#“And I wonder how long it'll be broken”

[kaulitzily]

Art of Loving

PAIRINGS: Bill 2009 x female reader

GENRE: fluff & smut

SYNOPSIS: “Your mom hates me..” She'll definitely yell at him if she sees all those hickeys you gave him. Bill laughs with you, snuggling closer to himself. “Don't worry,” he starts, playing with your hair. “My mom hates me too..”

WARNINGS: sex, p in v, poor relationship with mother, eating disorder, self-esteem issues

A/N: english is not my native language! I'll say in advance that there is a time discrepancy here, since Bill's piercing described in the story was done later.

A strong wind and heavy rain were running through the streets of Magdeburg. Thunder roared in the thick clouds, and lightning frolicked somewhere nearby. The streets of Magdeburg are damp and fresh. People are gloomily walking about their business, busily holding colored umbrellas over their heads. But you and Bill are in your warm, cozy apartment, drinking raspberry tea and sitting on the balcony, watching people and dogs jumping merrily through shallow puddles.

“Hey, Schatz?” Bill's hoarse voice distracted from the dampness of the city.

You flinch and look at him. “Yes, Bill?” There's a cigarette smoldering in your hands. You and Bill.. Old friends.

His pale honey-colored eyes are directed into yours, and he asks with full seriousness, frowning: “Would you love me if I were a worm?”

You laugh out loud, hiding your face in your hands. Bill is still serious. Through your laughter, you say, “Listen, have you been taking anything?” You put out your cigarette on the iron railing of the balcony.

The brunette mutters indignantly, “I'm just curious! Well, answer me seriously!” He frowns and purses his lips resentfully.

“Okay, okay. Yes Bill, I will.” You smile and kiss Bill's broken knuckles, his wounds contrasting strongly against his pale skin. You're frowning. “Where did you get your knuckles hurt like that?”

The grin on his pale face began to play. “I hit the wall, Schatz. Because I'm an angry teenager.”

You let out a small laugh and stroke his hands. “An angry teenager who is 19 years old? Very interesting.” Bill rolls his eyes and clucks.

“And why did you hit the wall? She didn't do anything to you.” You mock him, you smile.

The brunette shakes his head, leaning his hands on the railing, rubbing his painted eyes. “She called me a jerk. What an idiot. Can you believe it?” He looks at you hopefully. You shake your head, laughing, and pull him by the back of his head, gently kissing his mole under his lower lip.

Kaulitz lifts the corners of his lips. “I don't deserve you, Schatz. You're amazing.. I'm just a piece of trash.”

“Stop it, Bill. Your depression shouldn't affect my attitude towards you in any way. You're wonderful.” You easily lift his black sweater, run your fingers over his protruding ribs.

Bill is painfully thin.. He smiles, wincing slightly at the tickle. “Okay, okay, but I still don't understand how you can love me after all that I've done. You're crazy, Schatz. You're an alien.”

“You've revealed my secret!” You laugh softly and kiss his thin, pale neck, removing his dark dreadlocks so as not to interfere.

Kaulitz lifts you up in his arms, holding you by the buttocks. “Come on! I've been waiting for this for so long! Give me your sweet lips..”

You shake your head and frown. “Bill, I'm fat, don't lift me up.” You kiss his neat nose. You can't kiss, it'll cloud your minds, blow your mind off. You feel like he's putting you on the balcony railing. Dangerous. Nice.

Bill presses his weathered, rough lips to yours, the taste of nicotine and berries in his mouth, the wind blows harder, hugs your shoulders, plays with the hem of your shirt, under which only underwear is. “You and I are such good friends, aren't we?” You're smiling, mocking me again.

You feel Bill kissing your neck, gently but biting. See how his hands are shaking. Just a second ago, you were just standing there and having a heart-to-heart conversation. He kisses you wetly and buries his long fingers in your hair. The night sky is covered with stars, like rhinestones on a black velvet fabric.

You wrap your long legs around his pelvis, wrap your frozen fingers around his neck. He holds you tightly by the waist, preventing you from falling from the tenth floor. Your short hair is blowing in the wind, his eyes are completely black, the pupil overlaps his bright amber iris. Tears are streaming from your eyes, you don't understand why.

He whispers, breathing heavily, “I.. Love you..” Lips are joining, rain and wind are hitting in the face, teeth are trembling from the cold. Your bodies are hot despite the cold outside. The skin touches, burning each other. You can feel him biting your tongue and lips. Heartbeat is pounding in temples, and ears are throbbing. Bill's hands creep under your thin shirt, stroke your delicate skin, he does not leave your lips, kisses are more and more ragged, dirty, wet.

Your chest is heaving. Both of them have wet hair from the rain. Bill looks into your eyes, and.. Smiling. You smile back and hold him close, massage his scalp, catch a sigh from his lips. You drop your head on his shoulder, breathing heavily.. You laugh and kiss his bare collarbone: “Your mom hates me..” She'll definitely yell at him if she sees all those hickeys you gave him.

Bill laughs with you, snuggling closer to himself. “Don't worry,” he starts, playing with your hair. “My mom hates me too. She always hated all my girlfriends. She still wants me to be with that empty-headed blonde from my school, her friend's daughter. But I don't give a fuck.. I'm not doing this for her, but for you.” He hugs you tighter and kisses you on the forehead.

You smile and kiss his plump, bitten lips. “Stop biting them, seriously.”

“I can't, Schatz.” He gently kisses your neck, the touch of his lips makes goosebumps run through your body. His hair tickles your body. Some gloomy passerby shouts at you, calling your actions disgusting and depraved, and that you shouldn't do it, because people see them.

Bill pulls away from your lips, looks at you coldly and gives him his middle finger. He looks back at you and kisses you on the forehead. “Do you want more, Schatz?”

“Pervert.” You kiss his nose. Bill has tongue piercings, eyebrows, septum, and snake bites lips. You gently run your thumb over his lip piercing. “Your mom scolded you for the punctures, didn't she?” You're smiling slyly. Bill gently kisses your finger.

“She tried to stop me, but I'm 19, and I do whatever I want with my body. With her screams, she even gives more reason to disobey.” He lets out a chuckle. Bill's mother thinks you're spoiling him. You have a lot of piercings yourself. He lifts his hands under your shirt and runs his icy fingers over your hot skin.

“By the way.. How's your math score? Does your mom already know?” You stroke his face, kiss his forehead, and remove the strands of hair that get in his way.

“She doesn't know yet. The mother will scream, again. She's always screaming about everything.” He kisses you behind the ear, and softly whispers, “Let's skip school tomorrow? Let's say you're sick. We'll be alone in my room all night. Just you and me..”

“I'd love to, but this will be your fifth absenteeism in a month. You'll be expelled, and your mother will hate me even more.” You smile and laugh briefly, even though it's not really funny at all.

He kisses your whole face. “I don't care. I absolutely don't give a fuck about my mother and my studies, I'm so tired of this shit. The only thing I care about is you. You and my desires. Will you stay with me tomorrow, or are we going to continue our argument all night?”

“I love you.” You're kissing his own plump lips. “But, let's take all the exams for five first, okay? I'll help you fix the deuce. Especially considering that you've already passed 4 exams perfectly! Now pass the math and that's it!” You stroke his hair. “What are you going to do after school?”

He strokes your face and kisses your ear, whispers in a hoarse voice: “I haven't decided yet, I have at least a month ahead of me. But first, I'm going to do some wonderful things with you tonight..”

You smile and slap him on the forehead. “You're good at drawing. Why don't you go to an art academy? Like me.”

He kisses you and squeezes you like you're a toy. Finally he pulls away. “Well, I'll think about it. But I don't know. Maybe I'll accept your offer.”

Three weeks have passed since that day. Bill's mother kicked him out of the house when he told her that he was going to art academy, and not to study medicine, as she wanted. Actually, it was expected, so now he lives with you, in your apartment.

Today is an important day - Bill's graduation. You stand and stare at him when he comes on stage to collect his red diploma for his patience and hard work. You're very proud of him.

He was dressed in a classic black suit, and a dark red tie stood out against his snow-white shirt. Yours, by the way. A short jacket was draped over his shoulders, loose trousers were put on, and he tied his dreadlocks into a low ponytail, not wanting to annoy the director with his appearance even more. He was so incredibly handsome and terribly uninterested in the praise of the director and the many teachers who came out to say their last words to him. Most of the students in the junior, middle and senior grades were crying from the realization that they would not see him again.

His father is standing next to you, and on the other side is Tom, who has already collected his diploma. The mother of the twins did not attend the ceremony, being offended, because besides her, everyone supported your relationship with Bill. His family is very proud of him, looking at him with smiles on their faces.

Bill catches your eye and winks, waving his hand at you. He fascinated you with his appearance. You smile and wave back at him, playfully blowing him a kiss. Bill is embarrassed when he finally picks up his "cherished" diploma, he comes down to you, and you meet him with a large bouquet of white daffodils. He takes your hand, smiling happily, and takes a step back, pulling you in so that you don't interfere with the other graduates and their parents. You rise on tiptoe, you feel his happy, loving gaze on you. He kisses you on the cheek, blushing, and you can hear his sweet laugh for a couple of moments, as if the world ceases to exist around you, as if you are alone in the whole boundless universe. You hear loud screams and applause. The boys from the twelfth grade released a pair of white pigeons into the sky.

“Congratulations, my graduate!” You're smiling.

Bill's father and Tom come up to Bill and hug him tightly, patting him on the shoulder, congratulating him on graduating from high school with excellent grades. Bill smiles sheepishly. Many of his friends and acquaintances also congratulated and said goodbye to him. But his eyes were only on me.

“I did it only because of you, Schatz. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have graduated with good grades.” He kisses your cheekbone with his rough lips, and then you can feel them on your lips.

“I'm proud of you!” You kiss him on the forehead, hugging him tightly.

Time has passed, Bill is already in his second year of fashion design, and you are in your third year of architecture. You're sitting together on the bedroom floor in your cozy little apartment. Bill makes sketches for his new collection of clothes, and you build accurate building plans. Kaulitz leans towards you, keeping his hand on your hip. You see that he uses you as a reference, like a living mannequin.

You stare at him and blush when he looks up at you with his piercing brown eyes. “What are you drawing, Bill?”

“I'm painting you, Schatz. You look like a model.”

You bend over to him and kiss his temple, seeing his satisfied smile. He wraps his long fingers around your face and lowers himself down, kissing your neck, whispering in your ear: “You don't even know how often I draw you.. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. And this beauty exists only for me. You're like a rare diamond that I'm hiding in my hands..”

He kisses your neck again, going down to the hollows of your collarbones, his hands slide up and down your thighs, gently scratching them with his black nails and squeezing, leaving barely visible traces. You smile and kiss his cheeks, stroking them with your thumbs.

“We should not be distracted from our work. The session is coming up, which means that the teachers won't be very happy if they see that we haven't drawn anything yet.” You touch your lips to the mole under his lower lip.

He clicks. “We can't, you're right, but I can't concentrate when you're next to me, honey. Your presence is already making me forget everything. You are my universe.” You can feel his hot lips on your neck, again. He whispers, scorching your thin skin with his hot breath: “My dear..” He kisses you on the line of your lower jaw. “My love.” His lips slide sideways, onto your adam's apple, biting weakly. “My diamond.” He's grabbing your artery with his teeth. “My everything.” He runs a wet path with his tongue. “I love you, Schatz.”

His lips are right next to your ear, his tongue is playing with the auricle, and his lobe with several metal rings is being playfully bitten. A wave of goosebumps envelops your body. You pull him by the back of his head and kiss his sweet, plump lips. You feel him sitting you on his lap, running your fingers over his chest through his black T-shirt, gently massaging his tense, tired shoulders. Bill either sighs or moans, throws his head back, wraps his arms around your waist, running his fingers along your back. His tongue slides between your lips, moistening you better than any lipstick, he lays you back on the cold floor, strewn with your sketchy works. Some of them stay under you, but it's not that fucking important. The only thing that matters to you right now is him. And the works can be redrawn.

Your bodies are pressed against each other, his lips don't leave yours, and you can feel him breathing heavily. He pulls away from you, but he's still holding you tight. He takes off his T-shirt, and you look at his big tattoo on his left side. Beautiful. Your legs were wrapped around his pelvis, your body trembled with anticipation in his arms. He smiles at you tenderly, picks you up in his arms and gently lays you on the bed, taking out a lubricant and condoms from the bedside table. He's kissing you again.

“What would you like to do today, honey? Standard or..” His lips stretch into a twisted grin.

“Pervert..” You lightly pinch his forearm and feel how he roughly turns you over on your stomach, lifting you up, forcing you to arch your back. Bill carefully places several pillows under you, adjusting the height that is comfortable for both of you.

“That's what I'm talking about, Schatz.” He presses his chest against your naked body, biting and kissing the back of your neck. He kisses your ear, bites your earlobe. You can feel the young man descending lower, showering your entire back with kisses and hickeys, leaving traces of his teeth in some places. His belt buckle is cold, metallic, pressed against your belt. Kaulitz sinks lower, you can feel his hot breath below.

Bill bites his buttock, kisses it, and massages the other with his strong hand. His lips slide down the inside of your thighs, to your bent knees and calves. He rises higher again, his lips touching you below. You're trembling with pleasure. He savors it, running his tongue between your labia and collecting moisture, smacking his lips, stroking your thighs and buttocks. His cold tongue piercing touches your clitoris, and with a loud groan, you jump up in bed as if you've been electrocuted. You can hear him chuckle.

Bill kisses slowly, wetly, sucks each crease in turn, and you feel his piercing ball gently sink into the hole, making you sob. Bill slides his hot and damn long tongue into your vagina, making you moan. His tongue slides over the wet walls, draws patterns, rubs the barbell in his tongue. You bury your face in the pillow, sobbing loudly and moving your hips towards it. Bill penetrates you with his fingers, without removing his tongue, and leaves a slap on your buttock as you lean forward, slipping away from him. His fingers spread inside in the manner of scissors, stroking the walls, moving like a wave, while he kisses your back, whispering reassuringly in your ear. You can't make out anything anymore.

“Princess..” His fingers work faster and rougher, penetrating deeper, scratching the walls. You sob loudly and move your hips towards him. You're close to the peak, and Bill knows it. He smiles slyly and slows down terribly much. His lips travel down your spine, leaving wet trails. Soon his fingers leave you altogether, with an indecent squish. Impatiently, you hear his belt buckle rattle and his jeans rustle as he throws them away.

You can feel him opening the lubricant and gently sliding his cold, greased fingers into you. A groan escapes from chest. Bill puts his cock in, sliding slowly and carefully deeper and deeper, making you moan. His hands gently stroke your hips, and he begins his movement. His thrusts are smooth, sensual. Bill carefully pulls your short hair into a ponytail and kisses your neck. You swallowed hard, your adam's apple twitched, and Kaulitz ran his long fingers curiously over it. He squeezed your throat experimentally, and you sob, throwing your head back in pleasure, closing your eyes. You want it to never end.

His thrusts gradually accelerate, the bed starts to creak softly, and Bill thrusts into you more fiercely. With each strong thrust, his hand tightens more noticeably on your neck, pulling more and more moans out of you. His rhythm is frenzied, the skin of his thighs collides with his buttocks, creating indecent slaps, natural lubricant and purchased oil mix and squish. Bill breathes raggedly, occasionally does not hold back and moans, driving his cock deeper, sharper, whispers compliments, kissing and biting hard on your shoulders, his voice occasionally breaks. He slows down abruptly, trying to catch his breath, teasing, barely swinging his hips. Holds you firmly in place, not giving you the opportunity to move back.

“Ask me, honey.. Ask for it, Schatz..” He's breathing heavily, his hands are shaking, squeezing your hips.

“Bill.. Bill, please.. please..”

He smiles contentedly and starts thrusting roughly, squeezing your ass and thighs painfully, moaning. The moment of climax overtakes you at the same time, he abruptly enters you as deeply as possible, and through a thin condom you feel his hot sperm. You're breathing heavily. You feel Bill pick you up in his arms and carry you to the bathroom..

You're both tired but happy, you're lying on Bill's chest, tickling him with your wet hair. His black T-shirt absorbs moisture. You're slowly falling asleep. Your drawings were still lying on the floor.

“Thank you for this wonderful evening, Schatz.” He kisses you on the forehead, smiling like a fool. You kiss the corner of his mouth and bite the guy's lower lip, gently pulling back his piercing and releasing it, fully kissing his plump lips.

“I love you.”

“And I love you more, baby.” He takes your hand and gently kisses your fingers. His lips slide to your wrists, nibbling lightly on the thin skin. You bury your fingers in his damp hair, and you feel yourself finally falling asleep.

The only thing you hear is this.. “Good night, Schatz. You deserve it. I hope you'll see me in your dreams.” He lifts the corners of his lips and you pass out.

Still, it's a good story.

Just about the two of you.

[buckingham-ashtray]

The Invisible Clubber........................ SMILING. CAN'T STOP SMILING. LIFE SO HAPPY. LOVE. LOVE LIFE. BEAT GETTING FASTER. CAN'T STOP SMILING. NOW JUST HARMONY. NO BEAT. MELODY. STOP MOVING. SMILE TO THE SKY. ALL STANDING STILL. BEAUTIFUL. NEVER BEEN SUCH HARMONY IN ALL HISTORY. WANT TO KISS EVERYONE. THEY WANT TO KISS ME. BREATHE IN. BREATHE OUT.................

Sebastian's Story.......... Sometimes I wonder what it'll be like to die. I'll find myself drifting off, staring at something, anything and I'll stop blinking. I feel my whole body slowing down... My heartbeat... And I wonder how long it'll be broken

*Sorry that I couldn't find the source where I got this from and have no idea when this was released. If anyone has the link I will be very glad to insert it!

[miodiodavinci]

i need to be asleep but i'm looking at the tax return money i have stashed away and wondering just how much of a quality upgrade i should make in terms of mixing headphones

[kaiser1ns]

#. KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, togame jo, takiishi chika, endo yamato

fluff. since when did you dream of a first kiss with the boy you like. and the chance finally came, but not everything turned out as imagined.

up to 500-600 words per scenario, i tried my best, sorry i'm still trying to describe romantic scenes womp womp, like and subscribe!

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You are so in love with this man that you can't get enough. Literally, you can't get enough of the way he is so oblivious to the hints you drop every single day. He is laughing yet again at something, surrounded by Furin first years and Hiragi at Kotoha's cafe. The desire to smack him on the head and tell him he is so stupid grows faster than the vegetables in his garden. Only Kotoha seems to notice your gloomy mood — you haven't touched the food she prepared, and it makes her worry.

"I'm going to give up if he doesn't do something soon," you tell your best friend, your voice tinged with frustration.

She pats your hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. Don't mind Hajime's antics. Boys take time to develop, you know."

You thank her and finish your food, but you still want to go home. Being in his presence feels draining right now. You quietly say goodbye to Kotoha and immediately leave, while she wonders what she can do to help you out.

You aren't far away when you hear running footsteps behind you and the voice you knew all too well. "Y/N, wait for me, please!" It's Umemiya, running worriedly towards you. You turn to face him as he pants from the exertion. "Kotoha said you wanted to talk about something with me. Is that why you left?"

Oh my, this girl. How dare she does this to you? You didn't want to tell him, you were supposed to be mad at him. "It seems that I have forgotten what I was going to say," you murmur, turning on your heel to walk away again. But he hugs you from behind, his grip strong and tight, your back against his chest.

"You wanted to have your first kiss, right?" There it goes, your best friend spilled everything to her brother. "I've noticed everything you did to indicate your wants and needs. I was just waiting for the right moment, when we aren't with people, like this ..."

He lets you go, turning you around and kissing you. His eyes are closed, but yours widen in surprise. The feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your back makes you relax. You're a blushing mess, a whirlwind of butterflies and emotions coursing through you. Hands find their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat race as fast as yours.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness you've longed to see. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere. You smile, your heart swelling with the butterflies going there instead. "You better make it up for all the waiting."

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I am a bit dense, huh?" You laugh, the sound light and genuine, laying your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat once again as he hugged you "Just a bit."

As he walks you to your home, hand in hand, you can't help but think about Kotoha and how she played Cupid, knowing exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.

SAKURA HARUKA

You’ve heard it all before, the endless litany of self-deprecation and doubt that spills from Sakurs’s lips like a broken record. It’s a familiar routine by now, his recounting of how he doesn’t deserve kindness or acceptance, how your sweetness to him feels misplaced. His voice wavers with each confession, half-hoping you’ll agree and half-fearing you’ll walk away.

“I don’t get why you’re so nice to me,” he says for the umpteenth time, eyes downcast. “I don’t deserve it.” Your eye twitches. You’ve had enough. The words repeat in your head, grating on your nerves. You care about him deeply, but his lack of self-worth is starting to drive you insane. He’s strong, capable, a fighter in every sense of the word—except when it comes to himself.

“Oh my god, Sakura, stop with this bullshit,” you snap, sharper than you intended. He blinks, taken aback. “Hah!?”

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s so frustrating. ‘I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve that.’” You mimic his tone, letting your irritation seep through. His eyes narrow, anger mixing with confusion. "Huh!?" He clenches his fists, the familiar motion of cracking his knuckles following. It’s a gesture meant to intimidate, but you’ve seen it too many times to be scared. “Shut up before I make you,” you threaten.

He meets your gaze gaze, unflinching. “Make me then. Let your fists do the talking.”

That’s it. The breaking point. You stand up abruptly, closing the distance between you. He braces himself, expecting a fight. You can see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his instinct to fight and his deep-seated fear of hurting you. Instead, you grab his face with both hands and pull him into a kiss. It’s sudden, forceful, and completely unexpected. His body tenses up, then melts against you, stunned into silence.

When you pull back, his face is a shade of red you didn’t think was possible to achieve. He’s a mess of incoherent sounds, his mind clearly struggling to process what just happened. “W-what… Huh!?”

“You shouldn’t talk so much crap,” you say calmly, sitting back down. “It’ll lead you to problems.”

He stands there, dazed and silent, a stark contrast to his usual self. You relish the quiet, the absence of his self-doubt hanging in the air. Finally, a moment of peace. Sakura haven't said a word all day, lost in his thoughts. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, hoping that your impulsive act has left an impression, that maybe he’ll start to see himself the way you see him.

SUO HAYATO

The boy himself, the living legend of making people accept his requests with his teasing smile, is sitting next to you. His beautiful dark brown eyes make you melt like chocolate left out in the hot sun. Suo Hayato, the enigma from the neighboring school, is here in your living room, surrounded by your scattered chemistry notes. You begged him for help with your homework, and in his usual style, he agreed with a condition. You, expecting another teacake request, readily agreed.

The two of you sit on the floor, papers spread out across the table. Hayato explains the properties of alkaline metals and their reactions. His hand occasionally brushes against yours, sending a jolt through your system each time. He notices your reactions, the subtle glances you steal, the way you tense and relax. He is enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And that’s all. I’m sure you’ll ace the test, L/N-san,” he concludes with a smile.

A few days later, you find yourself beaming as you show him your test. Maximum points. You’re the only student with a perfect score, and Hayato knows it. His smile widens, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

“I knew you’d do it. But don’t you forget something?” he prompts.

Ah, yes, his reward. “No, I didn’t forget, Suo-kun.” You reach into your bag and pull out a box of homemade teacakes. “Here, just the way you like them.” He takes the box, smiling with one eye closed, the other hidden beneath his signature eyepatch. “Oh, thank you very much. So kind as always.” he pauses “But I wanted something sweeter.”

Confused, you stand there trying to figure out what he means. Wasn’t he on a diet? Perhaps you should brew him some tea. He chuckles, observing you and most possibly reading your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want freshly brewed tea.” His voice is soft, but there's an edge to it. How does he always know what you’re thinking? Does he know you wanted to kiss him while you studied? His perceptiveness is both thrilling and intimidating.

“So what do you want?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat. “You.”

Before you can process his words, his lips are on yours, warm and insistent. Your bag slips from your shoulder, landing with a soft thud. The kiss is everything you imagined and more, a perfect blend of surprise and inevitability. You feel the chemistry, the undeniable connection between element Suo and element Y/N, strong and unbreakable.

You pull away, still in shock, as he steps back. His hands are behind his back, holding the box of teacakes, but his eyes are fixed on you. He turns to leave, but glances back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting for more chemistry tests to help you out,” he says, a promise in his voice. And you know, without a doubt, that his request will always be met.

KAJI REN

You had always admired the way Kaji Ren seemed to be in his own world, headphones clamped over his ears and a strawberry lollipop lazily balanced between his lips. He was lost in thought, probably wondering about you, always worried—if you needed help, how your day went, if there was someone he needed to deal with for you. His obliviousness gave you the perfect opportunity. You appeared in front of him and, snatching the lollipop from his mouth, putting it in your own.

"What the—" His initial reaction was irritation, a typical Kaji Ren tantrum brewing, until he saw you standing there, and that devilish look in your eyes. You were still in your school uniform, like you always are when he waits to walk you home.

"Oh, strawberry one. My favorite." You teased, a smile tugging at your lips. He scoffed, too tired to engage in your banter, as started walking behind you, when you suddenly stopped. Before he could react, you snatched his headphones and dashed off.

You were fast, but Kaji was faster. In a heartbeat, he caught up, slamming you gently against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in. You looked up at him, a devilish grin on your face.

"Now, what, Ren?" you taunted, breathless.

For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to figure out his next move. Then, in a move that surprised both of you, he grabbed the lollipop from your mouth and tossed it on the ground. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger and urgency that sent the butterflies right into your stomach. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, tasting the sweet strawberry flavor that lingered on your lips.

You kissed back with equal hunger, your hands tangling in his hair. Time seemed to stand still as you both poured everything into that kiss. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, as you stared at the blonde boy.

"Do you want to try an apple flavor next time?" you asked, a teasing once again.

"Shut up," he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He snatched his headphones back and started walking again, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. You ran up to him and slipped your hand into his. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, he squeezed your hand tightly.

TOGAME JO

You never go into Shishitoren territory without Togame. He’s your personal bodyguard, a very fine one at that, and he insists on accompanying you every time. Texting him is a lost cause—he never responds. At least, that’s what he wants you to believe, even though your texts are the only ones he ever reads. So, you always call to tell him you are under the bridge, waiting for him.

Tonight, the two of you are wandering down a bustling street, searching for a pub to settle in. The crowd is big at this time of the night, and Togame keeps his hand firmly on your waist, ensuring you stay close. Despite him wanting to keep you close and safe, you are always slipping away, and it drives him crazy.

You meander through, your curiosity piqued by a very interesting shop window. Something inside catches your eye, and you pause to admire it. Meanwhile, he is frantic, scanning the crowd for any sign of you. When he finally spots you, relief floods his body, quickly replaced by an angry expression. The Shishitoren vice-capitain makes a note to buy the item for you tomorrow, but now is not the time. He strides over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards a quieter, more secluded area.

“What if something happened to you? Do you know how much I’d regret that?” His usual slow, measured speech is now rapid and laced with frustration.

You look down, guilt washing over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He sighs heavily, his expression softening as he sees your sad face. Gently, he tilts your chin up, his fingers brushing away the few tears that have escaped. “Don’t cry now, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. You hadn’t expected your first kiss to happen like this, in a quiet, dimly lit alley, but it’s with Togame Jo, and that’s all that matters.

His hands cradle your face, thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You close your eyes, relaxing in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. It is soft, tender, and unhurried. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the two of you in this moment. His lips are warm, and he takes his time, savoring the feel of you, as butterflies made their way to your stomach. When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, faces mere inches apart.

He presses his forehead against yours, a small smile playing making its way, reassuring you that everything was fine, “Just... don’t do that again, okay?”

You nod, still dazed from the kiss. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you back to the crowded street, but this time, his grip is gentler, more safe. The bustling city seems a little less overwhelming with him by your side, and you can’t help but smile, stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering with every step. Togame catches your eye and squeezes your hand, his own smile growing wider.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

He showed up at your house, knocking on the window as you sighed, getting up from your bed. You, of course, let him in, seeing how he was again stained with blood that was not his. It was the same every time: he came to you so you could patch him up, fix him, give him a shower, change of clothes and a place to sleep in. You never ask questions, and he never offers explanations. Tonight is no different as you sit in his lap, bandaging his face and hands.

You're not a couple; you're not anything. It’s complicated. There are unspoken words between you, a delicate balance that neither of you dares to disrupt. As you sit on his lap and clean his face, you find yourself closer than before. His yellow eyes, intense and piercing, lock onto yours, heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. You’re getting closer, inch by inch. Hesitation grips you, your breath caught in your throat.

"Don't move." Just as you think of pulling away, his hand moves behind your head, gently but firmly pushing you forward. Your lips meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s surprising, the gentleness of it, especially coming from someone as fiery and unpredictable as Chika. The kiss is brief, a fleeting moment that feels that for once you were something. When it ends, you pull back slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of what this meant to him. But his expression is the same as every day. And then you are back to becoming nothing.

For you, it meant everything. It’s a confirmation of the connection you’ve always felt but never acknowledged. But what did it mean for him? You're not sure, and you don't dare to ask. Not now. Maybe not ever. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can think about this later. Right now, he still needs you. You focus on his injuries, cleaning and bandaging.

Chika watches you work, his eyes never leaving your face. You can feel the weight of his gaze, and it only makes you more aware of your own feelings. But you don’t let it distract you. You finish bandaging his hands and move to check for any other injuries, your fingers brushing against his skin, meanwhile, he gently caresses your thighs with his thumbs leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

When you’re done, you lean back, surveying your work. He looks a bit better now, though still battered and bruised. You meet his eyes again, and this time there’s something different there. Something softer, more vulnerable — a golden hue reflects the dim light, adding a warm, almost ethereal quality to the sun.

“There all done,” you say quietly, unable to trust your voice to say more. You stand up, as you don't want to leave his embrace but you have to clean up the supplies scattered around and prepare a bath. As you move around the room to get him new clothes you can feel his eyes on you, following your every move. You wonder if he’s thinking about the kiss, about what it meant. You wonder if he feels the same confusion, the same longing, the same love.

ENDO YAMATO

The wind lifting strands of his dark hair and whipping them around his face. He’s talking about something, his tattooed hands tracing patterns in the air. But you’re not listening. You’re caught up in the way his lips move, the curve of his smile, the glimmering in his eyes.

"...and Takiishi was there, you know? Doing that thing he always does," Endo continues, oblivious to your silent longing. Takiishi Chika. Again. You frown, a little annoyed now. Why does he always have to bring up Chika?

"Endo," you say, softly at first, hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t notice.

"Takiishi’s just so unpredictable. I never know what he’s going to do next."

"Endo," you repeat, louder this time. Still, he’s lost in his own world, his words tumbling out like the wind itself, unstoppable and carefree.

"And then, Takiishi—"

"Endo!" You say it sharply, frustration bubbling up inside you. He finally pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, before he can say anything, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him down to your height. His eyes widen in shock, but you don’t give him time to react. You press your lips to his, silencing him in the most effective way you know.

Feeling his lips against yours, the taste of his breath mingling with your own. It’s not perfect. It’s rushed and a little clumsy, your noses bump awkwardly, and you can feel him tense. But it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s better than any dream.

When you finally pull away, he’s staring at you, confusing and amusing gaze. His hands, still raised from his gesticulations, hover in the air, uncertain.

"Ah," he says, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not good at judging people, am I?" You laugh, knowing how he chooses people and how his expectations are later contradicted, that right now is happening with you, "No," you agree, your voice soft. "You’re really not."

He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I guess I was talking too much."

"A little," you admit, your heart still racing. "But it’s okay."

He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours, indicating his motives. "Can I try again?" he asks, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Please."

This time, when he kisses you, it’s slower, more deliberate. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as you live your dream.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[selarina]

continuation to this

so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.

it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.

"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.

and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.

aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.

"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.

there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.

before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.

as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?

you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.

but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.

he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"

"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.

"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"

he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.

"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"

"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."

"your father—"

"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"

he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.

aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"

"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.

"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.

"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"

"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.

"nanami kento. is he rich?"

"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.

"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.

"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."

-

it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.

there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.

but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.

but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—

he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.

but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.

"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."

"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.

his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.

"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."

"excuse me? you can't just—"

"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"

"do it."

his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.

"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."

you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.

"okay," you say. " please, get up now."

"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."

"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."

"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.

"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"

and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.

"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."

you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."

he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."

"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.

"what?"

"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."

his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."

"well, you said anything."

he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.

"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.

[auroreliis]

what if reader had k*lled someone before and the batfam (yandere) dis not know like «I dont need your damn protection» reader said to the batfam «but the world is so dangerous out there and your just a baby» the batfam said to reader « B!TCH I have k*lled someone the f you mean im a baby?!?» the batfam with horrified expresion «WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!»

That last little part is a funny little over dramatic way it might go.

Oh, you are COOKED. (Do pardon my use of brainrot language...)

CW: mentions of murder...obviously

The first thing they do is isolate you in a room and keep you there for a while until they figure out what to do with you (and so you can think about what you've done).

What happens next? Therapy sessions, which they all agreed on.

Don't worry, you will tell them everything, specifically Bruce, since he's the one carrying out the therapy sessions.

"Why did you kill that person?"

"How do you feel about it now?"

"Do you regret it?"

"How do you feel after our conversation?"

He pities the person you ended up killing and feels a little disappointed. A life was taken by you, an innocent person's life. He didn't raise you like this, did he...?

However, he also pities you. Unless you are trained to kill someone, it breaks you. He's seen it so many times, people commiting murders and then panicking, breaking down, because they couldn't live with the consequences of their actions.

You're a mere civilian, how could you ever have been exposed to that kind of environment? How could he let this happen? No, it is his fault for waiting so long before saving you from the world. He will teach you why it's wrong. He will make sure you heal and never take another life again. After all, it is his job as your father to guide you in life.

That's right, the only reason you could've done it is because you didn't know any better. You are a mere child in this old, cruel world, after all.

In the end, he holds himself accountable. He should've done better. He should've protected you better from the cruel world you live in.

Dick would be shocked. His little birdie, his angel, killed someone? Impossible. You're so innocent, like a baby, so how could this be true? He would take some time off to come to terms with the fact that you're not the kind of person he expected. When he comes back, after a week, he seems slightly distant.

With time, following your therapy sessions, he will return to his normal, clingy, annoying self. However, you can't help but wonder why he was acting so weird that one week.

Despite the fact that he also kills people, Jason is incredibly suprised and disappointed after hearing that you killed someone. Unlike everyone else, he feels anger. You're so young, so innocent, you grew up in a place where murdering someone was not necessary, so why would you do it? He doesn't kill people because he wants to, he only does it because he needs to. But you didn't need to do it.

That's what upsets him most. You chose to do it. You willingly took a life.

Despite being so hurt, so broken, he still feels an ounce hesitation when killing people, so how come you, someone who didn't go through what he did, could kill someone in a situation that wasn't even self-defense? Nothing could possibly justify it! And here you are, proudly announcing it to them. You should be ashamed.

He kills murderers, so what should he do with you? Does that make you as bad as the criminals he kills? God, he doesn't even want to think about it.

Jason won't get over it for at least a month. He'll be very distant around you and won't be seen smiling for a long time. Towards you exclusively, his behaviour becomes incredibly bitter. In fact, he's the one who most strongly encourages Bruce to carry out the long, grueling therapy sessions. He really thinks it'll do you good...

Tim's reaction would be more mild than expected. He would certainly feel uncomfortable with the fact that you seemingly feel not an ounce of guilt or regret. However, he wouldn't change his behaviour too much for too long.

During the first week, he'd be a bit more careful with his affection towards you. No, it's not because he's scared. He simply wants to observe you and see how effective the therapy sessions are. If he feels that your attitude towards murder hasn't changed, he would encourage Bruce to be more intense during the therapy sessions.

He would be more careful with the activities he offers you, since Bruce called a meeting with everyone to establish more rules, those being directed at Tim mostly. Tim's "cool, lenient older brother"-act needs to change.

From now on, no crime films or shows (especially not any violent ones), no crime documentaries, no crime or detective books, no vular language, no threats towards anyone or anything and for at least 14 months, no leaving the manor.

This change will probably be permanent.

[incdia]

aen, yea. good dad, hes like me

ddnt bite it back, but do bite. wont bite rat, they good. will bite bad people. not alloowed bite nice people

cant talk, but tried. can make noises. growl at him sometimes, he stares more

Dragon dad?

It... bit you? And you bit it back? You might want to see a doctor and make sure you don't get an infection, Chirsk.

Hmm... Brothers being noisy seems to be one of those universal constants, whether they're related to us or not. We may need to conduct some more research here, and uncover the true secret of what makes brothers in particular so loud.

I don't think anyone likes being stared at, so it's understandable that he'd make you uncomfortable. Have you asked him to stop staring?

[yazzwrites6962]

Chaos and Cure ♡ Jinx (Arcane)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Arcane Jinx x GN!Handy!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! This could be interpreted as a platonic relationship, or the buildup to something romantic. It's up to you! I do not own any characters/images!

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You are a quiet, handy, hardworking Zaunite who is used to fixing up broken tech and gadgets. Your life changes completely when, one day, the infamous Jinx storms into your shop.

Word Count: 1137

Warnings: Mild mentions of exlopsives and destruction, mentions of trauma

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The first time you met her, it was quiet. Not in the literal sense, of course. Nothing about Jinx is quiet. You were in your workshop, huddled over a broken panel from some long-abandoned tech. Suddenly, the door slammed open like a gunshot.

You didn't flinch. Not because you were brave, but because you had grown used to Zaun's chaos crashing into your life uninvited. That's just how things were. However, the girl who stormed in wasn't just disorderly. She was the embodiment of madness.

Bright blue hair, wild eyes, and a grin that sat crookedly on her face. You recognize her instantly. She's Jinx. Her reputation is infamous, but nothing prepares you for how real she feels. How alive she truly is. Your mind goes silent for a moment.

"Hey gearhead, fix this!" She chirps, dropping something metal and smoking onto your worktable. The piece clatters, nearly knocking your tools to the ground.

"What is it?" You know better than to expect any sort of formal introduction, although the nickname surprises you. You also know that Jinx is mechanically brilliant. At least, from what you hear. You wonder why she can't fix the gadget herself.

"it's supposed to be a trigger mechanism." She crosses her arms, unamused by your hesitation. "It caught slightly on fire. Don't worry. It'll probably only explode if you're really bad at this."

You blink, picking up the damaged device with careful, gloved hands. The metal is warm and warped. There is a faint smell of smoke lingering in the air. You examine it thoroughly, turning it over and over in your hands.

"You overloaded it." You mutter, glancing up at her. She tilts her head, giving you an almost offended expression, like a curious crow staring at a shiny stone.

"Overloaded?!" She scoffed. "No, I improved it! Just... too much..." You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Relax, gearhead. I'm a genius! I just need someone to keep up. That's where you come in."

"Give me an hour." You smile at her dramatics before turning back to the device. "It's not unsalvageable." She raises an eyebrow; a sharp and disapproving look on her face.

"An hour? Are you that slow? I heard you were supposed good at this." So, she had heard of you from somewhere. Her tone is a bit rude, but it doesn't seem to carry any real malice.

"Do you want it fixed, or do you want it fast?" You reply without missing a beat. Her laughter bounces off the walls of your dainty little shop.

"Alright, gearhead. An hour." She chuckles, headed for the door. "Don't blow up!" You don't dignify that with a response. You're already focused on disassembling the smoking pieces of the device.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Jinx returned an hour later, and then she never really left.

It started small. More gadgets needing repair and weapons she swore shouldn't be jamming. You wonder, at first, why someone like her would come to you. Surely, she could handle all these simple repairs herself. Yet, she keeps showing up, slamming the door like she owns the place and sprawling across your workshop like a cat who refuses to leave.

Her presence is overwhelming. She chatters while you work, her voice filling every quiet corner of your shop. Sometimes, she even sings. Once, she threw a wrench at you to see if you would have any reaction.

"You're so weird." She told you one day, hanging upside down from the pipe which ran across your ceiling. "You're not really scared of me. Most people are. They treat me like a ticking bomb that could go off at any second."

"I know." You mutter without looking up from your work. You feel so opposite to her. She's loud, vibrant, and always moving. You, on the other hand, are quiet. You own a little shop on the edge of Zaun, living out your days monotonously.

"Why?" She swings back and forth, like a pendulum, watching your gentle movements with her electric eyes. "Why are you not all freaked out about me?"

"I think..." You pause, considering how you want to word your thoughts. "I think you're smarter than most people give you credit for. You're a genius, Jinx. Just like you say. Sure, maybe you're a little reckless sometimes, but I've seen the things you bring me. The things you make. I doubt most people can dream up designs like yours."

She is silent. For the first time since you met the girl, there is a long stretch of silence between you two. You look up from your work, worried. You see something shift in her expression, like a crack in a mask you didn't know she was wearing. She looks vulnerable. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"You like me." She smirks, pointing a finger at you as if she were accusing you of something. "You think I'm pretty and smart and you like me."

"I think you need to be more careful." You chuckle, returning to the gadget you were repairing. "Someday you may end up blowing yourself up, along with everything else."

"Maybe that's the point." She mutters under her breath, so softly that you almost don't hear it, but you do. You choose not to say anything for the meantime, turning back to your work as silence once again stretches between you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Over time, you became her calm. You don't know when it happened, or why. Jinx storms in and out of your life like a hurricane. Yet, you are fond of those rare, quiet moments when you get to see glimpses of something softer. Something she doesn't show to anyone else.

One night, she sits on the floor of your workshop, surrounded by blueprints and half-finished creations. For once, you have nothing to do but keep her company. You watch her tinker with a clockwork bomb, trusting that she won't blow you both to pieces.

"You really think I'm smart?" She asks suddenly. You take a deep breath in, leaning back in your uncomfortable wooden chair.

"I do. Of course I do. I wouldn't lie about that. I wouldn't lie to you at all, Jinx." You say calmly. She doesn't respond right away. Instead, she picks at a smear of grease on her palm. Her expression is impossible to read.

"Everyone else thinks I'm just crazy." She whispers, looking up at you. There's no teasing in her eyes. No crooked grin. She doesn't feel like an insane criminal. Just a girl who doesn't know how to take a compliment. "You're weird."

"And you're a genius. Don't forget that." You smile. She says nothing else, but you can see the soft smile on her lips. The real smile. You wish you could stay that moment, where the chaos feels a little quieter.

[twistedmir]

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE !

⇀ summary : your partner talks too much, and what better way to make them shut up by kissing them?. (Malleus, Ace, Riddle, Vil.)

⇀ write's note : i have a favorite and its showing.

MALLEUS DRACONIA !

This man, it has already been two hours since he started talking about gargoyles. On any other day, you wouldn't have minded his rambling. But today you were particularly exhausted from babysitting the ADeuce duo, so you could only bear so much.

“ they were originally created as a means of disposing of water, but with time..—” there he goes again, this cute little dragon fae ranting about some random fact about gargoyles. Your head was starting to hurt, you just wanted to cuddle him and let this awful day pass. Despite the growing headache, you didn't have the heart to cut him off.

However, a bulb light up in your head.

You grabbed the fae from his necktie earning a surprise noise from him. You brought him down to your level and kissed his lips. It was a light peck, but you lingered a little bit too long. “ can we go inside now? I want to cuddle? ” Malleus was frozen in place, his lips could still feel yours. He didn't know what to do so he simply nodded, letting you guide him toward the house, your hand in his. Humans were rather bold.

ACE TRAPPOLA !

It was during lunch, your boyfriend's neck was decorated with his housewarden's magic. Ace was complaining—yet again— about how ridiculous the rules are. (something about not eating leftovers that had a green sticker on top of the containers, he swears he didn't know it was someone's else.) His lips were pouting, arms crossed over his chest he looked so cute. Until he opened his mouth to complain this time about Deuce. You sighed, this man always finds something to complain about.

And there he goes again, talking his head off about sevens knows what. This man would not for the sake of it be quiet. You wished to eat in peace, maybe talk with your boyfriend. But he kept going on and on, it was starting to get on your nerve. You love the guy, but he talks too much. Finally, as if the sevens heard your pleas, Ace quieted down. A sigh of relief left you. At last, you could eat—

“ and then Deuce just—” And there we go again. A bulb light up, it'll be funny to see him match with the collar on his neck. Moving closer to Ace, the boy not noticing your approaching figure still going on about how much of an idiot the blueberry boy is (his words.) your hands cupped his cheeks, ceasing his chatter. You lightly pecked the soft lips, pulling away after a short time. The boy was stuck speechless, his mouth closing and opening like a fish, face as red as the Heartslabyul's warden. A chuckle slipped past you, how cute.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS !

In your defense, Ace payed you. He knew how soft the warden goes on you whenever a rule is broken by you. Which is why, the first year though it was better for you to paint the flowers in his place. Riddle was unaware it was Ace's turn—for the first time— so, imagine his surprise when he saw how wrongly you painted the roses. It wasn't such a deal, but it bothered him how dangerously close you were to falling from the ladder. Riddle walked up to you, keen on lecturing you all about safety. Until you wondered if his face can match his hair.

“ How many time have I told you to be careful? You know this ladder is not in the best shape, I wouldn't want you to match it's state. ” The housewarden was scolding you for being careless. While your eyes were focused on his, your mind was wandering somewhere else. Thinking back on Ace's words, you were curious just how far was Riddle lenient on you. A smirk formed in your face.

The Housewarden wasn't aware of the Adeuce level of mischief stirring up in your mind. Closing the distance between you, relishing in the small stutters in his words, you placed your lips on his owns.

It was quiet. Maybe he did let you go with anything—

“ OFF WITH YOUR HEA—”. nevermind.

VIL SCHOENHEIT !

Vil was lecturing some first year about the proper use of skin care. The poor first years were so frightened by his harsh scold and cold voice that when they saw you they pleaded you with their eyes to help them escape from this hell. You took pity on them, Vil, even after his overbolt, still couldn't get rid of some of his habits. Mainly his harsh scolds, but he made progress. The first years looks frightened yet still listen to him. Before, some even cried while others were crushed by his words. So you saw this as a progress of some kind.

Walking up to them, you taped the beauty on his shoulder, making him cease his talk and turn to look at you. He quirked an eyebrow at you, his hands unconsciously finding yours. He was waiting for you to speak, you always taped him when you wanted to talk.

Your heart swell at his small yet meaningful gesture. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time for you. Even when he was scolding his juniors, you clearly saw how his eyes soften at the sight of you. (you made a mental note to pamper him later today in his room).

You signalled him to lean down, which he did despite the obvious confusion. Hands finding their place on his cheeks, cradling Vil's face. You laid your lips on top of his, eyes widening at you actions. The first years took this as a sign and quickly left.

After the initial shock, Vil grumpily returned your kiss. His clean hands pinching your cheeks. “ Honestly, just what am I going to do with you... ”. Even though he was complaining, you didn't miss the pinkish colour at the tip of his ears.

©— twistedmir. 2024 / DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARISE MY CONTENT IN ANY WAY.

[lesbojournals]

Hi Liz! I’ve just read your poly!marauders pregnancy fic and I love it! Your reading is stunning!

I’m here with a special request… I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x fem!reader where reader is acting weird and distant and the boys are worried and at the end she was hiding a huge secret, a pregnancy. She was scared they wouldn’t want a baby but they all ended up really happy about it? Just some slight angst with happy ending. ❤️

a/n: hi anon! i did put a little bit of my own twist to this, hope that's okay!

Poly!Marauders x Pregnant!Reader

It had only been two days. In fact, it was only the beginning of the second day. 

One full day and some hours since you found out you were pregnant.

One full day and some hours since you started ignoring your boys.

What else were you to do? It was a complete surprise. You'd never even discussed having a baby together, let alone if they even want children.

After taking your pregnancy test, you bolted out of your shared flat with no explanation, driving yourself to the beach so you could have a long cry.

Each boy texted you separately and called you separately, various times. You ignored every call.

I'll be home soon. Staying at my parents for the night. is what you texted in your shared chat. 

You weren't lying…yet. Just withholding information.

As you had driven up to your parents house you felt the tears all ready to burst. The shocked look on your mom’s face when you were at the door was enough for her to bring you in and comfort whatever you were going through. You had told her your secret, and she admitted the boys reached out to her in concern. You fell asleep on your parents’ couch in distress.

One day and a few hours is when you woke up. You scrolled through your phone. Missed texts from Remus, missed calls from Sirius, voicemails from James. 

“You're going to have to tell them, you know.” Your mom entered the living room with a cup of tea for you. 

You gratefully took it and sat up, shaking your head. Your hand went to your stomach without thinking. 

“I know,” You said, starting to feel worked up again. “I know.”

It was an hour or so later of your mom giving you the confidence to tell your boyfriends that led you to dial Remus’ number. 

“Honey?! Oh, my love, are you okay?!”

“Is that her??”

“Give me the phone!!”

The voices of your boyfriends rang through the speaker, and you sighed with a shaky voice. 

“Can you guys meet me at the beach? We need to talk.”

It was James that broke the silence that took place after you spoke. 

“Yea, of course darling. Be there in 10?”

You felt tears dripping down your face. “Mm-hm. Love you. Bye.”

Three “Love you”s chorused through the phone. You hung up quickly and held your face in your hands as you cried. Your mom rubbed your back encouragingly.

“Love, it'll go okay. And if it doesn't I'll be right here for you.”

That brought you to arriving at the beach. Your mom drove you because of how emotionally distressed you were, not being able to control your tears. 

You saw James’ car in the lot and took a deep breath as you rubbed your eyes. 

“You got this sweet pea.” Your mom gave you a shoulder squeeze.

You hesitantly exited the car and watched as the boys did the same. 

They looked broken. Remus was unusually dressed in sweats and one of Sirius’ shirts and looked like he hadn't slept. James eyes were bloodshot and cheeks pink. Sirius, on the other hand, had a dangerous look on his face, borderline between looking like he'd scream or cry.

“Where have you been?!” He came off intimidating, eyes glossy. You flinched at his tone, leading Remus to step in front of him.

He grabbed your hands. “Dovey, why did you leave?”

You looked up at his hazel eyes, noticing James holding Sirius in a side hug behind Remus. 

“I…I…” Your voice cracked and you felt hot tears slide down your cheeks. 

Remus rubbed your hands gently with his thumbs. 

You let out a desperate cry and looked down at the ground. “I'm pregnant. I’m keeping it.”

With that Remus let go of your hands, and you felt your world collapse. You started to cry harder, about to bring your arms around your body to hug yourself before a body slammed into yours, grasping you tightly.

“Oh, love…” Sirius spoke into your neck. 

You looked up in shock at James and Remus, both looking utterly surprised. 

James stuttered as he spoke. “I, you, we are going to have a baby?”

“You guys are staying with me?” You asked, uncertain.

Sirius whipped from the crook of your neck to grab your face with both of his hands. 

“Is that what you thought dolly? That we wouldn't stay with you!!” He almost seemed hysteric at the thought.

You shrugged. 

“Oh sweetheart…” Remus spoke quiet. 

Before you knew it Remus and James both joined you in your hug, holding onto you tightly.

James was the one who broke it apart. “I just, I can't believe it.”

He grabbed your shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “We’re going to be parents!!”

You blinked and James had you up in the air, swinging you around in a circle as Remus fretted and Sirius laughed. “We’re gonna be parents!!!”

[lynnaredfield3383]

Not my characters. Aged up 18 (3rd Years). Swearing, biting, kissing (all PG), but still warning you. Fem reader. Reader 'playfully' punches a few characters in the shoulder. You can fight me, but I think Shoto retained a lot of his sweet innocence even after the war.

Shoto, Bakugo, Denki and Kiri were all in the common room area wearing their Halloween costumes when you and Mina stepped off the elevator, bumping into Deku. The guys noticed your fairy costume before anything else. The amount of skin showing not your normal style.

Right away Denki's perverted brain began plotting and he smiled at Todoroki.

"Hey Roki, I dare you to go over and bite Y/N,” Kaminari said.

“Why would I do that?” Shoto asked.

“What the hell dunce face?” Bakugo snapped at him.

“Because you're a vampire. Also Halloween is for pranks.”

"I'm not a real vampire," Shoto cocked his head to the side wondering if Denki had shorted out somehow.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Kiri rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh come on you guys. Y/N has a thing for vampires. Remember she told us last week?" Denki reminded him.

“Yeah, but...”

"I'm not a real vampire," Shoto interrupted Kiri.

“Roki, the point of a prank is to laugh. It'll be funny because you're NOT a real vampire. Y/N will probably laugh," Denki urged him.

Shoto shrugged and headed towards you. Bakugo's expression murderous as he punched Denki's shoulder hard.

“I don't see this ending well,” Kiri spoke nervously.

“You're an idiot dunce face,” Bakugo grumbled.

“Yeah and so are you. You've liked her for how long and never made a single attempt,” Denki snapped back, dodging a second punch.

Mina and Deku noticed Shoto moving up behind you as they talked excitedly about everyone's costumes. Mina and Deku didn't warn you because they figured Shoto would give you a jump scare. Nothing too serious for a Halloween prank.

In one swift motion, Shoto cupped one side of your neck with his hand from behind while leaning in and quickly biting the other side of your neck. You gasped and turned red in surprise at the sudden sensation from the bite.

You smiled when you saw it was Shoto, but held your neck knowing he didn't realize how hard he'd actually bitten you. Thankfully he'd taken out his fake vampire teeth or he'd have broken skin.

“What're you doing?" Deku cried out surprised by his friend's actions.

“Denki says Halloween is a night for pranks...He also said you'd laugh because you like vampires,” Shoto spoke in his innocent way.

You smiled, unable to be angry with Shoto. Denki however was going to get beat later. Touching the spot where Shoto bit was sore so you moved your hand. That's when Shoto saw the red spot wasn't going away.

“Y/N...Did...Did I hurt you? It is turning into a bruise, I didn't mean...” “It's fine, Shoto. It was a fun experience so don't worry about it okay,” you reassured him by taking his hand in yours and squeezing it.

“Is there...Should I go get some ointment or maybe a band-aid?” Shoto asked worried.

“Well, you should kiss it,” Mina spoke first.

“Wha...What?” Deku asked surprised by Mina's suggestion.

“Well, it's a boo boo right? And you kiss boo boo's,” Mina explained.

Without hesitation, Shoto cupped the side of your neck without the mark and leaned in kissing where he'd bitten. When he pulled back, you saw the concern in his eyes and nearly laughed. The poor thing was so concerned and innocent.

“Did that help? Does it feel better?” Shoto asked.

“Maybe one more,” you couldn't help yourself, now that you noticed Bakugo was clenching his fists at his side.

“Oh...Okay,” Shoto agreed, kissing the spot again.

"I'll be right back," you said before walking towards Denki.

Mina and Deku followed wanting to see what you did in retaliation. Shoto followed them mostly out of habit.

Bakugo relaxed when he saw you heading their way. You stopped in front of Denki, the blond freezing up.

“Hey, hey, it was all in fun. I didn't seriously think he'd do it,” Denki defended himself.

“I tried to stop him,” Kiri chimed in.

You hit Denki hard in the arm, causing him to hold it, nearly crying.

“Ow, ow, ow, you didn't have to be so mean,” Denki whined, rubbing the spot, then stopping because it made it worse.

You hit Bakugo next and harder than you hit Denki, setting him off.

“What the HELL did I do? Jeez,” Bakugo shouted.

“You didn't try to stop him.”

Kiri flinched when you stepped in front of him and smiled.

“I wasn't very manly. I should have tried harder,” Kiri admitted.

You leaned over and kissed Kiri's cheek smiling at him and causing him to blush.

“But you tried. That was manly.”

You surprised Denki by hitting him in his other arm.

“Ow! Okay, okay. I'm sorry.”

"You should be. Don't use sweet, innocent Roki to play your nasty little pranks on," you warned Denki.

You joined Mina and Deku heading out to the party at the 3-B dorms.

Shoto turned to the three guys, his innocent expression slowly dissipating into something far more devious.

"Hey Bakugo. Y/N tastes pretty sweet," Shoto smiled before turning and walking away.

Kiri and Denki grabbed Bakugo as he lunged forward spewing curses out as he struggled.

**I really think Shoto remained that clueless, sweet boy even into his twenties. However, I like to think he also picked up a few devious/mischievous traits from Sero and Denki along the way.**

[lunarmothim]

safehouse - simon riley x reader.

You don't need to know how to read him to understand what you're seeing in his eyes, the dark edge of want that makes your breath catch in your throat. He must see it in yours too because he takes all of two seconds to roll his mask up to his nose, dipping his head to kiss you.

word count: 1.6k tags/warnings: smut my dudes. barely foreplay, just a quick crack of the pressure valve. afab reader. piv, brief oral (m receiving).

The safehouse is quiet. Dark and cold, the air conditioning unexpected after the wet, swampy humidity of the air outside. You won't complain, anywhere to lay your head and all. It's better than nothing.

"Exfil is twelve hours out," Ghost tells you, his voice a low growl as he drops his pack on the threadbare couch.

"Okay," you reply simply, dropping your own pack on the tiny kitchen island, digging out a couple of MREs. You toss one to him before hopping up to sit on the counter, ripping the package open with your teeth. Your canteen thuds onto the laminate beside you, half-empty. The first bite of the meal- chicken and dumplings, you think- is about as awful as you'd expected, and you can't help but make a face. You'll eat it anyway, but you won't enjoy it. You wonder what you'd given him.

Your eyes track over him, searching for injuries now that you have half a second to breathe. "You broken?"

"Solid," he answers, dropping onto the couch next to his pack. He doesn't look up at you, entirely focused on the brown packaging of the MRE you'd thrown his way. "You?"

"Solid," you echo, taking another bite. You hadn't been so sure there for a minute- things had gone tits up not long after you'd landed, your stealth infil clearly not as stealthy as you'd planned for. But you'd come out of it in one piece, mostly. Surprisingly. "They knew we were coming."

"They did." The empty package crackles slightly when he crumples it in one fist, eyes searching the room for a trash can. You almost envy him for the way he can inhale an MRE, like the taste of them doesn't bother him. "Problem for another day. We'll get outta here, regroup. Go from there."

"Hate this." You can't help the way your voice cracks slightly on the words, looking down into the package still in your hands. You don't feel so hungry anymore. "Konni always seems to be one step ahead of us. Like they're mockin' us."

"They are." Ghost says it so simply it makes you feel sick. You reach behind you to drop your MRE packet into the sink, unable to stomach it anymore. You hear his body shift, the creak of the floorboards followed by heavy footsteps, purposefully loud. He stops in front of you, and you inhale sharply when his gloved knuckles nudge under your jaw, tipping your head back until you meet his eyes. "We'll get 'em anyway."

"You sound so sure about that," you breathe, staring up at him. His eyes are dark, unreadable. As someone who wears your heart on your sleeve, you almost envy that about him. His ability to keep it close, to compartmentalize. "We haven't yet."

"But we will." His hand shifts, fingers curling around your jaw. His hold is loose, his eyes boring into yours. Calm. Sure. He sighs, and your eyes close when he tilts forward, resting his forehead against yours. It's the last thing you're expecting, but it feels nice. "We have to. Too much at stake if we don't."

"I know." Your hand curls around his wrist, fingers shaking. It's as close as either of you can get to a promise that everything will be okay.

You stay there like that for a long minute, just breathing each other in. Quiet reassurance. It's not enough, but it'll do for now.

He murmurs your name under his breath, fingers flexing around your jaw, and you open your eyes to meet his. He's staring right back at you, so close you can't tell if it's your heartbeat or his you can hear pounding in your ears. The edge of his skull plate digs into your forehead, indenting the bridge of your nose.

You don't need to know how to read him to understand what you're seeing in his eyes, the dark edge of want that makes your breath catch in your throat. He must see it in yours too because he takes all of two seconds to roll his mask up to his nose, dipping his head to kiss you.

He clearly didn't think it through, though, the skull sewn to the balaclava bumping awkwardly into your nose.

"Fuckin' hell," he mutters, voice a low growl of annoyance that has you giggling. He reaches up, ripping the mask off his head without a second thought before coming back in to kiss you again. You don't expect it, but he doesn't give you a chance to think about it- not when he's singularly focused on yanking your tac pants down your legs, leaving them dangling around one ankle. Your left boot is gone, chucked somewhere across the room, and you can't help a gasp when he practically scruffs you, keeping your head exactly where he wants it while he devours your mouth.

If it's meant to distract you from his hand between your thighs he's not doing a very good job. You're very focused on his fingers, the perfunctory way they drag through slick folds, the barest hint of his thumb teasing against your clit. It's a promise of exactly what this is going to be- something quick and rough, a pressure valve in desperate need of cracking, driven by adrenaline and pent up energy. He's not going to take his time with you, he's not going to build you up and drag you over the edge, you might get one orgasm out of this if you're lucky. It's fine is a surprising thought to have, but you need this just as badly as he does, if you're honest, and if quick and dirty is all he's gonna give you, you'll take it without complaint.

You groan into his mouth, low and filthy, when his first finger slides in to the first knuckle, bucking into his hand. The second has you keening, thick and scissoring you apart in a way that has you wondering just what it is he's packing- it's still not much but it's more preparation than you're used to, thick digits working you open. He grunts at the sting of your teeth sinking into his neck, fingers crooking in a way that has your eyes rolling back, the fingers of his free hand tattooing his prints into your hip.

"That's it," he hisses into your throat, dragging a soft gasp out of you when he pulls his hand away, lining himself up at your entrance. His fingers press wet into your thigh, slick with your arousal, and you choke at the first prod of him, thick and hard and endless. "Good girl, good fuckin' girl-"

When he bottoms out you're sure you've died. That's the only explanation for how you feel right now, split open and so fuckin' full. He's pressed so deep you feel him in your throat, the vibrato of his voice rumbling against your shoulder when you drag your nails down his back. You're not entirely sure God is real but you pray to Her all the same when Ghost draws back and punches right back into you so hard it hurts.

"Fuck," you choke out, voice raw and broken, clutching at him like he's your only lifeline. He groans when your nails dig bloody crescents into his shoulders, a noise you swallow greedily when he finds your mouth again, the taste of tobacco and the MRE heavy on his tongue. You suck his lower lip between your teeth and revel in the way blunted fingernails bite into your ass cheek, dragging you closer. You think you hear the sound of the radio in the background, someone checking in, but you can't bring yourself to care right now, not when Ghost is splitting you in half around him.

"Not gonna last," he growls into your mouth, dragging a raw cry out of you when he drives into your cervix, painful and bruising. His hips stutter when you clench around him in response. "Fuck. Fuck, you feel so fuckin' good-"

"Gonna come for me?" you croak it out between ragged breaths, ruined by the way your voice pitches up. He shudders all the same. Your nails bite into his neck, digging in to the arc of your teeth impressed into his skin. Your eyes meet his, holding his half-lidded gaze, pupils blown wide. "C'mon, want you to come-"

You've barely tipped over yourself before he's ripping away from you. You can't help a startled yelp when he suddenly yanks you down off the counter, your knees slamming into the floor with enough force to bruise. He's quick to silence you with his cock- he doesn't seem to care much when you gag around him, burying himself to release down your throat.

Your palms hit the floor when he releases you, sucking in a ragged breath. You can still taste him, thick and salty, can feel the weight of him on your tongue. You look up at him, hazy through the sheen of tears in your eyes, and the way you see him looking back at you… fuck, you're not expecting that, his vulnerability on full display across his exposed face. Dark eyes peer down into yours, his mouth stretched into a thin line. Every scar is on display, the nose you've imagined buried between your thighs as crooked as you'd expected.

You want more. Fuck, you want more.

You know you won't get it. Not when the radio crackles again and he steps back, the metaphorical mask already back in place even while the physical one still sits on the counter behind you. This had been a one-off, pressure relief.

And you'll just have to be okay with that.

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune line divider by @/gildui

[syluslnd]

Just read House Of Cards and it got me good ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽ aksbsjsanoaksdjsnkasjian– *dead*

Anyways, can you make the continuation of that story?

(Tired of me being delusional so now it's his turn for him to be the one who is delusional)

From what I read, Sylus always in denial when his men sent every piece of her until the last moment he snapped. What if he goes back into being delusional then? That MC is still in bed with him. Or going to the arcade with her (clearly he go there alone because MC is ☠️)

How people inside there giving him a weird look because they see some disheveled man talking about he would buy the entire arcade (in the game. Canon.) for his beloved.

Thank you!! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

pt 2 to this story

house of cards;shattered

(note-It makes me so happy you liked it so much that you needed a continuation🥹thank YOU & I hope you really like this, kisses xx)

────୨ৎ────

The days following the discovery of your body were a blur for Sylus. The once-cold and calculating leader of Onychinus was unraveling at the seams, haunted by a rage so consuming that it drowned out everything else.

The names of the men responsible for your death, those who dared to touch what was his, had been whispered to him by his remaining loyalists like and kieran,sylus wasted no time tracking them down.

He wanted them alive. He wanted them to feel pain-slow, excruciating pain, the kind that would make them beg for death long before he was willing to grant them that mercy.

The first man was found in a decrepit building, hidden away like a rat. Sylus didn't speak as he dragged the man into the basement of one of Onychinus's many safehouses. There was no need for words.

He was beyond talking. His mind buzzed with one singular thought: revenge.

The man was tied to a chair, blood already trickling down his face from where Sylus had struck him. Sylus circled him slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. The cold gleam of his knife reflected in the faint light and the man whimpered, begging for mercy.

"I wonder” Sylus muttered under his breath, his voice low "how long it'll take for you to break."

With a quick flick of his wrist, he slashed the man's arm, drawing a deep line across the skin. Blood welled up instantly, dripping to the floor in steady, rhythmic beats. The man screamed but Sylus barely heard it. His eyes were cold, unfeeling, even as the man squirmed in his restraints.

One cut turned into two. Two turned into ten.

Sylus worked methodically, slicing deeper each time, his hand steady, his mind eerily calm. He didn't rush. He savored each scream, each pathetic whimper. The man's blood coated Sylus's hands but he didn't care. He wasn't thinking about anything but the pain he wanted to inflict. Pain for pain.

Blood for blood.

He broke the man's fingers, one by one, relishing the sickening snap of bone beneath his grip. The man's pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. Sylus didn't stop. He wouldn't stop until every single one of them paid for what they had done to you.

By the time the man finally succumbed to the pain, falling limp in the chair, Sylus had carved his face beyond recognition. Blood pooled at Sylus's feet, staining the floor. He stood there, panting heavily, his body covered in the man's blood, his chest heaving. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

The second man suffered a worse fate. Sylus had perfected his technique by then. He used a blowtorch, searing the flesh from the man's arms and legs, watching as the skin blistered and peeled. The smell of burning flesh filled the room but Sylus didn't flinch.

His expression remained cold, detached, as if he were performing a routine task rather than torturing a man to death.

The man screamed so loudly that Sylus had to gag him but it didn't make a difference.

The man's eyes told him everything. He was terrified. Broken. A shell of what he had once been. Sylus took his time, dragging out the agony for hours, refusing to let the man pass out. When the man's legs were charred beyond repair, Sylus ended him with a single, swift cut to the throat.

But it still wasn't enough.

Each time he killed one of them, Sylus felt a strange emptiness settle over him. He had thought that their deaths would bring him peace. That they would give him closure. But all he felt was a gnawing, festering wound inside him—a hollow void that no amount of bloodshed could fill.

The final man was the one who had sent the message, the one who had orchestrated the whole thing. Sylus saved him for last. This time, he wasn't quick about it. He made sure the man felt every second of pain.

Sylus shattered his kneecaps with a crowbar, slowly, deliberately. The man writhed, trying to crawl away, but there was nowhere to go.

Sylus grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look up.

"You think you've won?" Sylus hissed, his voice shaking with fury. "You think taking her from me made you powerful?"

The man spat blood, laughing through the pain. "She...was just...a toy..to you..."

The words hit harder than any physical blow could. Sylus's vision blurred with rage. He drove the crowbar into the man's ribs, one after another, each crack echoing in the cold room. The man choked on his own blood, gasping for breath but Sylus didn't stop. He kept hitting. Kept swinging. Until the man was nothing but a bloody, broken mess on the floor.

Finally, when the last man was dead, Sylus stood over the carnage, his breathing ragged. His hands, arms, even his face were stained with blood. But as he stared at the bodies, at the destruction he had wrought, something inside him cracked.

He had avenged you. He had made them suffer. But why did it feel so... hollow?

Then, something strange happened. A thought—no, a delusion-began to take root in his mind. You weren't really gone. You couldn't be. You were too strong for that.

Too stubborn. This had all been some elaborate trick, a twisted game to test him.

That was it. You had never been dead.

He just... needed to find you.

The next day, Sylus was smiling, genuinely smiling for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He was covered in dried blood but that didn't bother him. None of that mattered. What mattered was that he was going to see you.

He walked through the streets of Onychinus with a spring in his step, ignoring the wide-eyed stares and gasps from the people around him. The blood that clung to his clothes and skin was irrelevant. He was happy. He was going to take you out, like you had wanted. You were waiting for him. You always waited for him.

Sylus reached the arcade, stepping through the entrance with a grin. The bright lights and sounds surrounded him but all he saw was you, standing at the claw machine. You were there. Of course, you were there. You'd always be there.

"There you are, kitten" he said, his voice soft, almost tender. "I told you l'd be back."

But the arcade had fallen into a stunned silence. People stopped in their tracks, staring in shock and horror at the blood-covered man standing in the center of the room, talking to... no one.

Sylus didn't notice. He walked toward the claw machine, where he could see you in his mind, laughing at your failed attempts. "Let me help you this time" he chuckled, reaching out as if to guide your hand but his fingers grasped only air.

A child whispered to their mother, "Mommy, why is he talking to himself?"

The mother pulled the child closer, her face pale as she hurried them out of the arcade.

More people began to leave, their eyes darting to Sylus in fear but he remained oblivious, lost in his own delusion.

He leaned against the claw machine, his bloodstained hand leaving a smear on the glass. "You always get so worked up over these games, sweetie" he teased, his voice dripping with affection. "But I always knew you could win if you just had a little patience."

A man behind the counter fumbled with his phone, clearly calling the authorities. His hands shook as he kept his distance, terrified of the blood-soaked maniac who was clearly not in his right mind.

Sylus's eyes sparkled with something close to joy. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?" he said, his tone playful. "I can't help it. I just missed you."

In his mind, you were there. Smiling.

Laughing. Perfect, as you had always been.

But the truth was a far darker reality. He was alone, talking to nothing but empty air, the ghost of your presence haunting his fractured mind and the onlookers could only watch, horrified, as Sylus-the feared, ruthless leader of Onychinus-spoke to someone who no longer existed.

The doors to the arcade opened and the authorities arrived. But Sylus didn't notice.

He was too busy laughing with you, too consumed by the fantasy he had created, a world where you were still alive, still with him.

In the end, the tragedy wasn't just that you were gone. It was that Sylus had lost his mind trying to keep you alive in his own twisted way.

and the reality, cold and unforgiving, was that nothing could bring you back.

[yukioos]

Hey kali 🎀🎀 wondering if you could do a sfw and nsfw alphabet for Wolverine

SFW ALPHABET

WARNINGS: mentions of logan getting into fights (not with you), alcohol, smoking, insecurity, not proofread

AUTHORS NOTE: logan howlett x reader // hi! sorry this took so long, and i probably won’t do an nsfw alphabet, sorry! i don’t feel comfortable writing nsfw and smut, only slightly suggestive hcs or oneshots. thank you for requesting! this is 2.0k words

a = affectionate (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

he’s very affectionate in private, his hands are always somewhere on your body. it’s different in public, though. he doesn’t show as much affection because he feels more intimate when it’s just the two of you alone. the most he’ll do in public is show affection by guiding you somewhere with a hand on your back, but he always stands near you. he just wants to keep you safe and have you in his eyesight. when it comes to food, he’ll show affection by sharing it although he at first says no.

b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

it'll take a while to get him to trust you and get close to you. he’s very weary of you at first but starts to form a relationship with you once he realizes you’re not a threat. he becomes very protective of you, and you find out he’s extremely loving, of course, a person who sees him randomly wouldn’t be able to see that. he doesn’t talk much, so he always listens closely to your words. the two of you met at the x-mansion, and became closer once ororo introduced you to each other.

c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

he loves to cuddle, it makes him feel so safe and secure with you. one thing he rarely does is lay on you, he’d love to but doesn’t want to crush you with his endoskeleton. he’s about 300 lbs, so he prefers for you to lay on him than reversed. he loves it when he wraps his arm around your back and you sorta lay on your stomach, and your arm is draped over his large chest. he will only cuddle in the privacy of your room or house, never in public where you’d be seen together. it’s not that he’s embarrassed, he just feels better when it’s you two and you two alone.

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he gets nervous when thinking about having children and a family with you. sometimes he believes he’ll mess up and become a terrible father, but you tell him otherwise. he feels like he could try the parent relationship after the reassurance. at first, he’s not the best at cooking, and he doesn’t think much of cleaning. he practices recipes in his free time so he can make food for you and himself, sometimes making them for your dates.

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if he had to break up with you, he’d probably do it if he thought he was endangering you. he loves you so much and would do anything to protect you, even if it meant leaving you. he’d break up with you quickly, not wanting to see your tears that he would most definitely want to wipe away.

f = fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? how quickly would they want to get married?)

he’d be open to getting married, but wouldn’t necessarily outwardly make hints to get married. of course, he would love to label you as his spouse instead of girlfriend/boyfriend, but is fine with not getting married. he’d probably leave that decision completely up to you, so if you wanted to marry at a designated time, he’d immediately say yes. if you give hints about wanting to become married then he’ll propose, though.

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he’s so gentle with you, as he has physically hurt people in the past. he doesn’t want to do that again, especially with his s/o, so he’s always treating you like you’re frail, and could be broken easily. although he knows you can take care of yourself, he’s always gentle and careful around you. emotionally, he’s sometimes awkward when you need comfort, however, he’ll always try his best to make you feel loved.

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

he doesn’t like hugging much, it’s just too close for comfort. he only hugs you when he’s trying to comfort you and he knows you need one, or if you got hurt or almost killed during a mission. when he does, they’re passionate and loving, and his large arms engulf you in his grasp. while he hugs you, he’ll rub your back in a comforting manner, just to ease your feelings.

i = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

logan falls in love easily, but he’s scared to say the l-word. there’s no doubt that he does love you, but bad things happen to people he loves. despite all that, he tells you he loves you after you’re in a dangerous situation. he realizes you could lose your life at any second, and he shouldn’t waste his time not verbally expressing his love for you.

j = jealous (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

he gets jealous often, but of course, it’s because of his insecurities. he thinks eventually you’ll leave and find someone better than him, as he doesn’t think of himself as a good person. he’ll put an arm around your waist and rub it gently, trying to get the other person he’s jealous of to back off. if they don’t understand his intentions, he’ll just voice it and tell them to leave.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

his kisses are so needy. most of the time they’re rough, because he’s pent up, but sometimes the kisses are soft and passionate, like you have all the time in the world. he’d kiss you everywhere, he likes to kiss you on the neck because he loves to hear the giggles from your mouth. he loves to be kissed on the cheek, he thinks it’s adorable how you gently grab his shoulders and place a soft kiss on his cheek.

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

he’s a professor at a school, so he’s great with children. he’s naturally hard on them because he cares about them, as shown with laura and rogue. kids love him, and especially at the school, see him as their guardian and overall protector.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mornings with logan are so slow and sweet. he almost always wakes up before you because he loves watching you slowly wake up. he’ll slowly wake you up by placing soft kisses on your body, and greeting you when you wake up. sometimes he’ll wake up earlier than you so he can make breakfast or exercise.

n = night (how are nights spent with them?)

he’s not comfortable falling asleep before you, it warms his heart to know that you’re safe and peaceful. he always gives you kisses before you sleep because he never knows if it’ll be the last time you wake up, and he loves you so much. he’ll slowly fall asleep as he holds you in his arms, reminded that you’re alive and breathing.

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he rarely opens up to you, and it takes a while for him to say anything about his past. he hardly trusts anyone else with the information, but trusts you with it. he knows you won’t tell anyone, he’s just nervous about telling someone in the first place. most of the time, he doesn’t say everything all at once, he takes a while to tell his full story.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

he gets angered easily, however he tries to put his temper aside while he’s with you. sometimes he’ll get annoyed with you if you accidentally get hurt, otherwise, he hardly feels annoyed with you.

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers so much about you! he’ll tease you about something you told him you did a couple of years ago because he loves seeing your flushed face. he always remembers your favorite plant, food, piece of clothing, favorite mug, etc.

r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

his favorite moment in your relationship is when he felt comfortable enough to cuddle with you. it was the first time he felt so safe, and he had you in his arms. he felt so warm and comfy, and he thinks about that moment whenever he’s away from you.

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

he’s overprotective of you, although he knows you can handle yourself. he won’t hesitate to hurt someone or unleash his claws if someone’s putting you in danger. he feels as if he doesn’t need to be protected, considering he has a healing factor and adamantium claws. he appreciates it when you fight others to protect him, but you both know he doesn’t need you to put yourself in danger just to save him.

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he tries to be nonchalant about it, but secretly puts so much effort into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and day-to-day activities. he wants you to know that he loves you with his whole heart, and it helps him know that he’s capable of loving and caring for others as well.

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he knows you hate it when he smokes. it’s unhealthy but doesn’t destroy his lungs, and the alcohol he consumes doesn’t destroy his liver. he hasn’t tried to stop but instead sees it as a coping method because it doesn’t hurt him.

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he’s not insecure about his looks at all. he knows how good he looks, and how he can pick up girls and guys without even sparing a glance at them. he prefers to keep a routine and stay fit though.

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

he’d feel so incomplete without you, like there is no other person he’d rather be with than you. your memory and words would scar him forever, and he’d live his whole life, watching people pass day after day, just missing you and your sweet face.

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them)

he loves to take you out on late-night rides, whether it’s on scott’s motorcycle or one of the cars. most of the time, it’ll be late at night when neither of you are able to sleep.

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he hates people who lie. he’d prefer his partner to say the most vile words known to mankind and mean it, rather than to say a single lie. he loves people who are sometimes too honest, but are only willing to lie if it keeps them safe. he would hate to have someone manipulate him again, considering his dark past and relationships with others.

z = zzz (what are their sleep habits?)

he doesn’t like to fall asleep before you, it always comforts him to know you’re safe. although he has bad nightmares, sometimes he’ll ‘accidentally’ make biscuits on the sheets or your stomach when he feels safe.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Copy that

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3

Prompts: Lingerie & Sneaking Around

Words: 1,273

Rated: E

Tags: Office AU; Janitor Eddie; Junior Boss Steve; Secret Relationship; Semi-public sex; Steve in lingerie; Groping; Manhandling; Dirty talk; Dry humping; Inappropriate treatment of office equipment

Notes: Set in the same universe as this one

Eddie can tell what kind of day it'll be the second he walks into the office. Chrissy looks up from the files she's organizing on the reception desk and smiles ruefully.

“Hey, Eddie,” she calls. “Good thing you're here. The copy machine on the second floor is broken.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans as he hands over her usual styrofoam cup of coffee. “It isn’t even nine yet and there’s another copier literally one floor above that. Did that not occur to those corporate dumbfucks?” 

She giggles and draws a breath to reply, but is interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing. 

“I bet that's Steve again,” she sighs.

Eddie’s stomach does a weird little flip. 

“Harrington Junior? I thought he was in New York this week.” 

She shrugs. “His conference got canceled. Listen, can you go check on this? I don't know why he needs those copies so urgently, but this is the fourth time he's called about it.”

As he steps into the elevator, Eddie wonders why he keeps putting up with this shit. He isn't being paid enough to deal with entitled tie-wearers who think the entire universe revolves around them. 

The second floor is still mostly empty, only a few miserable employees settling into their cubicles. At the sound of Eddie’s boots thudding closer, Steve steps out of the copying room, frowning and flushed pink with annoyance. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says. “I’m here now, aint’ I? No need to get your panties in a twist.” 

“Finally,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea for how long I’ve-”

Something twitches across Steve’s face, something that looks suspiciously like a smirk, but it’s gone as quick as it came as he grabs Eddie by the elbow to steer him into the copying room. 

While Steve clicks the door shut behind them, Eddie walks over to the copier. He peeps into the gap between the machine and the wall, sighs, and bends down to retrieve the pulled plug. 

“Seriously?” he asks. “Again? You need to start coming up with new excuses, because this is getting-” 

And that's as far as he gets before two large hands shove him against the machine and a warm, slick tongue pushes past his lips. Eddie hums a half-hearted protest and tries to pull out of the kiss, but Steve growls and grabs his face in both hands to hold him in place. The copier rattles as he wedges a leg between Eddie’s thighs. 

“Woah, princess,” Eddie gasps as those lips leave his mouth, blazing a hot trail down his jaw and throat. A look towards the door reveals three large cartons of paper stacked in front of it, but he doubts they'll withstand one or two hearty pushes. “Hold on. There's people out there, anyone could-”

“Better make it quick then,” Steve says, breath leaving warm puffs against the hollow of his throat. The seams of Eddie’s overalls groan dangerously as he yanks them off his shoulders. “If you'd have been here sooner, we wouldn't be in this situation. Now c’mon, or are you scared?” 

Eddie growls. Steve’s self-satisfied grin only serves to fuel his rage as he spins them both around and bends him over the copier. 

“I'll show you scared, you little brat,” he says, nudging Steve's legs apart and pinning his arms behind his back with one hand, the other opening his expensive leather belt with practiced motions. He bends and bites down at the base of that long neck, just long enough to feel Steve’s answering moan rattle in his own chest, then straightens back up and yanks Steve’s dress pants down in one violent motion. 

And then he freezes. 

Lace.

Steve Harrington's glorious ass is covered in shiny, delicate lace. It stretches over it in a pattern of pretty flowers and little hearts, golden skin and dark moles shining through the see-through fabric. 

It is red. 

Jesus Christ on a fucking motorbike. 

“What's the matter?” Steve asks. He's craning his neck to take in Eddie’s reaction, face unbearably smug and flushed as red as the lace of his panties. “You planning on doing something or are you just gonna stand there and catch flies?” 

“You might wanna get going soon,” Steve singsongs. “There’s people out there, y’know?” 

He rolls his hips, grinding his ass against the rapidly growing bulge in Eddie’s overalls. His pants slip further down as he does. There's garters. Red, lacy garters hugging thick, muscled thighs and Eddie is not going to survive, is he?

“Oh my God, you're such a slut,” Eddie mutters, and surges in. Steve moans again as he fists a hand into the hair at the base of his neck, pushing him face-first onto the copier. Eddie has a fleeting thought that it's simultaneously lucky and a pity that the thing isn't plugged in because man, those copies would be something to look at. 

“God, baby,” he growls, yanking Steve’s head up by the hair, forcing his back into an obscene arch. “You're gonna kill me one day, you know that?” 

“Hope not,” Steve gasps, fingers digging into the edge of the machine for dear life. Glass creaks and metal rattles as Eddie rocks his hips, grinding their bodies together. “I really like your cock.” 

Eddie laughs, the words igniting a firework of want low in his abdomen. Steve shivers under him as he blankets him with his weight, pressing him down against the hard surface of the machine so that he can whisper right into his ear. 

“Oh, yeah? That what you want, princess? Well, be my guest. I’m gonna stuff you so full, you’ll feel it all day. You gonna walk out of this room and back to your stupid meetings, and all you’ll be able to think of is how good it felt, getting fucked by me. How all you wanna do is go back and take my cock again, you greedy little-” 

“Steve? You in there? What is wrong with the door?” 

Steve is out from under him and on his way to the door before Eddie manages to fully process his shock. 

“Hold on a sec, Tommy! I think it’s stuck.” 

Steve smiles while he pulls up his pants and fixes his hair, like he has all the time in the world. Eddie is so busy bemoaning the loss of the panties and garters that it takes him a second to remember his own disheveled state. He has hardly shrugged back into his overall sleeves and pulled the zipper up when Steve shoves the boxes out of the way and Hagan from Sales stomps into the room, a stack of papers in hand and a scowl on his face. 

“Oh, sorry,” Steve says, full of genuine regret. “The copier’s broken. Eddie and I were just looking into it.” 

Steve shrugs exasperatedly. “I know, right? Looks like someone needs a refresher course on how to treat company property.” 

“Man, does anything in this company work?” Hagan grumbles, stalking past Eddie to flip open the lid of the machine. “Who the fuck did this? There’s cracks all over the place!”

Hagan groans, slamming the lid shut and turning back towards the door. “Whatever, I’m using the one upstairs. Oh, by the way, your dad wants you in his office. Something about New York?” 

“On it,” Steve calls after him. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

As he brushes past Eddie and out of the door, he shoots him a coy smile. “I guess we'll need to conclude this meeting later. Come to my office around lunch?” 

Eddie really, really isn't getting paid enough for this shit. Luckily, the job comes with other benefits. 

More smutty September

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii