#i need inspo for my pawns though

[puretopia]

Arisen.

[mari-the-bimbo]

Checkmate

A/N: This is part of the ‘think I need someone older’ series because I’m very behind on it whoopsie! Also have I watched Queen Gambit? No. Did I use the show as inspo anyways? Yes! :D

MINORS DNI, 18+, blow job, semi public sex? Dirty talk,

“You again Geto?” you ask with a sigh as you watch the older, handsome man with his jet black hair tied back, patiently wait for you at the table.

“Hey beautiful”

You try your best to hide your smile from the handsome man who always managed to win every other chess game to land at a game with you.

“You sound disappointed to see me y/n, I’m hurt” he says playfully as you sit at the table, scanning the board, preparing for a game of chess with him.

“Yet you find yourself here every time” you retort, he chuckles nonetheless as he begins. “I enjoy it” he says.

“I’ll never understand why you enjoy playing chess in a pub full of old men though” he says. You shrug your shoulders “I’m just better than all of you” you say as you move a pawn.

He laughs amusedly, it echoes across the room littered with a few nearly middle aged men, none of them gorgeous as your favourite opponent.

“so cocky” he swoons. “And what if I won today?”

“You won’t” you say confidently with a smile, he can’t help but mirror your smile. He was so lovesick for you.

“You wanna bet on that?” He says, you give a breathy laugh at his eagerness. “Ok bet”

“And what happens if I win the bet?” He asks, causing you to halt your next move on the bishop.

You raise an eyebrow at the mischievous male, debating whether letting the simp have a favour from you is a wise idea.

“What would you want to do if you won?” You ask. Fuck being wise right?

He smiles knowingly, licking his lips, but it’s too late to take back words.

“You let me have my way with you”

Your breath hitches at his statement. You glare at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means you can help me out with something I really need” he says.

“Oh really?” You say as you move another player, your head goes fuzzy for a second. Wait, was that the right player to move?

“Mhm, just a little something under the table” he says dirtily as he confidently moves another player.

You gulp at his suggestive words, you know what a man obsessed with you would want, but you never expected him to have this effect on you “what?” You say as you move your king.

He smiles before leaning in closer to you. You feel his breath on your neck, “is your mouth as good as your hands?” he rasps and you gasp, pulling away from him, glaring at the man.

However Geto’s dark eyes were no longer on you but rather your king who he just put into check.

“Checkmate”

You stare in disbelief at the board. How did he defeat you? He never wins against you, nor does he ever come close to it.

“You-“

“Aww man all the guys have left. They didn’t get to witness this beautiful victory” he mocks with a smile.

You squeeze your thighs together, hating yourself for choosing your desire for the handsome chess genius over your own ego.

He tilts his head and flashes a pretty smile at you as he unzips his jeans. “Well I guess it’s good they’re not here to witness what’s next huh?”

———————————-

You were, in fact thankful that all the other chess enthusiasts left. The pub staff too busy sitting inside, having a cigarette to know Geto’s dirty antics.

You’re not surprised when upon freeing his cock from his boxers, you found it was already rock hard and decorated with pre cum. He was horny this entire game?

“Dirty pervert” you mutter.

He laughs at you while reaching out a hand to caress your cheek, “you seen the faces you pull when you’re concentrating? How can a man resist?”

“You-“

But your sentence is cut off by Geto’s tip which he now shoved against your lips, pre cum wetting them.

“Nu uh, you can run your mouth when you win a game princess, until then, it’ll be stuffed with my cock” he says, leaving no room for protest.

He pets your hair as the pre cum around his pink thick cock gets licked up by you. He moans deliciously, singing your praises from his mouth.

“Ohhhh pretty girl, your mouth is just as good”

He enthusiastically grabs your head with his thick veiny hand to press his cock deeper into your mouth. You initially struggle to fit the girth of him in, but your choking is only music to his ears.

He laughs blissfully at the sound, “so cuteee” he moans, his hips thrusting harder every time, because the wet gummy feeling of inside your mouth was just too good against his length.

Your whimpers vibrate against his sensitive head, his praises is now mixed with curses as he ruts into your mouth as if you were a sex toy. His thick arm grabbing the wooden table for stability, because, oh god, it was so easy to lose his composure with a pretty thing like you in between his legs.

Heavy balls slap against your chin, and the drool trails down your face but you try to keep up with his eager stamina.

Finally he slows his pace when he makes you aware he’s about to cum, the creamy taste of his cum flows down your throat as well as trickling down your chin mixing with your spit.

You’re both panting as you finally take his length out of your mouth and look up at him from in between his legs.

It takes everything in you not to suck him off again as you watch him slump against the chair, black hair strands frame his face dishevelled, his muscular chest heaving as he lets out a satisfied sigh.

“Hey princess” he coos as he grabs your chin, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, he kisses your wet lips for continuing. “Maybe you should let me win more often yeah? I promise I’ll eat you out next time”

You give him a breathy laugh against his lips, “in your dreams Suguru” you say, even though you know you’ll take him up on the offer.

[rainroses45]

Rocks Float

༄.°description: You loved the lake, Sam noticed you loved the lake - but he didn’t know why you spent so much time there (Sam Winchester x Sister Reader)

༄.°A/n: lately I haven’t been enjoying life and I remember my previous failed attempts so i was like eh let’s write that (Not edited)

༄.°song inspo: Sea Swallow Me

༄.°Warning: Suicide! Mentions of drowning, death

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Sam had always noticed the way you sat near the lake, knees tucked to your chest, eyes never quite focused on the horizon but instead fixated on the water. The air would be still except for the rippling circles that bloomed each time you tossed a rock into the depths. Bubbles would rise to the surface and soon fall with a final gasp, breaking the calm as though the lake itself was breathing beneath its dark skin. Drowning in its own skin, desperate for air yet not desperate enough to breath it.

He never said anything about it. You always came back to the motel eventually, slipping inside with damp shoes and that distant look in your eyes. Sam figured it was just your way of finding peace.

But today was different.

Sam had been watching from a distance, leaning against the Impala with Dean off somewhere arguing with their dad. Hours passed, and you never showed up at the lake. That empty patch of grass where you always sat was bare. No bug or bird ever approached it. The grass laid flat and did not dare to move. It almost seemed like if they invaded it or even changed a glimpse of this memory, you would no longer come back.

Frowning, he pushed off the car and made his way back to the rundown motel where the four of you were holed up. The thin walls and creaky floors reeked of stale smoke and disappointment, but it was home enough for hunters like them - yeah hunters like them.

Your room was empty when he opened the door. The sheets were rumpled, and your duffel bag sat untouched by the bed. Anxiety clawed at his chest, but he forced himself to breathe. You probably just needed space. You never really talked anymore. Sure there were a couple times you would smile at him but it never lasted long - you always went back to your cocoon before he could say another word. Maybe this was your time to blossom into the beautiful butterfly you are. 

Still, something gnawed at the edges of his mind, a quiet unease that wouldn’t let go. He threw himself onto the bed, the old mattress creaking beneath his weight, and closed his eyes for just a moment. A tiny moment of rest. A tiny moment of peace. A tiny moment where the flooding of his thoughts stopped, and all he could smell is you. 

The nap didn’t last long, unfortunately.

Dean’s rough hand shook Sam awake. “Hey, Sammy, c’mon. Dad picked up another murder on the radio.”

Sam blinked groggily, sitting up. “What? Now?”

“Yeah, Dad’s already in the car,” Dean said, already moving toward the door.

Sam frowned, rubbing his face. “Shouldn’t we wait for her?” he asked, glancing toward your stuff. “She might wanna come with us.”

Dean shrugged, brushing it off. “Let her have her own time, Sammy. It’s fine. She’ll meet us back here.”

Sam’s gut twisted, but he followed Dean out to the Impala, climbing into the back seat as John pulled onto the road. The engine rumbled beneath them, and Sam stared out the window, the trees blurring past. Each one turning into a green haze as his eyes lost focus on the site, and his fears began to control him like a pawn. 

The unease gnawed at him, he felt lost, he felt confusion, he felt like you. Like a bomb, he pulled out his phone gently and hit your number. The line rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Call me back, okay?” Sam said, forcing calm into his voice.

Ten minutes passed. No call.

He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. 

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, dialing once more. 

John’s gruff voice cut through the tension. “Let her be, Sam. She’s probably just clearing her head.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. “She always answers.”

“She’s a grown woman.” “She is sixteen,” Sam wanted to say, she wasn’t a collective trauma stamp for him to place wherever. 

  “She doesn’t need you checking up on her every second,” John said sharply, annoyed by the constant clicking of keypad. “We have lives at stake we don’t need to be worrying about something that doesn’t need worrying about.” He finished off his rant, leaving Sam with nothing.

Dean shot Sam a glance from the passenger seat, sensing his brother’s unease but saying nothing.

Sam stared at the phone in his hand, dread curling tighter in his chest with every unanswered call. Your voicemail repeating its self over and over in his mind like a broken record. 

By the time they pulled up to the scene near the lake - the lake, your lake.  Sam’s heart was racing. Police lights flashed red and blue against the trees, and the smell of damp earth and lake water hung thick in the air.

A cop stood near the shoreline, speaking quietly to a paramedic. Sam’s stomach knotted as they approached.

John flashed a fake badge. “What’ve we got?”

“Teen girl,” the cop said grimly. “Found floating face down. Must’ve been out there a while.”

Sam’s breath hitched. His legs felt like lead as he pushed past the officer, heart pounding in his chest.

“No,” he whispered, sprinting toward the tarp-covered body lying on the grass. “No, no, no—”

“Sam, wait!” Dean called after him, but Sam didn’t stop.

He dropped to his knees beside the tarp, his hands shaking as he pulled it back.

The world shattered around him.

It was you.

Your skin was pale, tinged with blue, your hair tangled and wet against your face. The scars on your arms, the faint freckle near your temple—every detail he knew by heart was there, lifeless and cold.

“No,” Sam choked, his voice breaking. “No, please, no.”

Dean was suddenly beside him, his face twisted with shock and grief. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered hoarsely.

Sam’s hands trembled as he touched your cold cheek, willing you to open your eyes, to breathe, to come back.

“You said to let her be,” Sam whispered, voice cracking as tears blurred his vision. “You said she was fine.” He looked up at John. The so called father, the protector of his family, destroying yet another piece of him within seconds. 

John stood frozen, guilt etched deep into his features, but Sam couldn’t look at him anymore.

Dean’s voice was raw. “Sammy… I—”

But Sam shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “I should’ve—” His breath hitched. “I should’ve waited. I should’ve gone after her.”

Dean gripped his shoulder, his own voice unsteady. “This ain’t on you, man.”

But Sam couldn’t hear him. All he could see was you—the sister who always sat by the lake, watching bubbles rise from the depths. And now you were gone, lost to the very place you always seemed to belong to.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 13

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Violence. Reader stabs herself. Murder.

Author’s Note: They’re gonna be happy. I swear. Just. Just be patient. Inspo for her gown! Might I recommend listening to Dress by Taylor Swift when she reveals her gown? Gif from @fictional-thoughts

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Engagement

Something about arriving in Senex, then leaving, then arriving again without issue gave Din an overwhelming feeling of paranoia. It shouldn’t have been so easy –the Crest was able to go undetected just fine, but there was no way that Calisto and her men weren’t keeping an eye on the skies. More importantly, he shouldn’t have been able to sneak back into her bedroom just as easily as he had before either, but there he was, setting Grogu up on her bed.

There was commotion downstairs –music, voices echoing through the empty halls and vents. He must have gotten there just in time for the party to have started. Which meant he didn’t have much time to get her and get her out of there. Din hoped that she had gotten the tracker out, but the thought of her cutting it out of herself brought on an anger that he needed to control if this was going to work.

Grogu babbled, reaching up to him as Din checked over his armor.

“It’s going to be okay, kid,” he promised, resting a hand on the child’s head gently. “Isowen will be here to keep you safe, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Din and Grogu exchanged looks as the bedroom door creaked open. Drawing his blaster, Din pointed it at the intruder, only for Isowen to stop in her tracks with her hands in the air. Her eyes were wide, but Din lowered his weapon and she shut the door with her foot. 

“The princess is downstairs with her mother,” Isowen explained, walking into the bedroom entirely, though she stopped at the end of the bed. Grogu stared up at her with wide eyes. “This must be the little one she’s spoken of.”

Din nodded, holstering his gun. “He’ll be safe with you, then?”

“I will protect him with my life,” Isowen promised, lifting Grogu into her arms. “Just as I have protected his mother.” The two exchanged looks, with Isowen meeting Din’s gaze carefully. “Treat her well, Mandalorian. Or I will be who you answer to.”

Din wanted to counter her threat and ask where she was when Calisto was pawning her child off –but he decided against it. There was only so much Isowen could have done for her, and he wasn’t going to insult the one person that his princess seemed to have left in the home that cared about her. 

She had him now too.

“The party has begun,” Isowen explained, resting Grogu on her hip. “The announcement of the engagement will not be until the end.”

“Did she get the tracker out?” 

The lady in waiting shook her head, looking away for a moment. “She asked me –I couldn’t bring myself to cut her open like that again, though. I am sorry, Mandalorian.”

He huffed through his modulator, but didn’t comment. Instead, he simply nodded and exited the room. A kink in the plan but nothing he couldn’t figure out in the moment.

*****

Downstairs, at the party, she was standing alone in the back. The hall was set up in a way that obscured her from view, but allowed for an excellent vantage point to scan the room. Usually, she and her father sat there to people watch. Now, it worked well for surveillance.

Her armor was obscured enough by the gossamer of her cape. Besides, her mother didn’t even bother to ask her about the addition. Just as Isowen promised, the sleeves of her dress were removed and allowed for a full view of the scar that took up most of her arm now. She would let the whole galaxy know what her mother did if given the chance. The Senate should know who was taking her father’s place.

“If I didn’t know any better,” a soft voice teased. From around the corner came Leia Organa with a glass in her hand. Leia gave her a small, playful smile. “I’d think you weren’t the purpose of the party.”

“What gave it away?” She asked, holding her hands behind her back now.

“Honestly, the entire thing,” Leia admitted, looking out over the party now. “Though, Credence and your mother being the actual center of attention really confirms it.”

She nodded once, scanning over the party. Her eyes caught a crack in the servant’s doorway, and a quick flash of light caught silver. A smile spread over her lips, knowing well what that meant.

Who that meant.

“Leia, I need your help,” she finally concluded, looking to the other princess at her side.

“Does it involve getting you out of this marriage? Because if it does, absolutely.”

She looked a bit surprised, unsure if Leia was being serious. But then she nodded once. “It does. But it also involves saving my…a child from Moff Gideon.”

Leia’s brow furrowed, though she kept her eyes on the party. She was certain the other princess caught her slip up, but if she did, Leia said nothing. “Gideon died, I thought?”

“Apparently not.”

“Why is he interested in a child?”

She opened her mouth to explain then stopped, realizing she wasn’t entirely sure of the answer. Din never really explained why Gideon was so interested in Grogu; just that he had been chasing after them for years now. It didn’t really matter, if she was honest with herself. Whatever Grogu had that Gideon wanted –she wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her child. 

“I…don’t know, truthfully,” she finally admitted, looking away from the crack in the door and to Leia. “I just know that I have to protect him.”

Leia glanced over at her then nodded once. “You have an escape plan?”

“I have a Mandalorian and a ship.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” 

The two finally looked at each other properly, as Leia’s husband joined them. Han Solo held a glass in his hand, looking annoyed by the entire ordeal. 

“When can we leave?” He asked, finishing off his drink. “This entire thing is a joke.”

“Han,” Leia warned, looking up at him. “This is the Princess of Senex.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

She waved him off, shaking her head. “It is a joke, you’re right.”

“And we’re going to help get her out of here,” Leia explained, taking his arm. “With the help of a Mandalorian, apparently.”

“Weren’t you taken by a Mandalorian?” Han asked, looking down at her with a frown. 

She shook her head, looking back out as a new stormtrooper suddenly joined the party as a guard. He nodded at her and she smiled knowingly. 

“No, I wasn’t.”

*****

Din slipped into the party with ease, having gotten rid of another trooper and taken their armor. While he wasn’t entirely sure where in the hall she would be, he would find her. He surveyed the room, searching for any sign of her presence. He could feel the weight of his mission pressing down on him, but he tried to push it aside and focus on the task at hand. 

As he weaved his way through the crowd, he kept his eyes and ears open, listening for anything that might lead him to her. Finally, he caught an offset of the room –a corner that was sheltered away. If she wasn’t in the main room, that’s exactly where she’d be. He quickened his pace and disappeared into the throngs of partygoers, slipping around the corner without a word.

A young woman stood next to his princess, whispering to her. She glanced at him, frowning deeply. “I think we should take this elsewhere.”

“It’s fine,” she promised, nodding to Din behind the enemy mask. One of his hands found the small of her back without hesitation. “He’s mine.”

The man beside the other woman gave her a wary look before he realized what she meant, then he turned to Din. “I thought Mandos couldn’t take off their helmets?”

“Doesn’t matter,” was all he said. 

He put his hands up in defense, giving a feigned look of offense. “Why do I feel like this is gonna break into a firefight?”

“Because it will,” Din offered as an explanation, and he gripped his blaster tight in his hands. “Who are these people?”

“Leia,” the woman offered, motioning to the man beside her. “This is Han.”

“And no, it won’t,” she countered, giving him a wary look. “Not if I can get this tracker out of my arm –,”

“The what out of where?” Leia demanded, grabbing her hand to pull her arm from beneath her cape. Disgust painted the older princess’s features as she examined her arm. “Stars above, this is –,”

“How are you gonna get it out?” The other man interrupted, looking over the healed scar. “Without, y’know, cutting it back out?”

“That was the plan,” she admitted, reaching for the dagger beneath her skirts. She turned to Din, looking up at him now. “I need you to do it.”

Din stared at the dagger, the feeling of anxiety overwhelming him. It wouldn’t be his first time cutting something out of someone, but something about doing it to her created a rock in his stomach. 

“I…I don’t think I can,” he admitted, voice quiet behind the trooper’s mask. 

Her brows knitted together, looking up at him with a small frown. She glanced at the other two, then pulled him to the side. “Din, I…you have to do it. I can’t; you’re the only person I trust to do it –,”

“I can’t, cyare,” he whispered back, shaking his head. “I can’t hurt you like that. I…I don’t think I can.”

“Din, if I do it, then there’s a higher chance I cut something fatal.”

“No, you won’t —,”

“Din —,”

“If you two are done,” Leia interrupted, looking between the two now. She plucked the dagger from her hands, glancing at the signet engraved on it, then back at his princess. “I’ll do it.”

“Absolutely not,” Din snapped, taking the weapon from her. Between a stranger offering to slice open his wife and that same stranger taking her weapon, Din was not having it. 

“Hey, we have trouble,” Han announced, peering around the corner. “If we’re gonna make our getaway, now is the time.”

Din pushed him out of the way, taking a breath as Calisto and Credence moved to the center of the party. Gideon was standing to the side, scanning the room for any sign of trouble. Din was about to give him trouble, but she grabbed his arm.

“Leia and Han are going to join the party,” she explained, looking at them as they nodded and made their exit. She gripped his arm hard over the armor. “It’s going to be okay, Din. Get your armor –you’re going to need it.”

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. There was a sudden increase of guards in the room, and Din knew well it meant Calisto was starting to catch on that she was missing from the party. Turning back to her, he scanned her features for any hesitation –any fear. But she stood tall before him.

“Do not make a single move without me in this room,” he warned, pointing at her with warning. He knew she would try to fight this on her own; he couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t have that. “We fight this together, do you understand me?”

She nodded once. “I do.”

*****

Once Din had disappeared into the shadows of her home, she made her way back into the fray of party goers. Most didn’t even notice she had disappeared from the ordeal; some asked her questions but she ignored them as she pushed her way to the front.

On the side stood Leia and Han, who were watching Moff Gideon with careful expressions. She nodded once to them as she stood at the edge of the crowd. Her mother raised a brow at her, as if suddenly realizing her daughter was even present, then motioned her forward to join them. That same forced smile spread over Calisto’s face, pretending that she was happy to see her daughter, as she stood beside her mother.

“Thank you all for coming,” Calisto announced, motioning to the crowd. “It is truly a marvelous day to be together in this room.” 

The crow clapped, cheering brightly as if they had any idea what was happening. She wanted to roll her eyes; scold them for the part they were playing in such a farce. But she played her part, standing there silently as she scanned the crowd once more.

“Today, our family becomes one with the Credence’s,” Calisto continued, motioning to Silas who stepped forward next to her. “As he has asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

As if the crowd was excited to hear that their young princess was suddenly engaged to an old man, they broke out in cheers and congratulations again. From her place in the room, she could see everything. The cheering crowds, the questioning faces. Not everyone was excited; some of them saw through it all. Those were the faces she counted; the ones that she knew would be her saviors if the plan went south.

“Silas, if you would present the ring,” Calisto commanded, voice laced in an insincere sweetness that made her want to choke. 

Silas stepped towards her, holding out a rather simple ring; one that had no thought put into it. Why would he need to? She had to say yes; it didn’t matter if she liked him or the ring or anything about it. It was when he reached for her hand, though, that she glanced around the room once last time. The crowd was split; some were too drunk to realize how ridiculous this was. Some were  realizing that something was wrong.

And when Silas took her hand roughly, she wanted to yank it back. His hands were cold, as if he had been dead for years already. They weren’t welcoming, they weren’t caring. They were boney and calloused and felt like they weren’t even real.

As he moved to slip the ring onto her finger, though, she realized that she couldn’t do this. Even if it was all a facade, she couldn’t let this awful man put a ring on her finger and claim her as his. Not when she held the dagger against her skin. Her mind, briefly, thought back to the night she shared with Din when he asked her to marry him. If Credence so much as brushes against you, I want you to put this dagger into his jugular, Din had said. In the moment, it had been alarming to consider –but now, with her hand in the grasp of Silas Credence –

Her dagger found its place in the old man’s throat. 

She hadn’t even realized she had pulled it out; there was no weight shift in her hand. No thought outside of not letting the bastard put a ring on her finger, allowing him to claim what was only Din’s –the only thought she had was not to let them win.

And so she stabbed him, and every sound came back to the room as members of the crowd started to scream. Calisto was next, shouting at her to stop. Silas had fallen to the floor, clutching his throat where the blood seemingly would not stop pouring out. And there she stood, bloody dagger in hand, staring down at the body as if she hadn’t just killed a man.

Then, she slowly turned to her mother, who was now pointing a blaster at her head. Leia and Han pointed their own at Calisto as Din parted the crowds with their child in tow. Every stormtrooper in the room held their weapons at the attack, pointing at her specifically but she did not think anything of it. With her eyes trained on Calisto, she reached up, unpinning the cape and allowing it to drop to the floor. Her gown, while regal and formal still, was overlaid in an armor piece that covered her bodice to her throat and shoulders. Chainmail chased itself from the top of her chest piece to her throat and across her arms. But her arms were exposed, sheer fabric no more.

Her hands raised in the air as she turned to the crowd in front of her. Credence’s blood covered her hands, but her scar –with the tracking beckon still dully blinking through her skin –was exposed to the room. “This is what your queen has done to your princess,” she announced. Her voice shook, but she stood tall. “She has made me a prisoner in my own home. She killed your Senator for her own gain, and promised me off to someone to maintain that power.”

Gasps and cries echoed through the room as she pointed the dagger at her mother now. Calisto stepped to the side but she followed the movement, eyes narrowed. Din stepped forward next, with Han and Leia close on his heels. 

“I was not taken,” she continued, though her eyes never left Calisto’s movements. “I ran from the life my mother is trying to force me to have. And I will continue to run if that is what it takes.”

“There is nowhere in this galaxy you can go that I won’t find you,” Calisto sneered, motioning to the tracking device on her wrist, poised now to electrocute her. “I know all, child. I always have.”

She glanced at her arm, waiting for the shock but it never came. “You’re right, mother. You can find me, can’t you?” For a moment, she hesitated, then she turned the dagger on herself –prying the device out of her arm. The pain was like nothing she had experienced before; even when having it placed, it did not hurt as bad as her digging the blade of her knife into her arm and using it to force the chip onto the floor.

Blood dripped from her fingertips as she stepped on the device, destroying it with the heel of her shoe. Calisto was left standing speechless, shocked that her daughter actually ripped herself open. There were many things that Calisto of Senex did not know about her child –things that even she did not know until recently. 

“I am the princess of Senex,” she announced, pointing the dagger at her mother once more. “And I will not be held prisoner by you any longer.”

“Then you will be held as mine,” Gideon announced suddenly, aiming his blaster at her. Blaster fire overwhelmed the room, and suddenly she was on the floor, shielded by beskar and strong arms.

Din was right about the firefight after all.

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

[mxnkeydo]

i loved you ‘til my dying day ✧ percy jackson oneshot

✧ summary the war against gaea has finally come. percy and his friends are thrown into the battle, but when something draws him closer to his girlfriend, annabeth, he doesn’t expect it to end like it does.

✧ genre angst, sad

✧ word count 1.4K

✧ warnings foul language, mention of blood

✧ link to main masterlist

✧ a/n ok. so. i actually have no clue what i wrote because the inspo for this came late last night while i was scrolling tumblr and came across this prompt. hope this is okay (even though it is most likely trash heh) also tagging @urfriendlywriter thank you for the lovely prompt! (side note: reblogs would mean the world to me!!)

✧ ✧ ✧

Demigods are merely the gods’ pawns, Percy thinks, swinging Riptide in an arch around him. They were used, they were manipulated, and they were laughed at. Being the son of Poseidon is not as great as they all think it is.

And what’s the point when the Fates have it all planned out, anyway? What is so great in defeating all those monsters when you were just destined to die in the end?

He glances at his girlfriend, Annabeth, through all the commotion. Her blonde curls bounce as she moves like a human tornado, and a vicious scowl is seared onto her face. The demons around her visibly back off, unsure of how to approach in a non-suicidal way. In a daze, Percy proudly mutters, “That’s my girl.”

But a single moment of inactivity could cost him his life; a new batch of giants are gaining on him already, smiling like the devil had descended to take his soul. He slashes through them all with his blade, finishing them in a matter of seconds, soon staring at the empty space where they once stood. Their remains – that black, sparkling dust – float to the ground and settle in the grass. It should give him a good feeling, eliminating all of those monsters, but instead all he feels is a certain uneasiness that makes his stomach churn.

Yet, there is nothing he can do about it other than fight. Chiron said earlier that they are helping the gods, but really, they are only helping themselves. After one Great Prophecy, Percy knows that it’s all a lie, that the immortals needed them to stay alive. They managed just fine when it was only them atop Olympus. They were all just lazy and prideful and indolent and Percy has had enough.

As he’s fighting his way to the middle of the crowd he catches sight of Annabeth once more and Percy feels it again; that anxious feeling that has shivers running down his spine, like there’s a ghost breathing down his back. He turns, but there’s nothing there other than more monsters, more demons, more creatures to kill. Almost instinctively, he slices a charging hellhound in half, wincing a half-second later when he realizes it could have been Mrs. O’Leary.

His own power scares him. Percy has never admitted this truth to anyone, not even Annabeth. Sometimes, fighting in a battle was like being twelve years old again, standing back and watching his seventeen year old self slay the bad guys without batting an eye. He used to think it was some great feat, but not anymore. Death, regardless of who died, is still death.

Suddenly, a wind comes rolling their way and Percy can’t help but ease his muscles as he briefly allows it to wash over him. It’s a short, stolen moment that reminds him that the world isn’t all bloody and violent and full of vengeance. It could be beautiful too, if they let it. If they stop destroying, destroying, destroying, and start creating instead. For the first time, Percy wholly understands his girlfriend’s passion for architecture; it’s all about making something new, building something exquisite for the coming generations to admire.

For the third time, he looks at her. He feels a strange pull, like an invisible force yanking him in her direction. Percy knows his instincts are always right, but…

But nothing. His instincts are always spot on. If they tell him to go to Anmabeth’s side, then that’s exactly what he’ll do.

Percy pushes past demigods, both Greek and Roman, as they fight hard—and more importantly, fight as one. In his peripheral vision, he spots Reyna’s long braid whipping out, smacking a monster in the face. Next to her is Piper, looking like a living, breathing death wish. Put a dagger in that girl’s hand, and she turns from sugar and spice to straight up murderous. Percy thinks he sees Grover too, somewhere. His chest does a painful pang at the thought of his best friend, and that they might not see one another again.

Percy’s closer to Annabeth now, only a few feet away. He opens his mouth to call out to her, to let her know that he’s okay, to tell her that they won’t be separated ever again.

And there it is, fiercer than ever. That ominous feeling that something bad’s about to happen. Before he even knows it, Percy flings himself in front of Annabeth with a savage battlecry that manages to pierce his own ears.

Time stops. The world ceases to turn. All he can see is…

Blood.

Deep crimson blood, coming from… his sternum? Percy presses his fingers to the wound deliriously, and feels a sharp point sticking out of his torso.

Percy Jackson, age seventeen. Cause of death: a spear to the abdomen. It sounds ridiculous; he, the demigod that underwent the curse of Achilles, dying from a spear wound? Percy manages a smile as his knees wobble and bend underneath him. Riptide clatters to the ground.

“Seaweed Brain?” Her voice is distant, like he’s underwater. “Seaweed Brain–Percy, stay with me.”

Vaguely, he hears her shout for medics, for someone from the Apollo cabin, for anyone, anyone, who will help him.

“You’re going to be fine,” she assures him, frantically, but it sounds more like she’s only reassuring herself. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. As long as we’re together, remember?”

Percy tries to utter a word, but instead coughs up more blood, staining the dirt around him a sickening red. “Wise Girl, I’m fine,” he croaks with difficulty. His hand still trembling and weak rises to cup her face. “I’m– hey, look at me.”

And she does. Her eyes are red and bloodshot and grief-struck. Her once-tan skin now seems blackened and gray. “You’re bleeding,” she whispers, grabbing his outstretched hand. Her chest rises and falls with deep, desperate breaths as she laces their fingers together and places them on her heart. “I swear to all the gods, Percy, if you love me one bit you will stay conscious, you hear me?” Annabeth’s voice trembles as she tries hard to push the tears back.

“Don’t scold me,” Percy protests feebly. “Am I not in pain?”

“Percy! Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, ma’am.” He grins slightly, then winces once his eyes land on the blood pooling from his stomach. Annabeth must have noticed because she lifts his chin and kisses him hard, a year’s worth of passion and desire poured into it. When she pulls away a split second later, she’s full-on sobbing. She presses kisses to his face, to the top of his head, buries her face in his hair.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispers, and then she’s seven years old again. “Please, don’t leave me again.” She hiccups. Then: “Fuck, Percy, why would you do that? Why would you get yourself injured like this?”

“Because I love you, Wise Girl.”

“Percy—“

“No, wait. I love you. I love how your brain’s always whirring with some new plan, I love the sound of your laugh, I love the way you smile at me. I love everything about you. I want you to know.”

“Percy…stop,” Annabeth says softly. “We’re going to help you, please...”

“Remember when I fell into the canoe lake at camp? That was funny.”

“We’re in the middle of a war and you’re making jokes?” Her eyes suddenly spark furiously behind a wall of tears.

“Oh, and remember the time you nearly killed me during sparring?”

Annabeth snorted at that, her lips turning up into a trembling smile. “I destroyed you, admit it.”

“Annabeth,” Percy breathes. “I—I love you. So much.”

“No, you are not dying on me!”

“Annabeth.”

It takes her a moment to respond. “I love you too,” she says with difficulty, like the words are being ripped out of her mouth.

“Tell my mom I love her too, okay? And—and Paul. And Grover. And Frank and Hazel. Chiron, too. Everyone.”

“Percy, no, stay with me—“

He soaks in the sight of his girlfriend one last time—her stormy gray irises, her princess curls—before closing his eyes.

Annabeth shouts for the medic again—a guttural, anguished call, and it’s the last thing Percy hears before he breathes his last next to the pine tree on the border of Camp Half-Blood.

[bacchanaliae]

BABY, YOU MAKE ARMAGEDDON LOOK SO EASY ⸻ introducing yoon eunseok, d7.

wait till you hear about this next nominee: YOON EUNSEOK, born on the 8th of SEPTEMBER, 1993 and bears a striking resemblance to SONG KANG. they’re a FOURTH year BACHELOR OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION student and ACED EVERY COURSE WITHOUT AN ATTENDANCE COMPONENT — impressed yet? rumor has it they’re hoping to be the COO OF THE YOON GROUP, but personally, i think they should aim a little higher — something like the king’s club, for one. now, that suits them a little more, don’t you think? guess we’ll just have to see if they’ve got the talent for it in our upcoming recruitment round.

hello!! i'm shrimps, (25, she/they) like the fried rice, and i'm very excited to terrorize your lovely muses with my lil guy eunseokkie! i'm hoping to get around to my dms soon-ish (i'm kissing your foreheads, btw), but feel free to leave a like and i'll appear in your walls! if you'd rather plot on disco, just lmk.

BACKGROUND

pretentious nonsense full bio

tl;dr : guy who's a supporting character in his own story suffers a minor existential crisis in deciding between (a) wanting to do his own thing and (b) fulfilling the role he was quite literally created to play. unfortunately, he's made this everyone else's problem.

this is subject to change if needed to fit with e2, but i imagined the yoon family to run a silicon mining business that skyrocketed in no small part due to eunseok's father marrying into a family that manufactures semiconductors.

eunseok's father . . . now there's a real schemer. everything he did was designed to gain control of the family company, and eunseok was no exception. eunseok has grown up acutely aware of this, and is completely normal and unaffected as a result.

eunseok wasn't always a menace!! eunseok always had a predilection for mischief, but genuinely tried to be the perfect heir as a child — though he soon realized that nothing he did really mattered. if he did everything he was supposed to do, fine. that was the minimum expectation. if he acted out, the consequences would just be swept away like the trouble never happened. yoon eunseok had a very particular role to fulfill, you see, and something like proper parenting wasn't going to get in the way of eunseok's father's plan to take over the family company.

and so a monster was born.

2013 (+ 2016) : invited to the club to terrorize the other initiates. wish i was joking about this one. driven to succeed because (a) he plays to win and this is the sort of environment he thrives in, unfortunately, and (b) as a fuck you to the other initiates in his class. interestingly, the actual benefits of being in the king's club are at most a tertiary motivation to eunseok — i guess one of the weaknesses of never concocting your own schemes is that you aren't great at long-term planning. throws notorious parties. kinda notorious, period — there are rumors that he'll hook up with anyone tall and beautiful, regardless of gender (this is true); that he races mclarens on the weekends (this is false); and that he bribed (true), slept with (false), and physically threatened (technically false) his way to the top end of the class. endlessly ambitious and seemingly insatiable, you might be wondering: what's the point, if eunseok's whole deal is that he'll trot obediently back to daddy's side when the man calls?

well, i'm not saying that it's the painful crash at the end. but i'm not not saying that, either. i don't think eunseok really knows, himself.

2024 : the pawn is put in play; the dog is leashed. placed as an evp somewhere, then named coo upon his father's ascension to ceo/chairman/whatever. appears to have chilled out dramatically, but time will tell whether this is maturity, resignation, or mere suppression. :)))))))

PERSONALITY

entj. waffles between chaotic neutral and chaotic evil.

character inspo/parallels include roman roy, sylvain gautier, dorian gray, the cuntier end of taemin's solo discography (stream eternal out aug 19!!!!), the weeknd's trilogy album, nero, and lestat de lioncourt. also my uni roommate's various finance-bro exes. lmao.

all of this to say: think of the most annoying guy you know. think of a shark in the water. think of a poorly-trained bloodhound let off the leash. think of blood, generally — something slick and thrumming and visceral. if eunseok wants something, he will take it, because honestly? eight times out of ten, the taking is what he really wants, in the end.

weirdly intense but deeply unserious lol.

he's no master manipulator . . . moreso a cudgel lol. does very little plotting for how often he seems to be Making Moves(tm). how things never really come back to bite him should be studied in a lab, or maybe made into a hbs case study, but he's smarter than most people give him credit for, particularly in actual business management (unironically i think he would thrive as a logistics guy), but he cares little for mind games and saving face and also likes baiting fights for fun so. yeah.

thinks everyone playing nice is a hypocrite and a dummy! comes across as super arrogant but like in his mind . . . he's just being honest? like, yeah. he's rich. he wins a lot. by virtue of him winning, someone else, e.g., you, are a loser. life is short so why are we wasting time pretending otherwise?

ooough i wanna punch eunseok just reading this back. ironically i'd still absolutely go to the club with him because despite it all you know our boy is good fun. also you'll probably leave with an insane story. but i digress.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

these r. rough but! i'm really very open to brainstorming!!

a childhood friend — someone who witnessed eunseok's various metamorphoses and who is probably the only person, other than eunseok's father, who was unsurprised when eunseok fell in line after graduation. i'm flexible re: the exact contours of the relationship (ride or dies for life! drifted apart! bitter enemies), but i like the idea of someone knowing eunseok better than he knows himself.

2024 : if yr muse is involved with electronics: i present to u the (pending) heir of korea's largest semiconductor manufacturer. mwah ok.

2016 : love, hate, whatever — the point is that eunseok is used to evoking strong reactions. your muse, however, doesn't seem to care at all, nonreactive to flirtation and fury, and that really doesn't sit well with eunseok. tensions are high; maybe this volatility comes to a head.

2016 : alternately, maybe an initiate who has gotten the idea of gaining eunseok's approval into their head (get well soon!). get ready to have your time supremely wasted, buddy.

2016 : another envelope-pusher. yeah, the king's club parties, but you two party, making recklessness a game.

2016 (+2024, maybe!) : the person whose door eunseok finds himself stumbling to when the party's over. in the haze between intoxication and sobriety, you get to see a eunseok that even eunseok doesn't get to see — one that voices insecurities and worries. it's a weird sense of trust, and not even one necessarily tied to fondness (though it could be!). it could also be fun, i think, if they didn't keep in touch but for eunseok drunk-dialing your muse. that'll make the reunion exciting, eh!!

friends. enemies. flings. i don't necessarily know that eunseok's capable of holding down a relationship but i think it could be funny to see him try. in 2024 his family's probably trying to set him up with someone, so that could be something, maybe?

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Cheat

Summary: You’re Neal’s fiancée, but you’re in Andy’s bed.

Pairing: Andy Barber x black!reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, daddy kink, look there’s like a plot but it’s porn let’s be real 🤷🏾‍♀️

(A/N: this is really short 😭 I just kinda threw something together when inspo hit me and didn’t want to over think.

I must also add that I have no idea what my fascination to cheating is when it comes to Andy Barber, but clearly I’m fucking obsessed and I have issues.

Anyway like and reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122

——————————————————————————

You knew you shouldn’t have been there with him. Everything in you had told you to go home to your fiancé or whatever he was now. That even though you were mad at Neal he didn’t deserve any of this.

Instead you met every single thrust as Andy rammed his dick into your pussy like he owned it. You looked down at your engagement ring, but before any guilt could hit you all trace of thought seemed to vanish from your head. Not that Neal was bad in bed or anything you just hadn’t expected for Andy to fuck you like this. Splitting you wide open until you weren’t sure if you could ever completely take what he was giving you.

“Does he fuck you like this?” He asked, with a grip on your hips as he pounded I’m. You hated to admit that no he didn’t. That he was into a softer side that up until now you thought was enough. “Fucking slut, answer me.”

“No, Daddy. He doesn’t fuck me good like you.” You weren’t even sure how you got to this point. Calling him Daddy. You’d never been so depraved before. And fuck you loved it. Even though you knew you’d hate yourself in the morning.

All those times you’d been warned about getting close. Knew that they’d talked about Andy staying away. Not that he listen. You thought he needed a friend. Turned out your soon to be husband was right and he was using his status as newly widowed in mourning to get you right where he wanted. In his bed.

The worst part is that as much as that nagging feeling in your head had told you to stop this you kept going. When he kissed you after using you as a shoulder to cry on. When he carried you upstairs. Then when you hurried to take off your clothes. It was like you were on autopilot. Drunk off of lust and not thinking about who you might hurt.

This wasn’t even your first round. He’d started off by eating you out. Tasting your pussy until you were cumming in his mouth. Fuck he was talented with his tongue because by the time he was down your body was convulsing and he didn’t even care as he crawled up your body to shove himself inside of you.

You knew they’d had beef before. Especially with the way Neal had grilled him during the trial. Then afterwards during the hearing after the car crash right before Laurie had passed which only added insult to injury. You knew he was just doing his job, but as his former mentor you can see why Andy had taken it so personally. Why he’d set his sights on you for payback.

Yet there you were throwing four years down the drain as Andy Barber fucked you into submission. “Fuck, Daddy!” You cried, pressing your face into the sheets.

“That’s it. This is my pussy,” he said in that condescending tone and all you could do was reach behind you so you could spread your ass so he could go in deeper. “You hear me? Not gonna let anyone else touch your Daddy’s pussy, right?”

“No,” you sobbed, drool dribbling out of your mouth. “It’s yours. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

“Gonna leave him for me?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Yes, Daddy. I wanna be yours.” Fuck you sounded pathetic.

“What a good little slut.” He chuckled because what man wouldn’t be estatic to fuck his enemy’s girl.

Then when he came deep in your cunt you didn’t even tell him to pull out. Letting him and wanting him to fill you to the brim with his hot cum. You had no idea what you were thinking. Except that you weren’t.

Then you’d fucking pillow talked while he held you close, kissing you, making you laugh before doing it all over again and then again and again and again. You knew you were a pawn in some game and the worst part you didn’t even care. Even ignoring the calls and texts from Neal apologizing for the fight which led you here.

Besides you know what they say, ‘a shoulder to cry on becomes a dick to ride on.’

[account-archived]

would you be able to make a snape imagine/headcanon with what he’s like when he gets needy with y/n please? Only if it strikes inspo for you ofc there’s no pressure :)

I am so happy to get this request because quite frankly, I think about it a lot. Needy Severus is my favorite Severus. I’m taking this and running with it. I hope you don’t mind I’ve made Y/N a fellow teacher at Hogwarts because that’s a trope I will die for. 

He really didn’t get enough love as a child or as an adult for that matter, so when you tell him you love him, he really doesn’t know how to take it.

It’ll be a while before he opens up to you, but once you get past that grumpy, bitter exterior you’ll see a whole new side of him you wouldn’t have expected.

Severus will be needy both physically and emotionally, always needing reassurance that you don’t hate him. He has a lot of guilt about the things he’s done in his past and he will constantly try to convince you that you deserve someone better, though secretly he’s very selfish about keeping you all to himself.

If you can manage to get close enough to share a bedroom with him, you’ll find he prefers to be the little spoon when he cuddles. I don’t make the rules, that’s just his preference. He enjoys the way your arms wrap around his waist and he can kind of just curl up and disappear for the few hours of sleep he allows himself to get.

In public, he will be more stiff about physical affection, but he will take every opportunity to brush his hand against yours or sit near you in the Great Hall. As soon as the two of you are alone he will be wrapping you up in his cloak and hiding his face in your hair, refusing to let you go so you two can make up for lost time.

Prepare to be there for him after meetings with Voldemort or Dumbledore. This man is tired of being used and will need you there to remind him he’s more than just a pawn. He can’t tell you much about his loyalty to either men, but he trusts you enough to tell you he’s sick of it.

And then there’s Lily. He has done everything for Lily, but not anymore. Now he has you and he is terrified of messing up and losing you. He hates arguing with you and each time he’s even a little bit cross with you, he expects you to ice him out and run away. And he wouldn’t blame you.

Forget everything you think you know about this man, he is a bottom at least 90% of the time. He spends so much time in his classroom trying to be a figure of authority, but it’s just a resolve. He hates that he has zero control of his life, but you make him feel a little safer about surrendering power.

This man has PTSD. Everything from his childhood to his miserable life as a teacher has made this man bitter and rigid. With everyone else, he will respond to his emotions by either shutting them off or lashing out in anger, but with you he feels like a vulnerable, lost child who just needs to be taken care of.

After a nightmare or a particularly stressful day, he just wants you to read to him and play with his hair. If his hair is greasy from brewing potions all day, he might enjoy having it washed as well.

Really he just wants the love he never got as an adolescent and once you show him even a shred of that, he will never leave you. 

Account moved to @empressofalderaan

[lukescaboose]

Forgetting You

It’s currently 3:30 am here in New York and I’ve been up writing this angsty Luke fic because we all know I love nothing more. And yes this is the part two to Don’t touch me if you don’t want me. I bet you could totally guess what songs I used as inspo for this. But overall I hope you enjoy this and are satisfied. 

Warnings: angst

Wordcount: 4785

It’d been six months. Six long stressful months filled with heartbreak, stress, and anything but peace. It felt like forever. Forever since I felt like a had my sanity. Lately I had been feeling like I was completely losing my mind. And Luke was to blame. He didn’t believe me when I said I wouldn’t come back to him. I meant it with everything I had in me. I knew my worth and I knew that sometimes love wasn’t enough. I refused to be a pawn in his game.

Of course it’s been hard. Ignoring his texts and emails and phone calls was the hardest part. Every time I saw his name somewhere I wanted to pick up the phone to call him and let him know that I was alright. I wanted to be with him, so fucking badly, but I refused to be used. I didn’t like how he made me feel disposable, like I was so completely worthless to him. He was my everything, whether he knew it or not. The time that I spent with him, I spent loving him. There was never a moment I doubted my love for him. Many times I thought he would be the one I would marry. But, he broke me too easily and I never wanted to feel that again. He did something I thought he’d never do. I never wanted him to think that I was any less important than his work. He made a commitment to me, and if he wasn’t willing to compromise that was his choice. He’d made the choice and I stepped out of the way, making it easier for him. He failed to treat me like a human being. I was nothing more than an accessory to him. 

It took me a while to come to terms with that, that part of my life was over. I didn’t have a partner anymore. There was no one I was willing to share this life with. After crashing at my sisters for a while and then gathering myself up and renting an apartment, I felt ready to move on. I rid him from my life piece by piece in stages. First was the crying, the long nights of screaming and wondering how he could do this to me. Next was the ignorance. Pretending it had never happened, not looking at pictures and ignoring songs that made me think of him. I was void of any feeling at this time, a hollow remainder of what was left of me after Luke. I had finally recognized that half of me was missing and it was showing. I felt as if I couldn’t function. I wanted so hard to crawl back to him just to fill the hole that he had wrecked. But, I stayed strong and reminded myself why I needed to go. Love wasn’t enough. Lastly, after coming to terms with the situation in its entirety, I let myself enjoy the things that made me think of Luke. I wanted to remember the relationship for the good that it was and not the shitty way it had ended. So I listened to the music, and I viewed the photos. And through empty tears I went back to our old house and packed away my things. 

Entering our bedroom had been the hardest part. The bed was made on my side only, as if I had never left. His side was messy because he could never make the bed on his own and the sight had made me smile, he hadn’t changed. In the kitchen things were messy so I cleaned them up, I felt it was the least I could do. It would be selfish of me to believe that Luke wasn’t hurting too, but I knew that this would be better for both of us. He needed to figure things out with his career and I needed my space to just be me. And he needed to just be him. As I put away the dishes, I recognized my favorite mug in the same spot I had left it. My thumb swiped over the cool porcelain of the stained rim. My favorite lipstick I wore everyday faded on the white paint. A sigh left my lips and my brain went to the first place it always had whenever I saw something that reminded me of us. I began to wonder what things could’ve been like. I wondered if I had fought hard enough, if I was just overreacting. Ultimately, I blamed the failed relationship on young love. The time we spent together may have been too much. Maybe this was inevitable. If it were meant to be maybe we would find our way back to each other. 

When I wasn’t selfishly absorbed with my own pain and suffering, I thought about his. I wondered if he were okay, if he was confiding in anyone else. I wanted his happiness and nothing else. Everyone deserves to be happy. Even if I wasn’t, I hoped that he could be. I hoped that he could find happiness in his music and that he would surround himself with friends that cared about him. I knew he had a habit of bottling things inside so I hoped that he wouldn’t do that. I hoped that he would talk to someone and not let it eat him alive. But sometimes, sometimes my sadistic mind chose to believe that he wasn’t unhappy at all. That this was what he wanted, even though I knew it wasn’t true. I always answered his phone calls at least once during the week, sometimes more, just to talk. He always said that he was miserable, the worst he’d ever felt and was so completely sorry and I believed him. I believed that he was sorry, but I also believed that there was truth in the words that he spoke that day. In the words that he spoke that entire week. The memory of mistreatment outweighed my selfish need for toxic love and it was enough to keep me away from him. He knew exactly how I felt about us, I was never one to string someone along. It was just last week that I had convinced him that this was what would be best for us. Luke understood where I was coming from, I’d always been the better one at communicating. I expressed my wish for him to be happy, which only led to him screaming and crying and more heartbreak, so I never brought that up again. I would just let him talk because I knew he needed it. I knew in the back of my mind that he wasn’t talking to anyone else. But, it wasn’t healthy. So as time went on the phone calls happened less and less. We needed this. We needed to seek suffrage in other things, in other people.

But, today was six months since. I was feeling extremely down today, as if the world around me was caving in. All day I had felt this crushing on my chest that I couldn’t explain. I needed to talk to him so badly. I knew he would be the only one who could ease the suffering in my heart. And that was exactly the problem. The suffering was him. His lingering atmosphere that had resonated itself within me. For some reason I couldn’t shake the piece of me that was him. Although it was small now, it was still there and gnawing. I needed it to be gone but the temporary relief was sometimes so much better. All day I paced around the phone, my thumb scrolling over his number which was no longer saved in my phone. I searched for it in my call log, I typed it out by heart, but I never let it ring. I knew this was bad. I knew I should just wait it out. This too would pass. But the more this feeling sat on my chest the more I thought about ringing him.

He was on tour now, the shows starting in Europe and going on from there. I knew how this worked. He was going to be gone for a while. So, instead of calling him, I masochistically drove the old road towards the house I knew he was still living in. I unlocked the door with a sigh, slightly relieved that nothing had changed. I knew it was kind of sick for me to keep coming here. It was messed up of me to invade his space, to leave traces of myself when I knew exactly how hard it was to forget. But this was solace to me. I couldn’t help myself as selfish as it was. I didn’t go into the bedroom this time, I stayed in the front lasting all of five minutes before I ran out in a hurry. I felt like such a monster. I was rewarding myself with the allowances to revisit things of my past while he got nothing. Luke had to forget and move on by himself and here I was, entering his home, looking at his things and reassuring myself that he was still hurting. I sat in the driveway of our old house, my head in my hands. The tears spilled over and I let them. I should’ve fought more, I thought. I should’ve gave him another chance. I shouldn’t have let this slip away that easy. Love like that doesn’t happen always. And as much as I had believed that I was fixing myself, I was really ruining Luke. I was the real asshole here. I allowed him to talk to me on my okay. I used his confessions as measurements of my own progress. He spoke to me in solitude and I spoke to him in reassurance. I loved him. I still love him. But all of this was so hard. I wanted to live on, I wanted to be happy. But at the same time, I wanted to tell Luke that I loved him and I knew that’s what he wanted to hear.

 It was late when I got home again, my apartment was dark. I hadn’t anticipated to be gone for so long, so I didn’t leave on any lights. I sighed in exhaustion as I sat on the couch in the dark, my head full with thought of Luke. I checked and rechecked the time, each time counting the hours to see what time it was where he was. I felt as if I were starting from square one. All the progress I had made felt minuscule now as I dialed and redialed his number. I contemplated calling over and over again, knowing how good it would feel to hear his voice. After an hour I gave in. He was active on social media and I needed this. This, as always, was for me. I would succumb just this once. The phone rang and rang, and, for a minute, I thought he would just let it go. But when the line clicked and he muttered a ‘hello’ I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.

 “Hi.” I breathed into the line. My voice was a mere whisper and I wondered if I should repeat myself in case he hadn’t heard. But he did, his voice came through the line hoarse. “You never call first. Are you okay?” I held my hand over my mouth to muffle my heavy breathing. I felt like a complete and utter prick. Here he was not letting himself forget all the things about me and I was using him to get over him. I knew Luke, like the back of my hand. He was making no efforts to forget me. “I-I’m fine. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called. T-This was selfish of me.” I ended the call despite his pleas and didn’t answer when he called back.

 I hadn’t contacted him since. No more petty phone calls, no more late night messaging. I was actively moving on. I didn’t even reminisce anymore. I didn’t avoid the memories, but I didn’t purposefully indulge in them either. When I saw something it hurt less and I would move on quickly. The sadness would fade with time. With Luke on tour things were easy. I didn’t have to worry about seeing him anywhere. I did shed a tear collecting my things from his house and I threw my key far off a bridge in a fit of senseless rage. I spent most of my time with my family and focusing on my own career. My sister, Mara, was pregnant again so we spent a lot of time with that. Redecorating the nursery for the boy she was soon to have. There were parties and dinners that I attended on my own now. I rekindled some flames with old friends, the inevitable question of Luke became easier to answer as time went on. Life was simple, and for once I was genuinely happy. I wasn’t dating, but I’d been out for drink a few times, nothing commitment worthy. I still wondered if Luke was okay and if he was doing well. Every once in a while he’d send a text, knowing I wouldn’t answer his calls. They were often updates on how the tour was going, and how he still wanted me to be included in his life. But, I knew I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t be platonic with Luke and I knew he couldn’t be platonic with me. 

I was going out tonight with a group of friends to a bar further out in the city. We had arranged some hotels close by, and I was honestly excited for the evening. As I prepared for the evening I grew more excited. It would be a new bar with new people. I’d moved back in with my sister, Mara, and her husband, Jason. This pregnancy hadn’t been easy for her, and Jason was working more hours to build up their savings so he could take some time off when the baby came. So I decided to come back to help with the twins so she could rest more. My work schedule was flexible, so lately I’d been in charge of picking up the girls from school. I honestly didn’t mind helping out Mara, it kept my mind off of things. I was hoping I could have some fun tonight. That for once I would be able to just let go and be free. I wanted to get drunk and go to sleep in some nice hotel, in a place I’d never been before. I did my makeup really nice and packed a small bag. My friend, Lindsay, would be the designated driver for the night. She was the life of the party sober or not and I completely trusted her to stay sober and potentially keep an eye on me. I was dealing with heartbreak and alcohol had been my go to lately. Whenever we went out I was the first one hammered and the last one home. Lindsay was full aware of what to expect and had even taunted me about through text. 

When we arrived at the bar her taunting hadn’t ceased. I rolled my eyes at her lovingly, heading straight for the counter when we got inside. The bar was more like a club, people flooded the dance floor, dancing to the steady thump of the music. My hips swayed unbeknownst to me as I order my usually martini. Lindsay rolled her eyes at me, watching the door for the rest of our group. There were five of us in total, including myself. Lindsay, Brett, Nina, and Tom being my friends. I was always the odd one out being single and all. This was me and Luke’s old group of friends that I kind of abandoned after we broke up. I can admit now that I was a bit embarrassed and too jealous to hang out with them while I was single. But after some months of self rehabilitation, they welcomed me back with open arms and all conversation of Luke was void after a while. Conversation was always good, there was never a need for his mentioning. But when someone would tell an old story about the group, a sad smile would cover my features. It became easier and soon I was telling the stories myself. 

After and hour or so, I was on my way to drunk. I danced with my friends on the dance floor, they never left me out and I was grateful. I danced with strangers, girls and guys alike. I was genuinely having fun, the smile on my face real. The alcohol fueled me as my hips took the lead over me, my feet moving with the beat of the music. I hadn’t noticed everyone leaving for another round of drinks at the bar. I was too entranced with the music and my current dance partner as my hair framed around my face and my head swung back and forth. My hands were in the air, one in my hair as I swayed to the beat. The guy I was dancing with didn’t seem to mind my lack of interest in him. I was too focused on making sure I was having a good time to reciprocate any type of flirting. His hands held my hips lightly and he seemed more than content with just dancing. I looked around for Lindsay and she shot me a smile from the emptying bar. She was cuddled in Tom’s arms as he sipped on his beer. I liked how they didn’t feel the need to hide their relationships from me. At first they did. No one touched or cuddled in front of me. Any conversation turned romantic would stop immediately if I were even if listening distance. It took awhile and a lot of reassuring to convince them that I was fine, or would be fine. I was grateful that they were making sure if it. I didn’t feel the jealous twang I usually felt. I couldn’t decide if it were the alcohol or if I were genuinely moving on. But as I turned back around when I couldn’t feel my dance partner’s hands anymore, I knew it was the alcohol.

He stood there, hands in his pockets. His favorite leather jacket seemed to fit so perfectly over his shoulders, and I almost laughed at how insane this was. I almost didn’t believe what I was seeing until I felt Nina’s hand on my shoulder and her whispering into my ear, asking if I wanted to leave. He hadn’t said anything so I was finding it hard to believe that she was seeing what I saw. His silhouette was glowing behind the purple-blue lighting of the nightclub. His expression was solemn, pleading even, and my smile faded when I fully realized that this was real. This was happening. And he was here. I stumbled back in my heels and he reached out to grab my wrist. Nina’s hand was at my waist in an instant, her eyes worry filled. I stepped out of her hold, knowing that I would have to deal with this. I couldn’t run from him forever, as much as I would love to. He’d been so far out of my mind that I had forgotten this was the weekend that he was performing here. And as I looked across the bar I could see Calum and Ashton’s figures. My heart began to ache when I made eye contact with them. Their smiles were soft and apologetic and I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed them until that moment. My head was dizzy with a thousand thoughts as my brain focused in on Luke’s touch on my wrist. I pulled away, ignoring the way his face fell. He should’ve expected me to act this way. This wasn’t on my list of things to do tonight. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked after I assured Nina that it was okay. I could see her giving Luke a look that I could only place as longing. And for some reason it had never dawned on me that my group of friends might miss Luke too. We had done so much damage to those around us and ourselves and we hadn’t even realized. 

“I’m just out.” I shrugged. Luke sighed, grabbing my wrist in his strong hold and leading me off the dance floor. I let him without reluctance. The alcohol in my system was submitting to him, but it wouldn’t be enough for my forgiveness. “We played near here tonight.” He played with his fingers as he talked, a nervous habit of his. I nodded, my arms coming up to cross over my chest. “God,” He muttered. He ran his hand over his face frustratedly, as if he were struggling with what to say. There was so much I wanted to say, but my mouth was mute and my brain was fried. I was void of any coherent thought in the moment, and as my eyes just stared at his features, I prayed that he would come up with anything just to keep the conversation going. He looked more handsome than I remembered. His nails were painted red and his hair was much longer. He had the same stubble across his jaw that I wanted to scratch my fingers over. “Look, I know you’ve moved on, but I,” His breath became shaky before he could even start and I knew this had been extremely hard for him. Instinctively, my hand rose up to cup his cheek as he bit his lip and his eyes shone. His eyes snapped back to mine at my touch and I pulled my hand away, curling it into a fist as a blush crept up my neck.

 “I’m sorry. I just,” I began to apologize but he stopped me, his words coming out in his usual nervous hurry. “It’s okay. I missed you.” He blurts the words out before he can catch them and even in the darkness, I can see the red brightening in his cheeks. We stood there both blushing like a couple of teenagers doing this for the first time. Although, this did feel like a first. This was the first time I was seeing him in almost a year. Everything felt different, everything we were holding on to was now here in front of us and we were completely at a loss for words. The drunken part of me wanted to take him back to my hotel and show him everything he had missed, make him regret ever leaving me. But even drunk me knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

Luke takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders off before he speaks again, “I am in love with you. I have never stopped loving you for a second, even though you think that. And I know here may not be the most appropriate place to tell you, but I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see you again, and I need you to know. I cannot live another second knowing that you believe that I stopped loving you, that I didn’t want you. I took your love for granted, Y/N, and for that I am so incredibly sorry.” He wipes at the corner of his eye as he becomes the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him. I’m at a loss for words at his confession. It’s everything I’ve wanted him to say for the past year and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. Part of me wants to just forget that anything ever happened, but more of me was proud of what I had accomplished without him. I couldn’t decide if love were enough yet again. My pride wouldn’t let me give in that easy. 

“Luke, I don’t want you to be miserable without me. Look at everything you’ve got going on. You’re doing great, you don’t need me.” I assure, my hands gesturing between us. His eyebrows furrow in a way I’ve seen too many times before. “None of it means anything if I can’t share it with you.” He responds, stepping closer. I take a half step back, not wanting the space between us to be too much. I can feel the tears filling in my eyes as I shake my head. “I can’t love you anymore, Luke.” My hands bunch at my sides, my body racking with nerves.

 “Y/N, what are you so afraid of? Why won’t you just love me? I’m standing in the middle of a nightclub fucking crying, and all I want is for you to love me.” He pulls me to him then and I let him, knowing there’s no place I’d rather be. His chest presses to mine and the familiarity of it sends a rush of bottled up emotions through me. I rest my head on his chest in utter defeat. All of this was exhausting. I didn’t want to argue, I didn’t want to avoid him. I just wanted to dance and get drunk with my friends. He holds me to him, his chin resting on top of my head and I feel at home. I wondered if anything else in life could feel this good. I wondered if I could feel this way for anyone else. “I regret every moment I spent away from you. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about all the terrible shit I put you through. I’m sorry, baby.” His apology is like the healing I’d been searching for. His words seem to fill the empty void in my heart and I feel whole again. “I cannot exist without you and I should’ve realized that sooner. I made such a stupid mistake and I would do anything to change it.” His mouth moves softly over my ear, saying words only I can hear. I want to do nothing more than to shush, hold him in my arms and promise that everything will be fine. I’m stood there in silence and his hands hold me tighter, in fear that I might slip away. 

It felt so easy to run back to him and forget. Too easy that I didn’t know if that was what I wanted. Of course I knew that’s what I wanted but, I didn’t know if it was what was best for me. I needed stability and that wasn’t promised with Luke. I could tell that he had changed, but I wasn’t convinced if I were in the right position at this moment in time to make such a decision. My heart wanted him with everything in me and there was no doubt about that. I wanted him in my arms to hold. I wanted to wait for him at home when he went on tour. I wanted to go to his shows and feel his energy from the stage. I wanted him and everything that came with his love. My hands rested on his chest to reassure him that I was listening and he was being heard. He bravely placed a kiss to the shell of my ear. The same old shiver ran down my spine but this time renewed. This was my life. This was my worst heartache and yet my favorite love all in one. 

“How long are you here for?” I asked, a hint of a smile in my tone. He immediately caught my shift in energy like I knew he would and I was secretly happy that we were still in tune. “Flight leaves on Tuesday.” He breathes the same way he always did when discussing his work schedule. I nod and pull away from his touch. He’s quick to pull me back to his chest, not wanting to let me go. “We’ll talk when I’m sober.” I hum when he buries his face in my neck. I’m falling harder than I did the first time, and although it should worry me, it doesn’t. He chuckles against my skin, pulling away to look me in the eyes. His blue eyes mesmerize me in the same way they always have, my knees quaking. “I love you.” Luke says. He pulls his lip in between his teeth. “I hope so.” I sigh, stepping back from his touch. I’m leaving the bar soon enough with Lindsay badgering me with a thousand questions and I can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. For once I was letting myself give someone a second chance. This has been the greatest love I’ve ever known, and for that I was willing to risk it all. 

Thanks for reading!

6.18.18 x

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