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mybiasisexo · 2 years ago

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Entangled - Part 5

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader

Chapter Warning: Language | Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5.3k

Author’s Note: Just a heads up... shits hitting the fan yall and its going e v e r y w h e r e 🔥! i feel like the story is going so fast haha. The wildest part is we are still only on day 2 in the story!!! so much happening in 2 days, could you imagine irl🥵? oh girl needs a long rest after this vacation is2g 😴!

Autumn is slowly approaching and I am so glad! I got my pumpkin candles LIT and my sweaters OUT lol 🍁. And who is excited for Minseok's solo??!??? lets goooo 🏃‍♀️!!!! ill enjoy whatever he does, but i am begging! Kim Minseok!! Give us cunt! Give us whips and chains! body rolls!!! I want to be devoured 😩

Enough with the babbling, I am sooo excited and nervous for this chapter. Its one of my favorites, so I hope you enjoy it! As always, reblogs and replies are always appreciated! I LOVE feedback and your thoughts and theories on the plot! Also lmk if youd like to be tagged!! Cheers to seeing our soldier boy soon 🥂! Much love! Have fuuUUUUuUuuuuun~~!

Twenty minutes later, you rush into your suite with three bags full of soju of various flavors.

Yerim sits at the island, head in her hands. You catch her shoulders bouncing slightly, but can only hear the occasional sniff. Seulgi sits beside her, rubbing her back consolingly. Her head turns towards you once she hears you enter, relief evident in her whole body.

Without saying a word, you tear open a bottle and lay out three shot glasses, filling them up to the brim. The sound of the tiny cups hitting the counter catches Yerim’s attention, and she reaches over for a glass with a slightly shaky hand. She gulps the contents down and you pour her another one, which she empties as soon as it’s full again. You take this one with her, but Seulgi only takes a sip of hers before placing it gently back on the table, her focus solely on her sister.

You’re throwing back another shot when Yerim finally speaks.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying like this.” Her voice is nasally, eyes bloodshot, face blotchy. “He had been practically ignoring me since we touched down and it’s not like we were official or anything. I just… I just really liked him.”

Chanyeol did have that effect on people, you knew all too well.

Yerim sounds so broken, you can’t help but sympathize with her. You find yourself tearing up as well.

“What did he say exactly?” Seulgi asks slowly, as if she’s afraid she’ll trigger her.

Yerim sighs and cradles a bottle to her chest, letting the coldness calm her. “He told me that being here was putting a lot of things into perspective for him, and that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with me. I told him that it was okay, that we could go slow, pick this up again once we were back in Seoul, but he told me no. He said…. He said he didn’t want to continue this at all. That he didn’t want to be with me at all and that–that bringing me here with him was a mistake!”

She starts sobbing, and her wails make your shoulders drop. You feel helpless, standing there watching your friend’s heart break. That helplessness makes you restless, makes you overthink. You want to do something, want to protect her. You want to storm right over to the guy who did this and make him suffer for hurting her. But, being that the man at fault is Park Chanyeol–-the same man you can’t seem to be alone with for two minutes without wanting to suck his face off, disrespectfully–you remain still, contemplating your options.

He did mention that he was taking her out to ‘make things right’. Now that you’re thinking about it, you should have seen this coming. He practically told you what he was planning on doing. You can’t help but to think that yeah, Yerim is suffering right now, but it is for the best. Could Chanyeol have gone about it in a better way? Absolutely. But Chanyeol has never really been one with great hindsight. He goes with how he feels, worries about the consequences later. Clearly.

There is one thing though, that you believe he still has failed to tell Yerim. The true reasoning behind his rash decision.

You.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter. It’s time Yerim knew the truth. You take another shot of soju for courage, knowing there are a few ways Yerim will take the news, and some of the options are not pleasant. You sit the glass down with slightly more force than intended, startling the sisters, and cutting of Yerim’s cries.

“Yerim.” Your voice is the most serious it has ever been. You lock eyes and hold it, making sure you have her full attention. She holds your stare, albeit with confusion. “I have something to tell you, something I should’ve told you sooner.”

“What is it?” She asks hesitantly.

“It’s about Loey,” you reveal. “The truth is, well, him and I–”

“Knew each other in college.” Seulgi loudly interrupts.

Her outburst startles you and you blink at her in surprise. She shrugs, curling her palms up and widening her eyes, helplessly. You know her well enough to gather what she’s trying to say. Now is, in fact, not the time.

“You…did?” Yerim asks, pulling your focus back to her.

“Yeah,” you let out in a huff. All the urgency leaves your body and you slump over the counter in defeat. “All of us did. He’s Baekhhyun’s best friend.”

“Why would he lie about that?” She asks, voice small.

“Because he’s an asshole,” Seulgi says. You nod in agreement.

“So, you were all friends in college?”

“Yes.” You supply. “That’s why he’s a groomsman with the rest of them. Chanyeol was pretty close to all of us but… was closer to some more than others.”

Both you and Seulgi squint your eyes and lean closer to the clueless girl, watching to see if she catches your drift.

“Oh.” She simply says. You both lean back with large sighs.

Her eyelids flutter rapidly before she’s going back for more soju. Once she’s got her fill, she’s gazing up at you. “His name is Chanyeol?”

You nod carefully, still trying to gauge her reaction.

She does her iconic deadly scoff and it’s enough reassurance for you. Your Yerim is coming back. “He didn’t even respect me enough to tell me his real name. He didn’t respect me at all. Was anything he told me even true? Is he even a producer?”

“No, he actually does do that,” Seulgi admits with a wince.

“I need another shot,” Yerim says. You don’t hesitate to fulfill her request.

“The boys should be back soon,” you say, laying your slightly spinning head against the back of the couch. Sehun texted you about fifteen minutes ago, letting you know that they were heading back. The plan is for the boys to come to your suite and drink a bit more before heading to their respective rooms to get some sleep for the big day tomorrow. Luckily, the wedding is going to be around 2pm so that you all can get some rest.

You asked Yerim if she was okay with the boys hanging out at your suite, and she said that as long as Loey–’oh yeah, that’s right, it’s Chanyeol’–wasn’t going to be here, she had no qualms. Plus she likes Sehun.

You don’t think she’s going to make it. She polished off three bottles of soju and is absolutely wrecked at the moment, making you from last night seem sober in comparison.

She’s sprawled out on the couch, head resting on Seulgi’s lap. Seulgi runs her fingers through her hair dotingly. Yerim’s eyes are already closed, breath evening out. You’re about to suggest hauling her off to bed when you hear a bunch of voices outside your room.

“Looks like they’re here!” You cheer, excited to be reunited with your favorite people.

There’s a loud bang and a bunch of people exclaiming. You share a confused look with Seulgi before you’re rushing to the door to further investigate. Seulgi lags behind, having to slip from underneath a snoring Yerim.

What greets you is the furthest thing you expect.

Jongdae and Baekhyun are a door down, struggling to carry a deadweight Chanyeol. His arms slung over their shoulders, feet barely touch the ground as he stumbles towards his room. He’s very obviously drunk, if his loud deep voice echoing through the halls is any indicator.

Jongin and Sehun lean against the wall across from you, quietly watching the shit show in amusement.

Curious, you venture out into the hall, leaving Seulgi to hold the door. She takes in the scene wearily.

“What’s going on?” You ask in a hushed tone as you greet Sehun. He looks agitated, but as soon as he sees you, he’s standing up straight, fear in his bright eyes.

He hisses your name. “Get back in your room. Hurry before he sees you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t question, just go. Go!” He starts pushing you back to your room, but you’re too confused and defiant to oblige to his request. Instead, you fight back, making it difficult for him to shove you away.

Unfortunately, this draws the attention of the others, and as soon as Chanyeol notices you, you realize what Sehun was trying to prevent.

He wails your name, louder than he had been a second ago.

“Fuck,” Sehun mutters.

“Too late.” Jongin whistles lowley.

“Mel!” Chanyeol cries. Baekhyun and Jongdae struggle under his shifting weight, scrambling to keep him above them. “I fucked everything up. I should’ve never brought her. Now you hate me for good.”

Now is a good time to take Sehun’s advice and run for the hills, but you can’t feel your legs to make an escape. Your breath hitches at his words and your heart starts beating so hard you can hear it in your ears, nearly drowning out his next words.

“It’s my fault,” he continues. His legs buckle beneath him, giving out and dropping him to his knees. Your heart shatters at how broken he sounds, how defeated he appears with his head bowed in shame. “I didn’t fight for you. I thought that’s what you wanted, so I didn’t. I’m sorry, Mel. You have to believe me, I’m so sorry.”

Each word that leaves his mouth chips at your heart, creating cracks on the wall you have built to hold in the dam of your emotions. Slowly they leak through, causing you to shake, your throat to itch, your eyes to burn–all a telltale sign of tears. You have to clench your teeth together to keep the sob in your throat from spilling out.

“I wish you didn’t hate me,” he continues in a broken whisper. “I wish you never left. That’s why I brought her. Because you left, and I couldn’t…. I couldn’t do it, Mel.”

He looks so small, like a lost child. It makes you want to walk over and drape yourself over him. Makes you want to pull him into you, feel the soothing softness of his hair between your fingers, his hot breath at your neck, and tell him that it’s okay. You can forgive him. You will forgive him.

Taking a shaky breath, you go to do just that. You shift your weight so that you can take that step–

“Who’s yelling?” You stiffen at the voice and catch in your peripheral Yerim squinting beside Seulgi, yawning as she scratches her head, very obviously just waking up. “Who’s Mel?”

That’s enough to shatter the illusion, bring you back to your senses. Fear quickly takes over as you realize the situation you’re now in. You want to tell her to go back inside like Sehun did to you earlier. You want to tell her to not worry, to ignore everything and go back to sleep, but before you can say anything, Chanyeol gets a bout of energy and tears away from the guys holding him.

It’s almost in slow motion, the way Chanyeol comes barreling towards you, hands outstretched for you. You can hear the others’ rejection, but their voices sound muffled, as though you’re underwater. Jongdae and Baekhyun rush to try to catch up to him, but his legs are too long for the shorter men.

Chanyeol’s massive hands cradle your head, tilting it back enough to give him the leverage he needs to press his lips harshly against yours.

He’s kissing you.

The shared contact speeds up time, making everything happen so quickly, you can hardly process anything going on. All you are aware of is a blur of warmth and nostalgia and hurt and regret and pain and love–so much fucking love.

You don’t even have time to close your eyes or succumb to the kiss you’ve been secretly craving all this time. No time to react before Chanyeol is being torn away from you with a loud wet pop.

Jongin has jumped in this time to drag Chanyeol back to his room. He’s fighting the whole way, trying to slip out of their grip, begging them to let him go because he wants to be with you. When he realizes his pleas are falling on deaf ears, he turns his attention back to you, reaching out as he gives you the saddest puppy eyes you think you’ve ever seen.

“Come with me,” he pleads urgently. “I want you to stay with me. Mel, please. Please! Give me another chance. You have to give me another chance!”

You can only watch as Baekhyun opens his door, throwing you an apologetic glance as they all tumble inside.

The silence that follows has your ears ringing, but the sound–or lack thereof–has you remembering yourself. Quickly, you spin around to your door, immediately locking eyes with Yerim. She doesn’t look an ounce as drunk or tired as she had before.

“Why did he just kiss you?” She asks, voice dangerously calm.

“Yerim,” you start, but find you’re at a complete loss for words. Your brain is still trying to possess the last few minutes.

“Why did he just fucking kiss you?!” She finally explodes, face red and shaking from the power of her vocals.

You all wince at her volume and guilt swallows you whole, smarting your eyes. You’re just so overwhelmed, everything’s happening so fast and you have no idea what is going on.

“I–I don’t know–”

“You don’t know?” She asks mockingly. “You don’t know why the man I brought here as my date, who just fucking dumped me, ran up and kissed you as if he wanted to be with you the whole time?”

Her words seem to connect some dots, you can practically see the light bulb spark to life over her head as she straightens up, eyes far away as realization dawns on her.

“Holy shit,” she mutters to herself. “It’s you.”

Her wide knowing eyes take you in. It’s almost cruel, the disgust now coating her face as she acknowledges you. “You’re the one he was talking about. The ex-fiancee. Aren’t you?”

“Yerim, please, just let me explain,” you plead.

That’s enough confirmation for her. She takes a step back, away from you. “So, all of you have been lying to me, not just him? You’ve all been in on it. How hilarious it must have been, watching me fall for a man you all knew loved someone else. You probably got together after dinner last night and shared a laugh over how much of an idiot I am.”

Her voice thickens as she speaks, lips quivering and eyes sparkling in the most devastating way. “I know I’m just Seulgi’s little sister to you all but this…. Isn’t this a bit too far?”

“It’s not like that at all.” Seulgi finally speaks. Yerim turns to her and she flinches at the anger aimed her way.

“And you,” Yerim vilely spits. “You are my sister! You’re supposed to protect me! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Seulgi attempts to answer her question, but is also left speechless, unable to conjure an answer that would appease her sister.

Yerim scans all of you. Jongin and Baekhyun have returned, leaving Jongdae to babysit Chanyeol, and silently watch the fight, trying to catch up on what has transpired so far in their absence. “What is wrong with you people?”

“We didn’t say anything because Chanyeol and I are over,” you reveal in a rush, pushing through the tears coating your esophagus. “Yerim, please, he’s just drunk. The wedding is messing with his head, making him nostalgic. I doubt he’ll even remember any of this. We were wrong to not tell you about our connection sooner, and I’m sorry about that. It just took us all by surprise and we didn’t know how to bring it up.”

She glares at you, but it doesn’t hold as much fire as it had prior, so you continue.

“And your sister wanted to tell you. She was pressuring me the whole time to do it, but it never felt like the right time. God, Yerim, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this trip to become such a mess.”

Your body is shaking again, and your voice wobbles as you push through that damned lump. God you hate this. Hate that Chanyeol had to go around and kiss you, hate that your connection to him is causing someone you care deeply for to hurt. Hate that despite everything, a part of you is wanting to answer his call and run to his room, to apologize for everything and wrap yourself into his familiar embrace.

As if one of your friends could tell you need comfort, hands are pulling at you, spinning you around to crush you against a firm chest. The action calms you, allows you to focus on your breathing.

“You should have told me,” Yerim continues coldly. “You’re the reason why he kicked me out of our room, the reason he broke off whatever this was we had. If you had told me I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have….”

She finally breaks. A sob leaves her body involuntarily, and she covers her mouth in an attempt to hold them in. Seulgi takes a step towards her to comfort her, but she holds up a hand, warding her back as she tries to calm down.

The urge to cry has passed and you think you can stand on your own. Lifting your head, you see Baekhyun gazing down at you sympathetically, one of his hands rubbing your back soothingly. You give him a small smile as thanks, and he matches it in reply.

“I want to go home.”

The statement makes everyone’s head turn to the little girl breaking down in the doorway.

“What?” Seulgi is the one to ask.

“I said I want to go home. Now.”

“But the wedding….” Sehun starts.

“Who gives a fuck about the wedding!” Yerim shouts. “These are your friends, not mine! You’ve made that perfectly clear! I don’t want to be here anymore! I don’t want to see any of you again!”

“Let’s go inside,” Seulgi offers, voice gentle and calming. “Let’s just sit down and think through everything, okay?”

“Fine,” Yerim huffs before stomping back into the suite, having everyone share a glance before tiptoeing in after her, piling around the living area.

Yerim slouches on the couch, arms crossed defiantly, eyes on the floor, refusing to acknowledge any of you.

Understandable. Hell, you can’t seem to meet anyone’s eyes either as you slide onto the floor, leaning against one of the large windows, far away from the girl, guilt gnawing at you.

“Seulgi,” Yerim starts, everything about her exhausted. “Will you please search flights for tonight?”

“It’s too late,” Seulgi argues. “And you brought such a beautiful dress for the ceremony. How about I find something for later? You can leave after the wedding, before the reception.”

Yerim lets out a long resigned sigh. “Whatever.”

Taking a deep breath, you draw up your legs, resting your chin on your knees. The silence is overwhelming, and you need to fill it.

“Chanyeol and I met in our first year of college.” Everyone’s head whips over to you, but you don’t notice, eyeing your knees as though you just discovered them. This is not what you thought you were going to say, but now you have to continue. “We met through Baekhyun. That’s how I met pretty much all of them, actually. How I met Seulgi. Sehun was the only one I knew before. Anyways, I’ve dated before but Chanyeol was different. He always was. I knew. From the moment we were introduced, I knew that he was the one. We both did, I think. It didn’t take long for us to start dating, and it was easy to be with him.”

You take a deep breath and try not to get lost in the past. “We were together all four years of college, and it was at the end of our senior year that Chanyeol proposed, right before our graduation.

“That’s when everything started falling apart,” you reveal in a small voice. “There was just so much we were juggling. Finals, graduation, careers, and now planning a wedding. We were fighting a lot, and I started to doubt the strength of our relationship. I also started to doubt myself. A part of me always felt like I was never good enough to be with Chanyeol. That he would grow tired of me, or find someone more beautiful, someone who understood his interests more, who didn’t call him stupid whenever he made a joke. And because of that fear, I just became Chanyeol’s Girlfriend. For four years, I was constantly by his side, trying to be perfect for him, and I lost myself along the way. Once I realized I was planning on doing that forever, I started panicking. The ring around my finger started feeling like a trap, like it was constricting me. I needed to discover myself, find out the things I, as an adult, as a woman,as me, enjoyed. I needed freedom. So… I called off the engagement.”

You hear numerous gasps throughout the room and remember everyone else. Well, it’s about time the others knew anyway. Neither you nor Chanyeol ever revealed the true reason behind your separation. You did it out of selfishness, afraid you’d be labeled a villain and lose everyone over your decision. When it comes to Chanyeol’s silence, well, you don’t know for sure. But, knowing him, he probably did it for the same reason you did. He was always protecting you.

“That was three years ago,” you press on, lifting your gaze to Yerim so that she knows you’re now addressing her. “Yesterday was the first time we’ve spoken or seen each other since. I’ve had zero contact with him. I had no idea he was bringing a date, let alone that it was you, and I doubt he even knew your connection to us. This wasn’t some elaborate plan to hurt you, Yerim. None of us would ever do that to you, especially Chanyeol.”

“He may be an asshole,” Baekhyun speaks for the first time tonight. “But he’s not cruel. If he ended things with you, it was because he didn’t want to lead you on. Knowing him, it was probably an attempt to protect you from himself.”

It’s eerie how Baekhyun’s statement mirrors your thoughts, but it’s truly just a testament of Chanyeol’s character.

He’s not a bad guy. Just a big idiot.

Now that your story has been told, all eyes are on Yerim as she absorbs all this new information.

“Okay,” she says so quietly you nearly miss it. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

You can only nod.

She goes to stand. “I’m going to bed.” She points at you. “I don’t want you here.”

Your shoulders slump for the nth time today, but you understand. Just because you finally confessed your past affair with her ex whatever-he-is doesn’t mean you automatically gain her forgiveness.

“She can stay with me,” Sehun says.

“And you.” She turns her attention to her sister. “You can stay in her room.”

Seulgi deeply frowns, but nods nonetheless, aware of the role she played in all of this.

“Night. See you all at the wedding, I guess.” Yerim shuffles out of sight, softly closing the door behind her.

“We should get going also,” you say. “Big day tomorrow.”

You head over to your room, changing into some pajamas and grabbing your purse and phone charger, the essentials.

When you’re back in the living area, the boys are all hovering by the door, waiting for you, while Seulgi slumps on the couch. Her legs spread wide, arms limp at her side, and head tilted over the back of the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

You call her name and she turns her head down to gaze blankly at you. “I’m sorry. I know, I should’ve done this yesterday.”

She waves off your apology. “You were going to tell her earlier and I stopped you. It’s my fault just as much as yours. See you tomorrow.”

You all give your farewells and exit the stuffy room. You take the few steps to Sehun’s, he opens the door and you’re slightly surprised when the other boys trail in after you.

You crowd around Sehun’s island.

“So….” Baekhyun purses his lips as he fixes you with a knowing look. “The mystery is finally solved.”

“Do you hate me now?” You ask quietly. You trace random patterns into the cool marble face of the counter.

“Why would we hate you?”

“For not telling you. For being the one to break Chanyeol’s heart. He was your friend before I was, I understand if you want to be on his side now.”

“Hey now,” Jongin starts gently, rubbing your arm. “We have always respected your relationship. It’s none of our business why you ended, which is why none of us asked. I mean, of course we were all devastated, and have told both of you as much, but at the end of the day, we aren’t the ones dating. I’m just glad cheating wasn’t involved. That’s what I have always thought happened.”

“Yeah, and about tonight.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “That’s all Chanyeol. We told him to stop drinking the whole time we were out, even going so far as to hide the bottles from him, but he kept finding them! Tonight isn’t your fault, this trip isn’t your fault, so don’t beat yourself up over it, alright?”

“Why was he so drunk anyways?” You ask, leaning more heavily onto the counter.

The boys all share a look.

“He ‘broke up’ with Yerim,” Sehun explains. “And everything started hitting him. That Myeon is getting married and that, well, he didn’t.”

“I think a lot of things he had been shoving down just came out all at once and he didn’t really know how to handle it.” Baekhyun shrugs.

That doesn’t make you feel any better. Another ball of sorrow grows in your throat and you clear it, not wanting to cry, especially for other people. Licking your lips, you swear you can still taste him there, the bittersweetness of nostalgia and your own neglected feelings.

“Are you going to be okay tomorrow?” Jongin asks, knowing you’re also going through the same thing as Chanyeol.

You nod. “Of course. I’m happy for Junmyeon, I’d never miss this.” Speaking of Junmyeon…. “Is…is Myeon okay?”

They all nod in affirmation. “He understood. Kept telling us to just let Chanyeol drink. He had a fun time, besides all that.”

“Good. I’m glad. If Chanyeol had ruined his bachelor’s party, I’d have no choice but to kick his ass.”

“We’d have to jump him, for sure,” Sehun agrees.

You chat for a little bit longer. There’s a soft knock and Jongdae slips in with a rather large bottle of soju. You all drain it as you catch him up on all that he’s missed. The shock on his face from your revelation is enough to bring out a chuckle from you, which only grows when he holds a hand out to Baekhyun, demanding him to pay up. Apparently, Junmyeon will be getting some winning money as well. Assholes.

Once the bottle of soju is empty and the boys are satisfied with the smile on your face, they take their leave.

The couch is large and comfortable enough to use as a bed, and after some back and forth with Sehun about your sleeping arrangements, you climb into your makeshift bed with the intention to finally give into the urge and cry yourself to sleep.

Sehun has other plans.

He crawls in after you, slipping soundlessly under the blanket he had room service bring up, and faces you wordlessly.

“Sehun,” you whine with a yawn. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t beat yourself up over what just happened.”

“What would make you think that?”

He rolls his eyes. “You can fool the others, but you can never fool me.”

“True,” you relent. “You know you were the only one that knew the truth, right? Not even Seulgi knew I was the one who called off the engagement.”

“Of course, I was. You can’t hide anything from me. I’ll admit, I did get a kick watching the others scramble and try to solve the mystery. Though, I’m shocked Chanyeol never told Baekhyun, even after all this time. It makes sense though. He’ll always put you first, even if that means ending things with his wedding date the day before said wedding.”

You bury your head into your pillow. Drunk Chanyeol consumed your mind. His desperate need for your forgiveness, the way his voice broke and his eyes searching for you as though your presence alone was enough for him, and that kiss….

“I can’t believe he kissed me.”

You wish he hadn’t. Not just because it exposed your shared secret to Yerim, but because of the implications of it. With that kiss you are forced to admit that Seulgi was right, that Chanyeol still has deep feelings for you, and that you—

“It was bound to happen.” Sehun breaks your train of thought. “He was fucked up. Like, he would not shut up about you. As soon as he got a little tipsy, it was you this, you that. How much he missed you, how proud he was of you. ‘How is it possible that she’s gotten even more beautiful since college? Baekhyun, didn’t you tell me she got fat?’ Junmyeon was like ‘she’d still be just as beautiful if she had gained weight’ and this fool goes, ‘god, I know’ and takes two shots back to back. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so damn pathetic.”

You let out a breathless laugh at Sehun’s terrible impersonation of Chanyeol, but peek up at the man. “He really said that?”

“Yeah.” Sehun says your name. “I know we had this conversation earlier, but you have to talk to him. All the things that were holding you back then don’t apply now. You both have grown a lot and are in better places. It’s never too late to start again. Chanyeol wants it, and I know you do too. You’re just latching onto a grudge you created against him to keep you away. It’s baseless, you know? And it’s a lie. You’re very obviously still in love with him. Soulmates work that way.”

“Soulmates,” you repeat skeptically, before sighing. “You’re right though, as you always are—”

“Finally, some gotdamn recognition around here,” he interrupts.

“Anyways, I should have talked to Chanyeol earlier. Really talked to him, not this back and forth dance we’ve been doing. But, there was no way I was going to talk about us when he had a girlfriend, who just so happened to be my friend. The best option was to just ignore him.”

“That was smart of you, but he doesn’t have a date anymore. We’re going to be here for three more days, the two of you still have plenty of time to talk. Get your closure and figure out what you want with him. If there is one thing the past couple days have shown, it’s that both of you have a lot to get off your chests.”

“You’re right.”

He smirks. “I know~”

“Ugh.” You finally settle into the blankets and close your eyes, expecting Sehun to head back to his bed, but he makes no point to move. “Are you going to stay here all night?”

“Are you going to cry soon?” He counter asks.

You check. To be honest, you feel a lot better after talking to Sehun. Your mind is a lot clearer. “No.”

“Either way, I’ll just stay here until you sleep. That way I know for sure.”

You groan. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep with you watching me?”

“Easily.”

And he is right. Once you’re comfortable, you’re out like a light.

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taglist @byunparklimchoi, @defloey, @trashlord-007

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seyvetch · 2 years ago

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Moved to place I grew up in some months ago tho was away for some time at dacha but just started recalling early school years.....

Very traumatic tho luckly it seems I either forgot or repressed enough detail to spare me the pain but......... not that one thing. Just that singular minute I remembered just now. Details are hazy and they were even just after it happened too. Dont remember why it happened (the final push) or what happened immidiately before or after.

If you read the trigger warning tags you probably suspect what event Im talking about. The one and only time in my life I tried to kill myself. I suggest you dont go reading further if this topic disturbs you or otherwise your curiocity or something else driving you isnt more than negative feelings youd get from it

Well anyway if I recall it was late primary/early middle school. My memmory isnt ythe greatest on the subject of my life in that period or in general tbh. Maybe my brain had to repress so much stuff it just cant form memmories that good now. Well I remember something just clicking. Something was a straw that broke a camels back. I cant recall what it was but I just wept and wanted to die. It was too much suffering for it to be worth living. I climed the stairs to second floor and midway tried to jump head first into stone floor. Dont remember what type of floor exactly but it was certaintly some kind of tiles with concrete underneath to my irrational panicked hormone filled child brain it seemed that I would die. In reality looking back I would probably just recieve head trauma. I remember my classmates physically stopping me and me feeling someyhing I dont quite recall about that fact. Was it anger that they didnt let me end my existance? Confusion that they stood by or participated in my bullying of which I cant recall any of it now thankfully or sadness that they only bothered to do something about my situation when I was there and not at any point before. Probably a mix of all those.

You know what the person from school told me in regards of why I should do this? "How would your parents feel about this?" as some sort of persuasion to not kill myself. I of course didnt kill myself or attempted for that matter any more in my life nor extent of my self harm was beyond picking at my dried cuts but it is more of a bad habbit or a stim. But you know what I think about that statement? What would my parents feel if I killed myself? As a measure of preventing suicide? It might be effective but many times its been the only reason I didnt go thru with it. What would others feel. How would that affect others. Sure it can be like a part of it but its cruel that my only reason to live many times was someone else. I mean it in this way: Im not living for me. Im not living bc I want to live in these cases. That fucked me up. I think it built a bit of resentment to those who would just be upset of I died or somehow were hurt. Bc I didnt learn how to find a reason for me to live an actual reason I learned to force myself to live for others. Its not a good coping strategy at long term. It just stops the main symptom and not the cause of it. For I dont know how long now. Years? I barely felt the drive to live. The WANT to live. The will to live. In some sense I think I might have died long ago. I do of course have wonderful moments that feel my whole being with happieness and pure desire to live to thrive but they are so fleeting... and I dont have the luxiry of good memmory to remember them for long if at all. And if I dont even have the motivation to love I barely take care of myself. Especially since most of the time my mental health and what can I only describe as disability manifested (from what I suspect many smaller causes maginfied by each other (death by a thousand paper cuts as it were)) making it harder. And there is barely any support. Most of time I bring up my issues they are eiyher didsmised as being blowm out of proportion or Im told to dealt with it die to my age or fact that Im "a man" (which also hurts bc Im femining leaning trans).

Now dont worry Im mot gonna do anything to myself I just needed to vent but I am in a bad mental space and its been i decline lately and I might not respond much or at all for some time and thanks for all who msg me it makes me feel slightly better and hopefully it will start becoming better in general soon.

Thanks for reading heres a pic of a cat I took as thanks for you actually going thru this.

#suicide mention #suicide mention tw #vent

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spade-riddles · 4 years ago

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Submission: Kaylor timeline 2019-2020

This is a atempt of maping the happenings surrounding kaylor in the last 3 years. Please keep in mind that i might forget some things, mostly from 2019 since my memory is actually horrible. I’ll try to include the most important things mainly so let me know if i missed something big. Also, feel free to add some kaylor nods, easter eggs on the girls’ social media, general stuff and correct me i fim wrong on dates or places. Oh quick disclaimer: most of this is Taylor focused because the last time i went on karlies instagram to look for the nashville selfie i actually wanted to puke or bury my face into a hole for the rest of eternety (ok, both) after seeing the jerk photos so if you have any important stuff please add it. Thank u!!!

Lover Era

- ME! MV release on lesbian visibility day (april 26th)

- City of Lover (funny enough, karlie was there in march ��)

- taylor’s pride post “lets show our pride...” (taylors ig june 1st)

- Promo for the MV with karlie’s hand on taylors ig 16 june post

- sc**ter *audible puke sound* buys taylors masters (june 30th)

- You Need To Calm Down MV (july 17th)

- Lover Title Track released 13 days after karlie’s bday (august 16th)

- Lover mv release which Taylor captioned on her ig post with YAIL lyrics.

- Lover Album Release (august 23rd)

- Miss Americana release (jan 31 2020) “gay pride... everything that makes me me” etc

- The Man MV release (feb 27th)

Here’s some posts with lover era easter eggs:

Link 1

Link 2

some inch resting posts:

eye theory ?!

gold rush 😉

paris captions:

Link 1

Link 2

(probably not that much of a proof much more of a koincidence since au revoir is a pretty common frase but whatever)

This masterpiece here during NYFW in 2019:

note: I think its pretty safe to assume that up until this point its obvious kaylor is still together. Theres exactly no reason why Taylor and Karlie would be referencing kaylor stuff and each other at this point if they weren’t together.

folklore & evermore Era (oh the start of a daydream and a nightmare)

- Not a lot going on at the moment post April 27, 2020

- Karlies very interesting posts:

Dancing in a Cardigan July 10th, 2020

Happy Place July 23rd, 2020

- Tamagochi June 25, 2020 and buns May 14, 2020

- folklore announcement (july 23rd)

Note: up until this point its also pretty much a concensus that they’re still together. Since Karlie hinted the folklore aesthetic and cardigan on her ig post, and Taylor changed the cardigan lyrics to “knew you’d come back to me” and wrote “the lakes” and obviously there is “peace”. From this point on, especially after the WB stuff and pregnancy rumors in September (?) things start to get kinda blurry and gaylors and kaylors start building different point of views. So heres what happens:

- Taylor releases the long pond sessions where she says that joe is WB. I feel like we kinda all believe he isn’t, the thing that gives it for me is mostly Taylor’s body language and the way she stutters when she says it. Also, its kinda weird that out of nowhere joe got this songwriting skills magically. Like, they’ve been “together” for four years and only now Taylor discoveres this man has better songwriting and composing skills than his actual job, idk sounds fishy to me but, you make the call.

- Pregnancy rumors starts flowing on both sides. Taylor quickly starts drinking a shit ton of wine to get her beloved swiffers to come to the realization that she is in fact not pregnant. Karlie’s rumors also starts flowing, and then the people! (?) article comes out confirming it and Karlie later posts a video on her instagram. Here’s where it gets messy. Ill try to explain shortly to you the narrative on the Kaylor side and why i don’t believe in the gaylor narrative. Obviously its your choice wheter you believe it or not.

- Kaylor: The baby is Taylor’s and Karlie’s (not gonna get into hows and stuff bc if it is actually real then it is invading their privacy too much, also speculating about this might trigger some people).

Things that back this theory up: obviously peace “give you a child”, karlie not tagging j*sh*a on her vids, that one 2,1/2 photo from the folklore photoshoot, buns and tamagochi, Taylor and Paul talking about parenthood in the Rolling Stone issue, and all the fertility imagery in evermore and folklore.

Karlie was in Cali in may until august, Taylor was also there. Jerk was on Ny or Miami cant exactly remeber. And it seems that this is what she wrote that one line “knew youd come back to me” in cardigan about. (IMO they [t and k] had some fight after the masters sale on the end of 2019 and took a break or something, so she would in fact come back to her, but just my opinion). So, karlie was there from may to august, karlie’s is on the end of her pregnancy, and if you do the math, she got pregnant sometime between june and july. Which makes it kinda impossible for the baby to be jerk’s (consequently ending the gaylor narrative) since he was in another place and karlie was on cali for like 4 months, if the baby was his, the baby would’ve been born already.

The gaylor narrative is mostly based on Taylor’s songs specially champagne problems, coney island, hoax, closure and exile.

Coney Island isn’t even necessarily a breakup song, it’s just simply a sad song, it is like death by a thousand cuts pt2, it gives the vibe that Taylor is sorry about a lot of things like not being able to thank Karlie “but when i walked up to the podium i think that i forgot to say your name”.

Like coney island, hoax is about the lows of their relationship but it’s clear in the song that taylor still loves karlie and would trade her for anything “don’t want no other shade of blue but you”

Closure and champagne: it just reminds me of Dianna for some reason i don’t even know how to explain it. Champagne Problems remind some of Dianna bc of i know places where she says “take my hand and don’t ever drop it”, to the gp that song is about harry(<3) and most songs that “are about him” are actually about Dianna. i do think it’s is kinda inspired by Karlie though.

Exile: honestly could be used to form a toe breakup narrative.

TBH we’ll probably never understand fully the story behind it. But Taylor also said that a lot of the albums are full of fantasy even thought they’re also inspired by real life situations.

Thank u for reading!! this is obviously my opinion on the matter and my take on the whole situation. feel free to believe whatever you want, and add stuff i forgot sending u lots of love <3

#thank you for putting together this timeline #submission

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gay-prentiss · 3 years ago

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Hi, this ask isn’t hate, I’m asking kindly, please don’t reply if this is uncomfortable or anything.

I understand that after your 18th birthday you become a legal adult (16 in some countries), but I don’t think that saying 19, 20, 21 or even 22 is a good age to give consent. I mean when I was 20 I had no idea of what I was doing and I was very immature. Maybe that’s just my case but, wouldn’t it be better to make fics where y/n is a little bit older? Because it looks like that’s triggering for some people here (yeah anon, we’re talking to you)…

Age gaps are fun to be honest (iykyk) but I think an age gap like for example 28 and 43 (which is Aaron’s age on first season) is as fun as saying y/n is 22 and Aaron is 37. Anyways, this person who seems to be so angry at the Hotch writers should take a long walk outside and maybe realize that the reader is not a teenager in the stories or anything like that so there’s not a reason to say you are writing problematic fics.

hey anon!

i wanna start off by saying i agree with you. when you turn 18 youre not just enlightened with all the info you need to be a functioning adult. it is a learning process. i know that my understanding of consent has changed since i turned 18. and even in their early 20’s some people arent aware.

however, the adults writing these works of fiction, have a healthy understanding of consent and most of them are older than me (20). ive seen it. also, like i said before, anything nsfw thats put on the internet should be interpreted as fantasy. just because youre 25 writing about fucking this specific fictional character, doesnt mean that youd actually go and do it. and if you wanted to, guess what? none of my or anyone elses business!! there is an actual conversation that can and should be had about young adults and their understanding of consent, but have the conversation. dont get in someone’s asks on anon like a bitch (not directed at you, directed at the fuckwit harassing people) and say absolutely abhorrent things about peoples friends and their abuse. yes asshole. ive seen it and youre sick.

if age gaps is something that triggers you, that is fine. thats your experience and youre allowed to have that. but this is a site where you control what you see. block the tag and move on. if its not tagged, let! the writer! know! i know theyll be more than happy to add whatever trigger tag you need to not see it. cnc triggers me to high hell sometimes. you know what im not going to do? get in peoples asks and say disgusting things about them and their experiences because i didnt like what they wrote.

anyways, thank you for this anon. i appreciate you starting a conversation instead of being an insensitive cunt lol. have a wonderful day💛

#abuse mention #cnc mention #nat answers #nice anons💛

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em0avacado · 4 years ago

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I’m Not Worried - Ezekiel Reyes

trigger warning : none. maybe mentions of sex?

word count : 800 and sum words.

gif credits where it’s due

“See my man would never let me wear something like that out.” your drunk friend slurred her words. Furrowing together your brows, you glanced towards her with a raised eyebrow. It was a Friday night after a particularly difficult week, and youd taken your friends out to the clubhouse where a party was currently raging through its four walls, and the lot around it. Sweaty bodies clogged the grounds, horny couples, even situationally, took up seats and corners, trying to get away with the nastiest of activities, getting off on the crowd surrounding them and one another. The smell of booze filtered through the air, smoke floating in the air in clouds. Your brain was fuzzy, and you had a hard time understanding what she meant.

“Why would you let a man tell you what you can, and cannot wear?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, your eyes squinted at her. What you wore was simple, you didn’t dress up often at all, neither was it something you particularly had occasions for. But you were hot, and you were confident in who you were, in your body, and even IF you weren’t, no one had to know, and absolutely NO ONE, not even your boyfriend, had a right to tell you what to dress like. Your simple black dress hugged you where you wanted it to, making your body stand out, you wore a flannel that belonged to Ezekiel, a navy blue and black one, on multiple occasions had her told you that it was YOUR colour, and no one rocked it like you did. Empowering you further more, if there was one thing that Ez did that none of your ex’s had, it was boosting your confidence.

“Well he says i shouldn’t dress like a slut, that my body is his temple.” she confessed, you weren’t able to pick up the look that clouded her face.

“What the fuck?” you asked, feeling enraged by he obvious strains your friends boy toy had on her. Sitting up more, you brought your hands out in front of you, like you were holding something down. “first of all, you’re not an object, you can’t be owned, second, slut shaming? your own girl? in 2021?” you felt yourself getting louder, your friends eyes widened, she knew what the expression on your face meant, which made her immediately regret bringing it up. “I just know it’s small, he acts like it’s small.” You stood up, hand against your chin as you got to thinking “YOUR body? is HIS temple? HIS? girl - if you don’t d-“

“you say that like you don’t fuck my brother and scream ‘this pussy is yours ezekiel! yes!’ “ interrupted Angel, mocking your moans, making his voice high pitched, making faces at you. You reeled back your hand and balled it, punching him in the shoulder before flipping him off.

“Fuck off, Reyes.” you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him, glancing back to your friend who was a mess of giggles, making big button eyes at your boyfriends older brother, which gave you an idea. You’d have to set the two up the moment you talked her into dumping that boyfriend of here.

“Jesus fuck you ragingly prolapsed asshole.” he hissed, rubbing the spot on his arm you just punched.

Gilly, who you didn’t even know was around, snorted so hard beer came shooting out his nose, and you started cackling hard. That’s when you spotted Ez heading over, feeling his muscular arm drop around your shoulders and you glanced up at him with a small smile, pecking his cheek quickly.

“Whys Gilly a gusher?” he asked.

“He’s laughing at my pain.” said Angel, his hand still over his arm. “She HIT me! Really hard! And I think my arms gonna fall off, man, if I lose my arm I can’t ride! Then how am I gonna get girls?!” he asked in a panic, his brother sighing at his dramatics.

“You’ll survive.” Ez rolled his eyes.

“But what if I don’t?!” he asked frantically, and you slapped your palm to your head. “Then I’ll have to live with you forever, I’ll be weirdly cool uncle Angel that lives in the basement and only comes up when the kids are at school, and I’ll walk in when y’all make baby number thirteen!!” he started fake hyperventilating, fanning himself.

“th- are we old school mormons now?” you asked, furrowing your brows. “i don’t know how my hips will hold with thirteen babies..” you confessed, and everyone started laughing. “Angel.” you started again. “If you do lose your arm, don’t worry, you can live with us, and there won’t be kids, we’ll have our hands full with you.” you said, genuinely, too.

“okay..” he sighed softly, making doe eyes “that’ll be okay.”

Queue your eye roll.

“anyways.” you sighed, turning to Ez. “Baby.” catching his attention. “Why don’t you tell me what to wear?” you asked, your friends attention on you too, you wanted her to see how an actual man would respond to something like that.

“You mean other than you beating my ass for trying to tell you what to do?” he asked rhetorically, you nodded and bid silently for him to continue. “Cause I can fight.” he shrugged simply.

tag list :

@queenbeered

@mayans-sauce

#ez x reader #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #fanfic #ez reyes

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omegawolverine · 4 years ago

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since ive gained so many new moots in the last few hours i thought id give myself a proper introduction sooo let's go!

hi my name is damien, im 17 and i use they/them pronouns. im a slytherin, intp, 5w6 and a cancer too, if any of that junk matters to you!

this blog is primarily used to post things i find funny/interesting along with my hyperfixations, so while im mainly posting dream smp content now, ill probably throw in the occasional post from a past hyperfixation of mine or just some shit i find amusing.

just an fyi: i occasionally post triggering content but that stuff is tagged so as long as you have the words blacklisted, we should be good! just lmk if theres anything else youd like me to tag so you can avoid it!

um, quick byf ig?

-dni if u fit basic dni criteria

-im okay with adults following me just like. dont be creepy obviously lol

-i sometimes spam other hyperfixations (namely anime and kpop) so if u dont want ur dash to be occasionally filled with my bullshit then u probs shouldnt follow lol

-while im always up for a small, civil debate when it comes to dumb shit like tv shows, i am extremely uncomfortable with genuine arguing or "hate". if ive done something wrong, please just let me know in a private message. please also use tone indicators in these types of discussions (or at least when you first bring it up to me so i know you're being genuine)!

-i have a lot of problematic hyperfixations so if i ever post something that makes you uncomfortable please just unfollow/mute the tags i use for it instead of sending me a pissed off anon or something lol

-i swear A Lot, especially in the dms. lmk if that makes you uncomfortable when u first dm me and ill either tone it down or not swear at all (i wont not swear in my public posts tho lol)

-my dms are always open and id love to talk to some new people, however, im a very slow responder and i tend to have dry texts unless im talking about something that excites me a lot! i cant really help that tbh but if i seem uninterested im most likely not, i just dont know how to jazz up a conversation to save my fucking life

-i reclaim slurs sometimes so if ur uncomfortable with that, mute words or dont follow (i can reclaim the f slur, r slur, n slur, s slur, d slur, q slur and the t slur. if u dont know what those slurs are and u wanna ask me go ahead lol im just not saying them now so people arent made uncomfortable)

and that's basically all the important shit I can think of! if u have any questions, my dms and asks are always open! thanks :)

#shit self #this was a pain to write lol

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pandastern · 4 years ago

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Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 13: Same Chains - Different Colours

If youd like to be tagged to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist II AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 1715

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

By the time Artemis arrived at the tribunes where her class were seated, she still hadn’t quite shaken off her most recent discovery. Her classmates greeted her, Iida and Ochako making some space for her to sit down.

“Hey, Artemis! They announced you're dropping out of the competition. Are you doing okay?” Ochako asked.

“You missed the Cavalry Battle! Most of our classmates made it into the final round,” Iida explained in full class rep mode, gesturing with his signature hand chop motion.

Despite their enthusiasm, Artemis could sense the concern beneath her friends’ expressions.

“Yes, I’m okay. I guess I wasn’t as healed as I thought I was, so they took me out of the competition.” Artemis sighed inwardly and tried her best to crack a smile, despite the discomfort she felt. “I’m… sorry I worried you.”

“We’re your friends! You’re allowed to make us worry once in a while,” said Ochako.

Artemis frowned slightly, but decided not to respond. Was it really that natural to worry for someone? These people barely knew her, and yet all of them acted like they’d been friends for years.

Taking a deep breath, she put on her best friendly face and listened as Kaminari and Sero behind her updated her on the latest events. She was a little surprised to find out that Ojiro had dropped out voluntarily, though she could understand his reasoning. For some people, pride was very important. More so than results.

“It’s as if that Shinsou guy brainwashed me or something. I don't exactly know what he did or what his quirk is, but Midoriya had better be careful,” Ojiro grumbled once he’d finished his story.

“Shinsou?” Artemis asked. “Wait… wasn't he the guy who tried to start shit with us? The fuzzy purple head?”

“Yep, that’s the one. Midoriya is up against him in the next fight. I just wish I could give him enough pointers to win.”

“Brainwashing, huh?”

That was an interesting quirk, Artemis thought. How was a person like that not in the Hero course? When you considered the possibilities a quirk like that could give you during fights, it seemed stupid and an incredible waste not to utilise powers like that for the Hero course. Then again, it explained his antagonistic attitude.

Before she could dive deeper into her thoughts, a lady with a snack cart pushed into their seating area, offering food and drinks. To Artemis’s absolute delight, she spotted a selection of much-needed energy drinks.

“Oh God, yes!” she groaned.

Finally, something was going her way today.

She jumped up, pushed forward and grabbed two cans of her very own survival liquid and a bag of chips. The thought of the treats was already lifting her mood. She’d paid and had just pushed past Denki to get to her seat, when suddenly a hand shot forward and grabbed the drinks in her hand.

“Oi, what-”

“Should you really be drinking that garbage, dumbass?” Bakugou growled into her ear.

Artemis hadn't even noticed the bane of her existence entering their seating compartment. When had he gotten up here? The sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine and her stomach lurched again.

“Are you gonna police what I drink now?” she hissed, though she didn’t look up at him.

The scent of burnt sugar wafted around her, making her heart race. Fucking hell.

Instead of arguing further, Bakugou pulled the cans out of her grasp and put them back in the cart before handing her an iced tea.

Words couldn't explain how badly Artemis wanted to throw his ass over the fence and watch his body plummet several stories down into the arena. She let out a frustrated growl and finally met his eyes, ready to snap at him, an action she regretted instantly.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realised just how close Bakugou was standing next to her. It also didn't help that her brain instantly replayed the scene in the infirmary. Heat spread across her cheeks.

Thankfully, Bakugou seemed to have the same problem, and Artemis decided that even though she was in desperate need of caffeine, it wasn’t worth causing a scene right here in the open. Especially since she now realised that everyone was staring at them.

She pulled away with a huff, took the tea and sat back down, very determined not to look at Bakugou again so as to calm down her rapid heartbeat. What the hell was wrong with her, anyway?

“Dickwad,” she muttered to herself.

The curious whispers of the classmates who had witnessed the whole spectacle didn’t go unnoticed by her. However, she opted that ignoring it was the better strategy for now. Stubbornly sipping at the drink in her hand, she tried to focus her attention on the competition in the arena.

Artemis watched as her friend Midorya scored the first victory against Shinsou. And while she was happy for her friend, she couldn’t help but be more interested in watching Shoto Todoroki fight next. The words of his father echoed in her mind, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She’d never paid much attention to the quiet boy, mostly because he usually prefered to be alone.

As Midoriya and Todoroki’s flames clashed in the arena, Artemis realized that she’d never seen him use the fire side of his quirk before today. And seeing Endeavor’s reaction to his son activating his left side told her why.

With a loud roar, the number two hero’s voice echoed through the entire arena: “Shoto, have you finally accepted yourself? Good! It all begins from here. With my blood, you’ll be able to surpass me. You will fulfill my desire!”

Artemis’s body stiffened as the memories of her father started to flood her brain.

Your power is my gift! You shall pave the way for New Olympus!

Why was it that men like Endeavor and her father always glorified their own blood, thinking it justified to turn the people around them into tools, not caring about the price other people had to pay for their hunger for power?

Ice spread through Artemis’s veins. She understood. And for the first time, she saw Todoroki. He was like her, in a way, rejecting the chains that bound him to that monster he had to call father. Todoroki was a tool, a weapon in the eyes of his maker, existing purely for the selfish gains of a Hero who didn’t deserve his title.

The revelation hit her like a gunshot, flinging her back into the dark, cold room she’d once called her home. A cage built only for her, robbing her of any humanity she possessed, until she couldn't feel anymore. The rage she saw in his eyes was the same that burned inside her.

A warm hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her out of the endless stream of memories that threatened to drag her into the dark.

“Artemis?”

Instinctively, she swatted away the hand that had touched her without consent, then flinched. Her head whipped around to the person who’d said her name.

Ochako gave her a concerned look. “Are you all right? You’re as white as a sheet. Do you feel unwell?”

Artemis took a deep breath and forced herself to smile at her friend. “No, I’m… I’m okay. Sorry.”

She could tell Ochako didn’t quite believe her, but she didn’t pry, which made Artemis very grateful. After all, her story wasn’t something she wanted to tell anyone. It was bad enough that she had to carry the memories inside her heart, having them haunt her dreams the moment she closed her eyes.

These flashbacks were getting annoying. It frustrated her that she had no control over what could trigger another episode, and the lack of caffeine that usually kept her brain buzzing and distracted didn’t help either. She’d have to come up with more effective ways to keep her brain busy from now on.

The Festival progressed without any further surprises. Artemis tried to pay attention to what was happening inside the arena as best as she could, but her thoughts kept drifting off. To her annoyance, the time her attention peaked was when Bakugou was standing in the ring. Watching him fight was fascinating, not that she would ever admit that to anyone.

It seemed to her that Bakugou was made of pure determination and strength. Every attack, every explosion, was well-planted. The man was a ferocious fighter and strategist, brimming with talent. So, it didn't come as a shock to her that Bakugou easily moved forward in the competition into the finale. And yet something felt off. Artemis couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something in Bakugou’s demeanor told her he was growing more and more frustrated by the second.

Unlike the fight with Midoriya, Todoroki seemed to refuse to use his fire again, which seemed to rile Bakugou up even more.

Artemis leaned over to Midoriya, who’d joined them on the tribunes after his fight with Todoroki, and whispered into his ear. “Say, is it just me, or does Bakugou seem more aggressive than usual?”

“Hm, so you’ve noticed too,” Midoriya replied with a serious look on his face. “I can't be sure, but it seems to me he’s taking Todoroki’s behaviour as a personal insult.”

“Insult? Why? Because he’s not using flames?”

Midoriya nodded. “Kacchan has this mindset that if you don’t give a hundred percent, it’s because you think he’s not worth it.”

What was it Bakugou had said to her in the infirmary? If you can't give your best, why are you even here?

No wonder he was screaming at Todoroki to use his flames. In his head, he probably thought since Todoroki had used both sides of his quirk in the fight against his childhood rival Midoriya, he was looking down at Bakugou by not doing the same thing.

He didn't understand what using the fire side meant for Todoroki, what was connected to that part of him. Artemis wasn't sure he could even if he was told.

She couldn't explain why, but watching that fight was painful. Maybe it was because no matter whether Bakugou or Todoroki ended up standing last, neither of them would be able to enjoy their victory.

Tagg list:

@sammyluvzz @chicledechoclo

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #gravity #fanfiction #mha fic #bnha fic #mha x oc #mha x reader #bnha x oc #bnha x reader #bakugou x oc #bakugou x reader

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les-bi-cons · 5 years ago

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♡ Requests Details ♡

i mostly focus on bi lesbian stuff but ill make icons of any identity !!!

Please make sure to include:

Character name

Series theyre from

The identity(s) youd like*

*and please dm or submit a flag to me if its an uncommon identity/flag so i know to use the right ones you want!

*also for some identities i default to using alternate flags, you can see the ones i mostly use by checking the following: polyam, lesbian, straight, heteroflexible, homoflexible. if you want just one specific flag, even if its not one of these, just let me know!

((i only use alternate ones bc the main polyam flag i find eyestraining and unappealing, and i have no clue what to use for a main lesbian flag bc it doesnt seem like the communitys really settled on one))

Please give credit when you use one of my icons or transparents!!

Bonus: I also like doing edits on icons! if theres any particular thing/specification youd like for the icon, please let me know! for some examples for what i mean, i can do stuff like:

add sparkles

heart eyes

blush

alter coloring (some things may be harder depending how much you want altered so i may not be able to do it)

making transparents of official images*

etc !

*u can send me an official image if u want a particular image used, regardless if its already transparent or not! i also often make transparents, even without requests for it.

Additional info: if you make a request that has the same character and identity combo as an icon ive done before, ill message you to make sure uve seen them- but i dont mind to do another request again with a different image of the character (and/or with different edits), so just let me know if ud like that or are fine with the older icon ive done!

What i will/wont do:

for series, i dont have any that triggers me, so im fine with doing whatever! if this changes at any point ill update this. plus all series are tagged, so if anyone doesnt want to see some, they can be filtered!

for identities, ive gone into what i can/may not/wont do here and my discomforts around some things, and ill update it if more things come up!

additionally: i can absolutely make icons with flags that represent non-queer things (like a flag for a mental illness), or are even purely aesthetic/represent something non-identity related, too!

#icon making #lgbt+ icons #lgbt+ pride #pride flags #bi lesbian

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queenofthearchitect · 5 years ago

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You did what?

This was requested by: @biforrollynch

Request: Hiiiiii idk if youd be comfortable with this request but could i have a seth/Oc fic where the girl has relapsed and harmed herself after a couple years being clean and she doesnt wanna tell seth but he notices and she thinks seth is gonna leave her for it and she hates herself until seth makes her see shes everything? ofc he doesnt leave her and he helps her through it and tells her how important she is to him and how much he loves her??

Warnings: cussing, self harm, angst, fluff

Trigger warning: despression, and self harming. Self harming and something everyone deals with some point in their life and if you are dealing with it please talk I love you guys.

Tag list. @theworldofotps @writtingrose @new-zealand-chic @sassyspacedust @wolfiegal98 @haharollins @the-beastslayers-queen

Please enjoy 🦖

Seth was gone on again, I felt alone even though he was a phone call away it just wasn’t the same. I was downstairs elbowdeep in dishwater when my phone dinged, I walked over to it and it was from WWE and I clicked it and my stomach dropped Seth and his coworker Becky Lynch were smiling together and a little to close if you ask me. I put my phone down and tried to calm myself, I continued washing dishes when I got pulled from my thoughts. I grabbed my phone again and I saw it was from Twitter this time I opened it, I saw the same picture from the WWE of Seth and Becky.

I read some of the comments, Seth had always told me not to because of it the jealous fans but I always did and this time I knew he was right. I took about 10 minutes to read some of the comments when I had enough I threw my phone and I went upstairs, i wiped the tears from my eyes. I grabbed my razor blade and I slid the blade across my hip, I felt the anxiety leave my body but it was filled with another emotion that was regret. I knew cutting myself was not only hurting me but it was hurting Seth and I’s relationship.

After I cute myself the first time, I kept thinking what would happen if Seth saw and what if he left me? I can’t loose him. I walked to the mirror pulled the top of my shorts down and I slid the blade slowly across my skin at first but then I moved quickly while I put five more lines down my hip. A few hours Seth had came home, and my stomach dropped I stared at my now new cuts and I quickly cleaned the blood and I put on some shorts, when he came into the bedroom, he smiled at me and kissed my head. “Hey beautiful did you miss me? I’ve missed you.” I nodded and I kissed his lips.

He pulled away from the kiss and raised an eyebrow. “Okay Olivia what’s going on?” I looked up and him and forced a fake smile “nothing babe I’m fine.” He pursed his lips together and looked into my eyes. “Olivia have you been crying?” I got out of his grasp and I moved away from him. “I said I’m fine Seth okay.” I sighed and I walked out the bed room. I was fighting back tears, for the first time in a long time I felt ugly and it was my fault.

I was cooking downstairs for Seth, I reached for a bowl on the top self little did I know Seth was walking into the kitchen at the time. “Olivia what is that?” I grabbed the bowl and got off my tippy toes, I turned and looked at him. “What’s, what baby?” *i looked at him and smiled while he his hands rested right above my ass. “These Olivia.” He raises my shirt some and pulled my shorts down a little bit. “That Olivia, why did you do that?” My smile dropped a little bit more and more while he waited for my response.

“It’s not important Seth it’s not a big deal, I don’t want to make something out of nothing.” I slipped out of his arms and continued to make dinner. “It’s not important my ass, also it may not be a big deal to you but it is to me.” I sighed and I continued to toss the salad I was currently making. “Seth look I love you and I would love to talk to you but I don’t think you would understand.” He let out a scoff and crossed his muscular arms. “Olivia I can you just have to let me in, you’ve shut everyone out and won’t let anyone in.”

I looked at me and I let out a laugh. “Yeah and when I shut everyone out you were the first to leave.” Before I could even take a breath he started talking. “Olivia that’s not fair and you know it, I told you why I left.” I rolled my eyes while I kept tossing the salad. “Yeah and I’m sure you went straight to her when you did.” I turned around and crossed my arms while leaning against the countertop looking at him. “Her? Who’s her Olivia cause I didn’t ever cheat on you.” I pushed some hair behind my ear and I was trying to keep calm but I couldn’t any longer.

“Becky, becky is the her, I seen the picture of you and her together WWE made a post and it soon got to me by some fans and a few of our coworkers, you guys looked happy together.” He put his arms down and walked over and wrapped his arms around me. “S-So what your saying is you did this over me?” I looked up at him and then laid against his chest. “No Seth I didn’t do it over you, I did it because the comments that were made and what our coworkers implied.”

I scoffed and I shoftedbme weight on my other side. “Seth you don’t get it, I don’t like her all up on you.” “Olivia your jealous really? I haven’t given you a reason to doubt me at all who cares what others say.” I looked at him and shook my head and I walked towards the door with Seth hot on my heels. I went to our bed room and I grabbed my car keys and put on some shoes, Seth kept calling my name and kept asking where I was going but I didn’t answer him. I wasn’t going to let him see me cry.

I drove and sat in the Waffle House parking lot and my phone kept going off, I had ten miss calls from Seth and at least fifteen text messages from him. I was going to givebin to him like I always did if he didn’t anything from my point of view then there was no more use of arguing, I was tired of it all I don’t know what to do anymore. I was pulled from my thoughts when my phone started going off and I looked at it and I saw the caller ID and answered it. “hello?” I waited before my best friend Renee finally spoke. “Hey girly Seth called dean and he told me to call you so thats why I’m calling not that I don’t love you.”

I smiled at her words and I start playing with my hair while I explained to her what happened, I got myself up all worked up again. I started crying but Renee told me not to, she gave me great advice to just cool off then just go back home cause apparently Seth was worrying himself sick. I rolled my eyes and hung up my phone. I turned my car back on I start to drive home, I saw a Starbucks and I pulled into it he could wait a little bit longer. Starbucks always seemed to help calm me down I don’t know if it was the smell of coffee or just drinking it.

After I got my White chocolate mocha with whip cream from Starbucks I got in my car and I head back home, when I arrived home I felt anxious. I got out of my car with my Starbucks in hand, I decided to just ignore him until I drank my drink cause I’m emotionally drained. I didn’t want to argue anymore but I’m not about to get talked to like I was a child. I twisted the doorknob and I walked inside, I put my keys on the key ring and stopped in my tracks when I seen dinner was done with a little note I picked it up and quickly read it.

Olivia.

When ever you want to talk I’m upstairs in the bed room, I’ve already eaten so don’t worry about me you eat and I’ll clean up okay by the way the chicken was great and so was the salad. I love you!

~ your boyfriend Seth

I just say the note down and I continued to sip on my mocha, I made a plate and started eating. After I was finished I started putting the food away and I started doing dishes, Seth came downstairs and looked at me “hey babe I know your probably still upset but I just worry about you and I love you and if anything ever happened to you.” I sipped on my coffee and continued doing dishes. “Olivia I don’t think I did anything to deserved the silent treatment.” I looked at him and put the dishes on the dishstrainer. “Seth I know you care but your not my dad okay, I love the fact that you care but you don’t see anything from my view.”

He sighed and held me closer letting his body warmth wrap around me, taking his scent in making me calm down some. “Babe I know what you mean I just wanted to let you know I’m only in love with you and no one will ever pull us apart.” I looked up at him, I pulled him down and our lips connected. When we pulled away both of us breathing heavily. “Seth I know I just so scared you are going to leave eme for some one else, that’s why I hid the cuts from you and I didn’t intend on you to find them cause I’m always scared your going to leave me.”

He smiled softly at me and left a small little peck on my lips, he pull me to the couch with him. “Olivia I would never leave you, I’m always going to love you through anything, I’m not going to let one little slip up chase me away and not love you because I do Olivia and I plan on making you my wife one day.” I smiled at him and snuggled into him. “Promise?” He smiled softly and started rubbing my shoulder. “I promise Olivia I won’t ever let anything come between us but you got to start talking to me about things instead of cutting okay babe.” I nodded my head and I kissed his neck and down his shoulder and shown his arm.

“How did I get so lucky to have you Seth Rollins?” He smiled and kissed my head. “Well if it makes you feel any better baby I haven’t always been this way, it’s taken a lot of growth and me growing up to get to where I am and now that I have you I don’t plan on doing anything to screw that up.” I smiled and sat in his lap and smashed our lips together. “I love you Seth Rollins.” He smiled at me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I love you Olivia so much, now come on let’s go cuddle.” I nodded and he stood up with my legs wrapped around his waist and while he carried me to our bed room where spent all night making up for our fighting.

A/N: I finally got this done and I loved writing it, I hope you all enjoy it and I love you guys so much for all the support and love y’all give me, life gets in the way but you guys and writing are my get away so I’m so greatful also sorry if this was long I wanted to make this one fic instead of 2. ❤️❤️

#wwe #wwe imagine #amandawrites #wwe x reader #seth rollins #seth rollins x reader #wwe superstars #seth freakin rollins #seth rollins fan fic #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins x oc #seth rollins fluff

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winchester-reload · 6 years ago

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I accidentally drunk-posted this to ao3 last night, so I might as well post it here too since it’s episode-related. There’s a second half I’m not done with yet, but this bit stands on its own as a coda, or whatever.

Pairing: Dean/Cas

WC: 1400

tags: first, kiss, angst, episode 14x12 pre-coda

also on ao3

Cas came into the bunker like a thunderstorm, expression cloudy and eyes hot enough to start brush fires. He dropped the big book that’d been tucked close to his chest onto the library table in front of Dean, and it coughed dust as the water-warped pages accordioned together, fluffed up again. Kicked the old, thread-bound cover back, revealing the yellow vellum page; Possessionem, atque tutelam &, Vatican Ed. 1723, it said.

Dean uncurled from his book, hands slipping to the edge of the mahogany as he pulled in tight. Cas wasn’t supposed to be back yet. Last text Dean got said maybe Tuesday would see him in Kansas, and that meant Dean wasn’t supposed to have to deal with this. He should have already been gone.

Wonderful.

He cleared his throat. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, trying to keep it light.

“Oh, that?” Cas puffed, carelessly spilling into the chair opposite Dean. The airiness of his response was drowned out by the vinegar he had pickling his words. “It’s a book, Dean.”

“Well, shit, Cas. You don’t say—?”

“Yes. It’s a book that Jack and I managed to track to— and retrieve from—a catacomb in New York. Now, ask me why we went to all that trouble.”

Dean hesitated. Then, “Why?” because he was nothing if not a glutton for punishment.

“Well, because we heard it had some particularly potent protection sigils, which, might— ” He pecked an elbow onto the tabletop, twisted his hand in an overly-animated open shrug “—hypothetically—be beneficial to someone harboring an unwanted invader. Why? What did you do this last week?”

It was baited. Dean didn’t need the all caps, period-after-each-word, version of it to see that. He chewed his cheeks, slid his copy of Vonnegut away. Dog-eared pages flat against the table now until someone else bothered to pick it up. “Okay,” he said scratching his neck. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you talked to Sam.”

“What would give you that impression?”

“Cas, it’s a ma’lik box—”

“Yes—” Cas said, mocking, “I’m familiar with them.”

It triggered that little muscle twitch at the back of Dean’s jaw. “Okay, here we go—” and Cas shot back out of his chair.

“Jack and I were out trying to find literally anything that might help you, and all the while you were out building some stupid, secret box to go bury yourself in— And you weren’t even going to tell me—? So, yes, Dean. Let’s “go”,” he spat, throwing the quotes. “Why are you so impossible?”

“Alright, back off—” Dean bristled. He wanted to keep it civil—fuck, he needed to. The last thing he wanted was to have to ruminate on a fight with Cas for the next forever-billion-years, but the asshole was a button-pusher. Always had been. “I get it, okay? You’re pissed. You wanna be pissed, be pissed, but it ain’t gonna change anything. Billie said what she said.”

Cas rounded on him surprisingly quick, leveled a look so dark, it practically bred its own shadows. “No,” he said, flat, “you’re right, of course, it doesn’t change anything. But do you know what does, Dean? The fact that you’re lying!”

A fingernail of shame suddenly surprised Dean, twisted into his chest. “No—” he stumbled. This was getting away from him quick. Too quick. He scoffed, smiled, tried to brush it away. “Uh, no. You’re wrong—”

“Uh, yes. I’m right—” Cas contested. “See, because if Billie’s answer was to bury you with Michael at the bottom of the Pacific, there would have been no death note to hand you— because, in that scenario, Dean, you’d never die! And maybe Sam doesn’t know that, but I do!” He plucked his chest, tie swinging as he leaned in. It dredged up all those old, angelic chills Dean had filed in the archives of his memory; the weight Cas carried with him like churning ozone when he was all keyed up. “So, why don’t you tell me what the book really said?” he suggested with a low growl. “What you’re actually running from.”

Dean swallowed, tried to hold Cas’ eye, failed. They were close enough now that Dean was all but boxed in his chair, and butterflies played his pulse in response, kicked his heart up into his throat. “Okay, you’re—” he started. Then, “But, that’s totally—” and he stopped, watched Cas’ balled fists turn white at the knuckles. Fuck. “Did you tell Sam?”

“No, but I will tell him. I’ll tell him right now.”

“Don’t—”

“Then what did it say?”

“It said I die old,” Dean muttered, and it was like prying nails from his ribs just to get it out. “ It said I die happy. Natural causes. No Michael. No monsters.”

Cas blinked, caught off guard. The anger in his face diffused then fused again into something so much more knotted up. “I don’t understand—”

“There’s nothing to understand because it doesn’t matter! All the rest of ‘em said I die bad, Cas. All of ‘em! Michael burnin’ me out while he destroys the world—!”

“How does ignoring this one spot of hope fix that?”

“That ain’t hope! I don’t know what to do with that— I don’t even know where to begin to try to make something like that happen! The box is what fixes it! The box, I know how to do!”

Cas’ fingers spread, hands coming up like he wanted to strangle Dean, but couldn’t bring himself to get close enough. “Did it ever occur to you—?” he said slowly. Eyes rolling closed before peeling open again. “—that, maybe, your first step in accomplishing a happy ending, is to stop running? To stop this— suicidal ideation? To just... love, and let people love you?”

Dean shook his head, Cas’ words pooling at the hinge of his jaw and making it hurt. “It wouldn’t matter,” he said, looking at the bookshelves, the corners. Anywhere but Cas.

“Why—?”

“Because no one's gonna love me—” Dean spilled. “Who’s gonna love me like this? An archangel stuffed up in my attic and the rest of me so fucking screwed to hell, I can’t even sleep on a good night!”

Cas balled hands into his own chest, shoulders high and body tight like they were both about to go over some invisible cliff if he didn’t stop the vehicle soon. “I love you!” he pleaded. “Sam loves you! Your family— You are not unloved, Dean!” He had tears in his eyes, but it was easier to ignore them.

Dean shut his eyes, heat washing him. The image of Cas dying on an old couch at the back of the barn flared fresh in his brain— I love you, I love all of you— He tried to swallow it, but it was too sour. Tried to rub it away with the heel of his hand, but it only spread, made speckles. He shook his head, instead, pulled his already loose collar looser. “No, I… Not that kinda love,” he said quietly.

Cas suddenly deflated, arms falling to his sides, weight shifting between his feet. He sunk to the floor at Dean’s knees, looked up, face raw and open and done. “Sam loves you,” he said again quietly. “Jack loves you. Your mother—”

“Cas—”

“—loves you…” He suddenly touched Dean’s knee, stretched up onto his own, wedged between Dean’s legs, quiet and hot, cheeks wet with tears as he pulled all that electric energy in. “But, I—” He grabbed Dean’s face, cradled it between his hands as Dean’s fingers clawed into the fabric at Cas’ sleeve— holding him there, holding him back, he wasn’t sure which. “I love you,” Cas whispered. Something in Dean cracked, split open. He let their foreheads brush. Their noses.

Let Cas kiss him, soft and slow.

Cas kissed like he’d imagined it a thousand times, mapped it. Studied it over and over and over again, until every jump of his lips timed with the thrum of Dean’s heartbeat. The curl of his fingers at Dean’s jaw.

Then it broke, quick as it started, but Cas and all his hasty energy didn’t move back. Neither did Dean. “I don’t know another way to say it,” Cas admitted to the small space between them. His voice finally wavered, broke. His hands uncurled, flat palms drying the tears Dean didn’t know he’d lost. “You have to tell me because I don’t know.”

Dean suddenly remembered to breathe and it came in sharp and unsure. It came in with the smell of Cas and a hit of his blue eyes close enough to taste. Dean swallowed the salt building in the back of his throat and dug his voice out of Cas’ rubble. “That was it,” he whispered back. “You just said it.”

And it seemed utterly ridiculous how everything suddenly felt so simple.

#destiel #destiel fic #first kiss #season 14 #canon divergent #episode coda #idk what this is #i have destiel anxiety okay #I need something canon tonight #14x12 #14x11 #its been a minute since I posted some fic #so take this i guess

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chaandknight · 6 years ago

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Maybe | Roger Taylor | Smut/Angst

Summary: Breakup sex is never a good idea. 4k words.

A/N: This got away from me. I’m sorry in advance. Thank you to my beta @haveanaverageday I love you. Relationships are hard I would know, but remember this is just a fic, and not the best model for a relationship.

Requests are open

Tags: Smut, angst, swearing, +18

Maybe you two just weren’t meant for each other. Maybe all the time you had spent building something together just wasn’t worth it. Maybe the universe just had more plans for you. Maybe the constant time apart had drawn a wedge between you. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Your relationship with Roger was always filled with maybes. Maybe he would come home early from a party. Maybe you’d have for date night. Maybe he would call while on tour. Maybe you would come and visit him on tour. Maybe you got lonely while he was away and made some dumb mistakes. Maybe he did too. Maybe you both were to blame. Maybe.

Despite all that you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your heart as you packed your things. You and Roger had been together for the longest of times, constantly on and then off again. You would always make up quickly, but this time was different. Both of you could feel it, it had been weeks since you had talked, seeing each other was an entirely different question. He had sent word through his personal assistant, and you in turn had replied. The messages were short, the calls only lasting for a second seconds. It all started with his message, relayed through his PA.

“He knows.” Is all he had said. You replied, saying that you knew about all the girls as well. There was no reply after that. After two weeks of contemplation, barely sleeping in your shared bed you decided. You left a message for him, asking him to organise your moving out. It was simple. Once you had found suitable accommodation you'd move. You'd take everything that was yours. He'd keep his flat. He even offered to help you move out, paying for removalists. Deciding to handle this like an adult, you accepted. You had surprised yourself by the way you had handled all this, how diplomatic you both were. Usually your ‘breakups’ were messy, arguing that would escalate into screaming matches. Sometimes turning extremely nasty when both of your prides were wounded, opting to yell out petty, personal things to one another. One of you would then storm out, the other following closely behind not willing to let whatever you had go. Sometimes you'd spend time apart, stewing in anger. Then would come the sex. A makeup fuck is what he called it after the first two times. Then it had just become habit, a vicious toxic cycle that would sometimes last days. You two had just fallen into your roles, accepting that this was how it would be. That was until now.

You would lying if you said there wasn't any good moments in-between. Those were the best, often taking off as a honeymoon stage all over again. You would whisper and giggle in each other's ears, unable to keep hands off each other. You'd fuck and you'd make slow love. He'd take you places, compliment you on everything and help with your various art projects. You would spend nights together, just in each other's presence doing your own work. That was until the next ‘break up’, where moments like this started becoming more sparse and arguments increasingly common. It was all too much. The both of you were relieved when the tour was announced, finally able to spend time apart without having to worry about discussing deeper things. Things that would be too painful, too complicated to talk about.

Maybe that’s why the sinking feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t go into a room without being triggered by the memories you both had made. You swallowed the lump in forming in your throat, shoving the rest of your paints in the box and taping it closed, compartmentalising your feelings at the same time. This was for the best. You were both toxic to each other, this was definitely not a healthy relationship even if there was something between you two. You looked around the lounge once again. It seemed empty without your paintings covering the walls, your various pot plants on the window sill. You wondered if he would miss notice your things gone. What did you care though? You cast a glance around the room trying to pick out anything you may of left behind.

That lump in your throat reformed, threatening to choke you with all the feelings that were now rising to the surface. For the first time it finally hit you. It was over. You hadn’t talked or seen him in weeks and you most likely wouldn’t see him again either. His tour ended two weeks from now and he rarely ever came home, too busy with parties and recording. You noticed your acrylic paint still out. He wouldn’t notice an extra painting would he?

You wiped your forehead with your arm, pretty sure you had smudged some yellow paint onto it. You didn’t really care. The painting had made you lose track of time. The front door opened just as you realised you should of been out two bloody hours ago. You grabbed a large paint brush as your weapon heading to the door. Had someone broken in? Whoever it was seemed to have the keys to the front door. You tried to control your breathing and not let your mind run wild. You couldn’t help it though. Was it some crazy stalker fan? Would you be found dead in your boyfriends exboyfriends home? Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you flicked on the light, ready to use your paintbrush.

“Were you going to paint me to death?” His voice was thick with exhaustion, you lowered your paintbrush, not sure if you wanted a murderer in here more rather than face the man standing in front of you. The man you hadn’t seen in weeks. You had almost forgotten how bright his eyes were, how his hair was always dischevlied, the smallest hints of stubble on his jawline. All the emotions you had laid down in the canvas laying in the dining room behind came bubbling to the surface.

You tried not to let your voice shake as you spoke.

“You’re meant to be on tour” you said simply, not wanting to drag this out for long. He let his smile drop, his shoulders slumped you could see just how tired he was. He set his keys on the bench. Running a hand through his hair.

“You’re meant to be gone” he snapped. You tried not to let his words hurt you, but despite all the walls you had mentally put him the words cut through you like a knife through butter. You wanted to cry, he was letting you go so easily, without a care in the world. You took a breath, determined to not let him see how close you were to breaking down.

You turned around, ignoring his presence all together and heading to where your paints were laid out. You wiped your hands on the rag, screwing on the lids to the paint pots. You’d pack them all into their box later. His footsteps echoed off the tiles, you ignored his presence behind you and headed straight for the shower in the main bedroom - his room. The plan was to shower before leaving, your clothes were already lay out. You closed the door behind you, but it wouldn't close properly. You stepped back as he stepped into the bathroom.

He had a look in his eye that made your breath catch in your throat. He walked towards you, unknowingly you stepped back, almost tripped over the shower glass panel. It was as if he had you pinned with his gaze alone. You were like a deer caught in headlights, unable to anything but retreat further back. You stepped into the shower, he was still following you until you were cornered against the wall of the shower. You never were scared of him, even if he was yelling from across the room at you, however now, combined with all your emotions about moving out, the thought of being murdered and his words from earlier - you couldn't help the small hint of dear that plagued your mind. He was in your personal space, body almost touching yours. He looked down on you, and you couldn't decipher his facial expression.

Your heart was beating against your chest, almost threatening to break free. Your breath only quickened when he reached over, hand near your waist. You could almost feel him grabbing your waist, pulling you to him. But he only turned the knob to the turn on the water, soaking both yours and his clothes under the large shower head. His breathing was almost as heavy as yours, and you weren't sure if it was from anger or not. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off with his lips.

The kiss was rough, filled with weeks of frustration. You kissed him back, trying to show your anger and hurt at all this. You were just now coming to terms with how you felt about all this, previously running on autopilot. He reached up cupping your cheeks, trying to pull you even closer as his took your lip between his teeth tugging harshly. You were the first to pull away, shock coming over you. You pushed his chest but he didn't budge.

“What the fuck was that?” You demanded, voice high. You resorting to pushing his chest over and over in an attempt to get him to move. You both knew you weren't actually trying, maybe it was just an act. Maybe. He grabbed your wrists, still looking down at you.

“Just” he started, getting distracted by your jaw. He pressed feather light kisses to your skin there. You were frozen on the spot, trying to piece together what the hell was going on. “Just shut the fuck up for once will you?” he said, nipping the skin at your neck making you gasp. Your hand found its way to his hair, running your finger through the wet strands as his kisses covered every inch of your neck, leaving the occasional mark here and there, every bite making the smallest of moans escape your lips. His hands were on your waist, pulling up your damp shirt the slightest bit. He pulled away from your neck, pulling your shirt over your head. He was rougher than he needed to be and it annoyed you. You retaliated, swinging a leg around his waist and dragging your nails down his chest.

“I don't hear from you for weeks and you expect me to come back to you?” You demanded, undoing the buttons in his shirt and pulling it off, throwing it somewhere in the bathroom. He kissed you again, stealing your breath before replying,

“Didn’t you get my messages?” He asked, trailing kisses down your neck, his hands working on undoing your jeans. You huffed, slapping his hands away, replacing them with your own. You didn’t accept his reply. As if sending half assed messages through his PA was going to cut it. As if it had a chance of keeping your relationship going. Did he seriously expect the “he misses you” messages to combat the whispers you heard from friends and the press about his antics?

“You're a fucking prick.” You hissed, pausing momentarily to look at him. You elbowed him, trying to get him to give you some space. He stepped back, just the slightest bit. You pulled off your jeans kicking them away, he had done the same. “You know that's not what I meant” you said, annoyed at your own lack of self control. You could never resist him.

“What did you mean darling?” He whispered, voice laced with hurt and something else you couldn’t quite pin down. “Did you get lonely without me? Is that what it was? Did you need me to reassure you every night?” he said, a dangerous tone in his voice. This was taking a turn into dangerous territory. You dragged your nails down his chest, watching him flinch the slightest bit. Good. You were hurting him.

“At least I don’t hire people to keep my fucking bed warm” you shot back, pushing his chest once again. He grabbed your wrists, this time squeezing them the slightest bit, a warning. You both seemed to communicate through your eyes. You looked up at him, daring him to come up with some reply to your words. He stood firm however, looking at you as if to tell you that you both were the worst.

“Can we just fucking stop? For once” he said finally, surprising you. He ran his hands down your arms, resting them on your waist. “I’m tired” as if that was an excuse. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You wanted to fight back, push him away and make him work for it. But it was as if seeing his exhaustion had triggered your own. You were tired from packing, the sheer effort of shoving down your emotions had drained you. You let out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, running your fingers down his chest in a vain attempt to soothe the red marks from earlier.

“Fine, but if you start again don’t blame me for responding to your bullshit” you said, looking up at him. Both your words had different meanings. It was as if you were promising not to bring up the past again, at least not tonight. It was a mutual understanding. He nodded, leaning forward and kissing down your neck.

“Stay here tonight” he whispered, voice cracking the slightest bit. Did he actually feel a hint of a sadness about you leaving? Perhaps you did. You didn't spend this long with someone and not develop some kinds of feelings for them. You ran your hands over his chest, lean muscle from constantly drumming almost every night.

“Why should I?” you challenged, deciding that he'd have to work for it. You weren't going to let him have you this easily. He gripped your waist, lifting you up, your back brushing up against the tiles. His intention was clear, and you scrambled to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself from falling. You were now just the slightest bit higher than him. He looked up at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly.

“Because I'm asking you to” he said simply as he pulled away, peppering kisses over your jaw. You had no reply for him, running your hands through his hair just letting him enjoy your body. So maybe you'd never see him again. You knew this probably was a bad decision, it would complicate things further. Your mind however, could not focus too busy focusing on the brush of his lips against the skin of your neck. Yes, you'd probably regret this later on but why shouldn't you live in the moment now? He seemed to take your silence as a no and immediately started to untangle himself from you, trying mask his disappointment. You wrapped your arms around his neck, cupping his cheeks and pulling his face so you could look into his eyes. You gently traced his jaw with your finger,

“I will” your voice barely a whisper. He wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, gripping your waist once more. You ran your hand through his hair, the both of you trying to pull the other closer despite being pressed together already. The kiss was desperate, weeks of pent of frustration, anger and hurt focused in on one kiss. He pulled away and you took the chance to take his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging the slightest bit. He let out a small groan, pulling you into yet another kiss. You didn't know just how long you both were there. Your back ached the slightest bit from being pressed against the tiles for so long and the water had ran cold for a while now. He would pull away every so often to trail kisses down your neck, his fingers straying between your legs, stroking against your core just so before pulling away. Your soft moans getting drowned out by the sound of the water. He'd whisper in your ear, meaningless remarks like missing you and wanting you so badly. You returned the favour, not even completely sure what you whispered to him. Your hips rocked against him, making him groan into your neck

You clung to him desperately, running your hands down his chest. Your lips hurting the slightest bit from him constantly nipping at them. You pulled away, breathing heavy. You wanted him to finger you properly, or at least for him to do something. The constant teasing was driving you mad. He could sense it too, pressing a kiss to the one of the many forming hickey's he'd left on your neck.

“You want me darling?” He asked, as breathless as you were. His lips were red, yours were probably the same. You nodded, trying to grind on him to get your point across. He run a hand over your jaw, tucking your hair behind your ear. You expected him to say something about the past, dig back into the scars that were seared deep into your messed up relationship. You weren’t sure if you could handle it, you wouldn’t be able to go through with this if he brought up the past now. He reached out, turning off the shower. Well that was definitely not what you were expecting. You ran a hand over his cheek, leaning forward and kissing his jawline, down to his neck. He carried you out of the shower, stepping over your discarded clothes. Perhaps if you weren’t so wrapped up in him you’d worry about falling, or him slipping and the both of you falling. However, you weren’t in your senses, too busy nipping at that one place that never failed to make him pause and shiver. You grinned into his neck, licking over the skin. You felt the bed beneath your back, he must of made it then. Before you could say anything his mouth was covering yours again, kissing you with the same desperation as before.

“The bed” you started between kisses, “It’ll get” you needed to take a breath, “wet” you finished. He snorted, trailing kisses down your neck

“Sweetheart, there’s only one thing getting wet that concerns me and it’s not the bed” he said with a grin, rolling his hips against yours eliciting yet another moan from you. You held onto him arms wrapped hooked around his shoulders. He kissed you again, almost pushing you down into the pillow. His hands were tracing along the sides of your body making your shiver. His hips slowly rolled against yours and you could feel his hardening length against you. He reached down, between your bodies and lined himself up. He pulled away from the kiss, watching your face as he pushed into you. You didn’t need much prep, thanks to all the teasing he had done in shower earlier, but god. It had been a while and you were already on edge from before. He knew how to angle everything, thanks to your history together. He had only rolled his hips against yours once and you were writhing underneath him, a mess already. You pushed against his chest,

“Wait, wait” you panted, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. You tried to control yourself, to try and maintain some semblance of control. He took his opportunity to lean down and kiss underneath your jaw. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to get your breathing under control. You rolled his hips after a beat, making you arch up, breathing out his name. He let out a breathless laugh, kissing you once again.

His pace was languid, as if the both you had all the time in the world. He kept it slow, pressing kisses over your jaw and neck, adding to the marks he had already made previously. Almost as if he was trying to commit to memory the way your body felt underneath his. You ran your hands down his back, doing the same. It was unspoken, this agreement that it would be the last time. The two of you wanted to make it last. You tried not to let your mind drift, instead focusing on guiding him back to your lips, grinding your hips against his just so, making him moan. It was a slow bump and grind sort of pace, making you cry out as he would just brush against the spot that made your toes curl. You clawed at his shoulders, getting impatient. You wanted him properly now.

He seemed to get the message clear enough, gripping your hips and doing a particularly hard thrust. You groaned, dragging your nails down his shoulders. He panted in your ear, holding onto you tight as he pushed into you over and over again. You matched his pace, pushing up your hips to meet his. The two of you too caught up in chasing your own high to care about the other. You dragged your nails down his back, making him hiss and in turn, dig his own nails into your hips. Your climax was quickly approaching, and by the way he faltered in his pace you could tell his was as well. He reached down between your bodies, drawing quick circles on your clit. You clung to him as you came, muffling your cries into his neck. Your entire body arching up into his, drawing him in closer in a desperate bid to ground yourself. He had you quite literally seeing stars. You didn’t care about much else as you came, holding onto him tightly just riding out your high as he used your body to come to his own climax. He came a quick two thrusts later, crying out your name and slamming into you one final time. You both laid there for a while, just trying to level out your breathing and holding each other.

He was the first to move, rolling off you and laying by your side. You both cleaned yourselves up in silence, not wanting to say something that would ruin the mood. This was for the best. He laid in bed, a cigarette in hand. You crawled onto the bed with him, fitting yourself into side. He put out the cigarette turning to you again. Both of you had extremely little self control, going for another two rounds before falling asleep, tangled in the sheets.

You woke just as the sun was rising, an orange glow setting over the bedroom. You turned around to find Roger asleep, a hand splayed out on your stomach. You let yourself have a moment just to gaze at him, take his face. He looked like a child when he was asleep, free from the emotions he wore when he was awake. It took everything in you to not reach out and trace his features. Instead, you untangled yourself from the sheets. Your body ached from last night, it was bittersweet. You dressed quietly, casting one last glance at his sleeping form on the bed and walking out.

Maybe you should of left a note, but it would be too much for you. Right now you had to go or else you never would. The emotions from last night coming back to you, causing a dull ache to bloom in your chest. You grabbed the paints from last night, packing them away carefully and picking up the last remaining box of your possessions. He had enough to remember you by.

The painting you did was resting against the table leg. It was him, as he was when he was asleep, how you saw him through your eyes.

How you had loved him.

Maybe he’d throw it away or maybe he’d hide it.

Maybe he’d burn it.

Maybe he’d hang it up, cover it when he was home alone because the memories were too much.

Maybe Freddie found it once, and asked him where he got from.

Maybe his voice cracked when he answered.

Maybe.

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