this time speed walking through the large corridors of the emergency room, not wanting to cause an issue with the attending doctors.  He passed by empty gurneys and folded wheelchairs, idle medicine carts and nurses chatting with one another, another ordinary day for them.  Room 114 seemed so far away.

Finally, the number appeared on the wall to his right.  The door was wide open, multiple bodies hunched over the bed.  Shachi and Ikkaku bolted upright from their chairs, mouths open about to speak to Law, but he pushed past them and into the crowd of nurses.

Your wrists were strapped to both handles of the bed you occupied, your eyes squeezed shut and an oxygen mask was forcefully strapped to your face, so tight your skin was visibly pinching through the hard elastic straps.  The hose extending from the mask and into an on-board oxygen monitoring machine seemed so foreign on your beautiful face.  A few heart rate electrodes were placed on your chest, picking up a well above average heartbeat.  Your feet were weakly flailing under the covers as multiple nurses had their hands on you, assessing your blood pressure, your oxygen, hands on your abdomen, your legs, your breasts.

Law saw red.

“BACK THE FUCK UP,” he shouted, finally drawing attention to himself from the surrounding nurses.  Hospital etiquette could fuck off for all he cared.  His wife had her wrists bound.  “GET AWAY FROM HER.”

“Doctor, please,” a man from beside your bed rushed forward toward the cardiac surgeon, placing his hands on his shoulders.  “Please don’t yell-”

“Why the hell is she tied to the bed?!” he demanded, every fiber of his being forcing him to maintain at least some level of composure.  Behind him, Ikkaku grabbed Shachi’s wrist and dragged him out of the room, not wanting to put their friend under any more stress.

“She was thrashing in the ambulance, we needed to restrain her,” the male nurse explained, attempting to push Law back from your bed.

Law looked past the nurse’s shoulder and screamed once more.  “I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER.”

A much larger male nurse stood up from his place around your bed.  When he stepped aside, his legs revealed a bright red biohazard container on the ground, a mere glimpse of the pants you were wearing that morning peeking into Law’s field of view.  

“Doctor, calm down or I’m going to call security,” the bigger man threatened, stepping toward Law and giving his shoulders a firm shove backwards.  He was built less like your average nurse and more like a basketball power forward, and the force of his hands against Law’s shoulders sent the black-haired surgeon stumbling backward.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he seethed.  “What kind of nurse ties a patient to the bed when they’re panicking, huh?!  Is that what they’re teaching you ingrates?!  Tying a panicking woman to a bed to keep her still?!”

He forced his way past the larger nurse, much to the man’s discontent, and pushed through the other employees surrounding your bed.  His first action was to loosen the straps of the oxygen mask on your face, giving your skin room to breathe.  His deft hands ripped the velcro blood pressure cuff off of your bicep, tossing it back to a nurse who had stepped away, shocked by his actions.  The oxygen monitor on your finger was next, followed by the restraint on your left hand, which fell limp next to your body.  Your wedding ring was missing.

“Where’s the ring?” Law asked, forcing the blood oxygen monitor into the hands of the same nurse who took the cuff from him.

“What ring?” the basketball nurse asked, visibly angry with the doctor’s intrusion.

“The wedding ring on her left hand.  Where the hell is it?”

A very small, meek voice piped up from across your bed.  “It was removed in the ambulance because the paramedic was afraid she’d hurt herself with it.”

“Hurt herself, or hurt you?” snarled Law referring to the confused gaggle of nurses that had come into contact with his wife, already fed up with whatever excuses they were giving him.  If he was more rational, he could argue that they were simply doing their jobs, but even from his standpoint, what they were doing to you was clearly too much.  “I want every single one of you out of this room, and I want an attending doctor here immediately.  I need one of you to find that damn ring and bring it back to me.  Don’t make me ask twice.”

A few nurses took the opportunity to scramble from the room, visibly frazzled by the surgeon’s fit of rage.  The two male nurses from prior, however, stood their ground.

“You’re not in our department, doc, I’m afraid we can’t take orders from you.”  The larger nurse crossed his arms over his chest in defiance as Law stood between your body and the man.

“Then take my directions as the family member of a patient.  Get.  The hell.  Out.”  If Law were to see himself, he’d have absolutely no idea where this authoritative side of him came from.  He was never one for verbal or physical confrontation, more used to shutting down and bottling in his feelings than displaying them outright, and never would he ever think to get in the face of an extended colleague, but now was not the time for rational thought.

The first nurse to put his hands on Law placed a hand on the shoulder of his fellow nurse, pulling him toward the door.  The larger man finally relented and followed his coworker out into the hallway and around the corner out of sight.  Silence had finally settled over the room and Law rushed to the other side of your bed to unstrap your right wrist from the metal barrier.  Your heart rate on the monitor was slowly starting to even out, but was still maintaining a fairly erratic pace.  His new position allowed him to get a glimpse into the red biohazard container that was improperly placed next to your bed.  Your pants, the ones you had purchased when out with your friends a few weeks prior and that you were excited to finally wear to work, were completely soaked with bright red blood.  The rest of your clothing was in the bucket, specks of blood on your socks, and the lower portion of your flowy summer shirt.  He shoved the bucket out of the way with the ball of his shoe, forcing down the nausea that crawled up his throat.

He placed his hand on your forehead, leaning over you, his face contorted in an agony that mirrored your own.  

Your eyes slowly opened, your body completely spent and exhausted.  He barely wanted to know what kind of ambulance ride you had endured that had rendered your usually-energetic and upbeat form into a shell of your former self.  Your irises were filled with sorrow, and your eyes immediately began welling with tears at the sight of your husband standing above you.  You gasped into the oxygen mask, almost choking on the breath of cold, spicy air that flowed through the hose and forced its way into your body.  Law was quick to pull the mask off, breaking every form of protocol he was familiar with.  He knew his outburst and actions easily risked his integrity as a high profile surgeon, but as he took in the sight of you, completely burnt out, humiliated, scratched up from the binding on your wrists and straps from the mask on your face, he couldn’t find the time to care about his integrity anymore.

Finally free from the confines of the mask, you sucked in a shaky breath, heavy, salty tears flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall.  You weakly reached a hand up to his, and he took it in both of his warm, calloused ones, clenching you tightly, funneling all of his love into you.

“Law…” you tried to speak, but your voice came out more like a croak.  He felt his heart shatter, splintering into toxic pieces of fiberglass that ripped at his flesh, that stung the soul and pierced the very heart he gave to you.  Your lips were violently quivering as your body shook with suppressed sobs, not having any more energy to scream.  All you were able to do was mouth the words, ‘I’m sorry.”

Law’s resolve shattered.  Whatever was left of his pride, his dignity, his status as your strong, unmoving, supportive husband, was fractured.  He crumpled above you, his legs shaking as his head fell to your trembling chest, his hands that held your own remaining close to his own lungs as the tears he had wanted to cry for the past two years of trying for a baby finally escaped from his eyes.  He sniffled, snot rapidly pooling in his sinuses as a result of his tears, but he continued to hold your trembling hand in his as he bit his lip so hard it stung, the scorching hot tears leaving his eyes feeling like trails of magma down his skin.  The smell of hospital sheets did not belong on you.  

The world seemed to implode in on your weak form in the hospital bed, your husband’s defeated body hunched over your own.

A crackled, broken sob exited his lungs.

[lonophobic]

“should’ve just begged for me in the first place, huh?”

tartaglia x male reader

tw: smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), top male reader, reader is a sadist, but tartag is a masochist so its all good lmao, binding, crying, begging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, nipple play, reader is mentioned to be a half-god, childe is called a whore once, childe is called ajax for this fic, i think thats it but im not sure lmao

genre: smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

summary: uhh plotless smut lol childe radiates bottom energy so much

a/n: this was supposed to be a small little thirst. small. idk what happened.

part 2!

!not proofread

—

y/n could hear ajax’s sobs as his tip leaked precum, a white puddle already resting on his stomach from the previous orgasms. his hands were tied behind his back, immobilizing him and rendering him helpless. you were still thrusting into his tight hole, the two of you covered in a thin layer of sweat. ajax’s back was leaning against the bed frame, yet his head was hanging down as you could hear his pants and soft sniffles. he didn’t even know how many times he had cum that night already, all he knew was that he wanted more- needed more. he felt you slow down, and as he was about to start complaining, he felt your lips against his, bringing him into a surprisingly soft kiss, which was a large contrast to how the two of you looked at that moment. tounges danced with each other as ajax could feel your dick twitch inside him. you pulled back, quickening your pace with a soft groan. you glanced at ajax’s tear- streaked face, then let go of one of his thighs you were holding up to trail up his chest until you were brushing your fingers against his hard nipples, which brought a raspy whimper up his throat. he was getting lost in the moment when you suddenly pinched his nipple, hard. you felt him tighten around you, letting out a hoarse moan while he threw his head back, hearing a bump from his head hitting the bed frame. you put your hand back to his thigh to hold it back up, and replaced your fingers with your mouth- licking, sucking, and biting the hardened nub. you heard him let out another sob as he spasmed around your cock, his cum being so thin at this point that he might as well be squirting water. his back arched off the bed frame, and you slowed down your thrusts until they came to a stop. you were a bit tired too- you cummed quite a bit already inside the harbinger. you were about to pull out to get cleaned up, but you felt your boyfriend bite your neck, keeping you in place.

“where do you think you’re going? i thought you said you’d fuck me dumb today. i expected more from a half-god.”

this made you chuckle- you’ve never met anyone else in your entire eternal life who could handle more rounds than ajax. it made you amused, excitement bubbling from your core.

“fine. we can go further. but-if you really want me to go harder-“

you paused to lean down and kiss his temple, leaning a bit further down to be right next to his ear to whisper-

“you’re gonna have to beg for it, you little whore.”

this sent shivers down ajax’s spine; he smirked, and replied with a snarky response.

“you’ll never see me beg for a good fucking, shouldn’t you just give it to me?”

~

ajax was squirming, openly sobbing. as much as he regretted saying those words to you, every inch of his body seemed to love it. he had been denied orgasm after orgasm, your thrusting and hand jerking him off stopping right at the edge. it was driving him crazy- his eyes rolled to the back of his head, head tilting back as far as it could go before the bed frame stopped it. his mouth open wide as it spilled moan after moan, taking in huge gulps of air as he was fucked right to the edge, just to be pulled back. his tears were falling freely off of his eyes onto his cheeks, mind hazy from the intense feeling he was getting. he could barely process you were talking to him, but your hand gripping his chin to make him face you brought him back to reality.

“you want to cum?”

this sounded like a miracle to ajax; he had been on the edge for archons know how long, hours probably. he was willing to do anything for release at this point.

“YES-yesyesyes, please- please- i’m sorry i said that to you- pleasepleasepleaseplease just let me cum,”

he blurted out, tightening around the cock that had been ruining his insides for the past several hours. this seemed to satisfy you, and you leaned down to kiss his forehead with a soft smile.

“finally decided to listen, huh? well, i guess i could help you, since i’ve had my fun.”

you helped to shift ajax so that he was on his back, and retying his restraints so that they were tied against the bed frame. you suddenly brought his knees to his shoulders, which made ajax stiffen in surprise. when you slammed yourself back inside, he let out a loud, raspy moan that was almost a shout. you gave him no time to recover, pulling out until just the tip of your cock was inside and harshly trusting all the way back in. ajax could feel you so much deeper inside, your tip pressing against his prostate. he moaned loudly at every thrust, hearing the flesh of your hips snap against his bruised ass. you put his legs on your shoulders and leaning down so you could bite at his neck, hard enough to draw blood. you felt ajax’s back lift off of the bed as you sucked on the spot you had bit as you whispered soft praises into his ear, which were hardly processed by the ginger. you glanced down, seeing his stomach bulge with each thrust. as you bit down on another spot, you pressed down on the bulge, which finally pushed ajax over the edge. he screamed, sticky white liquid squirting from his tip. he clenched down hard on your cock, which made you cum as well with a moan. the two of you sat there for a minute, both panting as you calmed down from your highs. after a minute, he heard you chuckle.

“should’ve just begged for me in the first place, huh?”

you heard him laugh weakly, his voice raspy as he responded.

“i’ll be sure to get you back sometime.”

—

words: 996

damn i just wanted bottom childe and this is what my rotting brain created 🧍

planning a part 2 where foul legacy!childe tests the limits of his half-god boyfriend 🤗

edit: forgot to add tags lmao