#i didnt mean to make any of them angsty i swear

[jjkbambi]

the morning after luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! part two of is it new years yet because you do not get back together just cuz he has good dick OMG 🖕🖕🖕🖕😒 he also has a great personality and loves eating pussy

warnings: smut, kinda angsty, he’s manipulative but honestly he’s such a nice guy, you should really give him a second chance

^ not edited let’s alll just practice gratitude 🙏

seven days, thirteen hours, and nine minutes and thirty six seconds.

that’s how long it had been since luigi had seen you. not that he’d been counting, he was truly trying to be normal about the distance this time around.

he replays the morning after on a loop, searching for the slightest hint he’d done something wrong to no avail. as a matter of fact, your quiet body was beside him until deep into the afternoon, nothing but soft snores exchanged between the two of you. he wakes before you, kissing your forehead before taking his leave. his frat brothers whistle at him as he enters the wretchedly messy house, throwing him a water.

“happy new year, big guy,” one of them, hasan, greets. “did’ya spend your night thinking about new goals or scoring the same one?”

luigi rolls his eyes. “fuck off.”

another brother chimes in, bright-eyed. “when are we meeting her?”

“in your dreams.”

he had no intention of sharing you in any way; the thought of anyone else even looking at you irritated him. but starting the new year off by your side was far too great a fate to be stoic about. he grabs a plate of what’s left of their shitty communal breakfast (jar salsa from the night before, scrambled eggs, and two pieces of mostly burnt toast) and brings it into your room.

“y/n,” he calls out while entering. the door to the bathroom is now closed, and he sees your shadow shuffling around the room.

hesitant, the door creaks open. youre back in your black minidress, holding onto your heels. “hey, pretty.”

“hi,” you say tightly, the mistakes and soreness from the night before lingering in your mind. you’ve just wiped away the tears still streaked on your face, yet your ex-boyfriend hardly looks hungover.

“dressed up just for me?” he jokes, kissing your cheek. he offers you the plate of food but you shake your head.

“lacy’s waiting for me. i’ve got to go.”

“stay,” he says, his voice honey-sweet, like the boyfriend you knew months ago. it makes you feel sick, the familiarity of it all suffocating you. the room feels too small.

you push away from him. “i have to go.”

“baby,” he drops everything he’s holding to grab you again. “what’s wrong? is everything alright?”

he always blows your mind with his audacity. “no, everything’s not alright, luigi,” you spit back. “we shouldn’t have—none of that should’ve happened.”

“what do you mean?”

“luigi,” you sigh. “we’re over, alright? it’s done.”

“y/n—”

“i mean it,” you raise your voice so slightly, but still it breaks. “you cheated on me, then pulled all this shit, i can’t do it anymore.”

“you can’t do it anymore? are you serious?”

“yes!”

“you ignored me for weeks then showed up at my fucking party, dressed like that,” his voice was low, but angry. brows furrowed, he doesn’t lose his grip on you. it scares you. “you can’t tell me you weren’t bartering for my attention.”

“i wasn’t.”

his jaw sets. “then who’s?”

“oh my god. nobody’s!”

“don’t fucking lie to me—”

“lu, stop, seriously.” your voice trembles this time, and you both notice it. he drops your hand.

“i didnt mean to hurt you,” he says, soft at your upset. “i swear—i dont remember cheating on you. i’m not gonna mess up like that again, i promise.”

he leans in to kiss you, to seal the pledge with his gentle touch, but you pull back. “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean to hurt me—you did. you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.“

his big brown eyes bear into yours and he swears, “i can make it up to you.”

“luigi,” you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until he brings his hands up to wipe your tears away. “i just don’t think this is a good idea, i’m sorry.”

“come on,” he says, frowning. “i love you. only you.” his lean-in to kiss you is successful this time. the kiss feels much better—softer—than last night’s. he’s gentle with his desperation, intent on making you stay. “‘m sorry, okay?” he says between kisses. “let me make it better.”

“no, luigi, we shouldn’t—”

“you’ve got to hear me out, y/n,” he takes your lips again. his hot kisses move down your neck—and it all feels so different this time around. even the air in the room feels lighter. his voice is against your ear when he swears, “i’ll be good to you, sweetheart, i promise.”

saying no to him is near impossible—it’s why you shut yourself off of him for weeks, avoiding places he frequented, deactivating your social media, ignoring his constant stream of messages and calls. now, he has you, and within minutes, you’re pressed against the wall again.

“feels good?” he teases, grinding his hard-on into your core. you melt underneath him, you can’t help it, he’s so warm.

“lu,” you whimper. you’re still sensitive from how selfishly he took you the night before, you can’t help but react to his touch so quickly. it felt so raw.

“wait—” he never does. his hands are on your hips again, moving your body against his.

“just let me take care of you,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck again. this time, he was sure to leave marks.

he keeps the dress on this time. he places you back onto the bed, and as you gather the courage to take him in again, he moves beneath you.

“knew i recognized these,” his voice hot against the fabric of your panties.

you told yourself the lacy black panties were just meant to match the dress, but it all seemed so intentional—the party crash, the kitchen drive-by, the fact that you were wearing his valentines day gift. whether this was a manifestation of your greatest fear or desire, you couldn’t tell.

he kisses your thighs, then runs his tongue against your core through the fabric of your panties before ceremoniously ripping them off. he kisses and sucks at your wetness. you tremble at the suddenness of his movement. his big nose is so prominent in your pussy, you can’t help but grind yourself against his perfect face and whine as he drinks you in.

“you’re such a fucking mess,” luigi says, smiling into your warmth. his unshaven stubble tickles your sensitive cunt, sending a tremor through you. “so wet, i’ve barely even touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” you whimper.

he grabs your ass, pulling you closer to his relentless mouth. it’s ridiculous how good he feels. he’s completely shameless in his endeavor to ruin you.

“look at me,” luigi orders, so you do. you look down to see him, finding that he’s already gotten to touching himself. his hard length at the edge of the bed, furiously red, as he strokes himself. “i think about you everyday,” he admits in between licking at your core. “i missed how this pretty pussy tasted. i missed having you like this. holding you down so you can’t squirm away. missed hearing you beg.”

you’re almost there, fidgeting underneath his hands. “luigi, please. it’s too much.”

“you’ve taken worse,” he growls into you.

he feels like he’s on fire. one hand moves up and down along his cock fervently, while the other lends itself to fingering your frothing pussy. you mewl at the sudden entry, back arching.

“luigi,” you whine. “please.”

“i’m trying to do a nice thing for you, y/n,” he hums, “but you want me to be selfish, hm? want me to take you?”

“yes,” you say, breathless.

“fuckin’ slut,” he grumbles, pulling himself away from your wet cunt. he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “what d’you want from me, huh?”

“want you.”

“course you do,” luigi says, surprising you with hard slaps against your sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, the unfamiliar storm of bliss and torment, and he chuckles darkly. “you fuckin’ belong to me.”

he grabs your chin and forces you into another kiss, your wetness now staining you both. he lifts your leg up and slides himself back into your wet warmth. “you’re dripping,” he praises as he pounds into you. the exhilarating pain sets your senses alight, you grip onto him tighter without even realizing. “all for me, yeah?”

“all for you.” you nod. this is not how you expected this conversation to go. you writhe at how big he is, how hard.

“you can take it,” he grunts. he’s not fast, this time—his thrusts are agonizingly slow and tortuously deep—just as you think it’s all entirely too much, one hand grips your clothed tit, the other lifts to cradle your chin, forcing your lips to part open. he spits into your mouth. “swallow,” he orders.

you do.

“good girl,” he places sloppy, wet kisses along your jaw, your neck, then goes to bite at your tits. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

“i thought about you too,” you admit sheepishly, out of your mind. he looks up at you, raises his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “i missed you.”

to your surprise, he scoffs. “fuckin’ bitch.” he suddenly loses the interest in being gentle with you, returning to your body rough and angry. his fingers massage against your clit, unraveling you. “you’re just as crazy as i am, you know that? running around town like you don’t belong to me. like you don’t touch yourself late at night thinking about this cock. wishing those fingers were half as good as mine, huh? fuckin’ idiot.”

“luigi,” you cry out. was this him being nice?

“be a good girl f’me,” he grunts. he feels you pulse around his cock and drives into you with even more force. “cum all over me, baby. have my fuckin’ kids.”

“luigi,” you mewl again, desperate for release.

“come on, pretty, show me how good it feels.”

his lips return to yours, hot wet and desperate, as he cums inside of you. you’re a complete mess—squirming and whimpering as you unravel onto his cock, he catches your moans with kisses and leaves you shaking underneath him.

“good girl,” he hums, kissing your forehead.

for a fleeting moment, the two of you are perfect. everything feels just right. he slips into the spot beside you, the disarray of tangled sheets forgotten as he pulls you into his warmth. you sink into the nape of his neck, and though there are no more words spoken, the air is thick with an undeniable love, quiet but all encompassing.

but when he stirs awake, reaching for you, all that lingers is the soft, fading smell of your spring perfume.

MASTERLIST send requests ! <3

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2- pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, jun's has one brief suggestive mention, fluffy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3232

a/n: tysm to everyone who read and enjoyed the whole series <33 it was rlly fun to write angst with a fluffy ending hehe

masterlist

jun -

against his better judgment, jun sat in silence for a while as he contemplated what to do. you were likely not only mad, but also disappointed at him ditching you like that. except he hadnt meant to! he truly had no idea he would sleep through the entirety of the morning. he had been so excited to spend his favorite day with his favorite person, but now he was left as a complete asshole while you believed him to have carelessly put you aside with no warning

after a few more minutes of self-pitying, he decided to get up. it was better to try and make amends and explain himself than to let even more time pass. he knew you'd be out by the time he arrived to your place, but at least that way he could fix something up for your arrival. he decided against calling you. it didnt feel personal enough, plus, the least he could do was surprise you.

without further thought, jun headed straight to your place, but not before inquiring his mom about a few recipes he knew you liked. his current plan was to make you a romantic dinner upon your return. in order to allow you to enjoy your day in whichever way you wished to, he continued to not contact you with his new plan. he knew it might've been dumb to not even answer the multiple messages you'd left him while he slept, but he wanted to apologize face to face with a romantic gesture.

preparing the meal had been easy enough. he followed it by creating a nice ambience with the lights and a few candles, along with some mellow music and incense. the next step in his plan was to offer you a massage and his wholehearted company for the rest of the night to do whatever you so wished.

luckily for him, your outing did not extend into the night, meaning his meal would become either a brunch or an early dinner. but that didn't matter to him the moment you stepped in and spotted him in suit and tie waiting for you in your apartment, eyes wide as saucers at the unexpected intrusion.

"jun?"

"wait! dont say anything. i rehearsed this, okay? let me say my thing first."

you were already used to his shenanigans, so you gestured at him to continue before voicing any questions.

"i'm so sorry. i know i promised to be here. and i was planning to be here on time! but i, uh, i fell asleep. i know how stupid that sounds, trust me! i didn't plan on this. i was so exhausted and i didnt realize that id sleep through all my alarms and your messages. my phone died last night too, so i didnt even realize you had called me. i'm just ... im sorry. i know im an idiot. please forgive me? i made you a romantic dinner to make up for it! i hope you like it, they're my mom's recipes," he paused for a second before continuing, "i love you! i wanted to spend the whole day with you, i swear. i know it didnt go as planned, but id you let me, id love to spend what remains of it doing whatever you want. im sorry i left you alone. i never meant to."

"junnie ..."

jun immediately noticed your lip begin to stick out in a pout, with watery eyes to match.

"oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry," he rushed you into his embrace, "i didnt mean to make you cry! i- how can i make it up to you? i'll do anything, just say the word."

you halted him before he could continue, remaining in his hold but disconnecting yourself enough to look into his eyes.

"no, junnie. it's just ... fuck, im sorry if my texts were harsh. i thought you had just ditched me for no reason. you must've been so exhausted, baby, im sorry. i understand why you weren't here, and ... god, thank you for the dinner. you're so sweet, junnie, im so so-"

"no! dont apologize. you're not allowed to apologize on your birthday. in a perfect world i wouldve made it home and fallen asleep in your arms instead. will you have dinner with me? then i can take you to bed," he interrupted himself upon realizing what he said, "oh, wait! not like that! but well, if you want too ... it's your day, anything you say goes. happy birthday, by the way," he pressed his nose to yours, "i love you."

you couldn't help but giggle at his panicked state, appreciating the sweet words nonetheless.

"thank you, junnie. i love you."

soonyoung -

soonyoung wasn't too sure where he was going.

it's not like be was blackout drunk, he was just drunk. period. he still had some sense of reason. he was almost 85% sure he was in minghao's car. but there was no way to be completely sure from the angle in which he was laying down. that's when his friend decided to inquire his name to check on him, thus confirming soonyoung's current whereabouts. that was also when soonyoung fell right back asleep.

next time he gained consciousness he was being dragged out of the car and being directed to follow minghao. he could recognize his new location anywhere. he was standing right outside your apartment. when you opened the door, he couldnt help but instantly let himself fall atop you, attacking you with a hug as you were forced a few steps back due to his body weight being dropped on you. you held him back, patting his back as you spoke to minghao about something. he wasn't too sure. the familiar scent at the crook of your neck had him too distracted to care.

finally minghao left, allowing you two some alone time. you left him on the couch and got him water, telling him he needed to sober up before you could talk, because apparently you had something to say to him. it was odd. you weren't cooing at him as you usually did. you also weren't stuck to his side, giving him his daily dose of physical affection like he'd always demand. he decided to shrug it off, allowing himself to fall into deep slumber on the uncomfortable space of your couch. he'd figure it out tomorrow.

when tomorrow came, soonyoung was hit with two things. one came after the other.

the first was his headache, which almost went away on its own at the mere aight of the aspirin you had left on the coffee table in front of him. he made a mental note to give you a thank you kiss the moment he saw you.

the next thing he was hit with was realization of how uneven this relationship seemingly was.

as he got up to seek you out, he stopped just before entering your bedroom, realizing you were on a phone call. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he was also really nosy by nature, so the math did itself.

"yeah. im sorry for cancelling on you yesterday ... no, i know ... it's not like that .... he just forgot .... yeah ..... he came home drunk .... i dont know. i think i'll just let him figure it out on his own .... i am hurt. we made plans and he just blew me off to drink with his friends, of course im hurt .... i'll just see you tomorrow, i gotta go take care of him .... yeah, i know im an idiot, but i love him .... okay, bye. love you too."

soonyoung could only hear your side of the conversation, but that had been enough for him to clue the pieces together. your birthday was yesterday. which was something he knew, but had completely left his mind at the mention of free drinks with the guys.

after that realization came many others.

you had shown him no type of anger upon his arrival, even making sure take care of him in his drunken state. you had changed him into his pjs as he slept, tucked him into your couch, given him medicine. even after he blew you off. on your birthday. fuck.

he gave himself no time to think before he barged into the room, immediately kneeling in front of you as he grabbed onto your hands. he paid no mind to your shocked state as he started babbling apologies to you.

"im so sorry, i- i dont know how i forgot. baby ... im so fucking sorry. i cant believe you took care of me even after i forgot. you shouldve punished me. you should punish me. i dont deserve you. im so so so sorry. i love you so much, i swear i never meant go forget. im just an idiot. that's not an excuse! you're just too good for me. I'll make it up to you! how can i? anything! please, i love you."

his rambling could only be blamed on his still buzzed state, as that had only been half of his apology. he kept going for ten minutes, allowing you no room to respond. he was surprised when by the end of it you'd instructed him to get up, almost tackling him in a hug as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he might've been an idiot, but he'd accept any affection from you he could get. always.

"soonie ..." you pulled away to look into his eyes, a sweet softness behind them. them you decided to slap his chest, making him wince at the unexpectedness of it, "you fucking idiot! i waited for you all day, and you ditch me for alcohol?"

"baby, i-"

"no! i cant sit through another ten minutes of apologies. im pretty sure you're a little drunk still. i forgive you. but you have a lot of making up to do, understand?"

he felt like a scolded puppy, but agreed regardless, telling you that he would swear off alcohol if that's what it took. he enjoyed your giggle as he suggested ridiculous ways to make it up to you, knowing he'd genuinely do anything to make up for ever making you upset.

minghao -

if he hadn't felt immediate regret the moment the words came out of his mouth, he sure felt it now, hearing you cry through the door to your shared bedroom.

he had no idea what had gotten into him. never had he ever even entertained the idea of disrespecting you like that, much less ever making you cry. he could take his job too seriously sometimes, making him a bit too irritable when his work ethic was questioned in any way. although this was true, he knew it was still just a cheap excuse for his behavior. no matter what had been going through his mind, he knew he had no right to speak to you in the way that he did, dismissing you so coldly on a day that was meant to celebrate you.

he was unsure what to do. he wanted to comfort you so badly, but he knew that he had been the sole cause for your pain. he felt himself get emotional at the mere thought, with your sobs making him weak at the knees in regret. he sat himself down on the other side of the door, knowing from the proximity of your cries that you must've been on the opposite side as well. he kept quiet, simply torturing himself as he heard the love of his life cry because of him. there was only so much he could take, however, before finally interrupting.

"my love ..?"

your cries seized a bit at his interruption, but your sniffles and heavy breath could still be heard, breaking his heart bit by bit.

"angel ... im so sorry ... i- i don't know what came over me. you're right. i should've called you. there is no world in which i wouldnt want to be with you to celebrate the birth of the love of my life. you're my everything. i want to shout it from the rooftops. i want everyone to know who my entire world is; who makes my heart beat," he took a pause to breathe, allowing himself to think of how to properly apologize to you, "i should never speak to you the way i just did, i ... im disgusted with myself. you're the most important thing in my life. being the source of your sadness makes me lose my mind. my one purpose in this life is to love you with all i have. im so sorry ... my love, please dont cry over me. no one deserves your tears."

by the end of his speech you had begun to cry harder, making his heart crumble even more.

"angel ... let me see you, please. i need to hold you, need to- need you in my arms. cant stand not taking away your pain, please, i-"

his words were interrupted by a sudden opening of the door. by the time he'd gotten up, you had already walked further into your room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you made yourself as small as possible, looking down while he approached. he knelt in front of you, grabbing your hands as he held them against his own, kissing at the back of your palms as he professed his love for you once more. he then got up and made it so you'd stand up with him, allowing him to cradle you in his arms.

"please forgive me ... i adore you more than anything."

you finally looked up at him, bloodshot eyes as he looked down at you with both worry and adoration.

"did you mean it? do you really not care to ditch me for your career? did you-"

"no! never. you're everything to me. there's nothing i hold more dear to my heart than your own. i'll never make you cry again. i'll grow old with you and give you nothing but happiness. please, please forgive me."

he knew his words could only get him so far, being fully aware that he had purposely hurt your feelings in the heat of the moment. he simply hoped that this would not cause a strain in your relationship; that you would somehow look past it and give him the forgiveness that he didn't deserve.

his thoughts were fortunately interrupted by a soft meeting of your lips, allowing him to melt into you before you pulled away.

"hao ... i forgive you. i- i never thought you'd just disregard me like that," he physically winced at the thought, "but you've shown me nothing but love and respect otherwise. i understand you were stressed, and i love you, so i forgive you."

"thank you, angel. i'll take tomorrow off, okay? let me keep you all to myself so i can show you how sorry i am; how badly i love you."

he then spent the rest of the night attached to you, waxing poetic at you as he told you of all the plans he had for the two of you tomorrow, even eventually progressing into talking about his night at the fashion show. your enthusiasm at his rambles made him realize how fortunate he was to have you all over again. he made a promise to himself and to you that he'd never lose his temper around you ever again.

chan -

"wait, what? ah! don't hit me!"

"you idiot! you're dating a literal angel and you forget their birthday?! what is wrong with you?"

"it's not today! it's, uh, wait. fuck. today?!"

checking his phone really quickly he realized that today's date was in fact your birthday. he hadn't bothered to write down a reminder for your birthday anywhere, knowing there was absolutely more way he could forget. except that the days had begun to blend together at some point, rendering him into a machine as he just went to his schedules without much thought. what he hadn't accounted for, however, was for your birthday to get lost in the mess also.

chan hadn't planned for his day to go like this. he 100% was not expecting to be berated by seungkwan the moment he stepped foot into the practice room, being scolded over being a careless boyfriend. even as annoyed as he was at his friend, he knew he was right. he hadn't meant to, but ultimately he had forgotten about you. it sucked to think about how he had bid you goodbye just this morning with not a single care in the world, now realizing that you were probably alone and feeling disregarded by him. i mean, for fuck's sakes, he had told you to take the day off a few weeks back. promising a fun afternoon together after he got off work. and now he had completely forgotten about it.

he needed to fix this, and quick.

like any lovesick guy (such as chan, who was immensely down bad for you), he ran to leave practice. he knew soonyoung would have his ass on a silver platter the moment he arrived and noticed chan's absence, but after weighing his options (hurting your feelings vs. being berated by yet another one of his older brothers), he decided you were the clear priority.

ran might've been an overstatement, but he did rush as much as he could. he wanted to account for the extra time he'd need to spend to stop by a flower shop on the way in order to beg for forgiveness in a more heartfelt way.

after picking a bouquet of your favorites, he instructed the driver to take him to your address, which led him to his current predicament as he stood outside your apartment door, breathless due to having ran up the stairs in very dramatic fashion. what could he say? he was just a boy in love.

the moment you opened the door to his knocks, he rushed in, rambling endless apologies to you as he handed you the flowers, professing his love to you while also whining (mostly at himself) that seungkwan of all people had been the one to remind him of the love of his life's special day. it was funny, really, how he didn't seem to run out of words when expressing his regret at his mistake.

you interrupted him halfway through his fourth apology, giggling at his widened eyes. okay, this was not exactly the reaction he was expecting.

"chan! jesus, breathe," you interrupted, "i'm not mad. i mean, i was. but you literally only left an hour ago, i cant believe you're back already."

"i headed back the moment kwan told me. baby. i'm sorry. i had planned to take the day off and surprise you, it just slipped my mind, i swe-"

"chan! it's fine! i'm not- i'm not mad, i promise. the fact that you came back running is so ... it's funny," you giggled again, "but its also very sweet. you have nothing to apologize for, okay? i'm just happy you're here."

he hugged you after that, disregarding the flowers in your hands as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

"remind me to thank kwannie for reminding my bad, forgetful boyfriend about my birthday."

"yah! you're not allowed to hang out with him anymore, okay? he's a bad influence," he complained against you, enjoying the vibration of your laugh in return.

a/n: sorry some are way angstier than others ;-; i wanted to vary them a little. anyways tysm if u read the entirety of this mini series <3

[imaniwriting]

Rafe Cameron Doing Lines and then being caught by reader who he promised to get clean very very angsty pleasee

(hate but love this at the same time)

Warnings : usage of drugs, underage drinking at party, swearing (tell me if i missed any)

Summary : after rafe broke his promise once again he has to pay a bigger price than his drugs will ever cost

Genre : Angst, Angst, Angst

Rafe was complety lost. He did line after line not caring for a single thing around him, the thought of selling drugs long lost. He had become greedy, any person that walked his way to buy some he had shot down.

“Rafe, dude” yelled topper over the loud music blasting through the speakers. Rafe looked up at him with the 50 dollar bill still held at his nose. “dude i thought you wanted to get clean”

Rafe shook his head chuckling “topper, bro, you know damn well that i only tell y/n that because she keeps bugging me” topper stared down at the boy. “well good luck explaining that one” he had said pointing behind the boy where you stood.

You stared at Rafe anger mirroring in your eyes before he could yell your name you stormed out pushing past coupples that were grinding on each other making disgust kreep onto your face.

“y/n!” he yelled stumbling over his own foot. “y/n please I didnt mean it like that!” he reasoned trying to catch up with you but he was stoned and it didnt help that there was hundreds of people around him.

You quickly got to your car before ripping the keys out of your pocket. But that gave him enough time to reach her. “What Rafe? you wanna tell me that you’ll get clean so i can stop bugging you?” you spit out making him flinch slighty.

He isnt used to you speaking to him like that “baby im sorry, I promise i’ll-“ but before he could finish the sentence you slapped him across the face. “Stop!” you shouted at him. “Stop! Promises are supposed to make you not break them!” you continued now with tears in your eyes “we pinky promised Rafe! God, you told me you could quit anything aslong as you kept me!” you then met his eyes who were twitching lightly. “am i not enough?”

That question made Rafe frown. Did he really make you feel like that? Like you werent enough? He took both of your hands into his cupping them slightly. “Y/n please don’t do this” he said knowing what you were playing at.

He let your hands fall to your side before grabbing your face with both hands forcing you to stare into his eyes. He leaned in to kiss you on your lips but you moved your head to the side. “Y/n please, im sorry baby” he tried to convince you but you just coldly shook your head.

“We’re done Rafe” you said making him let go of your face. He had just lost the love of his life to some stupid substance he couldn’t get enough off. He also just realized that this loss would hurt him more than anything.

Not being able to do coke or any drugs seemed so much easier than loosing you. You placed the car keys into his hand “ you can have this back.” You said his hand trembled not being able to hold the weight of the keys. The keys he had given you on your birthday last week.

“Good bye Rafe” you had said before taking off into the dark night. He wanted to run after you and beg for your forgiveness, god, you wanted that he would but you knew that he would return to his old habits and he’d disappoint you once again even he knew.

[silencesscreams]

be my mistake

steve harrington x f!reader (smut)

“steve, how could i avoid you? it’s impossible, you’re everywhere i look!“

a/n: also i slipped in a little amy march reference in the discussion part, its my steve fic, sorry in advance if you dont like it and its shitty!! english isn’t my first language so sorry about any grammar mistakes

warnings: angsty-ish, best friends w the scoops troop (i love them so muchhh), afab reader, crying, swearing, kissing, praise, oral (f receiving), begging, a bit of degradation, penetration, unprotected (do not do this pls.),

MINORS DNI

you could say that working at the local family video had its perks.

specially when your two closest friends worked with you but, of course, none of them knew about your recently resurfaced crush on one of them.

steve was not the same guy he was when you met him, sure, he flirted with a lot of girls, and with you, but he was nicer. he was sweet to customers, he even occasionally 'babysit' (that was how robin called hanging out with the kids he was friends with).

recently, steve had become more touchy towards you, he was constantly giving you hugs, he even held your hand at the movies once! sure, you and steve had become best friends, but did he know the effect he had over you? he must know. you blushed whenever he barely touched you, and you felt like your feelings were pretty obvious, you never knew how to hide them properly. he must know, right?

something else, which robin had noticed and commented on with you, was that steve hadn't flirted with any girls in a while now. sure it was weird, because thats basically the thing he did the most, but you didnt really bother, it actually made you a bit less insecure.

you, steve and robin started to watch movies every late monday, since you had less customers on those days, so you'd usually 'work late' and get some takeout and watch some shitty movie you'd probably talk through and make very bad jokes about later.

“ladies! im going on a second date tonight!” he said, barging in with a smile on his face. you could feel your heart fall to the ground, you didn’t even know he had a first date with someone recently.

“what? with who?” robin asked confused.

“her names camila, she goes to state college, i think”

“hm, and did you tell her you have no dreams for the future and work at a family video?” robin teased him.

“oh please, i have a lot of dreams!” he complained, putting on his vest.

“sure you do, stevie” you commented, rolling your eyes playfully. why were you feeling so stupid?

you could feel your stomach fall to the ground, god, that hurt.

it was not like you ever even kissed him. so that meant he was just flirting with you for the fun, then, god, that hurt even more.

and plus, it was steve harrington.

you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship ever, specially not because of some crush you had, if you could even call it that.

it lasted so long it was probably a free fall at this point.

and so steve went on the date.

and with that, steve had a new girlfriend.

and you hated every single cell in her body.

camila was mean, evil, sick, twisted, a bitch, disgusting and she had this god awful breath. her perfume left you with headaches. and did i say she was mean? because she really was.

but you couldn’t help to not be at least a bit angry at him, and so you found yourself avoiding him at all costs. mostly because he was always with camila and you found her insufferable, but it was also because, yes, you were hurt.

then steve and camila broke up.

so you found out, you had no excuse not to hang out with him anymore. you had no excuse to skip movie sessions, outings, or anything else.

and so whenever a hang out would come up, you suddenly had a sore throat, a headache, a fever. and you don’t know why, but robin wasn’t judging you for it.

you told her about your crush and told her that was the reason you weren’t hanging out with them outside of work, and she understood. she didn’t even question it, and that made you feel worse about it.

“okay, whenever you’re ready to hang out again, feel free to come over, alright?” that was all she said. and it hurt deeply, because you missed your best friends.

but being around steve was unbearable.

and you still, gave it a shot.

monday came around, and robin invited you to hang out at steve’s and watch friday the 13th. for the first time in 2 months, you said yes.

punctually, you were at steve’s, it was 7pm and that was half an hour later to what robin scheduled with you, but her car wasn’t on the driveway. that definitely made you nervous. one thing was hanging out with steve AND robin, the other was hanging out with steve.

took a while for steve to answer the door, once he did, he was standing there in all his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and shirtless. you could feel all your dignity (which was very little) leave your body. you were feeling your body get hotter by the second and the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy.

“hey, come in” he smiled awkwardly, looking around his house nervously.

“sorry i didn’t answer the door earlier, my family’s out of town and i forgot and assumed someone else would answer it.” you smiled at him.

“no problem” you said, trying so hard not to look at him.

“hm, i’m gonna put something on, sorry about that. feel free to sit on the couch, eat, whatever you want to do is fine”

“okay” you smiled, heading over to his living room. there was popcorn on the coffee table, the vhs tape on the table and there was a half filled dr pepper bottle on the floor. you thought it was sweet steve put this together, why aren’t you that mad at him anymore?

when he came back, he was wearing a old t shirt, stained with something that looked like ketchup. he was smelling good. had he put on perfume? god, you missed his smell.

“you wanna start now?” he asked, putting the tape in the vcr.

“maybe we should wait for robin, right?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“she’s not coming. didn’t she tell you? she got caught up with something at work.”

“oh, right.” she didn’t tell you, and you were sure that was written all over your face.

“y/n?” he called.

“yeah?” you looked at him, your ears flushed.

“have you been avoiding me?” oh shit.

“what do you mean?” you decided to lie shamelessly was just the way to go.

“you know what i mean. you never go out with us anymore, and now i’ve just mentioned robin isnt coming, i realize its because of me.” oh shit.

“what?” you laugh anxiously. “no, i just wanna see the movie, its not like that.”

“stop it. you havent been able to look at me for weeks now and i dont get it. goddamn it! im your best friend!” he sighed, rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was nervous.

“steve, how could i possibly avoid you? you’re everywhere i look!” you blurt out, he was looking at you now. “you’re at my job, you’re near my house, you give me a ride home, you’re in my fucking friend group!”

“i just wanna know what i did, because i never meant to hurt you-“

“steve, stop it, you’re being mean.” you were looking at his hairline, not actually being able to see his eyes in that moment, you were about to do it. “you know how i feel about you and you always have.”

that was probably it, that was the death of the friendship.

“what?” he lowered his head, trying to get something out.

“you dont get to do this to me, okay? you don’t. not when you desperately flirted with me for months just to get a girlfriend. not when you tricked me into thinking that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. not when i’ve been in love with you since middle school.” you felt like you just had a knife shoved into your stomach because of the way he looked at you. brows furrowed, eyes empathetic, but not looking at you directly.

“im going home.” you managed to get that out, with eyes watery and cheeks flushed. you got up, trying so hard not to look back at him, counting your steps to the door.

one,

two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven.

you felt a hand gripping your shoulder.

“stay.” he whispered.

“what?” you turned around, looking up at his hazel colored eyes.

“stay.” his hands were on your waist.

“okay.” you answer, looking directly into his dark pupils and that was probably it for you. someday this man might just kill you, your heart was beating faster than ever and you could feel your stomach knotting and knotting and knotting, it was so silly. you felt so incredibly silly.

until he pulled you in. until he was just a few centimeters away from your lips.

it all happened way too fast.

his lips were touching yours, his hands all over you. you ran your hands through his hair, your mouth parted as his tongue slides into your mouth, licking over yours. his hands on your waist.

your hand goes under his shirt and he felt so warm, until he pulls away. you look up at him, doe eyed and he smiles at you.

he doesn’t even have to say anything, and neither do you.

he takes you up to his room, his hand pressed against your lower back, leading you upstairs with the biggest smile on his face.

he opens the door for you, as you head in you notice he’s just looking at you, blushing and shifting from foot to foot. he gives you a look you had never seen before and it makes your heart pound faster than ever. you can’t bear to hide a smirk.

he stood still in the doorway, but he quickly steps forward once you go up to him and peck his lips, giving him a perfect view of your bra.

holy fucking shit.

then, like it didn’t drive you insane, you pull away, grinning at how he went forward with you.

you were sat at the edge of the, bed legs crossed and eyes observant as he locked his door.

with a speed that drives you crazy, steve lifts you and pulls you into his lap, so you’re straddling him. he does that so quickly, it makes you yelp once you land comfortably, instinctively grinding your hips down, making him groan, the low tone of his voice making heat shoot between your thighs.

“such a tease.” he was toying with the hem of your skirt. “this is hot.” he whispered, voice thick as he lays his left hand on your overexposed thigh.

you go over to kiss him again but stop in the middle of the way, liking the way he looked at you. you lift his hand, from the fabric of your skirt up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles. the action feels so intimate and sweet it makes him smile a bit (he also gets a bit hard but that’s not the point).

you look down at him from where your sat, eyelashes batting as you stop kissing his knuckles when he pulls his hand from you, slipping his fingers between yours and gripping your thigh with the spare hand. you kiss down his neck and he can’t stop thinking of how pretty you looked, really.

that shirt, that bralette he knew was under it.

its not fair you looked like that. he just couldn’t help himself at the sight of you.

his hands coast up your bare sides under the shirt, that made you shudder and rock a little in his lap, the relief of the friction ended suddenly as he grabd your hips and pins you down firmly onto him, so you can’t move.

it was useless to try to roll your hips, specially with his hold pinning you down.

he hums, hand sliding further up your top and squeezing just below your tit.

you can’t help but moan a little as he palms your skin, his voice low and thick as honey,

“you look like…” your head tips back at the feeling of his hands on you and he takes that as an opportunity to trail soft kisses along your neck “like you’re mine.” you mewl weakly as his hand cups your breast, his touch clouding up your brain.

“you’re mine, right?” you nod eagerly, pushing up against the hand tucked under your shirt. he clicks his tongue and rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, “not an answer, hun.”

he had barely touched you and you’re already shaking, breathing heavily and face flushed.

he started kissing your neck, nipping at it.

“answer or you’re not cumming tonight.” the timbre of his voice was incredibly low once he said that, it made your eyes round and your hips buck into air.

“steve, yes, i’m yours. i’ll be so good, please.” you whined.

he squeezes your breast in approval, humming at the way your eyes shut when he touches you.

“good girl.” he lifts you up, manhandling you as you’re being laid down on the bed, his hand leaving you and making you whine. you can feel him moving downwards, trailing kisses down your neck, stomach, before arriving between your legs.

he chuckles ad you whines, trailing soft kisses down your body.

“don’t be greedy.” he looked up at you from where he’s kissing, the waistband of your skirt, eyes wide as he takes in your already fucked out and needy expression.

“my greedy girl” you nod at that, head tilted up as your back arches up a bit, his mouth still pressing messy kisses to the inside of your thighs, “practically begging for me, huh?”

he’s mocking you, nipping at your inner thighs, marking up anywhere except where you need him. his hands are gripping and rubbing soft circles into your thighs, feeling you go lax and needy under him.

“steveee” you say, blushing at how desperate you sound, “please.”

you feel him smile against your inner thigh, looking up at you, “what it is it, princess? can’t even speak and i’ve barely done anything to you, huh, so needy.” his head drops down as he sucks another hickey into you hip, “use you words.” you grind upwards and he pins your hips down, tutting. he looks at you expecting something and you know he wont give you shit until you beg for it.

“steve, please,” your voice tapers into broken whines as your hips move on their own accord, missing his mouth. “need you in me, please, i’ll be so good for you. need you so bad, please.”

“that’s all you had to say, baby.” with that, his fingers push the fabric of your skirt up, showing your lace panties. he groans at the sight.

“shit, you’re so pretty.” he presses a kiss to your clothed core, making you moan, “gonna fuck you with these on, okay?” you nod lazily, the feeling of steve mouthing over your panties makes speaking very difficult. he grins,

“so fucked out.” he flattens his tongue over you, pushing your panties aside as he swipes his tongue over to your wet heat, lapping from your slit to your swollen clit, “haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re practically soaking.”

your hand has gone to his hair, your grip tightens. he knows that your pouting at that, even if he’s not looking.

steve pushes your legs farther apart, pushing your thigh up slightly as he lapped messily at your pussy.

your hands are tugging on his hair, stirring him on as he flicks over your clit in quick strokes that leave your legs shaking around his head. he looks up at you, your head thrown back slightly, shirt hitched up showing your bralette. he reaches up with one hand, helping you take of the shirt.

once its off, he sees your lacy bralette fully, straps falling down as your back arches. it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

he lifts your hips slightly, pressing two digits to your slick entrance, watching how you try and push against them, hips pinned down as you buck down mindlessly,

“steve!” you mewl, voice wrecked. he hums, flicking over your clit with his togue. “aw, doll, is that all you can say?” he gently fucks his fingers into your tight heat, feeling the way you clench around him as you let out another mewling main, legs thrown over his shoulders as he crooks his fingers upwards, pushing up against the sweet spot inside of you. your legs tighten on either side of his head, fingers fucking faster into you, “so fucked out, its cute.”

you blush red, eyes shut and lips parted in soft whines of his name. he liked the way you said it.

his fingers curl against your g-spot, fucking into you in tune with the quick movements of his tongue.

“fuck, steve, ju-just like that, please” he’s placing sloppy kisses over your clit, his fingers thrusting into you, picking up their pace as you clench around him, dripping over his hand.

“fuck, so pretty for me, baby” he groans as he kisses your clit, “such a pretty pussy, can’t wait to fuck you, gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?” he watches how you nod weakly between your choked moans of ‘yesyessteve’. you clench around him, his fingers fucking rapidly in and out of your cunt. you were just about to scream once he leaned forward, taking you clit in his mouth, lips latching the sensitive bud and sucking hard, fingers still curling up against your overworked spot as you grind upwards into his mouth and hand, his palm grinding against your entrance.

his fingers fuck into you fast and rough, his free hand reaching up to palm your breast through the fabric of your bra, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer to your climax.

“i’m gonna cum, oh my god, i’m gonna cum don’t stop please-“ you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. your thighs were clenching around his head, your hands curling in his hair as he lapped at you clit, his fingers hooking against your heat, watching how you fell apart at his touch, hips bucking as you chased your high.

“steve- fuck- you’re so fucking good” you can barely finish a sentence, grinding against his mouth desperately.

he loves you like this, whimpering and so needy, talking through broken little whines. the way you’re begging has him working over you faster.

he groans, feeling the was you clench around him, your slick walls contracting around his digits,

“fuck, you like that, don’t you? being mine? only good for me, huh?” any coherent answers get lost in your pleas of yes, please. he chuckles, fucking his fingers harder into you.

“ohmygodsteve” you’re a moaning mess, legs spread wide and shaking, his tongue circling your clit after his hand dropped, gripping your hip to lift you up slightly, fingers fucking into you slightly deeper. you’re praising him breath;essay, making his fingers move faster, sucking harder on your clit. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, the sight of you making him impossibly hard as he ground his hips into the mattress, taking in the way your head was tipped back, how your mouth was parted in soft moans of his name, how your fingers are gripped at his hair, grinding into his mouth and hand.

“aw, are you gonna cum already?” you nod as best as you can, his fingers are moving roughly in you, pulling you towards your finish. you try to hold off when he murmurs, flicking your clit with his tongue.

“cum for me, let me feel you squeeze my fingers with that thigh pussy.” you cum hard on his tongue, his digits still fucking into you, drawing you out of it. your climax crashes over you in waves, the feeling of being fucked open when you came making you whine.

you’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out of you. steve reaches up and pins your legs up to your chest, kissing you hard and rough. he nips ate your lips and murmurs,

“still need me, baby?” he’s rubbing your cheeks and you can’t help but push against his touch. your voice is broken and whinny,

“yes, please, need you so bad.” he kisses you again and you can feel his hair brushing over your face,

“good fucking girl.” you practically preen from his praise, as he sits up, taking off his shirt and lowering his sweatpants, he takes a moment to dip his hand below his waistband to palm himself through his boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad,” you whine in response, as he pushes is boxers down, his erection hitting up against his stomach. you moan then, seeing him stroke his cock at the sight of you, he chuckles, running his hand down his shaft at the way you’re whining for him.

“needy little slut, aren’t you?” you feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against your slick entrance as he lines himself up to you.

“your needy little slut” you say, grinding against his tip, your slick coating him. he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his voice low as he presses himself closer to you, stretching your cunt around him.

“of course you are” he’s spreading your legs and kissing you. he rocks his hips forward, not fucking you, but enough to make you moan, “tell me if you want to stop, okay?” with that, he pushes into you.

pushing his thick length into you in one stroke, the sudden stretch making you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on that soft spot,

“still so tight” he wastes no time starting to ove, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. “fuck, feels so fucking good” he kisses your neck, cooing at you. “pretty girl, look at you, taking it like such a good little slut.” he’s pulling your bra down, the flimsy lace pushed back. he fucks you harder, your tits bouncing with each hard thrust into you. you’re moaning lewdly as he thrusted forward, his cock stretching you open. it feels so good, the feeling of him filling you up. you cried out and gripped at his arms, each hard thrust fucking you into the mattress.

“fuck, steve, harder” he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the lost.

“you asked for it, doll” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted harder. “can you take this?” he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard. “you said you wanted it harder, didn’t you?”

your cheeks burn at the way he degrades your his relentless thrusts making the heat in your abdomen start to build. you’re moaning soft chants of ‘yes, please and steve’, babbling nonsensically through your moans. his thrusts are hard and deep, pushing against your walls, filling you in perfectly.

the rapid slap of skins fills the room as his hips pick up pace, slamming against yours with each thrust, the base of his cock grinding at your clit, the friction making you moan.

“fuck, taking me so well” he’s kissing your neck and playing with your tits, “you were made for me” he groans.

“oh my god” you moan as his cock pushes into you faster, the brutal snap of his hips making you cry out, you start babbling again, chasing your high. he feels so good inside of you, the roll of his hips bringing you closer to the edge.

he can tell you’re close, from the way your hips have started bucking upwards excitedly, grinding on his cock, the way your hands are gripping the nape of his neck. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you deeper as he angles his dick perfectly against your g-spot, ramming against it with every thrust.

“please, need it so bad” you beg, steve hums, his pace unflattering as he pounds into you,

“need what, baby?”

“need to cum” your voice sounds destroyed, “please-! please, need you to make me cum, steve” he grins, grabs your hips and lifts you up, fucking into you faster than before.

“only i can do this, huh?”

“you! only you, steve!” you moan out, trying desperately to press yourself against his his harsh hursts. you clamped around him as you felt your high building again. he must’ve felt it, reaching down between you two and pinching your clit, thrusts getting faster as you cried out.

“i want you to cum” he says, fucking you onto his cock, “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

his thumb rubs your clit faster, moving in time with his rapid thrusts, hips pistoling into you, fucking you hard as you came with a loud cry of his name, this one harder than the last. walls clenched hard around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, face screwed up in pleasure as you cry out his name, has him groaning. head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

“fuck, so good for me, honey” he kisses your shoulder. “such a good girl” he murmurs. he pulls out slowly and takes you in his arms, laying you down.

he starts getting up and you tug gently at his wrist. he kisses your forehead smiling.

“don’t worry, i’m just gonna get some things in the bathroom”

when he gets back, he throws you an old shirt, which you quickly put on.

“i can go, if you want to.” you mutter, looking down at your hands.

“what? no, are you crazy? stay. come on, lets watch that movie” he smiles at you, opening the tissue case.

“okay, i will then.” you couldn’t help but smile.

“hey, about that thing you said earlier” he looked into your eyes. “i love you too.”

-

tag: @nix-rose

[st4rgzer]

CAN YOU DO STILL THINK ABOUT YOU BY A BOOGIE WITH A HOODIE AND MAKE IT LIKE ANGSTY ND SHI ( chris pls🙏🏽🙏🏽 ) .

still think about you (chris sturniolo)

summary: when enough is enough, you act and confront chris

genre: just angst

cw!: swearing, cheating, kissing

a/n: i tried to do this the best i could since i didnt really know the song, i went with a different path (slightly) but i hope you like it<3

“i love you”

“…”

who knew a relationship of 6 months could be over over nothing, literally nothing. a silence. a silence that i anticipated, but nonetheless hurt just like the last time i tried saying it. from the look on chris’s face, he knew he fucked up, again.

“chris?” my voice was brittle, easily able to break any second now. my bottom lip trembled as he looked away, a guilty expression being hidden from me.

“baby you know how i feel-“ i cut him off. “do i?”

almost every ounce of respect i had for him shriveled away right then and there.

“do i know how you feel, if you can’t even fucking say ‘i love you’ to my face?” i tried to keep a firm voice despite the tears the pricked my eyes, desperate to come out.

i laughed, throwing my hands up in the air, in disbelief at the stupidity of the situation, and at chris’s inability to say a word.

“i don’t know what to say.”

“y’know what my mom told me, told me to watch who i fuck with and never trust a guy like you for shit.”

my words were petty and dripped with venom, tears falling over my cheeks. chris could only watch in pity.

“my friends warned me, fuck it, everyone warned me about you and about how much of a shit fucking person you are. but i didn’t believe them, and now i know. i feel fucking stupid, but i know i should’ve known better. instead of trusting any fucking bitch that slides into my dm’s. sure you might be rich ‘nd famous, but you’re no different than any rat i could find on the street.”

i spoke loudly, harshly. meaning every word that spewed from my mouth. my hand came up to my face to wipe the tears that had previously fallen. chris sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, keeping his head down, he knew i had a right to be this mad. making me wait and wait till he was ‘ready’ to step forward with the relationship.

seeing as he was going to do next to nothing to keep me from going, i grabbed my purse and stomped across his living room, opened the door, and slammed it shut.

it was bittersweet, sitting in my car in his driveway, secretly waiting for him to run after me. but nothing happened, no one ran after me. so i kept some of my self respect and drove off, leaving behind who i thought was going to be the ‘love of my life’.

but mundane moments don’t feel the same with his hands wrapped around my waist, head leaned on the crook of my neck. his scent had washed off from all my clothes after a few weeks. no messages from him came, and i don’t think he ever intended to send one anyway. the worst thing is i still check, i still care. so it made sense for me to grab the phone when a post notification of his instagram page went off. one that made my stomach drop, my throat dry, and my knuckles white as i gripped the device in my hands. was this how it felt to have a knife in your back? i thought. have it twisted around and stuck again and again ferociously? because that’s how it felt.

does he remember how he’d been so afraid of posting me to the world that he’d keep me secret until he knew that i was really comfortable? that he’d whisper “id rather keep you to myself just a little longer” as we talked about our future under the boston night sky. how he’d promise me that i was worth every penny and every minute. did he just forget everything?

i turned the phone off, and stared at a small spot on the wall, trying to think about anything else but the photo i had just seen. a girl, holding chris’s cheek. kissing it. chris was smiling, an ice cream cone in his hand. that was not his favorite flavor. surely he had done this out of spite, right? surely the caption that read “i love you, thanks for the ice cream” had been to hurt me, annoy me. was it the fact that is was me that he couldn’t say ‘i love you” to? cause it seems like that comes easy for him to say with everyone else.

my mind spiraled as the familiar feeling of tears brimming my eyes started to form. my throat burned and my hand formed into fists to try and stop them from shaking. any hope of returning to where i’d once called home, was lost. i still think about him, that’s the worst part.

“i have to tell you something”

GRACE TALKS: guys i dont even remember my taglist help remind me if u wanna be tagged🙏

[alienaiver]

Ummm I’m gonna go with!! 3 my lucky number and Kanda obvs. Thank u !! 🥰

my beloved bestie! 🧡✨ i could not write it any other way that i did because.... i didnt wanna give u angsty-angst bcos u and kanda deserve all good!!!!! u are so cute together i swear <333333

number three cashed out the sentence "just please open your eyes." ✨

it turned out to be 1.1k words and theres no real warnings except that there's a fight/argument between reader and kanda and he had a ..... special .. way of helping u emotionally. we love a strange little man!!!! ilysm!! i hope you enjoy and I APOLOGIZE AGGRESSIVELY FOR THE WAIT, i hope this is worth it !! 🫡🧡🧡🥰

”You can’t be serious.”

You’re seething with anger, warmth heating your cheeks and tears lining your lash line from the overwhelmingly growing frustration building up in you.

Kanda doesn’t spare you a glance from the couch where he takes a sip of his tea. You want to rip the cup from his hands and hurl it towards the wall. He knows that’s what you want to do – he wants you to try.

Calmly, he puts down the cup, with the little finger hitting the table first so it makes no sound as he was taught by Edgar.

“I am.” He answers cooly, leveling your stance with a glance in your direction. Your hands are clenched at your sides.

You’ve been holding in your anger for the past week, ever since getting fired from your job. No emotional reaction, no comments; Kanda hates when you hold it all in.

He knows the road paved to your emotions can be walled up though, so telling you directly to react will simply make you stubborn; make a point out of being just fine.

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to go and actively piss me off for a week straight!”

You’re yelling. Good. Kanda knows it’s about to hit. He’ll take most hits if it helps you, doesn’t even consider them hits, really. He prepares for more yelling, for punching a wall or the couch but what you end up doing is tremendously worse.

You turn around and walk to your shared bedroom. You don’t stomp, you don’t slam the door shut.

Kanda sits wide-eyed on the couch, confused. This isn’t like you; this is a reaction out of his scope of experience with you. Shit.

He fucked up.

Logically, Kanda knows this wasn’t the best route to take, that he sounds like what Lavi would call “red flag-ish”, but he prides himself in successfully getting to know you and your needs over the years you’ve been a couple. If he simply forces you, you will go the other way, refuse to mold into what people want – even if it is what you need.

Some emotions come for you, easier than they do for Kanda, but others do not. Kanda has through trial and error taught himself how to navigate what can often be considered a whirlpool of your emotions. But he’s gone left where he should’ve gone right somewhere the past six days. He’s not entirely sure where.

Kanda doesn’t like being reminded or becoming aware of his shortcomings so the anger he wanted you to feel just a few short moments ago, is suddenly bubbling up inside him for being too emotionally stunted to figure this out on his own. He refuses to call for help. Lavi and Allen would be of absolutely zero help – Lenalee and Alma on the other hand would kindly navigate the situation with him, however, the chance that either of the two are hanging with the two aforementioned idiots is way too high for him to risk it.

All there is left is to simply bite the bullet.

He gets up from the couch and stretches his back, feeling several joints pop into place. He doesn’t remember being this tense before he relaxed the muscles actively.

He won’t admit it to anyone, but he’s tiptoeing down the hallway, dreading the moment he reaches the door. He likes you the best when you’re at your brightest and bubbliest but he likes it the worst when you’re closed up – especially if it’s his fault.

With three concise raps, he announces his presence by the door. There’s no sound from the other side, so with furrowed brows he knocks again.

He’s rewarded with complete fuck all.

With a scowl he opens the door – the least you could do was answer him. He finds you wrapped up on your side of the bed, with your back turned towards him. He knows you’re not asleep; your routine is different than this plus it’s only been a few minutes.

He clicks his tongue as he rounds the bed to get to your side. Further proof that you’re not actually asleep is the way your face is scrunched up almost dramatically, to signal that you’re both angry and pretending. He shakes his head and pushes at your hips unceremoniously to make room for himself to sit on the edge. You let him without any complaints.

He sits there for a moment, silence falling heavy over the both of you. You’re clearly trying to control your breathing as best as you’re able, making it visible how performative it is. Kanda holds back from rolling his eyes.

“Stop acting like a child.”

You huff out a sound before pulling your duvet over your face – or you try to, but Kanda’s weight is stopping it by your chin. Maybe not the best way to start his apology, he notes.

“Get it together.”

You let out an imitation growl before you trash around to turn your back to him. He grabs your shoulder to stop you and sigh out, almost as dramatically as you’re being, “I’m sorry.”

It stops you from trying to turn away from him. Other than that, it doesn’t seem to do much else in Kanda’s favor. His hand that is still resting on your shoulder starts drawing mindless circles into it. He hopes it’s soothing; he wants to be soothing for you. He lets a few more beats pass before he talks again, “just please… open your eyes.”

You seem to listen to his plea, as you peek open one eye to scowl at him, “I won’t forgive you, dumbass.”

He can’t hold back the smirk. You have forgiven him by now if your reply is that. He leans down to kiss you but you pull back, “I don’t accept kisses from assholes.”

His face stays as close to you as you let him as he raises an eyebrow, “hm? That’s odd, given that you gave me a welcome home kiss a few hours ago.”

Your palm hits his face in a matter of seconds. He laughs and kisses your palm instead. You make a grossed-out sound and pull it back, “you’re infecting me with your dumbassery! Go away!”

He rolls his eyes but holds your hand, “if you’re already infected, I feel like you can give me a kiss anyways…”

You pout and huff out before you look at him, “be mindful next time you try to help me, okay?”

He nods, “I promise.”

You lean up the rest of the way and connect your lips. He’s happy he learned something new about you today; you’re his favorite thing to keep learning about, no matter how many years it’ll take. He’s looking forward to each and every one of them.

[kitsuga]

In the mirror. {June - The Ssum}

Description: 

A fic in which June struggles to paint a self-portrait. 

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Tags: angst, suicidal ideation, panic attack, of sorts; i didnt want to paint too heavy of a picture of one, not betad, not edited, the ssum, the ssum june, june the ssum  

Word Count: 2,197

A/N: Written on: June 8, 2024 

I love june i promise you i swear i can be trusted with june please if you just give me one chance just put him in my pocket just one chance i can be trusted i can be-- 

(i love june but i just couldnt not go angsty first i mean its *right* there) (i also wrote this before his last season i havent played yet shhhhh)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

Monet’s brush brings landscapes to life, lighting capturing the purest of emotions. Colour, composition, breathtaking stories—all of which June had spent most of his life admiring, studying, mimicking. 

June had taken it all-- his knowledge, his studies—made it his own. To be like Monet, he thought, would be one of the best feelings in the world. The release of emotions, the longing for connection, the deep-rooted need to be perceived just to make his life mean something—they all flowed through him, through his brush, through the paint on the canvas. However, June knew he’d never be Monet, nor would his life hold any real meaning to the world around him. 

That wouldn’t stop the brushstrokes.  

A self-portrait, he thought, something new. Monet made a few of his own—he didn’t like them, though. Monet thought them to be limitations, pieces that refused to work with the level of talent he knew he could produce. What could he do, though? There was no time left in his life to do them any justice, to truly show how his talent could grow; time that June also didn’t have. 

He knew his life wouldn’t be very long, with this sick body of his. All he could do is tough it out, do as he was told, and hope for the best—he didn’t even know if he wanted to fight anymore. So today, he will simply paint.  

A self-portrait, he thought, something to leave behind. A mirror sat at the table beside the easel, a layer of paint freshly dried on the canvas, filling the room with a nostalgic smell. To paint his face, he thought, shouldn’t be too hard. He thought he were good looking, it shouldn’t be too difficult of a task—a nice learning curve, he thought. Expand his repertoire, get a change of pace to further develop the skills needed for pieces he liked doing. He’d have to leave something behind, after all. Might as well make it beautiful; might as well give it all he’s got. 

The mirror sat there, waiting for his eyes to fall within it. His gaze travelled over mundane parts of his appearance; the drab hospital wear, loose around his neck. The sharpness of his jaw, the sickly flush of his skin. He swept his gaze over his lips, nose, the lack of luster in his hair and no life in his eyes. He stared at himself, tried to look for the missing sparkle in his eye—staring too long as the rest of his appearance in the corners of his vision were starting to twist and distort. Snapping his eyes shut, shaking his head, he rid himself of the sensation and turned his attention back to the canvas his wrist rested upon.  

He could do it; it was fine—don't overthink it, don’t get hung up on it. The brush dipped into the paint, mixing colours among the palate. Start slow, start easy. The loose collar of his shirt started to take form on the canvas—drab, monotone, familiar. A break, a breath. Carefully, the shape of his neck, head, face started to appear—no details, no features. Then, the individual strands of his hair, all messy and unkempt, no matter how hard he had tried to smooth them out in the mirror. Blonde, bright—not like the sun, encompassing others and providing light and happiness, but gentle, muted—like a distant star, far away and long gone by the time it reaches your eyes. Perhaps that meant his whole life should be considered a star—maybe his paintings would take to the sky and paint their own constellation of his life for someone else to see, since he had nothing else to offer.  

A person with no face, the canvas housed. The details were going to be the hardest part, he thought. Might as well take his time, study hard, give it his best shot. His eyes drifted over to the mirror once again, following the lines of his features while the sound of the scratching of a pencil followed along. A curve here, his beauty mark there, he was a little afraid to look at the penciled results and closed his eyes before turning back to his work. Sitting back, peeking just slightly, he took a look at the level of his skills. Not bad, June thought to himself, it could just be... better. It was fine, he thought, not that it would matter; he wasn’t going to make waves in the world that required a good representation.  

Another break, another breath. His health was starting to slow him down; he’d fight it until he couldn’t. He’d rather finish this portrait, toss it to the back, and try not to think of it again. Slowly, carefully, the brush danced across the surface, his face taking shape. The curve of his nose, the lines of his lips, the dark circles beneath his eyes. Hours had passed, the sun had set, but the eyes made of paint were as lifeless as the ones that looked back at them. June sat back with a sigh, wiped the stray paint from his face, and took a long look at the acrylic mirror in front of him.  

What had happened? His hair seemed far too grey compared to his blonde, his eyes seemed to curve differently; his features seemed too sharp, too sunken, aged. His beauty mark had still been there—maybe he was getting tired and simply made mistakes. June took another look, staring so hard that the paint version of him started to morph further, seemingly looking more and more like his father rather than a portrait of his own likeness.  

Is that who he was? His father? Longing for the freedom of the wind and the sea, wanting a simple life with simple means. A life with a more holistic approach to his illness, a life with less dollar signs attached to material means. Was he his father? Maybe he was meant to be; the need to hate and distance himself from wealth or those who have it, the need to be so organic he couldn’t tell himself from the soil he would be buried in. It was a scary sight, to see his father in place of his own presence; who truly was June? Was this him? 

His heart started to race, a slow panic starting to bubble up. He rubbed his eyes, trying desperately to wipe away whatever fatigue must have been doing to him. The image of his father kept staring back at him, no matter how many times June had tried to rub his eyes, blink it away. He brought his brush back to the canvas, slightly shaking; he started again, painting quickly, a little rougher, over previous lines to attempt his own image again. He worked quickly, his heart starting a slow crescendo into his ears as the world around him began to muffle. The corners of his eyes started to grow a bit blurry, tunnel vision focusing on the acrylic sitting in front of him that fueled an impeding pit in his stomach. A little paint here, a shadow there; a new colour here, a messy line there. June tried to fix his image in record time, not worrying about the sloppiness or potential of drop in his skill. His body temperature started to rise, a bead of sweat dripping down his face; he wiped it away and sat back with a sigh of relief, hoping his work would be correct this time. He turned to look out of the window, a break full of unease. The moon was now shining down on him, reminding him just how small he was in the dark. He turned back to the painting. 

What had happened? His heart truly started to race now, the rapid thumping echoing heavy in his chest and all throughout his veins. His body shook as his eyes darted around the person staring back at him. Dark, longer hair, feminine features, eyes holding no lust for life—a broken image of stage lights and nightlife. June’s panic started to rise, the image in front of him morphing further into his mother, no hint of his own likeness left. 

Is that who he was? His mother? Simply falling into line with what is told to him, what is expected of him. A life full of longing for luxury and status; a demand for respect. A life with a price for everything, without bothering to look at the bill. Was he his mother? Maybe he was meant to be; the need to indebt himself to others, to fight tooth and nail in a harsh world to look good but never be truly happy; the need to be known, recognized, safe in a small box like a puppet on strings. It was a scary sight, to see his mother in place of his own presence; who truly was June? Was this him? 

The air felt far too heavy, a weight on his chest. June started to feel like he couldn’t breathe, taking in and letting out heavy breaths, all rapid to match the speed of his heartbeat. It was a downward spiral, the world had felt like. His body had gotten far too hot—or maybe it was cold? He broke out in a cold sweat, shaking profusely, leading to him dropping his paintbrush onto the floor. What was going on? Why couldn’t he get his portrait to look like him—why was it looking like one parent or the other? The painted mother had seemed to move, turning to look June in the eye and call out to him. 

“June?” He could hear her voice echo in his head, as the painted lips did not move. “Who truly is June?” 

His limbs felt heavy, stiff, tied up in string in a neat little bow. He would dance, nod, open the jaw strings to answer with an unfought agreeance. Who truly was June? Was June anyone? Was June anything? Was June truly real? 

What would June leave behind in this world? Nothing, nothing at all—for he was not June. He was a puppet, a doll, an empty shell for his parents to place pieces of themselves in and silence any portion they didn’t agree with. Any original thoughts, wants, needs, desires—nothing of June’s would be respected or acknowledged. He took up quickly, knocking the stool he sat upon over with a loud bang. He threw his hands into his hair, tugging at it slightly while he tried to hold the pain in his head—to keep the thoughts from spilling out. He could hear his mother, his father, swirling around him and reminding him that he was not his; his life would never be his own, for he was sick, weak, needed to be taken care of and indebted to the world. He was nothing extraordinary or special, let alone something unique—let alone someone free.  

The room started to spin, June’s body in a full-blown reaction. He started crying out, strangled noises, anything that might stop the pain of realization—anything that might stop the pain of subjugation. The painting in front of him mocked him, teased him, berated him—shut it up, shut it up!  

June dipped his fingers into black paint and swiped. He swiped, scratched, carved, lines across the faces in the canvas; covered eyes could no longer scrutinize, covered mouths could no longer command. His chest hurt, his body hurt, his soul hurt. Why? Why had a simple portrait turned out this way? Why had a peaceful night turned out like this? Why did he ever think he could leave a mark behind in this sea of stars? 

Who truly was June? He knocked the easel over, splattered paint creating the portrait’s crime scene. He had never been particularly emotional, certainly never to the point of a spontaneous melt-down; why did it hurt? Why did it hurt so bad to see his parents in place of himself? Why did he only see them in the first place? He held his face in his hands and broke out into a sob, standing in place as the room spun around him. He sobbed, cried, trying to expel the pain from his heart and his head and return to a point where he didn’t reflect on his life, he simply lived as he was told—as he was expected. It was a mistake to try, to even think about following Monet’s footsteps—even worse to create a portrait after Monet himself would shy away from his own. 

Something beside him called out softly, vile. Slowly, cautiously, he let his tears hit the floor as he removed his hands, looking towards the voice that called out to him. 

In the mirror held June—was it June? With black paint smeared across his eyes and teardrops staining his face further, making him unrecognizable. The person in the mirror gave him a wicked smile, putting a finger to their lips and hushing him—telling him to be a good boy and listen, though June himself had not moved. 

Who truly was June? 

[bakugousmyboy]

Midoriya, Bakugou, & Todoroki Headcanons

Headcanons that no one asked for!

Next up is Uraraka, Tsuyu, & Momo!

Enjoy!

Midoriya Izuku

Really likes sweets but gave them up to focus on his physical advancement

Is The Master™ of the perfect blanket burrito

Has excessive knowledge of the United States because he wanted to know exactly what All Might’s special moves were named after

Had an Eraserhead phase when he was a kid & consequently has Eraserhead neck bandages/bindings & goggles, both of which he has in a box in his closet along with a rare Eraserhead poster

Aizawa knows about said box because of the dorms & secretly put one of his spare pairs of goggles in there & is waiting for the day when Izuku opens the box so he can deny putting them there & see what Izuku says

Wants a rabbit so bad, like gosh golly gee, give this little baby a rabbit

Is very worried about his mother but doesn’t want to make her worried that he’s worried, he calls this the Worry Cycle

He actually really likes drawing. He’s drawn costume ideas for his classmates, animals he finds interesting, & so much All Might

Doodles his classmates during class when he’s not taking notes, usually whenever he hears them answer a question 

Has bunch of little angry Bakugous cuz he’ll doodle him whenever he grumbles 

Bakugou is who he’s best at drawing because he grumbles so much

Bakugou Katsuki

Will bite KitKat bars as a whole when he’s pissed instead of breaking them then eating them like a civilized human being, but only when he’s mad

Likes to look people dead in the eyes & eat them like that sometimes because he knows it makes them uncomfortable

Secretly really likes animals because they like him, calm him down when he’s upset, & keep him from feeling alone & unloved

He likes dogs because of their energy but he loves cats because of how sassy but sweet they are

Has been known to stop on his way home from school if he sees a cat & has intense staredowns with them

Will pet them regardless of if he wins or loses said staring contest

Cooking is his stress reliever

His counters are covered in sweets during exam week 

He can’t eat all the sweets he makes so sometimes he’ll go on super covert missions to leave them outside of his classmates’ dorm rooms

Hums the Mission Impossible theme while on his covert ops

Saw Todoroki get teary-eyed when he left a small cake outside his dorm one time so he makes a point to always leave something for Shouto when he’s got extras

Todoroki Shouto

Is really self-conscious about his smile & laugh

Doesn’t understand why people are intimidated by him? Like ??? He’s just doing his best???

Has considered dying his hair all white or at least dying his red something else

He is very sentimental

Receiving home cooked food is an honor to him because he recognizes the effort & care put into said food

Another reason homemade food is so dear to him is that it always reminds him of his mother

Sitting down to eat surrounded by those he cares about never fails to put him in an amazing mood

Give this precious boy a good luck charm & he will protect it with his life, remember it always, & somehow return it in better condition than he received it in

Has a bunch of old tubes of scar cream that he doesn’t use anymore because he’s accepted that his scar, like his red hair & blue eye, are part of who he is

Knows origami & not just like the simple stuff, this boy is advanced

Likes movies that are so bad they’re good, The Room is one of his absolute favorites & he can quote it

~REQUESTS ARE OPEN~

[inari-zaheer]

Hi! Could I request a fic for Ekko? I feel like the boy needs more love

Angst with happy ending please! I have no idea for plot tho, maybe someone he thought was dead but came back? Maybe her (reader) protecting Ekko and getting hurt? Idk, just have fun!! (Smut would also be ok 😉) ((sorry if my ask is too much tho! You can tots deny it!)

I Thought You Were Gone

Pairing:Ekko x Reader

TW:Mention of bad thoughts and giving up

Word Count:964

Song Suggestion:Crossfire - Stephen

A/N:I was on a really sad/angsty mood when I wrote this lol, so I’m definitely thinking on making a part 2, anyway, enjoy♥️

—————————————

Things were going crazy in both sides of the bridge recently.

With Silco doing more deals with shimmer, meaning more shipments where sent and recieved everyday, Jinx stealing Hextech and now with Vi coming back from what everybody thought was the dead and bringing a piltie with her, Ekko was going crazy.

Of course he had you by his side for everything he needed, specially when it came to taking decisions involving the sanctuary while he was away, and thats what he had tasked you with before going to what you thought was some kind of suicide mission.

You never really been to Piltover yourself for long times, nor have you talked to someone from there besides your new "friend" Caitlyn, but it was common knowledge that they never had good thoughts abou any undercity folk.

So, in contrary to what he had made you swear not to do you gave the leader function to Scar and went after them, as you had a bad feeling on your gut about the whole situation.

When you arrived at the bridge it was kinda late as some type of combat seemed to have happened between them and some enforcers that were now lifeless on the ground, but as you were starting to get worried you finally saw Ekko fighting Jinx in the middle of the bridge.

He was handling everything with such maestry that you thought he would not need your help, but you soon saw you were mistaken when, upon thinking he had the upper hand he got distracted enough not to notice the blue haired girls arming a bomb right beside them.

Your actions were quicker than your thoughts when you suddently went with your hoverboard right in the direction of the bomb, separating both of them in the process, but it was obvious you did it out of pure instinct not thinking about having a literall bomb on your hands, you tried to throw it on the river but it was to late.

"Y/N NO!" was the last thing you heard before you lost your senses.

If Ekko was already mad at Jinx now he was enraged, not letting himself be distracted this time he continued to hit JInx until he was sure she was unconcious, he wanted to hurt her further, but he wansn't like the monsters of the undercity he swore to destroy.

He went down the bridge as fast es he could, not caring anymore about the stupid gemstone or Vi's shouts on the other side of the smoke curtain, his heart was beatting as fast as ever as he tried to look out for you in the dark waters, only for an unexpected shot on his foot made him lose his balance and fall on the concrete floor below him.

Now disabled and afraid that something worse might have actually happened to you he tried as much as he could to stay quiet in the middle of his panick atack as to not make himself known to Silco's goons that were up the bridge, only hoping that by a miracle you were going to appear in front of him safe and sound, or that a firelight would come looking for him.

------------------------------------------------------

In the following week after Heimerdinger helped him get safely back into the sanctuary he couldn’t do anything besides cry and shout at everyone that even dared to metion your name in his presence.

He kept screaming at Scar on the first hours after he came back for letting you go out after him, his friend only heard with his mouth shut, he knew Ekko would prefer the worst torture, prefer to kill himself instead of having to lose you, he didnt gave him a comforting speech either, he knew it wasnt what his friend needed now.

The following days only seemed to get worse, shit hit the fan when Jinx exploded the council, which made him blame himself even more for not trying to get the gem back, and he missed you, he missed your touch, your scent, your voice, the way that if you were there beside him right now you would have made him feel better with your comforting words and reassuring touches all over him.

He couldn’t eat anymore, sleep anymore, he lost himself on an abyss of sadness, he just couldn’t handle your loss anymore as he only thought of giving everything up, but when he was about to go to the upper floor of his chambers Scar bolted through the door saying that Ekko needed to go to the sewer doors.

Scar ignored his friend’s demands to just leave him alone and promptly dragged him all the way down the three on a hoverboard against his will, his tiredness were slowly going back to anger when he saw the most unexpected but also relieving sigh he have seen in his entire life.

You slowly made your way through the curious crowd of firelights that were just as surprised as him by your return, upon seeing your state, with bandages all over your body and a cane helping you to move it was clear that you were on your worst shape, but the only thing that mattered to him was that you were alive.

He immediatly ran to hug you "Oh my fucking god Y/N is it really you? Fuck I though you were gone for good i just-" "O-ow babe" "Oh shit I'm really sorry i hurt you, but is just...i thought you were...but now youre here and, and" You embraced him through his tears as carefully as possible not no hurt yourself even further but giving your lover the confort he was needing after what seemed to be the worse days of his life.

"Come on, help me get upstaisr so you can take proper care of me and i can explain to you what happened, sounds good?"

"Sounds just perfect"

[simpforhoon]

just you. (p.js) *ೃ༄

pairing: soft dom! jay × female reader

genre: smut, fluff, soulmate au! kind of angsty it has a happy ending I swear (praise, making out, protected sex, oral (f-receiving)).

summary: in a world where everyone gets the name of their soulmate tattooed on their wrists when they turn 18, finding out your best friend is your soulmate was not how you planned your 18th birthday to go. now, what’s so bad about that you might ask? you see, jay despises the thought of soulmates. but maybe he doesn’t despise them so much when it comes to you.

please note, this work is purely that of fiction. and not meant to represent what the enhypen members are like in real life.

A/N: guys no why am I so soft,, anyway I’ve been wanting to write this for a while now, so I hope you enjoy!! and I'm reposting this now, as this didnt get a lot of notes on my old account cause of all the reporting and stuff!

word count: 3.4k

warnings: mentions of heartbreak, crying, mentions of food.

1 week ago

you bit your nails as you paced up and down your room, a nervous habit you’d picked up in your junior year of high school whilst dealing with the tremendous stress and pressure school put on you. well lucky for you, you had graduated now and your 18th birthday was just around the corner. specifically, exactly a week from now.

your best friend jay sat on your bed staring at you with amusement written all over his face as he quietly observed you, before moving up to stop you and pull your hands away from your face. “you’re going to wear yourself out” he mumbled softly, pulling you to sit next to him and rubbing your shoulder in a comforting manner.

“I know I know, I’m just nervous, what if they’re all the way on the other side of the world? or even worse, what if they’re someone I know??” the panicked expression on your face was seemingly too much for jay to handle as before you knew it, he had almost rolled off your bed, laughing his ass off at you.

you see, your “dearest” best friend jay never believed in soulmates. he himself never actually got a name on his wrist, a sign that his soulmate had not reached the age to get theirs. to say he was ecstatic would be an understatement as he was at a party that very night, hooking up with a random girl before going over to your house the next morning with a massive hangover and a sullen expression.

it hurt you to see him that way, hooking up with random people, praying that he wouldnt run into his soulmate. and it hurt even more when you thought of how his soulmate was probably so excited to meet him even if they didn’t know him yet.

if only you knew where you would be a week later, wishing it was you who never met him.

present day

the time on your phone read 11:57, and jay had shown up to your house at exactly 11:30, punctual as always, giving up his usual saturday night parties to spend the night before your special day with you instead. he held your hand in his, one thumb running up and down the expanse of your knuckles soothingly, the only thing grounding you in the tense moments before what was basically the biggest moment of your life. your eyes never met his once, only flickering from the clock to your wrist every few seconds, almost as if it would appear before time if you stared long enough.

12:00 a.m.

it was almost as if everything stopped in that moment as the words appeared on your skin. the crickets stopped chirping, that one car alarm outsode your house stopped beeping and both you and Jay stopped breathing, even if it was just for a few seconds. one by one, letter by letter, black ink slowly trailed up the soft skin on your clean wrist, marking your skin for the rest of eternity. you watched with bated breath as tbe letters curved their way into your skin, into your soul.

“P-A-R-K” looks like your soulmate would have the same last name as your best friend. “J-O-N-” that was when the realisation of what was about to happen dawned upon you. “no, no, no, no” was all you could think. “this wasn’t supposed to happen”

meeting jay’s eyes for a split second, you could see the shock on his face, the same shock you knew was written all over your face at that very moment. yanking your hand out of his warmer one, you stared at the 2 words displayed on your wrist. “park jongseong” you whispered as a one lone tear ran down your cheek, falling to you chin before disappearing into the soft material of your sweater.

this prompted jay to push up his own sleeve, the words that seem to have appeared on his wrist confirmed what you both already knew by that point. jay park, your best friend since you were 5, your rock, your everything, was your soulmate. if the situation were anything but this, you would have been jumping for joy, ecstatic that your soulmate was the man you’d grown up with your whole life. but unfortunately, that was not the case.

“_______” he whispered, voice hoarse as he held your hand in his again. gripping it tightly this time so you wouldn’t be able to let go this time. not that you wanted to anyway. “jay” you whispered back, attempting to smile at him, despite the tears that were threatening to overflow at any moment. “I-I need time to think” he said, so softly, his eyes full of nothing but remorse. “I understand jay, take your time, don’t rush okay?” you replied, squeezing his hand in reassurance. he wistfully smiled at you one last time as he pushed himself off your bed and walked out of your bedroom, closing the door with a small ‘click’, leaving you alone in the darkness of your room, mind racing and wondering what were you were going to do with this newfound information.

you fell asleep after much tossing and turning, your mind full of nothing but jay and his name that was now tattooed into the inside of your wrist. you were woken up by the bright smile of your parents, you mother holding a plate of pancakes and wishing you a happy birthday. the sight alone was enough to make you burst into tears as you wrapped your arms around her, seeking her familiar scent and comfort after the rough night you had. your parents seemed shocked, but did not press you to open up, wrapping their arms around you as they attempted to comfort you.

your mom was no foolish woman, as she seems to have caught on to what was bothering you on your special day. “its about your soulmate isn’t it?” she asked as she placed a glass of your favourite chocolate smoothie in front of you, wiping her hands on her apron. you looked up at her, disbelief written all over your face as she chuckled at you. “how did you know?” you asked as she smiled slyly at you. “I have my ways, and besides, I’m your mother” she replied with a wink. you groaned, dramatically resting your head on the counter as she laughed and gave in. “I saw jay walk out of your room last night with tears streaming down his face, and considering you woke up crying too, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what went down there”.

“you should talk it out with him sweetie, he’s not just your soulmate, he’s your best friend. despite how he feels about this whole fate thing, I’m sure the both of you will be okay.” her words reassured you as you grabbed your backpack, and walked through your front door. not even 2 minutes later you heard the biggest scream and you were tackled into a hug. giggling, you wrapped your arms around the taller boy as he squeezed you tightly. “happy birthday ______!” he said as he let go of you and continued your walk to school. “thanks sunoo” you said, smiling at the younger boy who had the biggest grin on his face.

“soooooo” he began, looking at you with an expectant expression on his face. you pursed your lips, already predicting the question that was due to escape his mouth any second from now. “jay” you said, cutting him off before he could even open his mouth. “JAY?!?!!?” he said, a little too loudly, mouth agape as he processed the information. you shrugged as he linked his arm with yours, understanding that you didnt want to talk about it.

luckily, no one pressed you about your soulmate for the rest of the day, warded off by sunoo’s glare the moment they looked like they were going to ask. you sat next to jay in all your classes, the atmosphere tense and awkward between the two of you. everyone seemed to have figured our what happened by that alone, your normally boisterous voices muted and soft. you went out after school with sunoo and riki, your mood heightened by the laughs and jokes of the two bickering boys.

when you got home, the house was eerily quiet, your parents nowhere in sight, all the lights turned off save the one in your living room. and there on the sleek grey sofa sat Jay, looking down at his hands as he anxiously played around with the rings he always wore. your footsteps alerted him of your presence, as he shot up off your sofa to greet you with a crooked smile on his face, black hair sticking up in every direction.

you smiled at him, already preparing yourself for the worst, as he walked towards you. “your parents have gone out, they handed me the keys and told me to come and talk to you if I wanted, and-” he cut himself off in the middle of his sentence, taking a deep breath and holding your hand. here goes nothing he thought. “I want to try. this whole soulmate thing I mean. maybe i wouldnt be this way if it was anyone else, but it’s you, my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you.” he mumbled out the last part, but it was still clear enough for you to hear. you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face at his words, his own face breaking out into a grin at your expression. you reached up on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands went around your waist.

he buried his face in your hair, your soft vanilla scent calming his racing heart, and that was when he realised how much you really meant to him. he loved when you would always being him snacks after soccer practice, he loved when you let him lay his head on your lap and you ran your hands through his hair, he loved seeing the expressions you made when you ate his food, he loved you.

“I made something for you” he said, pulling away from your embrace, leading you to your kitchen and making you sit down on the counter. he grabbed a plate of your favourite pasta and a fork before lifting up a mouthful and holding it out to feed it to you. you smiled, wrapping your lips around the fork as the flavours exploded in your mouth. “oh my gosh, this is good, you’ve really outdone yourself.” he smiled at the complement before pressing a kiss to your cheek and muttering a little “happy birthday love”, leaving your face feeling hot and an uncontrollable smile on your face.

the rest of the evening went by in hin feeding you food and taking a few notes of it himself, lots of little cheek kisses, before the two of you settled down on the couch to watch a movie. it seemed like jay had gotten over his awkwardness as he pulled you to sit between his legs the moment the movie started. you looked back at him in shock, wondering when he got so bold before he pressed a kiss to your lips and told you to focus on the screen.

it might not have been the perfect first kiss, but it was with jay and that was enough. he played with your hair throughout the movie, and moved it aside at one point, pressing little kisses along the expanse of your neck. it was when he landed his lips on one particular spot that you let out a little noise, one you never even knew you could make that made him sit up a little straighter.

it was almost as if a switch flipped within him as he tightened his grip around your waist, one hand slipping up your hoodie to caress the skin near your waist. “I didn’t know you could make such pretty noises baby” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “well i didn’t know i could either” you whispered back, the realisation of what was about to happen making your body feel like it was on fire.

“are you sure you want this? we don’t have to do anything you dont want to sweetheart” he said, pulling away with a kiss to your cheek. you shifted so that you were facing him, legs wrapped around his waist and you reached your hands up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m sure jay, theres no one I’d rather do this with than you.” that was all the affirmation he needed, as within seconds you were being dragged to your bedroom by an overexcited jay.

he pressed you up against your room door, hands coming up to lift your thighs and wrap them around his waist, your core meeting his very obvious bulge. taking advantage of the gasp that left you, he allowed his tongue to skip into your mouth, taking control of every aspect of the kiss. pulling away, he brought you to your bed, gently letting you down onto the mattress, and reaching up to pull your hoodie off you.

“so beautiful” he whispered as he reached behind you to pull your bra off, before lifting his own arms to pull his own shirt off, leaving his body on display for you. just for you. he reached down to tug one of your nipples into his mouth, gently sucking and wrapping his tongue around the sensitive bud, his actions leaving your mouth open in a silent moan.

within minutes, both of you were left completely naked as jay continued to trail his lips down your body, pressing little kisses to your inner thigh before his mouth finally met your core, the smallest motion of his lips leaving you breathless and squirming. “stay still sweetheart, good girls don’t move around so much”. his words sent vibrations spreading throughout your body, not doing anything to help with the heat that was coursing through your veins.

his tongue delved in and out of your dripping hole, one of his hands rubbing your clit while the other held your legs open for him. “jay- i- I’m gonna-” but he was gone the moment the words fell from your mouth. and he was a sight to see. your juices mixed with his, drool and spit dripped down his chin, as he ran his tongue over his lips with a smirk on his face.

“oh so the baby wants to cum? don’t worry love, I’m going to make you feel so good”. he reached into his jacket and pulled out a condom before rolling it on and lining himself I with your entrance. he grasped your chin gently, pulling you up to look at him and planting a loving kiss on your lips. “I love you so much sweetheart, so so much” he whispered, pulling away from your lips. “I love you too jay” you said back, watching as he smiled once, before intertwining your hands and then, pushing himself into you.

nothing had ever felt as good in that moment as he gently, softly pushed himself inside. the feeling was euphoric, having your soulmate inside you in such an intimate manner. your bodies moulding together perfectly, bursts of colour lighting up the back of your eyelids as your eyes closed at the feeling of him in you. he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, not wanting to hurt you. but at your signal, he began moving faster, groans and moans escaping both your lips, finding pleasure and love in each other.

it didn’t take long for you to reach your high at all, his length hitting you in all the right places, leading you to ride out your high much faster than you expected, jay following soon after. he finished inside the condom, reaching out to pull it off and throw it away, before walking to your bathroom and grabbing a wet cloth to clean you up with.

he was greeted with the sight of your tired smile as he returned, gently cleaning you before tossing the rag and gathering you up in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “does this mean you’re mine now?” he asked, reaching down to bury his head in your hair, his hands absent-mindedly tracing shapes and figures on your bare shoulder. “it does if it means you’re mine too”. he smiled at your response, pulling the blanket over the two of you as you drifted off to sleep in the arms of the one person who would stay with you forever.

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you drank enough water today! ♡♡♡

[yellowsuitcase]

Pansy’s Plot // Draco Malfoy

Request: hi there!! I just wanted to say i absolutely adore your writing, and was wondering if you could write something where the reader and draco are dating but pansy is jealous so she lies and makes draco think you cheated on him but in actual fact you didnt and it’s just super angsty and then fluffy. The prompts i chose were 94, 85, 55, 14, 1 and 34 of course i don’t mind at all if you don’t want to use them or leave a few out :)

A/N: Hello! Sorry this took so long to get written, but I wanted to make sure it was good so I took my time. Also, my arthritis was making writing a very painful process, with that being said, I likely won’t post anything else this week until the weekend because I need to rest my hand. But I hope you enjoy this and to the person who requested, I hope it’s everything you wanted! Side note, I did change some of the prompts to fit the story and I didn’t use 55.

Summary: Pansy tricks Draco into believing his girlfriend (Y/N) cheated on him with Blaise. Angst and fluff follow.

Warning(s): Swearing, physical beating up/hitting, non-consensual kissing/touching

Word Count: 4.6k

Prompts (list): 1, 14, 34, 85, 99

Y/N trudged into the Great Hall, looking miserable. She’d just had the worst potions class of her life. Snape had been teaching them how to make a memory potion, but she had mistakenly added the powdered sage before the stewed mandrake, causing the brew to bubble violently and splatter her Slytherin robes with putrid yellow liquid. It didn’t help that along with having unflattering stains, she now smelled like rotten roses. 

As she dragged herself to the Slytherin table, she felt stares on the back of her head. She rolled her eyes and positioned her chin over her shoulder, instantly zeroing in on the Ravenclaw boy who was pointing his thumb at her and laughing with his mates. With a discreet flick of her fir wood wand, Y/N sent the boy’s noodles flying onto his face with a loud splat. She smirked to herself while tucking her wand back into her pocket. She continued walking and took her place at the table next to her boyfriend. 

“Hello, Draco,” she said sweetly as she plopped down onto the bench. Her boyfriend looked up from his meal.

“Bloody hell, Y/N. Where have you been? And what happened to you?” he asked, his face scrunching up in disgust. It took everything in his willpower not to slide away from his potion covered girlfriend.

“Sorry, I’m a bit late. I fucked up in potions. Don’t worry, though, I’ll get cleaned up after I have my lunch. Besides, I hardly see you anymore with O.W.Ls coming up. I didn’t want to skip out on you,” she explained, shifting her gaze from the food in front of her to Draco's distasteful looking face. 

“What, Malfoy? You don’t like the smell of a failed memory potion?” she questioned while playfully leaning closer to him. Draco couldn’t take it anymore; he scrambled to scoot away from her. This made Y/N begin to giggle. She pushed her head behind her ear and batted her eyelids mockingly. 

“Why won’t you give me a kiss, love?” she asked with pouty lips, her hands making grabbing motions at the blonde boy. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly interrupted by a snooty voice from across the table. 

“Perhaps it’s because you smell worse than a dirty house-elf, Y/N,” sneered Pansy Parkinson, a dark-haired Slytherin girl who was particularly nasty. Draco watched as Y/N’s back straightened, and her angry eyes flickered to the hard-faced girl. He knew this look well, considering she’d given it to him quite a few times throughout their two-year relationship. If it had been anyone else receiving Y/N’s glare, he might’ve felt a bit scared for them. But this was Pansy, and not many were fond of her.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Parkinson. But please, by all means, let’s hear your thoughts. Frankly, I didn’t think you had any up in that empty head of yours,” Y/N retorted, her voice calm and collected. Pansy’s face went redder than a tomato. She angrily stood up from her seat, leaving her untouched sandwich sitting on the table as she stormed out of the hall, her hair swishing behind her.

Y/N scoffed. “What a wanker. Honestly, hasn’t she got anything better to do?” she questioned, voicing her irritation. Draco slid close to his girlfriend and gently put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them firmly. He felt the tension begin to leave her muscles.

“Don’t let her get to you, love. It’s only Parkinson. Since when did you get so worked up over what she says?” Draco asked. 

Y/N remained silent. Truth be told, Pansy had been tormenting her for nearly a month now. Her usual snide remarks had never caused much of a ruse within Y/N before, but that was until she’d started attacking her and Draco’s relationship. Whenever Y/N would say goodnight to Draco and head up to the girls’ dormitory, she would be greeted by Pansy sitting next to her snotty friends. They’d sit on their beds and snicker when Y/N walked in. They’d always say things like, “You know, Draco only likes you because you’re easy,” or “He pities you, Y/N.” Not to mention all the times they'd called her a slag. At first, she was able to ignore it. But after numerous weeks of hearing such degrading and hurtful words, she’d begun to believe them. 

Telling Draco wasn’t an option. Y/N was ashamed; she didn’t want Draco to be disappointed in her for letting Pansy get to her. The look on his face if she told him would be too much to stomach.

“Y/N? What’s wrong, babydoll?” Draco asked. His girlfriend’s silence was concerning him. Y/N turned to him and forced a smile onto her lips. “Nothing,” she assured him, “I’m fine.”

Draco looked skeptical but dismissed his worry and leaned in for a quick kiss. Y/N kissed him back, but after a few moments, she pulled away. “I’d better go get cleaned up before Transfiguration. McGonagall wouldn’t be pleased if I came in like this,” she laughed while gesturing to her soiled uniform. Draco smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll see you in the common room after dinner, yeah?” he asked as Y/N stood up from the table and pushed her hair out of her face. She willed herself to look up and shake her head, yes. Her boyfriend still looked apprehensive. “See you then,” she choked out as she spun on her foot and made haste to leave the Great Hall. 

--------

Later in the school day, Y/N was leaving her last class, Herbology, and was walking through the mysteriously empty corridors, the thought of a relaxing bath filling her head, when she ran smack into someone. She nearly toppled over from the impact, but the person she’d bumped into quickly seized her arm and pulled her close to their chest. Y/N instantly felt uncomfortable and pushed herself off of the tall figure. Upon looking up, she saw that Blaise Zabini had been the one to save her ass from hitting the floor. She’d never been one to forgo manners as many other Slytherins did, so she nodded her head and said, “Thanks, Zabini.”

He smirked down at her, his white teeth showing. “No problem, sweetheart,” he purred. A cold shudder ran down Y/N’s spine. She didn’t like this situation one bit; however, when she tried to distance herself and Blaise, he grabbed her upper arm and tugged her towards him. She found herself once again pressed up against the boy’s chest. 

“Where you going, babydoll?” he asked. Bile rose up from Y/N’s stomach. When Draco called her babydoll, it was cute, but when the word fell from Blaise’s lips, she felt thoroughly sick. She wiggled her arm, trying desperately to remove it from his grasp. But it was to no avail. His fingers were wrapped around her bicep so firmly she could practically feel the bruises beginning to form.

Y/N continued to struggle against him. “Let go of me, you prat,” she grunted. Blaise didn't heed her words; instead, he stared at something behind her. Y/N looked over her shoulder, but before she had the chance to register who was there, Blaise took her chin in his fingers and forced his lips onto hers. Y/N squealed in shock and tried to use her free arm to push Blaise off. She felt fear overtake her entire body as she fought hard to get out of his clutches. But the boy was too powerful. Luckily for Y/N, she remembered what her father had always told her to do if a male ever tried to violate her. Hit him where it hurts. Without a moment's hesitation, she lifted her foot and rammed her knee into Blaise’s crotch with as much force as she could muster. 

He grunted painfully and instantly let go of her, his hands flying to protect his private parts from any further harm. “Fucking bitch!” he yelled. Y/N backed away from him in fear. She was about to run away when she remembered that he had been staring behind her. Y/N turned around to see Pansy holding a camera in one hand and fresh pictures in the other. Her heart raced when she put two and two together. She’d been set up, and she was angry. Y/N whipped out her wand and pointed it at Pansy's head. Wordlessly, she sent the camera and pictures flying from her grasp and into her own. This didn’t please the Slytherin, who took out her own wand and angrily shouted, “Flipendo!” Before Y/N could react, she was sent flying backward, letting the camera and pictures fall from her hands. 

When she fell, her head hit the floor hard enough that it bounced. She stayed still as pain pulsed through her entire skull. As she was recovering from the intense blow, Pansy strutted over to her. She laughed as she stood over her and glared down. “Look at you—what a pathetic excuse for a Slytherin. Can’t even properly defend yourself,” she sneered. Y/N, fueled by anger, jumped to her feet and shouted the first spell that came to mind without thinking. “Incarcerous!” Ropes shot from the tip of her wand and wrapped around Pansy’s chest and arms, rendering her defenseless and immobile. Adrenaline was still rushing in her bloodstream when a deep voice called out to her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” it bellowed. Y/N’s heart sank; she recognized that voice to be Severus Snape’s. Sighing, she tucked her wand into her robe and glanced to her left to see the greasy-haired professor. His robe was flowing behind him as he walked rapidly towards her. “Detention,” he declared. Y/N knew better than to argue; the last time she tried, she’d only earned herself another week of writing lines in Snape’s office. After nodding to her potions professor, she turned to go but then spotted the camera. It was in Blaise’s hands. He simply smirked at her and sauntered away. 

No, no, no, Y/N thought as her heart sank. She felt as though she was rooted to the stone floor. It was obvious what Pansy and Blaise were planning to do with those photos. They had thought this out; they were going to show them to Draco. After she realized the shit she was in, Y/N knew there was only one thing she could do at this point. Get to Draco before they did. 

She bent her knees and took off sprinting through the hallway, determination pumping through her body. But she was stopped short by the sound of her name coming from Snape. Reluctantly and defeatedly, she willed her feet to slow down. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Snape called out to her. Y/N spun around slowly, a grimace plastered to her face. “My dorm,” she said uncertainly; her statement sounded more like a question.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be coming with me to my office to serve your detention.” Y/N grumbled to herself angrily. She still couldn’t understand why Snape was never as nice to her as he was towards the rest of the Slytherin house. Y/N watched as Snape freed Pansy from her restraints. She got to her feet and thanked her head of house before strolling down the corridor, making sure to leer at Y/N when she passed. The urge to sock her in the jaw was strong, but Y/N refrained and followed after Snape, hoping to get detention over with as soon as possible.

--------

Draco was fiddling with a stray thread on his sweater when Pansy sat down next to him. He gave her a look. Pansy had a devilish smirk on her face. “Hello, Draco,” she cooed. The blonde shifted his weight so that he was farther away from Pansy. “What do you want?” he questioned. “I’m waiting for Y/N.”

Pansy’s head fell back as she let out a shrill laugh. “You won’t give a damn about her once you see this,” she declared cheerfully. Draco looked at her quizzically. “See what?” he hesitantly asked. Pansy wiggled her eyebrows and reached into her pocket. Slowly, she pulled out two pictures and passed one to Draco. His eyes studied her face before they downshifted to the photo in his lap. Draco’s confusion only grew when he saw what the picture was showing. Y/N and Blaise were pressed up against one another. Her hand was touching his chest, and he was caressing her cheek. 

“What the fuck is this, Parkinson?” Draco spat violently. Pansy said nothing; she only handed him the second photo. Draco snatched it from her; his breathing stopped when he looked at it. It was a photo of them kissing. Blaise and Y/N had kissed. Draco felt betrayed, deceived, hoodwinked, you name it, he felt it. Questions began to flood his brain. How could she do this? How long had she been seeing Blaise? Was he not good enough for her? Had he done something to upset her? Panic began to rise within Draco.

“She’s been cheating on you for quite some time, Draco. I was going to tell you sooner, but I knew you wouldn’t believe me without proof,” Pansy said sweetly. She tentatively put her hand on Draco’s shoulder and began to rub up and down soothingly. He barely registered her touch as his world began to crumble. His heart was totally and utterly broken. He couldn’t think he couldn’t breathe. Nothing made sense to him at that moment. 

“This must be so hard for you, Draco. I’m so sorry. But look on the bright side, now you can get rid of her. You have proof that she cheated. There’s no way she can deny what she did,” Pansy said a little too excitedly. But Draco paid her no mind; his eyes still hadn’t moved from the photographs in his palms. 

“Where is she?” he asked through gritted teeth. Pansy sighed dejectedly. “Well, she attacked me in the hallway, but Snape caught her. I suspect she’s still in detention, but—” Pansy was cut off by Draco springing to his feet, the photos in his tight grip. “Where are you going?” she asked him; he was at the door. Without looking back, he said, “To find her.”

“Draco! Wait!” Pansy exclaimed, but Draco was already gone. 

Snape’s office wasn’t far; it was in the dungeons along with the Slytherin common room and potions classroom. Draco’s heart was racing as he stormed through the hallways. He had no plan of action; he just knew he had to find her. Millions of possibilities ran through his head, but he didn't stop to ponder any of them. He rounded a corner and felt his breath catch in his throat. There she was. She looked distraught. When her eyes found Draco, she walked towards him immediately. Draco didn’t move from his spot. He let her come to him. When she reached him, she stared at him intently. A few moments of heavy silence passed before she decided to test the waters. “Draco?” she asked hesitantly.

“How long?” he retorted.

“How long? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play fucking dumb, Y/N. How long have you and Blaise been together, huh?”

Y/N’s face paled. “Draco, it is not what it looks like. Whatever Pansy told you isn’t true.”

Draco laughed. “She didn’t tell me. She showed me,” he replied in a strangely calm voice. Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes as Draco harshly shoved the photographs into her hands. She reluctantly looked down at the images of her and Blaise. She knew it looked terrible, but she was determined to make Draco believe her. 

“What do you have to say for yourself? I mean, seriously, was I not good enough for you? Is that it?” Draco asked. Hurt was audible in his voice.

Y/N felt her heart shatter. “Draco, don’t talk like that, of course, you’re good enough for me. You’re more than enough. Please, you have to trust me, you have to believe me. I would never cheat on you; they set me up.” Y/N pleaded. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Draco scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t lie to me, don’t make up stories. You cheated, and you didn’t care about the repercussions. Did you ever care? Was I just a game, just a toy for you?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“Of course I cared about you, Draco, I still do. I never fucking stopped caring about you... About us. Draco, I love you, please believe me, please let me explain,” she begged. But Draco wasn’t having it. He took a step backward; she took one forward. Draco clenched his fists. “Get away from me. We’re done.”

Y/N began to panic. “No, no, Draco, listen to me. Please don’t leave, please—”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a damn what you have to say. I don’t want to hear from you again, I don’t want to look at you. Do you understand me? Stay the fuck away from me,” Draco commanded. He continued backing up. This time, Y/N stayed put. Tears fell from her cheeks as she watched her lover leave. She felt her legs begin to tremble. She couldn't believe this was happening. It had only been a few hours ago that she had given him a good morning kiss. How had they ended up in this situation so fast? Her legs continued to shake, and eventually, she collapsed onto the cold floor. Sobs racked her body. 

-----------

A few weeks later, Draco was sitting in his usual spot in the Great Hall. In Y/N’s place, however, sat Pansy. She was leaning on her hand and gazing at Draco mindlessly. Truth be told, it made Draco a bit uncomfortable. But he did his best to ignore her as he finished up his supper. The past week had been extremely hard for him. He’d hardly gotten any sleep due to the fact all he could think about was Y/N. The look on her face when he’d ended things was burned into his mind. She’d looked so heartbroken, almost as if she was the one who was hurting. Draco knew better than that; he knew he was the one who’d been deceived. He was the one who’d been cheated on, for crying out loud. If anyone was hurting, it was him. 

Every time he saw an orange, her favorite fruit, he’d feel his heart clench. Whenever he’d pass the astronomy tower, he’d be reminded of all their time spent up there. The worst, however, was seeing her in the hallways. It hurt beyond belief to see her with Blaise. It just so happened that every time Draco saw them, Blaise's arm was around her waist. It made him sick to his stomach.

“You feeling alright, Dray?” Pansy inquired, pulling Draco out of his thoughts. He nodded and continued to pick at his shepherd's pie. “You don’t look, alright,” Pansy pushed further. Draco slammed his fist onto the table, making some fellow Slytherins irritated. He ignored them and glared at the girl next to him. “I found out a week ago that my girlfriend of two years has been cheating on me. Sorry, I’m not my usual fucking self,” he snapped. Pansy looked disturbed by his angry outburst and decided to remain silent for the rest of their meal.

Draco remained quiet as well; he didn’t like talking anymore. Hell, he didn’t like doing anything anymore. He felt so empty without her. She gave his life joy. Bullying first years and Harry Potter wasn’t the most fulfilling activity, neither was burying himself in his studies. But when Y/N was present, he was happy; he was important. Without her, he felt worthless. 

Just then, Draco noticed the couple themselves walking towards the doors of the Great Hall. Blaise’s hand was wrapped around Y/N's arm. She looked a bit disgruntled. When the pair passed Draco and Pansy, Y/N made eye contact with the blonde boy. Her eyes seemed sad, pleading almost. This intrigued Draco more than he cared to admit. He watched them leave, waited a few seconds, then stood up from his seat.

“Draco, where are you going? You haven’t finished your dinner,” Pansy whined. He chose to ignore her and follow after his former lover instead. 

When he walked through the doors, he headed for the stairs to the dungeons. He knew Y/N would always go straight to the common room after dinner; he could only hope that was still true. Draco could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he raced down the stone steps. He wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to follow after the girl who cheated on him, but there he was running after her.

When he got to the bottom of the staircase, he became acutely aware of the lack of people in the Hogwarts basement. Usually, Slytherins would be lurking around every corner, but not tonight. It was too quiet for Draco's liking. He willed himself to calm down. Once he did, he heard the sound of hushed voices coming from his right. He quietly hastened down the dark corridor until he came to the end of it. “Leave me alone,” a familiar voice said. Draco knew it was Y/N, he felt his heart jump upon hearing her, but He stayed hidden behind a wall and urged himself to open his ears to the conversation around the corner.

“You and Parkinson have already ruined my relationship. Can’t you just leave me be now? I thought you were just helping her get those photos; why are you still bothering me?” Y/N asked. She sounded exasperated.

“Pansy did pay me well for those pictures, but I’m afraid I’ve taken a liking to you, sweetheart. You’re just too pretty to pass up.”

After a few beats, Y/N replied with a quiet, “Don’t touch me.” Anger began to boil within Draco, but he didn’t let his presence be known just yet. He wanted to continue eavesdropping on their conversation. 

“What’s wrong, babydoll? Don’t like me?” Blaise asked tauntingly. Draco clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger. But he knew it was only a matter of time before he lost his temper. 

“Well, no shit Zabini. You fucking assaulted me and—” Y/N was cut off by a loud slap. This set Draco off; he launched himself off the wall and rounded the corner, wand out, and raised. Y/N and Blaise were shocked to see him here, but Blaise quickly masked his surprise and put his hands behind his back.

“Ah, Malfoy. Fancy seeing you here,” he said. Draco stormed up to him and pressed the tip of his wand to Blaise’s throat. He withdrew his hands slowly while staring at the wand, fear in his eyes. “Hey man, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked in a wavery voice.

“Did you hit her?” Draco asked. His voice was dark, his pupils were tiny as he glared at Blaise. The tall boy didn’t reply. Draco pressed his wand further into his neck. “Look at her, Zabini. Her cheek is burning red; I know you see it. So let me ask you again, did you fucking hit her? And don’t lie to me, you piece of shit.” Draco seethed. Y/N watched the exchange between the boys with terror on her face. She felt anything but safe.

Blaise gulped. “She was acting like a bitch,” he shrugged. Draco didn’t hesitate. “Petrificus Totalus!” Blaise fell backward onto the floor with a loud thud; he was now frozen. Draco stood over him, steaming as he tucked his wand into his pocket and reeled back his fist. “Draco, no!” Y/N yelled. But Draco was blind with rage. He rammed his fist into Blaise’s cheek. Y/N cried out for him to stop, but he hit him again and again. Blaise didn't make a peep as he was forced to endure Draco's brutal punches. Y/N looked on with tears streaming down her face. She didn’t try to stop him for fear he would turn on her. 

Once Draco was satisfied with the pulp he had beat Balise into, he released him from his invisible bonds. The boy scrambled to his feet and ran off to the Slytherin common room, not wanting to test Draco’s patience any further. Draco watched him go as he examined the blood on his knuckles. At last, he and Y/N were alone. The blonde boy turned to Y/N. His stomach dropped when he saw her tear stricken face. Her eyes were filled with fear as she peered up at him from her spot on the floor. Draco hesitantly crouched down. 

“Y/N… it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said softly. Y/N began to cry even more. Draco felt his stomach churn with regret, and he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Y/N.

“I didn’t cheat o-on you. Parkinson pu-put Zabini up to it. I didn’t kiss him willingly,” she stuttered, her body still rocking with sobs. Draco felt like a complete arsehole. He should've just let her explain that night. If he would've only heard her out, they could've avoided all of this.

 Draco gently reached out his hand and waited until Y/N placed hers on top of it. He intertwined his fingers with hers. The warmth from her touch was a stark contrast to the icy feeling of his. He pulled her hand close and softly kissed it. “I believe you, love. I’m sorry I didn’t before, but I do now. Please forgive me.”

Y/N rubbed her nose and gradually opened her arms. Draco pulled her into a much-needed hug. He pressed his face into her shoulder and relished in the feeling of her arms around his. Even though it had only been a week, it had felt much longer. So to finally be back in each other’s embrace was like a breath of fresh air.

When they pulled away, Draco caressed her face and, with his thumb, began to wipe the tears from her soft cheeks. He noticed the fading red mark from Blaise’s slap, and he felt his fury begin to return. But Y/N saw this right away. She put her own hands on Draco’s face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “I’m okay, just a little spooked is all,” she assured him. Draco saw right through her just like she’d seen through him. He knew she was terrified.

“You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, love. You’ve been hurt in so many ways, and I am so sorry. But I’m here now, and I promise you, nobody is going to lay another hand on you, okay? I’ve got you if you'll have me,” Draco said. Y/N smiled and pressed her forehead to his. They remained that way for a few moments before Draco pulled her into his lap. He stroked her hair comfortingly and began to rock her back and forth, calming her remaining tears. 

After a few minutes of this, Y/N turned around in Draco’s grasp. She smiled and reached up to push his hair out of his face. Usually, it would be clean-cut and uniform, but that night’s events had turned it into a messy mop. She chuckled to herself, causing Draco to look at her quizzically. “What?” he asked. Y/N tilted her head and pursed her lips. “You’re just too cute, is all.”

Draco felt blush rush to his cheeks; he buried his face in Y/N’s shoulder yet again. She simply hummed contentedly and pressed a kiss to his head. “I missed you,” she mumbled. Draco lifted his head and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “I missed you too, my lovely.”

“Please don’t break up with me again. I was so sad,” Y/N said with pouty lips. Oh, how Draco had missed those. He leaned in for another kiss. “Don’t worry, I was really lonely without you. You’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future,” Draco declared. Y/N giggled. “Good,” she replied. 

And suddenly...everything was okay again. 

[drowsystarlight]

Jasmine for the même

Jasmine: my god i have a lot . There is SO MUCH . I used to be an avid reader but now all the books i want to read are in a pile bc a character death in the Lorien Legacies series fucking KICKED MY ASS and now i havent picked up since uhhhh maybe 10th grade??? LMAO anyway RAMBLING TIME

Books

1) My Heart and Other Black Holes by Jasmine Warga . I actually really loved this shit and hid in class to read this book, I’d literally take any free time I have to pop this shit open and keep reading. It had dark themes tho (tw for suicide and depression basically) and i was a little kid who’d take any book i liked the plot of TO READ and this one was 👍👍👍 amazing. Described dark things and depression really well, it’s easy to feel for the characters and they felt real!! However I won’t read it again bc 1) while i found this really good when I read it like years ago, I dont like it now bc it put Romance in a place it was like,,,, kinda bleh to put ?? I mean romance is great but the ending kinda used it as a cure all lmao 2) it was SO DEPRESSING and it was hard to read bc its SO GOOD but my god i cant go through that again holy shitballs its like bridge to terabithia all over again

2) Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson . i dont think i gotta explain why im never reading or watching this shit again bc its so good but its notorious for emotionally beating up its readers into a pulp LMAO

3) The Fall of Five (Lorien Legacies #4), Pittacus Lore . This . THIS . THIS MADE ME STOP READING FOR YEARS BC IT HURT TOO MUCH!!!!! I HATE THAT MOTHERFUCKER PITTACUS LORE i swear when i find out who the fuck that is im going to rattle them wih my belt for doing MY BOY DIRTY !!!! I SWEAR IT !!!! Great books but my FAVE IS DEAD !!!!! GRRRGRGRGGRGRGGRGFRGRFRGRGG

4) Percy Jackson and the Olympians, The Heroes of Olympus, both series by Rick Riordan . I love them and I will give my life to this series bc its my favorite book series EVER but I have college and freelance work now so i cant reread 10 books like i used to (I read both of those in like a MONTH so i was really a beast ,,,, sighs i miss the good ol days)

5 Harry Potter . Why ? Fuck jk rowling

Shows

1) 13 reasons why . First of all I think they fucked this up by making more than two seasons . Like one season is Not Enough and having the second is A Stretch But Acceptable BUT also really obviously for just for the money imo . Like girl we get it hannah died and clay didnt get to use Love as a cure all for her unlike the book above by jasmine warga !!!! Ok !!! So the tapes r the final stories !! Cool !!! Amazing content wow i do not give a shit about bryce walker tho . I just hate how it lost the whole Hey this is about Clay or Hannah thing the longer it went and it turned from a good angsty show to like uh . Whatver i didnt watch the 3rd season lmao . Also the last ep in the first season was VERY TRIGGERING for me i actually had to skip that shit and sit a while bc of how graphic it was 💀💀💀 i expected mentions of suicide but not ACTUAL scenes of ot w blood and all my god

2) Steven universe . Idk it was great but ive associated it with someone i do not want anything to do with anymore so its more Personal but also . I kinda think the ending sucked . Wow lets have a bath party with the gems instead of address that this giant dysfunctional family of four has killed so many !!! Sure why not !!! I loved the movie tho lmao spinel has my heart

I think thats it unless i forgot one LMAO but anyway thanks polks this made me want to read again ,,, damn

[fanfic-girlie]

A/N: hey, it’s been a while. This is my first try on a smut so idk I hope you like it. Missing the moustache pics lol. Keep in mind english isnt my first language, so sorry if theres any mistakes. I didnt even edit it ‘cause I couldn’t bear myself to read it again lol sorry

TW: body insecurity, angsty, smut, mature language, oral sex.

Word count: around 1,2K.

You were chilling in the living room wearing your silk nightdress, drinking your coffee and thinking about nothing in particular, when Harry entered the house glistening with sweat, after having an already busy morning in the backyard, “Up early, I see” he says, glancing at the clock that reads 10:30 A.M.

“Oh, shut up already.”

It’s not that you are lazy, you are just enjoying quarantine like most people who can stay at home are: catching up on the sleep you lost after frantic weeks of working non-stop; also trying to bake and swearing you’ll ‘start working out tomorrow’ and never even trying to wake up earlier to join Harry in his workouts.  

Since quarantine started, he decided to let go a little bit more, not shaving everyday, getting used to settle down more instead of being constantly working and on the road, doing interviews, music videos and whatnot. And, oh boy, were you loving his new ‘loose’ style, that mustache driving you insane every time you even looked at him.

“You’re staring.”

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head. He chuckles.  

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing much, what’s on yours?”

“I’m thinking about shaving the ‘stache”  

“NO- WHY?!” you shift on the couch, recomposing yourself “I mean, why would you do that?” you try to say calmly.

“You really like it, huh? Wanna tell me why is that?” he says coming closer and smiling at you, then gets very serious “Please don’t say daddy issues.” You giggle.

“God, no. You’re a weirdo. It’s just.. It just feels nice, that’s it.” You smile at him and kiss his cheek “When you kiss me” you start traveling south, “when you kiss my neck”, you give him a kiss on the neck, earning a soft hum from his lips, “when you kiss my thighs”, you say giving a little squeeze on his leg, and move your lips to his ear whispering “when you kiss my pussy”.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N)” he growls, immediately meeting your lips in a very heated kiss. His hands going straight to your waist, as you grind down on him moaning loud when he smacks your ass.

“I mean, let me at least say goodbye to it” you tug on his hair as his lips find your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on the way and giving your breasts a little squeeze. “Gladly” he says, his hand going under your nightdress to remove your panties, only then realizing you’re not wearing any, “so naughty” he smirks, sticking two of his fingers inside of you and licking your juices clean looking at you. You feel yourself getting wetter just looking at him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby”. His lips finding yours again in a desperate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours, neither of you wanting to break it off. Your hands going to the hem of his shirt trying to remove it, and he happily obliges, removing your nightdress as well exposing your naked body, his lips immediately going to your nipples and giving them lots of attention. You throw your head back in the process, and he takes it as his opportunity to fill your very exposed neck with lots of kisses.  

It all feels great in the heat of the moment, but in the back of your mind all you can think about as the sun hits through the curtains, is how exposed your body is right now, you’ve never even had sex with Harry with the lights on, and you start to get very insecure. He senses your body stiff “What happened? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something?” his hands reaching up to your cheeks and forcing you to look at his very worried eyes.

“No, baby, it’s not you. Why don’t we take this to the bedroom, huh?” you fumble trying to reach your nightdress, hiding your boobs with your arms. He furrows his eyebrows and starts looking around your body to see if you’re hurt, “Why baby? Is the couch uncomfortable?” he tries to pry your arms open, receiving strong resistance from you, “What’s wrong? Talk to me”.

“It’s just too light in here..” it comes out as a whisper, you’re fighting the urge to cry in front of him, but your lips give in first, quivering as the hot tears threaten to fall, “my body is not perfect like your ex-models', Harry. I don’t want to disappoint you.” You realize you can’t  hold your tears back anymore, your hands trying to cover your eyes as your arms try to hide your boobs, you feel so small that all you want in that moment is to disappear.

“Disappoint me? Baby, you could never disappoint me” his hands softly touching yours to remove them from your eyes “hey, look at me. Love, you’re gorgeous, your body is perfect the way it is, I love it,  I love you. I don’t want you to compare yourself to other people, please baby, it hurts me so much seeing you like this. You’re beautiful, fuck, you’re delicious, (Y/N). I love every little bit of you” he holds you, caressing your naked back.

You never thought you could genuinely love someone so much and be worthy of receiving that love back, but Harry never ceased to amaze you and make you feel special and very much loved. “Everything?” you asked chuckling, as he wiped your tears away.

“Everything” he smiles at you “you could have any men you want.”

“Even Harry Styles?”

“Yes, specially him” he chuckles “I’m so lucky to have you”.

“What about Brad Pitt?”

His face deadpans “Let’s see whose name you’ll be screaming when this is over” he quickly throws you on the couch getting on top of you.

“HARRY!” you shriek and laugh.

“That’s right, SAY MY NAME BABY”.

He goes back to kissing your neck and whispers on your ear “I want you to ride my face”. Your eyes going wide just thinking about it.

“H...” you trail off.

“Shhh, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. Trust me on this, you’re not going to regret it.”

“Wow, you’re so full of yourself” you say making him chuckle as he lays back and pulls you with him, positioning your legs on each side of his face and locking eyes as he gives you a quick nod of reassurance and you slowly lower yourself on him. “Just tell me if I hurt you.” He yanks your hips down, his lips connecting to your clit instantly, making you moan loud.

His tongue starts working wonders, moving around in circular motions, his mustache tickling the area and making everything ten times better. His fingers digging on your thighs as you rock your hips back and forth feeling better than ever, you reach for his hand and move it towards your pussy and he gets what you want, slipping two of his fingers inside you and moving it around making you a moaning mess on top of him. His other hand gives your ass a little squeeze before smacking it again and making you jerk on his face, accidentally brushing his nose on your clit, “Oh, my God, Harry” you gasp. Your hand strongly gripping his hair and guiding him to where you wanted him the most. You felt your stomach tightening, a wave hitting over your body, “Harry, I’m gonna come” you moaned the words out, he encouraged you by not stopping his movements, his tongue licking and sucking your clit harder as you came undone on his tongue, moaning his name.

“So, I should keep the ‘stache?” he asked after you collapsed on top of him.

“Definitely”.

[virgil-kain]

Say anything

-selective mute roman sanders

-swearing

-self depreciating language

-kinda stimming at one point but not really, it's not exactly good, it leaves a slight mark, only briefly mentioned.

kinda angsty

if it dosent exist, write it yourself y'know...

____________________________________

He wanted to sing. To answer a question without that silence filling the air. He could have done it. Just a week or so ago, words flowing from his mouth without hesitation. But now he just...couldn't. Roman couldn't speak and he hated it.

He couldnt tell you what triggered it, well he couldnt really tell you anything right now. But his voice wouldn't come even when he wanted too. Even when he tried. He knew it would hurt too much to speak. He'd said so many things wrong. It was better he didn't say anything.

He tried to ignore the sad glances from the others when he saw them for the short amount of time he had to socialize. He tried to ignore it when they said they liked it better when he spoke. He liked it better when he could too. But he just...couldn't.

He ignored it when he heard them complain about how annoying it was he wouldnt just speak. When they got annoyed because they didnt understand what he was trying to convey.

They suggested learning some sign language to make it easier but with Roman's expressive movements he found it too hard to pick up and remember what the movements meant even if the others could.

The obvious thing to do was write things down. Carrying around a pen and paper was easy, writing things down quick enough to contribute to conversation was another thing entirely. The awkward silence that surrounded them as they would pause to read was terrible. So he stopped writing unless he had too. And then stopped writing pretty much at all. His hands didnt want to cooperate his arms flinging now and again without control, hands shaking or needing to do something even when it was repeatedly tapping his wrist till a small mark formed unintentionally, before a word could appear on the paper. It would happen before but now the movements made him fell stupid, like he was immature, acting like a child.

He clicked a lot. To get attention when he wanted to answer or ask something. Then, an off hand comment that they weren't a dog stopped him. He stopped clicking cause he didnt want to make them feel bad. It didnt matter if he thought it was a simple solution. The others didnt like it so he wouldnt do it.

Most of all he hated how the large, enthusiastic movements he would make felt childish. How sometimes short noises would come out as he attempted to use simple words. When he would be called from another room and would normally answer in a booming, "Yes?" he was restricted to a strained "yunh," which barely reached them. He felt like a fucking child. Every time he felt more and more useless. He felt pathetic.

But even with all of this. there was a part of him that just...didn't want to speak. No matter how useless it made him feel there was something he liked about it. That sounded messed up and he knew it. It was... comforting wasnt the right word but it just felt better than speaking.

He knew the others didnt mean anything by their comments. They wanted the best for him but it hurt to see the sad smiles every morning they said hello and he couldnt respond. The soft, "I hoped..." trailing of to nothing as they realised he wouldnt respond properly. It stung. But he knew they didnt mean anything by any of it. So he wouldnt say anything.

He mouthed stuff and tried to communicate but it was just, so hard. He wanted to say something. Anything!

One time he did. A simple insult thrown back at someone as a joke. 8 words. He'd counted. 8 words in 1 week. He couldnt even rember them but he remembered the response. "Oh so now you can talk?" and it was a joke. It wasnt meant as anything so why did the words have to twist round his heart and make him quieter than ever before.

Maybe his voice would return. He wanted it to eventually. He was an actor after all. What good is an actor if they can't perform. Reading from a script, belting a song to an audience. He thought he could do that. If he had to. His voice could come then. Because it's not his words. He wouldnt have to worry about saying the wrong thing because there was only one thing to say. He wouldn't fumble over what to say or speak when no one wanted him to. He had a que and could stick too it.

But he just wanted to say something. Say anything.

_________________________________________

welp hope this turned out okay

I havent read over it xx

@thefingergunsgirl @kawaiikat54 @ninathepancake you guys asked to be tagged so here you go

[howdoyousleep3]

Hi K, I hope you are doing wonderful💖i know you’ve had an ask similar to this about Daddy Steve snapping at Bucky, but im watching a show and the husband was trynna use a ‘tough love’ approach w/ his wife and yelled at her, but then she burst into tears and he realized that didnt work and hugged her real tight and was like “IM SO SORRY” and she was like “YOU YELLED AT ME🥺😭” and i thought it was cute lol, would any of your SteveBucky pairings have a lil misunderstanding like that? Luv u🥰💖

Hi Baby Del everyone it’s my Baby Del look look Baby Del is back with some sweet snuggly tiny bit angsty Daddy Steve and bb Bucky feels, ahh. 

Ugh this is so so them working things out in the beginning of their relationship!! Yelling is no good for our Bucky (or anyone??) but there is always learning going on at first, ya know? Maybe it was when Steve was still trying to work out the kinds of punishments and praise that Bucky would like. They’re in the living room and maybe Bucky hadn’t been an good boy and was begging Steve a bit too much, pushing the envelope on Daddy saying no and Bucky wanting more and Steve’s voice raises, he yells, tries it out. 

“Bucky! Enough!” 

100% I imagine that Bucky would immediately start getting teary-eyed and then would be startled by his reaction, the sweet thing. The sad tiny little noise he makes when he realizes Daddy has yelled at him and that he shouldn’t cry is making my heart shatter! Oh my goodness. Steve would notice in three seconds that he had gone too far and immediately have his arms full of Buck, his lap full, would have his lips on that temple as soon as he could!

“No, oh shh shh it’s okay no, babylove don’t cry no Daddy was dumb, that was so stupid, no...” 

Bucky would be more surprised by his reaction than the fact that Steve raised his voice. He wouldn’t sob by any means but there’d be a few hiccups, definitely the statement of, “You yelled at me!” and so many more Daddy apologies. 

“I know, I know, sugar never again, never again.” 

And after those few hiccups Bucky would start giggling because how ridiculous of a situation they’ve ended up in. Bucky would soak up the attention, Steve’s love, Steve’s own chuckle. 

“Yeah, never might be good for that one.” 

“God, Buck never. It won’t happen again. I swear, baby.”

Ugh, yes yes this is very realistic, Baby Del. So funny, so sweet. Thank you for hopping in my Inbox. I hope you’re doing well! Love you!

[toutorii]

Heartbreak

Connor stared at the flames. Feeling a part of himself leaving his body. He felt numb. He felt nothing but a dull ache as he saw people mourning their loved ones.

Gods dammit. So many kids lost their lives that day.

He looked at the son of Poseidon, who had given up on trying to stay strong and broke down in tears. The daughter of Athena holding him while shedding her own tears.

He turned his head to the young blonde son of Apollo. Who was hanging onto his siblings, all of them crying and muttering things like "why her" and "no no no this isnt real"

His gaze raised to the son of Hades, who was responsible to send all of the dead demigods to the afterlife. He was staring at the flames, but it didnt take a genius to know what he was staring at. After all, she was like a mother to him.

Finally, Conner's sights landed on his older brother, who was holding his significant other in his arms. Katie was a broken mess in Travis' arms.

Connor thought he would feel a surge of anger and resentment at his brother. Knowing that he would be able to go to sleep tonight knowing he would see the love of his life tomorrow. But instead, he felt relieved that his brother could be happy. That he didnt have to go through what he did.

Connor suddenly started having a shortness of breath. The crowd suffocating him. He ran in a frenzy to anyplace other than there, anyplace where he didn't have to see her face, anyplace he didnt have to remember her smile—

He stopped in front of the big house, trembling. The numbness started to fade, and pain. Oh gods the pain, just hit him like a typhoon.

Never again would she smile at him, her slightly crooked teeth and dimples showing. Never again would he be able to stare at her beautiful dark skin and her changing eyes. Never again would he be able to laugh when she cursed at her hair for being so damn stubborn. Never—

No.

He has to stop. He can't think about any of that anymore. If he does. He'll break completely.

So, Connor walked instead to the Hermes cabin, and layed in her bed, pretending she was still there.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

3 days.

It had been 3 days since she had left him.

Or more specifically, 71 hours and 44 minutes.

Connor fiddled with his ring. The same ring that she had exchanged with him. They always knew the possibility of one of them passing before they could get married, so they exchanged promise rings. The ring always made Connor feel proud. That the woman he loved so much loved him as well.

But now. Now. He just feels pain. Pain that she left him in this cruel world. That he was expected to live on and to be strong. He doesnt want to be strong. He wants to be in her arms godsdammit.

He reached into his pocked and pulled out a piece of paper that had been haunting him since he found it.

"Read it after the battle, will you? That means you have to survive to read it you hear?"

He cursed himself for not catching that she never said she would survive to see his reaction.

Taking a shaky breath, he opened the folded paper. He smiled gently at her messy all caps handwriting.

Connor,

If youre reading this—

Actually, fuck that, what is this? An angsty fanfic? Anyways, I already got off track I swear to Hades—

A h e m. So, I guess I'll start with why I'm writing you this.

So its because of my dream. I lied to you. And I'm sorry. But I knew who killed me, I knew where it was, I figured out when it was. All a few years ago actually. It was Luke, in Olympus, during the Battle of Manhattan. And Im so sorry. But I had to die, basically to guilt the fucker into fighting Kronos. But enough about that. Gods theres so many things I wanted to tell you. But I'll keep it short. I love you Connor Stoll. You are my best friend. I cant imagine a world without you. And I know you feel the same. But, you'll have to learn to live without me. And Im so sorry, I wish I could give you everything you ever wanted. But, I cant. And— gods Im crying now— I hate myself for that. I will watch over you though Connor. You wont be alone. Oh, and find happiness. You deserve it. But I want to ask one selfish request. Look after the kids. Especially Will and Nico. Percy and Annie will have eachother for emotional support, but Will and Nico dont. Gods, I hope they all make it out alive. I know its a fools wish but one can wish. And one last thing. (I feel like ive said that alot) Don't stop being you, okay?

Love and best wishes,

Phoebe

Connor smiled, knowing that her "kids" all made it out alive and safe. But also, because he feels like he has some closure. That her death wasn't in vain.

He stared at her name. Burning into his mind so he would never forget. As if he could forget, the woman he loved so dearly.

His voice cracked as he spoke for the first time since the battle.

"I love you too, Phoebe Jacobs"