#to fit all the regret and guilt baby
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complexraspberry · 6 months ago
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Roku Week Day 7: Regret
[id: a digital illustration. Set during "The Avatar and The Fire Lord" the image shows Roku back onto the viewer, kneeling on the ground. His hair and robes are blowing wildly in the wind. He is surrounded by fiery embers, thick smoke and ash, and the landscape around him is lit ablaze. Above him in the burning sky, is Sozin's dragon flying away into the distance. Ash and lava are breaking the border as it rushes toward Roku. /end id]
The moment he realizes how fuck the situation is and there is nothing he can do to stop it
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mothandpidgeon · 6 months ago
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ave atque vale (Marcus Acacius x f!reader)
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Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!
pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader
rating: E 18+MDNI
summary: Marcus leaves without saying goodbye. Ave atque vale meaning hail and farewell
contents: angst, yearning, allusions to sex moth never uses y/n.
wc: 500
a/n: I'm breaking my own rule here about not writing for characters that aren't out yet but Daddius Acacius broke my brain yesterday. I hope you won't hold it against me. I am just a baby. Not beta'd.
The sleepy whimper that you make when Marcus slides out of the bed is enough to make him regret this. His resolve slips, just for a second, and he considers slotting himself back beside you. Holding you just a few minutes longer.
Dawn is just breaking, gray light filing in the shadows. There’s still enough time for a little more. You’re still slick from the night before. It would be easy to fit himself inside of you, feel your velvet grip around him, your soft shoulder against his lips. But waking you is the last thing he wants. 
His cowardice got the better of him. He couldn’t bear to see you with tears in your eyes, knowing you had a thousand questions he couldn’t answer. This was his last chance to see you before he’s sent away and this time, he’s not so certain he’ll be coming back. There's nothing he can do to change his fate. Duty bound to the empire– to wage war, taste blood and ash.
He wanted to have you, to remember you just the way you always are. One night of bliss. If he’d told you where he was going, it would have ruined it all. So he didn’t. 
He made love to you for hours, until you were both marked and sore. He held your face between his palms, pressed his cock deep inside you as if he could hide himself inside of you. His lips and hands mapped the planes of your body, memorizing every detail. The freckles on your skin, the sounds of your pleasure, the taste of your cunt. It wasn’t enough. He felt like he’d lost you and he hadn’t even left. 
Marcus stands frozen at your side, watching your bare chest rise and fall in peaceful sleep. Your hand is stretched out across the place on the bed where he’s just been, the spot cooling beneath your touch. Thank the gods you haven’t sighed his name in that drowsy rasp. It would surely bring him to his knees.
He aches to kiss you. Just once more, something to remember in the dark days to come. A respite through pain and cold and horror. But if he kisses you the way he wants to, the way he needs to, you’ll become suspicious. And he might not be strong enough to stop. He’ll go on kissing you, abandoning it all to live between your legs.
Despite how much it pains him, he’s steadfast. The same strength that has won him countless victories in battle keeps him from putting his lips to yours. He gives you a few more moments of peace, lets you go on dreaming that your lover is beside you though when your eyes finally open, he’ll be gone. 
He carefully pulls on his tunic and collects his armor, strewn about as you’d unlaced each piece and tossed it aside. Guilt twists in his gut as he lingers in the doorway. Your naked form glows in the weak light and he’s sneaking out like a thief in the night without even a goodbye. 
You’ll hate him for it. But perhaps that will save you from mourning him.
--
Thanks for reading. Your comments are always appreciated!!
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reverseexorcist · 10 months ago
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★ 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 ★
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"If it's alright could I request Carmilla Carmine x a fem reader who's a fallen angel? Like maybe they met during extermination and got their wings ripped off for not wanting to kill Carmilla's kids or they were already in hell with Carmilla for some time before the extermination? If you don't want to do this that's totally fine, and sorry if this isn't how to request stuff :)."
Honestly, with how this ended, I'm really tempted to write a much fluffier part 2 to this
Part 2 ↫ Right here
➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader
➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒
➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,462 Words
➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, descriptions of gore/blood, canonical Lute slander (sorry Lute), romantic or platonic wasn't requested so I went with platonic to fit the story more (if the requester wants romantic just feel free to ask me), mother mode Carmilla (she might be a bit ooc because of this),
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Oh wow.
Oh wow were you shaking.
You couldn't tell if it was from the excitement or the nerves - Probably both if you were being honest with yourself, but you couldn't shake off the vibrating feeling tingling beneath your skin that made you want to fly laps around heaven. Your stomach was doing flips, but you led mask only reflected your nearly psychopathic grin and twitching eye.
Even after your lieutenant Lute shot you a stern look, no doubt pissed off because you couldn't sit still for five goddamn seconds, you still couldn't resist fidgeting with your spear. It was sparkly, and somewhat heavy, and a murderous weapon that was entirely yours! It was also cold, freezing almost. Even against your gloves it made your palms feel numb and seemed to shine in sync with your own valiant excitement.
Baby's first extermination, basically. While the name certainly sounded scary, you'd been waiting for this day for six months (you and the other forty-five cadets in your platoon) and you were ready to do your best! Sure, you were still technically a rookie, hanging around the flock and bringing up the rear of the exorcists, but this was how you proved yourself to rise the ranks, right?
Your heart stopped beating in your chest when you finally reached the front. Holy shit, that was the high seraphim! Sera, right? Oh wow, she really was much much taller in person, towering above the clustering sea of black and white murderous intent. Her outward vibe was motherly and caring, but you could see the glint of distain, guilt and regret sparking in the deepest depths of her eyes. Which was confusing, because you were doing a good thing, right? Ridding the divine planes of sinners irredeemable souls.
The thoughts crowded your mind - Evil, twisted monsters crawling around like bugs in the brimstone crowded crevices of hell. You could only imagine the satisfaction of killing your first hell spawn.
It would have to be cool no doubt. Something big with lots of teeth and claws and that could breathe fire! You had to come home with a cool story to brag about. You'd heard the tales from all your superiors. From everyone including the first man Adam himself, your respectably awesome (if a little terrifying) lieutenant Lute, to the other lieutenants like Michael and Gabriel. You'd have to off a demon built like a mountain to get their attention.
And by the big man himself, you were going to do it. Even if it took you a hundred years, you could already see yourself commanding a group just like yours, bearing a helmet with horns big and curved and bold, black stripes stippled along your ivory wings.
With a very particular pep in your step, you saluted the high seraphim Sera respectively, head cocked up just so you could regard her kindly warmth in fullness. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, and although she swiftly sent you on your way with the rest of your platoon, you couldn't help but let your nerves sway your resolve ever so slightly.
It didn't matter though! You unfurled your wings with perhaps a bit too much of a dramatic flair, but with your spear in hand and helm polished so it shined with malevolent glory, you kicked off without a second thought, tailing right behind where you were supposed to be.
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Your first impression of hell was the heat.
With the extermination already well under way, raging fires were already burning up half of the city sending whorls of smog up into the air. You easily battered it away with a few strong flaps of your wings. With your head on the swivel, your eagle-eyes peered around the desolate land for the forms of the sinners struggling to thrive below, silhouettes hidden by the thick layer of smoke and ash blanketing the landscape.
Lieutenant Lute furled out her wings below you, a screeching war cry echoing throughout the battlefield as she all but left your rookie platoon in the metaphorical dust. The sound itself only spurred you on, itching for the blood of a demon on the blade of your angelic spear. Without a second thought, you tucked your wings to you sides and dived below, headfirst into the fray.
Billowing flames licked past you harmlessly, though they burned like hell (which seemed rather apt, considering where you). You didn't falter, flying through the embers like a goddamn phoenix ready to cleanse the realm sprawled out beneath you. The solid wingbeats of two of your fellow cadets only strengthened your resolution, a holy fire burning in your soul - An itch to clear the filth of devil scum away. This was the chaotic strength that your captain had sought to build in you, and now you were finally able to act on it.
But everywhere you looked, you only found simple, humanoid souls running and screaming in terror. Eyes wide, half-dead or bloodied beyond belief as they scrambled to find shelter from the onslaught of exorcists like yourself. Nowhere could you see the mangled forms of the demons you'd been taught to slaughter. Descriptions from your seniors before you passed through your mind - 'gleaming eyes with with wrath and lust', 'gangly limbs twisted to an unholy form', 'mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth, and claws like knives'.
You faltered, confused. The words of Lute rang out in your mind.
"Of course, it's not like they can actually hurt you. You're all warriors, the toughest, just use your spears to stab the shit out of them!"
You were alone now. You couldn't hear the comforting sounds of your fellow rookies behind you anymore. They were well in front of you now, peering around with a similar confusion to yours. But to your absolute horror, they simply shrugged their shoulders and dived forward with bloodlust evident in their glowing white masks. Silver points of spears were jammed through the heads of the terrified demons below. But were they demons? They didn't look like them at all. Every single book you'd seen depicting demons drew them as eldritch monsters with too many eyes to count, tentacles and claws and fangs with nary but bloodlust and vile thoughts hidden within their slitted eyes.
But the demons in front of you looked just like people. You could see the way their faces contorted in terror. You could see them scrambling to help what you could only assume were friends and family, pulling them along and carrying the ones who couldn't run for themselves. You could only feel your heart fall as you watched one of your best friends land on top of a sinner already crushed by rubble, turquoise skin stained red. The begged and pleaded and cried, but their voice was silenced as the spearhead sunk into their skull.
You flinched. The world around you ignored you completely, and for once, you were completely happy to go unnoticed.
Shakily, you touched-down in a nearby street. It was littered with already oozing corpses, but other than that it was peacefully empty. At least here the sounds of violence and pain and terror was muffled, far away enough that you could at least try to distance yourself and get your breathing under control.
You barely reeled in a gag as the smell of blood invaded your senses.
Was this really what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? You could still see yourself in your mind's eye, a model exorcist like your lieutenant now leading her own platoon into another extermination. Maybe this would be a one off, just a shock to the system that would get your mind reworked into killing mode. But, the more you thought about it, the more your heart clenched in pain and terror that seemingly matched the suffering souls around you. You were an agent of heaven, you thought you were killing mindless monsters, not those with human souls! Sure, there were probably shitty people fucking around down here, but what about all those who had to sin in self defence?
A chorus of startled gasps startled you out of your panic ridden stupor. Your wings flared up, trying to make yourself look bigger, more threatening as you wheeled around. The spear in your hands looked more like a prop at this point, and it was clear that you had minimal idea how to use it inside a proper battle. But still, you fumbled with it and pointed it threateningly in the direction of the two demons that had appeared right behind you.
They clutched each other, stumbling backwards and further away from the danger of your angelic weapon. One of them placed an arm in front of the other, her eyes narrowing behind her red-tinted glasses as if she was both terrified by you, but was daring you to do something about it.
But still, you could see them shaking from where you stood. They both seemed rooted to the ground, the one with platinum blonde hair refused to take her eyes off of you, but the demon behind her (maybe her sister? A friend?) was looking around nervously.
You could see yourself reflected in those crimson specs, and for once it made you freeze. You'd seen yourself in uniform plenty of times before, the steel boots and guard gloves and the led, horned helmet, but it always seemed almost comforting before. When you were surrounded by your cohorts, it made you fit in. Out here, you realised, you were the monster.
The ever-present smile on your mask shrunk, falling into a grimace as your grip on your weapon tightened. Your wings drew in, you shrunk backwards, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process of trying your hardest to get away. You never wanted to scare people.
So drowned by your own confusion and fear and reckless thoughts of worry about the future that you didn't notice the confusion growing the faces of the demons in front of you turn into abject horror as a far more ominous silhouette grew behind you.
"I thought I taught you not to hesitate," Lute growled in your ear, placing her free hand on your shoulder and digging her fingers in till your were sure a bruise was marred into your skin. You didn't respond, couldn't even if you wanted to. The trembling that rattled you only grew stronger, and you fumbled as your hands cramped painfully. With a resounding clatter, your spear dropped from your grasp an on to the brazen brimstone floor.
Lute growled.
She didn't say anything, but she knew. The both of you knew by now. You couldn't kill a sinner.
Lute didn't even hesitate before shoving you to the ground. Your head collided with solid stone painfully even with your helmet on, stars shining behind your eyes as her words blurred together as she pressed her foot firmly between your shoulder blades. Your wings shivered and spread involuntarily, and you feared the moments that would come next. Lute was unpredictable, but this could only end with bloodshed.
The two girls still hadn't moved, transfixed in horror as they watched the scene in front of them play out.
Asphalt stung your hands and you tried to claw your way to freedom, fingertips digging into the scorched Earth as you started crying. Lute, however, was stronger than you. Of course she was, she'd been doing this for centuries, and you were still a fledging on her first trip out of heaven.
You never thought it would end like this.
Lute dug her fingers into your wings, tangling into your still downy feathers before she yanked with all her might. The scream she tore from your lips was hellish, agonising, yet the blended with the sounds of violence all around you. You were sure you blacked out several times throughout the process, but by the time your old lieutenant was done with you, barely anything but feathery stumps and golden blood remained of your wings.
You could only curl up, cry and watch as Lute tossed clumps of feathers aside as she stalked toward the two demons that still hadn't had the thought to run. And for the first time in your life, you felt sorry for the sinners that populated hell's ring of wrath.
She would make them suffer, that was for sure. If she was happy enough to tear of another angel's wings, you could only imagine what she would do to a sinner. You didn't want to imagine, and your mind was fuzzy enough that you thankfully didn't have to.
The sound of something sharp rang throughout the air. It made you groan in pain, the sound piercing your ears and making your brain rattle in your skull. Sharp - 'Tink tink tink tink tink.' If you could see the look of relief coming across the demons faces, a part of you might've urged Lute to run. Only, she had just torn your wings off with little qualm, and now you had no shits left to give if she lived or not.
The exorcist never got the chance to strike, her weapon torn from her hands and thrown across the street till it collided with a bloody body. Lute herself barely had time to react before she was struck over the head once, then twice in rapid succession. A whirlwind of white and angelic steel and pure fury launched herself in the path between the two demons and the exorcist. It was almost exhilarating to watch, seeing Lute strike out with her fists in a pathetic attempt of hand to hand combat against her new foe. Whoever they were, they were really fucking fast, almost too fast for you to keep up with.
The fight was over before it started. Without her weapon, Lute couldn't do much against the sinner she was pitted against, and as ruthless as she was, she knew when a battle was lost. In a flurry of black and white feathers, she fled. And then the newcomer's attention was shifted to you.
At this point, you would've welcomed death. The pain alone was making you drift slightly, and you didn't even have the energy left to groan when whoever nudged you slightly with something hard and cold.
"Mother.." The words were so soft, floating away from your ears.
"We need to leave." It was undoubtably her. That voice was the one who beat Lute into the ground.
"What about..?" That was the one who called out for mother.
"Won't she tattle?" So that had to be her sister.
Those words sent a dose of adrenaline through you. With as much strength as you could muster, you clawed yourself into an upwards position. You could feel the clotting blood running down your back, but if you were going to die, you at least wanted to do so with some dignity.
Shakily, with much more effort than was really desired, you reached up and peeled your helmet off.
It clattered noisily like glass against the floor, and suddenly the world was much brighter, much more red and the air was laced with more sulphur and death than you could imagine. But what really surprised you was the look of shock written across the sinner's face.
She was tall. Really tall. The only person who could really compete was Seraphim Sera or maybe Adam, but you really couldn't tell with how delirious you were.
"Una niña?" They all looked surprised.
The one called mother took a few steps forward, confusion and anger clearly present in her eyes. But, as she kneeled down in front of your comparatively tiny form, you realised the anger wasn't directed at you.
"Did she try to hurt you?" She turned back to face her daughters. They both shared a look, but ultimately shook their heads no. That right there, was your saving grace.
She looked back at you, hair pinned into high horns, and took your helmet in her large hands. She passed it off to one of her daughters, before gently scooping you into her hold.
You whined, writhing minutely in her hold as the searing phantom pain of your wings being torn off returned. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, and yet the demoness tutted softly, shushing you like you were a baby.
Her daughters followed without a word, and you and the family unit moved swiftly through the desolate roads. So many questions were running through your mind, and yet you couldn't find the answer to any of them, your thoughts to lost to the fog of blood loss to ever truly return.
"You better not betray me," Were the last words you heard before promptly passing out.
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The plushness of a soft blanket was the first thing you felt waking up. For a moment, you felt nothing but relief realising the entire thing had been a horrid nightmare, but when you tried to rustle the numbness out of your wings, the relief was replaced with horror when you realised that your wings were just straight up missing, only two feathery stumps remaining in their place.
That made you shoot up in horror. You didn't even care about the sharp sting that ran down your spine and into your very being, you were a bit too concerned about your current predicament.
"You're awake."
That made you promptly scream before ducking under the covers like you were a nestling again. A soft sigh reached your ears, but you dared not to venture out from the warmth of the thick covers.
Not like you had a choice, though, as you were soon pried away from their safety. It was her, the demoness with the high-pinned buns. She looked down on you, red eyes glowing in the low light, and yet, you couldn't sense a smidge of hatred towards you. Only distrust and sadness laced her expression.
"How old are you?" She asked after the silence had gone on long enough.
"I'm a fledgling," Is all you said. You didn't really fancy giving too much information. Although, the look of horror the crossed her face maybe suggested that you'd already given away plenty.
"Obligan a los niños a hacer esto?" She raised a hand and carded it through her snowy tresses, locks of white hair threaded loose as she paced back and forth. You only watched her, slowly sinking back into the comfort of the warm blankets.
"You're still a child." It was a statement.
You hated being a child. You didn't want to be a child, at least, you hadn't wanted to be a child in the past. You wanted to join the ranks of the exorcists, and to do that you at least needed to be juvenile. Hell, you were lucky enough to make it into the cadets while you still had baby feathers decorating your wings. But now, the fact that yes, you were still technically a kid made your saviour look upon you with more than just disdain and hatred like any other exorcist, but rather she looked upon you with an emotion that you'd never seen before, and not one you could really name.
"You are a child, and now you have fallen," She eyed your mostly healed wing stumps, and you couldn't help but reflexively flex them anxiously. The literal weight off your back made you want to cry.
"Was this your first extermination?" She gazed upon you with a guarded look. You nodded.
"And you didn't hurt my daughters?" Another nod from you. That seemed to make her relax just a tad.
"Could you ever hurt someone?" That made you pause, the memories of the extermination rushing back to you full force. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes, and still, you answered with a simple 'no'.
She exhaled a sigh of relief before closing the distance and kneeling down to your eye level.
"Carmilla Carmine." She reached a hand out toward you. So that was her name.
You clutched your hands close to your chest, fearing her touch, but gave her your name anyway.
"What are you gonna do with me?" You asked, voice cracking. Her gaze softened, finally letting her guard slip for just a moment.
"Well, you weren't going to make it out there by yourself. You'll be staying with me," The words took a moment to sink into your mind. Well, at least it was better than death.
Gently, like she was working with a scared animal, Carmilla coaxed you out from the comfort of the bed, slowly ushering you to her side. With your wings missing and their remains bandaged, head bare and missing your exorcist helmet, it felt like the safest place in the world.
"Welcome to Hell."
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Rules + Info,
Masterlist,
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ssturniolo · 1 year ago
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hello! can you write in which chris and the reader both go to boarding school, and one night they get in a big fight and the next morning their friends tell him that the reader is missing and like ran away and he finds her? thank you so much i appreciate you <3
Sorry
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - After a fight, Chris realizes he was wrong and goes to apologize
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - swearing, angst, reader and Chris are still in school, not proofread (sorry if there’s anything else)
“I just don’t understand why you’re yelling at me for every little thing” you say, raising your voice to match his.
“Because you’re fucking annoying” Chris snaps back, not bothering to look up from his phone.
“How?! I literally haven’t done anything to you why are you being such a dick?” You yell, your voice cracking as tears threaten to fall from your eyes.
“Y/n you’re here ALL of the time. You’re like a little leech; following me around and sucking the energy right out of me” he looks directly into your eyes as the bitter words slip from his lips, not the slightest bit of regret shown on his face.
“Ok then I’ll just leave if that’s how you really feel about me” you turn around before he can see the tears gliding uncontrollably down your face.
“Good” is all you hear before slamming his door behind you.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **
Chris takes a deep breath before knocking on your door for the third time. He knows that’s it’s early, 4:27 am to be exact but he felt terrible for the way he treated you. There was no truth to the words that he said but that doesn’t change the fact that they came out of his mouth.
“Y/n?” He calls through the door, ready to give up and go back to bed when the door cracks open.
“What do you want Chris” your roommate groans, eyes still heavy from sleep. “It’s the middle of the god damn night.”
“I know I know and I’m sorry but I really need to talk to y/n” Chris pleads, guilt evident in his voice.
“I thought she was with you? She never came back last night” her voice thick with worry.
“Well shit” Chris whispers under his breath before leaving her confused at the door.
Despite knowing exactly where you are, Chris can’t help but get worried with you being out in the dark, especially since it’s so far past curfew.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **
You sit on a bench under a beautiful swaying willow tree at the far end of campus grounds. The tears on your cheeks reflect against the moonlight as you feel a presence next to you.
“I really don’t want to talk to you right now” you say, curling your legs up to your chest as you angle your body away from him.
“You don’t have to respond but please just listen.” Chris starts, a tremble in his voice. “I’m so sorry baby. I wasn’t thinking and I most definitely shouldn’t have snapped at you, I really really am sorry.”
Sorry doesn’t erase the words he said and it most definitely doesn’t make you feel any better. But it is a start.
“Did you really mean it though? That I’m just a pest that follows you around?” You mutter, barely audible.
“I promise you y/n I didn’t mean what I said and I know I fucked up” he responds, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, awaiting your answer.
You know he didn’t mean to make you feel this way and he was just overwhelmed but then again, he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You guys have never yelled at each other like that and just the fact that it happened scared you.
“I understand you’re stressed but just don’t yell at me like that again please” you sigh as he drys the leftover tears from your face.
Chris immediately wraps you in a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck, your bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.
“I promise my love,” he whispers into your hair as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck.
“I love you so much and I truly am so sorry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope I did this justice, thanks for the request!
XOXO - Zoe
Tag-list ⬇️
@dwntwn-strnlo @soleilsturniolos @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @nickenthusiast @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli
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francixoxoxo · 4 months ago
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.✿° For Better, For Worse
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𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝 𝐗 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭- 𝐡𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
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𝐓𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞, is to know them.
As you set the table, you knew they'd be returned to the drawer untouched. As you waited by the door, you knew your wasted time would be compensated by hugs, kisses, a reason, an apology. But it wouldn't be reconciled with a new dinner, a fresh evening, a timely arrival.
You didn't turn on your side as you heard the front door creak open. Billy knew better than to call out your name at such an ungodly hour, especially when he was in the business of winning back your good graces. You pulled the cotton sheets tighter around yourself, nuzzling your cheek further into the pillow as bootsteps thumped closer, light pouring into the dark bedroom. Billy placed the candle and its dish on the dresser with a soft clinking, remaining silent. Damn right, the words chimed in your mind with satisfaction, though you felt a rush of guilt for thinking it.
You could hear the soft rustle of clothes as Billy undressed, the shifting and clattering of his gun belt as he unbuckled it and slung it over a chair. His soft breath as he blew out the candle. The muted thump of his socked feet against wood as he shrugged off his shoes, the dip in the mattress as he crawled his way to your side.
No words were spoken as Billy's arms wound securely around your middle, his nose finding the crook of your neck and his lips sneaking a faint kiss to the warm skin there. He inhaled deeply your scent, before shifting a bit and pushing the bridge of his nose into the side of your neck.
He knows he's in the wrong. You know he didn't mean it. He knows he's gotta make it up to you, but you've lost tally, there isn't a point in keeping score anymore. You can feel all the regret in the way he holds you, pulls you into his chest, twines his leg twixt yours. Billy really is sorry, you know he is, but you want to hear the words.
"You're late."
"I know, baby." Billy mumbles into your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin in a sigh. His lips press over your shoulder and to your nape just barely in faint, almost-just-brush-of-the-lips kisses. "M' sorry. Really am, you know I am."
Your eyes flicker around the dark shadows of furniture in your threadbare bedroom. Not much to stare at; A mirror in the corner. A desk and chair, bills with envelopes torn set to the side, a dictionary open to a certain page front and center. A nightstand, his side, a copy of Don Quixote, an empty glass of water, a caramel for his midnight-sweet tooth. If he looked over his shoulder (if he tore himself away from you, an unlikely event) he'd see just the same. A dresser, easily fitting the few clothes the two of you possessed. A person who knew where to look might find a "stash" of baby clothes hidden under Billy's button-ups; a linen dress with minimal Chantilly lace, a swaddle you'd hand-embroidered, a little taupe hat. Hardly a stash.
Billy restlessly shifts, burrowing his face further into your neck and exhaling with a deep sort of comfort. A comfort only your warmth could provide, the temple of your body more fulfilling than any church. "I'll make it up to you."
Your hand finds his, twines both your fingers together over your belly. His wedding band is cool on your fingers. A year its been on his ring finger, the silver ring a boast-worthy statement. Billy the damn Kid settled down, that's right. William Bonney's got himself a missus, and if you point that out, he'll talk your ear off 'bout just how great she is.
Yours spoke a different tune. You'd married an man who blew in the wind, a man who's life was not promised. All he could offer was his undying devotion, his unyielding love. Even during times like this, it was hard to overlook just how dedicated his heart was to you. You murmur a soft goodnight, falling under slumber's silk curtain with the firm presence of your husband's chest against your back. There was seldom a night he didn't offer it to you, and those nights were often very adequately apologized for. They were never of his own will.
You knew he would do this again, your Billy. But as long as his arms were taut around you, even if only in the latest hours of the night, you were content. For better or for worse, you loved him more than the sea loved the moon and the wind loved the Rocky Mountains.
This is the notion you soothed yourself with.
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When morning sunlight peeked through your Chantilly curtains, yellows tickling your cheek, the space beside you was unfilled. With a weary exhale you laid a hand over the mattress; still warm. Come to think of it, the house smelled like bananas. But that couldn't be-- oh, it was!
You pushed the covers off yourself and slipped out of bed, padding barefoot into the hall. As you peered 'round the corner at the entrance, the side table beside the door was adorned with a vase of fresh flowers. Why, you realized as you looked around, every surface had a bouquet! You stepped into the main room, and were delighted to see tulips brightening the small dining table. Peeking into the kitchen you found (again, flowers on the countertop, daffodils,) the recognizably broad back of a man at your stove. A plate on the right of the stove was stacked high with pancakes. a sliced but otherwise untouched banana laid on a cutting board by the pancakes.
"What's all this?" You gasp, coming to stand beside Billy. A warm smile splits his face, he moves to tuck you under his arm and nose a kiss into your hair.
"Banana pancakes!" Billy hums, his voice slightly muffled against your crown before he turns back to the skillet, "Happy anniversary, baby."
Your draw together curiously. "But that was yesterday." Your husband frowns, his chest expanding with a deep breath. He nods a bit. "I know. M' makin' it up t'you, like I said I would."
A warm feeling fills you, expanding and rolling like a sweet fog all the way to your feet, your ears, very fingertips as they find his knuckles on your shoulder. "Awh, Billy.."
Billy smiles again, like you're endearing him. He plants another kiss to your forehead as he flips the pancake. "Can't believe I missed it, never felt so stupid. I couldn't let it pass without doin' anythin'." You hum softly. You won't tell him that it was all-right, and you didn't mind, because you did mind. You did feel a bit bruised that the special day came and went without so much more than lingering kisses in the morning and groveling in the night.
"Two years s'important." Billy adds after a moment, lifting his brows. His arm around you slips away to pour more batter into the skillet, before returning to you and securing a hand around the back of your head. You coo your agreement, "It is."
"Two years s'how long my Ma n' Pa waited t'have me." Billy continues with a grin in his voice. You hum with interest, a smile of your own stretching your lips.
Your words bubble forth in a giggle, "You sayin' it's time for babies, Mr. Bonney?" It's as if the sound of your joy triggers a burst of the warm feeling in his own chest. Billy chuckles heartily.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe!” You repeat with a bright laugh, looking up at him to find he’d been looking down at you. He shrugs his shoulders with a boyish grin, stealing a peck from your lips now that he’s found the chance.
“Little somebody t’keep my woman company when I ain’t ‘round.” Billy murmurs, his smile faltering just a bit, to where one might call it softening, but you were a keen eye. His words carried a subtle guilt, a tender regret. A love that he knew was not worth your time, not for all the trouble it gave you.
He’d wrap up the stars in package paper if he could gift them to you. He’d suck all the gold from the earth with a straw if you’d appreciate its shine. Billy would rip the shirt from his own back to give it to you, though the threadbare clothing was hardly good enough for you. Not by the standard of what he believed you should have. Nothing he had to give was worth your attention nor time, Billy felt like he’d bought all these years with you by playing a sneaky trick, like he’d fooled you into a bad deal.
Little does he know you didn’t get fooled into anything. This kind of love needed no pitch, no shady salesman, only the knowledge that Billy’s heart is filled with you, and only you. Yours is just the same, you can feel picture frames of his portrait nailed to the walls of your soul, the photos only growing in pigment as your heart swelled to fit more and more.
“This is enough.” You promise. He drops a kiss to your hair, gratified. And he’s reminded just why he put that ring on your finger two years ago.
You are enough for me, your words truly say, the meaning expanding past them. No matter the distance twixt you two, be it death, the law, the gun; these memories would be enough to sustain you.
Billy shakes his head in disbelief, a snort leaving his nose. With his hand on the back of your head he pulls you closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. Your husband’s words are breathed with a reverence, an awe that shot diamonds from his eyes as they bore into yours. “I don’t know what I did t’deserve you, baby. Don’t know how I got so lucky.”
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theastrical · 6 months ago
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your wedding with the genshin men
kaeya, diluc, childe x bride!reader
ps: i’m sorry it’s only three characters, i’ve been getting a burnt out these past few days, so the content might be kind of a flop hhh…:(
kaeya, our dream wedding
He had prepared since a very long time about this day; especially ever since you both have started to get serious about this relationship you have with him. He has been hinting it down, asking you questions that lead him to know your dream wedding. He doesn’t want anybody to know aside from his best man, which is diluc.
And finally when the time came for him to explain the wedding and how much have he taken care of the whole thing, you were amazed, in fact, you cried, because all have been taken care of and not by the preparation, not that it impresses you as much as how how much he knows you, how much he prioritise your dream in this wedding of yours instead of his. “I thought it’ll be nice to know my fiance’s dream…after all, your dream is mine as well.”
Weeks before the wedding, when you do your fitting and have prepared your own specials for the wedding, kaeya asked not to spoilt him any more of your preparation for him; so you did. You made your own vow, you prepared a flower…an eternal flower where it’s protected by glass and it can last forever, and your wedding dress-which has been designed to have kaeya’s favorite flower, the calla lily.
But there’s one more thing you have made a secret of, it’s a small gift from you that’s more to what he had imagined, you had asked an illustrator to come inside the wedding and draw crepus; his late father, to attend his wedding beside him and diluc as his best man in the final picture of the wedding. To commemorate what crepus can’t see; his two sons growing up.
The day you walked in the aisle, he can only open his mouth; spilling out the word “mine” quietly. He held your hand, like a guard trying to protect it, before he kisses your palm, and greet you in his thousand of smiles. He had made a vow, super simple and short but it makes you tear up, cause kaeya, never said words that impacted you more than today and so did you when you spilled out your vows to him.
The wedding ring was made to complete each other when it’s used, yours are the sun and his are the moon. The audience consist of people that are close to you, hence it wasn’t that awkward for both of you to even have the first kiss as a husband and wife, because…it felt too good to be true, to finally have him as the one for your entire life.
Although, kaeya finally broke down when..you asked the illustrator to show the painting to him. It felt like, crepus is there. His only father figure is there to be with him in his happiest moment. He cried like a baby, while seeking a comfort on you. He kisses your cheeks nose and everywhere, telling you in a whisper…”you don’t know how much all of these meant to me, i didn’t regret any of this at all…please never stray away from me.”
Diluc; royalty wedding
He had made it clear before that he will prepare a royal wedding, something that the royals can only partake. You were baffled obviously, you know how much it’ll cost and you can’t never contribute even a slightest bit cause hey, the thing he called wedding is basically the sentence of “how to spend all of your life savings in one night.”
So you talked it out with diluc, you have thought it’ll be okay if it’s going to be a simple wedding as long as the money is enough but diluc immediately banished that thought with a simple sentence of “you won’t put your money into it and that’s final. Just let me be the one to pay, you can prepare everything you want, as long as both of us can have our own time inside the wedding. After all my dear, what’s the use of these money if i can’t please you hmm?” the guilt is there inside you but you just nodded. After all, if he had put the mind inside it. You know there’s no way out.
So you did, you prepared your all time wishlist, ready to spend out his unlimited wallet like there’s no other day than your wedding. He chuckled when he saw the bill for your every needs, he thought it was funny that even after everything, you only waste what you thought were expensive for you instead for him. So he bought you the much more expensive food for the wedding to make your spending balance with his, because it’ll be unequal if both side don’t have the pleasure on preparing this wedding.
Yes diluc is showing his love thru his materialistic nature, but that’s just how he is, because he trust you enough to show what he have more than his demeanor that everybody judge to be cold and rude. Because you’ve seen his everything, his emotional side especially, and he wanted to pay you back for being his everything (his daily listener and his free pats and affection machine) by enjoying the perfect wedding and soon to be life he can afford with his money.
So when the day came, you were not just in shock, you were so baffled you continue to asked him “we’re not in the wrong place right?” Which he just answered with “how come we’re in the wrong place silly…there’s your name and mine in the sign hehe..” after all he has been keeping the location secret, he just wants you to come and be his forever at this point.
That same day is the only time you see him smile like a sun, he definitely should smile more and you hope that the sight of your dress can turn him into a sunshine. You were preparing your dress and makeup, your bridesmaid as well, all of you are having fun by yourself until it’s time.
you suddenly feel nervous, your heart felt like it just fell down…and the way your stomach churn just before you walk down the aisle, oh god, you wanted to puke-yet in the same time you step your heels onto the floor, diluc immediately look at you, his face is cold, it made you 100 more times groggy.
But as soon as you hold his hands and he held yours, he whispered to you…”don’t make me fall in love with you more now..” shit, diluc, don’t make me blush even more!!! He said his vows, which was helped by kaeya cause he wants to make it…more informal, to which it made you teared up because with the help of kaeya and his willingness, it feel like he finally talked his honest feelings…
and When it’s time for your first kiss as a wife and a husband, he held your waist, leaning your body down and kisses you passionately as he look at your eyes, what a love fool he is to even kiss you like there’s no other day. Oh and surprise surprise, after the whole wedding ended, he showed you his long time gift that he hasn’t been able to expose, a small house in the mountainside-an escapism for you both to have your best life together. “let’s use that tomorrow yea? i’ve packed your things and mine, let’s have a peaceful honeymoon where no one can’t disturb us~…”
Childe; the traditional wedding
You guys will have the wedding of the century in his hometown (presumably by childe’s family cause his hometown rarely have weddings and childe is known across the town). You didn’t deny that request though, after all you have visited childe’s hometown and it certainly is beautiful even when the place is extremely cold.
Because the wedding is far away from your family and friends, he decided to pay for their tickets, after all, marrying you means marrying your entire life, at least to a traditional man like him.
Months before the wedding, he had talked to you about the wedding and how he needed to at least have your approval in these certain things, cause he doesn’t want to disappoint his wife, the wedding is basically his test to become your perfect husband. The wedding he planned was a simple traditional wedding, speaking each vows and family gathering, that’s all. It’s not exactly what the modern “wedding of the century” is but to his family, seeing childe getting married is already a gem by itself.
You both have agreed to spoilt each other privately in the honeymoon instead, because the wedding will be filled with his huge family members and friends you barely know. so with a short and simple event to be held, you guys have decided to exchange each other’s precious item; and both of you have chosen the wedding ring. Instead of couple wedding ring, you guys chose each ring that represent both of you the best, so when it was exchanged, then you guys would have a part of each other in hand.
In the aisle where you walked, he just stared at you, mesmerized by you-his eyes slowly tearing up in response; because his heart was struck by a realization, to met someone like you, who understands him the most and make this wedding more than the word special to him…is enough. You’re beautiful, too beautiful in truth, especially for somebody like him.
When you were beside him, he chuckles and hide his tears, yet your hands immediately brush those tears with a comforting smile, he replies with a grunt of “thank you, wifey..” ,
you both exchange vows, he ended his vows with a quote from Shakespeare that he read about in his first library date with you..”life is too short to love you in one, i promise to look for you in the next life”. He hugged you instead of kissing you at first, because he was already too emotional when he said his vows.
Then afterwards you guys exchanged the ring, his was a blue sapphire, the same color as his eyes, yours were white, bland indeed, but white is a base-a color which everybody need, and you wanted him to know, that you’re always here for him. When you both exchanged the rings, he laughed, he was too happy to have a piece of you in him. He even make a play with his wingman by acting like they’re polishing it and make sure it’s all pretty. You were laughing your ass off because childe look so smitten by this point.
And when the priest say it was time to kiss each other as a wife and a husband. He immediately carry you in his arms and kisses your lips…before he slips to your cheeks and neck. He carries you to his arm and snuggles to your neck, walking thru the doors of the wedding venue to the private hall to continue the family gathering…which is basically him feeding you food and the guests intervening onto childe’s act of service by talking to you both almost every single second. “now just eat the food okay? I’ll handle those nosy guest..” he pats you before he feeds you again and again, as he giggles…for seeing how cute you are like this, teary eyed from the wedding ceremony and hungry.
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onlygarden · 1 year ago
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[ BABY, CAN I TAKE IT BACK? ] - IWAIZUMI HAJIME
genre: angst/ comfort at the end
description: in an unexpected situation, iwaizumi betrays your trust in a nearly irreparable way
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for as long as iwaizumi had been your boyfriend, he was always consistent in expressing how utterly enamored he was by you. from the moment you graciously leaped into his life, he could not imagine a world where he couldn’t constantly admire your every gesture. iwaizumi rarely found himself angry with you; anytime he did express his anger, it could hardly be described as such. the most anger he ever allowed himself to bestow onto you was a slightly elevated voice, or a tiny hint of irritation in his tone. even those trivial actions pierced him with guilt and regret, which led to a plethora of unnecessary apologies and promises to make it up to you. you never felt entitled to these sorts of actions from iwaizumi (especially for such forgettable disputes), but no matter how much you explained to him that it wasn’t a big deal, he would not be able to live with himself if he didn’t apologize to his beloved girlfriend. you were indescribably precious to him, and he truly wanted to treat you as the gem he saw you to be. 
you sat closely beside him on the couch, enjoying the rare moment of idle time together. you were both quite busy people, constantly being pulled in new directions and constantly facing new tasks. you sometimes visited iwaizumi at the gym during his work hours when time permitted you to. although you both enjoy the times when you run errands or complete household duties together, nothing could replace the moments of shared tranquility. your legs were comfortably draped over his muscular thighs, and your arms held gently onto his bicep as your head rested upon his shoulder. iwaizumi sat with his phone in his right hand, as he softly caressed your legs with his left. 
your eyes stray from the television to his phone, taking slight notice of your name being mentioned in the messages between him and oikawa. you look up at your boyfriend’s face as he types, and you take notice of the slight chuckle he lets out at oikawa’s responses. as curiosity strikes you, your eyes wander back towards his phone screen, and you begin to read the content of each message. 
the more you read, the faster your heart beats. you realize that iwaizumi and his best friend were discussing their relationships with each other, which you normally thought nothing of. however, the information that iwaizumi decided to share about you was the shocking part. he casually shared your insecurities and other personal information with oikawa (some of the info being sexual), which caused a pit to form in your stomach. you never questioned your trust in iwazumi, but now you were astounded by how carelessly he babbled about the things you gradually mustered the courage to share with him. 
was this even his first time doing this, considering his natural demeanor? does he genuinely think this is something you would be comfortable with?  
in a fit of humiliation and hurt, you frown and let go of your boyfriend’s arm. “iwaizumi,” you start, slicing through the comfortable silence in the room, “why the fuck would you tell oikawa things like that?” you ask with a loud voice, your face growing hot from your sudden display of irritation. he locks his phone and turns his head towards you, a bewildered look contorting his features. he almost seems confused as to why you would be upset at such a thing, which angers you even more. “what’s the problem? he’s my best friend, we talk like this all the time,” he states defensively. he definitely thinks you’re comfortable with it, but you’re mortified. you exhale loudly as you look away from him before returning your gaze to his. “that’s not the point, iwaizumi. i don’t care if you guys know everything about each other, it’s still not your place to casually share personal information about me.” the tenacity in your tone grew as annoyance violently coursed through your body. removing your legs from his lap, you shook your head and faced away from him. iwaizumi felt his patience growing thin with the way you spoke to him, and with your harsh attitude towards him. he straightened his posture and looked directly at you as he spoke, despite your stubborn decision to glare at the wall. “why does it bother you so much, (y/n)? it’s not like oikawa would tell anyone else!” he shouts, growing frustrated with your exaggeration of the situation, “my fucking god, stop overreacting. you always have to fucking act like this and ruin perfectly good moments” he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and rubs his hand over his face in exasperation, failing to notice your shocked expression at his words. you’re not particularly used to iwaizumi growing this angry with you. you cannot conceal how stunned you are at his brash confession that he thinks you’re overreacting. he knows how difficult it is for you to divulge your feelings, because he knows how afraid you are of being shrugged off or taken lightly. in spite of his familiarity with your doubts, he proudly unveiled his lack of respect for your boundaries. why can’t he just admit that he crossed a line? if he didn’t actually care, why would he ever deceive you with enchanting words? 
you quickly get up from the couch and move to stand in front of him. he looks up at you with his hands clasped together in front of his face, irritation building up behind his eyes. “are you fucking serious?” you utter passionately. “i’m overreacting because i’m mad at my boyfriend for betraying my trust? i’m not comfortable with other people knowing those things iwaizumi! how is that so fucking hard to understand?” iwaizumi swiftly stands up with aggression, now towering over you as he attempted to suppress his anger. “watch yourself, (y/n). i’m getting real fucking tired of you talking to me like that,” he snapped, the anger seeping through his hushed tone. despite his words, you continued to make your point fervently. you couldn’t believe that he was being so dismissive when you only wished to explain why you felt so hurt. “really?” you looked up at him, stunned. as you begin speaking again, the volume in your voice elevates. “you don’t even understand why i’m upset! i trusted you enough to tell you everything about me, and you completely ignored my boundaries!  if i wanted oikawa to know, then i would’ve told him. and i don’t give a fuck if he won’t tell anyone, it’s fucked up to just share those things behind my back!” you stare at him, your chest heaving. as your peel your gaze from his and begin to walk away, you mutter, “fucking asshole.”
the moment you tossed the insult at iwaizumi, the air surrounding you seemed to grow tense. any background noise filling the room dwindled into a suffocating silence. immediately after the words left your mouth, iwaizumi forcefully grabbed the top of your arm and whipped you around to face him. “what did you just call me?” his face was contorted into a ferocious expression, and the height of his tone startled you. “let go of me iwaizumi,” you said in an effort to be stern, but your fear and desperation creeped through. when you attempted to shake your arm from his brutal grasp, he simply tightened his hold on you. with your panic growing rapidly, you quickly look up at iwaizumi, distress painted across your expression. he had never treated you like this before, and his sheer rage frightened you. “you’re so goddamn annoying, (y/n)!” he was shouting so loudly that his voice echoed throughout your shared home. “be upset if you want, cause i don’t give a damn. you always blow shit out of proportion and i’m so fucking sick of apologizing to you and acting like i did something wrong just to make you fucking happy.” 
as the last syllable escaped from his mouth, he roughly released your arm, and briskly trudged past your unmoving figure. moments before he reached the staircase, his hand made sudden contact with the wall in a loud slam. the unexpected sound racked your body and caused you to flinch. as he travels up the stairs, his mutters of “fucking bitch” and “so fucking annoying” reach your ears. the house shakes slightly after he forcefully slams the door. you remain in the same position, your mind enveloped in a misty daze. once you finally move to cautiously sit on the couch, tears begin to slide mockingly down your face. 
you couldn’t seem to make any sense of the events that just unfolded. your ever-so-doting boyfriend who never ceased in his proclamations of adoration towards you just sliced through every bit of trust you had for him.
“i’m so fucking sick of apologizing to you and acting like i did something wrong just to make you fucking happy!”
with such bold conviction, he admitted to you that every bit of remorse and gentleness he ever expressed to you after an argument was a mere facade. his devotion to you, and his patience when it came to understanding each of your emotions was ingenuine. you poured every bit of yourself into the relationship, and you left no part of yourself uncovered with iwaizumi. he knew absolutely everything. he knew how you would instinctively draw back from him and hide your emotions if he made a mockery of your concerns. he knew your trust in him would be shattered to useless remains. that’s why he always took great care to assure you that anything you brought up to him was precious. he didn’t want you to hide any part of yourself from him, and he wanted you to trust him entirely. he loved everything about you. after three years of being with iwaizumi, you wouldn’t have ever questioned your ability to trust him. now, you almost regret revealing the deepest parts of your mind to him. he understands you more than anyone else, but he still mercilessly betrayed you. it took him so much time to earn enough of your trust to be allowed past your barriers of apprehension, yet he still dismissed your feelings in the face of his efforts. now, your eagerness to confide in iwaizumi is blocked by doubt, and you face the harsh reality that his tenderness and warmth is forced. he lured you towards him with his endearing presence, just to snatch any bit of alleviation away from you. 
the television show you were watching earlier continues to play quietly. you stand up and walk into the bathroom, gathering water in your hands to quell the redness in your face. after patting your face dry, you recovered from your previous trance, and hunger rushed to your stomach avidly. you search the fridge and begin preparing your food at the stove, and you hear familiar footsteps descending down the stairs. iwaizumi stands cautiously outside the kitchen, and offers a remorseful “hey, baby,” watching as you plate the meal you made. you don’t even bother to look at him as you mutter a dull “what do you need?” 
as you stand in front of the counter, iwaizumi takes the opportunity to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. allowing the feeling of regret to consume him, he rests his head on your shoulder, and exhales loudly. you close your eyes, and lightly grasp onto iwaizumi’s forearms, peeling them from your waist. “tell me what it is that you need, then please go away from me,” placing your hands back onto the counter, you turn your head to gaze up at iwaizumi behind you. he studies your vacant expression, not failing to notice the redness in your eyes and the slight swell in your face. hoping to find the usual love and fondness in your eyes, he sees no sign of either. instead he’s met with a stony gaze of resentment. as much as iwaizumi’s pitiful expression pains you, and as much as you want to let him pull you into a hug, you cannot forgive him so easily. the impact of his actions weighed heavier on you, anyway. 
you turn back around as you begin to feel the slight burn of tears in your eyes, but you blink them away just as quickly as they arose. iwaizumi closed his eyes and swallowed harshly, preparing himself to finally speak to you. “(y/n).. you don’t have any idea how sorry i am,” he begins, slightly uneasy. “you’re the most precious thing in the world to me, and there isn’t anything that matters more to me than making sure you’re always at ease around me.” you turn your body to face him, and the genuine worry and agony in his expression makes your stomach drop. “if you want me to be ‘at ease’ around you iwaizumi, then why did you tell me that you only pretend to care? why did you call me all those horrible things and tell me that i overreact too much?” you ask with a wavering voice, looking into his eyes. “i was stupid!” he pleads, the panic in his expression blooming further, “baby, i was so so stupid and selfish, i didn’t mean a single bit of it and i would sacrifice anything in this world to change it. please don’t ever shut me out,” he places his hands on the counter beside you, “i don’t know what i would do if i couldn’t have every bit of you, please don’t ever hide yourself from me. even if you think i don’t, i always care about every detail. you don’t ever need to doubt that.” his eyes were set ablaze with urgency and an aching desire for your forgiveness. you knew he was truly sorry, but the ability to fully trust him again wouldn’t come so quickly after the damage he inflicted. still, you knew you could at least forgive him. “iwa, you know it won’t be easy for me to trust you again after all the things you said..” you tell him honestly, sorrow in your expression. “please tell me what i can do to gain your trust back, my lovely baby,” he places his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs rubbing your face gently. “i should have never taken it so lightly, and i hate to see you so restrained..  i want to make it up to you.” 
you feel a sense of warmth spread through your chest, and you lean back a bit to face him. “all i want is to know that you’re sincere. i don’t want to be hesitant to open up to you.. please just promise me that you’ll be understanding when i mention things like this to you,” he nods, eager to soothe you by any means. “if you do something like this again, it’ll be even harder for me to trust you.” his hands glide down your arms and gently take your hands, “i promise that nothing like this will happen again.. i wanna know about anything that bothers you even a little, my pretty baby,” he wraps his arms around you in a fervent hug, and exhales in relief at your forgiveness. his heart calms even further when you wrap your arms around him in return. he pulls back to admire your beautiful expression, and leans down to place a wispy kiss on your lips as his fingers faintly travel across your waist. “i love you, (y/n),” he says sincerely, basking in the way your eyes swell with fondness for him.  “i love you too, iwa,” you smile at him, and his own expression brightens significantly at such an enrapturing sight.
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veritas-scribblings · 6 months ago
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heal - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1,191
Come October, Regulus is quiet. Closed in on himself. Almost non-existent. He won’t come out of the bedroom, James says. He’s been shut in there all day and he won’t look at James. 
Sometimes James thinks that Regulus is punishing him for everything that had happened between them. For all the time that was lost. For all the fights that were had. For all the betrayals that occurred on both sides.
James has no regrets. And James has all the regrets. 
James has no guilt. And James has all the guilt.
In October, Lily brings the baby around to visit. He’s not really a baby anymore, honestly. He’s walking (running, really) and speaking in two-to-three word sentences, and he has the funniest little shoes that Sirius bought him and drags a stuffed dragon wherever he goes.
James had been devastated to have missed when little Harry started to really run (or at least as well as a two-year-old can run); he often is when he misses the milestones. So, when Harry begins chasing Regulus’s cat, James doesn’t intervene. If anything, he encourages the behaviour. The cat is a nasty, spiteful little demon anyway. 
‘It’s hard for him,’ Lily says gently. ‘He went through a lot.’
‘We all went through a lot,’ James mutters, frowning. ‘It was war. That’s the definition of war. War is a lot.’
Lily rolls her eyes and takes a sip from her glass of wine. It is Regulus’s wine and he will have a fit when he finds out, but right before shutting down, they’d had a vicious fight and James is still reeling a little from it. ‘Stop being such a little bitch,’ Lily says, her expression entirely reproaching. ‘Callousness doesn’t suit you anymore. Regulus almost died. I think he’s allowed to be a bit torn up about it occasionally. Have you tried…talking to him?’
‘He just ignores me. That’s the problem!’ James groans, looking over to where Harry is trying to crawl under the coffee table to reach Regulus’s little demon cat. ‘Actually, right before the whole ignoring me problem, he told me to fuck off and find someone else to—and I quote—“cast as your trophy husband in your little perfect white-picket fence delusion”. I think he’s trying to break up with me, Lils!’ 
Lily snorts into her glass of wine. Because, of course she does. Regulus might have issues with her, but she’s still always appreciated him for his nasty acid tongue. In some ways, they really are one of a kind, and James occasionally wonders if he has a type.
‘He’s not wrong,’ she says. ‘You have always really loved playing house. Okay, okay, have you tried...just giving him space.’
‘There’s a continent of space between us!’ James exclaims. ‘That’s the problem!’
‘Alright, alright.’ Lily grabs Harry when he starts trying to grab the cat’s tail to yank it out from its hiding place beneath the glass coffee table. ‘Have you tried bitch slapping him, then?’
‘…thanks, you’re such a huge help, Lils.’
‘You can’t force someone to be okay if they’re not, James. You can just be there for them.’
Trapped in Lily’s arms, Harry shouts in protest and starts to squirm around like a fish out of water. He’s a spirited child (a tiny human, as Regulus puts it). Regulus has always loved that about him. That Harry is bold. Tenacious. At times he can be an absolute menace, a quality that Regulus nurtures in him. 
‘I’m just going to…’ James grabs Harry and tucks him under his arm. ‘Give me a moment.’
He races upstairs, Harry giggling and thrashing about excitedly. When he reaches the bedroom, he doesn’t knock; Regulus will not permit him entry if he does. Inside, Regulus sits on the bed staring blankly at a book that is open in his lap. The curtains are drawn, so it’s not like he’d even be able to see well enough to read anyway.
Even in the darkness of his own tiny, private world, Regulus is so beautiful. His hair has grown long recently, the weight pulling his curls looser. James used to love tucking the loose strands behind his ears so he can see Regulus’s silver-grey eyes, so he can see all of Regulus’s face before he kisses him.
And then he realised, after a while, that Regulus lets his hair grow out when he’s not in a good way.
Harry waves exaggeratedly and shouts, ‘Hi!’ because he has yet to work out volume control. He crawls across the bed towards Regulus and perches next to him, reaching up to pat Regulus’s cheek.
‘I’ve come to bribe you with a tiny human,’ James says with a smile. ‘He’s been asking for you, you know.’ 
Regulus sighs and sets the book aside. I’m not in the mood, his expression says. I want to be alone, his expression says. But he, himself, speaks none of this because he’s always so cautious about Harry. So wary of breaking him the way he had been broken as a child. He takes the stuffed dragon that Harry offers him and sits it on his lap.
And then, slowly, he looks up at James. ‘Why am I here?’ 
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, James frowns. Because you lived, he wants to say. There is not a day that goes by that James does not thank every higher power in and out of existence that Regulus lived, because he would he would have died with Regulus otherwise. He would not have been able to survive such a loss. Not intact. Not whole. Regulus would have taken every vital part of James with him.
‘Why am I here?’ Regulus repeats.
James reaches over to stroke Harry’s hair. He wants so badly to run his fingers through Regulus’s hair, but he fears that Regulus will not accept touch right now.
‘Because I want you here,’ he whispers. ‘And I love you. And I hope you want to be here too.’ And I hope, he thinks, that you love me too.
‘Why?’ Regulus asks. 
And James knows what he’s asking: why do you love me? It’s just that James does not know how to answer this. He just does. He loves Regulus because he cannot imagine any other way of being. He loves how gentle Regulus is, how simultaneously fragile and strong. He loves how clever Regulus is. How good Regulus is, how good Regulus wants to be. How brazen and forthright, how Regulus always speaks his mind.  How fussy. How loyal. How intense. How proud. How Regulus’s feet always get cold. How Regulus loves cats because they’re independent and particular. How Regulus is slightly addicted to grapes. How he goes crazy if someone dog-ears his books.
James leans over and gently kisses Regulus’s forehead. The tip of his nose. His lips. A soft, chaste, closed-mouth kiss that he hopes says everything he cannot find the words to say right now and will hopefully be able to say one day. Soon.
He needs Regulus to know. To understand. To feel and believe it. That James wants him here. That James would not have it any other way.
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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago
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Hair disaster
Just a Brain Blah
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Buggy x FemReader + Dee & Bee
Apart of Old Man Series check those out!
Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️
• You all should have known the twins would find trouble- they always did. This was only amplified by their jealousy of the new baby on the way.
• Due to the recent news of your pregnancy (check out here) You had been being watched by Buggy like a hawk, paranoid of all things which made the twins more aggressive in their destructive tendencies.
• So in order to keep the twins busy he had taken the difficult job of letting the twins be his apprentices-
• It was a way to keep them busy, for Buggy to go out to sea for short periods and in Buggy's words 'Teach them to be real pirates!'
• The next morning at breakfast the twins sit down at the dinning room table, Trying to be as quiet as possible and grab some things like they were prepared to run off.
• For the first few weeks they enjoyed it- Till the reality of chores set in. When they tried to throw a fit Buggy was quick to put a end to that and the boys were now just grumpy.
• It had been a week out to sea with the twins before he returned with some spare loot and things needed for the baby. The twins sour faced-
• "How was everything?" You questioned as you sat in the large lounge chair Buggy had gotten you and saw how dirty and tired the three looked.
• "Ask your sons-" Buggy said, However the steeled glare from you made him mutter a 'Our' and that he was going to shower and sleep in the guest room.
• The boys were no better then Buggy as they grumbled as well and climbed upstairs to clean themselves and sleep. Seemed you got the master bedroom to yourself-
• "Whats got you two in such a rush?" You question, seeing that gleam of mischief on their faces and also some guilt-
• "BOYS!!!!" A loud and wrathful yell sounded throughout the cabin.
• "We aren't in a rush mom- Just have things to do since we are 'apprentices' Right?" Dee said calmly as he looked to Bee who grinned and nodded.
• You raised a brow at their words, Going to question them further when a roar sounded through the house.
• You snap your head to look at the boys but see they had already gone- Clearly had run the moment they heard the voice.
• Blonde- So much blonde in his hair- It seemed like half his hair had been dyed in his sleep by the twins. Most likely using Burondo Burondo Oil that Cabaji used in his hair-
• You quickly rush upstairs, Afraid of what you would see and dash into the guest bathroom were you could hear Buggy yelling.
• However nothing would prepare you for what you saw.
•"I-Its pretty-" You try but he glares hard at you, Grumbling and angrily ranting to himself.
• It took every bit of your soul to keep from laughing.
• "Pretty!? PRETTY MY ASS!" He roared as he stomped his foot more and lost his mind.
• "Buggy- It doesn't look that bad I promise" You say grabbing his hand slowly, Knowing he was very mad right night and needed to calm down before he did something he would regret.
• He turned to you like he was going to scream and lose his temper- However he forced his mouth closed and bit his lips in anger.
• "It doesn't look bad Buggy. Besides it looks like it's Burondo Burondo Oil anyway which fades after a few days to the original color. So it's not very permanent" You reason, giving his hand a squeeze.
• Buggy sighs at this- knowing you were right but still angry. You reach out and touch his newly blonde hair.
• "And it looks pretty! Blonde hair goes well with blue eyes" You point out and say cheerfully. Buggy grumbling still but his spare hand just rubbing your unshowing stomach still.
• You let him do this, despite not being in the mood for physical touch. "Better?"
• "Better..." He grumbled, clearly still irritated but better now. You finally ask him to explain why the twins did this.
• "They wanted to revolt because 'being a apprentice is hard!' so I had them sweep the entire deck. Teach them that Mutiny is always punished" He said calmly, a fair punishment by pirate standards as the twins clearly were in the wrong.
• "But since they wanna be petty now- I can do that as well-" He said with a wicked grin.
• Gods help you all..
• Walking down to the docks for some fresh air, you heard the loud laughs of Buggy and the crew. Following the sound you see them all lounging at the docks drinking and watching the Big Top?-
• Getting close you saw it- The Big Top was covered in tomatoes and other random garbage on it like it had been vandalized!
• Rushing over you then see it- The twins on Ropes cleaning off the vandalism. While Buggy amd the crew hand tomatoes and random things throwing it at any spots they felt they missed.
• "BUGGY!" You yell as you see him fling a tomato at his sons head. The Captian turning to look back at you.
• "Oh (Y/N)! Come sit! Join us!" He insisted with a grin.
• "Doesnt this seem too cruel?" You pointed out. Pointing to the clearly pissed off boys
• "Now my Doll, You have been a wonderful mother. But you have spoiled these two rotten! It's time they get a hard lesson" He said as he patted your shoulder and had you sit to watch.
• You didn't know it was possible for two people alone to clean and repaint an entire ship but sure as hell did Buggy have them do it
• It being nightfall when they finished and glaring hard at Buggy- Cleaely this wasn't over. They had lost this battle but wanted to win the war-
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aemondsladywife · 2 years ago
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His Lady Wife : Alternative Ending I
aemond x reader
an alternative ending to 'His Lady Wife' where y/n survives and aemond suffers the consequences of his actions.
a/n: its 3am in the uk rn and i've made you guys wait too long! i am extremely sorry this took so long to write!! i won't even lie, its not the best, i really struggled w these alternative endings, feedback and comments are appreciated as always, my inboxes are always open for requests!! also if you want to be on my permanent aemond taglist, please comment! btw there are more alt endings on its way!
genre: angst
after hours and hours of intense labour, you finally gave birth to a premature baby girl. you were exhausted, but seeing your precious baby girl gave you all the strength you needed in the world. as you cradled your tiny, precious baby girl, your 'husband' came in, with guilt etched all over his face.
"my wife I-"
his eyes fell to his tiny baby girl. his eyes began to water as he spoke,
"is that my daughter?"
you looked at him with cold eyes, your blood was boiling as you placed a protective arm around the daughter you had just birthed.
"no she is no mans daughter. she is mine. only mine. no fucking guards and definetely not yours. she has your white hair and violet eyes but it was not you who carried her 8 months in a chamber fit for a criminal. it wasn't you who had to endure severe pains for the past 8 moons. it wasn't you who pushed and pushed for 9 hours straight. that was all me. you left her mother to die and now you expect to be her father? if you want a baby so bad carry on fucking that whore of yours, you're nearly there!"
aemond looked at his wife with wide eyes. he didn't know what to say or where to begin. her anger was justified. he was about to step closer and speak to his wife when he was interrupted by a maester.
"my prince, may I speak to you in private."
aemond nodded to the maester, with tears of guilt and pain in his eyes as he walked out of the room with him.
"my prince. the princesses labours were... horrific, to put it mildly. as she was not given any support during her tulmtuous pregnancy, her labors were worse than we had ever seen, it is a miracle that she and the babe are alive. it was a whole moon early, she lost litres of blood, the baby was upside down and had to be physically twisted and even now, both mother and wife are severly unwell. please do not take offence my prince... but it is best you give the princess and the babe their space. any further stress could even cause a heart attack."
aemond felt sick to his stomach as he realised what he had put his wife and daughter through, all because he let his self doubt and insecurities get the better of him.
he nods and complies to the maesters words. what else could he do other than wait? he caused enough damage as it is.
weeks go by and aemond can't even catch a glimpse of either his wife or daughter. his heart is overtaken by remorse and longing. he knew this was all his fault, but he desperately wanted to see his baby and his wife who he treated so terribly.
aemond took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his estranged wife's chambers, he has flowers and a dragon plushie in his hands.
you open the door, with your daughter in your arms, not expecting to see aemond at the door.
"husband."
aemond has a sorrowful, sad smile on his face.
"my wife, i know my actions are much beyond forgiveness, i will live the rest of my life in regret for my disgusting actions... but please, give me a chance to redeem myself. i will do anything and everything my love. i have not even held my own daughter. please. i beg you, my lady. let me hold my little girl."
aemond begged you with tears in his eyes. he was desperate. he looked at his tiny daughter in your arms and yearned to hold her. all he wanted was to be a good father and husband.
"i remember feeling this desperate too..."
your words give him a slight bit of hope. he hopes that you pity him enough to give him a chance.
"i felt this desperate when i begged of you to let me go to my fathers and recieve treatment for my pregnancy complications. and what did you do. refuse. and what did i have to do? suffer in silence. now you will do the same."
aemond's entire being became filled with guilt and resentment towards himself, he would do anything for a moment with his wife and daughter.
"please my wife. please. i have not been able to eat or sleep knowing the pain i caused you and our daughter."
you looked back at him with no sympathy and chuckled when you spoke.
"i remember that feeling all too well. i felt the same when you restricted me to a chamber with mouldy walls and food that wouldn't feed a child let alone a woman carrying a child herself"
you were shutting the door on him when he stopped it. he was so desperate, he was begging you with tears in his eyes.
"please. my lady. my lady wife i know my apologies are worthless but at least give this to my sweet girl."
he holds out the little stuffed dragon toy, praying to the gods you would accept it.
"we do not accept gifts from strangers. especially ones who once had ill intentions for us."
with that, you shut the door and left aemond in a state of great despair. in one swoop, he lost his wife and only child. his dreams of being a father had been crushed by his own hand.
taglist: @fultimefangirl @hc-geralt-23 @whatsonthemirror @69cocktimusprime @immyowndefender @burntoutpetals @uselessbutinteresting @bibli0thecary @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @bellameshipper @graykageyama @krispold @malfoytargaryen @imnotyourbcbe @poisonedsultana @caramelcandescence @azaleapotterblack @oh-thats-cute
*tags w a line through didn't work!
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mrs-k0zume · 11 months ago
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𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 || 𝐊. 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 ~
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tryna get another taste but I’m all cramped up
husband! kenma x afab reader, period comfort.
slight nsfw but I don’t think so.
[ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ]
You were in pain. You were twisting and turning in your bed with no luck of getting any sleep. Your eyes burned with heavy tiredness but your stomach was interrupting with the cramping pain as if someone was stabbing your uterus over and over with each contraction. You softly grazed your hand over your stomach to try and calm the smooth pain as your stomach flinched with sensitivity.
Your eyes squeezed shut and a soft groan escaped your mouth out of instinct as there was nothing you could do to ease the pain of the shedding organ that sat in your body. You rolled over with a sigh and reached for your phone in hopes that your husband had called or texted you that he was on his way just to find no notifications, even with the swipe of your finger. No older notifications either. You rolled back over and put your hand over your forehead, knowing that there was nothing you could do to help the unbearable pain that was keeping you awake from your deep slumber.
~
Your eyes burst open the second the lock of the door and the jingling sound of your husband’s silver keys met your ears. You wanted to jump up and give him a tight hug to welcome him home like usual but the fatigue of your shaking body was begging you to stay in bed. Footsteps of your lover echoed in your ear as each step got closer and closer to the room you were in. Your longing for his comfort grew hungrier with each sound he made on his way to the bedroom door even though he was only out for a few hours to attend a boring meeting. You felt the pain in your tired body get a tiny bit numb as you finally made eye contact with the effortlessly beautiful man the minute he opened the door and stepped into the room.
Not knowing what was going on, your husband made his way to your bed and wasted no time to leave wet kisses alongside your neck. The glistening saliva trailed down your neck and onto the silk of the bedsheets as he gave up on one kiss to give another. His kisses became dangerous to the state that you’re in as his teeth fit perfectly in your skin. The small bites on your sweet spot and his slender hands roaming around your body forced you to forget to even ask why he’s doing this. You could tell he had a stressful day at work, but you knew that you couldn’t fulfill his needs and desires from the constant flow of scarlet and the constant feeling of stiletto daggers.
“K-kenma I.. I’m on my period..we can’t do this.. not now.” Words slipped off your tongue and formed a lullaby in Kenma’s ears as he finally heard you speak, but unfortunately your voice didn’t form the words he wanted to hear. His body relaxed itself upon hearing the pain in your voice. His eyes making contact with yours. He never needed to say any words when his amber hues spoke for him themselves. You could see everything in his eyes. And right now you can see yourself reflecting off those beautiful orbs that you fell in love with, and the sorrow and guilt for he didn’t ask of your consent before getting lost in his own desires. “Baby I.. I’m so sorry.” His soft voice spoke.
You brought your hand up to his face once you heard the worry in his angelic voice. He knew you were in pain. He just wished he knew how much pain you were in so he could give you what you needed without needing to ask. He never cared about people. His anxiety took his chances from ever making friends but he never minded that. Kenma was always in his own little world until he joined the volleyball club and met you.
You were just like Hinata. You were easy to talk to and just hearing your voice makes him want to smile. Except when he smiles at you, he smiles with warmth and fondness. Then when he looks at you, his eyes light up with deep affection and intimacy. Now, you’re married. You, married him. You chose him. And you don’t regret a single thing. So when it comes to you, he doesn’t want anything to come in between the two of you, and he doesn’t want anything and especially anyone to hurt you. Kenma would do anything to take that pain away so you didn’t have to suffer like this. There’s nothing that bothers Kenma more than seeing you this way.
Your thumb caressed small circles on your husbands cheek until he pulled you closer to him by the waist. He wanted to stay like this. The warmth of his body on yours felt like heaven to your cramping womb that laid in your stomach. Kenma couldn’t stop himself from playing with your hair that was slightly greasy and oily due to you being in too much pain to wash it. Kenma’s brows stitched together after noticing that you haven't taken very good care of yourself. "Babe? Are you sure you’re alright?" He cupped your cheek into his hand as he spoke so softly that your tears were getting harder to hold back from the melody of your husband’s delicate voice that always managed to pull just the right strings of your heart.
"It hurts." Your voice shuddered with the tears you choked back. Kenma cupped your sensitive stomach with his warm and gentle hands. In pain or not, his touch always made you flinch from how gentle he was with you. The way his eyes would soften only when they were on you and the way he'd treat you like a fragile glass rose as if trying not to hurt you. Kenma always made sure to take so much good care of you and loved you in every way possible. It almost made you want to cry at the beautiful thought that the he could love you so deeply and passionately. "It's okay I’m right here.” Kenma softly whispered into your ear, his warm breath blowed against the back of your ear and easily soothed your irritated body.
He massaged your tummy ever so gently and whipped the droplets of tears that spilled down your cheeks as he whispered sweet words to calm you down. His soft touch and beautiful voice didn't help with the pain but it did help you to the point your eyes gave up and fluttered themselves shut as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Noticing that you were calm and asleep, Kenma held you closer into his embrace that was so warm, if you were awake, you wouldn't want to leave. Your husband closed his eyes. His hair getting messy with every small shuffle he makes in his sleep.
~
The the sun shone through the coquette curtains that hung above your windows and into your still tired eyes. The pain in your stomach didn't feel as bad as yesterday yet you still didn't want to get up to feel that bloody waterfall leak onto the old pad that still needs to be changed. As you had noticed that your husband was no longer in bed with you anymore, you smelled the sweet aroma of pancakes being made in the kitchen. A small smile formed on your tired face and you finally had an actual good reason to get up, other than the fact that blood is constantly flowing from your body and into your full pad.
You sighed and twisted yourself off of your bed that felt so much more comfortable now that you're getting out of it, and slowly stood up, trying your best to ignore the pool of blood that had been waiting to fall all night. You walked slowly, putting one foot in front of the other, feeling more blood fall with each step and walked to the bathroom for a quick heated shower that would hopefully ease the bit of pain that was leftover from last night. You stepped into the bathroom and turned to close the door behind you but before you could you heard a soft yet lazy voice.
"Good morning babe, I made you breakfast."
It was Kenma.
[ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ]
Please don’t mind spelling mistakes. Some of you would notice that some of the story looks quite familiar. Can you guess why?
special mention @ashr0 for I now have the motiv to write a little more and I took inspiration from your aesthetic
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fortheb0ys · 11 months ago
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BOTTOM KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK × TOP MALE READER
☆TRUE LOVE ISN'T MEANT FOR SOLIDERS ☆
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Just some short angst for you, pookies😘 Gaz Nation rise!
CW: angst, talking about death, sex (i wasn't too descriptive with it), not proofread and I wrote this very quickly tehehe
FEM ALIGNED+MINORS DNI
Being friends with benefits was supposed to be a fun little thing. Just sex, no strings or feelings attached. Something to help relieve stress. But to Gaz your relationship with quite the opposite. He loved you when he should have never had.
Even though he promised himself that he'd walk away the moment he felt that feelings were there, he would end it before they grew. He could never keep that promise.
It was never a one time thing. He'd see you in the showers after a mission and be on his knees with you in his mouth within minutes. Or late nights talks under the stars would turn into outdoors sex.
The moonlight shining dimly on two sinful bodies. Gaz arching his back to look at the moon instead of your handsome face. He'd imagine your face if you woke up in bed on a lazy morning. War doesn't ring loudly in your ears. Just you and him. No fear. No guilt.
But what if sex wasn't enough to dull the gnawing emotions. It was always there at the back of Gaz's mind, slowly creeping to the forefront. It's presence became more and more as time progress. Showcasing itself outside of your private time.
Like when he saw how you've became close with Soap. He'd invite you to do things off base, drink or to watch football. Without him. Did you fuck Soap like him? Did you call him 'baby' like you would him?
Questions filled his mind. Knowing he'd never get answers, Gaz pushed his feelings away. You weren't his and never will be, he'd tell himself. To you, he'd be just a stress reliever. If Gaz were to die, you'd never bring flowers to his grave or cry over missing him.
Your gentle thrust ground him to the present moment. He rocks back to meet you halfway. Tears are threatening to leave his eyes. Not from pleasure but simply from the pain the wrecked through his heart.
You'd kiss all over his his face. Fingers tracing over his lips. The loving pecks felt real but they shouldn't be. You look into his eyes and smile. It was so caring and beautiful. Everything about you was. Gaz wished that if he were to die, that you would be the last thing he ever saw.
"What's the matter, baby?"
The nickname coming from your mouth was true heaven.
I love you. Please, I need you to love me.
His heart screamed out. But the words never left his mouths.
"Nothing."
Gaz knew it was so wrong but it felt so right. He keeps his promise for a few weeks than comes right back.
Your bodies fit too perfectly for it not to be fate. Gaz just feels like it's too much of a risk to be together and serve. Servicemen with benefits was better, right? Just sex and no feelings. Pleasure in the midst of war.
Missions were hell. He constantly worried for you. Nearly gotten himself killed multiple times trying to keep you safe. It became such a problem Price seriously debated on separating the two of you.
Gaz should step away. Step away before it's too late. Before sees his beloved dead on the battle. Stomp out the feelings of love before it consumes him.
Gaz always wonder if you felt the same. Did you feel the constant fear that he would no longer be with you eat away at your bones? Did you love him as much as he loved you? Did the way you fuck mean love? You were so tender and gentle, love had truly been there to some extent.
The time to ask never came, though. It would never. Gaz was too afraid if he did that, you'd say, 'Yes'. That his feelings would grow. He was more afraid of that outcome more than if you said 'No'.
Deployment. Fuck. Repeat.
Every night together, Gaz would wake up before to a heart full of regret. Dirty from sex. The smell of it hung heavy over him. The shame faded as you held him close. Your soft snores were the only thing auditable. Just one more time. Tomorrow morning, Gaz would be gone this time. He dosed off thinking of a universe where you could be together without the fear of losing you.
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caramelt4me · 1 month ago
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Secret. - Part V
(Yandere Idol X Kidnapped Reader)
Trigger warning: mention of sexual content, violence, substance ab*se, manipulation, power imbalance, unresolved trauma and angst
·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
Prologue Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V
“𝔽*ck it, let’s just watch The Exorcist.”
Asher declared; his tone as casual as if he were ordering takeout.
He didn’t even spare Nex more than a fleeting glance, already pulling you tighter into his lap. His arm draped over your shoulders with the ease of someone asserting ownership, his breath warm as he purred into your ear. “Iconic, terrifying, and it gives me the perfect excuse to hold my baby tight. Don’t you agree, honey?”
Your ears throbbed with heat, a telltale sign of your flustered state. His amused blue eyes drank it all in, a smirk playing on his lips as if he thrived on your bashfulness.
Nex, perched awkwardly at the far end of the couch, cleared his throat.
His bandaged fingers were fidgety as the pink haired male hunched his shoulders –making him look like a guilty child caught raiding the cookie jar.
“Uh…how about something, you know, lighter? Like Howl’s Moving Castle? Or Paddington? Even Mean Girls?” His voice wavered, hopeful but clearly trying not to let his aversion to horror bleed through too much.
Asher turned his head slowly, the deliberate movement alone enough to make Nex regret opening his mouth. His piercing gaze locked on Nex like a predator sizing up its prey.
“Seriously?” he deadpanned. “You’re afraid of a spinning head and a little green puke? What are you, five?”
“It’s not just about me!” Nex snapped, trying to sound defensive but failing miserably as he faltered under Asher’s glare. “I mean, she might not like horror too—”
“She?”
Asher’s expression darkened in an instant, his icy blue eyes narrowing. “It’s Noona* or Hyeong-sunim* to you. Pick one.”
Nex visibly shrank, his bandaged hands clutching his hoodie strings like a lifeline.
“N-Noona,” he stammered beet-red, sounding like a kid in the principal’s office. “I meant Noona might not like scary stuff either.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Asher’s sharp tone melted away as if it had never been there. A disarmingly warm smile replaced the menace as he nuzzled into your shoulder, making you jolt.
“Besides, you don’t have to look out for my girl,” he said with syrupy sweetness, directing his words at you now, “We get enough romance in real life, don’t we, baby? A little possession and head-spinning won’t hurt.”
You blinked, torn between laughing, crying, or bolting from the room altogether. But Asher’s arms locked firmly around your waist, leaving you no choice but to stay rooted in his lap, acutely aware of Nex’s twitchy discomfort.
“Fine,” Nex muttered, defeated, sinking into the couch with a sigh.
The room dimmed as the movie began, the haunting tones of its score filling the silence. You tried to focus on the screen, but Asher’s grip on you was impossible to ignore. His chin rested on your shoulder, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on your hip in a nonchalant display of possessiveness. It was maddeningly casual, yet unmistakably deliberate.
Meanwhile, Nex was visibly uncomfortable, his eyes darting everywhere but toward you and Asher. Beneath the bandages on his hands, you were certain his knuckles were white as he gripped the cushion tighter, clearly enduring the awkwardness and impending fear with as much dignity as he could muster.
For what felt like the hundredth time, you questioned how this once-postponed movie date for two had spiralled into such an absurd scene.
Your lover—who was seized by a fit of possessive jealousy, shamelessly embracing you just as you were about to honour your conscience, guilt-ridden decision to maintain a respectful distance in presence of his most cherished work buddy.
The estranged maknae—a recovering addict—who was valiantly holding onto his composure amidst a lovesick couple.
And you—your lover’s supposed ex-stalker—who had allegedly groomed him to become a temperamental beast in heat—were caught in the middle of this painfully bizarre situation.
It was almost too much to process for your fractured mind.
The guilt that had weighed heavily on your shoulders mere moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a suffocating wave of embarrassment—first-hand, second-hand, and every kind of hand possible.
You had anticipated something entirely different.
A serious conversation about Nex’s precarious situation, perhaps even a plan. Instead, Asher had swept it all aside in favour of this surreal bonding session.
What had gotten into him so suddenly? you wondered, shifting subtly in an attempt to wriggle free and occupy the open space beside your lover.
But before you could escape, Asher’s arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him with a grip that made it clear you weren’t going anywhere.
“Relax, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr against your ear. “It’s just a movie. Nothing to be afraid of.”
His tone was deceptively soothing, but the way his sly hand slipped beneath your baggy T-shirt to trace slow, deliberate patterns over your navel made your breath hitch.
You weren’t sure if his words were meant to calm you, to tease the already uncomfortable maknae—or both. Either way, the atmosphere in the room only thickened as the movie played on, the tension as palpable as the flickering light of the screen. At least The Exorcist wouldn’t be worse than your current reality.
Or so you had forgotten.
As the eerie background music built to a chilling crescendo, a sudden, heart-stopping jumpscare flashed across the screen. Nex’s timid eyes darted away instinctively, too scared to even close them, his fear of the darkness only making the terror worse. He hated being the third wheel, but his gaze flickered toward you and Asher anyway.
You were not having a great time—trembling visibly as you flinched and shrieked at every scare. At one particularly horrifying moment, you buried your face in Asher’s chest, your fists weakly pounding against his firm torso as you cursed him for putting you through such torment. “I hate you—you sadistic jerk!” you hissed, your voice muffled against his shirt.
But unlike those ‘other’ days, Asher knew not to take your words too seriously. In fact, he was chuckling softly, his smirk as insufferable as ever. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t sorry at all. His large hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he cooed blushing, “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”
The maknae’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than he intended, watching your feisty protest. He decided, grudgingly, that he’d rather endure the awkward spectacle of your lovey-dovey antics than keep his eyes on the nightmare fuel flashing across the screen. But before he could turn his head fully, Asher’s piercing blue eyes darted his way, sharp and deliberate. Nex flinched and immediately snapped his focus back to the screen, the gory scene making his stomach churn.
In his peripheral vision, the pink-haired male caught the faintest smirk curl on Asher’s lips, and then came the words. “See, baby,” Asher purred, loud enough for Nex to hear, his tone playful but unmistakably possessive. “You’ve got me to protect you, even from scary movies. A kiss would be a fair trade, don't you think?”
“Who knows, it might even help distract you—! Mmph-”
It was a shameless trap.
Nex knew Asher was trying to bait him into stealing another glance, but he resisted, sinking deeper into the couch as if to disappear as he became visibly flustered—the soft squelching sound of your lips and Asher’s drowning the eerie background score for his utterly bothered ears.
As much as it seemed like Asher was being possessive, the maknae knew it wasn’t insecurity driving him. His hyung didn’t feel threatened by him—not even a little.
This wasn’t about jealousy.
It was a message, one that Nex understood all too well.
This was Asher’s way of showing how much you meant to him. Not just as someone he loved, but as someone he would protect at all costs. And anyone foolish enough to harm you wouldn’t just deal with his wrath—they’d face something far worse.
It was both a warning and a demonstration to him, painted in smirks and subtle threats, as deliberate and unnerving as the horror film playing on the screen.
The suppressed anxiety churned in Nex’s chest, resurfacing with an unwelcome ferocity.
____
Though the memories of the day he allegedly overdosed were hazy, buried deep thanks to the sedative Asher had injected into him three days prior, the consequences were all too clear.
One high dose had proven too much for his fragile body, leaving him slipping in and out of consciousness, unable to fully grasp his surroundings or his predicament—only catching disjointed fragments of reality.
“Wow, you really did a number on yourself with that drug, didn’t you?”
Asher’s voice, faint and detached, cut through the fog in Nex’s mind. His bleary grey eyes fluttered open briefly, catching a blurred glimpse of the raven-haired male with his back turned, murmuring almost to himself. “What were you doing? Mixing it with cereal for breakfast when I wasn’t looking? Your immune system must be utterly fried up by now to react so sensitively to just one dose (of the medicine).”
The words stung, though Nex couldn’t fully process them. Asher’s tone was sharp, but his actions betrayed a troubling concern. The blue-eyed male sighed heavily as he bandaged Nex’s bruised hands, his motions uncharacteristically careful, almost absentminded.
“I guess it’s better I got to you before the Old Man shipped you off to some real facility,” Asher muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Nex realized that his hyung hadn’t noticed him stirring.
Deciding it was safer to feign unconsciousness, the pink-haired male closed his eyes again, letting his breathing remain shallow and even. Listening silently, he tried to ignore the strange twinge in his chest at Asher’s apparent care.
It was confusing, this softer side of his hyung.
Asher had always been sharp, caustic even, especially after starting to foil his drug dealings a year ago. Tough love—more like a sick joke in Nex’s eyes.
But now, with the disinfectant applied carefully, the bandages snugly wrapped, and his hyung’s hands uncharacteristically gentle, the maknae felt his long-held hatred waver.
That is, until Asher’s voice shifted, his tone as cold as ice.
“But I didn’t think you’d sink low enough to come for my girl,” he said, venom lacing every word. “Really? A few grams of narcotics are all you’re worth?”
Nex felt the shift in the air, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Asher’s hands stilled briefly before he yanked off the old bandages and threw them into the trash with unnecessary force. The maknae barely had time to brace himself before Asher’s hand snaked around his throat, gripping him with a firm, deliberate pressure.
“Should I just end things here?”
Asher’s icy blue eyes bore into him, his voice deathly calm. “Why waste my time trying to tame a snake that shares blood with that woman?”
For a terrifying moment, Nex thought this was it. But then, just as suddenly as the pressure came, it eased.
Asher let go, stepping back and scoffing to himself. “But that would make me the biggest hypocrite,” he muttered, his gaze unreadable as he began gathering the medical supplies.
Before leaving, Asher murmured, almost to himself, “Guess I’ll wait and see if you try to bite me again, Hyeong-je*.”
The door clicked shut, leaving Nex alone.
Hot tears trickled silently down his face as his watery grey eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling. His chest ached, tight with unprocessed trauma and pain, but disturbingly, a faint, bittersweet smile curled on his trembling lips.
How long had it been since Asher acknowledged their shared kinship—even to himself?
Never.
Asher had always refused to recognize their blood relation, keeping their shared secret buried from even the members—forget the rest of the world. And yet, here he was, risking that very old secret to protect a new one—someone Nex hadn’t even met properly yet.
Truly, it made him extremely curious and a bit envious to know more about you.
The person who had managed to thaw his hyung’s icy blues and unravel his twisted heart even if only a part.
Yet, his innocent desire was quickly nipped at its bud, a day before he officially met you.
____
“What do you mean, don’t ask anything personal?” Nex had furrowed his brows, clearly confused. “How am I supposed to get to know her? Or even talk to her?”
Asher, unbothered, had barely looked up from the papers spread across the desk in the guestroom. “Don’t talk, then. Speak when spoken to.”
The curt reply left Nex restless, clutching the blanket around him tightly.
Asher’s sharp blue eyes flicked to him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Too difficult for you to follow?” he added mockingly. “Want me to help by cutting out your tongue?”
“N-No thanks,” Nex stammered, hating how easily Asher’s gaze could unnerve him. Gathering his courage, he pressed on. “Um..what if I am asked a question instead?”
For the first time, Asher’s gaze softened, a faint chuckle escaping him.
Returning his attention to the papers, he said casually, “My baby won’t. And if she does, you’ll know what to say. Just be how you usually are around others.”
The vagueness of the answer left Nex uneasy. He realized, with a sinking heart, that while Asher had dipped into their past connection to keep him in check, it was clear he wouldn’t let Nex use it to his advantage.
It was all about you.
Everything Asher was doing was for your sake alone.
Nex’s chest burned with frustration, bitterness curling around his heart like smoke.
“Why should I listen to you?” Nex finally asked, his voice low and defiant, his grey eyes hard. “You need me. I don’t.”
Cold amusement flickered in Asher’s icy blue eyes as he scoffed, studying Nex’s face with a mix of disbelief and disdain. Rising from his chair, he walked toward the bed, making the pink-haired maknae flinch and clutch the blanket closer instinctively. However, instead of making a move against him, Asher simply dropped a stack of papers onto the bed in front of Nex’s wide, timid eyes.
“Are you sure about that?” Asher arched a brow, his gaze sharp as he gestured for the youngest to look at the scattered documents.
Confusion shifted to shock as Nex scanned the papers. His breath hitched at the sight of detailed medical reports—blood tests, liver and kidney function results—with critical points highlighted in bold red. Interspersed among the reports were photos—clear portraits of familiar faces, grainy CCTV stills, and unsettling images Nex could already tell held damning evidence.
“I assume you can figure these out on your own,” Asher remarked coldly, gathering the medical reports and shoving them closer to Nex with deliberate force. “If not, let me summarize it for you.”
He pinched his fingers together, narrowing the space between them as he smirked. “You’re about this close to a full-blown liver failure. Which, in simpler terms, puts you this close to having one foot in the grave.”
Nex stared at the reports in silence, his mouth dry, unable to form a single word. His grey eyes shifted hesitantly toward Asher, who rolled his own in mock exasperation.
“What? Already losing me?” Asher sneered, the mockery in his tone biting. “And here I thought the withdrawals clearing up might help you think a little better. But hey, what do I know? It’s not like I can pump you with another dose of the sedative without sending you straight into a coma. So, bear with it, will you?”
The frustration in Asher’s voice was palpable, though it wasn’t entirely directed at Nex.
Beneath his cold exterior, an unfamiliar mix of emotions churned—regret, disappointment, and even… fear?
It wasn’t like him to care for the maknae. Contempt and indifference had always been his go-to emotions. Yet, seeing the results of Nex’s self-destruction had shaken something in him.
Not that he’d ever let it show.
The pragmatic part of Asher’s mind urged him to maintain control, to suppress the slivers of humanity threatening to surface. Perhaps, he would have to take the classic route of manipulation and blackmailing without much assistance from the medicine.
There could still be a use of a knight, even if wounded.
Meanwhile, Nex felt hot tears sting his eyes, the overwhelming weight of mortality pressing down on him. The reports painted a picture he couldn’t ignore—his recklessness had brought him to the brink. Even the faintest tremors in his hands reminded him of his withdrawal episodes, each one a stark reminder of how fragile he had become. Before he could stop himself, he reached out, his trembling fingers clutching the corner of Asher’s sleeve.
“Am I really going to die, hyung?” Nex’s voice was raw, his grey eyes glassy with desperation as tears rolled down his pale cheeks. “Please… please save me.”
For a moment, Asher’s cold mask cracked, his icy blue eyes flickering with something unnameable. Vulnerability from Nex wasn’t something he had expected, and for the briefest second, he almost wavered.
Almost.
Shrugging off Nex’s hand with practiced indifference, Asher scoffed, turning his attention back to the papers. “Are you dumb? I said close to dying—not actually dead.”
Nex flinched at the harsh dismissal, hurriedly wiping his tears and cursing himself for breaking down in front of Asher. Of all people, his hyung was the last person he wanted to see his weakness, especially when the latter seemed to revel in it. Still, there was no reprieve.
Asher wasn’t finished driving his point home.
“Now, if your own body shutting down isn’t enough to scare you,” Asher began, his tone sharp, “let me introduce you to the people who would make you wish you were dead.”
He gestured toward the photos of known drug dealers and shadowy figures. “Kingpin, Dragon Kim, Ghost Lee—ring a bell?” Asher sneered. “These are the lovely individuals—the big shots, you had been dealing with. Money in exchange for your stash. Did you honestly think these people played fair? Took me some time, but I recovered the call logs and texts they kept tucked away for insurance. One of them was already on his way to sell everything to the paparazzi before Baek intercepted him. Careless doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Nex’s gaze dropped, his fingers gripping the blanket tightly as shame bubbled beneath the surface. Asher, of course, wasn’t done.
“And this,” Asher continued, pointing to the CCTV stills. “A waitress from the club sipping one of your ‘special’ drinks. Here? That’s one of our fans sneaking into your little party. And this—,” he said with a particularly cutting scoff, flipping over a photo, “—is the masterpiece. You. Passed out in your own puke and sweat. Truly, a sight to behold.”
The image was a slap in the face. Nex stared at it, the reality of his actions crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He couldn’t decide which was worse—the incriminating evidence or the icy disdain in Asher’s voice.
“You really think you don’t need me?” Asher’s voice cut through Nex’s spiralling thoughts, low and dangerous. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”
____
As the end credits rolled, the maknae sat several shades paler, haunted by both the horror movie and flashbacks. Meanwhile, you were flushed and light-headed, having spent the entire runtime making out with Asher. The culprit himself remained full of energy, his lips still trailing over your heated neck with unrelenting passion.
You found Asher’s stamina bafflingly inconsistent.
One moment, he’d be gasping for air after begging you for the sweet torture of your tongue. The next, he’d be ravenously devouring you—over and over—until you were left in a haze of lust and exhaustion.
It had reached a point where even Nex’s awkward, wide-eyed front-row seat to your steamy session barely registered in your mind. As Asher had whispered teasingly in your ear, the maknae was the “uninvited guest” in your home, not the other way around.
So, there was no reason to be polite.
A loud growl from your stomach broke the spell, snapping you out of the trance that even Nex’s wary, pink-haired presence in your peripheral vision couldn’t shatter earlier.
Embarrassed, you bit your lip, feeling heat rush to your cheeks as Asher chuckled softly.
He pulled back, withdrawing his arms from around your waist with deliberate slowness. His proud, mischievous blue eyes met yours, twinkling with delight as he noticed the clear disappointment written all over your face.
“Looks like someone’s hungry for actual food,” he purred, running his thumb teasingly over your bottom lip before planting a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. His lips lingered there, savouring the undeniable hunger for him in your gaze.
Stalker, was it?
Asher would make sure you wore that faux self-accusation as a badge of pride. There was no way he’d let you sink into self-loathing when every thought you had could—and should—be consumed by him instead.
“Nex,” Asher called out, his voice carrying just enough weight to catch the maknae’s attention. His blue eyes flicked toward him as he added, “I heard you make a killer grilled cheese and brownies.”
“I do?” Nex blinked, clearly taken aback by the extent of Asher’s secret info on him. He fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie before stammering, “I-I mean, yeah…”
Asher smiled faintly, turning back to you as he casually smoothed your slightly messy hair with his fingers. “Great. I think we have everything we need, so why don’t you show me how it’s done?”
“S-Sure,” Nex replied quickly, scrambling to his feet and making a beeline for the kitchen. It was clear he was desperate for the excuse to escape his third-wheel predicament, no matter the cost.
Asher gently eased you onto the couch before standing, stretching lazily as he prepared to follow the maknae.
But before he could leave, you cupped his face, your voice low and tinged with concern as you whispered, “I know it’s not my place, but… don’t bully him too much. He already seems shaken.”
For a fleeting moment, Asher’s sharp blue eyes softened in surprise. A faint blush crept across his face, but it didn’t last. With a sly smirk, he caught your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm—a lingering, wet kiss that left you flustered and breathless.
“Fine,” he murmured, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “But I don’t like it when you’re thinking about another man while I’m right in front of you.”
With that, he licked his lips and strode toward the kitchen, leaving you a blushing mess on the couch—completely alone with your racing thoughts.
‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
*Noona (누나): elder sister; *Hyeong-sunim (형수님): sister-in-law; *Hyeong-je (형제): brother
@shadowytravelerlover
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heyidkyay · 7 months ago
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-Five (The End)
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Authors note: The ending! The final chapter of Matty and Mouse's story, my heart is actually breaking. Honestly loved writing these two, as well as baby Teds, and I hope you lot loved them too because all the love this series has gotten means so much, it feels surreal. Hopefully I can write a few blurbs of them or something in the future but this is it for now. So thank you for all the support!
Warnings: EMOTIONS, Matty and Mouse way of thinking, little bit of angst, referencing to past hurts (such as not making it to a certain age), smut, unprotected sex, self-conscious characters?
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
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Matty wouldn’t have been able to say what the time must have been if anyone had dared ask. He’d been propped up against the headboard, still in his t-shirt and jeans, his hand never having fallen from the top of her head even after she’d finally worn herself out and drifted to sleep.
His stomach churned pitifully at the reminder, at how hard she had cried. Gasping and sobbing into that fucking pillow she still held onto, all whilst clinging to the skin of his wrist with an unforeseen strength. As though she’d been pleading in her grip of him, asking him not to go just yet.
That hold had diminished a tad during the night, she’d always been a fitful sleeper– had kneed him one too many times between the legs for him to not know that fact– but this time around… She’d been almost deathly still, aside from the frowning expressions that clouded her face whilst she’d dreamt.
He continued to sit there though, watching on as the moon sunk so that the sun could slowly climb its way into the irradiating sky, giving way to that first hint of morning.
He hadn’t slept a wink, not really. Nodded off for a second or two once or twice before he’d found himself jerking awake again. Couldn’t seem to stay down for much longer than that.
And why would he? When he’d all but destroyed the woman laying beside him. This proud, strong and resilient woman that he’d been so idolised by, so enraptured with. The one person in his fucking forsaken life that had appeared so utterly invincible.
She was a survivor. A mother. A friend. 
And she was kind. Funny. Resilient.
Then she’d gone and met him, hadn’t she?
And he’d ruined her like he did everything else.
Practically broken her. 
Torn the last pieces of her further apart.
The thought alone made him feel sick to his stomach. Aching with this unbound need to grovel and cry at her very feet, to make her see enough sense so that she could understand just how much she didn’t need someone like him. That she was strong enough to do it all alone. That she didn’t need to cling to him as she had, like rust to a buoy long lost at sea.
Guilt.
That was what that sticky feeling growing in his gut was. That overwhelming malady that was eating him up from the inside out, making him feel so utterly sick.
He had come over to see her. So that they might be able to talk things out. He’d come to apologise. To make things right between them. But instead, what had he done?
Pushed.
He’d pushed and fucking pushed, forcing her hand enough so that she had cracked and he’d been able to slip past those high guarded walls of hers.
And now here they were.
He couldn’t bring himself to regret it though– not all of it at least. 
To have held her again… It had calmed some sick twisted part of him. 
To have just seen her and heard her voice, no matter how pained and angry it had been. It was like the world around him had softened for a split second. Become all grainy.
Matty glanced back over to her sleeping form, to the way she had bundled the duvet high up over her head so that the tip of her nose could bury itself in the slight curve it made, her chin tucked away. 
His hand was still lost somewhere in her hair, thumb cascading out over her temple every now and then, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not until he had no other choice in the matter. 
So he carried on, staying there and lying awake. Thinking over the night before. Thinking back to her devastated expression, to the wary look her eyes had held. To the way she hadn’t spoken a word. To how she had simply forced her cries into silent sobs.
Suddenly, he was stuck on the very realisation that she hadn’t been reacting to it all, to everything she’d been feeling, to what had happened, but rather retreating. Hiding away whilst, somehow, still allowing him to be near. To stay. To watch over her.
A soft sniff had him blinking, regaining composure quick enough so that he could catch the scene play out before him. 
I was embarrassed by the previous night's events. By the fact that I had been so determined to keep Matty at arms length and then failed entirely. That he had seen me so weak and well– broken.
But it had all come to a head, I supposed.
I’d been keeping up appearances ever since everything had fallen out, putting on a brave face and a smile for anyone and everyone who could see. It was only ironic, I guessed, for Matty to have been the one to shatter that image completely. 
Still, I swallowed at the sight of him still sitting there beside me the next morning, seeming as though he hadn’t moved an inch throughout the whole night, and shoved all that shame back down. 
“Thought you’d be gone by now.” I heard myself say as I flipped over onto my back so that I could stare up at the ceiling and at the sun drawn lines that stretched out across it.
I listened to his quiet laugh, to the way he shuffled slightly on the mattress, though I didn’t dare look back at him. It was too early and I already felt as though he’d seen enough of me. “Was just hoping for a chance at one of your brews, is all.”
Something in me shifted at his easy words. At the fact that he’d chosen to try and make me smile, instead of calling me out on all my messy bullshit.
“And if I’ve got no milk?” I replied, just because this was easier than arguing anymore.
I felt him shift, probably shrugging if I knew him as well as I thought I did. “Shops open soon enough.”
The corner of my mouth twitched, although I continued my staring contest with the blank space sat high above us. 
“Who says I’ll let you back in?”
He did laugh then, a deep rumble of a chuckle that was rough from disuse and a lack of sleep. Matty sniffed, “Just gonna have to try my luck then, I ‘spose.”
It was only in that next second that I realised something, something that had me inhaling sharply as Matty’s fingers dragged their way through my hair to tuck a frizzy strand behind my ear, before then pulling away entirely.
My eyes slipped closed at the sudden loss and my hands curled into tight fists beneath the duvet at the very thought of him having stayed that way throughout the night. Of having held me in the only way he’d been able to, as though he believed it might have kept some small part of me together. Only pulling away now that he could see that I wasn’t going to crack beneath the weight of everything I still held.
The bed shifted and the sound of his feet hit the floor.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he stood.
Matty moved throughout my bedroom with an ease I didn’t even own, picking up the hoodie he’d thrown over my desk chair all those days ago, the same one I hadn’t allowed myself to touch, let alone wear. 
I almost told him not to take it, but withheld. Only just managing to bite down on my tongue as I watched him shrug it on. It was his afterall.
“Gonna nick your keys,” He told me whilst he shook the hood out around his neck and dragged it up over his tousled curls, “Only be about ten minutes. You can shower or whatever, not worry about letting me back in.”
I could only nod in return and he smiled, pausing in the doorway to look back at me for a second or two before he nodded, almost fretfully, and turned away.
I waited, lying there still enough that I was surprised I didn’t go stiff from how tightly I was wound, until I heard the familiar rattle of keys and then the squeaking hinges of the front door. It closed behind him so quietly that had I not been holding my breath I might not have even heard it. 
I was rubbing at my face not a minute later, hauling back tears leftover from last night's show, before I heaved an anguished scream that was more air than actual sound from my lungs.
Forcing myself to calm– and not dissolve into fucking hysterics– I willed myself up, noting that I was still naked as I kicked the covers away. Another thing I’d gone and bared for him, I supposed. As though it wasn’t enough that I had already cried myself to sleep with him just sitting a hand’s stretch away, but that we’d actually gone and slept together. After everything.
My head was warring with my heart as I dragged myself up out of the dirtied sheets, throwing on an old tee so that I could shove them into the washer before he got back. I forced myself into the shower quickly after, letting the hot water roll off my skin.
I must’ve been stood there for a long while, drowning under the heavy spray, because it was the sound of the door that broke me from the faraway place I’d found myself in whilst staring at the tiled walls.
Blinking, I wiped the water from out of my eyes and forced myself to wash, lathering up my hair and going through the motions, before I finally stepped out. 
I didn’t dare peer into the mirror, not all too desperate to see the state I’d worked myself into on my way out. Choosing to head back into the bedroom instead, padding over towards the dresser to pull out some clean clothes and only noticing the fresh sheets that had been pulled onto the bed when I’d finally dressed.
The towel I’d been holding to lightly dry my hair slowly dropped to my side at the sight. I opened my mouth to call out and probably ask– But I stopped myself before I could. Ask what? I wondered. Why? Then shook my head at the very idea.
Doing the smart thing by shutting my mouth, I dumped the towel in the hamper and pulled on a pair of socks, taking a deep breath before deciding to venture further out into the flat. 
I found him in the kitchen.
He didn’t peer over his shoulder but he must’ve heard me putter in because he greeted me: “I know I said I’d be quick but I passed by that little bakery on my way back– that hidden gem we liked that one time? Anyway, it just smelt fuckin’ devine.” He accentuated that last bit, making me smile slightly, “And I just couldn’t not, you know? Been a while, but they had those danishes you like in the window. Got a couple to share as well as some other bits.” Matty explained, head still halfway in the bag he’d obviously brought back with him, a pint of milk sat alone on the side, “And a sausage roll for Teds– kid was eating them like he was gonna starve a while ago. So I just thought...”
Matty shrugged, as though that in itself was no big deal, him thinking of my son, and turned around to glance my way with a display case of baked-goods now lining my kitchen counter.
I snorted softly at the sight, jerking my chin out towards the lot of them, “Just thought you’d bring back half the shop?” I teased and was all too pleased when he chuckled around the beginnings of a smirk.
He was quick with his quip, “So I’m guessin’ you don’t want one of these danishes then?” 
I narrowed my eyes at the sheer nerve. “I never said that.”
Matty’s nose scrunched with his next shrug before he moved to snap one up for himself. “Sort of sounded like it, sweetheart.”
I shook my head, biting down on my growing grin as I slid across the kitchen to grab at one too. 
I hummed around the first bite I took and all but moaned at the flavour of it, blinking my eyes back open only to find Matty wearing the most delighted little grin. I rolled my eyes but didn’t grant him the gift of an actual reply, though it didn’t seem to waver him either way.
We seemed to move seamlessly around one another after that; him filling up the kettle whilst I placed two mugs down on the countertop; the clink of a teaspoon being shot into one cup as I moved to grab the tin of tea bags; Matty switching the radio on like it was second nature and me smiling away to myself as I poured the milk.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek once we’d finally settled, he’d chosen to take up room at the table whilst I carefully stored the remaining pastries away for later.
I wanted to talk, to try and hash things out again, because this felt right to me. Him being here. In my dingy little kitchen, small but still so crowded with all sorts of bits and bobs, as well as a plethora of crayon coloured drawings. And he just, well, Matty just fit here. Or maybe that was just me hoping. Ignoring the bigger warning signs so that I wouldn’t have to feel so alone again.
Was he lying to me?
Had he relapsed?
Did he cheat?
It didn’t seem like he’d done any of those things. There was no guilt in his gaze and yesterday… I’d never seen him like that. Even whilst stressed or overwhelmed, Matty had never cried. He’d never looked at me like that either, as though he was slowly breaking before my eyes.
He’d said his piece, he’d promised, and then he’d apologised. 
But.
What if I was just making a bigger mug of myself here?
Letting him back in. Giving him my forgiveness. Having him in my bed.
Was I saying that it was okay? Was that the impression I’d be giving? That he could lie and walk all over me and that everything would still be fine.
It left the world feeling a little more tilted than it had been only moments before. It left me questioning everything, once again.
“What are we doing, Matty?”
Matty was slow in looking back over at her, fingers tapping aimlessly away on the kitchen table to some song that had been playing on the radio. 
“What do you mean?”
She huffed, a quiet chuckle full of disbelief rippling through the air, “I mean, what are we doing here?” 
“The fuck if I know.” Matty replied, just as soft as that laughter she’d given him, shrugging at her from across the kitchen. Because what was he meant to say to that?
She just shook her head in turn though, completely unaware to the way he was now watching her. Taking her all in. The way the outline of her body glowed whilst bathed in the morning light that shone in through the windows. Of how her slowly drying hair curled at parts in the easy breeze that crept by. And how endeared he was by the way she never failed to tuck her joggers, or pyjama bottoms, or whatever else she’d decided to throw on whilst at home into her socks. It made her who she was, all these mindless little tidbits that he’d gathered over the last year, that he had observed. 
“We can’t just– move on. Carry on like nothing’s happened.” She sounded frustrated. Sad.
“Why not?” It was almost sarcastic, the way he said it, but his voice held a whole lot of truth to it. He wanted this and he wanted her. And he’d be a fucking fool to deny it. 
And what would the world make of the two of them anyway? Cause she’d gone and claimed the very same thing last night, hadn’t she? 
The pair of them, fools.
“‘Cause everything’s a mess.” She answered back, staring at him now, almost defeated. 
Her shoulders were slumped and she wore that sad smile she often favoured when she was at a loss, slowly being eaten away by a horde of thoughts she couldn’t seem to control. 
He watched her fidget with the hem of her sleeve, peering down at it. 
“Because after everything, Matty,” She breathed, voice soft even in the quiet of the kitchen, “I know that I love you and I don’t want to lose what we have left here. I don’t want that ruined.”
Matty’s mouth worked itself into a small smile as his eyes dragged between her own, trailing over the short scar that crossed the bridge of her nose, remembering the night she’d teared up when he’d reached out to caress it. 
“I’d rather be ruined by you than not have you at all, Mouse.”
She blew air from out of her nose in a soundless chuckle, cheeks rounding around an amused grin for the briefest of seconds before her eyes skittered away from him again. “That meant to be all poetic?”
He gave her a curt nod and then just grinned, legs fanned out before him. “In the job description. Musician, remember?”
“Oh, do I.” She quipped back just as sarkily, leaning against the counter as she continued to watch him from under dark lashes. Matty reckoned he’d let her shove him under a microscope if it got her to let him stick around. If only for a while longer.
A silence passed between them. 
“I love you.” Matty murmured, so sure of that fact, “That much I know. But I won’t ask you for anything more than I already have, you make the choice. You can hold the cards. And whatever you decide, I’ll accept.”
Her face hardened a fraction, as though she were steeling herself for an argument or something other. Hiding how underprepared she’d been for his words perhaps. Matty only hoped that she’d heard the truth in them.
“No fight? You’ll just accept it and leave?”
Matty didn’t dare blink but dipped his head in slight acknowledgement. “If that’s what you want.”
The woman before him just continued to stare him down and for once, Matty couldn’t read her face. Had no idea what the hell she might’ve been thinking. Or feeling. Or what plans she was currently devising in that clever head of hers.
“Okay.”
It took all of his sheer effort not to react to that one simple word, even though she had practically just gone and ripped his fucking heart out of his chest. 
Actually, he supposed that was another lie he’d told. She’d done that months ago, on the day they’d met and went and ruined him for good.
I’d rather be ruined by you.
It’s what he’d said.
He couldn’t go back on it now. 
“Okay.” He answered her, voice just barely above a whisper that he wasn’t sure she heard over the squeaking of his chair legs.
And then he was standing in her kitchen for what he supposed would be the last time. He saw her grip the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, gaze unstraying, but she didn’t say another word. 
They stared at one another for what felt like the longest minute on Earth and Matty could practically feel the ground shifting beneath the soles of his feet as he realised that now everything would really change.
His breath caught, the thought hitting him like a shit ton of bricks and he knew then that he had to leave before he broke down and took it all back. Before he was a fucking mess of a man on her kitchen floor. 
He turned on his heel and made for the door.
“Where’re you going?”
Matty froze, entirely rooted to the floor.
He continued to stare resolutely ahead, scared to move in case she had changed her mind. In case she was saying what he thought she was.
“Your tea’s gonna go cold… and I thought you could pick Teds up with me later.” She was going for nonchalant, aiming and almost hitting, but she missed the mark by just a hair. “He was with Ads yesterday, you know, and she dropped him off at nursery this morning for me. Just figured.”
Matty pivoted on his heel, slow going and hardly daring to steal a breath as he did, before he was looking straight at her. At the way her teeth had sunk into her lower lip, the careful sheen her eyes had taken on, and then the singular strand of hair which had fallen from behind her ear. He was across the room and on her in a second. 
Firm hands held her face, thumbs guarding either cheek as he bored everything he couldn’t seem to say into the next look he gave to her. Wanting her to see it all. To know, or simply understand.
“You’re gonna kill me.”
She laughed.
“Wanna bet…” Her words trailed off into a heavy breath and Matty could feel the strength of his grin as he leaned in close, nose bumping against hers, his eyes flickering over the entirety of her face, attempting to take her in all at once.
There was buzzing under his skin, he could feel it in the tips of his fingers, all the way down to his toes, and heard the way it hummed throughout his chest. 
It was then that he realised he couldn’t see an end without her in it.
He wanted everything with this woman. 
Everything.
And that should’ve been the most terrifying thought.
Because once he had believed he would never see the end of sixteen, puking into the bushes outside his bedroom window and not having the strength to make it that extra mile. To let mum know that he was alright.
Then it had been nineteen, that first real stint in hospital. He’d been scared to shit and alone, the darkness hiding all the groans and upset of the other patients with real issues.
But nineteen had come and gone, so then he figured twenty-one. Maybe twenty-two? Definitely twenty-five… Had to be.
Twenty-eight had been both the end and the beginning for him. 
But even without everything that had been holding him back after that, the drugs, the people, the money. After he’d gotten clean– proper clean– he’d never really thought far enough ahead. 
To a point where he might feel settled or want to start building a place for himself in the world. A real place, one amongst family and friends, not just amongst admiration and music– as much as it had helped shape him.
He’d never once pictured this. A person. 
Girlfriends? Yeah. Flings and one night stands? Sure. But a person that would be his. Completely. That he could share half of himself with?
No, he couldn’t say that he’d ever seen that coming, that something like this would have one day been in the cards for him.
And Matty wanted so badly to sink his claws in and cling on for as long as he possibly could, for as long as she’d be willing, and then even more so. Until somebody else came along and inevitably unhooked him. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. Because this was too perfect to go and destroy like that. 
He’d always claimed to be a selfish man, but in this regard, all the love he had worth giving would be spent on her. On the days they’d spend together. On meals and dates. On flowers and apologies for when he eventually messed up again, because he knew himself too well to deny that fact. He’d spend it on giving her security, on rebuilding her trust. He’d spend it on her son. On the little boy he’d become so besotted by.
And if it ruined him, if it killed him? He reckoned he’d be okay with that.
He’d be content. Finally having something to be proud of.
“What are you waiting for?”
Matty eyes tracked the length of her face, fingers tangled in her hair whilst his thumbs pressed into the grooves of her temples. What was he waiting for? 
As soon as he thought it, Matty was pressing against her once more, stealing all the breath from her lungs in his haste to answer her.
It was slow, the kiss; soft in the way his lips captured hers for only a few seconds before he was pulling away again, hands shaking where he still cupped her cheeks.
He wanted to make sure that this was what she wanted, but he could see it in her face, that surety, the warmth. And he wouldn’t question that, maybe in some regards he’d be willing to give her anything, but here and now, with this, with wanting her, he would as selfish as he fucking could be. He’d take all that she would give him.
The next kiss was full and deep– urgent.
Matty’s tongue slid into her mouth, hands falling aimlessly away from her face to whatever part of her he could touch, feeling no ounce of remorse over it seeing as she was on the exact same journey, her fingers winding their way up and over every inch of him. 
She kissed back with just as much force, colliding with him in a way that almost felt tortured, as though trying to make up for all the time they had wasted. Not just over the past few days, but the weeks and months they’d spent dancing around one another, pushing and pulling. Despairing this game of tug of war they had started. 
It ended here.
Matty continued to lean up into her, pressing her into the counter as she clawed at the hoodie he wore. Matty felt her nails catch on the skin of his back, whilst he wrapped his arms around her hips.
“Baby,” He whispered breathlessly and then moaned when her mouth closed around his bottom lip, teeth grazing against the flesh before they then bit down. She rocked into him and Matty swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 
He reached up a hand to cup the back of her neck so that he could mouth his way across her jaw and down her collar, favouring the skin just beneath her ear. “Need you.”
It was both an admission and a plea.
And then she was grabbing at his face too, forcing his mouth back up to meet hers, breath sweeping over the cut of his jaw. She tangled her fingers in his curls and Matty had the barest second to register that he was actually staying. That she was letting him back in.
His body jolted forward on impulse, arms snaking their way around her waist to splay out over her lower back, pulling her that much closer. Her hold tightened too, hand moving down his neck, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point there. 
Matty stepped nearer and she welcomed him in, legs parting to let him step between them, kiss turning hungrier as she arched her back up and away from the countertop. He wanted all of her.
She let go of his hair to press in harder, pulling back only so that she could lick his mouth back open and drive her tongue inside. She murmured his name against his lips, once, twice. And then Matty’s hand was between the blades of her shoulders and holding fast. He moved, spinning them outwards, over towards the kitchen door.
She let out a sharp sound that was half gasp and half moan, but all love and desire when they knocked into the arm of the sofa in the living-room and fell back against the soft cushions. 
When they broke apart it was only out of necessity, the need to catch back the breath that had been forced out of them on their tumble down. They shared an airy chuckle.
Then he watched on as she stretched out further up the settee, fingers caught on his wrist so that she could tug him along with her. Their hips aligned as Matty crowded her again, elbow digging into the chair's arm to hold him up above her. He hovered there, their faces and foreheads pressed together, noses lined up side by side. Matty wished to savour every detail of her.
He kissed her again, slower, softer. His lips moved against hers so gently that it was almost reverent, worship-like, and she matched him toe for toe, pouring her whole soul into it, gifting him all the sweetness that she possibly could. 
Matty prayed to whoever might’ve been listening that he could have this.
He supposed someone must’ve heard him because she said, “Stay,” in this careless whisper, in a tone that was more breath than anything else. And his heart stopped.
And then he was nodding. Almost frantically.
He kissed her, the tip of his nose brushing the underneath of hers as he lifted his head to nod one more time. “Long as you’ll let me.”
She whimpered and he groaned, forehead pushing against hers once more as she lifted her hips up to meet his. 
Then they were both lunging for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at their clumsy eagerness to get undressed, the sofa being of no help.
Matty pushed back to sit up for a moment, luring her up gently with him so that he could slide her shirt off over her head. She returned the favour, letting him trail a finger over the curve of her shoulder and down her arm once they were done before she was on her back once more. 
“So beautiful.” He felt the need to whisper, even though there was no one else around to hear it. She glanced away.
Matty wouldn’t have that though, a careful hand coming up to coax her eyes back to him, hoping that she would hear the sincerity in his words. She was the best thing he’d ever seen, no matter the time of day. No matter how horrible she felt. He’d never been so enamoured by another person, or so utterly lost in his desperate need to make it known. 
His thumb caught on the corner of her mouth and he smiled. “I meant it.” He assured her and felt her shiver beneath him as his words fanned the skin of her cheek, “Beautiful.”
She swallowed thickly, he saw the bob of her throat before he slid his palms down her sides to unhook her bra, dropping it off to the side so that he could mouth along the length of her torso.
He continued to murmur, tone so full of admiration as he attempted to press the words into her skin, hoping that this way they would somehow sink in.
By the time he reached the hem of her trousers she was writhing beneath him, eyes pleading, so Matty made quick work of ridding them, allowing himself to look her over for just a second. She truly was beautiful. 
“Matty,” The sound of his name forced his eyes back up and he was thrown by the dazzling smile she then wore. She took one of his hands in hers, linking their fingers, “I don't have all day, baby.”
He merely shook his head and laughed, figuring that she must’ve seen the many emotions that played out across his face afterwards because she tightened her hold on his hand and motioned him closer so that she could kiss him again.
He took her there on the settee. Worked her over slow and hard, his gaze only ever wavering when they slipped shut or he buried his face alongside the skin of her neck. His hands wandered whilst hers clung tight, leaving him marked and gasping. She murmured the whole while, legs wrapped around his middle to keep him as close as she possibly could, so that he could drive that bit deeper. Matty had never heard her so vocal, just muttering on and on, only ever stopping to cry out or jolt. But even then her words would either come out all warped or in a sharp shout. It only proved to spur him on though, fingers digging in and bruising the soft sides of her hips and thighs.
He could hardly think, listening to her pleads and commands. Such a demanding little thing. 
The heels of her feet dug into his flesh as her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, holding on, sinking her nails into his skin deep enough to have him hissing. He didn’t dare tell her to let up, just attempted to pick up his pace, hand falling away from the crease of her thigh to drag along her folds, needing her to let go before he could.
“Close?”
He was met with a choked gasp: “Yeah.” Followed by a cascade of assent, breath wetting the cut of his jaw as her hands jumped up to curl themselves along his shoulders.
Matt felt himself nod, but was hardly even aware of it, gaze trained on her face, the watering of her eyes, the pink swell of her lips. “So good for me. Don’t deserve you.”
His words just made her strengthen her already too tight hold and then she was writhing beneath him, tear sliding down the side of her face just as her head tilted far back against the cushions and she moaned.
He wasn’t far behind her, but she continued to work her hips to the best of her ability whilst his thrusts became more and more desperate. He only noticed that he was clenching his teeth when her fingers came up to thread through his hair, slackening the muscles there in his face just as his head fell forward, hovering a centimetre or two above the dip in her collar.
Matty felt lips press against the side of his head, soft but there. “I love you.” She said, and he couldn’t even respond, lost in the sensations that overwhelmed him as he jolted forward, every muscle in his legs tensing as his eyes slammed close. 
His breathing was harsh and laboured when he finally managed to pull out, falling into the little space she created for him on the side of the sofa. He draped an arm over her middle, not giving much thought to the damp sheen on their skin or the mess between her thighs. They could have this for a little while longer.
Matty hid a smile, nosing along her shoulder as he better settled into his position before he kissed the sweet skin there. Her back was to him now, him wrapped up around her body, their legs entangled, and he thought back to those few words of hers. 
Back to that night she’d first said them. 
To when she had last said them.
He started to trail a finger over her side, up and then down before he decided to trace each letter one by one. He heard her huff a laugh when she finally caught on, but he pressed on, writing more.
When she patted his hand and shifted, he frowned, wondering if he’d pushed too far, too quickly, even though she’d been the one to say it first. But she just rolled around to face him and grinned at the face he must’ve worn.
“You’re an idiot.”
His brow pinched but he still felt himself smile, “What?”
She laughed all lovelylike and he blinked at the sweetness of it, wondering when he’d gotten so used to hearing such a pretty fucking sound. 
He poked at her side, prodding, “Go on, tell me.”
With a fond roll of her eyes, Matty watched the stretch of her smile  soften before he stilled slightly at her slow touch, the drag of her finger which trailed over his stubbled cheek. “Just such a you thing to do.” She teased him quietly, fingertip reaching up to skim over the bridge of his nose and then his eyelids.
Matty shrugged, narrowing his eyes a tad but unable to truly hide the small smirk he was wearing. He moved his hand back to her hip, tracing another word that had her huffing and shaking her head in sudden exasperation. Then another. And another.
Her eyes were wide when he chanced a glance up at her and she swallowed at the earnest expression he gifted her. “I mean it.” He whispered into the tiny slot of space that rested between their heads.
He watched as her stare tracked along his face, flicking from one eye to the other. “How can you be so sure?”
Matty shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed up against the settee, a small smile dancing on his mouth. “Never been sure of much, but I know this.”
She quirked an eyebrow, “This your way of askin’?”
Chuckling lightly, he shook his head in turn. “Nah, gotta think of something good. Big.” He grinned at the snort she gave, but continued on anyway, fingers simply brushing against her hip now, “Figure we need time to get there again, sort through this mess.”
“Again?”
Matty hummed, thinking back to the bout of songs he’d been working on over the last few months, to the days G had smirked and asked about some of the lyrics he’d written down. “Been playing on my mind.”
There was a small curve to her brow now, an almost frown but not, Matty knew her well enough to know that she was just a little thrown by his answer.
“How long?”
Her whispered ask had him thinking, but he couldn’t really give her an exact time span. He’d hardly even realised it himself. “I don’t know, but for a while.”
She breathed out a quiet little laugh, eyes darting between his own once more, “So one day then?”
Matty hummed happily, face breaking into a slow going grin as one of his hands came up to cup her face, thumb soothing her cheek. “One day, Squeaks,” He murmured to her, “I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.”
Her cheek warmed beneath his touch but she laughed, shaking her head ever so slightly whilst her eyes looked down before shooting right back up again. “You’re gonna regret that.”
Wrinkling his nose a tad and curling his upper lip, Matty just shook his head, “Nah, don’t reckon so.”
“You say that,” She all but sang before she was kicking up a storm in his hold, quickly trying to get away from the hand that had come up to run a rhythm down her side, tickling her into shutting that daft mouth of hers.
“Yeah, I do fuckin’ say.” Matty chuckled, grinning madly as he continued to grab at her, teasing her bare skin with his tormenting touch. It was with that in which Mouse went sailing, rolling away from him in an attempt to escape, and dragging Matty with, him still so caught up in her that the pair of them went tumbling to the living-room floor.
Matty felt as though all the air in his lungs had been kicked from his chest once the world had stopped spinning and finally righted itself. He realised all too quickly what had happened, a heap of hair splayed over his face as he spluttered. 
“Fuck.” He managed to drag out, forcing a huffy laugh from his chest.
He watched on as she struggled for a second, him having cushioned her fall, and she pushed up onto her palms so that she could glare down at him, not entirely unhappy. Matty snorted and raised his arms in defence.
“Don’t blame me.”
If it was at all possible, her eyes cut sharper. “The fuck I won’t! Why’d you start tickling me?”
“Because you never know when to shut up!” Matty laughed, wheezing a little as he did and bending a knee so that he could plant one foot firmly on the floor, his hand rested on his chest.
She just rolled her eyes though as she battled to sit up, spine curving once she had. Matty reached out to trail the length of it, pulse jumping at the shiver he watched run through her.
“How’d we even go from you being such a sap to us on the floor?” Mouse huffed, reaching up to grab at a throw that had been resting on the nearby armchair. Matty watched through a lazy gaze as she bundled it into an oddly shaped ball of sorts before turning back to him. “Fucking all sticky now too.”
He smiled stupidly, folding his hands behind his head, unashamed as he was, to better protect it from the hardwood floors.
She stood with a roll of her eyes, on unsteady legs mind– something Matty felt all too pleased with– and caught sight of his smirk, and before he could even see it coming the bundled blanket was being thrown at his head. He yelped girlishly and floundered to shield himself from it but it still managed to catch the side of his face with just enough force. 
He listened to her hearty laugh as he tossed the thing back at her legs, frowning when it missed and her footsteps began to trail away. “Oi, where do you think you’re goin’?”
“To shower!” She called out from over her shoulder just before she could disappear through the doorway, “Again!”
Matty huffed a small snicker to himself and resorted to simply staring up at the ceiling whilst he waited, but before he could get too comfortable there she was calling out to him again.
“So you coming or what, Healy?”
And fuck if that didn’t have him scrambling up off of the floor to join her. He smiled when she merely laughed at the eager sight of him rounding the hallway and he found himself wondering how the fuck he’d managed this as she turned on the tap and pulled him under the water with her.
He must’ve seemed a little out of it though because she was tilting her head at him when he peered over at her, her hands at his hips. “You good?” 
Matty hummed quietly, dipping his head to kiss her once more because he could. “Yeah, just happy.”
And wasn’t that a thought. Him happy.
Mouse grinned at him, eyes lighting up with it as he stepped on closer. Her hold tightened, “Me too.”
Me too.
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soup-du-silence · 2 days ago
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I've been meaning to do a rec list for a while as part of an initiative to be more proactive about the kind of slow depreciation of fic culture in fandom, as well as being better about leaving comments and second kudos, so here are a few of the TWST fics I've enjoyed this past year
Overthrown | T | JamiKali | 1.5k words (complete)
By @thatgirlonstage
Silk City has become discontent with the Asims. Despite everything, Jamil has never wanted Kalim dead.
This is my favorite JmKl fic. Yeah its 1.5k words. Yeah it’s barely shippy. But it’s such a perfect, condensed encapsulation of who they are, the elevator pitch for the ship, imo. It boils it all down to its essence: Kalim’s unwavering optimism, Jamil’s betrayal, their enduring loyalty.
Jamil’s Expressions, As he Dances | T | JamiKali | 1k words (complete)
By thatsrightdollface
“Kalim watches recordings of the gift performance.”
Short, soft and very sweet. Kalim watches recordings of the GloMas performance to see Jamil, has Kalim-typical thoughts about him.
Borrowed Time | E | JamiKali | 44k words (complete)
By Lalaen
Crowley announces a fun new event he’s already put into motion - Parents’ Tour! Jamil needs to host the Al-Asim at Scarabia dorm, and hide what happened during his overblot, and pretend he isn’t sleeping with Kalim. Not to mention keeping Kalim - no, their entire dorm from letting anything slip.
While I don’t agree with his characterisation of the Asim family, I’m in this one for how horrible and ugly Jamil is. He’s just simmering with disgust and loathing and its very delicious imo. This one played a big part in my own “Oh Kalim likes the brainwashing, obviously” headcanons. Also Rook and Vil are there helping Jamil find his footing! We love the Scarabia/Pomefiore friendship in this house.
I Need You To Be Okay | M | JamiKali | 6k words (complete)
By Lalaen
It’s just Jamil’s luck that the one time someone tries to poison Kalim at school, he ends up getting hit with the full dose. Stabilizing Kalim is something Jamil is used to. Unfortunately, Kalim isn’t good enough at alchemy - or controlling his own trauma response - to return the favour.
Sickfic basically, featuring Jamil being stubborn, Kalim regretting, and RookVil assisting.
Honestly I think all of Lalaen’s stuff is worth checking out so be sure to click through to his profile.
Scales of Contrition | T | JamiKali, LeoKali | 52K words (ongoing)
By Pareidolia
“Jamil returns to the Scalding Sands after a decade. Time doesn't stand still.”
This fic has everything I would normally filter out of my searches: Jamil or Kalim shipped with literally anyone else, those ships with biological babies…but it works and it’s good. Lots of really good world building, political stuff, angst and pining and drama. Missed opportunities and the consequences thereof. The Asim legacy and what it means for Kalim now that he’s a father. Jamil trying to figure out where he belongs. Leona being Leona. (there’s also a second ongoing fic that documents Leona’s POV, be sure to check it out)
The Hungry Heart, The Roving Eye | T | LeoRuggie | 5k words (complete)
By @thatgirlonstage
Five things Ruggie stole from Leona and one thing he gave back.
What it says on the tin! I feel like there’s not a ton of LeoRuggie fic that’s like……sweet? Because Leona is the way he is. I imagine he makes it difficult. But this one is really cute and I like it a lot.
How to Ruin Yourself | T | LeoRuggie | 190K words (ongoing–abandoned?)
By apple_fairy
Your name is Ruggie Bucchi. You are a no-good, lowdown hyena from the slums of the Sunset Savannah. You are quick-witted, prideful, a terror, and a young boy just trying to survive the world. You bend your morals where you see fit, break the world to ensure your survival. You do not suffer from guilt, but only the idea that the world owes you overdue payment, and that you had a right to live just as anyone else does. You laugh where you can. You don't show anyone your tears. His name is Leona Kingscholar. In the beginning all he had been was a prince from the royal family, a name whispered in the markets, a faceless thing for you to hate during your hungry nights. It all begins when you finally meet him at Night Raven College. This is how you ruin yourself.
I grabbed this one off of Hilling’s rec-list and jumped into it without looking at the stats and the first chapter knocked me on my ass and then I quickly realized it was 190K words multichap and hadn’t been updated in 2.5 years, so. Oops. I looooove the prose, great world building and Ruggie characterization, and its second-person(!!!!) and I think it's got a lot of really really great stuff in it! (also it 100% needs an M rating) But I ran out of steam on it somewhere around chapter 16 and I think there are few ways to tackle this fic:
Read chapter one for how they meet, how they connect, as a sort of character study, and stop
2. Read a few more chapters to see how they become a couple, and stop.
3. Read up through Leona’s overblot, see how that affects their relationship, and stop.
Or
4. Continue reading as it was meant to be read, up through the current updates. (I haven’t done this. I lost interest. I very much like the concept that they have a brief, intense fling, become obsessed with power, and it all collapses. It could have ended there and been great, imo, but it’s clear the author wanted to follow them through the rest of the game)
Night Sculptor | E | LeoRuggie | 7k words (complete)
By shoeburn
This room, door locked, lights dim, belongs to the two of them alone. This is where Ruggie belongs. He wants Leona to belong here too.
Doomed LeoRuggie smut. Just fucking SAD, man. But good.
Unexpected Proximity! | T | FloRid | 15K words (complete)
By elo_quentalias
On an otherwise routine trip through the Hall of Mirrors, an unseen student pushes Riddle into a coffin — along with Floyd Leech. Riddle is about to discover just how far his work-in-progress patience can possibly take him.
“Two characters trapped in a tight space.” This is one of those ships that when they interact in canon Im like “hell yeah i get it” but they dont take up too much space in my mind otherwise and I havent found much good fic that helps solidify it as something possible, they always kind of show up in the background of other fics as a love/hate jokey thing. This is a good one though, Riddle has to test his patience and so does Floyd, and it forces them to meet in the middle.
Such A Funny Way to Fall | E | TreyCater | 6k words (complete)
By undeuxtreycater
Trey walks in on Cater having sex. Cater makes sure he does it again.
I do not give two farts about this ship but this is good smut to me. And everything else they’ve written is also good smut about ships I don’t care about. And it’s all they have. And I’m like 95% sure this is a side account just for someone’s TWST porn and Im really fucking mad about that because they have NO bookmarks and an empty bio and how am I supposed to see what else they’ve written?? Why would you do this to your readers? It’s just mean. Anyway Cater’s a whore check it out.
Lavendar haze | T | LilIdia | 3k words (complete)
By la_nuit_porte_couseil
“How is it possible that you have been alive for untold decades yet you’ve never been high?” aka Idia encourages Lilia to try smoking weed. It gets gay.
I don't think the characterization on this one really hits (in op’s defense it's two years old and we had significantly less Lilia then) BUT it's like a really elaborate shit-post with some turns of phrase that live rent free in my brain, worth reading for that alone. I might take “I finished all my panic attacks” with me to my grave.
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novankenn · 6 months ago
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Nora in : Tea with Jaune's family... Story-Time
"In a time before antiquity, a lonely young woman sat trapped, impressioned in a tower by her father. The once kind man, had shattered when his wife, the mother of his daughter passed while giving her birth. Obsessed with keeping her safe, he locked her away from the world..."
Nora: Wait... this sounds like that fairy-tale! The girl in the basement?
Nora: It's the Girl in the Tower!
Nora: So you are REALLY telling me a story.
Nora: Would you just listen! This is important!
Nora: Well can we get Bob to bring some finger sandwiches, or cookies? This is going to be long isn't it?
Nora: Okay. Bob!
Bob the Beowulf sticks his head in through the door.
Nora: Bob could you get us some cookies and pastures, and some hot chocolate, please?
Bob(Beowulf): *Yip
Bob's head vanishes back through the door.
Nora: I like Bob. He's nice.
Nora: Yes he is. Very well mannered, and extremely focused on his duties. Did you know that Bob is the FIRST ever Grimm to earn a doctorate in Butler Sciences?
Nora: How did he do that? He couldn't have gone to a normal school.
Nora: Correspondence courses.
Nora: Makes sense.
Nora: Anyway, while we wait for refreshments, I shall continue...
"So trapped behind a magical barrier, unable to leave the girl suffered. Her father cold, and caring only of her as a possession to keep safe, locked away from the world. So she started to wither, and it was only through her nanny and the books did she know of the outside world."
"But her reading gave her a taste for life. A desire for adventure, and by accident she discovered she could send tings pass the barrier that kept her trapped inside. So armed with ink, quill and paper she convinced her father to allow her access to, she started to send messages... seeking someone to save her...."
Nora: Is there a point to this fairy-tale?
Nora: Yes, there is.
Nora: Can we just get to it? I appreciate the build-up and the attempt to get me interested, but you're me. You know.
Nora: Yeah, your right. Okay, so the TLDR is that Grandma-ma Salem was the girl in the Tower.
Nora: Is that true?
Nora: Yes.
Nora: Well if it is true, she looks astoundingly good for someone older than dirt!
Nora: Anyway the rest of the TLDR is that Ozpin the Headmaster is the reincarnated soul of her rescuer, lover and husband.
Nora: Okay?
Nora: They got married, he grew ill and died. She tried to cheat death by conning the brother Gods... it failed, and in a fit of depression she threw herself into a pool of grimm goo.
Nora: She obviously survived.
Nora: Yes. Anyway Ozama, which was Ozpin's original name came back and the two fell in love, had four beautiful daughters... but Salem wasn't happy. After all those years alone, watching humanity rebuild she grew just a tad power hungry... and decided the best way to help Remnant would be to rule it.
Nora: So Ozpin... er Ozma thought differently and they fought didn't they?
Nora: Yes, they did. Salem attacked Ozama when he tried to leave during the night with their daughters.
Nora: No...
Nora: It happened...
Nora: NO! THIS IS A STUPID STORY! I DON'T WANNA...
Nora: Nora... this is the main point... in that clash of magical energies, one of their children was flung through time... that girl was Jasmine, Jaune's mother...
Nora: Now I'm getting a headache. So Jaune's mom is Salem's real daughter, meaning Fearless Leader... MY Jaune-Jaune is directly related to the queen of the Grimm?
Nora: Yes.
Nora: Question?
Nora: Yes?
Nora: Is this a universal constant like us?
Nora: Yes, it is but the problem is Salem and Jasmine don't know the other is alive, so it takes... Outside forces to get them to connect.
Nora: Forces like US!
Nora: Exactly!
Nora: But how does this all work? Like Queen of the Grimm just giving up, because she has great-grand-babies?
Nora: Salem has eons to fester with guilt and regret. Finding Jasmine opens her wounds, allowing love to finally touch her heart, which you know as well as I do the Arc's are masters of showering someone with love.
Nora: I do.
Nora: So do you understand? The ned for you and Jaune to have children?
Nora: So Salem has something else to occupy her time?
Nora: No, to fill her life with a loving family that will withstand the tests and trials of time.
Nora:...
The library door opened and Bob the Beowulf entered pushing a cart loaded with sweet pastries, cookies and a steaming kettle of hot chocolate.
Nora: Thank you Bob. Can you go ask Salem to join us?
Bob just nodded and padded off, leaving the two alone.
Nora: Question, does Jaune know about any of this? Because this seems like a BIG deal, and Jaune should know about it. Like it's not everyday you find out you're directly related to the big bad who controls all the grimm in the world!
Nora: To be honest... I don't know if he does... but you're right he should.
Nora: You think we could do the whole snatch and talk to him here routine you've been using on me?
Nora: Don't see why not.
(Master List)
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