#i need to stay busy always or i feel worthless

[i-love-tubbs-the-cat]

my life feels like never ending work i really resent it sometimes

[prettyboykatsuki]

I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU

✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+

✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)

✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you

so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.

✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.

Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way. 

He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables. 

He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible. 

It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business. 

And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.

It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little. 

That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go 

You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent  learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person. 

So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you. 

And also because the sheer  magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed. 

He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous. 

Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.

It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.

It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.

You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top. 

Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.

There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love. 

And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other. 

“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.” 

After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.

Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma. 

Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly. 

And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.

Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.

So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in. 

The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you. 

Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really.  He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.

But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely. 

He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments. 

“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”

He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort. 

“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”

You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch. 

“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”

Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.

“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.” 

“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”

He feels unsteady but so happy. 

“Thank you, my love.”

“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”

The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck. 

“The bed…?”

You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.

“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”

“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice. 

You tilt your head to one side, leaning  back on your palms. 

“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.” 

He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“

“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.

“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it. 

“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”

He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle. 

“Well, what do you want?”

“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”

“So romantic.”

“Right? So get up here.” 

He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy  before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement. 

“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.

“Yeah. Smells like you,” 

“So cute.” 

“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger. 

“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?” 

“Yeah. Yes.” 

“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.” 

“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.” 

“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”

He flushes slightly. 

“Force of habit. My point stands.” 

“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.” 

He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin. 

“Kiss me.” 

He looks at you apologetically. 

“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.” 

“Okay, but it can lead to them.” 

“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“Wait, no.” 

“Then kiss me.” 

He sighs. 

“Just kissing, okay?” 

“Okay, you monk.” 

He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy. 

He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light. 

“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears. 

“We are just kissing though?” 

“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of. 

“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.” 

“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin. 

“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?” 

Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look  in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least. 

“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly. 

“Yeah? Then why can’t we?” 

“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.” 

“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?” 

“What if it gets all messed up?” 

“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.” 

He groans at your vulgarity before laughing. 

“I’m being serious!” 

“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.” 

He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly. 

“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.” 

He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression. 

“You’re being unfair.”  

“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.” 

He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one. 

Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough. 

Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you. 

“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in. 

“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”

“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”  

“Doing what?”

Oh. This is… 

Oh.

“I’ve never seen you naked.”

“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.” 

“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”

You stare at him. You’re so cheeky. 

“You wanna?”

“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”

A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything. 

The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.

He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head. 

“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.” 

That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress. 

Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders? 

In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”

And your reply is about all the permission he needs. 

“Then take me,” 

Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other. 

You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other. 

He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you. 

He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind. 

“That feel good, Yuta?” 

“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.” 

You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much. 

But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder. 

“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?” 

Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.

Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next -  you put your legs up to slide them off. 

There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.

 Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you. 

Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide. 

“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you. 

“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you. 

“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”  

You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you. 

His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.

“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,” 

“You’re pretty too, Yuta.” 

He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.

 He wants to shatter you completely. 

He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it. 

He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.

He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation. 

Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you. 

Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and  not enough at the same time.  It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky. 

He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful. 

“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,” 

He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away. 

“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,” 

You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again. 

“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,” 

The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering. 

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.”  And you laugh again even louder. 

“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.”  You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again. 

He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks. 

“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”

“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”

“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded. 

“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.” 

“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,” 

The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight. 

He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence. 

If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind. 

He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs. 

He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them. 

You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him. 

“O-oh, Yuta.” 

He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him. 

“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,” 

A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking. 

He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace. 

And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 

“Don’t t-tease so much,”  You pant. 

Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another. 

He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 

Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him. 

Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. 

Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third. 

You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss. 

“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.” 

He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”

You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself. 

“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?” 

“Treat me?” 

“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?” 

“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?” 

You smile at him. 

“Lay on your back, sweet boy.” 

Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to. 

You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up. 

Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long. 

You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him. 

“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?” 

Yuta just swallows. 

Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy. 

“Want me to go slower?” 

“Please be nice.” 

You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this. 

He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got. 

Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up. 

“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?” 

Yuta groans. 

“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 

It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you. 

When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs. 

“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh. 

“I love you too, Yuta.” 

__ 

After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets. 

Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 

“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?” 

Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression. 

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” 

[lady-of-tearshed]

Blinded

Azriel x Reader

Summary:

Word count: angst, feeling worthless, yelling, cursing, betrayal, jealousy, big sad people, pregnancy (Elucien), injuries, violence. Yup.

A/N: Honestly? Be prepared. 🤣💕

Again, thank you @sarawritestories for always giving me to kick in the butt I need when I'm stuck! 💕 Thanks @milswrites for the moral support too ily 🥰

Azriel was staring at your lips. Those full sultry lips painted with that same shade of pink Elain loves to wear.

Only, you weren’t Elain.

He tried to convince himself that he could get over it, get over Elain. He could love, praise, and touch another female without thinking about her.

Could he?

“Az?” You whisper, each one of your rapid breaths formed a cloud that filled the small gap between yours and Azriel’s face. His grip on your hips loosened as he snapped back into reality. He gulped down his shame. Shit. Your eyes, so soft, and loving, and pure filled with concern, Azriel’s stomach dropped. “Are you alright?” She stroked his face, his lips. His lips were still swollen from the kiss…

From the kiss that he fantasized about sharing with another woman.

He tried to shake the thought of Elain away, tried to ignore his shadows whispering wrong, wrong, wrong in his ears. He could do it, he knew it. You were kind, very pretty, caring… “Yeah,” He whispered, before attacking your lips once again. The kiss was feral, rough. His lips were crashing hard against yours, teeth clashing, as he tried so desperately to forget about Elain’s softness.

Your heart was beating in sync with the loud, yet distant busy chatting of the crowd at Rita’s, situated not far from the gloomy alley you and Azriel had stumbled out to. The frenzy was too intense for you to wait before touching him, tasting him, smelling him. Your lips parted when the exposed skin, compliments to the deep cut of your dress that barely covered your body, collided with the cool surface. The earthy and vigorous taste of the wine you had imbibed earlier that night filled his own mouth as his tongue caressed yours.

Elain would’ve drank something sweet, or fruity.

He slowly pulled away from you, his thumb grazing the exposed skin on the small of your back. It sent shivers up your spine, and your nipples hardened. He stared at you, observed how red your cheeks were, how his lips had smushed your lipstick, how the smell of you changed from your arousal. But the love and adoration that shone into those eyes, your eyes, felt like a stab in his cruel heart.

He couldn’t do this.

“Let me fly you back home,” His voice was raspy. He tried to give you a genuine smile, and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his fingers combing through your now very disheveled hair. “Will you be staying?” He wanted to drown in the cauldron and succumb from his sorrows at the sound of your pleading, hopeful tone.

“Another night, when we’ll both be sober.” He lied. They had talked and danced more than they had to drink, he was far from drunk, and you too. But you just shrugged, offering him a kind and comprehensive smile. “Okay,” Was all that you’ve answered, before he picked you up into his arms and led you through the clear night sky.

He dropped you off, bowed his head, and said “Thank you, for tonight,” before flying away without another word. He didn’t even kiss you goodnight.

—

The sky was clear, and the weather started to warm up in Velaris. You had gone shopping for lighter dresses today, and couldn’t wait to come back home and swirl in them for your Illyrian to see, since he had been too busy to spend the morning with you. There were always piles of paperworks lingering on his desk, you couldn’t blame him.

You turned on yourself in the mirror, admiring the last dress you had to try on. It was the prettiest, the deep blue fabric instantly drew you in. It was the exact same blue of Azriel’s siphons. “So, what do you think!” You beamed, spinning around to look into those pretty shades of hazel dancing in his eyes. Your toes were curling in your shoes, excited to get his reaction on your newest, and now favorite, piece of clothing.

“Mhm,” He hums absent-mindedly. Your face dropped, and your eyes turned a tad more glossy than normal. You lifted your chin up, and instead of exploding with rage, or bursting in tears, you cleared your throat as a last attempt to get his attention.

Desperate, pathetic.

Azriel lifted up his head at last, his eyes quickly scanned you, and he gave you a tiny smirk of approval, accompanied by a small nod of his head. “You look good, baby,” He adds, only for good measure.

Good. Not stunning, not flawless, not delightful, not ravishing… Just good. You noticed how Azriel’s eyes drifted back to whatever paperwork he was doing the second you turned back around to face yourself in the mirror, you noticed how his gaze did not linger on any of your features for one second. The shadowsinger had always been a man of few words, showing his love mostly through actions. But lately… lately he was also a man of few actions.

You gulped down your tears, maybe he was just busier than usual, you thought, and yet… You pinched your arm, mentally scolding yourself for being so selfish. Azriel worked hard, he always bought you anything you’d wish and ask for, even more. He had to work a lot to get you all that. You concluded that you simply needed to be more grateful and understanding.

Maybe he needed space. Maybe you were too clingy. You inhaled, trying to get all of the possibilities of why Azriel was acting this way around you out of your mind, and you exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled. You repeated the action a few times, and once you were sure that your voice was steady enough to talk to him, you did. “I'm going out to see Elain today,” You said, your eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror, secretly analyzing how his body reacted to the second Archeron sister's name.

Azriel barely reacted, only the slight twitch of his fingers around his pen proved your point. Something about Elain was upsetting him, but what? “Have fun,” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. Azriel tried so damn hard to not think of how Elain’s scent would linger on your clothes for hours, maybe even days when you'll come back from your stupid little play date with her. Tried to ignore the insufferable truth that Elain, even when she belonged to another male, even when himself belonged to another female, to you, still haunted his memories every day, noon, and night.

“I will.” It took every ounce of your self-control to not snap at him. It was getting so hard to ignore that pull, that painful throb in your chest that kept screaming at you more, more, more! But deep down, you knew that Azriel would probably never be able to give you more.

To give you his heart, completely.

—

“How is Azriel?”

Elain's melodic voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your fingers still plucked at some invasive weeds competing with Elain's stunning flowers for the nutrients, sunlight, and water. But you didn't dare lift your eyes to meet hers, knowing she'd see the lies dancing in your eyes. “Good. Busy, but good,” Which was true, in some ways.

He kept telling you he was fine, and it was true that he was busier than usual, but deep down, you knew he wasn't doing “good”. Elain nodded, the chestnut curls that escaped her bun bouncing on her forehead as she did so. She knew better than to press the topic with you.

“You're… pale,” Her stunning doe eyes burned with concern, and you felt so bad for lying to your friend, even if it was only partially a lie. “I'm fine.”

Suddenly, the air shifted, and a cool breeze ran at the back of your neck, leaving a veil of goosebump on your delicate skin. The sound of Elain's gardening tools clashing to the ground made you jolt. You rapidly lifted your gaze, and gasped when you took I'm the sight of her once brown eyes now turned completely white, the wind flowing through her hair. It was as if she commanded the air itself.

“Leave him,”

Her voice didn't sound like her own, it sounded like nails on a blackboard, scrapping your soul. You hissed, covering your ears, your eyes wide with fear. But you could still hear her voice, and her face was so close. Your body was frozen in place, as if you were hypnotized by those cold white orbs, and your mind screamed at you to back off, to call for help. To call for Lucien, Elain’s mate.

“The shadow male is bound to be blinded.”

The shaddow male could only be Azriel. Was he okay? What was happening? You hated riddles. “Blinded by what?!” You pressed, begging for answers and yet begging for the kind Archeron to come back to her usual self.

“The seer… The shadow male is bound to be blinded by the seer.”

“Elain!” You hadn't heard the grass sweeping against Lucien's fancy leather boots. Nor his hurried footsteps, and breathing, as he not so delicately moved Elain away from you. You landed on your butt, but you didn't take Lucien's actions personally. After all, he was only reacting instinctively as a newly mated male. You swiped a hand on your face, your brain reeling from the information.

Rage, jealousy, despair.

“Y/N…” You faintly heard Elain's voice, her real voice, call out for you. You didn't even realize the tears that rolled down your cheeks until you felt her soiled hands brush against your damp skin. “I need to go,” You didn't wait to be granted your leave before you hastened back inside the River House.

You almost tripped on the marbled floors, your shoe soles were now slippery because of the dew that had coated your heels. You shoved them out of your feets, the coldness of the floors not bothering you for one bit as you kept running, and running through the halls.

Rhysand’s office doors slammed open, making the Shadowsinger, and the High Lord startle slightly. You felt your heart being ripped open when you saw his eyes, on you, filled with worry.

It has been years since he last looked at you, truly looked at you.

“What is this about?” Azriel rose from his chair, his steps towards you careful, his shadows swirling around you frantically. “Elain,” He froze in place, and his pupils shook. “Is she alright?” Her. It had always been her. Her safety, her well being, simply her. It would always be her before you.

The shadow man is bound to be blinded by the seer, not you.

“She is,” You gulped, swiping away your own tears, the tears he yet hadn't noticed. He reached his hand to touch you, but you smacked his hand away, he frowned. “I am not, Azriel. I am not alright. This is not alright,” You gesture between him and you. “I'm done.”

He fell to his knees, his hand curled at his chest as he looked up desperately at you. “What have you done…” His voice shook, his face red with anger, shame even. “What have you done!” He screamed, desperately trying to hold onto the hem of your dress, trying to keep you here, with him. He was angry, furious, at himself, at you, at Elain, at the cauldron that kept torturing his fate over and over again.

The bond snapped into place only for him to tug on the crumbling thread, watching as you reject the one thing Azriel longed for most in this life. A mate.

He fell to his knees, his hand curled at his chest as he looked up desperately at you. “What have you done…” His voice shook, his face red with anger, shame even. “What have you done!” He screamed, desperately trying to hold onto the hem of your dress, trying to keep you here, with him. He was angry, furious, at himself, at you, at Elain, at the cauldron that kept torturing his fate over and over again.

Rhys ran to Azriel's side, holding him back. You stumbled back, ripping the hem of your dress out of Azriel grip. He sobbed, and screamed as his soul was being ripped in half. Yours was too, but the damage had mostly been done throughout those years of being ignored, unloved and denied. Your soul and heart have been broken for a while now. You winnowed away, far away, and never came back.

Good riddance.

Taglist: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sidthedollface2 @favsrachz

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀

one / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you adjust to your new life as the Commander's healer, you're forced to watch her fall in love with someone else.

warning/s: mentions of injuries, violence, graphic deaths, the usual stuff that comes with writing for the 100.

author's note: second and final part is here! sorry it’s a little delayed, it’s been a busy one lately! pray i get out of my writing funk bc i miss it so much 😭 anyway, i hope you enjoy this one, i didn’t know how to end it, warning you now lol. Also any mentions of Costia are completely made up based off what i could remember, plus i tried to keep her appearance as vague as possible as she’s technically not got a face claim lol. Enjoy!!

Lexa fell into the role of Commander as if it were her birthright, which I suppose in a way it was.

Nothing fazed her, not the meeting on meeting that filled her days, or the responsibilities now weighing on her shoulders, or even the expectations everyone in the city had for her to be as great a Commander as the last one. She took it all in her stride, performing her duties the best she could. I couldn't have been prouder.

Working with her only made things better for us, since I wasn't sure I'd have seen her as much if I didn't. She was always busy, but she always made time for me. Though she had Titus to go to for guidance, she would still confide in me, a habit I was sure would be difficult to break. I, of course, offered all the help I could. Leading was important to her and she was important to me. What more was there?

It didn't make a difference to me, but clearly Titus thought more of it than I realised. It was a few months into Lexa's new role when he thought to bring it up to me. I was bringing a tray of mine and Lexa's dinner to her quarters one evening, the two of us having planned to eat together, when I saw Titus approaching me in the hall.

"Y/N," he acknowledged with a curt nod and narrowed eyes. "May I speak with you?"

"Right now?" I asked, lifting a brow and glancing at the tray in my hand.

"It won't be long," he assured me, barely giving me chance to reply before he continued, "It's about you and Lexa."

"What about us?"

He seemed mildly irritated as he spoke, "I know that you're a big part of her life, but in the past, you've happened to keep your distance. Now that she's Heda, I expect it to stay that way. No distractions."

I furrowed my brows with confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't follow..."

He tensed his jaw, lowering his voice. "I'm not blind, Y/N. I see the way you care for her."

"Yeah, she's my best friend," I remind him, though a small part of me was nervous at what he was implying.

He wasn't stupid, instead rolling his eyes at my response. "Be sure to keep it that way."

I swallowed hard. "That all?"

"That's all," he said with a hint of annoyance, before walking past me.

My fingers gripped the tray with frustration as I kept walking to Lexa's room. How could he know of my feelings for her? I kept them well hidden for many reasons. And even so, what did he expect from Lexa? To never fall in love? Be married to her work? That was preposterous.

Admittedly, his words had more of an effect on me than I thought, rattling around my brain as I joined Lexa in her quarters.

"...are you alright?" she asked me after accepting her dinner. "You seem distracted."

I blinked, meeting her eyes. It would have been easy to tell her that Titus was being confrontational and rude for no reason. One word and she'd boot him out, no questions asked. But as much as I hated him, he was somewhat good for her, having guided the previous Commander too. Lexa couldn't do this alone, she needed someone with experience. Experience I didn't have. Stirring discontent between them would be for nothing other than a personal vendetta, and a worthless one at that.

No, I couldn't do that.

"Sorry, it's just been a long day," I lied, offering her a small smile. "Bit tired."

"Well, eat your dinner and you can go off to sleep," she said with a soft smile, patting my shoulder.

I nodded, putting her at ease enough for her to dig into her own dinner.

Truthfully, Titus had nothing to worry about. I was too cowardly to make a move anyway.

—

17 years old...

I should have known it would happen eventually. What was I to expect? That she'd stay single forever?

It didn't make it easier to deal with though, especially because the girl in question was absolutely lovely and I couldn't hate her for any reason other than she was with the girl I loved.

Lexa and I were returning to the Tower from a meeting she had at someone's house in the centre of the city when they met. It was a little busier than usual today because of some sales on produce nearby, so we were manoeuvring our way through the crowd. As we did, Lexa accidentally walked right into an oncoming girl, a bit too harshly than intended, and immediately went to apologise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I–" she started, steadying the stranger, but she stopped short when she looked up.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," the girl apologised, smiling softly, and then her eyes met Lexa's, animated and beautiful and captivating Lexa in an instant. "I should've watched where I was going."

I glanced at Lexa, who was entranced, expression softening and mouth slightly open.

"Who are you?" she asked without thinking. "I haven't see you here before."

"My name is Costia," the girl introduced herself, as captivated by Lexa as she was with her. "I'm from Floukru, but I moved here for a change."

Lexa smiled, putting out her forearm respectfully. "It's nice to meet you, Costia. I'm Lexa."

Costia returned her forearm shake, but then realisation crossed her expression. "Wait, Lexa as in Heda Lexa?"

She was about to kneel, but Lexa stopped her with a chuckle, certainly surprising me. She was already infatuated, it was obvious, and I felt uneasy.

"It's okay, there's no need for that," Lexa assured her with sparkling eyes.

Everything about the way she looked at her to the way she couldn't seem to remember I was even here irked me. She liked her, clearly, and I couldn't blame her. Costia was everything I wasn't. She had the complete opposite features to me, a delicate nature about her, and she wasn't afraid to make her attraction to Lexa obvious.

I gave them space, not that they noticed, and my suspicions were confirmed later that evening when Lexa gushed about her crush on this mystery girl, having asked her out when I left.

The jealousy was poisoning me, but I couldn't blame anyone except myself.

It didn't take long for them to officially get together, to my dismay. And because of this, it meant I spent less time with Lexa because she was spending most of her free time with Costia. Titus didn't take this new development any better than I, looking just as bitter as I felt, though for different reasons.

He made it known to me when we were both in the throne room one time, waiting on the side as Lexa had called us in for our counsel on something, but was first finishing her conversation with Costia. I avoided looking their way, resisting the urge to roll my eyes from nothing other than an innate and unfair jealousy. Titus, however, was glaring holes in their direction.

"I don't like this," he mumbled to me.

I sighed. "I bet."

At this, he tore his gaze from them to glare at me. "You weren't this bad."

"Gee, thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "Costia is going to be a massive distraction."

I glanced at him disapprovingly. "She won't. Lexa is happy. Leave her be."

As if annoyed that I didn't disapprove as he did, he scoffed quietly and crossed his arms, continuing to glare at them.

Unlike him, I couldn't hate on their relationship, not even because I was jealous. Costia was lovely, carefree, kind and she made Lexa happier than ever. Plus, she was nothing short of nice to me every time she saw me. How could I hate that?

—

I thought I was finally getting used to them together, but there were still times when I felt like I'd been replaced, as horribly selfish as it sounded.

With the intention of grabbing Lexa for a meeting, I let myself into her room as I always did, but realised she was sat on the bed and Costia was stood over her.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," I said awkwardly, unsure what I was even interrupting.

As I backed up to leave, Costia stepped to the side to reveal Lexa with war paint swiped across her eyes.

"Doesn't she look daring?" Costia said with a proud smile, paint in her hand.

Despite the bittersweet feeling of it all, I couldn't help but smile at Lexa. "Of course."

Lexa returned my smile and stood up, before saying to Costia, "It was actually Y/N who first put this on for me. When we were kids. And then it just... stuck."

The memory was as fresh as ever, leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth. Oh, how things had changed since then.

"You had the right idea," Costia told me sweetly, before looking to Lexa with adoration. "It looks great."

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. As they gazed at each other, I felt like a third wheel and decided to leave.

"What did you need, Y/N?" Lexa called before I could.

"Just grabbing you for the meeting, but I'll meet you in the throne room," I said nonchalantly.

She smiled, nodding. "Okay. See you in a minute."

Deflated, I left. Just another thing to get used to.

—

19 years old...

The scream was ear-piercing, strained with utter horror and ricocheting off the Tower walls. I woke with a fright, jumping out my skin. I didn't even need to be told – I knew who it was immediately and my heart squeezed into nothingness as I left my bed and hurried down the hall where Lexa's quarters were.

The guards that watched the halls were too slow for my liking, trailing behind me like lost lambs. I took the lead, concerned and confused and uneasy as I pushed her doors open. I feared what I'd find.

Lexa was who I saw first, on the floor in her nightgown as if she'd just gotten out of bed, leaning back on her hands and trembling so much I thought she'd shatter.

"Lexa!" I rushed to her side, kneeling down with worry. "What is it? What's wrong?"

In all my life, I'd never seen her afraid, not like this, and certainly not enough to elicit a scream like she had. What could it be?

I followed her tear-filled gaze, noticing a box at the foot of her bed. Reluctantly, I let go of her and approached the box, and it was a sight I'd never forget.

There sat Costia'a head, lifeless eyes forced open and fresh blood still staining her beheaded neck.

My hand came to my mouth immediately and I looked away, afraid I'd throw up if I didn't. I caught the glaring symbol on the inside of the box though – the symbol of Azgeda, Lexa's biggest enemy – and knew who was responsible.

The guards were just as taken aback as I was, freezing by the door when they noticed the head. Lexa's sobs pulled me from my momentary shock and I immediately looked to the guards with as much confidence as I could muster. They couldn't see their Commander falter like this, not if I could help it.

"What are you waiting for?!" I shouted at them. "Remove this now!" As they jumped at my words, and eventually into action, I continued, "And find out who broke in here last night! Up the security!"

They nodded frantically, carefully taking the box out of there and leaving Lexa and I alone. I returned to her side, where she was still staring at the spot where the box was, glassy eyes widened with horror.

"Lexa, I'm sorry," I said, pulling her in for a hug, hating the way she trembled. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs were silenced in my shirt and she clutched me so tightly I was sure I'd have bruises, but I didn't care. I was still in utter shock, unable to believe Costia was dead at the hands of Azgeda. I knew we'd had tension with them for a while now, all because their queen didn't trust Lexa in power, but I never thought they'd stoop this low.

Costia deserved better... so did Lexa.

—

She wasn't the same after that. I couldn't blame her. Finding someone you loved, beheaded, at the foot of your bed? When you'd only just kissed them goodnight the night before? It was traumatising. Hell, it still haunted me!

We held a funeral, but Lexa didn't shed another tear after the morning she found her. She was much quieter, much more closed off, as if numb to the whole situation. Even when I visited her after the funeral, concerned for her well-being, she told me to leave. I didn't want to, but maybe space was what she needed, so I obeyed.

There were no leads on how the box was delivered, nor who delivered it. The guards were still searching, making enquiries, but it seemed futile. Horrifyingly enough, Costia's body was never found, so we could only burn the head. It was disgusting, the emotional warfare Azgeda were playing on Lexa.

Costia had nothing to do with any of this, she'd only been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it was something Lexa never forgave herself for.

The girl I'd come to know as easygoing and full of life was gone, completely replaced by this shell of a person. At first, she was isolating herself from everyone, only throwing herself into her duties and responsibilities as Heda. It took a long several months for her to fully grieve Costia, for her to finally open up to me again, but she wasn't the same.

I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen her smile or laugh. It was as if her happiness had died with Costia and I understood why, but I hated seeing her like that.

We were in archery practice one day, the two of us sometimes training together like old times. I was growing tired, looking forward to when it would end so we could do something a little more fun.

"Do you wanna go for a swim after this?" I asked her, the idea coming to me at that moment. "In the lake, like we used to?"

She didn't spare a glance my way as she lined up her next shot. "I have more important matters to attend to, Y/N."

"C'mon, it'll be fun," I said encouragingly as she let the arrow fly through the air, finding the centre of the target with ease. "It's warm out and the lake will be refreshing."

"No," she said simply, going to collect her arrow.

I sighed quietly, watching her with a concerned gaze. Gently, I spoke, "Look, I know it's been hard, but I'm here for you and I think that, maybe, not working as hard might make this–"

"What?" she interrupted harshly, finally looking at me, though with a fiery glare. I jumped at volume of her voice, not expecting it. "Easier? How? How can it be easier when Azgeda are plotting to overthrow me every single day? How will a dip in the lake fix that?!"

I swallowed awkwardly, unsure what to say. It felt stupid now.

"We're not kids anymore," she reminded me with a sneer.

I frowned. "I know. Sorry. I don't mean–"

"You're forgiven," she cut me off, looking away with a clenched jaw. "End of discussion."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as she returned to her stance before the target, lining up another shot. And just like that, we were back to archery.

—

21 years old...

It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission. In and out of Azgeda's prison camps, rescuing our people and leaving before they'd even notice.

But everything went wrong when they caught us escaping.

Arrows were flying, swords were wielded and, in the midst of chaos, I saw that a few of our own were struck down. We needed to leave, fast.

Those of us who could mounted their horses, prisoners with them, and raced out of there whilst a few stayed back to buy us time. Lexa was one of them, mounting her horse and taking a few of Azgeda's soldiers out on the way. I was close behind, the last of our party to leave, and pushed my horse as fast as I could. Unfortunately for me, before I could even make it out of the snowy lands of Azgeda's territory, a loose arrow caught my horse's front leg and I went flying forward as a result.

The wind was knocked from me as I landed face first in the snow, the cold already seeping through my clothes and my whole body aching from the fall. But I couldn't stay put for long, already hearing someone on my tail.

It took me a lot of effort to push myself off the ground, finding my sword which had luckily not impaled me on the fall. As soon as I turned around, I saw one of the Azgeda prison guards hurtling towards me, his own sword raised as he let out a battle cry. I held my ground, grip tightening on my sword, and immediately blocked his swing as he came at me.

Luckily for me, my sword fighting had much improved over the years, mostly due to Lexa's constant need for training, and it aided me in this fight as I blocked every swing from my opponent. He was large and strong, albeit slow, so at my best opportunity, I parried his swing and used the power of it to go around him, stabbing him through the back.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I yanked my sword out, watching him collapse in the snow. My success was short lived however, as I heard barking from behind me and turned around a second too late. A wild dog – one of the ones the Azgeda army trained for battle – raced through the trees and leapt on me, going straight for my leg.

I screamed as its sharp teeth sunk right into my calf, at the orders of its owner who was approaching us but only watching as I struggled. Instinctively, I swung my sword, but the dog was merely inconvenienced, moving back to bark at me before leaping at me again. This time, I was knocked backwards into the snow, dropping my sword. It reattached its teeth to my leg, piercing flesh and bone and oblivious to my weak attempts at kicking it away. I felt like I couldn't breathe, the pain too strong to even acknowledge.

Suddenly, an arrow flew through the air, landing right in the dog's head and killing it instantly. It didn't matter to me though – my leg felt like it was in tatters and I was starting to see spots in my vision. Not even the cold of the snow was a bother to me anymore – I could have been dipped in fire at that moment and known no difference.

"Y/N!" someone shouted after me.

My people had returned, dismounting their horses as they fought off the Azgeda stragglers, including that wretched dog's owner.

Lexa was with them, having come back to my aid. She let her people deal with the remaining Azgeda soldiers, instead coming to my side with a concerned look. Her eyes glanced between me and my leg and, judging from her expression, it wasn't great.

"I need help over here!" she yelled to her solders.

Two members of our party rushed to my side, attempting to carry me, but even the slightest bit of movement had me screeching in agony.

"Be gentle!" Lexa ordered, and they were suddenly less rough. She took my hand, squeezing it gently. "You're gonna be okay. We're going home."

All I could manage was a weak nod, tears burning my eyes.

We must have made it back to Polis, though I couldn't be sure it was without disruption as I passed out not long after they placed me on a horse.

When I awoke, I recognised the healer's room at the Tower, though it felt strange being the one in the bed rather than the healer. I couldn't remember why I was here, still in a daze, and then I heard a sigh of relief and looked to my right to see Lexa standing up, touching my cheek with relief.

It was unusual seeing the tears down her cheeks and her red, puffy eyes staring down at me. She hadn't cried this much since Costia died years ago. Was I hurt that bad?

"What happened?" I asked tiredly, not quite adjusting to the aches and pains in my body.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," she said with a watery voice. "I should've got to you sooner."

Got to me sooner...?

And then it came back to me. Our people. Azgeda. The dog. My leg.

My eyes widened as I put Lexa's words together with what I remembered and then I was quick to try and sit up to see if my leg was okay, but Lexa tried to stop me.

"Y/N, just wait–"

"Let go!" I shouted, shoving her off long enough to finally see what I feared.

My lower left leg was gone. All that remained was a bloody, bandaged stump, ending at my knee. I could barely believe what I was looking at, eyes watering at the sight.

"It was the only way," she said regretfully. "It was badly infected and the bites were too deep. They couldn't save it."

Her words went in one ear and out the other. All I could see was the spot where my leg used to be.

"It's gone," I whispered, voice trembling.

Her hand rested on my shoulder gently. "Y/N..."

I touched my knee and then the spot after it, where my calf should've been. And then I felt something break inside of me and the tears finally fell.

Lexa sat beside me, pulling me into her chest and holding me tightly. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm here."

But it wasn't okay, was it? Nothing was okay.

—

The next few days were some of the hardest I'd endured.

Lexa stayed by my side the whole time, only leaving to bring me food or see the healers looking after me. I couldn't bear to look at her, nor my father, who stopped by regularly too.

Everything was so futile to me. Without my leg, I would never walk the same again. And how would I continue to be a combat medic if I couldn't even stand? How could I work at Lexa's side? I was useless. And I couldn't stand it.

My feelings left me in a pit of depression, my appetite gone and my will to recover completely absent. I couldn't see a future where I'd feel like myself again, and no matter who was there to support me, I refused their help.

I was sulking yet again, staring at the wall and soaking in my own misery since there was nothing else to do. Lexa had left to get me some food and, truthfully, I was glad. Her constant worrying and fretting at my side was doing nothing to help.

The logical part of me was grateful she cared, but the emotional part won over and I seriously hated having her around right now, not when I couldn't think straight about anything other than my missing leg.

My momentary peace was interrupted when Lexa returned, tray of food in hand which she set on the table beside my bed.

"It's time to eat something, Y/N," she said softly, hand resting on my hand, but I snatched it away.

Ignoring her, I continued to stare at the wall ahead, void of feeling.

"Y/N, please, you have to eat," she said, unfazed by my mood.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I purposely looked to the left, away from her, hoping she'd get the hint. Of course, she didn't.

"Don't be like that," she said, a little sterner this time, and it infuriated me because why couldn't I be like that? Who was she to tell me otherwise?

"I can do what I want," I snapped at her with a glare. "I'm not hungry, so just leave me alone already."

Her lips twitched into a slight frown, but she didn't move. "You're not going to get better if you don't eat," she said firmly.

"Get the damn hint and go away! I don't need your help!" I said bitterly.

She swallowed hard, green eyes flickering between mine with an unreadable expression, before leaving the room. I glared a hole into the space where she left, eyes burning with tears, and was overcome by an immediate guilt.

It was easier to push her away now, as much as it hurt to do so. At least this way she wouldn't notice how much of a burden I would become. Cripples had no place working under the Commander, best friend or not. And I wasn't sure I could handle being fazed out by Lexa in time.

Despite how awful the whole situation was, I couldn't bring it in myself to face her. She tried to return after my outburst, but I made sure Nyko refused her entry. I was surprised it worked, considering she was the Commander and could do whatever she wanted. She still found her way back in over the course of the next week, but I continued to ignore her, wanting her to lose interest on her own and stop visiting me.

I should have known trying to get Lexa to do anything was impossible though, as when she showed up once more, ignoring my request through Nyko to leave me alone, she had a whole speech prepared.

"I said I didn't want to see you,"  I mumbled tiredly upon noticing her walk in without warning.

She ignored me and stopped by my bed. "You don't get to request that."

I rolled my eyes, my usual self-deprecating attitude written all over my face. But unlike the past few weeks, she wasn't accepting it anymore.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she suddenly shouted, surprising me.

I finally looked to her, surprised to see her shooting me a fiery glare.

"I almost lost you, don't you see that?" she continued, giving me no chance to respond. "I watched you bleed all over the bed as they assessed the damage. Watched as you came to and from consciousness, as they cut off your leg. They thought you were going to die from the blood loss. And now you're okay and what? You're pushing me away?! For what? Pride?!"

I pressed my lips together, tensing my jaw, face hot with shame and self-pity.

"Well, I refuse," she said decisively. "I'm staying and you can't get rid of me. No matter how many times you try to tell Nyko."

Even as I closed my eyes, I could feel tears welling up. Why was she so stubborn?

Her voice cracked as she continued, "They're moving you back to your room tomorrow."

I looked away, unsure what to say, and then she took my hand between hers and I couldn't bring it in myself to pull away. Admittedly, I craved the comfort, though I didn't deserve it. Not after how I'd treated her.

"I'm not leaving your side," she repeated, less angry and more concerned.

It only reminded me why I was acting like this in the first place.

"For now," I said, voice hoarse.

She blinked. "What?"

Narrowing my eyes, I finally looked to her, speaking more clearly. "For now. You'll be here for now and then you'll get busy with Heda responsibilities, and then you'll realise I can't work with you anymore because I can't even walk. And then you'll get busier and busier and realise I'm just a damned burden and then you'll leave. And I won't blame you one bit, but it'll happen."

Her expression softened. "How can you say that?"

Embarrassed, I let go of her hand and wiped away a stray tear, looking away. "Because it's true. We're not kids anymore, remember? You don't owe me a thing."

"You're such a fool."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. How could she say that when she'd spent the last few years an emotionless wreck because of Costia's death, only ever putting her job first?

"No, you are," she disagreed. "You think I'd just push you away like that?"

"Yes," I said simply, looking down at my bed covers. "Love is weakness. Isn't that what you've been saying?"

"I thought that," she admitted, "but it's not. Not with you."

I rolled my eyes.

"I thought I lost you and I didn't," she said gently, considerately. "That's worth something. Because..." She paused, hesitant, then continued, "...because I'm in love with you."

She said it so nonchalantly that I had to truly digest her words, and even then I couldn't believe them.

With disbelief, I glanced at her. "What?"

She was trembling slightly, surprising me, and began to nod. Her eyes were glassy as they met mine. "I am. I can't lose you too."

For a moment, I saw the old Lexa, the one who I'd known most of my life, before Azgeda ruined her, and it broke my heart.

"Lexa...," I started, but didn't know what to say.

"You're not a burden," she told me with certainty. "Those one love never are."

I struggled to find words, heart beating exceptionally fast as she maintained eye contact. She loved me? After all this time, the girl I fell in love with loved me too? What?

"Please don't say I've ruined everything," she whispered, hopeless.

Remembering to move, I quickly shook my head, though my mind was still reeling. "You haven't. You–"

She cut me off with a kiss, pressing her lips to mine eagerly. She kissed me like she'd been waiting to forever, hands curling around my face and nose brushing against mine as she tilted her head to the side. I kissed her back, melting into her with ease and acutely aware of how perfect she felt against me.

I still couldn't catch up to what was happening, not even as she pulled back slightly, breathless and meeting my gaze. She didn't speak, as if waiting for my reaction before she could do anything.

"Are you sure?" was all I could say, stunned.

She nodded slowly.

I licked my lips. "Good. Because I'm in love with you too, Lexa."

Her lips curved into a small smile, eyes darting between mine, before she kissed me again.

[kpopscruggles]

had to write something, its like 1200 words ngl.

was also foaming at the mouth writing this.

To say that getting ready for this date was stressful as is, but knowing I was going to the fanciest restaurant in the city because he refused to just fuck me really made this more weighted on my shoulders. He was a nice guy, on call his voice was smooth, even the simple kiss he gave through the speaker before he would hang up. Facetime he always had a sweet smile as he sat on his bed or couch, drinking the simple glass of Jack because he refused to let the money steal him from his favorite whiskey. The simple chain he wore around his neck, the silver clashing with the warm tone of his semi tan skin. He was a full course meal is what he was. 

Walking into the restaurant a soothing wave hit me in the aura of the dimly lit room. “You made it, sorry I couldn’t come and grab you...” I turned immediately after hearing the voice. A small smile still on his face as his hand reached to hold mine before giving it a small kiss. Treating my hand as if it was so delicate it would just shatter. “Hope the drive here wasn’t dreadful for you”. 

“Easily not.” I assured myself before smiling “I mean c'mon Jay, I told you with everything you're doing I wouldn’t mind at least driving myself here. He smiled before telling the host his last name, meanwhile I was busy staring at him, the dress shirt slightly showing his collarbone, the dress pants that were hugging him a little around his hips and crotch. He was packing, I knew it. I just knew he could fuck me so good...make me a drooling mess. Make me a slut, his slut.  

The dinner went well, the wine easily hitting me though as I now couldn’t even hold a conversation without giving him the nastiest compliments. I knew the wine had taken him too, his responses spilled it all. “You're a teasing little thing, aren't you?” I didn't respond, I just gave him the soothing smile I had had. “I asked you a question, I don't take action for an answer” he chuckled softly before pouring him another glass. His Adams apple bobbed slightly as he took a sip of the dark red liquid.  

My heel slowly running up his ankle “I don’t think so, usually I’m not at least...just doing it now because I want you...” I added with begging eyes as I watched the smirk grow on his face. My cunt growing wetter, by begging hole tightening around nothing just thinking about him ruining me. I knew when I first seen Jay, I knew I needed him to fuck me like he hated me. The toy in my bedside gave me no pleasure when he clouded my mind. He was just my only thought. 

The drive here that’s all I could think about, no matter how wet I was I just wanted to feel that warm tingling sensation from my cunt as he would make it fit. How I imagined the sweat on his skin pounding into me relentlessly. How his moans would make me shiver, I knew he was a groaner, I could feel it. How he’d praise me while fucking me like a worthless bitch, that was all in my mind. I would get on my knees and cry tonight if I wasn’t gonna feel his cum inside me. 

Snapping back into reality I felt him reach for my ankle “I’m gonna treat you like such a slut tonight, that’s what you want isn’t it?” I felt him move my leg to my foot landing against his bulge. Taking a deep breath, I nodded while nibbling on my bottom lip "You gonna stay my slut forever? If I feel you with me cum your mine...” he whispered. I nodded obediently. Whatever Jay wanted I was going to do it and that was the final. 

----- 

The drive back, the elevator ride, everything took forever till we finally found his front door. I heard the click as it unlocked, his lips attached to mine immediately. Back hitting the arm of a sofa causing me to yelp for just a moment. I watched the male kneel in front of me. His eyes staring down at me causing a shiver to run up my spine.  

His lips down running against my ankle as he takes the heels from my feet. Moans leaving him as he kissed my skin as he was soon reaching my knee. My body grow hot as if I had never been touched before. His fingers reaching up and hooking onto my panties before pulling them down my legs. Running up to my thigh he groaned “You smell amazing, but I'll get a taste of you in the morning, right now take that dress off and turn over. 

Rushing just like that, I did everything he asked before bending myself over the arm of the sofa. I yelled a little feeling him push me a bit forward, my hips risen from the sofa arm. My ass right in his view. “Such a sexy girl~” my teeth sunk into my bottom lip immodestly as I felt the sting once he slapped my ass. My eyes rolling back as I was waiting patiently for his cock. 

A sinful moan leaving me once I felt it, the feeling my cunt had been waiting for. The feeling of his cock stretching my cunt as he slowly seeped into me. “Fuck!” I hissed once feeling him pull out just to slam back into me. I heard a breath leave him as he started slowly rocking his hips. His tip hitting right at my cervix that was already begging to take his cum. 

My body becoming a mess, the sounds of my gummy walls as he pushed in and out of me, the reflection from the window decent enough for me to see the ring of my creamy substance around his cock. “So, fucking wet Angel~” he groaned before picking up his pace. Now so close to ruining me as I felt my lower half growing numb besides him ruining my insides.  

My body jolted with each thrust he made. Loud cries that echoed the whole apartment once he reached just enough to grip my hair. Sucking in breathes, chest starting to heave, his hands now making marks once they left my hair and scratched down my back. “Fuck I'm gonna cum! And you're gonna take it aren't you? You're gonna be my little cum dump?” He chuckled. Meanwhile I just nodded, I couldn't say anything. 

Feeling myself come undone I couldn't hold it any longer. My eyes droopy, saliva dripping from the side of my mouth as I took the last few thrusts before feeling his warm cum fill me. A smile on my face with each spurt of cum that left his cock. “Fuck fuck fuck~” he groaned, gripping my ass to steady himself from the trembling release. He came isnide me, I was his.  

[hunnitastic]

Can you write Wally tending to a GN reader SH scars after noticing them, if u don't want that's chill but oml I love how you write him 👌

Sure can do!

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

|| Wally Darling x GN!Reader ||

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

⚠️CW // this story contains self-harm, talk about depression, talk about feeling worthless. Please read at your own caution⚠️

Art done by: @/partycoffin

◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽

You haven't been the same these past few weeks. You stopped hanging around your friends. Stopped accepting their invites to go out a play.

Julie asked if you wanted to come over and play business woman and play the role of her assistant like you always did....You declined.

Frank asked if you wanted to go and look at some butterflies with him at the park because they were your favorite bugs. You told him another time.

Eddie asked if you wanted to help him deliver some mail because you always enjoyed walking around in your little mailman uniform. You said you were too busy.

Wally...Wally darling had invited you to come over to his house so you could do your casual afternoon finger painting. You had always loved painting with wally. And sharing your silly little artworks after they dried. You enjoyed it so very much. Sitting on the ground, painting in silence and exchanging glances.

It was nice.

"Oh...I'm really sorry wally but- I think I might just stay home today. Maybe we can paint next week. I'll...talk to you later. Goodbye." You hung up the phone before wally could even respond. It was at that moment he knew something was wrong. You sounded very weak and tired. Almost as if you'd been crying before he called you. He took notice that you barely even stepped out of your house anymore. And if you did it was only for a little bit so you could get some fresh air. And you always wore a long sleeved sweater while outside. Which strange to the curious fellow. It was warm out so what was the need to wear a sweater?

Wally put down his phone and walked over to the window staring outside. Straight to your house. He caught you at the right moment. There you were. Wearing that same sweater as you stepped out the door and let out a small stretch and yawn. That was when wally caught a glimpse of your exposed wrist. It looked like some repeatedly scratched at your skin till it was red and bleeding. Something was most definitely wrong.

"Hmm...I think (y/n) is hiding something...don't you think home?" Wally asked, his chin resting at the palm of his hand as he continued to stare at you getting some fresh air before quickly walking back inside your house again. Home creaked in response. "It seems she doesn't us to know about something...I'll go over and ask." Wally mumbled to himself as he stepped outside and headed over.

Just as he was making his way to your house Julie spotted her neighbor and skipped over towards him. "Hey wally! Are you heading over to (y/n)'s house?" She asked in a curious tone. "Yes I am Julie. I would like to ask why (y/n) hasn't come out to play with us these past few days." Julie reached down and grabbed the others hands. "Will you please let (y/n) know that we all miss playing with them? I've been playing business women with frank but he just makes it boring!" Julie cried. "Hey! I heard that julie!" Frank shouted as he stomped over to the 2 other neighbors. "If you didn't start destroying things everytime we set up our office maybe I'd be more into it." Frank scolded before letting out a sigh. "Wally I assume you're heading to (y/n)'s house?" Frank asked. Wally hummed and nodded. "Kindly let us know if there's anything we can do for them. I've been getting awfully worried lately." Wally nodded again, growing eager to get to your house already. "I'll let them know you're all wo-"

"HEY GUYS! ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT (Y/N)?"

Eddie called out a couple feet away as he waved his arms in the air. "Eddie! Keep it down! We don't want (y/n) to know!" Frank huffed placing his hands on his hips. Eddie let out a small chuckle. "Whoops, sorry bout that. Oh! Wally you're heading over to (y/n)'s house now right?" Eddie asked. "Yes I am." Wally simply responded. Eddie stuffed his hand into his bag and pulled out a stack of mail handing it over to the smaller puppet. "Could ya give these to (y/n)? Last time I tried handing them their mail they didn't answer the door so I just kept them for safety." Wally nodded and grabbed the mail. It was quite a thick stack too.

"OH- and also could you-" "OK THAT'S ENOUGH! We're keeping wally here far too long now he's probably waiting for us to stop yapping! Go on and go over to (y/n)'s house already Wally and, let us know how it goes." Frank quickly spoke before h dragged Julie and Eddie by their hands before they could open their mouths once more. 

Wally softly chuckled to himself before have continued to make his way towards your house. He softly knocked on the door 3 times and waited for you to answer. "Hello? (Y/n) it's me wally. Are you home?" He asked in his soft voice. Just before he thought you wouldn't answer the sound of the door know jiggle caught his attention. You slowly opened the door looking up at the dopey eyed puppet. "Oh, uh...hi wally. Is there...something you needed?" You asked only peeking your head out. "Eddie wanted me to give you these." Wally handed you the mail. Your eyes slightly widened at the amount there was. You kept yourself from pouting. "Oh geez. Thank you for giving these to me wally." You spoke in that unusual weak tone. "You're very welcome neighbor."

The 2 of you stood in silence before wally spoke up again. "May I come inside?" He asked in his usual soft polite voice. You didn't want any company at the moment but you couldn't say no to his face after telling you didn't want to hang out over the phone. You nodded and opened the door some more allowing your friend to walk inside.

Wally hummed as a thank you as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the entirety of the house. There was tons of crumbled paper laying on the floor. All the lights where off too. That was something you'd usually never do. "Boy...it's pretty dark in here. I can hardly see you." Wally mentioned staring at your dim colored figure. Before you could respond wally reached over and flipped the light switch on. Your pupils dialed at the sudden brightness as you rushed to cover your eyes, blocking out the light. "There thats much better. Now I can see you more." Wally hummed turning to stare at you. 

"Uh...yeah...was there anything you needed?" You asked not moving your hands away from your face. Wally nodded and stepped forward. "Yes there is. I came over here to ask you a question." You slowly removed your hands from your face, looking up at your neighbor with tired eyes. "What's the question?" You asked nervously.

Wally stepped more closer, staring deep into your eyes. "Well you see. The others and I have been very worried about you (y/n)-" he started. "We haven't been able to play with you like we used to. So I wanted to ask if you're doing okay." Waves a guilt flooded your mind. You didn't mean to cause your friends to worry about you so much. "Is there something wrong?" Wally asked waiting for you to respond.  You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. "Y-yeah! Everything is fine! I've just been really really tired!" You spoke in your best enthusiastic voice you could. Wally stared...he didn't seem to believe you.

"Are you sure?" He asked. You nodded your head. "Absolutely positively sure!" You sung faking a smile.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"You're lying."

Your entire body tensed up. Your breath caught in your chest. Your mouth hanging open. You couldn't find the right words to speak. Your hands lay limp at your sides.

"Wh-what do you m-"

"I can tell when somethings wrong (y/n). It's as plain as those cuts on your wrists." Wally spoke, his eyes traveling down to your clothed arms. You let out a shaky breath watching as he reached out and softly grabbed hold of your arm, slowly pulling the sleeve up. You couldn't read the look on his face. His usual smile didn't leave his lips.

You just watched as he stared at your skin. Scars old and new covered up and down your arms. Thin and and think. Deep and light. Different shades of red painted across your pale colored skin. Your arm thin and frail. You winced as wally lightly grazed his fingers over your cuts. "What are these?" He asked. You refused to respond. "Is this what you've been doing these past few days while staying locked up in your house?" He asked another question. Again, you refused to answer. "Hmm...this isn't good at all. Not. At. All." You panicked feeling his grip on your arm behind to tighten for a moment.

Wally let out a sigh and loosened his grip. He looked back at you. Same expression painted on his face. "Will you let me help clean you up?" He asked with a hint of worry in his tone. You stayed silent but nodded your head. Wally let go of your arm and held your hand, intertwining your fingers as he walked you over to your bedroom. "I'm assuming gou have a first aid kit somewhere right?" He asked sitting you down on your bed. "Yes. In my nightstand in the 3rd drawer." You pointed beside the bed.

After grabbing the kit and taking out the materials wally looked up at your face as he kneeled down infront of you. "...what?" You asked. "May you take off your sweater so it can be easier to clean up your arms?" He politely asked pulling at the hem of your sweater. You let out a slightly annoyed whine but did as he asked. "Very good. Thank you (y/n)." He hummed. 

You stayed silent watching as wally grabbed a cottonball and lightly dosed it in cleaning solution. "Would you mind telling me...what made you do this to yourself?" He asked as he lightly pressed the damp ball against the first cut watching your flinch from the stinging sensation. You stayed quiet for a minute before you decided to talk.

"I'm...I'm an awful friend" you whispered in a shakey voice. Wally stay silent letting you continue while he concentrated on cleaning up your cuts. "I ruin everything. I can't do anything right to help my friends." You sobbed. " 2 weeks ago I was playing office with julie and I ended up knocking over desk and breaking her favorite lamp that was on top of it. And when I was with frank watching some butterflies, he found one he had never seen before and was so excited about it. But I accidently scared it away. And when I helped Eddie with the mail I stupidly mixed up everyone's mail together. Eddie had to work extra hard that day because of me!" You let the tears spill from your eyes like waterfalls while you choked on your words. "And when we painted together I spilt an entire bucket of paint all over your picture ruining it! I'm so stupid! I keep messing everything up- I can't do anything right for my friends!"

Wally continued to stay silent while focusing on your arms. After he finished cleaning up all the dry and fresh blood he started placing band-aids on every single cut. "I didn't mean to make everyone worry about me. I just thought that after that you guys wouldn't wanna see me anymore. Why would YOU even want to hang out with me. I just make things worse. Staying home was the only thing I could do." You spoke between sobs. Tasting your salty tears that slid down your read flushed cheeks.

After wally was done blanketing your arms in band-aids he held your hands in his. His thumbs softly circling the top of your hands for comfort. "Do you know why we like to play with you (y/n)?" He asked staring into your eyes, watching you shake your head. "It's because we like to play with you. No one is mad at you for your small mistakes hun. Nobody's perfect after all."

"But...you are" you mumbled.

Wally tilted his head to the side. His eyes not leaving yours. "Why can't I be more like you? Calm, good at drawing...I'm nothing like you." You softly complained. "And that's a good thing" wally sung as he continued to massage your hands with his thumbs. "It wouldn't be twice as fun if you were like me. I like you as you (y/n). And so does everyone else." He spoke softly grabbing your hands and lifting them up having you lightly cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands. "You're such a funny person. Julie, frank, eddie and the other enjoy playing with you. I like playing with you too... you're so much fun to be around~." wally hummed pressing soft kisses against your wrist. Your heart started to race.

"You're really fun to be around. And it makes me so sad knowing you felt that way. I'm your best friend after all. I should have known you were so upset" wally softly spoke, nuzzling his face against your hand. "I'm really sorry you've been so upset (y/n). Could you ever forgive me?" He asked. His voice almost cracking. You stared at wally as tears continued to well up in the corners of your eyes. "Oh wally...please don't apologize. It's not your fault at all. I'm sorry I never said anything sooner. I was just...too scared to say anything." You mumbled, stroking the pad of your thumb against his cheek.

Wally closed his eyes, going limp in your touch. "Will you promise me the next time you're feeling sad you'll come talk to me about it?" You softly smiled and nodded your head. "I cross my heart and promise I will." You leaned over wrapping your arms around his neck bringing him in for a hug. Wally buried his face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you for being such a good friend Wally."

"Anything for you (y/n) after all... What are friends for?"

THE END.

♡~||AH I've never written a story like this so I hope I did a good job! Thank you very much for the ask. If you'd like to request a story feel free to send me on in my answer box||~♡

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Absolute Submission to the Queen

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Silvio used to be a tyrant.

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

Silvio: "Entertain me. Your duty is to serve me and make me happy."

Emma: "I don't like this kind of entertainment."

Silvio: "How many times do I have to tell you not to talk back to a guest?"

Silvio: "Stop making that unattractive face and pour the damn wine already!"

(Why is he like this?)

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

Silvio: "Listen, you absolutely cannot move for the next few days."

Silvio: "Instead, I'll do everything. I'll especially be your servant."

(Why did he become so overprotective?!)

Silvio was kneeling in front of me as I sat on the bed.

It was a scene that would definitely lead to misunderstandings if anyone else saw it.

However, he seemed completely unconcerned.

(He wasn't the type to kneel so easily.)

Emma: "I'm telling you, it's okay."

Silvio: "Ha? Can you really say that with your leg in this condition?"

He lifted one of my legs with a touch as gentle as handling delicate glasswork.

My leg, peeking out from the hem of the nightgown, was meticulously wrapped in white bandages.

Emma: "I just twisted my foot a little. It's not so serious that I can't walk."

(I just tripped and fell while wearing an unfamiliar dress.)

(I didn't want to worry him, so I kept it a secret. I shouldn't have underestimated his information network.)

Silvio: "You were walking quite recklessly considering that."

Emma: "It doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

Silvio: "That's why I told you not to move."

Emma: "But the doctor said it shouldn't be a problem to walk."

As I spoke, he lowered his gaze and brought his lips to my toes.

(WHAT!?)

I tried to pull my foot away from the vivid sensation, but he held me back with an exquisite amount of force.

Emma: "W-W-What the hell!?"

Silvio: "This is the quickest way to silence a cheeky woman who doesn't listen."

Emma: "I'm not being cheeky today!"

Silvio: "Defying my wishes is enough to be considered cheeky."

The overprotective tyrant showed no intention of stopping his kisses.

(I don't want this, it's embarrassing!)

The moment his tongue traced my toes, I reached my limit.

Emma: "Fine! I won't move, I promise!"

Silvio: "You should've said that from the start."

(I feel like I've been tricked.)

Silvio smiled smugly and let go of my foot.

Emma: "But isn't it inconvenient?"

Silvio: "Do I look like a man who would do something I dislike?"

Emma: "No, a tyrant wouldn't do that."

Silvio: "That's right."

Silvio: "So?"

Emma: "Hm?"

Silvio: "If you have something you want, just say it. I'll let you feel like a queen once in a while."

(Is it really okay to ask him anything?)

Using the prince of Benitoite and the future king in this way felt a little awkward but, at the same time, intriguing.

(That tyrant is saying he'll do anything, so there's no way I'm not happy about this.)

(I'll rely on him wholeheartedly since it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.)

Silvio: "I'll tell you this in advance, if I think it's a worthless request, I'll ignore it."

Emma: "But you said you'd listen to anything!"

Silvio: "If you want me to listen, then tame me. Can you do that?"

(He's so overprotective and yet so mean.)

Emma: "Alright, I understand."

Emma: "Then, for my first request, please take me to my room."

Silvio: "I refuse."

Emma: "Huh? Why not?"

(It's such a simple request.)

Silvio: "It'd be easier for me if you stayed here in my room."

Emma: "I'm just going to sleep."

Silvio: "You might get thirsty in the middle of the night and need to go get water, among other things."

(He's tougher than I thought.)

Suddenly, I noticed a large stack of documents on a desk in the corner.

I could tell that these were related to his business negotiations, and they should've already been sorted out if I hadn't gotten in the way.

Silvio: "It has nothing to do with you."

He seemed to notice my gaze as he playfully ruffled my hair.

Silvio: "Don't overthink things."

Emma: "But..."

Silvio: "Just go to sleep."

My words disappear in a tender kiss.

(It's so unfair. I can't resist this side of him.)

Emma: "No! Absolutely not!"

Silvio: "You're being stubborn."

The next morning, I firmly rejected him with all my might.

(This is not the time to say, "I can't resist him"!)

I grabbed my half-removed nightgown and glared at him.

Emma: "I can at least change my clothes by myself!"

Silvio: "If you change them yourself, you'll have to put your feet on the floor."

Emma: "You're worrying too much!"

Silvio: "Why are you getting embarrassed now?"

Silvio: "There are plenty of things more embarrassing than this."

I instinctively grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at him.

However, for a seasoned sailor with many experiences from long voyages, it wasn't much of an attack, as he easily caught it.

Silvio: "Hey."

Emma: "If you're willing to listen to me, turn around and close your eyes right now!"

Silvio: "I can't hear you."

Emma: "You said you'd let me feel like a queen!"

Silvio: "Queens usually have someone else help them change."

(If I say this, he'll say that.)

Emma: "Then I have an idea."

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

Silvio: "If you want me to listen, then tame me. Can you do that?"

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

(To tame him and make him obey...)

Emma: *cough, cough*

Silvio: "Hey, what's wrong!?"

Part 2╎Premium╎Epilogue╎Special Story

[lance-space-mommy]

Break The Cycle

Being quirkless sucked ass.

Izuku was simply doing his best to survive in a world where people hated his existence. He honestly didn’t understand their obsession with his quirkless status. It wasn’t like he was a threat to them nor did his existence have any direct effect on them.

Maybe they were jealous that he got to avoid the entire hierarchy by naturally being at the bottom.

Having random people hate him wasn’t Izuku’s problem. He could easily say the unwanted hate was a reflection of the person insulting him rather than it being about him.

The problem Izuku had was how the people he knew and loved dumped him the instant he was quirkless. No matter how much time had passed or the knowledge he gained, he couldn’t understand why people gave quirks so much power.

After all, quirks were useless outside of mundane use and self-defense. If you wanted to use your quirk for a purpose, you needed a license.

Nobody in his life who used their quirk on him owned a license. All the people who gave up on him also didn’t own a license.

They were as worthless as he was.

Inko Midoriya left a trail of scars some of Izuku's worst bullies couldn't compete with.

Despite Inko being a stay-at-home mother and having a husband pay all the bills, she was the farthest thing from a mother. She was neglectful, emotionally abusive, and extremely narcissistic. It didn't help that nothing Izuku did was ever good enough.

No one at school knew that Aldera Junior High wasn't the only hell hole Izuku had to deal with.

It was a cold, but bright winter day. Izuku had just gotten situated in his seat when his three tormentors approached him. Most people would believe Izuku dreaded whenever they appeared, but he found them to be more of a comfort than anything else.

They were a constant in his life even if they called him names or purposefully tried to put him down. They always approached him first thing in the morning and during the school day's last moments.

They never physically attacked him or made him feel unsafe. If anything, their constant presence protected him.

During their first year at Aldera Junior High, some upperclassmen were a threat. No one got a chance to mess with Izuku because Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio were already "bullying" him.

"Hey, Deku! You look more sickly than usual," greeted Katsuki, the person Izuku had a hidden admiration for.

"Not a surprise a quirkless loser like you can't handle a little snow," teased Tejio, the guy with spiky teeth for a quirk. It became a habit for him to stick up his nose when it came to Izuku.

Hifumi, the bully with a long-finger quirk, didn't bother speaking. He was too busy typing on his phone. He recently hit it off with a girl and is busy trying to find out where she was in the school.

Izuku looked up at the three with a deep frown, not really having any motivation to give his usual sporadic response of rambles. Katsuki, as observant as ever, took note of the extreme change of attitude. While he was originally irritated, a part of him grew worried that Izuku wasn't just pale because he was cold, but rather because he had a cold.

Before Katsuki could make another remark, Izuku spoke up in a broken voice. "I... uh... I'm."

Katsuki froze, caught off guard by how weird Izuku was being. Hifumi was now paying attention, concerned about what was going on. Sure, he was an asshole and made an effort to ruin Izuku's day, but he knew something was wrong and they weren't the source of his distress.

"Well? I don't have all day," barked Katsuki, crossing his arms as he kicked the leg of Izuku's desk.

"I'm moving... today is my last day here," revealed Izuku in a quiet voice, shifting his gaze to the surface of his desk.

The news of the annoying, nerdy, quirkless kid should have made Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio jump in the air and celebrate. Yet, the three were stuck in place, staring at Izuku as they waited for him to say it was a joke.

In one instant, the three teens realized just how important Izuku was to them. It was a disgusting feeling, knowing they formed a strong bond with the person they claimed to hate. Suddenly, the person they'd had around since elementary was now leaving in less than twelve hours.

"Huh? Aunty Inko is really dragging you away?" questioned Katsuki, his sharp tone vanishing into something tamer.

Tejio nodded at Katsuki's question before he backed the blond up. "Not that I care, but this seems very last-minute."

Izuku rolled his top lip in and bit it for a moment, before popping his lips. Flicking his eyes up to the three, he let his fingers brush the soft edge of his notebook. "Yeah, it is pretty last minute, but family problems don't wait for anyone."

"Is someone dying?" asked Hifumi out of the blue. Tejio was quick to jab him in the ribs for asking a question like that so suddenly.

"No! No one is dying... it's just personal things," admitted Izuku, not planning on telling his peers that he was planning on running away.

Hifumi scoffed, rolling his eyes. "There is no way you're leaving because of us."

Izuku shook his head with a weak smile. "No, I'm not. If I was going to leave because of the school, I would have done it in between year change. Besides, I like how close this school is to home."

"So, what fucked up shit has you booking it out of here?" pressed Katsuki, knowing that digging for information was the last thing he should be doing. He didn't want to give off the impression that he was worried. Although, that concern wouldn't matter with Izuku moving away.

"I can't tell anyone about it. My mom doesn't want me talking about it," mumbled Izuku, trying to keep this conversation from reaching the ears of his other classmates. The fewer people that knew the better.

"Damn, it sounds serious," huffed Tejio, rubbing the back of his neck.

Izuku flashed a strained smile in response. "Let's just say it is."

As the school day continued, the harder it was for Katsuki to comprehend that Izuku was leaving. He's never known life without Izuku. Now he was expected to show up to school the following morning and stare at Izuku's empty desk.

The end of the day arrived and Izuku walked out the front doors without looking back. Katsuki watched Izuku walk away, letting the new wave of emotions fester inside him.

He wasn't going to chase Izuku or apologize at the last minute, but a part of him knew he'd regret it.

Hifumi let out a loud sigh before turning to look at Katsuki. "Damn. It's gross that I feel happy for him."

"No, I get where you're coming from. This place is kinda a shithole if you think about it," agreed Tejio, turning to Hifumi.

"I bet Deku snitched on us and his mom decided to just leave," scoffed Katsuki. At this point, he'd say anything to deflect and make himself feel better.

Izuku walked home, up the steps to the apartment, and sucked in a deep breath. This was it. This was going to be the last time he ever walked into his home.

It took weeks of sneaking around to find all his documentation and anything that truly belonged to him. Everything he was taking with him had to fit in his school bag and a small-sized duffle bag. He couldn't raise any suspicion considering he never knew which version of his mom he was going to be speaking to.

Best case scenario she was going to be neglectful and not even say goodbye to him on the way out.

Making his way to the door, Izuku called out to Inko. "Hey Mom, I'll be leaving now."

The sound of rushed footsteps caught his attention. Inko appeared at the end of the hall with a small smile. Tensing up out of fear his mother was in a good mood and was going to ask a bunch of questions, Izuku swallowed hard.

"Don't go for too long," chuckled Inko softly, extending out an arm as she approached. "Come back home right after school tomorrow."

Izuku pulled open the door, refusing to look Inko in the eye out of fear she'd sense something was wrong. "I will, I promise." It was quiet for a moment before Izuku felt a strong urge to say, "I love you."

Not expecting a response, Izuku gasped when Inko happily echoed, "I love you too. Take care."

Suddenly running away felt incredibly hard. He loved his mother and saw how she was struggling with being abandoned by her husband while being expected to raise a child alone.

Despite the part of him screaming to turn around, run into her arms, and sob… he knew he couldn’t. Within the next hour, she could be angry or detached. He was tired of always fearing his mother’s wrath.

Izuku made his way to the nearest train station and started his journey. He took train after train till he was at least 10 prefectures away from the city of Musutafu. Running on nothing but limited luck and hope for a better future, he made his way to a cafe.

He had looked up jobs in the region and found an incredible opportunity. As long as he worked full-time at the cafe, he would be able to stay in the apartment on the third floor. Of course, rent would automatically be taken out of his paycheck, but that wasn’t an issue.

Izuku wore a snow hat and a bushy scarf during his interview. That way his hair was completely covered as well as his freckles.

The owner was kind and gentle. It was clear she loved her job and simply needed an extra hand. Izuku was willing to be that person.

Thankfully, the woman was desperate so Izuku was given the green light to move in immediately and would start working the next morning. Without a single worry, he agreed.

After a box of black hair dye and some full-coverage foundation, Izuku happily made his way down into the closed cafe to sign documents.

Twenty-four hours passed and as the weight was lifted off Izuku’s shoulders, hell broke loose in a small region in Musutafu.

While Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio weren’t surprised to see Izuku was absent, the adults were. Before lunch arrived, news broke out that Izuku was missing. Inko was called regarding her son's absence. She tried calling him, but no response.

Inko called her best friend Mitsuki, the mother of Katsuki. Izuku had claimed he was spending the night only to never have shown up. According to Mitsuki, she was never alerted that Izuku was supposed to come over.

Katsuki felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over him at the news. He lied to Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio about moving. Izuku most definitely ran away. He couldn’t be sure he wasn’t the cause of it, but he figured Inko was part of the reason.

Last-minute. Family issues. Serious. Inko doesn’t want him talking about it.

Something was fishy about the situation.

It wouldn’t be until five long years later that Katsuki would meet Izuku again. Katsuki was supposed to go on a business trip despite being the number one hero. He was going to be a representative for the Hero Agency as some of the people working on support gear really wanted to work with this Hero Support Department.

All he knew was that was underground, but ridiculously good.

Much to Katsuki’s surprise, the Hero Support building was huge. If his coworkers said that this business was underground, then they were still beyond successful.

Marching into the elevator where he was to be taken to the top floor. He enjoyed not being hounded by the people rushing around. It was clear they prioritized their work over getting an autograph from a famous hero.

When the doors slid open, Katsuki was met with a pretty basic floor plan. On one side of the floor was the office while on the other was the workroom for Support gear.

Assuming the largest office belonged to the owner, Katsuki entered calmly. The last thing Katsuki expected to see was Izuku standing by the windows lining the room.

“Holy shit. Izuku?”

Izuku’s head whipped around, staring at Katsuki. “Kacchan?

Katsuki, in his hero suit and all, raced over to Izuku. Izuku already felt the tears of relief form in his eyes as his chest was filled with uncontrollable emotions. Katsuki pulled Izuku close, crushing him in a hug.

With close to no hesitation, Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki and cried. He spent so many years alone trying to navigate the hero world alone. Just being reminded that there was someone who missed him and was happy to see him brought Izuku such joy.

“What the hell Nerd?” croaked Katsuki, pulling back to look at Midoriya’s face.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” sighed Izuku softly, looking up at Bakugo with a guilty frown.

Katsuki shook his head, raising a hand to rest against his forehead. “One day you say you're leaving because of family problems and the next you’re reported missing. Do you have any idea how fucking insane that is?”

Izuku nodded stiffly. Katsuki noted that the nodding was less meant for him and more toward Izuku himself. Izuku stepped back to lean on his desk. “It was insane. I was the one who lived it. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about my plans to run away. I had no intention of ever returning if you couldn’t tell.”

“I got the memo. But still, your mother was devastated… I can’t imagine why you’d leave her without even a note,” stated Katsuki gently despite the rasp in his voice.

Shaking his head, Izuku let it fall forward as a pain-filled smile spread across his face. “Kacchan. She’s the reason I ran away.”

Within a matter of seconds, Katsuki’s world was flipped upside down. Despite his initial suspicion of Inko being involved in the disappearance of Izuku, she had flawlessly manipulated him into a false sense of security. She claimed that Izuku hadn’t been acting any different, that she was happy he was getting out more, and a plethora of sappy mom crap he truly couldn’t have cared less about.

In the end, Inko was the reason. All those days she cried and begged for someone to find her son; she was the reason he was gone. The countless times she was over at their place for dinner, rambling on about Izuku and how incredible he was, she drove him away. Inko played the victim so well and that said everything Katsuki needed to know.

As Katsuki processed the information and the past years without Izuku and his interactions with Inko, Izuku watched. Fierce green eyes lasered in on Katsuki’s expression as the truth sunk in. It was relieving to see that Katsuki instantly trusted him.

“Damn.”

“Yeah…”

Katsuki kicked an imaginary stone before meeting Izuku’s gaze. “So… what did she do? Where did you go? How’d you end up here?”

Izuku smiled, walking to the glass windows lining the room. “She was sometimes good, but she was an extreme narcissist at heart. She was neglectful in all ways you could think of and without fail… every day, she was emotionally abusive.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? You know Aunty would have helped,” pointed out Bakugo. While he wasn’t necessarily trying to victim-blame Midoriya, he wanted to know why Midoriya hadn’t reached out to outlets he had before making such a serious choice.

Stepping back to turn around and face Katsuki again, Izuku scowled. “I’m sorry, but do you have no idea how dumb you sound right now?”

Gawking in disbelief, Katsuki crossed his arms in defense. “Fucking excuse me? That’s a very good question to ask considering you chose to run away without letting anyone know instead of trying to get help if you were in a bad situation.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Izuku shook his head. “I don’t think you are listening to me. I just told you Inko was a narcissist. If I were to reach out to Mitsuki for help, she would confront my mom, and the entire problem would somehow be my fault in the end. If Mitsuki somehow wasn’t fooled, I’d still be forced to come back home and that was the last thing I wanted to happen.”

“Shit… sorry. It’s just I don’t understand how you just decided to leave everything behind,” clarified Katsuki slowly, raising his shameful head to meet Izuku’s disappointed gaze.

There was a heavy atmosphere in the room, but Izuku and Katsuki weren’t about to walk away from the conversation without figuring things out.

Deflating after letting thirty long seconds of silence pass, Izuku stressed, “It was for the best. Being at home was a nightmare and I needed to get out. Trying to survive in the world as a quirkless teen was far less scary than the idea of being under the same roof as Inko for another moment.”

Katsuki nodded slowly, stepping toward Izuku to reach for his hand. As soon as his large soft fingers linked with Izuku's small rough ones, he tightened his grip. “I’m sorry. You deserved better. I bet it wasn’t an easy decision to make and I know you had to work your ass off to get to this point. Fuck Inko and the shit she did to you, it’s clear you didn’t need to stick around to achieve greatness.”

Lip wobbling and glassy-eyed, Izuku sniffled as he squeezed Katsuki’s hand back. “Thank you, Kacchan. It was hard… leaving you behind. I wanted to tell you—I really did, I just couldn’t risk it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for keeping yourself safe idiot,” chastised Katsuki fondly, lowering his head to focus on the small changes in Izuku’s mature features.

“Right,” croaked Izuku, doing his best to not flood his office with tears. “I worked at a coffee shop full time and lived in an apartment on top of the cafe. I had a good paycheck, a place to live, and I was able to use all my free time to finish my schooling online. Once I graduated, I just started climbing the social ladder while doing countless programs in the hero support gear field.”

Katsuki grinned, letting go of Izuku’s hand to rest both hands on his hips. “Not surprised a nerd like you was able to pull all of this off. Still, I’m not planning on letting you disappear on me again.”

Izuku quickly wiped his face before running his fingers through his hair. “Likewise. We will be business partners after all.”

“Huh? You mean you’re accepting my agency's request to have our hero gear produced solely by your department?” quizzed Katsuki, eagerly. While he was more than thrilled to see Izuku again and know that the missing piece of him was no longer missing, he really did want the best for his hero agency and all the heroes working with him.

“Of course! While I do have favorites and you are one of them, I’d never turn down work proposals!” cheered Izuku quickly as he made his way to his desk where stacks of papers were sitting.

“Hell yeah!”

“But just know I’m still expecting compensation for a decade of your bullying,” teased Izuku, raising a contract with a devilish smile.

Shivering with a manic smirk on his face, Katsuki enthusiastically snatched the paper from Izuku. “Sign me up.”

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. )

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

" you're being a jerk. "

" you know i have somewhere i have to be. "

" guess it depends on what you believe. "

" you want your usual, right? "

" you beat up a man in broad daylight. "

" it's like you're not even trying here. "

" i am just trying to figure out who you are. "

" you want the job or not? "

" thanks for babysitting. "

" i wish someone would buy me a ring. "

" that good-looking guy i recognise, who are all these other punks? "

" you should know what happens to little kids who don't eat their dinners. their bodies stay the same size forever and they never get to ride the adult rides at the amusement park. "

" how about some burger with that ketchup? "

" everything's better swimming in ketchup. "

" don't tell me to calm down. "

" you know that this is the right thing to do. "

" i'm hardly fit to be raising a kid. "

" just keep your eyes on the monitor and keep people out. "

" we're going to have so much fun together. "

" you do realise that lunch is the most important meal of the day? "

" it's just a theory. "

" sleeping is not a crime. "

" why don't we just kill him? "

" i'm coming with you. "

" about time, starting to think maybe you fell asleep on the job. "

" you're bleeding, by the way. "

" i like to stay well-informed. "

" i really loved this place as a kid. "

" you've been acting suspicious since the moment you opened the door. "

" it's been a weird night. "

" this place... it gets to people. "

" you security hires, you never last. "

" wanna dance? "

" don't let this place get to you. "

" warmer... "

" i made a mess, i'm sorry. "

" it's not funny! "

" it's nice that we can finally agree about something. "

" you just have to know how to look. "

" from where i sit, i'd say you're lucky. "

" no more sleeping on the job. "

" you're not here to have fun. "

" i'll give you anything you want. "

" i thought i was gonna die. "

" you can come out now! "

" i won't get angry at you. "

" ghost children possessing giant robots? thanks for the heads-up. "

" they're spring locks. "

" they tend to be pretty unstable. "

" i don't think they like me very much. "

" i don't really see how that's any of your business. "

" finding the guy that did this is the only thing that matters to me. "

" you just had an accident, you're okay. "

" i saw your eyes, you were terrified. "

" you were never the right person to take care of her. "

" you can't stay in there forever, you know? "

" i managed to stop the bleeding, but you're probably gonna need stitches. "

" they tried to kill me. "

" it's not just their ghosts that are inside of those machines. "

" it's their bodies. "

" i tried to warn you. "

" he really messed you up, didn't he? "

" you couldn't just leave it alone, could you? "

" i have something for you to play with. "

" a little old for temper tantrums, aren't we? "

" you had one job, one. "

" that's two jobs. "

" i won't let you hurt her, too. "

" they know what you did. "

" look at the nasty things that you have become! "

" look how small you are, how worthless you are! "

" you are wretched, rotten little beasts. "

" i made you! "

" i always come back. "

" i'm having a hard time just processing everything that happened. "

" you never know what can happen. "

" do you think if you drink enough milk, you just turn into a cow? "

[one-idea]

I just realized that I misswrote something on the post the other day about the whitebeards assuming that fem ace was pregnant.

But it gave me another idea:

The whitebeards assuming that Ace and Deuce are married due to their antics.

(Mainly because of Deuce having that fond and kind of gleeful expression whenever ace destroys things and them sleeping together all the time)

Listen!!!! Everyone knows Deuce is in love with Ace. There is no secret there.

No if we are staying in the Whitebread mistaking Ace for being pregnant after she meets Sabo again (see post here)

Deuce is being super sweet and supportive. He’s trying his best (along with the other spades) to shut down any rumors about their former captain.

Until one day he goes to drop of Ace’s dinner and he tries to talking to her again. “You know I’m always here for you. No matter what. I know we’re on a new crew but you will always be my captain and I will always be YOUR 1st mate. I will be by our side no matter what.” Deuce trying to be comforting even though Ace hasn’t looked at him in weeks.

Ace, who has spent the past month think about her brother what was supposed dead for years only to be alive and forgotten their bond. Questioning if she’s even worth remembering. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Even the strongest bonds fade over time. No matter how strong they were or how much they promised.”

Deuce, for the first time wondering if the rumors are true and his best friend/crush did fall in love and get pregnant only to be abandoned. What else could make her feel this way? She always believed in her bonds with people. Her younger sibling Luffy being the most important. And as far as Deuce knew Luffy was fine. “bonds might change but my loyalty to you never will. If you need me I’ll be there. No matter what.”

Ace actually turns to look at him. She’s crying again and she wants so badly not to cry anymore but Sabo is alive and wants nothing to do with her and it’s been so long since she’s felt this worthless. “Stay with me?”

Deuce stays. They’re not doing anything just taking and sleeping. But the rumor mill goes crazy. People talking about how Deuce finally got the girl. How he’s stepping up for Ace and they’re proud of him. Some wonder if it was a lovers spat all along.

But some a ruder about it. And one poor soul, probably Teach because he sucks. Says something about Deuce being so pathetically in love that he’d take a ruined woman and her bastard. Deuce hears it and it’s the first time he’s ever punched a crew mate before. Not because of what they said about him but because of the disrespect and latent sexism towards Ace. (Who again is not pregnant)

Whitebeard is big stressed. He’s got so many rumors flying. A possible grandchild on the way. A possible father as a revolutionary to hunt down. And one of his doctors just broke his hand from punching another one of his son’s in the face. (He proud once the whole story is explained but why him)

When Sabo shows up everyone one of the gossipers is ready for a show down only to be slack jawed because 1) that’s Ace’s brother! 2) she’s not pregnant!

And somehow Deuce and Marcos get roped in (Ace asked them) to giving Sabo a full exam (he was just tackled to the ground) main to insure he’s memories are all right.

Once again quite a confusing day for all.

On the other hand if we’re talking about another story entirely when fem Ace and Deuce are assumed to be married.

The Whitebeard’s are the biggest gossips. You do not have a crew that big that’s all “family” and not get into each others business.

And deuce is so obviously in love with his formal captain. He watches he burn down enemies (a terrifying thing to witness) like it’s a work of art. He is warm to her and goes out of his way to make sure they still see each other as much as possible.

But Ace does to. Their stand offish little sister is warm to her former crew in general but it’s obvious that Deuce is special. She goes out of her way to see him. Even hang out in the infirmary when he can’t leave. A place most commanders avoid like the plague.

The two used to share a room on their old ship and it’s not uncommon for Deuce to spend the night in Ace’s quarters now.

All the Whitebeard’s think they’re married. Heck most of the Spades think they’re married. It’s only the original crew that knows they’re not. They don’t correct anyone because they have so many bets on when the two idiots will actually get together and refuse to have any of these idiots speed up their time tables.

It isn’t until Ace is hanging out with the other commanders on night and Izou asks Ace if she’d like to invite her husband to join them. (They wouldn’t mind him joining them, sure it’s normally commanders only but they can make an exception for the only married pair.)

Ace looks are him supper confused, but before she can speak Marco does. “My fault. I scheduled Deuce to work tonight so I could join you. Next time I’ll put someone else in charge.” He directs the second point to Ace almost as if he’s apologizing for incovining her.

Now Ace is very confused because “I’m not married to Deuce.”

“You’re not!” They all yell at once before looking between each other.

“Do you want to be?” Thatch asked and Ace started sputtering. And that’s it. The commanders are looking between each other. It’s game on. You ever gets Ace and Deuce together wins.

Once Ace leaves they establish rules. They can have help from their divisions. So if one of the nurses convinces Deuce to propose then Marco wins. What do they win. Being Whitebeard’s current favorite. He’s not a man who ranks his children but he was there for the whole conversation. If Ace and Deuce aren’t married and decide to get married guess who is marrying them! Thats right Whitebeard. He’s pumped. The winner gets unofficial title of favorite plus a week off.

The game is on.

Meanwhile Ace is now looking at Deuce completely differently. She had never thought of him in that light before but now… her whole world view has shifted.

She’s trying to navigate this monumental shift while getting pushed into increasingly crazy scenarios with Deuce.

Meanwhile Deuce has always known he had a crush on her. He knew Ace didn’t see him that way so he had decided to ignore it and be friends. Ace’s friendship was enough. But now Ace is acting weird around him and they keep getting stuck together and the nurse and doctors have started telling him how cute they would be together and he feels like he’s losing his mind a bit. It’s not going to happen and he’s okay with that.

It’s a lot of shenanigans

[alder-saan]

Why hello it’s me again…I absolutely adored the last writing you did for me I was wondering if I could request another… or course as a Cersei simp maybe a Cersei x FemMaiden/Nanny for her children ? Where Cersei is frustrated and lashes out on her secret girlfriend and for once feels horrible about it ?

If that’s confusing I apologize!

Much love ❤️

I believe you

Okay okay, I went somehow a bit far with this one. That's why I need to say something : VIOLENCE ISN'T OKAY. This is a fiction. I wrote it trying not to romantize it too much. If your partner (or just a friend, or a relative) hit you, that's a real problem, and don't hesitate to ask for help. I made an open ending, if reader forgive or not, that's up to you. And sorry, it's a bit shorter that the usual, but I didn't want to write many description (bcz of artistic reasons?)

Cersei Lannister x Reader

TW : physical violence, torture (on animals), Jeoffrey Lannister

Words count : ~ 1300

“No Jeoffrey, your mother told you to stay in your room.”

“You’ll have to make me, worthless servant!”

You held back from slapping him. He was still a boy, but already unbearable. You were usually taking care of Myrcella, but today, Jeoffrey’s nanny was sick, and Cersei had asked you to watch him, while she found a replacement. But this situation made you nervous. You didn’t like him. He was unbearable. And Myrcella  told you about him, about the way he acted. He was pure evil.

“Now, find something to do in your room.”

You really missed Myrcella, right now. Calm, daydreaming almost all day…

“Come with me then. You wouldn’t want someone to attack me, would you? Or maybe you are a traitor, and my mother will hear about it.”

You sighed.

“Yes, I will come with you.”

You led the way to his room. You really didn’t like it. It was always full of agonising insects, to which he removed the legs and wings “for fun”. Once, you saw him playing with the body of a half dead cat, and almost threw up. This child was really scary.

But how could you refuse anything from Cersei, your Cersei… Especially when she asked you something in the morning, while you were waking up naked in her bed. The thoughts of your last night spent in her sheets made you shudder. That was a few days ago. You missed her. She has been busy these days, and has had no time for you. But that was okay, you knew once everything was done, it would be nice again.

You entered his room, shivering. Now you just had to watch him until evening. You sat on a chair and opened the book you brought to pass time. 

Soon you heard a strange, almost plaintive squeaking sound.

“What are you doing, Jeoffrey?”

“I’m dismembering a beetle! It’s fun, it’s screaming!”

“Stop hurting animals.”

“It’s just a beetle!”

“And yet it can feel pain. If not, it wouldn’t scream like this.”

“You’re not funny.”

You didn’t answer and continued reading your book.

When Jeoffrey approached you, you ignored him. He made you feel really uncomfortable, and so you didn’t want to speak to him or to do something with him.

Then you felt him prick your hand which was under the book with a needle. 

“Do you feel pain?” he asked.

Your body reacts by itself and you hit him with your book.

“You son of a b-” You stopped before insulting your lover.

While he was crying on the floor, because you hit him, you felt a bit guilty. But you couldn’t move to help him and comfort him. He was a horrible child who loved torturing animals. You were not sure he deserved your helm.

“My mother will hear about this!”

“Yeah, go tell your mother.”

You trusted her. She would believe you, you knew it. And as Jeoffrey ran out of his room, you opened your book again and continued reading, for a few minutes. You enjoyed the stillness of the room, without him in it.

Soon you heard the door slamming open.

“Y/N!”

You turned your head towards Cersei, who was yelling your name, Jeoffrey in her arms.

“You had ONE job! Watching Jeoffrey! First you let him escape from his room, without monitoring, and now I learnt you beat Jeoffrey?”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up, I’m talking. I like you, Y/N, but you know full well there are three people in the world you can’t hurt if you want to keep me by your side, right? Jeoffrey is one of them.” 

Okay, she was really mad. She was looking at you with such anger in her eyes. That was terrifying. She was unrecognisable, Cersei had never been so rude with you. You stood up and walked towards her.

“I’m sorry that was a… It was a reflex, I didn't do it on purpose”

“A reflex? Beating my child? A REFLEX?”

“No, I-”

SMACK

You held your breath. A burn was beginning to invade your cheek. You put your hand on it. It was hot. What had just happened?

“That was a reflex, Y/N. Now out.”

You choked back a sob and swallowed your tears. You didn’t want her to see you crying. And while you were walking out of the room, Jeoffrey gave you a big winning smile. You had lost.

You spent the rest of the day in your little room. Lying in bed, snuggled up in the covers, you were crying. You didn't really know why. Were you crying because she had hit you? Was it because you had disappointed her? Was it because Jeoffrey had won? Maybe the three of them. You left your hand on your cheek, even though you were no longer in pain. Why? Why did she do that? Why did she have this look? Why didn’t she believe you? Didn’t she trust you?

Someone knocked upon your door.

You ignored them and tried not to make a sound.

“Y/N, I know you’re here. Open the door.”

You couldn’t reprime a sob when you heard Cersei’s voice.

Silence.

“Open this door, please. I want to talk to you”

You stood up and wiped your tears. Your eyes were still red and puffy. “I look terrible,” you thought as you were seeing them in the small mirror on your wall. You opened the door. She entered and closed it behind her. You couldn’t look her in the eye. When she approached her hand, you took a step back.

“Y/N… I… I’m so sorry. It was mean of me, I have no excuse. But I wanted to apologise to you.”

“That’s okay, your Highness. I’m okay”

“You’re not. That’s not. I hurt you. Physically and mentally.”

You couldn’t speak. Maybe because you didn’t want to.

“Jeoffrey told me you had been violent with him, he told me you kicked him… At first I didn’t believe him, but when I saw his red cheek… Please, tell me what happened.”

“While I was reading, he stuck a needle in my hand. I swear I didn’t want to hit him, but my hand moved anyway and… And I hit him, yes.”

“You didn’t kick him? You didn’t beat him?”

“I didn’t. That was an accident. I’m so sorry.”

“I believe you. That’s not the first time he lies.”

You nodded. She took your hand. You wanted to escape, but you couldn’t move.

“Please, give me another chance. One. Just one chance. I don’t want to lose you. Not like that.”

“I’m afraid…” you whispered “You looked so angry at me… I couldn’t recognize you. As if I didn’t know you.”

“I’m sorry, this week was exhausting, I… I’m tired, I’m stressed out, I’m overworked, and I miss you. I overreacted. I shouldn’t have, I know. That’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Some tears rolled on your cheeks, and she cupped your face and wiped them.

“I’m so sorry, darling. Believe me.” 

You sobbed, and she held you tight. You snuggled into her arms, your head resting on her shoulder. As you were crying, she kissed your forehead and your hair.

“If you need time, I understand. I would wait a thousand years for you.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry. I told you none of this is your fault.”

You nodded, she kissed your head again and again.

“I have to go, love, I have another meeting. But I’ll return to you right after. Okay?”

“Okay, Cersei.”

She was slowly removing her arms from your back, when you stopped her.

“Before you go, can you… kiss me?” you asked

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

She pressed her lips against yours. That wasn’t what you were used to. Usually, she would kiss you as if it was the last time, as if she wanted to eat you entirely. Now, it was soft, it was gentle. As if the kiss was whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”.

_________________________________________________

Again, violence isn't okay.

[fowlfics]

How Frog Earrings Saved the World

Short fic written entirely within discord based on a picture of tiny clay frog earrings one of my friends made!! I might clean it up and post on AO3 later bc it ended up at nearly 1.3k, but for now, here it is

Contains: Sabo, Luffy, Ace, cute earrings, brotherly bonding & potential spoilers for Dressrosa if you're reading this before then, light angst

"Ooooh, this looks fancy!" Luffy absently called out towards his brothers, digging a small jewelry box out of the pile of trash.

He dusted it off as his brothers approached, only opening it when they were right over his shoulders.

".....whoah," Luffy gasped out, staring at the contents with stars in his eyes.

"That's rubbish," Ace scoffed derisively, moving back to the pile he had been digging through before.

"Ace is mean and grumpy," Luffy stuck his tongue out at Ace's turned back. The boy seemed to have sensed that - or he just knew Luffy far too well - and had raised a middle finger over his shoulder.

"He's right though," Sabo said, straightening up. "It might be pretty, but it's rather worthless."

Pouting, Luffy turned to look at him, pushing the small box with two very tiny clay frog earrings inside into Sabo’s face. "But I like it!"

Sabo smiled. "That just means you can keep it, yeah? It could be part of your treasure that you wear- or, well, I guess you can't, but-"

"I can wear them?" Luffy repeated eagerly.

"Well, no, your ears don't have the holes-"

"I can wear them in my ears?!"

"I- You know what," Sabo sighed. "Yes, you can wear it in your ears."

***

"Stop. Wriggling," Sabo said, exasperated, putting the needle down from where he had almost pressed it to Luffy's ear. "I can't do this if you keep moving!"

"Sorry," Luffy said, but didn't seem to be able to stop waving his legs excitedly.

"Here," Ace passed by, grabbing one of Luffy's hands and dropping into it a random beetle which he had probably just picked up from the ground. "That ought to keep him busy."

He was right, of course. Luffy stilled completely, his hand brought up so close to his face that his nose was nearly touching the beetle.

Sabo didn't waste the opportunity. It was a testament to how engrossed Luffy was - or how large his pain tolerance was - when he didn't even wince at the feeling.

By the time the beetle finally remembered it could fly away, Sabo had pierced both of Luffy's ears and placed the frog earrings in the holes.

"Okay!" Luffy straightened out. "I'll stay still, I promise!"

...Seems like he had genuinely not noticed anything Sabo had just done.

"No need," Sabo smirked and continued before Luffy could complain. "Go take a look in the mirror."

"!!!" Somehow, Luffy was capable of perfectly conveying that with his whole body. "You put it in!!! That's so cool!!! It's so- Oh, you put both of them in my ears?"

Frowning at the sudden change in tone, Sabo stepped closer to Luffy, looking his reflection in the eye. "Did you not want that?"

Fiddling with the earring, Luffy had somehow managed to pull it out of his ear without causing any damage. "There's two of them, so one's for you!"

"Oi!" Ace, the eavesdropping idiot, butted in. "What about me?"

Luffy didn't even look his way, too focused on Sabo. "Ace called these ugly trash so he won't get one."

Sabo couldn't help but snicker at Ace's outraged grumbling.

"Alright," he said, gingerly taking the offered frog and putting it into the ear holes his parents had insisted on.

For the first time, Sabo didn't mind them forcing him to get a piercing anymore.

"Now we match!" Luffy exclaimed excitedly, throwing himself at Sabo.

"Now we match."

***

Luffy spent a lot of time on the cliff overlooking the sea, one hand always resting on the frog earring.

He only had one, now. One frog. One brother.

"Ugh, you gotta stop being so... so maudlin!" Ace complained, pacing behind Luffy as he had for the past half an hour. "Sabo's gone, so what? We're still here! And, more importantly, our treasure is gone, so we have to start from scratch-"

"I don't care," Luffy mumbled into his knees petulantly.

Ace's sigh was unnecessarily loud.

"Look, I-!" He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would it make you feel better if I had a matching earring with you, too?"

Luffy straightened up, looking over at Ace in surprise. His oldest brother had always scoffed at the idea before; For him to offer...

"YES!" Luffy jumped up, throwing himself at Ace. "YES PLEASE!"

***

Makino didn't know how to make earrings, but that was okay. Luffy could figure it out on his own. He just needed some thin wire and black paint and the resulting beetles were pretty misshapen, but they were still recognizably bugs, and that's all that mattered.

(Ace winced when he saw the results, but didn't comment. )

Makino did know how to pierce ears, though. She did Ace's right one only - he insisted on that - and re-did Luffy's free one, seeing as the hole Sabo had made had closed already with nothing to hold it open.

As they both looked into the mirror - Ace with his arms crossed, Luffy with his full of snacks - for the first time sine the Terminal fire, Luffy smiled.

***

"Hey, Sabo!" Koala called, waving a newspaper at him. "Come look at this!"

It could have been anything - with Big News Morgan's style of sensational writing, "have been published in a newspaper" wasn't really as much of a filter as Sabo would have liked - but knowing Koala, this expression spelled shenanigans.

Sabo approached cautiously, in case the newspaper was just an excuse to prank him.

But no; As he got closer, Koala folded the paper to show the bounties, pushing it towards Sabo.

"This new guy who just got a bounty has the same earring as you do!"

"...That's weird," Sabo said, taking the newspaper. "Maybe it's a really popular design in the East? Damn, 30 mil as his starting bounty is pretty wild, though."

"And we've never seen it before?" Koala said skeptically. "Oh, the bounty's one thing, but also! He's not just from the East; He's from Dawn Island!"

Sabo blinked. "Maybe this kind of an earring is just... Really popular on Dawn Island?" He repeated his earlier suggestion.

He's not really sure what Koala had been expecting. For him to magically regain his memories just because a guy was wearing a frog earring-?

"And!" Koala raised a finger, taking the newspaper back. "Not only does he match with you, he also matches with-" She triumphantly held out two bounties. "This guy! They both have a... Well, I don't know what it's meant to be, but it's clearly the same thing."

Sabo blinked as he glanced between the posters. There and back, Strawhat and Firefist, Luffy and Ace.

"...He said he would never get an earring," he mumbled. "Called it trashy. Called it a risk in a fight. Called it _ugly_. Who's wearing ugly earring now, huh, Ace? At least mine's a fancy one..."

"Uh, Sabo?" Koala looked over the top of the bounties. "You realize you are talking to pictures, right?"

"Never mind that!" Sabo groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "Where the hell am I meant to find someone to do custom earrings for me?"

"...?"

"Luffy's going to be easy," Sabo motioned towards his bounty. "I'll just find him and tell him I'm alive and he'll be happy as a clam. But Ace? I'm going to have to do some SERIOUS grovelling for all those years-"

Koala seemed rather baffled at that idea. "... You have - had? - amnesia."

"Yes," Sabo nodded. "And he's going to give me so much grief about forgetting him."

"I... don't think he would hold this against you?"

"Then you clearly don't know Ace. Anyways, that's why I need the custom earring; We both match with Luffy, but if I want to get away only lightly maimed, I'll have to find something cool to match with him. Do you think he'd like a scorpion?"

[flamemittens]

Dark Urge Asks: Past Life Edition

Number 9 please: What would a typical meeting of the chosen have looked like when your Durge attended?

A/N: Sorry I took so long, but hopefully this answers the question. 1.1k words. Named Durge. Mildly suggestive in a couple places.

*Now extended and on AO3*

Negotiations

They have been at this for hours.

When the Chosen of the Dead Three come together lately, it is always like this. Fraught, uneasy, and frustrating. And it is only getting worse, as the culmination of all their combined efforts approaches and tensions inevitably rise. Gortash sighs as he feels the onset of a headache, pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to massage it into submission.

Ketheric sits in a high-backed chair at the head of the table, papers spread out in front of him. Gortash himself stands at the other end, and Morgayne sits in between them. Their usual configuration.

Throughout, his Bhaalspawn has said virtually nothing. He wishes that she wouldn’t stay so quiet, that she would demonstrate that intelligence he knows roils beneath the surface, waiting to surprise those who would discount her—but instead she remains mostly silent. Observes.

She is simultaneously offended and yet profoundly fascinated by Thorm’s immortality. She surveys him with her predator’s gaze; intense, cold and calculating, curious what his secret is. He is her unthreadable needle, for the moment. Gortash wonders if it might be possible to discover the information she seeks himself—perhaps he can make a gift of it to her, lay it at her feet, and have her favour him with that smile that licks warmth up his chest.

As the half-elf general talks, Morgayne idly drums her fingers on the oak table—a sure sign to those who know that she is bored, attention drifting. Ketheric notices, but continues with his explanation, irritation simmering, gaze drifting between his notes and her subtle percussive accompaniment. Gortash smiles to himself. She is so very good at this.

However, a sudden overwhelming need to demonstrate unrivalled Bhaalspawn control to the old general wins out over his sense of self-preservation. He strolls over to her and stills her fingers with his, before lifting her hand off the table and placing it firmly in her lap. Luckily, she smiles indulgently at him, so he decides to take a further risk and offer her a wink in return. He is almost positive he can hear Ketheric roll his eyes. But the point has been made.

It is then that a couple of Bhaalists come to the door, silently inclining their heads to indicate their Chosen’s presence is needed. Morgayne gets up from her chair, offers a brief ‘excuse me’, and heads outside.

They are left alone. Ketheric speaks first.

“I would caution you against being so familiar with Bhaal’s Chosen.”

Gortash sneers. “It’s a little late for that, old man. Not that it is any of your business.” He picks up some papers, then turns back to Ketheric. “It seems you are in the habit of doling out unwanted wisdom. What other worthless axioms do you have in store for us I wonder.”

The resigned sigh that Ketheric expels sounds like the soft rush of long-trapped air escaping a broken tomb. The leather of his armour creaks as he shifts in his chair.

“None that you would listen to, or value, in your infinite arrogance” he responds serenely, after a moment.

“I was not asking a question.”

“I know.”

A heavy silence descends as Morgayne returns, her eyes flicking between them in naked curiosity as the two men glare at each other.

“Are we done here?” she asks, amusement plain. “I have some matters to attend to.”

Ketheric nods slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on Gortash. “Yes, we are done here. For now.”

She sighs in obvious relief, and immediately heads for the door, leaving without a second thought. Gortash honours the general with one last scowl and follows Morgayne out of the room. He is not someone who runs, but he catches up to her quickly by virtue of a longer stride.

“Where are you off to?” he asks, feigning indifference.

She turns to face him. “I thought I would see the gnolls.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “You love those bloody things, and I cannot understand why, Mori. Most curious. Hulking, mindless beasts, following you everywhere like overgrown puppy dogs, faithfully trailing after their mistress. And they seem to be fond of you too.” He smirks as he adds “but that part I can understand, of course.”

She grins. “Jealous are you, Enver?”

“Of them?” He shrugs. “Perhaps of their apparent unsurpassed ability to court your attention, my dear.”

“You are.”

“No, I am not” he counters a little too swiftly, sounding petulant even to his own ears—despite knowing that is indeed the shape of the emotion he tries so hard to conceal, even from himself.

He clears his throat. “Well, if you decide you have a yearning for more intelligent conversation, you know where to find it.”

“Yes” she murmurs, stepping closer. Her fingers curl around the lapels of his coat, caressing the gold filigree; it’s a new addition to his wardrobe, something more befitting the ranks he will join once he presents his Steel Watcher prototype to those who will soon be under his heel. Their heel. An intoxicating prospect, a seductive promise—just like the woman in front of him now. They will be where they belong. His pulse thrums at the tangible proximity of it all, of her.

She slowly returns her gaze to his, in a languid drag upwards that he swears his skin can feel. A wicked smile flits across her face, and Enver realises a fraction too late he has walked into this.

“Yes, I do” she repeats. “I shall seek out Ketheric.”

Morgayne winks pointedly at him, gives a teasing tug on the ties of his shirt and pats his chest, then turns and saunters away down the corridor.

“Come to me tonight?” he blurts out to her back, despising how he gives himself away so easily, yet unable to stop the invitation leaving his lips.

She doesn’t stop or turn back, just sketches a lazy wave over her shoulder that is vexingly ambiguous, pitched somewhere between acceptance and outright dismissal. Although, he knows her well enough by now to interpret her whims with reasonable confidence.

As she disappears through a doorway, Enver frowns imperceptibly, then slowly smiles at the recollection of a memory, before schooling his expression back into practiced neutrality—and just in time too, as Ketheric’s odious necromancer rounds the corner.

He’ll take what he wants later. And there’s the thing—she’ll willingly give it to him too. By now the thread between them taut—when one pulls, the other answers.

The game continues, as it always does.

[confiscatedpeaches]

A Pathetic Crush, William Afton x afab Reader

Confessing your feelings for your boss didn't turn out as good as you expected, or did it?

Minors DNI. TW: smut, verbal abuse, noncon/manipulation, SA, implied age-gap, generally not a good time for the reader. Reader is assumed to be 18+

You wait outside his office door, heart beating in your throat. Today is the day, you're finally going to reveal your feelings for your boss. Over the last couple of months you seem to have gotten pretty close to him, even making him laugh a couple of times. He always seemed like such a sweetheart, always kind and considerate towards you.

Late for work because somebody hit your car? "No worries love", have to call in sick last minute? "That's alright darling, I can find someone to cover for you." The pet names were a huge plus, especially with his accent. He never seemed to use them with any of your coworkers either. Maybe he feels something special for you as well?

A few moments pass, could he have not heard your knocking? He is always so busy, you pray you aren't bothering him. You raise your hand to knock again when the door opens.

"Oh hello love, come in, come in."

He gestures you inside before closing the door behind him. You turn to face him. He smiles sweetly and tilts his head.

"What brings you to my office darling?" He asks.

You can feel your pulse quicken.

"Well, honestly Mr. Afton I have something to tell you." You answer.

Your hands are clasped in front of your chest, your fingers turning white from being held so tight. This is your big moment, you finally get to say it.

"Well get on with it doll." He says.

You clear your throat.

"Look I really don't know how to say this, I have been trying to tell you for months now, but I have feelings for you."

His smile remains plastered across his face, but his eyes gain an intensity to them.

"Wow, you really think I'd go out with someone as worthless as you? You're barely worth a quick fuck."

You freeze, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. How could he say something like that? You thought you were friends, maybe something more. You hic, trying to suppress the tears that are now rolling down your cheeks. Who is this man?

"I.. am sorry?" You ask.

"Oh don't be sorry, I'm just surprised you had the gall to actually vocalize your feelings."

You look around, trying to find a way out of this situation, but his tall figure is blocking the only exit.

"I, uh... I don't know what to say."

He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Show me how much you want me darling, don't make me fire you now. I know you really need this job."

What? He's right, but how could he be doing this to you right now?

"Are you daft? Did you not hear me? Get on your fucking knees and beg."

The sudden raising of his voice scared you. Not knowing what to do, you drop to your knees.

"Good bunny. Now, beg."

You look down at the ground. Are you really going to beg? Of course you are, what else could you do?

"I... please.. I like you.. please."

His hand grabs your face, tilting it up towards him.

"Eyes on me love, and try a little harder. Gotta' stay employed right?"

You look up at him. His face twisted into a wicked grin staring down at you. You can feel how erect he is through the thin fabric of his pants.

"Please, I want you... to fuck me.. please."

He groans, petting your head with his hand. It feels so good to please him. You feel your panties becoming wet with slick.

"Mmm, good bunny... say more for me.""

"I.. I want to suck your cock... please... I'll do a good job."

You swallow hard. A mix of embarrassment and pleasure swirls within you. He lets go of your head and unzips his pants. He pulls down his underwear and lets out his fully erect cock. The tip is already wet with precum. The light from the window glistens on it.

"Go on then."

You pause and he smacks you with his erection.

"I said suck. You wanted this right? You little whore."

You place your hand on his cock and begin stroking. You part your lips and slide his member into your mouth. Tongue caressing his head, you notice how salty and warm he tastes. He tastes so good, you let out a small moan.

"You're so pathetic, you can't even suck dick right. Let me show you how to do it."

He grabs the sides of your head before forcing his cock further into your throat, making you gag and jolt. He's so massive, you aren't even sure how you're doing this right now. You feel the tip of his member hit the back of your throat, causing it to tighten. He groans and moans as he thrusts into you.

"God yes... good, fucking, bunny... mmmphh."

His hips smash into your lips over and over. The sound of slapping and the smell of sweat, hormones, and humidity fills the room. At first you remain tense. Part of you wishes to resist him, but eventually you relax and give in. It feels so wrong, but so good. You wish you could stay like this forever. Pleasing him feels wonderful, like you were made to bring him pleasure. You feel like he has broken you somehow, used your libido against you. Made you truly his one and only toy.

"Good, just relax. You're loving this aren't you? Pathetic slut, moaning on my cock."

His grunts intensify. He thrusts faster and faster with each sound he makes. You taste a large warm salty release as his seed begins spilling down your throat.

"Swallow, all of it."

You do as he asks and savor each drop. Your throat, freshly fucked raw, greedily takes his cum. His cock throbs inside you.

Once satisfied, he pulls out of you. Your jaw hurts and misses his absence. He lets out a huff.

"Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully okay? I expect you to be in my office after your shift every week, without panties, ready for me to fuck the life out of you. Understand?"

You nod. Feeling happy and full of him, you finally got what you wanted.

[plasticflwrs]

⠀⠀   ⠀┈─ ANATOMY ⠀⠀／ ⠀⠀ an oliver song story ( 2020 ).

It's just anatomy and you're only half of me, but still, you don't know me at all. You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me? Guess I meant less than I thought. — Anatomy, Kenzie.

WORD COUNT. 4.1k words. WARNINGS / NOTES. this is a very heavy piece. not only does it deal with the death of oliver's father, which was an overdose. please let me know if you need a summary and stay safe! other mentions include alcohol and substance abuse, cigarettes, suicidal ideation, fighting, crying, family problems. please let me know if i missed anything. most of this was written in 2023 as apart of a longer piece but due to timeline issues, they've been split and added to.

MARCH 1, 2019 ... 09:29 KST — SUPERBLOOM MEDIA HEADQUARTERS.

Oliver swears he will never forget that last phone call. As the phone rang, he considered letting it go to voicemail to avoid whatever spiral his father was falling down and calling him later in the day, when Oliver knew that he would be asleep. It was morning in Seoul, which meant in Boston, it was the previous night and that was when his father got bad. Something about the loneliness and paranoia his mother tried to justify. After seeing Minghui’s glance in his direction, Oliver stepped out of the room as the call connected.

His hand trembled slightly as he held the phone to his ear. It had been months since their last attempt at a conversation and each call was bringing up that childhood anger Oliver could never truly let go of. He wanted to confront his father, tell him everything he had done wrong in Oliver’s life, but the words always died on his tongue and left him feeling cowardly. His heart pounded in his chest, waiting for his father to finally say something.

Finally, a familiar voice cleared his throat through the line, thick with emotions Oliver couldn’t place. “Oliver, my boy!” the voice sounded joyful, but he knew that it wouldn’t last very long. “How are you?”

“I’m—uh—I’m good,” he struggles with the words, pulling at the belt loop of his favorite pair of jeans. “Been a bit busy lately with album preparation, nothing out of the ordinary…”  He trails off, not knowing what exactly to say in the moment. Oliver had rehearsed the moment in his head so many times and each time, he would win but real life was a different story. He hated the sound of his father’s yelling and often ended the call prematurely just to end it. “Any reason that you called?”

“Can’t a father call his favorite son?” Thomas asked, laughing to himself. “Don’t tell Liam that, promise?”

“Um, yeah, of course,” Oliver tries to match his tone, but it just falls completely flat. 

“What? Still scared of calling your dad?” 

Without thinking, Oliver blurts out, “just scared that you’re calling for money.” That wasn’t the right thing to say and he knows it. His heartbeat literally stutters as he waits for an answer and he feels like he’s about to pass out right then and there. 

"What was that, Oli?" his father finally said, his tone guarded, completely shifting from how he had greeted Oliver.

“I mean—that’s why you called right?” There was no going back now, Oliver needed to get this off of his chest and move on from whatever nightmares his father caused. There was no reason to be almost eighteen years old and still scared of his father’s temper and phone calls. “To ask me money for drugs and when I say no, you’ll just remind me that I’m worthless and mean absolutely nothing to you?”

Another pause, longer this time, filled with a heavy silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Oliver," his father replied, his voice low and defensive. "I’ve never done that before."

But Oliver wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. Years of pent-up frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface, fueling his resolve to speak his truth, no matter the consequences.

"No, Dad,” he spits out the word, as if it was choking him. “That's not a good enough excuse anymore." Oliver said, his voice rising as he hopes that no employees find him in this hallway, shouting at his father. "It’s always been about you and your issues. You were always too busy with your own problems, too wrapped up in your own life to care about mine. What about me, huh? Wanna heart about my problems? How much of my life you’ve ruined?"

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, followed by a tense silence that seemed to hang between them like a heavy fog. This is probably the longest he’s ever spoken to his father in a very long time. Time almost moves slowly as he waits for his father to reply, hopefully something just as mena so Oliver doesn’t feel as nasty about this conversation. 

“You think you're so perfect, don't you?” his father spat, his voice dripping with disdain and anger. “Well, newsflash, son – you're not. You're just like me, a failure, a disappointment.”

“I'm not like you,” Oliver snaps back, holding his ground for once though his eyes start to water against his wishes. He had been doing so well, holding back those tears. Thomas is going to know that he’s crying and it will only feel his rage further. “I refuse to let myself become the person you want me to be. I deserve better than that, we both do.”

“You'll never be good enough, Oliver,” his father said, his voice filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. “This whole music thing—it’s gonna collapse under you and you’re gonna be just like me. You don’t think Mom tells me everything? I know that you’ve been drinking… how did she put it? Excessively to fit into your little band of friends and the losers you hang out with. You’re not even of age… you’re just as bad as me.”

“God, you’re such a hypocrite!” 

Oliver can’t find it in himself to say anymore, his mind is racing too fast for any thought to come through coherently. The silence that passes between them is tense, only broken by his father chuckling on the other side of the line. 

“C’mon, Oli… you wanted a fight, why are you giving up now? Scared I’m gonna win?” his father taunts and he can see the sick smile on his face clearly. 

He shakes his head and tries to recenter himself, but its too hard. All of his emotions are hitting him like a truck, though anxiety seems to be winning. “No, I don’t wanna fight with a drug addict. I’m not stooping that low.”

With that, he hangs up the phone without a second thought. His father calls back for the rest of the day, leaving voicemails that switch between anger and sadness within mere minutes. Thomas apologizes in one voicemail, but the next is yelling about how awful of a son Oliver is. When his bandmates ask about it, it makes him feel embarrassed and he ends up blocking the number to end the onslaught of texts and phone calls coming from Boston. 

He feels guilty about it from the moment he hits the button, but its for the best. 

Sadly though, Oliver would never get the chance to talk to his father again. 

DECEMBER 11, 2020 … 22:20 KST — CHEEKY'S BAR AND LIVE MUSIC.

Oliver feels invincible when he walks onto the stage, however, when the lights stop focusing on him and he has to return to reality, everything gets bad again.

There was no other way to describe it—things were just bad for Oliver Song, as they had been for months now. On stage, He can feel his heart beating in his chest, the sweat from both running around the bar and the lights directly on him, constantly feeling out of breath. He also realizes that the alcohol in his system has something to do with it as he trips over his feet and the growing headache from each sweet drink he tosses back.

They are scheduled to perform until midnight and he wishes that it could go on longer. They were the best act that Cheeky’s had, but their closing spot had been given to some up-and-coming losers from Busan trying to make it big. He didn’t like them. The lead singer, Haemin, had given him a nasty look the first time they had met and since then, Oliver never wanted to see the members of Fender again. As he trips over the staircase leading to the stage, laughing as Jiyeon attempts to steady him, a staff member says that his manager needs to talk to him.

He frowns at Garam from across the room, who is giving some sort of direction to her army of minions, and doesn’t meet Oliver’s gaze. Deurim pats him on the back and assures him that things will be fine. If he’s not back in time, the band will just play some requests that didn’t involve him. He tries to smile at the reassurance, thanking her, and Oliver walks over to his manager. In a weird change of pace, he’s handed his phone, a black Apple product with a shitty case that barely keeps it from cracking each time it falls from his hands. He gives Garam a weird look and she says, “I’ve gotten six missed calls from your mother. I think you need to call her.”

“I’m sorry?” he asks, the sound of rock music still playing in their absence and screaming from the audience makes it harder for him to understand what she is saying. And the alcohol, of course.

Garam sighs, bringing him away from the stage and back into the green room with an annoyed look, dark brown eyebrows furrowed together. “I said that your family called me and you need to call them back. They can’t keep blowing up my phone because you don’t want to answer.”

At that moment, Oliver is reminded of why he never really liked Garam. While she put on that caring front and seemed to enjoy her job, there was always some bitterness behind her words and she hated having to take care of their career. She wanted an easy way into the talent industry but Oliver, having heard her singing in the rides back to their apartment, knew that she would never make it as a singer. Actress, maybe, but not a singer. He exhales, carefully, not wanting to set off his temper.

“I’ve been on stage for the last three hours. Fucking sue me or something,” he hisses back at Garam and takes his phone from her hand. Her eyebrows raise as if surprised that he could even fight back. “Tell Salem she can do whatever. Just don’t play the new track or I’ll be pissed.”

“Whatever, Oliver,” Garam says and leaves the room, slamming the door behind her. He tried not to flinch at such a loud noise, showing that it startled him, but was glad her back was turned away.

 That’s when the good feelings associated with adrenaline and being on stage start to sour. A cramp in his side that Oliver had never felt before fucking hurts and he can feel his throat begin to close around itself. He can only imagine what’s going on the other side of the world as he stands in Seoul, alone, facing yet another challenge that may be his final straw. He clears his throat and takes a long sip of the water bottle on the makeup vanity next to him. He stares at himself in the mirror, as if that would sober him up.

Ten phone calls from his mother and older sister.

Nothing new, he supposed, but it was never a good sign when they called him more than twice in a single period of twenty-four hours. They tried to respect his time and the time change, but some things were too important to allow Oliver to shut out the world around him.

He hits the first notification with a trembling hand and brings it to his ear. “Mom,” he tries to sound hopeful for her, pulling a small smile even though she can’t see him in the hopes of making her feel better. “Hey, is everything doing okay over there?”

“Oliver,” Mom sighs in relief and he can hear Ivy in the background, annoyed that he didn’t pick up earlier. “Where are you?”

“The bar? We always play on the weekend,” he responds. It was Friday night, which always drew in the best crowd for Plastic Flowers as people were desperate for a drink and good music after the long work week. He couldn’t blame them and was always glad he never worked a regular job. Making his schedule was the only perk of music.

“I need you to sit down, okay?” she says and Oliver does as she says, sitting in the armchair that was next to the door. It was where Junyeong always sat when they came, but, Oliver didn’t care at that moment. “It’s about your father… He’s been in the hospital for the last three nights after an accidental overdose of alcohol. We, uh, had to cut the life support a few hours ago.” The phone made it hard to tell, but he knew that his mother was crying. He hears her sniffle and presses harshly against his skin, as if wiping away the tears, before letting her arms fall harshly against her side.

That’s when the static takes over.

Oliver can feel his mind racing, imagining every single scenario that could have happened to his father. Thomas Song was never… right. He came from a rough home life, served in an active military campaign, and never really recovered from anything that happened to him. He was just like his paternal grandfather—a loser. There was no fight in either of those men as they drowned themselves away in any substance they could get their hands on.

She continues, stammering with each word and trying to remain strong for her children. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t say goodbye. You guys weren’t close but I know you would have wanted to be there… Ivy and I didn’t want him to be in any more pain. Keeping him alive was only making it worse for him.”

Oliver’s parents never married due to his addiction issues. They went through phases of trying to portray a happy family to the world, but those that knew them well knew it was all an act. At least once a year, Oliver would be told his father was taking a “business trip” for a few months and would call him once he got the chance. As he got older, Oliver realized that it was just code for going back into a rehab program and trying to get clean for the next few months. It was always that exact cycle—get clean, move back into their apartment, start drinking again, Kathleen kicks him out, and then it starts again.

At a eleven years old, Thomas Song lost complete custody of his children and was forced into supervised visits by the state after he had hurt Liam. He claimed it was an accident, but Oliver was never sure since he had been with his mother at the time. After a few visits, it all just stopped. He got phone calls and promises of Christmas visits, but they never came. He learned to stop expecting anything from Thomas Song.

Oliver, however, knew that he was never coming back to them and he had made every member of his family cry too many times to ask for forgiveness. They had each given him so many chances and he refused to take them, promising that he’ll come back once he gets better. He never got better. 

Things only got worse as Oliver got many drunk calls and text messages begging for money. It ramped up as his fame increased and suddenly, his father was accusing him of awful things and he was forced to deal with it because his father was ‘sick’ in the eyes of everyone else around him. He was called a ‘worthless son’ for not giving him money for whatever substance he was hooked on at that moment and demanded that Oliver take some responsibility in ruining his life. Whatever that fucking meant. Thankfully, Oliver was never forced to give him the money but, he was still left with these awful voicemails until Oliver had to block his number on his eighteenth birthday.

It seemed karma had finally caught up to Thomas Song.

“Yeah, I’ve been telling you that for news now,” Oliver interrupts, using the sleeve of his sweater to dry his eyes with an annoyed sigh, waiting for her lecture.

“C’mon, love. You know he tried his best to get better,” she sighs and even over the phone he can see her annoyed expression. “Addiction is a disease. It changed how his brain worked from such a young age and he’s been struggling ever since then. He made progress but something would always trigger him back into that state. He couldn’t help it. But, your feelings about him are also fair. I just want you to remember him as a good person, not the man he was in the last few years.”

Hearing her defend his father makes any sadness Oliver had turn into annoyance. If anyone should be angry about his selfishness it's his mother. He had cheated on Kathleen multiple times and Oliver knew he had random step-siblings all across the country. He wanted nothing to do with them and while Ivy enjoyed playing happy family with them, he was content with never even knowing their names. He only knew of one—Grayson—who had tried to direct message Oliver after seeing an advertisement for Plastic Flowers on Youtube. Oliver never replied, but he still check Grayson’s Instagram often, seeing pictures of him and Thomas Song smiling like a happy family. They shouldn’t even exist, especially the one born just a few months before Liam. It made him feel sick to even think about her.

His father was not a good person no matter how much his mother attempted to convince him. He was happy to leave his children with nothing and screw up anything he could. There was no love in that man, only the need to make himself happy. It was all about Thomas Song, there was nothing anyone else could do about it.

“It’s not fair, though,” he retorts. “Dad can hurt me for almost two decades straight and just get away with it because he was an addict?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Oliver. I just want you to picture his side of the story for a second. He had a rough life and this was the only way he could cope with it all. It sucks, I get that, but it’s not fair to him to write off how much of a good person he was. You see the situation in such a different light and that’s okay.”

“Except he wasn’t!” Oliver exclaims. “If he were a good person, he would have chosen us and at least tried to make an effort. Instead, he was fucking other women all across the United States and calling me for some extra money!”

She sniffles on the other side and Oliver immediately feels bad. He hates upsetting his mother. “He did try, though. He didn’t want you three to see him at his lowest and was about to get into another rehab program. He wanted to try this time.”

“Well, it’s too late now.”

“I know that,” she sighs again. “I don’t want to fight about this any longer, though. I know he wouldn’t want a funeral but did you want to come to the celebration of life? We can plan around your schedule or I’m sure such circumstances would allow you to come home.”

“No. I don’t want to celebrate with him. Don’t worry about me being there,” Oliver scoffed, waving away whoever was coming to check on him.

His mother responded easily, “And that’s fine. I’ll keep some things for you. I’m sorry for taking so much of your time, Oliver, but don’t hesitate to call me, alright? I’ll always be here for you. These next few days will be rough, even with your poor relationship and it’s okay to feel upset about him and what happened. Just… keep me in the loop. Please?”

“I will,” he lies through his teeth.

He was going to deal with this on his own. 

Just like everything else going on in Oliver’s life.

The call ends with both of them saying that they love each other and promising to call another day, when they had let the anger go. Oliver stays in his place for a moment. He was fine, there was nothing to worry about right now. He had been feeling good this entire night and of course, his father had to ruin yet another thing.

He hates Thomas Song and honestly hopes that he rots in whatever hell he gets to.

On his walk inside of the building, he passes their personal belongings and Oliver grabs the package of menthol cigarettes from Salem’s jacket pocket and makes a mental note to buy her a new one tomorrow. He’s going to need this package for the next few days. With the package in hand, he goes right back outside, glaring at the team member who tried to usher him back onto the stage.

 His trembling hands clutch a pack of cigarettes, and his fingers nervously tap against the cardboard. The cold fall air hits him instantly and he remembers those September mornings walking to school with his father and falls against the wall behind him with a sob.

The weight of the news he received just a few minutes ago, that his father has passed away, weighs heavily on him alongside the rest of his problems. His breath is ragged as each inhale and exhale grounds him further to the news and weeks of anxiety come back to him. He raises a cigarette to his lips, and the flame from his lighter quivers as he tries to ignite it. His hands shake uncontrollably, and it takes several attempts before the tip of the cigarette catches fire. He inhales deeply; a long, trembling drag.

Maybe this wasn’t worth it anymore. Oliver leans his head against the bricks, much harder than he intended, and doesn’t even flinch. That awful voice in the back of his mind tells him that he deserves it, deserves to feel the same pain that he caused everyone else for his selfishness. He almost calls his mom back, to apologize, but knows that she’ll be better without him anyway. Ivy and Liam could talk about his place in family photos and they would stop thinking that he was their mother’s favorite. They didn’t need him anymore.

No one needed him.

The smoke fills his lungs, and he exhales slowly, releasing a cloud of despair into the room. Tears glisten in his eyes as he stares blankly at the many couples walking around the dark streets of Gangnam. He knows that if any of them notice and recognize him, the company deals with it so he remains where he stands. He takes another drag, each inhalation a futile attempt to drown out the pain. The cigarette burns steadily, casting shadows on his tear-stained face.

There was a bottle of acetaminophen in his shared bathroom with Junyeong. Completely unopened and he knew it was cowardly to go out. Peacefully, in his sleep, waiting for someone to notice and completely change the trajectory of their career. He wondered how they would react if the others would even feel sad that he was gone. Shaking his head, Oliver burns his hand with the cigarette for an immediate change in focus. It’s not held there long, just enough to hold the light and cause just enough pain, leaving a mark on his left wrist.

At that moment, the world felt so small. Having ruined his relationships with everyone around him, it’s just Oliver, his cigarette, and thoughts against the world. A dangerous combination with two of those forces ready to kill him at any moment.

As the minutes pass, the cigarette turns to ash, and Oliver lets it fall to the floor, forgotten.

He pulls the door open, plasters a fake smile on his face, and goes back on stage like nothing even happened. The fans welcome him with a resounding cheer. Maybe this is why he did it—the attention. Salem gives him a confused glance as he walks back out, he knows it's obvious that he has been crying and instead smiles back, shaking his head. She nods, though he knows that she’s going to try to get some information out of him later. At least she still cared about him.

He loves the feeling of the spotlight directly pointing at him and clutches the microphone so tight that his hands begin to turn white.

[liyuee-qixing]

Promises

Synopsis: he once promise they will stay by your side till the day you both die,It seem like it was just empty headed nonsense.

Cw:In the verge of breaking up, Misunderstanding,Mention of violent,reader is Elf

Character: Scaramouche

Genre:Angst to comfort

Scaramouche

You know him all too well,like your own backhand,he would never come home smiling except if a big event is happening,He would kiss you in cheeks before he goes to bed,He never did now. He always bought gift,But it never for you now. You suspect him of cheating when you saw multiple kiss mark on his neck,He tried to hide it by his turtle neck shirt,but still leave few mark to be showen,you don't understand. After all these years you've manage to get in to his heart he start seeing someone else that easily.

Was those years all fake memory? Was that only a mere joke for him? He felt betrayal before he shouldn't have betrayed you! The more you think about it the more it's hurt you heart,One day you had enough of his behaviors and try to confront him about it softly

"hey.. are you seeing somebody else?"you hesitantly ask him,His attention went out to your question of course,Ha! Him!?

"you dare to accuse me about something like that? The audacity!"he scoffed,for once you wish he could be serious.

"even if I did,you shouldn't have pry my business to me, worthless creatures like you deserve no place besides a god like me, It's only is natural if I start seeing somebody better than you"he continues,every single heart break your heart,It clench everytime he talk. We're you really nothing to him?

"so.. what am I to you?are these year where I support you a mere friendship? I'm your first follower,I followed you from the day katsuragi found you till this day you've almost become a god!"you defended yourself,Making a point,Yet he gave you mocking face. With his tongue out

"yeah,I never see you as my lover,I see you as a mere follower,A disturbance"he admitted. A tears almost leave your eyes,you grit your teeth in agony,Right, he's the mighty harbinger,how come you didn't notice it?

"Haha! I got you didn't I? You should see your face when you facade in fear!"he Surprised you, Bursting in laugh as he hold his stomach,still laughing his ass off, It's not funny. it was never to you,you never liked to be treated like a joke,it hurt you whenever he never take things seriously

"it's - it's not funny! So you think my loyalty is a joke!? You don't understand how much your words hurt me nor do you understand my disappointment"a tear leave the corner of your eyes,passing down ur nose

"geez, it's just a prank you snowflake,no need to get overreacted"he snort as he roll his eyes in disbelief and boredom

"Yeah, right. How dumb of me to not understand that you're just a puppet,you could never understand my feelings"your sentence hurt him,it hurt him whenever he reminded he's just a puppet,but it hurt him more whenever a tears left your eyes or whenever you run crying and rubbing you eyes,it hurt him when the cause of your pain is always him, Whenever you shed tears it must be because of him. Now once again he saw tears leave your eye followed by a door being slapped.

"hey y/n,open the door! Or I'm going to open it with force!"he catch up to you, trying to open your both shared room door,fuck. It's have been locked

"ugh! This is useless!"he opened the door with the help of his anemo power,He saw you curling up in a ball,face shredded in tears,but accepting his appearance,you have to act though. Except you couldn't.

"Go away if I'm so useless for you! I'll pack my things and go"you shouted, chocked on a sob once or twice,but scaramouche just come closer to you, sitting down beside you

"no! You misunderstood,I don't mean to call you useless, I'm not serious about anything about what I said,I'm not serious when I told you to leave-"he tries to explain it,But as he observe more,More tears are falling off your face,if he has the chance to,he would take all the things he said about you,he would undo the prank if he know it'll end up like this

"but it's fucking hurt, Scara! You don't understand how and why I feel this why don't you!? All you know is that it's just a joke and in being a snowflake!"you cutter his word with the truth you felt,a tears slipped to the already wet bed,ugh. Now you got no where to sleep

"Your ego hurt me so much,wonder why I even stayed"you continue,Your last sentence hurt him over anything else,the thought of you leaving because of him haunt him,he would never find a lover that'll replace you,He would never find somebody as loyal as you.

"hey.. I'm sorry,I'm sorry these words leave my mouth,I never have the intention to hurt you,Nor do I have the intention to make you leave. It started from a little dare at the fatui- I should've been careful with my action"he apologize at the thought of it,Over and over again,It cringe him he has to beg but what he wouldn't do for you anyway? Even if he has to bring the world down on his knees and worship the floor you walk on then he'll do it

"please don't be my fourth betrayal.. I promise you it won't happen Again,I promise you I will never take you as a joke again"he promised with a pitiful frown on his face,he don't want it all to end,he still gotta have a happy long lasting life with you

"..promise?"you quietly said, bringing your pinky finger out,Making a sign of promises

"yes,Promise"he link his pinky with your,tugging your hair behind your pointy elf ear he kissed you once again. The next day he make sure everything went good.