#like empty trash deleted all of them and i wanted to fucking cry

[navybrat817]

Oh, Navy. You and Bucky have been bad. Really bad. Like, Steve caught you both mutually masturbating to the video you three filmed last month.

You know the one where they double penetrated that pretty kitty of yours until you were gaping and both of their seed leaked from between the seams to dribble down into Bucky's short hairs as Steve continued to pump his load from behind you, emptying his balls.

The one that when you finally came around them and they released their hold on you, you found yourself staring at all the filth that had pooled around Bucky's cock, slipping down to his crack.

The one that suddenly had you batting your pretty little doe eyes at Steve and him cocking his head, asking "What's the matter, sweetheart? Did you want permission to clean Buck up? You have it."

And you shook your head, your fingers moving to the apex of your thighs, playing with the mess there. "No, daddy. I want to see you clean Bucky up."

The thing is, Steve doesn't do that. You clean them up. He and Bucky clean you up. But Steve never cleans Bucky - that's a submissive move. But those damn eyes of yours and the way you toyed with your clit had him stroking his cock again. He'd never kneel in front of Bucky so he made sure the brunette stayed laying down as he dropped toward him.

"Hold your legs apart, Buck. Our girl wants a show."

And boy, what a show he gave! He sucked that cock until it was shiny and hard as steel, ignoring the hard member to seek out all cum that had slipped to his hole. Steve ate that hole hard. Grunting and knawing at the tender flesh until Bucky was thrusting his hips and you joined in to suck him off as Steve ate him out.

Well, Steve wanted that video buried. He's a dom and Bucky had promised to trash it, but here you both were, getting off to it - without Steve.

Big no.

You're in sooo much trouble. But something tells me you'll enjoy your punishment

I'm DEAD. Please. How can this be my life?!

But, oh, Steve wouldn't be happy. Not only did you disobey him by not deleting the video, but you're getting off without him? It's like you're ASKING to be punished.

He knows what to do.

While he may use something soft to tie you down and give you a false sense of security, vibranium cuffs are very useful when he wants to restrain Bucky. Because you wanted to get off so badly (and he KNOWS you're the one who convinced Bucky NOT to delete the video), he'll make sure you do just that. Over and over and over.

With tears streaming down your cheeks as you clench around the vibrator inside you, Bucky watches in agony, even while thrusting up into Steve's hand. He knows you'd rather get off with his or Steve's cock inside you. And with as hard as he is, Steve hasn't let him come at all. Each time he gets close, the blonde grips the base of his cock to stop him.

"You get off when I say so, you understand me, Buck?"

Bucky whines when Steve turns the vibrator up, your cry making him twitch with need. "Stevie, please. Fuck, please."

"I told you to get rid of it. Fucking brats never listen, do you?"

"But she looked so beautiful. So did you," he's panting as Steve's thumb brushes over the tip. "Don't you, fuck, get it? You were still in charge. I came only when YOU said so."

"Steve, daddy, sir," you moan, lifting your head. "He's right."

"Our Captain," Bucky sighs.

"Our daddy," you add.

Steve has to agree it was hot catching you building yourselves up from the mere sight and sounds of the three of you. The whimpers Bucky let out when he had his tongue deep in his tight hole, along with the muffled moans of yours as you swallowed him down, had the Captain aching with the need. He adores and loves you two, even when you disobey him.

He'll remind you of that once the night is over.

"You still tried to get off without me. So you two better sit tight. It's gonna be a long night."

Maybe if you both prove you're sorry, he'll clean both of you up.

*****

Love and thanks! ❤️

[allegra-writes]

"Ghosted"

Billy Russo x Reader

General audience

Warnings: Angstfest

"You're crying in your bedroom

'Cause I've gone and left you

Wish I never met you

Don't know what you've got until it's gone"

"Bedroom" - JJ Lin

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

You had stopped picking up the phone. His calls still went through, so he knew you hadn't blocked him, and you hadn't changed your number. Most of the time, he didn't even go straight to your voicemail, so you didn't even reject the call right away, no. You simply let it ring, as if you couldn't even be bothered to swipe. As if you didn't even care about his name popping up on your screen. Or maybe you had deleted his number. He knew you didn't pick up calls from strange numbers.

And wasn't that so much worse? He knew the exact number and location of the freckles on your lower back, he knew your taste, had been inside you more times than he could count… yet he was a stranger now, an unwanted, annoying interruption, along with the sellers and insurance agents and the occasional creep that somehow got their greasy paws on your number- A crack resonated through the tiny bedroom, and he realised he had managed to squeeze his glass to shards.

He sighed, getting up to walk on unsteady feet towards the tiny ensuite bathroom, grabbing the paper towels and going back into the bedroom, where he proceeded to carefully pick up and envelope the sharp pieces of glass in them, discarding them on the little trash can beside the desk littered with your pens and notebooks, little bits of you, of your existence. He had been disappointed almost to the point of heartbreak when he had opened them to find most of them empty, the few that actually had something written in them were filled with dates and numbers and places, all impersonal, cold research, without even the briefest of explanations, or input into your mind. It was then he realised he longed for them. Your mind, sharper than the glass in his hands, and your words, you had always had a way with words.

That's why he hadn't been surprised to hear about the job you had been offered at The Bulletin, and that was probably where you were right now: with your new coworkers, celebrating you, celebrating your leaving of that soul sucking job where no one appreciated you, and didn't even pay enough for you to live comfortably the way you deserved.

Billy had to admit to himself, he kinda hated that. He knew he should be happy for you, but he hated it. Cause, there went another half made plan, another possibility… He could have tempted you with a better job, maybe offer you being a receptionist at Anvil, pretend his attempts to approach you had been professional, if it turned out you reacted adversely to him showing up. He would get to see you everyday, maybe lend you some money, give you another reason to be civil with him. He was Billy Russo after all, he was not above manipulating you into being his friend.

But now? Now that was completely off the table. Even if The Bulletin didn't pay you better, you would never give up doing something you loved just for money, you didn't need it like he did. You didn't need designer names, or expensive cars or exclusive restaurant dinners.

He took a look around at the mismatched furniture, at the ancient wallpaper, the thrifted bed covers. He used to find it depressing and unimpressive, he had failed to understand…

Now he did, but you were gone. You were gone and he couldn't stop the tears from falling, the sobs from wrecking his chest, couldn't help trying to drown them against the pillow that still smelled like you. He wanted to bottle up that scent, keep it forever in his pocket, keep you forever in his pocket, but he couldn't.

And it was all his fault. He should have treated you better, should have told you what he felt about you. But, had he really known? Back then? If he was honest with himself, really honest with himself, he had to admit, he hadn't. It was cliché as fuck, but it was true: He hadn't known what he had until it was gone.

Except you were coming back, if the girly giggles and the sound of keys on the front door were any indication…

Holy shit! You were coming back! You were entering your apartment and he was still there!

"Huh! I could swear that I left the lights off, that's so weird…" Your voice sounded only mildly concerned as you entered your shoe box of an apartment. It would probably have been different if you were alone but since you were with-

"Really? You're not usually sloppy" The familiar voice with you was saying, "You don't think someone broke in, do you? Should I call Frank? Or Matt? He's probably still nearby, maybe we should wait outside?"

You waved Karen off, but threw a significant look at her purse. Your friend nodded, the message clear: That you weren't too concerns but she should keep the gun you knew she had there at the ready, just in case.

You stepped inside, checking the kitchen and living room before heading for the room.

"I mean, nothing seems out of order. Maybe I just- AHHHH!"

"Y/N? What's-"

"BILLY RUSSO, WHAT THE FUCK??"

Typical. Fucking typical. You had been having a good night, fuck that, a good week: You had a new job, new coworkers, new friends you had found with Karen, and a cute one named Matt had made you laugh all night, parting with a goodbye kiss on your cheek that had left you decidedly giddy. Of course it couldn't last, of course the universe would throw you a low one.

In this case, in the form of an inebriated Billy Russo, fuck boy extraodinaire, staring at you teary eyed from your bed.

In the universe's favour, you had not seen that one coming.

Billy, meanwhile, was transfixed, overwhelmed by having you there in front of him, in the flesh, for the first time in over two months.

And you were a fucking vision, clutching at your chest, trying to get your breathing back under control, doe eyes fixed on him, and fuck if you didn't look gorgeous with your office appropriate dress a little wrinkled, your hair loose and undone, you skin flushed, your chest heavi-

"Billy, I asked you a question" His glassy, unfocused eyes snapped back to your face, "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

He stood up from your bed, swaying dangerously.

"You weren't answering your phone" His voice was weak, but surprisingly the words came out barely slurred.

"Wait, did you say Billy Russo?" A blonde head appeared at the door, over your shoulder, but you both ignored it.

"So you broke into my apartment?!"

"Oh my god, you're Billy the asshole? Her Billy?"

"He's not my anything" The ice in your voice froze the little thrill running through him at hearing Karen call him your Billy.

"William Russo, is this" Karen accused, gesturing at you, "why you finally came to dinner with Frank and me last week after a month of radio silence? To get intel on Y/N?" And how had he even found out about your friendship? She threw her hands up "I am so calling Frank"

Once alone with Billy, you sighed,

"I guess it's safe to assume you're Frank's Billy?"

You were met with silence. Repressing another sigh, you tried again.

"You look like shit" the comment made him scoff, and you counted the reaction as a win "What happened to you, Billy?"

He furrowed his brow, taking a look around and then pinning you with an admiringly condescending glare, considering it came from bloodshot, unfocused eyes. Wasn't it obvious?

"You"

Your face wrinkled in confusion and his heart just about stopped working. You needed to stop being so cute if you weren't going to be his, cause he could feel it, flaying him alive, turning him inside out and he couldn't- He couldn't…

"Me? What is that-" But the tears were flowing freely now, stunning you into silence.

"You just- you left me. You disappeared, no goodbye, no explanation, nothing!" He knew, oh, he knew his anger was misplaced, but he couldn't stop his raising voice, the dam letting everything, all the pain, the confusion, the frustration, out once finally broken. "One minute everything was ok, we were having fun, having a good time, the next you were gone! Wouldn't even pick up the phone or-or reply to my messages. You- you… you ghosted me!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" You felt your own irritation rise at his volume, "Break up with you? We weren't even together in the first place!"

"Like hell we weren't-"

"We were fuck buddies, Billy" You cut him off, "Nothing more. You made damn sure to make that perfectly clear"

He flinched, knowing it was true, but you didn't see it, you were on a roll now,

"Late night texts? Always me coming to your place and going back home, alone, the next morning? Never going out to dinner, only take out in bed? That's a booty call, Billy. And last time I checked, that meant no strings attached, I owed you no explanation, just like you didn't owe anything to me"

"I never let anyone spend the night at my place. Never" Billy replied, defensive, his alcohol ridden brain not realising that probably wasn't the right thing to say "I always send them on their way after we finish"

"Wow! Gee, Billy, thank you, now I feel really special…"

"I didn't know you wanted to go out to dinner, you always said you hated fancy restaurants!"

"It's not about fancy restaurants, you could have taken me out to Josie's for all I cared! I just wanted a real date with you!" You admitted, feeling your face burn. It pained you to admit it, to show him weakness, after you had managed to remain strong for so long.

It had taken everything in you to walk away from Billy's apartment for what you had told yourself it would be the last time. It had been even harder to ignore his texts and calls, so hard you had even caved in, once. But that had left you feeling worse, so much worse. It had left you hollow, feeling sad and pathetic and disgusted with yourself.

Letting Billy use you only to discard you the next morning once again had felt way worse than missing him. That had been the real last time.

After that, it had become easier and easier to let the phone ring, let the messages arrive and get lost in your inbox without opening them. After all, you knew exactly what they would say: some empty, fake nicety followed by an inane comment, a joke, an innuendo, and after that increasingly dirty texts, maybe a picture, before an invitation to come over. He had never texted you just to talk, to tell you something. And every single one of you attempts at a non sexual conversation had been met with silence and a seen at.

It was a demoralising routine.

"Let me take you out then. On a real date, any place you like..." He took a step closer, looming over you, invading your personal space. It used to make your heart flutter, his slim but strong frame so close, his unfairly handsome face looking down at you.

Now it only made you feel claustrophobic.

You took a step back, and Billy felt the distance you put between the two of you acutely. It was a step but it was so much more, he could feel you slipping away, closing off, building a wall around yourself. He had the urge to bang his fists against it, tear it down, grab you and take you in his arms, but you took another fucking step back and the room went spinning. He couldn't follow.

"It's too late for that"

"No it's not. Let me make this right, let me treat you right"

You were shaking your head,

"You can't make this right"

"Yes, yes, I can, just give me the chance-"

"I don't want to, Billy!" The yell took him by surprise, making him stumble back until his legs hit your bed, and you watched him fall on his ass, almost missing the mattress. You took a deep breath, rubbing your face with your hands, trying to cool down. You defeated, shoulders falling, righteous fury draining out.

"I saw you, Billy. I was at Niku, had just finished interviewing this… this greek heiress, as a favor for Karen, cause they had history or something," You started elaborating at his puzzled look, "when I saw you at the bar. You were with this model… at least she looked like a model, she looked straight out of a runaway. And you looked so smug" Your smile was bitter, "You never looked like that with me… and I guess I must be a masochist or something cause I did something really really stupid" there was no humor in your little chuckle.

"I texted you" You met his eyes, his big, bright, sad puppy dog eyes, that had no effect on you cause whatever he might be feeling was nothing compared to the sheer devastation of what you had felt that night, "I asked if you wanted to hang out, but you said you already had plans for the night" What you didn't tell him, was that you had waited for half an hour, watching him stick his tongue down her throat, tears streaming down your face, because you didn't want him to see you cry, and you had to walk right by him if you wanted to reach the exit.

"I was in love with you, Billy" You confessed, "and I saw you pick another woman over me, and it broke my heart"

Billy let out a choked sob, but you went on. Because he needed to hear it, and you needed to say it,

"But I'm glad I saw that, I'm glad that happened, cause it hurt me bad enough to fall out of love with you"

"No" Billy tried to stand, tried to reach for you, but you retreated farther from his grasp.

"It hurt me bad enough to realize I had to get over you"

"Nonono, please, Y/N, please"

"I'm over you now, Billy. I have no interest in giving you any chances"

"No, you're lying, no!" But even as he protested, he could see the truth in your eyes. The light, the warmth that used to be there when you looked at him was gone, replaced by cold indifference. There was nothing for him there, under your anger, not even pitty.

You truly didn't give a fuck about him anymore.

New voices from the living room had you turning around for the door and Billy staggered to his feet, intending to follow you, when the floor tilted towards his face.

But the expected impact never came, iron arms catching him just on time, helping him straighten up,

"Easy there, brother" Frank's voice was soft, way softer than it had been when addressing him in a long time.

"F-Frankie?"

"Yeah, Bill, it's me" He grunted a little bit, Billy's death weight refusing to cooperate, "Now, what do you say we get your drunk ass home? I think you terrified the girls long enough"

Frank's tone was teasing, but his words unnerved Billy,

"I dnt'mean to scare them, m'sorry" He tried to turn in Frank's grip, nearly sending them both crashing against the coffee table, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm sorry!"

"Curt, a little help here?"

Curtis materialised at Billy's other side, and together, they dragged the intoxicated marine out of your apartment in minutes.

"Goodnight Kar, goodnight Y/N" He called back as they passed through the door, "I'll be back tomorrow to change the lock"

"S'uselss" Billy protested, "I'll just pick it again…"

"If you do that, brother, I'm afraid Imma have to kick your ass"

"I hafta- I have to see her, Frankie"

"I know, brother, I know"

"Miss her"

"I know, Billy, but this is not the way" Curtis placated.

"Whatsda way then?"

Frank and Curtis exchange a look over his head. Billy Russo was obstinate, never stopping, never resting until the mission was completed, a trait useful in a soldier, but now, in heartsick ex? They weren't so sure.

Curtis sighed, giving in.

"We'll figure it out in the morning, when you're sobber"

Frank closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he had learnt something about you in the short time he had known you, was that you could be as obstinate as Curtis, or Karen, or Billy, or even himself. And while that meant you would fit right in with their dysfunctional, makeshift family, it also meant that, if they were to try and change your mind about their manwhore of a friend, they had a hell of a lot of work ahead of them...

To be continued...

[wandsolsen]

Champagne Problems

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: In which Wanda rejected your marriage proposal, inspired by Taylor Swift's song Champagne Problems.

Warnings: pure angst, cursing.

Word Count: 1.8k

↳ Please, be aware that English isn't my first language, fell free to tell me if there are any mistakes.

You booked the midnight train for a reason, you wanted to contemplate your pain with your head against the train window.

The reason for your suffering had a name, Wanda Maximoff.

You sat down in one of the seats, feeling the hurt in your chest burning hard just for thinking about her. The train wasn't too much crowned, however, it wasn't all empty. There were people talking and people sleeping, you were not sure which was worse.

People looked at you, certainly worried about how miserable you were.

You finally rested your head on the train window, looking at the view from the outside. Unintentionally, you remembered Wanda's hand holding yours as the two of you danced on the dance floor.

Wanda smiled at you, and she looked happy. But she wasn't, at least, not complete. Not happy enough to say yes.

However, nobody could ever have thought that she would say no.

You felt the tears coming out, your mouth trembled as you remembered. Your heart was made of glass and she let it drop it.

You had prepared a speech, but when you got down on your knees, you didn't find the expression of emotion and excitement that you had imagined she would had. Instead, you saw Wanda's body tense and fear in her green eyes.

You were speechless.

She didn't even let you ask, she ran away, leaving you there, on your knees and crestfallen on the dance floor.

You were so broken that you hadn't the strength to reach out to her, Wanda's love escaped beyond your reaches.

You saw the pity look that your family and friends gave to you. You had told them that you were going to propose Wanda that night, you couldn't keep it a secret.

You had bought Dom Pérignon and one of your family members had already popped the bottle in an early celebration, it was humiliating.

"Maybe it's just one of her...What does she call? Oh, yeah," Steve remembered before anyone could answer him. "her champagne problems." Steve was trying to calm you down, but he wasn't succeeding.

Fuck Wanda, you thought, your veins filled with angry. Fuck her and her champagne problems.

But even with all the fury you were feeling, Wanda's picture was still in your wallet along with your mom's ring.

You didn't hate her for leaving, you could never hate her.

You remembered the first time you made Wanda blush, it was in November.

You both met in college, and you thought you were the luckiest person in the world for having Wanda as your roommate. She was organized, friendly and didn't ask too many questions, everything a person could want from a roommate.

"Someone said to me that this door was once a madhouse." You said to her, wanting to make small talk.

"Well, it's made for me." Wanda made a joke, and you chuckled.

"A beautiful and intelligent woman like you in a madhouse? I find it hard to believe."

"Beautiful people do have problems too." Wanda's face was getting flush.

"I know, I know." You said. "I just wanted to praise you because, well, you're definitely one of the most beautiful girls on the campus."

And there it was, Wanda's face all red and her shy smile on her lips. You felt your heart beating faster than usual at that moment.

"So do you?" You continued.

"Do what?"

"Have problems."

"Just champagne problems." She answered.

"Champagne problems?" You asked, with your furrowed eyebrows.

"Yes, nothing meaningful or worth mention," She explained. "when compared to the others issues around the world."

"Well, champagne or not, they're still problems."

She thought about your words for a moment, but didn't say anything. Wanda continued to devalue her own problems, claiming that her issues were insignificant and there were worse things in the world.

Wanda was very reserved in the beginning, it was usually you who started the conversations. It didn't take long for you to fall in love with her.

I mean, how could you not? She was gorgeous and caring. Wanda was kinder than the most people you had ever met. She was a dream girl, with her hair loose and long, her sweet smile and her funny laugh. The way she was always up to help someone in need, and how she tried to empathize with everyone.

Wanda was absolutely flawless.

You only asked her out on a date when you were sure she wouldn't reject you.

Now, seeing from afar, you could see how stupid you were. You should have waited, just kneeling after knowing for sure that she would say yes.

But that's the problem.

You had sure that Wanda would say yes with tears dropping from her eyes. Then, your song would have played, you would have kissed her and held her hand tight while dancing. Your friends would have cheered with joy, and Wanda would have hugged you with a radiant smile on her face.

You let out a breath of pain. You now lived with only wishes. Because she dropped your hand while dancing, instead of holding tight.

Just champagne problems, she would say, about this dramatic situation.

You had a black Chevy that Wanda loved, she enjoyed riding in your car, even if you never go anywhere special. And when the car stopped running and you decided that was time to buy a better one, Wanda didn't let you. Often you saw her on the passenger seat murmuring whatever song was playing on the radio.

Nevertheless, the Chevy wasn't going anywhere. Just like your relationship.

Feeling tired of sitting there in this hurt, you left the train and went to the nearest hotel that you could find, you didn't want to come back home anytime soon.

You lived in a small town, your failed marriage proposal was probably spreading in the mouth of people like a disease.

Your turn on your phone, there were many messages and missed calls from your friends, but no one of them matters to you. Except one.

There was one voicemail from Wanda. Just that. She didn't send you a dozen messages like your friends, just a voicemail.

You set down on the bed, before listening to her voice for the last time.

Hey, Y/N, it's me, Wanda. I think I owed you an apology for leaving you out there standing. I-I can't do this, I'm sorry.

Wanda's voice was trembling, it sounded like she was crying. Why was she crying? She left you, not the other way around.

You didn't know it was possible for your heart to break more, but it did. The sound of her painful voice would haunt you forever.

I really can't give you a reason, I guess I never was ready for commitment. Sometimes you just don't know the answer until someone gets on their knees and asks you, you know?

There was a long pause, so long that you thought the message was over. However, Wanda's voice filled the room again:

You deserve someone better than me, you always had. Someone who is not fucked up in the head like me, someone who will never hurt you like I did. You'll find a real thing out there, she will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and she will patch up your tapestry that I shredded. She will be so perfect that you will not remeber me, or all my champagne problems.

Your vision was blurred because of the tears that fall uncontrollably from your face.

Ours... your friends called, they all are worried about you, please contact them.

There was another long pause.

I lov...

Your heart started to race at the words she was about to say, but Wanda gave up halfway, as if realizing that the words were not true.

Goodbye, Y/N.

And that was it.

Four years of relationship saying goodbye in a voicemail of less than five minutes.

Your throat burned from holding on to crying for so long, you wanted to scream until your vocal cords burst.

You loved her more than anything, and she left as if it were nothing. As if your love meant nothing.

You took the picture of Wanda that was still on your wallet, and tore it into several pieces before throwing it in the trash.

Eventually, the sleep caught you while you were crying in the hotel bed, similar to a friendly hug in the midst of so much pain.

━━━━━━ ᗢ ━━━━━━

You heard that Wanda left town, without looking back, on the same day that she rejected your proposal.

Wanda's sweet perfume was still impregnate, along with your memories with her, in every room of the house that the two of you used to live. You didn't manage to stay there, it didn't take long for you to sell the house and buy an apartment in the city center.

You sold your black Chevy, there was no one around to stop you.

You also sold Wanda's things that she left behind, you didn't want anything to remind you of her. Because after the end of the day, you were still mad at Wanda. For leaving, for didn't give you a good reason, for making your waste four years of your life.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head." That was probably the last thing that someone spoke about Wanda, before another big gossip emerge in your town and they eventually forgot the humiliation that she put you through.

At first, you stayed in your new apartment with your heart broken, just watching futile reality shows and eating junk food. Steve, your best friend, was there all the time giving you emotional support, even though he didn't always know how to say the right thing.

But eventually you had to face reality, after all, you suffering or not, life still went on.

It took two years before you were ready to fall in love again. And two years since you had heard from Wanda, you didn't know about her even on social media, since she had deleted them all.

It was as if Wanda had simply disappeared, little by little, she became a myth in your life, a ghost that haunted you from time to time. Not even your friends and family mentioned her name.

Sometimes you wondered if she really existed, if you haven't invented her in your head.

It was in a bar outside the town, that you met Natasha Romanoff. She was self-confident and carried a death look in her eyes, rigid on the outside, but soft on the inside. She had short red hair and was not very fond of wearing jewellery.

Totally different from Wanda.

Natasha was fun to be around, it was easy to understand her because she was always honest with you.

You started to date her on the very first day of summer. Then, after spending all the four seasons together, you started to carry your mom's ring in your pocket and Natasha's picture in your wallet.

And when you got on your knees, she didn't leave you crestfallen on the dance floor. She said yes, and held your hand tight while dancing.

However, in the end, Wanda was wrong.

You still remeber all her champagne problems.

[rumblelibrary]

I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there  on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort? 

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language. 

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright - Part Nine

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: this chapter is long again but worth it;) I’ve included two lines from two of you who’ve participated in my little challenge and these are the lines:

“You will not touch her!!”

“ Darling, I may be a god but I am still a man”

so be on the look out;)

Warnings: angst, language, sexually explicit language (18+ only!)

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART NINE

Three days passed without incident, well, false, there were a few spilled cereals on the floor and burning yourself while trying to make dinner. Otherwise, though, there was no incident!

Loki kept his distance, or well, as far away as he wanted. Whenever he deigned to come back to the loft, he was handsy. A hand at the small of your back while you made dinner. A hand on your thigh while you read to him late at night. A lingering hand in yours while you said goodnight. But never more. 

And as much as you wanted to be more, to have the courage to swallow your pride and to act on the soulmate bond, you never went further. 

Even despite the soulmate bond, the fact that colors were so vibrant and real, there was always that nagging thought at the back of your head. Bruce. He came to you in your dreams, pleading, begging you to come back. Even if you woke up with your heart in your throat, your fingers trembling, you never made another attempt to leave the loft. 

And that’s what it was this morning, waking up with your heart bashing against your breastbone, your breath haggard, hands shaking as you gripped the sheets. You gasped, trying to catch your breath, but the vividness of the dream made your head spin. Ever since colors came to you, your dreams just felt that much more real. 

After sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to get your brother’s face out of your mind, you went to the bathroom and cleaned up for the day, dressing in your regular jeans and t-shirt. You planned to ask Loki how his evil mastermind of a plan was going, but the loft was quiet. 

Last night, you’d gotten through half of Jane Austen, while Loki played in your hair, watching you with those intense green eyes. The book still lay on the couch, open, face down, and you picked it back up.

“Proceeding without me, darling?”

You looked back as Loki strode in from the hall, the door to his room wide open, and you could see his unmade bed beyond. You wondered how Loki slept. Was he a quiet, unmoving sleeper? Or a loud, messy one? 

“Sleeping in late now, are we?” you countered as you went back to the book. Loki went to the kitchen with a chuckle, beginning his breakfast. 

“A day off never hurt anybody,” he answered.

“A day off from what?” you asked with a snark. “From taking over my planet?”

He chuckled softly but never answered. He was so dodgy when it came to questions about it. Even your questions about the Avengers, he usually shrugged and ignored you. 

He came back with two bowls of Lucky Charms and coffee, which you both indulged in silence. Today, Loki was wearing a black knit sweater and his usual trousers, his leg folded on the couch between you. He looked almost sweet eating his child’s cereal, deep in thought, those green gems faraway.

When you were finished, he took your bowl and empty mug and went back to the kitchen to wash them. You looked at him, chin on the back of the couch, losing yourself in the width of his broad shoulders, the way the fabric of his sweater strained across the expanse of his back.

He was truly, utterly beautiful. Maybe it was the soulmate bond tugging deep in your chest, making you see things in him you’d normally never notice. But his touch was gentle, even if his body was all sharp, hard angles. His face was sweet despite the constant frown and the obnoxious tone he sometimes employed. There was something about those strands of raven hair, cut short just beneath his ears, that you wanted to run your fingers through. Would they be soft? Would they be thick? 

Countless times you’d pictured yourself tugging at those dark roots, pulling his head back and exposing his pale, long neck. 

“Staring, Y/N?” came the rumble of his voice. 

You perked up, cheeks growing hot. He was still facing away from you. How did he know?

Your silence made him chuckle, his shoulders moving along with the waves of his laughter. He turned off the tap, turning to face you, leaning against the countertop. You wanted to absolutely delete the space between the both of you, but instead, you fell back against the couch, only your eyes and forehead visible to him. 

He smiled cockily. “It’s fine if you stare,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s adorable.”

“I wasn’t,” you stuttered, looking away, wanting to hide. “I wasn’t staring.”

“I am not an idiot,” Loki said, stalking towards you. “I know staring when I see it.” He put his hands on the back of the couch, on each side of your face, and you had to look up to maintain eye contact. 

“I was just - looking,” you mumbled, looking down. 

He hooked a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes back to his. “I said it’s fine if you look,” he said, inching closer, leaning over you. “I do it too.”

He watched you frown with a tilt of his head, his fingers still grasping your chin. Your mouth parted to say something back, maybe a clever little retort, but you found yourself at a lost for words. 

“I feel the same bond as you, Y/N,” he said, and now his tone was lower, rougher. “I feel the same... desires as you.” You wanted to look away, but he kept a hold on you that you dared not break. “Do you think of me at night?” he asked in a whisper.

Your breath hitched. You did. God, you did. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you stayed long hours staring up at the cream ceiling, imagining what he was doing in his room. What he was thinking. If he was imagining you as well. If his body responded to the thought of you. Because yours did whenever his smirk appeared in your mind’s eye, whenever those hands imaginarily stroked your hips.

His mouth quirked up in a smirk. “You do,” he murmured, gaze dropping momentarily at your parted lips. “Say it.” It was a command.

You gulped, finding it extremely hard to maintain eye contact. “I do.” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper. 

He smiled. “Of course you do.” He stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. “I can’t help it, having you in my thoughts. It’s like a plague. I can’t bare it when I am not with you. I want...” he trailed off, his eyes round, red mouth parted as if he was surprised he’d admitted this much. “I want to kiss you so much. I want to touch every single inch of your skin. I want to taste you and hear what that brings out of you. I can’t stop thinking about it, and Gods, is it hard to control myself.”

You gulped, heat crawling up your face, your hands in fists at your sides. Something new spilled in your tummy, a heat previously unbeknownst to you. It dripped like lead down your thighs, seeping into your core, and you shut your legs together to keep it there.

Loki chuckled, watching you struggle. “Darling, I may be a God but I am still a man,” he whispered. You shivered, the force of his words like a hot flame coursing down your body. “And I won’t be able to keep myself from you any longer.”

You looked up, something daring crawling up your features, relaxing your trembling fists. 

“Then don’t,” you said. 

He was so close to you that you could see the little freckles on his eyelids, the crinkling of the skin beside his mouth as his lips split into a grin. 

“You’re bad,” he uttered. “I like it.”

He softly jerked his chin, eyes boring into yours, and you felt the kiss before he even touched you. His hand left your chin and slid down to grasp your shoulders, bringing you up, kneeling before him. And as he softly pressed his lips to yours, he brought you over the edge of the couch until you stood before him.

At first, his lips were hesitant, soft, slow, as if he was afraid to scare you. To make sure you totally and utterly wanted this. And God, was this better than anything you’d ever experienced. The smell of him so close, the feel of his body pressed flushed against yours, his lips molding against your mouth. It was Paradise. 

Flames erupted under your flesh as Loki kissed you, slowly, sensuously. Your hands slid across his arms, up around his shoulders, and finally, you gripped the soft roots of his raven locks. A guttural groan escaped his throat when you tugged softly, and his left hand - that’d been obediently tucked against your waist - gripped your ass, while his right hand wrapped slowly around your throat.

And his kiss deepened, became hungrier, his tongue opening your lips for him. Heat pooled treacherously down your belly, settling in the pit of your pelvis. This side to Loki, this lasciviousness, the way his hand around your throat squeezed ever so slightly, the one on your ass gripping possessively, made your heart trash against your ribs. 

You wanted more. You wanted closer. You wanted him. 

But the moment broke. It shattered at the sound of a loud, blaring alarm, the loft shutting down and coming back blood red in lights. 

You broke apart, panting, and Loki quickly turned so you were behind him. Your hands rested on his upper back, and you could feel his quick breaths as he scanned the room. Your lips were warm, swollen from his kiss.

A shuddering, ground breaking crash made the floor beneath your feet rumble, like a great big beast had thundered through the walls.

“Shit,” you said, all heat lost, a frozen, merciless cold gripping your insides. You knew exactly what great big beast had found you. 

Loki turned, and the complete change in his expression - from lust to panic - made your head spin. 

“We’ve been found,” he said. “They’ve come for you, my dear.” He looked at you expectantly, and whatever he wanted you to say, you didn’t. Because you couldn’t choose between your brother, your fucking family, and your soulmate. 

The unfairness made you want to cry. 

He gripped your hand and kissed it harshly. “Stay here,” he ordered. 

Your empty hand felt cold without his.

He turned and rippled his magic, illusion dripping from him, revealing the true God. Clad in his long green cotton cape, his black, gold, and green armor adorning his lean build, his horned, golden helmet casting off the brute lights. He looked like a true God; a powerful one. 

Something weird and unpleasant settled in your stomach when he brought his left hand up, his golden staff materializing between his fingers. The light at the tip glowed a nebulous, familiar blue. 

He used it to travel - that was the only word you had for it, the way the world seemed to crack before him, swallowing Loki whole and closing, leaving you staring at empty space. 

Panting, heart beating, thoughts wild from both the kiss and the blaring alarm, you ran for the door. As you’d guessed, it was locked. Whatever magic Loki held on the loft, it wasn’t about to let you out. Pressing your ear against the door, you heard nothing but the muffled rumbling of the lab on the other side. 

You pushed back, angry, groaning in frustration. Maybe if you found your brother and explained. Even if it was ridiculous. Even if Loki was ultimately the villain, the one to threaten your own planet, there had to be an explanation for the bond. And surely, your brother would understand, right?

But you had no time to answer your own question. You had no time to venture into your thoughts. The door blasted open, sending a wave of heat, throwing you back across the air. You landed hard on your back, your head cracking against the floor. 

You vision blurred, wavered, flooding in and out from black to red. A few sparks blew in your vision, muffled voices blurring in your ears. Something pushed off your chest, a heavy weight clearing, your breathing returning in a rush.

Someone was talking to you, yelling at you actually, but you couldn’t make them out. Your world was red and black, a harsh duality, your head swimming viciously. You thought you’d vomit, but the feeling passed. Your left arm was numb.

“Get up!” 

It was a voice you recognized. 

Thor.

You felt arms under your knees, behind your head, gently lifting you. There was a cold harshness, like steel, against your cheek. A rumbling voice overhead. 

“Y/N,” he said, shaking you slightly. “Can you hear me?”

You shook your head. “He’s going to kill you,” you mumbled, frowning, a violent headache searing across your brain. 

Thor huffed. 

Something crashed nearby. Thor groaned, his body moving slightly. 

“Let her go!” Loki’s voice made the world regain its focus, like being taken out from underwater. You reached up, gripping Thor’s armor. Trying to push yourself off. 

“Loki, you’ve mascaraed this planet!” Thor shouted. The force of his voice shook through you. The voice of a God. A king. 

“Let her go, brother! You’ve no idea what you’re doing!” There was pain in Loki’s voice, urgency. Fear.

“Put down the staff, Loki,” Thor demanded. Your head was heavy. An ache crawled along your skull. Another concussion. 

The air shifted, something similar to space travel, but your skin didn’t tighten, your body didn’t feel stretched across time. Thor yelled, his hands curling at your sides, until you were dropped and Thor’s body was propelled from yours.

When you looked up, your head aching something fierce, Loki was bent over you, green eyes torn with fear. He placed a hand on your shoulder, skimming your collarbone. “I’ll kill him,” Loki growled, getting to his feet.

You wanted to tell him to stop, to just take you away again, but your head was too heavy to lift. 

“Bruce is out there, brother,” Thor said, but you couldn’t see him, and your brother’s name on his tongue made tears brim in your eyes. “He’s coming for her and you can’t stop it!”

“You cannot have her!” Loki yelled back, vicious, teeth snapping. “You will not touch her! She’s mine!”

There was a vicious, tremendous crash, the ground rumbling under your spine, sending reverberations painfully dancing along your skull. 

Loki turned, saw the flash of green in the blaring red of the alarm. You wanted to call out. Call out to your brother. You didn’t want him hurt, even if you knew that in this form, the Hulk was basically indestructible.

Loki was too far away to simply leave with you, using the power of his staff. He glanced at you, saw the expanse of space between you both, and his eyes sharpened, just as Hulk came barreling through the wall, roaring in rage, coming toe to toe with Loki.

And Loki vanished, leaving you there, on the floor, broken, and empty.

Tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 6

July 31st: Neighbors AU or Famous AU

Read on AO3

So, yeah, should have posted this yesterday but I didn’t have time to finish writing it and then I got drunk. I’m not super happy with it, it didn’t come out like I planned, but I hope you like it anyway. Hopefully I can get day 7 written and posted tomorrow.

-

Fame for Beca had always been a double edged sword.

It allowed her music to spread across the globe. She got to meet fans and hear about how she had inspired or helped them, just by existing. She got to work with and meet her peers and idols, and perform in places she never dreamed of.

She got to provide for her family. She got to give her kids the childhood she never had, and she got to give her wife the life she deserved.

But she also had to deal with paparazzi following them around everywhere they went.

She had to deal with articles written about her every other day, and intense fans that crossed boundaries, and ones that would trash her online.

Beca was finding that she had more bad days than good days, and it was beginning to weigh her down.

She had to remind herself daily, that there were billions of people who were suffering in the world, and that she was incredibly privileged to live the life she led.

But Chloe could see the toll it was taking on her wife, and it was killing her.

After she was almost in that car accident, Beca had taken a couple of weeks off work. She spent her time taking care of Chloe, playing with Blake, and obsessively re-writing and re-working the songs on her upcoming album.

And it was an insane success.

Everyone who had slated her single ate their words, and Beca found herself skyrocketing to fame for the second time.

Their money worries disappeared almost overnight, but other problems replaced them quickly.

Beca had always been a relatively private and introverted person. It was one of the reasons she had always wanted to be a producer rather than an artist.

So while her fame rose, her anxiety did too.

She tried to keep it to herself, but Chloe has always been able to read Beca like a book.

She always knew when Beca’s anxiety was bad, but she also always knew how to calm Beca down.

So they were dealing with it. They had a system. Beca would work until she couldn’t, and then Chloe would pick her back up.

“People are dying,” Beca would mutter to herself, her eyes squeezed shut, her hands on the back of her head. “Children are dying. They’re going without food, water, and medicine, and they’re dying. My problems are nothing.”

When things were at the worst, she would repeat this to herself over and over as wave after way of anxiety crippled her. Chloe would find her and hold her, and whisper reassurances until Beca calmed down.

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was working.

At least Chloe thought it was.

But then Beca reached her breaking point.

It had been a rough week to begin with - she had had to read an article on a prominent gossip site about how she was apparently cheating on Chloe with another musician - so she was already on edge.

Chloe had assured Beca she knew it was all bullshit, but Beca still hated that Chloe had to deal with that stuff. And she hated even more that Blake was old enough to read and understand it.

It was Riley’s third birthday, and she was walking with her girls to get ice cream from the kids’ favourite place.

Riley was up on Beca’s shoulders, Chloe was walking at her side, pushing Riley’s empty stroller, and Blake was walking between them.

“What ice cream are you gonna get, peanut?” Beca asked.

“I don’t want any,” Blake said, frowning, kicking her shoes against the ground.

Beca shot a look of confusion at Chloe. She had been excited when they were in the car, and had seemed perfectly happy a few minutes ago when Beca had taken her hand to cross the street.

“Why not?” Chloe asked.

“I just don’t. I wanna go home,” she said. She stopped walking, so Beca and Chloe did too.

“Hey, what is it?” Chloe asked, crouching down in front of her. She pushed Blake’s dark brown hair out of her face, and lifted her sunglasses so she could see her eyes. “Are you not feeling well?”

“People keep taking pictures of us,” she said in a quiet voice. “And I don’t like it.”

Chloe glanced up at Beca in time to see her face fall.

“None of us like it very much,” Chloe said. “But your Mom is famous. And that means people wanna see pictures of her when she’s out and about.”

“Well I hate it!” Blake snapped. She looked past Chloe and let out a groan of annoyance. “They’re doing it again!”

Chloe turned and saw a man sitting at a table outside a coffee shop pointing his phone at them. He shoved it into his pocket and turned away when he realised he’d been caught.

Beca sighed, and took Riley down from her shoulders. Riley fussed and started crying when Beca put her back in her stroller.

“Sorry baby girl,” Beca said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Beca,” Chloe said in a warning voice.

“I’m just gonna talk to him,” Beca said.

She left Chloe with their daughters and approached the man.

She saw recognition dawn in other peoples’ faces as she got close.

“Hey,” she said, keeping her tone friendly. “Can you do me a favour and delete those pictures you took?”

“I didn’t-”

“Come on, man, even my nine-year-old clocked you. She doesn’t like having her picture taken, and I don’t like photographs of my kids being on some stranger’s phone,” Beca said. “I’ll happily take a selfie with you, if you want, but I’d really like it if you deleted those photos.”

“Yeah, I kinda don’t want a selfie,” he said. “TMZ won’t pay me anything for a selfie.”

Beca clenched her jaw and forced a smile. “Delete those pictures, dude.”

“No,” he said. “It’s a free country.”

Beca could feel the eyes of every other table watching them. She knew they had all fallen silent to eavesdrop.

“Delete the pictures of my fucking kids, do you hear me?” Beca said, trying to keep her voice down.

She was sick of this. Sick of the entitlement that these people had. Like they had a right to her life, and she was sick of the impact it was having on her family.

“Are you gonna make me?”

She saw he was pointing his phone at her again.

She swallowed down the anger that was building. “I’m asking nicely, dude. Delete those pictures.”

“I was taking them of you and Chloe,” he said. “You can hardly see the kids.”

“Is there a problem here?”

She looked at the man who had just arrived and figured he must work for the coffee shop, based on his brown apron with the shop logo, and the name tag that read ‘Dylan’.

“Beca fucking Mitchell here won’t leave me alone,” the guy said.

“This pervert took pictures of my kids!” Beca snapped back.

“What did you just call me?” He stood up from his chair quickly, the raised voice and abrupt noise of the chair scraping attracted more attention.

“How many other pictures of little girls are we gonna find on your phone? Let’s take a look,” she made a move to grab the phone off the table, but he tried to stop her, and caused it to slide off and onto the floor.

Without thinking, Beca drove the heel of her Doc Marten boot into it, hearing a satisfying crunch as the screen broke.

Yes, his pictures were probably already on the Cloud, but she didn’t care right now. He wasn’t going to be able to ruin anyone else’s day today.

“Yes!” One of the patrons of the coffee shop cheered. “Work bitch!”

“That was a $1,500 phone you… talentless whore!” He shoved her, hard, and Beca fell backwards into another table.

With a look of panic in his eyes he ran off, as Chloe rushed towards her with the girls.

“Mommy!” Blake cried, letting go of Chloe’s hand and running over to Beca who was now sitting on the ground, her hand gingerly touching the back of her head. “Mommy, he pushed you!”

She climbed onto her Mom’s lap and wrapped her arms around her.

“I know,” Beca said, hugging her daughter tightly. “But I’m okay.”

A bigger crowd had started to form around them now, and more people had their phones out. Beca could feel the panic building in her chest.

People were touching her, Beca didn’t know if they were trying to help her up or not, but she needed them to stop.

“Can I get through, please?” Beca heard Chloe shout. “Excuse me, I need to check on my wife.”

Dylan managed to clear a space for Chloe to get through with the stroller.

Riley was starting to get upset, and Chloe could see the panic rising in Beca’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, her voice as quiet as she could make it so Beca would still be able to hear, but that it might not carry to the crowd.

“I can’t be here,” Beca said, her voice shaking. “I don’t want them to see.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. She stood up and quietly asked Dylan if there was somewhere they could sit in private, and he nodded. “Blake, honey, can you help your Mom stand up?”

Blake climbed off Beca’s lap, and held out her small hand for Beca to take. Beca took it, and stood up as Blake pulled.

Dylan led them through the shop and to a small room with a couple of sofas that must have been meant for staff.

“I’ll make sure no one bothers you,” he said.

“Thank you,” Chloe said. “We really appreciate this.”

He left the room and closed the door behind him.

Beca dropped onto one of the sofas and let her head fall into her shaking hands.

She forced herself to take deep breaths as Chloe sat beside her, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back.

“Mommy?” Riley asked.

“Yeah?” Chloe replied.

“Can we get ice cream yet?”

Beca burst into tears without warning, which created the domino effect of Riley crying and then Blake crying.

“Okay,” Chloe said, surveying her tearful family. “Who needs a hug the most?”

“Mom does,” Blake said, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

“Can you give it to her while I take care of Riley?”

“Uh huh,” Blake said. She climbed onto Beca’s lap again, and Beca pulled her daughter into her arms. “It’s okay, Mom, the bad man is gone.”

“I know,” Beca said, trying to stop crying. “I’m just sad that he ruined Riley’s birthday.”

“We can still get ice cream,” Blake said. “I won’t be angry about people taking our picture anymore.”

“No, baby, you should be angry about that,” Beca said. “They don’t have your permission, so they shouldn’t be doing it.”

Her eyes met Chloe’s who was soothing a still sobbing Riley. Something was going to have to change.

They left the coffee shop once everyone had calmed down, and Beca gave them a big tip for the trouble they’d gone through.

They made it back to the car without any more trouble, and Beca ordered some ice cream on DoorDash to get delivered.

They hung out in their garden for the rest of the day, playing in the pool, and eating junk food.

Chloe kept noticing the smile that would slip from Beca’s face whenever she thought no one was looking.

Once the kids were bathed and put to bed, Chloe poured them both a generous glass of wine, and joined Beca on their comfy sofa in the living room.

“I don’t want you confronting people like that again, Bec,” Chloe said, trying to massage the tension out of Beca’s shoulders.

“I know,” Beca said, closing her eyes.

“I mean it,” Chloe said. “He could have hurt you.”

“I know,” Beca said again. “I promise, I won’t do that again.”

“Good,” Chloe said. She placed a kiss on the back of Beca’s head.

They were quiet for a while as Chloe continued slowly massaging Beca’s shoulders.

“Come on,” she said, planting a brief kiss on her neck. “Let's go to bed.”

They climbed the stairs, briefly checked on the kids, and then changed for bed.

“What are you thinking?” Chloe asked, watching Beca as stared up at the ceiling. She could see tears building in her eyes again, and she brushed one away with a sweep of her thumb.

“I don’t wanna do it anymore, Chloe,” Beca said, her voice breaking. “We can’t take our kids for ice cream. Blake is getting too anxious to leave the house, and Riley is gonna start picking up on that soon. You can’t even work anymore. I don’t… I don’t wanna be famous anymore, I don’t want to live in this stupid town, I don’t want any of it.”

“I know,” Chloe said, softly.

“I’m serious.” Her voice was wobbling dangerously now. “I can’t… It’s crushing me.” She brought up a hand to cover her face as she started crying. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, we can figure this out,” Chloe said, gathering Beca into her arms. “We’ll be okay.”

“It’s gonna kill me.”

“I know, baby, I know. But I won’t let it,” Chloe said. “Tomorrow we’re gonna call Theo, and we’re gonna figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Beca said, feeling calm relief begin to wash over her. Things were going to change. Things were going to get better. “I love you.”

“I love you too. No matter what your job is or where we live. I’m always gonna love you.”

[adezahnae]

My Roomie (Part 6)

A/N: Here’s Part 6 also the last part of this story!!! I hope you enjoy it🥺 I thank you for reading this series💕☺️

Warnings: plot twist, secrets, tension, angst, etc....

Tagged People: @ahgasearmyfan @whoreforshuaaa @nanascupid @winwiniee @stormxiii05

Your POV

“Well...It was three years ago, I had girlfriend just like you. She was innocent, barely knew nothing of the world. I wanted to help her see the world.” He explained. “Like corrupt her?” I asked. “I guess you could say that. So I did, I showed her everything she didn’t know, just how I did you. But as I was, Jamie took it as I was abusing her. He went behind my back and talked to her, bringing her from her state. She fell in love with him and left me for him. He made me so angry and I began to sleep with girls to try and forget her, but I couldn’t. That’s until I met you.” He said.

I nodded my head, playing with his sweatpants string. “He’s just as charming as you..” I giggled. He smiled a little. “Yeah..I guess so..” He replied, hugging me closer. “I have another question.” I said. “What is it?” He asked. “Who is Lia?” I asked. I felt him stop his movements. “Don’t worry about her..she’s nothing to me and never believe what she says.” He replied, kissing my forehead.

“Even when she said you got her pregnant?” I asked looking at him. “Not even that...” He smiled. I gave him a warm smile as well and he kissed my forehead. I yawned. “I love you...” I whispered under my breath. “I love you too..” He replied. I gasped. “You heard me?” I asked.

He nodded and kissed me again. “Go to sleep baby..” He whispered. I rested my head on his chest. “And tell that Bitch to stay in her place or I’ll beat her up more..” I mumbled. He let out a laugh. “Shh my baby..” He said, containing his giggles. I laughed a little and began to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat.

Jongin’s POV

After Y/n fell asleep it was around night, I got from bed and threw on a hoodie. I walked out the dorm to her dorm and banged on her door. She opened the door holding her son. My son. “What do you want?” She asked. I seen that she had bruises on her face and a busted lip. Wow Y/n, I’m impressed.

“Dada..” My son said making grabbing hands towards me. I took him from Lia’s arms and held him. “Get in.” I said pushing her inside the door. I closed the door behind me. “What?!” She asked, crossing her arms.

“What did you tell Y/n?” I growled. “That you got me pregnant.” She shrugged. “Like I said, that baby is not mine..” I said. “You said that last time and look what happened, Jordan was yours.” She said.

I rolled my eyes and sat down. “What? Can’t say anything now?” She asked walking up to me. “Get away from me, I’m with my son right now.” I said. She rolled her eyes. I bounced him in my lap as he giggled. A small smile came over my face as he did, reminding me of my own giggle. “I’m taking Jordan away.” She said. “What?!” I asked. “I’m taking him away. The adoption center. He’s going up for adoption.” She said.

“No, you’re not.” I said. “Uh, yes the hell I am. You’re never here to see him. You’re too busy fucking that Y/n girl. You can’t even own up to the one I’m pregnant with!” She exclaimed. I stood up. “You take my fucking child I swear I will end you.” I growled. “And your child.” She smirked patting her stomach.

“So this is what this is about? Because I’m not claiming that baby, you’re gonna take my ONLY son away?” I exclaimed back. She took Jordan from me and laid him in his crib. “You put him away and I will come for you. I don’t give a damn about your family nor your shitty ass brother.” I threatened.

“You’re gonna put your hands on me?! Huh?! I’ll put your ass in jail and you won’t see your son EVER again.” She exclaimed. “As I said, I will fucking end you bitch! Try me!” I yelled. “You expect that to scare me?! GET THE FUCK OUT!” “RAISE YOU FUCKING VOICE AGAIN!” I yelled back in her face.

Jordan began to cry in the crib. I took him from the crib and grabbed his bag and blanket. “WHERE AREYOU GOING WITH MY CHILD?! Y/N DOESN’T EVEN KNOW ABOUT JORDAN!” I sighed and stopped. She was right, I couldn’t take him back to my room, but I knew where to go. “Bye Lia.” I said walking out the door.

I walked down the empty stairs and halls to my car. I took Jordan’s car seat from the truck and put it in the passenger seat. I strapped him in securely and put the seatbelt over him. I got in the car and started it, driving off to where I wanted to go.

After a bit, I made it there and I took Jordan from his seat. I made my way up the stairs and I knocked on the door. Chanyeol opened the door with sleepy eyes and a sleepy Baekhyun behind him. “Let me in.” I said pushing pass the two.

“Why are you here so late? It 11pm..” Chanyeol asked. “I couldn’t sleep.” I said. “Why do you have Jordan? What happened?” He asked. “She went to Y/n telling her that I got her pregnant and so I wanted to talk to her. During a small argument we had, she said she was putting Jordan up for adoption. I can’t just let her have him.” I said.

Sehun came from his room and rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Jongin, what’s going on- JORDAN!!” Sehun gasped as he ran over and grabbed him. “Be careful! He’s trying to sleep.” I said. He rocked Jordan in his arms with a smile. “It’s my little nephew.” Sehun said. “So you got in an argument with Lia and she threatened to put Jordan up for adoption?” Chanyeol repeated. “Just because I won’t claim the child she’s pregnant with..” I sighed rubbing my temples.

“It’s Lucas’ child.” Baekhyun yawned. “Lucas? How do you know?” I asked. “He won’t shut up about it. He keeps saying I smashed Lia and got her pregnant and all. And I was there. The night she left your place, she went to Lucas’ and slept with him. She told him to take the condom off and everything. It was disgusting.” Baekhyun explained.

“You were in the room with him?!” Sehun exclaimed. “No dumbass, I heard it all.” Baekhyun replied. “I thought it was Chanyeol’s..” I said. Chanyeol made a face. “Hell no! I fuck around with her from time to time but that is NOT my child. No!” Chanyeol defended, making everyone laugh. “God she’s a slut. Yet she tells me I’m the only one she’s been with.” I said. “Because she trying to pin you down with the baby.” Baekhyun said. “Why..?” I replied. “Because she doesn’t like Y/n taking you away. She wants her to hurt and leave you so you will go back to her.” Baekhyun said.

I rolled my eyes. “That bitch has a damn death wish..” I said. “Yeah, but I think she’s scared of Y/n. She beat her ass in the hallway today.” Sehun said. I smiled. “She told me.” I said. “Oohhh you like Y/n!!” Baek teased. “Shut up! I’m just happy..” I said. “Yeah sureee..what happened to corrupting her and leaving?” Chanyeol asked. “I don’t know, I think she who I want to keep. She just like Grace...” I said. “You mean the girl your brother snatched from you?” Sehun asked.

I looked over at him with a death glare. “Uhhh....Your son is hungry!” Sehun said giving him back to me. I took Jordan from him and went into his bag. I pulled out a bottle and began to fed him. “How old is he now?” Chanyeol asked rubbing his hand over his head. “Ten months.” I said. “Aww..the cute thing..luckily he looks like you. Lia’s pretty ugly.” Baekhyun said.

“I heard the only thing she had good was pussy. She is pretty ugly. But like..how did you fuck that?” Chanyeol asked. “Face down, ass up position. Worked every time.” I replied taking Jordan’s bottle away. “Yeah...best way to have sex with a girl.” Chanyeol laughed. “Yeah, especially with Lia’s ugly ass.” Sehun agreed. Jordan let out a giggle make me smile. “He even knows his mother is ugly!” Baek laughed.

We all heard a knock on door and Lia’s voice. “CHANYEOL OPEN UP THE DOOR! JONGIN JUST TOOK MY-” She walked in and stopped in her tracks. “Give my son back.” She said walking up to me. “No. Get out.” I said. “I said give him to me!” She exclaimed, taking Jordan from my arms. He began to cry. “GIVE ME MY SON BACK!” I yelled. She grabbed his bag and walked away. “Say goodbye to him! He leaves in two days!” She exclaimed slamming the door behind her. “FUCK!” I yelled out sitting down on the couch.

“Hey Jongin...it’s okay..honest..” Baekhyun said. “No it’s not. I can’t deal with this shit. I have all of this nonsense going on in my life and yet..” I began to shed tears. “I can’t deal with another thing in my life. Not this..I can’t deal with this..” I said.

The Next Day...

Your POV

I was in the classroom, writing down my notes until I felt an urge in the pit of my stomach. I gasped and held my hand over my mouth, running to the outside of the classroom, throwing up in the trash can. My teacher came rushing out behind me.

“Y/n?! Y/n?! Are you okay?” She asked me. “I..feel..lightheaded..” I said feeling dizzy. I then blacked out. I heard my teacher calling the nurses and students to help me to the heath center.

- -

I woke up on the nurse bed. My teacher and the nurses and doctor talking. They all turned to me as soon as I sat up. The nurse and doctor smiled at me. “Hello ms. Y/n.” The doctor said. “Hi..what happened?” I asked. “You had a black out. We ran some tests on you and found something out.” The doctor said. “What?” I asked.

She smiled more. “You’re pregnant by almost a month.” She said. I felt my world stop. “What..?” I asked. “Congratulations!” The nurse said, stopping the machine that was on me and taking the attachment away from me. “Umm..okay, what about my family and all? D-Did you tell them?” I asked.

My teacher frowned. “Yeah...I contacted them and told them the news and..” “And what?” I asked. “They want nothing to do with you...” she said. Felt my heart break. “No..they..don’t want to talk to me?” I asked. “No..I’m sorry sweetheart..I’m here if you-” I shook my head and ran out the office, crying. I pulled out my phone and deleted their numbers.

How could they just abandon me? All because I’m pregnant?! I walked all the way back to my room and went to the one person who I could vent out to. Jongin...

- -

I walked in the dorm and found him in his room. “Hey baby.” I said. “Hey.” He replied. I walked over to him and crawled on his lap. “Do you love me?” I asked. “Why?” He replied rubbing his hands up and down my thighs. “Um, oh my gosh..Jongin..” I mumbled as he kissed me on my neck and ran his hands under my shirt.

He turned us around to where I was laying down and he lifted my shirt. I ran my hands down his back though his hair. He began to create a hickie on my neck I whimpered gripped onto his back. “I’m pregnant...” I whispered not exactly expecting him to hear. He stopped his actions and leaned up from my neck.

“What?” He asked. “I’m pregnant..” I repeated. He looked at me and got off of me. He walked out the room. I furrowed my eyebrows and followed after him. “So? You’re not gonna say anything?” I asked. “Why should I?” He replied. “What? No..you’re telling me that..you don’t want to help me with this?” I asked heartbroken.

“I don’t have time for it...” He said. “DON’T HAVE TIME FOR IT!? ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” I yelled. “I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR A BABY! NOT ANOTHER ONE!” He yelled back. “A-Another one? You have a baby?” I asked. He stopped in his tracks. “Like I said, I don’t have time for one..I have to go.” He said. “Where are you going?! I have no one to help me through this!!” I cried holding onto his arm.

“Stop touching me!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away. “You’re really gonna leave me? MY PARENTS JUST ABANDONED ME BECAUSE OF THIS! YOU’RE THE FATHER!” I cried. “Am I?” He asked putting on his shoes. I sobbed of disbelief. “Jongin...” I said. “I have to go. Bye.” He said. “YOU KNOW WHAT?! FINE!! GO! I HATE YOU!!” I yelled. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Then hate me. I don’t have time from you or that child.” He said walking out the door, leaving me there.

[mirkysconcubinefiction]

You Know

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader (****), Bucky

Summary: What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

Tags: Angst, Cheating, Broken Engagement, Drunk Texting/Video, attempt at Humor

AO3: Mirkys_Concubine

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You didn't need or want a boyfriend... Or girlfriend for that matter.

One minute you were fine and dandy wiping down a table and the next your tray whizzed through the air and smacked a perv in the head.

And again.

And again.

And again.

If someone gropes your ass the logical reaction would be murder. At least that's what your mama had taught you.

Kill them like the roach they were.

Maybe that's when he saw you more than a random part time human he interacted with? He had swooped in, plucked the tray out of your hand, and broke it in half over the guys head.

Of course you politely said thank you before landing a solid kick into the perv. Not the face. If there weren't cameras you'd have stomped on his head.

Twice.

The way your mama had taught you.

That was then.

Before routine.

When he had to stalk you for a date in his goofy bashful self. When his best friend would get a kick of the 'old Steve' that was a mess around girls. When he had... no... there was no sense in getting nalstagic.

While you didn't want a boyfriend you never expected to get married. Steve's friends had been more excited than you, magazines and samples had taken over the small breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. You lit them on fire on the roof in one of the communal pits and lounged with takeout and wine. It's where you sat and made the decision to leave.

You couldn't stay.

God what would your mother say if she had been alive? She'd be disappointed in you.

The ring was rose gold, shaped like an octagon, and while pretty you had been afraid you'd lose it. Tempting as it was to flush it down the toilet you left it in the freezer atop a bag of sweet corn.

You packed your clothes - the ones you had purchased - into one luggage, another luggage was your shoes and intimates, and your carry on bag was large enough for your toiletries and kindle.

The car you purchased - with cash and registered under an alias - had enough space in the trunk for the luggage. The lovely security guard had helped you - bless him - and then you drove off. You refused to look back and you refused to shed another tear.

Well planned and as thought out as one could get considering their ex was an avenger with questionable access to the interwebs. You waited until the Avengers were on a mission.

A friend of a friend helped with your makeup and prosthetics to make you look like an elderly man, and you had enough cash on you to fund a bank. No paper trails, no cell phones beyond a simple Nokia that had no internet access, and once you made it outside state lines and to a safe house you'll disappear.

Again.

No more chances at romance.

All men were the same.

Even all american test tube super hero's weren't immune to cheating and lying.

✖

Home.

It used to be warm, smelled of dessert, savory meals, music played in the background, **** off tune voice singing along, there was a garden scattered throughout the condo, fruit always filled a basket, and more importantly **** was there to make him feel human.

Less lonely.

Alive.

Loved.

Cherished.

That was home. One he worked hard to obtain.

What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

The glossy original prints hung from the ceiling right over their bed like a weird still mobile. With that thought Steve remembered the birth control pills and hoped she would never catch on as to how insane he really was over her.

The doorbell rang.

Had it been anyone else, Steve wouldn't have opened the door but instinct fueled his hand and trust didn't make him flinch as a fist hit him in the face and he was down. Dropped on his ass in his own home with an incensed soldier grabbing him by his shirt and tossing him like a rag doll before shutting the door and locking it.

✖

The island held an empty fruit basket and a ring. A frozen mockery of a promise he remembered in great detail from months ago. Bucky had found it as he had been gracious enough to offer a bag of frozen peas only to find a bag of sweet corn and a ring.

Steve wanted to cry.

He wanted to get angry.

He wanted to call Tony for a favor but he could do nothing but sit on a stool his fiancee, future wife, future mother to his children, now 'ex', had picked out.

Only Bucky would probably kill him if he so much as sniffled.

The bag of sweet corn smacked him across the face none too gently and Steve winced. The other stool creaked as the crack and hiss of a Fanta soda being opened. Yet another check against him, **** made a point to stock the fridge with his and Bucky's favorites.

"Hope she was worth it."

"Buck..."

"Blond, green eyes, fake tits, didn't know desperate was your type."

Steve shut both eyes and slouched, "It was a mistake."

Bucky's brows lifted, soda can midway to his lips. "Fucking her for two months is now a mistake?"

"Look... I tried to stop it. Every time we met it just... Happened." It was stupid and in a way so true. He had tried stopping but some how they always end up fucking and every time he promised himself it was the last.

"Bullshit!" The can bent as it was slammed onto the counter. "You don't commit to marriage and then run off to fuck some floozie from legal!"

"I'm sorry!" Steve snapped, "I know I fucked up! It's on all the fucking walls!" Which was true. Even the fridge door had a blown picture of his face between slender legs and the freezer door a blown up shot of his cock being sucked. "I need to find her, apologise, and fix this." Bucky snorted, "I can fix this."

"**** has more respect for herself than you do of her."

"I love her." He did. Steve loved **** more than he'd love Peggy.

"You don't love a woman like **** and then fuck a bitch behind her back."

"It was a mistake." Steve grit out, irritated.

"Two months isn't a mistake. That's a fucking affair. Litteraly. You fucked like rabbits."

Steve stared, a frown tugging at his lips. "How do you know?"

Bucky stood and went for another soda only to stare at the woman splayed out for the world to see, "She is hot. Better looking than ****. It would've hurt more if you'd downgraded."

"**** is perfect!" Steve spat, throwing the bag of mushy corn where it burst as it hit a well.

"Look at her though." Bucky tapped on the breasts, "Nipples are spaced perfectly, more than a handfull, kudos to her surgeon."

"Kudos? When do you say kudos?"

"Must be on a low carb keto diet or those green smoothies, and even her belly button is worth cumming over."

Steve stared. Horrified. What was going on?

"And look at her skill!" A metal knuckle tapped at where the womana nose pressed against Steve's pubes. "Porn quality. The type of girl you want to teach you some shit."

"You know where she is." It wasn't a question. Bucky didn't talk like that. The man was a storm of swears, stares, and threats. Not... this. "Where is she?"

"Wish I knew so I could tell you to fuck off."

"She couldn't have gone far if she met with you, I might have time..."

"I haven't spoken to **** and i don't expect to hear from her again actually." Bucky ignored his friend's glare as he rummaged through the fridge for another soda and snagged a bag of cookies because only **** would hoard cookies in a refrigerator. "She left her phone in my apartment and instructions to watch her video."

"What?"

Bucky pulled out **** phone tucked on the inside of his jacket and tossed it to the other man. He returned to his seat, opened his soda, and munched on his cookies.

The phone wasn't password activated and a quick search proved most of the personal stuff like pictures and apps were deleted except for a single video.

Hey Tiny.

**** personal nickname for Bucky who had lost a bet but secretly was amused by it. The phone shook as **** had nearly dropped it with a swear. She looked as if she had been crying and she was chugging from a bottle of plum wine. Her favorite wine.

Just wanted to say i will miss you and i love you. Like, really, really love you. I'd give you my kidney sorta love.

She giggled and sipped at her bottle, eye's roaming the room. Tears slipped from her eyes and Steve felt his own burn. **** was a mess. She used a sleeve to wipe at her nose and her smile was shaky.

I redecorated, Steve will love it.

The camera flipped and **** showed off the wallpaper of porn. The condo looked trashed and luggage was open on the living room floor half packed and takeout piled on the coffee table.

I figure since he loved to fuck random pussy he'd like this theme. I call it *Whore of Narcissism*

The camera swivels and zooms into a familiar picture of the woman laid out and the hand holding the bottle points at the woman.

Not her. She not a whore Tiny. Ok!

The camera swivels to another portrait of Steve's face.

He's a cunt faced whore.

The camera switches and **** is giggling again.

Shhh. Look what I did. Put it it on the fridge door, that's where I keep the fish sticks.

Bucky snorts and Steve barely refrains from giving the man the finger.

See. Cunt whore faced.

**** giggles

Don't tell him but he can't eat pussy. He can't, he misses the clit. Like how do you miss this?

The phone tilts and Steve swears as she's wearing practically nothing. It wasn't her sexy underwear but the shear laced thong left little to be hidden.

It's right there, see it pokes out a bit too.

**** bumps her pussy with the bottom of edge of the wine bottle.

How can he miss it?

"It gets better." Bucky happily munches on a cookie.

"Fuck you."

Look. Just look.

There's a thunk as the bottle was set down and **** shoves aside her underwear and it was a crooked close up of her manicured pussy.

How is this not buffet worthy? My pussy tastes like sin yet he treats it like a McD's drive through. My pussy is not a Big Mac! It's MSG!

The phone jerks up back to her face and she's angry.

Chinese buffet MSG quality. My pussy is it's own zodiac sign ok!

Bucky's shoulders are shaking and Steve is mortified.

Maybe he likes her sauce though?

The camera points to his head between the girls legs.

He never spends forever with me but with her... I got so many pictures of her and he is just there. I have a buffet he can eat from and he chooses this...

Her hand smacks on a breast.

She's hot Bucky. Look at her. She's fucking perfect and her tits are fucking perfect. You see them? Nipples spaced perfectly, bigger than his hands, kuddos to whoever worked on her, she's a fucking art piece, I wanna know her surgeon, I want tits like hers.

The camera shifts and **** holds the camera up at an angle downward as she unhooks her bra with one hand and slips one arm out while it dangles from the other and she's touching herself.

See one's smaller.

"Did you..." Steve couldn't get it out as he watched his fiance complain about her breasts on camera to his best friend. Brother.

"Fuck her?" Bucky crushes his empty soda can, "I'm not you. If I had that in my bed I wouldn't get complaints about my mouth."

... at least she's hot you know. If he's going to fuck another bitch at least she's beautiful. I'd die if he downgraded you know. He fucked her in the office you know. Her office. She's beautiful and educated and I'm a mess.

The wine bottle was back in her hands and she took a long swallow uncaring that she was half naked.

I'm sorry Tiny. Bucky. I'm... This... I should delete this one but my battery is gonna die so fuck it. I'm leaving. When you see Steve punch him. I can't be there when he gets back. I'll kill him.

She sipped her wine and her brows furrow.

She has to be on some low carb keto diet... I don't think I can drink those green smoothies but I would have. I could look like a porn star! I can look plastic too!

Her eyes go wide before she blinks and frowns.

I can get wigs and wear those waist thingy's and change names... We could have role played. I would have called him daddy or - or - dirty stuff. I could have been his whore you know. I'm not a basic bitch Tiny. If she were my friend she'd teach me to not choke!

**** shakes her head and takes another swig.

I want to hate her but she... Bucky she was crying. He lied to her, for two months he lied to her, and she brought me ice cream Bucky. I couldn't hit her. She got me chocolate.

Her eyes narrowed and the sadness was swept away.

I want to hurt him. Rip his heart out through his ass and shove it down his throat! I planned it too, killing him. Got explosives... was gonna put a trigger thing on it and boom. Take out the whole floor.

**** makes a boom noise before flopping on the couch atop folded clothes, her wine bottle gone from her hands.

Neighbors got a kid downstairs and... Kids... No kids.

She rubs her face, tears leaving tracks and her breadth hitches and she's doing her best to not break down.

I was right. I told you there's no such thing as happily ever after. I told you they're all the same. I'm...

Her breath hitches and she's staring into the lens. Broken.

I'm not perfect Bucky, I'm not her but I loved him. I believed him. You said... Said he was good and I be-believed you cuz I trusted you and I want... Wanted... I deserve to be loved. I am good enough... I'm good... Right? Bucky... Why... Why am I not good enough? what did I do wrong? I... I... I'm sorry.

The phone tumbles and the screen goes dark but Steve can't hold back his own tears as he hears her sob before it cuts off completely.

What had he done?

How did he fix this?

Can he fix this?

End...

Part 2 of 1/2

[veronicaduartes]

Thoughts

So, the thing is... I feel devastated.

I loved somebody, gave him my all and he trew me away like a pile of trash. As if he never cared for me and the last 2 years of my life were just wasted.

I worked so hard on these last 2 years, I come from a broken family, abusive father, emotionally-unavailable mother (she did her best though, she had it DAMN hard all her life). On January 2020 I got into a car crash and no one believed my version of the story, they prefered to believe I was drunk-driving (which I wasn't) and it was all my fault (which it wasn't).

So I got really resentful and decided to get myself a job, stop depending on my mother and having to put up with all the shame inflicted on me. I started working at a call center, barely made minimun wage salary but I was saving as much money as I could to get out of my house (rent a room somewhere since it was all I could afford).

At the same time, I was dating a really nice guy, that I had only met a couple of months prior. He was 6 years older than me and already had a stable job so he decided to move out with me, wherever we decided to go.

It's April now, and on the 24th night of the month we moved in together. I was on cloud 9, we were so happy, I had a the shittiest job but coming home to him and watching TV together was everything I wanted and it was worth every damn second answering the phone.

But as the months passed the guy I loved grew apart from me. Suddenly we were not spending the nights together, all he did was play videogames with his friends all night until 7am in the morning sometimes, while I was growing lonelier and lonelier. Sex wasn't even happening, and I thought he didn't want me anymore. I told him about my discomfort and he promised to make some time for me.

Some more months passed and it was ok, but the situation repeated itself, and of course I was sad again. Many hours of thinking and analyzing patterns later, I decided it wasn't working anymore for me and it was time to call it quits.

I don't know what I expected that night but as the time came, I told him to break up. He seemingly reacted very calm and peacefull so I told him we could stay friends. The next day I had to go to work, I felt really sad but hadn't even realized in my mind that our relationship was over, until I received a text from him that said "I'm moving out on Thursday". That text just sunk into my stomach and as I got home to find an empty house it felt even worse. He had already gone to his parents' house, without even saying goodbye.

I was incredibly dissapointed, I thought that if he loved me he would've fight back, or at least not ran away on the first shot he got. Anyway, so he told me he was coming on Wednesday to organize his stuff into boxes and move out Thursday in the morning. I told him we could have a last dinner together, just to give some closure to me, as I felt I needed closure and so we did. Turns out on Wednesday night after talking a couple of hours he ended up crying and asking me if he could stay. I told him he had made the strongest desition by hiring that truck to move out and getting all his shit into boxes so, there was no backing off now. (By the way, some of the appliances were his' such as the refrigerator which he did not hesitate to leave me with all the food on the floor to rot as he took his damn refrigerator). On the next morning I told him goodbye and we went our separate ways.

Since I couldn't pay the rent all by myself I was left with no other choice than to go back to my parents' house. They helped me with the moving but I still felt like a damn failure coming back, while I still mourned the end of our relationship and cried myself to sleep every night.

Some weeks passed and one morning, I woke up with a text of his telling me "I miss you". I told him I missed him too (which I really did) and so we agreed to meet once again to talk. We met and the inevitable happened: after some crying we got back together. Still living apart though. Months passed and everything was going great! Still had our arguments but by this time we had already figured out how to talk our differences with love and patience.

**At this point I need to give you some important context: since I come from a broken family, I DON'T want kids. I really don't want to have kids of my own, not as of now or in the future. I don't discard adopting, I believe that's a very beautiful way to become a parent, but I really do not want to go through pregnancy and all those things having a baby comes with. I have always been very honest about it when I'm meeting people because on past relationships I've had this issue. So, since I was meeting this guy I was talking about, back on 2019, I told him I didn't want kids and he seemed to be on the same page as me. He even told me he wanted to get the male contraceptive injection that was soon going to be available on the market. Everything seemed fime.**

So, back to the story. On January 2021, my boyfriend's sister found out she was pregnant, everyone on his family was really happy because, on the contrary as myself, they have a really beautiful, happy and healthy family (everything I wished for). I was really happy for them as well and my boyfriend and I even went shopping some nice things for the baby. We bought the cutest and fluffiest bear costume. It was adorable.

As more months passed, I saw my boyfriend getting more and more excited about babies and the idea of having babies. Since he knew my position, he eventually taked to me about wanting to have babies in the future. I told him my position has not changed and most likely it will not change. I can't predict the future of course and can't know what my mind will think on 5-10 years, but I was honest with him and told him that the odds of me changing my mind are quite low, not to say inexistant. But he was confused, he still didn't know if he wanted kids or not. So I told him "think about it and whenever you have made up your mind, let me know".

On August 27th, about 12 am in the morning, his nephew was born, strong and healthy. I was really happy for all his family, since I know how much they already loved that boy. I sent them my best wishes and since he came out by c-section, they had to stay in the hospital for a couple of days.

Later that same day, I published some stupid game on instagram which really doesn't matter much what it was about but somehow it got us into a discussion and he told me "this is one of the best days of my life for you to fuck it up"... Those words really took me by surprise, I was happy and silly, literally just joking him around but he reacted very strongly and rude.

How in the hell is it ever going to be my intention to ruin his day? I thought he was very defensive. He stoped taking to me and returned hours later. However, I was really hurt and I felt like we really needed to talk about it. He sort of apologized but we couldn't continue the conversation since he was already sleepy and told me if we could continue the next day. I told him it was fine, of course.

The next day came and he didn't remember to get back to the conversation, he just pretended as if everything was fine. Another day passed so I reminded him and he told me it was late already and he was tired, so if we could talk the next day (again). A week passed and he never remembered to catch up with the conversation (or ignored it). I still felt sad and hurt and so, when making plans for the weekend I told him how I felt and that we needed to talk. We agreed on a day and place, but he followed telling me he knew I have been upset but he just ignored me... So basically that started the fight once again. How the hell if you know someone you love is upset and sad you just ignore it? Do you care how I feel at all? Some things were said and I didn't understand where did this sudden hate come from.

Ever since the baby was born he had been defensive and treating me badly like that (something I had never seen before on him). I was utterly confused until he confessed it to me: he was somehow angry with me because I do not want kids..... I had no words, how the hell was I supposed to knew that? It did make a lot of sense though, his behaviour was immediately explained to me. However he started blaming me on his smoking and a bunch of other crap I have no blame on. Turns out he told me: he decided he does wants kids and therefore I no longer had a place in his life. I told him to tell me, to confirm me if that meant we were breaking up, to at least have the guts to tell that to my face (metaphorically cause this conversation was all by text). I begged him for a goodbye, once again, to get some closure. I deserve closure, but he wasn't even able to tell me goodbye. To tell me I was a good girlfriend, to thank me for all the love I gave him, for all the times I had advised him, for all the memories we had together, to thank me for at least giving him my all. He knew I loved him, he really did.

And I respect his reason, I really do. If he wants kids and I don't then there's no point of staying together if we're going on different paths. However, it's been a week from the breakup. I'm still here devastated, crying, stalking his twitter every 5 minutes to see if there's any clue that he might be thinking of me. But all I see is the opposite. He's saying that he's happy, posting pictures with his baby-born nephew, it's almost as if I never meant anything to him. One week with the baby and I'm already out of his life. Am I so damn disposable? Does he not remember any of the happy moments we spent together? All the love that I gave him? How I even fought my own family to defend him? How I cared for him... It sucks, it really sucks.

The next morning after the breakup he had already deleated all his pictures with me on social media. So, on the next day I did the same. Oh how damn hard it was to delete that video I made about us and our adventures... I spent about 8 hours collecting little clips of our trips and I loved the end result so much... and now it's gone... forever, along with our memories.

It really sucks, some days I am ok, with just a little hole inside of me but overall ok... and some other days I feel like I want to die (yes, literally die). I cry everytime I remember. I have no friends. I can't tweet about how damn sad I feel because I don't want any of his friends or my friends even to see me how devastated and dependant I am.

The thing is, I don't believe he understands how much he meant to me... how much I loved him and how safe I felt on his arms. He's got lots of friends, a supporting family, tons of hobbies... while I'm here depressed, no job, no friends, nobody to talk to, living in my parents' house. I literally feel as if this 2 years, I tried so hard and it ended up being all wasted. I'm back to square one: no job, no money, no relationship. Lonely and sad once again.

I wish I could be like those strong women who stay single for very long periods of time... but I'm lonely. I usually need someone to hear me, someone to talk to. I like having someone to share my life with.

Sometimes I hate myself for having this romantic expectation of a perfect relationship that lasts forever and the love flame never dies... I guess Disney channel really damaged me. The dream is slowly dying though, at this moment I'm all out of hope. I know there are some men out there that would like to be with me, but I see no point in that.

First of all, I'm not interested in anybody. I don't like anybody, I don't even want men near me. I'm literally out of hope and I don't even want to meet anybody because eveything will eventually end up this way. I don't believe anymore. And it's dangerous to be out of hope.

Sometimes I'm scared, like, literally scared to become suicidal or something. Right now I'm not, sometimes I wish to die but I don't think I'm brave enough to do it myself. And then I stop to think that my mom doesn't deserve that pain. But yeah, sometimes I'm scared I may end up like Chester Bennington; with so many songs that basically were a cry for help but nobody ever took it that way because he looked so healthy and confident.

And I know I'm a great actress, I know people don't even suspect I have been fighting depression for years now. Every single day is a struggle and I'm tired already. I'm honestly so tired to be battling every day I just want to be free and give up but I can't since my demons are all inside of me.

I quit my job a month ago cause I thought that would give me happiness but guess what? Yeah, it didn't. Somehow it was easier having something to blame, than realizing that the only one to blame is yourself.

My boyfriend knew I was having a hard time with these thoughts already, he told me I should go to therapy. But I have no money to spend on therapy... and also, as I said in the beggining, nor do I have a supporting family, if they know I want to go to therapy they will think I'm crazy.

I have always been very strong, and showcased myself as a really strong woman, who thinks and analyzes and makes rational desitions... but it was always been just an act, when I'm by myself I cry a lot, I have a lot of traumas which I have been working really hard on for years now, but as I said, I'm tired.

I'm so tired of having to fight a battle everyday, I honestly just want peace and I'm scared I will never find it. Cause I can't stay like this for much longer. I know I won't hold up all my life with this sadness.

I quit my job because I wanted to start my own business. At first I was so excited about it but now I just can't find ANY motivation to work at all.

I don't know if he left me because I'm crazy and too much to handle, which reinforces my lack of hope in relationships. It has happened to me before, I don't know if all men are the same and they all forget you once they have you, which really sucks... Or if on the contrary, I keep seeking emotionally-unavailable people, just as my childhood attachment...

At least right now some friends have showed up and I have told them I've been having a hard time with this breakup (haven't told about all the other issues though, but it's a first step)... though I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it. I don't want to burst into tears and dramaticly crying in public, but oh well... We'll see how it goes.

Right now, all these thoughts are making me crazy. Sometimes I'm angry with my ex-boyfriend for leaving me right when I needed him the most... but it was a relationship doomed to end, and somehow deep inside me I always knew it. Still, that doesn't remove all the pain I'm feeling right now. If anything, just makes me blame myself for letting it come this far and letting myself fall so hard in love with somebody I knew wasn't right.

I don't know what to do right now... I'm dying to talk to him, but I know I must not. He doesn't miss me, he never loved me as much as I loved him (I don't know if he even has the capability of loving so deeply as I loved him) and we're not even compatible and I wasn't even enjoying his company so much lately... but you know, my feelings do not act by reason and I HATE them so much because of that. I feel like they dominate me, instead of me dominating them.

I gotta be strong and reasonable... These are the moments where I wish I had faith in God or something to give me strenght but I don't even believe in anything.

Why do we always cry and suffer so much about people that don't even deserve it? People that are no good for us...

Songs in my mind right now:

* Phil Collins - Against all odds

* Olivia Rodrigo - Good 4 u

* Olivia Rodrigo - All I want

* Taylor Swift - Cardigan

* Selena Gomez - The heart wants what I wants

Most likely no one will read this, but it helped me try to organize some thoughts in my head so that's enough for me. Luckily, no one uses tumblr anymore.

[bitchiha]

A/N: I accidentally posted the request before I finished LOL. So I don’t know much about Tsundere relationships, but I did some reading on it just before I started writing and I hope I did the request some justice! Also I’m literally Kankuros bitch <3

Ps, I’m sorry I didn’t put a keep reading thingy idk how to do it on mobile and my trash laptop is broken 😭😭

Also I didnt include tobirama bc I absolutely hated how his turned out and I had to delete it im sorry 😖

✎ Tsundere relationship! (Hidan, Kank, Naruto)

Kankurō

Ahh, where to start? I think you’ll meet on a mission co partnered with the Leaf...

You and Shikamaru are sent to assist the Sand on a mission. Now, we already know Kankurō is a bit of a sassy mf when it comes to the Leaf like I think he whole heartedly believes the Sand is superior and you also have those feelings about your own village... So there’s an instant dislike for one another. Kinda like an instant rivalry.

Literally the first thing you say to him is “So, the Sand can’t take care of their own missions?” And that sets Kankurō off, “What, how dare you- ack! Temari, that hurt! I’m not gonna let her walk all over us like that, I’ll fight you right now you Leaf Village bi- ow! Temari!” Shikamaru has to hold you back LMFAOO you’re ready to throw hands “Huh, what’s that? Sounds like you’re really determined for me to kick your ass?” He lowkey liked when you said that to him lol.

Anyways, the two of you are bickering the whole entire way to the missions destination. You’ll tease eachother about anything and everything you can. So, once you find out about his puppet master jutsu its only natural that you fall on the floor with laughter. Like full on tears and strangled breathing. Now this is something you can really tease him about.

“What! You still play with dolls? I bet you have little sleep over parties with them and do their hair-“

You’re cut off because he tries to trap you in the Ant. Temari has to strangle him and force him to let you out. You’re lucky he didn’t iron maiden your ass LMFAOO.

This is the kind of the energy you guys carry whenever you see eachother from now on. He’ll see you more often too because you carry out a lot of Leaf and Sand allied missions and duties. Rip to anyone who gets put on a mission with you two tbh.

But on one particularly hard mission it ends up down to the two of you fighting off like 10 enemies. He’s trying to focus on fighting them, but he can’t stop thinking about if you’re okay. His distractedness earns him a particularly hard blow.

You end up having to fight off the remaining enemies yourself, all the while protecting him. The last thing he remembers is you screaming his name when he gets hit and the fear that was in your eyes at seeming him like that. It slowly turns to anger and then you kick the bad guys asses. He’s like half conscious but is laying there like: whatta bad bitch. Then he passes out.

Starts to really admire you after that and his comments aren’t as snarky when he sees you next. It’s more like little jabs and teases because that’s how he shows his affection, but they were no longer the hardcore roasts he’d dish out before. You probably stop flaming his ass too because let’s be real here; you’ve both obviously been attracted to each other from the start you just didn’t want to admit it.

Like cmon, he didn’t wait for you at the gates every single time he knew you were visiting just to insult you first. No. He came there to see your cute ass first!!Same goes for you, like you didn’t take all the missions to the Sand for nothing. You came there to see your fav hot headed puppet master.

He’ll ask you out a few months later, when you end up at the Sand again. Probably takes you to dinner before going back to his place. I 100% see him showing you his puppets and this time you’ll actually show your interest and not just tease him lol. Probably ends up making out with you on his workbench. Ok that’s all.

Naruto

You meet eachother for the first time at Ichirakus. Second to Naruto, you actually bring in the most cash for the place. So it’s surprising you two had never met each other before.

Until now of course. He’s just gotten back from a long mission and he’s dying for some ramen. He strolls right in and orders a miso pork ramen, but the old man tells him there’s no more pork left.

Probably flips his shit like who tf ate it all?? Then the old man points at you. You’re sitting there chowing down you’re literal 15th bowl, the giant stack of empty bowls next to you proving it. You watch the blondie charge right at you while you eat the last miso pork bowl of ramen for the day.

You put the bowl down and wipe your face just as he stops right infront of you, very close to your face. You can see the anger in his eyes, but you are not giving up. Also, the guy looks sorta comical so you basically laugh in his face which gets him more worked up.

“What are you laughing about? You just ate all of old mans pork for the day!! That last bowl is mine, believe it!” Once again you laugh in his face because you just can’t help yourself. Probably end up fist fighting eachother on the spot. Neither of you win because one of you ends up smashing into the bowl, sending it flying right at the old man. He kicks you both out, right after you pay your tab of course.

This arises a competition of who will eat all the miso pork ramen first, it goes on for a good few months. Ichirakus is swimming in your money now. Until one day, when you two arrive at Ichirakus at the same time. You basically have a show down. Unfortunately both your wallets are cleaned out and you can’t even pay off your bills anymore so you’re now indebted to the ramen place.

Narutos mission money won’t even cut it anymore and you can’t pay your debt off either. So you both have to get a job doing Ichirakus dishes until you can pay your debt off.

At first you two wanna strangle each other everytime youre in each others line of sight. But slowly — veryyyy slowly, you start to bond over your love for ramen. Like you can probably sniff the bowls before you clean them and tell instantly what ramen was eaten out of it.

You discover you both have the same favourite instant ramen, the same favourite Ichirakus order, etc... Then before you know it you actually start dating. Nobody knows how it happened because you were rivals for a good couple of months, but now all the sudden your holding hands while and eating ramen together peacefully. Mind blown.

Hidan

You’re a brand new Akatsuki member and you’re cute. Really cute. Not only was Deidara drooling over you too, Kakuzu just asked to file your taxes. Do you even do taxes? You’re a rouge ninja. Anyways, Hidan is so sure that Jashin would love to have you.

You two start taking to eachother and actually getting along pretty well, until he mentions Jashin. You shut him down so quickly after that. Like you’re not interested in his fake God, no matter how cute he is.

From then on he tries to ignore you or is just super petty towards you all the time. Like you just got back from a failed mission with your Akatsuki partner and he’s at the hideout mocking you like “if you prayed to Jashin with me this wouldn’t have happened.”

Literally so fucking petty.

Anytime you suggest an idea to the Akatsuki he immediately tears it down. It doesn’t really matter when he does though because nobody really listens to Hidan anyways, it’s just annoying.

You two get put on a mission together one day because Kakuzu has some important money buisness to take care of. Hidans so pissy about it, “oh come on! Out of everybody you picked y/n? She doesn’t even respect my religion, how are we supposed to work together!?” Kakuzu just looks at him and is like “Hidan, I don’t care about Jashin either.”

Butthurt the whole journey. If you guys get bombarded or run into trouble he probably doesn’t even bother backing you up. If anything he tries to feed you to them LMFAOOO. Such a jerk.

Then, once he thinks that all the bad guys are gone he turns to you all confidently because you got your ass whooped and he’s like “see, I bet if you prayed to Jashin you wouldn’t be injured this bad-“

An enemy just stabbed him right through the chest and he watches the look of shock on your face. That’s when he gets an idea. He falls on the floor super fucking dramatically and you have to take the last guy down for him.

Then you kneel next to him and cradle his body because yes he was such a petty bitch but he actually started to grow on you. So you cry and in this distressed moment you probably even attempted to pray to Jashin because you’re desperate as fuck.

This bitch really makes his eyes flutter open and is like; “y/n?” Really fucking plays off that he was unconscious, “Jashin... Jashin saved me.”

Your ass just got clowned but I mean you believe it because like he just got stabbed right through the heart. Even immortal people should die if they were stabbed in the heart, right? It seemed like it was the case.

So yah he basically just emotionally manipulated you into being semi interested in his religion.

Then he stops being petty with you and probably asks you to sleep with him as an offering to Jashin. “It’s only fitting! He just saved my life afterall.”

Literal definition of a sleeze bag <3

[zmediaoutlet]

6, 7 and 15 for the ask meme thingy

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve

6. If you could rewrite one season, which one would it be? Why?

ohoooo another opportunity, this time let’s take on s14 since we both want to kick that season in its tiny undescended nads:

First: We’re ditching that terrible, terrible Peaky Blinders cosplay. Jensen, what were you thinking. Don’t let the talent dress themselves, yikes. It’s more interesting if he’s in either a superslick suit or in pseudomilitary gear. He’s a soldier, after all.

Second: We’re ditching the terrible, terrible teefy monsters, but we can keep supermonsters as a plot. The point is that we’re not going to drop it four seconds into creating it as a storyline because that’s dumb as fuck, why would you do that.

Michael has Dean and decides he’s going to go for a spin. He checks out the world and then goes, mmyeah, we’re going to definitely trash this world too, it’s balls and I’m going to trash daddy’s work because I get to, fuck him. He creates his even-worse monsters and lets them loose, and then abandons Dean with a propped door inside as before because why not, that wasn’t that bad--and so Dean’s hollowed-out and shocked and doesn’t know what he did, but it was awful, and then -- and this is key -- there are RAMIFICATIONS FROM THAT and Dean’s iffy and weird and PTSDy in a way which is a Dean-version of how Sam was for a while in s7. Not hallucinations but he’s not steady, leaving Sam off-kilter because if stone number one isn’t rock-solid, then what is?

Nick is a nagging, awful problem at the back of Sam’s head. He’s keeping him in the bunker but he hates that because there’s Lucifer’s face, looking at him all the time. When Nick bails Sam gets mad but he’s honestly relieved---he has Dean to handle, and the refugees to pretend to care about, and if Nick’s gone then at least he doesn’t have yet another problem on his plate. Still, he’s not an idiot and so he has people looking for Nick. Nick *was* the one who killed his family, because that’s more interesting, but let’s say he was tempted into doing it by a demonic agent, who he’s looking for not to punish but to find out more about Lucifer; Nick then becomes the deuteragonist of the season---an empty vessel desperately seeking his archangel, while Dean is empty and trying desperately to fill that empty with anything else.

Aiak is instantly deleted from the universe never to return.

Starting from those better building blocks, you can go a few different ways with the cruise to the ending. I like the Jack’s Soul Issues storyline fine (and I wouldn’t want to miss out on that whole The Accident thing, plus it’s great that he kills Mary). We can definitely smooth out some of the goofier parts (e.g. that awful hunter wake, oh my gawd, what), but it’s the *focus* on the three main things of the season that’s important: Dean and Michael, Lucifer and Nick, Sam and Not Actually Caring About People Who Aren’t Dean Even If He Really Really Tries.

7, already did this one, but I’m gonna answer a different question: If I could watch only one arc for the rest of my life what would it be, and it would be the Sam and Dean’s Epic Divorce Drama Ending In A Marriage stuff from Carver’s run. Not a season except it is in my heart and it is pure [sweat drops emoji]

15. What is the first episode that ever made you cry? (if any)

The one where Jo and Ellen die, because Ellen saying her name knowing there wasn’t going to be an answer was instant, instant waterworks. Sad moms? Can’t do it. :c   I never cried over any of the Sam and Dean deaths (until that last one) because they were always coming back. Ellen’s baby died in her arms. I mean, fuck. I’m getting hot-eyed just thinking about it. </3

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you do something about the flat share being super protective afterwards and Sander coming to apologize and just fix it?? // and when Sander will push him away he's gonna isolate himself and he’s gonna self destruct soooooo can you write something about it?

It’s not at all an easy fix so I guess this will need some more parts...

---

His mom noticed his cut as soon as he got inside her bedroom on his first visit in a while, but she didn't insist when he said it was just an accident. Robbe’s phone is constantly off these days, Zoe is the only one that knows where he goes.

He was actually listening to his mom talk about her day, Robbe was trying to be present with his mom, sitting on a blue armchair, looking at her, with his feet on the white floor. Time flew by and Robbe didn't want to leave, he wanted to lie down with her and watch a movie, it didn't even have to be a good one, but he had to go. On every day of the week, he did the exact same thing.

He managed to stay just a little longer today, the nurse was nice enough to let him say goodbye for a very long time, she knew he didn't come to visit often.

The night was cold, but it was good to keep his mind busy, only worrying about keeping himself warm as he walked the long way back home, listening to music. He erased the playlist days ago and choose one that was as far away from that as possible.

It took almost double the time to get to his building, but unfortunately, he was freezing and he had to come inside, turning the notifications on his phone on again. It’s Friday and he receives a bunch of messages right away, but he just turns his phone off again and runs upstairs. He hasn’t really slept in days so he’s just trying to get his body tired enough to the point where he manages to close his eyes and disappear for days when he lies down.

Zoe found the beers hidden inside his closet days ago and Robbe didn’t have the strength to fight anymore, so he just told her. Everything. Thinking about it now that he is calmer, he can remember exactly how everything came out of his mouth without a warning. When he was done, he felt drained and she stayed with him for the entire night, worried that he could do something terrible.

He tried to tell her that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, but she didn’t believe him. She slept on his bedroom that night and every few minutes ever since she has sent a message and if he doesn’t reply right away, she might call the cops to come after him and so he just answers even though he doesn’t feel like it.  

That night at the bridge was one single thought that took him there and he never thought about it again, but he feels helpless and empty inside. There’s not a single cell inside of him that wants to leave his bedroom ever again. He only goes to visit his mom because she’s the one to give him some kind of hope that someday, he might feel again. 

It’s hard to explain even for himself what it feels like. He hasn’t cried once, but that’s what people do when they’re at the bottom, right? Feeling like there’s no way out of their misery. Robbe doesn’t feel a thing. Maybe Sander taught him how to shut down completely, separating his mind from his heart. 

But Robbe is willing to try. He can’t keep getting drunk every night. His beers are gone and Zoe is constantly checking on him. So he needs to restart somewhere. 

Tonight, the first task that he gives himself is to clean his bedroom. It’s too cold outside, but he opens the windows anyway, letting some fresh and cold air get inside while he takes his sheet off, taking it to the laundry to wash. While everything is washing, he grabs the trash bag filled with empty beer cans and takes it to the recycling bin. 

While he waits for his lasagna to be ready, he stares at his phone. Before he can feel pity for himself, he deletes Sander’s number, their conversations and every photo that he has of Sander. 

The lasagna is not great, it’s a little cold in the middle, but he eats all of it anyway, washing the dishes as he drinks one of Senne’s fancy beers. He doesn’t wanna talk about it, Robbe can’t remember the last time he had an actual conversation with anyone else but Zoe and his mom, but he needs to explain what happened to Milan. Robbe is becoming a pro at hiding from everyone else, but he needs to talk to Milan and tell him everything.

In between their conversation in the bathroom that morning and seeing Sander back with his girlfriend, Robbe didn’t have the courage to tell him about why he was hurt a couple of weeks ago. He could see that Milan was worried and he’s smart and he’s gay, he probably has a very good guess of what happened to Robbe, but he waits for Robbe to be ready. And he’s not ready to talk, not at all, but he sits down and writes everything in a piece of paper, leaving it on Milan’s pillow.

Since he’s alone for the night and he hasn’t been the best flatmate, he decides to clean the entire apartment. He doesn’t feel like it, but he does it anyway. His music starts to bother him, like a mosquito following him, filling his ears with annoying noises so he turns it off, working in silence. 

Robbe moves every furniture to the middle of the living room, cleaning every inch as perfectly as he can, but someone knocks on the door, interrupting his activities. He thinks about ignoring, but he knows he’s making some noises dragging the furniture and maybe it’s just a neighbor that will politely ask him to do this during normal hours. 

As quickly as he opens the door, he closes it, but Sander stops him from doing it completely.

“Robbe, please, I just need to talk.” 

“We have nothing to talk about.” He pushes the door again and Sander pushes back, managing to get inside. 

“I’m sorry.” He starts and stops and Robbe doesn’t know what Sander is apologizing for. The list is so long he doesn’t care to know either. “I saw Britt and Noor talking and-” 

“I don’t care, Sander. Leave.” His eyes finally meet Robbe’s, he opens and closes his mouth, but decides to just walk closer first and Robbe steps back, away from him. 

“Robbe, I only meant to protect you. I’m too much fucking work and-” 

“I went to the police.” Sander stops trying to come closer, he puts his hands inside his pockets. 

“You...you did the right thing. I’m sorry about telling you to do it differently. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“We could have died that night, Sander. I thought I was dead. I never felt so scared in my life, but you looked so fucking chill the next morning that I thought it was ok. That we would somehow fix ourselves because we were fucking together. You told me that we had each other.” 

“And we did.” 

“No! We didn’t! I thought we were going to die, Sander! But the next morning I found some comfort in you, telling me that it was just stupid fucking bruises and that you loved me! I gave you so many fucking opportunities to get out of this mess, as far away as possible from me. I asked you a bunch of times if you were with Britt, I asked you! And you made the choice to lie to me over and over again! I only had you, I only wanted you next to me and you were living your life like nothing had happened! You were smiling and kissing and posing for pictures while I was ready to-” Robbe only realizes how loud he was talking when his last words echo around the nearly empty living room. 

Sander looks like he’s about to cry. Robbe lets himself really look at him for the first time in forever. He doesn’t look good. His clothes are all messy, his hair seems dirty and it’s pointing to every direction, he probably looks as tired as Robbe, but nothing worries Robbe now except how he almost said too much to a fucking stranger. Because that’s what Sander is now. Someone he doesn’t know. The little that Sander gave him was standing on a weak base that shattered while he was kissing Britt at that party only hours after almost being killed, not even twelve hours after telling Robbe that he loved him and that they had each other. Robbe is weak and dumb and he fell for it so fucking easily. 

It happens way too fast for Robbe’s exhausted brain to process, Sander comes closer and kisses him and it’s instantly like a wildfire ignited inside his heart, giving it some life back. Robbe can’t control how he feels when Sander kisses him. It’s not the same, but he can’t just not get carried away, kissing him back, tasting him slowly. His touch is careful, his fingertips barely touching Robbe’s neck and Robbe’s hands are on his chest, keeping the small distance between them.

As he hears the door being unlocked, Robbe stumbles away from Sander just in time. Zoe and Senne are at the door, looking at them. 

“What are you doing here?” Zoe asks and she doesn’t sound happy at all. Robbe walks away from the three, covering his face, bending down, so angry at himself for still having feelings, for still being in love. 

“I needed to talk to Robbe. I was just trying to keep him safe.” 

“You two have nothing to talk about. You should go.” Senne walks closer to Zoe and Sander, constantly looking at the boy, but he’s still looking at Robbe, still a little in shock, his lips are parted, the front of his shirt is wrinkled from Robbe’s grip. 

“Robbe, please, just let me stay and talk to you, I need to explain why-.” 

“He’s not in the right mind space to make de-”

“You should go. Now.” Robbe says as he gets up, walking up to them, and Zoe and Senne finally look at him. “We have nothing to talk about.” Sander doesn’t seem like he’s gonna move anywhere so Senne comes closer, helping him walk out, closing and locking the door once he’s out. 

Robbe doesn’t wanna talk, he can’t function right now so he walks back to his bedroom, leaving all the mess he made for Senne and Zoe to deal with. His phone starts vibrating in his pocket and he doesn’t check because he knows who’s sending the messages.

[cathleennguyen-blog]

Losing a Love

     This is the most pain I’ve ever endured so far in the 23 years that I have lived on this earth. I didn’t know something could hurt this bad. I thought I have been a pretty strong person for the most part, but the world has a funny way of humbling you. It really doesn’t help that I’m a sensitive person.

     When I say losing a love, in my case I mean that I can no longer love someone the way that I did for a little over 6 months. I can be friends with them and give them support in the future after I allow myself to heal, but I can’t romantically be involved with them. We have no bad blood towards each other whatsoever, but I can’t help but feel a little mad and frustrated about the way that things turned out. There are things I want to ask them, but one of the things this relationship has taught me is that I cannot always seek out answers. Seeking out answers may only cause more confusion or more pain... sometimes it’s truly not worth pursuing. Seeking out answers will not do me any good in this case, because no matter what they are no longer my person. The even sadder thing is that the primary reason why we cannot date anymore isn’t because of something either of us did; it’s because of what’s happening in their life. They’re so overloaded with working towards their future and they’re in the middle of figuring out how to even process something unfortunate that happened towards the end of last year. It’s not their fault that they need this time alone. I’m actually really glad that they were able to figure out that they cannot handle a relationship at the moment and they can see that they cannot control the fact that their personal life will inevitably hurt me. They can’t control the fact that they are sad all the time and that they cannot give romantic affection in any form... Knowing all of this doesn’t make it hurt any less for me though. 

     “At least you can still talk to them in the future and there’s no ill will”. Sure. That’s true, but is that what I need to hear right now? No its not. The primary reason as to why I am hurting so much right now is because I don’t have the status that I was so proud. I don’t have the status of being their girlfriend anymore, I have the status of being the friend. This is not to say that I think romantic relationships are more important than platonic relationships. However, I’ve only known how to love this person romantically... We didn’t start out as friends. So I’m in between these thoughts of knowing that I’m still fortunate enough to have them in my life as a friend and being upset that I can’t have them the way that I want to. Both thoughts are valid and true, but they sort of go against each other.

     This whole experience has been exhausting because I am the type to rip off the band-aid. I burned the six month letter I wrote to them, I burned the valentines day card that I never finished. I threw away a stuffed animal that I gave them, that once represented me being there for them even when I’m not there in person. I deleted all of the photos I had together with them, the only photos I have left are the ones I took of them on my professional camera. I deleted the conversation I had with them on iMessage and Instagram. I did that all in a matter of 5 days. It’s fucking exhausting and draining and reminding and painful and devastating. 

     I naturally expected, and at the same time didn’t expect, for them to show some sort of sign that a part of them didn’t want to end what we had. I wanted to see that they still had feelings for me and that this was difficult for them. The last day I saw them to return their hoodies/tshirts, they were just happy the whole time. Maybe their intention was to not ruin the mood during the (possibly) last time that we saw each other in person, to make this as painless as possible. But I feel like it really did more damage than it did good, because now I’m left with this feeling. This feeling that the past 6 months meant nothing to them, that everything I put into the relationship wasn’t important enough for to grieve over. But I always have to remind myself that they have been stoic for the past couple of months. They are stoic not because they have feelings, but because they have too much right now. To let themselves feel everything they’re feeling feels dangerous and crippling, so instead they choose to hold it in. Holding it in is their new reality, because once they don’t hold it in they just might lose all the strength they have left to keep going. It’s like a very thin string representing their strength is holding together two mountains: sanity and reality. Some days that string has probably broken and they broke down with it, isolated themselves, condemned themselves for not being able to holding it together. 

     I wanted to be able to have the status of being their romantic lover, initially because I wanted to take their pain away. This was a mistake, and I realized that instead of taking the pain away, I should instead sit in the pain with them. Give them the escape that they so often needed, help support them on the days that they cannot help themselves. I realized all of that too late, because during the time that I told them about that epiphany, they were already on the road of breaking up with me. I also want to be their girlfriend because I constantly wanted to be updated on how their life is... they replied to me every hour, while with everyone else they replied to them once every other day. Now I can’t have that, and I have to be comfortable with them treating me as a friend... something that I will have to get used to. This shit really hurts man.

     I already think about how much it would fuck me up if I saw them dating someone else while they’re still trying to grapple the things that they’re dealing with. It would truly make me feel like I was not good enough, strong enough, understanding enough.. when I really did try my best. It would hurt to know that my best is not enough for someone that I genuinely loved and cared for. How disappointing would that be. I try to not think about it but I really can’t help it. 

     I have to skip every sad song I hear or else I am literally guaranteed to start crying. The song doesn’t even have to be relationships (though often they are) for me to become upset, it could just be the beat or the sadness of the lyrics. I can’t be on social media because every now and then there are sad videos or even happy videos of couples, they both make me sad. The only songs that make me feel good are songs that talk about feeling powerful or unbothered, make me feel emotions that are the polar opposite of how I’m actually feeling inside.

     Speaking of polar opposites... this is how I know I have never felt this intensity of suffering in my life. This emotional suffering is affecting my physical health. I lost 5-10 pounds in the last month and I have no doubt that I’m going to lose more; I’m already a skinny girl so this is pretty concerning. My stomach feels empty and hungry but this sick feeling overpowers it. The sick feeling of losing something I treasured so much and for them to possibly not care about what we had. It makes me lose my appetite. Sometimes I want to eat, then I take a few bites and I can’t eat anymore. I feel like the most simple tasks are daunting, like going outside and speaking to people I’m comfortable with, like doing laundry, washing the dishes, taking out the trash. But it’s funny because I see myself being more kind to strangers and checking up on my own friends... and it’s all because I do not want anyone to feel pain. I feel so much pain that I want to protect everyone from it, and I want to do everything I can to be the opposite of pain. I want to give out so much love because it’s the only thing that’s keeping me grounded on this earth at the moment. It’s comforting to see that I still have love when I’m experiencing so much pain, that I’m choosing to not go down the dark path of casting everyone away because of how much all of this hurts. I can either become stronger from this or I can crumble from it... I already know which once I’m going to choose every single day. 

     This person will always have a piece of my heart, and I have no shame in saying that... though sometimes I feel petty and I wish that they didn’t. However, I don’t want to harbor any hate or ill feelings in my heart. This is for the best, and yes it still hurts but it could have been worse if we kept going. Part of me hopes that they would want to get together in the future when we are both settled down, but I cannot endlessly hope for that or expect that. I cannot ask them if they’d be down to date later, because they won’t know the answer to that. And frankly, neither do I. Life really goes on, but that doesn’t mean that what I had with them wasn’t beautiful, They deserved every ounce of love that I gave them, and I would gladly give them more but they need to do this by themselves. We never know what the future holds. 

     Remind yourself that this pain will not be this intense forever. Remind yourself that fortunately you still can have this person in your life as a friend. Remind yourself that you are still special to them. Remind yourself that you have people who love and support you. Remind yourself that everything you feel is okay, and to not judge yourself for feeling whatever you’re feeling. Remind yourself that whoever you end up dating and marrying will be worth the wait and pain. Remind yourself that you are enough... especially remind yourself of that please. You can get through this, you are strong enough and I know that you have yourself. 

[madeinheavxn]

The Thing That Connects Us (Part 18)

Word count: 1164

Warnings: smut, cussing, all that jazz

a/n: this is the second to last chapter. hope you all enjoy it before i cry and delete it

Story Masterlist

“There’s nothing to talk about John,” Parker commented, clearly nervous about why John was here.

“Yes, there is Parker. Why did you leave?” John asked. “Why did you leave, when did you leave, why did you do it suddenly, what got into your head? I have so many questions, Parker.”

“I just had to John.” Her hand grabbing the cigarette from her lips to tap off the end. “I just needed to.”

“You needed to leave me and the boys without telling any of us?”

“John just get to the question you want to ask, I know that you’re just dying to ask one question.”

“Was it because of that night?” John sighed.

“No,” She said bluntly.

“Oh,”

She dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her heel. “If you are done talking, I would like to finish something that we never got to finish.” Stepping closer to him.

“What are you talking-” He started, only to get cut off by her lips connecting to his, then pull back a second later. “Parker?”

“We can either finish this or you can leave so I don’t regret something.” She let go of him, ready to head back inside.

He stopped her by holding his arm out, “Your place, right now.” Without saying a word, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back through the bar and out the front door, unconcerned about her bass, knowing that Max would bring it home later.

They wordlessly walked to her shared apartment with Max and opened the door. She dropped her jacket, pack, and lighter on the table and stood, waiting for John to do something. “What do you want?”

“Right now? I want to understand.” He stepped towards her and held her arms. “I want to understand why.”

“You were the one that mentioned needing space first. I thought I’d do you the favor.” She responded, her voice becoming a whisper and her hands, immediately going to his waist as if there was a natural instinct.

“What about Queen?” He stepped closer, forcing their chests together.

“They can live without me. They have for five or six years now.” She nudged his leg in between hers.

“Then what about us?” His face slowly inched towards hers.

“We can figure that out.” She moved her head so that their lips touched. John didn’t react for a second but the moment he realized what was happening, he deepened the kiss. 

It wasn’t desperate or sexual, but rather romantic and slow. She moved her hands so they latched around his neck, able to pull him a bit closer whereas he moved his hands to her hips, where a strip of skin showed. He moved his thumb under the hem of the top, causing her to gasp from the coldness. He took advantage of her mouth opening to make the kiss deeper if that was even possible. “Do you know what happens from here?” He mumbled into the kiss.

“It depends on what you do.” She whispered back, pushing her hips closer to him. 

He was wearing loose sweats, due to the fact that he had left to find her in a hurry this morning, but she could feel his bulge through the fabric. With that information, she trailed one of her hands down his chest and played with the tent from outside the sweats. “Shit,” he grumbled at the feeling, bucking into her hand. 

She moved her hand to the waistband and toyed with the elastic of both his sweats and his boxers. “Sensitive.” She giggled, smiling. She took a step backward leading him farther into the apartment and into her room.

He forced her onto the bed and pinned her down, his hips on top of hers. “What first?” He asked.

“Dealers choice.” She responded after a moment, letting him have full control at that moment. He took the chance and reconnected their lips, his hands moving to bunch up her skirt and move her panties aside. When she felt his fingers she shuddered. “Fuck.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” John whispered, only tracing the outer edge of her core. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Just do it already.” She groaned as she felt his fingers move closer and closer to her center. “Stop fucking teasing.” When she felt the stretch of one finger, she hissed. “More,” her head bent back onto the pillow. “Jesus, John, more.” Moaning when she felt another enter. John attached his lips to her neck, sucking on the area next to her collarbone. His thumb grazed over her clit while his index and middle fingers were curling and moving inside her. “Do that again.” She breathed when she felt his thumb place pressure on her clit, sighing when she felt the same feeling.

Just as she felt her walls clench, John removed his fingers, “I’m not letting you do that without me.” She whined and looked at him. “Condom.” He said, as if asking where she kept them.

“Top drawer.” Answering, moving her hand down to the area again.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself.” He opened the box and pulled down his sweats and boxers just so his length would pop out, quickly putting one on, pumping himself a few times before lining up at her entrance and looking at her for permission to enter. She nodded and he slowly slid in, “Fuck, you’re tight.”

She whined at the sudden stretch, her hands fisting at the bedsheets. He settled, letting her get used to the girth and length before he started slowly moving. “Jesus, this is what I’ve been missing out on this whole time.” Her skirt was bunched up at her stomach and her crop top was gathered above her breast. “Classy.” She chuckled, her voice choppy from the movement of John inside her.

“Would you rather have me rip it off?” John grunted, his voice low from lust.

“Just keep going.” She answered, suddenly gasping from John pulling out only to slam back in. “Holy shit.” She moaned. He did again, “John, I’m close.” Her walls clenched again, this time around his length. “One more time.” She pleaded.

So he did it again, right when he slammed back into her, she yelled. He could feel the wet come around his erection, even with the condom on. Right after that, he shot into the condom. They both stayed where they were, taking deep breaths to regain whatever dignity they had left. John stood up, leaving her empty, and took off the condom, tying a knot and throwing it in the trash can before pulling his boxers and sweats back up. She sat up, pulling down her top and smoothing out her skirt. It was silent, neither sure what to do. 

“I think it’s best that you leave.” She whispered.

“Yeah.” He nodded and started for the door. “If this is the last time we see each other, I hope everything goes the way you have planned.” And he left before she could say goodbye.

[mirkysconcubinefiction]

You Know

Steve/Reader (****) Bucky (Gen)

Summary: What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

Notes: Cheating/Affair. Drunk Goodbyes. Broken Engagement. Angst. Nudity. Complete. Possible sequel.

Rating: Solid R. Mature Audience.

You Know

Engagement Ring

You didn't need or want a boyfriend... Or girlfriend for that matter.

One minute you were fine and dandy wiping down a table and the next your tray whizzed through the air and smacked a perv in the head.

And again.

And again.

And again.

If someone gropes your ass the logical reaction would be murder. At least that's what your mama had taught you.

Kill them like the roach they were.

Maybe that's when he saw you more than a random part time human he interacted with? He had swooped in, plucked the tray out of your hand, and broke it in half over the guys head.

Of course you politely said thank you before landing a solid kick into the perv. Not the face. If there weren't cameras you'd have stomped on his head.

Twice.

The way your mama had taught you.

That was then.

Before routine.

When he had to stalk you for a date in his goofy bashful self. When his best friend would get a kick of the 'old Steve' that was a mess around girls. When he had... no... there was no sense in getting nalstagic.

While you didn't want a boyfriend you never expected to get married. Steve's friends had been more excited than you, magazines and samples had taken over the small breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. You lit them on fire on the roof in one of the communal pits and lounged with takeout and wine. It's where you sat and made the decision to leave.

You couldn't stay.

God what would your mother say if she had been alive? She'd be disappointed in you.

The ring was rose gold, shaped like an octagon, and while pretty you had been afraid you'd lose it. Tempting as it was to flush it down the toilet you left it in the freezer atop a bag of sweet corn.

You packed your clothes - the ones you had purchased - into one luggage, another luggage was your shoes and intimates, and your carry on bag was large enough for your toiletries and kindle.

The car you purchased - with cash and registered under an alias - had enough space in the trunk for the luggage. The lovely security guard had helped you - bless him - and then you drove off. You refused to look back and you refused to shed another tear.

Well planned and as thought out as one could get considering their ex was an avenger with questionable access to the interwebs. You waited until the Avengers were on a mission.

A friend of a friend helped with your makeup and prosthetics to make you look like an elderly man, and you had enough cash on you to fund a bank. No paper trails, no cell phones beyond a simple Nokia that had no internet access, and once you made it outside state lines and to a safe house you'll disappear.

Again.

No more chances at romance.

All men were the same.

Even all american test tube super hero's weren't immune to cheating and lying.

✖

Home.

It used to be warm, smelled of dessert, savory meals, music played in the background, **** off tune voice singing along, there was a garden scattered throughout the condo, fruit always filled a basket, and more importantly **** was there to make him feel human.

Less lonely.

Alive.

Loved.

Cherished.

That was home. One he worked hard to obtain.

What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

The glossy original prints hung from the ceiling right over their bed like a weird still mobile. With that thought Steve remembered the birth control pills and hoped she would never catch on as to how insane he really was over her.

The doorbell rang.

Had it been anyone else, Steve wouldn't have opened the door but instinct fueled his hand and trust didn't make him flinch as a fist hit him in the face and he was down. Dropped on his ass in his own home with an incensed soldier grabbing him by his shirt and tossing him like a rag doll before shutting the door and locking it.

✖

The island held an empty fruit basket and a ring. A frozen mockery of a promise he remembered in great detail from months ago. Bucky had found it as he had been gracious enough to offer a bag of frozen peas only to find a bag of sweet corn and a ring.

Steve wanted to cry.

He wanted to get angry.

He wanted to call Tony for a favor but he could do nothing but sit on a stool his fiancee, future wife, future mother to his children, now 'ex', had picked out.

Only Bucky would probably kill him if he so much as sniffled.

The bag of sweet corn smacked him across the face none too gently and Steve winced. The other stool creaked as the crack and hiss of a Fanta soda being opened. Yet another check against him, **** made a point to stock the fridge with his and Bucky's favorites.

"Hope she was worth it."

"Buck..."

"Blond, green eyes, fake tits, didn't know desperate was your type."

Steve shut both eyes and slouched, "It was a mistake."

Bucky's brows lifted, soda can midway to his lips. "Fucking her for two months is now a mistake?"

"Look... I tried to stop it. Every time we met it just... Happened." It was stupid and in a way so true. He had tried stopping but some how they always end up fucking and every time he promised himself it was the last.

"Bullshit!" The can bent as it was slammed onto the counter. "You don't commit to marriage and then run off to fuck some floozie from legal!"

"I'm sorry!" Steve snapped, "I know I fucked up! It's on all the fucking walls!" Which was true. Even the fridge door had a blown picture of his face between slender legs and the freezer door a blown up shot of his cock being sucked. "I need to find her, apologise, and fix this." Bucky snorted, "I can fix this."

"**** has more respect for herself than you do of her."

"I love her." He did. Steve loved **** more than he'd love Peggy.

"You don't love a woman like **** and then fuck a bitch behind her back."

"It was a mistake." Steve grit out, irritated.

"Two months isn't a mistake. That's a fucking affair. Litteraly. You fucked like rabbits."

Steve stared, a frown tugging at his lips. "How do you know?"

Bucky stood and went for another soda only to stare at the woman splayed out for the world to see, "She is hot. Better looking than ****. It would've hurt more if you'd downgraded."

"**** is perfect!" Steve spat, throwing the bag of mushy corn where it burst as it hit a well.

"Look at her though." Bucky tapped on the breasts, "Nipples are spaced perfectly, more than a handfull, kudos to her surgeon."

"Kudos? When do you say kudos?"

"Must be on a low carb keto diet or those green smoothies, and even her belly button is worth cumming over."

Steve stared. Horrified. What was going on?

"And look at her skill!" A metal knuckle tapped at where the womana nose pressed against Steve's pubes. "Porn quality. The type of girl you want to teach you some shit."

"You know where she is." It wasn't a question. Bucky didn't talk like that. The man was a storm of swears, stares, and threats. Not... this. "Where is she?"

"Wish I knew so I could tell you to fuck off."

"She couldn't have gone far if she met with you, I might have time..."

"I haven't spoken to **** and i don't expect to hear from her again actually." Bucky ignored his friend's glare as he rummaged through the fridge for another soda and snagged a bag of cookies because only **** would hoard cookies in a refrigerator. "She left her phone in my apartment and instructions to watch her video."

"What?"

Bucky pulled out **** phone tucked on the inside of his jacket and tossed it to the other man. He returned to his seat, opened his soda, and munched on his cookies.

The phone wasn't password activated and a quick search proved most of the personal stuff like pictures and apps were deleted except for a single video.

Hey Tiny.

**** personal nickname for Bucky who had lost a bet but secretly was amused by it. The phone shook as **** had nearly dropped it with a swear. She looked as if she had been crying and she was chugging from a bottle of plum wine. Her favorite wine.

Just wanted to say i will miss you and i love you. Like, really, really love you. I'd give you my kidney sorta love.

She giggled and sipped at her bottle, eye's roaming the room. Tears slipped from her eyes and Steve felt his own burn. **** was a mess. She used a sleeve to wipe at her nose and her smile was shaky.

I redecorated, Steve will love it.

The camera flipped and **** showed off the wallpaper of porn. The condo looked trashed and luggage was open on the living room floor half packed and takeout piled on the coffee table.

I figure since he loved to fuck random pussy he'd like this theme. I call it *Whore of Narcissism*

The camera swivels and zooms into a familiar picture of the woman laid out and the hand holding the bottle points at the woman.

Not her. She not a whore Tiny. Ok!

The camera swivels to another portrait of Steve's face.

He's a cunt faced whore.

The camera switches and **** is giggling again.

Shhh. Look what I did. Put it it on the fridge door, that's where I keep the fish sticks.

Bucky snorts and Steve barely refrains from giving the man the finger.

See. Cunt whore faced.

**** giggles

Don't tell him but he can't eat pussy. He can't, he misses the clit. Like how do you miss this?

The phone tilts and Steve swears as she's wearing practically nothing. It wasn't her sexy underwear but the shear laced thong left little to be hidden.

It's right there, see it pokes out a bit too.

**** bumps her pussy with the bottom of edge of the wine bottle.

How can he miss it?

"It gets better." Bucky happily munches on a cookie.

"Fuck you."

Look. Just look.

There's a thunk as the bottle was set down and **** shoves aside her underwear and it was a crooked close up of her manicured pussy.

How is this not buffet worthy? My pussy tastes like sin yet he treats it like a McD's drive through. My pussy is not a Big Mac! It's MSG!

The phone jerks up back to her face and she's angry.

Chinese buffet MSG quality. My pussy is it's own zodiac sign ok!

Bucky's shoulders are shaking and Steve is mortified.

Maybe he likes her sauce though?

The camera points to his head between the girls legs.

He never spends forever with me but with her... I got so many pictures of her and he is just there. I have a buffet he can eat from and he chooses this...

Her hand smacks on a breast.

She's hot Bucky. Look at her. She's fucking perfect and her tits are fucking perfect. You see them? Nipples spaced perfectly, bigger than his hands, kuddos to whoever worked on her, she's a fucking art piece, I wanna know her surgeon, I want tits like hers.

The camera shifts and **** holds the camera up at an angle downward as she unhooks her bra with one hand and slips one arm out while it dangles from the other and she's touching herself.

See one's smaller.

"Did you..." Steve couldn't get it out as he watched his fiance complain about her breasts on camera to his best friend. Brother.

"Fuck her?" Bucky crushes his empty soda can, "I'm not you. If I had that in my bed I wouldn't get complaints about my mouth."

... at least she's hot you know. If he's going to fuck another bitch at least she's beautiful. I'd die if he downgraded you know. He fucked her in the office you know. Her office. She's beautiful and educated and I'm a mess.

The wine bottle was back in her hands and she took a long swallow uncaring that she was half naked.

I'm sorry Tiny. Bucky. I'm... This... I should delete this one but my battery is gonna die so fuck it. I'm leaving. When you see Steve punch him. I can't be there when he gets back. I'll kill him.

She sipped her wine and her brows furrow.

She has to be on some low carb keto diet... I don't think I can drink those green smoothies but I would have. I could look like a porn star! I can look plastic too!

Her eyes go wide before she blinks and frowns.

I can get wigs and wear those waist thingy's and change names... We could have role played. I would have called him daddy or - or - dirty stuff. I could have been his whore you know. I'm not a basic bitch Tiny. If she were my friend she'd teach me to not choke!

**** shakes her head and takes another swig.

I want to hate her but she... Bucky she was crying. He lied to her, for two months he lied to her, and she brought me ice cream Bucky. I couldn't hit her. She got me chocolate.

Her eyes narrowed and the sadness was swept away.

I want to hurt him. Rip his heart out through his ass and shove it down his throat! I planned it too, killing him. Got explosives... was gonna put a trigger thing on it and boom. Take out the whole floor.

**** makes a boom noise before flopping on the couch atop folded clothes, her wine bottle gone from her hands.

Neighbors got a kid downstairs and... Kids... No kids.

She rubs her face, tears leaving tracks and her breadth hitches and she's doing her best to not break down.

I was right. I told you there's no such thing as happily ever after. I told you they're all the same. I'm...

Her breath hitches and she's staring into the lens. Broken.

I'm not perfect Bucky, I'm not her but I loved him. I believed him. You said... Said he was good and I be-believed you cuz I trusted you and I want... Wanted... I deserve to be loved. I am good enough... I'm good... Right? Bucky... Why... Why am I not good enough? what did I do wrong? I... I... I'm sorry.

The phone tumbles and the screen goes dark but Steve can't hold back his own tears as he hears her sob before it cuts off completely.

What had he done?

How did he fix this?

Can he fix this?

End... ish.

[illumose]

i’m no sweet dream  [ kim taehyung ]

× genre : fratboy!taehyung au ; angst ; badass! reader.

× pairing : kim taehyung x female reader | words : 1,3k

× sum up : in which the reader decides to make Taehyung pay for his bad actions.

× author’s note : this scenario is inspired by Halsey’s new song ‘Nightmare’.

The cold wind hit your face as you wandered aimlessly in the street. From time to time, the window of a shop would catch your attention, but you wouldn’t stop walking. There was something soothing about walking, you didn’t mind the slight tiredness.

Two months afo, your life was perfect. You were dating what you had thought to be the love of your life, and you had a reputation untouched by sins, rumors and gossips. It was insane to see how things changed so quickly. Your life had been turned upside down, because of a single man. He dragged you down, making people believe that you were just a slut in seek of attention.

People talked shit about you, without knowing anything about what you went through. That’s what happen when you’re too nice, they eat you alive. Now, you wouldn’t make the same mistake. Kindness is weakness, it became your new mantra.

Kim Taehyung could have been the love of your life if he was not a complete douchebag. After all, your friend warned you about his past of bad boy. He manipulated you, he used your kindness at his own advantage. You were blinded by love, when all he cared about was your body. You’ve trusted lies and men, but this was over. This was the last time you would allow people to hurt you, to break your heart.

You had broken down, but you had put yourself back together. The first week, you were a mess. You cried yourself to sleep, you did not eat, you did not go out. You had blamed yourself. The week after, a friend came over, informing you of the rumours, the gossips. It was when you realized that he had wrecked you, that it was all a game for him. You had decided to take your revenge for the damages he caused to your heart.

You would not allow him to have power over you, to destroy your life. Your reputation had been torn apart because of Taehyung, but if you had to drown, then he was going to drown too. After all, he did not show any mercy for you when he spread the rumour that you were a whore addicted to sex without any morals.

He was the one who started this, and you would end it. Tomorrow. You were tired and angry.

The next day, you entered the university, walking confidently. The students’ curious gaze made you smile. You knew that he would come to you first, he had no other choice.

"Y/n." You heard his voice, calling you out from the other side of the hallway. He was probably wearing his leather jacket, the one you used to steal because it looked good on you.

You stopped only when the two of you were in an empty classroom. "What?"

"They suspect me and Connor of having cheated on the admission test." He said, leaning against the door frame. What he did not know was that you, accidentally or not, spilled out that his little secret.

"And? It isn’t my problem." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. It amused you, he seemed cocky. It would not last, though. You were going to shatter his life, to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Taehyung stared at you, in disbelief. He had never witnessed this type of behavior coming from you. He had expected you to beg him to take you back. He had thought you would be worried, but apparently, you weren’t. "They will take my scholarship away. We’ll be expelled."

"Will you? And, what do you tell me this? Your little toys cannot help you, can’t they?" You answered, walking closer to him. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk displaying on his lips. He won’t smirk for long.

"They’ll ask you questions, to see if we’re lying or not. Don’t tell them anything." He demanded, believing that you were still a compliant little toy. He had no hold on you anymore. People always believed that you would stay the kind and compliant woman who put her own self second for others. They pushed you, again and again, until you could not take it anymore. He belittled you, having no consideration for your feelings.

"Fun fact, I don’t owe you a goddamn thing, Taehyung. You’re a douchebag, and this is what you deserve. Perhaps the past girls you wrecked hadn’t had the guts to make you pay, but I ain’t them."

Your laugh resonated in the whole classroom. You’ve learnt to grow from the heartbreak, the shame and the judgement. It changed you in so many ways, and perhaps, without Taehyung, you would not have found the strength to be tough. In some way, you were thankful for what he caused.

"You made a mistake when you thought that I would come back, crawling and begging. I trusted you, and you betrayed my trust, but it’s okay." You added, defying his gaze. "You tore my reputation apart. You told them I was a slut, that there wasn’t someone more disgusting than me. You and your group of jerks are rotten to the core. I’ve got a lot of things to say about you, because don’t forget that we dated for one fucking year. It’s a lot of time." Your tone was threatening, it was so pleasing to hold the power.

"Is it a threat, sweetheart?" He chuckled, approaching you.

"Someone like me can be a real nightmare. My old self would still be crying her eyes out over a man without any values. You’ve done things that are far worse than cheating. The university won’t be the only one going after you, Taehyung."

Taehyung eyes changed, he was no longer amused.

"You can act cocky all you want, you can threaten me, but the truth will be heard. I ain’t giving you the pleasure of enjoying your life when you did horrible things. You’re gonna pay for your actions. I’m no sweet dream, I’m your worst nightmare.” And with that, you stepped out of the room, walking past him. He stood there, frozen and baffled.

Your eyes slid over to take one last look at Taehyung, and you left. Once back home, you took everything that Taehyung had left in your apartment to the trash, definitely deleting him from your life. You were relieved, and in peace with yourself.

You’ve tolerated Taehyung horrendous behavior with others for a whole year, letting him do whatever he wanted with your heart. Unfaithful and distrustful, he ruined the love you two had. His friends were just like him, a group of douchebag without any consideration for woman and other people. They gave looks of haughty disdain to those who weren’t as wealthy as they were.

You had hoped that Taehyung could change, what’s greater than helping the love of your life change into a better person ? You were so wrong, and regretted getting involved with him. It was a nasty shock when you had found out that he took pictures of you naked on the bed, and that he allowed his friends to see them. It was a nasty shock when you had found out that a girl he used to date committed suicide because he ruined her life.

Nonetheless, he was finally paying for his actions. You had pressed charges against him for the nudes he had stolen and you had revealed to the police what he did to the poor girl. The cheating scandal was only the beginning of his fall.