#feel free to put up your own arguments in tags

[dyingstarsatdusk]

I've been wondering this for a while but

(and yes, I'm not considering the actual normal characters such as xie lian's mom and dad or anyone else. That just wouldn't be fun)

[wndaswife]

meant to be yours | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Nearly eight years after your breakup with her, you meet Wanda again when she enrols her children at the preschool you work at, evoking a multitude of old feelings and regrets.

Word count: 14 245

Tags: angst, fluff, pining that is a lot more mutual than it seems to either of you, mentions of marital issues, sorority!wanda & milf!wanda (best of both worlds), doctor doom makes his grand entrance

For the last few years, all Wanda has known how to do is compromise. It was a method of survival, a way to make sure she made something of herself as she aged.

The life she had made for herself wasn’t what she’d envisioned; ever since high school, Wanda dreamed of being a journalist for a fashion line. She loved writing and fashion design although the last time she ever had any large projects with either of those passions was in college.

Somewhere along the way, Wanda became convinced that the only thing she could ever be good at was planting down exactly where she’d always been — not taking leaps of faith lest she tumble and have nothing to fall back on. 

That was why she settled for a life married to her college boyfriend, staying at home most of the time caring for her two four-year-olds, Tommy and Billy. They were raised to be good, sweet boys, and though Wanda had heaps of regrets, her sons were always her greatest joys.

Victor Doom was an aerospace engineer who focused on robotics and developing other technological advancements for the company at which he worked — the household’s breadwinner.

In college he was especially well-known for being one of if not the only campus frat boy with a working brain, who in his final year helped paton tech with his astrophysics professor, subsequently earning himself a position as an engineer at a renowned corporation where he’s since been employed.

All she’d been doing since college was compromise — where to relocate, when to have children, whether or not she pursued a career. Some days she was somehow comforted by the fact that she didn’t need to do any more than live in the providing shadow of her husband, for it meant that she never had to reach for anything above, and that meant she never had to risk failing.

But other days, when she was selfish, Wanda wished she had more. She wished she had more friends, she wished she had a better marriage and a fulfilling job. Then she’d make dinner for her husband and settle around the table with him and Tommy and Billy at the end of the day and realise that she couldn’t have what she sometimes felt she wanted.

How could she?

At thirty years old with no opportunity for anywhere but forward along the path she’d always been afraid to step off of, there was nothing more for her but this. 

In the morning an argument took place in the kitchen, hushed and whispered so as to keep it muffled from the twins who were sleeping upstairs. Victor and Wanda had been discussing putting the twins into the summer preschool program for some time, as the private school they were planning on enrolling them in the fall semester had an optional preschool program.

He was on board up until this morning when Wanda brought up the idea that she use the free time to get a part-time job at a local newspaper company that was looking for journalists. 

Upset at her suggestion, he called her selfish and accused her of intentionally suggesting bringing the twins to preschool so she could waste time on her own self-absorbed endeavours. She tried to tell him that she felt she had to do more with herself, and that she didn’t only want to be a stay-at-home mother, especially when she had the education to pursue a career like he did. 

Rationally he couldn’t understand her wanting to find a job when he provided everything and more for their family, but it was her comparison of their likeness that set Victor off and he became furious and had trouble keeping his voice down, forcing Wanda to quickly abandon the idea of applying to the part-time job to keep him placated.

He left in a frustrated state though he ended up getting what he wanted, and Wanda woke the boys up for their first day of preschool. 

The two young boys had moved to cuddle up beside each other through the night, with Tommy having switched beds to sleep next to his brother.

Wanda woke the both of them, running her hands over their tiny heads and soft hair, and she watched as their little noses scrunched up and their short little arms unwrapped from each other's warm pyjama-clad bodies.

As she watched them arise, she thought to herself how lovely it would be to care for her sweet sons like this for a very long time, and she realised how not-so-terrible living a life without pursuing her other dreams would be. 

“G’Morning, mama,” Billy mumbled and his mother leaned down to kiss his scrunched up little nose. 

Oh, it wouldn’t be terrible at all. 

In the car after breakfast, Wanda explained to the twins what preschool was and how much fun it would be to meet new friends and play games a few days a week. The boys were thrilled and their mother was relieved, for Wanda didn’t wish to abandon the plan she and her husband had made by letting Tommy and Billy skip their first day, and she knew that if she let them stay home because of their whining, they’d whine all day until their father returned home in the evening.

But fortunately for her, the twins were ecstatic.

She didn’t know until her arrival that the first day was also when the parents were allowed a sit-in to allow the children to acclimate while also giving them a first-hand perspective of their child’s first day.

From the preschool calendar, she knew the potluck was on Friday but not that the first day was practically an orientation. If she knew, she would’ve insisted for Victor to take at least the morning off to join her in it.

The forty-minute long sit-in orientation where Wanda sat on a short plastic chair along the edge of the learning carpet along with all the other parents allowed for them to see for themselves that their children would get the most out of their preschool experiences, and that they could be relied on to care for their children.

As she gathered her things that were asked to be placed atop the class desks along with all the other parents’ belongings in the back, Wanda watched as the parents around her seemed to make fast friends. She wondered if they had all somehow known each other before the first day.

In any case, she felt lonely without her husband, especially as she watched her sons socialise joyfully with the other children of the class, watching the precious sight of their children take place without her husband with her.

She carefully slipped away along the walls from the groups of quietly chatting parents as they also gathered their things until a familiar voice made Wanda’s perk up as if she was suddenly summoned by dog whistle.

Darting her eyes around the busy room, Wanda walked forward slowly as her eyes raked through the classroom behind the heap of parents between her and the voice that seemed to come from the back of the classroom, to the right, and…

Wanda’s chest tightened painfully and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of you. It was you with your hair but longer now, your height the same as it had been, your voice that was a few slight tweaks worth’s difference from the one that had been echoing in Wanda’s mind, albeit fainter these days, ever since the last she heard it in person.

Her hand reached back and she pressed the pad of her finger into a sharp edge of the cubbies behind her, sending a sharp pain up the nerves of her finger and forcing sound through its muffled barrier and finally freeing her locked joints. 

She tore her eyes away from you and stopped just before the doorframe of the classroom.

Carefully, when she had confidence in her breathing, Wanda raised her head and took another look at you. 

All the different ways she’d start a conversation with you ran through her mind and she soon began thinking of all the things she’d like to say, all the things she’d like to ask you and all the things she wanted to know about how you were living your life now.

But her fingers tightened around the doorknob and she looked over to it, seeing the gold of her wedding ring reflect the classroom lights. Then she suddenly felt unbecoming and terrible about herself, so she looked back and saw her boys enjoying themselves under the watch of the preschool teachers before she quietly slid out of the class.

When Victor came home early and agreed to go pick up the boys to make up for his absence at the sit-in, Wanda quickly looked through her closet and searched for the letters she received from you the summer she was with you during which she had a three-week long trip to Saint Petersburg with her family.

As the tips of her fingers felt the base of a small rectangular box, Wanda began slowly running the pads of her fingers along the bottom until they caught onto the slim edge of an old sheet of paper. 

Slowly as to not rip it, Wanda slid the paper out along the open space between the edge of the box and the other stacked mementos she’d kept since college.

Since you. 

Before she opened the letter, she questioned why she’d even gotten the urge to look for it and what she was initially intending for when she began searching for it. She looked down and saw the familiar loops and lines of your handwriting and she abandoned the train of thought, slowly unfolding the sheet and raising it up so she could read it. 

For some reason she felt guilty for how long it’d been since she last read from it, and the part of her from her younger years scolded her for stopping the way she used to run her eyes over every inch of your penmanship since the last time she was with you. 

Anyways, Wanda read through the letter and felt an addictive pulse resounding within her chest, a lightness and a sort of prickly sharp wave that seized her throat and travelled down into her lungs. 

As she let the recollection of having ever been worthy enough for this kind of love, reading the way you described how much you missed her while she was gone and how much you loved her, Wanda felt an odd sense of despair knowing such a thing could only ever exist for her through memory. 

She couldn’t quite ask herself whether she was mourning the kind of love that was written on the paper or just who she received it from. 

Still as she tucked away the letter and ran the tips of her fingers over the other stashed-away mementos in the box, Wanda still couldn’t figure out why she wanted to look for them in the first place, why seeing you today made her want to open the box hidden along the top back corner of her closet. 

But she still sorted through it, seeing a flyer for one of your college plays in there and a music CD you put together for her, and more small trinkets all with meaning and all safely-kept through the years to keep the memory of you stored.

Downstairs, the front door opened and along came the excited footsteps of Tommy and Billy, and Wanda tucked everything back into the box and placed it back into the top shelf of her side of the walk-in closet. 

Friday came around, and this time Victor did take a day off to go with Wanda to the potluck; parents and children alike from both the elementary and preschool were being invited to have lunch together for a traditional welcoming event for the start of the summer. 

Since Tommy and Billy had already made a handful of friends and were by then already quite attached to the idea of playing with their friends outside the classroom, they were dressed in their very best for the sunny day.

Wanda made a conscious effort to look her best too, for she knew that today she was finally going to come up with the confidence to start a conversation with you. She tried to approach it from a professional point of view, to see it as practical if anything to make connections with the preschool’s instructors.

But she couldn’t deny the way she kept adjusting and readjusting her hair in the side mirror of the car as Victor drove them to lunch, and that wasn’t really required of her to be practical.

Tommy and Billy tugged at their father’s hands and pulled them towards the preschool, excited to show him what he’d been missing while he was at work.

There were a bit more people than Wanda anticipated though the expansive playing field of the preschool was certainly enough for the size of both the preschoolers and the kindergarteners from the private school. So she carefully slipped through the crowds and towards the potluck’s tables to set down the dish she made at home.

She saw you there too amongst a line of other parents along the edge of the table filling their plates. 

You were one of the teachers’ assistants from what Tommy and Billy had told her during their many excited retellings of their days when they got back home.

Wanda inhaled sharply and kept the casserole dish in her hands as she subtly waited for the line of parents to clear so she could inch her way closer to you. She spotted a clearing on the table that was close to you and carefully set it down.

She pressed the pads of her fingers into the scalding ceramic to give herself some confidence and she looked up from the table of food, finally laying her eyes on your face within a metre from you for the first time in nearly eight years.

To seem as if she’d approached you naturally, Wanda cleared her throat a little and turned her body to face you. She tucked her hair behind her ear and parted her lips. 

It all seemed like she was moving too slowly — mechanically — while the beating of her heart made her feel like she was moving too quickly — messily.

“Hi,” she said, stupidly. She got your attention at least and you lifted your head and looked at her. 

It was then that Wanda felt she’d bitten off far more than she could chew as she felt herself seized by the sight of you. 

Your hair was longer, like she’d seen on Monday. You looked older now, but the years had been very kind to you. She felt herself ache. You looked so beautiful, and she felt she would be trapped in this moment forever, unable to look away from you, feeling that if she had, you might suddenly disappear for another eight years.

The slight stutter in your greeting might’ve indicated to anyone else that you did recognise her and that her presence in front of you had stunned you momentarily, but Wanda, caught up and otherwise distracted by the sight of you, didn’t notice and so she introduced herself.

“I don’t know if you remember me from college, but–”

You nodded and interrupted her, “Wanda.”

Wanda hoped you didn’t notice how her eyes fell to your lips as you said her name, listening with her interest piqued the most beautiful medley of sound as it came from the way your lips wrapped around each syllable of her name.

It felt like an eternity had passed before your eyes garnered her attention again and she replied with a smile that looked relieved, perhaps because of the fact that you’d remembered her. “How have you been doing? It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been okay,” you answered simply, almost hesitant to share your present life with a figure of your past. 

You looked over to the other side of the sunny field where the twins were being carried on Victor’s shoulders. “They’re yours, right?” you asked, gesturing over to them. “Billy and Tommy.”

Wanda nodded proudly, looking over at her playing children before back over to you. “How did you know? Did they mention me?”

“Anyone who went to college with us still remembers the last name of the all-famous Victor Doom,” you said with a chuckle that might’ve seemed resentful to Wanda if she still wasn’t so taken by the sight of you.

“But, how are you?” you asked more seriously, straightening and looking at her. “You look great. What have you, uh, been doing? The last few years.”

She flushed when she watched you look down at her outfit and her hair and she fidgeted with her fingers, absently rubbing her thumb against tablecloth. “Not very much,” she answered. “I got married — to Victor, as you saw — then had Tommy and Billy.”

“That… sounds like a lot,” you said with a lighthearted laugh.

Wanda felt her heart beating against her ribs in a way that made her take in a breath to relieve the tension she felt in her chest as she listened to the way you laughed. She felt like a stupid flaky college sorority girl again.

“A lot, but not what I imagined for myself,” she confessed.

With an understanding nod, you then said, “You seem to be doing great for yourself, though.”

A cool wave of validation came over her and she beamed. “Thank you,” she responded. 

“A-And, you? Are you seeing any–”

Before Wanda could finish her question, one of the other instructors, one whose name Wanda did not know, called you over. You excused yourself and Wanda completely understood, allowing you to head over to where you were needed.

Although she had chances to approach you again throughout the afternoon, Wanda instead kept looking over at you from afar between conversations with her husband or other friends she miraculously made with other mothers. 

She didn’t want to press, and she was worried that the thrill of seeing you inflated her sense of reality, and she didn’t want to overstep or misread anything.

After all, the last you’d spoken wasn’t on very good terms and although the years may have done away with the wounds from what had happened, no amount of time could change a future friendship that might simply cease to exist because of the past.

So Wanda had to settle with having only a single brief conversation with the person whose letters she’d kept since college, and she left the potluck early with her husband so the boys could bring one of their friends home for a playdate.

To celebrate the start of the summer and the successful lunch, Wanda and Victor stopped at a farmer’s market that they passed in the car for ice cream with the twins and the friend they were bringing home.

As they waited in line, Wanda began to wander and eventually found herself in front of a handmade jewellery booth. She was initially looking in a solely appreciative way, not planning on buying anything but in awe of the shop owner’s talent until she laid her eyes on a pair of earrings.

She reached for them and brought them up into the light of the sun and out of her shadow so she could more clearly look at the tiny silver dolphins hanging from them. They were perhaps half an inch in size and really adorable and subtle.

The rest of her family caught up to her with ice cream in the young boys’ hands while Wanda had just purchased the dolphin earrings. She showed them to Tommy when he questioned what she’d bought.

“It’s so pretty,” Billy mused.

Wanda agreed, “It is really pretty.”

“Is it a gift, mama?” asked his twin.

“A little bit of one, maybe,” she answered with a contemplative hum then took his hand as the five of them headed back to the car together.

She’d wear it eventually.

Dolphins were your favourite animal.

That evening after the boys had gone to bed, Wanda straddled her husband’s hips in their bedroom, knees hugging either side of his lap as he guided her forward with his hands on her hips. He thrusted up into her while Wanda leaned forward with her hand flat beside his head to keep herself up. 

She was too much in her head to enjoy herself — not that Victor cared whether she was involved during sex, and she couldn’t stop thinking of the letter she reread earlier that week and the dolphin earrings she bought and how pretty you looked at the potluck.

With a final grunt and a particularly harsh thrust into her that made Wanda wince beyond the mess of her hair, Victor released into her and soon untensed. He lifted her from his hips and ran his hand down the side of her bare thigh, perhaps meant to be some act of affection, before turning onto his side with a satisfied exhale.

Wanda cleaned herself up in the washroom and once she finished washing her face before heading to bed, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt something curious and desolate, so she stepped forward to get a better look at herself.

She wasn’t under any form of illusion; she was well-aware of how she’d aged over the years, from occasional periodic observations like how her skin looked a tad different in certain places.

But under the burning scrutiny of the washroom lighting, all Wanda could see were smile lines and signs of ageing and reminders upon reminders about how differently she looked from the last time she was with you in college.

Ever since she saw you for the first time in eight years on Monday, you were her landmark in time for nearly everything. She made dozens of comparisons a day, seeing how much things had changed and when the last time she thought of something was — minuscule things that seemed significant when she wondered about how you saw things from your perspective. 

Tonight, she wondered how you might think of how she looked now. 

She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, but Wanda knew she’d been hoping for something because the very sight of how she looked in the mirror made her feel let-down, almost hopeless. 

And you looked so pretty at the potluck.

There were things about herself that she was glad had changed since college, but she wasn’t in any way thrilled about how much she seemed to have aged. 

Victor had brought it up a handful of times before, but it was only under the light of the washroom with the thought of you in mind that Wanda realised how right he was. 

Wanda wasn’t sure how exactly she was feeling by the time she shut the washroom light off and went to bed, but she knew that she was certainly glad to finally pull her attention away from the mirror and to think of only you when she closed her eyes instead of her reflection.

Over the next week or so, Wanda tried her best to be impartial with how she approached driving the boys to and from preschool while also ensuring that she only behaved as any other mother would around you. 

She allowed Victor to drop the twins off and pick them up without insisting she go along just to see you, and if she did catch sight of you, she’d try her best to wave only when it seemed necessary — when anyone else would’ve done it. 

The feelings that buried themselves deep within Wanda’s chest ever since she first saw you nearly three weeks ago had begun to overcome her in a way that she could only rely on convention to ensure she was behaving as she should. 

But after a while she began to miss interacting with you and after an amount of time she started to feel picky about how to approach you again. 

Fortunately, Tommy and Billy’s birthdays were approaching and they were adamant about having you there; it gave her an excuse to start a conversation with you. 

So while Wanda went to pick the boys up from school, she approached you while you were with the kids, waiting for them to get picked up by the rest of the parents as they played outside. 

“Hi, Y/N,” she greeted with a smile, elated at the feeling of saying your name out loud. 

She was standing on the outside of the picket fence while you were on the other side, turning to face her. 

“Oh, hey!” you said and smiled too in a way that made Wanda feel like she wasn’t being too awkward. “Let me get the twins for you.”

Before you could leave, Wanda quickly interjected, “Actually, I was wondering if I’d be able to ask you something.”

You seemed the slightest bit wary and that brought about a twinge of sadness within Wanda, but she pressed on anyway; she could understand why you’d be doubtful of her intentions, even after all the years that’s passed. 

“This is... a little embarrassing to ask,” she began hesitantly, “but the twins begged for me to invite you to their birthday party this Sunday, so I was wondering if you’d like to come. They talk about you a lot and I think they’d just like for their favourite person to attend.”

She probably talked too much. 

“Favourite person, huh?” you repeated with an amused smile. 

Wanda was reassured by your lighthearted response. “Their words,” she said. 

“And their mother and father?”

“Forgotten — completely.”

You both laughed, though Wanda a moment after you as she was initially taken by the sight of sheer joy on your face, caused all because of her. 

After taking a moment to seriously consider the offer, you said, “Sunday? I can’t do that day, sorry. Would I be able to drop off a gift instead on Saturday?”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Wanda reassured with a wave of her hand. “Actually, we’re having dinner with just the four of us on Saturday, so you’re welcome to join us then instead.”

You had a feeling that Wanda was sort of trying her best to have you attend something for the twins, but a part of you also felt she was trying hard just to have you there. 

Though you knew you were completely free on Saturday, you took a moment before answering to look a bit less rushed in responding to Wanda’s offer. 

“Saturday should work,” you confirmed with a nod. 

Wanda perked up and smiled, thrilled at succeeding in inviting you over for dinner. “Alright. That sounds good.”

She watched as you pulled your phone out from your pocket and she swallowed, forcing herself not to hope too much from what you were about to do, as you easily could’ve been checking the time. 

But then you asked, “Would you mind if I got your number? So you can text me the address and all.”

Wanda hoped her fingers weren’t trembling as much as she felt they were as she reached forward and took your phone with an attempt at a professional nod.

“Of course,” she managed to say, repressing the onset of an excited smile.

You caught sight of her flushed cheeks and the forming dimples as she held back a smile, but you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.

Years ago you would’ve pinned it as a flattered blush, hints of a heart tenderly-touched and a sensitive soul. But the Wanda you eventually came to know… was disingenuous. 

Most things with her were. 

You tried not to be bitter and childish about what had happened years ago though you were almost certain that people like her didn’t change; you had to look away.

On Saturday evening, Wanda had finished getting dressed in something casual for a dinner at home but formal enough for having a guest over, and she was standing in front of her vanity surveying the dolphin earrings in the palm of her hand. 

She hadn’t worn them yet; she was saving them for a special occasion, for when she really wanted to make a gesture. 

But the silver of the dolphins were too reflective and the shape of the animal would’ve been clear from even two metres away, and that wasn’t subtle enough for the steadily-budding rekindling between her and you. 

So she opened her jewellery box and tucked the earrings away safely for a different time — a time she hoped would eventually come.

And most importantly, Wanda didn’t want to drive you away. 

Wanda was in the kitchen putting together some drinks when you knocked at the front door, gift in-arm. She looked over at the door, feeling a fury of anxious butterflies burst in her stomach as the reality set in that she was going to have dinner with you. 

Victor announced that he’d get the door and descended from upstairs where he’d been helping the boys get dressed for their very special guest. 

From the kitchen, Wanda could hear you greet her husband at the door and she began to steady her breathing. She focused instead on carefully placing mint into the cocktail glasses. 

“Is she… here?” she asked Victor over her shoulder in the most inconspicuous way she could when he stepped into the kitchen to check on the food.

“She’s waiting in the den,” he answered. “I told her you’d come around with drinks.”

Wanda told him it’d only be a few minutes until the rice and stir-fry would be ready, so he went back up to help finish getting the twins dressed before dinner was served.

On top of the fireplace in the den was a framed picture of Wanda’s college sorority, and leaning close to take a better look at it felt like peering into a sort of time machine. It felt like a completely different life, yet you could almost just recall things like when exactly the photo was taken as if it’d happened only months ago. 

The photo was of the entire sorority coming together to take a picture before campus closed for a week for the holidays. It was during a sorority event at the city’s ice rink, and you recalled being dragged over to it by Wanda, who was your girlfriend at the time. 

You were posed together near the corner of the group of other girls, Wanda’s arms squeezed around your shoulders while she stood on a pair of ice skates. 

“I made this for you,” a voice approached from behind, and you turned to see Wanda walking into the den with a drink in both hands. “A mojito. But for yours, without any alcohol because I know you’ll be driving home.”

She was wearing a red turtleneck and slacks. She had an expensive-looking watch on and pearl earrings, and for the first time you considered how rich she must be now that she was married to Victor Doom. 

Wanda saw the drink in the cocktail glass tremble slightly before you finally took it from her with a ‘thank you’ and she rubbed her palm down her hip nervously. 

The warmth from the fireplace made her cheeks feel so warm, and the shade of the fire made your skin look so pretty and soft with the way the gentle orange flickered against your face.

“So you have this picture here,” you noted and took a sip of the mojito as you gestured to the framed picture. “Framed and up on the mantle.”

Wanda tapped her fingernail against the side of the glass as she looked at the photo over your shoulder.

Damn. 

She forgot to take it down before you came, and now she looked obsessive and childish and overbearing. She would understand if you saw it that way, for there was really only one reason she’d ever have that photo up in her house, and she looked at it every single time she passed it since she moved in. 

“Y-Yes,” Wanda stuttered and straightened, feeling the condensation from the glass trickle down her fingers. She smiled a little, because she was a bit proud of the picture.

She couldn’t read your expression, not when your back was turned, until you looked back at her and said in a lighthearted tone, “You must’ve not changed very much since college, huh?”

It wasn’t accusing or rude, and Wanda felt that it would’ve hurt less if you had said it as an insult; you said it as if you’d never expected her to be different.

Even if it were true that Wanda hadn’t changed since college, the realisation wouldn’t have even disappointed you.

You would’ve expected it, and that made something behind Wanda’s ribcage ache. 

Her lips parted to say something, perhaps to protest, but she couldn’t figure out what she wanted to say before the shrill cheers of Tommy and Billy ran into the room at the sight of you.

Wanda stepped back and allowed them to tackle you excitedly before you set the mojito on the coffee table so you could lean down and hug them, wishing them both an early happy birthday. 

She listened, partially-absent, as you told the boys you’d give them their gifts after dinner. She watched you mostly, and how little you’d changed in the way you laughed and teased. 

Did it always feel like this, eight years ago?

Had she been so cruel with you that you truly couldn’t believe she was one to change after so long?

Was this the first time, out of all the inevitable others, that she realised the hurt she made you feel?

Victor called from the kitchen announcing that the dinner was ready and Wanda blinked out of her stupor to kiss the foreheads of her children and let you walk ahead first as the twins led you forward. 

You looked so pretty wearing a knit pullover that made everything about you look so soft and smelling of sweet sparkling champagne.

The mojito made her a little tipsy and she felt her face’s warmth as she kept looking up from her plate and over at you across the table where you were discussing all sorts of things with Tommy and Billy, who were still practically buzzing with joy at having you over for dinner. 

She watched your lips as they moved, imagined you reciting the words from the letter you wrote her years ago — imagined you meaning them like you did back then too.

Since she reread the letter for the first time in a while just three weeks ago, she could recall every word of it again like she used to be able to when she was much younger.  

She felt ashamed of herself and looked away from you to spare her dignity, though it would not be the last time she did.

For most of the dinner, Wanda was silent; Victor was always more of the talker between the two of them, she liked getting to watch you without the fear of sounding obsessive, and she very much enjoyed listening to you interact with the twins without interrupting. 

It was only during the gift-opening after dinner that Wanda blurted out in the middle of a conversation. 

They were opening up a wrapped book to see a picture book guide of dolphins, and Wanda was only halfway into feeling shocked about the coincidence before Billy giggled and said, “You really like dolphins as much as mama said.”

“What?” Wanda all but coughed out. 

Billy excitedly flipped through the book and insisted, “Mama, you said.”

“I…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered over to your face, half-expecting you to be furious for some reason. “I-I said what, Billy?”

“That Y/N likes dolphins,” Tommy answered and looked up from the book, now confused by his mother’s confusion.

Wanda shook her head insistently. “I don’t think I…” She trailed off and brought the rim of her mojito up to her lips to shut herself up. 

Her avoidance of your eyes made her miss how you looked across the dinner table at her and her flushed cheeks. 

Victor made a joke about how forgetful his wife was and although it was a tad too degrading for dinner with their children, Wanda was thankful for it anyways for it cancelled out any impending awkward silences caused by her inability to behave properly around you. 

Just how much had she been thinking of you to the point of completely tuning out when she spoke about you in front of her children?

“We’ve been talking a lot about dolphins at school,” you said and wiggled your eyebrows at them. “We’re learning about our favourite animals.”

You reached into the bag and pulled out two adorable stuffed animals, a horse and a red cardinal — the twins’ favourites. 

As they cheered and stood from their seats to round the table and hug you tightly, Wanda felt a mix of emotion whirling within her, a sense of shame and humiliation, but also so much adoration for you.

To the boys’ dismay, their bedtime came quicker than it felt it had and Wanda had to put them to bed. They both whined although having been given an extra hour to stay up for their birthday dinner with Y/N, but like the sweet boys they were, eventually listened to their mother’s delicate discipline. 

Her greatest, greatest prides.

They were good boys. 

Wanda had the twins say goodnight to you and thank you for coming, then excused herself for a moment to put them to bed. She’d come back down to see you out, but until then you promised to help clean up after dinner with Victor.

“You know, I remember a lot about you from college,” Victor told you as he handed you a glass to dry. 

You placed the dry glass onto the rack beside the sink then replied, “I remember a lot about you too. Though, uh, we didn’t really talk, I think.”

“Yeah, but I talked a lot with Wanda,” he said. “And she’d blabber about you, like, every other day sometimes. So it feels like I know you well.”

Something about that made you bristle; you didn’t want to be known by Victor Doom. 

When you were finished with the dishes, Victor dried his hands and leaned against the sink, scrutinising you in an odd way. 

“You look good,” he then complimented. 

The flicker in his eyes suddenly became perceptible, and you quickly picked up on what he was trying to inch closer to. 

You eyed the front foyer then looked back over to him to continue seeing civil. “Thank you,” you answered simply. 

He was tall. 

Imposing. 

“Are you with anyone I’d know from college?” he asked, moving the dish cloth between his fingers.

“No.”

He scoffed in teasing disbelief. “I’m not under any illusion that…” He trailed off with a chuckle, leaving the rest of his words to imagination. “Especially when time’s done you so well.”

You felt like tearing your hair out and you felt a dozen weights being lifted from your shoulders when you heard Wanda begin to descend the staircase. 

“Give me your number,” Victor then asked in a hushed, hurried tone. “We’ll set something up.”

Wanda reaching the bottom of the staircase allowed you to quickly slip out of the constricting corner of the kitchen and you grabbed your things from the sofa in the den before following you out to the front porch. 

Victor Doom was still a huge dick, and you were beginning to have a terrible perspective on the couple. They didn’t change at all, and you weren’t sure what you came to the dinner anticipating, but knowing that Victor was still the kind of man Wanda was comfortable being married to planted an indescribable bitterness in you. 

“Thank you for coming,” Wanda said quietly as the warm silence of the summer evening soon enveloped the two of you alone on the porch when she closed the front door. 

“The boys really, really enjoyed having you over. I’m sure they’ll be talking about it for weeks,” she added with a laugh. 

You nodded and turned to look at her. “Yeah. It’s no problem, I really enjoyed celebrating with them. They’re lovely,” you answered.

Being in front of you now, Wanda wanted to say a lot and wanted to ask you about everything you’d been up to over the last eight years. 

There was no one to interrupt now, and it would be alright and objectively appropriate to start some small talk about your life while also being able to hide her buzzing curiosity behind convention. 

But all she could find herself telling you was one thing — all that she could get past her lips. 

“I really… I really have changed since college, Y/N,” she uttered quietly, pressing her nail into the pad of her thumb in front of her stomach.

It was important to her that you knew that for some reason. 

You regarded her for a moment then nodded, and Wanda seemed relieved at what seemed to her as trust established. 

The moment you stepped onto the porch, you told yourself how irritated you were at both Wanda and Victor, how unimpressed and upset you’d felt because of how little she’d changed since college. 

Yet all you could think about on the way home was her.

It felt that something was gnawing at you from the inside, pricking at your skin each time it fought its way closer to realisation, but still you couldn’t figure out why you felt the way you did with Wanda.

For years the feeling had been asleep within you, unwoken and put to bed the day of college graduation when you caught sight of Wanda trying to approach you before you left the graduation ceremony. 

That was the last you ever saw of her before earlier this month. 

It was painful to recall the time you used to spend with her, but freeing, in a way. 

You remembered how idiotically in love you were with her at the time, how naive and new everything felt. It was torturous to recall how it all ended up, but… thinking about how she used to make you feel made you feel exhilarated and you wondered if what you were doing was some sort of sick form of masochism. 

All the music CDs burned for her to play when she was away from you, the letters to her written with a careful hand — all so childish that it was worthy of some form of envy. 

You questioned if you were envious of the childish-like view of the world that you had when you were in love with Wanda or if it was the love itself. 

Either way, it was an unreachable thing of the past. 

You grew up, and Wanda…. was Wanda. She always would be. 

Weeks before the actual breakup, things had begun to dwindle between you and your girlfriend. She took frequent rain checks on your plans together to be able to tend to the sorority as the end of the year was approaching and the group traditionally began recruiting for the next year before the summer. 

But at the same time, your theatre was finally putting on the show they’d spent all year putting together, months of hard work spent on funding and prop and costume design — everything from the casting to the lighting crew was created from scratch since the start of September. 

You understood, time and time again, that Wanda had her own priorities with her own friends and hobbies. She helped with some things where she could, and you loved when she did. 

Some late nights were spent designing costumes together because Wanda had always been interested in fashion, and oftentimes she helped with those designs while you worked on putting together props. 

She wasn’t a college student or a sorority girl when you spent those late evenings together — she was just Wanda. But sometimes you felt like even Wanda didn’t know who she was during those years, and that was hard to keep up with. 

In spite of missing your practices and flaking on days where she promised to read over your scripts or touch up on the costumes, Wanda vowed to make it for your play’s showing.

The only issue was that on the same day there was an initiation for the new recruits, and Wanda was required to attend as an upcoming alumni. 

It would end before your showing and although there’d be an afterparty to celebrate, she also promised that she’d go right to the theatre to watch once the initiation ended.

Anxiously, you stood by the edge of the stage behind the curtains with a clear view of the front doors as you waited for Wanda to arrive. She had a seat in the front row where you could see her from anywhere to the right of the stage behind the curtains so you could watch her reactions to her performers wearing her designs. 

Then a few anxious minutes turned into half an hour, and she still hadn’t come. 

By then you knew that the initiation was over because Wanda gave you a definite time it would be finished by, which was well before the start of the play.

You sent her a few texts, but by the second to last act, you knew she wasn’t coming and you stopped messaging.

Maybe it was unfair to place her attendance on the kind of pedestal you did, because it wasn’t any sort of objective truth how important it was that she came. 

It was a play you helped write while thinking of her, props you made sitting with her in the living room — just the two of you, hours upon hours painting and writing and designing all while trying to see the set through her eyes.

You imagined you knew her well enough to see from her shoes, anyways. 

A whole year’s effort for her. 

It wasn’t like you told her any of that; not even you knew how important Wanda had been to every single thing you did until you were broken up. 

When Wanda finally arrived, she burst through the theatre doors, heels in hand. She looked like she’d been running, as she was out of breath and a bit dazed as she looked around at the empty theatre.

And the soft flush of her cheeks and the mess of her hair.

She was drunk too.

You were packing up the last of the props into boxes on your own when Wanda stepped up to the stage and looked for someone. 

“Is… Did I miss it?” she asked, slowly catching her breath. 

“Guess,” was all you could manage to force out from the bitter feeling that squeezed the air out of your lungs.

She caught sight of the props you were putting away; some of them were things she could recall making with you. She remembered helping you hot glue some of them together and pick out the paint and cut up the little details. 

She felt terrible. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I lost track of time. Really, I did. I didn’t mean to miss your play. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you should’ve cared about it enough that coming to see something important to me wasn’t an extra effort to you.”

You closed the stage curtains and stepped down from the staircase leading out to the side where the door to the theatre was, and Wanda followed behind you. 

You placed the prop box down by the foot of the staircase. 

“I know you were busy, but I just thought you’d prioritise your own girlfriend over some stupid sorority,” you muttered. 

The anger was well-founded, yet the way you insulted Wanda’s interests wasn’t. But you were so upset and jealous and you felt so belittled.

Maybe she felt the same way too, because Wanda quickly countered, “You don’t have to make me feel bad about it. I just apologised. And besides, it’s not like you had anything that important going on here.”

Your face contorted and you turned to look at her. 

“What?” you asked.

Although seemingly hesitant for a moment, the drinks Wanda had earlier catapulted her emotions forward and in the moment, she’d say anything to get a reaction from you just to make herself feel better about what she did. 

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have something important happen to you, Y/N, because you always give me shit for pursuing the things I care about,” she argued. 

With a disbelieving scoff, you replied, “I ‘give you shit’ sometimes because I want you here with me. I wanted you here! And I’ve always understood when you had other things to do.”

“You would want that, because you have nothing going on without me anyways.”

Sensing criticism in her tone, you questioned, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you could never understand having real things matter to you, because all you have is this idiotic nerdy theatre shit and nothing else important, so you leech off of me to make yourself feel better for at least having someone who’s actually doing something with their lives close to you.”

Wanda didn’t know why she said that, and even in the moment she hated the taste of her words as she spat them out. But she said them, still. 

She loved how nerdy and creative and hardworking you were. She adored you so much — looked up to you. 

Hours she’d spent listening to you talk about how much you loved theatre and watching performances with you online. She loved the part of you that loved theatre and film and art; she thought it was endearing and adorable, and it made you the most creative and sensitive person she knew. 

The argument pressed on, both of you fueled by the insecurity of not being prioritised by the person you loved. Perhaps all either of you needed was to confess that you really did care about the other, for in your own ways, it felt to both of you that it had become lost somewhere along the line.

Wanda felt criticised and betrayed that you would look down on her, that you saw yourself as so different from her. The entire sorority paled in comparison to you, but the feeling that you thought you were truly that different from her, that someone else would be better for you instead, made Wanda say just about anything to get some sort of emotion out of you.

In a way you felt the same, constantly feeling that Wanda prioritised things more than she did you. You were patient and understanding with her and your love for her remained in the face of her distance, but where did that get you if she didn’t care about you anyway?

In the heat of the moment, someone accidentally nudged the prop box and made everything in it drop and clatter to the ground. 

The loud noise of broken props you and Wanda had spent countless nights working on together put an abrupt stop to the argument. 

There was a particular prop that tumbled out of the box and broke, a small chalice that took hours to design to make it as historically accurate as possible for the play, put together by an actual blacksmith that Wanda knew, and intricately decorated by the both of you afterwards over Indian takeout and the span of two movies. 

Wanda felt so terrible looking at it, and how its base was bent and its handle broken off. 

“I think I’m done,” you said suddenly and started getting your things from a small closet beside the exit. “I think we’re done.”

It took a few moments for Wanda to process your words, blinking in the face of watching you begin to pack up and leave her. Then she managed to utter, “What?”

“We should break up before the school year ends. Let’s stop pretending this is gonna work out, okay? Just focus on our own stuff while we can.”

Wanda scoffed out a nervous laugh and she approached you, stepping over the broken props. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not breaking up because of… of this. Y/N. Come on.”

“Why not?” you asked and zipped your jacket up. “Be honest with yourself and try to tell me that you see this working out any better than it already has been.”

If Wanda were more sober and less overwhelmed, she would’ve told you just that, because she loved you and she knew she could give you what you needed — what you deserved. 

She would gladly apologise for what she did and how she’d been treating you, and she’d be honest about how she’d been feeling too. 

And if you were thinking properly, not acting rashly, not too emotionally, you would’ve taken a step back and realised how much Wanda did love you.

Maybe you still would’ve wanted more of her — more of her attention, more of her affection — but you would’ve told her that too, and Wanda would’ve felt like the most important person in the world for being wanted so much by you. 

But none of that happened.

Instead, Wanda began pleading, “Please don’t leave me. Y/N… No one really likes me but you. You know that. No one knows me, really. You’re all I have.”

“You have your sorority,” you muttered and pulled your hat on.

Wanda started to cry then, almost immediately brought to tears by the suggestion that her sorority could mean anything to her like you do. 

Was she so terrible that she'd led you to believe that was even possible?

“I don’t care about them like that, and they don’t even really like me. They don’t like anyone,” Wanda insisted tearily. “But you like me. I know you do.”

She wrapped her fingers around your hand and tried to hold it. 

“Please don’t leave,” she begged. 

Recalling it now made you feel like the worst person in the world — truly. 

In spite of the situation and what happened, Wanda really had been trying. She was crying in front of you and begging you to see that your relationship was stronger than you thought it was, and that she cared about you more than you realised. 

And all you could do was be bitter and cold and look away from her, pull your hand away when she held it and turn your back to her weeping. 

What were you protecting back then?

Your ego? 

Back then you wondered if it was a worthy trade-off, and today while you drove back home from Wanda’s house, you wondered the same. 

In the morning you continued to think about Wanda, and for an inexplicable reason, even checked your phone for a message from her. 

It’d been a while since you did that. 

But you didn’t hear from Wanda until Monday when she picked the boys up from school, and by then you’d been thinking a lot about change and the breakup and if it was possible to be normal with each other again. 

“I wanted to… to apologise. For dinner on Saturday,” Wanda said to you the moment she stepped down from her car, walking up to you waiting by the front door of the school. She was bold about it, didn’t hesitate before apologising for something you weren’t sure needed apologising for. 

“What are you apologising for?” you asked curiously, looking between her and the children being picked up by their parents. 

You doubted that Wanda knew her husband tried to get your number, but you were almost sure that she at least knew about the infidelity. 

Had she really settled for someone like that?

Victor was who Wanda started going out with after you broke up, and it bewildered you that she was still with him. 

Didn’t she at least once think that she could do better?

She indeed knew about the infidelity — she’d known since college. But what was she meant to do about it? She’d begged him for normalcy and to upkeep appearances for Billy and Tommy, but she couldn’t beg for him to love her like a husband did his wife.

Nor could he.

Wanda spun her wedding ring around her finger anxiously. “I just felt that things might’ve been uncomfortable for you, and I would never want to make you feel that way. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

It felt like she was talking a lot faster than you could catch up with.

“I-I can get ahead of myself sometimes, and if I said anything to make you feel… uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

The sight reminded you all too well of that evening in the theatre — Wanda’s nervous fidgeting and her apologetic tone, and most of all, the pleading to keep you close. 

It was different now, of course, because it was in a different context. But it was the same, really. 

It was always Wanda begging you to stay with her. 

“It’s… alright. You’ve done nothing to make me uncomfortable,” you reassured, and Wanda smiled. 

Then you scratched at the back of your neck and looked away awkwardly before saying, “Listen, it’s kind of stupid, but I have, um…” 

You hesitated to say it because of the subject matter, but Wanda was patient and so understanding as she regarded you with such kind eyes as she waited for you to continue. 

For the first time you noticed how a part of Wanda had aged — changed, even. She looked older in the way she looked at you, the innocent levity ever present but now wrapped in the years that have passed and the maturity that came with it.

Wanda reached out a little and brushed the pad of her thumb across your knuckles softly, reminding you that it was okay to say to her what you wanted. 

She did change — but not all of her. 

Though you’d been so adamant about wanting her to be different from college, you found that you really enjoyed knowing some parts of her were exactly the same.

The parts you loved. 

And the parts of her that were different you wanted to get to know too. 

You’ve seen how hard she was trying with you, and you were finally determined to do the same for her. 

“I have some play going on this weekend. I helped put it together with a few theatre friends from college,” you said finally. “So, if you wanna come, I can get some tickets for you and Victor.” 

Wanda’s interest was immediately piqued and she straightened, her eyebrows raising as her lips parted to accept the offer.

But you added hurriedly, “But you really don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know it’s not really your thing.”

“N-No! I’d really love to go,” Wanda insisted with a reassuring nod. “Would it be alright if I just went on my own?”

Imagining Wanda going alone to one of your plays made the offer a lot more intimate than you initially planned it to be, and the ease at which she suggested it made your breath catch in your throat. 

Wanda took it as she was being too forward and she immediately began explaining, “It’s just that Victor gets impatient with those sorts of things and I wouldn’t want to have you waste a ticket.”

“Yeah, I get it. Totally,” you replied and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sure. Just you. I’ll text you an entry ticket and they’ll just scan the barcode on it before you go in.”

“Okay,” she said with a reaffirming nod and a wide smile. “So, this weekend? When, Saturday?”

You corrected, “Sunday. At eight.”

“I’ll save the date,” Wanda said, practically beaming. She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d gotten. 

Maybe she hadn’t been as unfortunate with her attempts as she felt she’d been.

Was it apologising for dinner that got her an invite to your play? Or did the twins win all your affection for her?

Or maybe you just blurted out the invitation without really thinking it through, and you regretted it the moment it came out of your mouth.

If that was the truth, Wanda would try her hardest to make sure you’d end up enjoying having invited her. She’d be what you deserved eight years ago, and she’d show you that she still could be what you deserved now.

After that, she wasn’t sure what would happen; expecting anything more than your forgiveness would be selfish. 

Almost every day until Sunday came, Wanda sorted through her closet and her jewellery box to put together an outfit for you. She’d be wearing it and it was ultimately up to her whether she wore it, but it was for you. 

As she picked out a cream knit sweater and a floor-length black skirt, she thought about how you’d like her outfit and also wondered what you might think of the perfume she chose too. 

When it was the evening of the play, Wanda put her hair back into a French twist — this she did with the intention of not seeming too much like how she looked in college, as never she wore her hair up in something so formal back then. 

Wanda laid the dolphin earrings in her palm and surveyed it as she wondered whether it would be okay to wear it tonight. She worried about making too big of a gesture where it wasn’t appropriate, but there was a chance you wouldn’t notice she was wearing them at all.

After several moments of deep consideration, she took off her pearl earrings and put on the ones with the small silver dolphins hanging from them. 

You swore you hadn’t been this nervous leading up to the play’s first performance until tonight. You’d worked on plenty since college and it wasn’t like this was anything like your first project since graduation. 

Why were you so nervous?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you took it out to silence your notifications until you read the text message.

It was Wanda, and she messaged: I got a spot in the front row! I’m excited!

When you stepped out from backstage and stood beside the edge of the curtains to be able to get a little glimpse into the crowd, you looked for her, eyes sorting through the front row of the audience. 

In the midst of the soft buzzing from the crowd’s chatter and an audience of nearly three-hundred people, you saw Wanda sitting in the front where she said she was. She wasn’t with Victor or the twins; she came alone like she said she would, even though you ended up sending her three extra tickets in case she changed her mind. 

The very sight of her made you ache, a thrumming longing beating at your sternum as you watched her look around at the theatre and adjust her skirt.

Quickly, before the performance started, you messaged back, I see you. You look great.

You wished so badly to have been able to see her face when she read the text, but you were pulled over to help with the lighting last minute. 

When the curtains finally opened, you checked your phone one more time and saw Wanda’s message: Thank you. :) 

The theatre lights dimmed and lights from the stage turned on and your position at the far-left of the curtains allowed you to see her much clearer — like you’d wanted to do years ago.

You paid little attention to what was going on during the performance, though you miraculously kept enough focus to be able to do things like help keep the performers on time with their costume changes. But mostly you were watching Wanda.

In a theatre full of hundreds of people, she was your only audience. 

During pauses in the script where the theatre was full of only silence, you could hear the pulsing of your heart and for a moment forgot it’d ever done anything but beat only while you watched how pretty Wanda looked in the pale light of the theatre’s stage.

When the play came to a finish and the curtains closed, the crew and performers gave their thanks to the audience before the theatre lights were turned back on and some of the crew and performers lined up by the door to thank people as they filed out of the theatre.

The line shorted gradually and the crowd of people made it so that you couldn’t spot Wanda, and though you’d completely understand if she already left — after all, she didn’t need to stay to do anything else — a part of you hoped she stuck around a little.

But not for any particular reason, for you didn’t even know what you’d say to her if she did; you just wanted to see her wait for you. 

“Hi,” a soft voice greeted, and you turned your head away from the theatre doors to the woman in front of you. 

Wanda.

The sight of her made you rather nervous, and you realised you’d been worrying a lot about whether she’d enjoy the play. 

Your only audience. 

It was her opinion you cared about the most.

With a smile that made her own widen at the sight, you replied, “Hi.”

“I really liked it,” she told you. “The performers were incredible.”

“I’m… I’m really happy you liked it,” you said, internally feeling pretty relieved. “Yeah, they’re super talented. We had to move around a few dates, actually, so they’d be able to perform for us.”

“And the script…” Wanda said, something brief and unsaid exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. But the question that was implied wasn’t answered when she added, “The script was wonderful too.”

Someone approached from behind and waited around Wanda to be able to talk with you, so she uttered, “I should leave. Thank you for inviting me. I really loved being able to watch.”

You nodded once and smiled cordially at her, but the sight of her turning and heading for the theatre doors reminded you all too well of something similar from years ago and you reached out suddenly and took her hand. She stopped and looked down at your hand wrapped around hers. 

Her fingers twitched before she looked up at you. 

“Stay,” you said and took a breath. “Until I’m done here.”

An unusual feeling began to grow within her as she ran her eyes over your face, seeing the hesitancy that seemed to make the corner of your mouth twitch as you anticipated her response and the look in your eyes that meant something she couldn’t interpret.

Her throat tightened and Wanda had to swallow to ease the tension there so she could reply to you.

“Okay,” she replied, hoping you didn’t hear the way her breath caught in her throat when your fingers tightened around her hand. “I’ll wait in the hall.”

Was she stuttering when she answered? She couldn’t tell.

She focused only on keeping her legs steady as she moved one foot in front of the other, her thumb rubbing at the heel of her hand as the feeling of your fingers running down her palm when you let go of her hand lingered even when the doors closed behind her.

Minutes felt like seconds in that hallway where Wanda waited for you. It felt like time simply ceased to exist there when her mind ran rampant with what it might’ve meant that you invited her to see your play and asked her to wait for you.

She wondered if things would’ve gone just like this if she had come to your play like she promised eight years ago.

The theatre lights turned off and you stepped into the hallway once the doors opened, exchanging a smile with Wanda who straightened from the adjacent wall and stepped towards you.

“Thanks for waiting,” you said gratefully. “Sorry for taking so long. There was a problem with the lighting again.”

“It’s totally okay. I didn’t wait long at all,” Wanda reassured. Then she said, “You’ve always been such a talented scriptwriter. I’m glad I got a front row seat to your play.”

Her words made you flush and the way she looked at you with such innocent and sincere optimism in her eyes that presently glistened with the dim light of the hallway made you stutter until you were finally able to thank her.

You cleared your throat and said, “You really do look great tonight, by the way. I mean, a lot better now because I can see you more clearly. Compared to before, like, behind a curtain.”

That made Wanda laugh and she nodded. “I get it. Thank you,” she replied. She was glad that you liked how she looked. She wore it all for you, after all.

Really, neither of you knew what you were expecting when you made time for each other alone. You didn’t know what you had wanted when you asked Wanda to stay, and she didn’t know what she’d been hoping to get out trying her hardest to be friendly with you again.

“Did you drive yourself here?” asked Wanda.

“No, I got a ride from one of my friends. He had to drop something off at his place, so he’ll come back to get me. His car couldn’t fit me in there with the set stuff.”

Immediately, Wanda offered, “I can drive you home. You don’t have to wait for your friend.”

“Really? You don’t have to. I don’t wanna bother you.”

“It’s not a bother at all. Tommy and Billy are out of town visiting Victor’s parents, so I don’t have to be home early to make them dinner or anything.”

Things seemed to be going well — really well. But you still weren’t sure what you wanted from all this. 

Maybe there wasn’t anything to want.

Maybe you and Wanda would just end up being casual friends who went out for lunch sometimes when she was free or went with her to her pilates classes when she could bring a friend. 

That was kind of amusing; you couldn’t ever imagine someone like her being a casual anything in your life.

Knowing Wanda would never be something casual.

“Would you mind if we stopped at my place before I drop you off? I have something I’d like to give you,” Wanda told you as she buckled her seatbelt then started the car.

With a piqued interest, you asked, “What kinda thing?”

“A surprise,” she teased and grinned at you. 

That made you feel all warm. It reminded you a lot of how you remembered her when you used to go out. She was such a tease back then.

Seeing her behave in some ways like how you remembered her but now dressed in expensive jewellery and clothes with shorter hair and a more mature face made her teasing even more endearing.

She talked a little about the twins and how their birthday party went, all the while you were watching how the streetlights casted on her face. Her face had become less round over the years and the pale lights from the street she drove down made the angle of her cheekbones cast a particularly sharp shadow along her face, making her face look sculpted, but by hand, like a Grecian statue.

Her nose was the same.

Her eyes crinkled at the sides when she smiled over at you after perhaps noticing you watching her. That was different from when you were together — the way she smiled — and you liked that a lot. So you didn’t care that she caught you. 

If you had looked away, you wouldn’t have seen how she looked when she smiled at you.

“Come in and wait in the den,” she told you when you arrived before leading you into the house. She set her purse down beside your things on the couch then started the fireplace. “I’ll just be a second. I have to get it for you upstairs.”

Somehow the room looked different now knowing it was only Wanda at home.

You looked at the picture you had been staring at the last time you were here, and even that looked different too. You’d noticed how Wanda was hugging you when you last saw the picture, but now you couldn’t stop looking away from her.

And how happy she looked with you.

Wanda came down from upstairs and you could see her holding something for the fireplace reflected off of what looked like metal.

When she stepped into the den, you could see she was holding some kind of prop.

It was the chalice the two of you worked on years ago that broke.

“Oh my god. You still have this?” you mused and carefully took it with both hands when she handed it to you.

Wanda’s cheeks flushed and she played with her wedding ring. “It’s all fixed up now,” she said. “I was really careful with it. You should take it.”

“No,” you immediately contested. “It isn’t right for me to take it from you after you’ve taken such good care of it.”

“It’s still yours. It was for your play. Please take it.”

You looked down at it, turning it carefully in your hands and reading in all the details of the prop the late nights you spent with Wanda making it as if the very metal and its details had words written on them. You wondered what she must’ve thought every time she saw it over the last eight years. 

It belonged to the both of you if anything.

When you set the chalice down by your things, Wanda quietly asked, “Y/N… Was tonight the play you wrote for me in college?”

You blinked and were taken by surprise. You started writing a script for Wanda so you could have it finished by the middle of February, but you ended up breaking up before her birthday, and you never had the chance to give it to her.

Initially when you first met Wanda again last month, you thought it was by complete coincidence that you had also just found the drafted script from years ago and had just decided to finally make it into a show.

But maybe you truly had been thinking of her a lot more over the years than you originally thought you did.

“How did you know that?” you asked.

She confessed, “I read a few pages of it back then.”

“When I…”

“When you told me not to,” she confirmed. “But I was curious, and… Well, that was the play, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, and she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You wrote a play for me,” she said, teasing you. 

Without taking your eyes away from her for a second, you smiled and repeated, “I wrote a play for you.”

At first your sincerity made Wanda swoon and her teasing demeanour melted into a warm flattered mess before guilt overtook her at the sight of how you looked at her. 

You looked at her with so much admiration.

Wanda swallowed and quietly said, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You apologise a lot.”

“I know, but–” She cut herself off and seemed to be recollecting things internally before she began again. She struggled with maintaining eye contact but she tried anyway, and you wondered what was so important that she had to try this hard to communicate it. 

She said, “I should’ve gone to your play in college.”

You tried to interrupt her before she could apologise for something that happened so long ago, but she wouldn’t let you interject.

“It was important to you and I should’ve gone like I promised I would. I prioritised other stupid, meaningless things over you, and I’m sorry. I should’ve…”

She finally broke eye contact and looked down at the floor, pressing her fingers against her palm anxiously. 

You weren’t sure if you should try interrupting her again until the light from the fireplace reflected against the silver of her earrings. 

You reached out and laid the earring against the pad of your index finger so you could get a better look at it and Wanda looked up from the floor and ran her eyes over your face. 

“Dolphins,” you said.

It was then that Wanda realised the feeling that had been planted deep within her the second you took her hand in the theatre, then blossomed rapidly until this very moment. 

She was falling in love with you again. 

Her eyes moved over your shoulder to the photo of the two of you from years ago, framed and showcased right on the mantle where she could see it.

She recalled how her eyes always found their way over to the photo whenever she passed the fireplace, even when she hadn’t any idea if she’d ever see you again. 

The box stored in her closet of all the things that reminded her of you from when the two of you were dating years ago came to mind too. 

She wasn’t falling in love with you again — no. 

Wanda had always been in love with you. 

“I bought them to wear for you,” she confessed, stepping closer to you so your knuckle accidentally ghosted against her cheek. 

Your eyes left the earrings to meet hers. “They’re pretty,” you said. 

“If only I’d have kept my promise,” Wanda whispered, “things would’ve been different.”

You ached as you realised how much guilt must’ve been on her shoulders the last eight years, how quick and easy it was for her to blame herself for what happened. 

“Wanda, our breakup wasn’t your fault,” you told her. “I made mistakes too.”

She immediately shook her head and looked away from you.

“No, you didn’t.”

You insisted, “Yes.”

“It was my fault that��”

You had to cup Wanda’s cheek with your hand to make her look at you again and stop talking. She shut her mouth and looked at you, and that was when you sternly said, “It was my fault too.”

She began to tear up and you carefully swiped the tears from her eyes with your thumbs. 

“I don’t care how things would’ve been,” you said. “All I care about is what it is now — what we are now.”

Wanda took in a shaky breath and quietly asked, “What are we now…?”

Your eyes fell to her lips and Wanda was too distracted by how you looked and how good you smelled and how warm your hand was on your cheek to notice you were leaning in for a kiss until your lips were pressed against hers.

She’d forgotten how good those could feel.

But she never forgot how yours felt.

Her arms raised and she wrapped them around your neck so you couldn’t back up from her too far when you parted from the kiss. 

“I could… I could do right by you this time,” Wanda found herself promising the moment you pulled away enough so she could look into your eyes. 

What was she saying?

“I could treat you right this time around too,” you vowed.

What on earth were either of you saying?

“Is that okay?” you whispered. 

Wanda didn’t wait a moment before replying, “That’s okay. That’s… really, really okay.”

She leaned in and kissed you again, feeling you smiling against her own grinning lips.

──────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ────────

Until she filed for divorce from her husband, all Wanda Maximoff has known how to do is compromise, because until then, she never imagined a future wherein she could be any more than someone who lived in her husband’s shadows and never pursued the things she loved.

That night of your play changed so much for her.

It was painful to have to say goodnight to you and eventually have to drive you back home for her husband would eventually come back later that evening, but all Wanda could think about when she was in bed was how much things could change.

She thought about the kinds of futures she could have with you and the twins, the kinds of lives you could lead and the things she could do with herself.

But there was one thing she had to do before she could have any of that, and she wasn’t willing to wait and sit still anymore; when she turned to look at Victor sleeping beside her, Wanda knew she had to file for divorce. 

It wasn’t that the filing was so uncalled for at all, and it was easy to build a case against him.

The infidelity on Victor’s part and arguments that they sometimes failed to keep quiet from Tommy and Billy and dozens of other issues had built up to the point where Wanda’s lawyer confessed to her upfront that she was surprised she hadn’t filed for divorce much earlier.

They were trying to keep it as delicate as possible for the twins were still young, and in spite of their differences, neither their mother nor their father wanted to subject them to the complications that parents went through during a divorce.

Wanda rented her own apartment large and comfortable enough for both her and the twins, and you when you stayed over. 

You slept in Wanda’s bedroom, naturally. Though it still made you giddy recalling the mornings and nights you spent together in the same bed, in the same apartment.

Despite the relatively smooth move, Victor was still a very rich and power-hungry man, and he hadn’t been making the divorce process easy for Wanda. Oftentimes she was tired and drained, but also so impassioned.

It’d been a long time since she stood up for herself and what she wanted, and really, it was also first time she’d ever stood up to him.

“He wants to have them five days a week, each week,” Wanda told you presently, scoffing.

You leaned against the table and watched her as she worked. 

“What’s his lawyer saying?”

“I don’t care what that asshole is saying. I’m not compromising, Y/N,” she said sternly. “I’m not settling for two fucking days a week with my children.”

Rounding the table, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her against you. “That’s my girl. That’s good,” you praised and shook her around a little, making her stifle a laugh as she looked up and smiled at you. 

You kissed her temple and told her, “It’ll work out, Wands. Be strong.”

“Is everyone ready for the picture?” a voice called from the front of the stage.

It was the start of a new season at the theatre and it was tradition for your company to take a photo of all of the crew during the very early days of production development.

“Oh, hurry, hurry!” you hissed and took the pencil out of your girlfriend's hand.

Wanda tried to protest, “Y/N–”

“Finish the costume design later. Come on. Come on, come on, let’s go!”

You took her hand and pulled her to the stage where the rest of the crew was getting together for the photo, the camerawoman standing by the edge with her camera ready.

Your arm wrapped around Wanda’s hips and she wrapped both of hers around your shoulders, squeezing each other tight and smiling widely together as the photo of the entire production crew was taken.

You asked, “Wanna see it?”

“Very much,” she replied.

You rounded the camera together and Darcy approached Wanda.

“Wanda. Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi,” replied Wanda with a smile and she turned to face the young woman.

“When you write the article for the newsletter, could you mention that we’re looking for backup dancers?” she asked. “There’s, like, several big musical numbers in this one and we were pretty understaffed for the last show.”

You frowned and looked over at her. “Okay, not ‘pretty understaffed,’” you corrected. “Moderately understaffed.”

While ignoring your lighthearted offence because you’d been the primary one in charge of performer recruitment for the last play, Wanda answered with a reassuring smile, “I’ll add it.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a relieved exhale.

When you turned around to look at the camera for the photo, Darcy mouthed at Wanda before leaving for backstage again, ‘Very understaffed.’

“Wanda, this is gonna look really great on the mantle,” you told her, turning the camera around so she could see the picture. 

“Framed and right under the television in the living room,” she affirmed.

Wanda still had the picture of the two of you with her sorority, though now it was stored away in the box with all her other keepsakes from you.

It was always a symbol of the past, a reminder to her of a love she couldn’t ever get back. But now that things were different, Wanda didn’t need to think about anything but her future wherein you and the twins were always in it, no matter how many different lives she imagined for herself.

So there was a new framed picture put up where everyone in her apartment living room could see it — a photo of the theatre crew and you and Wanda right in the middle in the front row, smiling widely in each other’s arms with her cheek pressed against yours.

[noira-l]

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭-𝐮𝐩

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: your first major argument that really shakes the foundations of everything, including your arrangement and its soul.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

warnings: is that angst?, hurt/comfort?, swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, mature themes, satoru is trying to say something, utahime is the best, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, I had a rough day. Also, question. Should I open a tag list? Someone ask about this (I remeber you, love ~) So what do you think about the chapter and the idea? Let me know :3

"Listen to me, I've had enough. Screw it." You threw a kitchen cloth over the countertop.

"I'm here to help YOU. Not to do everything for you! You've dumped everything on me and you don't give a shit about anything," you shout, feeling like throwing it all away. He frowned. "You think I'm going to look after the kids by myself and you're going to have free evenings to go off on your own no matter where? Oh no no no. I'm not your fucking housekeeper for you to treat me like that." You pointed your finger at him, your tone rising even more. You felt like starting to laugh at the anger. "Fuck you. I'm not going to put up with this kind of treatment for a second longer." Your step left the sound of a loud thud. He started to follow you.

"You agreed to this yourself, you knew it would be difficult!" you felt like punching him. You picked up your backpack from the wardrobe. You were silent.

"I need time to myself, these missions are exhausting! Still! Taking over the clan, doesn't make it any easier for me at all, you know!" you didn't listen to him at this point, you were on the verge of exploding and you didn't want to do it.

"Don't act like a brat and listen to me!!!" he grabbed you firmly by the arm, you pushed him forcibly away from you, putting your shirts in your backpack. You packed the first necessary things that came your way. Your face was boiling with anger, you felt like shouting everything in his face, but you knew it wouldn't change anything. You clenched your teeth tightly and bit your tongue repeating to yourself - pack, don't think, leave. You passed him on your way out of the room. You were already at the door, started putting on your jacket, when he added:

"FINE! Go away, I never needed you anyway, you stupid idiot!"

The sound of the door slamming was everywhere.

★ --

calling…calling…calling…

"Hello?"

"Hi Utahime…" your voice gave away too much at that moment, as always "Could I stay with you for a while? I can't go back to the flat or to the facility" you grabbed your head, trying to contain your emotions. You were met with silence on the other side "Sorry to impose…. I won't… sorry… I'll go now- I…"

"N-no! It's all right! I'm just worried, what's wrong?" you could hear her worrying about you, you were on the verge of crying, all the anger was slowly draining out of you.

"U-Utahime…" your voice was shaking.

"Never mind, wait for me, please, I'll pick you up myself, I'll be there soon. Wait for me where you usually do, can you do it?"

"Mhm." tears began to run down your cheeks.

A long sigh "What did that idiot do to you this time?"

★ --

You spent the evening glued to a box of ice cream and a comfortable couch in Utahime's flat. You sat in her borrowed clothes, covered in a blanket, gesturing heavily as you expressed your emotions.

It started with an angry session in which you spouted off about what a horrible asshole Gojo is. You recounted in detail, how he forgot to pick up the kids from school, leaving them out in the cold often. How he was constantly late, whether to go shopping with you or to a parents' meeting at school. How he avoided household chores, which you later had to do after missions, and at worst his duties were filled by Tsumiki and Megumi. It wasn't that they didn't have household duties or didn't know how to take care of the house - no. You didn't know any more mature or understanding children, it was just that Gojo lived there too and should contribute as much as you did. For the last months, everything was done by you: laundry, shopping, cleaning, doing homework with Tsumiki and helping Megumi with calligraphy.

On top of that, you had missions that were also exhausting you mentally, coming home battered, in wounds because you didn't want to wake Shoko up at 3am and preferred to wait until morning. And every morning it was you, who walked the children to school. It doesn't matter if you were beating a powerful curse last night or if you slept at all. They always had breakfast ready, clothes and your smile every morning. You knew they deserved it - you wanted to give it to them.

As you came home from school on the days like this, did your shopping, went to Shoko's and came back, you thought of nothing else, but to lie down and rest. It was then that you allowed yourself moments of weakness, where you could carelessly cry all over the house, with no embarrassment that the children, or worse Satoru, would hear you. Your life has been awful for the last while. There have been better moments, but there have been far more of the worse ones.

It was then, that the crying session began.

You couldn't stop the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. You didn't say anything anymore. You just cried, hugging your pillow tighter.

Utahime only saw you cry once, that time when Geto left. And that was the only time. This one was the second.

She handed you a pack of tissues, which you took advantage of by resisting new tears. After which you immediately went back to hugging the lovely cushion.

Why did you agree to all this in the first place?

Why did you allow yourself to do something like this?

Looking after children is not an easy thing to do, especially when you are alone.

.

.

Suguru would never treat you like this.

If you thought before that you were more or less in control of your crying, so after that thought, you definitely lost all the control you had. It was no longer a cry. It was hysterical. And you are not going to snap out of it any time soon.

★ --

"What are you doing?" the white-haired sat on the steps, drinking a can of sweet drink. They had just finished their training.

"I'm going to talk to her." said the raven-haired getting up from his seat, heading towards the dormitories.

"HUH? What for? She's the one who blew up at you, after all. She should be making an effort now." He crushed the can with cursed energy. His friend sighed.

"You don't understand, do you? It is not that clear, besides I care about her. I understand her view of the situation and even though it's wrong, I'm willing to talk to her about it." Suguru put his hands in his pockets slowly moving away.

"Stupid, why bother." Satoru rolled his eyes looking at the training field.

"Because she is important to me, her opinion, thoughts and feelings are important." he turned towards him, he continued. "A joint solution to the problem is important. In moments like this, it's crucial to push away your tantrums and reach out to someone." Suguru looked ahead "There have been situations where I have made a mistake and she has come to me on her own" he smiled affectionately "I appreciate her for this approach and I love her for it."

-

Satoru opened his eyes, waking up from the slumber that had caught him. He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock; it was late at night. Instinctively, he glanced to the other side of the bed to find it empty and cold.

He clutched his head, remembering what had happened. He growled quietly. You haven't come back yet, it's past day two, he's starting to worry, the siblings keep asking about you too. And he doesn't know what to answer them. Should he say you're gone because of him? He's already punishing himself enough in his head.

He nervously turned on his bed. What should he do?

He knows perfectly well what he should do.

To go to you and apologise is difficult.

On the very first day he called all your friends, to find out where you were. Utahime only failed to answer, so he was sure you were there.

He growled rolling over onto his stomach in frustration. He hugged the pillow tightly, so that if it were alive he would have strangled it.

Why do you make everything so difficult?

It was supposed to be a simple arrangement: you help him with the kids, he provides everything you need. Like some stupid traditional marriage - he thought.

This was not how he had imagined it. In his mind, taking care of a kid was not that difficult. Oh boy, he was wrong. Originally he was only going to take Megumi in, you were the one who insisted that he couldn't separate siblings like that, and since you'd already agreed to the arrangement, you also had a say. He only agreed to it because you insisted.

He did not expect things to go this far. He never imagined that he would have to falsify the children's documents (Tsumiki was, according to the law, already unfit for adoption), look for a suitable flat that you could barely afford at first, or bother with the authorities and social services.

He himself was also too young to understand many things.

He knew that anything was better than letting the Zen'in clan get their hands on these kids.

He also knew that he would not have succeeded in many things without you.

His face clung completely to the pillow. It was your pillow, it smelled of you. He took it from your side as soon as he lay down.

Everything had been getting to him lately. Higher-ups had some doubts about him taking over the clan, which was ridiculous in general. His mother found out about his secret marriage, which meant he had to listen for hours on ‘how he had disgraced the whole clan’. He had to work twice as much, having a child and expenses were really considerable. Even if you shared expenses, Gojo did not yet have access to the clan's money, to throw his own money on left and right with ease. He also stopped feeling like a teenager at this point, by taking on these responsibilities, he has accept to a certain extent, the fate of an adult.

He didn't even notice, how much he started to run away from it, to distance himself, from his problems and worries. He was never in the habit of sharing his true feelings or emotions. Opening up to someone was blocked again when his best friend left. He knew, that he had let you look inside him once, at one memorable conversation. He was so weak in that moment, so shattered, after all that had happened. And you? You embraced him then, with a tenderness and care he could never have dreamed of. He knew that if only he opened up again now, you would do exactly the same. But he couldn't afford to do it again.

He didn't want to feel that he wasn't able to cope with something, again. It's silly, isn't it? He, the strongest, vulnerable?

But you saw him vulnerable. You didn't laugh at him, didn't mock him in that moment. You were tender, you showed him understanding, even if sometimes you didn't quite understand what he wanted to communicate to you, you tried. You hugged him close, stroked his hair, telling him that you would be there for him, whenever he needed you - you would be there for him, as long as he was there for you.

He wasn't there for you, was he?

He was so focused on himself that he forgot about you. You've had a tough time too, particularly with him. You were alone with it all. No. He left you alone with it all. That's not what your agreement was about, that's not how he promised to behave, that's not how he really was.

He acted like an asshole. He dumped all his responsibilities on you and yet had the audacity to complain, that you had not fulfilled one little thing, which was picking up his ceremonial outfit from the laundry, what he should do, but he was sent on mission.

A small tear appeared in the corner of his crystal eyes. It disappeared very quickly absorbed by the pillow. He shouldn't treat you like that. He sighed breathlessly, banging his head against the soft pillow.

Tomorrow he will go to apologize to you. Witnter snow was slowly falling outside the window.

He won't last another day without you.

★ --

"Utahime~~ Nice to see-" she closed the door in front of his nose, sighing with irritation, regretting that her apartment door did not have a peephole.

You just had breakfast, looking like a total crap. You just got up, even though it was late in the morning, according to your routine you should have taken the siblings to school long ago.

Hearing his voice immediately lifted your gaze from your plate. How did he find you? Why did he come here?

Ah, well, yes, he probably came to ask you to fulfill your part of the bargain and stop dabbling. You sighed. You couldn't stay at Utahime's for that long anyway, you didn't want to bother her, besides, you hadn't packed enough clothes and necessities.

You didn't want to see him at this point, but you had no choice. You spent the last two days crying, you were fed up with it yourself.

You moved away from the kitchen table, put your plate in the sink and headed for the door.

"Go away! Don't you understand that she doesn't want to see you!" Utahime shouted at the door, angrly.

"Ee~ Come on, open the door. I want to talk to her, she won't answer my calls and texts, what a man can do?" his tone did not at all betray how concerned he was about the situation. His mask was perfect enough, that he was even able to smile a little in this situation. Although he was quite cold, despite really warm winter jacket, in his kinda shakey hands he held a small bouquet of flowers behind him.

"Go to hell you moron, I also, don't want to see you too, go away or I'm calling authorities!"

"Don't be like that! Five minutes and I'll be gone! Do a friend a favour~"

"I'm not your friend!"

"Like hell you are! I saved you many times, that counts right? Like that time when I excorcise that curse that took you hostage for two days. Or that time when I-"

Utahime was about to hurl another insult in his direction when you placed your hand on her shoulder. “It's okey, give me a moment,” you whispered it so quietly that you wondered if you really said it. Her gaze expressed concern and yours expressed certainty. He had found you anyway, so why drag this out any longer? You knew he won't leave until you talk to him. “Call me as if you need something, or as if he doesn't give you a break." the violet-haired fell silent, moving away from the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

He didn't stop talking when you stood in front of the closed door. His yapping was unbearable, happily listing or coloring situations that happened to him with Utahime.

"Or when I-" he shut up when you open the door. He looked at you.

"You look like shit" he said.

"Thanks for noticing, something else to say?"

You had bags under your eyes, your voice was raspy and you looked paler than usual. When you looked in his direction, he could see how red your eyes were. He really messed up. He took a deep breath.

"If you came here to remind me of my duties, or to tell me that I'm going on a mission soon, or just to make fun of me, then go away and save us the time." you were so exhausted, however, seeing his face, which was smiling just a moment ago, gave you a new drive.

"I-"

"Ughh.. I am so done with this." you growled "You come here after two days and the first thing you find is that I look like shit? Thanks, I didn't notice!"

"Listen.." his voice is kinda...soft?

"NO! You listen!"

"O-okey..."

"Why are you acting like a brat? I've been doing practically everything for you for the past year! You disappeared for a few days, you didn't say anything, it's cool, I understand, you need space, yadda, yadda.." your voice has started to rise again "But damn it, that's not what we agreed on, I didn't sign up for doing all the work for this part of your life!" you clenched your hands into fists.

"Besides, I also have my own life, right? I'm not entitled to have a free time? Do you know how many times I came home after a mission completely tired? I wasn't at Shoko's more than once, I just went straight to make breakfast, because I knew YOU wouldn't do it!" he see how your expression is changing, now tears appear in your angry eyes.

"I-" he tried again, only to see that his voice stattered.

"Why do you do this to me?! Why can't you treat me like a normal human being?! What did I do to you?!" An avalanche of questions flowed from your mouth, again and again, just as tears covered your cheeks "Am I just a plaything to you?" you started to shake.

"N-no!" he tightened his grip on the bouquet.

"I fell so fucking used!" you started sobbing "You used me and my kindness to make life easier for yourself-" you sniffle "-you never cared about anyone or anything at all!" you looked at his winter boots, although your vision blurred completely.

"Stop! No-I-"

"I can understand, really, you may not feel anything towards these children, but me? I thought you really cared then! I thought you were sincere and open then, when…. we had… this conversation" you were slowly running out of words, the pace of this conversation was slowing down. You almost feel panic in your vains.

"Stop!" he grabbed you by the shoulder with one hand, and put the other to your lips, letting go of the bouquet of flowers, which fell to the floor. You didn't say anything anymore, you couldn't, he's hands were trembling.

"Please.. j-just..listen.." you wanted to turn away, he stopped you. The sight of you crying internally caused him pain, somehow.

"I-.. I am sorry..you're right." his voice was almost silent, despite the fact that he was close to you. Your eyes met his and despite the layer of glass, you knew he was looking at you.

"I-I am an idiot" his breathing was deep, as if saying these words made it difficult for him, or a great struggle, took his hand from your mouth, placed it on your cheek, his head went down "I've had.. I.. well.. the thing is.." he swallowed the massive lump that had gathered in his throat

"N-no.. ple-" you tried to say something.

"This.. this is hard..!! Just.." now his voice is trembling, you don't know what is happening.

"You.. don't know how hard are thing for me now.. I've.." long pause filled with nervous breath "Listen.. I know.. I've been awful to you.. y-you didn't deserve it of course.. I hurt you.. and I-I am sorry, so so sorry.."

"If this is some kind of trick to get me back-"

"No!" he imidietly put his sight to you, he look terriefied, you could see throught the glasses "I mean it.. " you looked away. He signed nervously.

"I left you with all of this.. I let you down.. I'm sorry.." he swiped away any tear that come close to falling down your red cheeks "I don't expect this to fix.. I m-mean my apology.. to fix anything.. but please" his hand was so cold, yet the sensation from this was so calming.

"Let me get this right.. I-I-I will never, ever let you down again.. one chance.. If you want to!" Do you want to? "If no.. I-I promise to back off! I leave you alone! I-I'll never hurt you again! and I'll do anything you say!" his words were speeding up "I will provide..I will make everything right.. I will try to.." his words were rapid, so fast, he almost couldn't keep up with saying every one of it. You started sobbing again. To much emotions cought you off guard.

"n-no don't cry.. please" he wispered, his second hand also landed on your cheek, you closed your eyes unable to even look at him.

He drew himself to you, embracing you whole. You could then feel how much his chest was rising in stress, and how wet his jacket was from the melted snow. His hair was also slightly wet, the glasses at his nose irritated your skin, they were so cold. But this embrace was warm, he held you like something important, precious even. Large hands stroked your back, his breath started to calm down, just like yours. You didn't know how long he held you like this.

"Please.." he started again "Try to forgive me. I.." at this moment you hugged him too, he pressed himself more to you.

"I don't want to lose you." You almost missed it, it was soft and silenty brethless, but it was full of emotions.

You waited, a long moment. A long moment when you thought about everything. You were thinking about him, your life, Tsumiki and Megumi. You didn't want to lose him too. In some way. He was the only thing that held you together. Also you don't know what you should do with your life, and he gave you a purpouse. A purpouse you were desperatly lacking. The kids gave you hope, and even thought you'll need to listen to his annoying voice every day, this is the price you could accept.

"Fine.." you said, gathering your voice to even be able to speak. You are far too soft for him. Oh, for fuck sake. "I.. forgive you.. for now." he froze.

You slowly left his embrace. Then grabbed him tightly by the collar of his jacket, pulling his face toward you "But if you do that again, I'm leaving. And don't even try to look for me. Understood?" you wanted to sound menacing, but your voice was so hoarse and the height difference between you was large enough, that it didn't work out well.

"Of course" smile appeared on his face again "You look cute y'know.." he mumbled, you let him go, growling, you looked down and see something behind his foot.

"What's that?" you asked, he quickly kicked something behind him, you heard something hit the ground on the bottom of the staircase.

"What?" he turned around to look behind and back, playfully "I don't see antything." his smile was so bright.

"Never mind." you signed.

"Let me take you home." this offer suprised you, Satoru could tell by the look "The kids miss you.. and I took your favourite take out." you looked at him suspiciously "I also cleaned the house and took kids to school."

"Now I don't belive you." you crossed your arms, he laught.

"You'll see when we get home." he corrected his glasses still smiling. "I did pretty amazing job, maybe even better than you."

"You're starting again?"

bonus:

You left Utahime's apartment thanking her for all she had done for you, saying that if she needed help, you were always available to her. She hugged you goodbye, measuring Satoru with a menacing gaze, and he waved her off, smiling goofily.

Walking down the staircase, Satoru took your backpack from you and gave you your gloves. The snow was still falling outside and it was quite cold.

When you were at the exit you noticed out of the corner of your eye a colorful bouquet of flowers, it was really pretty and quite small. You are sure you have seen these colors somewhere.

“Look.” you pointed your finger at the bouquet “Someone left it here, I wonder who it was for?” he scoffed.

“Quite ugly for me.” He didn't even look at it, just opened the door in front of him.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl: @kalopsia-flaneur

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[lotusbxtch]

The Best Ride in the Galaxy (one-shot)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

Summary: You have a thing for Poe's flight suit. He decides to be a cocky asshole about it. Sexy shenanigans ensue. Word count: 2k

Warnings: Explicit 18+, MDNI! Mostly porn with a little plot // Established relationship, thigh riding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, swearing, name calling, use of pet names (English and Spanish), dom!Poe, brief light violence (slap to the face), Poe uses a Spanish pet name (bebita) which is probably not canon but idc it's hot, no physical description of reader besides being AFAB and being taller standing than a sitting Poe, Poe makes a corny joke, Poe being a cocky smug asshole comes with its own warning, no use of y/n

a/n: This picture of Oscar & his thick-ass thighs, and @for-a-longlongtime mentioning how Poe-coded it was, inspired this fic in its entirety. A little over 24 hours later and here it is! This is my very first posted fic, so please show it some love, send it to someone who might enjoy it, and feel free to give (constructive) feedback if you wish! If I missed any warning tags, please let me know and I'll add them in. Big big thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for beta-reading and cheering me on, it means the world to me.

You run outside as soon as you hear the X-wings land, your heart in your throat. 

It’s been 7 days, but when he left, Poe promised you it wouldn’t take more than 4 for his small band of rebel fighters to complete the covert mission. Of course he insisted on going with them; he’d been stir-crazy as of late, the endless strategy meetings and arguments amongst leadership boring him to tears. He jumped at the chance to get back into the pilot’s seat. You paced restlessly those last 3 days, imagining the absolute worst had happened to him, with no way of knowing if he was even alive.

So when you rushed out to the tarmac and spotted him climbing out of his X-wing, immense relief flooded your body, followed quickly by a potent swirl of both anger and anxiety. He spotted you, his eyes lighting up, jogging towards you with that brilliant smile.

“Hey good-lookin’,” he crooned as he approached, “didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

What he didn’t expect was for you to slap him straight across his face.

You surprised the both of you - Poe was staring back at you, open-mouthed and silent, a rare occurrence; you were staring at him, anger flashing in your eyes, your palm stinging slightly from the impact.

“Baby, I know you weren’t keen on me leaving,” Poe stammered, “but this seems a tad bit–”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD, YOU ASSHOLE!” you snapped at him, loudly enough for the people around you to look around for the source of the outburst. “You told me four days, Poe, and it’s now DAY FUCKING SEVEN.” You turned and started storming back to your pod, Poe on your heels.

“Bebita, I told you it was a small team,” Poe tried to explain while keeping up with you. “We hit some hiccups in the plan and had to hide out a bit longer than we thought. If I’d tried to contact you, it would have given away our position. You know how these missions go.”

You angrily punched in the access code to the door of your pod. “Yes, I know, which is exactly why as co-general you’re not supposed to be out in the field putting yourself in harm’s way.” The metal door slid open, and you walked forward, not even looking back at him. “I don’t care if you got bored playing politics, that doesn’t mean you get to go rogue and get back in the cockpit.” Slamming your hand on the button to slide the pod door closed, you finally turned to face Poe since slapping him. You let out a shaky breath as your rage subsided. Your stomach was morphing into a simmering pool of nerves and regret. 

“Look,” Poe said, “I just… getting cooped up on base listening to those talking heads was making me crazy. I miss flying and I saw the opportunity and took it.” You knew what he said was true, but it didn’t make it any easier on you. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you scanned his body for signs of injury, until you realized… he was wearing his flight suit.

Fuck. That damn flight suit always did things to you. Obviously he had to wear it for functionality’s sake, but god, it was almost like he was made to look good in them. His shoulders looked so strong and broad, and the unisex, utilitarian cut of the orange suit somehow did nothing to hide the curve of his ample, round ass, one of your favorite features of his. You felt your mouth water as you drank the sight of him in, arousal slowly kindling in your belly.

That suit was your weakness, and the cocky smile slowly dawning on his face let you know he knew, too.

“I mean,” Poe smirked,  “at least you get to see me in your favorite outfit of mine.” Walking slowly away from you to give you a clear view of his rear, he turned and sunk into the chair in your room. You followed, magnetically drawn to him while simultaneously being flustered that he caught onto your ogling. You crossed your arms and put on your best annoyed face.

“I’m sorry for slapping you, but I’m not sorry for being mad,” you said, pursing your lips and looking away. “And trying to seduce me with your stupid uniform isn’t working.”

It was, in fact, working too well. Your breathing got shallower as you tried to ignore the gentle heat filling your body from your center outwards. Poe’s smirk deepened.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a covert operative because you are the worst at lying,” he said, grabbing your thighs and coaxing you closer to him. You acquiesced, trying and failing to look irritated, the desire plain as day on your face. Poe ran his hands slowly up and down your legs from your hips to your calves. Sliding his palms back and around your ass, he squeezed and your breath hitched. You looked down and those liquid brown eyes were staring up at you, twinkling with mischief. “I know you better than that, sweet thing,” Poe teased. “You absolutely cannot pretend that me wearing this suit doesn’t make you cream your panties.”

You fought to control your traitorous body, breathing slowly through your nose as Poe lifted the hem of your shirt and planted soft kisses on your belly, right above your pants. “Fuck you, you cocky asshole,” you tried to spit viciously, but it came out sounding slightly strangled instead. This Maker-forsaken stupid man and his stupid bubble butt and this stupid suit, you thought, your fingers weaving into the curls on his head. 

Poe’s smile only turned even more predatory, like a cat playing with a mouse. “Oh, I would, baby” he whispered, nipping your torso lightly, “but I haven’t showered in days. How about this instead…”

Suddenly Poe grabbed your hips, pulling you down into his lap and forcing your knees to buckle, your legs on either side of his thick thigh. His right arm wound around your lower back, holding you in place while his left hand snaked up your neck and into your hair. He pulled you in for a slow, soft kiss, which snapped the final tether preventing you from melting for him like he knew you wanted to. You surged forward, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth and tasting the minty aftertaste of the gum he always chews while piloting. He groans, biting your lower lip, then sliding his tongue along yours. This draws your first moans out from somewhere deep in your chest, and his eyes quickly darken when you begin grinding on his thigh.

“Oh, you like that,” Poe crooned, lips turning up into a smirk. “So fucking eager for me. So desperate to cum.”

“Fuck you, Maker-damn it,” you pant, burying your face into his neck, the smell of sweat, jet fuel, and him invading your senses. “This stupid suit is going to be the death of me.”

Poe smiles wickedly. “Why don’t you take a ride on the best pilot in the galaxy before you die, then, honey?” he purrs into your ear. You roll your eyes at his cheesy line until you feel him flex the thigh you’re straddling, creating the most delicious friction against your clothed core. You let out a breathy moan and clench your own thighs around his, starting to rock your clit against his ridge of muscle through your clothes. Slick starts dripping out of you with each roll of your hips against him. Poe moves your arms to brace on his shoulders, then slides both of his hands onto your hips to help you ride him.

The pleasure in your core starts to ratchet up, and you grind yourself harder into Poe’s thigh, throwing your head back with a moan. Poe leans to your ear, kissing and lightly licking just behind and below your earlobe, that spot he knows drives you wild. “That’s it, baby, ride it out,” he whispers into your ear. “Use all that frustration to make yourself cum on my leg.” You mewl, circling your hips and chasing your high. Your pussy contracts around nothing, and suddenly all you can think about is how much better it would feel if Poe was inside of you.

“Poe,” you whine, “I need more.” Your slick is soaking through your underwear, the smell of your arousal filling Poe’s senses. He groans, his cock painfully hard in his flight suit.

“What do you need, bebita?” he says, kissing your forehead sweetly while gripping your hips like a vice, a contrast that has you moaning wordlessly. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you,” you beg, “I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me, please.” You can feel your clit throbbing, almost painfully. Poe moans into your neck. “Baby, I told you, you do not want me to unzip this suit,” he chuckles. “But I think I can still help. Lean back a little.” You comply, and watch with glazed eyes as Poe stares right back at you, slipping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to get them wet. A shudder rips through your body when he slips both digits past the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. He groans loudly when he feels your slick folds.

“Fuuuuck me, baby, you’re absolutely drenched,” he breaths out. “Is this all for this dumb orange jumpsuit I’m wearing?” That cocky smirk reappears as he laughs at his own joke.

Letting out an annoyed breath, you huff, “it’s for you, idiot. You fucking drive me crazy. You’re the only one that’s ever gotten me this wet. Now fill me up before I lose my ever-loving mind.” 

Poe lets out another chuckle. “Yes, ma’am,” he quips, and then quickly slides the length of his fingers into your cunt, forcing a moan from your lungs involuntarily. He rocks you forward again so that you’re sitting directly on his fingers, with his palm cradling your pussy. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he commands. “Take what you need from me.”

You do exactly that, rising and falling on his thigh, swirling your hips over his soaked digits, your clit rubbing against the meat of his palm deliciously. He adds another finger, stretching you out and making you want to scream. Your hips speed up as you desperately chase your high. The wet squelching and slapping sounds of your pussy on Poe’s hand echo in the room. Poe’s panting fills your ears and your wanton moans fill his. You invade his senses in every way possible, and he can feel his dick pulse with every thrust of your hips against his thigh.

Suddenly, you start feeling the knot in your core tighten as you rocket ever-closer to your orgasm. Poe moans as he feels you clench. “Fuck, that’s it, honey, I can feel you getting close,” he whispers. “Give it to me.” His hips start lifting up, grinding, pressing his length into you as much as he can.

“Oh Maker, Poe, oh fuck,” you cry as your walls tighten. “You want me to fucking cum for you?”

“Fuuuuuuck yes baby, that’s all I want,” Poe pants. “Fucking cum all over my fingers, soak my hand, honey.”

The filth pouring out of his mouth finally snaps the knot in your stomach, and you nearly scream in ecstasy as your release shatters and blooms through your body. Poe moans your name as a rush of your slick coats his hand, and you feel him bite your shoulder as his body tenses. Sated, you slump against him, his hand still pinned under your body, both of you sticky with sweat and panting for breath. Poe uses his free hand to softly cup the side of your face, pressing kisses slowly and gently across your cheeks and nose.

You sigh as he carefully extracts his hand. Just as you peer down at him, he closes his eyes and slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking every bit of your essence off. You shudder in pleasure as you watch him. He locks eyes with you, and you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Feeling better?” Poe asks, the warm molten brown of his eyes having returned. You sigh and giggle a little. “Yes, thank you,” you murmur quietly, “but I wish I could have made you cum too.” 

Suddenly Poe looks sheepish, something that’s a rare expression for him.

“Well, uh…” he starts, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and averting his eyes. You pause, perplexed. He glances back at you, then down at the floor, and then back at you again. Poe clears his throat before he finally speaks.

 “I… actually did…��

You freeze silently, and then erupt into laughter. “Poe Dameron!” you screech. “The ‘best pilot in the galaxy’, commander of the Starfighter Corps, co-general of the entire fucking Resistance, fucking JIZZED in his pants like a teenager???” You start tittering uncontrollably, much to Poe’s embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” he grouses, which only makes you cackle even louder. He sighs, annoyed but begrudgingly satisfied.

“At least this suit needs to be washed anyway,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and you laugh so hard you start crying.

Tag list (it's here y'all!): @for-a-longlongtime @nerdieforpedro @lu62 @purelyoscar @clemdango04 @survivingandenduring @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @beezusvreeland @alltheglitterandtheroar @campingwiththecharmings @qveerthe0ry @agentjackdaniels @dizthemonster @beezusvreeland @queerponcho and anyone else who was interested!

EDIT:

Oh, you were looking for a part 2 to this one-shot? Well it’s your lucky day — Poe was being a total menace, so indeed there is now a part 2!

[secretidentie]

My Superbat prompts

I've been reading superbat since forever and I finally got a tumblr account so I thought I could ask some writers to use these.

Clark kent is at the manor to interview Bruce Wayne when Dr Freeze attacks and they're basically snowed in. Bruce trying to hide secrets and Clark getting the chance to write the story of the year in the form of an I depth exposé from inside the home of billionaire blah, blah, blah... Chaos and fluff.

Bruce is in a love triangle with superman and Clark Kent. Clark assumes Bruce knows he's one person. Bruce decides to solve this by brooding and going on a series of dates with them both until he decides who's his perfect match. (you decide if Clark knows Bruce is batman but think both versions are hilarious)

Bruce Wayne has to go undercover as a carnival worker in a small town on batman business. After the Daily Planet is bought out by corrupt government officials, Clark quits and goes back home to Smallville. He feels like he's changed and isn't as fulfilled by the simple life, not to mention how much harder it is to keep being superman. He doesn't even feel useful on the farm and can't find a job he enjoys to make some money of his own and leave the house. He starts visiting the fair to take his mind of things and meeting this handsome carnival worker who he definitely would have recognized in a small town like this.

LexCorp frames Wayne enterprises for some shady dealings putting the company under investigation which might even lead to it filing for bankruptcy. While Fox and others fix this, Bruce, as the face of the company, is advised to lay low and leave Gotham for a bit. He decides to get an apartment in the cheap side of Metropolis, since all his assets are frozen and he only has one working bank account. On top of that he has to deal with his hot new roommate (or neighbor depending on how you write it) who keeps leaving and coming back at the weirdest hours while also trying to keep tabs on Gotham and maybe getting himself a job in the mean time. (to be clear Clark is the roommate)

During an argument batman says he could easily do superman's job and superman says the same. So they swap cities for two weeks. First to call for backup looses. (feel free to add romance if you want but it's not compulsory)

Clark final gathers the courage to ask out batman but right before he does, green lantern starts flirting with batman too. Harvey dent is recently released from arkham and claims to be reformed and wanting to rekindle his well known public relationship with his collage sweetheart Bruce Wayne. This causes Oliver queen to also try to win his childhood best friend's heart. It's a very long week for Bruce. (all povs if possible. Also Bruce knows everyone's identities but no one knows his. This also doesn't have to end up superbat, choose your favorite ship. Make this love-pentagon as messy as you can)

These are just a few of my personal favorites. I have a lot more. Let me know if you want me to post them. If fics with these premise already exist let me know coz I would love to read them. You can make it as explicit as you want or make it for general audiences but for my sake please add fluff. If you use these prompts also make sure to tag me here or on AO3.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello, can I request a dream x reader where reader is his girlfriend and she gets pregnant and how they would both deal with that situation. Maybe a scene with there daughter years later

Aisle 43

Pettiness knows no bounds, especially when you're one of the Endless. This means that if a toddler is what's standing in Dream's way, then it's still very much fair game.

Dream of the Endless x Reader | 800+ | cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, vague themes of pregnancy/motherhood, jealousy, super-megapetty!Dream of the Endless, Matthew the 'I'm just happy to be here' Raven, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hi my love... i may have totally forgotten I had this in my drafts asfhasfha;sfhasfh sorreh. I JUST DID A DRABBLE BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS MELTING CURRENTLY. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <3

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

I hum as I make my way out of the soup aisle. The little girl that's been following me around the supermarket tugs at my hand repeatedly. I look down at her and she immediately points, "cereal?"

I turn to the pink cereal box she wanted and flatten my lips into a smile, "sorry, kiddo, you're gonna have to-"

"Why are you with a child?"

Both said child and I look up and see a darkly dressed man in the middle of two shelves with brightly colored items. The girl that barely reached my hips looks up at the dark silhouette then grabs my hand. She mumbles, "nightmare."

Said nightmare raises a brow. It was almost as if a dark haze began to form around him. A raven swoops down and lands on his shoulder.

In stark juxtaposition, Matthew the raven chirpily greets me and adds, "mind getting me some cornflakes?"

I push my cart forward, drawing near both them, and the item. I grab the cornflakes and go to the side of the sullen looking being. I tilt my head, "Dream?"

Dream, who has not torn his gaze away from the child, finally spares me a glance. I free my hand of the cornflakes, dropping into my cart, and use it to cup his cheek. His expression softens.

My other hand, still being tugged by the baby girl, is now tucked behind me. She peeps cautiously from my shoulder.

"I'm going grocery shopping with my coworker."

"Your coworker is a child?" Dream says with a hurt expression.

I make a face but sigh. Suddenly, the dull pain on my back is blatant. I rub my round belly that was the cause of it, "yeah. Beatrice is a prodigy. She does our work better than anyone in the department."

Dream frowns and deflates even more.

I raise my brows.

Matthew croaks as he cocks his head. He whispers, "he's been upset that you haven't been sleeping properly."

"You've not been in my realm for ages," Dream knits his brows tightly, "yet here you are with a child that is not even your own."

When Dream comes close to touch me, Beatrice whimpers and pulls me back. She panics, "nightmare! Nightmare!"

The strength of the child is not enough to make me fall back, but it is enough to make me lose my balance. I feel myself slowly lose my footing. Dream grabs me before anything happens though.

The glare that he throws at Beatrice makes her instantly clamor.

If her wailing wasn't enough to make me panic, then it was when she ran away. I turn to run after her, but Dream grabs my arm before I can get anywhere.

"Let me go!" I snap.

"But-"

"I can't lose my coworkers kid!"

"Don't worry!" Matthew takes off, "I'll keep an eye on her."

I watch as Matthew soars above the aisles and then look back down to glare at Dream. I pull my arm out of his grip, "you terrified a four year old."

Dream glares back, "she was stealing you away."

I am flabbergasted. "You literally put a baby inside me!" I motion to my baby bump and give an exasperated look, "yet you're intimidated by a 40 pound little girl- who, by the way, barely even makes up a fraction of how old you are."

He does not argue with this. He has no argument with it. Instead, he mumbles, "you dreamed of her when you napped."

I roll my eyes, "and how many times have I dreamed of you, my lord?"

He turns away, eyes landing on my belly. He pouts and stares a moment before he rubs it, "I do not enjoy when I must share your dreams with others."

The idea is equal parts exhausting, irrational, and somehow darling.

"What if I dream about our baby?" I raise a brow.

He lifts his eyes. He looks like he actually was mentally debating in that split second it took for him to reply. Dream speaks, "I would be willing to share with the blood of my blood."

I scoff and roll my eyes yet again.

He kisses my temple. A part of my hard expression chips away. I offer him an exasperated look.

Dream makes a face, "was I too much?"

I nod.

"I've got good news and bad news," Matthew calls as he swoops down, "good news, Beatrice found her mom and stopped crying!"

I release a sigh of relief.

"Bad news, she may be traumatized for life, because when a man wearing a black trench coat passed by, she started breaking down all over again."

My relief evaporates and I shoot a hard glare at Dream before pushing him out of the way. I drag my cart along with me as I walk off to look for them.

Matthew perches on the edge of the cart, "oooh, mind if we get some sunflower seeds too?"

"Not at all, my love."

Dream grumbles upon hearing this and watches as we take a turn on the candy aisle.

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Your father starts to suspect that Leon is involved with the attacks on the hikers, causing you two to get into a heated argument that leads to your father kicking you out. Lucky for you, Leon welcomes you into his home with open arms

Word Count: 7.3k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, period cunnilingus/s3x, somno, dubcon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

This part does contain period cunnilingus, s3x and somno. I have marked the beginning and end of this segment with ✧⭒⭒✧ that way you can skip it if that is not your thing

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

“Do you want to press charges, Leon?” Chief Bob asks as he walks back into his office, sitting behind his desk.

“No, it’s fine Chief Dion. It was clearly just a misunderstanding,” Leon replies; both of you are sitting on the bench across from Chief Bob’s desk again, both his arms wrapped around you.

“Alright,” Chief Bob says with a nod, “I had one of the EMTs run him over to Speare Memorial Hospital to get his nose checked out, then he should be fine to be released. Now then, tell me everything leading up to when you found Nate."

Chief Bob pulls out a notepad and both of you explain to him the events leading up to when you found Nate. You recall the two college boys that you had encountered on the trail when… when Leon was kissing you. How they didn’t smell what you smelled is beyond you. Your mind wanders back to that moment at the Basin, Leon’s muscular body pinning you to the fence while he practically devoured you. You can still feel the traces of his hands roaming down your body to settle onto your waist.

And now, he has you wrapped in his embrace as his fingers comb through your hair. You take deep breaths, taking in the smell of his cologne and his leather jacket.

“I want to thank you both for your bravery in finding Nate. I can’t say I blame those two boys you saw for not checking out the smell. I know that must have been a traumatic experience, but the information you provided will aid in the investigation into what attacked and killed him. You’re both free to go.”

“Thank you Chief Dion,” Leon replies, standing up, taking you with him, “let’s get you home, angel.”

Angel. He’s been calling you that ever since he kissed you. You thought him calling you sweetheart made you flustered; angel is on a whole new level. It makes your heart practically pound out of your chest. Back out in the parking lot, Leon opens the passenger’s side door and you climb into the Jeep while Leon walks around, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“My car is still at your house…” you say as you put on your seat belt.

“I know, it’s fine. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning. Right now I think home is the best place for you.”

“Thank you, Leon.”

The drive from the police station to your house is about five minutes. In the back of your mind you wonder how Leon knew where you lived without you telling him, but you’re way too exhausted to question it. Leon pulls into your driveway and both of you get out, which puzzles you because you figured he is just dropping you off.

“You’re coming in?” you ask, tilting your head as you both walk up to the front door.

“Yeah, I figured I’d at least apologize for breaking your Dad’s nose.”

You can’t help but let out a soft chuckle as you open the front door, leading Leon inside your house. Your mother, standing in the kitchen, looking out the window over the kitchen sink, looks at you and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank goodness you’re ok! When Terry at the police station called, we were worried sick-- where’s your father?”

“He uh…” you begin, but Leon finishes your thought.

“There was a slight misunderstanding between himself and I at the station and we got into a fight. I may have accidentally broken his nose defending myself.”

“Mick attacked you?!” your mother exclaims, clearly mortified, “oh my god Leon I’m so sorry! Please, have a seat at the dining table, let me at least treat you to dinner.”

“Ma’am I promise you it’s fine--”

“You’re better off just letting her feed you, she won’t stop until you do,” you tell Leon with a giggle. 

Leon lets out a chuckle, turning his attention back to your mother, “alright. I’d love to join you for dinner.”

“Go ahead and have a seat at the table, Leon. Hopefully Mick comes back and can fire up the grill for some burgers,” your mother says as she takes a bag of frozen french fries out of the fridge.

You and Leon sit at the table next to each other, Leon’s hand rests on top of yours, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. As if on queue, the door to the garage suddenly opens, your father walking in. He appears to have some kind of cast on his nose. 

He stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Leon seated at the dining table next to you, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

“Mick!” your mother scolds him as she gets the fries laid out onto a cooking sheet, “get the grill fired up so we can have some burgers. It’s the least you can do for attacking him.”

Mick groans, walking over to a plate where your mother had already made some beef patties. He looks over at Leon, narrowing his eyes at him.

“How do you want your burger, Leon?”

Leon looks over at your father, smirking at him, “as rare as you can make it, please.”

“Jesus… ok…”

Your father grabs the plate, opening a drawer to grab grilling supplies before heading out a sliding glass door to the backyard. Meanwhile, your mother gets the fries into the oven, setting a timer before she takes a seat at the dining table. 

“So, Leon, what do you do for a living?” your mother asks, folding her arms in front of her.

“Well… I’m technically retired actually. I can’t go into too much detail because it’s classified but I used to be a kind of government agent,” Leon replies.

“You’re retired at 36? Good for you! You must get a pretty good pension then?”

Leon chuckles, his cheeks turning a touch pink, “you could say that, yes.”

You watch your mother glance where Leon’s hand is resting on yours, looking back to him and smiling, “is it safe to assume that you’re interested in our daughter?”

Leon’s hand immediately moves off yours, “ma’am I meant no--”

“Leon it’s fine, I’m not like Mick. It’s very clear that the two of you like each other. All I ask is that you treat her right.”

“Of course,” Leon replies, putting his hand back onto yours, making you blush a bit.

Your father comes back inside with the cooked burgers, setting the plate down onto the counter, “Leon’s barely cooked one is the one off to the side there.”

Your mother stands up from the table and begins putting the burgers together. Within a few minutes, the timer goes off letting her know the fries are done. She takes the fries out of the oven, plating them with the made up burgers. 

She starts by getting Leon’s plate to him, “here you go, sweetie.”

“Thanks ma’am,” Leon replies.

“Oh please, call me Sandi. There’s no need to be formal here.”

Once all the plates are distributed, both your father and mother seat themselves at the table. You take a bite of your burger, looking over at Leon as he bites into his. You notice as he bites into his burger that his canine teeth seem to be really long and sharp. Leon notices you looking at him, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head towards you in acknowledgement. You shake your head, drawing your attention back to your burger. You’re probably just imagining things from all the stress today.

You all eat in silence, watching your father shoot daggers in Leon’s direction with his eyes occasionally. When the two of you finish dinner, you quietly excuse yourself to your bedroom, Leon following close behind you. Your father begins to protest, but you watch as your mother smacks his shoulder with the back of her hand. You head up the stairs, the heavy footfalls of Leon’s boots following behind you. Reaching the top, you walk up to your bedroom, grasping the handle, hesitating momentarily before opening it.

“Excuse the decor, this room hadn’t been touched since I was in high school. I’m still trying to get all the posters down.”

“No judgment from me, angel.” you hear him reply, your heart immediately fluttering in your chest as you turn the knob to open your bedroom door. 

You walk into your bedroom, walking over to your bed and sitting on the side of it. Leon steps into the bedroom as well, closing the door behind him before walking over to the bed, sitting next to you. He turns towards you, his hand coming up to gently grasp the side of your neck, a playful smirk crossing his lips.

“Now then, where was I?”

Before you can even prepare yourself, Leon’s lips seal over yours, his hands grasping at your body as you shift yourself onto your bed even more. Leon wastes no time gently pushing you down onto your bed, caging you with his body as he continues to kiss you. His lips move from your mouth, to your cheek then finally trailing down to your neck. His name escapes your lips in a soft moan as your right hand runs through his hair. You feel his teeth gently graze your neck before he begins sucking love marks into the side of your neck. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge of your own pleasure when Leon suddenly stops, staring down at you, his blue eyes so dilated that his eyes almost look black.

“I should probably get going,” Leon whispers, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead before he climbs off of you, standing back up.

“Do you have to…?” you ask, your voice pleading for him to stay as you sit up, once again sitting on the side of your bed.

“I do, I’m sorry angel. I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up, I promise.”

You stand up, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around him to hug him. You feel him wrap his arms around your body, feeling his lips kiss the top of your head. After a few minutes, he lets go and both of you leave the bedroom, heading downstairs. You open the front door for him, both of you stepping out into the night. Leon leans down, giving you one last kiss on the lips before he turns, walking back to his Jeep, climbing inside and starting the engine. You lean against the threshold of the front door, watching Leon drive off into the night, your heart still pounding in your chest.

“How about that guy at the Basin today, huh Jake?”

Jake had been zoning out, staring at the small fire he and his best friend, Brad, had built off of one of the trails leading up to the summit of Mt. Liberty. His attention snaps to Brad, who has a shit eating grin on his face; he matches him with his own.

“Yeah dude, I thought for sure that glare was going to set us on fire. Do you think if we hadn’t said anything that they would have started fucking right there?”

“Oh no doubt,” Brad replies, grabbing a stick from beside him, using it to poke at the small fire, “you could tell she was really into it, too.”

For a few minutes, the two make small talk and crack jokes as they share a pipe filled with marijuana, each of them taking several hits on it. Brad suddenly stands up.

“I gotta take a massive piss, be right back,” Brad declares as he turns and heads into the depths of the woods. 

“Watch out for hiker-eating monsters, might take a bite of your dick!” Jake says with a laugh as he takes another hit from the pipe, blowing out a large cloud of smoke from his mouth. 

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up Jake!” Brad calls out to him from within the woods.

Jake snickers, clearly amused with himself as he takes a few more hits off the pipe. He can hear rustling coming from the direction Brad had went, but passes it off to just being Brad until--

“Jesus Christ what the fuck is THAT?!” 

“Brad?!” Jake calls out, reaching down to his bag to pull out a hunting knife and a flashlight, turning it on. 

Immediately Jake hears Brad screaming, his voice carrying further away from the camp, so Jake makes chase.

“Brad! Where are you?! Are you ok?!” Jake calls out continually as he runs deeper and deeper into the woods.

He suddenly stops in his tracks when he starts to see blood splattered all over the ground, his flashlight slowly making its way to the source. What the flashlight finally settles on is almost incomprehensible. It is a man, but… not. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of dark colored cargo pants with work boots. Dark veins sprawl across the exposed skin, but that’s not the weirdest part. 

Four claw-like appendages are coming out of the man's back and a long, scorpion-like tail moves back and forth. The man’s mouth is latched onto his best friend’s neck, clearly sucking the blood out of him as the flashlight settles onto the man’s face; the flashlight can be seen visibly shaking. The man has short blonde hair with piercing red eyes that immediately shift to focus on Jake. The man… no… the creature takes its mouth off his friend, revealing two long, sharp canine teeth, reminiscent of a vampire. Blood drips from the fangs and its mouth as it starts to grin at Jake; it’s tongue licking the blood off its fangs.

“Holy fucking shit…” Jake mutters as he starts to walk backwards away from the creature.

The creature suddenly lunges at Jake, causing Jake to stumble backwards and start running as fast as he can in what he believes is the direction he came from. Jake tries hard not to look back to see if the creature is pursuing him. Unfortunately for him, though, his foot gets caught on a tree root that is sticking out of the ground, his ankle making a loud pop sound as he’s thrown onto the ground. The flashlight and hunting knife slip out of his hands, landing several feet away, landing so that the flashlight is pointing backwards from whence he came.

Jake hisses, turning onto his back before sitting up to check on his ankle; it’s clearly either broken or severely dislocated. Jake can hear footsteps, his gaze shifting up as they approach. He watches as boots appear in the flashlight’s beam, and as the creature stalks closer, he sees that it's standing upright, its back claws flexing and tail swinging back and forth as it gets even closer; soon Jake can see blood has dripped down onto the creature’s chest, the black veins on its skin now appearing darker than they had earlier. The creature’s blood stained mouth is smirking at him.

The last thing Jake remembers is the creature descending upon him, its mouth latching onto his neck as its fangs pierce into his skin. His blood curdling scream cut short when his throat is ripped out. 

A couple days pass after you and Leon had found Nate dead, you wake up to get ready to go work at Leon’s house with the worst abdominal cramps. You almost roll out of bed, going into the bathroom after picking out your outfit for the day to find that you had unfortunately started your period and it had completely ruined your underwear. Sighing in frustration, you throw the underwear into the trash in the bathroom, opening up the medicine cabinet to take some Tylenol for the cramps. 

After getting yourself cleaned up and dressed, you head downstairs into the kitchen to make yourself some toast for breakfast, clenching your lower stomach in an attempt to ease the pain, praying to every deity that the Tylenol would kick in soon.  

“Oh sweetie, you don’t look so good! Are you alright?” you hear your mother ask as she comes into the kitchen.

“Yeah I’m ok, I got my… you know… I just took some Tylenol so that should hopefully kick in soon.”

Your mother walks over to the radio, turning it on before she then walks over to the coffee maker, hitting the button on it so that it would start brewing. 

“So… what’s on the agenda today for my favorite remodeling couple?” your mother asks, giving you a playful smile.

You giggle, your cheeks turning red, “we should be finally finishing up the kitchen today. I think he wants to start the living room next.”

“Breaking news, authorities have now reported that two more hikers have gone missing in--”

“Mom, turn up the radio!”

Your mother turns her attention to the radio, turning up the volume.

“--Fish and Game officials have now officially closed all trails in Franconia Notch until the animal responsible can be found and euthanized.”

“Oh my god…”

“Quick let’s turn on Channel 9,” your mother says, grabbing your hand and leading you into the living room where she turns on the TV to the news.

“Good morning, New Hampshire. This just in, Fish and Game have just reported that two more hikers have been reported as missing. 22 year old Brad Shaw and 21 year old Jacob Duprey, both students at Plymouth State University were reported missing by University officials when they did not come back to campus for their classes--”

The picture of the two of them comes up on the TV, your eyes widen as you cover your mouth in shock.

“What is it, sweetie? Do you know them?”

“I didn’t know them, but Leon and I saw them the same day we found Nate dead on the Basin trail…”

“They should have closed the trails long before now… those poor hikers…”

Your father comes in, stopping to watch the news report playing on the TV, “Does anyone else think it’s odd that these attacks started happening shortly after Leon moved into Archie Mason’s place?”

Both you and your mother turn and look at your father; you raise an eyebrow at him, “Dad, you can’t be serious…”

“I am serious! The attacks started happening within a week of him showing up!”

“Dad, I saw Nate. There is no way a person could have done that to him!” you reply, raising your voice as you turn to face your father, approaching him. 

“Then what else could it be then, huh?! How else do you explain what’s going on around here? He has to be connected somehow!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to see him!”

“Mick stop--”

“No Sandi, I won’t stop! There is something not right about him, I’m sure of it!”

“Honey now you just sound ridiculous…” your mom replies, stepping between you and your father, putting her hands on his shoulders. 

“When he broke my nose… I didn’t like the look in his eyes… it wasn’t right… something isn’t right, god dammit!”

“Dad, come on!” you say, throwing your hands into the air and turning to go back into the kitchen to grab your toast.

“You get back here young lady! We’re not done!” your father roars from the living room, your mother now physically restraining him. 

“I need to go to Leon’s house to work and you’re not stopping me,” you say, walking over to the coat rack next to the front door and putting on your denim jacket. 

“You walk out that door and you are NOT allowed back, do you hear me?!” your father’s voice booms through the house.

“Mick, what is the matter with you?!” you hear your mother interject.

As much as your father got on your nerves sometimes, the statement hit deep and it hit hard, causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes as you grab your purse. You walk up to the front door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. You blink your eyes shut, a tear running down your cheek as you wrestle with your conflicting emotions. Surely your father wasn’t being serious, right? You push the door open; as you step out you can hear your father shouting after you. You rush over to your car, whipping the door open and getting in just as your father bursts out the front door, his face red in rage as he stomps over, slapping his hands onto the hood of your car as you start it.

You immediately throw the car in reverse, backing out into the street and peeling off, your tires squealing on the pavement as you make the drive to Leon’s; at this point, tears are now streaming down your face. You could only hope that your mother could talk your father down. You get there in record time; it’s a miracle you didn’t run into any cops and get pulled over, however, you reckon they’re probably out looking for the latest hikers to go missing. Parking your car in its usual spot outside of Leon’s house, you go inside, dropping off your jacket and purse before proceeding to the kitchen.

Leon is already hard at work, installing the last of the kitchen cabinets. He hears you come in, he turns to you, giving you his trademark smirk that never fails to give you butterflies.

“Mornin’ angel!” he says, suddenly noticing your eyes are red and puffy, “hey… what’s wrong?”

You waste no time grabbing your paint roller and paint, pouring some into the pan before rolling the paint roller in it, “sorry… I got into a fight with my Dad this morning before coming here.”

“About what?”

You stop just before you begin to roll paint onto the wall, taking a deep breath before you reply, “about you. He thinks you’re somehow involved with the attacks on the hikers.”

Leon scoffs, “that’s ridiculous.”

“That’s what my Mom and I said, but he wasn’t having any of it. He said to me just as I was leaving that if ‘I walked out that door that I wouldn’t be allowed back.’”

Leon shakes his head, groaning in disgust, “I really don’t like how he treats you, angel.”

“I’m just hoping Mom can talk to him, get him to see just how ridiculous he sounded that way I feel better going home tonight.”

“Stay here tonight.”

Your eyes widen as you look over at him, “Leon, I can’t ask that of you.”

“It would make me feel better if you stay here tonight. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Leon, I'll be fine, I promise. My Dad would never hurt me,” you reply, focusing on finishing painting the last kitchen wall.

“You seem to be forgetting that your father tried to strangle me.” Leon said in a ‘as a matter of fact’ kind of tone.

The worst part is, he’s right. Your father had tried to strangle him. Your father has always been quick to anger but you’d never seen him lay a finger on anyone until that day in the police station. Your father was clearly becoming more and more unhinged; especially with this recent allegation that Leon is somehow involved with the hiker attacks.

“Alright… I’ll stay here tonight.”

Immediately you notice Leon’s whole expression light up before he returns his focus on the final kitchen cabinet. The two of you finally finish up the kitchen, it being late afternoon by the time you do so. Both of you work on moving the supplies into the living room, but as you start to pour more paint into the pan Leon stops you.

“Let’s call it a day, angel. We can start the living room tomorrow since you’ll already be here.”

You nod, putting the lid back on the paint, grabbing a nearby hammer to hammer the lid back down. You sense Leon walk up from behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He gently rocks you back and forth before placing a kiss onto your cheek.

“Want me to order us some pizza, angel?”

“That sounds perfect, Leon,” you reply; you can’t help but smile.

He places another kiss on your cheek before walking back into the kitchen, you hear him pick up the phone that’s hanging up on the wall in there and place an order for delivery. About 45 minutes later, the pizza arrives and Leon gets it, paying the delivery driver before coming into the living room with it while you relax on the couch, channel surfing on his TV.

“Go ahead and dig in, I have to check something in the basement really quick, ok?” he says as he sets the pizza box onto the coffee table, giving you a quick kiss on the top of your head.

You watch him go out into the hallway, approaching the padlocked door. He takes his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the padlock and opening the door, listening to him descend the stairs. There’s a part of you that wants to follow him into the basement, just to see what is down there, but you don’t, you remain on the couch as you open up the pizza box, grabbing a slice and biting into it. Some time passes, however, and Leon still hasn’t come back up yet. Before you can decide to go check on him, you hear him coming up the stairs, watching as he walks out, locking the door with the padlock before joining you on the couch. 

He positions himself so that he’s behind you, having you seated between his legs as the two of you lay on the couch, eating pizza and watching some sitcom that you landed on as you were channel surfing. Your lower stomach suddenly cramps up, causing you to visibly and audibly wince in pain.

Leon immediately notices, “you ok, angel?”

“Yeah sorry… this is probably too much information but I started my period this morning. The Tylenol I took this morning must be wearing off.”

“Oh you poor thing,” Leon whispers in your ear, his hand snaking its way to your lower stomach, massaging his hand into it as he gives you gentle kisses on the side of your neck.

Despite your cramps, his touch felt incredible and you find yourself turning into putty in his embrace. You’re suddenly startled by the sound of Leon’s phone ringing from the kitchen. 

“Something tells me that’s my father, I’ll go answer it.” you say as you get up off the couch.

“You sure, angel? I can get it,” Leon replies as he gets up, following behind you.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” you say, walking into the kitchen, picking up the ringing phone, “hello? Kennedy residence.”

“Of course you’re still at his house…” you hear your father say on the other end, you look over at Leon, giving him a slight nod to let him know your suspicions had been correct. 

“Hello to you, too, Dad,” you say, trying to make your irritation clear in your voice.

“You need to come home right now.”

“Really? Because I clearly remember you saying if I went to work this morning that I wouldn’t be welcomed back.”

“Well I’d rather you be here than with him. If you don’t come home, I will call the police.”

“Dad, you can’t call the cops, I’m an adult!”

At this point, Leon must have had enough because he steps up beside you, grabbing the phone from you, “if you call the cops, Mick, I will report you for making a false report. I used to be a cop; you can’t pull the wool over my eyes.”

He used to be a cop? you think to yourself, biting your bottom lip as you picture him in a police uniform. 

You can’t understand what your father is saying to him, but you can tell he’s yelling because Leon holds the phone about a half an inch away from his ear, closing his eyes and letting out a long exhale through his nose. 

“Well since you’re so keen on shoving your nose where it doesn’t belong, will you stop yelling at me long enough to explain?”

You watch as Leon brings the phone back to his ear.

“What I’m about to tell you does not get repeated under any circumstances or I will have you arrested. I am a government agent, not a retired one. The branch I work for is called the Division of Security Operations, specializing in dealing with Bio-Organic Weapons, B.O.W.s, and I’ve been sent here to locate and kill a B.O.W. that got loose and is now wreaking havoc on those hiking trails. There. Are you happy now?”

Your eyes widen in shock not only at Leon’s admission, but at the fact there is some kind of weapon… a monster, loose in the forest.

“Yeah I hope you’re fucking sorry,” Leon continues, “however she’s still staying with me. In fact, I might even have her move in with me, if she wants to, of course.”

Leon looks over at you, giving you a playful wink as you digest what he just said. You feel your stomach twist into knots. 

“Your days of controlling your daughter are over, you hear me? She and I will have a chat about her moving in and you’re going to accept whatever she decides to do. Take care of yourself, Mick,” Leon finishes as he slams the phone back on the receiver. 

The two of you stand by the phone in silence, your mind spinning.

“I know that was probably a lot to take in just now, but unfortunately the same applies to you, if you repeat that to anyone, I’ll have to have you arrested, too,” Leon says as he places his hands on your hips, pulling you gently to him.

You quickly shake your head, looking up into his ocean eyes, “o-of course not! I won’t say a word to anyone, promise!”

“Good girl,” he purrs, leaning down to give you a kiss on the lips. 

After the two of you break the kiss, you continue, “do you really want me to move in with you? You don’t think that’ll be moving too fast?”

Leon smiles down at you, “I have never been more sure of anything in my life, angel.”

You gather that Leon can feel your hesitation, he wraps his arms around you in a protective hug, resting his chin on top of your head. 

“Stay here for a few nights, then see how you feel, how does that sound?”

“O-Ok… I can do that, Leon.”

Leon is in heaven, or at least as close to heaven as he’ll ever get. After getting his angel to stay with him at least a couple nights, he got her back into the living room and back onto the couch, where he has her between his legs, his arms wrapped around her as the both of them ate the pizza he ordered and mindlessly watched TV.

He was grateful that her father had called, having pulled the government agent story out of nowhere to get Mick off his ass, at least until he could find a way to get him out of the picture. He is clearly protective of his offspring and for Leon, that is a problem; he may have gotten Mick off his ass now, but it was only a matter of time before Mick would be back on it again. 

The subtle scent of blood lingers in the air, he smelled it as soon as his angel had come into the house. She didn’t have to tell him she was on her cycle, he already knew. He had to make an impromptu trip into the basement to quench his thirst because of it. As the night wears on, he feels her become totally limp in his embrace as sleep takes her. He takes the remote from her hands, flipping it to the news where they’re reporting on the two missing hikers from Plymouth State University. What would his angel do if she knew one of them was in the basement right at this moment, barely clinging to life to serve as his meal?

It was a good thing he grabbed the other hiker and brought him here as he watches the report that they’re closing all the hiking trails in Franconia Notch. He’d have to find another way to get his meals. He might have to expand his hunting radius but he’d worry about that later. Soft snores from his angel break his thoughts, he looks down at her, giving her a gentle smile. He slowly moves out from under her before picking her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style up to his bedroom. Once in his bedroom, he approaches the bed, gently laying her onto it. She stirs in her sleep, her eyes opening slowly.

“Leon?” her voice barely a whisper as she fights her fatigue.

“I just brought you up to the bedroom, it’s ok,” he replies, running his fingers through her hair, “go ahead and get yourself comfortable, I’ll just be in the bathroom for a minute.”

Going into the bathroom, he turns on the light and shuts the door behind him. Pulling off his shirt, he lets himself relax for a minute; the black veins slowly appear as they sprawl over his skin, his eyes turning red as he stares at himself in the mirror. He’s hopeful that he won’t have to hide his true nature from her for too much longer; once he gives her his gift, he’ll show her that he’s the perfect mate for her.

He inhales deeply, rolling his head; slowly the black veins start to disappear once more and his eyes are back to their brilliant ocean blue. Discarding his pants and boxers, he finds a pair of gray sweatpants, putting them on before opening the bathroom door back up and shutting the bathroom light off. He sees she’s under the covers, her shirt and pants laying in a pile next to the bed. He approaches the opposite side of the bed where she lay, getting himself under the covers with her, wrapping his arms around her as he closes his eyes.

✧⭒⭒✧

However, no matter how much he chases sleep, it never comes. The subtle scent of blood is still driving his hunger wild. Meanwhile, she is sound asleep on her side; he watches as her chest gently rises and falls with each breath she takes. He gingerly tosses the covers off of both of them, admiring her nearly nude form. He fought with himself for a moment, not wanting to feed off her to sate his hunger; then, he has an idea. 

He positions himself at the end of the bed, gently rolling her so that she’s on her back. Hooking his fingers onto the hem of her underwear, he slowly pulls them down off her, slipping them off her legs before tossing them onto the floor with the rest of her clothes. He gently parts her legs, taking a moment to admire her cunt; he practically salivates when he sees the telltale string coming out of her. He climbs on top of her, being careful not to wake her as he wraps his index and middle finger around the tampon string, slowly pulling it free. Once it’s out of her, he climbs off her, walking into the bathroom for a moment to discard it before coming back to her, nestling himself between her legs. The smell of her blood is overwhelming now as he brings himself within inches of her hole.

His fangs descend in his mouth, but he doesn’t care, she won't be able to see them in the low light, not like he can see her. He runs his tongue up her slit, his lips then sealing themselves over her clit as he gently sucks on the sensitive bud. He then slips two fingers inside her, curling them upwards inside her to stimulate her g-spot; he hears her moan softly, her hips gently shifting beneath him.

“Wha--” he hears her say as she rouses from her slumber, quickly realizing he is in between her legs, “L-Leon! What are you doing?!”

He unlatches himself from her clit, looking up at her and smiling while he continues to fuck her with his fingers, “shhhhh it’s ok… just let me take care of you. It’ll help your cramps, I promise.”

“But I’m on my-- oh my god…!” she attempts to protest, but is cut off by her own moan as she lays her head back onto her pillow.

He watches with delight as her hips move in time with his fingers digging into her, his pupils dilating as blood begins to seep onto his fingers.

“Doesn’t that feel good, angel?” he purrs as he slowly pulls his fingers out of her, taking a moment to clean his fingers off like a lollipop.

The sudden wave of euphoria hits him like a train; her blood tastes divine, unlike anything he has ever tasted ever since he was given his gift. Looping his arms around her thighs, his mouth dives back between her legs, his tongue forcing its way inside her. He lets out a low growl as her blood flows into his mouth, unable to contain himself as he fucks her with his tongue. Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair, pushing down so that he stays there; clearly she’s enjoying herself, much to his delight.

Her legs violently tremble in his grasp as she edges closer and closer to her release and he doesn’t relent, his nose pressing into her swollen clit as his tongue continues to devour her. With a loud cry, she finally comes on his tongue, a mix of her arousal and her blood flowing freely into his mouth, which he happily swallows. He reluctantly unlatches his mouth from her entrance, blood dripping down his lips and chin and onto the sheets. As much as he wants to lick her blood off his lips, he doesn’t, instead wiping it from his mouth on the back of his forearm before he proceeds to slip off his sweatpants, his erection springing free from its fabric prison.

He strokes himself momentarily before he settles his hips between her legs, pressing the head of his cock against her hole. Before he pushes himself inside her, her hand comes up, pressing against his chest to stop him.

“Do you have protection?” she asks, the nervousness clear in her voice.

“I mean, I have a 9mm in my nightstand…”

She playfully punches his shoulder as she giggles, “that’s not what I mean!”

He lets out a chuckle, clearly amused with himself, “unfortunately I wasn’t expecting you to stay the night, so I didn’t think to buy condoms, angel. We can stop now if you want to.”

Please, don’t say stop.

“Promise you’ll pull out,” she says softly, her arms caressing his biceps as she looks up at him longingly, "I want this… I want you…"

He smiles down at her, relieved, as he brings his hand up to caress her cheek, “I promise.”

She gives him a gentle nod, giving him the ok to continue, shifting his gaze down to where their two bodies meet as he slowly pushes himself inside her. It takes everything in him to take it easy with her, his primal need to breed screaming in his subconscious.

He stops about halfway inside her, looking back up into her eyes, “let me know if it hurts, ok?”

“It’s fine… it actually feels really nice. Keep going,” she replies, he smiles when her cheeks start to turn red; he loves how flustered she gets around him. 

He then continues to push himself inside her until he’s balls deep. He can already feel her squeeze around his cock; a miracle that didn’t make him cum on the spot.

“I’m going to start moving now, ready?” he whispers, stroking her cheek again to reassure her. 

He watches her nod again and he cages her body beneath him as he begins to thrust into her. He leans down, sealing his lips over hers, moaning into the kiss as her arms wrap around him. 

“Fuck, angel, you’re so fucking tight… you’re perfect…” Leon growls, his thrusts becoming faster and more powerful.

“Leon… oh f-fuck…! I’m… oh god…!” she cries out, becoming a moaning mess as he pounds into her.

With each thrust he feels the head of his cock kiss her cervix, driving his instinct to breed her wild. He sits up onto his knees, grabbing her legs and looping his arms around them as he chases his release. His angel cries out, feeling her grab his forearms as she cums on his cock. The feeling of her release nearly pushes him over the edge; he pulls out of her before that happens, giving himself powerful strokes with his hand before ropes of cum spill onto her stomach, marking her as his.

As both of them come down from their high, he stares down at her, admiring how lovely she looks covered in his seed, even though he’d rather have it inside her, leaking out of her hole. Subtle movement in his seed catches his attention; a larva from his gift squirming about. Before she has a chance to notice it, he reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing the box of tissues from it and pulling out a few sheets.

“Such a dirty girl you are, angel,” he coos, cleaning up his cum along with the larvae.

Thankfully, she's too cock drunk to even realize what he just cleaned up, her eyes closed as she takes deep, heavy breaths as her body trembles beneath him from her own orgasm.

He takes a moment to lick her blood from his hand while his angel’s eyes are closed. Standing up from the bed, he leans down and places several kisses on her cheeks and forehead.

“How was that, angel?” he asks, smirking.

He watches her eyes slowly open, looking at him with complete admiration as she continues to take deep breaths, “that was perfect. You were right, it did actually help with the cramps.”

“It’s like I know what I’m talking about,” he replies with a chuckle as he gently coaxes her out of bed by taking hold of one of her hands, “come here, angel, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep, hm?”

The two of them go into the bathroom, Leon making sure to toss the tissue into the toilet and flushing it before the two of you get into the shower to clean up. Once finished, he guides her back into bed, holding her in his protective embrace as they both drift off to sleep.

✧⭒⭒✧

The next morning, the sound of pounding at the front door awakens him, his eyes slowly opening as he lets out a groan. The pounding at the door continues, which causes his angel to stir in her sleep.

“What’s that noise… Leon…?” she asks, her voice slurred from her slumber.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to go check, keep getting rest, angel,” he replies, giving her a kiss on the top of her head as he climbs out of bed, grabbing his sweatpants and putting them back on before heading downstairs to answer the door, “I’m coming, you can stop pounding my door down!”

“Good morning Leon, sorry to bother you,” Chief Dion says as Leon opens the door, “got a few minutes to chat?”

Part 5

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

Note:

This is my first ever post, so please be kind! I've been working on this piece for a few days, and there will be more parts to come, but it may take some time to complete. The story will also include text messages between you and your friends (SMAU). I'll do my best to maintain a good length for the story, but there may be some shorter parts. Also, I'm new to this, so there may be a few errors, but I hope you enjoy the story! :)

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: Whenever I can, no set date.

WC: 2756

Description: Characters are aged up. Y/N's stuck in a toxic relationship with her controlling boyfriend, feeling lost and doubting herself. Now, she's facing a crucial choice: stay put or find the courage to break free and reclaim her independence. Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings: [18+] This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Your friends have been telling you to leave your boyfriend for months now. They warned you about him, about his manipulative, controlling, and narcissistic nature, which contributes to his toxicity. They keep pointing out his flaws – how he always wants. No. NEEDS to tag along wherever you go, how he tries to control what you wear and who you hang out with. And don't even get started on the name-calling and arguments that seem to happen like every single day. But despite all their warnings, you find yourself wondering if maybe it's just his way of showing he cares… it was all out of love wasn’t it? If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t act the way he does… 

Right…?

You're constantly caught in a loophole of conflicting feelings. On one hand, you can't help but notice the red flags they've been waving in your face. But on the other hand, there's a part of you that wants to believe there's genuine love behind his actions. He loves you?

Right…?

Still, you can't help but question: does all this make him a "bad boyfriend"? Sure, he's not physically abusive, but his mood swings leave you feeling like you're walking on eggshells. As you grapple with these thoughts, you can't help but wonder where to draw the line between love and toxicity.

"Y/N!"

You snapped back to reality as Maki's voice cut through your thoughts, finding yourself now parked in front of Yuta's house, a 15-minute drive from your own.

"Are you okay? You've been lost in thought the entire car ride here," Maki asked, a mix of concern and confusion evident in her tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just thinking about the exams coming up," you replied with a forced smile, though it didn't seem to convince her entirely. Luckily for you, she didn't question further. 

You made sure to silence your phone before heading out, knowing the argument that would likely occur with your boyfriend over your plans with friends. It wasn't news to you that he disapproved of your friendship with Yuta and Inukami, despite having plenty of female friends himself. Hypocritical isn't it. But today, you decided to take a stand. You were tired of the never-ending arguments and his controlling behaviour. It felt like you couldn't say or do anything without setting him off, and honestly, you were fed up with it.

You felt it was the right decision, even if it meant facing another argument later. You were determined to spend the day enjoying yourself with your friends, and if that meant upsetting him, then you were willing to deal with the consequences. After all, arguments had become a daily occurrence between you two, so what harm would one more do?

You didn’t quite know where this newfound confidence had come from. Normally, the thought of upsetting him would send shivers down your spine, making you hesitant to go against his wishes. But today was different. You were reaching a breaking point, tired of his behaviour and the constant strain it put on you. Mentally, you were drained. Ever since getting together with him, you'd been affected with a sense of unhappiness, a feeling that even your friends had picked up on. All they wanted was to see you happy again, but it felt like an impossible challenge to break free from his control and spend time with them. He dictated every aspect of your life, and you were beginning to realize just how suffocating it had become.

He felt like a never-ending storm cloud, hovering over you wherever you went, casting a shadow of negativity that left you feeling drained and miserable. It was as if his presence drained your strength, both physically and mentally, until you were left feeling defeated. You knew deep down that the only way to find a “cure” was to get rid of him, but it was far from simple. If it were that easy, you would've done it long ago, at the first signs of trouble.

Believe it or not, he wasn't always like this. That's why you were drawn to him in the first place. But as time passed, things only seemed to deteriorate. A part of you held onto hope that he would revert to the person he once was—caring, supportive, and loving. Yet, as months turned into nearly a year, nothing changed. If anything, it only seemed to worsen. 

Why? Why did he change? Was it something you did? Was it your fault? Did you somehow fall short? He always made you question your self worth. He made you believe that this was what you deserved—that you deserved to be hurt, to be broken. He convinced you that you weren't worthy of more.

You and Maki entered Yuta's house, using the spare key you both had. It was a common practice among your close group of friends; you all had keys to each other's homes. After all, you practically grew up together, so there was nothing unusual about dropping by unannounced.

Inumaki and Yuta greeted you warmly as you entered the living room, where they were too focused on a video game. As the hours passed, laughter filled the room, followed by playful teasing and occasional cussing at each other due to the intense gaming moments. You all talked about life, ate your favourite meals, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of happiness return. It was as if you were reconnecting with the positive, joyful version of yourself that had been buried beneath the weight of recent struggles.

"I'll be right back! Just need to use the bathroom," you announce before grabbing your phone and heading off.

"Do you want us to pause the movie?" Yuta offers, showing his consideration for your absence.

"No, it's okay! Keep watching, I'll be quick," you assure them with a laugh as you slip away.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, it was almost 9pm. Your peaceful day took an abrupt turn when you saw multiple missed phone calls from no other, your loser of a boyfriend. 

**5 MISSED PHONE CALLS AND MESSAGES BETWEEN Y/N & BF**

Luckily, Maki, Inukami, and Yuta were too engaged in the movie to notice your lengthened absence. However, tears welled up in your eyes as you read the messages, feeling the weight of self-doubt creeping in once again.

"I’m just a bitch. That’s all I am. I'm nobody," you muttered to yourself, your eyes red as you struggled to contain your emotions. You couldn't afford to show weakness in front of your friends. This shouldn't affect you, you reminded yourself. You knew this was coming, so why did it hurt so much?

Knock Knock

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your thoughts. "Hey, Y/N. You okay in there?" Maki's concerned voice broke through your internal chaos.

Fuck.

Of course, Maki sensed something was wrong. She had picked up on it the moment she picked you up. She wasn't one to pry, though. She respected your privacy, and if you didn't bring up the issues first, she wouldn't force them out of you. That's why you cherished her friendship so much—she was the best friend anyone could ask for.

You wanted to tell her, you really did, but you knew all too well what her response would be, and frankly, you didn't want to hear it—not today. All you wanted was to be with your friends, to immerse yourself in their company and forget about your troubles, if only for a little while. You didn't want them worrying about you or your mental state. So you took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, hiding all the negativity like you always did.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just on the phone with my mom," you said, forcing a smile as you opened the bathroom door, only to be met with Maki's skeptical expression. Her raised eyebrow spoke volumes, questioning your excuse without saying a word. But she didn't press further. Instead, she offered a soft smile and placed a comforting hand on your back.

"You're missing the movie. We decided to pause it when you didn't return after five minutes. Come on, let's go," she said gently, leading you back to the living room.

You both made your way downstairs and settled back onto the couch, resuming the movie with the others. After a few minutes, Yuta stood up from his spot and took a seat beside you, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear so only you could hear him.

"Hey, I know you haven't been feeling your best lately, and I understand why... But I want you to know that you can always talk to me. To us. We're here for you, no matter what." he whispered, his words causing your heart to stop for a moment. A soft smile spread across your lips as he leaned back, his eyes meeting yours with warmth.

"Thank you," you replied softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the movie continued. Resting on each other like this was a familiar gesture among your group—it was something you all did since childhood, a sign of trust and comfort. So when you leaned on Yuta's shoulder, it wasn't a romantic gesture—it was more like seeking comfort from an older brother figure. Your friends have always been there for you, caring and supportive, much like older siblings would be.

Finally the movie finished, with the time now showing 11:16pm—it’s very late, thank god you guys had no classes scheduled for the next two days.

"It's getting late, Y/N. Are you ready to head back?" Maki asked, her expression soft with concern.

Before you could answer, Inukami jumped in with a hopeful tone, asking if you guys could stay a bit longer. You could tell he was really loving the reunion, bringing back memories of all the fun times your group had shared in the past… just like before you got into a relationship. 

"Yeah, come on, Maki and Y/N! We haven't had this much fun in a while. It feels good for the group to get back together again," Yuta chimed in, his gaze shifting between Maki and you. The collective attention turned to you, though you knew it wasn't intentional—they subconsciously understood that the decision rested with you, or rather, with your boyfriend's expectations.

Even though it was late, the idea of going home to an empty house, knowing your boyfriend would be out, doing who knows what, filled you with dread. You knew it would only trigger more overthinking and anxiety so with a reassuring smile, you decided against it. Tonight, you didn't feel like going home, and that was perfectly okay.

"Fuck it," you thought, smiling back at them. 

"Why don't we have a sleepover?" You ask, breaking the silence. Their eyes widen in shock, the suggestion catches everyone off guard. It's been a while since the last sleepover, back before you started dating your controlling boyfriend. They've tried to organize some since then, but you always declined, due to your boyfriend's disapproval.

Of course. Typical.

Their initial shock quickly turns into smiles and nods as they exchange glances before turning back to you.

"Let's do it!" Maki says with excitement.

All of them cheered in excitement, and the lively conversation continued throughout the night until exhaustion finally led to all of you drifting off to sleep on Yuta's spacious and comfortable couch. Despite the cozy setup, you found it hard to sleep as your mind continued to race, clouded by thoughts of him once again. Unable to find peace, you quietly slipped outside to the backyard, just to get some air.

Yuta awoke shortly afterward, noticing your absence. He got up from the couch, careful not to disturb Maki and Inumaki and began searching the house, half expecting to find you sleeping in his room. But you weren't there. He started to slightly panic as he considered the possibility of you leaving without informing anyone. How did you get home? Was something wrong? Why would you leave without saying anything?

As his mind rushed with worry, Yuta made his way to the backyard door and spotted you sitting on the stairs. Leaning against the door frame for a moment, he gathered his thoughts before joining you outside, silently taking a seat beside you.

"Hey," Yuta says as he settles beside you.

You jump at the sudden sound, caught off guard by his unexpected presence. "Omg, Yuta," you playfully shove his shoulder, "don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," he chuckles softly, "didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing out here this late?" he questions.

"Couldn't fall asleep so I decided to get some air."

"Something on your mind?" He asks with concern.

I smile at him. "No."

"Come on, Y/N. I've known you for years; you think I can't tell when something's on your mind..."

You both sit there in silence for a moment before he speaks up again.

"Is it—"

"Mhm. But I don't want to talk about him. I'm here with you guys today, and that's what's important. Not him," you state, trying to change the conversation away from your boyfriend.

Yuta gives you a reassuring smile and nods, but then an awkward silence settles between you. It's unusual; conversations with your friends usually flow effortlessly, so why does it feel so difficult now?

After a moment, you decide to break the silence.

"Yuta..." you begin hesitantly.

He meets your gaze with a soft look. "Yeah?"

"I'm thinking about breaking up with him, you know," you confess.

Yuta's eyes widened in shock, a spark of excitement shining in him. As your best friend, he genuinely cares about your well-being and wants what's best for you. They all do, and they know that leaving your boyfriend will bring out the best in you, bring back the real you.

"Really?! How come... I mean, I already know why, but I'm just curious after all the times we've mentioned it to you, you never really pa—"

"Yuta," you interject, giggling at his enthusiasm.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, and being here with you guys today reminded me of the times we used to have together before him and I got together. And honestly... I haven't felt happier and more relaxed in a long time until now. It's like when I'm with you guys, I'm constantly smiling, laughing, talking, and I never feel judged. But with him, I feel so... miserable. I don't even remember the last time he and I actually talked and had a laugh together. It's always arguments, and he's the one who always starts them over nothing."

Yuta places a comforting hand on your shoulder and gently wipes away the tears on your face. You hadn't realized you were crying. You tried your hardest not to cry for months, but while telling Yuta how you felt, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Shhh... it's okay, Y/N. I'm glad you feel like yourself when you're with us. You deserve so much better than that jerk," he reassures you, his words bringing a sense of comfort.

He never fails to make you laugh.

"Thanks, Yuta," you say gratefully.

"Hey, what are you guys doing outside?" Maki and Inumaki mumble sleepily as they stand at the door.

Yuta grins mischievously and glances over at them. "What's with that ugly grin?" Maki jokes, prompting laughter from everyone.

"MAKI!" you all shout in unison, teasing her.

Yuta can't contain his excitement any longer. "Y/N is planning on breaking up with her boyfriend!" he blurts out.

If Maki and Inumaki thought they were awake before, they're definitely wide awake now. They exchange shocked glances between you and Yuta, repeating the gesture several times. You can't help but smile; despite the gravity of the situation, you feel a sense of pride. Proud that you've finally gained the courage to do something you've been wanting to do for months.

"You're not messing with us, right? Because I swear to god Y/N, if I find out yo—" Maki begins, her voice tinged with concern.

You cut her off before she can finish her sentence. "I swear I'm not messing with you guys. I'm going to do it tomorrow night."

Yipeee!! Go Y/N!!! finally we've all been waiting for this moment.

im currently working on the next part so please be patient!

Also, thank you so much for reading!

[cheapshrimpysheep]

If you are willing, I crave more Idia content. I really like the first date thing you wrote for him, and I’d love to see how you’d approach the idea of him being a bit bolder with his crush upon finding out somehow that they have a crush on him too! Tysm and congrats! 🩵💙

COMMENTS: Thank you for the request. Idia is one of my favorites. 💙 And maybe that's why I wrote a little more than I usually do. And in a slightly different way too.

I hope you and all enjoy it. 😉

CHARACTERS: Idia Shroud (Ortho as his accomplice)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting

WORD COUNT: 850 words

How did he find out?

Idia found out because of Ortho. Knowing that his older brother had a crush on you, he decided to find out if you could have a crush on him too. Since Idia wouldn't try anything at all unless he was absolutely sure your feelings would be reciprocated.

First Ortho studied your vital signs and other physical changes to see if they changed when his brother was around or mentioned. And, according to his studies and test results, the changes that happened to you squared with the changes that occur when one person has a crush on another.

Why do all that if some of your closest friends could confirm your crush on him? Because that information would not be enough for Idia, he needed scientific proof too.

How would he react?

Denial! “Come on! Those results can't be right. I mean, with all this handsome SSR OP characters around? They could have a prince, why would they want me? You must have some bug. Let me check.”

“NO! I’m fine!” Ortho replays “I can guarantee you that all my software is up to date and there is no warning from my antivirus.” They got into an argument long enough for Ortho to convince Idia that it's true that you have a crush on him. Would that take hours? Days? It doesn't matter. The Shroud may very well be the most stubborn students in the entire school.

How would he start acting around you?

Well, it depends. Of how many people and who is around you.

If you are in a place where he feels socially uncomfortable, such as surrounded by extroverted friends of yours, you will be his shield. He won't let go of you. And he will only talk to you, or at least try to only talk to you. If those people are the shadows in the room and he is a child afraid of the dark trying to sleep, then you are his teddy bear that puts him to sleep when he hugs you.

Well, he wouldn't literally hug you in public, but the feeling is extremely similar.

If he is very anxious, he may discreetly hold your arm. And he will try to convince you to accompany him to a place where he feels more at ease.

If you were out in public but in a situation that was within his comfort zone, for example at the board games club, or surrounded by someone he already has a little more confidence in, he will still be reserved, at least in the eyes of others.

He would always be close to you, sit next to you. Not in the sense that he is glued to you, but in the sense that you are the person he feels most comfortable with. Like I said before, his teddy bear.

Since he is in a place where he feels comfortable, he can forget about the others while talking to you, by accident, and flirt with you a little. Tucking his arm around your shoulders as he talks. Talking to you in that deep voice and with his confident smile on his face.

If anyone in the room shows they can hear you two or can tell you're flirting, he'll back away from you a little bit completely embarrassed by the situation. And yes, the ends of his hair will turn pink.

And if you are in private, most likely in his room, there will be nothing to assuage his pride.

He will treat you most of the time like his best friend. At least until such time as something happens or is said that gives him an opening to flirt with you. A bet on a video game for example?

“You want to take a walk with me one day? To leave my room of my own free will?” Idia smiles smugly at you “Fine, sure, of course... if you beat me at Star Rogue.”

You two were sitting, playing some video games.

“That's not fair!” you protest “You know nobody can beat you!”

“I'm glad you're smart enough to see the trick. If you had accepted I would have started to worry about your ability to fall into a deadly trap in the future. Wisdom is not an attribute to be neglected.”

“If you don't want to take a walk with me, all you have to do is say no. Or no, thanks.”

“I know, that's why I never said no. Are you not paying attention?”

You don't want to play that, so you get up sulking and walk to the door to leave. You expect him to stop you but he doesn't. You try to leave, but the door won't open.

Idia gets up and walks over to you. Still with your back to him, you see his hand land on the closed door. You turn around and he's basically "kabe-don" you.

“Hey, come on, these kinds of achievements shouldn't be so simple to get, don't you think? And do we really need to go outside? There are so many things we can only do inside.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Tear Down My Reason [6]

Blue Jones x nonbinary afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 13: Shower Sex

Summary: Blue makes you jump.

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for beating and saving me as always! And for good baby!

Warnings: kissing, pet names, fingering, p in v sex, shower sex, always gonna say a bit of dub con because reader is a paitent, however everything is consentual, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1241

You were allowed to walk about in some parts of the asylum unaccompanied during free time. You didn’t need permission to go down this corridor.

But it still made you uneasy when you were on your own. 

Russell, one of the newer orderlies, was watching you from the end. Seemingly waiting for you to walk past him. You swallow. 

The sense that if you turn and go the other way would be a very bad move fills your chest at the same moment you know that walking past him will also be. 

You slow your step, thinking rapidly, maybe you were overreacting. Blue would have-

You yelp as someone grabs you from behind and pulls you into the showers, you try to yell through the hand on your mouth, about to lash out, but quickly relax when you hear his voice.

“Shh, shh, Honey, Honey, it’s me.” Blue moves to stand in front of you, his hands on your arms, stroking your skin. “Sorry I scared you.” 

You give him a weak, but playful smack on his forearm and he grins. “You’re lucky I didn’t bite you.” 

He moans and pulls a face, “Honey,” he steps closer, lightly rubbing his hips against you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

You chuckle, “I didn’t promise anything.” 

He pouts playfully, “Well could you? Can’t just say something like that and expect me to be all casual about it. I wanna feel your teeth.” 

You snort and take a step back just to goad him. “Do you?” 

He nods eagerly, following. “Yes.” 

“And what exactly were your plans when dragging me into the showers?” 

“To fuck you in the shower.” He says simply, a little smirk on his lips. 

You give him a look, pretending that it doesn’t sound like a very interesting idea. “In the showers? When anyone could walk in?”

“I’ll lock the door.” He says eagerly, holding up his masterkey. “Come on,” he traces the edge of your top with the tips of his fingers. “Nice warm water and me between your legs?” 

The soft look he gives you is almost impossible to refuse, not that you’d want to anyway. “You make a compelling argument.” 

He grins, sliding his fingers under your t-shirt. “I sure do Honey.” He leans forward and kisses you messily, groaning when your tongue strokes his. He breaks the kiss for half a second to put his key in the door and lock it and then tugs your top over your head. 

Blue pauses as he traces the love bite bruises he’d left on your neck, a low groan reverberating through his chest. 

You shiver, partially because of the cold but mainly because of his touch and his eyes darken. 

“Ugh, Honey, Honey,” he mutters, kissing you senseless and walking you backwards towards the first shower stall. 

While the ones in this part of the building were separate from each other, there were no curtains, meaning whatever orderlies were usually monitoring wash time had a full unencumbered view of the patients. 

He pulls down your trousers and underwear, making you giggle when he tries to accomplish this and not break the kiss. You kick off your slippers and socks, not caring much for where they land.

The cold tile on your back makes you gasp and Blue chuckles, “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters as he turns on the shower head, shielding you with his body until he finds the correct temperature. 

“Mmm, see?” He rubs your arms affectionately, “all nice and warm.” 

“You’re getting soaked.” You laugh, pulling his t-shirt lightly. He was still in his jogging bottoms as well, but had, at least, slipped off his shoes. 

“This needed a wash anyway.” 

You snort as he pulls them off, letting them fall to the bottom of the shower and soak through completely. His cock bobs free, heavy and swollen with need.

“Now, I was promised some teeth,” he leans close, pressing you up against the warming titles. 

“I never promised anything.” 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance and sink your teeth into his neck. 

Blue groans instantly, becoming pliant in your hold. He pants in your ear as you nip and suck, muttering affirmations and sweet praises with every breath. 

“Bite me harder, Honey, please.” He slides his hand down to your thigh and hooks your left leg around his waist. “I really want to feel it.” 

You sink your teeth deeper, taking care to not break the skin and Blue shivers, weakly bucking against you. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” 

The water is a good temperature now, steam rising in the small space. 

Blue slips his hand down your chest, squeezes your right breast and flicks the nipple with his thumb until it hardens before he trails down your stomach and to your clit. 

Your hips buck instantly as he rubs it gently with his forefinger. 

“Mmmm, yeah,” he groans, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep biting, keep sucking, that’s real good Honey.” 

You do your best, saliva slipping from your lips and mixing with the water running down his chest as he rubs and rolls your clit in a tantalising rhythm. 

You moan into his skin, grabbing hold of his forearm. 

“Fuck, real good Honey.” He grinds his hips against you, rubbing his leaking cock along your inner leg. “You just keep your mouth nice and full and I’ll make you come, okay?” 

You whine, squeezing his forearm as you scrape your teeth along his jugular. 

“Oh god, yes.” Blue gasps, clenching his jaw as pleasure flows down his spine. 

Your thighs start to shake as he keeps stroking, keeps pulling you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You gonna be a good baby and come?” He mutters.

You sob out an affirmative and Blue grows. 

“Good baby.” He removes his hand from your clit quickly, but doesn't give you enough time to lament the loss before he takes hold of himself and pushes inside. 

You gasp, your mouth opening as he splits you open, filling you so perfectly. 

“So fucking good Honey.” He snaps, his voice gruff and strained as he bucks and rocks, ending each deep thrust with a roll of his hips that presses the dark curls between his legs perfectly against your clit. 

“Blue!” You bite down on your lip, holding him tightly as he moves, only able to hold on and take it with one of your legs around his hip. 

He swears, punctuating every thrust that has you seeing stars and clawing at his back. 

“I’m gonna…” You whine, your body buzzing. 

“Gonna let me fill you up Honey? Gonna be a good baby and let me fuck my cum into you?” He snarls. 

“Fuck.” You come hard, shivering in his hold as your tense and spasm, euphoria flooding your veins and leaving you weak and waitless. 

“Hon-ey,” Blue whines pitifully as he fucks you through it, bucking wildly until he follows you with a deep groan and sigh. 

He stumbles against you, pushing you back further against the wall and swearing. 

“Sorry Honey, sorry,” he moves back a fraction, stroking your cheek.

“It’s okay,” you grin, holding him close as he releases your leg from his hip. 

He gives you a completely sincere look. “Your pussy’s just so good it makes me want to pass out.” 

You snort, swatting him playfully and he giggles. “That’s terrible Blue.”

“I know Honey, I know.”

Thank you for reading!

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[flmer]

OH NO! IT'S THE BABY APOCALYPSE!

character/s. riddle, leona, azul, & vil.

cw. baby poop.

includes. gn!reader + fluff!

note. next will be idia, malleus, kalim, and jamil hehe also ooc? idk but I got my taglist open! if you wanna be tagged please put a comment/reply on my pinned post and which character you only wanna be tagged for!

riddle.

I imagine riddle being scared of parenthood but also confused because he didn't exactly have the best experiences as a child so he's clueless on how to treat the child and that's what scares him.

he's afraid of accidentally hurting the baby that's why he always looks hesitant whenever you ask him to hold the baby but all his nervousness wipes away when he sees eyes similar to his own- staring with sparkling eyes at him and he just melts.

you wake up sometimes in the middle of the night to the sound of humming coming from riddle and you always see him cradling the baby close to his chest as he gently rocks them back to sleep with a gentle relaxed look on his eyes and a soft smile on his face as he looks at the baby with warmth swirling on his grey orbs.

whenever riddle has some free time he always makes sure that you relax and he'll be the one taking care of the baby while you rest, after all he can't have his rose to get burnt out <3

“they're... ” he couldn't continue his words because of the tears that quickly came out from his eyes as he held the baby close to his chest as he smiled down at them “hello there my little rose petal...”

leona.

leona is the type of dad who sleeps everywhere and he's always seen cuddling his child on his chest while both of them. he always has his arms wrapped around his child protectively because to him it feels like he might lose them. (he does this to you too and you're glad you aren't the only one suffering his sweet gesture of choking you to death/exaggerating)

even if he isn't the king he still has his prince duties to do and he's often not physically present due to this but he always makes sure to make it up to both you and your child. he makes sure to call your child and you whenever he's travelling somewhere and when he finally arrives back home he always have tons of gifts to give to your child and of course for you too.

the moments that leona adores the most is whenever you and his child are safe in his arms with joyful smiles on both of your faces, it always makes him smile a little bit.

arguments are bound to happen but leona always makes sure to avoid making your child see the both of you arguing but whenever he knows he's in a bad mood he always takes a nap to avoid accidentally letting his anger out on you. there's also the playful argument that your child sees but it's mostly leona teasing you while you fume at him and he finds that hilarious. he also makes your child join in on the teasing and now you have two menaces in your life)

“awwe look at your momma, little beast. they're pouting again” - your menace husband leona

“momma why're you so mad? hehe we're only teasing ya!” -your menace of a child

azul.

azul loves to spoil his child i don't care what you say. this man will spoil his child just like how his mom did to him and it's honestly entertaining to watch because his child would be looking at something and the next thing you know your child has that exact thing on their chubby little hands.

despite azul's bad childhood and his experience with body shaming he actually doesn't mind it if his child is getting chubby, in fact he loves it! he loves his child's squishy chubby cheeks and their little soft tummy <3

despite azul letting his child eat to their own stomach's content he does know the limits and how unhealthy food or eating too much could affect his child that's why he always keeps an eye out for his child whenever Floyd and jade are hanging around. (jade have tried to feed azul's child mushrooms, i just know it.)

FAMILY OUTINGS!! this man is a businessman and that means he needs to hop from place to place because of his business and his only motivation to keep on working is you and your child. that's why he makes sure the both of you always come with him whenever he travels around! (one time his secretary convinced him to leave you and your child back at home because ‘both you and the child might need a break from the constant travelling’ so he left you both and when it strikes midnight he cried because he misses the baby wailing sounds that can always be heard at night and the feeling of you wrapped around his arms with the baby in the middle of you two.)

“Is it okay if you and our little pearl come to me? I've been missing the two of you...”

vil.

despite vil caring a lot about his beauty sleep he will always make sure to wake up to get a new bottle of milk for the baby or if they need changing he can always change their diapers! although the smell really disgusts him.. vil wouldn't mind sacrificing a few minutes of his beauty sleep if he gets to see his little pretty dardar's peaceful sleeping face that always manages to make him feel as if he's glowing. (yes pretty dardar is what he calls his child. dardar stands for darling)

vil wouldn't force his child to pursue acting or make his child into a model because vil doesn't want his child to grow up feeling trapped and forced. he wants his child to grow up happily without worrying about how society thinks of them.

vil's quality time with his child would consist of doing skincare and other self-care routines because he doesn't want his child to experience getting bullied because of their looks! he isn't saying that his child is ugly but no matter how beautiful you look on the inside people will always point out your flaws on the outside. his child most likely will grow up with the softest and clearest skin because of him

vil would take his child to work and he always keeps an eye out for his child because he knows how some workers here react to a baby and it's not really a positive reaction. he also posts both you and your child on his magicam whenever the three of you go out or just cuddle and watch movies that starr's vil and people often gets jealous of how domestic the three of you look.

Vil looks at the newborn baby on his arms with a blank look on his face and you started to grow nervous because of his reaction. does he not like how the baby looks? would he divorce you? would he- your thoughts went to an abrupt stop when vil started sobbing as he gently caressed the baby's face while cooing sweet things to his child “oh my, aren't you the prettiest little darling I've ever laid my eyes on? I wouldn't mind losing the most beautiful title to you, my little dardar.”

[itsstrange]

Karl Urban/Reader

Reader and Karl are friends. Like each but dont say. Live about 6 houses away from each other with her shitty ex in-between. Reader goes to ex house walks in on him cheating. (You decide what) Runs out and winds up at Karl's house. But not home at the moment. He comes home to find reader sitting on his porch.

He takes care of her. Maybe confess attraction to each other other . Fluff and smut and sweetness if all possible

**idea came from something that happen to a friend of mine . They had someone always there.

A/N: Another Request Delivered. I actually debated on writing this one because I wasn’t sure how other people would view me as. But just wanted to leave this out in the open, in case your friend is not comfortable or not happy with a story being written in regards to her past experiences and would like to be taken down I would gladly do so, not many people would want others to know what they’ve been through. So Again, feel free to lmk and I’ll right away take it down! ❤️

ANOTHER NOTE: Everything that has been written is NOT what actually happened in the real events, all of it was created by me! I did Not write anything that was related to the situation! In fact I have no idea what exactly happened, but I will again remove this story if the requester’s friend is not comfortable with it. Sincerely, ItsStrange ❤️

Treat You Better

Fandom: The Boys

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: (Yess-ish?) Toxic Relationship, Mention of Verbal Abuse, Arguments, a Little Bit of Physical Violence, Hurt Reader, Protective Karl, Confessions, Smut, Kissing, (You Know The Smut Tags)

Like in Mendes words: “I know I can Treat You Better, Better Than He Can,”

————

Enjoy! 🔥

————

——————

“Need another?” Russel’s deep voice startles you from where you’re focused was on your bandaged hand, fingers gently prodding at loose strands of strings,

Your bloodshot red eyes meet his light brown orbs, concern and a hint of anger we’re hidden behind, but no words of said feeling we’re displayed at you. Even if that’s all he wanted to do, let you know how he feels of the certain situation that you are currently in, let you know you are better off, that you deserve better and should have just dumped the fucker from the beginning, but he didn’t. Because from the years that he’s known you, he knows expressing his own feelings and opinions on the subject would not help, yes maybe the you deserve better would be appropriate to let you know, but the rest of what he has banging in his throat is not appropriate. Nor is it a humane thing to say, at least not right now.

Hell, the things he wanted to do to that son of a bitch for hurting you yet again were not humane. Just from your expression alone when you came strolling in his bar let him know something had happened, but when you finally told him everything as he bandaged your bloody hand, pure rage was igniting inside of him. Especially at the condition of your hand, it hand bruises already forming, split knuckles with dried blood smeared throughout your skin. If it wasn’t from the explanation you had told him he would have thought you had just came back from a brawl.

So from what you had told him, you were just coming back from the studio, your first album after two years of taking a mental break was finally coming out which you couldn’t be more excited. Everything you’ve been through, all the losses you’ve had the last couple years, the struggles you were going through were being put into your new album, and you couldn’t wait to share it to the world, to let your fans know it’s okay to feel low because at some point you find that strength to rise up once again.

Yet, despite of your excitement about your upcoming project, there was always that dark cloud hovering in the back of your mind, reminding you of reality, of what waits at home for you. The first couple of months that you had given him a second chance were great, they were amazing, perfect even, but it was the last two months we’re everything started to fall back into old habits. The constant arguments of the smallest things, the jealousy between you two was stronger than before, the cruel words that were exchanged on a daily bases were just insane. You two were not working, again, and you weren’t happy, but for some reason you just couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t call it, you couldn’t decide if you should end it or give it more time to see if he’d fucking change some how. But he never did.

And it was tonight that proved to you he will never change.

It had been a long day at the studio. All your frustrations and stress were put into the studio, into your music that you hadn’t realize it was nearing one in the morning. Not only did you also realize you were completely drained, both physically and mentally, but you also noticed it was passed your limit to keep the room, so after saving everything, packing everything up, you bid your farewells to your team before following Tim, your bodyguard, to the suv to drive you home. You honestly didn’t want to go home, knowing what waited for you, pure disappointment and a pointless awaiting argument. Just the thought of him waiting in the entrance of your shared home, probably drunk off his ass made a headache form. You wouldn’t doubt it, he had been blowing up your phone since you left that morning in hopes to stay away from him. And Lordy did that bring ridiculous accusations from the idiot. Claiming he knew why you left the house so early on a Sunday morning just like you have been the last couple of months, which you couldn’t help let a scoff out before ignoring the rest of his stupidity messages.

You could have easily told Tim to take you to a hotel, but you honestly didn’t want to rise suspicions from him, nobody knew of your on again off again struggles with your toxic boyfriend, not even your own family, because you knew what they’d say. So, to prevent any words that you don’t want to hear you hid your toxicity relationship from them and only displayed a fake happy couple for family gatherings or public appearances. Because you honestly don’t think you’ll be able to deal with all the prying questions from people left and right. So hidden it stays.

After hours of driving in comfortable, peaceful silence, something you knew you wouldn’t have for the remainder of the night, you finally arrive at your house. Thanking Tim and relieving him for the night to catch some sleep as well, you slowly make your way towards the black wooden door. You noticed how all the lights have been turned off, which is a rare thing to see when the lowlife is home alone and drunk. It was even more rare when everything seemed quiet as soon as you stepped inside, maybe he left to drink with his moron friends, you remember thinking to yourself as you shut the door. But the silence that engulfed the entire home was soon cut short with a muffled moan coming from upstairs. You remembered the way your body froze at the sound, both at the fact that it was not a pained moan nor was it a man’s moan, no that sounded way too pitched to be a man’s moan.

The event played clearly in your head. Heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling from the rage that was quickly rising in your veins as you slowly walked up the stairs, feeling the way your hairs from your arms rise when the muffled grunts and moans sounded much clearer as you stood on the second floor. Breath picking up its pace as the rage only seems to grow when you made your way to the white door that was slightly ajar. You believe you’ll always remember the way your veins boiled with rage at the sight in front of you.

The familiar tattooed back facing your direction was clearly oblivious to your presence by the door as the asshole was too busy making the female underneath him cry out of pure pleasure. Your hands shook by your sides, slowly forming into a tight fist, however, it wasn’t until Bryan, that piece of shit had leaned his head back that caught his attention to the mirror, recognizing who you were he immediately turned to look at you but was sent falling back against the bed, crushing the girl. Pain traveled up your wrist, but you didn’t care, not with the rage blinding you, the moment he went back against the cushion you finally let your bottled up emotions on the man. Sending blow after blow, some connected with his face while others missed just passed his head.

‘Y/n stop!’ You remember him pleading to you but was cut off with another strong blow to his jaw, that literally sends him off the bed and onto the ground with a groan,

The moment he touched the wooden floor, you bolted out the room without another word. Not even when he pathetically calls after you, scrambling on his feet gathering whatever clothing he can get as he tries to reach you, but just as he steps outside the door you were already in your car driving away.

Hot tears slid down your face, both from hurt and rage, all you saw was red. The things that you wanted to do, the pain you wanted to inflict on him, your mind raced as you blindly drove down the street.

It wasn’t until you had reached a red light where you realized the one person you truly wanted to cry to was not an option right now, Bryan knew that’s where you’d run off to, so in order for that not to happen you knew you needed to be somewhere far away where he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Which leads you back here, sitting at Russel’s bar, with a possible broken hand. Your old man’s best friend, or as you like tell everyone to know, your uncle Russ, was your second choice to hide away for a couple minutes, maybe an hour or two. You honestly don’t know how long it has been but from the empty glasses of shots in front of you, you know it’s been at least passed an hour.

“Kid?”

Russel speaks out again, grabbing your attention once again. Your (E/c) eyes meet with his own, brows tightly knitted as he observes you with that familiar dad stare. Shit.. what did he ask me again? Oh right..

“Yeah.. I’ll take one for the road,”

The older man eyes you for a second, watching the way your mind wonders once again as you look down at your empty glass, but goes ahead and reaches for the Jameson bottle that you’ve adopted since you arrived at his bar.

“Where you headin?” Russel asks as he pours another pour for you, hoping you weren’t going back to that nightmare of a man,

Cradling the glass in between your hands, numbs playing with the rim of it, you think of his words. You knew where you were going, but didn’t know if it was safe to go, considering his house was only a few blocks down from your shared home with that son of bitch. Then again, it has been an hour or so since you’ve left and the constant messages you’ve received from him only shows he has no idea where you are. Thank god you never introduced him to your families bar, a decision you had made a while back after your first breakup, he knew where your mother lived, knew where your siblings lived, knew where your close friends lived, so you knew you had to have one spot to hide away from him, and Russel’s bar was the place.

Russel never took it to heart on why you never brought him over, in fact he rather not have him anywhere near his bar, he never did like him from the start, which you never took it personal because you couldn’t blame him. Jesus.. you knew why Russel never accepted him and yet you still decided to be with that piece of shit, and for what? You don’t even know why and that alone brings a soft snort from you, catching the bar owners attention.

“You should wait up, let the Jameson cool down,” Russel claims, picking up the shots in front of you and placing them in the basket to wash later,

Your eyes lift from your now empty glass, which… you apparently had drank, and look at the man who takes the glass from your hands before replacing it with a large glass of water.

“Drink and sober up,” He demands, knowing you weren’t exactly on the right mental state to be driving with alcohol in your system,

Even if he knew you were able to hold your alcohol pretty well, he still didn’t want to risk your life, neither one of your family members would ever forgive him if he’d ever let anything happen to you under his watch.

After chugging the large glass of water, eating some salted cashews and watching a rerun of some football game for a good 30 minutes or so, you begin to climb off your stool. Just as you reach in your pocket for some change you feel a cashew hitting you directly on your forehead causing you to flinch.

“That better be you fishing out your car keys and not money,” He points at you with a long finger,

“Russ-,” You try but was cut off,

“Don’t Russ me. Go. Go to your mom’s and rest up kiddo, and when mornin comes, you better give her the whole story so she can personally kick his ass,” You roll your eyes with a short chuckle as you steal another cashew from the bowl to throw it at him,

“Alright, G’night Uncle Russ,”

“Night kiddo, get there safely,” He pleads as he walks around the bar to give you a tight hug before walking you out the building,

You wave at him before making your way to your car, where you sit in the drivers side for five minutes, debating whether you should just drive to mothers home instead of his, it was pretty late nearing three in the morning, but if you were being completely honest you didn’t need anyone else other than him right now. It was him you needed, his soothing words, his warmth, his comfort, him.

You just hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with you for dragging your problems to him so late at night.

++++

As you rounded the familiar street, you turned off your headlights just in case Bryan was still awake, despite him staying six houses down, knowing him he’d still know it’d be you pulling into the street. So after turning the lights off, you pull into his driveway where you notice his 2018 black Hellcat sitting there, indicating he’s either home or he took the Mustang for the night. Your thoughts are answered when you went to knock on his door only to receive no answer after the fifth knock.

So with an exhausted sigh, you go ahead and sit on his front steps. At this point you should have just went to your mothers house, at least there you had keys where you can easily walk in instead of waiting on the front steps like a loser. Which speaking of, the longer you sat on the steps and each yawn that escaped from you only pulled on your exhaustion even more. Making you realize just how tired you were, both physically and mentally, all you wanted was sleep. Sleep until the night vanished, until you weren’t in this moment, sleep until you wake up feeling happy for yourself again instead of feeling such pain and frustration. It’s all you wanted at the moment.

However, before you can actually allow yourself to fall asleep on his steps like a total loser, you hear the familiar roar of an engine driving down the street, then bright headlights blinding you for a second before coming to a stop right next to your rs7. Lowering your head down to rub away the spots from your vision, you hear the engine shutting off right before hearing the drivers door opening and closing.

Than that beautiful deep rich accent filling your ears.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out your name, causing you to look up at him, a small smile tugging on your lip as you bring down your face again, slightly avoiding his gaze for now,

“Where are the boys?” You ask, starting small talk as you pick on dead skin on your thumb,

“With their mum. Just came back from the pub,” He responds as he slowly walks closer towards you, what you didn’t see was the way his brows were tightly knitted together as he observed your hunched frame on his steps,

They only knit tighter and his worry only grew when you respond with a small nod, along with a whispered ‘nice’ as you continue to look down at your lap, avoiding him. However, just as he’s within reach he notices the dried tear stains on your cheeks, but what really makes his blood boil was the way your right hand was bandaged up, starting from your wrist to your knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he crouches in front of you, getting a slightly better view of your face. Although, as you continued to avoid his gaze, he softly places a finger underneath your chin before gently lifting your face, where your red eyes finally meet with angry hazel orbs.

“Where is he?” Is all he says, hazel eyes never parting from yours,

Dropping your gaze from his, you slowly shake your head as best you can in his grip, “I don’t know,”

Of course you’d lie. And of course he knew because without another word he grips his keys in his hand before rising and darting back towards his driveway.

“Karl stop,” You call out to him, slowly walking after him,

“Gonna kill that cunt,” You hear him snarl over his shoulder, but before he can reach his lawn your small hand wrapping around his forearm stops him from going further,

“Stop,” You tell him, hand still holding onto his arm with a loose grip,

“That fuckin’ cunt crossed it,” He claims, voice laced with sharp venom, hazel eyes shining with rage instead of his warm, welcoming orbs,

“I know. But he’s not worth getting in trouble for,” Your own eyes held a firm look as you gazed up at his angered orbs, then, with an exhausted sigh you close your eyes, “Can we just..,” Another sigh, “Can we please just go inside,”

Karl’s anger and frown slowly fades away as he reads the exhaustion on your face. Just how long were you sitting out here for? Why didn’t you give him a call? He asks himself, but rather than prying you with such questions he simply nods at you before letting you lead him up the stairs. After fishing out his keys, opening the door he lets you walk in first before following right behind. Once shutting and locking the door, he makes his way to the living room, where you quietly stood by the entrance. Just lost in thought or possibly replaying the nights event.

“Here, sit down,” He offers, gently walking you to the couch, “I’ll make coffee,”

You let out a soft chuckle as you sit down, eyes looking up at him, “It’s nearly four in the morning Karl,”

It was then you realized his form and outfit of the night. Hair slightly tousled, grey t-shirt, green leather jacket on top, faded jeans with some brown boots on his feet. He looked absolutely handsome, just like any other day.

A small smile tugs on his lips at the realization, “Tea then,” and with that he makes his way towards the kitchen,

Leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, fingers playing with dead skin on your thumbs while your mind drifts once again, thinking about it, about him, about how much time you’ve wasted on him. How much energy you’ve physically and mentally drained from yourself by simply being with him. Then realizing just how stupid you were for even considering on giving that piece of shit another chance, realizing just how much of a fucking joke you made yourself look. You sat there blaming yourself for all the shit you decided to go through, for having faith that he would change, for believing he’d actually love you and care for you.

But now look at you. Back to square one. You wouldn’t have been in this situation again if you hadn’t given him another chance. You wouldn’t be feeling like a fucking joke if you hadn’t given him the okay a few months ago, nor would you be sitting in Karl’s couch with dried tears and smeared makeup if you’d just told him no.

‘No you can’t come back, no this wouldn’t work, no we just aren’t meant for each other, no you are a fucking waste of time.’ If only those were the words you had told him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.

After about four to five minutes of brewing the tea, pouring a good amount into two mugs, and putting one spoon of honey into your navy mug (which of course he knows it’s the only way you’ll drink tea). He finally makes his way back to the living room, where he finds you sitting with your feet up on the couch, arms hugging your legs towards your chest, with your cheek resting on your knees. However, the sound of your soft sniffles has him reaching the couch in two long strides. Placing both mugs on the coffee table he settles right next to you before hugging your hunched frame, which you immediately hide your face in the crook of his neck.

The tears that rapidly slid down your cheeks weren’t from heartbreak, it was from anger, embarrassment, shame, and disappointment. Not from him, but from yourself. You were angry at the fact that he cheated on you again, angry at that fact that you trusted him again, angry at the fact that you were so stupid in giving him another chance. Embarrassed at the fact that he made you look like a fool again, embarrassed that the whole world will once again know he cheated on you, embarrassed that you are going through this shit again. Every emotion flowed through you, consumed you that all you can do is just let it out through rapid tears. Your hands gripping tightly onto Karl’s shirt as you try burying your face deeper into his neck, as if that’ll shield you from the total embarrassment that you are facing at the moment.

“I’m so fucking.. stupid!” You sob against his skin, hands clutching tighter onto his shirt,

Karl is quick to shush you with a shake of his head. Tightening his hold on you as he lets one hand sooth your back, awhile slightly rocking you both on the couch.

“Shh.. no you’re not,” He mumbles on the crown of your head,

“I n-never should’ve..-,” The words get stuck in your throat as another angered sob leaves your lips, “God.. I should’ve fucking known!”

“Shh,” He continues to soothe you, body slightly rocking you, hugging you tighter and closer towards his chest, “Just let it out love. Everything you feel right now, just let it out. I’m right ‘ere,”

And you do. You let the hot, angry tears slip down your cheeks, let the bottled up emotions fall past your lips, your broken, frustrated, angered sobs filling the quietness of his living room.

It wasn’t long when the tears had stopped falling down your cheeks, when you’ve calmed down and simply just laid your head on his chest as he laid back against the cushion. Hand cradling and gently massaging your head, soothing you and comforting you. Yet, his fingers come to a halt at your sudden words.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, fingers playing with his grey shirt, feeling guilty for burdening him with your situation, “M’sorry for.. bringing my shit to you,”

His brows knit together as he glances down at your head, “Don’t be,”

“I am,” You argue back, voice slightly quivering and breaking due to the crying session not that long ago, “If it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here. Bothering you.”

Karl stood quiet, weighing his words that he wants to tell you. That he’s been wanting to tell you, ever since your first breakup, he wanted to let you know but was never given the chance. Then before he knew it, it was too late, he had lost the opportunity to let you know but now, now he won’t let it slip. He was scared before, fearing it would ruin things between you two, he’d lose you for what he reveal to you and he couldn’t have that. He still doesn’t want that, but you have to know. No matter what happens, he just has to let you know.

“You’re right,” You hear him say, feeling the way your heart slightly shatters at his agreement, but before you can even begin to pull away from his hold his voice stops you from doing so, “You shouldn’t be going through this. You shouldn’t be runnin’ from home, shouldn’t be crying at my steps at the three in the mornin’… fuckin hell (Y/n)..,”

He curses with a frustrated wince as he slightly forces you to sit, forcing you to stare into his eyes as he continues, “You deserve more. You deserve the whole fuckin world, every happiness there is. You deserve to be treated like you should be treated. A goddamn queen,” His hazel orbs bore into yours, not once parting, not even with his next words,

He hesitates for a second, but pushing the fear down he finally says, “Any guy would be lucky to have you.. and believe me when I tell you… I’ll do anything to see you smile. I’d give everything to bring you nothing but happiness and love. I’ll Treat You Better. Because that’s what you deserve,”

You stare at him in shock, tears slowly building as you take in his words. Never in a million years did you think this man, your closest friend, a talented well-known actor who gets to travel the world for his work, gets to meet and have dinners with other well known actors and actresses—who by the way are some of your all time favorite people— would ever make such a deep confrontation to you. Who would share the same feelings you have been desperately trying to stow away for multiple reasons, fearing if you ever gave into said feelings you’d lose him forever, so you went ahead and kept those feelings to yourself and try to distract yourself by putting so much effort in trying to fix a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be mixed nor was it meant for you.

As tears slowly slide down your cheeks, you feel a warm hand resting on the side of your cheek, then a soft thumb gently brushing away a tear. Hazel eyes locking with your own, not once parting away.

“Let me love you like you deserve to be loved,” He whispers, thumb still wiping away fresh tears,

No words were said, just a simple nod from you was all he needed to finally let his lips latch onto yours. The kiss was soft but firm as you both poured your hidden emotions into it. Fresh new tears slid down your cheeks as you kissed him, relief is what they were. Relieved that you finally gave in to those feelings, relieved that he too shared those feelings and that alone caused the tears to come out as you cherished his warm lips.

The kiss soon picked up its pace when he gently prods your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, which you gladly accepted. The moment his tongue sweeps with your own, it has you melting against him like no other, has you forgetting about everything around you, forgetting about that asshole, the pain on your hand, everything. All your focus was on him and only him. The way his mouth collides perfectly with your own, the way his hands gently run along your hips, legs, towards your lower back before maneuvering you onto his lap.

“This okay?” He asks in between kisses, hands respectfully waiting on your hips,

“Yes, please,” You find yourself begging him, but he doesn’t tease you about it, nor does he laugh at your neediness because hell, he too was desperate for you,

Without another word he dives back to your lips, letting them collide much rougher and firmer. Letting your tongues battle with each other before allowing him to take control. A moan and a groan can be heard between you two when you slightly rock your hips on his lap, making you feel just how much he wants you at the moment. Yet, it was another firm rock of your hips that has him rising from the couch, strong arms holding you against him as he makes his way towards his bedroom. Once there he quickly walks towards his bed where he gently lays your frame against the cushion. He hovers over you, lips still connected with each other as he teases back with a thrust of his own hips, causing a small gasp to leave your lips when you feel the way his hardened member presses against your covered core.

He didn’t tease for long considering he’s waited for this very moment for as long as he can remember. Not wasting another second he slowly begins rising your shirt up your body and off your frame, tossing it to the side of the bed he lets his warm lips press feathery kisses along your skin, causing goosebumps to travel throughout your body with every kiss he placed on new piece of skin. You then feel the way his hand slips beneath you before feeling your bra loosen around your chest, then feeling the way he slowly removes it from you. Large hands cover your breast, emitting a low moan when he grips and massages them before allowing his mouth to wrap around one of your already hardened buds. A gasp once again escapes from you at the sensitive feeling.

Yet it soon fades when he averts his mouth from your breast to your lips, pecking them once, twice before letting you remove his own grey shirt from his frame. Your hands land gently against his toned chest, then letting them travel down his torso, watching the way his toned stomach flexes at your nails ghostly scraping against his skin. Your fingers land on his belt where they begin to undo it from its place. Once unbuckled, button and fly open, your eyes are locked on his when you slowly reach inside his pants, watching the way his lips turn to a firm line as a deep heavy sigh slips through his nose at your touch. Feeling the way his harden member slightly twitches when your rubs become firmer.

However, what emitted a broken grunt from the man hovering above you was when you let your fingers slip past his dark briefs to grip onto his thick heated shaft. A shuddered sigh escapes past his lips at the first tug you make, hazel eyes slightly disappearing behind those eyelids as he tries to keep his gaze on you with every stroke you give him. After the fourth tug he bends down to plant a kiss on your lips before pulling away from you to let his own hands undo your jeans. Once your shoes had been removed, your jeans were next, following your navy underwear, leaving you completely bare to him. You hear the way he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as he observes your naked frame, hands gently rubbing up and down your beautiful thighs.

“Ātaahua,” Karl whispers huskily under his breath, hazel eyes scanning your naked frame before locking them with your own,

Heat rises up your cheeks at the familiar word, yet before you can even decided on hiding from him he quickly bends down to peck your lips before rising once again to remove the remainder of his clothing. Now that his jeans and briefs were off him, leaving him bare to you, your eyes grow wide as you scan the rest of him.

Yeah you felt him a few seconds ago, knew he was thick from touch alone, but now, seeing it up close and personal you didn’t think he’d be that thick and.. big.

His member stood proudly in between his legs, pre-cum leaking beautifully and deliciously from his cherry tip. Veins visible underneath his shaft, looking like a fucking master piece and definitely causing your mouth to go dry from the sight alone.

“See something you like love?” He

responds above you, voice lower than usual, smirk proud on his lips as he stares down at you,

Speechless is what you we’re. No words were able to form nor spill out your mouth, so instead you glance up to meet his eyes, which were laced with lust as he towered over you. Even under the moon light shining brightly through his window, you can see just how much he craved you.

His smirk slowly fades away as he begins lowering himself where he latches his lips on yours once again. A soft moan vibrating through your lips as you feel the tip of his cock rubbing beautifully against your core, then a loud gasp filling the air between you two at the sudden feeling of firm fingers rubbing circles against that bundle of nerves. Causing your back to slightly rise off the bed with parted lips, which Karl immediately dives his warm tongue into your mouth, freely exploring your warmth.

“You are perfect,” He whispers against your lips, fingers still moving between your legs, collecting your wetness and spreading it along your mound before letting two fingers push past your folds,

Earning yet again another gasp and a moan from you. The feeling of his fingers slowly dragging in and out of your heated core has your eyes closing shut, breath picking its pace and grip on his shoulders tightening with every thrust of his hand. The moment he adds his thumb into the mix, it’s like a hurricane begins building at the pit of your stomach, your breath hitches in your throat when he speeds up his movements, your nails dig into his skin when the coil nears its end.

Once snapped, he didn’t even hesitate in pushing his aching member inside of you, nor did he warn you as he begins moving his hips into you. The feeling of his thickness stretching your walls with each pull he’d make only electrified your orgasm, nearly knocking the air from your lungs from how strong it had hit you.

“Fuck,” Karl groans at the sight of you; eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open with breathless moans slipping past those raw lips of yours, completely melting under his hold,

Something he hoped to see one day. And here you are, all for him and only him.

Once he had eased up with the slow thrust of his hips, letting you calm down and catch a breather for a few seconds, you signal him to keep going with a small nod which he complies with a much firmer thrust, earning a breathless gasp from you again.

“Aroha ahau ki a koe,” You hear him whisper breathlessly in your ear over and over with each thrust he sends you,

Causing the same tears of joy, relief, and love to slip down your cheeks from the amount of emotions your were feeling at the moment. The feeling of your second orgasm approaching quicker than you thought, the way those words repeated in your ear every so often, reminding you and showing you just how much he meant his feelings towards you. Showed you just how much he’s longed for you, with everything combining into one the emotions become too much that you couldn’t help the tears to slip out.

One hand gripping onto the back of his dark locks, you gently but firmly tug on his hair, just enough to slot your lips with his. Allowing them to mold into one once again. Breathless pants were shared between you too as you both neared your peak, which didn’t take long. With one slight maneuver from Karl, the new position gave him the opportunity to plumage his member deliciously against that spot, causing you to once again melt under his hold. Nails digging painfully but beautifully against his skin, leaving red marks along his broad back as he continues with his thrusts.

“Aroha ana ahau ki a koe,” Was all you needed to whisper back for Karl to reach the end of the line,

With a loud, choked groan, he slams his hips into you one last time before feeling his own orgasm overpowering him. Sending him in a blissful state. Strong arms shook before him as they prevented him from crushing you, breath coming out in quick choked puffs through his nose as he rode it off, grunts rumbling in his throat every so often until he’s calm down.

Slowly and gently, he guides himself out of you, earning a faint whimper to vibrate in your throat at the empty feeling then a chilled feeling to rush through your entire body when you feel the way his seed drips down your raw core.

After a second or two of gathering your breath and coming down from your high, you open your eyes only to see his own closed shut. Hands still plastered on the bed on either side of your head to keep him upright you watch him as he takes in deep steady breaths through his nose before exhaling. A short smile tugs on your lips as you watch him, observing the way his hair slightly falls down his face, sweat glistening beautifully against his skin, making him look absolute stunning. Even under the dim light.

With no words, you let your left hand reach up, letting your fingers run through his dark beard until they reach his slightly damped locks. The gentle massages that your fingers apply against his scalp has those hazel eyes of his to finally be on display. They held sweet love in them the longer they lingered on yours, then watch as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lip before letting one hand cradle your cheek, thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

Still smiling down at you with hazel orbs locked with your own he whispers, “Toku ao,”

Your brows slightly furrow at the unknown word, but a smile still tugged on the corner of your lips, “I don’t know that one,”

A faint chuckle fans your face. Hazel eyes not once leaving yours as he speaks once again, which not only widens your smile but also has your heart erupting from pure warmth and happiness with his next words.

“You’re my world,” Those beautiful hazel eyes of his that crinkle at the sides stare at you with so much love and light,

Bending down he closes the gap between you two, placing two long pecks on your lips before maneuvering himself to lay on his side where you are quick to cuddle right next to him. Your head on his chest, arm across his abdomen with one leg draped over his. You both stood awake for another ten minutes or so just talking about anything and everything, from sharing when exactly you both had realized one’s feelings to how was work to random topics really before finally falling asleep.

The way Karl would gently draw invisible shapes on your shoulder blades had you drifting away in matter of seconds, and the way your steady breathing would invade his ears Karl followed soon after. Leaving you both in a peaceful sleep while still holding onto each other.

Not once letting go, even when you both had moved during your sleep, neither one had slipped up. Karl knew this because around somewhere in the afternoon, his eyelids slowly open, the back of your head being his view. Hair surprisingly looking nicely combed and beautiful even through the night it had been through.

The thought of going back to sleep to get some more rest laid heavily behind his eyelids, but just as sleep would overtake him again the sound of banging on the door has him lifting his head from the pillows. Brows tightly furrowed as he wondered who can possibly be knocking at his door. Another rough bang against his door has him averting his eyes to your still sleeping frame, completely unaware of the intruding noise, showing him just how exhausted you must’ve been.

So with slow and careful moments he’s untangling himself from your hold before slowly climbing out of bed. Grabbing his briefs from the floor and slipping on some black sweats he quietly makes his way towards the door, where someone was determined in knocking down his door with those brutal knocks.

The moment he swings the door open and realizes who’s behind it, his face instantly changes from annoyance to anger. Standing outside his home with a dark grimace on their face was your ex. From what Karl can tell he hadn’t slept all night.

“Where is she?” He demands, hands quickly forming into fists at his sides,

“The fuckin’ nerve you’ve got comin’ here,” Karl snarls back, one hand gripping onto the door handle as the rage slowly boils in his veins,

“Where is she Urban?” The man tries again, taking a step forward as if to intimidate him, but what he didn’t know was with each step he took was only getting him closer to his own grave,

Karl scoffs, removing his hand from the doorknob to face him directly, “Not at your house that’s for sure,”

It was at that moment he’d realized where exactly you’d be. After taking in his appearance; no shirt, just sweats, hair completely a mess, all signs were clearly visible.

“You piece of shit,” He goes again taking another step but Karl took one step forward, stopping him in his tracks as he over towers him,

Hazel eyes looking directly at those slightly frightened blues of his.

“You never deserved her mate,” Karl claims, eyes turning firmer as he continues with, “Now how ‘bout you leg it, before I make you swallow your own fuckin’ teeth,”

The threat made a cold shiver run down Bryan’s back. He still displayed a firm look, hands balled into fists at his sides, but both men knew it was all a cover. Bryan truly didn’t know Karl and but he knew at that moment, this man would risk his entire career for you. Which not only frightened him but also worried him on the lengths he was willing to go for you.

So, with a weak attempt of displaying a tough look, he holds his glare until he turns around to walk away from the man’s front lawn. Karl watches him walk back to his car then watches him burn rubber like total asshole before finally walking back inside, realizing just how much rage was riding in his veins. His hands shook from the amount of anger he had and from the tight grip he kept to prevent him from lashing out, but with a deep inhale though his nose he makes his way back to his room.

Where you remained asleep.

Slowly and carefully to not wake you up, he climbs back into bed. The moment he settles on his side, you turn in your sleep, facing him directly, his grey sheets slightly slipping off your shoulder, revealing that beautiful skin of yours, revealing your gorgeous face.

Just by looking at you did it subside the anger he had. The effect that you had on him. It was also at that moment he realized just how madly in love he was with you, how he’ll do anything for you, protect you, love you, give you anything and everything in the world just to have that beautiful smile of yours on your face at all times. He promised himself and you, that last night will be the last night you cry in front of him, it will be the last time someone hurts you, he promised you he’ll always be there, your very own shinning armor protecting and guarding you till his very last breath.

He knew he wanted you in his life for the rest of his life, but he didn’t know he meant it the other way until the words softly slipped from his mouth, a part of him freaked at the sudden realization, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes just how truthful and right the words felt in his chest. He repeated it again in his head then as he brought his warm hazel eyes to your sleeping form, he lets them fall again as a promise.

“Ka marena ahau ki a koe,”

I’m going to marry you.

—————

-Went overboard with this one so… hope y’all liked it!

-Also if it feels rushed towards the end I sincerely apologize I was desperate to just finish this one and give it to y’all already.

-Another thing, I definitely do not speak Māori. So if anyone speaks it out there I deeply apologize if it’s not the right wording 😬😬

- Another, @butchers-girl hope it came out the way you requested, Ik you were constantly asking me how it was going and I appreciated it and I’m sorry I had you waiting this long but.. was definitely taking my time with this one to make it better. So again. Hope you liked this one and can’t wait to publish the rest of your requests! 🫶❤️❤️

- Lastly, MERRY CHRISTMAS PEEPS. LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. ✨❤️

-Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For More Updates!!

————

Word Bank:

Ātaahua: Beautiful.

Aroha ahau ki a koe: I love you.

Aroha ana ahau ki a koe: I love you too.

Toku ao: My World.

Ka marena ahau ki a koe: I’m going to marry you.

[miguelswifey04]

miguel o’hara as your sugar daddy

remember these are headcanons

he will spoil your rotten and i mean it…he will lavish you with gifts like gucci handbags, prada, YSL, oh em gee designer clothes, and even buy you a vacation home for you since you love vacationing !!

you want a car? he get it for you!! that man denies being in love with you but he is whipped for you. god he would buy you that car you wanted as a little kid and have it sent to your home the SAME DAY!!

he will kiss the ground you walk on…at first you and him would get into petty arguments but as time went on he got used to your personality and antics. he shuts you up when he gives you cash in hand 😭. “go by yourself something nice and cool off.”

whenever you come over to his penthouse he always cooks for you!!! he won’t ever let you touch a damn thing in his kitchen..he will get whatever you want at the palm of your hands. he’s actually a really good cook and you love his bomb ass food. he loves when you critique his food as he eyes you down as you take a bite of his deliciousness. improves whenever you give him constructive feedback.

he is not your typical sugar daddy!! he respects you 100% (bare minimum i know but it’s rare these days) he won’t push you to do anything that you don’t want to do. he’s content with just showering you with affection and money without you giving him anything in return. like yeah he loves it when you guys are intimate but he never pushes it. you wonder how you got so lucky with him!

people would ask if you two were a couple just because of how close you were with him. the relationship is complicated because you guys don’t put a label to it. but nonetheless miguel has a soft spot for you and genuinely cares. “how is my baby doing today?” just asking how your day went and how you’re holding up.

a big advocate for mental health…like besides being your sugar daddy he’s a huge advocate for mental health!! (i feel like he would tbh ONLY if he would actually heal his past traumas 😭)

if you’re a broke college student he would pay for your intuition and WIPE YOUR STUDENT DEBT FREE!! he will literally support your ambitions, goals, journey of whatever it may be in your life!! he will be there to support you if you don’t have anyone else in your life to support you!

he loves taking you on dates wherever he takes you around the world with him. he loves your companionship and you being by his side whether he’s on business trips or on vacation. you are his utmost attention.

…

my god miguel as a sugar daddy has me in a chokehold 😭🙏🏽 also if you guys wanna do your own spin on this, PLS DO IT!! js tag & credit me :)

[eveomo]

bounties and blessings - arthur morgan x f!reader

chapter 2 (SFW)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ synopsis : after meeting a seemingly dangerous yet kind outlaw during a bounty, your world seems to get turned upside down after you can't seem to stop running into each other. could this be the beginning of something you've both been longing for?

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ warnings/tags : MINORS MAY INTERACT WITH SFW CHAPTERS (NSFW WILL BE TAGGED), depictions of violence, arguments, angst, eventual smut, unprotected piv sex, guns, gun violence, swearing, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, soft arthur, animal death, PTSD, mentions/depictions of abuse, attempted SA (very brief and for plot purposes only), NO PREGNANCY, NO BABIES, MC isnt a frail weak girl who constantly needs saving, often grammatically incorrect (probably)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ contains : arthur morgan x f!reader, no use of y/n, reader changes the plot for the better

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ wc : 2.3k

About a week after your first encounter with the outlaw, you decided to make your way into Valentine, intent on picking up a few provisions from the general store—namely, coffee—while also taking the opportunity to visit the sheriff’s office in search of a new bounty. The weather stood in sharp contrast to your previous visit, with the sky darkening under the weight of the swelling clouds and a menacing raincloud casting a shadow over the landscape. Mud squelched under the hooves of your Arabian, the damp atmosphere wetting the earth below. 

Arriving in Valentine, a palpable sense of tension hovers in the air. You briskly hitch your horse, your eyes flicking around the street as you advance towards the general store. Your hat is lowered to obscure your eyes, and your dominant hand hovers over the holster at your hip, prepared for any confrontations. As you push open the door to the general store, you give a curt nod to the clerk and begin to browse the shelves. You quickly gather coffee, canned peaches, a pack of premium cigarettes, and, of course, apples for Lenora. As the clerk mutters the total, you barely register it, sliding the required amount onto the counter before turning and departing without a goodbye, your heart beating in your throat.

‘Why am I so anxious?’ you think to yourself, promptly deciding to seek refuge in the saloon for a drink or two to steady your nerves. It’s raining now, soaking your coat and sending an icy chill through your bones. You yearn for a drink to warm your insides and chase away the cold. Lost in thought, you suddenly notice a crowd gathering around the saloon. Intrigued, you quicken your steps to discover the cause of the excitement.

“Come on, pretty boy…” 

“Pretty boy? You’re kiddin’ me. Pretty boy?”

Ah. There he is again. Arthur. You weave your way through the crowd, keeping you hat pulled low to ensure your face remains concealed. A sharp intake of breath accompanies the sight of Arthur’s fist colliding with the larger man’s face—a solid, resounding blow. Watching in amusement, you hear multiple men cheering him on, seemingly from all directions. What once appeared to be a lone bounty hunter now seemingly revealed himself as a gang member, and a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

Your dominant hand instinctively drifts toward your holster, fingers hovering as the larger man grabs Arthur by the neck and slams him to the ground. He quickly pins him, pressing his neck down and holding an iron grip on his arm, dwarfing Arthur’s frame beneath his bulk. However, before he could land a single punch on Arthurs face, he breaks free using his free hand to swing a right hook into the bigger man’s jaw, the sickening crunch echoing through the street as the larger man crumples to the ground. You wince involuntarily, your hand brushing your own jaw as if soothing an imaginary pain.

A voice called out to Arthur, yelling “Put his face in the mud!”, and boy did he ever. You watch with a raised brow as he pins the man, his left hand tightening around the man’s throat as he rains down punches. For a moment, you consider stopping him, but the thrill of the flying blood and teeth is paramount. The man cries out in pain, a pool of blood collecting around his head as it pours from his many lacerations. Thankfully for him, a man runs up and grabs Arthurs arm, preventing him from throwing another punch.

"Stop! Stop! Please!" the man pleaded desperately, his voice cracking as he searched Arthur's eyes for a shred of mercy.

"Come now, sir, you've won the fight—surely that's enough?" His hands were raised defensively, as if to protect himself if Arthur decided he was next.

"What business is it of yours?" Arthur snarled, releasing the man, watching as he fell to the ground. With a dismissive shove, Arthur limped past him, making his way toward a storefront. The crowd, sensing the confrontation was over, quickly dispersed. You casually sauntered over to where Arthur had paused, leaning beside a nearby barrel as you struck a match to light your cigarette.

Sucking your teeth, you thought about how fortunate you were that your previous encounter with the outlaw had ended smoothly. Before Arthur could notice you, a man in a suit and top hat called out, his cheerful voice grating on your ears.

"Making new friends again, I see, Arthur." The man’s overly chipper tone made your ears ache. Arthur froze as the top-hatted man approached, accompanied by someone far better dressed. The newcomer's attire caught your eye, and after a moment's observation, you decided you didn't trust him. His thick, well-groomed mustache and surprisingly clean suit stood in stark contrast to the rougher looking men around him—definitely a gang member, but one who knew how to keep up appearances. 'Never judge a book by its cover,' you thought to yourself, taking another long drag of your cigarette.

"Look who we found sniffing about," the mustached man chuckled, gesturing toward the other man. He dipped into a bow as Arthur spoke his name, his southern drawl sending a shiver down your spine.

"Josiah Trelawny," Arthur said with a hint of amusement. "Well, well... I thought you'd gone to New York." Arthur finally straightened up, his hunched stance making your back ache just looking at it.

"And miss all this glamour?" Trelawny replied, eliciting a quiet chuckle from you. You flicked the butt of your cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with the toe of your boot as you struck another match to light a fresh one. Taking a long drag, you watched as Arthur approached the two men. The man you didn’t trust exuded charisma, making it clear he was likely the leader of their gang (if they're even in one). Arthur was undoubtedly some sort of right-hand man, and Trelawny, with his sly demeanor, must be their informant.

You turned your gaze away as they spoke in hushed tones, wrinkling your nose at the pungent smell of sheep shit that permeated the air, made worse by the rain. Your interest piqued as you caught sight of three more men approaching out of the corner of your eye. Trelawny was the first to speak.

"Ah, Javier and Charles. I've missed you... and Bill, looking well as can be." It quickly became clear to you that this was indeed a gang. You began to reconsider your impulsive decision to try and approach Arthur when the conversation was over, wondering if the risk was worth it. But against your better judgment, you stayed, lighting your third cigarette and watching as Arthur soothed his sore jaw, the men continuing their conversation.

The discussion soon ended, and the leader of the group told Arthur to go wash up. 'Perfect,' you thought as he made his way toward the barrel you were leaning beside. He didn’t even acknowledge you as he leaned over it, splashing his face with water to rinse away the dried blood and mud caked on his rugged features.

"Thought you were gonna lose for a second there, Arthur," you said, pushing off the wall with your foot and stubbing out your cigarette. The moment his name left your lips, he looked up, water dripping down his face.

"Gotta say, I prefer this look to the bandana or muddy face," you continued, hooking your thumbs into your belt as the slow recognition of who you were dawned on him.

"You again," he muttered, a dumbfounded expression crossing his face. You winked at him and gestured toward the saloon.

"Drinks? Or is it too soon for you to head back in there?" A small smirk appeared on his face before he nodded in agreement.

-

You and Arthur approached the bar, and you tossed two quarters onto the counter, requesting whiskey. The bartender quickly poured two glasses, condensation beading on the sides.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," Arthur said, studying you over the rim of his glass. He seemed intent on memorizing every detail of your face, for reasons even he didn’t fully understand—your eyes, your lips, the small moles on your skin.

"Hoped I wouldn’t," you joked, taking a sip of your whiskey. You raised an eyebrow as he continued to study you, causing him to quickly avert his gaze. "Were you hopin' you would?"

"Nah," he replied flatly, downing his glass and flicking another coin onto the counter. He scratched his stubble as he watched the bartender refill his glass with amber liquid.

"What brings you to Valentine?" you asked, pushing another coin toward the bartender as he refilled your glass as well. Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look at you.

"Could ask you the same. I’m just workin'," he said, pushing more coins toward the bartender. "Shots."

"Didn’t know bein' in a gang counted as employment," you mumbled under your breath, lifting your glass to your lips. Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking his shot and sliding the second small glass toward you.

"Now who said anythin' about gangs?" he questioned, wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve before taking his second shot. You took yours and chased it with more whiskey, the alcohol creating a much-needed warmth inside your body.

"I’m not dumb. An outlaw shows up in town, chats with his posse after beatin' a man into the ground—pretty obvious. Lucky for you, most people 'round here lack the intelligence to connect those dots." Arthur glanced around the room, taking a sip of his drink before responding.

"Fair enough. You never did say why you’re here, though," he remarked, a smile creeping onto your face. For a moment, you considered fabricating some grand tale about who you were and what you did. But instead, you opted for the truth.

"Bounties."

"All by yourself?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

You paused, inhaling as if to answer, but then you pursed your lips and took a shot instead. Not even liquid courage could make you tell him the truth. He may be an outlaw, but your story was a heavy one—too heavy, something that had driven away person after person, leaving you alone time and again. So you lied.

"Prefer it that way." Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you ordered another round of shots as the world began to feel fuzzy. Arthur raised an eyebrow but pushed a coin onto the counter before your inebriated self could get the chance. You didn’t protest, instead downing your two shots back-to-back, watching as he did the same.

"Why are you in a gang?" you asked, turning the uncomfortable questioning back on him. He leaned back slightly, glancing at you before turning his gaze to the bar counter.

"Mama died and Daddy got hung. Didn’t have no other choice, really," he replied coolly, placing his hat back on his head—a clear signal that he was ready to leave.

"How long will y’all be around?" you inquired, but Arthur just shrugged, standing up and heading for the swinging saloon doors.

"See you around then, Arthur," you called after him.

He nodded once before stepping outside, the doors swinging back and forth as if beckoning you to follow. Instead, you slid more coins across the counter, requesting a room for the night. The bartender pointed you in the right direction, and you stumbled your way upstairs, collapsing onto the hard mattress that felt like a cloud in your intoxicated state.

Lying there, you couldn’t stop thinking about Arthur—his piercing blue eyes, the scar on his chin, the strength in his hands, the way he scratched his stubbled cheeks when deep in thought. Damn. How had you found yourself sweet on a man you’d only met twice?

-

Arthur Morgan found himself the target of lighthearted jabs around the campfire that evening. The teasing started innocently enough—John, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, asked Arthur if he'd had a "romantic rendezvous" in town. Soon after, the others chimed in, with Javier playfully raising an eyebrow and claiming that Arthur must have found himself a "lady friend." Even Dutch, usually more reserved, joined in with a chuckle, suggesting Arthur might be going soft. Arthur, grumbling under his breath, shot them all a look that could cut through steel, but the good-natured prodding continued. Despite his attempts to brush it off, the image of you lingered in his mind, you sharp wit and piercing gaze far from forgettable. The more the gang teased, the more he found himself both irritated and amused, though he’d never admit to the latter.

"So, did you get lucky, amigo?" Javier asked, draping an arm over Arthur’s shoulder, the strong scent of alcohol on his breath mingling with the night air. Arthur chuckled, scooping another spoonful of stew into his mouth.

"Nah. Just talked," Arthur replied, trying to push thoughts of you from his mind. "How’d y’all even know?" He could already picture it—Javier, Charles, and Bill huddled near the gate, watching him converse with you.

"Bill spotted you on his way back to camp," Charles chimed in. "But hey, if you won’t take the plunge, we might," he added with a wink and a hearty laugh.

Arthur rolled his eyes, rising from his seat and heading towards his tent, ignoring the chorus of cheers and crude noises the trio made as he settled onto his bedroll. Once inside, he retrieved his journal from his satchel and began sketching you. He started with your hair, the way it fell over your shoulders, then moved to your hat, the brim that shielded him from your gaze, and finally, your lips.

When he finished, he tucked the journal away and snuffed out the cigarette he had been nursing during his sketch. Resting his head on his hands, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep, already anticipating your next fateful encounter.

finally out after 3 months sooooorry.... u can probably expect same timeframe for future chapters bc my life is hell right now ^_^

i added some dialogue from the actual game which was fun will def continue doing this.... YIPPEE i also tried a more descriptive writing style but lmk if its too wordy.....

hope u liked it!! pls like + reblog <3 ok baiii!!

[mysterycitrus]

i saw that user's reply to your jtodd post and wow were they projecting hard, it's one thing to feel a personal connection to a character through your own subjective read on them it's a whole other to act like that's the objective point of the actual character and his storylines

yeah look everyone interprets characters in different ways but i think it’s pretty out of pocket to reply to a meme post and talk about how a character who is explicitly, specifically portraying a radically violent “the punishment fits the crime” ideology is intended to be a competent metaphor for victims of sa? if that’s ur interpretation of that character more power to u, but positing as though that’s reflected in the text to smack down on people who are talking in the tags is pretty wild. that’s not even getting into denying that in fanon dick is crucified to make jason look better, whether it be framing him as the bad brother (to jason and tim) or reframing jason as the independent, powerful, and competent person that dick is established as in canon.

he does act differently in the lost days, sure, but even then he is singularly driven by a personal vendetta. u can make the argument that when he allows himself to actually act morally he can make tangible change — he acts selflessly to protect others. but that is not the norm when he arrives back in gotham.

i really wish people would stop trying to justify jason’s actions when they were never supposed to be justified! acting as if bruce is somehow the same or worse because what… he beats people up and then puts them in hospital? how is that remotely comparable to decapitating people and seizing control of the drug trade? the entire point is that he’s working differently to batman in a way that does not actually change gotham for the better! when the kids of the people he’s murdered grow up they’ll be going to the martha wayne foundation for housing and social support, or to leslie’s for free healthcare. they’re not going to be looking for college scholarships from the guy who shot a bazooka at black mask — and that’s fine! that’s what makes jason interesting as a foil to bruce!!

anyways like i said to rus