#looking back on everything they’ve done to change the world ???

[my-cabbages-gorl]

“Before you helped him save the world, he helped save you, my dear prince” - Iroh to Prince Zuko, Legacy of the Fire Nation

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (1): Yandere Isekai 

When you woke after an especially tiresome day the last thing you’d expect was to reawake in a room that looked nothing like your own

The house, the neighborhood, your job everything was not your own

Instead, it’s resembling a webtoon you remember seeing the marketing, edits, and spoilers for

And if it was all adding up right you’d find the horrifying truth behind the controversial protagonist of the story would be incredibly true

“Look I’m sorry I yelled…I love you…I’m really hungry. Can I eat today?”

The beautiful and practically perfect protagonist was the one who trapped their love interest inside their–now your basement

Chained to the floor on a chair in the dark with unfinished surroundings was the poor victim of the yandere protagonist

Haruko, is an average guy who previously caught the protagonist’s attention by standing up to one an influential pair of elitists in defense of their crush but that’s hearsay

In the former protagonist's atmosphere the children of the rich were victims to their family’s whims often protecting their wealth rather than their children

Which caused Haruko to defend his friend from their overbearing parents

That is when the protagonist suddenly fell deeply in love with the average fellow 

Obsessively stalking him and eliminating their rivals by any means necessary

finally snatching their love and running to a small little home where they planned to have their dreamy life 

Of course, after breaking his spirit and having Haruko develop some kind of stockholm syndrome

To find that you’ve been isekai’d is jarring 

But being a protagonist that had the internet raving for years about how unhealthy they were is awful

But it was nothing when you were standing at the top of the stairs and watching the malnourished man call out to you

“Yeah….sure.”

Naturally you calm down, enough to make the poor guy something to eat and drink

Excusing yourself to have a breakdown in the bathroom before coming up with a plan to fix it all

“Y-you’re letting me go?”

“Yes, I won’t stop if you want to go to the police…but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

You felt so selfish 

But you weren’t the one who imprisoned him

Now that you were though you were going to turn a new leaf

After feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a hefty sum from the protagonists savings 

You go to their place of work where they’re in line for a promotion

“I quit.”

“E-excuse me (L/n)?! But your about to become the vice president of the company!?”

“I know. Sorry?”

You almost feel bad turning down the CEO who visits to try and reason with you

In your opinion, the protagonist didn’t deserve any of their success

They technically didn’t need it because they were stacked

Same could be said for the detective thats been constantly asking the protagonist questions

“You are actually agreeing to talk with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hit your head?!”

With the knowledge from spoilers and ads you’d seen, you knew that the worst part of this story is that the protagonist is doing just fine while Haruka continues to struggle with his captivity and manufactured feelings

You want to do this right, whether you were meant to live in this world from now on or would one day return to your own

But in the meantime you’d do what you felt was right 

Turning their life—now your life around to somehow try to condone for all the crimes they’ve done

Unfortunately, though things don’t seem to want to go your way

“Please Please take me back!” 

“What?”

“You heard me! You were right you’re the only one who loves me! I love you! Please! Please! Take me back in your basement!”

“Okay?”

It seems that once you released the poor guy he returned to society

Expecting to be welcomed by his friends and family upon being missing for years

Who instead had moved on or had benefitted from him being declared dead

He tried to go back to working but he couldn’t get you out of his head

Not the one that ranted about adoring him and the one that would go days without feeding him

But the one that cried when you saw his skin bruising in his chains

The one that fed him a hot meal 

The one that helped him relearn to use his weakened legs

The one that keeps apologizing for every little thing you do

That’s the you, he likes

And he’d much prefer he turn back to being a victim trapped in your basement if it meant having you back in his life

“I don’t mind if you stay here if you need but I’m not keeping you trapped here. I won’t do it anymore.”

He cries and bangs his hands on the floor when you officially tell him

But he’ll take you up on your offer to move in with you

“Good morning (Y/n)! Since you quit your job you’re getting up so much later now. You’ve got to be careful waking too late.”

“Uhm how do you know I quit my job?”

“Unless you're locking me in the basement you don’t need to know!~”

He’s like a weird roommate who occasionally asks that you restrain him in some way

Purposefully rummaging in your storage to find ropes that you haven’t thrown away yet or buying them himself and leaving them out

“Ooops~! I did leave a chain out while cleaning! I’m so bad, being so careless even though you’ve been so against it. I should be punished! I know, you should tie me up! Right? Right? Right?”

He’s going insane everytime you refuse his demands to be locked away

You’re even sweeter now that he’s not locked away and that’s not helping

He’ll ultimately decide he should try it

“Hey (Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You still feel guilty about what you did to me right?”

“...Yes.”

“Then how about you do something for me? To make up for it?”

Even if you know you’ve done nothing wrong 

The guilt doesn’t stop you

Letting him lock you in the basement as he repeats some of the same punishments he remembers

Or rather tries to

“I just can’t seem to stand being away from you for a day, let alone not feed you then. I have no idea how you did it.”

You couldn’t be sure either

Which is why you don’t protest as his actions tend to get a bit more…wild

“Like you suggested I did try going for that new job again.”

“Uh that’s good.”

“I know since you’ve left they seem to be desperately searching for extra hands. I’d feel bad for them if you weren’t with me!”

“Right…”

“But being away from you all day is killing me! Maybe I should look for a more remote position.”

He treats you better than the former protagonist did 

Quickly moving you up to your old room and just chaining you there

But he wants more from you 

More Kisses

More Cuddles 

More Romance 

More Touching

More Quality time

He takes up so much of it, that the same problems that happened in the webtoon were happening again

Except this time it was related to you

“I’m Revmere the CEO of the Revere Co. I’m wondering is (Y/n) home? I’ve been trying to reach them by phone but it hasn’t been going through.”

“And I’m Detective Cape. Thomas Cape, I also need to speak with (Y/n) and you too if that’s alright Haruko.”

Part 2: Coming Soon

[jeneveuxrein]

safety net [2/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 25.8K

part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)

(yeah, lol)

Self-loathing has always been something you’ve done. It was likely the result of never being good enough for your parents even when you delivered on every single expectation they’ve had for you. 

At this current point in your life, you hate yourself for the situation you blindly agreed to. 

It’s been about a month since Rosie disturbed your peace in the library, asking if you’d teach her how to have sex, which translates into having sex with her. 

You haven’t had sex yet, but you’ve done everything else a lot. Rosie has been eager to finally do it, but there’s something that always stops you. She gets frustrated, but you eat her out, quickly bringing her to an orgasm, and all is forgotten until next time. You sense her getting impatient, but you’re scared that once you finally do, that’ll be it. 

And it’s been nice spending all this time with her. You see her pretty much every day. The only times you don’t is if she has to finish a project or if she has a date with Soohyun. When it’s the latter, you get all broody, but your mood immediately changes when she messages you as soon as she’s home. 

Rosie doesn’t tell you much about the dates unless you ask. She has shared that they’ve exchanged a couple kisses here and there, but she often compares Soohyun to you—too much teeth, too aggressive, too… everything she’s not used to. It goes straight to your ego because how could it not. 

The physical aspect of your relationship aside, you two are actually getting along. You still bicker, but it doesn’t end with her yelling anymore. 

Rosie’s a catch, which is understandable based on the amount of people that want to be with her. She’s funny. She’s kind. She’s driven. She’s sometimes in her own world, that you often get lost with her when she rambles on about her day. She’s someone you could see yourself with if it was under different circumstances. 

You hear your name being called, breaking you out of your thoughts as you stare at your computer screen. You see Rosie approaching you with Jisoo, waving as the other woman looks bored already. 

“Hey Rosie,” You greet affectionately. “Jisoo.” 

Jisoo gives you a wave, smiling, as Rosie walks behind your chair. 

“Whatcha working on?” Rosie peeks over your shoulder. 

It’s an expense report that your father sent you to look over, but you’ve been swamped with exams coming up. 

“Just work stuff,” You answer, stretching your arms and letting out a yawn. “Are you done with your project?” 

“Yeah, Jisoo and I were going to grab dinner but I wanted to find you before we left,” Rosie ruffles your hair. “I’ll come by after though?” 

Jisoo makes a gagging sound, earning a glare from the woman behind you. 

“Sure, I’ll be home around 8. I have a game today,” You inform her, checking the time. 

“Oh what? You should’ve told me, I would’ve came,” Rosie sounds disappointed. 

“It’s alright, I probably won’t play that much anyways,” You send her an easy smile. “I’ll see you later.” 

Rosie nods, blowing you a kiss that has you blushing while Jisoo makes the sound again. She grunts when Rosie hits her arm, a quick bye before getting dragged away. 

You watch their figures get smaller, suddenly missing Rosie that you can’t focus anymore on work. You sigh, shaking your head, deciding that you’ll just shoot around before your game. 

--

“Why,” Rosie tears her lips away from yours, tilting her head back that you attack her neck. “Won’t you have sex with me?” She pants when you suck on her skin, careful to not leave a mark because he might see it. 

“Are you in a rush?” You murmur, hand sneaking underneath her blouse to palm her breast. 

“Well—no,” She gasps when you gently pinch her nipple. “I just think I’m ready. We’ve done a lot and I—fuck.”

“You what?” You continue your ministrations on her chest, massaging each breast with equal attention. 

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d feel inside me,” You stop and she squirms underneath you. 

If you weren’t hard enough before, you’re about ready to bust through your briefs. 

You pull back, staring at her. Your mind’s going a mile a minute because you weren’t expecting to actually follow through tonight. 

“I want this with you,” Rosie whispers, sitting up slightly to kiss you on the lips. “If anything hurts, I’ll tell you.” 

Fuck fuck okay. It’s go time and you couldn’t talk yourself out of this. 

“Okay,” You nod, kissing her forehead. “Are you sure?” You have to ask one more time. 

“Yes,” Rosie tugs her blouse over her head, leaving her completely nude. “You’re overthinking this.” 

You are, but for reasons she doesn’t know. You don’t even know yourself. You’re acting as if it’s your first time. 

“Kiss me,” And you do, resting your weight on top of her. 

It’s slow and sensual, her lips soft on your as you trail your hand between her legs. You swipe a finger in between her folds to check and she’s wet. She moans at the contact, rolling her hips for more contact. You repeat the movement just to be sure. You’ve been told that you’re above average in the size department, and you don’t want her to be in any pain. 

Rosie gets impatient, tugging your waistband down to free your cock. You groan when her hand wraps around you, stroking you gently as you kick the material off. 

When you deem her wet enough, you meet her hand with yours, guiding your cock in between her lips. Your body screams at you to enter her, but instead with your control quickly slipping, you run your length in between, moaning at the first contact of her pussy. 

“Stop teasing,” Rosie pants, body trembling beneath you as you rock your hips. 

“I’m sorry,” You’re really not. You don’t know what comes over you, but you lean back, spreading her legs wider as you grip your cock, spreading the precum over. “I need to get a condom.” You reach over to your nightstand, but she stops you. 

“Have you had sex with anyone since?”

“No,” You’ve been too wrapped up in her that any woman that you’ve seen at a party or hooked up with previously hasn’t been on your mind. 

“Then no condom, I’m on the pill,” Rosie says softly. 

You stare at her for a moment, heart pounding against your chest at what she’s offering. Rationale goes out the window because even though you’ve had a condom rule for the past year, you’d love to feel her without one. 

“Trust me?” Rosie bites her lip, nodding, eyes locked at your cock as you rest the head at her entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much.” 

You take a breath, more for your sake, as your cock slowly enters her. Her hands shoot to your hip, stopping your movement instantly. 

You’ve barely made any headway, but from what you’re feeling so far is too much for you to handle. She’s warm, wet, and tight as her body tenses at the intrusion. You keep reminding yourself to go slow because this is still her first time and going at the pace your body is telling you to would not be fair to her. 

“Holy shit,” Rosie gasps as her hands move to grip your arms. “Keep going,” She breathes slowly, catching her breath as you press your hips slightly forward. 

Her heat envelops you, applying a delicious pressure the deeper you go. You glance down at where your bodies are joined and you’re barely halfway there. 

What you want to do is snap your hips forward, completely, but you’re aware of Rosie’s breathing and expressions for any signs of discomfort. 

Though that awareness is quickly getting lost. 

“Are you all the way?” Rosie asks weakly, eyes scrunched closed. 

“Uh, almost?” You’re able to say as you gently rock back and forth to get your cock inside more. “How are you feeling?” 

“It’s—fuck—not bad, but there’s just a lot of pressure,” Rosie breathes out. 

Tell me about it. 

You distract her by kissing her all over, keeping your rhythm as her body relaxes to take more of you in. Her nails scratch at your arms, but you’d take a little bit of pain any day. 

You don’t realize it, but in no time, you’re fully sheathed by her heat, letting out a whimper when you see your cock disappear inside her. 

“You doing okay?” You grunt, burying your face into her neck to keep yourself from cumming right then and there. 

“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, experimenting by squeezing her inner walls around you. 

“You’re so hot,” You murmur, trailing kisses along her neck. “Your pussy feels so good around me, you’re taking me so well.” Her body responds to your words—interesting—as she spreads her legs wider to take you in. “You like hearing how you make me feel, huh?” Rosie can only nod, tipping her head back.

You lean back, slowly pulling your hips back, and watch, entranced, as your cock slides out. It’s covered in her slick, and you’ve never seen anything hotter. You let out a sigh as you feel her contract around the tip. She moans and something snaps inside you that you suddenly thrust back in. 

Rosie screams at the pressure, letting out a filthy moan that has you groaning. Your body moves on its own accord, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her pussy that has you seeing stars. 

“Fuck, baby,” She moans, pants, as she starts to babble nonsense as her walls accommodate to your girth. “You feel so good.”

You try not to pay attention to the pet name, but it only spurs you on more.

Her walls rhythmically squeeze every time you bottom out. It doesn’t stop you. It makes you chase the feeling, an addiction that you wouldn’t mind having. 

You lose yourself in her body, watching her bite her lip and lose her breath as she grabs onto the sheets. Hearing your name fall from her lips wakes something up in you.The sounds she makes drive you to thrust into her, and when you hit a certain spot inside, she demands you don’t stop. You don’t break rhythm as she squirms. You grab her hips, letting out groans of your own as you feel your orgasm coming. 

“Chaeng,” Your hips falter as her pussy contracts after a particularly hard thrust, “I’m gonna cum.” 

“Inside,” Rosie locks eyes with you, “Cum inside me.” 

Your resolve snaps as you thrust wildly into her, chasing your orgasm as you feel the start of hers, walls squeezing your cocks so tightly you feel lightheaded. You feel her nails digging into your skin, holding onto like her life depends on it.

“Yes, yes,” Rosie chants like a song as her head snaps back, showing her neck as her body is wracked with pleasure.

Cum shoots from your cock inside her, painting her inner walls white, groaning as you rut into her. Your brain shuts off as you fall on top of her. She doesn’t seem to mind as she wraps her arms around you, placing soft kisses all over your face. You hear a contented sigh from her as you gasp for air. 

When you come to your senses, you automatically kiss Rosie on the lips—a simple, sweet one—as you catch her breath against your lips. She tries to deepen it, but you pull away, smiling softly as you fully take her in. Your heart has never felt so loud. 

“Hi,” You say quietly. 

“Hey yourself,” Rosie returns your smile. 

“You okay?” You glance down where you’re still connecting, hoping—praying—you weren’t too rough. 

“A little sore, but never better.” 

“ I wasn’t too rough right?”

“Nope,” Rosie shakes her head. 

You gently pull out, watching her face wince, but she lets out a quiet moan when your softened cock brushes against her clit. 

“Sorry!” You rush out, falling next to her as she chuckles. 

“Stop,” Rosie lightly slaps your arm, bringing it to rest on her stomach. 

“Sorry,” You mumble again. 

“I feel it leaking,” Rosie states simply, sitting up to look in between her legs. You join her and see a dribble of your cum peak through her folds. “That’s kind of hot.”

“Chaeng,” You groan, the image of what’s between her legs etched in your mind forever. 

“It is,” Rosie nudges your shoulder, laughing. “I’m exhausted. I hope I’m not too sore tomorrow, I have to carry a bunch of things to the studio.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Like actually?” Rosie sinks back into the pillow, turning to face you. 

You nod. 

“You don’t even have classes tomorrow?” 

“I know, but I’ll take you to school with all your stuff,” You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t help her, knowing that she’ll likely be sore because of you. That wouldn’t sit well with you. 

Rosie kisses you on the cheek, smiling before snuggling into you. It all feels very relationship-y, spiking your anxiety because you’re more attached to her than you ever intended. 

And that scares you the most. 

--

“Thanks Eunbi,” You send a grateful smile to the girl sitting across from you as you’re finishing up the group project that completely slipped your mind. 

“It’s fine oppa,” Eunbi laughs. “It’s a low-stakes project anyways.”

“Still,” You roll your eyes, annoyed with yourself more than anything. “I would’ve literally forgotten about it if you didn’t say anything.” 

You and Eunbi were assigned as partners for a project that wasn’t worth much towards your grade, but it was supposed to help with the semester project that was worth your entire grade. Eunbi was someone you interacted with frequently, sharing the same classes, but spending the past couple days with her has kept your mind off a certain someone (who you’ve been actively avoiding for the past few days)z

The day after you and Rosie had sex, you did drop her off at school, carrying all her things to the studio so she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Naturally, people saw you together, creating a small rumor about you dating. It freaked you out because everyone is aware of her and Soohyun that you needed to distance yourself from her. 

Of course, without her realizing what you’re doing. But Rosie was perceptive, so sooner or later, she’ll confront you. 

“Are you doing anything right now?” Eunbi asks after she finished packing her belongings. 

“Uh no?” 

“Did you want to get dinner?” 

“Sure why not,” You shrug because you’re not doing anything wrong, but why did you suddenly feel a weight on your shoulders? 

Eunbi smiles, and she’s pretty. She knows it too, but she doesn’t let that get to her head. She is someone you haven’t gone out with or slept with, so it couldn’t hurt to spend a little bit more time with her outside of school work. 

Right?

Wrong. 

The universe has a funny way of making things happen. 

As you’re exiting the library, Rosie’s outside. You try to avoid her, but she looks up at the right moment, eyes narrowing, and stomps her way over to you. 

“Seriously?” Is all she says, glancing behind you to see who you’re with. 

“What?” Your wall’s up, especially with people passing by. You pray to a higher being that she doesn’t make a scene. 

“You know what,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms. 

“Uh, oppa,” Eunbi says before you could respond to the woman seething in front of you. “We can have dinner another time.” 

You turn your head, and Eunbi has an understanding smile on her face, nodding encouragingly while you feel the metaphorical daggers stabbing the side of your face. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you around okay?” Eunbi’s eyes crinkle, nodding politely at Rosie before walking away. 

Once Eunbi’s a good few meters away, Rosie tugs on your arm, “Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve been avoiding me.” 

Okay so maybe you haven’t been handling this the best. You’ve intentionally missed her phone calls and blatantly ignored her messages. You don’t know if it’s because of how you feel towards her, which you’re still trying to figure out, or if it’s because you thought that it was a one-time thing. 

“Can we not do this here?” You offer weakly, and her jaw noticeably clenches. 

“Fine,” Rosie relents, shaking her head, cursing you under her breath before walking towards the parking lot.

--

You’re sitting on the couch, watching Rosie pace back and forth across your living room. She didn’t say much to you on the car ride over except that she was playing music. She grunted a thanks when you opened the door for her, opting to change into more comfortable clothes, leaving her some on your bed in case she wanted to change. 

Other than that, she hasn’t said anything else. 

“Did you want me to cook something?”

No response, the sound of Rosie’s feet continues to shuffle on the hardwood. 

“You know,” Rosie stops in front of the window, back towards you as she looks out at the night city skyline, “I spent the last three days wracking my brain over why you weren’t talking to me.” 

“I can–” Rosie shakes her head, prompting you to not say anything more. 

“I thought everything between us was going well. Yeah we still bicker, but we aren’t arguing like we used to. We had sex. I thought it was great aside from the expected soreness, but then you just ghost me,” Thankfully she doesn’t see you wince. “I was like there’s no way he’s going to treat me like I’m one of his usual fucks, right? He has to have more respect for me.” Rosie turns around, eyes narrowed as she walks towards you. 

“Rosie–”

“I thought about it more and I even talked about it with Lisa and Jennie because I needed someone, anyone really, to make sure I wasn’t going crazy,” Rosie stands in between your legs, crossing her arms. “Lisa being Lisa said that I was overthinking it too much, but do you want to know what Jennie said?” 

“What?” You gulp, gaze locked on hers. 

“Since you and Jennie had a fling, or whatever,” You detect something off in her tone when she says that, but if you point it out, she’ll yell at you. “She said that maybe you had feelings for me.”

Fucking Jennie. 

“I called it absurd because it’s you and me. We set the rules, which for what it’s worth, we broke a couple of them, but that’s the one we absolutely couldn’t break,” Rosie’s eyes narrow, searching your face for truth. You hoped you weren’t giving anything away, but you weren’t too sure. 

Sentences weren’t forming under her intense gaze, so you could only nod. 

“I have to ask, do you have feelings for me?” Rosie asks point blank. 

Yes is the short answer. 

The long answer is much more complicated for you to put into words because you’re admitting to yourself that you do, and that’s what’s fucking you up more. 

“No.”

“No? Then why were you avoiding me? I called. I texted. I had half the mind of just coming over here to curse you out, but Jennie stopped me,” Her shoulders drop, defeated, as the hurt breaks through her façade. 

“I figured you were done with me,” You say softly. 

“Why would you think that?” Rosie kneels in between your legs, resting her hands on your thighs. Your brain short circuits because it’s a very familiar position that your body has become very conditioned to. 

“We had sex, isn’t that what you wanted? To just get it over with?” 

“Well yeah,” Rosie folds her arms, cradling her face in her hands as she stares at you. “But I still want to do more things with you. Soohyun and I have gone on a few dates, but we aren’t anything official.” 

“When he asks you out, that’s when this,” You gesture between your bodies, “Will be over?” 

Rosie nods, “It would make the most sense right? I would be cheating on him if we continued doing things and I called him my boyfriend.”

It stings to hear that more than you thought it would, but you swallow that, pushing it deep down. 

“That’s true. You’ll tell me when that happens?” You ask. You need to prepare yourself for a heartbreak you weren’t expecting. 

“You’ll be the first to know when he asks me out,” Rosie moves, straddling your lap. “But for now, I want to do things with you,” She grounds her hips down, showing you exactly what she wants to do. 

“Yeah?” Your cock starts to awaken, hardening as your hands grip her thighs. “Like what?” 

“Ride you,” Rosie brings her lips to yours, murmuring, “I’m not sore anymore.” 

You groan, mind clouded with her body bouncing on your cock—a very imminent reality as she pulls her top over her head, leaving her completely nude from the waist up.

“Go ahead, Chaeng,” You whisper against her lips, letting her take control of the night. 

And you know you’ll be absolutely fucked out by the end of it. 

--

--

Your hand contacts the flesh of her thigh, a loud smack rings through your room. 

“Fuck baby,” Rosie moans loudly, rolling her hips back, trying to get your cock where she needs you most. 

“Do you deserve it?” You bend forward, kissing her neck sweetly. 

“Yes,” She pants, nodding obediently, squirming in your grip as she continues her movement, brushing your cock in between her lower lips. 

Another loud smack echoes as Rosie nearly screams when you aim your cock at her opening, entering her in one swift thrust.

“Good girl,” You whisper, leaning back before watching your cock pull out just enough where your tip stays within her warmth. 

“Please,” Rosie turns her head around, biting her lip, nodding that she’s more than okay. You feel her walls contract on your tip, a groan falling from your lips before you thrust back in. 

You start off slow, wanting to savor this because whether Rosie knows it or not, this is the last time for this to happen. 

Another month has gone by and Soohyun still hasn’t asked her out. Everyone knows they’re an item, but it hasn’t happened—yet. 

Though everyone—besides her friends—doesn’t know that you fuck her every time after their dates. 

The universe still never works in your favor, so you just happened to be in line to get coffee behind Soohyun and one of his friends before you had class. They spoke loud enough for you to hear his friend ask Soohyun when he was going to ask Rosie to be his girlfriend officially. Curiosity got the best of you, and when Soohyun said tomorrow after dinner, you knew you had to see her tonight. 

It wasn’t out of the routine for you to see Rosie after school, but it was out of the routine for you to ask. You hardly initiated it because you didn’t want to assume, but the few times you did, it was because of your parents’ pressuring you to join them on an overseas trip to Japan to meet with the Nakamuras. You were overly stressed out and Rosie conditioned you to go to her to release any frustrations you had. 

Was she surprised when you walked up to her in front of her roommates? No, because you were friends with them too. Was she surprised when you asked if she wanted to come over tonight? You weren’t sure, but you saw her head tilt, questioning before answering sure. You ignored the smirks that formed on their faces. 

Rosie knew something was up the moment you pushed her against the front door as soon as it shut, dragging your lips across her neck. 

“Everything okay?” Rosie asked in between breaths, letting out a squeak when you grabbed one of her legs, wrapping it around your waist. 

“Yeah,” You answered, ignoring your thoughts as you grounded your hips over hers. 

She didn’t ask anything else, moaning softly as you sucked on her collarbone, lifting her other leg to carry her to your room.

Rosie’s inner walls tighten along your cock on every pull out, and she moans, chest heaving as she takes your cock. Her body quivers in your hands as you saw yourself in and out, in and out. 

“Baby,” The pet name falls from her lips. She only calls you it when your balls deep in her, and it spurs you on every single time. “You feel so good.”

“You’re a good girl,” You murmured, pressing your chest against her back. You stop your movements, leaving your length fully sheathed inside, “Show me what good girls do.”

Rosie lets out a small whine, squirming as she moves her body along your cock. Her hips gyrating on yours has you seeing stars, moaning in her ear. Her pussy tightens, rubbing itself over and over, and you scoff, knowing she found the special spot inside of her. 

One hand slaps her ass, and she stops. 

You’ve learned a lot about Rosie this past month. She may mouth off at you a lot in public, but behind closed doors, she’s obedient as ever, tapping into a side of you you hadn’t been since Nayeon. You both soon realized, after a particularly long night together, that it was something you both enjoyed with each other. Whenever she was particularly bratty, especially with her friends there, it would rile you up a lot. 

“Good girls don’t cum first,” You say flatly. “Guess we stop now.” You slowly pull out before her hand reaches for yours, stopping your exit. 

“No no no,” Rosie whines, vigorously shaking her head. “I’m sorry, you just feel too good.”

“Selfish,” You click your tongue, shaking your head. 

“Baby please,” Rosie begs. She squeezes her inner walls on what’s remaining inside her, a dangerous trick she learned quickly, that has you groaning, slipping your length back inside. “Oh shit,” She moans at being filled.

“Fuck fine,” You relent, but you had other plans for her. You stand upright. You reach for her long blonde hair, tugging with enough force to pull her back against your chest. “But I’m fucking your pussy. This,” You snap your hips against hers, “Is mine. Right?”

Eyes widening, Rosie nods enthusiastically, “Yes baby yes.” 

“Mine?” You snap your hips again, watching her breasts bounce. 

“Yes,” She moans. 

“Say it.” 

Her hand turns your head towards her, bringing you in for a lustful kiss, tongues dancing as she moans, yours, into your mouth. 

You suddenly drop the grip on her hair, her body falling onto the bed, taking you with her. You fall on top of her prone form and start hammering into her pussy. 

You hope her screaming doesn’t get you a noise complaint, but if it does, you don’t give a flying fuck. Especially with the pressure her pussy is, squeezing your cock for all you have. 

“Fuck you’re so good,” Rosie bites into her lip, eyes rolling back as she grips the sheets, crumpling in her hand. “So fucking good,” She repeats in between moans.

“You’re being good for me,” Her pussy tightens at the praise. “Keep being good for me.”

Your hands grip her ass, drilling your cock into her, and something snaps inside of you when she screams. 

“Fuck this pussy’s mine,” You groan against her tangled hair. 

“Yours, yours, yours—oh fuck,” Rosie chants, eyes shooting open as her orgasm surprises you both. 

You feel your cock get pushed out as Rosie begins to squirt against your body, and she fucking gushes.

You’ve never made a girl squirt before, and Rosie has never had such a bodily reaction. You feel a streak of possessiveness rolls through your body. You shove your cock through her wetness, and you feel another rush of liquid as you wildly thrust in and out of her body.

“Fuck Chaeng,” You moan, your mind screaming mine mine, as your orgasm hits, shooting your load deep inside her. It must’ve triggered another orgasm because her pussy tightens again, knocking the air from your lungs, as your hips stutter erratically. 

“Jesus fuck,” Rosie pants from underneath you, her body still quivering from her orgasm. Your chest heaves, hands slipping underneath her waist to hold her tightly. “That was…I don’t even know.”

“Yeah,” You grunt, kissing her hair before gently pulling your cock out. You don’t know either because you’ve taken Rosie roughly before, but never like this. She lets out a quiet moan, sighing, as you glance down to the mess between you. Quite a mess indeed. 

Your body collapses next to Rosie as exhaustion takes over, but she quickly snuggles into you, wrapping an arm over your back. 

“Are you okay?” Rosie mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“Are you?” You turn your head to face her. The guilt washing in after you realize how hard you were on her. 

“Well I know for a fact I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m great,” Rosie kisses your skin, mumbling out, “But seriously, are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask quietly. 

Rosie stares at you, peeking her head over to search for an answer you’re scared she’ll find. She looks beautiful, and you’d love to tell her, but with the way she’s looking at you, something else might slip out. 

“You called me mine,” Rosie says softly, bringing her fingers to comb through your hair. 

“Sorry,” You bury your face into your pillow, embarrassed. “Heat of the moment,” You lie, knowing damn well it wasn’t. 

“Don’t be shy,” Rosie scratches your head. “It was cute,” Giggling softly before adding, “Being yours sounds nice.”

--

You’re at a bar with a few of your friends—Jennie and Lisa included. It’s a normal night out with your friends to celebrate making it another week. You couldn’t really enjoy it like you normally would because you’ve been checking your phone every couple minutes, waiting for a message you know is coming your way. 

“Oppa, pay attention to us,” Lisa whines next to you as Jennie chuckles on her lap. 

“If you want to have a threesome, just ask,” That comment earns you a hard smack on the arm from Jennie, huffing in her now-girlfriend’s lap. 

“Oh fuck off,” Jennie spits out, muttering to Lisa about how much of an asshole you are and why she ever slept with you. 

You check your phone for any notifications and your heart drops when you see one from Rosie. You casually glance to make sure neither of the girls are peering over your shoulder, while you hear them talking to Ryujin on their other side. 

You take a breath, tapping the screen to read the message. 

Soohyun asked me to be his girlfriend. 

You already knew it was coming, so why did it still hurt?

You lock your phone, shaking your head, as you try to process your emotions. 

The time you’ve been spending with Rosie is over, and you couldn’t help but feel sad over it. It feels like when you and Nayeon broke up, but a thousand times worse. It’s not like you two were actually a couple, mere fuck buddies that spent hours together watching shows, eating out with, and a lot of other things in between. 

But then why does it feel like it was more than a fuck? 

You were aware that you were growing attached to Rosie, but you feigned it off that it was just because of how much you saw each other. She became part of your routine, that you couldn’t remember the time when she wasn’t. 

Your attachment clearly was more because you developed feelings, actual feelings that weren’t revolving around lust. So yeah, you like Rosie, hell, you may even be in love with her at this point, but you lost your shot. 

And there probably won’t ever be another. 

You groan, slamming your hand on the table loud enough that it jolts the girls next to you. 

“Oppa, what the fuck?” Jennie asks, concerned with your sudden outburst. 

“I gotta go,” Your voice cracks, walking away before you break down completely.

“Wait!” Lisa yells after you, spurring you to move quicker through the crowd. 

You turn your head before you exit, but you can’t pinpoint their face in the sea of people. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing you lost them, before the thought of Rosie seeps back into your mind. 

You need something—anything—to get your thoughts and feelings off of her. An idea quickly comes to you, one that you regret having, but it’s your only option. 

You pull your phone out, scrolling through your contact list before hitting call. 

The line rings once before a concerned voice answers. 

“Book me a flight to Osaka.”

--

--

It’s been two weeks since you received a message that shattered you. 

It’s also been two weeks since you left for Osaka abruptly, deciding to join your parents to meet with the Nakamuras for another business formality. 

Your parents were surprised that you wanted to join, especially since the last discussion you had with your father had your mother having to step in between before either of you slammed the other into the wall. Your father was excited the moment you showed up at your childhood home straight after the club while your mother looked concerned. She asked if everything was alright, but you brushed her off, not wanting to get into it with her. 

Regardless, they were still happy you joined them. Your father more so as he made the off comment that it would be good to spend some time with Kazuha. 

Which you did, and with Satoshi. 

You gave Kazuha the heads up that you’d be arriving with your parents. She was another person surprised, but she welcomed you nonetheless. You also met her boyfriend, who you quickly became close to, much to Kazuha’s dismay. She’d tell anyone that she was the third wheel by how much you and Satoshi spoke. 

It was only meant to be a weeklong trip, but Kazuha and Satoshi invited you to stay for their school break, to visit Tokyo and Hiroshima. You jumped at the opportunity. Anything that kept you away from seeing Rosie and Soohyun holding hands on campus was what you wanted. 

Satoshi brought his younger sister along too, Kasumi. You thought she was a bit of a hothead, but she was pretty and you were in another country trying to get over someone. 

When it came down to actually hooking up, you couldn’t. Your body physically shut down from anything you two alluded to. Making out had no effect on you. Her rubbing her hand over your crotch felt nice, but not enough for you to get hard. You felt bad, but you explained that you just couldn’t because you weren’t in the right headspace for it. You were so caught up in your feelings with Rosie that you couldn’t perform, no matter how much Kasumi was interested. 

She understood, chuckling because she figured there was someone else, but she thought you were cute so she wanted to at least try. There weren’t any hard feelings, leaving Japan with two great friends. And Kazuha too, you guess. 

You hear your mother call your name out from across the aisle, motioning for you to sit next to her as the plane starts its descent. 

“How are you doing?” Your mother asks once you buckle your seatbelt. 

“I’m fine,” An automated response whenever either of your parents ask, but the difference between them is that your mother has a tendency to prod. 

“How was Tokyo?” 

“It was fun. Kazuha and Satoshi took me around,” You answer vaguely, knowing that if you shared actual details about what you did, she would have a heart attack. 

“That’s great,” Your mother nods, smiling. “How’s Chaeyoung?” 

You freeze. You knew your mothers spoke often, but she had rarely ever asked you about her. 

“I saw Alice a few weeks ago as I was coming home. She mentioned you and Chaeyoung had been spending some time together,” Your mother continues, noticing your sudden apprehension. 

Oh. 

That’s news to you because you didn’t think Rosie mentioned you to Alice of all people. The siblings were close, like really close, so if she talked about you, it probably meant something. But you were trying to get over her, and thinking about what it could mean would drive you crazy. 

“Oh, uh, Rosie’s doing well. I think she’s going abroad for her internship this summer, she just has to decide where she wants to go,” You say. Rosie had been bouncing ideas off you since she heard back. You were there when she received a couple emails, watching her shock and excitement paint her face. She nearly ripped your clothes off when she got accepted into the one she really wanted. 

“Fashion right? Chaeyoung always had an eye for that,” Your mother answers pensively. 

You’re inclined to say something else, but another question is thrown your way before you could. 

“Are you two dating?” 

“Mother,” You roll your eyes. 

“That’s not a no,” She quips, chuckling at your expense. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. You’ve always been fond of her ever since you were kids. We, her mother and I, have talked about it before.”

“What’re you even talking about?” You sigh, shaking your head. This conversation has taken a turn for the worse. You thought your mother wanted you to marry Kazuha, but apparently, she has been talking to Rosie’s mother about you two for years. 

“You don’t remember? You used to come home frustrated with Rosie, whining and grumbling about why she wouldn’t talk to you,” Her words unlock a box you kept hidden away. “It wasn’t until you hit high school where you pretty much gave up trying to be her friend. Even at that point, Rosie would talk to you, or maybe more antagonize you is a better description. You were beaming after those weekly dinners with the Parks.”

You didn’t comment as thoughts and feelings rushed to the surface. 

“Regardless, we thought you two would date at some point,” Your mother shrugged as if what she just said had no impact on you. 

Your mother doesn’t say anything else, opening one of her latest novels, signaling that the conversation is over. 

It really didn’t matter how you felt before, but then why does it feel like it’s making it a hundred times harder to get over her? 

--

You drop your duffel bag on the floor, kicking the door shut, as you’re finally home after two weeks. You plop your body on the couch, yawning from the flight. You have to go to campus tomorrow, which you weren’t entirely excited about. The chances of you seeing her were high, but you didn’t know what she was going to do. 

You’ve been avoiding all messages she sent you, which were a lot. She called you too, leaving a few voicemails that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. Kazuha caught you staring at your phone one night and made you promise not to open any messages that could derail your trip. It didn’t help Satoshi agreed, saying that it would be like a reset. 

You decide that now was the time to check them. 

Where are you? 

Can you answer the phone? 

I’m coming over. 

I’m outside, can you open the door? 

Fuck it, I know your code. 

Where the hell are you? 

Did you go to Osaka?

All those messages were from the day after Soohyun asked her to be his girlfriend. You saw she texted you everyday for a week asking if you could call her, but her last message broke you. 

I can only assume you went to Osaka. I hope everything’s okay. 

It takes everything in you to not reply now. If you do, you’d just be an asshole to her for no contact for two weeks. You’re an asshole either way, but it would rub salt in the wound. 

You check your other messages and see a few from Jennie, who rightfully curses you out for being a dick and to just respond so Rosie knows you're alive. Lisa sent one too, asking you where you are, but no threats. Jisoo’s message made you chuckle, a simple reply to her or else, was clear enough.

You sigh, locking your phone and tossing it on the coffee table. 

You’ll deal with everything tomorrow. 

--

The first person that approaches you on campus is Jennie. She shoves you, letting her when you know you could overpower her. 

“You’re a fucking ass,” Jennie pushes you again, enough force to lose your balance. 

“What did I do?” You stupidly ask, avoiding her piercing gaze. 

“You know what the hell you did, you better fucking talk to her,” Jennie says firmly, poking your shoulder. 

“If I see her,” You mumble, rubbing the spot. 

“You better,” You wait for her to say more, but the sound of her walking away brings your gaze to her retreating figure. 

Sighing as this isn’t how you want to start your day, you decide to be early for class.

The universe doesn’t even want you to be early because Nayeon stops you along the way.

“Hey I need a favor,” Nayeon asks, standing in front of you. 

“What?” You didn’t mean to sound irritated, but blame Jennie.

“Can you do this photoshoot for Mina and Sana? Their original photographer flaked, and they’re out of options,” Nayeon explains and you know she’s telling the truth. 

“Why me?” 

“I suggested you. I remember you taking photographs,” Nayeon smiles softly. “It’s a project that’s worth half their grade and their professor wants quality pictures.”

“What class is it for?” You prod, adding, “I’ve never done a modeling kind of shoot.”

“Their visual concepts class, I think. I don’t know. All I know is that they texted the group chat, stressing out,” Nayeon explains, shrugging since she was a film major. 

“Fine,” Nayeon claps happily, “Are you going to be there?” You had to ask, needing the time to mentally prepare yourself to spend, most likely, the whole day with her. 

“What? No,” Nayeon shakes her head. “I’ll be in Busan this weekend. Why did you want to hang out with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Absolutely not,” You say firmly and her shoulders drop. 

“Fine whatever,” Nayeon huffs, hiking her bag on her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll text you the details about it later. It’s tomorrow. I don’t think you need to bring anything, but bring your camera stuff just in case.” 

You nod, thinking about your schedule for tomorrow, which thankfully nothing was planned. 

“Oh,” Nayeon turns her head, adding one last detail before walking away, “Chaeyoung will be there too. She’s styling them.” 

Nayeon doesn’t wait for you to reply, leaving you speechless and even more irritated. 

Fucker. 

--

--

“Let’s take a break,” You announce after checking the shots you just took, satisfied with the outcome. “Fifteen?”

“Oh thank god,” Sana sinks to the ground as Mina chuckles next to her. “If we weren’t desperate, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Be thankful I care about this, or your project would be shit,” You answer, flicking through the pictures and thinking of how to change the lighting. 

“Thanks again for doing this, oppa,” Mina squeezes your arm before walking off to sit with Momo. 

You grumble a reply, turning without even thinking, and you accidentally bump into someone. 

“Shit sorry,” You look up to see Rosie five seconds away from losing the grip on the clothes she’s carrying. You immediately drop the camera against your chest, reaching for the items and taking it out of her hands. 

“It’s fine,” Rosie grabs the clothes back without another word, walking towards Mina. 

You sigh, shaking your head, trying not to lose focus on why you’re here. 

When you arrived this morning at one of the parks at the Han River, most of the crew was already present, setting up. You greeted everyone before seeing Rosie with Dahyun, discussing the outfits and concepts. 

“Hey good morning,” You greeted softly as you stood in front of them. 

Dahyun gave you a bright smile while Rosie forced hers, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

“Morning oppa!” Dahyun was as cheerful as ever at eight in the morning on a Saturday. “You could use the school’s equipment if you want,” She nods towards the table with the camera and lenses, “But feel free to use yours, whichever you feel comfortable with.” 

Another woman walked up to Dahyun, asking her to come with her to make sure they were correctly set up. Dahyun excused herself, leaving you alone with Rosie. 

“Chaeng—”

“Now you want to talk?” Rosie’s words cut sharply. “I don’t have anything to say to you right now, can we just get through today?” 

“Okay,” Was all you could say, nodding. You knew she had a lot to say, but neither of you could exactly hash it out with all these people around. 

“Okay,” Rosie nodded, grabbing whatever was near her, and walked away. 

Once Sana and Mina arrived, you quickly switched gears. You pushed whatever thoughts and feelings you had for Rosie aside, and went straight into work mode. 

You had zero experience taking photographs like this. Sure you’ve taken photos of your friends, and Nayeon would force you to take pictures of her whenever you went out. The last person you took a photo of was Rosie when you walked through the streets of Myeongdong a few weeks back. 

That was about as close as you got to taking pictures of people, but working like this was exhilarating.

You and Rosie worked well together too. It made you a lot more comfortable with directing with how seamlessly it went. You asked her opinion on what lighting should be used and she gave feedback that had the shots coming out great. Other than suggestions, your conversations had been minimal.

“You know,” Sana joins you in the empty seat next to you as you sift through the photos on the laptop, “You’re an asshole right?” 

“Okay what the fuck,” You break your attention away from the screen to a smirk on Sana’s face. 

“Chaeyoung-ah talks to us, and she sort of filled us in about this guy, who wasn’t Soohyun, that she had been seeing,” Sana sinks into the chair, glancing at the picture of her and Mina on the screen. “It wasn’t really hard to put two and two together about who she was referring to, and Nayeon confirmed something was going on between you.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You brush the woman off, rolling your eyes as you delete one of the blurry shots. 

“Sure you don’t,” Sana chuckles, “But regardless of whatever was going on between you two, you should know—if you don’t already—Rosie didn’t say yes to Soohyun when he asked her out.”

You don’t let her words faze you as you continue to delete shots you don’t deem worthy. 

“One could only wonder right?” Sana goes on, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Soohyun’s a good-looking guy, nice enough, and spent a fair amount of time courting her, just for him to be rejected.”

“What are you getting at Sana?” You stop what you were doing, turning to face her. 

“Just wanted to figure out why Rosie said no,” Sana shrugs as Dahyun passes by, informing her that it’s time for the next outfit change. “Anyways, Rosie wouldn’t say, but it’s obvious why.”

“And why is that?” You take the bait, preparing yourself for whatever’s going to come out of Sana’s mouth next. 

“Because of you,” Sana stands, letting out a small yawn. “Anyways, let’s get this over with. I’m ready to drink. Don’t be a dick.” 

You aren’t sure if Sana was referring to herself or to Rosie, and you couldn’t ask since she left to go change into the next outfit. 

--

The rest of the photo shoot goes without a hitch. You tried your best to not let the conversation with Sana bleed into your work, and you hoped no one noticed. It was slightly harder than it was already to work with Rosie, but you maintained some sense of professionalism. 

There was a minor issue with the zipper breaking on Sana’s dress, but Rosie was quick to fix the problem by throwing a blazer over her. Other than that, everything went well. You thanked everyone for their help today, realizing it was a long day, which everyone was happy to hit the bar once everything was packed up. 

You offered to edit the pictures for them, since you didn’t exactly want to go out. Mina said you didn’t have to, but you were adamant about it. Sana shrugged, indifferent if you joined or not. 

You see Rosie talking to Momo and swallow your pride as you make your way to them. 

“Come on Chaeng,” You catch Momo say as you get closer. “It’ll be fun!” 

“I don’t think so Momo,” Rosie shakes her head. “I just want to stay in tonight.”

“One drink?” Momo begs as you stand next to the women. 

“Sorry Momo,” Rosie smiles, eyes falling on you before her smile slowly fades. 

“Oppa, convince her to go,” Momo pouts. 

“I’m with her on this one Momo,” She frowns, shaking her head, muttering something in Japanese that makes you laugh. “I understand, you know that right?” 

Momo’s eyes widened, cheeks starting to turn red before walking away. 

Once Momo’s a good distance away, you turn to Rosie, a sad smile forming on your face as she looks everywhere but at you. 

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly. 

“So talk,” Rosie crosses her arms. 

“Like in private? Please.”

Rosie relents, sighing. “Let’s just finish with cleaning up and we can go for a walk okay?” 

“Okay,” You nod, grateful that she’s giving you the time of day. 

You have to be honest with her, and if she rejects you completely, at least you can say you tried. 

—

Rosie shivers next to you, the chill of the sunset creeping in. You shrug your coat off, wrapping it around her shoulders. 

“Thanks,” Rosie mumbles out as you continue walking along the river. 

There are a few people out as well, mostly couples huddled together. It almost makes you want to wrap an arm around her to keep her warm. You won’t though because it’s awkward. 

Rosie walks into the convenience store without saying anything, which you follow her into. She grabs an instant coffee before turning to you, asking if you wanted anything. You shake your head, even though the bottle of soju behind the glass screams your name. 

When she goes to pay, you quickly swipe your card before she could say no. She scoffs, shaking her head, as she walks out. You follow her, keeping a small distance as you watch her take small sips with every step. She stops, leaning on the railing, and stares out to the river. 

Naturally you join her, letting the background noise fill the silence. 

After a few minutes, Rosie says, “You wanted to talk, so go ahead.” 

“First off, I’m sorry,” You say quietly. You apologize for not replying, and most likely worrying her. You explain that going to Osaka was an impulsive choice, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior. 

“Well why? Did I do something?” Rosie turns to face you, lip quivering. You notice her eyes suddenly glossy, and it pangs you to see her like this. 

“No, no,” You shake your head firmly, closing your eyes as you choose your next words carefully. “When I got that text about Soohyun, I finally accepted something.” 

“What?” 

You slowly open your eyes, staring at her features, completely enamored by her. Like you always have been. 

“I’m in love with you,” You admit for the first time out loud, and you’re happy it’s to her. 

Rosie’s eyes widen, gaze looking away as her whole body shifts to face the water again. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that right?” Rosie says quietly. “And an idiot.” She adds, huffing. 

Not the response you were expecting, but before you could ask what she means, she tells you anyway. 

“I’ve spent mostly every day with you for the past month, then we have a really intense night of sex where you fucking claimed me,” You wince at her words, “Then you just leave for two weeks without any contact to come back and say you’re in love with me because of a text of someone asking me out?” 

“Well when you put—”

“I’m not finished,” Rosie huffs, facing you once again. “I’m in love with you, too dumbass. After that last night, I realized that as much as you piss me off, as much as you’re so fucking stubborn, that the idea of being yours felt real. I couldn’t say yes to Soohyun when I unknowingly said yes to you.” 

“You want to be with me?” You stare at her, dumbfounded. 

“If that wasn’t clear enough, yes,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “We’ve basically already been dating, so if you’d just stop running away after and just talk to—whoa,” She gasps when your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her into you, tilting her head up. 

“Say it,” You ghost your lips against hers, moving as she misses. 

“See, stubborn,” There’s a sharp inhale when you kiss her sweetly. 

“Say it,” You mumble, dipping your tongue in as she lets out a moan. 

“Yours,” Rosie wraps her arms around your neck, melting into you as the kiss deepens. 

“I love you,” You detach your lips, resting your forehead against hers. 

“I love you too,” Tracing her fingers along your neck, “Even though you’ve been a jerk these past two weeks. How are you going to make it up to me?” 

“I can think of a few ways.”

--

--

Rosie slams the door behind you, wincing at the frames rattling against the wall. She kicks her shoes off aggressively, barely sparing you a glance as she walks to your room. That door also slams. 

She’s pissed. 

Maybe it was your fault. Okay so it was your fault, but you didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You met up with a few of your friends to celebrate the end of exams and the school year. It was also a small farewell to you and Rosie as you were going to Paris together for the summer. Rosie took the internship at YSL and she was able to get you one too after she sneakily sent over the portfolio from the project. 

Your parents didn’t mind, figuring it would be good for you to take this time before you graduate into the real world. They were supportive that if you decided to do it for real, they’d be more than okay with it. That surprised you, but you couldn’t complain. Though the teasing from your mother was enough. 

You were at the bar, waiting to get your order when Ryujin sat in your lap. You couldn’t do anything as her weight pressed you down. 

“What the hell Ryujin?” You try to get her off you. 

“Oppa, come on. When are you going to ditch Chaeyoung and get back to bed with me?” Ryujin grounds her hips over your crotch, stealing a moan from you as the movement catches you off guard. 

“I’m not going to,” You grit out as she repeats the movement. 

“What the fuck?” You hear Rosie’s voice behind you, gathering the strength to push the woman off your lap. 

“I can explain!” You turn to face her, hands up. 

“Come on Chaeyoung, share him,” Ryujin trails a finger up your chest. “I miss him.” 

“Oh you fucking—” You step out of Ryujin’s hold, lungeing for your girlfriend before she mauls the other woman. 

“Let’s go,” You nearly carry Rosie out as she squirms against your hold. A few people stare as you walk by, but she was about five seconds away from causing a bigger scene, that you couldn’t care less. 

Once you got outside, Rosie ripped into you. She called you every name in the book for doing that. When you explained that you were pushing her off, she called you an idiot for even allowing it. You had no response, knowing it was a lost cause. 

Officially dating Rosie for the past few months, you learned a lot, especially the type of girlfriend she was. She’s more affectionate, tender, soft when it’s just you or with her closest friends. She does a lot for you without even realizing you need help. She acts indifferent to the public about things, but tells you how she feels and what she thinks in private. She shows you in more ways than one just how much she loves you. 

But she’s still the same too. 

She still argues with you over anything and everything. She mouths off whenever she doesn’t get her way (you give in anyways). She relentlessly teases you any chance she gets. 

She’s also very possessive of you. She hates when any girls glance your way. She especially despises any of your past flings (except Jennie) as they boldly ask you to hook up with her right there. She can’t stand it when you say she’s jealous because she’s not. But her use of mine is repeated multiple times as she fucks you to remind you who you belonged to, like you could forget. 

She’s still the biggest pain in your ass, but you love her anyway. 

You open your room door, surprised to see Rosie already changed for bed. She’s adorable dressed in your clothes, the size just a tad too big on her body. You quietly close the door, ignoring her movements as you grab clothes from the dresser. 

When you join her in bed, sliding under the covers, you lay on your side, staring at her scroll through her phone. 

“Chaeng,” You pout as she continues scrolling. “Come on, you know I didn’t do anything.” 

“Why’d you let her sit on your lap then?” Rosie says sarcastically. 

“I didn’t. She just sat there,” You reason, rolling your eyes at her pettiness. 

“Cause you just keep your lap available for anyone to sit on?” 

“Jesus christ, you know I don’t. You’re acting like a brat,” You huff, rolling onto your back. 

“I’m acting like a brat?” Rosie raises her voice, her phone tossed on the nightstand. She hovers over you, eyes narrowing, “I’m not the one letting girls openly sit on my lap when I’m clearly in a relationship.”

“Believe me, everyone knows that I am,” You glare, deciding right then and there you’re going to taunt her. “Not my fault my dick’s just that good they miss me.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Rosie scoffs, “It’s not even that good.” 

“What do you have to compare it to? You’ve only slept with me and clearly aren’t going after anyone else’s dick,” It’s a low blow, but she’s starting to piss you off. 

In a flurry of movements, Rosie swings her leg over you, cupping your chin rather aggressively before whispering, “Did you want me to? I’m sure there’s still a line of guys dying to get inside of me.”

Your temper flares, hands gripping her waist before flipping her over. 

Now if Rosie’s possessive of you, naturally you’re possessive of her. Probably worse. 

You find your hands underneath your shirt, and she shivers at your touch. 

“Is that a no?” Rosie moans when you pinch her nipples. 

You remove your hands, reaching for the hem of your shirt before throwing it somewhere off to the side. You rip the shirt off her body before slotting yourself in between her legs, pressing most of your weight on top of her. 

“I guess I have to ask,” You start peppering her jaw with kisses, “Do you want to be disappointed?” 

Rosie moans as you gently suck on her sweet spot, smirking against her skin as her hips roll against your crotch. Your cock twitches, but you don’t let your control slip that easily. 

“How-how would I be disappointed?” Rosie tilts her head back, granting you more access as you continue leaving marks along her neck. 

“You’d be comparing them to me,” You thrust against her, just so she could feel what she’s doing to you. 

“Doubtful,” Rosie’s hand slips underneath your waistband, taking hold of your cock as she strokes you. 

“I know you would,” You whisper against her ear, “You wouldn’t cum, I know that for sure.”

“What makes you so confident?” Her grip tightens, a groan falling from your lips. 

“Maybe cause you’re mine,” You nip at her ear, grounding your hips against hers. Her legs wrap around your waist, an all too familiar move that has you rutting into her, mimicking exactly what you were going to do to her. 

“Yours?” 

“Mine,” You tear the shirt over her head, whimpering at her hand leaving you. You tug her shorts down to see her bare pussy, wet and glistening under the low light of your room. You salivate, but tuck those thoughts away for later because you need to get inside her more than anything right now. 

“Better remind me,” Rosie sighs, breath stuttering, as she stares at the obvious bulge in between her legs. “I could probably walk outside and someone would wanna fuck me.”

Your control snaps, shoving your sweats to free your cock. You miss the gasp falling from her lips, but you hone in as you aim your cock at her entrance. 

“Absolutely not,” You snap your hips forward, giving her no time to adjust to the ruthless pace you set on her body. “Only I could do this.”

You spread her legs wider, watching her eyes roll back. Her hips meet every thrust, taking you just like she knows how to. Her long drawn out moans quickly turn into high pitched screams that ring in your ears. 

“Baby,” Rosie brings one hand in between her legs, furiously rubbing her clit as her walls clamp onto your length. “You fuck me so—fuck.” 

Your earlier irritation bleeds away, suddenly feeling the need to make sure Rosie doesn’t forget exactly who makes her feel this good. 

You fill her to the hilt, groaning into the crook of her neck as her pussy contracts around your cock. 

“Baby,” Rosie pants, chest heaving against yours as she tries to move. Your hips have her pinned against the bed, so it’s futile as she writhes underneath you. “Don’t stop, please.” She breathes out, her hand still moving in between you, creating a delicious friction. 

You want her to beg, but with the way she’s squeezing your cock like her life depended on it has you giving in 

“Tell me.”

“Yours-please, please,” Rosie shakes her head, the pressure in between her legs growing. 

“Mine?” You draw your hips back, leaving the head of your cock in. 

“Fuck, yours,” Rosie screams when you slam into her body, hooking her legs over your shoulders as you resume fucking her with everything you’ve got. 

You’re usually not this rough, but a more primal, baser, need takes over. She yelled at you for something that was completely out of your control. Could you have handled it differently? Sure, but she could have handled it differently too. 

You’ve spent enough time with Rosie to know she acts like this to rile you up. You honestly have no problem putting her in her place, especially if it’s in between her legs. 

Rosie’s orgasm rips through her body, back arching suddenly as her hands hold you close. Her nails dig into your skin, nails scratching down your back, which you know will leave marks. 

“Again,” You command, fucking her thoroughly as her pussy spasms around your cock. 

Rosie’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out as her lips form a perfect ‘O’ before a gush of wetness drenches you. 

You pull out quickly, deciding that she doesn’t get to feel you cum inside her—at least right now. It takes you no more than four pumps of your cock before you explode over her body. You aim in between her lower lips, making a bigger mess of her as your mind shuts off. 

You’re both gasping for air, but your eyes fixate on the rise and fall of Rosie’s chest. Moving on impulse alone, you lower yourself, peppering her chest with your lips. One hand lazily drapes over your neck, scratching softly as quiet moans leave her body. 

“Okay,” Rosie mumbles after a couple minutes, gently tugging you off. “You made your point. I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Good,” You roll off of her, but quickly pull her body into yours. 

“No one else can fuck you either,” Rosie musters out as threatening as possible. It falls short because she’s still trying to catch her breath, exhausted. 

“I know,” You kiss her temple. “Only want you anyways.” 

“Good,” She snuggles into your side, slotting a leg in between yours. 

You offer to clean up, but she pulls you tighter, telling you five more minutes. You chuckle, knowing her body well enough that she’s going to pass out. 

“Love you,” You murmur, lips on her skin again because you couldn’t get enough of her. 

“I love you,” Rosie sighs dreamily. 

You hear light snores after a minute, eyes rolling fondly. You sink into the embrace, closing your eyes as well. 

You’ll clean later, content with the woman in your arms, who will—if you had to bet—want to go again. 

--

--

--

[sitepathos]

I just thought of something. What if everything happened as usual with the kidnapping and torture, but it lasts for weeks before Alfred comes back and Reader turned into Deadpool and went on a rampage, killing criminals and yelling: Where is Francis?

So, you were tortured for weeks before being thrown into the Megamycete’s cavern.

You thought you hated the Bats more than anything.

But after pissing off your kidnappers, causing you to be tortured for weeks, you hate them more than anything in the world.

Your fury towards them is second only to Gotham’s criminal element.

Many believe Batman and his birds are saving the city.

But you know better; they’re dooming Gotham into a perpetual state of crime.

Think about it: criminal escapes, causes damage and death, Batman captures criminal and throws them into Arkham, criminal gets pissed and vows revenge, rinse and repeat.

All of Arkham have made it their mission to best the Bat and don’t care how many people suffer.

And all because Bruce is too much of a pussy to do what must be done.

You don’t dress up in a costume and beat up a tumor, you grab a knife and cut it out.

And the Megamycete agrees with you.

It’s absorbed so many people who’ve met horrible fates by the Batman-obsessed criminals and seeing you want to change that leads to it making a deal with you.

In exchange for exterminating every criminal in Gotham and finally putting an end to the Bats, it agrees to give you full access to its powers.

That night, you get revenge on your kidnappers and wipe out an entire criminal bar, leaving a message that this is only the beginning and when your work is done, every criminal in Gotham will be dead and the Bats would be saved for last.

You spend the next few months cutting a bloody swath across the city, killing every criminal, both major and minor, in every corner.

Jason was PISSED when he found out you had killed every last rapist, murderer, drug dealer, and mugger in Crime Alley.

That’s his territory, he wanted to be the one to do that, damn it!

The Bats are obsessed with finding the one responsible and it makes you giggle when you hear them talking about you, not suspecting that you, the long-forgotten black sheep of the Wayne Family, are the one they spend every waking second looking for.

Your masterpiece was when you decapitated Joker and left it in a box next to the Batsignal for them to find.

The look on Bruce’s face made you feel warm inside.

Finally, when the last criminal was put in the ground, you left a message for them, telling them that you’d be waiting for all of them at the top of Wayne Tower tomorrow night.

This was it, the moment you’d been building up to for months.

But it wasn’t enough to kill them.

You wanted to tell Bruce his greatest regret turned out to be better than him at keeping Gotham safe.

You wanted to make Dick feel like a failure of a big brother and that you grew up perfectly without him in your life.

You wanted to show Jason you were the stronger one.

You wanted to make Tim realize you were smarter than him.

You wanted to put an end of Stephanie jokes and pranks.

You wanted the world to hear Cassandra to cry out in pain before killing her.

You wanted Damian to realize you were the superior one.

And Bruce would be the last one you kill; you rip off his limbs slowly, one by one, until he was a limbless slab of meat writhing on the ground.

After that, you’d make him watch as you killed his children in the most gruesome ways possible and he could do nothing but watch and listen as they begged you for death.

Finally, when the last one lies dead, you’ll hold him up by the throat and make him watch as both Wayne Manor and Gotham Clocktower are devoured by the Megamycete’s roots, leaving him the only Bat alive.

With that done, you’ll take the form of both his parents and using their voices, tell him how they’ve always hated him and how disappointed they are in his choices and how he should’ve died instead of them that night.

With his spirit finally broken, you’ll leave him on the rooftop and fly away as the Megamycete’s roots tear into the Tower and send it crumbling down to the ground, taking the now broken Batman with it.

With your revenge complete, you’ll plunder the remains of Wayne Manor and take the sizable fortune for yourself before leaving this godforsaken city behind.

And with your new fortune?

Well, Momma always talked about buying a small yacht and sailing into the sunset.

Just like how so many of her books ended.

You’ve heard Fiji is beautiful this time of year.

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + r. reigns

authors note: so, a lot of this stems from convos with the lovely @fearlesschimera where one tree hill was brought up. and i loved me some nathan and haley. plus, i'm loving everything about this otc era and needed to write something about it now vs having to wait with my other stories cause we ain't there yet lmao

might be a part two. idk if this even makes sense tbh

words: 3.1k

warnings: none, really? some language? kayfabe story.

There are exactly two sides to Roman Reigns.

The good side and the bad side. 

And Nova Reigns has experienced them both with an unfortunate increase in the latter versus the former. 

She can pinpoint exactly when it started, too. 

When things started to get difficult again.

2020. COVID. While the world was an absolute mess, chaos and death occurring globally every day, her husband of over ten years wasn’t much better. He’d decided to stay home, not wanting to risk bringing home anything that could put her pregnancy with their first daughter, Arabella, Bella as they affectionately called her, at risk. 

It was also so he could figure out just what the hell he was doing with his career. Roman was frustrated. Tired of going along with what was always told of him instead of doing it his way. And it’s why when he returned back to work that summer, he came back a completely changed man. Bigger, stronger, meaner.

This was a different Roman Reigns. The likes of which the WWE had never seen.

And it’s been a ride ever since.

Up and downs along the way. 

A lot of ups up until WrestleMania 40 where after 1,316 days as the undisputed universal champion and unable to let go of a betrayal from so many years ago, Roman lost. He lost his title and something so much deeper that night.

His sense of self.

Nova did the best she could in the months he’d been off to keep his spirits lifted, to support him, often encouraging Bella to ask her dad to do stuff with her even when Nova technically could. Asked him to care for their two year old daughter, Camillia, Cami, as she worked from home, something she’s done for almost the entirety of her post college career. 

But most importantly, Nova worked to help Roman repair the relationship with their oldest son, Roman Jr., RJ, as they’ve called him since the day he was born.

To say the relationship is awful would be an exaggeration. No, it’s just…..fragile.

A fragility that Nova has tried so hard over the past couple of years to strengthen to no avail. A large part of the issue being the fact that her twenty year old son is just as stubborn as his father. Twins, she often calls them. Similar heights, build, personalities, etc. 

Great when they want to be. A pain in the ass when they don’t need to be.

A painful situation all around though, especially when she thinks back to how this all started, to how someone like Nova ended up with someone like Roman.

And it’s a simple answer, really.

He was an idiot.

Well, when it came to English, that was.

Once upon a time ago, Roman wasn’t the massive WWE superstar that he is now. He was just Roman Reigns. The typical, popular jock of their high school. A football player with the stereotypical ego to match. And she was just Nova, the geeky underclassmen who always had a secret crush on the boy she never thought in a million years would look her way.

And truth be told, if not for the fact his coach threatened to bench him if he didn’t raise his English grade, he probably never would have. Hell, she’s certain the only reason he knew she existed was because she was the best and smartest kid in class, so of course their teacher would recommend her for a tutor. 

The answer was initially no. Not necessarily because she was opposed, but more because her crush on him was too big to not get distracted. Even though his jerkish tendencies should have done just that. 

But Roman has always been charismatic and persistent, and before she knew it, she’d agreed. And that agreement changed everything because it showed her for the first time the nice side of Roman, the side that secretly loved music and was surprisingly good at math. The side that struggled with feeling like he’d never be good enough or live up to his family’s athletic reputation both in football and wrestling.

It made her realize and see that Roman was just as human as everyone else. 

It made her fall in love with him.

And that was rocky, too. Navigating his constant struggle of wanting to admit his feelings for her while also being embarrassed about her and wanting to hide their relationship. It created a fair set of conflict, and Nova shed her fair share of tears.

Especially as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, plush, purple rug cushioning her bottom but not the blow that was the two lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. But, seven months later, with her mom on one side and Roman on the other, she shed a different set of tears. Different kinds of tears.

Happiness.

Happiness at welcoming her first child into the world, Roman Reigns Jr. 

RJ

Being teen parents, especially at the tender ages of 16 and 18 was most definitely nothing like it was depicted on the reality shows. It was rough, especially as Roman started college, opting to stay local to help her raise their child as she finished her senior year. They fought, they argued, they disagreed, but at the end of the day, they still loved.

And it was that love that carried them through the rocky years of Roman trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life as Nova worked a job and raised their son while pursuing her degree in software engineering. She also stayed local to benefit from the help of her family while chasing her dream. It was rough, it was hard, but they did it.

Even with having to be on food stamps and financial assistance at times to take care of their child, Nova struggling to enter the male dominated workforce of tech and Roman not always having consistent income, they did it. 

And they were happy.

They still are. Just….not like it used to be. 

Nova still loves her husband with all of her heart and soul. They’ve been through too much together for her to ever really leave him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind from time to time. Especially over the past four years, watching him almost revert back to that bully from high school as he manipulated and mentally abused his family, his cousins, his lifetime best friends so much so that the Bloodline he worked so hard to create crumbled right before him.

And it’s only deteriorated since he lost the title to Cody Rhodes. Solo had turned on Roman, brutally kicked Jimmy out of the Bloodline and invited in non-family. Week after week, taking shot after shot at her husband, his cousin, his flesh and blood. 

Going so far as to take the sacred ula fala and declare himself the tribal chief. An honor that was bestowed upon Roman by the elders of his family. It finally reached a point where Roman had enough, making his grand return at SummerSlam and preventing his once enforcer from taking the very title Roman still believes is rightfully is. 

He’s made intermittent returns since then, each one proving just why Roman Reigns is being considered one of the greatest of all time, even while still in the middle of his career. His aura is unmatched. The sales don’t lie. The numbers don’t lie. 

The OTC is WWE. 

But, Roman has been a bit on edge since he was unexpectedly jumped by his other cousin, Jacob, Solo’s latest dangerous addition to the Bloodline.

Nova especially knows he was even more pissed because she’d taken the girls to his show that night, at his request.

He hates looking ‘weak’ in front of him, despite the fact that both were too consumed in kids' devices to pay attention. But, she was. And if anything, it was hard for her to see him be attacked like that, all alone. 

No one in his corner.

Jey’s moved to Raw.

Jimmy is still trying to figure out if he even wants to come back.

Solo has lost his damn mind. 

Sami…..no comment.

And Paul is still recovering from his brutal assault by the new Bloodline. 

The island of relevancy has a population of one. And while that one is formidable as all outdoors, he’s still just a man.

Granted, as much as it pains her to see Roman go at this alone, it’s hard for her to feel all the way bad for him. He did this. His actions drove his family away. 

Well, not all of them.

“Game!” Bella’s soft voice pulls Nova from reflecting on memory lane as she redirects her attention to where her son sits on the sofa in Roman’s locker room, Cami on his lap, grabbing his phone.

RJ chuckles, unlocking the iPhone and asking, “what you wanna play?”

Cami gasps and claps her hands. “Cookie!”

“Cookie Kingdom?” RJ asks, clicking around on his phone and handing it to her. “There ya go, lil’ bit.”

Nova’s smile is warm as she reflects on what feels like so long ago. “I remember when you were that little.”

RJ looks up at her, and it never ceases to amaze her how much he looks like his father. Complexion a little deeper, melanin he inherited from her, but outside of that, Roman could never deny paternity. 

He sucks his teeth. “Mama, don’t start that.”

“What?” Nova pouts, leaning back into the sofa, Bella tuned out of the conversation as she watches Bluey on her tablet. It’s always a bit funny to her how uninterested these kids just are when it comes to seeing Roman at work.

At least, not until he’s actually in their line of vision.

“You’ll always be my baby.” Because he will. Twenty and over 6ft tall or not, he’s her baby boy. “And speaking of baby, what’s going on with you and that girl you been dating?”

RJ rolls his eyes and adjusts Cami on his lap. He’s so good with his little sisters. “Nothing.”

Nova smirks knowingly, picking up on the faint hit of redness on his cheeks. “Sure don’t seem like nothing.”

“Mama, she’s just a friend.”

“So ya’ll aren’t sexually active?”

RJ turns up his nose, clearly disgusted. “Ma, how you just gon’ ask me that?”

“Because I’m your mama and not ready to be a grandma, and your daddy would kill you if you were to get a girl pregnant halfway through college.”

It’s not missed upon Nova how the mention of Roman seems to completely dampen his mood. RJ rolls his eyes. “Like he cares at all.”

His comment hurts her. Deeply. “RJ….”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

She ignores that apology, wanting to focus on the initial comment that has her stomach knotting for all the wrong reasons. “Your dad loves you, Junior. You have to know that.”

There’s a slight delay in his answer, and that alone is enough to make Nova know she needs to talk to Roman again tonight about actually talking with his son. A below the surface level conversation. A heart to heart.

“I know that, mama. I do. It’s just….” RJ blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You know how he is.”

She does. Very well. “You can say it. He’s an ass sometimes.” She’s so grateful for the headphones on Bella’s ears and the deep infatuation Cami has with her brother’s phone.

“You said it. Not me.” Mother and son share a laugh, RJ admitting, “I know he means well.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do better. I’ll talk to him again.”

RJ immediately looks like he feels bad, which only makes Nova’s chest ache more. “You don’t have to—”

She lifts her finger to silence him. “You’re my son. He’s my husband. I love you both, and it kills me to see ya’ll like this. I’m gonna do what I can.” And that’s a vow. The three of them have been through too much shit over the years for her to just allow the relationship between the two most important men to fall apart. She won’t let that happen. 

She can’t.

And speaking of, the door to Roman’s locker room opens, her husband walking in looking every bit as strong, powerful, and determined as he looked when he interfered yet again with Solo’s match and especially as he closed the door of that cage and challenged Jacob. 

Nova shifts in her seat, the memory bringing up other kinds of feelings which are entirely inappropriate given the presence of her children.

Cami is the first girl to notice him, lifting up her little arms and reaching for him, nearly dropping RJ’s phone in the process if not for his quick reflexes.

He most definitely got that from Roman as well, because Nova has not an athletic bone in her body.

Roman walks over and takes her from RJ, kissing her cheek, gaze almost reluctantly falling on RJ. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Nova starts to scold Roman for such a cold introduction to their son they haven’t seen since he left for his sophomore year of college over a month ago. “Mom asked me to.”

She’s good at reading between the lines, picking up on the fact that he’s essentially saying he’s only here because of Nova.

Not Roman.

Roman notices this, she’s sure. He’s a perceptive bastard. But, he says nothing. “How’s school?”

“Fine.” 

“RJ.” And her son can be a petty bastard. Like father, like son. She directs her statement to Roman, “I was thinking we could go to his game tomorrow—”

RJ, however, is quick to dismiss this. “You don’t have to.”

Nova’s gaze on Roman allows her to see the hurt that flashes in his eyes at the rejection. But as has been the case lately, he pushes it aside, replacing it with indifference. “You heard what he said. He doesn’t want us there, so we wo—”

“That’s not what I said.” RJ leans back against the chair and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, clearly frustrated. “You always do this. Always hear what you want to hear.” He scoffs, head turned, muttering, “I see why everybody left you.”

Nova gasps. “RJ!” She sees it, the hurt that’s just tripled and is about to be expressed in anger, leading to another big blowout between the two of them. Thankfully, this is the moment Bella finally becomes aware of Roman’s presence.

“Daddy!” She pulls off her headphones, climbs off the sofa and runs over to him, hugging his legs. 

Roman doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, both daughters in his arms as Nova leans over, running her hand through her fresh silk press. This. This is what she wanted to avoid. These are the kinds of situations that leave her in tears as she vents to her therapist about her ever growing stress levels, how torn she feels in what to do in moments like this. 

Roman is her husband, but RJ is her son. Neither is fully right, but neither is fully wrong either. How does one handle that?

Thankfully, it’s not long after that Roman is being called to prepare to get back out in the ring. This means a probably needed separation from the two titans in her life. Nova holds Cami this time, while Bella hangs onto RJ as they’re escorted ringside. 

It takes a bit of persuasion to get RJ to agree to come with her. She can see he’s ready to just leave.

But, reminding him of how big a help he is with the girls seems to win him over because while he’s certainly not in the best of places with his dad, RJ is a mama’s boy through and through. He loves him some Nova and would do anything to help her. 

Even if it means helping her with the two siblings that came as a complete shock to him.

It still makes Nova laugh a little as she recalls the horrified and almost disgusted expression on his face as she and Roman broke the pregnancy news to him.

“I didn’t even know ya’ll still did that.” And if his statement wasn’t bad enough, he just had to add insult to injury as the blunt almost 16 year-old he was at the time. “Ain’t ya’ll kinda old to still be freaking?”

No. 

Never that.

“Daddy!” This time it’s Cami who’s calling out to Roman, recognizing his new music before he even emerges from the back looking as badass as he always does. Nova is temporarily in a state of awe, overhearing Bella asking RJ to hold her so she can see better. 

Roman has come so far, done so well for himself, even with things with his family being a hot ass mess, there’s still no denying he is it. That he has it. It’s undeniable. She almost feels bad for Cody.

He’ll always be stuck in Roman’s shadow. 

The thought makes her suddenly curious about what could be one of the reasons behind the strife between her firstborn and husband. Nova tucks this in the back of her mind, planning to discuss it further in therapy.

As Roman moves into the ring, Nova stands on the sidelines, holding her baby girl on her hip, smiling back and forth between the two. She watches Roman move around the ring on their commercial break

And when his gaze falls on the set of them, her heart swells as he mouths ‘I love you’ before seamlessly transitioning back into that hardened, determined expression.

And this is why there’s two sides to Roman Reigns. The good side being the one that she sees in that brief, vulnerable exchange. The one that used to kiss her pregnant stomach as he confided in her his fears about not being a good dad, about feeling not ready, about worrying about failing in life. 

Failing her. 

Failing himself.

Failing their child.

The man who worked so hard and gave everything his all to prove he was someone, becoming that someone, yet somehow losing something in the process.

Nova knows it’s still in there though, knows that he is still the boy he fell in love with many moons ago. She knows that as frustrated as he makes her, as cold he can be, as disconnected he can seem, that love is still there and just as strong. 

And she’ll fight for it. 

For him. 

For their son.

For their family. 

She has to.

[s7-evermore]

To Love You Once More [Time Travel! AU]

Vil Schoenheit x Fem! Artist!Yuu (/reader)

This is just a concept I got in mind. Not sure if I’ll keep continuing it. This was just the result of some daydreams caused by Bruno Mars’ and Lady Gaga’s new song lol

“Um…Vil, we’re ready now.”

The young man slowly lifts his head upon hearing the sound of his name. Weary eyes shifts to the figure past the bed in front of him where the new head of STYX, Idia Shroud, stands.

“It’s time to push through with the mission. We’ll take care of her from here.”

Vil Schoenheit gazes longingly at the woman on the bed. A year passed when she went missing, and another since she’d been asleep. He misses the way those eyes perceived the world, how they looked at him with so much love and care.

His thumb brushes against the back of her hand as he held her. He remembers how these hands of hers would hold a brush and paint to her heart’s desire. How she would squeeze his hand to reassure him that she was there.

He lifts his free hand and places them on her abdomen. He feels her breathing, and the loss of the life they had been anticipating together.

Noticing the gesture, Idia clears his throat to speak.

“…We uh, we couldn’t find anything on the baby,” he said slowly, “we checked all the human test subjects they’ve preserved. None of them were newborns. We— we don’t know where they…they dispose of them either— uh, yet, at least.”

“And Grim?” Vil asked.

“Nothing on him either.”

“…I see,” Vil’s voice was no more than a whisper. 

Vil stands from his seat and leaves her with three kisses. One on her wedding ring, a second on the back of her hand, and another on her forehead. 

Vil feels his heart breaking with every second she remained asleep. They said she wasn’t dead, but she didn’t look alive either. She was breathing, but he could barely hear it unless he held his own.

With heavy reluctance, he lets go of her hand and leaves the room with Idia.

“Since we used a bit of her power to run the Trackback machine, it can only work on one person and once,” Idia explains as they walk down the hallway. “Once you’re back there, you can’t return here. Our present now will change depending on how much you change the past.”

Idia halts in front of a door and faces Vil, “This whole mission is dependent on your success. She’s already weak, so we can’t use any more of her power.”

“I understand,” Vil’s expression hardens.

Idia nods in acknowledgement as he pulls out a keycard and scans it on the side of the door. The door opens as an artificial voice acknowledges his position.

The laboratory they enter is completely busy. Technicians were checking the diagnostics of the machine while other scientists were setting the systems up. Ortho, who had been assisting someone, notices them.

“Brother! We’ve done the final system tests on the Trackback machine, everything’s ready for the operation,” Ortho says as he approached.

“Good, keep it running. It’s time.”

Idia walks over to his station as he instructs some of the staff members.

“Vil Schoenheit, are you ready?” Ortho’s voice was softer this time.

“Yes. Is there anything I have to do before I enter the machine?” He asks as he looks over at the Trackback. It was a pod-like machine that was fit for only one person.

“Aside from the previous trials we’ve done, there’s nothing else. Have you said goodbye to Yuu yet?”

Vil’s face softens slightly at the sound of her name, “Yes… I have. Please take care of her for me.”

“Don’t worry, you can count on us!” Ortho exclaims.

Vil nods solemnly before letting the humanoid boy lead him towards the Trackback.

“We’ll be monitoring your vitals, so make sure to stay calm. You have to be in good condition for this to work since we can’t risk you getting hurt,” Ortho explains.

Although the interior was comfortable, Vil feels like he is being laid into a cold coffin.

“Don’t worry, Vil…“

Ortho’s face was the only thing Vil could see through the pod’s window.

“You’ll see her again soon. It won’t be the same, but… I’m sure it will be better next time.”

Vil knew better than to hope for good things. To him, it was better to work towards it rather than relying on luck to get there. However…

Ortho returns to his brother’s side.

“All systems are operational. Time displacement parameters set for 9 years into the past. September of 20XX.“

…this time, he really wished all his hard work would pay off.

The Trackback hums to life. Vil feels the soft vibrations reverberating through his body.

“Coordinates locked to Night Raven College, the morning of the Xth Entrance Ceremony.”

“Thanks Ortho. Give me a full system diagnostic before activation.”

“Initiation system diagnostic… Energy levels stable. Temporal field generators at full capacity. Quantum tether is synchronized with present time. All safety protocols are active.”

“And the displacement window? We need that at 100%.”

Vil knows full well that she wasn’t going to wake up any time soon. All he could do now is to continue to forge ahead. He has to be strong enough to fulfill this mission, to achieve a better future…

“Displacement window integrity is at 98.7%. An acceptable margin for human travel. Estimated arrival time: 15 seconds after activation.”

“15 seconds? We calculated 10 seconds in the earlier trials.”

“This discrepancy is due to the minor fluctuations in the temporal field density. No risk of deviation outside acceptable limits.”

Idia sighs, “Alright, this is as good as it gets. Everyone get ready. Ortho, initiate the countdown.”

���For him. For her. For their child… And for all the people who had been affected by the catastrophe…

“Affirmative. Beginning countdown: 10….9….8….”

The air in the room starts to ripple, and the lights dim as the machine hums louder.

Vil thinks back to the woman on the bed. He feels his wedding ring with his thumb. He had her initials carved into them, and his on her ring.

Something beeps in the background. A technician’s muffled voice reaches Vil’s ears.

“We’re getting some interference on the energy output.”

“Ortho, can you stabilize it?” Idia asks.

“Interference detected, compensating… field stabilized.”

He wants to see her paint again, he wants to tell her how much he loves her…

“7…6…5…” 

He wants to hold her in his arms...

“4…3…”

Even if he has to go through everything again, Vil was sure of one thing…

“…2…1…”

He wants to be with her. Forever.

“Time travel initiation. Displacement commencing.”

They will never be apart ever again.

[buttdumplin]

For my dear sweet 🌙 anon, who asked for a piece in which transmasc reader clarifies his pronouns with the boys.

cw: poly!141 x transmasc!reader, established relationship, complex gender feelings, comfort

word count: 1070

It’s in the kitchen that you gather the courage, “Can we try something?”

Four heads turn to you, sandwich assembly line quickly forgotten. Maybe this wasn’t the best moment to speak up, your tummy is grumbling already. But you’ve started, so you should see it through. 

“Good god, keep your pants on. This is serious,” you say, voice growing quiet, “And about me.”

The boys swarm around you, eyes burning and ready. Sitting at the table was supposed to let you watch them as they work on lunch, but their looming turns it almost ominous. The sounds of you cracking your fingers, which you tend to do when you’re nervous, does not go unnoticed. 

Johnny chuckles, trying to keep the mood light, “Maybe shoulda phrased it a little differently, love.”

It took you forever to find the right dining table, one big enough to fit all of you and your plates. Days and weeks turned months as you scoured for the perfect one. But as they take their seats, it feels too small. The air is tight. 

“Do you guys remember that talk we had? About gender and me maybe not feeling wholly like a woman?”

They lean towards you, further dwarfing the table, waiting for you to continue. Your belly feels like it’s boiling, tumbling with nerves. That conversation went well, so surely this one will too, right?  If you take the time to look up at them, you’ll see their soft expressions. Simon hunches, blatantly trying to make himself smaller, as if wanting to create space for you to speak. Kind grins adorn Johnny and Kyle’s faces, remembering the conversation well and trying to be encouraging. John just looks proud. Silence breaks as you take a deep breath.

“I think I’m a guy,” you whisper. 

Smiles spread, bodies still, waiting for more. 

“I’m a guy,” you say louder, their grins coaxing yours out.

Kyle takes your hand in his, squeezing gently, “Watch out lads, I’ve got a boyfriend.”

What starts as a giggle soon overwhelms you, turning into a deep belly laugh and running tears down your cheeks. You cling hard to Kyle’s hand, wiping your face a little sloppy. It’s your first time saying it out loud, and there’s no way you could have predicted how fucking euphoric it would be. A spark’s been lit inside your chest, and you think that this must be what true happiness is. It feels so right, and Kyle’s immediate claim fuels you. Another deep sigh steadies you. The hard part is not quite over.

“I hope this doesn’t…” the words come out slowly, “Doesn’t change anything.” Your hand moves in a wide circle, gesturing at each of you.

Their bodies stiffen, caught off guard. Of everything you could have said, that was not what they expected. Worry melts their posture and brings their shoulders down to droop. John and Kyle exchange glances, failure written on their faces. If they’ve left room for this concern, they’ve clearly done something wrong. Johnny cocks his head, confused because why would that be a question? 

When Simon speaks, he almost sounds exasperated, “We’re all men.”

“Yeah, but-”

“All men,” he cuts you off, eyes locked on yours, challenging you to try again. “Boyfriends, like Kyle said.”

“Boyfriends,” you repeat, grin back in place. 

“Get to confuse the cashier at the grocery even more now,” he winks, relieved to see you smiling again. 

A calm silence settles the room again and easy breathing can be heard from all of you. The sinking pressure is lifted from you, letting you bask in the moment. Everything is okay. Your world didn’t crumble. Boyfriends, they said. Sweat threatens to slip your hand from Kyles, making his grip tighten. The pride on John’s face is loud, his dimples growing more pronounced. Johnny drops his chin into his hands, elbows on the table, an impishness about him.

“Logistics,” he says, “Pronouns, please?”

“He/him,” your voice shy.

He cups his ear, “What? Didn’t catch that.”

“He/him,” you say, fullbodied.

Under the table, he squeezes your knee with support. If you weren’t sitting, you’d be squeezing the life outta them, cracking their backs with the force of your hugs. They didn’t even fucking take a beat to respond, they were so immediately onboard. Darling boys continue to bring warmth into your life, erasing your doubts. Though truthfully, it was the possibility of losing them that you were most scared about.

“Terms?” John asks. 

You hesitate to respond, not having gotten quite this far just yet.

“Sweet boy?” he prompts.

Hearing it makes you gasp, your eyes widening and face burning. It hits sweet in your chest and the pleasure of it is visible. It’s the only confirmation John needs. Easing back into his chair, he crosses his arm with sweet satisfaction. The rest of the boys smirk, taking note, minds filling with more ideas.

Kyle has to clear his throat, and thoughts, before he speaks again, “Who do you want to include in this? How do you want to navigate it?”

“I’ve already told my doctors and it’s in my file,” you say proudly, and Johnny answers with excited whooping.

“He/him pronouns in public?” Kyle continues.

“Yes, please,” you eye your guard dogs. The four of them beam, chests swelling from knowing you have so much faith in their abilities to protect you, to keep you safe. 

“Please tell us if there’s ever a situation in which you don’t feel safe doing so. We play by your word,” he swears.

You nod in response, his words spreading a new and lovely warmth through your body. They must have done some homework after that initial conversation, always wanting to be prepared. And it couldn’t be more fucking soothing. Air returns to the room, bringing in levity once more.

“Lovely lads all around,” Johnny looks at each of you, wicked joy painting his face, “What a lucky bastard I am.”

His toothy smile is infectious, catching the rest of you until your faces hurt from mirth. Of course they were amazing with this, they’ve put so much work into maintaining this relationship. All those late nights working through clarifications, the probing answers and check-ins. And they’re doing the same thing now, meeting you head on. And eager to boot. Sweet boys stay sweet. 

“Well,” you say, giggles bubbling from your lips, “Your boyfriend is hungry, so yall best get lunch done.”

[thursdayinspace]

I love the Millennium kiss for the way it is so gentle and happy and calm. There is no urgency behind it, it’s not a revelation, it’s not suddenly being hit with bottled-up feelings.

He looks at her and he loves her, utterly and completely. He doesn’t see the point of putting any walls up in this moment. He lets himself feel it because . . . because it’s what he’s feeling. There’s no “Oh god, I have to kiss her.” It’s: consequences be damned, this is the woman he loves and she’s right there next to him and his heart no longer sees the point of not doing this.

And she welcomes it so easily. There is barely a moment of surprise on her face. She’s ready. This is what they have always been to each other and there is no hesitation, no moment of “Okay, so this is happening now.” It just is. She has loved him for so long and in her heart she already knows that there’s no use denying it. If he leans in for a kiss, then yes, she’s going to kiss him back.

I love the way this kiss is done – the way all the sounds of the new year’s celebration fade into the background and the camera narrows the world down to only them, like nothing else exists. It captures the gentle energy of the moment so nicely. Because what has prevented them from doing this has always mostly been external factors, private and professional, but not emotional. But there are none here. They’re literally being faded out. It’s just them. It’s honestly perfectly done. Including the acting; you see them giving in to the moment, and I especially love the change of her smile after the kiss, going from “wow, this really happened,” to “did this really just happen?” It’s art. Everything about it.

This moment is not about being in love, it’s about loving each other. There is a difference. There is none of the fluttery excitement about being in love, the elation of it, the fantasy of what could be, the need, the straining towards each other. This is not their hearts jumping in their chests, their breaths hitching, their palms tingling with the need to reach out. This is quiet and soft. They already know. This is not “I need you like I need air,” this is not “I think of you every second of every day and miss you like crazy when I don’t see you for more than an hour.” This is “Did you know that I love you? Because I do.” This is “Nothing feels more right than being here with you right now.” This is exactly what they say to each other after the kiss: “The world didn’t end.” “No, it didn’t.”

It is not a storm. It’s the atmosphere of a gentle summer evening, nowhere to be but with each other. Life goes on, and it still will if they allow themselves to kiss, to admit that this is what they’ve wanted all along. Maybe, in a way, it is a revelation after all. It’s realizing that there’s no point in pretending.

They are truly happy in this moment. There is no doubt, there is no question about anything. This is who they are. This is pure and unfaltering love. Quiet, calm; the only motivation being that they want to. And that is what makes it so good: the only reason for it being “I can’t not tell you that this is the way I love you.” Of all their kisses, this is the happiest one. Their walls are down, and the world didn’t end.

[sp0-t]

Preview of some upcoming stories?!! (sort of rambles)

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

You and Simon used to date, it was a while ago, 5 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days ago to be exact. You never kept count, you wanted to forget everything. It was Simon that kept count, every second, every minute, every hour. He was there keeping track. You moved on, you had a whole new life at this point, new job, new house, new car, even a new partner. You wanted nothing to do with that old life that old place, that old job still haunting you some nights. But that was all behind you, long ago, no reason to dwell on it, you have a new life a new start that not many got. Your old life was behind you forgotten, like a bad dream.

Except this dream came back to haunt you, physically, in the present. In the physical form of Simon “Ghost” Riley. He was the reason you couldn’t sleep at night, the reason you needed a new life in the first place, needed to run away from the past.

Him

HIM

The last person that deserved to come back into your life was here. And he is persistent per usual, no matter what you do, or what you say to him, he was not going to budge he’d stay stolid and still and he’d be that way for the rest of time if he had to.

He’d wait…

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

Gaz and you are two of the biggest names in the modeling world. You can’t talk about it without either name popping up. What makes it even more of popular topic, is the rumor of a certain type of relationship between you two. However these aren’t true they can’t be, at least not yet…

You are in a contract with one of if not the biggest modeling agency in the world, you being their top model, however, you have a very close runner up. They’ve been gaining more and more attraction every year, placing them higher and higher in the rankings. Social media isn’t helping in this case, it’s the very thing that gained them their popularity in the first place. One post about their new male model and the internet goes fucking batshit.

“Who is he?”

“I need him!”

“He’s so fine, omg!”

“The things I would do…”

Well, who is this mystery man, no other than Kyle Garrick. He normally goes by his stage nickname “Gaz”. No one knows where it comes from, but then again no one really cares enough.

However this year both your agency’s are competing for first, both agencies have to put out their best models in a runway show, a panel will then decide who the best is. But then why do people suspect a relationship between the two. A simple cigarette, that was it, a cigarette. Paparazzi can be some nosey individuals, it was after a clothes fitting, both agencies were required to have it done by the same tailor company to remove any bias, and no changes could be made to outfits by this point. It was late out probably 11pm, about to be 12. I guess paparazzi doesn’t sleep, you went out for a cigarette or two. About to light your second you hear the door open behind you.

“Mind if I join you?”

Of course it was him, why wouldn’t it be Gaz

“Do as you please.”

Your voice comes out a bit muffled from the cigarette between your lips. You try and light your cigarette again, you spark the lighter multiple times no flames ever coming to light. You get more and more frustrated the longer it takes to see flames. You bring the thing up to your ear and shake to hear if there’s any liquid, it’s empty. In frustration you throw the lighter against a nearby wall.

“Fucking piece of shit.”

Still muffled from the unlit cigarette you sigh out in frustration and defeat, leaning against the wall behind you. You run your hand through your hair as your about to push off the wall to walk back inside the building, when a flame is placed in front of you.

“Need a light?”

You look up at him a bit confused

“Yeah. Thanks.”

SNAP* SNAP* SNAP* The image of Gaz leaning over slightly cupping the flame to prevent the wind from blowing it out, while you tilt your head a bit up to get your cigarette to reach the flame while Gaz looks down at you. That’s what was going viral, the image, the circulating stories and rumors going around. Both of your names were everywhere, one couldn’t be without the other in the media.

All over a damn cig

💿: I only have two for you today, these are just quick summaries. I’m sorry these are on like “cliff hangers”, I really wanted you guys to make your own assumptions and theories. I do want to start writing an actual full on story for one of the quick ideas I’ve wrote(author!price, PoliceForce!141, and these new ones). I’ll most likely put up a poll for people to vote on which one I’ll write first, so definitely stay around for that if you’re interested!!

(sorry the Simon one is so short but if I added more it would be like double this whole page)

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

—

“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[kikyoupdates]

Leave Your Mark ⭑˚🧪⭑ 𝑛𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑠

bnha x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn

You didn’t accomplish anything in your previous life. Looking back on it, you feel nothing but regret, and you yearn for the chance to do things differently. As it turns out, your wish is answered, and you are reborn into your favorite fictional world. This time, you resolve to make a change, and you have the means to do it. You won’t be content with just sitting on the sidelines and letting life pass you by. You will live boldly and vibrantly, as if every moment is your last. No matter what it takes, you are going to leave your mark.

story masterlist | next

Death has a tendency to sneak up on people when they least expect it.

In your case, it happens when you are only sixteen years old, riding the bus on the way back from school. You’re scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, earbuds pushed in so deep that they block out all the noise in the background. The music on your playlist is blasting at full-force, perhaps too loudly, but you prefer it this way. You prefer to be able to focus on your own thoughts.

Your eyes close, and you allow your mind to drift off. You pretend that you’re inside your room, protected by the four walls you’ve come to cherish and rely on. It’s easier to be alone. It’s what you’re used to, what comes naturally to you, and in all your years of living, you’ve never once thought to venture outside of your comfort zone.

When a car suddenly skids from the oncoming traffic lane and crashes into the bus, you are forced to rethink your life choices.

The bus lurches from the impact. You can feel your body being flung out of the seat, and you swear it doesn’t make sense, because everything is happening too fast. Your body doesn’t feel as if it’s your own. It’s as if it’s weightless, and there’s a pit in your stomach that wasn’t there just a moment ago.

You can’t really make sense of how everything unfolds. All you know is that you’re lying on the floor of the bus, and your earbuds have fallen out, despite your best efforts to bury them snug. Your eyes are wide, disbelieving, as you stare ahead at the countless other civilians that have been caught up in the crash. From what you can tell, some of them are gravely injured. Others are lucky enough to have gotten away with some bruising and a bump on their head.

That’s the most you can piece together, because your vision is slowly fading. The side of your head feels awfully slick for some reason. You don’t really understand why, not until one of the injured kids on the bus points to you and starts wailing.

Ah.

Your skull has been cracked open, and you’re about to die.

Someone rushes towards you. They look like they’ve sprained their wrist, but otherwise, they’re in relatively good shape. You can only watch, unable to move or muster up a sound, as they pull out a napkin and use it to try and put pressure on your wound.

Based on how quickly everything is turning dark, you can tell that it’s a futile effort.

I’m dying. I’m really dying.

You’re afraid. Of course you are. Is there anyone who doesn’t fear death? Not that it makes any difference. Once death has set its sights on someone, it’s impossible to escape.

There’s another emotion weighing you down though, and compared to fear, you would argue that it’s much more overwhelming.

Regret. More than anything else, you feel regret. What did you spend these last sixteen years doing? You hardly have anyone you can call a friend, you put little effort into maintaining a good relationship with your family, and you’ve never accomplished or done anything that you can feel genuinely proud of.

You’ve wasted your entire life, and it’s too late to do a damn thing about it.

“It’s going to be okay,” the person tending to you mumbles. They press down on your head, trying to staunch the wound, but you know it’s a lost cause.

You are going to die here, and no matter how desperately you try to make peace with that fact, you just can't.

If only you could get another chance at life. You wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice. You promise yourself that you’ll appreciate every moment, reach out to others and share whatever emotions they’re feeling. Anger, joy, apprehension—it doesn’t matter. The point is that you’ll do better. You’ll be better. You won’t isolate yourself or waste away the precious moments of your life.

All you need is another opportunity. Please?

Right. As if that would happen.

Your breathing grows shallower, weaker, and you can just vaguely hear the nice civilian crying out to you in desperation. Eventually, even the sound fades. It’s getting terribly and unspeakably dark. Fuck. You’re afraid. You’re so afraid.

But even as you’re about to cross over to the other side, your belief holds firm.

Nothing is worse than having regrets.

The darkness, which you presumed to be vast and endless, eventually clears.

Suddenly, you can hear again, but the sound is so loud and ear-grating that you almost wish you couldn’t.

“What’s wrong with her?” a woman sighs tiredly. “She’s been crying nonstop.”

There are two people in the room. One of them is the woman, who just spoke up, and the other is a man, a doctor, by the looks of things.

Oh, actually, scratch that. There are three people in the room, because some baby is wailing out at the top of their lungs.

Is this a dream?

You died, and you know that for a fact, so you assume you must be watching some random scene play out. But even if that’s the case, something is... strange. You’re not quite sure how to explain it, but there’s this overwhelming sense of discomfort that’s tearing through your whole body.

“She is perfectly healthy,” the doctor reassures. He must be referring to the baby. He takes a moment to adjust his glasses, then frowns. “Have you reconsidered, by any chance?”

“No,” the woman replies. She says it bluntly; coldly, even. “I already told you this before. I’m not keeping her. I just wanted to make sure she was healthy, but that’s it. As soon as I’m feeling better, I’m going to leave. One of the nurses will take her away, right?”

“Yes, miss. Of course. We just wanted to give you one last chance to rethink your decision.”

“I’m not keeping her,” she says again, and she bites down on her lip to keep from trembling. You’re not sure why you’re seeing such a heavy scene play out, but you suppose it’s better than being trapped in a void for all eternity. You’re thankful to have retained your sentience.

Up until this moment, you are convinced that you’re dead.

But when the woman moves closer, and she reaches a hand out, it finally clicks.

“Bye-bye, baby,” she whispers. You can feel her hand squeezing down on yours. The sensation of being touched is painfully familiar, and you know you’re not imagining it.

This woman is your mother, and she’s in the process of giving you away.

Just like that, the crying stops. It stops because you realize you’re the baby, and it means that your dying wish has been answered.

One way or another, you’ve been reborn.

“Ah,” the doctor hums. He cracks a smile and gently pokes your chubby cheek. “Are you happy that your mommy touched you? You must be, since you’ve finally stopped crying. She has to leave, but don’t worry. We’ll find you a new family soon. I’m sure you’ll love them, whoever they are.”

You blink up at him, not making a sound. It’s hard to believe that you’re actually alive again, and while the body of an infant doesn’t allow for much freedom, in the grand scheme of things, it’s a trifling matter.

You just want to live.

“Get some rest, little one,” the doctor encourages. Of course, he can’t possibly know that you actually understand him, but since there’s not much else you can do in your present state, you close your eyes and try to drift off to sleep.

Some time passes, and unlike what the doctor promised, you have yet to find a loving home.

It turns out that adoption is a rather tricky process, and it takes a while just to find suitable parental candidates. You appreciate that there is a lot of planning and contemplation that goes into this, because children shouldn’t just be handed off without a second thought. They need to be diligently cared for, looked after and appreciated.

You realize just how true this line of reasoning holds when you are finally introduced to your ‘forever family’, as the doctor puts it.

“You’re going to love them,” he grins. “They’re so excited to have you!”

For a moment, you wonder if he means that, or if he’s the one who’s excited to finally get rid of you and free up a bed for another soon-to-be baby. There isn’t really any way to know for sure, and if your infantile body allowed for it, you would probably shrug as a show of your indifference.

Anyways, you finally have a home now, and you suppose that has to count for something.

It doesn’t take long for you to wish you were back in the hospital.

“She keeps crying,” the mother whines, almost as if she’s the child, not you.

“Well, no shit,” the father cuts back impatiently. “It’s because you’re always forgetting to feed her on time. You told me you were ready for this. You told me you wanted a kid, so it’s too late to start pulling these stunts.”

“I’m just so tired. I really don’t know if I can do this...”

Fucking hell. What does a baby have to do around here to get a goddamn bottle of milk?

They aren’t good parents. That much is abundantly clear. You wish they would’ve sorted out these matters ahead of time, but some people find out the hard way that they just aren’t ready to take care of a child.

Nonetheless, they make an effort to improve. They try to rise to the occasion and shoulder this huge responsibility they’ve decided to take on.

During the time you spend living under their roof, you come face-to-face with a dizzying realization.

It happens so fast that, at first, you swear you’re just imagining things. Your adoptive mother is vacuuming around the house, when suddenly, a stray object falls under the couch. She lets out her usual trademark sigh, then adjusts her stance as if she’s about to crouch down and retrieve it.

As it turns out, she doesn’t need to crouch, because her arm extends—as if it’s elastic—and she picks up the object with ease.

The pacifier in your mouth instantly falls out.

What... the fuck?

You wonder if your tiny baby eyes are deceiving you, or if this is some sort of side effect of being reincarnated. How else would you explain what you’ve just seen? It’s freaking absurd. People’s arms don’t just do that.

Since you’re incapable of communicating normally, you just cry. Your adoptive mother seems to become increasingly irritable whenever you cry for long periods of time, but there’s not much you can do to help it, especially when you’re so confused.

“Hush now, [Name],” she demands, and to your horror, stretches her arm out again so that she can reach over to you and place the pacifier back in your mouth.

Then she carries on with her vacuuming, as if nothing ever happened.

To no one’s surprise, you keep crying, and it continues this way until you overhear a conversation between the two of them during dinner.

“She hates it whenever I use my Quirk,” your mother scowls. “I feel like she’s judging me every single time. Is it possible for babies to be so judgy?”

Hold up. What the hell did she just say?

“You must be imagining it,” your father sighs. Both of them sure like to sigh a lot. You hate to admit it, but they don’t seem particularly happy with their lives. “She’s just a baby. She doesn’t even know what’s going on around her, let alone how Quirks work.”

They keep on using that word, and your chest feels tight when you remember exactly where you’ve heard it before.

But that can’t be. My Hero Academia is a fictional world. Superheroes, Quirks... none of that is real.

Yet here you are, living and breathing, proof that all of this is actually happening to you.

Even so... it’s just too far-fetched. You can’t possibly have been reborn into a world that doesn’t really exist. No matter how much manga and anime you’ve consumed, it still doesn’t make this situation any more plausible.

You need evidence. Real, concrete evidence. Until then, you refuse to draw any conclusions.

A week later, you catch your parents watching an interview of All Might on TV.

...well, shit.

Shortly after your second birthday, your parents put you up for adoption again.

You wonder if something must be wrong with you, because no one seems to want to have you as their kid. It’s getting a bit hard not to take personally.

The worst part of it is that they didn’t even bother to put you up for adoption somewhere nice. You’re convinced that they chose the shittiest orphanage that ever existed, just as one last middle finger for all the stress and trouble you’ve caused them.

You are two years old now, you are almost certainly living in the world of My Hero Academia, and you’re an orphan. Admittedly, it's a lot to handle.

Even so, you manage. For obvious reasons, you’re a lot smarter than you look. Your body limits a lot of what you can do, so you choose to keep your brain engaged mostly by reading books and solving puzzles.

“That girl’s always going through those books,” one of the caregiver mumbles to her colleague. “Do you think she really understands what’s going on?”

“No way,” the other waves off. “She must just like looking at the pictures.”

“But that book doesn’t have any pictures.”

“She’s two years old. Of course she can’t read. Nothing that complicated, at least. Don’t be silly.”

They eventually shrug and decide that they must be overthinking things, and you carry on reading your book—yes, actually reading it.

It’s another normal, mundane day, until suddenly, everything changes.

“We have someone new staying with us starting from today,” the head caregiver proudly announces. He gestures beside him, where a boy is standing with his arms wrapped around his body. He is consciously keeping a good distance between him and the other kids, as well as the caregiver, and you swear you spot a grimace on his lips.

For some reason... he looks really familiar.

“Go on,” the caregiver encourages. “Introduce yourself to the others.”

You hear him mutter something under his breath, although you don’t quite catch it, and then he sighs before briefly glancing your way.

“Chisaki Kai,” he says, and in that moment, your heart stops. “But stay away from me,” he adds, grimacing yet again. “I don’t like it when people get too close.”

Chisaki Kai.

You know this kid. Well, he’s only a kid now, but you’re abundantly aware of what he’ll become, and the horrible things he’ll go on to do.

At this point, you can’t keep making excuses anymore. You’re living in the world of My Hero Academia, and it’s as simple as that.

Chisaki walks away before the caregiver can say anything else. He sits down in the corner of the room, all by himself, keeping his golden eyes narrowed so that nobody thinks of getting too close to him. He’s several years older than you, so that puts him at about maybe eight or nine? The details don’t really matter, though.

What matters is that for the first time, you’ve met a character that plays a hand in how the story will unfold.

You remember your dying wish. You wanted to have a second chance at life, to prove that you can make something of it, rather than letting each day pass you by. You decided long ago that regardless of when you die, or how you die, you want to be able to say that you’ve lived a full life. You want to know that your actions have impacted others, impacted the world.

And now you’ve just realized that your actions carry a lot more weight than you first thought.

You know how this story goes. Well, not all of it, because you died before it came to an end, but you have knowledge in spades, and who’s to say that you can’t use that knowledge to create a permanent, positive shift?

Chisaki is still gritting his teeth, staying far away from everyone else. Seeing him like this, knowing that he’s just an orphan like you, makes it difficult to fear or resent him. He’s frail and vulnerable, and even if he won’t admit it, he needs to be protected, just like any other kid would.

You are going to live. You are going to live boldly and vibrantly, knowing that the choices you make can shape others’ lives. You’re done spending your days as a recluse and wasting away. You don’t want things to end like they did in your last life, where even in death, nobody knew who you were or what you’d done.

Here, your potential is limitless, and you’ll be damned if you take it for granted.

And so, you stand up. On shaky toddler legs, but you stand up nonetheless. Your steps are slow, deliberate, and even though it takes a while, you eventually stop in front of Chisaki.

He glares at you. “What do you want?”

You know exactly what you want, and it’s to leave your mark on this world, so that you’ll never be forgotten. You want to be someone who can move and inspire others. You want to become the kind of person you can take pride in.

You’ve been given a new chance at life, and it’s in a world you’re familiar with, of all things. This is the best deal you’ll ever get.

It takes you a while to form your words, so you return Chisaki’s stare with one of your own. He’s still so young, but he already resents the world. He feels like an outsider, like someone who doesn’t belong. Because of that, he will eventually spin out of control. He will resort to drastic means to manipulate the world around him—to make it make sense.

If left unchecked, he will certainly become a villain. But what if, all these years, he had someone by his side to steer him on the right path? What if he found solace some other way, instead of twisting society in the palm of his hand?

You don’t know the answer to that question, but you think you’d like to find out.

“I’m here for you.”

Those are the words you decide on, and despite how childish your two-year-old voice sounds, there’s a maturity to it that Chisaki can’t seem to comprehend.

He looks at you in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. I just wanted to tell you that, no matter what happens... it’s going to be okay. Because I’ll be here to help.”

You grin widely, unintentionally revealing several missing teeth. Chisaki looks disgusted at first, and he even shrinks away, but against all odds, he still hasn’t told you to get lost.

The two of you just stare at each other in silence for a while. He must think you’re a bit strange, especially for a two-year-old, but you can’t help but be mesmerized by the fact that he’s actually in front of you right now.

Eventually, his patience runs thin.

“Go away,” he mutters, then outright shoos you. “Dirty little kid. Mind your own business.”

You don’t take any offense at his words. You realize it’ll take a while to get closer to him, and knowing what you do about his character, there are a lot of obstacles standing in your way.

But it’s fine. If maybe, just maybe, you can prevent him from becoming a villain... if your actions help someone, in some way...

You’ll be happier than you can put into words.

“Okie-dokie,” you smile, then turn to leave, mindful of giving him space.

You must have forgotten, because mentally, your brain is still your own, but your body has become that of a child.

Needless to say, you fall over while trying to walk away.

“Ouch!” you whine, rubbing at your tender toddler body. Everything hurts. Little kids are so goddamn fragile. You suppose you’ll have to be more careful from now on.

It takes a few seconds, but you manage to pick yourself up, smile proudly at the feat, then retreat back to your side of the room and carry on reading your book.

The whole time, Chisaki stares at you, unblinking. He already thinks you’re incredibly strange.

It’s a clumsy start, but it’s a start nonetheless.

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[borealalice]

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

[delayed-affection]

if u feel comfortable writing about it could you maybe write and imagine about joe burrow and him being their for his girlfriend whiles she’s struggling with a depressive episode thank u in advance 🤍

Help

Oneshots Navigation

Joe Burrow x reader

Warnings: depression

Word count: 1.1k

It comes in waves, one day you’re fine and happy but the next you want nothing more than to just be gone.

You’ve done everything that they’ve said to do; you’ve gone to therapy, taken the pills they’ve prescribed you, tried to get back into the things you’ve loved before but nothing has worked.

You’ve managed to live life without breaking down in front of everyone, in front of Joe.

He knows about your struggles with your mental health but there’s only so much that he can do for something he can’t control and knows so little about.

He’s seen the days where you struggle to get up and do the simple things in life and it kills him to see you like that. He just doesn’t know what to do when it gets like that.

And today was one of those days, you managed to pull yourself out of bed and to work but it was the hardest thing to do.

All you wanted to do was go home and rot away, hoping that tomorrow will be better, that you won’t have to bully and force yourself out of bed.

But it wasn’t, it was worse.

You woke up today feeling like absolute shit. A wave of fatigue and exhaustion hit upon waking, washing over you like a cold and heavy blanket as your eyes open.

The mere thought of getting out of bed is almost too much to bare right now, every muscle in your body feeling like a lead weight.

There's no motivation here, just a deep-rooted desire to fall back asleep and go back to the peace and comfort of dreams.

You wrap yourself up in the blanket lying in bed, the room is pitch black with the only light coming from your phone that lights up every once in a while with a notification.

You haven’t gotten up since you opened your eyes, however they weren’t open for long. You force yourself back to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be in an unconscious state.

You wake up a couple hours later and feel way worse.

You felt completely lethargic and mentally wiped, and you couldn't think of anything that could stir them out of this state.

Feeling like a zombie, just going through the motions and barely functioning at a most basic level. You felt like you were just existing, not truly living. Everything seemed pointless, and you couldn't find the energy or desire to do anything at all.

You begrudgingly sit up, trying to fight off the feeling that's been weighing you down. You don't have the energy to do much else but try to cope with your feelings.

You sit there on your bed, feeling overwhelmed by the sense of hopelessness that has consumed you. It feels like nothing will change and you’re just waiting around for things to magically get better.

You find yourself spiraling deeper and deeper into a dark hole of despair and there seems to be no way out.

You lie back down with a huff, feeling completely defeated. Wishing it would just go away and you could finally be happy.

But it doesn't look like that's going to happen any time soon. Closing your eyes and you try to block out the world, hoping that maybe things will be different.

You know deep down that nothing will change. You are stuck in this state and have no idea how to escape it. You just feel hopeless and resigned to your fate.

You can hear the front door open and close, Joe is home. Laying there silently, you listen to the sound of his footsteps coming closer to the room.

You feel anxious and nervous, unsure of how you should act when he walks in. Should you just keep pretending like you’re asleep, but you also know that you need to face him.

You’re afraid that he'll be angry or disappointed with your lack of motivation to do anything.

The bedroom door opens, and Joe walks in cautiously. He can tell by your breath and movement that you’re awake, but he decides to act as if he doesn't know that and gently sits down next to you on the bed.

He doesn't say anything at first, just gives you a comforting pat on the shoulder letting you know that he's here. He knows that it can be difficult to communicate when you’re in this state, but he wants to let you know that he cares and supports you.

You feel your heart melt a bit at his gesture and you can't help but lean into him slightly, seeking comfort from his closeness. Feeling slightly embarrassed and guilty for not having the energy to do much lately.

You can’t help but feel like you’re letting him down by not being more productive or active. You’re glad he's understanding and patient, but you feel like you’re being a burden on him and that you should try harder.

Hearing you start to cry, he immediately holds you close. He lets you cry without trying to stop the tears or make you feel bad about them. He just holds you gently, letting you let it all out and offering a strong and secure presence.

He reassures you that it's okay to cry, and he just wants you to feel better. He's there for you and he's not going anywhere, no matter how bad things get.

He wants you to know that you’re not alone, and he's there to support and love you no matter what.

He continues to hold you until the crying subsides, feeling you calming down as he does so. Once your tears have stopped, he pulls you close again and strokes your hair lovingly.

He wants to make you feel better, and he knows that sometimes you just need physical reassurance and comfort to feel more at ease. He just wants to be there for you and make you feel like everything will be okay.

You begin to relax in his arms and feel a bit better.

"Everything's going to be okay, baby, I'm here for you." He whispers placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You sigh as you lean into him, letting your mind go blank.

He continues to whisper to you, "I love you and I'll always be by your side, no matter what."

He keeps whispering these words of encouragement and love, and you can feel your spirits starting to lift.

It feels good to have his comforting presence so close to you, and you feel supported and reassured by his kindness. He continues to hold you close as you breathes out a deep breath and relax.

You feel safe and supported by his love, and your stress and anxiety slowly begins to fade away.

You start to feel better, way better than you did before, and you’re grateful that you has someone so understanding and supportive like him.

[xiakato]

Interview with the Director(M)- NINGNING

“Took you long enough to get here,” The woman takes a sip from her glass, her office overlooking a beautiful mountain range in the valleys of Switzerland. 

“Giselle doesn’t like giving me the answers I want,” You sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. 

“She’s always been one to beat around the bush.” 

“Rather annoying, I had to fuck it out of her,” You sigh placing the audio recorder onto her desk. 

“Well if the stories I’ve heard about you are true, I can’t blame her,” The woman’s smile is captivating. Of course the low light that these women seem to rejoice in, added to the atmosphere nearly as much as their beauty. 

“You could see later, first and foremost it’s an interview my dear Ning Yizhuo.” 

“You’ve certainly done your research, even knowing that name I’ve long since forsaken.” 

“It was difficult, you’ve nearly scrubbed every record of your name besides one of course.” 

“My death certificate?” 

“Yes, why? Why go through all that trouble for everything else but leave that?” 

“Because Ning Yizhuo is dead to the world and anyone that may fall about the story of the Ning family, the family that was found dead in their home.” 

“Tell me about your family,” You pull out your journal, filled with the notes from the previous two interviews. The stories these girls hold you feel that they need to be heard. 

“Run of the mill family, I feel, well as run of the mill we could be for 1740,” She leans back in her luxurious chair, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows. The snow falling to the ground as if it’s a missing piece of a larger than life puzzle, “There were whispers, that my family was plotting to betray the Emperor, yet my family still tried and true. My father was a devoted man, my mother could care less, her only care was the children. Till a night such as this one,” she nods her head at the beautiful snowy night and the surrounding alps, “It was a cold night, the fire burned brightly. They descended about our house, blood lined the walls. The blood of the maids spilt in their living quarters sullied their footsteps. They dragged us out of our beds. The terror that encased my body, the tears that stained my cheeks. The cries of my family that fateful night fell on deaf ears as we were slaughtered one by one,” She pauses as a tear falls down her cheek, remembering that painful night of which changed her life, it haunts her, even now, tormenting her in her dreams, “I was left bleeding out on the floor, my vision slowly fading and that’s when I saw her. Skin was white as the snow that fell around her.”

“Is that how she got her nickname?” 

“You seem to know who it is already so yes that’s how she did get that name, Winter.” 

“What of Karina’s brother?” 

“Oh Sunwoo, a cutie, very diligent. He’s long since gone on to work for an unsavory group of vampires. One's hope is to turn the tide of the elders, hoping to get their hands onto power that is yet out of their grasp.” 

“What is this group?” 

She gets out of her chair, “Follow me,” You grab the recorder and follow, “The group is nothing less than a meager thorn in the side of the ones aligned with the elders. They wish to garner enough power and people that could use the power of elders, ones that aren’t an elder themselves. Much like you.” 

“What would they want me for?” 

“They seem to have found a way to extract the power of the hosts, killing them obviously. I heard recently that they’ve been rather busy. I could only assume they’re looking for you,” She opens the door to her bedroom, a lavish room decorated with black and red satin. 

“I see, well enough of them, how did you come to be in charge of this place?” 

“Elder Marius took a particular liking to me, he is long since dead. Watched him turn to ash.” 

“Thanks for your time Miss Ning,” You bow slightly to her and stop the recorder, turning on your heels to leave. 

“Where do you think you’re going manthing?” Her words stop in your tracks, “You seem to think you can just leave without giving me my payment.” 

“What sort of payment do you think you’re going to get?” You turn to look at her, your eyes falling to her perfect legs crossed as she sits on the edge of her bed. 

“The only thing of use that you can give, so strip,” She commanded, her eyes glowing under the light from the fireplace. You were hoping to avoid this as you didn’t want to fuck everyone you interviewed yet her you are pulling your trousers down. She gestures for you to get closer, you do without a second thought. Her soft and slender hand wraps around your cock, shivers run down your spine as you feel how cold she is despite being near a fire. She smirks to herself, “I see why Giselle decided to keep you around.” 

“She keeps more around for more than just my dick,” You tell her as you make her lay on the bed, hiking up her skirt making short work of her panties. 

“Rather confident about it, you should know by now anything that comes out of her mouth you can’t trust,” She chuckles which is replaced by a sharp inhale and a moan as you slide your cock into her, her tightness squeezes your cock not wanting to let go, “Fuck.”

You grip tightly onto her thighs using them as leverage as you thrust deep into her, she squeezes your cock at random intervals adding to your pleasure. Looking down at her, seeing her with that smirk etched on her lips. You part her lips with your thumb, her fangs grazing across it as you keep thrusting, getting her to feel every inch. Her legs wrap around you tightly as she reaches her climax. You slowly pull out as her juices cover the bed sheet. 

“We aren’t done here pretty boy,” She says between catching her breathing, she gets on her knees arching her back, spreading her ass, “Fuck my ass~” 

You don’t have to be told twice, as you push your tip into her ass, “So tight,” You continue to push deeper and deeper.

“No o-ne has fucked my ass since the 80’s, I had to do it myself~” She moans out as you bottom out in her tight ass, “Break me pretty boy, tear that ass up,” She smiles as she feels your cock piston in and out, “FUCK YES!” 

Her moans echo through the halls, the sound skin slapping against skin accompanies it. Your hand wrapped up in her hair as she takes your cock, her mind merely a blank slate. Her eyes glazed over as her ass was used just like she wanted. You pull out quickly, surprising her as she squirts adding to her puddle. Her whole body shakes as she looks back at you, ”You fucker.” 

“I’m only giving you what you wanted, remember that Yizhuo,” You pull her ass back up, spreading it, looking at your handy work. You smile to yourself as you slide back in with ease. She hasn’t recovered from her latest orgasm as you get back to your pace from before. You grip her hips tightly as you pound away chasing your own high using her like a sex toy. She digs her nails into your forearm. You go as fast as your own hips allow as you start to fill her ass with your cum. You keep going, you want to break her, and you will. Grabbing her other arm using them as leverage.

“FUCK FUCK!” She screams out as she starts to squirt as you rail her ass, making sure her ass will forever be able to take your cock whenever. Shooting another load into her, you finally let her go as she collapses on the bed, cum dripping from her ass. You catch your breath as you head over to your trousers. 

“Dirty slut,” You say getting dressed, and walking towards the door as she starts to giggle digging her fingers into her ass spreading it more. 

“Don’t you want to fill my ass more~?”

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 28

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 25, part 26, part 27

It is a lot easier for Wayne to find Steve than he thought it would be. He had the vision of tires screeching out of the parking lot. Speeding down the road to his house or somewhere worse. But here Steve is, sitting on the curb outside the hospital doors. An unlit cigarette in his hands. Looking like he’s debating the world.

Wayne’s not sure why he followed him. He has every right to yell. Every right to question what that was. Why he came at Eddie with so much anger? Lashing out as decisions that had already been set in stone. Already dealt with.

After all this talk of telling Dustin that he can’t change what Eddie did, how he got hurt, Wayne thought that Steve was over it. That whatever happened between them was in the past. And all of them were ready to move forward and try to forget the pain.

But as he looks at Steve, the way his shoulders hunch and his arm wraps around his knees, the pain isn’t forgotten. Just hidden under the surface of someone trying to keep everything together. To be the strong one while the world falls apart. The bandage that keeps the dam from breaking.

Wayns sighs. Sitting down next to Steve and extending that olive branch. Telling Steve that he didn’t come here to scold him, or break whatever trust they’ve formed in these past few weeks. But here to be a person who will listen without judgement. The same way that Steve has for him.

“You know you’re supposed to light those.”

Steve stares at his hand, giving the cigarette a gentle flick. “I haven’t smoked in years. Don’t even know why I have it to begin with.”

“Because it’s familiar, doesn’t matter how long you’ve gone without them. Or how long you smoked them to begin with.”

There’s a long break of silence. Wayne waiting for Steve to open up. Explain himself. Or maybe just get ready to put the mask back on whenever Dustin finds them. Either way, Wayne will be here next to him. Attempting to understand whatever is going on in his head. Be the sturdy post that Steve needs in this moment. Giving him the permission to crack.

Steve eventually hands Wayne the cigarette, giving up on trying to smoke it. Wayne takes it, feeling the weight he’s so familiar with rest in his hand. Finding his lighter and holding it up to the end. Not letting it go to waste.

After a shorter silence, Steve takes a deep breath. “Barb Holland, Billy Hargrove, Jim Hopper, Max Mayfield, and Eddie Munson. Those are all the people that either died or got hurt while I could do nothing to stop it.”

Wayne can’t find the right words to respond to that. He doesn’t have to, Steve still has more to say.

“I didn’t really know some of them well. And some of them, I didn’t really care about that much. But I knew people that did, and I see what they all left behind. And each of them could have been me. It could have been me that died or got hurt. But somehow, no matter how many times I’ve almost died, no matter what I’ve done, the universe keeps picking me to save.”

“And it makes you feel guilty.” It’s an obvious statement, Wayne knows that. But he can’t seem to find the words to say. Trying to find something comforting without minimizing how Steve feels. Knowing that whatever he says isn’t going to stick.

Steve’s nod is full of guilt. Like he’s the reason all of this happened. That everyone got hurt because of him. And maybe they did, Wayne doesn’t know the full story. But what he does know is that Steve is still a victim in this. The scars are only a proof of that. Whatever’s going on with his head is proof of that. The way he’s feeling right now is proof of that.

“I’m still in the dark about most of what’s happened in this town, apparently. I only know what you’ve told me, and I know that was only a partial story. But I can’t imagine that these people blame you at all. I know Eddie doesn’t. I can guess that Jim doesn’t. And Max. It seems like the only one who blames you, is you.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Steve tries to correct.

“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. That doesn’t matter right now. Right now, all that matters is that you think that your life is worth less than theirs. I can tell you right now that isn’t the case.”

Steve’s huff is full of self-deprecation. Refusing to believe that what Wayne is saying is true. It breaks Wayne a little bit. Finally seeing the cracks beneath the hard exterior Steve presents himself in. He's what, a year younger than Eddie? Barely an adult and holding himself to an unreachable standard. Pining for perfection that isn’t wanted.

“You don’t know me that well,” he says. Like that makes some kind of point. “I don’t think you can make that call.”

He has a point. Wayne doesn’t know Steve that well. But he knows enough. He knows that this kid will do anything and everything for the people he loves. Fight the unfightable just to protect them. Shelter them with everything he has. Even if it breaks him in the process.

He drives Dustin to and from the hospital day after day, no matter how he’s feeling. He sat with Max while she was still here, and with the kids while they were dealing with everything. He sat out in the waiting room while Wayne wouldn’t let him in Eddie’s room, just to show that he was there. That he wasn’t leaving them behind. Not again, or never at all. Wayne’s not sure.

What he is sure of, is that these people care about him more than Steve realizes. He sees it in the way Dustin trusts him. In the way all the kids trust him. Even in the way Eddie lights up every time he enters the damn room. In the way Eddie’s voice broke when calling out to Steve to stay.

Wayne can see how much Steve is loved while knowing so little about him. It crushes him that Steve can’t see that for himself.

“I don’t need to know you to know that your life is worth something.”

Steve shakes his head like he still can’t believe what Wayne’s saying.

“How old were you when this all started,” Wayne asks, trying a new approach.

“Seventeen,” Steve answers in a whisper.

Wayne has to bite his tongue to keep himself from cursing. Trying to keep this conversation in the place it is, instead of his own shock. “You were just a kid yourself, how could you have made the right decisions?”

“I still could have made better ones. I was a dick back then. Kinda still am.” He says this like it’s an excuse. It's not.

“I’ve heard the stories, so I’m not going to fight you on that. But who you were doesn’t decide who you have to be. Or what punishment you think you deserve. Yeah, you might regret the actions you’ve made, I do the same thing. But it’s that regret that shows you that you are a good person. Bad people don’t regret their decisions. The fact that you do tells me a lot about you.”

Steve shakes his head gently. Almost forcing the words to bounce off whatever wall he’s built up. The disbelief in it’s mortar refusing to break. But Wayne can see how he hasn’t said a word out loud to dispute it. He’s still listening.

“I can tell you right now that those kids don’t believe a word of what you’ve said right here. They still want you here. And that girl, Robin, that you hang out with all the time. She does too.”

Wayne’s just trying to make the point stick. Not quite sure where the words are coming from, or how effective they are. But something about them seems right, so they continue.

“Eddie wants you here. Hell, I do too. You mean more to these people than you know. Your life is worth something to them. Don’t let it mean nothing to you.”

The tension in Steve’s shoulders starts to break. Loosening from the ball he’s curled himself into. For the first time, Steve turns his head and looks Wayne in the eye. A wealth of sadness and hurt hiding behind his eyes. Something that can’t be built in a few years, but a lifetime.

Whatever this feeling is, it runs deeper that what he’s saying.

“You really mean that?”

“I do,” Wayne says with a nod. Nothing but truth in his words.

There’s nothing but silence after that. Steve going back to staring at the concrete. But looking less troubled than before. Something knew ruminating in his mind.

He eventually stands, wiping off the palms of his hands on his thigh. Wayne takes a second before following, feeling the regret of sitting on nothing but a curb for this long.

“I’m going to go-.” Steve motions to the hospital doors. “You know, apologize.”

“You sure? You’ve been through a lot today. I don’t think he would mind if you waited a day.”

That’s a lie, he would mind. Probably would spend the night thinking about it. But right now, Wayne can lie. He can lie to give someone who’s gone through so much grief some peace of mind. Even if it’s just for a moment.

Steve shakes his head. “No. I think it might make us both feel better if I do.”

Wayne watches him walk back into the hospital doors. Leaning against the wall and pulling a new cigarette from his pocket. Stands out there as the wind starts to chill and afternoon turns to evening.

Eddie wouldn’t mind one day without him saying goodbye. Not since he’s in there talking it out with Steve. Probably on to something else at this point. With that glint in his eye that tells Wayne there’s about to be a whole new problem.

tag list (capping at 100, only 2 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

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@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[writing-zelda-brainrots]

--

Title: || Lament of the Fallen || 

CW(s): yandere content, angst, reader briefly contemplates murder 

Prequel to this. You can honestly read these two in whichever order you want. 

I think I cooked with this one. Can you tell that corruption arcs are one of my favourite tropes? It’s part of why I like writing yanderes so much. 

-- 

If you were to describe your existence in this world with one word, it’d be “anomaly.” It sounded strange, but it just felt like the only right word to use. 

You were an anomaly; someone who couldn’t exist, one who shouldn’t exist by the laws of the world, and yet, you did anyway. A real Schrödinger’s Cat – that's what you were. Maybe that’s why you reacted the way you did. 

“Oh, hello.” The woman said surprised as she turned her gaze to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” 

You let out a nervous laugh, hiding the disappointment in your voice. “Yeah, I suppose not. I’m [Name]. I’ve been traveling with the heroes for some time.” 

She smiled. “Well, any friend of Time’s is a friend of mine. I’m Malon. Nice to meet you.” You shook her hand. It was calloused from hard labour, yet it was still as warm and gentle as you remembered. 

Of course she wouldn’t remember you. You were an anomaly in her– no, in everyone’s lives. This was your fourth time “meeting” her, yet she looked just as clueless about your existence as the last. It saddened you. But what did you expect? Did you think that she would retain her memories of you and jump out to greet you, like she did with her friends, even just once? That she’d happily tell jokes and stories with you over tea? 

It was in these moments when it became all the more obvious that you did not belong here. Not in this house, alongside the Chain, this whole world. 

But maybe it’s because of this fact that you were the one most likely to be able to change this world. 

-- 

Raindrops weighed down your hair, the locks sticking to your unfeeling face. You tried to not let any emotions show, but there was still a slight tinge of sadness in your eyes as you faced the people you once considered friends. 

“Tell them what you want to say, but don’t take too long. I don’t want to be kept waiting. Not in weather like this.” 

You said nothing, just faced away from Dark Link as he left the scene. 

“Welcome to the other side, [Full name].” And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone with a rather stunned group of your so-called heroes. 

“[Name], what is this? What is he talking about?” 

It’s ironic. For so long you’ve waited for a moment like this; where you could finally tell them off for everything they’ve done, the crimes you’ve seen them commit in the name of ‘protecting’ you, tell them how you’ve grown to hate them. Yet words failed you in this critical, seemingly once-in-a-lifetime moment. 

Somewhere deep down you knew that nothing you could say would satisfy them. They would never accept any of this. 

Still, you should probably say something as your final words for them before you disappear from their live forever. So you steeled your gaze and with a sigh you opened your mouth. 

“There is no point in you continuing your quest. Go home. Live long, peaceful lives.” You spoke clearly. “From now on, this fight is mine.” 

Confusion was clear in all of their faces and your words did nothing to alleviate it. If anything, it just made things worse. A hand grabs your shoulder as you try to turn away. It takes all your inner strength to not shudder at the contact. “[Name], what did he do to you?” 

“Don’t you dare touch me.” You spat venom at Time as lightning struck nearby, as if perfectly timed to highlight the harsh look on your face. That was seemingly enough to get him to back up a little. 

“This has to be a possession, right?” Wars muttered to himself as he looked into your cold eyes. You weren’t like this just a few hours ago. Sure, you looked tired a lot more often recently, but he had hoped that going to bed early would help. There was no other explanation. There couldn’t be. 

“[Name], you’re talking nonsense.” Twilight stepped forward to try and mediate. “You’re upset and tired, I get it. Let’s get you out of the rain, dry you off and we can talk this thr-” 

“I’ve made my choice. This journey ends here.” You shot back, silencing them all. “Leave. You’ve done enough.” 

What the hell had that bastard done to you? What lies did he feed you? Everything was just fine this morning, yet now that time felt like it was eons ago. Yet as they looked closer at you, they began seeing things they hadn’t noticed before. 

Had you always had bags under your eyes? When had you began to smile less? Was your posture always this stiff? When was the last time you gladly embraced any of them? Talked to them? They always kept a close eye on you, they should know the answers to these questions. Why couldn’t they remember? 

When did this aura of dark magic around you appear? 

Wind’s voice broke though the silence. “Give [Name] back!” The boy dashed forward, ignoring the orders to stop. Frustration and recklessness clouded his thought process, making it easy for you to deflect his attempted punches. So much like a petulant child; crying and resorting to anger when a toy is taken from them. 

Finally having had enough of him, you gathered energy into your leg. Might as well test out these new powers. With all the strength you could muster, you kicked the boy away from you. Fortunately for Wind, Hyrule was there to catch him before he could crash headfirst into a tree. 

“Let go of them! [Name] would never do this – any of this! They wouldn’t team up with that monster! They wouldn’t leave us! So give them their body back, you nasty witch!” Wind managed to speak despite having the air knocked out of him. 

“Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you seem to think you do.” 

Immediately a sword was pointed at your throat, kept just a hair’s breath away from cutting the skin. Clearly, you’ve managed to touch a nerve, given Legend’s reaction. “Enough. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m not letting you leave with our enemy.” 

“You’re always like this.” You couldn’t hide the frustration in your voice. “Even when I beg you, you never loosen your grip. You’ve completely isolated me from everyone who isn’t you. Despite everything, you still act like you’re in the right.” 

Sky spoke up after making sure that Wind was alright. “We’re just trying to keep you safe.” 

Oh, that’s the final straw. You grit your teeth. 

“Maybe you are trying to protect me. BUT HOW CAN I PRETEND THAT IT’S RIGHT?” You grabbed the sword’s blade with your hand, the tip scratching open a shallow, but long, cut on your neck as you tried to move the weapon away from you. 

“[Name], don’t-” 

“All I know is that deep down inside, nothing about my fate will change BECAUSE OF YOU!” 

Dark energy overflowing, despite your bleeding and hurting hand, you grip Legend’s sword so hard that it breaks. Rain began to swirl in the howling winds as thunder bellowed and lightning flashed all around. 

There was no avoiding this fight, either for you or them. It was obvious that they were a lot more apprehensive about this, but they still took out their weapons. In turn, you waved your hand and pulled a sword out of the aether. 

In a way, you had the advantage. Sure, they had numbers on their side, but their objective in this fight was to capture you, and yours was to escape. Meaning, they had to hold back, while you could be as lethal as you wanted to. Moreover, they were not aware of what new powers you possessed, and you knew all of theirs from watching them fight so many times. 

Blows were traded, arrows dodged, magic fired. All the while, each member of the Chain tried to “talk sense into you,” but you stayed silent and continued your attack. You knew that if you hesitated here – even for a moment – they would win. 

You were beginning to get tired, and the boys looked a little winded too. It was time to end this once and for all. Using the surrounding trees as makeshift stairs, you leapt high into the air, where none of their non-lethal attacks could get to you. The sword in your hands began to glow with dark magic. 

You could do it. You had the power. You had the advantage. They couldn’t dodge this, they couldn’t block this. You could do it right now. 

Make them pay for the suffering they caused. 

You didn’t know if these thoughts were your own or if you were being influenced by the Shadow. And that scared you. 

You weren’t a violent person; you always wanted the best outcome, you never wanted to assume the worst in people, you didn’t like fighting or getting hurt or hurting others. Has your time with these people fundamentally broken you? Has their twisted love for you changed you into someone you would hate? Would you even be able to recognise yourself in a mirror? 

You saw their eyes widen in horror as you took hold of your sword, ready to attack. Your iron grip on the sword faltered subconsciously. Still, you took a swing, sending a wave of dark energy towards your targets. 

By the time that the dust had settled, it had stopped raining. The Chain laid on the ground, unconscious, but still breathing. The least you could do was position their bodies so that they don’t wake up in unnatural positions. With effort you dragged them all into a pile, all of them holding each other up. 

You took one last sorrowful look at the people you once held so close. “Live. That is my final message to you.” 

“Farewell, Heroes of Courage.” 

And with a wave of your sword, you cut a tear through reality and disappeared into the portal. Anomalies shouldn’t exist. They couldn’t exist. And soon, they would believe so too. 

--