#I can’t proofread this anymore as I really need to lie down

[asachuu]

I’ve got a headache and I’ve partially sworn to both myself and another person I wouldn’t go over this, but…it just won’t let me rest, so I’m sorry to anyone the apology is due. I open my other abandoned socials once in my life, and the first thing I see is debates on this I didn’t even think would be possible, and there’s only so many days I can just bite my tongue.

Refer to the tags of this post for more context if you wish, but I’ll make this separate instead of a reblog in case it may reach more people.

Spoilers for phase 18 of the Fifteen manga below.

So, ah…let me just get the extremely cheap joke out of the way. Heaven forbid the Literary Stray Dogs fandom has to be faced with…oh dear goodness…literature…

If you’ll excuse that, I truly don’t wish to be anyhow outwardly hostile, but I don’t know what would be more fitting to say. In my former vague-ish post (tags excluded), I did say I initially thought this was pointless to go over, but I see that it’s inevitable— so, before I leave my two cents on this, as an absolutely shameless self-plug, since I won’t be going over any deeper Rimlaine-related context in this post to an extent I’d like to properly explain and elaborate on, I’d redirect any curious soul stumbling upon this to my essay about the pair, which will explain a lot more as to why I find any of this worth my time and why I will speak of them in a rather uncharitable manner.

I believe the above is a self-explanatory warning as to the fact that despite talking about a certain panel from the Fifteen manga I’ve seen a rather questionable amount of people use as backing for their ship, I will be doing the absolute opposite, and if that’s not what you want to read or hear, I’d suggest leaving this post be. As much as I mostly try to come from a place of understanding, I don’t think you’ll find much of it in this post, both because I’m not feeling well at the moment and I’ve already explained my strongly held stance in softer terms before, linked above. As always, none of this is personally directed at anybody whatsoever, but that doesn’t mean that some simply wouldn’t want to read a slightly harsher analysis of what could perhaps be their comfort ship for any personal reason they may have, to which I say, I very much suggest not hate-reading this and clicking off, please always look after yourself.

So��while I was going to spare myself a longer post due to my physical state, you best believe me that I will do anything in my power to make it not hinder me, just so I can write this whole thing properly this time around. Without further ado, here is the panel/page I’ll be referring to from now on.

All translation credits go to DarkestJay868 on Twitter.

I think I have to start this off by saying that if this was a different story, a different situation, different inspiration and different characters to match, I would understand the fandom’s reaction. While I’m someone who’s far from shipping characters in most media I consume, I only have one OTP across everything I’d ever engaged with and can’t think of another ship I like from the top of my head, I do understand if people see two characters interact with each other in one way or another, perhaps one rather close way or another, and jump to shipping them for their personal use or just for the sake of it. Ultimately, there is absolutely no point in trying to go over why, because it harms absolutely no one, and these are all fictional characters anyway, it’s not as if we’re intruding on real people’s personal relationships doing any of this.

I also understand that not only is it a well-known fact that MLM ships are far more popular in fandoms than any other, but also, when two characters have a dialogue/thought process/etc. of the nature you can read above, it comes as no surprise that people would like to spin their own narrative on it, and I’d say that’s usually more than fine, go for it, have fun— except in this particular case, I’m astounded. Generally, at this point, I cannot tell whether Rimlaine is a ship born of the indomitable human spirit that won’t be swayed by quite deeply serious topics this pairing is outright created from and exists because of, or one that won’t falter even while not only explicitly written words, but also graphic depictions show exactly what scenario is being presented and it’s simply not the one so many in this community have imagined, but in the case of this scene, it would be downright nonsensical to claim that some form of active dedication is not being used to back the claims I’ve seen going around.

I will be providing no specific examples, as what they all boil down to in various different ways is speaking of the lower panel as some form of canonical confirmation of Arthur and Paul’s closeness, be it in a platonic or romantic way, and believe me when I say this— not a single part of my counterargument will have to do with the thought of one hand on a shoulder(?) meaning nothing, because trust me, in fandoms, I can’t say it’s not ordinary.

You see, out of any and all context, I’d find it amusing, but the simple fact of the matter is, this panel:

is not out of context,

is not canon, even,

has a very real chance of depicting a character’s imagination based on the very next panel, which is this:

And this is about the panel only— don’t worry, I will remind everyone the origins of Rimlaine by the end of this post as well.

I cannot believe I’m sitting here saying this while bearing in mind that my desired audience are people who have read the Fifteen manga at the very least, and while I insist on it being anything but a sufficient adaptation of the original novel, this particular scene is one I did praise for how it was depicted. Nevertheless, this scene is a third-person recollection of Arthur’s memories, and while it is both written and drawn for us all to see, “(…) at least, that’s how one of them felt�� is a line directly quoting the original novel, being quite clear, straightforward and explicit confirmation that these were, in fact, not mutual feelings for them both, those feelings also being explicitly stated— their partnership, trust, friendship and whatnot was something only Arthur himself believed, all of which you may find black on white in the Fifteen novel, and surprisingly, even in the very manga people are using images from to speak of Rimlaine as if it were a canonical ship now, often based on this one panel.

In addition to that, this doesn’t only apply to these panels, but for the whole manga and any other adaptation of a source material— it is not the original canon. Fifteen adaptations never fail to prove this point on a regular basis, so I believe this shouldn’t be something difficult to grasp. The same, naturally, goes for this specific panel— nowhere in the original novel itself does it imply any kind of mutual closeness between the two partners whatsoever, in fact, it proves the exact opposite time and time again, and this panel is ultimately a creative liberty taken by the artist. In my personal opinion, however, I don’t have a problem with it in this case, given both how much it emphasizes Arthur’s point of view and the very obvious effect the next panel has on it— very directly showing that indeed, this was only a part of his imagination, or so would make the absolute most sense to me, but it seems that kind of “deeper meaning”, which is nowhere near deep or complicated to understand from the given material in any way, is just…lost on this fandom?

Might I also add that it makes no sense in canon, either— even if it was something signed off by Asagiri-san himself, I’d raise an eyebrow, because there is nothing in any of the media Arthur and Paul appear in that implies Paul would be the one to be close to Arthur and not the other way around, yet that’s exactly what’s drawn in said panel. It is very explicitly stated canonical information that Paul hated Arthur at the time, especially before their final mission together, and I could go further here, onwards to addressing some rather far-fetched claims of him somehow always repressing his true feelings he held for Arthur the whole time because he “felt a bit guilty for pulling the trigger” despite both the entire character arc for Paul being intended to culminate in his sudden genuine regret at the very end AND the fact that his continuous total lack of remorse or any shred of grief for his late partner is constantly spoonfed to the reader, but I’m here for one panel only. And one panel is now damn near enough to make me write another essay.

It’s not even as though Rimlaine is canonically a more ambiguous relationship up to the reader’s interpretation— both Fifteen and Stormbringer are, at least to me, very clear in conveying the message that if the feeling of affection, be it platonic, romantic or any other, is present anywhere between these two, it’s from Arthur towards Paul, and it’s entirely unrequited. Their whole story revolves around it, I’ve almost typed it out word for word in my essay if no one would be up to reading any of the necessary passages in the novels, the whole point lay in Arthur’s genuine care and affection towards his partner which is never returned or anyhow acknowledged and appreciated, that of which canonically deeply affects the former throughout his whole life and beyond, but at this point, I’m willing to bet that even if a hypothetical light novel centered around Arthur and Paul out there actually started with the words “this is a story of very obvious unrequited love and a toxic/abusive relationship that’s practically impossible to interpret in any other way”, I’d once again find myself in a spot where I’m giving far too much credence and leniency towards various arguments as to why said disclaimer is somehow wrong.

I promised one more thing as I finish this up, reminding you all the origins of Rimlaine, and why exactly does this all probably read like I’m rather irritated about some mischaracterization that doesn’t have any further impact beyond a fictional work, because that’s not the case. If it were, I’d care far less, the same way I don’t write lengthy paragraphs about Soukoku or any other ship I believe to not be anyhow healthy whatsoever, even though I do actually enjoy one character out of them both.

I could do my third absolutely shameless self-advertisement and refer to part 4 of my essay, but that’s only for further details and clarification, if anyone wanted it. What I’ll say next is something I don’t want hidden somewhere in thousands of words for the deeply curious willing to tread through them, I very much want this to be common knowledge in this fandom, regardless of whether it will deter people from ignoring absolutely all canon, misinterpreting both characters and entire story arcs in rather impressive ways at times to fit their own ship, or just rallying to support it. The choice is up to you, but keep this in mind:

BSD Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine are, in fact, based on two real-life poets, which is made clear beyond merely their names— their characters, abilities, partially personalities and even aspects of their stories are heavily and directly inspired by them. If you wish to claim their real-life affair as something Asagiri-san has obviously heard of and thus must have kept in mind, meaning BSD Rimlaine is either canonical or just somehow healthy, fine, something that “comes naturally” under these circumstances in general, I don’t want to hear you forgetting that this affair was between an abused 16-year-old and a homicidal 26-year-old. That’s the inspiration— real-life abuse, and not only that, abuse of a minor, AND not only that, due to the fact that I’ve not placed any trigger warnings above, I will not go into any details, but it’s nothing short of a horrific story that never received a good end to it.

That is why I insist on this so much, because there is only a tiny handful of very specific good-faith reasons I could possibly think of for practically just supporting the BSD ship. I do hate phrasing the sentence that way, but “support” is the closest word I can use here for the washing away of information, spreading total mischaracterization, and overall just romanticizing any part of this without any care for its origins or true nature, which can be one of two things— or both— to you. A real-life tragedy, or a very clear story of an unhealthy, possibly abusive relationship in BSD.

I know that, in my essay, I said I understand why people might long for such ships and so on, but perhaps I’m just stubbornly typing this in blinding physical pain that obstructs my senses from being able to return to that train of thought or all I’ve written above renders it nonsense even to myself, the original author, because right now, having said all this, I can’t say I’d understand it with all this information provided. The inspiration is a story incredibly sorrowful, dark and truly harrowing, the BSD counterpart couldn’t be more explicit about how extremely one-sided and unhealthy Arthur and Paul’s relationship is, and yet, I feel as though it really won’t matter in the end, because if I’m writing all this over an interpretation of one single panel I can only describe as completely out of left field, which is quite literally directly disputed by the next panel following it, is this really a matter of knowing all the necessary context and information, or am I unknowingly describing something that’s actually common knowledge?

Anyhow, I would perhaps go on, but sadly, I’m left with no choice but to end this abruptly. I…hope this panel will never haunt me again.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 24: What The Past Held

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty four of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.3K

Warnings:  Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Drinking. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Steam from the two coffee mugs sitting on the kitchen table between Rosemary and you tangle and twist in the air like two dragons locking claws in the morning sun.

Sitting there, staring at your daughter felt odd.

You trace her face with your eyes noting the cinnamon colored freckles, the greenish-hazel eyes, the soft curve of her jaw, the almost unnoticeable traces of wave in her dark hair, and stop on her nose. It's the same face that'd you'd looked into the past forty years and yet you don't recognize her.

A memory of holding her when you first gave birth flashes through your mind. You remember the promises you whispered to her when you held her in your arms for the first time, looking down into her little face, with her small hand clutching the tip of your finger while she slept. One was the same promise that Ben made to you the night you chose him, the words all too familiar as you spoke them to the small infant in your arms. Promising to protect her, be strong for her, but now you felt like you failed, because you hadn't been able to keep her safe from Vought.

After all these years, it was just a lie.

Ben was sitting to your right, his hand holding on to yours resting gently on top of your thigh. He wasn’t drinking coffee. Ice floated quietly in the glass of scotch on the table in front of him, the condensation dripping down the outside of the cup to form a ring beneath, but he hadn’t touched it since the three of you had sat down a few moments ago. The morning sun was seeping through, casting an amber glow upon the worn wooden grains of the kitchen table, but you feel no warmth from it's rays.

Rosemary had fought to talk to you alone, told Ben to leave, but you refused to speak to her without him there. You didn’t give a fuck anymore about that, didn’t care if she hated Ben or didn’t want to be around him anymore. You wanted him around and he was going to be here whether she liked it or not, she might as well get used to it.

Lou was in the living room playing Go Fish with Hughie. You could hear her giggles, the almost silent shuffle of cards in her small hands, and the slap of cards against the all glass coffee table two rooms away. When Ben and you had come up from the basement this morning she had practically tackled you she was so happy. You were thankful that Ben had kept her away when you began to spiral. You didn't want her to see you like that. It hadn't been that bad since Ben died, when the pit opened beneath your feet and you all too willingly fell into the darkness.

Funny how the person who sent you into the darkness all those years ago would be the one to light the beacon that brought you back home. It made you more thankful that Ben was here for you.

You knew that it probably hadn’t been easy for him to see you like that and probably went against his internal struggle to push people away for him to care for you like he did. But for you it solidified that Ben loved you and cared for you as much as he said he did when he came back to you.

It meant more to you that he would ever know, just knowing that he would take care of you, would be strong for you the way he promised all those years ago. You had seen bits and pieces of that side of him over the years, but the other day was different. It snagged hard on something deep in your ribcage and refused to budge, understanding that Ben was here to stay, and you'd never be without him again was more wonderful than you could have imagined.

It made you feel once again like the little girl who clung to him when Ben crawled into her bedroom window and begged her not to marry Howard, reminded you once again that you were still important to Ben, and that all the time you spent over the years together was not a waste.

You didn't regret a single second, even if it had ended up the same way that it had, even if everything with Countess still happened, you didn't regret your life.

Butcher and Legend were in his office talking in hushed whispers as if they could hide it from you. You didn’t like it, didn't like the idea that they were scheming something and trying to hide it behind locked doors. The truth was, you weren't focused on them. The only thing you were focused on was the looming conversation between you and Rosemary that seemed to grow more and more until it was the size of the empire state building. The same conversation that you were about to have.

Her legs are crossed beneath the table, frown pulling at her bow-like lips, as she looks from Ben to you trying to think of a way to start the conversation. You'd already told Ben what Stan Edgar told you, but you still wanted him here for this. He had been curious as to why you wouldn't speak to her when you started your descent into the darkness, and you weren't going to lie to him about that.

"Why did you do it?" The words come out calm, you're anything but. You can't fight the war of disappointment and silent rage swirling beneath your skin. You hated that she did this, that she gave a piece of herself to Vought and didn't think to tell you.

You had found out that your daughter had been lying to you for ten years on the same day you found out that Dr. Vogelbaum had stolen your genetic material. You knew that you weren't going to be the same ever again.

Rosemary sits for another moment, eyes flicking to Ben. It's another silent jab at the fact that she doesn't want him here, but you squeeze his hand tighter to tell him you do.

"He approached me." She says finally.

"Who?"

"Stan Edgar."

"When?"

"Five years ago." Her arms tighten where they are crossed over her chest.

"Five years?" You hesitate confused.

Stan told me that he knew that Rosemary was Ben's daughter the moment he saw her ten years ago, but why five years?

"Yes." She nods once as if she's confirming it to herself.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"You were so happy, you were doing better than you ever had and I-" Rosemary sighs heavily. "I didn't want to ruin that."

"I don't give a fuck if I was happy! Stan Edgar coming to you and asking you for-" You begin to snap, losing your temper, but Ben squeezes your hand to remind you to calm down.

"He wasn't asking." Rosemary's eyes darken, and you see a sliver of the mask slip for just a moment and you see her rage.

"What do you mean?"

"It was Charlie." She all but spits out the name.

At the mention of Rosemary's husband's name you pause. It was the first time you'd ever heard her say his name like that. You'd believed that she and Charlie had a perfect marriage, and to learn that it was his fault that everything with Vought starting was jarring. You didn't understand why he would matter in any of this. He wasn't a supe and he had died weeks after Lou was born.

Ben looks from Rosemary to you in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. He knew the story of Rosemary's husband, but didn't know his name.

"What does your husband have to do with any of this?" You say it mostly to clarify for Ben.

Rosemary reaches across the table and takes Ben's glass of scotch, knocking it back in one gulp, but the darkness does not fade from her eyes. "Do you remember the day I met him?"

You did. It was autumn, a few weeks after Rosemary and you moved back to the city for the first time, ten years ago. The leaves were changing into marvelous flashes of red, orange, and yellow, and there was just a hint of winter in the wind. Rosemary and you had moved into the apartment you were still living in, and Rosemary had just gotten her job at the hospital.

She loved it. All the long hours, the helping people, and the dealing with crazy patients.  But the day she met Charlie was different. It was her day off and she was sunning herself on a park bench while drinking an iced coffee and reading one of those paperbacks she loved so much when a handsome stranger had stopped and started talking about the book with her, telling her how much he loved it and suggesting another few books she should read.

Rosemary had floated into the apartment. It was the first time in years that you had seen her so genuinely happy that it made you happy. She'd had a few relationships in the past, but none that made her sparkle like those ten minutes she spent with a stranger on a park bench.

She didn't see him again until a week later, reading one of the books he had suggested while sitting on the same bench and this time he sat with her. Rosemary asked him if he wanted to go get coffee. Their coffee date had turned into a mid-day movie, that turned into dinner and then she finally stumbled into the apartment at 2 am after she and Charlie had closed the restaurant, disrupting a late night painting session that you were doing because sleep never seemed to come. You could see how smitten she was. It brought you comfort to know that she had found someone that made her feel the same way that Ben made you feel the night he made love to you.

Apart of you had been afraid, because Rosemary was a supe and Charlie wasn't. She wouldn't die, wouldn't grow old, but he would. You didn't want to see your daughter go through something like that, to live in a world where she lost someone that meant everything to her.

It was a feeling that you knew all too well.

"I was so stupid." She mutters, before she waves her hand and the whiskey bottle hidden under the sink comes shooting out like a bat out of hell. She pours herself another glass of whiskey in the cup she'd emptied moments ago.

"What are you talking about?" You ask her, still mildly confused.

"Charlie." Rosemary all but spits his name. "I was so stupid. I should have asked more questions, should have waited, but I-" Her voice sticks.

"What about Charlie?"

"He was working for Vought." She takes a long drag from the glass she just poured while your entire world goes upside down all over again.

"What? How? Why?" If you'd been drinking anything, you would have done a spit take.

"I should have questioned it. The moment we move back into the city I meet the perfect man?" She snarls, lips pulling back to bear perfectly straight teeth. "In the five years we were married, Charlie was obsessed with having a child. Said that he wanted to start a family early, said that he wanted to be a father. I kept telling him that I wasn’t ready, but finally I gave in.”

No. That can't be true, Charlie was-

Rosemary hadn't told him who you really were until after they got married, didn't tell her the truth about who she was. You remember how much she agonized over it, how afraid she was to tell him that she was a supe and that she was the daughter of a famous hero. She hadn't told him the true nature of your powers, just told her who you really were. But then it hits you like a bolt of lightning and you remember, Charlie had taken it calmly, only been thrown for a few days, but snapped back as if nothing happened. If anything he acted like he loved her even more that she trusted him with something so important. You remembered being surprised about him being okay with it after so little time.

That son of a bitch.

"When Stan first approached me five years later I was pregnant with Lou." Rosemary continues. "It was too late. Charlie had gotten what he wanted. They knew I would be easier to manipulate if I was pregnant, that I wouldn’t be willing to harm the baby by hurting them. Stan said that they just wanted my blood and he’d leave us alone, all of us. I didn't know about Charlie then. He'd convinced me to do it, said that it would only upset you, said that it was the only way to keep you happy.” She drinks from the glass, frowning as the ice clink against the glass. "He knew how much that I cared about you. How much I wanted to give you a rest after everything that you'd been through. So I did it."

Rosemary's eyes flick to Ben for a moment as she says that last part, a silent jab at him that you catch.

"I told Charlie everything about the two of you, about me-" She says it quietly, pouring the amber liquid into the empty glass. It splashes against the sides as she brings it back up to her mouth. "I thought he loved me, but it was all just a big fucking lie.”

Ben reaches across the table, taking the bottle from where it sits, and takes a sip from it. You could tell that he was getting as mad as Rosemary was. He might not have known Charlie or been in Rosemary’s life, but you knew deep down Ben still felt the need to take care of her. Before he puts it down you gesture with your free hand and he hands it to you, because you needed it to process this and coffee wasn't going to do it. When you drink you don't taste it at all, all you can think about is Charlie.

He had always seemed nice, accepting, laughed easily, and you liked how Rosemary was around him, lighter somehow. If this was true, it meant that he had gotten past you, gotten past the background checks that you ran, gotten past you following him trying to figure out what kind of man he was, and it meant that you had failed to protect Rosemary.

“I found out a few weeks after Lou was born about Charlie. At first I thought he was having an affair, the long hours at the office, the weird phone calls in the middle of the night- but no. It was Stan. Charlie was watching me, updating Stan on the baby. One night I woke up and he wasn't in bed, and I found him standing over Lou's crib holding a vial of her blood." Her teeth clench together. "And that's when he told me."

"Told you what?"

"Lou is a supe."

The words ring around in your head, bringing a wave of anxiety, horror, and fear. It started deep down, bubbling up from below like a witches cauldron until it rises and splashes over the brim.

"What?" You sputter.

"Charlie was a supe and it was his power. He could sense the powers of other supes, knew how powerful they would be before their gifts developed. And he said that Lou would be more powerful than any of us."

"Did he say what it would be?" Ben asks.

"No." Rosemary shakes her head. "Just that when it manifested she would be extraordinary. More powerful than any supe that had ever walked the earth. Even Homelander. And that’s why Vogelbaum and Stan Edgar wanted her.”

You take another sip from the bottle trying to digest her words. Your greatest fear was coming true, any aspect of Lou ever having a normal life was evaporating before your very eyes. That meant you couldn't send her to school, couldn't trust anyone to watch her, not without believing that they were working for Vought and had ulterior motives for watching her. Now it was terrifying to think that the babysitters you had for Lou in the past had done things to her without you knowing.

The thought that someone had done something to Lou without you knowing made you livid.

"He said that Vogelbaum was willing to pay, to give us enough money to start over, to have another child, all we had to do was give Lou to him and we could really be happy. Charlie said that you were too controlling, that this was the only way we could break free from you." Rosemary seethes. "Charlie didn't care about Lou, all he wanted was the money. I’m sure that if I hadn’t woken up he would have taken her and run. Sold his own child. But when I caught him, he thought that if he turned me against you that he could manipulate me into doing whatever he said. Just like he had manipulated me all those years by telling me he loved me."

You watch her haunted expression flip into something darker, something triumphant. You'd seen it before on Soldier Boy's face when he put someone in their place, when Ben was riding high from a good interview or a sparring session when he beat someone into submission. A small tickle of fear began to creep down your spine, cold, like a droplet of rain that raced down your back from under your collar in a thunderstorm.

"I smiled at him, told him everything he wanted to hear as I brought him close, and then I ripped his head off." She leans back in her chair with a shrug, the ice cubes clinking against the glass sides of the cup in her hand. "For such a little bitch he sure did make a mess, but the real mess was trying to cover it up."

You remember the night she showed up on your doorstep toting a sobbing Lou in her arms, the night that Charlie died, when she told you the police called and said that he drowned in his car when it went over a bridge. You remember the look in her eyes days later, hollow, like she was haunted by something otherworldly. And you realize that the haunted look wasn't that Charlie had died, that it was she had killed him after she found out that Charlie was prepared to hand over his own child for a small fortune.

In hindsight that also would have made you kill Charlie. Finding out that he used your daughter to make a child for Vought was about as bad as learning that they stole your genetic material to make Homelander. It was the same idea as the perversion of your body, except this time Vought had hired someone to purposely pretend to love her all because they wanted another supe from your bloodline.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that Rosemary had to endure that and she never said anything to you.

"But the car-" You say to steady the torrent of anger and nausea beginning to build up in your chest.

"Necessary casualty. Put the body in his car, drove it over a bridge, put him in the front seat, did some artful contortions with the hood of the car to make it look like his head was cut off then and there." She sighs.

"You drove it over a bridge, how did you survive that?" Ben asks her, his hand still clasped in your own. You could feel some heat beginning to build under his skin and you hoped that he wasn't about to go nuclear.

"I didn't, but y/n had come over earlier that day to see how I was doing and I touched her so I didn't have to worry about dying."

The silence that follows her confession is deafening. You don't know what to say, don't know what to do, so you just sit there staring at the woman you thought you knew, trying to find some familiarity, but you can't.

“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this?" You say, a little bit heartbroken that she kept something like this from you for all these years.

“It was my business.” She downs the rest of the amber liquid in her glass.

“What the fuck do you mean it was your business?! It’s our family-“

“It was my daughter!” She snaps. “My husband!”

You stare at her, eyes wide, mouth open in shock. You’d never seen this side of Rosemary before, and it scared you.

She exhales a breath. “It was my mess. And I needed to clean it up. Charlie was my mistake.” Her expression shifts to something else, something small and broken.

“He tricked both of us.” You whisper. “It’s not your fault. What Vought did- what Charlie did to you it-"

“It was.” You could hear the emotion building in her voice. “I was the one who was stupid. I was the one who let him in, told him everything about us. I needed to fix it.”

You sit there for a moment because you’re not sure what to say. Learning that Charlie was practically a sleeper cell in your lives was more than just surprising. It was heartbreaking. Because it meant that Vought had won, that they had infiltrated your lives after all these years, that they were still watching, still controlling things behind the scenes.

"Mom." She says tentatively. "I didn't enjoy killing him. I'm not a monster. I-" You can see your daughter again. "I did it because he was going to take Lou, that he had been lying to both of us all those years. And I didn't want Vought to take her away. I didn’t want to lose her.”

"I know. I just-" You take in a deep breath to cleanse whatever sins you think are still hanging in the air. “It’s a lot to take in.” You understood why she did it, understood that you would have done the same thing.

Hell, I have done the same thing. You think to yourself remembering what happened with Stan a few days ago.

"I wish you had told me sooner. I wish you hadn't kept this from me all these years." You sigh.

"I know. I know I should have, but I couldn't. You were really painting again, selling your art, and you were so happy and carefree not worrying about anything and I didn't want to change that. I'm sorry-"

"I know you're sorry, but I don't care if I was happy or you thought I was happy. I would rather know the truth and know what was going on than live completely in the dark. What Charlie did to you-"

"I know." She looks down at her lap in shame and you see the Rosemary you know come back into focus. "I wanted to protect you." Rosemary raises her head to meet your gaze again. "You always do that for me and I-" Tears begin to form. "I just wanted to do that for you."

"Oh honey." You reach across the kitchen table and squeeze her hand, fighting tears of your own. "I'm sorry you felt that way. You're my daughter, I'm supposed to protect you-"

And you hadn't. You'd allowed Vought to do something to her, to mess with her life, to take something so precious and pervert it, and attempt to take a piece of her the way they stole a piece of you.

"But what about you?" The tears began to roll down her cheeks. "All you do is care about me and Lou, it's always been about us, but who's going to take care of you?"

"I am." Ben says it before you can answer, coupling it with a squeeze to your hand that still rests on top of your thigh. Your heart feels like it's going to melt, seep through flesh and bone until you're nothing more than just a puddle of what you used to be.

It was so honest, so completely unlike the man who used to be Soldier Boy that you finally felt the memories of who that man was beginning to fade and leaving you behind with the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. The boy who you'd seen every day since Ben came back.

Rosemary glances at Ben, her expression hardening.

"Look, I know you think that I'm going to leave, that I'm going to fuck up and hurt her again." Ben says, his voice strong. "But I'm not. I don't know how long it's going to take you to trust me, but I love your mother, and I regret the things I did to her every day." For a moment you think you hear something on the edge of his voice, it thickens with emotion for just a second, and you're sure that Rosemary didn't notice because she didn't know Ben as well as you did and she didn't know how hard it was for him to admit something like that. "I promise that I'm going to protect her and take care of her for the rest of my life, because nothing else matters to me the way she does."

The urge to cry lodges itself in the back of your throat as you release Ben's hand and raise it to his face, gently tracing his bearded cheeks with your fingertips. You didn't think that it was possible to love someone this much, to care about someone and wish to have someone this much. You remember all the years before this when you were children, when you wished for it to be this way, but you never imagined that it would be anything like this. To be wholly entangled with someone who completely understood, saw your flaws, saw you at your worst, and still wished to love you.

But you were and you never wanted it to stop.

"I love you too Ben." You whisper, and Ben raises his hand to hold your wrist, keeping your hand pressed against his face. Your other hand was still holding on to Rosemary's, and you knew she was watching the two of you, but you didn't care. You refused to ever let Ben feel like you didn't or feel like no one did. It had been your job for so many years, protecting him, taking care of him the way he always took care of you and it was the job you'd never quit.

Rosemary sighs and wipes her face with the back of her free hand. "Well, if you're going to be around more you might as well know, he was right about Lou."

"You've seen her powers?" Your eyes widen as you turn to look at her, dropping your hand from Ben's face to take his again so it's resting on your thigh once more.

"No, but when I killed Charlie I understood." She presses her lips into a thin line releasing your hand. "Before when I touched him I didn't know how to unlock it, how to use the power so I never noticed how it worked, but when I killed him I realized something about me."

"What do you mean you realized something about you?" Ben asks.

"When I touch someone I get their powers for 24 hours, but when I kill them-" She inhales. "I keep their powers." 

"You WHAT?" Your hand tightens so much in Ben's that you hear an audible crack.

Ben clears his throat. "Softer Sweetheart." He murmurs and you loosen your grip enough for Ben to flex his hand.

If you weren't so shocked at the news you would have teased Ben about it, but now definitely wasn't the time. 

"Why didn't you know that?" You stutter.

"I'd never killed anyone before so I couldn't exactly test the theory out!" She shouts back. "But it's true. My powers are almost the complete opposite of yours."

"Holy fucking shit-" You mutter to yourself closing your eyes for a minute. You'd known that Rosemary was powerful, but this was almost overwhelming.

She could have any power, relatively limitless power and all she has to do is kill another supe.

But so could you. A little voice whispers in the back of your head. The memory of the day that Rosemary stabbed you with a knife by accident and killed you comes rising from the darkness in the back of your mind. She killed me… which means if I kill a supe I get their powers too. This day keeps getting better and better.

"So when you look at Lou what exactly do you see?" Ben asks her with a frown.

"If I concentrate, it's almost like she glows."

"She glows?" Ben clears his throat not quite understanding.

"Yes. For other supes it's not obvious, it's more of a shimmer. For Ben or you or me it's a lot stronger, but when I look at her and concentrate, it's like looking at the sun. Like there's liquid fire that rolls through her veins."

"But she hasn't shown any powers at all?" You say looking at Rosemary, trying to see if she would lie to you about this.

"No. None. It's not through touch, because she's touched me, you, and Ben and she hasn't shown any powers. And if she inherited anything else from either of us I don't know how to test it out. You have to die to get powers and I have to kill someone and I don't want either of those things to happen to my child so-"

"That's probably for the best."

"Yeah."

"This is bad." You murmur sitting back in your chair. "And I thought that it really couldn't get any worse, but here we go."

"What do you mean?" Rosemary squints in confusion.

"They used your blood to make Temp V. That shit that Hughie and Butcher have been shooting up for the past few days, but now I'm worried that they did more with it than Stan told me."

"It's blood. What else would they do?"

"I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I mean I don't think it's enough genetic material to make a child or anything like that but-"

"A what?!" Rosemary chokes on a sip of her coffee. "Why would they do that?"

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You wanted to tell her about Homelander, tell her everything that Stan said. You could feel it on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't say it.

"Homelander." Ben says slowly, understanding exactly what was happening to you. His thumb strokes against the smooth skin on the back of your hand.

"What about him?" Rosemary looks from Ben to you still confused.

"They took genetic material from me and y/n. And they made Homelander."

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?" Rosemary shouts, and this time her coffee cup busts in her hand sending coffee raining down over the table. "You mean they-" Her eyes flick to you with rage, horror, and shock swirling behind her eyes.

"Ben donated his." You clear your throat. "But Vogelbaum didn't wait for me to accept the offer."

Rosemary rises from the table so fast in your head you think she developed the ability to fly. And before you can ask her what she's doing she grabs you and holds you so tight that you'd be worried she'd snap your spine if she could. "Mom I'm so sorry. That's inhuman." She pulls back to look at you. "They shouldn't have done that to you. Treated you like that."

The urge to cry was back, this time coupled with the fleeting memory of what Vogelbaum did flashing through your mind like strobe lights. It had haunted you last night in your dreams, but when you woke up in Ben's arms it had vanished away.

"No they shouldn't have." Ben growls.

"You didn't stop them?" She looks at him, still hugging you, but you can feel her anger. "You let them do that to her?"

"I didn't fucking know they did that shit!" Ben snarls the words, the room heating slightly as he begins to get angry at Rosemary's accusation.

"They did it when Ben wasn't there. He was shooting a film overseas. Stan said that I wasn't supposed to remember and that they were too afraid of what Ben would do to them if they tried to do it with him in town."

Rosemary relaxes. "The nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"I should have killed them all when they started coming for Lou. Shouldn’t have stopped with just Charlie.” She spits.

"I would have gone with you to do it if I knew." You half-smile even though it doesn't really seem to be the type of thing to smile about.

"I would have too, if I was here." You hear Ben mutter under his breath.

"But it’s the same way they treated you with Charlie. Vought used you-" You begin to say to Rosemary.

"I agreed to it-" She interrupts.

"No." Your arms tighten around your daughter. "No you didn't. You didn't agree to marry a psychopath who forced you to have a child with him."

"But-"

"No." You can hear your voice hardening with emotion. You were trying to contain the anger and fury that was almost radiating out from your body. "What Vought did to you was just as bad as what they did to me. They used you, Charlie used you. That is not your fault."

"I should have known better. I should have asked more questions, shouldn't have let him in so easily, but I-" Her shoulders slump a little.

"Sweetie." You stroke her cheek lovingly, looking into her green eyes. They were dim, rimmed with red, and wet. It broke your heart to see her this way, to see her look so small, when the Rosemary you knew inhabited such a large persona. It made you want to resurrect Charlie from the great beyond and then send him there all over again. "This is not your fault. Sometimes you can't help who you fall in love with and you fell in love with the lie of who Charlie was, the man that he pretended to be. It's easy to fall, but when love becomes a burden it's hard to carry." You could feel a lump of emotion forming in the back of your throat.

With Ben it had felt that way sometimes, well, at least when you were younger it felt that way. When you watched him with so many women over the years and it felt like you were dragging your heart behind you as you witnessed it. When it ached each night Ben would crawl into bed with you and act like the boy you used to know, when you weren't sure he still existed. Now it didn't feel that way, because you knew and understood that Ben loved you wholly and completely, just the way that you had loved him for so long.

"And it shouldn't ever be a burden or something you should be ashamed of."  You continue, pulling her in tight for a hug, one of your hands fitting on the back of her head while she leans into your shoulder. You could feel the wet trail of her tears through your shirt. "Falling in love is never a shameful thing, the only shameful thing is those who try to take it selfishly from you without giving anything in return. Love isn't prideful or selfish. And the pieces of yourself you give to someone else when you love them should be shared and should be molded with their own to become something wonderful and beautiful. This isn't your fault and I don't want you to carry this with you. Okay?"

"Thank you mom." She whispers and you hold her all the more tighter against you, trying not to cry yourself. You hated what Vought had done to her, that they had taken something that should be sweet and turned it sour, something warm and turned it frigid, and something caring into something selfish.

Ben made eye contact with you over Rosemary's shoulder and you could see an emotion reflected there that you'd seen the night he came to your apartment with Butcher and Hughie.

Guilt was bubbling up all over again, the guilt that you hadn't seen this coming or tried harder to ensure that Charlie didn't insert himself into Rosemary's life and the guilt that you had allowed him to break her. It was the first time that you had ever seen her look so broken and it reminded you of the way Ben looked when he finally confessed his love for you days ago.

"So what do we do now?" Rosemary asks. She pulls back from you, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve.

"I have no idea." You sigh, brushing away the last of her tears with your thumb. "Homelander's a monster. Butcher wants him dead and maybe… Maybe that's on us to carry it out."

“Or maybe-“ Rosemary stops for a moment. “Maybe we should run.”

“Run?” Ben scoffs.

“Yeah. Just get out of here before it’s too late. Change our names. Go somewhere Vought can’t find us.” She continues. “I can work anywhere mom, so can you. And I guess Ben can figure out what he’ll do for a job.” Rosemary shrugs glancing at him where he still sits at the table with the almost empty bottle in front of him. “We could keep an eye on Lou, not worry about someone coming to take her away.”

You consider what she says for a moment and then you remember what Stan told you, remember the rage, remember the horror, and remember what it was like to make him pay.  The truth was you knew that there wasn’t any running or any way to hide. You knew that as long as Vought was still Vought, they would come for Lou or Rosemary or even Ben. You didn’t want to live that way, with one eye over your shoulder always prepared to hide.

You’d hidden long enough.

“If that’s what you want to do sweetheart we can.” Ben touches your arm and you know he’s addressing you.

“No.” You set your jaw and make eye contact with Ben. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting to hear what you’re going to say. “I’m tired of running. And it’s time that Vought pays for what they’ve done."

A/N: A lot of secrets revealed in this chapter, but I promise I think I have finally figured out exactly where I want this to go. Which is great... but now the hard part is finding the motivation to write. 😭

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

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@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

[uluvjay]

Fall in love with you- T. Zegras

Trevor Zegras x Best friend! Reader (feat. Quinn Hughes)

Summary: you knew Better than to fall in love with Trevor

Warnings?; angst, self-doubt, crying, asshole Trevor, cursing, Quinn comes to the rescue, this is extremely old and hardly proofread so I apologize for any errors!

Next part

—

You were Trevor’s best friend, your moms were best friends in collage leading to the life long friendship of you two.

You two had always been close even when he moved to Michigan for hockey you never drifted. He begged you to come to Boston with him for collage even though he only stayed a year and your had gotten into your dream school.

It was Trevor how could you say no?

That was a problem of yours never being able to tell him no. He wanted to go to a party even though you hated them? You went, wanted you to stay up late with him despite you having a big test the next day? You did it.

You always blamed it on the fact he was your best friend but everyone besides Trevor knew you were lying, they could all see how in love you were with him they just never brought it up.

The first person to call you out on those feelings was Quinn Hughes. Trevor had invited you to the Hughes lake house two summers ago where he constantly left you and was hardly even home most nights, usually with some random girl he met that day.

There had been an argument between you and Trevor, you blew up on him after he came home from another one night stand telling him if you knew you would be spending more time with the Hughes family and their other friends then him you wouldn’t have come in the first place.

He got offended saying he was allowed to have fun to even though that had nothing to do with what you were saying, after he stormed out of the room you were staying in you made the impulse decision to book a flight back to New York, and get the hell out of there but Quinn had caught you packing.

—-

“Hey you okay we heard you two yell- woah what’re you packing for?” He asked stopping himself mid sentence

“Im going home Quinn, thank you for opening your home to me I really appreciate it and you guys have all been so nice spending time with me while Trevor’s off with random girls every night”

“Wait, why are you leaving though? Did Trevor say something? I’ll go kick his ass right now if he hurt your feelings”

“No he didn’t I-I just can’t do this anymore, he begged me to come and of course I said yes like always just for him to pretty much say fuck me and leave me to be with some random girls who probably took pictures of him sleeping so they can post them an-“

“Your in love with him” he said cutting you off

“What? No Quinn, I’m not” you replied with a defensive laugh

“Don’t lie to me”

“Quinn I’m not”

“Cut the bullshit” he told you more stern shutting the door

“I’m not lying”

“Yes you are, I see the way you look at your phone when he lets you know he won’t be coming back, how you stare at the marks on his neck and back, how you stare daggers into all the girls that talk to him, the way your face lights up when he walks into a room, your in love”

“He can’t know Quinn, it’ll ruin everything” you told him looking down at your hands

“Hey, your secrets safe with me, but you can’t do this to yourself forever kid”

And that’s how You and Quinn also became best friends

—-

Fast forward two years and here you are back at the same Lake house in the same predicament. However over last summer you became good friends with most of the guys including Jamie and Mason who came with from Anaheim.

You Graduated from collage in May and got your degree in interior design, tonight Quinn and Jack were hosting you a small graduation dinner as they wasn’t able to attend your graduation along with some of the other guys.

You were standing in the Kitchen with Cole, Quinn, Jack, Trevor and Jamie who had all just come back from a workout.

“So Y/n you gonna come to Montreal and help me make my house look nice? I need some help decorating my shelves they don’t look good” Cole asked

“You can reach your shelves?” Jack asked causing everyone to laugh

“Shut up asshole” Cole replied

“Yeah Coley I’ll come help but I won’t be needing your stepladder I should be good” you said adding in to the joking

“You know what fuck all of you” he said walking off laughing

“Love you!” You called out laughing as well

“When he murders us all in our sleep I won’t be surprised” Quinn said causing everyone to let out light giggles

“Y/n what color you wearing tonight? I don’t wanna clash” Jack asked you

“You act like you won’t be wearing shorts and a random shirt ” you replied “but probably this white dress I bought a little while ago, I’m finally tan enough to wear it”

“You can’t wear white, the girl I invited is” Trevor blurted out looking at his phone

“Dude what the hell? I told you this was a lake house thing only, only the people staying here are allowed at the dinner, no extra invites” Quinn said getting a little pissed

“Aren’t your parents coming? Along with Luke, some of his friends, and y/n’s one friend? Why can’t my friend come”

“That’s our Family Z, they have a relationship with y/n and she knows Luke’s friends from them hanging around they’re like all madly in love with her” Jack said joining in

“Y/n’s fine with it right?” He said giving you the look he always did when he wanted something from you

“I’m not paying, it’s up to Quinn and Jack they organized the dinner” you said looking away

“Yeah so she’s not coming and if she for some reason does show up, she better not be in white, it’s Y/n’s night” Quinn said ending the conversation and walking out everyone else following besides you and Trevor.

“What the hell was that?” Trevor scoffed

“What?”

“You totally taking Quinn’s side!? Are you in a mood with me or something? Why can’t my friend come”

“Because I’m not paying Z, it’s not something i organized Quinn and Jack did, if I had it up to me we’d being having pizza and sitting around a fire not going to a fancy restaurant.” you told him growing a bit annoyed.

“Whatever” he mumbled stomping off.

—

Four hours later everyone was in a private room at some fancy restaurant in Michigan, in all it had ended up being You, The Hughes family, Cole, Mason, Jamie, Trevor, Dylan and Luca.

Trevor hadn’t spoken to you since earlier in the kitchen and hadn’t gotten off his phone since you guys had gotten to the restaurant.

Jamie and Mason had both said something to him multiple times but it just ended with Trevor giving both of them attitude.

You were talking with Ellen about the new things she had planted in their home garden when Trevor stood up and pocketed his phone walking out of the private room.

“Okay can I ask what the hell his problem is?” Ellen had asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I didn’t let him invite one of his little hookups and he got mad because Y/n took my side instead of giving in” Quinn explained.

“He hasn’t said a word to me since like noon either” Jack added.

“Okay this isn’t about him and let’s not make it about him, tonight is about Y/n and her achievements” Jim said shutting everyone up just in time as the food was being served.

Ten minutes later the door opened back up and in walked Trevor with a blonde girl.

You froze, was he serious right now? For one night he couldn’t listen and not go off and do what he wanted. You looked around and seen Jamie and Cole both rubbing their foreheads and looked next to you at Quinn who had his head titled back, then to your right to your best friend who looked like she was about to murder both Trevor and the blonde girl.

You returned to eating until you heard someone scoff and a chair scoot out, as you looked up you seen Jamie pulling Trevor out the room, leaving the girl in the room.

“And you are?” Ellen asked causing Luke and Jack to both let out slight laughs at how straightforward their mom was.

“Emma” she replied

“Mm” was all Ellen replied, she also knew about your feelings for Trevor

The door opened back up and in walked a pissed off Jamie which was a rare sight to see, and an annoyed Trevor.

“Everyone this is my girlfriend Emma” he announced and it got so quiet you could hear a pin drop as everyone looked from them to you.

Did everyone know about your feelings? Were you truly that noticeable when it came to how you acted around Trevor?

“Since when?” Mason asked

“Three months” Emma answered

Everyone just stayed quite, the tension could be cut with a knife and the amount of awkwardness was uncomfortable.

“I think it’s time to head home” you whispered in Quinn’s ear

“Yeah, I’ll go grab the check” he said getting up and walking out

“Where’s he going?” Trevor asked

“To get the Check” you replied

“Already? Is that what you whispered in his ear about? I’m not ready to leave you can’t just decide when we all leave Y/n”

“Well I’m ready to head home Trevor and it was my graduation dinner but you of course found a way to make the night about you” you snapped standing up and leaving.

—

Once everyone got home you went straight to your room and got changed into comfortable clothes, went down stairs, made a drink and went outback.

You were feeling a rollercoaster of emotions, you loved Trevor and he constantly hurt you but honestly it was your fault, you were the one that never told him how you feel how’s he supposed to know you wanna be the one in his bed every night?

You were also angry at him, how dare he pull the shit he did tonight at your graduation dinner of all things. You celebrated multiple achievements of his with him and never once made it about you, it just wasn’t fair.

You didn’t even realize someone had come outside or that you were crying until you heard someone ask you something.

“Huh?” You asked as you came back to your surroundings to see Jack sitting next to you.

“I asked why your crying”

“Oh it’s nothing” you rushed out wiping your tears

“Non of that Bullshit what’s up” he asked

“I love Trevor, no I’m in love with him, have been since I was 17”

“I know” he replied nonchalantly

“What?!”

“It’s not hard to notice y/n, your pretty bad at hiding it” he said with a laugh

“You don’t think he noticed do you..”

“No he’s to stupid” he told you laughing again

“Good, I just don’t know what I’d do if he found out I was in love with him, we’ve been best friends since we were born it would ruin everything.”

“You’re in love with me?” You heard the person that shouldn’t be asking that question ask it.

“Shit” you mumbled closing your eyes

“I’m gonna head back inside” Jack said getting up and patting your shoulder

“I asked you a question Y/n, please tell me you’re talking about someone else you’ve been friends with since kids.”Trevor said

“No it’s you, I love you” you said in a low voice

“What the Fuck” he said with a laugh

“I know, I know I’m sorr-“

“Sorry doesn’t cut it Y/n! Do you know what this is going to change? Everything! Our whole lives, every moment we’ve ever shared, it’s all different now”

“I know that’s why I never said anything, I knew you wouldn’t feel the same” you mumbled

“Damn right I don’t feel that way”

“Can you not be rude right now?, you listened in on a conversation you had no business hearing and now you know information that just ruined our friendship, I don’t need you being an ass”

“Why? Why me y/n?”

“I don’t know Trevor! I ask myself that every single day, why you, why my best friend? And I don’t have an answer ” you told him.

“You should have known better”

“It not like I wanted to fall for you Trevor, it’s not like I hoped and wished that I’d fall in love with you and ruin a 22 year long friendship.”

“We need space, I need space y/n I don’t know how to feel about this.” he told you

“I’ll find the next flight to New York tomorrow and be gone” you told him walking past him and into the house.

—

As you were laying in bed you heard someone knock on your door, “come in” you said with a hoarse voice from crying

“Hey I just wanted to check in, Jack told me what happened” Quinn said walking in

“It was so bad Quinny” you said breaking down again.

“No, don’t cry, it’ll be okay y/n” he said sitting next to you and rubbing your back

“I’m leaving tomorrow” you told him

“Why?”

“He said he wants space so I’m gonna go home, I think it’s for the better you know getting away from him”

“Don’t go home, let’s go somewhere”

“Where?” You asked with curiosity

“A beach?”

“That sounds nice”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” you said looking up at him with a smile

—-

Next part

[atinyniki]

i ruined it...

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!lee felix x f!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff if you squint

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, almost breakup, y/n doesnt think felix loves her, felix is referred to as lix, felix neglects y/n bc of his job, felix misses their two year anniversary dinner, felix has trouble breathing in the scene, felix cries a lot, proposals, promise rings, insecurities, felix has been broken up with a lot bc of this, y/ns fav flowers are peonies, fighting

authors note: i cried. i dont even know why this came to mind??? but it did !!! so enjoy the angst :P this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 2232

“i’m sorry”

“sorry isn’t going to cut it anymore, felix. you’ve said it so much i don’t think you mean it anymore.”, you bite back harshly.

you’re normally understanding of felix’s job. it regularly requires him to stay overtime and keeps him very busy, but he’s missed too many of your activities.

he missed ice skating, your birthday, at least ten dates, but now he’s missed your anniversary. two years that you’ve been together, yet it’s like you don’t even see the boy anymore.

“what…?”

“it’s always ‘sorry’. if you were really sorry, maybe you would’ve skipped dinner with the boys. you could’ve come home… to me…”, your voice falters at the last two words, cracking with raw emotion.

it’s not fair to you anymore, nor is it to him. he can’t leave group activities or basically anything work related, even when it’s an emergency. if no one’s in danger, then there’s no chance he can leave.

“don’t you ever want to see me…?”

his face contorts into an expression of disgust. not with you, but with himself. his tears finally drip over his lashline, eyes red and burning. the tears are continuous now, completely unable to stop.

“i do… i do want to see you… i miss you so much, y/n.”

you scoff, “don’t lie to me, felix.”

he opens his mouth to say something back, but only a squeak comes out. “do you still love me…?”

“i love you to the ends of the earth… i promise.”

“then why don’t you ever show it? i don’t even know if i believe you anymore.”

he clamps a hand over his mouth, not out of surprise, but to suppress his sobs. he continues hiccupping, but clutches his mouth harder, not wanting to make too much noise.

he tilts his head down slightly so you won’t be able to see the painful look on his face. he tries to pull through, knowing that your pain must be much worse than this.

the sight breaks your heart.

“take your hand off your mouth. you won’t be able to breathe”

he complies, quickly wiping his tears and taking long breaths. “please- please believe m-me. i really do love you. i’m so sorry.”

he says it again, and you look into his eyes. you can see the pain in there, causing your heart to crack even more. you know he’s dealing with a lot right now, but so are you.

and now you need space. time to think about yourself, and time to think about if this relationship is really worth it anymore.

“i swear, i mean it, y/n.”

“you’re the one ruining this. this isn’t fair at all, felix. i love you, but i don’t think you love me the same way i love you. you’re not making an effort in anything. i don’t know if this is going to work anymore if it stays like this.”

silence.

“i need space.”

“i can give you that.”

“i don’t think this relationship is good for either one of us right now. ill come back when im ready.”

he nods in understanding, but his eyes are blown wide. the second you leave the room, he starts sobbing again.

no, not sobbing. wailing.

there’s nothing else he can do. this truly might be the end of what he hoped would be forever. 

he hurt you. he hurt you and that hurts him. your pain is his pain, but he knows you have it worse. if anything, he deserves this pain. you’ve had to bear this pain for months.

it’s his fault, he knows it. everything’s falling apart because of him, like it always does. everything’s ruined. it will end like it always does. 

just felix, alone.

someone else will come along, and he’ll break them too. it’s happened time and time again, and he’s finally given up.

it’s you he wants to spend the rest of his life with. it has to be you. no one else has made him feel this way, not once.

what’s worse is that you’re truly considering breaking up. ending it all because of another stupid thing felix did.

and for this, he will never forgive himself.

he’s still crying, just as loud as before, but now snuggled up into the couch. it smells like you, he realizes. maybe that’s why he’s getting so emotional.

he plays with the promise ring on his finger, crying even more now. maybe he won’t need it anymore after this.

you start packing, taking a good amount of clothes and stuffing them in your suitcase. you’ll have enough space for everything, you’re sure.

you grab one of your favorite sweaters from the closet, it has an adorable baby chick embroidered onto it. you stare at it again, but then put it back. it reminds you too much of him. 

you make your way to the bathroom, placing your hand on the counter while you open the drawers to check for any jewelry, when you hear a clink.

you place your hand down on the marble again.

clink.

you look down at your ring finger, a singular tear leaving your eye. you remember when felix got down on one knee on your one year anniversary. it was too early for a proposal, so you freaked out, but he calmed you down and opened the box.

a promise ring. a simple band to symbolize eternity. an eternity you believed you’d spend with felix. you’re scared that eternity doesn’t exist anymore, as much as you want it to.

you don’t know if he cares. if he cares about what you have. if he cares about you. 

you remove the band from your finger, shaky hands placing it down onto the counter. you observe the thin tan line it’s made, has it truly been that long?

when did everything change…?

you look for the box that felix gave it to you in. you’ve never taken it off since you got it.

you check in your jewelry drawer, but it’s not there. so you check in his.

there it is. a navy blue box with gold accents on the edges. you smile sadly, crying a little more when you truly think about your circumstances.

you grab the ring from the countertop and flip open the box.

your heart stops.

it’s supposed to be empty.

why isn’t it empty?

there’s a gorgeous gold band on the inside, small peonies engraved into it. your favorite flower, you realize. additionally, there’s a perfect heart shaped diamond sitting on top, almost taunting you. 

the heart was meant to symbolize your love. the love you have for eachother. the love he has for you. but felix has never been able to show that properly, not while under his circumstances.

is this the surprise he mentioned the week before? is this why he told you to dress nicely to dinner? is this why he told you to do your nails all nice?

it had to be, right?

you close the box and hold it tightly in your hand, trying your best to suppress the tears that are trying desperately to escape.

but your heart controls you more than your mind.

its almost as if your heart actually has a mind of its own, bringing you to where you are now. standing in the living room, watching the sobs rack felix’s body, velvet box still in hand.

his body jerks with each hiccup, the noise completely muffled by his hand. it’s then you realize that it’s not muffled, he’s suffocating himself.

you place the box down onto the table, rushing over to felix. you grab his shoulder, pushing him over and sitting him upright. he jerks when you touch him, not expecting you to be anywhere near him.

once he truly processes the sight of you, he cries even more. you pry his hand off of his face again, you know it’s a bad habit.

“felix. you won’t be able to breathe when you do that.”

“im sorry. i didn’t w-want you to- to hear m-me”

“deep breaths.”

he inhales deeply, trying his best to follow your breathing patterns, but it fails every time, broken up into small hiccups. “i c-can’t.”

“calm down…”

you give him a small smile, almost to reassure him. he tries again, but it doesn’t work. he shuts his eyes, unable to take it all, and the tears just continue to spill.

“i- i can’t… i can’t breathe”

you rub circles onto his back, trying your best to do breathing exercises with him. you forget how truly sensitive he is. 

“i’m right here…”

“you’re r-right here.”

“mhm… i’m right here, felix.”

“you’re right here… w-why are you here?”

you tilt your head in confusion, wiping a single cascading tear away from his cheek. “i’m here to take care of you.”

“you- i… i don’t deserve it…”

“what?”

“i don’t deserve you. you can- you can leave. i’m not forcing you to stay…”

your heart is now barely holding on, and it feels like only a single thread is holding it together.

“i’m here because i want to help you, lix.”

“you don’t- no- you don’t need to help me… it’s my fault.”

you open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. 

“it’s my fault… i’m sorry.”

“felix…”

“you’ll leave…”

what’s going on with him?

“they all leave… n-not you too…”

“felix.”

“i don’t want you to leave… it’s all my fault.”

“felix, please, calm—“

“you’re going to leave…”

“i’m not going to leave.”

“i ruined it…”

it’s almost as if he’s stuck in the same state of mind, every part of the world being blocked out except for the terrible thoughts swirling around in there.

you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding his gaze towards you. one single look into your eyes, and he’s sobbing again. 

you place your left hand on his knee, you know how much he loves to feel you, but he only seems to cry more.

he tentatively brings a hand up to the one splayed out in his knee, and you watch him out of curiosity. he giggles, and you look back up.

he’s crying even more now, you don’t even know how that’s possible. he picks up your hand by your ring finger, staring at the tan line that your promise ring created. 

“i ruined it. how could i ever let you go…?”

he runs his thumb over it, and he quickly pulls your hand closer to his face. he places a soft kiss onto the line, just once, as to finally seal his fate.

it will never happen. he must accept it.

you don’t let go, instead intertwining your fingers. “i thought about it for a little. i really don’t want to leave you felix. i just… i didn’t know if you loved me anymore.”

“i do… i do love you.”

“i know that now.”

“you don’t know the full extent to which i do, y/n. i don’t just love you for what you have to offer. i love you for you. i love you for your smile, and i love you for waking up everyday. i love you for working hard, and i love you for your heart. i love you for things i can’t even see, and i love every part that makes you you. i love y/n. i love you. and i love you for being you.”

it feels as if the tears in your heart have finally been stitched up. every crack in your heart healed with his pure words. you know they came from the heart too. 

“i can’t guarantee i’ll be there for every event, and im sorry for that. ive tried to change that, but the rules are strict. even then, i wont give up. i’ll try my best to change them, i want to be the best boyfriend i can be. i dont want to rush dates because im running out of time, but instead because i cant wait to get home and finally cuddle with you without being in the public eye. i dont want to be late to any events just so that i can see that beautiful smile on your face when you see me there. i just want to make you happy, happier than you’ve been recently.”

“oh felix…”

he doesn’t say anything else, placing your hand back down on his knee and retracting his hand. that’s when his gaze flies to the table in front of him, the dark blue velvet box staring right at him.

he stands up, grabs it, and then kneels back down, on not one, but both knees. it looks almost as if he’s begging, but what you don’t realize, is that he truly is. he’s begging for your forgiveness, and he’s begging for another chance.

he has to make things right.

“y/n… i know i haven’t been the best boyfriend recently, not at all, but i want to make things right. you’ve brought so much light into my world, and i want to bring you that light too. i just need you to give me one last chance. one chance to make it right. i know it’s not the perfect proposal, but please, make me the happiest man in the world.”

he flicks open the box, displaying the band you last observed in the bathroom.

“i love you.”

“that’s not a yes or a no.”

“yes, i love you.”, you repeat.

you can’t control your heart anymore, and you take the chance to push felix down to kiss him. you know it’s not the ideal proposal, nor is it the ideal post-proposal kiss, but your answer would always be yes.

“it’s you, felix. it’s always been you.”

“y/n.”

“hm?”

“i promise, i’ll never let you go again.”

<3

[tastelikezweig]

i love you, i’m sorry art donaldson x reader

⚠️ Not proofread, enjoy.

You walk through the hallway of Art's dorm building, your heart pounding with determination and anxiety. The last few weeks have been a blur of confusion and frustration. Everything seemed perfect, until Tashi got injured during a match. Since then, Art’s been increasingly distant, spending more time with Tashi and less with you.

You knock on Art’s door, trying to steady your breathing. “Art, it’s me. I need to talk you.”

The door swings open, and Art looks at you with a hint of surprise. “Hey. Sure, come in.”

You step inside, glancing around the room. It’s the same as always, but the atmosphere feels different, colder somehow. Art sits on his bed, motioning for you to take a seat.

“So,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ve been feeling like we need to talk. Lately, you’ve been so distant. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Art looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize I was being distant. I’ve just been really busy, you know, helping Tashi with her recovery and all.”

You nod, but your heart sinks. “I understand that Tashi’s hurt and needs support. But what about us? I haven’t seen you in weeks. You barely text me anymore, and when we do talk, it feels like you’re somewhere else.”

Art shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not like that. I’ve just been trying to be there for her. She’s been having a tough time, and I want to help.”

You feel a surge of frustration. “I get that you want to help her, but you’re my boyfriend. I thought we were in this together. You can’t just drop everything for someone else.”

Art’s eyes narrow slightly. “I haven’t dropped everything. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here physically,” you say, your voice cracking with emotion, “but you’re not really present. I feel like I’m fighting for your attention, and I shouldn’t have to.”

Art stands up, walking over to his desk. “Look, I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. I’m not cheating on you or anything. I’m just trying to help a friend.”

“Help a friend?” You stand up, unable to keep the tears from falling. “Art, be honest. Are you falling in love with her?”

Art freezes, his face a mix of shock and guilt. “What? No, that’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me, Art!” You shout, your voice echoing off the walls. “I see the way you look at her. I see how much time you spend with her. You’re leaving me in the dark, and it hurts. I loved you first. I put everything into this relationship, and now it feels like I’m fighting alone.”

Art runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “I didn’t realize this was such a big deal. I didn’t think—”

“Didn’t think what?” you interrupt, your voice rising with desperation. “Didn’t think I’d notice? Didn’t think I’d care that you’re neglecting me for someone else?”

He sighs heavily. “I guess I didn’t. I thought it was just a phase. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s not just a phase for me. I thought we had something real, something worth fighting for. But now I’m not sure if you ever felt the same way.”

Art looks pained, but there’s an underlying resignation in his eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I never meant to lead you on or make you feel this way.”

“You didn’t just make me feel this way,” you say, your voice breaking. “You made me believe in something that wasn’t real. I need to know if there’s still a chance for us, or if I should just let go.”

Art doesn’t say anything for a long moment, his silence heavy with unspoken words. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “Maybe we need some time apart. To figure things out.”

The pain in your chest feels like a vice. “Time apart? You mean, you want me to wait around while you sort out your feelings for Tashi?”

Art’s expression softens, but there’s a finality in his voice. “I didn’t want it to end like this. I’m sorry, but maybe we’re just not on the same page.”

You nod slowly, tears streaming down your face. “I guess I’ve been fighting for a relationship that was never as strong as I thought.”

The next day, you return to your dorm after class, exhausted from the emotional confrontation with Art last night. As you approach your door, you spot a small bouquet of flowers resting on the floor. Your heart skips a beat, hope and skepticism washing over you.

You kneel down and pick up the bouquet, noticing the card partially sticking out. With trembling fingers, you pull it free and read the scrawled message:

I never meant to hurt you. I love you, I’m sorry.

Your breath catches in your throat. The words seem so out of place after the intensity of last night’s argument. You stare at the bouquet, the flowers bright and cheery in contrast to the storm of emotion you feel inside. The card is simple, and yet, it stirs something deep within you.

A part of you wants to believe that Art’s apology is genuine, that he’s realized what he’s lost and wants to make things right. Another part of you, however, is wary, remembering the hurt and confusion that led to this point.

You sit down on the floor, holding the bouquet close. You feel a pang of longing for the relationship you once cherished and the man who seemed to be everything you wanted. But the ache from the confrontation still lingers.

Just then, your phone buzzes with a message. It’s Art.

“I know it’s a stupid gesture, but I hope it shows how much I regret everything. Can we talk? I really want to fix things.”

You read the message over and over, the words echoing in your mind. You want to respond, to let him know how much his apology means, but you also need to protect yourself from more heartache.

You rise slowly, clutching the bouquet. After a moment of deliberation, you type out a reply:

“Thank you for the flowers and the apology. I need some time to think about everything.”

You hit send, with relief and sadness filling your chest as you walk into your room and place the bouquet on your desk. The flowers are a beautiful gesture, but they don’t erase the hurt or the distance that has grown between you.

[n6ptunova]

can’t take it anymore • chris sturniolo

summary: you challenged chris to last nnn to which he confidently accepted. little did he know you’d be making it extra hard for him :)

warnings: suggestive content, making out, mentions of sex. not proofread.

“bet,” he smirked. “come on babe, give me a real challenge.”

you made a bet with chris challenging him to last the entire month of november without doing it. you hadn’t really agreed on his prize if he wins, partly because you’re both just doing this to build up tension and because you had plans to make him lose. but he didn’t know this.

you guys aren’t sex addicts so this challenge wouldn’t be difficult chris thought. that was until he saw you walk through his bedroom door wearing nothing but his shirt. literally nothing else. he loved seeing you in his clothes. he turned to his phone trying to find a distraction.

you noticed this, so you decided to get his attention, “baby can you get my- actually i’ll get it myself,” you leaned over him to reach for your chapstick on the nightstand by his side of the bed, your shirt lifting as you stretch your hand and your bare ass just inches away from his face.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he lightly threw his head back shutting his eyes and trying to think of anything other than pinning you down and getting a taste of you. as you sat back next to him your hand briefly grazed his crotch making him twitch.

“you okay baby?” you asked ever so innocently.

“nice try, it’s gonna take a lot more to break me.” he lied. he wanted nothing more than to have you wrapped around him. but he’s too competitive, he needed to win.

“oh i wasn’t trying to do anything,” another lie, “but hey look at this new chapstick i got its cherry flavoured.” before he had time to even process what you’re saying or doing you grabbed his face with one hand and gave him a short but passionate kiss, lingering a little so he can taste the cherry. he chased after your lips as you pulled away making you giggle.

“see?” he gathered the ability to give a quick answer, “mhm…very sweet.” that night might’ve been the first time he went to sleep before you. he knew if he stayed awake he’d give in.

a few days passed and chris still hasn’t cracked. it was time to really make it hard for him. you put on a short tank top with no bra- so everything was practically on display- along with silk booty shorts. you knew the plan was working because since he came over he hasn’t been able to stop staring at your chest. readjusting himself every time you purposefully lean over when laughing so he gets a glimpse of your tits bouncing. he was starting to get really frustrated.

“chris, what’s wrong? you seem off today,” you inched closer to him on the couch and slid your hand to the back of his neck up to his hair slowly playing with it as if to ‘ease his nerves’ but you had different intentions obviously.

“nah i’m good,” he glances down at your lips then chest and back up to your eyes, “just can’t wait for november to be over.”

“oh,” you straddled his lap placing one hand on his chest and the other cupping his face, “well babe, no one told you kissing me was off limits.” he’d avoided kissing you and pretty much anything else that caused temptation. you brought your face closer to his, lips barely touching, “i missed you,” you almost moan out that last sentence.

you had him in a trance, his eyes low, contemplating, as your thumb rubbed his cheek and your other hand slid down his chest and rested on his stomach just above the waistline of his sweats. he needed one more push, you can tell he’s so close to giving in. you started grinding painfully slow down his growing bulge, “please kiss me, chris,” you whined.

he wasted no time crashing his lips onto yours placing both of his hands on your hips with a tight grip pulling you as close as possible to him. he groaned into the kiss when you continued to grind down on him. your hands tangled in his hair as you kiss him back hard, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy as he shoved his tongue down your throat. you tug on his hair earning a moan from him.

you pulled away to take your breath and the sight in front of you was heavenly. you took a mental image of it. chris looked fucked out, hair messy, lips pink and swollen, mouth parted slightly as he breathed heavily, eyes hazy full of admiration and lust looking you up and down. you wanted more, you wanted him to fully break his streak.

you reached for the strap of your tank top, taking your time to pull it down your shoulder resting loosely on your arm as one of your tits slipped out of it right in front of his face. he almost got whiplash from how fast his eyes traveled down, readjusting underneath you again causing you to throw your head back and moan. you held onto his arms for stability and begged him, “please take it off of me. i need you chris.”

“fuck.” his name sounded like honey dripping from your mouth. he immediately starts sucking on your tit while pulling down the other strap and giving your now fully exposed breast a squeeze. you can feel him getting harder and harder under you. you grip and tug on his hair again making him moan and sending a vibration to your nipple in his mouth. he pulled away looking you straight in the eyes.

“i can’t take it anymore.”

with that he laid you down on the couch, quickly getting on top of you. his knee grazed up and down your crotch as he kissed and sucked your neck surely leaving marks everywhere. he moved down from your neck to your stomach pausing when he reached the waistband of your shorts. he looked up at you and said, “you win. okay i can’t do it anymore i need to fuck you so bad.”

and he did exactly that. it was a long week but totally worth the wait.

[jeansplaytoy]

‘ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .

you took interest in someone you never thought you would.

arminxreader, black!reader, 90s highschool based, language throughout, sexual references throughout (maybe not in this chapter), hood themed, mental /some physical abuse, armin referred to as ‘white boy armin’, all characters are 18+ except for the ones that obviously aren’t and in the beginning, NO PROOFREAD YALL.

“aye, white boy.”

“white boy armin!”

“you’re a disappointment, armin.”

“mommy loves you, armin. okay?”

he lived up to those same words and phrases everyday, nothing new. it’s just the way he lived. growing up from hearing his mom and dad argue every single damn day, shits annoying. especially when the attention moved on to him.

and he was only 12.

“you don’t know what he goes through at school, or even here, because you’re not around enough!” that was his mom.

“i don’t give a shit what happens at school or here. i don’t want him to grow up like the rest of the kids on these streets. look at where we fuckin live, woman! you actually think he’s gonna have fun here?” that was his dad. he hates his dad. he was always yelling, and drinking, and yelling again.

but armin was quiet. he didn’t really get to have a say in things, but even when he did, he didn’t say anything.

“yo, armin! can you come out today?” eren asked, across the street of armin’s house. he stood up and glanced back at his house, shrugging.

and then there were the streets. the damn hood streets where a lot of shit happens, a lot of shit was seen. but he had to be some kind of ‘privileged white boy’? no. did he wanna be? no. but he didn’t like where he lived. he only grew to like it, especially when you came into the picture.

now you were one of the girls that everyone wanted to talk to at school, the one with the good style and the good personality that every boy always wanted to kiss or date.

“this armin. he cool, real chill. he quiet but you know, you gon’ start liking him when y’all get closer.” ony said. you all walked the sidewalks together, them walking you home to make sure you were safe on the way. ‘them’ being eren, ony, and armin. eren knew armin the longest, and he would be considered to be ‘white boy eren’, but he wasn’t even from around there. he went to a different school, and fought almost everywhere he went, which is why he wasn’t from around there anymore.

“you new here or sum? or you just quiet.” you looked up at him, holding your backpack on your shoulder.

“quiet.” he muttered, looking away.

he wasn’t gonna lie when he said he didn’t really like you at first. but as years went by, it was more of you he could stand.

“boy i don’t want you. i already said that.” you looked at a boy as you closed your locker.

“bi-“

“say it. i want you to.” armin said, leaning against a locker behind the guy, making him turn around. “who the fuck you posed to be? oh. that white boy.” he scoffed.

armin raised his eyebrows.

yeah, that was his third fight that month.

and the third time his dad yelled at him in that week.

“why the hell am i gettin’ calls from the school saying you’re suspended again? see, this is why you need to stay in the damn house and be homeschooled—!”

as he kept rambling, armin closed the fridge and sighed, walking upstairs.

“don’t walk away from me when i’m fucking talking to you, arlert!” his dad slammed his beer glass down and followed armin.

“so i can’t walk and listen at the same time? ight.” armin mumbled.

“the fuck did you just say?” his dad squinted, making his way to his room.

armin turned around. “i said-“ “honey, just leave him alone. he hasn’t did anything bad, maybe he was just defending his self!” his mom rushed in the picture, but was shoved out of the way. his dad grabbed his shirt and pinned him against the wall.

“listen you little shit. you talk back to me again and i’ll break your fuckin’ face. i don’t know where you get your attitude from, but you need to shut the hell up like you did when you were younger.” his dad snapped through gritted teeth. armin’s breathing got heavy and he bit his bottom lip with a force, nearly making his own lip bleed.

“just get off of him!” his mom yelled.

his dad stared into his eyes, fuming with anger. he shoved him against the wall one last time before turning and stoping downstairs. armin stood there for a few seconds before going in his room, slamming the door behind him.

he threw his self down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes with a slight frown. that’s when he got a text.

ony

yo u tryna hoop?

he tossed his phone down beside him and sniffed, getting up and looking through his drawers for basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

he changed his clothes and shoes, fixing his hair in the mirror before grabbing his second backpack and his phone, walking out of his room.

he went downstairs and to his kitchen, where his mom washed the dishes. “where you headed, sweetie?” she asked. “bouda hoop, Ma. ill be back tonight.” he grabbed a bottle of water and walked towards the front door. “don’t come too late.” his mom said before blowing him a kiss.

armin nodded and shut the door behind him, starting to walk out of the driveway and down the sidewalk. the walk was like 5 minutes. 5 minutes that he didn’t care about because nothing else in his life was that important.

but when he made it, it was slightly better.

“i know that ain’t white boy armin, man i heard you got suspended today.” one of his friends dapped him up. “yeah, ian worried bout that. i just wanna hoop right now.” he walked towards the basketball goal with ony, jean, and connie.

“wassup, Arm’. you ain’t been here in a minute.” connie chuckled, patting his back. “ight, let’s go.”

and there you were, sitting on the bench by yourself, simply because ony dragged you there. sasha and mikasa had extra work to do that day, so you were the only girl there. you didn’t have a problem with it tho, because you knew everyone there.

“want me to watch and he can’t even make the shot.” you whispered to yourself with a small chuckle, pulling out your phone to find something better to entertain yourself with.

after about an hour, yeah, an hour of being there for no reason, you saw someone coming over to you. you looked up to see armin. he sat at the bench, a few inches away from you, wiping his sweat and checking his phone.

“you good?” you frowned a little. “yeah.” he mumbled. you hummed, guessing he didn’t really wanna have a conversation with you at the moment.

“ain’t you ony girl?” he tilted his head. “i thought you was in our lil group. no, we not together.” you shook your head, watching the rest of the boys continue to play basketball.

“um, thank you for defending me or whatever at school. i hate when boys do the shit they do.” you said. “don’t even mention it.” he mumbled. you looked at him for a minute before something caught your eye. “you got a scratch.” you pointed to his finger.

“hm.” he looked at you.

you smacked your lips and pointed, grabbing his hand. “a scratch.” you said before looking closer. “oh, that’s glass. you ain’t feel that?” you asked, sitting his hand on your lap and trying to get the glass out by yourself.

he didn’t really mind it, so he let you, despite the small amounts of pain that shot through his finger every time you touched it.

“nah. not until you pointed it out.” he mumbled, leaning back.

you threw the small shard of glass under the bench and reached in your small purse, grabbing a bandaid.

“you actually keep bandaids in yo purse?” he asked. you shrugged with a small smile. “i know y’all boys be easy to scratch up.” you said, rubbing the bandaid on his finger before letting go of his hand.

armin looked at you for a few seconds before humming. “that’s prolly just me.”

you laughed and shook your head. “well. you ain’t sweating no more. you could go back out there.” you pointed, right before jean called him back on the court.

armin smacked his lips a little and nodded slowly, standing up and walking over to the rest of the boys.

you decided to watch them start playing again, glancing at a different person every time someone stole or passed the ball. it was a few minutes back in, some people took their shirts off. but only one caught your eye.

‘he that fit?’ you thought to yourself, seeing armin’s abs and arms. his arms had a little muscle, and of course he wasn’t buff buff. but it did look like he worked out a little. or more than that.

you continued to watch them play, your eyes never leaving him.

even when he glanced back at you, standing to the side of one of their dumb free throws.

his lip quirked a half smile a little before he got back to playing. and again, minutes passed, a lot of minutes, to hours. that’s when everyone finally decided to go home.

“come on, y/n.” ony yawned, grabbing his things. the streetlights were on now, and everyone was getting tired. you were about to stand up until you heard the basketball bouncing again.

“i’m… just gon stay here wit’ armin til he wanna leave. i’ll text you when i get home.” you mumbled.

“ight. be safe.” ony flicked your forehead before walking out of the gate with connie.

you hummed and looked back over to armin who just dribbled and shot the ball for a few more minutes. that was until he sighed, making one last shot and letting the ball fall, turning around.

you saw him pause, probably being jumpscared by how you were just sitting there, before holding his chest and letting out a deep sigh. “what the fuck?” he walked over to you. “why you still here?” he asked, grabbing his things.

“ian want you to be alone. duh.” you got up as he grabbed his things. you grabbed your purse and phone, waiting on armin to finish packing his stuff.

“you coulda just went home.”

“i know that.”

“don’t you got some typa curfew?” armin asked, starting to walk. you walked beside him. “no, and you do?” you looked up at him. “nah. i just think it’s weird how you would randomly wait for me. no problem wit it tho. ‘preciate it.” he said.

“cus ion want you to be here alone.” you said as you both left the gate and started to walk down the street.

“well how you gettin home? i know you live on the other side of the block.” he mumbled. “the good side.”

you smacked your lips with a smile. “ion live on the good side. shit still happens there. the neighborhood still boring as fuck. i just… don’t pay attention to it.” you shrugged.

you continued to walk and talk until you both made it to armin’s house.

armin suddenly stopped. “we gon have to go around.”

“why?”

“ion want you walkin home alone.”

“why would i be walking home alone if my house is right behind the fence of yours?” you started walking to the side, and backyard of his house.

“hol’ up, huh?”

“hold on, lift me.” you grabbed the top of the fence. “uh.. okay.” armin muttered, letting you step on his hands.

when you were halfway across, you sat there for a second.

“thanks for walking me home.” you smiled a little, hopping down and walking towards your own house, leaving armin confused.

“well damn.” he pursed his lips together, picking his things back up and walking towards his house.

after that… well, you don’t even remember. all you know is, that was the one time you two got close.

the one time, just for now.

part two here!

[diamondpantiess]

logan howlett x mutant!reader

this is porn without a plot, but this is the idea i had when writing her. they had a very big fight she left for a while days months years WHO KNOWS!!, comes back, and they FUCK. BAM!! enjoy you horny freaks!! 🤟🏽

warnings: no proofread, female body reader, reader has their nips pierced, pussy slapping, degrading, no use or mention of a condom (WRAP YOUR SHIT STUPID) readers a little freak towards the end, chocking and squirting if you squint, breeding kink, cumplay for sure, please lmk if i missed anything 💋

the mansion was quiet, everyone was out for a field trip today and it was peaceful. coming up the stairs and rounding the corner you saw your bedroom door, walking forwards you made sure to keep quiet as you knew he’d be there.

looking to see logan laid out on your neatly made bed in his dark jeans, white tank top and flannel like always. you admired for a moment and smiled at the sight of him, tired with half lidded eyes looking up at the ceiling. his one hand cuddled a stuffed animal close to his chest, a little yellow duck he’d won at the state fair for you, and the other laid out to his right.

“you better not have your dirty shoes on my bed, grandpa.” you spoke crossing your arms over your chest, and leaning against the doorframe. he whipped his head towards the sound of your voice, throwing the stuffed animal, he nearly tripped trying to get over to you and enveloping your body in his arms.

that same feeling from almost years ago was back, you felt at home, safe and comfortable here. you really didn’t want to leave again, missing it a little. he inhaled your sent and squeezed tighter, holding the back of your head in his large hands. a heavy sigh of relief left logan’s lips as you smiled into his chest.

“god, i’ve missed you. so much, i’ve missed you so much. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have even looked at her. it was stupid, i’m so stupid. i’m sorry, Bub.” logan huffed out in one breath pulling back to look at my face, you weren’t mad anymore you had plenty of time to grow and get over it.

storm was right, she just needed some time. he thought as you invaded by accident.

“i love you.” you spoke with a smile as he chuckled lightly, pulling you back into a hug. “i love you so much.” logan said kissing the top of your head repeatedly.

“you will never be my second choice, in this world or the next. I love you.” Logan huffed once more as you pulled away from him, a soft smiled played on your face.

reaching down to unzip your boots, toeing them off and plopping on your bed. be had a look of confusion placed on his face, like he knew something but didn’t want to assume. a beat of silence fell between us, as you closed the door and locked it without touching it. logan’s eyes lite up at the sound as he reached for his belt buckle, and you shrugged your own coat off next.

“you fucked someone else, didn’t ya?” logan unfortunately asked, placing both hands on either side of your body, and leaning forward to place a kiss to my cheek. you didn’t want to answer but you didn’t want to lie like before, this was new and you wanted change, good change.

so you exhaled softly, letting your body relax before answering. he nudged your cheek with his nose as he placed kisses softly along your neck, then down to your exposed collarbone.

“mmhm.” you moaned licking your lips as you laid back onto your bed, he followed and his lips basically ran after your neck.

“i can smell it, but that’s okay we can fix that.” logan spoke implying that he’d fuck you so good, no matter who came after him, you’d smell like him forever. it made your hole clench around nothing as you moaned, hands flying to his shoulders. he pulled back to get a good look at the mess you’d already become, cheeks flushed pink as your hair was sprawled out across the plush whites of your fresh bedsheets.

“they can’t fuck you like i can, huh?” he smiled disappearing back into the nape of your neck, leaving marks in his wake. Oh fuck you’ve missed this, and he was right, they were good but they weren’t him. yet you let him sweat a little until he stopped his actions, and came up for reassurance when you got silence.

“bub?” the nickname made your legs weak. his hands reached for the back of your knees, pulling them around his waist and pushing the pads of his finger into the flesh of your thighs. you smirked reading the thoughts in his head, almost laughing until his right hand came down on your ass forcing your chest into his.

“ouch!” you yelped sending him an annoying glare as he smirked in return.

“you’ve been left and dry for the last year, and this is how you wanna treat your piece of pussy?” you asked sarcastically carding your fingers through the growing greys on the side of his head, logan physically growled sending it straight to your core. he went silence for a second as you watched his face, eyes closed as he tried to hide him inhaling your scent. His nose twitched when he found it, almost edging himself with it.

“they didn’t fuck you good enough to claim this?” logan joked letting his right hand dip between your legs to cup your mound. gasping as he ran his thick thumb over the seam on your jeans, right down the middle of your fold. more silence as you stared at his lips, his thumb disappeared and moved to unbutton your pants next, soon disregarding them on the ground. leaving your bottom half nearly bare as his hands creeped up and under the tank top, stopping just under your breasts.

“i see something’s haven’t changed.” logan smirked talking about my no bra.

fully cupping your bare breasts, his large calloused hand rough against my soft skin. it made your lower stomach burn with want, you needed more of him and now. your lips were back on his in seconds while his other hand repeated the same action to the other breast, moaning into his mouth as your head started to spin.

everything felt so right, and in place with you together like this again. your hands pulled at the hair by his neck, he let out a low groan continuing his work on my breasts finally playing with the hem of your shirt. pulling it over your head breaking the kiss once more, he stood tall above you as you reached out for the bottom of his tank next.

“wait, wait. i’ve missed this.” logan spoke softly, barely above a whisper as he stared down at your nearly bare body. Breasts on full display just for him, the metal through your hard nipples sparkled when the sunlight hit. your legs spread wide enough for him to see the outline on your pussy, wet and nearly throbbing through your panties.

he smiled looking over your body, starting with your face down your neck, admiring the bruises already forming near your collarbone. down the centre of your chest, making sure to take his time with those, and then over your stomach finishing with your cunt. slick soaked through the thin cotton thong, dripping down your barely covered hole and over the second one.

“like the gods carved you from the finest stone, and sent you to me.” logan spoke running a hand over his mouth, already pussy drunk without even a sip. your smile never left your face with his words, they had you giggling and only something he could do.

he finally reached a hand out, both hands. one held your knee open as the thumb of the other ran over your covered folds, slowly until he reached your clit. running tight small circles over it, your body felt like it was on fire almost immediately.

“logan..” you whined bitting your lip and reaching for his wrist, as if you were already sensitive.

“oh, my poor baby.” he laughed as you peaked an eye open to see him physically pouting, you mimicked his expression but mine was sincere.

“i’ve barely touched you, and you’re complaining?” logan laughed again continuing his actions, you clenched around nothing again, bucking your hips up a couple times before he removed his hand. you gasped at the loss, and then gasped louder when his hand come down on my pussy, eyes wide as you arched my back off the bed.

“i fear she’s been neglected since you’ve been gone.” he spoke and you nodded, answering a question he wasn’t even asking. logan scuffed and repeated his action, laying a hard hand on your cunt. the slap echoed throughout the room, coming back into your ears, and he did it again, and then again until you closed your legs.

“uh, fuck!” you moaned feeling your high creep up.

“baby, we just started. don’t get soft on me now.” logan said leaning down to remove your underwear, the cool breeze of the room felt amazing against my burning skin. you sighed at the sensation, until he brought his fingers to your hole. teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his middle finger, moving around your entrance finally pushing his thick large finger in.

“just as tight as i remember. fucking pathetic, no one as big as me, huh?” logan teased struggling to get a second finger in, you nodded shamelessly at his words. eyes squeezed shut at the burning feeling you missed so much, and loved how right he was.

logan’s finger finally moved, pumping in and back out again. repeating the slow pace until his fingers were covered in enough slick to go deeper. two finger was just enough to keep your orgasm from washing over you to early, you were in perfect bliss at this moment. you pushed your hips along with the rhythm of his fingers, enjoying the slight burn.

logan was having fun at the sight below him, his woman was back where she belonged, already fucked out and we weren’t even started. he licked his thumb without my noticed and pushed it against your clit, your mouth opened but nothing came from it. enjoying the tension he built in the pit of your stomach, soon replacing his left thumb with the warm feeling of his mouth. you moaned in satisfaction together, his tongue flattened of the bundle of nerves as he stared up at your face.

with mostly breasts in the way, he still enjoyed the view he got, logan’s fingers continued their assume on my tight hole. as your hand reached for his hair, pushing his face further into your messy pussy, the lewd sounds of him eating filled the empty room. it was music to your ears, but you didn’t last long with his mouth on your clit. The wall had broke soon after, and you came all over his face, soaking his chops and the floor below.

logan stood up with his fingers still inside, as he looked down at the most perfect image below. squirt covered his fingers while he moved them in and out, after it stopped he pulled his fingers out slowly watching your hole flutter and moaning at the loss of his fingers.

“bet you still taste the same?” logan jokingly asked as you came down from my high still, half lidded you watched him stick both fingers in his mouth and moan around them. you smiled, leaning up and reaching out for his wrist pulling those same fingers towards you mouth as he happily accepted.

logan watched as you held his wrist and sucked the tips of his fingers into your mouth, staring up at him through my lashes.

“you miss me, pretty?” you asked and his eyes widened slightly, he’s never had anyone call him that. he was always the one doing the talking during this kinda stuff, but he nodded as you wrapped my lips around his thick fingers, swallowing them whole until the tips hit the back of your throat. he swallowed thickly at the feeling, he doesn’t remember it being like this last time.

“fuck, c’mere!” logan growled again pulling his fingers from your mouth and wrapping a hand around your neck, bringing his lips to yours as he fell back onto the bed. your hands fumbled with the button, and zipper on his jeans as he pulled them off with his boxers, the length of him grazed your cunt as it sprung out of his pants.

his hand left your neck and fisted his cock, letting his lips off yours he looked down to line his tip up with your weeping hole. pushing just the tip in as you reached for his shoulders, after all the prep he gave you still weren’t ready for him, but he pushed in inch by inch until last bit.

“oh fuck, you feel amazing.” you smiled placing a hand on the side of his face, watching as he stopped his movements. “you feel even better.” he told placing a kiss to your lips, hovering over as you locked eyes and he pushed the rest of his length into your tight little hole.

he waited, and gave you time to adjust to him, it had been awhile since you had something this big. his hand ran over the supple skin of your thighs, as yours laid above your head with your chest rising and falling. panting with the lovely burn he brought to your hole, you nodded once ready, and he pulled his hips back slowly. leaving just the tip before he slide back in, repeating his actions until he found a solid rhythm.

snapping his hips against your pelvis, over and over again with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass. your breasts bounced over his bare chest, as his lips found your neck again. logan’s hands held your legs open for him so his large torso could fit between your frame, logan’s arm reached under your ass and manhandled your legs over his shoulders. hitting it from a deeper angle now, you yelped his name at the slightly change in position. but your pussy loved it, squeezing around him as he nearly turned blue in the face.

“shit, yer squeezing me so tight.” he huffed as if out of breath from it, hunching over and shutting his eyes to compose himself.

the control made your pussy wetter, and did it again causing him to lose his footing slightly and accidentally jerk his hips forward out of rhythm. the concentration on his face was so cute as he let go of your body, and placed either hand on the bed. doing it again, getting the same reaction but he caught on the third time.

“i’m not gonna last long if you keep tightenin’ up like that, sweets.” logan held your hips as a warning, but you didn’t listen and did it once more.

"fuck fine." he mumbled snapping his hips back until just the tip was in, and then slammed into you. repeating it twice more until you cracked and moaned his name, over again.

"oh, she likes it." he spoke softly mainly to himself, and barley above a whisper. he pounded you into the mattress, almost leaving a perfectly permanent imprint in it. skin slapping against skin echoed through out the bedroom, thank god no one was home.

“log-“

“oh I know baby.” he didn't need to hear words because he understood. but right now all he wanted to hear was those pretty little moans, those

sounded like heaven to him.

removing your legs from his shoulders he leaned back, holding your legs open. he switched between staring at your tits bouncing with every thrust he made, and your pussy stretching around his cock. a few more thrusts and he was ready but didn't want to just yet, he needed this to last a little longer. so he slowed his pace and rolled his hips, angling them downwards and going deeper.

"log-oh fuck!" you let out loudly propping yourself up on your elbows to look down, the prettiest sight. his cock perfectly stretching your pussy out, and that creamy white ring forming around the base. your legs spread open just for him as he couldn't take his eyes off you, and yours.

"cum in me, baby." you moaned and his hips stuttered slightly falling out of rhythm, but he soon found it. he swallowed hard and looked down at you surprised by your words, almost ignoring them. "don’t ignore me now." you pouted and stared up at him with blown out, lush filled eyes reaching for his hand to palm my right breast.

"baby-" he mumbled, but couldn't finish his sentence because he watched as you reached down, and placed the right index and middle finger around the base of his cock. running it over your folds, and collecting as much of our mixed fluids before bringing both fingers to your mouth sucking them clean and dry.

he didn't have much time to think before his hips stuttered again, and he was on the edge. “cum in me, logan." his eyes slipped shut and he kept that same pace from before, this time adding his left thumb back to my clit. continuing his attack on your clit, keeping his pace you clenched around him tighter than before, sucking him closer as the fire in your belly started burning again.

"i’m almost there." you moaned taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you lowered your gaze to watch his cock disappear inside you. “me too baby, me too." you felt logan’s dick twitch and his hips lost rhythm for a moment, he was trying so hard to calculate this perfectly so he wouldn't cum in you.

down to the last second.

"c'mere." you noticed mumbling, you reached for the back of his neck and pulled his lips against yours. yours hips meet his thrusts as he moaned into your mouth, his named slipped from your lips like a chant.

"cum inside me, logan. do it." you said, he tried so hard to pull away, and let himself go all over your stomach like he should.

"i know you want to. just do it, cum inside me." i said again pulling his lips back on yours. he groaned low as if it was a warning, but you just continued to egg him on.

"i know my pretty boy wants to. cum inside me." you said, he groaned your name one last time before painting your walls, hot spirts of cum filled your pussy and you were soon to follow him. logan stayed inside for a moment before pulling out to kneel in front of you, cum dripping from your pussy as he watched in awe. legs still spread wide open I sighed in relief, while my body jerked from my orgasm.

his head laid on your thigh watching your hole flutter, breathing heavily as you watched him reach out and finger his cum back into your pussy. whining at the sensitivity, knowing you’d hurt for a couple days because he probably bruised your cervix.

"you’re everything." he spoke softly reaching for a couple tissues on the nightstand, wiping up any excess cum he couldn't get in you.

"so are you." you told him honestly as he disregarded the tissue on the floor, you moved further up the bed so you could lay comfortably together. he laid his head on your chest, holding your soft hips in his large hands as you cradled the back of his head in yours, enjoying a long pleasant moment of silence before you ruined it.

"so round two in the shower?" you asked and he huffed a laugh, but quickly got up already rocking a hard on.

"freaky little thing, ain’t ya?” he smiled standing tall as you nodded and shrugged your shoulders, logan scuffed grabbing your hips and flinging you over his shoulder taking us to your private bathroom.

a/n: please don’t judge I WILL CRY, this is my first time to ever post so i’m a little nervy. two people asked for this so here it is, ps english is not my first language so my everything might not be the best 🤍 thank you

[c0smopolitan]

Welcome and goodbye part 1

A/n: This has been put off for too long😭 I had this sitting in drafts for ages because I kinda hated it but I’ve had a change of heart so here you go. Don’t know when part two will be because I’m busy with two new James fics so if I get to it, I’ll lyk. Only proofread once so probably some mistakes, if there is I will fix later. Thanks!

Summary: you find out Sirius cheated on you, but maybe there’s more to the story.

Warnings: angst, no interaction with Sirius yet, reader is sad, Sirius is sad. Sirius Black x f!reader F/n means friends name

It was hard to ignore the marauders now that you and Sirius had broken up. They were your friends too, but they were Sirius’ friends first.

James tried everything to get you to talk with him, but you think he’d gotten the hint when you slammed the door in his face.

You felt guilty but you shouldn’t. He cheated on you, and no amount of love you had for him could fix that.

F/n was starting to get worried about you. You had missed the last week of classes on the excuse that you were sick but everyone knew it wasn’t true. The news of your breakup with Sirius was everywhere, everyone knew.

“Y/n please just get up!” She groaned, grabbing your arm trying to pull you out of bed.

“I don’t wanna see him F/n.” You cry out.

She drops your arm causing you to fall back on your bed. “Cmon Y/n, please.”

You look up to see her looking at you pleadingly. “I haven’t even seen him since.” She deadpanned. You groaned.

“he’s probably just as depressed as you are." You roll your eyes. He cheated on you. He doesn’t deserve to be upset. “Ok, I’ll get up.” You sigh getting up from your bed and getting ready.

The walk to potions seemed like an eternity. Everyone was looking at you. Girls whispering to their friends about the scandal and people giving you dirty looks. When you arrive to the door everyone is already looking at you. James' eyes widen as you walk past him and sit in your normal seat.

James abruptly gets up from his seat and sits down next you. “James, not now.” You sigh. He looks at you desperately. “Please Y/n,” he grabs your hand, and you turn to look at him. “Please just let Pads explain, he won’t leave his room.”

You pulled your hand back.

He frowns at the motion but continues. “He’s gone mental and I really can’t take his late night crying anymore.” Your heart constricted in it’s chest. He’s crying over you?

You shake your head. “There’s nothing to explain,” Slughorn walks into class. “He cheated on me.”

Class ends and you quickly make your way outside. Free periods feel like your only escape now that your relationship is all everyone talks about. You make your way into forbidden forest, a place you’ve always gone to when you needed solace.

Second year was an especially hard year for you so you made a small hut where you would lie down to think.

Later on, you brought Moony after you discovered he was a werewolf.

Imagine your surprise when you find him tucked in a corner reading a book on transfiguration.

He looks up at the sudden noise and smiles at you. “Hey N/n,” He shuffles out of his position and scoots over leaving room for you to sit. “Hey Moony.” You crawl over to where he left you space and sit down.

You look at him to see him already looking at you. You groan outwardly and he laughs. “I’m not here to coax you into forgiving Padfoot,” you smile gratefully. “Although you should hear him out N/n,” You frown.

“I know you might hate him right now, but he’s not a monster. I don’t think he would purposely cheat on you.” He purses his lips. “He’s just an idiot who has a tendency of making dumb and irreparable mistakes.” He says sheepishly.

“Rem,” your frown grew deeper, “I could never hate him.” He raised his brows. “I love him too much. That's not something that's going to go away in a couple of days. I just can’t believe he would ruin our relationship for a hookup.” He winced because he knew you were right; he did ruin his relationship for a hookup.

“Hear him out love, I know you might not want to forgive him but let him explain, let him have his closure so he can stop whinging please.” He spoke exasperated and you laughed.

“Alright.”

He looked at you surprised.

“Really?” You nodded. “Yea, really.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in a hug. “Thank you, Y/n.” You release yourself from his hug to make your way out. You stop before you exit completely. “This is for me, not for him.” He nods and you leave the hut making your way back to school.

tags: @bruher @bullets-from-another-dimension @onyxwingsandcrowblackdreams @princessofsilverandserpents

[lexawoah13]

CHOISOME PART 4

Part 3

FINALLY!

I’m back with Part 4! Not gonna lie I kinda struggled a bit with part… I hope it’s okay and thank you for being patient with me 🫶

If you like this series please like and reblog! That helps so much for others to see it ❤️

Soobin x Yeonjun x Beomgyu x afab!reader(older)

Warning: threesome, drinking, oral sex(female recieving), ass play, cliche truth or dare, possessive Soobin, y/n Is older than them, this probs sucks so ✌️ also not really proofread

“Alright princess” he chuckles bringing you to the couch so you torso is leaning on the back, your ass perked up off the edge giving Gyu plenty of access on his knees.

Yeonjun can’t help but chuckle, especially seeing how bothered Soobin is. “Enjoying the show?” Soobin flips him off. Yeonjun sending a finger heart as he makes his way over. Soobin left to watch and sulk.

Your entirety was exposed to Beomgyu as he sat back taking in your beautiful curves. He starts massaging his hands into your thick thighs, followed by kisses trailing your lower back and rear. Unable to hold back any longer, he digs his fingers into your plump cheeks and spreads them, seeing Soobins cum drip from your still pulsing cunt.

“Fuck” he whispers in a breath before diving in and starts devouring your pussy

You can’t hold back the groan or shivers ripping through your body “gggaanng Gyuuu”

Yeonjun is in front of you now, stroking his hard member watching you in your pleasure. He lowers himself to take your lips with his, swallowing your beautiful sounds licking your lips as he pulls away.

“Ready for me again sweetheart?” Squishing your cheeks tight and making you look at him. You can only nod and groan your want for him. Loosening his grip on your cheeks he rubs his tip across you glistening lips “good girl” smiling and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in only the way Choi Yeonjun can

Looking into his soul you kitten lick his tip, already sensitive. Circling your tongue around him until you run the wet muscle along the underside of his cock, enclosing around his head after a teasing flick.

“Hoo-holy Fawwkk y/n… Jesus” Yeonjun moans from deep in his chest

Beomgyu pops up for a second, seeing Yeonjuns face contorted in pleasure trying to hold back. The men make eye contact silently communicating.

“Actually I think our princess should be taken care of you first” taking you chin to pull you off of his dick. “After all, you took such good care of us earlier” Yeonjun kisses your lips while Gyu moves softly pressing open mouth kisses up your spine and tracing his fingers along your curves.

Yeonjun moves you to stand, front facing Soobin sitting on your bed, getting down onto his knees before you. His seductive gaze never leaving yours. Lifting your leg and leaving kisses from your ankle to your thigh, he places it over his shoulder, resting on the arm of the couch, spreading you wide open for him.

Beomgyu moves to his knees behind you. Resuming his earlier caressing to your thick ass. Drooling at your openness, getting to see your entirety at a new angle. His cock twitches, “Jesus Hyung, hurry up. I need to taste her again” he says with desperation in his voice.

“Huh… I never did get a real taste of you did i love?” He remembers the saccharine taste of you on his juniors lips. “I think it’s time i get a real taste. Don’t you?” He asks looking up at you, pouting.

Licking your lips you reply nodding “mmm yes Junnie. fuck Yeonjun just-“ not able to resist his words anymore you grab him by his hair, shoving his face into your dripping cunt. The moment his lips make contact with yours you release a heavenly moan. Yeonjun can’t help but return the sound, indulging in not only how you taste, but the smell of you. The smell of your already abused and messy cunny, soaked with not only yours, but also Soobin’s cum. Soobin’s mark on you. Your forbidden fruit.

With the flat of his tongue, Yeonjun licks a slow trail from your leaking hole to your clit, ending with a flick to your swollen bud. He wraps his plump lips around you, sucking to simultaneously flicking your precious jewel. Feeling your grip tighten on his hair, his tongue reaches lower to prod at your opening, tasting the mixture of yours and Soobin’s fluids. Melodic groans vibrate against your core sending even more pleasure through you.

Beomgyu can’t wait any longer and buries his face back between your cheeks. Tongue meeting Yeonjun’s at your pulsing hole to taste you again.

The feeling of the both of them devouring you is euphoric. The knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter, grinding yourself on their faces, needing more. Needing Gyu deeper, you bring your hand around to lift up your cheek, stretching yourself out more for him. As you do so though, you can’t ignore the eyes burning into you. Looking up to the Man who wrecked you moments ago, fisting himself again roughly, not happy that he’s in timeout. You can’t help but tease him just a little, biting your lip and squeezing your breast with your free hand. Soobin’s eyes narrow, intently watching you and your body, craving to touch you again. Knowing that he should be the one making you feel good.

Beomgyu breaks away from the tag team on your cunt, moving his efforts to his original desire. Warmth encircles your puckered hole, a new sensation overtaking you. Almost at your precipice, you whimper sweet sounds.

“Mm M’ gonna cum- oh god m’ so close” you whine, moving your hips against their soft wet tongues.

Gyu loves your whiny state and begins to push into your entrance. Releasing even more sounds from you. Yeonjun reattaches those beautiful puffy lips to your clit, licking with undeniable skill, alternating speeds and movements to bring you to your peak. Pushing you to your climax, Yeonjun enters you with his ring and middle fingers, curling perfectly to make you erupt. Shuddering as the band breaks in your stomach, Gyu tightens his grip on you, hard enough that you’ll have purple marks there tomorrow. Mewling their names on unsteady legs, Yeonjun grabs your hip, using their faces to ride out your climax without falling.

“Fuck princess, so fucking sexy” Gyu pants out pressing kisses along your things and drinking any of your juices running down them. Yeonjun wipes his face with his thumb, sure to not waste any.

“Y/N baby” gyu stands to speak along your ear “can I fuck your perfect ass now? Please” he whines “need to be in you”

Yeonjun flips you back onto the couch to let you rest. “Seriously Beom? You’re done already?”

“I never said you had to stop! Fuck i just want to feel her around my cock”

“I’m still hungry, ‘m gonna need another taste. That okay pretty?” Yeonjun coos caressing your cheek

Both males reigniting the heat and desire within you. They’re words and touches bringing you to a moaning, quivering mess.

“What’dya say princess?” Beomgyu whispers in kisses along your hip bone

“Mmmm yes- yes please”

Beomgyu positions you to sit up, leaning to your side slightly, legs fully spread and open for the both of them. Beomgyu wastes no time before he dives back in. Spitting on your cunt to assist his tongue in his ministrations.

Yeonjun pulls you in for a messy kiss. Tongues colliding, tasting yourself on him. It doesn’t last long but it’s enough to have your pussy clenching on nothing.

Yeonjun kisses his decent down your neck, between your breasts, down your navel until he reaches your puffy Clit. Attaching his swollen soft lips around it, beginning you suck and lick.

Once again, the feeling of them eating you alive is too much. Already overstimulated from the last round. Your hips buck unconsciously and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten again. You sit up slightly to watch, Beomgyu between your legs and Yeonjun meeting him head first at your clit. The sight is incredible, whimpering you start caressing your breasts. Still watching Gyu peaks up at you and smirks “ready?”

You nod rapidly causing him to chuckle at your need “m’gonna prep you” he pulls back and so does Yeonjun wanting to watch. Gyu spits down on your cunt, letting it drip down to your tight hole. Sucking his fingers to lubricate them as well. “Ready princess?”

“Mmm yes please Gyu” you whine, wanting to feel him already.

Beomgyu presses gently against your hole, slowly pushing in until he reaches his first knuckle. Looking at you for your reaction and making sure it’s okay. Much to his relief your head is thrown back and moans leave your lips. Satisfied you’re okay he continues pushing in until he’s 3 knuckles deep. Pumping in and out to loosen you up.

Yeonjun kisses your hips while watching before he returns to your clit.

“I’m gonna add another okay?” Gyu asks sweetly even though his gaze is anything but. His eyes are dark and full of lust as his fantasy turns to reality.

“Mmm” you nod wiggling your hips a bit up into yeonjuns mouth

“Fuck” a whispered grunt comes from across the room and suddenly you remember Soobin is watching. You look over to him, his torso flexed as he’s roughly stroking his member. Seeing Soobin adds to your increasing pleasure. With Beomgyu stretching you and Yeonjun eating you alive your orgasm is rapidly approaching.

“You’re doing so good for me Y/N” gyu kisses down you lifted leg in praise “just 1 more kay?”

Yeonjun wraps his arms around you to grip your cheeks and spread you further

“Mmhmm ‘m ready” you nod watching him kiss your leg

His final kiss ends with a bite as he adds the third finger. The stretch and bite make you hiss in pain. “Just a little more baby you’re doing so good for me” Beomgyu praises as he pushes in a little further. Yeonjun parts with your clit to observe you, making sure you’re okay, replacing his tongue with his fingers, softly circling your abused bud.

The look of pain on your face alerts Soobin, stopping his stroking and making sure you’re okay. He knows his friends are watching you to but it’s not that same, they’re too into it to really tell if you’re okay. Soobins eyes watch every hint of movement you make. Face contorting slightly, fist squeezing, every breath that hitched in your throat. He knows you’re okay but it doesn’t hurt him any less. Wanting to comfort you, he stands, by your side with a couple of his long strides. He pulls your hair back, maneuvering himself behind you to rub your lower back. “You’re doing so good baby. So so good” he whispers in your ear, his encouragement helping subside the discomfort from the stretch and pull.

“Binnie.,,” you whine, looking up at him, head tipped back as he supports you.

“Hi bunny” he whispers against your temple, punctuating with a kiss.

That little kiss helped you relax, allowing gyu to finally fill you with his fingers, twirling them around and scissoring inside you slightly. Feeling him rub certain spots pulls soft moans from you

“Looks like you’re all ready princess”

“‘m ready gyu”

Beomgyu begins lubricating himself, lining up with you. Yeonjun is attached to your nipple, Soobin still at your side.

The moment Beomgyu starts to push in a gravely ‘fuck’ leaves his lips in a breath. Your mouth opens, face contorting in slight pain laced with bliss. Tipping your hips up, Beomgyu thrusts deeper, and deeper. Grunts and moans filling the air around you. “Fuck y/n you feel so good” picking up in pace

Soobin and Yeonjun start to jerk their cocks from the sight. Both jealous that they aren’t buried in you right now. “God bunny you’re doing so well” Soobin praises while Yeonjun calls you “such a good girl”.

You turn your head to see them, clenching around nothing and whining at the sight.

“Want you, more… pleaseee” reaching to them

“Fuck y/n stop squeezing so tight or I’ll cum” gyu gasps

“Really want it that bad huh pretty?” Yeonjun coos, coming forward and pushing the hair out of your eyes, hard dick right in front of your mouth. Licking out your tongue to taste him again. Whining when you can’t quite reach him. “Mmm please Jun”

“Anything you want sweetheart” he lowers to peck your lips before turning to Beomgyu “flip her ov-“

“No, her pussy is mine!” Soobin cuts him off

“Oh come on Soobin you can’t be serious, look at her”

“No she said it, she said she’s mine” gyu pulls out, waiting out the argument

“What the fuck Soobin you can’t just claim her! this started because she wanted all of us, not just you! Plus you just heard her she asked for me!”

Just as Soobin is about to snap at Yeonjun you grab is wrist “please Binnie. Just this once. They started this together, let me finish it with them”

You beg him “then I’m all yours Binnie”

Looking deep into your eyes he can see the desire from your fucked out state, but he can also see you mean it.

He kneels down to kiss you softly, “okay” he whispers

Standing, He turns back to Yeonjun “you can’t cum in her, you understand?” Stating firmly

Smirking Yeonjun pats him in the shoulder “good boy, give her what she wants”

“Cum in her and you’re dead”

“Alright chill, I won’t “

“You better make this worth it hyung. Don’t disappoint her” Soobin smirks, returning to you to help get you situated. Sitting up, Yeonjun sits next to you “you sure about this? You want me, not Soobin?” Suddenly doubting himself

“Junnie, it’s been the 3 of us all along. I’m sure” you say before pushing him to him back and crawling up him.

“Coming gyu?” You ask over your shoulder

[farfromstrange]

Are You Okay? | Matt Murdock x Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)

Masterlist

Summary: Sometimes, all you need to hear is one question and one person to make your shitty day not so shitty anymore.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, fear of failure, not proofread (I put Grammarly over that bitch, but that's it), no y/n

A/n: I wrote this in an hour because I'm stressed as fuck and my state of mind is so complicated right now, I didn't know how else to explain it. Also, why is statistics such a bitch to study? And what do I care about fucking behaviorism? I'm already done with Freud and Piaget and those get on my last nerve already, I don't need Bandura to add to my emotional despair, but oh well, here we are. This is completely self-indulgent and I channeled what's happening in my school life into this one, so if it doesn't fit with the American school system, I'm sorry, but I didn't want to research.

Word Count: 2.7k

You’ve been locked in your room for the majority of the past week, the study notes of the past semester strewn around you, and you swore at the beginning of the week that you would revise every last note at least once. In the end, you panicked more than you studied, but you managed to summarize about half of your notes, which should fill you with glee, but as you stare down at your stack of cards, you’re filled with dread and the purest form of self-hatred. What did you do the entire week that you only got so far? You left your room once, but it was a short walk around the block to air your head, with still many hours of the day left to spare. You swore you would get everything you needed to be done, and you swore to yourself that the next five weeks of exam season were going to be your bitch, but looking at the calendar now you realize, those five weeks still lay ahead of you and you are not even nearly done with everything you swore you would get done. 

Your head screams, “Failure!” And you’re starting to think that maybe your head is right. Maybe you are lazy and that is why your grades have been dropping or your teachers are disappointed or you just can’t seem to get the information into your thick skull even though someone once told you, “You can do it!” You figure that was a lie too. There is no way you can manage to ace all your upcoming tests and the final exams, and part of you is starting to fear you might not be able to graduate. There is too much in your head, too much stress, and too much performance anxiety, but as you look around yourself you don’t realize why you’re so stressed - in your head, it appears as if you spent the entire week playing video games and did the bare minimum, and not even that did you manage. You really don’t understand how you can be stressed and not even halfway done with all of your schoolwork. You’re stressed about being stressed, and you’re stressed about studying so you try to study, but your head blacks out and the day suddenly doesn’t have enough hours for you to think about yourself and the work you have to do, so you just sit back and stare at an empty page in the hopes the words will come out and you can just memorize all of the fucking information on your study notes. You don’t want to be the best, you’ve given up on that, but you want to pass, you need to pass because damn, you want to get out, you want to move on and get out and get on with life, but the load keeps getting bigger and your grades keep swindling. How can the load get bigger when you haven’t left your room in a week, and how did you not manage to finish revising all of your notes even though you definitely had the time and the means? You don’t understand and at this point, you have resorted to watching trash tv to keep your mind from reeling, but even that seems not enough anymore. You can’t eat without upsetting your stomach and the thought of going back to class the next day, having to study more and revise more, and the end moves closer and closer, but never close enough, and the entire pile of documents, anxiety, and stress starts to bury you alive. You can’t remember a second you allowed yourself to properly breathe, to stop your thoughts from racing and focusing on something else. You can’t remember a time you allowed yourself a step away from studying or procrastinating and freeing your head so you can get back to work with newfound energy. All of that seems so… impossible now. You want to pass, but your head keeps telling you that you won’t. You won’t pass. You will fail and everyone will hate you because you will be the only one. You’re scared, you’re terrified even and you can’t do this anymore. You want out of your body, out of your mind, and out of this life just for a second, just until the worst is over and everything has resolved itself. 

You know that’s not possible. 

Your friends are emotionally unavailable, busy with themselves, mostly, and your family is as annoying as ever. No one’s asked about you, most of them have dodged your messages or answered with a clear, “Sorry, we can’t.” It feels as if no one can help you out of this hole you’ve dug for yourself, so you decide to sit in it and wait for the dirt to swallow you. 

Your skin tingles, you’re tired and there is this overwhelming urge to cry. You miss being touched, you miss being taken care of, but there is no time and you just can’t ask. The one person you can ask is across campus and has no idea what’s going on because you told him you’d need the week to study, so he told you he’d leave you alone until then. It’s Sunday now. He hasn’t called or texted and you’re starting to wonder if he’s sick of you as you are of yourself. 

Before the thoughts can turn any darker, and they have gotten significantly darker, there is a knock on your door. You probably smell disgusting, your room is a mess and you should have opened a window, but it’s significantly colder outside today, there is snow and you just hate the way everything but your blanket and the new episodes of America’s Next Top Model make you feel. You’ve driven yourself so far into loneliness, you’re starting to believe that this is actually just who you’re supposed to be. 

You get off the makeshift seating area among your study notes off the floor and walk to the door. You don’t bother checking who’s outside. If it is a murderer, at least you can miss your exams and not feel guilty, and the general heavy pain that drags your soul down to your feet and keeps it there would finally go away. 

Seeing Matt Murdock’s face at your door doesn’t surprise you, you simply step aside and let him in. doesn’t say anything, simply taps his can forward until he can find his way into your room. His nostrils flare, but either he doesn’t smell the bucket of untouched fries and garlic sauce on the counter and how you haven’t showered in four days or he’s being respectful about it. You kind of wish he would just flat-out tell you that you smell and probably look like shit, not that he could judge, but he could probably sense with the way everything feels like a mess around him, that would make your guilt and pain so much worse but at least you could feel something else for a change. You’d be hurt, but it would be a different kind of hurt, one that could distract you from the demons gnawing at your heart. 

“You want a drink?” you ask, your voice hoarse from both the lack and the overuse of sleep as a coping mechanism. 

He stands lost in the room, or maybe he’s waiting, you’re not sure. You get a beer for him from the fridge, but instead of drinking it, he takes it and places it back down on the counter. 

You stare at him, a little confused, and maybe your pride is also a little hurt that he would turn down your nice gesture. 

“Are you okay?”

The question confuses you, at first, and you’re not quite sure how to process it. Those three words sound so foreign, the week you’ve been through suddenly feeling like years without him, and as he’s standing before you now, his question awakening something in you, unscrewing the lid and popping the cork, you realize just how much you have missed him. How you have missed this. How you have missed being acknowledged and asked about, even if it was just a simple, “Are you okay?” 

It finally settles in and the question makes you feel a lot of things at once, but none of them are simple, and none of them you can explain, but you know how they make you feel and they definitely answer his question with something he can feel in the way you tense up. 

You bite your lip. “No,” you admit silently, although it feels wrong to say it because why are you not okay? You should be. You have to be.

But Matt isn’t like that. 

“Do you need a hug?” he asks. 

Fuck him, you think. He’s read you better than you could have read yourself. 

You nod again. “Yes.”

“Okay, c’mere.”

As it turns out, a hug is exactly what you needed and half of the uneasiness you have been feeling must have been a serious case of touch starvation.

He opens his arms and allows you to take the first step, and you do. You step forward to lazily drape your arms around him, but he soon wraps you up tightly in his and squeezes you in the way he knows you need. The physical decompression, his fresh smell, the sound of his heartbeat, and his hands roaming your back open the flood gates, and seconds after you are crying heavily into his chest. You unload all of the stress and all of the anxiety, clinging to him for dear life, but he doesn’t mind. He lets you cry, sob and whimper until you’re too weak to stand and even then he only carries you over to your couch and sits down with you in his lap, still holding you like you are a fragile little thing (which you are, now that you think of it) and he refuses to even think about letting you go. 

He kisses your head. You’re still shaking, but there are no more tears to cry. “Why didn’t you call?” he asks you. 

His voice sounds so soft and it makes you whimper again, wiping your eyes on his already wet shirt. “Why didn’t you call?” you bite back. 

“Because you said you wanted to study. I didn’t want to interrupt you, sweetheart. I know how caught up you get and I wanted to give you space. If I had known-”

You can’t help it. You are safe from the world in his arms so you allow yourself to voice the one thought that has been keeping you on edge, “I’m going to fail, Matty.”

He holds your face away from his, feeling your contorted features and the stress wrinkles on your forehead. “What?” 

You only then realize he took off his glasses and you can see his brown eyes perfectly like that. That only makes you shake harder because he cares so damn much and you never have needed him more than you do now.

“I’m going to fail,” you say again, “because I’m useless and dumb and I can’t get anything right. I can’t even get anything done. I’m such a failure and I am going to fail every goddamn test and I am going to fail my finals and I’m-”

Matt shushes you again by taking you in his arms, and a new wave of tears rattles you. “You are not going to fail,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. “You’re not a failure, you’re not dumb and you are not useless. You made it this far. You passed all of your previous classes. You’re almost there, sweetheart,” he says, “so you are not going to fail now.”

“But what if I am?”

“Everything can happen, but you are not going to fail. I know you and that is not what you do.”

“I barely got anything done this week. I swore I’d study, but-”

“How much do you have left?”

You sniffle and look behind you. God, your floor is a mess. “A lot,” you admit. 

“Too much for one day?”

“Probably,” you break off with another sob. He keeps your head upright though. Instead of shushing you, he gets up, kneels on the floor, and touches your study notes. He can’t read them, they’re not in Braille, but he can smell the different highlighters you have used and he can separate the topics accordingly. “It’s the stack on the right, isn’t it?” 

You rub your eyes. “Yes.”

“And that’s what?”

“Statistics, behaviorism and, um… I don’t know, cognitive development, maybe. I can’t remember. God!” Thinking about it makes you nauseous. “I can’t even remember, Matt. I am so going to fail!”

He shakes his head, pursing his lips to shush you softly. His hand motions for you to join him on the floor. With some struggle, he finds the stack you’ve been talking about. He hands it to you. 

“You’re going to take these and spread them out,” he tells you, “While I take care of those you’ve already summarized, alright?”

You stammer, “What?”

“We’re gonna start with statistics. You are going to go through your notes at your speed while you tell me about them, and I’m gonna rub your back while you do. If you need a break,” he says, “We’re gonna take a break. If you wanna stop, we stop. And if you want me to stay until you’re done with both topics, I’ll stay for the boring behaviorism stuff, too.”

Somehow his readiness to help you without even knowing what he, ever the law student, is helping you with makes you cry even harder. He understands you in a way nobody can, and he never pressures you, not even when it comes to your classes. He knows you torture yourself enough and Matt being Matt, he can’t have you being sad. 

He stays true to his promise. He sits behind you, rubbing your back as you go over your notes, summarize them and tell him about them. Statistics are the bane of your existence, but psychology relies on them, so you’re forced to relive the worst module of your life. But with him by your side, telling you every so often, “You are doing such a good job,” and, “I know you can do it, baby,” it’s a lot easier. 

At around eight, your stomach growls, but you are long done with the statistics part and have decided, with some of Matt’s encouraging words, that there is still time tomorrow to get done with behaviorism and then when you’re done with both, he told you, he’d help you memorize. He hasn’t decided how yet, but he is determined and as the sun goes down and you lay in his arms, freshly showered and shaven on your bed, you can’t help but stare at his beautiful face. You would have lost your mind without him, you don’t doubt that, and he somehow always knows when to come and what to do. He knows when you feel down and when you need space. He knows you better than you know yourself and that is something no one but Matt Murdock has ever accomplished. 

Without him, you are pretty sure you would maybe not have failed your classes but you would have failed at life. Your mind would have failed you and you would have drowned. But with him, you’re a little more alive. 

“I love you,” you tell him sometime after he forced you to eat proper dinner, and he gently smiles against your hair. 

“I love you,” he says. “And you are going to do great, I just know it.”

“You have so much faith in me.”

“Well, one of us has to. Besides,” he flips you over so that he can hover over you, his brown hair falling from his face into yours and you giggle at his antics, “I am a good catholic boy. If I didn’t have faith in the divine, where would I be?”

His words leave you gasping, but nothing can match up to the force and passion he kisses you with. Psychology and messy room long forgotten, you melt into his touch and let his hands and lips speak a language only the two of you understand, and they always manage to pull you out of any hole with a symphony that has become your favorite music.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Villains - Epilogue

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Spoilers under the cut. Expect grammatical errors.

Not proofread

(He's really asking me that?)

I couldn't outright reject his favor.

One day is all it took for his kindness to melt my heart.

Kate: What kind of things do you mean by playing?

(This is just like saying, okay.)

Suddenly becoming aware of it, I felt embarrassed and blushed.

Ellis: I'll do everything you want all night long.

Ellis: Like today, we can date, cuddle, and touch each other like this.

He suddenly put his palm on my hand.

Ellis: Your hands are cold. Can I touch them until they get warm?

Without waiting for my reply, he intertwined our fingers and squeezed them tightly.

(It's warm.)

Ellis: It's written on your face that it's okay, so I'm just gonna keep touching you.

Kate: There's no such thing written on my face.

Ellis: Nope, it says that.

He laughed at my attempt to fool him and tilted his head slightly to peek in.

Ellis: Can I kiss you?

Kate: N-No.

Ellis: Really?

His hair tickled my forehead, and our breaths brushed each other.

(Calling it pretending is no different from being a real lover.)

(If he's joking, he needs to quit it already.)

Kate: Do you really like me? Which part of me do you like?

Ellis: The part where you don't want to inconvenience others even when you're injured, the part where you have a pretty smile.

Ellis: The part where you don't notice the jam on your cheeks.

Ellis: The part where you said we'd find my happiness together. Need more? I can say as many as you want.

Kate: !!

Ellis: You're not saying anything.

(Of course, I can't say anything.)

It'd become even more difficult to reject him if I said something.

Ellis: If you don't like it, you can push me away.

Kate: Nn...

Suddenly, our lips touched, and I stared dumbfounded at his thin lips as they quickly moved away.

(I couldn't refuse.)

(On the contrary, I...)

I was filled with guilt for closing my eyes to accept it, but at the same time, I felt awake after our kiss.

(I'm going a little crazy. I need to calm down.)

(If it's true that he likes me, maybe we should continue pretending to be lovers and get to know each other more deeply, but...)

I couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness clinging to me.

(I mean, of course, I still doubt whether he really likes me, but...)

(I feel like this uneasiness is something more than that.)

I felt as if my instincts were whispering that even if his fondness was genuine, I shouldn't get too deep into it.

(I need to step away from him and think about it calmly.)

Kate: Let's not play the lover's game anymore.

I looked straight at him and firmly stated it.

Ellis: Okay. If that's what you want to do, fine.

He nodded as if his earlier insistence had been a lie.

Kate: A-Are you sure?

Ellis: Yeah. If you're happy in whatever relationship we're in, then so be it.

Ellis: Maybe that's what a lover is.

Ellis: I just want to make you the happiest you can be and make it last forever.

Kate: Forever?

Ellis: Yes, forever.

Kate: What do you mean?

Ellis: I mean it as it is.

Ellis: Your hands are getting warm.

Ellis stroked the back of my hand one last time to check, then released our hands and got up from the bed.

Ellis: Good night, Kate.

Ellis: See you tomorrow.

He left the room, smiling.

(Happy forever?)

I collapsed on the bed, reflecting.

Kate: How would he do that?

I couldn’t get him and our lingering kiss out of my mind that night.

The next day.

The pain in my ankle subsided after barely moving it yesterday, making the walk to the dining room a breeze.

(Oh, it’s Jude.)

When I entered the dining room, I found Jude, surrounded by a threatening air, reading a newspaper.

Kate: Good morning.

Jude: Thanks to you, Ellis was taken out of operation for a day yesterday.

Kate: Huh? S-Sorry.

Then silence followed.

(I can’t take it anymore.)

(I need to start a conversation一Oh, right!)

Kate: I heard yesterday that you and Ellis made some kind of promise. What kind of promise is it?

Jude: *sigh*

(Crap, I shouldn’t be making small talk about other people’s promises!)

Kate: S-Sorry for asking a weird question. Forget it.

Realizing my blunder, I scowled, and Jude smiled mockingly.

Jude: Did he ask you yesterday how happy you are?

Kate: What?

------------Flashback------------

Ellis: Hey, Kate.

Kate: Hmm? What is it?

Ellis: How happy are you right now?

---------Flashback Ends---------

Kate: Yeah, he did ask me, but why does it matter?

Jude: Really? Yer lucky to get out alive.

Kate: What do you mean?

(It's as if, depending on how I replied, I wouldn't have made it out alive.)

Jude then began to read the newspaper as if I didn't exist.

At that moment, the smell of butter fluttered past my nose, and I turned around to see him.

Ellis: Good morning, Kate.

Kate: Morning, Ellis. Huh? Is that…?

Ellis was carrying a plate of toasted baguette with lots of butter in his right hand and cranberry and marmalade jam on his left.

Seeing this, my slightly frazzled nerves quickly melted away.

(That's what I said I wanted to eat yesterday.)

Kate: You remembered?

Ellis: I wanted to see your happy face when you ate this.

Ellis: Let's eat it together.

His sweet smile made my heart tingle.

The disturbing sense of unease I sometimes felt around Ellis and Jude's meaningful words...

The current situation was no different from yesterday's lover's pretend game.

I still felt uncomfortable right next to him, but if I didn't focus on it, I'd be comfortable by his side.

(There's nothing weird about it.)

(If I get to know him better, I'm sure I'll be able to wipe away this sense of unease.)

Kate: Mmm! It's really delicious!

Ellis: I'm glad.

Ellis: Hey, Kate. How happy are you right now?

Kate: Huh? Hmm. This may be the happiest I've been in a week.

Ellis: I see.

He smiled gently.

I don't know why that smile stuck with me, but it was quickly buried by the aroma of butter and cranberry jam.

Part 1╏Part 2╏Premium End╏Epilogue

[soobinsupreme]

how long?

Angst.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Not proofread.

a/n: i literally dont remember writing this but here ya go. sorry hyunjin stans. i love him. i just used him as the person bc ig he was who i thought of at the time lol.

You looked up, pain and sadness written all over your face. You thought about the memories and the laughs you shared. Now, everything was different. Your relationship only causes misery and stress.

“Tell me when,” You started, trying to keep your voice stable. “When was the first time you met with her?”

Hyunjin looked at you with shock. You had known about her for a while now, Hyunjin had no clue. 

You noticed the different behavior about two months ago, but you brushed it off. Until you couldn't anymore. That's why you started digging. You noticed a particular girl he followed and recognized her name. Hyunjin had spoken about her before. They were coworkers at the time. You had scrolled through her page and found that Hyunjin had liked every single one of her pictures, even commenting on one. A simple heart. That's what got you. That's how Hyunjin made his move on you. Just a single heart on one of your posts. He proceeded to DM you after that. You knew he had made his move. So you found her other socials and went through it all.

Hours went by as you went through her socials. Just as you were ready to call it quits, you found it. A picture of her kissing a man. A man who was covered with shades and a hat. But it was painfully obvious to you, after all you had been together for 4 years. Hwang Hyunjin. The man in the photo, your supposed boyfriend, kissing her. 

That's what led you here, two weeks later, pestering your boyfriend about where he had been. Coming in late was normal for him as of lately. You usually would fall asleep before he got home, but you had finally decided to stay up. You wanted to see what time he actually came home. He always would tell you he worked late and got home at 11. He knew you fell asleep early so the lie worked for a while, until you stayed up late one night finishing your extra credit paper from your professor, finally going to bed at 11:30. Hyunjin had told you he got home at 11. Lie. So when he finally arrived, at 2:30 in the morning, he looked at you in shock. You simply smiled.

“You’re home late.” You said as sweetly as you could. “Where were you?”

Hyunjin coughed, as he slid his shoes off, walking further into the living room. “I was working, trying to finish up everything I was behind on.” He smiled walking towards you.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek. As he did you could smell the sickly sweet vanilla perfume coming off his clothes. You moved yourself away.

“New perfume?” You smiled, turning your head to the side to eye him for any evidence.

His face contorted into one of confusion.

“What?”

He moved his arm up to his nose, breathing in the scent. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Uh, yeah, I got it a few weeks ago.” He lied through his teeth.

“It's awfully feminine, Hyunjin.” You replied. “Where have you really been?”

“I just told you I was at work, I was given a few assignments that needed my approval.” Hyunjin said.

You laughed, “What? I thought you said you were behind on assignments? Now it was approving other papers?”

His eyes widened once more.

“No-, Yeah-, I-, I was behind on approvals, tha-”

“Just stop.” You cut him off, “Just tell me something.”

“Tell me when,” You looked at him, “When was the first time you met with her?”

“What?” Hyunjin looked at you, shock all over his features. “What are you talking about?”

You picked your phone up off the coffee table, pulling the picture up. You turned it towards him.

“Do you think I'm that stupid, Hyunjin? Seriously.” You stood up throwing your phone onto the couch.

“Why can’t you just be fucking honest. If you had just told me you didn’t want to be with me anymore, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this pain and bullshit. 4 years really means nothing to you.”

“Y/n, please, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.” Hyunjin stepped closer, reaching out to touch your arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You looked up at him, swatting his hand away. “You didn’t mean to hurt me? Was I supposed to be happy that you’re cheating on me? And no, Hyunjin, you aren’t sorry because you hurt me. You’re sorry because you got caught.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n, please.” He whispered.

“No.” You backed away from him. “Get out of my house. We’re done.”

[ctrnewrites]

sacrifice (adrian chase)

okay pals, first post after rebranding myself as a writer. so excited to probably start writing more in my free time. yolo. in the meantime, here’s a funny little blurb that’s definitely not proofread except for basic grammar and relative plot. 

summary: adrian just joined project butterfly, but with secret government missions, comes sacrifice. (bro is mad ooc me thinks but its midnight so whateva)

wc: 536 (blurb)

“Wait, you’re breaking up with me? Like, for real?” She asked in shock. Staring the brown-haired man down. Everything seemed fine, nothing out of the ordinary. But his statement was downright flabbergasting.

“Oh god, uhm… Yes...” He trailed off. Still thinking of what else to say to ease the blow. “But pumpkin, listen- “.

He was cut off with a very overdramatic, yet reasonable scoff. “No way. Adrian there is no well in hell do you get to tell me that you’re breaking up with me then calling me pumpkin in the next sentence.”

He couldn’t tell her the truth, no matter how much he wanted, no matter how much their relationship would depend on it, he cannot tell the truth. “Listen, I’m sorry. It just needs to happen.”

“Give me an explanation on why it does!” Her voice was raised. He never liked it when her voice was raised at him. She was always kind and soft spoken to him. Only on a few occasions was her voice ever raised and she always felt bad afterwards. This time, she wasn’t going to feel bad. “Was it me? Did I do something wrong?” Tears threatened to spill against her cheeks.

God, how this stressed Adrian out. “Baby please…” He tried to speak, placing his hands on her cheek. “I wish I could tell you; I really do. But I just can’t.” Adrian was almost to tears himself.

He never wanted it to end this way. Overcome by excitement, he got himself involved with Project Butterfly. Now for his girlfriend’s safety, he can’t have her at all. He had to at least let her down easily. He sighed heavily, ultimately deciding to seal his fate. “I cheated on you.” He dropped the bomb. A fake one. The fakest bomb to ever exist was dropped and the damage was done.

“No, Adrian please tell me you’re lying.” She removed her hands from his face. Stepping a few steps back. “Tell me you’re lying, and this is all some big prank that you’re playing on me to get me to hate you even less than I do right now.” The tears fell, no chance of getting them back in.

He hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” He nodded in response. “Get out.” With that his head lifted again, shocked but what did he expect. “I want you to get out, leave your key, please. I can drop whatever you left here off at your place or work or whatever. I just don’t want you around me anymore.”

He didn’t fight it. Adrian knew he had to leave. He was never good with processing emotions or reading others. But he did know one thing, he was madly in love with (Y/n) but now, she had to be left behind for reasons of government secrecy. His lies of vigilantism were covered by more lies of unfaithfulness. It was hard to justify it. Joining and aiding Project Butterfly would save the world from being overrun by controlling aliens. Leaving his love, his life, and hiding behind a lie would destroy his world from heartbreak. The choice was his, and he made his sacrifice.

[ruershrimo]

genshin impact x fem!reader: and yet the waves continue to crash

features ayato

warnings: misogyny, angst, implied suggestive topics (? I’ll put that in the tags for good measure), minor character death

notes: the original name for this was “mm. angst” and then I made it fancy, tiatt ch 5 coming soon but I spent a while getting this done, shout-out to my proofreader who helped me get rid of some of my redundancy and just helped me touch-up on this!!!!

synopsis: (you’ve known him for almost all your life, but as the waves continue to crash, the two of you continue to grow. can the two of you keep these youthful dreams forever?

spoiler: you can’t.)

sequel- coloured goodbyes/farewell to childhood

“…I’m sorry, but due to my status I cannot be with someone who is not of noble descent.”

Oh no. Oh no, your brain repeated, like a broken record. Heat seemed to rush into your body, your blood and your veins as you bite your bottom lip discreetly and your hands clenched your kimono tightly, so tightly your knuckles turned white and you thought the kimono would be crumpled forever. You avoided blinking away the pool of tears in your red-stained eyes as you stared down at the ground in a feeling that wasn’t quite in your cognition.

Was he feeling the same way as well?, you thought during your stroll back home. You had left the sakura tree there without a word, unable to speak anymore and unable to show yourself any less.

Well, it wasn’t like anybody needed to know, anyway.

They would already know, you told yourself.

That kamisato ayato rejected his princess, his closest companion, his “best friend”, his confidante.

“It looks like that licentious woman has finally stopped,” you could hear them say. Dear goodness, is she ok, serves her right for what she did, she looks so pitiful.

You hold your arms up to your shoulders as if to hug yourself (but not for comfort, no) or hide yourself, in shame, in anguish, in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t place your finger on. Something that made you want to grow your brain out of your head and rip your heart out of your chest. You tried to ignore them and pressed your ears into the oblivion between your skull and your raised shoulders. By the time you reached home, you calmed down on the outside. Then, you wanted to tear your hair out from your head.

Ah, but you didn’t.

Instead, you curtly walked to your room in your usual fashion. You cried your eyes out like a teenage girl. Was it all a lie, did I do anything wrong, maybe he actually does like me and he just can’t, that’s so romantic and it’s like a tragic story- shut up, stop being delusional. Were you really crying over someone else, and a boy like that?

What were you even thinking.

Snot and saliva caked the sleeves of your tear-stained kimono and the hiccups flowed out faster and more abruptly than water with the power to form a river or a valley.

Thinking of water made you think of him.

And it hurt so much, when you thought of everything again.

Kamisato ayato was a smart boy. That was your first impression of him. You first stumbled upon him during a festival when the two of you were too young to understand what would happen later.

Under the big sakura tree (the one whose petals had fallen to the floor during the previous spring season), you asked him, “So you’re the kamisato boy, right?”

And he replied, “Yep!” with a grin that made you feel things you yet again did not understand.

“That’s so cool!”

You had strayed away from your parents and he had done so as well. You wondered if you would get in trouble for going off to play with the blue-haired boy you came to know as ayato. It didn’t matter to five-year-old you anyway. Ayato was fun to play with, that you learned after he showed you some tricks he learned about sleight of hand, “Mother taught me this!,” and some facts that he knew, “See that? It’s a cypress! Mother said that people use them for religious rituals because they’re a symbol of prosperity!”. Those are just the things he said when he pointed to the things he was referring to excitedly. You did not understand what “big words” like prosperity and rituals meant, but you listened to him nonetheless. You liked the elation in his voice and how smart he sounded. At five, you didn’t really know what was smart and what was not, but any smart person in your book used to be anyone who was a speaker of magniloquent words. You wondered about how smart his mother might be from how she sounded. To your young and impressionable mind, she could have been a genius.

In your little conversation, you learned things about him, like how his family didn’t usually go to festivals and how this was a rare occurrence or how he has to practice calligraphy (“-which I hate, it’s so boring!”) or how he was going to have a baby sibling soon.

“Now just what are you doing here, young lady-!” a frustrated voice tore through his string of rambles. “Wait, I- kamisato ayato? Ah- greetings, young master of the kamisato clan.”

Fearing your mother’s fiery wrath, you hid behind ayato, the back of his clothes. They felt warm, soft and smooth.

He looked back at you as if to check on your condition, and though you were terrified, you believed there was solace and comfort to be found in his gaze and smile. You felt reassured, and your little heart beat calmly as it filled itself with a warm, affectionate feeling. His presence calmed you. You could have bored into his cerulean eyes for all of a perpetuated eternity and you wouldn’t mind.

This feeling was sweet. Confusing, but sweet. Yes, that was your best way of describing it.

In the end, you got in trouble, but when he had to say goodbye to you he seemed to feel just as distraught as you were before a plump-bellied woman, with the same beautiful blue eyes and hair as his- kissed him on the forehead before a man about a year senior to her asked if she was ready to leave.

Kamisato ayato was a tall boy for his age.

That was your first thought as you saw him again under the sakura tree with the prettiest little petals and strong roots which kept it uprooted by thrusting deeply into the earth.

“How’s ayaka?” you began the conversation like you did so when the two of you were younger.

In reply, the twelve-year-old boy started to go on and on about how hard it was to have a sister.

You could tell that he loved his sister, that much you could tell, from the way he chatted about how cute she was and switched at the speed of light to about how annoying she was when his father tried to give him more lessons.

You felt nervous, or maybe apprehensive- no, worried, when he got to the topic of the training regimen he recently started following due to his father’s wishes. You were worried that due to his training, he wouldn’t come to the big sakura tree so often anymore, your main destination to rendezvous every once in a while. Whenever any of you needed comfort, you would go here and wait for the other.

But you didn’t tell him that. No, not a word about that, when you knew how much the state of his clan meant to him, even if the two of you were only preteens. You looked at the ground, covered in the fallen sakura petals instead and got flustered when he inquired about how you had been doing, provoking him to show a mischievous expression.

“Ayato,” you started innocently. Maybe you were too sleepy, or the starry black sky above you had engulfed you far too much in its magic, for you blurted out, “Do you love me?”

“Hm? Of course I do,” he answered back. “You’re my best friend.”

Your heart leaped in bliss as you laid your arms on the ground in euphoria. He loves you. You giggled as your position shifted to meet him, and not caring about the implications of what was going to occur like young people do, you kissed him on the cheek before rolling back to your former position.

“I love you too.”

The next two years, he didn't visit the sakura tree at all. You could only sit there waiting for him and hoping when he could come back.

In a way, you found it poetically wonderful. If this was a romance book, you thought, I’d be the princess waiting for the prince. You’d giggle whenever you retreated to those little fantasies.

There was nothing good about it, in reality. You learned that the kamisato clan had been struggling due to its reputation being in shambles. Something-something, samurai, something-something, politics, something-something, reputation.

You hated politics with the passion that politicians could only dream of having.

Things also started to change when you got older. (But I don’t grow up. I don’t want to. Not yet.)

Whenever you sauntered around Inazuma City with your mother, it was as if people’s eyes were on you, asking if that was the girl they used to see with kamisato ayato.

That girl, I can understand why she might have seduced him (seduced? I’m only a child, how can I seduce anyone? you thought), eh, she doesn’t look too bad, look at those (I want to tune your voice out, old man. Shut up.), but doesn’t she look like eye candy, I’m pretty sure that’s all just makeup and she’s actually just an ugly person both inside and out (don’t make me cry in public, you pleaded in your mind, am I really all of those things that you say I am? I’m just a child, I don’t know, ayato, please, ayato, please come back to the big sakura tree. Please protect me like you did before.)

You started to ask yourself if you were as pretty as the others and grew envious of others’ smarts. It seemed as if everyone was better than you in some way, that all the other girls around you had the level of individuality and talent that you could never reach. You wanted to be beautiful, to be smart, to be charming. And in the darkest parts of you, you wanted to be that way for ayato. The days without him started to feel blurred and like they were a mix of emotions, from happy, to sad, to jealous, to rotten. You didn’t know what was happening to you, you just wanted it all to stop. You wanted to be happy and to be good enough for you to love yourself again, and for him to come back.

Kamisato ayato was a very handsome boy.

That was what you thought about on the day that you swore it would be your last visit to the sakura tree (you were annoyed with it after doing it for two whole years) in which you caught a glance of a tall silhouette. Edging closer, you were met with beautiful features: a beauty mark, soft blue eyes that reflected the waves of the ocean, a silky, smooth light blue head of hair with some white on it, beautiful, beautiful, long eyelashes that were a replica of what you could see of kamisato kaiyo when you were younger. There was no questioning it. This was ayato, your prince, your closest companion, your “best friend”, your confidante.

You leaped forward before almost strangling him in a tight hug. The now fourteen-year-old young man reciprocated the hug despite being taken aback by it at first.

This time, you noticed his pupils looking slightly dilated and the white of his eyes having more red branches in them than usual. The hand he had on your waist while tenderly embracing you seemed to be trembling.

“Are you alright…?”

“Yes. I…” he started, somewhat anxiously. “I can tell you anything, and you won’t tell anyone else, right?”

“Anything is safe with me, ayato.”

“My parents, they…

They got sick.”

“Oh, are they alright now?” tread carefully, you reminded yourself.

“…

…no. They aren’t,” he hesitantly sighed.

“Oh, ayato…” you try to comfort him by clutching his hand and gazing into his eyes sincerely. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

As if that helped anything. He was suffering. He was in agony. And all you could do was stare at him and faux-reassure him.

To your surprise, he gazed into your eyes before bending down to lay his head on your chest.

“Thank you.”

Kamisato ayato was a man with a very tragic life.

That was what you thought the next time you met him.

It seemed as if he had been running to the big sakura tree, his cheeks adorned with red that was bright enough for you to see in the dim lights of Inazuma nights and his eyes in a frantic state of shock.

“My parents… they…”

His eye bags were greatly conspicuous to you, even from afar. Weak, he looked, as if he could plummet down to the ground and faint at any moment.

When he collapsed, whether due to fatigue or his piercing grief, his heart seemed to open like a river and you swore that this was the first time you had seen his emotions gushing out of him with such uncontrollable power.

He then cried as if he was deliberately trying to lose his voice until his shouting came to a standstill and his voice quivered once more. You reached down to kiss his forehead like you had seen kamisato kaiyo do so before. With the tenderness of his late mother, you attempt to pull him close. Maybe to give him an escape for whatever happened to him- you were just a simple girl in the city and he was everything a simple girl in the city couldn’t reach, what were you thinking- or to console him after it and help him move on- you preferred it most likely being the former, though- the only thing that could add a drop of complex purpose and individuality into your simple and bland self was to be someone else’s and not your own, to be a prince’s bride and not a queen’s advisor, or an explorer, or a scholar, no- that was how it always was in fairytales, right? Like how the poor girl with the slipper got the luxurious ring and how the girl who pricked her finger was saved in the end by a prince with great valor and charm.

He grew quieter. His breath had stabilized. He grabbed your lower arm forcefully, taking you by surprise as if to do something to you, before gaining a better sense of things and immediately pushing it back. He turned away, for a moment’s respite, before you could notice the look in his eyes that very clearly communicated, “Never mind, I’m doing it anyway.”

And he held it tightly but gently before his mouth inched closer to yours-

-before the two of your lips were only a centimeter apart, and his mouth clashed with yours as if you were two starved people being exposed to fruit for the first time. The kiss was sweet and deep, shocking you with momentary icy coldness before enveloping you in comforting warmth. He pulled away from the passionate moment you had before speeding away and-

-you never saw kamisato ayato again for two years. That lucky little man, he’s lucky that you love him so much.

You continued to linger around the big sakura tree after that incident like a ghost and you came back there every day.

You stole the time you shouldn’t have spent on crying and bawling your eyes out, weeping and waiting for your prince, your closest companion, your “best friend”, your confidante. Too many nights than you could have spent on doing better, productive things were spent on hurting because of someone else, and a man no less. The women in your family would be ashamed of you, you thought. The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. If you had gotten any sadder, the men in your family, mainly overprotective and rash at making decisions, would step up and be glad because of your sorrow, because their little girl with her little broken heart was all alone again. Protected. In the same way, if you had gotten any happier, the women in your family would shame you for what they perceived as your shallowness and promiscuousness. Being with them made you sick. The very notion of traditional gender values made you want to double over and throw up.

Kamisato ayato might be smart, but he is a fool. He is stupid. He is awfully smart, yes. But to you, his idiosyncrasies precede him. In your conquest of trying to bring back the two of your childhood memories, when youth was present and innocence was alive, you even tried to go directly to the Kamisato Estate just to see him again, and you were only greeted by ayaka and thoma, with all the values of etiquette deeply woven into ayaka’s speech and mannerisms and all the free-spiritedness of a Mondstadtian citizen. You could understand why ayaka was called the shirasagi himegimi and why thoma was such a good bargainer. Politely, they urged you to leave the estate. At least, that was what you felt they were doing.

“Ah, miss kamisato. May I visit your brother? I’m a friend of his. And, hello, mr thoma.”

“Greetings,” ayaka smiled. She looked just like her mother, the only difference being the shape of her eyes. “I’m sorry, but my brother is busy at the moment.”

“Oh, alright then. Well, can I at least say some things to him if he’s not meeting anyone at the moment? I’ve been a bit worried about him recently.”

Those were lies, you thought. You had been “a bit worried” about him for two terribly long years.

“Oh, well… h-he’s busy,” ayaka stuttered.

“You can write a note to him or join us for tea at the komore teahouse!” thoma suggested.

“Oh, ok. I’ll… write a note, then.”

Thoma reached into his pockets, rummaging through what seemed like infinity to you in a finite space before handing a small piece of scrap paper to you.

Hi ayato, you wrote. Too simple? Maybe it needed to be more formal?

My dearest ayato-

Welp, guess you had to scribble that. You frowned. If only you could add one extra comma and change the whole sentence.

Dear ayato,

You haven’t visited the place where we usually meet in two years. I understand that you are busy, but I hope you can start visiting it soon. I’ll be there most of the time, so I hope we can talk again. I miss you.

Sincerely, your best friend

Was that last “I miss you” too sappy?

“Mr thoma, may I write other notes to him from time to time?” you inquired. You just wanted to communicate with him once, at least to know how he was doing or know if he was still an existing being.

“Sure! Just let me know and I’ll give them to him whenever you’d like.”

The next time you were going to see him came earlier than you thought it would.

You sat down on the verdant grass beneath the tree, looking at the pinky petals and soaking up the nostalgia and sunlight like a flower in summer, reminiscing about the past.

Laying your head down on the soft bed of grass beneath you, you waited for nature to lull you to sleep before you heard the sound of fabric brushing against the tree’s branches. Not expecting a visitor any time soon, you arose from the ground, eager to learn the identity of your safe haven’s intruder.

“Hello.”

And there he is, your prince, with the royal blue eyes, your “best friend”, with his soft smile, your closest companion, with his sky blue hair, your confidante, in his modern, formal white and blue attire.

“Ayato!”

You might have shocked him slightly, but you had no cares in the world for that, wrapping your arms around him in a jocund manner, not caring about the consequences of what you did (as long as kamisato ayato was there with you). Your previous anger at him had been quelled due to his return to you.

You reconnected with him once again, learning about what happened with the clan’s reputation and how he was usually engaged in his work due to having to patch it up.

Kamisato ayato is a very charming man, you thought as he placed a sakura blossom in your hand, his thumb rubbing the center of your palm and his fingers caressing the back of your hand.

“Why did you give me this?” you chuckled, as sweetly as you thought your voice could ever sound.

“As a gift, of sorts. We rarely meet under this tree anymore- which I greatly apologize for, I’ve just been too busy— (I’m going to change this to an em dash ya.) so here’s a sakura blossom to remember the first time we met.” he pauses for a moment’s respite before continuing, “And also because you are as beautiful as this sakura blossom right here.”

He pressed a sweet peck to the back of your hand before promptly transfixing his gaze to meet yours and calmly winking. That was the push that was enough to instantly trigger an increase of your heartbeats per minute.

The two of you were on one of your occasional outings together after the two of you reunited as young adults.

A special walk in Inazuma City together (with you trying your best to avoid his whims of going to secret places to do daring things and ignoring the gasps and gossiping of those around you), a stroll in Chinju Forest (with you resting your head on his shoulder and resisting to kiss him because how can the sight of someone next to the flowers of Chinju Forest look so beautiful?), a picnic under the big sakura tree…

You brushed his rare moments of hesitance whenever you made a move on him to the side (were you even supposed to be able to do so when he was this much out of your league?). Surely, he was just taken aback due to your forward-ness, right? Or maybe it was due to his heavy workload? (Whatever. You could always ask him by sending him a note.)

Eventually, as it always happened with him, he started to be more occupied with his work again and you were left with the same situation as you were in during the two prior years.

Dear ayato,

Can we speak under that place that only we visit? I wish to know about some things, that’s all. Just visit me there when you can, please.

Sincerely, your best friend

“Ah, about that last letter I read, what did you wish to tell me?”

“I just wanted to ask why you’ve started to cancel more of our outings together- I mean, I know being busy comes with the “package” of you having so many expectations and so much work to do, but sometimes I think that you end up thinking of work too much while we’re out sometimes, too,” you voiced.

“Well, work has been busy, but I’ll try to make time for you- for us- as soon as possible.”

The manner in which he answered you didn’t seem uneasy or nervous, but as if he had memorized lines from a script of lies, as if his speech was controlled.

“Ayato,” you sighed. “Are you lying to me?”

For that moment, it seemed as if time had stopped and that moment could have been stretched for eternity. The wind blew and the nature around you continued its symphony of slothlike sounds. The noises of animals and bugs carried themselves through the air as a soft breeze flew by, blowing the sakura blossoms of its beloved, archaic tree, before the blossoms obscured your vision and graced ayato’s features. This was the same tree that held so many memories, the place where you could get away from the ogled and insulted you in the same breath and where he could get away from his work, the place that only the two of you knew.

Kamisato ayato was ethereal. Heavenly, even.

Once the petals fell to the ground, he appeared somewhat crestfallen to you.

“…I am.”

“Then tell me the truth,” you entwined your fingers with his, your other hand lovingly holding his wrist as if you think you were a princess who deserved him. “I can take whatever you’ll tell me.”

Hopefully.

He opened his mouth, and for a moment’s hesitation, thoughts raced through your mind at the speed of unadulterated light. Was he going to say what you thought he was going to say?

“But I can’t. I don’t want you to hear it. It would hurt you…so, so much,” he whispered under his breath.

“…I’d rather know the truth than keep lying to myself. It’s alright, you can tell me. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him.

You weren’t going to be fine, but you wouldn’t crack completely so easily in front of him for his sake.

“I love you, ayato,” you grinned as if this wasn’t what could have been your last meeting in your lives. You knew he was going to say it, but you succumbed to the false dreams of pure puerility that you possessed.

“…I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low tone. “But due to my status I cannot be with someone who is not of noble descent.”

And so it happened, your prediction came true. He would never be yours.

A few days after that incident, you returned to the sakura tree, perhaps to say goodbye to the past or to say hello to the future.

Rather briskly, you rummaged through your portmanteau and tore out a piece of paper before leaving it on the petals of the sakura tree with a bittersweet, mellow visage.

Spring had just passed. Yet the waves were crashing on as they always had been.

Dear ayato,

I have left this note here instead of giving it to thoma. I want you to be the one to read it whenever you are ready, and I don’t want anyone else to know the contents of this paper. After all, this is the place that only we know.

A few days ago, about what you said, although it made me cry, I think I’ve been pleasantly invigorated after all that ugly sobbing and misery. I realized that for almost all of my life, it has been filled with you, and though it isn’t a bad thing, I think it’s time that I grow up like you did before me. My life won’t revolve around you as much anymore. I don’t think I should need my life to be like that now. I promise, I’ll grow up, and I won’t do it for anyone else but myself. I don’t need beauteous wiles or astute sagacity. I don’t need to care about those who stare at me lecherously or those who hate my appearance despite not knowing me at all. I just need to live and no longer be the girl who is a child stuck in an adult. I think that I don’t have to associate growing up with the loss of youth and freedom, and I can live to my heart’s content. I’ll travel around the world and learn about myself, and I think that I should let you have the time to do that too.

I don’t think we can ever be together, but I will never forget you and how much you have carved me into who I am now. For the rest of my life, I will never tell others why I love the spring season or why I keep so many notebooks. All I need to do next is follow the path laid before me, hitherto unbeknownst to me, and I will let the rest of Teyvat make its mark on my being as well.

Thank you for everything, kamisato ayato. I love you and I will never forget you.

Sincerely, your best friend.

As you were just about to board your ship in Ritou, where the sea breeze flooded your senses, you could hear someone’s footsteps behind you.

“Wait!” cried ayato desperately, rushing toward your direction.

“Goodbye, ayato,” you beamed. You were already satisfied with what you were going to do now, though you pondered on how he was able to rush to Ritou so easily for a brief second. “Thank you for everything.”

Time paused like it did so before you decided to change your life.

He panted, before his desperate gaze shifted to an affectionate one.

“Goodbye,” he laughed, as if you two would see each other again soon. “I wish you well.”

“And I, you, ayato!”

Fully content, you walked onto the ship with your traveling bag, waving goodbye to your prince,

your best friend,

your closest companion,

your confidante.

( ^_^ bittersweet ending.)

[ssplague]

Have some sexy alpha Katsuki x omega reader that I whipped up at one this morning.

Rated M : The smut isn’t super detailed but it’s got all that good stuff (knotting, heat/rut, a tiny bit of cum inflation if you squint really hard), Slight angst, lightly proofread.

Give me Alpha Katsuki or give me death ☠️

There had to be close to five hundred people in this over crowded ball room, all with their own unique scents. Despite all the pheromones intermingling (Courtesy of everyone’s secondary sex) one stood out. Of course it belonged to an alpha, your alpha. You’d done everything in your power to avoid being near him, after six months you thought you’d undoubtedly made some progress in resisting all things that had to do with him. Apparently not.

You have yet to even lay eyes on him but you knew he was here from the moment you begrudgingly entered the venue. The only scent you could pick up on was his, no matter how many others you’d intentionally gotten close to tonight. That rich caramel scent, burnt sugar and smoke hung so thick in the air that you began to choke on it. Every breath in would inevitably attribute to suffocation, the sugar laced smoke was using all the oxygen to keep itself burning away inside your lungs.

Your face felt hot, a light sheen of sweat began decorating your brow, the beautiful designer dress you wore began to feel uncomfortable and constricting on your skin. You calmly strode over to the double doors that led to the balcony, strictly for appearance sake. Instinct had you wanting to book it outside before you inevitably collapsed, each careful step taking maximum effort.

Relief filled you as your shaky fingers came into contact with the door handle and as you exited that humid room you immediately took in gulps of the fresh night air. In your frenzy to get outside you failed to notice the predatory crimson gaze tracking your every move. Now that he’s finally got a chance to confront you he’s intent on seizing it. Reaching the double doors in five quick strides he slips out and follows the deliciously scented trail you’d unknowingly left behind.

You didn’t want to be here tonight, but it was mandatory for all the higher ranking pro’s to make an appearance. As soon as you picked up on someone approaching, you already undoubtedly knew who it was.

“I came out here to get some fresh air, cant you leave me be and go back to polluting the stuffy air inside?” you didn’t turn around to address him. He comes to stand beside you, much too close for comfort. When his elbow brushes against yours a scorching heat radiates through your body from the point of contact.

“We need to talk”

“I disagree”

You turn to leave, but he pulls you back “You didn’t think I’d just let you get away like that did you?”. “I’d rather have tried and failed, then willingly listen to you” you try to pull away but he won’t budge. “I want to start over y/n, I’m sorry for neglecting you like I did, let me fix it, please be mine again…my omega“ his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your face into his chest. The muffled keen you let out is absolutely pathetic! Inner omega and alpha are elated to be reunited again, but the body of those they reside in are nothing short of terrified.

Rejection can kill either one of you at this point. Six months wallowing in your own personal states of misery had begun to take a toll on each of you. “You have to let go, at this rate you’ll trigger my heat!” Your voice is panic stricken but the response he gives you is nothing but calm; “Tell me you don’t want this, tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll let you go”.

“Katsuki, let.me.go! NOW!” you bare your tiny fangs as you snarl. This only proceeds to spur him on further as his hands are freely roaming up and down your sides, “I know you can’t say it because it would be an outright fucking lie”.

This closeness is getting to you, your brain feels like it’s made of playdough. There isn’t even a point in putting up a fight, “Take me home please, I don’t want this happening out here where anyone walking by can see”. Somehow you both held out and spared his back seat. The sheets underneath you are stained with your dribbling slick and coated with drool, he’s too far gone to notice the mess you’ve made on your own. He’ll add to it soon enough, he’s rutting into you mercilessly as you feel his knot start to balloon. “I’m gonna sink my teeth into you this time little omega, gonna mark that pretty neck of yours while I fill your cunt to the brim with my cum” those are promises, no longer simple threats.

All you can do is babble as he continues fucking you completely dumb. You’re crooning like an absolute whore by the time his knot locks you together and his cum begins spilling into you.

“Yes alpha yes! S’good s’full all for you…again again!”. You’re barely able to move enough to deliver the bite you need to give him, but he makes sure you do. Your cunt greedily accepts load after load, you pretty much spend all of three days sitting on and stuffed full of his dick.

When you wake up on that fourth day and the burning haze has left your brain, you can’t help but whimper pathetically at the swell of your stomach. A heavy arm and an even heavier leg are carelessly thrown over you, effectively preventing your escape. “Shhhh omega, it’s not time to get up just yet” Katsuki rumbles from behind you. Your continued struggling earns you a sharp nip to your neck and you yelp at the sensitivity of the scabbed over flesh. Your fingers trace the mark on your neck, it’s as good as a ball and chain being attached to you forever.

You dont think you wanted this, but as that overpowering scent invades your nostrils you start to think “I could get used to this”.

You’d better, since it’s not like you have a fuckin’ choice at this point.

🐺👉🏼👌🏼