#i wrote this post like so long ago i was filled with bitterness

[ghcstao3]

soap but he’s a honeypot and ghost is his lookout send tweet

ohohohoh i like this (also sorry this is so late, i feel like i’ve been so one-track minded lately. and i wrote most of this with a concerning amount of cold medicine in my system so) warning for lots of ghost pining

-

It’s a mission just a bit unlike any other.

Sure, they’ve all taken their turns offering themselves up as bait to the enemy, but not like this.

Ghost doesn’t like the mission one bit. And he knows exactly why—but he’ll choose to blame it on anything else. Like the fact that his lookout post is within the facility, a crowded club, and not some high perch where he gets to peer through the scope of his rifle, where he feels most at home.

He chooses to blame his unease on that fact, and not at all because Soap is currently posed to be seducing their target.

Ghost remembers how he felt watching Soap getting brought to his knees and a bag over his head what felt like ages ago, their first time working together—yet somehow watching from the balcony, seeing the sergeant’s easy smile as he sidles up to the target and looking entirely within his element, it feels worse.

It’s harder convincing himself it’s not jealousy curling in his gut.

“Hey, handsome.”

Even amidst static, bass-filled music, and loud chatter, Ghost could close his eyes and pretend the low, Scottish drawl of those two words was meant for him.

But he can’t close his eyes, because he’s working, goddamnit—and besides, those words aren’t for him. Probably wouldn’t ever be.

Ghost tunes out of most of the conversation that follows, only keeping an ear out for the code word to initiate Soap’s extraction. But seeing as Soap and the target have just begun talking, it’d be a while yet before Ghost could escape this hell.

God, he hates this.

The purr of Soap’s voice is so difficult to ignore, right in his ear, even as the man in question is at a bar what feels like miles away.

Ghost has been tortured, but being forced to watch Soap put his hand on another man’s thigh is the only thing that would get Ghost to give up anything if only it could be him instead.

It’s almost painful. It is pathetic.

Especially when he nearly loses eyes on Soap while caught up in his moping, as the sergeant is escorted away by their target, who is unknowingly leading himself directly to where the operation wants him to be.

Ghost watches with an intensity that's even startling to himself as Soap is eventually pulled into one of the club's private rooms. He could vomit, listening to the ministrations and sweet nothings exchanged behind a closed door.

He prays for the signal. A confession, an arrest, an end to the mission. A reprieve, freedom.

Some fresh fucking air. Ghost thinks the scent of alcohol and sweat is getting to him.

Or is making things worse, at the very least.

Ghost barely registers when the code word is said into comms. He acts with a readiness and efficiency formed of scavenged professionalism and an overwhelming bitter jealousy that has Soap's look of triumph briefly replaced by surprise when they're finally reunited.

The lieutenant tries his best not to think about the tight fit of Soap's civvies as they work side by side to immobilize and extract the target.

If Ghost is extra rough, then that's no one's business.

And when all is said and done, it takes an enormous amount of strength not to spill his guts right then and there about how that night made him feel.

Though he's not certain he does a great job of keeping it all in. Not when Soap bumps their shoulders and cheekily asks, "Reckon they'd let me do a mission like that again, LT?"

And Ghost can do nothing but scowl and tell him, "Absolutely not."

Because he reckons this mission will remain unlike any others, so long as he can help it.

So long as it's not him that Soap is lending his attention to.

[fallinforerling]

LOVE ISN’T ETERNAL. chapter 4 - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist  

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The weekend arrived without any nasty surprises, which was very much appreciated. Jobe was still a bit bitter towards Jude for all the lies he told the family, but you convinced him to not pick any fights with his brother. Jude didn't deserve it, but you still cared about his family dynamic staying the same regardless of how he managed the breakup and everything that came after it.

Now you were laying in bed, not having the energy to do much. It's not like you were allowing yourself to be consumed by the grief or sadness (which you still felt), but you were a bit apathetic. Luckily, Nikki and Mia were coming over to help you with that. 

“I want this to end.” You whispered after a while, wanting to say something to fill up the silence in your apartment.

Because you truly wanted to get over him. Why bother grieving him? He has been partying and probably sleeping with girls every night since his arrival to London. And what were you doing? Missing him? Wishing he’d call? Having insomnia?

“Fucking prick.” At least insulting him was good therapy.

Before you could enter the space of mind where all you did was hate him and his existence, your phone started to ring. The only connection to the outside world this past week and a half was that little device.

Nikki was calling.

“Yeah?”

“Check my chat, girl. This is fucking insane. Go! We're almost there!” And then she hung up.

“What's up with Nikk and hanging up after saying things like that?” You laughed, expecting something funny or a photo of them. But no, it was a Twitter thread. When you clicked it, you almost had a heart attack.

“The fuck is this?!” You screamed.

The author of the thread simply wrote: “Jobe's new girlfriend???? I'm so jealous, who is sheeee???” followed with four photos per tweet. They were from the park meeting just a few days ago. There were photos of you hugging, when you were sitting together and when you started to leave the park.

At least it wasn't going viral, but there still were lots of people interacting with it. They were trying to guess who you were and for how long you two have been “dating”. A nightmare.

This had never happened in the ten months you dated Jude, mostly because privacy was important to him... And now you were mistaken for his little brother’s girlfriend? You felt like having a panic attack, but your front door opened and closed loudly, interrupting your thoughts. 

“Did you see it?” Mia said, entering your bedroom after a few seconds.

“How did you find it?”

“Oh, you know I love gossip. I was digging for some information and I came across it. Did you see the date? Someone posted it three days ago.” Nikki sat next to you, biting her lip.       

“Yeah…” Your brain started to analyze how it happened… Who took the photos without you noticing? The park was almost empty the whole time. Unless… “Fuck… I know who took those photos.” 

“Who?” Mia asked with apprehension. “Someone we know?” 

“No, far from it” With a sigh, you sat. “We met at a park near here. I've always liked that place because most of the time is empty… But that day I spotted a group of girls near us; I didn’t even payed them attention, they were far enough to not eavesdrop.” You covered your eyes, feeling frustrated. “They were teenagers, so of course they took the opportunity when they recognized him.” 

“Yikes, girl… Someone’s going to cancel you for dating a minor.” Nikki joked, winning a very small smile from Mia and you. 

“That’s not funny, my god.They probably will if they ever find who I am and my age.” You sighed, absolutely sick with the path your life was taking. “Why can’t I have one day of peace, huh? Life sucks.”

“Of course it sucks, that’s the main thing about living,” Mia said, sitting in your bed. “Well, let’s pray for that threat to die soon enough. You know how people are, they’re probably hunting for the next big gossip of the week.” 

“Yeah…” You grabbed your phone again, thinking about your next move. “I probably should send this to Jobe as well, I don’t want him to be taken by surprise if people begin asking about this.” A tiny smile peaked between your lips. “And let’s hope the girl he likes doesn’t find it either.”

“Do you know what else you need to start doing?” Nikki said while you send the link to Jobe, who started to laugh about the ridiculous assumption those girls made about you. 

“What?” You asked without paying much attention, smiling a bit when Jobe started to call himself Mr. Steal Your Girl. 

“Being a soulless, heartless, and cold girl for once. What about some clubbing, some fun… Some boys?” 

“You’re like the devil on her shoulder, Nikk,” Mia said, nudging Nikki’s arm. “But I agree, you need some fun. We forbid you from staying at home, drowning in your sadness. That boy doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Not one bit,” Nikki replied, hugging you. “I promise it will be super fun, just go out with us tonight.” 

Instead of responding, you took a look at the ground. There it is. You knew them too well, there was no way for them to “casually” suggest a night out; they had a plan. Their bags were on the floor, but you noticed a small bag that Nikki only took out of her house if she was planning to party: her makeup bag, which was essential if she was going out clubbing.

“Are you trying to persuade me into partying tonight?” You smiled, not even mad at the idea. 

“Maybe?” Both of them said, trying to look as innocent as possible. 

The three of you looked at each other with big smiles before laughing. 

“We’re going out tonight!” Mia screamed, gaining more laughs from Nikki and you. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The fun part about going out with Mia and Nikki was the part previous to the actual clubbing. There just was something magical about getting ready with them: the makeup with the collaboration of everybody, constantly changing outfits, Nikki persuading both of you to drink a little bit for good luck and Mia insisting that all of you needed smoky eyes, so guys felt intimidated. Most of it was nonsense, but they were your best friends in the whole world and you always felt extremely thankful for their support.

“Promise me you’re going to at least try dancing with the hottest guy that approaches you tonight.” Mia said while doing your smoky eyes (yeah, you gave in).

“I’ll try.” And you will because it wasn’t fair for you to stay in your comfort zone. If this whole thing didn’t cheer you up or make you feel better, then you could always find other ways to keep your mind occupied.

“That’s more than enough for me. Try to have fun, this is a girl’s night.” 

“And talking about girls. Put this dress on, the girls look stunning in it.” Nikki dropped a black dress on your lap. 

“No way!” You lifted it with a smile. “I completely forgot about this dress. I haven’t worn it since…” You paused, feeling uncomfortable. “Uh, Jude’s birthday.” 

“Well, who cares about that? You still look amazing.” Nikki smiled, obviously not about to let you think much about Jude. 

“Done!” Mia said after a few seconds, biting her lip. “This is my best work so far.” Her eyes were sparkling, so you believed her. 

Facing yourself in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize the face that was looking back at you. You looked amazing; the color of your eyes popped, the glitter was doing the right job of not making it look too dark and the red lipstick was the final touch. You loved it. 

“That’s the face of a heartbreaker, girl.” Nikki admired your face for an instant before smiling. “Ah, I can’t wait for the boys to fight over you.” 

“Very funny, Nikk.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The club Nikki choose was wild, especially since a manager was waiting for you at the door, guiding you to the balcony section of the club- which was the freaking VIP one.

“Nikk?” You half-screamed through the music, dying to know how she managed to pull this off. Mia seemed as confused as you were. “Anything you want to tell us?”

“About what?” She kept walking with the biggest of smiles.

“Uh… Us getting into the VIP section wiht no even five minutes of being here?”

“Oh, that?” Her smile grew bigger, if that was physically possible. “I know someone.”

Clearly, that was all the information you were getting. Mia gave you a look and the both of you silently decided that it was better if you didn’t dig into it.

“Tonight it’s about having fun, girls. My treat, don’t worry.” Nikki said once you were at the table, which already had a champagne bottle resting comfortably on an ice bucket. Three champagne glasses were next to it, patiently waiting for you. 

“Oh, so this is luxury, luxury.” Mia whispered, laughing a bit. 

“The fun it’s all that matters, trust me, Mia.” A waiter appeared out of nowhere, silently grabbing the bottle before smiling at all of you. 

“Welcome, ladies. May I open it now?” You nodded, and with one quick movement of his wrist, he had the job done. Impressive. “Hope you have a good night. Don’t forget you can always call a waiter with the button that’s underneath the table.” And then he was gone. 

“You were right, Mia. This is luxury luxury.” You accepted the glass Nikki offered you, excited for the night ahead. 

“Let’s enjoy it without actually wondering how much all this is, babe.” Was all she said before chugging her glass in one sitting. “I’m ready, give me another one.” 

“That’s what I’m talking about!" Nikki cheered, happy to see Mia engaged with tonight’s mission.                                                                                                     

“Come on, you need to chug that thing too, there’s more in here.” Nikki told you, already serving Mia’s second glass. 

“Fuck it.” You said before doing as Nikki said, chugging your champagne as carefully as possible so you didn’t choke. “If I end up vomiting all over the floor at the end of the night, I want you to know, I’m blaming you.” 

“That’s fine to me!” And then Nikki chugged her glass as well. 

Yeah, this night was going to be hella interesting.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Needless to say that within two hours of clubbing you were pretty drunk. Not to the point of falling when trying to walk because the world was spinning or to the verge of unconsciousness, but a good point between being able to not care if something ridiculous escaped your mouth and dancing with strangers without giving it a second thought. 

Nikki had found some friends along the night, and now three more people, which were the nicest ever, were sitting at your table, chatting and laughing along. You enjoyed the their company, but felt the need to give yourself space to drink a very much needed glass of water in peace. 

So there you were, leaning against one of the multiple spaces in the balcony where little chairs were dispersed. It felt almost peaceful if you ignored the music blasting through the speakers or the many waiters going around the place, dealing with drunks and orders. 

“No way! Is that you?” A voice startled you, taking your mind away from the blankness it was immersed in. “I knew I wasn’t mistaking that face!” 

You turned, slightly pissed at the person that was basically yelling at you, until you realized it was Gio. Gio Reyna himself. 

“Gio?!” You didn’t know why, but the excitement made you scream. Maybe it was because you were drunk, but seeing Gio was one of the highlights of the night. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“I’m taking the few days off I have.” He hugged you tightly once you stood up, almost swiping you from the floor. “You look amazing! What are you doing here?” 

“Thanks! I’m with my friends, they’re right there!” You pointed to the table, where all kept chatting without noticing your encounter. “It’s a girl’s night!” 

“That’s cool! I thought you were with Jude, since he’s at London and all that.” 

Your smile never wandered from your face, not caring about Jude’s name being dropped from Gio’s lips. You shook your head, letting him know you weren’t with him today. Or ever, for that matter. 

“Nope, just my girls and I.” He kept looking at you like he was in front of a new person, not Jude’s ��girlfriend”. You didn’t know if you liked it or felt bad about it. He was one of Jude’s good friends after all. “What about taking a picture? It’s been so long since we saw each other.” 

“Sure! Are you okay if I post it to IG?” 

Oh?

“Of course, go for it.” 

Then the two of you moved to a more illuminated area, he took his phone and you knew this was one of a kind type of opportunity. Time to be the pettiest bitch I know. Taking advantage of him getting closer to you for the sake of the photo, you passed one arm over his shoulders, and after a couple of pics, you decided to give him a tiny peck on the cheek. 

“Let's see.” He said shyly. Aw.

A few of them were blurry, but most were decent and the peck one was fabulous, not only for the sake of your intentions, but also because of how good the two of you looked. Your makeup was still intact, and with the lighting, it shined in a very pretty way. Gio had a light blush due to the alcohol, his smile being evident, giving his already handsome face something else. 

“That one?” You said, picking the one you liked the most. 

“Yeah! We look amazing.” He started to set it but paused before publishing it. “Do you mind if I tag you?” 

Bingo. 

“Go ahead, I have no problem.” And that was it. 

You said your goodbyes, and while returning to the table, you felt some type of triumph. Did this make you a bad person? 

“Where were you? We thought you got lost or something.” Mia said when you finally arrived, sitting beside Nikki. 

“So… I did a thing…”

[nnaminxz]

“𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝕲𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖘 𝕯𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝕮𝖗𝖞“

↳ 𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔲 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔬

⤑ 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut & angst

⤑ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: if the saying is “misery loves company” why isn’t Suguru happy right now?

⤑ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰: Gojo Satoru slander I’m sorry but I had too, I love him very much tho, sad feelings, sad reader, suguru is kind of ass too, maybe a lil ooc but it’s fanfic so don’t attack me, vaginal sex, riding, the ending may be dumb but it’s whatever, minors dni

⤑ 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: I wrote this for an another fandom a WHILE ago and always wanted to redo it so I thought why not redo it for my first jjk fic. I hope you guys enjoy this is my first time posting for this fandom so I’m vv nervous/excited. Pls be kind

Suguru always thought this would make him happy.

Seeing you around campus with Satoru made him angry enough, so he just knew that when the inevitable happened and Satoru started acting like well—Satoru again the sight was guaranteed to bring much happiness to his heart.

He knew it was sick, that he wanted to see whatever you and Satoru had going on fail but Suguru couldn't help it.

None of it mattered though because it didn’t happen.

Suguru sat in the same place for two hours watching the two of you—waiting for the feeling of bitter happiness to fill his bones but it never came.

In fact, it was the exact opposite.

Watching you fight to get Satoru’s attention made him sad. Seeing how no matter what you did he would rather pay more attention to everyone else made Suguru angry. And watching you finally leave the room and the other boy not even bat an eye made him furious.

If he was truly surprised or even thought the other boy would care, Suguru would’ve went over to him and said something but it wasn’t worth it. Satoru was just like him.

An idiot.

A dumbass.

They couldn’t tell when they had a good thing even if it’d slapped them across the face.

“Where you going?” Haibara questions as Suguru stands to his feet.

“Need a smoke,”

“Ah,” The other boy nodded his head. “Are you having fun?”

Suguru decides to lie again. The happiness on his friends face to pure to ruin with his sour mood.

“I told you coming out tonight would be a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Suguru fakes a grin. “I’ll be back.” He took the pack of cigarettes out his pocket waving them before walking away.

Suguru easily maneuvers his way through the thick crowd until he was standing on the back porch. The screen door shut with a thud causing you to swiftly snap around. There was a hopeful and expectant look on your face but when you saw it was him all that fell as you turned back around.

“Well, hello to you too,” Suguru jokes trying to hide the actual physical pain he was feeling in his heart.

That used to be him you were so eager to see.

“What do you want?” You huffed softly.

“Needed a smoke.”

The way you turned to look at him with such concern almost made Suguru laugh. Here you were angry at him, going through your own shit, and still somehow harbored enough care to be concerned with his health.

“I though you quit?”

Suguru plops down next to you pulling the carton out his pocket flipping the cap open. “I did.” He says showing you the empty pack..

“You carry around an empty pack?”

“It’s a good way for me to make an exit,”

You left out a long sigh. “I looked that pitiful huh?”

“You don’t look pitiful. He just looks stupid.”

Though you didn’t say anything back you didn’t need to for Suguru to already know what you were thinking. He knew you like the back of his hand and no doubt you were beating yourself up, angry with yourself when in reality you should’ve been focused on the one who deserved it.

“I’m so stupid,” You whisper and its so low that it Suguru wasn’t already so hyper-focused on your very existence he would’ve probably missed it.

“No, you’re not.”

“You told me he was like this.”

“People told you about me and you still gave me a chance,”

“So I am stupid.”

“You’re trusting,” Suguru counters. “You give people the benefit of the doubt.”

“why is it that trusting people always end up looking stupid?”

“because others take advantage of it.”

Something he knew all to well.

You both fall silent again. The only noise filling the space are the sounds of nature and the muffled thumping music that escaped the noisy house. Suguru looks over at you wishing there was something he could to do. Something he could say. Seeing you like this hurt him.

He hated seeing you cry.

He felt like dying when you were upset.

But it also hurt to see you happy so Suguru wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.

All this shit was so weird. An uncharted territory before you came along.

Every time the screen door would creak open you’d twist around to see if it was him and every time you ended up turning back around in disappointment. As your disappointment grew, so did Suguru’s anger.

You only deserved the best things in life. None of this push and pull, ‘I’m here but around others I’m not’ bullshit.

Suguru was such a hypocrite.

Here he was furious with Satoru when he used to just as much of an asshole to you as well. He too would push and pull right until he pushed you away completely.

“I’m sorry,” He quietly apologizes. If he’d just gotten his act together sooner there would be no you and Satoru. You wouldn’t be sad and he would still have you.

You shake your head softly shushing him. “Not right now please,” You say. “Can you take me home? I just really want to go back home.”

Without saying anything else Suguru nodded. As both of  you were walking to his car you passed a big window. Sadly it was a clear shot to Satoru who now had another girl seated next to him in your place.

Not only had he not noticed your absence but that easily he’d replaced you.

“He’s such a fucking ass.”

“Yeah,” You agree. “Let’s just go,”

Suguru had evert urge to go in there and go off but when he looked back over you were already halfway to his car so he kept it moving. Satoru wasn’t worth it anyway. He was just another dick who thought way too much of himself.

Satoru didn’t deserve you.

Neither did Suguru.

One in the car Suguru sent Haibara a quick message saying he was going home before shifting the car into gear.

As expected the drive was silent. There wasn’t much to say. As much as Suguru wanted to comfort you he didn’t know what to do even if he did you probably wouldn’t want to hear it from him. Why would you?

Suguru knew every route to and from your apartment but decided to take the longest one. If you noticed you didn’t say anything. All you did was keep quiet as you looked out the window.

You stayed that way until he pulled up to you complex. Before getting out of the car you whisper as soft thank you and force a smile.

“yeah, no problem,” Suguru murmurs.

He’s about to pull away when out the corner of his eye he spots your small tube of lip gloss sitting in his cup holder. You had a million of them and even thought you probably wouldn’t even realize this one was missing Suguru still found himself on a journey to your front door.

Who know this could’ve been your favorite one.

The one in the pink tube was your favorite actually.

But Suguru already knew that.

“You left this,” Suguru says once you open the door.

“Thanks,” You mutter grabbing it from his hand. “I have a million in this flavor.”

“I know.”

For the first time tonight a genuine smile filled your lips. It was small and not the one he was used to seeing but for right now it would do. It was better than nothing.

Though your eyes were sad and bloodshot you were still as beautiful as ever to him.

“Please don’t cry over him. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“I just want something real,” You say in a small voice your arms wrapping around your body.

“What we had was real.”

“You were just like him.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Suguru adds, his voice wavering as he tries to get out the words. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” you say this time.

Suguru is walking away when you call out his name. As soon as he turns back around your lips are on his. He’s shocked for a moment, standing there with wide eyes, but quickly he fall back into your old routine. His heart is pounding so hard against his chest and Suguru wonder if you could feel it as well.

With every kiss he pulls you closer to him. It’s been months since he’d last had you this close and Suguru didn’t want it to end any time soon. He missed this, the soft breaths that escape you, the fruity taste of your lip gloss, the way your hands cradle his face.

Slowly your hands roam from his face to his jacket and then finally when they land on his belt Suguru forces himself to pull away.

Suguru lets out a sigh resting his forehead against yours. “We can’t.” He mutters.

He wanted you but not this way. Not when you were like this.

“Why?”

“You’re….” his voice trails off.

“I’m sober,”

“You’re sad.” He counters.

You give him a shrug. “ I want this. I need this.”

Suguru knows what this was. A rebound fuck. Simply a way for you to get back at Satoru in your mind but couldn’t bring himself to care as he kisses you again. He knows this was going to hurt in the morning but he’d deal with that when it came.

A satisfied moan leaves your lips. “Please,” You beg and Suguru nods, not even needing to know what exactly you were asking for because he already was prepared to give you everything.

Reaching behind him Suguru pushed the front door closed. “Where?” Without saying anything you guided him both over to the couch lightly pushing him down before climbing on top.

You pulled off your dress and without a second thought, Suguru hands find their way to your breast, lifting the mounds out of the cups. His tongue gently swipes over both nipples before picking one to suck on while he twisted the other between his fingers.

“Fuck,” Soft moans escape your plump lips as you arch further into him. “It’s always about him.”

Suguru pulls away for a brief moment and shushes you before taking in the other nipple. He didn’t want to hear about you and Satoru. The thoughts tortured him enough. 

It did bring him a sick satisfaction to know that Satoru was a lazy lover.

“M’sorry,”

“Don’t be. This is just about us right now.”

You nod, pressing your fingers underneath Suguru’s chin as lift up his head so you could kiss him again. Suguru’s hands were everywhere. From your ass to your stomach, your thighs, he couldn’t get enough.

“Touch me,” You command.

Suguru happily listens, his fingers easily finding their way into your panties. You were already so wet. The juices soaking him with just a few movements. His fingers dances across your clit pulling airy groans from your mouth. To him you look so beautiful, your head tossed back, eyes fluttering, as your hips rocks into his fingers.

“Need you in me.”

“Wanna taste you.”

You shake your head, big glossy needy eyes focused on him. “Next time maybe.”

His heart jumps at the words ‘next time’. Suguru really hopes there is a next time. Not even for the sex. He just wanted you.

You lift up allowing Suguru the room to pull his pants down. After pulling your own panties to the side you grab his cock and align it before sinking down.

Groans leave both of your mouths and before Suguru can even collect his thoughts you began to bounce up and down. Suguru isn’t even sure were to focus. Your bouncing breast, the perfect contortions of your face, or the lewd scene between your legs.

He leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth again. You felt so good. So wet. So warm. The tight grip on his hair only sending more pleasure through his body while you alternate between bouncing and grinding. Your eyes were closed and you weren’t focused on anything but yourself.

You were using him but none of that mattered.

“Suguru,” you whine, finally looking at him. “feels so good. It feels so good.”

“Only ever want to make you feel good y/n,”

 Suguru says it so quietly that he wasn’t even sure you’d heard or if you did you’d understood what exactly he meant but when your eyes began to water again Suguru knew you had.

You hide your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. When your hips began to falter in pace Suguru knows your close. Once your pussy tightens and your legs begin to shake, Suguru lets himself fall apart too.

You both stay like that. Breathing labored wrapped in each other's arms not saying anything. You stay that way until he hears your little sniffles and feels the tears falling onto his shoulder.

“Don’t cry. Pretty girls don’t cry.”

“Then stop making me.”

[acacia-may]

For What It's Worth (Black Clover Fanfic)

A shadow looms over the dining room when the Golden Dawn gathers for the first time after tragedy threatened to destroy them. Even Yuno who has strived to remain emotionally detached feels its bitter sting, but his attempts to push it aside are thwarted as soon as it becomes abundantly clear that a certain flower mage is in desperate need a friend.

OR

Yuno has always considered himself ill-equipped to deal with emotionally charged situations, and, despite Langris' apparent insistence to the contrary, he doubts that he is in any way qualified to act as consoler. He finds, however, that, for Mimosa at least, he is willing to try.

Yuno & Mimosa’s Friendship and Hurt/Comfort. Also, Yuno & Langris’ Friendship and the Golden Dawn as family.

Characters: Yuno (POV Character), Mimosa Vermillion, Langris Vaude, Klaus Lunettes, William Vangeance, and the Golden Dawn (David is mentioned which is important to me)

Relationships: Yuno & Mimosa Friendship, Yuno & Langris Friendship, Yuno & The Golden Dawn Friendship

Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Dawn as Family, Post-Spade Arc, William Vangeance is a Softie (Change My Mind), and Yuno Can't Feelings But Is Trying His Best.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death, Grief, Black Clover Spoilers for the Spade Arc.

Rated: G

Word Count: 2,612

A/N: This fic is the first and only time I ever wrote in Yuno's POV (apologies in advance to all my Yuno enthusiast friends. I hope I've done him justice 😅). I mentioned this fic in an answer to a recent ask and realized I never cross-posted it to Tumblr. After rereading it on AO3, I thought it was deserving of a home here too. I hope you all enjoy it.

Link to Work on AO3. Full Text Below the Cut. Thank you for reading!

With a sigh, Yuno pushed the food around his plate. It looked delicious—far more decadent than anything he had experienced growing up in Hage Village where most meals consisted of only potatoes. Yuno sighed again. That seemed so long ago now, and so much had happened since then leaving Yuno feeling hardened and weary—old, his mind finished for him.

He placed his fork at the side of his plate. He didn’t feel like eating.

Neither did many of his squad mates, it seemed, as the dining table was filled with picked over plates of food. Klaus, who was seated to his right, had barely touched his besides to take a few bites of steamed green beans and Yuno couldn’t help but wonder if that was only to be polite.

The seat to Yuno’s left was vacant as was the seat to Klaus’ right, but place settings had been laid out in front of them anyway. The sight made Yuno’s stomach churn, and the quiet conversations of his squad mates faded as Yuno’s gaze drifted to the many untouched place settings and empty chairs around their table. His chest grew tight, and he swallowed hard.

Klaus gently nudged his elbow as he reached for a knife and gave him a sympathetic smile before returning to his green beans. David’s voice carried from the other end of the table telling a story not nearly as exuberantly as Yuno had heard it before. Directly across from him, Langris pursed his lips together and grabbed for his glass of wine. He met Yuno’s eyes with a slight tilt of his head. Yuno knew he was thinking the same thing. They all were. 

It was the first time the Golden Dawn had shared a meal together since rescuing Captain Vangeance from Spade, and it was palpably quieter than it had been before. Something twisted in Yuno’s chest as he remembered some of the meals they had shared together in a past that was growing more and more distant—the clanging of glasses as Hamon made a toast; the applause as Shiren stepped in to cut generous portions of turkey for everyone; the raucous laughter and friendly conversation. Now there were only hushed tones, the sounds of silverware scraping against fine china, and a somber pall hovering over the dining room.  

Langris coughed drawing Yuno’s attention. His look conveyed more sympathy than any words and asked ‘Are you alright?’ Choosing not to think too deeply about the question, Yuno nodded with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Langris’ face softened, but he gave him a brisk nod before pointedly tilting his head towards Mimosa who was seated on his right. Though she stared intently at her plate, her gaze was glossy as if she wasn’t staring at anything at all. She hadn’t appeared to have eaten anything.

Langris looked back at Yuno then to Mimosa then to Yuno again. Yuno did much the same and they continued their nonverbal back-and-forth until Langris, seemingly exasperated with Yuno’s blank blinking, sighed and met his eyes with a pointed look that screamed ‘she’s your friend.’ Yuno sighed. He supposed he had always been closer to Mimosa than Langris was but that did not mean that Mimosa wasn’t Langris’ friend too. Yuno decided now was not the time to argue about this, however, and conceded that, yes, even though he still wasn’t entirely sure why Mimosa had adopted him as a friend in the first place, she certainly was now and he should probably do something—anything, his mind corrected—to help her. The only problem was, of course, that he had no idea what that ‘something’ or ‘anything’ was.

With a wish and prayer that the words would eventually come to him if he just started talking, Yuno cleared his throat. “Um…Mimosa?” 

It took her more than a few seconds to look up. Something panged in Yuno’s chest at the sight of her usually laughing eyes so dulled by grief.  “Yes?” she asked.

“Um…” Yuno’s mind suddenly went blank as she gave him the slightest most heartbreaking bittersweet smile. It was then that he noticed something glistening in the corners of her eyes. His heart sank. She was blinking back tears. 

Panicking more than he cared to admit, he glanced over at Langris who merely offered him a look that said, ‘Why in the world are you looking at me of all people?’ before he reached for his wine again with a bitter shake of his head. Yuno supposed Langris had a point. As much as Yuno had never considered himself adept with feelings due to his generally blunt and standoffish demeanour, Langris was much the same way and had insisted time and time again that he was cold, callous, and utterly ill-equipped to deal with these kinds of emotionally-charged situations. In other words, Yuno presumed, he was likely feeling just as helpless.

“Um…” Yuno repeated. “Are you…?”—his heartbeat pounded in his ears and something twisted in his stomach—“feeling okay?” The words felt stiff and unnatural as they fell out of his mouth.

Mimosa turned away from him abruptly but nodded. “Just not very hungry…”

Yuno swallowed hard at the pitiful hitch in her voice, and Langris having reached the bottom of his wine glass tilted his head towards Klaus, presumably suggesting that he would be better at handling this than either of them. In his best attempt to do so without appearing like a backwoods bumpkin from Hage or alerting Mimosa who was once again staring at her plate, Yuno gently nudged him with his elbow.

Klaus turned to him in confusion before Yuno tilted his head just slightly in Mimosa’s direction. “Are you alright, Mimosa?” he asked immediately with an ease that both baffled and impressed Yuno and, judging by his expression, Langris as well.  

Mimosa’s cheeks flushed almost as if she was embarrassed. “I’m fine,” she stumbled in an obvious lie. 

“Can I get you anything?” asked Langris who, Yuno presumed must have finally felt compelled to at least try something. 

“Um…maybe some butter, please?”

Dishes and silverware clanged as Langris, Klaus, and Yuno all bumped into each other reaching for the nearby butter dish at the same time. The room grew thick with silence, and Yuno became painfully aware of where all of his companions had suddenly turned their attention. A faint blush filled Langris’ cheeks despite his stern frown, and Klaus flushed as he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, which had been left askew in the kerfuffle. Yuno who had managed to reach the butter dish first, simply blinked at his squad mates before turning back to Mimosa and handing her the butter she had requested.

Her mouth had twitched in the corners though her blush had deepened. “I’m sorry, she whispered. “I didn’t want to cause…”

“Well, now that I have everyone’s attention,” said Captain Vangeance clearing his throat and, Yuno presumed, kindly trying to save them any further embarrassment while having no idea he had cut off Mimosa. Everyone turned to their Captain and raised their glasses as he tapped his for a toast. 

“I know this has been an incredibly difficult time for everyone. I don’t have to tell you all how hard it is to look around this table at all of the empty places and to think of all of the people who couldn’t be here with us tonight." As the Captain paused, Yuno’s eyes burned. Across the table from him, Langris stared at his glass and Mimosa’s fingers gripped the butter dish until her knuckles turned white. “Even though they may not eat at this table, they will always be a part of this squad.” Captain Vangeance’s voice hitched, and Yuno could have almost sworn he heard him sniffle, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up from his plate. “And as I look around at all of you here—my comrades and my friends—I am reminded of what an honor and a privilege it is to serve as your captain and I know that the Golden Dawn will endure”—he raised his glass—“To the Golden Dawn.”

“To the Golden Dawn,” repeated Yuno in unison with the rest of the table. As he held his glass to his lips, he noticed Mimosa hurriedly folding her napkin and rising from her seat, quietly excusing herself. Yuno’s stomach dropped as he caught sight of the tears which broke free of her desperate attempts to dry her eyes. He swallowed hard and watched her leave the dining room before he exchanged equally concerned glances with Klaus and Langris. Before either of them could say anything, however, Yuno’s body seemed to move on its own and he stood up from his chair.

Klaus tilted his head and Langris quirked an eyebrow at him, but Yuno somehow managed a reassuring nod that he could only hope conveyed, ‘I’ll go talk to her.’

*-*-*

Yuno found Mimosa sitting alone in the courtyard illuminated only by the light of the moon. Her shoulders were shaking as she buried her head in her hands. Yuno felt that familiar pang in his chest as he realized she was crying.

He stopped in his tracks unsure of what he should do. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t thought this far ahead. Leaving the dining room after her had been an impulsive thing—something Asta would do, he thought with a tilt of his head and the slightest twitch in the corners of his mouth—and he hadn’t given the slightest thought as to what he would do or what he would say when he finally caught up to her. What would Asta do if he was here instead, Yuno wondered.

For the next several moments, Yuno contemplated walking up to Mimosa and offering her some motivational pep talk about ‘never giving up’, giving the idea much more consideration than he knew that he should have. Mimosa probably didn’t need reassurance—she probably just needed a friend.

“Oh, Yuno?” she asked as she finally noticed him standing there. She wiped at her eyes, not that it made much of difference. He already knew she had been crying.

“Hey,” he said taking a seat next to her. “You okay?”

Mimosa nodded though her tearstained face and bloodshot eyes said otherwise. “Yeah…um…I just needed some air…”

Yuno blinked at her obvious lie. “Everybody’s worried about you,” he said in his blunt, matter-of-fact way, and Mimosa’s face blushed a beet red.

“I’m sorry,” she said twisting her hands. “I didn’t mean to worry anybody.”

Yuno shrugged. “It’s no problem. We’re your squad.”

Mimosa whimpered, and her shoulders began to shake again.

“Hey, please don’t cry,” he said—the even tone of his voice not at all reflective of his level of concern at seeing her cry again. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized frantically swiping at the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about—” Her voice hitched as if the words were getting tangled in the back of her throat. Yuno swallowed and nodded. She didn’t need to finish.

“I know,” he said softly. “Me too.”

“It’s all my fault,” cried Mimosa, no longer even trying to stop her tears.

“No, it’s not. It’s Zenon and his generals’ fault for attacking our base.” The words felt as forced and mechanical as they did when he told them to himself over and over, and he knew better than anyone that they were going to do very little to make her feel better.  

“But I wasn’t even here,” Mimosa argued. “If I was, maybe I could’ve saved them.”

“Mimosa…”

“You saw what happened at the end of our battle in Spade,” she cut him off with a forcefulness that almost startled him—it was so unlike her. “All those people—they almost died…”

“And they would have if it wasn’t for you,” Yuno interjected.

Mimosa caught her breath—swiping at the tears cascading down her cheeks, and the words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly Yuno struggled to keep up with them. “But that’s the point isn’t it? If I could save Captain Yami and Gadjah and Nacht and all of those other people, why couldn’t I save Shiren or Hamon or the rest of our squad? They needed me, and I wasn’t there. If I was, I could’ve saved their lives too.”

“You don’t know that…”

“Yes, I do,” she argued curling her hands into fists.

“No, you don’t.” Heat rose in Yuno’s chest. He could hear it infecting his words as he spoke. “If you had been here, they would’ve just killed you too. We all would’ve died if it wasn’t for Captain Vangeance’s magic—back then…back then, there was nothing any of us could do.” As Yuno’s words echoed through the courtyard he wondered if he was speaking more to Mimosa or to himself. She must have been wondering the same thing because she turned to stare at him with kind and sympathetic eyes.

He turned away from her with a sigh. “Listen,” he said. “I know it’s hard not to second guess yourself. You’re an amazing mage, and you have incredible power—but this was not your battle to fight.”

Mimosa huffed and stood up from her seat—a fire and determination in her eyes that Yuno wasn’t used to. “I’m as much a part of the Golden Dawn as you. If my squad was fighting for their lives, I should have been there.”

“If you had died there, nobody you saved in Spade would’ve survived. Nobody, Mimosa,” said Yuno bluntly. His face softened. “And I know that’s not what our fallen comrades would’ve wanted.”

Mimosa sighed and took her seat again. She wiped at her eyes, but her shoulders had stopped shaking. After what felt like an eternity, she finally conceded in a small, quiet voice, “You’re right.”

Yuno felt no satisfaction in having won the argument. He certainly didn’t feel like a winner as he gave her a curt nod, and they sat side-by-side in the courtyard as she quietly cried—Yuno’s own eyes burning all the while with tears held back only by sheer force of will. He wasn’t sure how long they had sat there when he felt her hand brush up against his. He took it—giving it a gentle squeeze as if to remind her that he was still here, for whatever that was worth. When she squeezed his hand back, he wondered if she wanted him to know the same.

The words began to tumble out before he could stop them though they were so quiet he wasn’t sure she could even hear him. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you weren’t there…” His voice trailed. “I don’t think I could’ve lost you.”

Mimosa sniffled, and Yuno turned to her with wide, concerned eyes. How had he made her cry again?

He was wondering how he could take back what he had said when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. “I don’t think I could’ve lost you, either,” she said as she pressed her chin to his shoulder. 

Yuno’s eyes widened, but before he could even begin to process what was happening, she pulled away from him again. Though her eyes were teary, she smiled at him.

“Thanks, Yuno,” she said before she sniffled and wiped her eyes. 

“Are you ready to go back in?” he asked.

“I’m ready if you are,” she said as she slipped her hand into his.

Yuno sighed with relief and nodded at her before they walked back into the dining room hand-in-hand.

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member almost overdoses ft overprotective unnies

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that the anon who gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it!

The request: This might be deep... but could you write 10th member using anti depressants because she's been diagnosed with depression but she tries to commit suicide by overdosing? the members finds her and her suicide note that she wrote but she'll be okay in the end

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The members of TWICE had been busy with their world tour, travelling from one city to another, performing in sold-out arenas, and living their dreams. But behind the bright stage lights and the screaming fans, there were moments of solitude, moments of quiet, and moments when the darkness of reality seemed to creep in.

Y/N, the 10th and youngest member of TWICE, had been diagnosed with depression a few years ago. She had tried to keep it a secret from her group members, not wanting to burden them with her pain. She had been seeing a therapist and taking antidepressants, and for the most part, she had managed to keep her struggles hidden.

But the relentless pressure of the entertainment industry, the constant scrutiny, and the weight of perfection had taken its toll on her. She felt like she was living in a never-ending storm, and it was getting harder to keep her head above water.

One evening, in a foreign city, the maknae found herself alone in her hotel room. The members were out, enjoying a rare break from their hectic schedule. Y/N had always been a bit quieter than the rest, and they often assumed she was simply enjoying some alone time. But that evening, TWICE's angel was battling the darkest thoughts she had ever faced.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her emotions overwhelming her. The pills on her bedside table called out to her, a temporary escape from the pain that gnawed at her from the inside. Y/N had taken her antidepressants as prescribed earlier in the day, but in her desperate state of mind, she saw them as a way out, a way to silence the storm.

With trembling hands, she picked up the bottle of pills and poured them onto her hand, counting them one by one. She stared at the handful of tiny capsules, tears streaming down her face. She thought about the pain she had hidden for so long, the weight that seemed impossible to carry, and the desperate need to find a way out.

TWICE's sunshine knew the dangers of overdosing, but at that moment, the overwhelming darkness made her believe it was the only option. She began to swallow the pills one by one, tears mixing with the bitter taste of the medication. Her vision blurred as the world around her seemed to fade away.

As she lay on the bed, the world outside her window continued to spin. She wrote a note, a goodbye to her group members, apologizing for not being strong enough and for the pain she believed she had caused them. In her heart, she thought that this was the only way to escape the torment of depression, the relentless battle she had fought for so long.

Meanwhile, the TWICE unnies had returned to their hotel room, laughing and sharing stories of their day out. But as they entered the room, a sense of dread filled the air. Y/N's absence was immediately noticeable, and her untouched belongings on the nightstand raised alarm.

Dahyun, always perceptive, noticed the faint sound of sobbing coming from the bathroom. She rushed in, gasping at the sight of her dongsang's crumpled form on the bathroom floor, the empty pill bottle beside her, and the suicide note in her hand.

Dahyun - Y/N! 

Dahyun screamed, her voice choked with panic, and the other members rushed in behind her.

Their world came crashing down as they realized what had happened. Momo, Tzuyu, and Sana dialled emergency services while Nayeon and Jeongyeon, tears streaming down their faces, tried to keep their kid awake, their voices trembling with fear and anguish.

The paramedics arrived in what felt like an eternity, rushing to stabilize Y/N and take her to the hospital. The members were left behind, in a state of shock and grief, clutching the suicide note that Y/N had written.

They read her words, each sentence piercing their hearts like a thousand daggers. Y/N had felt like a burden and like her struggles were too much for them to bear. She apologized for the pain she believed she had caused them, and it tore at the very fabric of their souls.

At the hospital, the doctors worked tirelessly to save the young girl's life. Her body had absorbed a dangerous amount of medication, and the battle to keep her alive was touch and go. Her older sisters, holding onto each other for support, couldn't stop blaming themselves for not noticing her pain earlier.

Hours passed, and the room seemed to close in on them. They had no news, no idea if Y/N would ever open her eyes again. Jihyo, usually the strong and cheerful leader, couldn't hold back her tears as she clung to Nayeon's arm. 

Nayeon - I can't believe this happened. I can't believe we almost lost her.

Jihyo's eyes were red from crying, and her voice was heavy with guilt. 

Jihyo - We should have known, Nayeon unnie. We should have been there for her. We should have seen the signs.

As the night deepened, the hospital room was filled with sorrow and prayers for their girl's recovery. It was a long and agonizing wait, and each passing moment felt like an eternity.

Finally, as dawn broke, the doctor emerged from Y/N's room. The members, their eyes swollen from crying, rushed to hear the news. The doctor looked at them with a grave expression before saying:

She's stable, but it was a close call. She's in a medically induced coma for now. We'll need to monitor her closely.

Relief washed over the members, and their tears turned from sorrow to hope. Their maknae was still with them, and they vowed to never let her feel alone again. They had come so close to losing her, and it was a wake-up call they would never forget.

The following days were a blur of anxiety and waiting. The members took turns staying with Y/N, talking to her, and praying for her recovery. Each day, they hoped for a sign, a glimmer of hope that she would wake up and return to them.

And then, one day, it happened. Y/N stirred in her hospital bed, her eyelids fluttering as consciousness returned to her. The room was filled with joy and relief as the members rushed to her side, their voices filled with love and care.

TWICE's pride and joy blinked up at their tear-streaked faces, her memory gradually returning. She looked at each member in turn, and her heart swelled with gratitude and love. 

Y/N - I'm so sorry. *whispering*

Jihyo, Nayeon, and the other members surrounded her, their arms enveloping her in a warm and protective embrace. 

Jihyo - You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. We love you, Y/N, and we're going to be here for you every step of the way. 

Jihyo said, her voice filled with the gentle, motherly care that had always defined her. 

Y/N's recovery was a slow and arduous process, but with the unwavering support of her group members, her therapist, and her medical team, she began to heal. She was no longer alone in her battle with depression, and she learned that there was strength in seeking help and opening up to those who cared about her.

One evening, as they sat in their dorm, Y/N took a deep breath and decided it was time to express her gratitude. She looked at her fellow older sisters, her eyes brimming with sincerity and love. 

Y/N - I just want to say thank you, for being there for me, for saving my life. I love you all more than words can express.

Jihyo, the ever-caring leader and Y/N' mama, gave her a warm smile. 

Jihyo - We love you too, honey, and we're so proud of how far you've come. You're not alone in this, and we'll always be here for you.

Nayeon - We're your family, sweet girl. And families stick together through thick and thin.

Tears of gratitude filled Y/N's eyes as she realized the depth of the connection she had with her group members. She knew she had come close to losing everything, but this near-tragedy had brought them even closer. They had become not just a K-pop group but a resilient, loving family, bound by shared experiences and an unbreakable bond.

And this made them all have the same thought:

I'll love my dear chosen family forever.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors. English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

[paramorearchived]

October 11, 2011

Transcript:

history

hey all,

hope everyone is enjoying "Renegade" and into everything we released today. hard to believe we wrote those songs so long ago and are just now getting them out there. i was ready to post them the week they were all laid down at the studio. so much has happened, changed, been good and bad, over the last year or two... and this is a nice big exhale. the calm after the storm, which sometimes is pretty hard to come by. now that we are seeing these songs off for you to take care of and keep as your own, we are now beginning a whole new journey. the writing process is always a weird time for me... i doubt myself, listen to past records a lot to reassure myself, i isolate myself to make sure i'm staying focused... like i said, it can be pretty strange. however, this time i'm gonna try and break that mold i made for myself. jeremy, taylor, and i owe it to ourselves to really take us to a new place and just enjoy the whole thing without any stresses or awkward tensions. you guys know as well as we do, that it's been a while since we've made a record that was just plain fun to make without any hangups.

so here goes. we've got some songs underway but it's still the beginning.

on another completely different note, i really hope that the community can be a positive place. i am a person who has strong opinions... i don't always voice them because i really don't think it's my place as an artist to be one of the loud mouths.... but what i'm trying to say is that, i understand people having opinions and wanting to voice them. there's nothing wrong with not agreeing with everyone. what bugs me is that this place, this community, is a place for fans/family of our band to stop by and leave feeling better, not worse. no.. of course i don't think the world is all roses and daises... but come on, you can get your fill of negativity just about anywhere else. so please, feel free to say you don't like a song or you just aren't into the way my voice sounds on this or that... but i am asking you to do it with purpose and not just because you don't have anything else better to say. it's really disheartening to see people here use our original online community as a sounding board for spiteful, bitterness.

anyway, i'm not your mom....

time to go write....

hayley

[glassbubblebooks]

Short Story📖✒️🤍

Hello and welcome to my new Blog Post!

Today I wanted to share a short story I wrote a while ago. I also participated in a writing competition, but sadly I didn’t won :( It means a lot to me, since I wrote it at a time where I felt very caught up in my small home town and just wanted to escape. Do you know that feeling?

(Quick note): I translated it, because I wrote it in German originally

David Bowie in the Old Apartment

She places the last moving box on the reddish-brown laminate floor. The open balcony door lets a warm summer breeze drift into the empty room, bringing with it the sounds of city life and birdsong. In the sunlight, dust floats through the air. She lets her gaze wander around the room. The walls, still white and bare, seem endlessly high. On closer inspection, she notices a couple of small spiders settled into the corners. They’ll soon be swept away with a single motion, and these bare walls, now lifeless, will be barely visible under vibrant colors, pictures, and posters. She’s already imagined it all. “The couch will go here, and the TV over there,” she thinks to herself. She turns to look at the kitchen counter left behind by the previous tenants. Right now, it looks a bit lonely and worn, but soon it, too, will contribute to her new home’s atmosphere.

Here she stands, tired and sweaty but also content and hopeful in her very first apartment. Boxes filled with dishes, books, clothes, decorations, and so many other things are stacked around the room, and IKEA furniture leans against the walls, waiting to be assembled. She feels grander than ever. Everything here can be arranged, organized, and used however she wants. Just her. No one to dictate what she should cook or when the dishes need washing. It’s a wonderful feeling! Carefully, she opens the first box labeled “Plates and Mugs” and starts setting up her own kitchen. The plates, all a matte gray, look brand-new and carefully chosen. She picked them out just last week, and now they’re ready for their first use. What will she eat from them first? Maybe a delicious pasta dish? Or a juicy burger? It doesn’t matter; the important thing is that it’s her choice. Looking at the mugs, she can already imagine autumn evenings when she’ll be curled up in a warm blanket, sipping hot tea. Now, nothing stands in the way of her dreams. Soon she’ll be starting her apprenticeship in a photography studio. She’s longed for this career for so long, and now she’s at the beginning of what will hopefully be an endless roll of film.

“Get a real job!” “Do things differently.” “You have such unrealistic dreams.” “Listen to me.” “You’re not good enough”—all those phrases that echoed in her mind for years now feel like distant whispers, miles away. Bitterness left behind with all the bitter people in her hometown. Now she lives in the big city, far from where opinions are thrown in your face, and everyone judges you openly. Here, you can blend into the crowd, do your own thing, and nothing holds you back. No buses running only four times a day, no shops closing at 6 p.m., no unreliable internet connection. She feels free, unchained from the small-town mindset, ready to reach for everything she’s dreamed of. Uplifted by these thoughts, she turns on some music. The soothing sounds of David Bowie fill the echoing, empty rooms, and as Ziggy Stardust waits for her in space, she fills the kitchen shelves with all sorts of items.

Musically, Bowie is merging with Queen in “Under Pressure,” but for the first time in ages, she doesn’t feel under pressure at all. How long has she waited to finally stand on her own two feet, living life on her terms? She’s always been treated like a child. The youngest of four siblings—the baby of the family. Every relative thought they knew best, whether about school, career, or even love. All they ever did was criticize her. They made her feel so worthless that she often thought about giving in to their negativity and letting her doubts consume her. She almost abandoned her passion for photography to give herself entirely to a gray, performance-driven society. This passion, which had made her an outsider in her old town, was always her source of comfort. The thought that she nearly threw it away for something “safe” sends a shiver down her spine. Discovering Bowie, who also found himself and his creativity in a big city, gave her the courage to leave everything that felt painfully familiar behind. She feels no regret. Only euphoria! Who would have thought a move could trigger such powerful emotions? Only now does she realize how confined she was over the years—by family, by “friends,” by her entire environment. That’s over now, once and for all!

“I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring,” Bowie once said, and now she understands. She had the will to dive into unknown waters and trust the wind to carry her. To Berlin, Los Angeles, or even Mars. Bowie’s ability to stay true to himself and pursue his dreams without letting his toxic surroundings get to him has always inspired her. That’s exactly how she wants to live and be an example to others from now on.

Everything inspires her right now. The smell of new furniture, the dust on the windowsill, the bustling streets below. A flyer drifts in through the open balcony door with a gust of wind. She picks it up and reads, “Saturday Night – Big Street Festival! Good vibes, drinks, and music!” Excitement floods her entire body. She missed events like these. No more parties in a grimy village club—she wants something special! To embrace the openness of the city and feel connected to strangers in a way she never did with people she knew.

Hours fly by. The kitchen is completely set up, and the bookshelf, couch, and TV are in their desired spots. The last decorative items are in place, and a few small posters find a place on the wall. The radio plays “Heroes,” and that’s exactly how she feels as she falls onto the sofa, freshly showered with a cold glass of iced tea. She looks out the window, watching the sky turn orange from the setting sun. The colorful light floods the entire room, and she looks around once again. This apartment, still so empty in the morning, now holds so much personality—her personality. Finally, she doesn’t have to hide. No more following her family’s habits or hearing how many pictures on the wall are too many. The freedom to be herself sends a joyful shiver through her. She feels a sense of exhilarating completeness for the first time in her life—the completeness of absolute freedom. She steps onto the balcony, where a chubby pigeon is perched on the railing, watching her. She waves at it cheerfully before it flies off. “Flying must feel even better,” she thinks as she hears the door open. Her best friend and roommate steps in with the last box under his arm. After graduating high school, they finally achieved their dream of living together. “I returned the truck. This last box was still on the passenger seat. Wow, it looks amazing in here!” he says, looking around as he sets down the box. With a deep sigh, he collapses onto the couch. She imagines he must feel just as free. Their dream life is finally beginning!

“I saw an Asian restaurant around the corner on the way back. Let’s go there—I think we should celebrate the move,” he says. She turns to him, grinning, and nods. “That’s a fantastic idea; I’m starving!” The two slip on their shoes and head out the door. “By the way, I already know what we can do on Saturday,” she says as they step outside. She turns to take one last look at the old apartment. Thinking about her newfound freedom, she looks forward.

I really hope, that you like my story and I would love to hear your opinion on my story!

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Love, bubble🫧

[neptunianashes]

hey leo, we use to talk a little bit before my account was terminated. this was about a year or two ago now. i couldn’t remember your name for the life of me as we only spoke for like 2 weeks and i’m pretty bad with memory due to medicines i use to take. but as i was watching a video on space theories a couple weeks back, i heard neptune, and your name just came to mind again. but when i found you again i felt like i was looking at someone completely different. you use to be so kind hearted and sweet but from what i’m seeing it just seemed like you became pretty misogynistic and so full of hate. i don’t know what happened that made you become so hate filled for women but i honestly hope you can heal and find peace within yourself. i too have some spite over men due to my own traumas caused by a few bad apples, so i understand a bit. i am also healing from this toxic view as well with therapy. in reality, shitty people are just shitty people, and gender doesn’t mean much in the long run when it comes to that. please try to work on this mindset and just work on your mental health as best as you can.

i thought about reaching out to you several times to catch up, or even to be mutuals. but i just don’t think it’s best for my state of mind to talk with someone who seems to hate women as much as you do as i just don’t feel very welcome or comfortable on top of also struggling to speak to people in general due to my paranoia and social anxiety. but i do care nonetheless, and i want to see you become a better you. i will always hope for the best for you, leo. maybe one day we will cross paths again but for now, this is my goodbye.

wow, this was such a surprise! I was not expecting a message like this at all. I am now curious who you might be uhm. I understand your concerns and thank you for your kind and thoughtful message. I am happy you remembered me watching a space video. And yes, I understand your point of view not feeling comfortable talking to me now. I sense you wrote this message being a bit worried and disappointed to discover my change but if it makes you feel less worried I am not a true misogynist, I know there are a lot of good women in the world, I just stopped believing the notion that your gender was the innocent, pure and angelical one. I lost that idea and I now see women as flawed humans with the capability of doing as much evil as men do instead of seeing all women less evil than men like I used to. It is like you said it depends on individuals rather than gender, I know I shouldn't generalized all of you, that's on me. And it is true as you said: I am unfortunately a bit more bitter and less kind and sweet as I once was. That being said and despite of my venting posts against women, I am currently talking with a woman friend here on tumblr nowadays, and I of course do not treat her like I talk about women on my posts, so it's not like I am in a state of total madness and out of touch like I may seem on my posts, I am still kind and friendly when I talk. Anyways, when you mentioned your social anxiety and paranoia I think I may know who you may be if I remember correctly, if one day you feel comfortable enough and you need someone to talk to then my dms is open. Thank you again for your thoughtful message it really warmed my heart a little bit more.

[pickle-the-lad]

I wrote the story last year, and it's posted on Wattpad, but for those who don't use that, I'm posting it here too💖 please read the tags before the story!

Why won't it stop smiling at me… The forest, lit blue by the midnight moon and its starry sky, but I stare at the ground.

It moves with me still, it's still shaped like me. But when I turn to keep walking, I feel it grow closer. And when I look back, it doesn't hide that fact as it slowly slinks back to form. My shadow is out to kill me, and it radiates impatience for its goal.

'What do I do, walk backwards home?' I think to myself as I remember the forest path to my house, a death trap watching where you're going.

Staring down at my captor, just trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. "This is crazy." I say under my breath, laughing to myself like a totally sane person. This makes no sense, absolute insanity, but I'm frozen… "I just have to turn around… right?"

But I stand there, hands in my hoodie's pockets, just staring at the ground… "just turn around, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Ṫ̷̡h̸͈̃e̸̮͛ń̸͉ ̸̠̓d̷̘͝o̴̦͌ ̵̦̽i̷̠͒t̸̥͋"

It's voice came from behind my ear… with icy breath and bitter aggravation.

So this is how absolute dread and insanity feels like. I laugh to myself as I realize the weight of this moment; Either I'm insane or dead and I don't know which.

I start carefully and slowly walking backwards, as the thing attached to my feet follows suit.

"Ẃ̴͙h̸͍͐a̴͈̋t̶̖̓ ̴̩̍á̷͈ȑ̵̠e̸̼͝ ̵̯́y̴͖͂o̷̱̎ū̶̘ ̸̟́s̶̯͋o̴͇̾ ̶̜̋a̵̦͝f̶̘͝r̷̙̃a̷̐͜ḯ̷̼d̷̮̆ ̶̠̅o̴͚̒f̶͇͐?̶̘͋" it's cold whisper, a heavy contrast to the warm breeze.

I press on, refusing… or unable to open my mouth to answer it's twisted question. As I walk under the forest canopy, I watch that thing melt into the shadows.

But instead of feelings of relief, overwhelming dread consumes me before I turn around and book it towards the street light. I just know if I make it there I'll be fine!

I feel the shadows around me gnaw and claw at my legs as I run. Laughter from all around me, maniacal and taunting. What is this nightmare I've stepped into!

I collapse into the yellow light, just trying to remember how to breathe. My Shadows slowly slides below me and it feels chained again. Like a shadow should be… but I'm still not home.

I look up at the shadows that cover the rest of my path. My legs burning, I give them a look over. They're covered in scratches, they don't look near as deep as they feel though. I look up at the Moon that I've admired for the past two and a half decades, wondering why she would do this to me…

The moon, who used to be my only comforting friend throughout the night… it's insane but I just know that it's her. It sounds so delusional, but looking back at my bleeding legs, it's the only thing that makes sense! There's no way just kicking up some gravel, and managing to avoid roots sticking up from the ground did this!

As the old light bulb flickers, I jolt up knowing I won't be safe there for long.

"A̷̜͛w̷̮̑~̷͇̈ ̸̦̑ȉ̷͍s̸̰̅ ̸͎̈́t̶͚̒h̸̼͒ė̷̼ ̴͈̔l̸͜͝i̷̺͌t̸͎̊t̵̪̂l̵̜͗e̸̪͝ ̵̻̏ḇ̶̀ǫ̴̈́y̸̘̅ ̷͍̀t̷̹̂h̶̥̾a̶͓͊ẗ̷̘ ̸͔̎s̴̥̃c̵̜̈́à̵͕r̵͉̋e̴̪͗d̵̻͠ ̵̢̉ǫ̷̈́f̸̙̾ ̶̗͐í̵̜t̵̮͗s̴̢̑ ̵̥̃o̵̝̾w̸̦͌n̷͓̈́ ̶̱͝s̶͇͂h̸͔͠ă̸̹d̸̩̂o̶̡̅w̵̼͝?̶̫̊"

Bolting down the road, in and out of the blue moonlight and her shadows. I see my driveway, alit with the blue and a shadow man waving at me with a shit-eating grin.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I turn into my driveway, skating and catching myself as I try to keep momentum.

"F̵̛̜a̸̔ͅs̸̙̚t̵͉͊e̸͒͜r̵͉͝" its gravelly laughter fills me with fear as I cry down the driveway begging to reach the porch light.

Throwing myself onto my porch, I turn around and watch as this yellow light bends my pursuer to its disdain. Standing right beside me, just as a shadow should.

I stumble inside, wash my wounds and bandage up my legs… this all happened just a couple of weeks ago. Now, whenever I look into the night, I'm just filled with dread and that nightmare creeps back into my mind…

I think I'm done with night walks for good…

[slug-cube]

dramatic rant, incoming.

whatever. OKAY. WHAT. EVER. /lh

hoky shit. listen to me- listen.... nobody is gonna be able. to take bkdk away from me, okay? NO. ONE! do you know how many times i got bullied for saying i ship bakudeku, bullied by my friends? and now its the most potentially, most heart throbbing, heartbreaking, most cinamtic fucking pair i have ever witnessed? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

no no, listen. listen. i have gone through countless ships, praying that they would be canon, because i saw how much potential they could have. how everything tied in so lovingly like a placed present under a box with a stick holding it up. a ruse. a obvious trap. but i fell for it. every. time.

and youre saying that after years of torment by people from antis to friends to peers, i was RIGHT? I WAS FUCKING RIGHT? i dont even give a FUCK if its romantic or not. i was right. bakugou and izuku are intertwined with eachother in a way that its artistically crafted and i was RIGHT. fuck YOU. youre telling me izuku "i will kill for kacchan" midoriya and katsuki "i would die for izuku" bakugou arent closer than just friends, i will laugh in your face. i am crazed, okay? i will LAUGH and keel over on the ground and wheeze until i cant breathe anymore.

it was so obvious from the get go. like honestly, it was. how izuku kept calling katsuki "kacchan" even though they hadnt been close friends in a long, long time. even dudebros cant even come up with an excuse. how can you excuse something like that? like seriously? if izuku really did hate bakugou why give him a fond nickname instead of a scathing "bakugou" everytime they interacted like the dudebros believed? and why did bakugou ALLOW it?

izuku imitating bakugou,

like this, a more obvious example. if izuku hated bakugou SO much, then why. WHY. HUH?

and this was early in to the show and manga. where bakugou hadnt apologized yet, and the tension between them was fucking awful.

now that we know izuku thinks highly towards kacchan, admires him, thinks kacchan is his shining light, his image of victory. we can piece it together. bit by bit. and it becomes clearer, and everybody who was talking crap and sending out death threats look like complete idiots. idiots.

so sorry for wanting to brag, but my bumbling adhd ass gets genuinely hurt when a friend comments that my ship sucks. and its been a long time coming letting all this out.

[hareharrison]

hold me

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: george is in the process of finishing abbey road, and has been repeatedly coming home frustrated. instead of talking to you about it, he distances himself completely, and only speaks to you in annoyance or anger, and lashes out on you. he doesn’t know how much it affects you and one day comes home to the effects firsthand.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angy geo, neurodivergent reader, invasive thoughts, mental breakdown/panic attack, but it works out in the end

a/n: hayyyy ok so i wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and i decided to post it cause why not. i struggle with intense fear of abandonment cause of bpd haha fun 😐and wanted to make it from the POV of a neurodivergent reader?? so this is like a comfort fic for ND readers?? idk if i need to put any other potential trigger warnings for this but if i do please lmk and i will fix it

year: 1969

the flat was quiet without him. to be honest, it was quiet with or without him, lately. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, george had been distant. he was always a quiet person, but he has never dismissed you this much. you knew that his job could be tiring and you tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. a voice in your head was planting horrible ideas, saying things like, “you fucked up, he doesn’t like you anymore, you’re annoying.” but still, you pushed on and tried your best to ignore the noise in your brain.

you sigh heavily and slide back into the couch. you had the next two days off of work, and nothing to do. george of course had to work on your days off, which left you alone at home. with your thoughts. it was hard getting through today, your intrusive thoughts were particularly loud... but he would be home any minute now, which brought on a bit of hope; seeing him should rid you of your own jailhoused mind.

the tv played some sitcom in front of you, which you had no interest in. all you could think about was if you ruined things. what if he was thinking of leaving you? it would be your fault... and yet you couldn’t think of a single thing you’ve ever done that might have hurt him.

the door opened gently and let in a cool draft that brushed against your warm skin. you look toward the entrance, seeing your george sigh heavily with exhaustion as he took his shoes and coat off. he looked up to you, his boldly furrowed brows softening.

“hi, love,” he says, walking toward you. you stand and approach him to greet him with a quick kiss. he holds you for a little longer than usual, and you take the opportunity to melt into his arms and breathe in his smell, something you’d been deprived of recently. he rests his chin on top of your head, which laid comfortably on his rising chest. it was moments like this that made all your worries slip away, moments like this that you wished you could cling onto forever and ever.

“how was your day?” you ask, finally leaning back to look up at him. he lets go of you and runs a hand through his long hair.

“not good,” he says, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. you return his expression at the sight of him being sad. quickly, you remember your dinner ideas. maybe that would cheer him up.

“hey, maybe we can go get something to eat? maybe get your mind off of things?” you suggest, looking up at his brown eyes. he looks down at you, eyes full of regret.

“i’m sorry love, but i’d rather just head to bed already,” he says remorsefully. you smile softly and reassure him that it’s okay and he should get some rest. but part of you breaks inside, knowing he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

he headed upstairs and you followed, the painful ideas returning at full speed.

“you’re so annoying, of course he doesn’t want to spend any time with you. you’re so annoying and clingy,” your brain says and you flinch at the harsh thoughts. through your entire bedtime routine, thoughts flooded your mind and filled your entire being up, and you felt like you were being drowned from the inside out. george stood next to you as you both brushed your teeth, not speaking a single word to you or giving you a single glance. you changed into one of george’s t-shirts and watched as he slid out of his clothes and into his pajamas in seconds. he muttered a monotone, “good night,” before turning on his side, his back facting you.

as much as you didn’t want to, you believed the mean voices and hung your head as you got into bed next to george.

you slept back to back that night.

————————————————————

the sun seeped into your room through your windows, and invaded your bed, waking you rather unpleasantly. you groan lightly as you reached over your bed for george, but only found empty space. his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been up for a while now.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and morning dew hit your senses. you hear the song of the early birds chirping as your feet hit the cool floor. as you head downstairs, you can hear george on the phone, and you soon see him muttering softly before taking a long drag from his cigarette. you don’t bother him, seeing that there was paperwork on the table and his call must be business related. naturally, you decide to head for the coffee, the smell luring you in like a fish.

you poured the hot, dark liquid into your favorite mug and add in your preferred amounts of cream and sugar. looking out the window, you see water drip gently from the leaves of a tree that george and you had planted a year ago. you sip your coffee and reminisce about the times you used to actually spend time with george. how nice it was, seeing him smile so often.

you suddenly hear george raise his voice at the phone, something unlike him entirely. you jump at the unpleasant sound before peeking through the hallway to see what on earth was happening.

“no, i don’t care! i want the bloody bastard fired, in fact, tell him not to bother showing up today,” he shouts into the phone before slamming it down, placing his head between his knees and groaning in frustration. seeing george this upset and acting out on it was truly a rare sighting, and you thought carefully about what to next.

after careful consideration, you tiptoe into the room and gently rest a hand on his shoulder, the sudden contact making him flinch.

“christ, (y/n) are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” he grumbles before lighting another cigarette.

“sorry,” you say softly, “would you like some tea?” you figure it could calm his anger and soothe some of his abnormal irritability.

“what? tea? there’s already coffee made,” he says rudely. you take a step back, saying nothing. you know that you didn’t do anything and that this behavior would pass. george was never like this. your eyes find the time and see that george should have left ten minutes ago.

“george, you’re gonna be late to work,” you say, thinking you could at least do something helpful. his head snaps back at you and his once soft face turned hard with anger.

“what are you implying? you want me gone?” he stands up and angrily grabs all of the papers scattered on the table, shoving them into a folder and the folder into his bag, “fine, i’ll leave. im out the door.”

you look at him in confusion, you’d barely woken up and were just trying to help, “what’s the matter with you?”

“what’s the matter with me,” he repeats, looking away and scoffing. he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “im sick of this, (y/n)! im sick of life. i come home exhausted and you have half a mind to ask me if i want to talk about it!”

“you always want to go straight to bed,” you defend yourself, hurt that he would even suggest that you don’t care about him. his dark eyes glare into your own for a moment that feels like hours, trying to think of somethig clever to say in response, but he just wasn’t ever much of a fighter. he finally chooses to put his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and grab his coat. if you wanted him out of the house, he was more than happy to comply.

“george-“ you start.

“no,” he cuts you off, “don’t say anything right now, i can’t even look at you.” and he doesn’t, he ignores your presence entirely as he picks up his bag and walks out the door.

you’re left in the cold house, alone, hurt, and dumbfounded. you couldn’t believe what had just happened. you couldn’t believe that george, your george, had taken his anger out on you, simply for trying to help his morning be less shitty. worse than that, he thought you wanted him gone, when all you wanted was to be with him. is this how it was going to be now? a bitter, loveless relationship? your eyes sting with fresh tears at the thought, and a huge lump in your throat grows painfully. you take a deep breath before heading upstairs. you wanted anything but to cry this early in the morning, and the only reason you got up somewhat early was to see george before he left to work. now that your morning was ruined, you figured heading back to bed was the next best thing.

you climb back into your shared bed, suppressing your emotions with the warmth of your fluffy blankets and soft pillows. the comfort of a bed felt almost like a hug, and you sighed, letting the pain drift away as you fell asleep.

————————————————————

when you opened your eyes, the realization hit you. you’d slept until the sun began to set, completely ignoring your emotions, stuffing them down inside of you like an overflowing trash can. being awake made them fling right back at you; sleeping didn’t change a thing, and was only a temporary pause in your pain.

all of your feelings came back to you at once, and it once again felt like you were drowning internally. only this time, the thoughts weren’t the invasive factor. your emotions were overwhelmingly intense on top of your brain practically screaming horrible things to you. your breathing quickens as you feel tears slide down your face. this time you werent able to swallow the thick lump in your throat, and you began to weep softly.

this was it, george was leaving you. he hates you, he wants nothing to do with you. there was nothing you could do but hug your knees and cry. you choked on a sob and started rocking back and forth in attempts to try to soothe yourself. but you couldn’t stop, it felt like your entire world was falling apart. you soon began to have shortness of breath and struggled with your breathing, feeling your heart beat at an intense rate that you couldn’t control.

your bedroom door opens, revealing george’s early arrival. he immediately rushes to your side, afraid to touch you but wanting so bad to comfort you.

“(y/n)? (y/n), breathe. breathe, baby,” he takes your hand and you look at him. you aren’t sure if him being here is making the situation better or worse. seeing him try to help you stirred all kinds of feelings in your mind. you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you didn’t deserve his help.

george begins breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, gently guiding you and hoping you will try to do the same. he sits in front of you on the bed and holds your face in his gentle hands. you look up into his eyes, the chocolate features of his face soothing you as your breath began to steady.

“that’s it,” he encourages.

“do you hate me?” you cry softly.

“what? no, (y/n), i’d give my life for yours, do you know that? you’re so, very special to me,” he slides over to sit beside you on the bed and wraps his long arms around you.

“why are you so distant?” you look up at him, and tears continue to roll down your flushed cheeks, “you acted so mean to me this morning, i feel like you want nothing to do with me.”

george is hurt by your words. he truly didn’t mean to be distant, and he never wanted to hurt you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “ive been so overwhelmed i haven’t stopped to think of how you must feel. im really sorry my love i never meant to hurt you like this.” he embraces you tightly and you give into his comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his torso and digging your face into his chest. 

you take a deep breath, “i understand,” you say before looking up to him to whisper, “i miss you. i miss us.”

“i miss you too darling,” he pauses for a moment, “how about i take tomorrow off? we can do whatever you’d like.”

you sniffle, “what about the album? the deadline?” 

“i can fake sick. nothing is more important to me than you,” he says, “i want nothing more than to be with you. i love you so much.”

you smile when he presses a soft kiss to your aching head, “now how about we go have something to eat? i’m starved.”

[seijorhi]

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

[lost-in-the-80s]

Give Me A Chance

Pairing: Slash x fem!reader

Words: 1,196k

Summary: You’ve made your biggest mistake, falling in love with your brother's friend who would never like you back. Or so you think. (fluff)

A/N: George Michael’s Careless Whisper was going in and out of my head while I wrote this lol.

PS: Also, I’d like to thank you guys for your patience with Kink Roulette, I’m writing your requests, but at a very slow pace, once I finish all of them I’ll make another kink weekend and post all of them at once :)

You looked at yourself in the mirror, applying some red lipstick on, remembering how you had managed to steal it from a nearby store some weeks ago. 

Times were difficult and being one of the only people who worked, you had to put all your money into paying the bills. 

Being Izzy’s younger sister had its advantages, but sharing the apartment with four other dudes wasn’t one of them. They were always drunk or high, yelling and laughing at anything, and you were lucky if you could come out of the shower and not find one of them using the toilet, since the apartment’s locks didn’t even work properly.

It was hard in the beginning, getting used to their personalities and habits, plus all the bitterness among themselves, but slowly, day after day, you started to like them, they started to feel like family, people you were comfortable to be around.

You liked Duff’s jokes, and the way Steven would always keep you company when going to the beach, you liked the way Axl would come up with a different nickname for you every day, just to let Izzy pissed, always making you laugh. And oh, Izzy, how was it good to have him around, always looking up for each other.

But the one you had gotten closer to was Slash. You couldn’t simply choose one thing you liked more about him… you loved everything. You loved the way he’d get excited and talk for hours about his passions in life, the way he’d always make you smile, the way he smiled, and how his curls bounced when he moved around. 

You had fallen in love with him, long time ago, and you simply couldn’t hold yourself from spending the last minutes of your day imagining how it would be to be with him, to be his, to feel his fingers against your skin, or to hear him calling you baby, or-

“Y/N!” 

Duff’s voice cut your thoughts.

“What?”

“Your date’s here!” He shouted from the living room.

You sighed loudly, getting your purse and slowly walking towards the main door. 

Slash didn’t like you, he would always see you as Izzy’s little sister, or so you thought…. 

So here you were, about to go on a date with Travis, your co-worker, who had been asking for a chance for months now. 

“Call me if anything happens, ok?” 

You gave Izzy a thumbs up, before opening the door. 

Travis was leaning against his car, his arms crossed in front of his body as he looked at you, his mouth parting a little when he checked out your outfit.

“Ready?” He asked, opening the door for you.

“Yeah.” 

---

About an hour had passed since you arrived at the restaurant, you had already eaten and Travis was telling you what seemed to be the most exciting story about his childhood, but you just couldn’t listen.

A song playing in the background made your mind travel to Slash’s face, and then to his voice, and you silently damned the universe for being cruel enough to not give you a chance to be with him. 

“.... and you’re not listening,”

Your head snapped towards Travis. 

“Huh?.... Sorry, I was-”

“Thinking about someone else.” He finished for you.

You didn’t say anything. How could you justify yourself, being transparent enough that he knew you didn’t really want to be there.

“I always wondered why you didn’t give me a chance, and then Joan said you liked this guy, but I thought that maybe if we went on a date you’d… I don't know… start liking me, maybe?” 

He laughed at himself. 

“I’m- I’m sorry, Travis.”  You looked down.

“It’s ok, Y/N. It’s not your fault.”

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. 

Why can’t things be easier? Why can’t I just like someone who likes me? You thought.

“Do you want me to drive you home now, or do you want to get dessert first?” He offered you a smile, trying to lift your mood. “Their cheesecake is awesome! You gotta try it!”

You thought for a second.

“Hey, it’s not because it didn’t work out that we can’t be friends.” He shrugged. 

“Cheesecake sounds good.” You said after a few seconds.

---

You left your shoes by the door as you quietly walked to your room. It was around 9 pm and you were sure the boys had left for some nearby bar.

Entering your room you screamed startled when you turned the lights on and found someone on your bed, Slash, more precisely.

“Slash! What the hell are you doing here?”

He looked up at you through his curls, placing a bottle of cheap whisky on your night table. He seemed as startled as you, as if he didn’t expect you to be there so soon. He had a piece of paper that looked like a picture in his hand.

“Shit, sorry, Y/N, I just…” He didn't seem to be drunk, even though the bottle was half empty.

“It’s okay.” 

You placed your bag on a dresser before sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“What’re you doing here, Slash?” You asked quietly.

“I was just… looking at this picture.” 

He moved to sit beside you, showing you a picture of the two of you together. 

“It’s a good picture.” You smiled, remembering the day it had been taken.

“Yeah…”

There was silence for a second, both of you staring ahead, avoiding each other’s gaze, too afraid that the other would be able to read your eyes and see all you had been hiding. 

“How was your date?” He asked.

“It didn’t work out.” You said after some seconds.

“Shame.” He looked at you.

“Yeah.” You looked back at him.

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever and then he slowly started to lean in, his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath against your face, so you closed the distance between the two of you, kissing his lips delicately.

Soon he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands pulled you closer. You could taste the whisky in his tongue as it explored every inch of your mouth. 

“Give me a chance.” He said when you pulled apart. “I know that I’m not boyfriend material and that you deserve someone much better, but if you give me a chance, I promise you that I’ll make you happy.”

You would never be able to describe the happiness that filled your heart when you heard that. A huge smile appeared on your face and for a second you thought you would cry. That was all you had ever wanted to hear and you couldn’t believe that it was true. 

“I- I thought you didn’t like me back.”

“Of course I do! I always did. But I knew that Izzy would get pissed and that I would end up hurting you- but, Y/N, I swear that I won’t,  I’ll give you my best! I promise!”

“I know, Saul, I believe in you.” You cupped his face with your hands, pulling him closer for another kiss.

Thank you for reading this <3

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Add yourself to my tag list :)

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Another One (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! Pre-Civil War (but getting much closer). Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Another One”. Let me know your thoughts! Also, I do have the next part done as it was the first one I wrote a while ago, would you all be interested in me posting it earlier or should I save it for usual post time on its own day?

Summary: A look at the aftermath of heartbreak and the first interaction with Wanda following the incident.  Good old fashioned angst.

“Congratulations, you found the one, another one. I think I can finally face it, I’m not the one, never was the one.”

The sunlight that slowly began seeping into your room came as no surprise. You sat up with a sigh. Sleepless nights were more common than not these days, not that sleeping was easy before, it’s just been much more difficult to put your mind at ease lately. It had been a few weeks and the adjustment hadn’t been easy. 

Dealing with a heartbreak never got easier. 

Figuring there was no point in staying in bed, you got dressed in your usual training attire and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe you would finally take Steve up on his offer of an early morning run.

A quiet curse escaped your lips when you saw a lone figure sitting at the counter already. The one person you’ve been avoiding. As quietly as you could, you slowly began to back out, hoping you hadn’t been seen yet. “Hi, Y/n.” the figure said quietly, not turning to face you. You’d been caught.

The sound of her voice still hurt, but you knew you had to face it eventually. Might as well be now. “Wanda.” You replied flatly as you once again began to walk into the kitchen to make coffee. All the while trying to ignore the way your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage. 

You didn’t look at her long, but long enough to see the look of surprise cross her features when you responded. 

She cleared her throat which caused you to turn to glance at her again, taking note of how she spun a ring on her finger nervously. You wondered if she did that before meeting you. “Do you think we could talk?” she stuttered timidly. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The way that her eyes filled with sadness made you want to take her in your arms and hold her until they shone with happiness again. You fought the urge. “I miss you-“ She began anyway.

You quickly interrupted her. “Don’t.”

A hint of desperation slipped into her words as you tried to block them out. “I do though. We were best friends before everything. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

It took everything in your being to not cover your ears and scream like a child so you wouldn’t have to listen to her words. All each word accomplished  was cutting deeper into your still bleeding wounds. “You moved on immediately, Wanda. You can’t just expect me to be okay and accept second best after that.”

Her head dropped. “I know, but I just… You were never…” her words were jittery, as if she thought better of each sentence. Conflict was clear in her eyes. “I never thought of you as-”  

“You’re with Vision now, yes?” You asked seemingly randomly. She bit her lip apprehensively but nodded nonetheless. “How do you feel about him?”

A small shake of her head was your only response from her. “You wanted to talk, I’m talking. I think I deserve a little honesty.” 

“We have a connection, I feel like he understands me.” You bit back a bitter laugh because once upon a time you would’ve described your relationship the same way. “I think we are meant to be intertwined because of how we developed.”

“Well, congratulations, Wanda. You found the one.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that laced your words. “Another one.” You mumbled as an afterthought. 

She just stared at you for a moment, her lips trembling. You pretended you didn’t see the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Y/n-“

Already over the conversation, you interrupted her. “Honestly, I’m happy for you. I’d never, ever, wish you harm. Just make sure you treat him like someone. I wouldn’t want someone else to feel how I’ve felt the last few weeks.” You told her honestly. 

It looked as though she was about to say something else when Vision phased through the wall, starling you both as he looked between you. “Am I interrupting something?” he questioned.

You wanted to laugh at the sheer irony of his words because it wasn’t long ago that you were the one asking that same exact question. “Not at all.” You huffed as you started to walk out the kitchen, your coffee long forgotten. 

You chanced one last glance at Wanda who simply looked down and leaned into Vision. “Wow, I dodged a bullet.” You muttered with a bitter laugh as you exited, not sparing either of them another moment.

Deciding you didn’t need to go with Steve anymore, you quickened your pace as you left the compound, taking off in what was almost a sprint as soon as the fresh air hit your face. 

Flashbacks of moments with Wanda kept racing through your mind, making you want to scream. Each time this happened you just quickened your pace. You hoped that maybe running from your thoughts would work just this once (it didn’t). 

You must have been running for over an hour when the sounds of heavy footsteps approached, “On your left!” With a groan you came to a halt as Steve sprinted passed you, looking back in confusion. “Giving up so easily, Y/ln?”

Without a word you walked over to a grassy area of the park and rolled onto your back, flinging your arm over your eyes. “Not in the mood today, Rogers.”

You felt him take a seat next to you, staying silent for a moment as he just observed you. “Wanda again?” he questioned gently. 

The arm over your face shifted so you could meet his worried eyes. “I spoke to her today.”

It was clear he was surprised, but tried to mask it. “It’s been weeks. How’d that go?”

“Not well. She basically told me she wants to be my friend again and how her and Vision are meant to be.” Your defenses fell around Steve and you couldn’t contain it anymore. A tear fell down your cheek and you shook your head angrily at yourself. “Why am I crying? I shouldn’t be crying.” 

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice gentle. “You have every right to feel like this okay. You didn’t deserve what she did. Just take it one day at a time, okay?”

At his words, the tears began flowing more steadily. “That’s what I used to tell her.” You said with a laugh, your heart clenching. 

He slapped a hand to his forehead at his poor choice of words. “Alright. No more moping. We’re going to take your mind off this.” Without warning, he picked you up and began jogging back in the direction of the tower.

“Rogers!” you shouted, pounding on his back. “What the hell? Put me down, right now!”

Despite your words, Steve kept jogging, laughter in his voice. “No, I don’t think I will.”

After a few hours of Steve’s idea of a distraction (which was just hours of extra intense training) F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came on over the speakers. “Ms. Y/ln, you have a phone call.” 

“Patch them through.” You answered as you wiped the sweat off your brow with a towel that Steve offered you. He gestured that he was going to be back, and you merely nodded back at him. 

There was static for a moment until an all too familiar voice sounded. “Y/n, I was hoping you had a moment.” Nick Fury began formally.

You took a deep breath, Fury rarely ever called. This must be serious. “Go ahead.” You replied.

                                             _______________

“Okay, repeat that back to me because I feel like I’m imagining this.” Steve told you, the look of disbelief from when you first told him the news still present as ever.

You shrugged. “Fury wants me to help run an undercover mission to get victims out of several Hydra facilities and aid in their adjustment with training once they’re out if they need it. Similarly to how I got here. Then possibly help establish a branch overseas like what we have here.”

“How long would you be there?” Steve questioned seriously.

Again, you shrugged. “Fury said it could take a year or two. Possibly indefinitely.”

Heavy silence hung in the air between you as Steve took in your words. “Are you going to take it?” he finally asked.

For a moment, you didn’t want to answer, but you knew you couldn’t avoid telling him. “I think I am.” You finally replied quietly. “I think I’ve fulfilled my purpose here, Cap. Maybe it’s time to start a new chapter.”

Steve understood he couldn’t argue. If leaving meant you could finally heal then he wouldn't stop you. No matter how much he’d rather you stay. “Just consider all your options is all I ask.” You simply nodded and tried to offer a reassuring smile. 

As you were both exiting the training area you crossed paths with Wanda and Sam who were entering for a different training session. She met your eyes and offered you a small wave. You nodded in response, searching her eyes. Searching for something that you knew you might never find again. Her brow furrowed questioningly as she sensed you analyzing her. You finally tore your gaze away, silent understanding between you two was a thing of the past now. 

“You okay?” Steve asked with a frown of concern once you were both far enough away.

Hesitantly, you nodded. “I think I’m ready to face it… I’m not the one.” Your words were steady. The tone of acceptance.

“Y/n-“ 

You shook your head. “I never was the one.” You said in a neutral voice, trying to ignore the tears welling in your eyes.

“You just made your mind up, didn’t you?” Steve questioned quietly, knowing the answer but needing to ask either way.

A weak smile covered your lips. “I think that I’ve been offered different chances for what I need in life. You offered me a hand to save me from drowning before and I took it. I think this opportunity is the hand that’s going to keep me afloat. To get me through this broken heart. I need to take it.” 

For a moment you thought back to the conversation you had with Wanda once on the roof. The conversation that opened your heart to her and revealed your scars. The true beginning of something beautiful. That moment was a thing of your past now, just as she was. Maybe it was time to let go. Time to try and stay afloat once again. After all, there was nothing else left for you to fight for here.

And there is part 6! The paths are beginning to take form. As always, hope you all enjoyed and remember thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

[concerningwolves]

This August marks 5 years that I've been part of the writeblr community and I want to spread the love! I'm going around prompting writers to share some old writing, side by side with newer works, so that we can all celebrate how far we've come.

Respond to this ask or tag me (@westywrites) in a post showing some old writing, and I'll reblog it to shower you with praise for the progress you've made.

And if you'd like, help me encourage others to do the same! 

Oooh this is very cool idea 👀 (also, same hat! August marks my five year writeblr/Tumblr anniversary too!).

I forever regret that I used to routinely purge my laptop of projects that'd been abandoned or on hiatus for too long. It was only in 2014 that I started keeping things, and even then I must've been really picky about what I kept, because there's only one piece of writing from 2014-2016 in there despite my being more prolific in that time period than any other :(

The old writing:

However, I do still have (almost) all of my old notebooks, so! Here's the opening of a story called Vultures Class, the first book I ever finished. I wrote it somewhere between the ages of 7–9 (while in first school, and also while obsessed with X-Men animated series and X-Men: Evolution). Corrected spelling and added paragraphs for readability's sake, but everything else is as written.

Chapter one: the Dream One night a young boy screamed and yelled in his sleep. Then suddenly he awoke. A voice in the flesh was saying "wake up". He immediately snapped awake startled and breathing so fast that it was like being in very thin mountain air. "Don't worry" Emma was saying for she was the young girl who owned the voice. "Ensiy what's up?" asked new team member Clara. "I ... I have no idea well er well yes I had this very scary dream" stumbled Ensiy (Ensiy is the young boy who starts this story) "Well well well we can't have a leader who's going to yell in his sleep" teased Clone. He had been going round teasing all the team members ever since he started two weeks ago which was very annoying because it was making everyone grumble about him to Professor White.

Bonus: this was an illustrated book

The new writing:

And for my newer writing, here's a snippet from a free-to-read low fantasy short story of mine, The Seal Daughter. I posted it at the start of 2022, but it took me about two years to write and polish so it isn't technically the newest thing I've written – I'm just very proud of it.

Briana’s new red boots flashed in the sun as she ran down the steep cliff path. She was four years old today, practically a grownup. Her whole world was the sea, the sky, the salty air, and all of it was open to her like a flower to the sun. Da was somewhere behind her, calling out for her to slow down, but Briana paid him no heed. ‎ The previous night’s storm had died away, leaving behind clear skies and ravaged earth. The path beneath her feet was still slick where the rain had washed across loose dirt, revealing small rocks that jutted from the ground like teeth. Her foot struck one of these rocks. Briana’s world blurred. Faster and faster she fell, until she couldn’t tell where her skin ended and the unforgiving stones began. She didn’t even have a chance to scream. Something soft broke the fall as abruptly as it began. For a long time, Briana could only lie there. Stunned. White spots danced in front of her eyes. She couldn’t make sense of what had happened, what was still happening: The fall was over, but something was very, very wrong. A thick stench filled Briana’s nose. Bitter, foul, almost coppery. She lifted a hand in front of her face. Something red dripped from her fingers onto her cheek. She stared at it, trying to make sense of the new, fizzing sensation churning in her gut. Its fizziness reminded her of excitement – but excitement had never made her feel sick before. Then her father was there, lifting her out of the gore. He hadn’t called her Briana then; he’d used her not-name, whispering it over and over as he rubbed her back. Looking over his shoulder through teary eyes, Briana saw dark shapes down on the thin strip of beach between the base of the cliffs and the waves. They were seals, but Briana had never seen seals lie so still and calm. The surf that swirled around them was pink. Da was walking fast, the beach swiftly growing smaller, but he wasn’t fast enough. Briana’s gaze locked on a patch of light amongst the dark, silent forms. A face. It was small and seafoam-pale, a single blue eye staring out from locks of matted hair. Briana felt that eye watching her for a long time after Da turned a bend in the path and the beach vanished from view.

Thank you for this ask, it was a lot of fun! (even though rereading Vulture Class always fills me with an indescribable yet excruciating emotion 😂)

[shoutogepi]

Pull of the Moon

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.8k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), werewolf!au ]  

themes : masturbation, licking/biting, dom!Kiri, rough sex, dirty talk, slight choking, friends to lovers, confession

bio : Eijirou makes sure he’s far away from you for when the heat cycle strikes, but just when he thinks your friendship is safe from his monstrous hormones, there you are at his doorstep.

author’s note : so this is a fic that i wrote years ago for my kpop blog, linked in my bio. i wanted to repost it here for bnha, just bc i like the way i wrote it and i think it’s pretty fitting character-wise for Kiri! plus im a slut for werewolf fics. and also i wanted to post something while work is keeping me from writing something 100% new rn :3 pls note this is NOT plagiarized as I am the original author of the original fic.

side note : if there are any places where it says Jae, Jaebum, etc. lemme know bc it was a quick job i did converting this to a Kiri fic lol like even the title is the same oops

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂o you’re sure you have to leave for tonight, Y/N?” Kirishima inquires, tilting his head in his open palm to crane his bright gaze up toward your face.  

“Yeah, I don’t think I can get out of visiting my parents for dinner this time,” you reply, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you cuddle your chin into the warmth of Kirishima’s oversized scarf. The soft fabric grazes under your nose, and your eyes close blissfully as you inhale Kirishima’s strong, spicy aroma mingled with his cologne.

Kirishima watches you through slitted eyes, secretly pleased at your actions. Not that he would ever tell you, because that would be weird. He shuts his eyes tightly, telling himself in his head not to overthink it. Of course you like how he smells, he’s your friend. Friends like how each other smell… right? His body shivers as your fingers naturally slide into his thick, red hair. His face slides down as his body turns to jello, leaning completely on top of the table in complete euphoria at the feeling of your touch. If there was a price to have your hands on him for every hour of the day, he would pay it a thousand times over. His lips part as his jaw instinctively unhinges at your undivided attention like a newborn puppy, chin angling when your fingers slide down to the side of his jaw you brush just underneath it before pulling away.  

“Eiji, I really do have to go,” you murmur, fingers retreating from his form as he lets out a low whine. One of his warm eyes opens, scowling at you playfully.

“Okay,” he sighs when you push out your chair and begin to gather your things. He places some money on the table before following you out of the coffee shop. “I’m jealous, please bring me some of your mom’s noodles. You know how much I like them, and her.“

“I will Eiji. But you’re lucky you’re not coming, because all they ever do is gush about what a cute couple we’d be and it always ends up being weird,” you trail off, nodding to yourself.

Kirishima nods too but his heart jumps at you thinking of him as an intimate partner.

“By the way, thanks for the latte. And tell Mina hello for me when you see her tonight,” you laugh with a suggestive wink.

Kirishima rolls his eyes. “You know I’m only spending the night with her to help her with her… issues."

You smack his arm and scoff. “As if that’s a burden to you! At least you’re spending the night having fun. I’m just gonna be answering the million questions my parents will be asking about you the whole time and falling asleep in my bed by myself."

“It’s not my fault I’m so lovable,” he banters, a cheeky grin splicing between his lips, trying to shake the image of you alone in bed out of his imaginative mind.

“Say that to you baku-squad,” you retort, the two of you now standing in front of the cafe as you linger before your journey to the bus station.

“Hey— wait, is that my scarf?” Kirishima asks, pretending to notice just now when he really did the moment you walked in two hours ago. But you looked so cute all bundled up in his scarf that he decided not to say anything, content to see you warm and happy in his own clothing.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” you unwrap it from your neck and Kirishima gazes at the newly-revealed skin there with longing, forgetting about the scarf. “Eiji?"

He snaps out of it. “What? Oh— the scarf.. Keep it, I was just teasing,” he mumbles as you hook the material around the back of his neck. He’s considerably tall, massive frame towering over you so much that you have to strain your arms to fling the material onto his shoulders.

“That’s okay Eiji... you look cute in it, so wear it for Mina,” you smile half-heartedly, tugging the fabric at the ends to coil around his throat snugly. “Don’t worry about me."

“I always worry about you, Y/N,” Kirishima gazes into your eyes with a passionate longing undetectable to you. Not Mina, he wants to add.

“Well, don’t, Red, I’ll be okay. I always am,” you trace his jaw slowly with a finger before your hands fall at your sides, brushing off your coat.  

Kirishima nods hesitantly, falling into a quiet, comfortable pace beside you.  

Your boots quickly become cold as the two of you trudge through the slush from leftover snow, the bitter winter breeze chilling your nose and ears. Sooner than either of you would like, you’ve reached the bus station. Kirishima shuffles from foot to foot, arguing with himself as to if he should ask you to stay and have dinner with him instead of going on the hour-long ride to your parents’.  

“Are you sure this is okay? You don’t want me to come with you? Or I can drive you. The roads aren’t that great tonight… Mina will understand. She doesn’t— We’re not dating, you know— me and her, I mean, I only… help her as a friend.. So I can cancel, and she won’t have any issues. She has lots of other guy friends,” Kirishima reasons.

“Eiji,” you chuckle, taking your duffel bag from his hand that he’d carried for the journey here, “Mina needs you.”

But I need you, Kirishima thinks as he bites his lip. “Okay… have a safe ride then. And text me when you get there.”  

“Yes, Dad,” you laugh. You slip into his arms easily, almost naturally, and press your face against his chest beneath his wool jacket.  

Kirishima’s arms encircle you immediately, instinctively pulling you to him as his chin falls atop the crown of your head. “I’ll miss you,” he breathes.

“Don’t be weird, Eiji,” you giggle, pulling away from him much too soon for his liking. “See you tomorrow.”  

Kirishima watches you walk into the bus terminal, duffel bag in your hand with his heart unknowingly tucked deep inside of it.

Kirishima paces back and forth between the couch and the dining table. His nerves are shaky and his body uncharacteristically twitchy. He’d been smelling female wolves around the city all day while he was out with you, but he managed to ward them off with icy glares and his steel-strong self-control. It also helped that you were there to distract him, seeing as when he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. But now that he was alone— Mina had cancelled on him to spend the night with an “old friend” that had come back to town— and he was all by himself, he was feeling the full effects of the female wolf hormones he’d breathed in for the past twelve hours.

He closes his eyes as his mind wanders to the image of you wrapped up in his scarf in the cafe; the warm scent of coffee; the condensation on the windows; your light-filled eyes on him; the scent of your freshly-washed hair… He opens his eyes, tongue running over his front teeth as he feels the evident, sharp prod of his elongated cuspids as a result of his piqued interest. He groans, feeling his eyes dilate just the slightest of fractions. He sits on the floor, sliding down the wall with a frown on his plump lips.

Kirishima watches the hands of the clock tick on the wall in front of him for a moment before he shuts his eyes and smacks his head back against the drywall, a loud whine releasing from his throat. The apartment lacks of things that could possibly captivate his attention at the moment; all he can do is think about you— your pretty face, your gentle caress on his skin just hours before. There are no messages from you and his sensitive ears long to hear the chime notification that signifies your safe arrival.  

“Just friends,” he murmurs, “just friends, just friends, just friends."

He tries to breathe in deeply to relax himself, but success quickly slips through his grasp as the scent of you lingers on the scarf casually thrown over the back of the sofa. His jaw clenches as his teeth gnash, taking in your alluring aroma. He tries to think of something— anything else, but he eventually gives up, slamming his palms flat on the hardwood floor as he pushes himself up. He lunges toward the couch, throwing himself onto the open cushions as his hands immediately find the soft cotton. He brings the material to his nose, a low moan falling from his open mouth as the intense smell floods his senses.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, readjusting his hips as he feels his body reacting swiftly to the pull of your scent. He hisses lightly as he feels the blood rush to his pants, wiggling his hips around to feel the delicious friction against his hardening erection. He rubs the inside of his thigh gently with his palm, imagining your small hand instead of his on his jean-clad length. “God, this is so fucked,” he gasps, grip strengthening on himself through his jeans. Originally his plan for the evening consisted of fucking Mina senseless and imagining it was you, but seeing as she had cancelled, this was the next best option.  

Kirishima fumbles with his belt and shimmies out of his jeans, ripping his constrictive t-shirt over his head and whipping it elsewhere into the living room. He kicks the denim off from around his ankles next, one hand holding the soft fabric of the scarf close to his nose and the other trailing toward his throbbing hard-on from the bend of his knee; how he imagines your hand would do.

A feral grunt dislodges from the back of his throat as he pictures your hair falling around your perfectly cherubic face that leans down toward his own, one hand pressing his chest down against the couch cushion and the other hand on his thigh tracing the outline of his cock straining against his briefs. His hips jerk as his forefinger runs from tip to base, his thumb sliding backwards over the previous route to caress the head of his dick gently in circular swipes. He seals his lips together by sucking in the bottom one, his canines lengthened by arousal piercing the soft flesh of the lower lip so that a metal taste floods his mouth, but he only closes his eyes and continues his ministrations.

Kirishima continues to skim the pads of his fingertips over the prominent erection that pushes against his underwear in defiance, face pressed into the back of the sofa so the cushions catch his heavy moans instead of his neighbors. He halts for a moment so he can find a throw pillow to sink his fangs into, positioning the scarf above his lip and against the pillow so it presses right against his hypersensitive nose. A strangled moan tears from him, his hand immediately returning to his leaking hard-on. It dips underneath the band of his boxers before it wraps around his width, squeezing tight. His body shakes and he sucks in a breath, squirming to lay flat against the leather of the sofa. Slowly he moves his hand up to encompass the head, a heavy snarl being lost into the throw pillow. He strokes himself teasingly, thumb trailing behind to caress the aching tip. His hips push into the cushion as his body moves to a natural rhythm, thrusting them up slightly as his fist falls back down toward his abdomen. The thick precum dribbling from his tip lathers his palm so his cock slides into it easily. His eyelashes tickle his high cheekbones as his eyes shut tighter, fingertips tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft.

The sofa wheezes as he shifts, impatiently pushing his briefs down in one tug to rest on his mid-thighs. He scoots off of the sofa and onto the hardwood floor, kneeling as he places his fist onto the tabletop, lining his hips delicately before sliding his length into his firm grasp. He whimpers into the pillow, now damp with his saliva, and hunches over the table, his free arm curled underneath his broad torso. The fabric of the scarf tickles his nose but he inhales deeper, hips pushing in and out of his fist quickly. He imagines you beneath him instead of the table and his fist, moaning with him as his canines sink into your neck to mark you as his and only his. His destitute wails are swallowed by the soft pillow and the scarf as he keeps thrusting steadily, imagination running so wildly he can almost feel your legs on either side of him, pushing him further inside of you.

“Oh, Y/N,” he grunts, cuspids fully lengthened and sharpened now in desire, piercing the soft fabric of the pillow almost enough so his bottom and top teeth could touch through the plush object,” Y/N, I’m gonna—“

Knock knock knock.

Kirishima’s body stills as he opens his eyes, disappointment rushing through him at the sight of the coffee table underneath him. He wants to scream, but he just shuts his eyes, taking a breath in before sliding his hard cock out of his fist and tucking the slick inconvenience back into his boxers. His breath is labored and heavy, but he manages to find his jeans and slip them on anyway. “One sec,” he says loudly, fastening the button before hesitantly wiping his hand on the side of the denim. He can’t help but sulk as he walks over and picks his shirt up from the floor, breathing deeply and hoping his canines aren’t too obvious of an indicator as to what he was just doing… not to mention the angrily-pulsing dick resting against the inside of his thigh.  

He strides toward the door, opening it ready to tell Mina he thought she’d cancel when he’s greeted with your sweet face and the scent of Italian food. His jaw almost hits the floor as he gapes at you, dick pressing longingly against his jeans at your familiar smell, but in person it radiates off of you so strong he almost lunges at you. You’re looking up at him with those bright cheerful eyes he loves, a timid smile on your lips as you swing the takeout bag back and forth behind your back in anticipation.  

“Hi, Eiji,” you smile and set the bag on the ground next to the door before you turn around and take his tense body into your arms, throwing yourself onto him.  

A gasp rips from his throat but quickly turns into a cough, body trembling at your singeing touch. His jaw quivers as he conceals his pointed teeth, angling his thigh away from you strategically. “Y-Y/N, w-what are you doing here?” He manages to ask, lips sealing immediately once the words are pushed out.   His hands remain clenched at his sides; he’s scared that if he touches you now he won’t be able to stop.  

“There was a freak accident on the highway ahead of my bus… We had to turn back. My parents don’t mind though, they said we can reschedule. Maybe you won’t need to miss my mom’s noodles this time; you can come if you want. By the way, I brought Italian!” You smile as you pick up the bag and brush past him, leaving him standing there, looking at the door with a glare.

You move around the sofa and sit on one of the leather cushions, setting the bag onto the coffee table. “Ew Eiji,” he sits next to you stiffly, eyes widening as you reach over to the table and poke a finger into the slick trail of precum that had dribbled out of his fist just moments ago. “What is this? Do you ever clean this apartment?” You giggle, unfolding the paper bag the food had come in and wiping your finger on your skirt. “Anyway, I got food from your favorite place and made sure I got the breadsticks with the extra sauce ‘cause I know you lov—“

A quiet groan escapes Kirishima’s mouth as he puts his head in his hands— your scent, your alluring body, your heart-swelling gaze, just you, being here—it’s too much for his raging hormones.  

“Ei? Are you okay?” You ask, scooting closer and pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. He’s shaking and you don’t know why, so you bring his head to rest against your collar, just above your fluttering heart. “Eiji, you’re burning up…”  

He stays pressed against you, the desperation and torture he felt earlier suddenly fleeting and gone from his body as your own erases them completely. He swallows. It feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong. This is wrong when you’re just his friend and his dick is leaking into his underwear for you as you hold him like this.

“Get out,” Kirishima murmurs, eyes set on the paper bag.  

You still, slowly pulling him. “W-What Eiji?”  

“You need to leave,” he says through his teeth, jaw set tight.  

“Eijirou.. I don’t understand— is this how you treat someone when they bring you your favorite food?” You spit, hands curling into frustrated fists.

Kirishima ignores you, knowing he can apologize tomorrow when he’s in the right mindset but you being here with him at the moment could jeopardize your entire relationship.

“I… Is it… her? Is it Mina?” You murmur, and Kirishima’s gaze turns to you sharply at the drop in your tone. His lips part to say something to soothe your confidence as he sees it shatter. “I didn’t realize— I thought—” you breathe in sharply and shake your head, shooting up from your spot and rushing around the sofa.  

Kirishima beats you to the door, palm reaching over your shoulder to slam it just as you can get it open a sliver. He grabs your biceps, spinning you around and pressing you against the door with his hand as a cushion to break your impact.

“It’s never been Mina,” he snarls, knee splitting your legs and sliding up the gap between your thighs to press against your core; your panties and his jeans the only thing separating your center from his skin.

Your eyes widen and you gasp as his hands cup your face with care, scarlet eyes searing into your own with an intensity you’d never seen before. His pupils are dilating with every second, a black coal seemingly swallowed up by the burning fire of his irises.

“It’s you, Y/N,” he murmurs, eyes shutting into a long blink, and when they open again the red you’re used to is flooded with tendrils of electric amber and yellow. “It’s always been you, and it’ll always be you.”

You gape at him as he holds you there, against his front door, professing his love to you.

“I need you Y/N, I need you so bad it fucking hurts not being able to touch you,” he growls lowly. “If you can’t love me back, you have to leave, now. I don’t want your lust, I can smell it from here,” his honeyed eyes roll back as he takes in a whiff of the wanton-perfumed air around you, mouth parting and you watch his pink tongue slide over his elongated canines, feeling a tremor between your legs. His eyes open and they set straight on yours with a certain determination. 

“I can’t wake up next to you tomorrow and have tonight be just for friends with benefits. I love only you, Y/N,” Kirishima delivers, voice never quivering,“now tell me you feel the same, or go.”

There’s a slight fragility in his gaze that begs you not to break his heart. He peers into you at such a small distance that you can see every brilliant fleck of gold in his sinful eyes, warm ginger bursting around the outer ridges of his irises that focus solely on you. The dim lighting casts stretched shadows from his long, dark lashes; his bronzed skin glowing subtly to intensify his passionate gaze.

“Kirishima,” you place a hand on his clenched but trembling jaw, tilting your face to look him in the eye better. “You’ve been hurting all this time for no reason.”  

His scarlet gaze lights with hope and happiness. “Say it then,” he whispers, words soft and nearly begging, as if he fears if his voice is too loud he’ll wake from a dream.

“Kirishima Eijirou, I love you, too. God, I have beein in love with you for so long,” you reply, and he wastes no time as his mouth descends upon yours. He presses your lips to his passionately, hands resting on your hips and rubbing the smooth skin there underneath your blouse. You gasp as they guide your hips gently in circles against his kneecap, your mouth falling open at his forward actions. He takes advantage of your open mouth and darts his tongue in, tangling it with yours in a powerful embrace.  

His steady clutch on your waist drags your body up his clothed thigh, and a soft, unabashed moan falls from your lips at the action. The taut muscle of his leg between his jeans and your panties rubs graciously against your flustered center, making your head loll back to rest against the door.  

“Don’t do that,” Kirishima groans, a hand leaving your warm hip and tilting your head forward once again to look at him directly. His fingers trail against your smooth neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath the tender skin. His palm curls softly around the back of your neck, pressing you closer to him as his other arm hooks underneath your bottom. You squeak in surprise and cling to him, legs wrapping around his midsection and core pressing upon his rigid erection.  

You look at him with wide eyes as he throws his head back, sucking in air harshly between his clenched jaw. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses, holding you tighter and stalking over to the sofa. He places you in between the two cushions, standing in front of you and looking down, breathing laboriously before he tilts his head back again, willing for some kind of miraculous strength to get him through the night without sealing you to him forever.

“How come you get to do that and I don’t?” You frown as he looks down at you before he crouches, his face dropping just below your own to gaze up at you.  

“Because you don’t have the urge to sink your three-centimeter canines into my throat,” his upper lip curls back as he shows you the result of his attraction to you.  

You look at him with unintentionally pouted lips, batting your eyelashes as you take in his words. Isn’t that how werewolves marry or something? You think. Kirishima had explained it all once before, one night when you were both wasted at three in the morning at some bar on the outskirts of the city.  

“God, can you look unattractive for one second while I try to pull myself together?” Kirishima groans, a hand running through his disheveled hair.

“Who said I want you to pull yourself together?” You inquire, scooting toward the lip of the cushion.  

Kirishima looks at you warily with an underlying, longing hunger before you place your hands on either side of his sharp jaw and bring his lips to yours. Your eyes close immediately and his blissfully, your hands gliding down his neck to his broad chest. You grapple onto his wide shoulders, one hand burying into the hair at the base of his neck to push him into the kiss even more.  

His throat vibrates gently with an almost-inaudible growl, and you part his tender lips with a swipe of your tongue, the pink muscle coasting in and gently feeling the warm, smooth hardness of his cuspids.

Kirishima untucks your blouse in one pull, fingers nimbly undoing each button before sliding the clothing off your shoulders and tossing it away. His hands lay strategically on your ribs, fingertips brushing the underwire of your bra just barely.  

He pulls you forward into his arms, hands splaying onto your back with delight, fingers undoing the fastening between your shoulder blades with glee. You lean into him as he flings the bra in the direction of the blouse, mouth instantly latching to your breast and tongue twirling around the swollen bud. You wail, pushing him closer as his teeth bump against your nipple and his lips grow taut with a warm smirk, depraved gaze intense as ever.

You want more than ever to throw your head back onto the top of the sofa, but you know you’re forbidden to do so. Instead, you slide your body further down onto the cushions, hips brushing against Kirishima’s torso as his mouth leaves your nipples, your face coming to a stop directly in front of his. Your hands cup his angular jaw again, coaxing his lips onto yours into an ardent kiss. His long eyelashes flutter against your blushed cheeks, his coarse hair drifting softly through your digits.  

His hands land on your rolling hips, scuttling closer on his knees so his crotch feels the steady rhythm. He hums, a primitive trembling in his throat that sounds more like a soft growl. Your hands fall to the hem of his snug t-shirt, which he gladly expels into the corner toward your blouse and bra. You lean back a bit and admire his toned form. His broad chest, pectorals curving dramatically to his wide shoulders seamlessly; the v shape tapering down to the top of his jeans; the faint trail of dark hair waning below the brass button to his jeans; the way his abdominal muscles flex with each heavy breath; the salient outline against his thigh that both he and you know aches for your attention.  

You can’t help yourself. You reach between his strong thighs, fingers skimming along the bulge mockingly. Kirishima’s head rolls full circle, hand clutching your wrist tightly as he stares into you, lips parting and hot pink tongue gliding along his white, sharp teeth. “That was very naughty of you,” he murmurs, honeyed eyes darkening to a burnt orange. Trepidation ignites in your heart, but also desire floods your senses as well as your panties.  

“Eijirou,” you breathe and his lip curls back into a snarl, a loud growl releasing from his throat. His nostrils flare and he swallows harshly.  

“Say it again,” he orders, leaning into your face.

“E-Eijirou,” it comes out as a whisper, but his sensitive ears hear the slight whine to your tone, and his cock jumps at the sound against your eager fingertips. “You like it when I say your name, Eiji?”  

His tongue runs swiftly over his lip, his eyeing your chest hips hungrily. His hand reached forward on its own accord, sliding effortlessly under the soft material of your skirt to press against your warmed, wet panties. His lips curve into a devious smirk, fangs poking out slightly as his dark, copper-tainted eyes set on yours. “Mmm, and you like it when I growl for you, baby girl?”  

“God, yes Eiji,” you answer and gulp at his overwhelming intensity. He trains his gaze to the movement of your fragile throat, tongue flicking around one canine subconsciously. A deep purr of sorts emanates from him in approval, making your legs tremble and press together around his intruding forearm.  

He smiles devilishly, white teeth glinting in the dim lighting. His other hand circles round your back, pushing your tailbone so your body slides forward on the couch, to the very edge of the cushion. His fingers nudge your thong aside, immediately met with your poignant arousal. The tips of his middle and ring finger separate your folds facilely, gliding over your entrance and clit making you bite your lip to hold in an impatient moan. “Oh baby, you’re so wet for me,” he chuckles. “If only we’d figured this out sooner.”

“Eiji, fuck,” you cry when he rubs your clit gently, your jaw trembling as you sag against his arm’s firm hold and the back of the sofa. You can’t throw your head back so you lean forward, elbows falling on Kirishima’s generous shoulders, the side of your face against his soft hair as his tongue guides a pebbled nipple into his mouth, caressing it slowly and pressing it against his teeth. You whimper pathetically, his thumb replacing his fingers as they slide down and glide half-way right into your awaiting entrance.  

He hooks the two fingers and presses repeatedly, making you shove his face closer to your breasts in pleasure. He slides them deeper, knuckles lapping against your slick entrance as his tongue works diligently on your nipple. You clench around him and moan loudly at the depth his fingers achieve, the feeling of total ecstasy near. It had been a long time since a man had touched you, and it was no where near as incredible as having Kirishima’s thick fingers rubbing inside you.

“Eijirou, that feels so—” you warn but he only picks up the pace. He leans down, tongue replacing his thumb smoothly and you almost scream. He strokes your clit fervently, tongue lapping persistently up and down as his long canines brush on either side, his fingers curling and straightening at the same pace. “Fuck Eiji— I’m seriously gonna cum,” you pant, falling back against the back of the sofa.  

He looks up at you mischievously, dark eyes alight with arousal and a touch of humor. You feel his full lips in a smirk as he wraps them around your clit, tongue lavishing it faster. One hand falls to his hair, gripping it tight as the other curls against your mouth, your eyes shutting tight as your orgasm smashes against you like a wave crashing down upon you. You moan, body quivering in Kirishima’s strong grip, wiggling pointlessly against the sofa cushions.  

Kirishima doesn’t cease until you’ve returned from your high, standing up and unfastening his jeans quickly, pushing them down and kicking them off when they reach his ankles. You sit up from your slumped position, hands landing on his thighs and traveling around to rub the backs of them in anticipation. Kirishima watches you hungrily, his thick cock longing for your attention. You lean forward, almost touching where he wants you most, before you look up at him and give him your most innocent doe eyes you can muster after having his sinful session on you just moments before. You bat your lashes and he growls loudly, fists clenching at his sides.  

“Y/N,” he advises, tone a little menacing. You tilt your head and press your lips against his erection through his briefs, a low groan sounding from above you. You kiss down toward the tip and back up to the base of his shaft before you reach up and untuck him, briefs sliding to the hardwood floor. You smirk as you look at what you’ve done to him. His dick is throbbing gently as you rest it against a palm, beads of translucent-white precum adorning the tip of the red, swollen tip. You repeat your kiss trail on his bare skin, his cock twitching at the action as you feel the vein underneath contract harshly. When you reach the base your tongue pokes out, tracing up and down the prominent vein on the underside.  

Kirishima watches you with a dark, maleficent gaze, throat tightening and a growl tumbling out when you take the head into your mouth, sucking teasingly as your tongue dances around the leaking tip. “Fuck yes, baby girl. Just like that."

You retreat with a loud pop, smiling up at him and his heart flutters in his chest at the pureness of it. With an open mouth you glide your tongue along the sides of him to slicken his entire length before your lips encompass the tip and suddenly his dick is touching the back of your throat and you don’t even seem to mind. Kirishima lets out a strangled moan of shock, watching your head bob energetically up and down his hot length. He watches you in awe for a few minutes, just dazed this is really happening and he’s not waking up abruptly like when he’d dreamt this scenario so many nights before.  

He snaps out of it suddenly, aware his cock is tensing the way it does when he’s about to cum. You’d noticed, too, at the feel of the harsh, bulging vein on the under-shaft, slowing down to a halt and leaning back to catch your breath.

“Baby you did so good,” he praises, hands cupping your face and you beam at him proudly. “Now take off your skirt for me.”  

You comply eagerly, shimmying out of the cotton garment, your thong following close behind. Kirishima smugly watches the stings of your arousal snap as your panties are thrown onto the floor, fist stroking his length slowly to keep himself at bay.

“Turn,” he instructs, other hand guiding you to face away from him,” knees on the couch, now.”  

You do as told, looking back at him over your shoulder expectantly. He smiles and steps forward, and your back arches as you feel his length glide against your dripping entrance.  

“Be a good girl for me, okay? Do not let me get anywhere near your throat, got it? If I do, I’ll sink my teeth into you so fast you won’t know what’s happening. And then you’re stuck with me for life. So watch out for yourself, baby. This is your only warning,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear before a hand lands on your hip and suddenly he’s pushing into you, a gasp tearing from your throat as he stretches you to your capacity. When his hips bump against your ass your eyes have already rolled back in delirium, your lip falling open in shock.  

He pulls out half-way before sheathing back inside slowly, a whine releasing from your mouth. His hand remains on your hip while the other grabs a fistful of your hair, trailing out again before snapping in. The tip of his cock nestles so deep in you that tears dot along your bottom lashes; the feeling is so blissful and fulfilling that your emotions skyrocket.  

“Eijirou— oh, yes,” you whimper as he repeats the action, movements still paced and measured to help you adjust to his size.

“Feel good, baby? ‘Cuz this feels amazing for me— you feel amazing on me, Y/N,” he grunts, fingers gripping the skin of your hip tighter as he angles your face so he can see it with his other hand.  

“Yes, fuck yes, you feels so good,” you commend as the pace intensifies, making a moan spill out of you. He groans from behind you, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your other hip to keep you steady. You clutch onto the top of the sofa tightly as he pounds into you, and you gasp as a hand leaves your hip for a moment and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, making your back arch into Kirishima’s grasp. You’re babbling now, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. “Oh god—ohgodohgodohgodohgod.”

Kirishima hisses as he watches the bright pink mark on your ass cheek tremble as his hips slam against yours, bottom lip tucked under his offending cuspids. He licks his lip to keep from drooling onto you, eyes trained on your perfect figure that he’s fucking into the sofa. Pleasure courses through his body, intensified at the sound and obvious proof of your own satisfaction as he thrusts into you quickly.  

“Again,” you lament softly, and if he hadn’t been a werewolf with keen hearing he wouldn’t have heard your request over the assaulting sound of your skin slapping against his. He delivers and slaps your other cheek sharply, a lustful mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you.  

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby,” Kirishima admires, smirking as you turn slightly to look at him. He grabs your shoulder and pulls your torso back, slamming it against his as his other hand wraps around your throat snugly to stop his innate temptation to leave his mark there. The other hand leaves your arm and instead bands around your waist, pressing you flush against him. His hips retreat and pound into you in the new position, and you rest your head back onto his shoulder since your neck is safe from his view with his large hand covering it.

You stare into each other as he continues, and you move your hips back as he moves his in, making each thrust more powerful. His lips find yours and they mould easily, your hand coming up to caress his jaw and press his face closer to yours.

“Eiji, your cock feels so good,” you pant between his kisses and potent strokes, “God, you’re so big.”

“Mmm, I love when you talk dirty to me,” Kirishima murmurs against your mouth, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.  

It’s fucked up but his tight hold on your throat is only turning you on more, making your eyes close as each thrust feels better than the last.

“Fuck, Ei,” you groan, slouching back against his toned form as the pleasure is too great.  

“Here, baby,” he says, cock slipping out of you before picking you up, walking briskly out of the common space and into a hallway, then finally into his bedroom. He shuts the door with his foot, laying you gently onto his messy bedsheets and blankets. He rolls you over onto your stomach before he climbs on top of you, hovering above you before he slips back in with ease.  

You moan and tuck your face into the sheets that smell like him, his arms bracing on either side of your head as his forearms rest next to yours, elbows bent and fists clenched. His hips swing effortlessly into yours, making a loud, crude slapping sound echo around the room. You moan almost pathetically into the sheets, turning to lay your face to the side so Kirishima can hear your noises of pleasure. He kisses your cheek sweetly before moving to your jaw and nibbling there gently, his tempo still quick and lethal. His tip, nestled deep inside, assaults your g-spot and you purr in content at the sensation, a gasp escaping you as he plunges in a little more forcefully. His hand wraps around your throat again, lifting your head up as his lips meet yours tenderly. His tongue plays with yours gently, a stark contrast to your hips. The hold on your throat is firm but also soft, and his thumb brushes along your jawline as his fingertips push into your racing pulse.

His hand leaves you and suddenly you’re on your back, Kirishima dragging your body up the bed so your head lays on the pillows. He smiles widely before he swoops in and his lips take yours again. His cock glides right back in, and you moan loudly into the kiss as the tip brushes your g-spot at a different angle than before. Your pussy quivers around him as he picks up the pace again, one arm folding under and around your waist and the other holding your chin, elbow digging into the mattress to keep himself propped up. His kisses trail from your lips to your chin and jaw, tongue sliding out and lathering your skin gently. Your eyes open as it slides down your throat, and the slight point of his canines poke against your skin. You quickly take his head in your hands, guiding his lips back to yours.  

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he murmurs against your lips, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, breath heavy as his exhausted hips keep up the erratic pace against yours. He whimpers as your walls constrict around him firmly.  

“I’m close, too, Eiji,” you mumble, legs folding around his waist, your arms tangling around his torso with your hands on each shoulder blade, fingernails gripping his slick skin. One of his hands is pressed into the sheets by your shoulder, propping him up, and the other is going white on your hip from his tight hold.  

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he snarls, voice low and resonating with a growl. You watch his abdomen accordion as he flexes in and out of you with apparent effort, drops of sweat gliding down his broad chest. He throws his head back and whines as your nails dig into his strong shoulder muscles, chasing his imminent ecstasy.  

Watching his body tremble and exert itself to bring you to your euphoria pushes you toward your own climax, and the feeling of his hand on your hip and the way his lip pinches between his teeth makes your eyes roll back and your body tense as you fall off the cliff, hurtling down into the thrashing waves of your orgasm. You call his name in a strangled cry, limbs clutching onto him for dear life as the pleasure shakes through you. His hips don’t stop; plunging further into you and pushing you harder under the tides of your climax. Your body shivers and you’re so out of it you don’t notice Kirishima’s thrusts becoming volatile, his arm that had once propped his torso above yours curling beneath your back to press your torso against his.  

A growl of victory splits from deep in his throat as he approaches his own high, muscles tense in anticipation for the long-awaited prize. He shudders and suddenly his cuspids are lodged deep in your throat, and it feels like he’s just been run over by an eighteen-wheeler of ecstasy. His jaw shakes as his eyes close, abdomen convulsing as he spills deep into you in long, relentless spurts. The combination of his orgasm and his marking you almost make him pass out in an exhaustive pleasure.

Just as you’d come to from your orgasm, searing pain splices through you as Kirishima’s fangs split your skin and neck tissue, your jaw opening but no sound releasing. And just as fast as the pain had arrived, it’s replaced and you’re submerged back into the tidal waves of a new climax, making you clench and flex around Kirishima’s throbbing member that pulses into you.  

His fingers clasp the skin of your hips so strongly the skin turns white, but your own nails lodge into his shoulders to grapple him to you; the both of you holding each other as if your lives depend on it. The sheets around you are twisted and damp from your sweat, but the two of you only seem to care about each other; drifting numbly and blissfully in your shared euphoria.

After a moment Kirishima’s body sags, sliding slightly to the side of yours as his muscles stop tensing and he stops physically releasing into you. His teeth still woven deep into your neck, he doesn’t dare move his face.  

As the tides form your orgasm slowly recede, your body hums in a warm satisfaction and a certain numbness. Your hands rove over Kirishima’s expansive back soothingly, and he exhales with a content but tired moan in response.  

Very timidly, Kirishima stretches his jaw to the maximum before he pulls away from your neck, leaving your head buzzing lightly. He licks the puncture wounds instantly, enzymes in his saliva helping to start the healing process while he cleans away the scarlet blood that beads there. He ghosts a kiss over your jaw before he pulls away, smiling warily as his eyes meet yours.  

The primal amber and yellow shades are gone, leaving behind the warm red you’d fallen in love with. They cast over your face in total adoration, with a hint of fear.  

He looks away as he slides out of you, his release immediately following and forming a wet puddle on his sheets. Your cheeks flush even though it isn’t your fault, but he just smiles and presses a kiss to one of them as if silencing your unnecessary embarrassment.  

Kirishima reclines next to you, pulling the blanket at the foot of the mattress up to rest on top of the two of you. He collects you into his arms, your body weak and unprotesting. His legs entwine with yours, pressing every piece of skin he can to yours. He makes sure to be careful with your neck, kissing it gently once more before settling his face next to yours. The kiss makes the skin tingle and heat, a fuzzy warmth flooding your body as you smile shyly.  

“I told you not to let me get near your neck,” Kirishima says softly as your eyes close, eyelashes brushing over his collarbone. “Do you know what this means, Y/N?” He tries again at your silence, thinking you don’t understand the severity of the situation. His fingertips run up and down your naked spine relaxingly.  

“It means you need to work on your self-control,” you murmur, giggling quietly into his chest.

“Y/N, this isn’t a joke,” he says lowly, “I don’t kno-“

You cut him off. “It isn’t a joke, I know, Eijirou. It means we’re tied together, forever— meaning we, this, us— we’re permanent. We’re wolf-married or whatever the term is now, I know. You can never love another person again, and neither can I,” your hand rests on his pectoral, a finger tracing along his nipple so you have something to look at instead of his face. “If you can’t deal with that, I’m sorry, but I can. I’m yours, Kirishima, always have been, always will be. If you don’t want that, then I’m sorry but you just sealed your fate with mine and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Oh,” Kirishima exhales, blinking. The only light in the room is from the window above the desk, moonlight casting the bed in a dim white light. He shuffles, pulling your body closer to his, smiling into your hair with a stupidly happy grin. “I just wanted to make sure that’s what you want. I.. uh, I feel the same,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear giddily.  

“Good,” you reply, eyes closing as you nuzzle your face closer to his warm heart.

It’s silent for a moment before Kirishima clears his throat gently. You peek one eye open, awaiting his words.

“Um… I love you, Y/N… a lot,” he says rather nervously, gulping softly as he pauses for a response.

“I love you too, Eiji,” you kiss his chest gently, sighing contently.

“And, uh, Y/N?”  

“What, Eiji?”

“I’m glad it’s you who I’m wolf-married to.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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when he go from wolf to puppy 🥺 thank you for reading babies <3 & pls don’t be shy to let me know if you enjoyed!! 

➥ masterlist 

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