#why make him constantly apologize and have to give way when he's done like. nothing wrong

[florallylly]

sorry queen but a cheater is a cheater is a cheater and that's not a label i easily let go of

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 15

content warning: more angst, mentions of food, mentions of underage drinking and recreational drug use, some suggestive convos but nothing too crazy

word count: 6.4k (@slushycoookie thee wife, thee beta 🩵)

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“Does it show anything different?”

“Will you give me a second?”

GymRat!Miguel who was currently sitting at his desk, bouncing his leg while he waited for Tempest to tell him something good.

“It’s honestly looking like the same thing from last night. And the week before. And the week before that,” she deadpans through the phone.

Miguel turned and pressed his lips to his palm.

His call list was a constant cycle between his friends back home and Gabriel, but mostly Tempest, who has taken the role of checking for any updates from you online.

So far, all he’s gotten out of this was pain. You’ve completely removed anything that involved him from your pages. No anniversary pics, no highlights, no emojis in your bio to refer to him. From how Tempest put it, this was a huge deal.

“Look,” Miguel slumped as he geared himself up to listen to the same speech she’d been repeating. “I know you don’t want to hear this- don’t make that face! - but I think it’s time to give up or try something new.”

“It’s been forever.”

“If your definition of forever is a little over two weeks, then sure!”

“I just thought that,” he paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“That she would bend at your will? You’re cute, but not that cute.”

“No, that’s not- Temp,” Miguel whined. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She snorted, “Uh huh. Which is why we’re stalking her page like weirdos.”

“If the roles were flipped, I would be doing the same for you. I have done the same for you.”

“Touché.”

Miguel remembered Tempest spiraling over girls she thought was the one, the two of them huddled up over the phone watching as they all moved onto the next.

He sat beside her and reminded himself never to get this way. He perked up like a flower soaking up the sun every time there was an inch of hope, which truly rivaled how Tempest acted.

“I was just thinking that today would be different. Maybe she would think about me today.”

The thought sits in the air, Tempest’s face shifting to one of sad understanding.

“Not trying to feed your delusions, but maybe she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”

Miguel looked at the screen, a tiny bit optimistic.

“But in all fairness, I wouldn’t want anyone on my page who I thought committed one of the most cruel offenses. I would want to forget everything. You have to see this from her side too.”

Tempest was right, a common state when it came to their friendship. It didn’t stop that ugly rust of selfishness that crowded his heart.

He feels like he’s crying out for you, and you don’t care. A year of being together meant nothing to you.

Saying that out loud was insane, though. It didn’t align with how hurt you looked.

So, he’s been internally fighting the feeling, going from understanding to upset and back again.

“Have you talked to Xina at all?”

“She’s only keeping our conversations about school. And acting like nothing happened.”

“She’s probably embarrassed,” Tempest said. “She got caught this time and doesn’t know what to do.”

“Apologizing could be a start.”

“And that requires admitting she was wrong in the first place, so if you get that, let me know so I can mark the day. I’ll even make a t-shirt.”

The sigh that left Miguel was strong enough to irritate Tempest’s speakers.

He wanted to talk to her about the situation again, but it was like talking with a brick wall. It reminded him of when he snapped at her for constantly hitting him when they were younger. Looking back, they were just kids, and she probably didn’t mean anything by it. The red tint and angry pout on her face as she slid him her chocolate milk as an apology stuck with him.

“Why do you want an apology anyway? Or, why do you expect one?”

Miguel wasn’t sure himself. Xina was his childhood best friend, someone with whom he spent a lot of time and shared secrets. There were sweet memories and joyful moments.

It sucks to see her act so different.

“I think,” Miguel paused, looking off through his dorm window. “I think that-”

“Oh my god, she just posted.”

Miguel almost dropped his phone while he switched back to the messages app.

“What is it? What is it?”

“It is,” she dragged out her i’s. The sound of Tempest screenshotting and tapping away at her phone was like rapid fire. “An event, I think?”

“What event? You aren’t sending the pictures fast enough.”

“I already pressed send! Not my fault I don’t have high-speed internet.”

“Tell your cousin to stop fucking hogging it.”

“Shut up and watch the screen.”

His eyes dart across the screen as he waits for the screenshare to load.

Your account comes up, still intact. Miguel takes in everything like he did back when he first met you.

There were new posts about the sculptures you made in class and food from a new café. There’s also a glimpse of you smiling, and he feels like he’s ready to erupt.

Tempest refreshed your page again.

“This is so against girl code.”

“You haven’t even talked with her before.”

“How would you know?”

“Temp.”

“Right, sorry.”

She taps your story, and a flyer comes up.

“A Halloween-themed festival night?” Miguel says as the story disappears.

“Sounds fun!”

“I’m going to go. Put the story back up again.”

Tempest side-eyed him as best as she could, “Uh, maybe let’s not.”

“Why can’t I? I’m a member of the student body.”

“Do you usually go to these things?”

“No,” Miguel slowed his words. “But I could now? Maybe she won’t even be there.”

“And if she is? Wouldn’t it seem like you’re stalking her?”

He thinks about the many times he’s lingered around the art building, walked by your favorite spot on campus, and stared at corners of the library that you loved to see if you would be there.

“No?”

“Doubtful.”

“I just need to see her in person.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t stop thinking about whether or not you’ll be at the festival.

If he doesn’t see you, he’ll be disappointed, but the panic clawing at his throat won’t shift to his mind.

If he does see you, he’ll be like a fish out of water. Floundering, lost, and begging his lungs to gain its necessities.

He just hopes that going is the right decision.

GymRat!Miguel who goes to his robotics club meetup the next day.

There’s no competition coming up, but the department wanted to revise a moving metal skeleton for Halloween weekend.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Margo. I feel like it, too.”

She pulled his cheek out and made baby noises out of sympathy before Miguel swatted them away.

“Still no luck with your ex? Or is that joint giving you trouble?” she snickered at his sloppy attempt at connecting moving parts.

“Uh, no and yes.”

Aaron peeked up from his station and looked over like a beaver.

“I-it’s not because of what I said, right?”

Margo made a line with her mouth as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.

“No, Aaron,” Miguel mumbled.

“Yeah, Aaron, stop being nosy and get back to work,” Margo joked.

He snapped his welder’s mask back down like a dork and returned to sawing something, sparks flying past him.

Margo looks down at Miguel’s work.

“Well, I hope you can get her back soon because you need to work on your anatomy. Those bones don’t go together at all.”

He looks to a femur and a humerus connected with the sheer will of his clouded mind.

He missed when you attached sticky notes to his body for practice. The prize for getting the different parts of his body correct being kisses. You would laugh at his mistake but give a peck on the lips anyway. His arms were one of your favorite places to put your star-shaped stickers on, too.

“I didn’t mean for you to get even sadder,” Margo snapped him out of the memory.

“It’s fine. My fault.”

Margo shifted her weight as she started to take apart his mistake, “It’ll get better, Miguel. I’m sure of it.”

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from Tyler at one of the uppity restaurants in town. The lights are dim, as if the people eating here are all hiding from something.

“How’s school?” Tyler asked, clothes still managing to glow despite the one warm lamp above the table. He thanks the waitress for refilling his water glass. “Made any new friends? Connections?”

The age-old awkward feeling of trying to concisely describe his growing adult life was at the top of his mind.

“It’s going well,” was always the easiest answer. Simple and open-ended.

Of course, Tyler took this as a sign to delve further.

“Your mother told me you’re taking up game programming this semester. Do you like the feel of that class?”

An ice cube floated to the top of Miguel’s glass.

“I was enjoying it at first, now I’m sort of ready for it to end.”

Tyler cleared his throat, hand covering the frown on his face.

“Ah, well, some people just like the end result, I suppose,” he refolds a napkin, the reflection from his watch panning across the tablecloth. “What about your girlfriend? How is she? Perhaps, you have some new pieces of her’s to show me. My colleagues love the one in the entryway.”

The waiter placed a filet mignon in front of Miguel and bluefin tuna across from him. Tyler moved to tuck the same napkin into his crisp button down.

“I’m not sure.”

Tyler pauses as a slice of fish dangles from his fork.

Miguel is still cutting into the meat unnecessarily, knife scrapping against the plate.

“Son, this cut of meat is like butter,” Tyler said, taking the knife from him and putting it back on its napkin.

A twitch at the corner of his lips almost aligned with Tyler’s. The man racked his brain for the memories of his first son coming home with a similar expression.

He chewed and swallowed his fish stacked with cucumbers and cilantro.

“As you know, I am not the best when it comes to relationships. Nancy and I have had quite the uphill battle. However, I believe I am well-versed in the field of compromise. Should I reach out to her for you?”

It was a long shot, and by the growing shadows on his son’s face, Tyler suspected that his suggestion was a poor one.

“What will that do? Other than show her that I can’t handle my own problems.”

“Surely, you two can work it out. She was lovely, truly,” Tyler frets, afraid he’s made Miguel even more upset.

He just starts to eat, mind elsewhere.

Tyler wondered if he should have ordered some wine.

“When you found out Nancy cheated on you, what did you do?”

Lemon juice from his dish hit his throat right as he swallowed, a hand banging on his chest as he coughed.

“I, uh,” two gulps of water were taken from the glass Miguel handed him. “Well. The fruit of that labor is in front of me.”

“Obviously,” Miguel’s shoulders dropped and Tyler grimaced again. Curse his silly statements. “I meant, how did you feel? What were your initial thoughts?”

“I remember being angry. Here laid the mother of my only child with a much younger and, honestly, less fortunate man. I thought I was foolish to think that my genuine love or money could keep someone.”

Miguel pushed around an asparagus on his plate, “So there was a betrayal. A pain you couldn’t describe.”

“Exactly. For me, that came afterwards. I’m a prideful man. If one thing does not satisfy me, I simply find something that does.”

“And that thing just happened to be my mother?”

“Ah, if you put it like that, it’s far too harsh,” Tyler fixes a cuff. “Your mother provided me a place of warmth, solitude, and love for a short time. It’s something I’ll never forget. I regret the hurt Nancy and I inflicted on each other, but I don’t regret you.”

Tyler watches and waits for a response. His son shifts in his seat and rolls his neck, eyes never leaving his plate.

“Has she,” Tyler tilts his head, “hurt you this way?”

“No, but I broke her trust.”

“You cheated?”

“Never. But we have a lot to work on.”

Tyler might order some bourbon tonight to drink in place of his son and the mopey demeanor.

“I’m all ears whenever you need me. But if there is as much love between you two as I saw earlier this year, then you’re sure to gain in back. That doesn’t go away.”

Miguel takes a deep breath and Tyler believes that some of the shadows on his face disappear.

The meal continued, and the people around them continued their quiet chatter.

“Could you do me a favor?” Miguel asks as they both clean their plates.

Tyler lights up, “Anything.”

“Don’t tell my mom about this?”

Tyler thinks back to the unpleasant things Conchata had to say about her son’s girlfriend and quietly agrees that it’s for the best of she’s out of the loop.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks up to the festival wearing one of the shirts you gave him for his birthday.

It was an impulsive decision because now that he’s here, he’s wondering if seeing it on him will upset you.

The festival is partially outside and inside, a mix of games, concessions, and small rides for students to enjoy.

He walked under the pumpkin and bat-shaped balloons, and fake smoke from a cauldron moved past him.

It smelled like sour candy apples, and marshmallows. Booths were all around the campus grass. He walked past them slowly, not interested but searching for something.

The turnout was nice for a night when he figured people would be out partying. There were a lot of students walking in and out.

A game caught his eye as he neared the entrance to the student center. It’s a Shoot Out booth with the ducks replaced with black cats and the gun switched to tiny ghost bean bags to match the theme. There’s a giant white bunny with an X for lips, a blue dress, and a bow on its ear.

It’s so you that he couldn’t resist.

The student volunteer told him he had three chances this round to knock out twenty cats for the bunny.

“Everyone’s been gunning for it, but this game is pretty hard!”

Miguel nodded in understanding.

If he focused enough, the bunny could be his.

On his first try, he knocked out thirteen cats, much to the volunteer’s surprise.

“Woah! You’re pretty good! Did you wanna grab anything from this tier?”

There was student association merch and a shirt with the college logo.

Miguel rolled his sleeves up, “No, I’m going to try for the plushie again.”

The second time, he knocked down the last cat with just a few seconds left on the timer.

The girl running the booth smiled with her eyebrows nearly merging to the top of her head in shock.

“I-I guess that means you win the bunny!”

She handed it to him with a lull of awe.

He muttered a quiet thanks and turned towards the doors with fake spiderwebs dangling off them.

There was music, a sign to go to a haunted hallway, and even more tables with food.

He wonders if you would have gotten scared walking through scary attractions with him. You would probably hold his hand as tight as he’s holding the belly of this rabbit.

Scanning the room, he doesn’t catch a glimpse of you anywhere.

Looking down at the little white face in his hands, he started to think he wasted the hour or so he’d been here.

Walking to the table of free cookies, he took a frosted Frankenstein in his hand and bit a bolt off.

He felt like a lost kid as he floated from table to table to stall.

Maybe he should give up. You were probably promoting this event for Jess.

GymRat!Miguel who was finishing off his fifth mummy-in-a-blanket when he saw you leaving the haunted hallway.

The first thing he noticed is the long, blue cardigan falling off your shoulders. The end of it is trailing after you as you run out.

There’s a grin on your face and an air in your steps, something he missed seeing.

The next thing he noticed was that you weren’t wearing your necklace anymore.

Then a hand pulled it up on your shoulders and slid back down your arm.

A guy is standing next to you and laughing as if you’ll give him money for doing so.

He’s tall. He looks like he could be built, too.

It’s like a slap in the face, worse than when you pushed him away.

Looking down, Miguel saw your hand in his, clinging tight. You smile at the guy and reach up to get something out of his hair.

Miguel thinks that there was nothing wrong with his hair. There was nothing to smile about either.

The guy’s hands touch you in places where Miguel has embraced. His fingers were covering the same neck he’d put his head in. His thumbs ran over the apples of your cheeks, the same ones that used to crowd his lips.

You lean into the guy’s chest and say something that he can’t hear.

His stomach makes an angry lurch and he feels that orange being shift to a green one. It’s clawing at him, pulling at his mind.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to end. You weren’t supposed to cling to some random guy. You weren’t supposed to be with someone else.

Miguel turns when he leans down towards you, chest burning. What he didn’t see was not true to him. What he didn’t know was not reality.

GymRat!Miguel stormed out of the building, and images of you happy with someone else faded onto the inside of his eyelids.

The material of his sweater was scratching against his skin as he made his way back to the festival entrance.

Everything was too much. The people were too loud, the lamps were too bright, and the music playing over the speakers sucked.

His nose started to twitch and he wondered why did festival food have so much damn sugar.

Someone nearly hits the ground as he pushes past them, a confused noise hitting the air, but he doesn’t feel inclined to stop.

GymRat!Miguel who almost breaks free from what feels like a harmful joke when Xina spots him.

“Hey!” She ran over to him, leaves crunching against her boots. She’s wearing the varsity jacket he bought her years ago. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I,” he stopped when he thought he heard your laugh somewhere deep in the festival. “I’m not feeling too good. Think I’m gonna go back to my dorm.”

“Oh, do you have a fever? The weather did drop out of nowhere,” her hand lifted, fingers twitching like she wanted to see for herself.

She hesitates, scared he’ll blow away.

When her fingers press into his neck, he just wants to cry. It felt like when she caught him crying under the trees on the playground or when he’d show up at his grandma’s house with a chubby face full of tears.

He covers her hand for a second, just one, then pushes it away.

If he talks about it, he’ll break into pieces.

“Here,” he shoved the bunny into her hands. The dress is wrinkled, and the bow is a bit lopsided.

Xina’s eyes grow as sees it. The smile on her lips is familiar, “Thank you. I love it.”

Her mouth opens as if she wants to say more, but Miguel starts first.

“Glad you like it. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, ok. Get back safe, Hare-Hare.”

He heads towards his building empty-handed.

GymRat!Miguel who is in denial.

He’s moved past his brain making up you being at the Halloween festival and was now choosing to believe that it was a friend.

The tiny Gabriel on his shoulder was telling him that you had moved on. You had a new boyfriend, so he needed to move on as well—or stop moping about you.

He was choosing to ignore him for now.

It’s been another week since he saw you. Thanksgiving was on its way and he hasn’t been focused in a single class.

At a time when he really needed Tempest to update him, she told him to step back and recenter himself. Something about him not being level-headed.

He didn’t care.

The point of no return was truly here as he stood in front of the elevator in the art building.

A bag of food was sweating in his palm, and the two drinks were seeping into his hoodie, but he would regret it forever if he didn’t try talking to you again before the semester was over.

He’s doing something he told himself he wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t help that he still knew your schedule by heart. Taking a chance on you sticking around for studio hours was all that he had.

GymRat!Miguel who got to the right floor and was happy to see a student leaving the room.

The lights in the hallway were still on and music came from down the hall.

Miguel walked down, peering in every door, leaving once he couldn’t see you or when the people inside gave him weird looks.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the last studio in the hallway with quiet steps.

Your canvas is almost bigger than you, the top of it covering you as you moved your brush across it.

You had headphones on, star molds stuck on the sides of them.

Miguel sat the food down on the table, moving like a stealthy agent.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, yet paint was still on them despite your efforts. You looked tired, but god, you were still overwhelmingly gorgeous to him.

He stepped closer. Slowly, step by step, coming into your peripheral.

“Why are you here?”

Miguel paused mid-walk, face like a puppy who got caught.

He should have thought this through more.

“I wanted to see you,” he holds his hands before him. It’s not making him any smaller, but it brings a slight comfort. “Brought some food.”

“’M not hungry.”

An apology is his first instinct, but the sound of your stomach growling speaks for him.

You refuse to look at him, face warm.

“It’s your favorite. Come eat, please.”

Taking off your headphones, you sighed.

“Fine.”

GymRat!Miguel who has to pinch himself to stop staring at you.

You weren’t just tired, you were exhausted. Your eyes drooped as you bit into your fries, and your movements were sluggish.

You didn’t ask for his extra sauce like you usually did. You didn’t even try to steal his fries.

“How have you been?” he asks instead of digging himself further into the sad hole of his heart.

Your eyes flick at him over your glasses and back to your food.

“Really, Miguel?”

“Y-yes? I’m always wondering how you are.”

“Then you should know how I’ve been already, then.”

Miguel faltered.

“You’re not very subtle, you know? I could see you pacing back and forth around campus.”

“Oh,” he slurped his drink nervously.

“And I saw you at the festival, too.”

He almost punctured the styrofoam in his hand.

“So, you’ve been fine is what you’re telling me. I’m gla-” he choked on the words. “I see you’ve…met someone.”

“He was just a friend. You could have said ‘hi’ then, if you really wanted to speak with me.”

“Didn’t look like a friend,” left Miguel’s mouth before he could stop it.

You hummed, eyebrows raised, and a click sound from your teeth. “Oh, but now do you see how that feels?” You started to untie your apron.

“I didn’t mean for that to come out in that way. I came here to just talk.”

“About what? How you didn’t actually cheat on me? How you didn’t mean for any of this to happen? How you’re sorry you got caught?”

He bit his tongue.

That was almost what he wanted to say.

“About us,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I still love you, and it’s killing me not to be with you. This is as plain and simple as I can say it. I’ll say it over and over and over again until you hear me.”

“Miguel,” your voice puffed out, weary and broken, “you cheated on me with your best friend and now you’re here trying to spin this and pull me back. I-I have dignity. As much as I want to pretend like what’s been happening this semester is meaningless, I can’t.”

“And I’m telling you that I would never do that you. Not in a million years, not in this lifetime, would I ever purposely hurt you in that way. Baby, please. Listen to me!”

“I see the way you are with her,” your words fall after his. “I remember the texts. There is something there. I don’t know if I can compete with that and I’m not trying to. So, if you want to be with her, then do that, but leave me out of it.”

Miguel is quick to grab your hands as you try to turn away, “Fine. There is something there.”

You try to yank yourself from him again, the pain from October 13th filling you again, but his hands are faster this time.

“There’s a girl who used to threaten to beat me up if I didn’t defend myself against bullies. There’s a girl who used to trade collectible cards with me in secret because her parents didn’t allow her to obsess over junk, and the girls at school thought it was lame. There’s a trust built long over a decade that has been broken. I do care about her, as I would do with any friend, but you have to understand that I care about you, too.”

“Then why didn’t you show that?” you whispered, tears leaving your eyes. “It felt humiliating, Miguel. That night, I felt disgusting. Like you were just throwing me away. I kept thinking that you lied to me about everything, that you were indulging in something that you never really wanted.”

Miguel reached to hold your face, thumbs sliding your tears away, heart breaking.

“Lo siento, amor. Hm?” he wanted to take your pain away and place it onto himself if it meant that you didn’t talk like this. “It’s not true. What we have created is not some trial run. I love you so deeply, that I was going insane. Knowing that you thought otherwise is painful to hear. The buildup to that night is a misunderstanding. You have to know that.”

You take a breath, “How could I know?”

Miguel stared at your face and thought the same.

He’s been yelling trust, trust, trust and when he thinks back to your few interactions with Xina, it clicks that you truly had no foundation to trust.

“If I had just been better, you would have known.”

Like you said, Xina had walked all over him.

“So what now?” you asked, and pull your sweater over your fingers.

Miguel blinked, “I was hoping to start over? Restart?”

“I can’t,” you said immediately and Miguel tensed. “You entering my life has given me far more ups than downs, but when those downs come, they can be brutal.”

“So, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend, again?”

You shake your head and he felt like it was his turn to cry.

“I want action. Show me that something like this won’t happen again. We can sit here and tell each other promises until we’re blue in the face, but what do those promises mean if one person or thing can ruin it.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll do anything.”

You brush his hair back and wrap his arms around your waist to settle in this feeling. Your thumbs traveled from his hairline to curves of his ears down to his jaw. They rub circles into his skin, slow and rhythmic.

“Have you talked with Xina? Has she confessed to what you’re telling me she has done?”

He shakes his head softly, afraid to break the scene.

You laugh, small and quiet, then unwrap his arms from around you. You go back to your canvas and start to scrape at the glass of the taboret. Miguel was so in a trance, that almost didn’t notice the switch.

“I’m going to talk with her,” Miguel stated across the room.

You wave a hand in the air, unmoved.

He followed you as you go to the mineral spirits bucket to soak your brushes.

“Baby-“

“As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t talk to me until whatever you two have going on is fixed. Don’t know who 'baby' is.”

You walk to the sink and turn the water on. Miguel was right behind you and grabbing the dish soap before you can.

“And I will talk to her,” Miguel sayid. You reach for the soap and he holds it out of your reach, petulant. “Baby.”

You give him an irritated look and pinch his neck. He makes a hurt noise and gives you the jug.

“Action. Miguel.”

GymRat!Miguel who waited until you’ve packed everything up.

He didn’t mean for this to turn into him teasing you, but he couldn’t help it. He was getting his fill while he still could.

“At least let me walk you back to your dorm,” Miguel sayid, picking up the wet paper towels you’ve been throwing at him.

“No, thanks. I have a date. I don’t need you changing up my energy.”

Miguel’s smile dropped.

“You do?”

“His name starts with an R, ends with an E. He’s super sweet. Sturdy.”

Reese? Reggie? Raye? Ronnie?

“I see,” Miguel’s heart plummets. “Your friend wasn’t just that.”

“Mm-hm. We’re still testing the waters, but I don’t think he’ll disappoint me.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say. He was nothing but bold, though.

“Who’s to say that…guy won’t hurt you?”

Who’s to say that he would treat you better than Miguel?

You pull the straps of your back over your shoulders and Miguel wants to hold it for you.

A snicker leaves you, “Because he’s made of plastic and is designed of pleasure.”

“Oh.”

“Bye. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

Miguel stood and watched you go, wondering if this was progress.

GymRat!Miguel whose bedroom was filled with the chatter of his friends once more.

Friendsgiving was always fun.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that Lyla is a terrible teammate.

“You’ve got be doing this on purpose,” Miguel groaned as Lyla’s Yoshi pumps the pedal incorrectly.

“I don’t know what you’s talking about!” Her giggles float across the room as saw Miguel get more and more frustrated.

Winston and Tempest were laser-focused, their Monty Mole and Peach following a stead 1-2 rhythm to get their cart across the track.

“Lyla!” Miguel yells as her Yoshi stumbles back. “You’re selling me. You want me to lose.”

The mini-game ends with Tempest and Winston high-fiving each other and Miguel yelling at Bowser to pick his head up.

GymRat!Miguel who laughed as he watched Winston reenact his band director, nearly breaking his neck.

“I’ve never seen a bald man somersault on grass until that day.”

GymRat!Miguel who, full off of food and peach cobbler that Tempest made, stared at the bag of gummies that she placed in the middle of their huddle.

“We can just try this tonight. We’re safe with each other,” Tempest whispered.

“You guys are horrible role models,” Miguel said.

“I don’t know. That blue one is speaking to me. It reminds me of Scooby Doo,” Winston mumbled.

Lyla motioned across one, “Maybe we can cut it in half.”

“That defeats the purpose though. These barely have anything in them,” Tempest complained.

“Says you,” Miguel quipped. “You just called me about a cherry bong the other night.”

“Ok, but wasn’t it cute?”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly jumped out his skin when his door slams open.

Everyone except him shoves their gummy in their mouth with lightening speed. Miguel just holds his awkwardly as he turns to see him mom standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, ma?” he says. He chose to ignore Winston who is over exaggerating, lips smacking.

“Mijo! I have a surprise for you guys!”

GymRat!Miguel who sat awkwardly on his rug, running his wrapped gummy in his palm.

Lyla was practically in Tempest’s lap, tapping at her phone. Tempest is looking around their circle expectantly.

Winston started tapping a fast beat on his arm.

Miguel is looking everywhere except in front of him where Xina was sitting with her chin tucked into her knees.

“It’s good to see you again,” Winston said, forever the peacemaker.

Xina relaxed a bit, “You guys, too. I’ve missed this.”

Miguel saw Tempest softening up a bit at Xina’s words.

“When is stuff gonna hit?” Lyla barks out to which Tempest elbows her.

Xina cleared her throat, “Actually can we talk, Miguel?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Xina looked around them, “Alone?”

GymRat!Miguel who was standing across from Xina in the office-turned-bedroom that his parents barely used.

“Did my mom invite you?” Miguel asked.

“Actually, Tempest did.”

Miguel raises his eyebrows and nods. He didn’t expect that but he’s not mad at it.

Xina was antsy, arms hiding themselves in the sleeves folded across her body. Miguel stayed quiet.

“So, things between us haven’t been exactly smooth sailing lately.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Miguel looked down at the shark slippers you bought him last year.

“And I have some things that I want to explain to you.”

Miguel raised his eyes expectantly. Xina was mirroring his posture, but her face looked uncomfortable, conflicted.

Her eyes flicker over his before she covered her face and huffs, “这太难了.” (This is so hard.)

“What’s hard?” Miguel asks, pulling together the few times Xina taught him anything. He sat down, hoping it would relax her more.

Her hands drop as she blinks at the ceiling, “Everything. When it comes to you, everything just gets overwhelming.”

“As in?”

She looked at him in disbelief, “As in I’m doing silly shit, again.”

A pause in her words comes as they hear laughter from down the hall.

“Last year was so surreal. I did everything right. My mailbox was full of acceptance letters. My mom finally genuinely smiled at me for the first time in what felt like years. I moved so far away from my parents that I felt like that string that kept me attached to them had broken. I had fun. I went to my first party and got so drunk that when I woke up, I was on the porch of a frat. I made friends who could relate to me more than anyone else. I made acquaintances who could have never gotten into that school without their parents painting the campus with money. Still, I worked my ass off and got kicked out because one of them hid drugs under my seat.”

Miguel’s breath hitched, but Xina continued.

“It was my word against kids whose parents could have the school shut down within minutes. My dad was so angry at me that he pretended like I wasn’t in his home. And my mom just,” her leg started to bounce. “She helped me pack up some things and sent me to go live with my aunt for the summer. It wasn’t until she dropped me off at the airport that whispered to me that she loved me. That she was proud of me. That it was ok to make mistakes.”

“I cried like a baby for half of the flight. And it wasn’t until I got to customs that I realized that I should have called you. You always knew what to tell me no matter what the situation was and I just disappeared. Everything came back tenfold and I missed you so much. So when I saw you again, it was like I fell back into my old habits. I thought ‘I’m finally going to do it!’ but would chicken out and relieve that stress. I was kind of hoping that my tipsy self would have more confidence.”

“Because a drunk tongue speaks a sober mind?” Miguel hummed.

Xina finally laughed, “Are you 40 or something? Yeah. Exactly.”

Miguel blinked and looked up at her, “So tell me what your sober mind wants to say, Xina.”

Xina’s eyes lowered, “That I. I feel like I lose myself when I’m around you. It’s why I acted the way I did. It’s why I overstepped.”

His heart picked up as he registered her words.

“I like you so much, Miguel. More than I can bear. More than I’d like to admit. More than a friend.”

dividers by: @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Please don't be mad at me. 😵‍💫 Also please watch your tone in the comments. 🤠 Be very mindful, very demure.

The taglist is full, so if you would like to be informed of future updates, check my blog occasionally (💀) or subscribe to the story on AO3!

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[crappycamille]

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered��� usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

[morgluvsconnie]

eren yeager is actually a hopeless romantic and he doesn’t know it.

no matter how hard he may act or seem, he loves you way harder than that. he buys you anything you want, as an apology, when he’s bored, when you’re sad, almost every week you have to tell him constantly not to buy you something, but he really doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t care.

the amount of necklaces, earrings, bracelets, shoes, clothes, and snacks that you’ve gotten from this boy (and more than that if it’s a special event.) is insane. everything you’ve ever touched in the store, looked at online, or even just called cute, he’s gotten it for you.

and he just loves the thought of you. he can talk about you from the time he wakes up to the time he’s getting ready for bed. he loves everything about you. your hair, your eyes, your body, skin, lips, the way your nails are always done with a color you let him pick, the way you’re just completely comfortable around him, everything.

if he hears your name, he’s quick to brag about how much of a good girlfriend you are instead of how much he gives you.

“yeah, she just…” then he’d click his tongue. “ion know. it’s just sum bout her that make her different from everybody else. like, the way she act… and how she be smilin’ and shit.”

he’s so adorable when it comes to you.

you’ll catch him admiring you all the time and when you did, he’d try to play it off like there was something on your face.

before you, he was all “why i need one hoe if three want me?”

now a girl can’t even look at him. if a girl approaches him, he wouldn’t even think about anything beyond getting her the fuck out his face.

and he don’t care bout nunna that ‘go through phones’ shit, cus he really has nothing to hide. the worst that would happen is you finding an embarrassing middle school picture of him.

but other than that, it’s really nothing.

and no, he isn’t clingy. but he can’t be from around you for a long time. say you were too tired to go out, and he just wanted to go smoke wit his friends. he’d text you from time to time to make sure you’re okay, then go about his business.

give it like three hours, then that’s when he starts checking the time over and over again because he wants to make sure he has enough time with you when he gets home before you both go to sleep.

but he was just ready to get home so that you could scratch his head for him, do face masks (which he didn’t even like, he just liked how you’d rub his soft face every time you peeled it off, minus his forehead hairs ripping out), and then match pajamas for a random movie night.

every day, and every night was something different with you. that’s what he liked.

he also liked the fact that you and him were each others longest relationship (since tenth grade).

so even through all the arguments and ups and downs in your relationship, the only thing he knew, was that he would love you no matter how many times you said you didn’t need a gift, no matter how many times you’d tell him he’d already kissed you three seconds ago, and no matter how long he hugged you when he was only going to the kitchen.

you were really his best friend, and he wouldn’t change that for the world.

[wholelottaprompts]

ᡣ𐭩 Emails I Can't Send Prompts ᡣ𐭩

from the album Emails I Can't Send, by Sabrina Carpenter

"And I still make excuses for you constantly."

"Sorry that I pulled the 'it's not you, it's me.'"

"You're not my friend, and baby, you never were."

"It's times like these I wish I had a time machine."

"Whatever, you're a waste of time."

“Oh, so you do have a type."

"Where else can we go?"

"I hate the way you left me dry."

"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."

"Don't say sorry now."

"One day, I'll make sure you get a real apology."

"I tried to look for the best in the worst."

"Oh, so you can reply."

"I'm so tired."

"You want me? I'm done."

"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."

"You're lucky I'm a private person."

"I'm over that son of a bitch."

"Don't make me cuss you out."

"You're so vicious."

"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."

"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"

"I can't help it, it's a habit."

"You act like a bitch."

"I never saw him and we never kissed."

"There's nothing left here to decode."

"Were you lying to me and the family?"

"If you wanted brown eyes, I could have got contacts."

"You don't feel remorse."

"That never made too much sense to me."

"I can't read your mind."

"Why'd you let me down?"

"You knew I would see that."

"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."

"Bet you wanna love me now."

"How do you do this to me?"

"Tell me what's gonna happen."

"You knew I would notice."

"I'll drive you home."

"I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense."

"I want you there sometimes."

"She looks nothing like me."

"Your signals are mixed."

"Everything reminds me of you."

"I know you know it keeps me up."

"You drive me crazy."

"Chase me."

"Did you even give a fuck?"

"You disgust me."

"Now I'm a homewrecker. I'm a slut."

"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."

"Why do you look so happy?"

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks to you, I can't love right."

"I know now even if I tried to change that somehow, you'd end up with her anyway."

"You fit every stereotype."

"Does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?"

"Now I can't even look at you."

"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."

"I know what you're about to say."

"Does she get up on top of you more than I would?"

"He had it coming."

"I deserve my own consideration."

"I look up from my phone and think there's no chance it's you, but it is."

"He's good for my heart, but he's bad for business."

"I've got death threats filling up semi trucks."

"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?"

"All my friends think I've gone crazy."

"I care, but I don't."

"Please fucking fix this."

"Tell me that you miss me in your life."

"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."

"You were all I looked up to."

"Was I being lied to?"

"I got ways to find you anywhere."

"You miss me? No duh."

"Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime."

"It was all so innocent."

"What the fuck is patience?"

"I can't even stomach loving someone else."

"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."

"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."

"I bet your house is where my other sock is."

[le-trash-prince]

THIS SCENE

THIS SCENE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME

First of all, shout-out to Nick for quietly but assuredly knocking on the door to the stall while Boston and his hookup are making out and then proceeding to give a heartfelt apology and confession, as if the hookup isn’t even there. 95% of people wouldn’t be caught dead even walking into the bathroom, and the other 5% would cause a loud, raging scene. Nick is in his own league.

Also I do feel bad for the hookup for getting interrupted and then having to stand at the back of the bathroom stall during all this. Shoutout to you bro.

Anyways can I just gush and be emotional over this scene? After everything that Nick has done to try and keep Boston by his side, he comes in with this speech to say goodbye, and he gives Boston so many things that he needed to hear.

First of all, this apology was absolutely necessary, as was the “You don’t have to forgive me.” Boston hasn’t gotten a single acknowledgment that what happened to him was messed up. The only apology Nick gave before was when he was begging Boston to stay, and that’s not a real apology, that’s just saying what you think someone wants to hear. While Nick could have gone into more detail about why what he did was wrong, this is still a heartfelt and genuine apology. He’s not apologizing just to make Boston happy with him. He’s not begging for forgiveness. He’s just saying that he’s sorry.

Then there’s this. This is one of the things I love about BostonNick because they do seem so truly happy around each other, even outside the bedroom. And Nick has never said it until now. Boston has gotten closer to saying this than Nick. And Boston probably hasn’t heard this from anyone before.

We know that Boston is used to people only wanting him for sex. We know he was surprised when Nick asked him to help move because he couldn’t comprehend someone wanting a favor from him that wasn’t sexual in nature.

Earlier this episode, Atom compliments Boston’s photography skills, but that conversation was about sex and Atom trying to get into Boston’s pants. Nick has already made it clear that he isn’t asking for anything, and I don’t think Boston is used to people complimenting him without an angle.

But this is the part that Boston needed to hear the most. Because honestly, who doesn’t need to hear this?

“You’re not a bad guy.” Boston especially is constantly villainized by the people around him, when there’s only a few specific things that he has really done wrong. And this statement wouldn’t hit the same coming from anyone else. Because Nick knows everything that Boston has done wrong, and Nick has done some of those same things himself. Nick means it when he says Boston isn’t bad. And this in itself is an apology for things Nick has said before. That Boston is a bad guy, that he deserved what he got for sleeping around.

“Your friends love you for who you are” It’s the way Boston has to steel himself for a moment when Nick says this. Hats off to you, Boston coz I’d be weeping. You are so dedicated to not feeling emotions but Nick has gotten to you.

“Because I love you for who you are.” Honestly do y’all think Boston has ever expected that he would hear these words? Boston is so scared of being known. He tries to wear his confidence on his sleeve, but he is scared of exposure and he is scared of letting people close.

And yet here is Nick, who knows Boston. Who knows that Boston lusts freely and openly, who knows that Boston can be mean with the truth, and that he has the fatal human flaw of desiring companionship. And he loves him. Who doesn’t want that!!

Boston is processing more feelings in this moment than he has in his entire life. The Boston of 8 episodes ago would not care about Nick saying goodbye. The shirt is bang on the nose once again because the old Boston, the pre-Nick Boston would be smiling like nothing mattered. But instead, his walls have crumbled.

I cannot say enough that I love the way this scene closed. That this is what pushes Boston to chase after Nick. The development!!! 😔🤌✨

And then we end with a parallel shot from before the bathroom!! The cinematic poetry is killing me. Nick seeing Boston with someone else and deciding to move on—and then Boston seeing Nick with someone else and realizing that he wants to hold on.

I need ppl to yell about this with because I’m not okay, I love this red flag ship, and I want to glue this scene to my eyeballs.

[storiesforallfandoms]

cover me ~ ashton irwin

word count: 1908

request?: yes!

“okay but ashton irwin size kink smut. like that man is over a foot taller than me and omg i would kill to be underneath him. like him manhandling you, picking you up over his shoulder and throwing you on the bed. i need it like i need oxygen, more than ever. so please”

description: in which his girlfriend is so much smaller than him, and they both get off on it

pairing: ashton irwin x small!female!reader

warnings: rpf, swearing, pet names (princess, baby), smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, oral m receiving, tummy bulge, references to other sexual activity but nothing in heavy detail), reader is described as being smaller than ash so i apologize if that is not your body type i usually try to be more vague for my fics but this was a request!

masterlist (one, two, three)

Ashton was obsessed with how much bigger he was than you.

At first, he just thought it was adorable. He stood at least a foot taller than you, and he loved to pick you up or give you piggyback rides. When he realized how much bigger his hands were, he teased you about it constantly. He’d put stuff on the top shelf just to watch you struggle to reach it, or so you’d have to ask him to get it for you.

He thought it was adorable and hilarious, until he realized how hot it was.

He could pick you up and fuck you senseless against the wall. His large hands could wrap effortlessly around your throat as he pounded you into the mattress. And occasionally there was a bulge in your tummy when he would bury himself completely inside of you that drove him absolutely wild.

When he realized how hot he found your small size, he just couldn’t stop himself from grabbing you whenever he was feeling needy. If you were in another room, he’d just pick you up effortlessly and carry you to your shared bedroom. Or he’d bend you over the armrest of the couch and make you stand on the tips of your toes so your pussy was the same height as his cock. Or he’d get you in the shower and pick you up to fuck you against the tile wall.

He was a horny bastard, and he’d be the first person to admit that.

It wasn’t always Ashton’s fault, though. You loved to tease him until he had no choice but to fuck you senseless.

Like the day you were at work and he was home, and you decided to tease him through text the whole day.

It started with an innocent enough picture in your work outfit, but you were wearing the skirt that Ashton went crazy for. For good measure, you had pulled it up a bit just for the picture, to make it look shorter. When he responded the way you had wanted him to, you followed up with a dirty text. You had him hooked, and you didn’t stop until you got into your car to drive home.

The second you walked through the door, you found yourself shoved up against the door and Ashton’s hand around your throat. He was squeezing just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“You naughty girl,” he said, his voice husky with lust. “Do you know how difficult you made my day? I couldn’t get anything done because all I could think of was bending you over in this skirt.”

You squeaked as he slipped his other hand under your skirt. He ran his middle finger over your clothed clit. You whimpered.

“You’re already so wet,” he said. “Have you been fantasizing about having my cock all day? Is that why you were teasing me while you were at work?”

You nodded, but he squeezed your throat a little more. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you whimpered as he relieved some of the pressure on your throat. “Yes, Ash.”

He was smirking. “You naughty, naughty girl.”

You gasped as he slipped a finger under the lace of your panties and started to run it through your folds. You moaned as he applied pressure to your clit and rubbed agonizingly slow circles. You were becoming lightheaded from the pressure he was applying to your throat, and that was making the feeling of him working on your clit more intense.

He slipped a finger into you and you cried out in pleasure. With your eyes screwed shut from the pleasure, you couldn’t see the look of satisfaction on Ashton’s face. He loved how good he could make you feel, especially when it was just with his fingers.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked. “Do you like these big fingers inside your little pussy?”

“Yes!” you cried out. “Fuck yes, Ash, it feels so good!”

He added a second finger, stretching you further. He curled his fingers to stimulate that soft spot inside of you that made you start to see stars.

Your first orgasm hit you without warning. You started to tremble and your vision went white as you clenched around him. You went slack in his arms as your body went numb. Ashton pulled his fingers from you and took hold of you so you wouldn’t fall. You tried to stand on your own, but your legs were too weak. Ashton picked you up to carry you to the bedroom. He laid you down gently onto the bed and pulled your skirt and panties off at one time. You could see the outline of his boner fighting against his sweatpants. You sat up to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for his hard cock to spring free.

He ran a hand through your hair. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and asked, “Can I suck you dick, Ash? Please?”

He groaned in response and pulled your head towards him. You took his cock in your hand and pumped him a few times before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You ran your tongue around the head just as slowly as he had been touching your clit early. His breathing was already becoming staggered as you did, and the hand that was resting in your hair still was starting to grasp at the strands. Slowly you started to take more of his length into his mouth. You didn’t want to over do it just yet, but Ashton involuntarily bucked his hips forward in pleasure and drove his cock into the back of your throat. You gagged and pulled off of him quickly.

“Awe, my little princess,” he cooed. “Can’t even fit this big dick in her little mouth. How are you going to fit all of it in your pussy?”

You ignored his comment and took him in your mouth again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take the full of him, but something about his comment made you want to take as much as you could possibly handle. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, pumping whatever of his length that you couldn’t take in your mouth as you began to bob your head at the same time. Ashton threw his head back and groaned into the empty room, completely taken with the way your mouth felt around him. It was one of his most favorite feelings in the world, second only to the feeling of being buried balls deep inside of you.

You didn’t have him in your mouth for long before he was pulling at your hair, taking you completely off of him and pulling you into a kiss. It was sloppy and quick, and soon enough he was pushing you back down onto the bed.

“I can’t do any more teasing,” he said. “I need you.”

You stripped off your shirt and bra, and he took off his own shirt and kicked his sweatpants and boxers somewhere onto the floor. He climbed onto the bed, towering over you. You remembered how intimidated you felt seeing him like this for the first time. You knew Ashton was anything but intimidating or scary, but his height made it feel like he was towering over you. Not to mention the size of his cock actually had you worried at the time that he wouldn’t fit.

Now, though, the sight of him kneeling over you, his cock red and stood at full attention, was an extreme turn on.

He lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds to collect the moisture that was left from your orgasm. He pushed into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to every inch of him. One of your hands was gripping at the sheets beneath you, while the other was holding onto Ashton’s hand. He watched as he disappeared inside of you until his pelvic bone was pressing against your clit. He leaned down to kiss you, his entire body covering yours.

His thrusts started slow as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He placed small kisses over your neck and collarbone. Each inwards thrust made his pelvic bone brush against your clit in a way that sent shocks of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure slowly building up in your stomach. While you didn’t want to cum again just yet, it was almost frustrating how slowly it was starting to build. You wanted to chase that high quickly once it had started.

Ashton pulled away from you to sit up on his kneels. He pressed a hand against your stomach and you gasped at the feeling.

“God, I love when I can see the bulge,” he said, looking down at where your bodies were connected. “Can you feel me deep in your guts, princess?”

“Y-Yes,” you breathed. “God, Ash, it feels so good. I’m getting so close.”

“Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you tightening around my cock.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit and started to rub circles until the pressure in your stomach became too much. You called his name as you felt yourself cumming again, this one somehow more intense than the first. Ashton groaned at the feeling of you squeezing his cock and it was enough for him to hit his climax, too. He buried himself completely inside of you as he spilled his seed into you. You were both panting messes as he slumped on top of you.

You giggled and pushed at him. “Ash, you’re going to crush me.”

“Can’t move. Feel too good,” he responded.

“You won’t feel good if you crush me to death.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows to hover over you. “I wouldn’t crush you to death. You’re dramatic.”

“Try having someone who’s basically twice your size lay their full weight on top of you, then tell me I’m being dramatic.” You sat up a little to kiss his nose before flopping back down onto the bed.

Ashton reluctantly pulled himself from you. You couldn’t help but pout from the empty feeling as he did so. He got up and went to the bathroom to get you both clothes to clean up with. He passed you yours, still nice and warm from the sink, and you quickly wiped yourself down. You grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on while he pulled on his boxers.

“So,” he said, “got what you wanted, then? That was the idea behind sending the naughty texts?”

You grinned slyly at him. “Well, I did expect you to fuck me until I couldn’t stand, but I also just felt like being in a teasing mood.”

“I can’t believe you wore the skirt. I love that skirt. That skirt was supposed to be for me to see and me only.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down onto the bed with you. “Other people may have seen it, but just remember you’re the only one allowed to bend me over in it.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your head. “That does make me very happy to think about. I may do that later once we’re both in the mood for round two, since I didn’t get a chance when you came home.”

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟖

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: light smut, angst, language, sexual tension, teasing

Word Count: 5814

A/N: English is not my first language.

Your fingertips reached out the eagle symbol as your hands moved over the hard plate on his chest while you remained seated on his lap. Soldier Boy continued to watch every move you made. As the minutes went on, his grasp on your stomach grew softer, and you started to question your ability to truly influence his thoughts over Cate and other things. You hoped you would be able to go back inside his heart and that he would be able to love you without missing the times that you were reluctant to remember.

You wanted to make things right because you felt a strong draw toward him, even if you weren't sure how.

You were cool with it if he wanted you to Temp-V so he wouldn't force your mind to surrender you to the merciless hands of another Supe. You were obviously anxious to discover your dynamics with him, but you must have done it many times with him. You were curious about how he treated you in bed. The idea heated your cheeks. 

As if sensing it, he remarked in a playful tone, “What are you thinking now?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just us.”

Your answer warmed his heart. If he couldn't remember every detail of the times you had spent together, he would say it was deja vu. But you were back on his lap, telling him that all you could think about was him and you. You sounded precisely the same, as if you were deliberately recreating that same moment, so he wondered whether he was right to think that you were different. But all memories were forgotten, and here you were in his arms. 

You made an effort to approach him more closely than you had previously, and you inquired, “Are you okay too, though? Instead of focusing on finding Cate and forcing me to recall things, considering extending my time.”

He said, “On one condition.” His hands seemed softer now, like if he could pull them back at any second. 

“I already accepted taking that thing you mentioned, Temp-V.”

“There is one more,” he said with determination. His expression was serious. 

“What now?” You sighed. He was constantly asking something more.

“If you can't remember a single thing in a month, you will agree to get help from Cate.”

You instantly said, “No way!” and were irate that he hadn't even given you six months. You had doubts; he cared about your feelings much. “You're being cruel. Let me have four months.”

With a tone of rage, “Fuck no,” Soldier Boy tightened his hold on your body. “One and a half.”

You sighed, seeing how quickly he was growing furious. “You're asking too much from me, you know.” There was something different about his rage. 

“How it's too much when I want the woman I loved to come back to me.”

The way he utilized the past tense made your body tense. Your mood fell as you realized that, despite your best efforts, there was still some distance between you. Your palms touched the eagle symbol on his chest and then went gently down to the belt, which had a star symbol on it. Soldier Boy felt regret after realizing what he had just said, but instead of offering an apology, he said nothing that would have made you feel even worse. 

You were reaching out to him, and he was reaching out to you, but your efforts were going in separate directions. Why did he find it so difficult to accept you as you are? Was the difference between the old and new you really that much? You questioned if you were really that annoying.

You muttered, “Give me three months then,” without responding to what he had just said. There was a hint of disappointment in your voice. It was difficult to control how you were feeling.

With annoyance, Soldier Boy examined your face and inhaled deeply. “One and a half. That's all I will give. Discussion is over.”

“No.”

“For God's sake,” he murmured in frustration. You began to become enraged with him for his impatient manner since he was being so persistent. At least he could acknowledge some of your decisions while you were being so kind, even if he didn't like your new version.

You scowled and tried to get to your feet to break free of his hold, but his hands stopped you with ease. Soldier Boy drew you closer to his body with a serious look, saying, “Stop moving.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and said, “You stop being a stubborn asshole.” Then, with a rapid motion that brought your body even closer to his, you gasped, “Ow!” as his iron belt hurt your stomach.

Soldier Boy instantly released his hold on you. His expression was one of perplexity, as though he hadn't realized what he was doing. You questioned how you managed to stay with him for so long given how harsh he was and had such a temper. 

“Language.” With a hint of irritation in his tone, he playfully responded, “Show some respect to your man. That's what happens when you don't listen to me.” He replaced your body back on his lap. He looked over your stomach and raised your t-shirt a little higher to see if you were hurt. It burned a bit, but there was just a slight scretch. 

For a split second, you felt like a foolish young girl because of your excitement at his remarks. “I wonder how I survived with you,” you muttered once more as you stopped physically battling with him. Soldier Boy's fingers lightly touched the small mark on your stomach, giving him a disappointed expression, yet his expression was serious on the other side. “I should have been with a regular man who would respect my choices.”

He got frustrated that you brought up being with another man instead of him and remarked, “Watch your mouth,” as he let your t-shirt fall in a rough manner. “Respect the decisions you've made? A man is a pathetic and useless pussy who can't fix anything if he just lets go of everything when his woman experiences memory loss.”

“Or?” you said, trying to lighten the mood by lightly teasing him. While you were still on his lap talking to him about your future together, you realized it wouldn't be a good idea to argue with him. “And I'm not something to be fixed. You must know how thick your skull is.”

With a little smile, he studied your face and body till your cheeks reddened. You tried to get away from him slightly, but he held on closely. You stiffened up as his fingertips continued to linger on your skin and gently moved into your t-shirt. 

“What were you saying? Now, what happened? Do you need me to remind you of the other thick parts of my body that you found most pleasing?” Soldier Boy inquired, a sly smile playing on his lips. It was apparent that he was enjoying your response to him. You could feel the hardness of him beneath his suit as he rubbed your body against it. His mouth was so dirty that it made your cheeks flush crimson.

You whispered, “Don't change the subject,” without saying anything more. Your pussy had other plans, even though you tried not to stare at his massive member beneath you. “Will you allow me enough time? Four months seems like a reasonable amount of time.”

“No way.” He said it in a more controlled manner this time. You knew he was briefly looking at your body as his hands and fingers caressed your skin and held you tightly to his body. There was desire in his eyes; you could tell that.

Instead of disturbing you, though, it unexpectedly thrilled you. It seemed as though there was a magnetic pull between you or that your bodies were attempting to reunite in a more intimate manner. 

“That would be enough, and it benefits you the most,” you said. 

He arched an eyebrow at your refusal, chuckling. “In what ways will it benefit me?” Then Soldier Boy took a serious attitude, although it was clear that he was amused by your attempts. 

You stated, “If I don't love you back the way I had loved you in the past, you can tell my emotions were fake or something.” Even though you knew it was a cheap move, you still felt like you had to try it. 

The look on Soldier Boy's face shifted, as if he gave it some real thought. You might sense there was a brief moment of little lack of confidence if you didn't know how much he knew about himself. Nonetheless, he was undoubtedly the most attractive and powerful Super. 

“I know you love me already, and when you said you did, you said it sincerely.” There was no debate after his sharp remarks. “It doesn't matter if you remember or not.”

You dared to challenge him even though it wasn't a smart move. “How can you be so sure, and why so stubborn if it doesn't matter?”

“Because I can tell when you are lying. They are not the same thing,” he replied. 

With a cunning appearance on his lips, he watched you cautiously as your hands slid gently over his suit. You could have chuckled at how patient he was now, in spite of his intolerance only moments before, if you hadn't felt his hardness beneath you. 

You posed a lighthearted question, “Can I change your mind a bit?” You wanted him to be unconscious of how much this was fun for you, but you both were into playing a little. There was an overpowering need for discovering your balance with him. 

Your hands returned to his shoulders after carefully grazing each and every inch of his suit. As he stared at you and did nothing except hold you close, you felt a kind of joy emerge in your chest. Soldier Boy was the one who was closest to you and was willing to let you do everything you wanted to do him, even though you had known Butcher and the other guys for a very long time. You knew it was different with him.

“I'm not sure. You have to give it a try,” Soldier Boy grumbled, returning his hands to your hips. “You must know I'm not very easy to convince.”

“I see that,” you winked at him. At least you knew just how stubborn he was without needing your memories to return. However, you were equally determined about pursuing what you wanted. 

Soldier Boy couldn't resist chuckling when he saw how much you were already enjoying. For a little while, you felt as though you knew him as well as he knew you, and everything between you was normal. 

You said, almost in a whisper, “I want to bargain,” shifting slightly on him despite the fact that your cheeks were burning. If he acted more stubbornly and pushed you away, you would be quite embarrassed. 

To your astonishment, though, his hands kept stroking your hips—only more forcefully this time. Instead of harming you, he was once again showing his dominance to you. 

When you noticed he was considering it, you asked again, your cheeks heated, and you started to move on him a little. “Can we negotiate?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, seemingly disconnected from what you had to say, and instead he stared at your body. 

That's when Soldier Boy turned to look at you. His eyes were staring at you intensely. You trusted him when he said he missed you. You were there with him, comfortably seated on his lap. You weren't uncomfortable or anything even a day ago. It just felt right to be with him.

Soldier Boy smirked and gave you a quick ass squeeze. “Show me what you can do to convince me,” he urged. Although your eyes became wide, you were determined not to allow Cate to touch you and fuck your brain's balance. 

You weren't sure how far you would go without Temp-V at the time, and you didn't know how much he would go far. You had at first wanted to speak with Butcher. But there has to be a way to get him interested enough. 

You shifted slightly on his lap, one hand caressing his neck and hair, the other gently touching his huge bisceps. Your lips parted in surprise and desire as you felt his erection under you. Even though you had both stated that you were not interested in having sex before you remembered him, here you were, unable to get your hands off of one another as if you were meant to be together forever. 

You remained motionless, yet your lips were almost in contact. All you could do was stare into his eyes. He continued to hold you, the mock on his lips disappearing as his hold on your hips grew stronger and stronger. 

“How about...” you muttered. “Four months?” 

“Fuck no,” he responded, giving you a firm squeeze to move on him. 

To give you adequate space, Soldier Boy widened his legs a little. As you moved, you could feel his hands tightening around your thighs and his breathing becoming heavier. The strength difference between you made you a little uneasy, but you would have told him the moment his touch began to hurt. 

He suddenly said in a stern voice, “I should have fucked you on that table,” urging you to continue. Although there was quite a barrier between you and his pants, it didn't stop you from getting pleasure. 

Your body and cheeks became flushed from embarrassment, but you persisted and stated, “Give me four months.” 

You could never have agreed to let some other Supe get near you and screw your mind even more. 

You gasped in shock when Soldier Boy ignored what you had said and put a firm grasp on one of your tits through your t-shirt. He had hands all over the place. By the end, you weren't sure if you would be the one to get what you wanted. All of his focus was on his own needs.

“Feel how much you still make me hard, baby,” he muttered on your neck, pressing you on his stiff cock more thoroughly. “We haven't been this way in a very long time. I've so fucking missed watching you move on my cock.”

Longing was present in his final words, along with a lot of yearning. Though you tried to dismiss it and concentrate on the present, you couldn't help but feel a type of sadness tightening in your chest. Though you hoped you missed him just as much as he did, you showed no signs of this feeling. It seemed as though you had never separated. 

At that moment, you found yourself willing to play the game he needed.

In an attempt to give him what he truly desired from you, you hesitated before placing one of your hands on his and making him squeeze your ass firmly. 

“How much did you miss me?” you asked, meeting his gaze directly. Though your lips met his, it was not a kiss. His lips and touch were warm. 

It would be great if you knew his name, but though you tried so hard, you could not recall. You hoped that you had forgotten Butcher's instead.

Soldier Boy's lips began to lick your neck and throat. “So fucking much,” he moaned. It was evident from the way he moved underneath you that this was making him harder than before. 

Between gasps, you proceeded, encouraged by his reaction to your touch and words, “Will you give me four months?” His grip on your hips began to ache a little, but you bit your lip to keep the moment from being ruined until you had what you wanted.

He groaned, “Don't stop,” as soon as he noticed you were moving on him more slowly. His finger was lingering around your trousers and giving you little bruises. You tense up, thinking he's going to rip them off, so you tried to get the speed that Soldier Boy needed.

“You did give me a good hand job there, didn't you?” He let out a moan as you struggled to maintain the same pace. You made an effort to loosen his hold somewhat with your hand, but he didn't seem to be listening. 

“Given how long it's been, you would let me fuck you raw right now, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you allow me to fully fill your tight pussy and fuck you from behind till you can't move?” You eventually whimpered as Soldier Boy tightened his grasp on your hips and murmured into your ear. 

“Careful!” His hot kisses on your neck were so passionate and intimate that you felt yourself losing yourself in the moment with him as you moaned in pain and stroked his hands to calm him. 

He said, “I'm not even using force; relax,” as if he were at the end of his tolerance. It was impossible to determine if he was very aroused or enraged. Most likely, he had no idea how powerful he was. You came to the realization that using Temp-V was a wise decision. It was risky to be with a supe like him since you never knew if he was aware of what he was doing. 

His lips captured yours with desire, allowing you to slow down and ultimately release his hands from your hips without allowing you to say anything more. You felt a bit more at ease once he released your hips. 

You said, “We need to calm down,” in between kisses. You gave him softer, more tender kisses in return for his fierce, heated ones. It was absurd that you felt safe getting closer to a man you had only met the day before.

Soldier Boy was not your boyfriend; he was a stranger in fact. Someone you couldn't remember. But your heart knew the right path. 

He moaned, “Can't get my hands off of you,” kissing you this time with care and desire. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”

“But I didn't take Temp-V,” you murmured hurriedly. It was difficult for you to make predictions as to how you did it because you couldn't recall your private moments with him.

“So?” Not sure what you were hinting at, Soldier Boy stated in a querying tone.

You muttered, “I don't know,” struggling to find the right words. “How.. we used to do it.”

“Do what?” he repeated, but this time he was smirking.

You stopped him and said, “Don't act like an asshole,” but his rough hands were already on your hips once more.

He kissed you hard and briefly in between talking about your attitude, saying, “The first thing you must remember is that'respect' for sure. And yes, we did it many times without Temp-V or anything else.”

You've been rubbing yourself against him and quietly panting. You just whispered, “Hmm.”

Once more, Soldier Boy gained complete control over your body and forced you to rub up against him while murmuring, “You wouldn't believe how many times I've fucked you without Temp-V.”

As gentle fingers ran through your hair, you muttered, “Was it good enough for you?”

“Perfect,” Soldier Boy responded with honesty.

“Protection?” you asked once again. It was difficult to comprehend what kind of power imbalance there might be between you and Soldier Boy during such times. He wasn't even aware how hard he grasped your hips until you warned him. 

“No,” to make it short, Soldier Boy's brought your body as close as his as he possibly could. You scowled as you saw his expression change. His voice had lost its tone of amusement and had become harsh. 

“Why?” 

“I'm a supe. There's no way I... could get you pregnant. Our DNA's are built differently.” Oh. 

Expressing verbally, a sort of rage entered Soldier Boy's heart. He couldn't recall the last time he had given an explanation for his inability to complete something. Even if he didn't intend to have children at that moment, it hurt his pride as a man to be unable to get you pregnant. He repeatedly filled you in a single day and continued to do so for months, but you were never able to conceive.

You said, “Okay,” in a whisper. Though he had made it plain, he did not explicitly state that the reason was that you were weaker than him. You were unable to overcome the anguish that was around your heart like a glass.

You couldn't stop thinking if the person you used to be had any plans to have a baby with him. You were startled that the thought didn't even slightly worry you as your mind raced with images of you, Soldier Boy, and a tiny baby. On the contrary, it kind of excited you. But it looks like the concept would remain a far-off fantasy that wouldn't ever come to pass. 

“So,” you began, hoping to get the conversation to go somewhere else. Your hands hesitantly touched his chest, then his iron belt, making contact with the star sign. “How about our negotiation?”

“Two months,” he said emphatically, as if nothing could make him reconsider at that very moment. 

If you weren't sitting on his lap while he stared at you longingly and with anticipation, you would have giggled at his inflexibility. You wanted to take some time and give it your all, even though you were aware of his earlier statements that he wouldn't love you in this way. 

You reached between his legs with your hands down. You could feel him tensing beneath you as your palms found his hardness through his jeans. He began to loosen his hold on your body when it became too tight since he clearly didn't want to harm you. 

“Two months is not enough,” you told him, lightly stroking his hardened cock with your palm against his trousers. 

With a swift moment, Soldier Boy shifted your positions and with an escaped gasp on your lips, you were under him, on the bed. He gently pushed your hair from your face and placed himself between your legs. Your eyes widened with surprise as he took your hand and put on his cock, making you to rub him through his pants.

Neglecting your words, Soldier Boy said, “Take it out.” He was already waiting for you to do something. “Now.”

Excitement flooded your body, so you followed his orders. After giving him a few more rubs to torment him, you unzipped his pants very slowly to get him more thrilled, though messing with a Supe wasn't a smart idea. 

“I thought you didn't want to touch me until I remembered everything,” you stated. “Why did you say it if you didn't mean it?”

“I decided to change my opinion, and why not? We used to bang five times in a row,” he snapped back. He truly never felt embarrassed over anything. Your body became hot when you attempted to figure out how you could take him so many times. 

You whispered, blushing at his bold remarks, “Don't you have a filter on your mouth?”

Soldier Boy said in your ear, “You should hear me when I'm inside you, swetheart,” as you finally succeeded in unipping his pants with trembling hands. You couldn't help but notice the longing on his face, his messy hair, and his hot breath. He was terribly good-looking and masculine. 

With a slight roughness in his voice, he thrust his hips toward your hand and seemed eager to continue. 

“Are you thinking about how much time you'll give me?” You inquired lightly, refusing to take him out of his suit no matter how many times he ordered you to continue. Soldier Boy shot you a cold stare right after. 

“Depends.” 

“On?” 

“Your little handiwork performance,” he stated with a brief smile that offered you his desire. 

With a hesitant smile back, your hands started to work on his pants to remove him. It was a play that you were both on. You two knew what was happening probably made you more thrilled than he was, and he would stop whenever you wanted him to, so it wasn't like he was pressuring you into doing anything you didn't want to. That was ingrained in your bones and feelings. 

You struggled to free him from his suit and were a little afraid of seeming foolish. Once some time had passed, you gave him a helpless glance. All Soldier Boy did was smirk mischievously over you. 

You said, “You could give a hand,” as your hands were a little aggressive on the material. 

“I thought that was what you're going to do.”

You surprised yourself by pulling his head to yourself and kissing him, refusing to let him torture you any longer. Thank goodness, Soldier Boy responded to your kisses instantly, and it didn't take long for his to take control and start making coarse noises within your mouth. 

You had no idea who was making louder noises or which of you was kissing each other harder. You were just aware that he was pressing you against the bed. He pulled back, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. During that moment, his lips remained on your neck, giving you a few gentle nibbles that left you whimpering.

You could feel the desire between your legs as Soldier Boy's hands frantically tugged at his clothes to get himself free. You were unsure if he would take you there.

Your phone rang in your pocket, and you realized that he was about to pull his cock out of his pants. As Soldier Boy was ready to pull down his pants, he grumbled in displeasure and halted, ignoring the phone ringing in your pocket. 

With a frantic “Oh, wait,” you attempted to shove his body away. 

Then Soldier Boy quickly took the phone from your pocket and glared at the screen with enraged eyes before letting you react. He stood up, leaving you on the bed by yourself, still gasping after the passionate interaction you had. You could tell who was calling by the way he looked across the room—it seemed like he was waiting for the right opportunity to enrage Soldier Boy even more. 

“You're a dead man,” muttered Soldier Boy as he held the phone up to his ear. “You and your worthless team.” Though it was barely audible, his voice was full of promise. 

Whispering, “Give it to me,” you hastily rose from the bed and attempted to take your phone from Soldier Boy's hands. 

It was obvious that Butcher was getting on Soldier Boy's nerves, even if you could only make out some of what he was saying. Butcher always had an ability of getting under people's skin. 

“How many lies you've told her, I don't know, but one thing is certain. You and your pitiful pets had best hide out in whatever shithole you are now in, because I'm going to kill you all.”

Soldier Boy eventually handed you the phone, ignoring everything Butcher was saying to him. As you waited for Butcher to speak, your pulse raced with thoughts and confusion, but you were at your breaking point. 

“I've called you a hundred times since yesterday,” you immediately complained. It was clear from your voice that you were disappointed. 

You paced the room, ignoring Soldier Boy as he observed you intently and zipped back his pants and straightened his suit. 

“We needed to exercise caution since he managed to catch you. Are you alright?” Butcher questioned it as if it were a common question. You were getting tired of his insensitive attitude already. 

You answered him harshly, “I need to talk to you in private,” ignoring his question.

“This is not the place for you to come. Sweetie, you'd put us all in danger.”

It was difficult to ignore the awful weight of rejection from someone who you still called friend and remembered with a heavy heart. You were aware that, for the most part, Soldier Boy was being truthful at that point. You were dumbstruck at how easily Butcher cast you aside while continuing to discuss safety.

“In somewhere else, of course,” you remarked coldly. “He will not follow me.”

You looked at Soldier Boy to see how he responded, but he was already seated and preoccupied with smoking weed aggressively across the room. Even though he occasionally sent you glares, you wanted to think he wouldn't break his promise to you. 

“Don't be so sure, honey,” Butcher sighed, unsure of how to handle the situation without putting the squad at risk by speaking with you. 

You said, emphasizing every syllable, “He's treating me good. We can meet in the house we all used to live in. I'll go there by myself. Alone.”

Butcher said, “Fine,” not wanting to talk about it any more. “Make sure you come here by yourself, baby,” he asked. Butcher owed you a conversation, even if he wasn't eager to meet you or risk running into Soldier Boy again when he really intended to kill him that much. Especially not after what he had done to both of you.

Of course, there were other topics to talk about.

Feeling relieved that he finally agreed, Butcher informed you when to meet and hang up without saying anything else. You were far too hurt to talk with him without coming out as fragile. After standing for a while staring at the screen of your phone and doing nothing, you turned to face Soldier Boy, who had already begun to drink. Then he looked at you. It was difficult to determine this time if his expression was one of hatred or rage. It was unclear if it was directed against Butcher, you, or both. 

You muttered, “I need to talk to him alone,” which gave you nothing to talk about. It was too much for you to handle.

You felt lost and alone once again.

Soldier Boy said, “Come here,” in a quiet voice. He sighed, seeing your mood drop and your smile fade. He detested seeing you so distressed and heartbroken. It would be simpler if you could just remember, but you were terrified. He couldn't figure out why.

Soldier Boy made you sit on his lap once again and gave you a tight embrace as if he could see what you were going through. Your head was on the cool material of his suit, where the eagle emblem was supposed to be. His warmth was relaxing and soothing.

You said, “He wants me to go to him alone,” hoping that he wouldn't provoke another argument once more.

Surprising you, he simply said, “Okay.”

“Just because I'm not going there with you for this time doesn't mean I won't murder him,” Soldier Boy firmly said, “He will pay for what he did to both of us. He and the others will die for that.”

You wanted nothing bad to happen to Butcher or the others, in spite of all that he had done to you. You knew you would never stay with Butcher again the moment he accepted the lies he'd told you. It did not, however, imply that you wanted his or the others' deaths. The only thing that would be lost would be trust, and that would be enough price.

You stated, “I don't want to talk about this right now,” implying that you didn't want to discuss Butcher or anybody else. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, so you decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tell Soldier Boy that you didn't want Butcher to die. 

He kissed your hair, and you closed your eyes with relief. He murmured, “Fine,” with a soothing voice. His roughness didn't make his arms and kisses seem unsafe.

You said, “But I can't stay here too,” keeping in mind that you would have had to see the Seven, Homelander, and their heinous deeds every day. The idea itself was dreadful. “I don't want anything related to the Seven or Vought.”

Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and remembered the last night you spent together, months ago, when everything was okay. At least your hatred for Vought and Homelander did not change. That was good enough. Although he too had no desire to interact with them, he was forced to do so due to the circumstances. For the time being. 

He continued, “We'll talk about such things later,” in a harsh voice, his hands lightly brushing your back as though he were trying to comfort you. 

“Where will I be staying?”

Soldier Boy scowled at your thoughts of living alone. “Obviously, not here.” As if he would let you go. 

With pride, he declared, “I own a place. We’ll stay there.” Though it didn't, it would have been preferable if things had gone as you two had hoped months ago. He wished he had purchased a house while you still remembered him. He would like to see your reaction.

You inhaled with gratitude upon learning that you would not be residing in Vought Tower. You could tolerate this as long as you didn't encounter Homelander and everyone. You were aware that Soldier Boy wouldn't allow you to go elsewhere, apart from him. Whatever had occurred or would happen, you had to confront it.

“Have you thought about the amount of time you'll give me?”

Soldier Boy took another look at the problem and groaned at your intransigent demeanor. He said, “Two and a half months,” playing with your hair and curling it with his fingers. “Not a single day more.”

“Make it three.”

“You are always greedy, aren't you?” He teased to lighten your mood. “Fuck it. Fine.”

“Will you tell me your name?” You asked in a low voice, realizing that you had never addressed him by name and recalling how disappointed he was when you couldn't recall it. You forced yourself to recall it till your brain hurt, but it was just impossible. You felt horrible about not being able to recall even one letter. 

You said, “Jack?” in an attempt to predict what he was going to say before he did. “Kevin? Eric?” 

“Fuck, quit saying other men names. Who the fuck are they?” He abruptly became irate and cut you off; jealousy was clearly taking over. 

“I don't know anyone with those names.” You said, playing with his possessive gaze as you raised your head to look at him. “Are you jealous?” 

“I am,” he declared firmly. The roughness in his tone made you giggle.

“You can forget everything—my face, my name, and even our memories—but you never forget that you are solely mine. You belong to me in your every version.”

Next Chapter

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[strewwwberry]

About to do a Rant on shen Jiu coz yeah, so ⚠️trigger warnings⚠️for, you know, him lol

(Additional tw please read beforehand even if its just a skim)

I personalize a lot of my writing to the viewer/reader, if you are someone who tends to input yourself into writing, whether purposely or not, please be aware that it may get uncomfortable or too personal to you, be aware of what you can read through and what is uncomfortable or you simply don’t like, stay safe ♡

Also apologies in advance if I project at all through this.

Shen Jiu's story has got to be one of the most tragic I've read, and not just for his slavery, abandonmet, sexual and physical abuse and then extortion after "freedom", and on top of that the old tale of the abused become the abuser. No, not just that, but because he was willing, he was 110% willing to ignore his feelings, brush aside his abuse an torture, everything, if Yue Qinguen just told him why he wasn't there, just gave him a reason, hell not even a reason, a goddam excuse to why he wasn't there.

He would've, he may not have been a good person even after the fact, actually I'd bet that he wouldn't be a "good person" at all. But, I belive that at the very least, it would've calmed his heart ENOUGH to not repeat the cycle of abuse, even If not for any reason but yue qingyuan.

Even as an adult he was still a child inside wanting the comfort of someone he trusted more than anything, and to be reassured that he wasn't abandoned, that his qi-ge was just late.

And to make it worse, he was, yue qingyuan was simply late. He pushed to hard to quickly, refused to ask for help, refused to explain, got himself in a deadly situation, was late and continued to not explain himself but instead give a look of pity and a stupid sorry every single time as if that changes anything.

Now to go into that, that look of pity. I can literally feel in my soul how fucking cruel that was to have done to Shen qingqiu. Imagine you make it out alive through being sold into slavery, abused in all ways possible, had to fight your way out because your one and only wasnt able to, got basically kidnapped and then further used, escaped THAT, and finally made it to a sect where you see your one and only, hoping that no he couldn't have left me... Did he? No he didnt abandon you, there must be a reason. But nothing, just pathetic apologies constantly. He must've thought himself above me, I'll prove him wrong. You make it to be a head disciple on your way to be a Peak Lord, an impeccable position and a near impossible accomplishment for an ex slave, and still nothing, just pity.

Then you finally get to the top, your on your way to Ascension, already immortal despite being too old to even cultivate when you started and your qi-system (whatever it's called) is absolutely wrecked (miracle you can even cultivate, an insane improbability to have made at to a golden core and immortality). But still, even after all you've been through and persevered through, pity, pity for a man who made it. Pity for a man who went through hell and still fucking made it.

I'm just saying, I'd be mad too.

But no, it doesn't end, of course it doesn't.

Your anger reaches a point unmanageable, you refuse to explain, no one explained anything to you and they won't listen anyway! refuse to try because what good could it do? No one will believe me anyway what's the point? Only friends are brothel ladies, who you pay to be with you, you get called a pervert and a lecher for caring for these woman and that girl disciple of yours who you take pride and comfort in. Are you a pervert and a lecher? Is that true? Only you really know.

And then this bastard kid she just had to point out.

Shen Jiu, refused to acknowledge his REAL flaws and blamed everyone else for everything even when it truly does end up his fault. What. Is he just supposed to deny or admit anything? Of course not! Let them belive whatever the hell they want, I've always acted this way making me seem untrustworthy and because they're hypocrites they wont try to find out why anyway, and I'm always the victim.

Which he was for a long time.

But then he wasn't, not really no, still a victim or course, but right now, with his standing and power?

and then even though they were in the wrong, his refusal to try (understandable but still) was his own choice, his refusal to at least get along with them, not start fights, not ostracize and critisize in the form of snide commentary. No one made him did that, he was traumatized and a child, yes, so was it understandable? Of course! Was it still his own actions that even as an adult he refused to stop, let alone apologize for, even if not literally apologizing? Yes, yes it was.

And then a child. Whose had it rough. Maybe not (yet) as rough as you, but rough. And then to abuse that kid, torture and isolate that child become he was so lucky to have had a mother? A mother who, although still his mother, wasn't even blood? And because his eyes reflected that of a monster, his name reminding you of your abuser just like how your own now does to. hes too much like me, that look just can't be humane, he must be a monster. And you know what you were right he was a half demon child. But not even a demon deserved to be pushed into the abyss to die, no child not even a demon child deserved what you but him through.

That is not how that works. You hand him over to the water prison and figure it out, because the laws are fucked but at least that's something then just acting how you think is right even when you know its not. But no you had to, because what would they say, harboring a monster, you must be one to.

Then on top of all that, you swore to yourself that once you got your peak Lord name, you'd bury your past like you literally just spawned in the moment it's given. And then failed to bury it. Because life isn't that easy. But for once you just wish it was. You wanted to kill that child, so for the one that reminds you to much of yourself? You'll kill that one instead.

Shen jiu doesn't deserve excuses, hell he doesn't even want people to make excuses for him, not for himself and not from anyone else (except if that excuse Is qi-ge giving him so much as "I got caught up drinking my hella fancy tea, I dint mean to leave you there") .

But he was tragic.

He was human, so very human. A human playing the part of a trancendial being. A human boy in the appearance of someone untouchable and inconceivable.

Playing this act means no one can use nor abuse you.

Now, no one can hurt you,

Not anymore.

...

But they still did

[obsessedelusional]

Your Own Little Secret

parings ✦ eddie x reader

summary ✦ Chrissy asks a favor of you which somehow leads to you forming a secret relationship with Eddie Munson. When you two make it official, you decide it’s time to make it public.

authors note ✦ first time writing smut so hopefully it’s not terrible lol appreciate any feedback or reblogs

masterlist

The last three weeks of your life were spent entangled in Eddie’s web. It all started when Chrissy asked if you could meet him the woods to pick up her weekly pickup from none other than Eddie Munson. It came to a surprise to you when she confided in you that she smoked, even more of a surprise that it happened so often. She never gave off that type of vibe but you felt honored she trusted you enough to let you in on her little secret. So you reluctantly agreed which lead you to having your own little secret; Eddie.

Chrissy’s mother picked her up early from school when she had plans to meet Eddie out in the woods after cheer practice. A quick phone call lead to you meeting him in the woods. You had just left the gymnasium where cheer practice was held still in your practice cheer shorts and school branded t-shirt. Walking through the forest on a small dirt path. You had never been back here before, this area which had a reputation where students would disappear to hookup with each other. Or exchange cash for weed, apparently.

As you walk down the unfamiliar path all you can think about is how your on your way to buy weed. Your mind races, slightly terrified but Chrissy reassured you she’d done this 100 times and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Expecting to see Eddie when the path opens up to a clear area of the forest. Only a few metal tables sat in the center. Unsure of what to do you sat down at one, looking around for any sign of him. The sound of leaves being stepped on startles you.

“Not the cheerleader I was expecting to see out here.” Eddie says from behind you, your nerves growing. He quickly walks up behind you and sits right next to you, an unsure smile on his face.

Uncomfortably laughing your hands resting in front you, “Chrissy sent me in replacement. Her mom picked her up early so she couldn’t make it. Said I could drop it off at hers on my way home. I have cash, she said twenty would be enough, is it enough?” You notice Eddie staring all while you physically can’t shut up. He must of noticed how anxious you are because his hands rest with yours. “Sorry I don’t know why I’m rambling.”

“Are you okay? You seem nervous.” He smiles causing you to smile back. Pulling away to start rummaging through the small metal tin he brought with him.

“Just slightly terrified.”

“Of?” He asks curiously, trying to read you.

“You and this whole situation.”

“Me?” He gasps grabbing his heart, pretending to be upset. Immediately you start to profusely apologizing thinking you actually hurt his feelings. Once he realizes how worked up you got he bursts out into laughter. “I’m just givin’ ya shit.”

You roll your eyes in response, slapping his shoulder. He winches like he’s so much pain, pain spreads across his face. “I’m not falling for your theatrics again.”

“Fine,” he sighs giving up on his little show. A few moments of silence fall between you two. “So she want her regular?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“And she knows my name?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“Of course I do.”

“That’s crazy.”

“My first day at Hawkins, my freshman year. I approached you and asked you where the office was and you so kindly escorted me. Of course I remember you.”

“Then you said you’d see me around. I never saw you around.” He sighs dramatically.

“Thats the same day I met Chrissy. We’ve been inseparable since. Sorry.” You genuinely feel bad it’s been two years since you last spoke to Eddie. It’s not like you didn’t think of him from time to time. He was constantly making a scene where ever he went, couldn’t help but notice him. Couldn’t help but admire how he was so authentically himself, never cared who was around. Also didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. So when he was flaunting around the cafeteria you’d always take that opportunity to stare. Plus on several occasions you’d get Jason to back off.

“It’s fine. You can make it up to me now.” He smiles softly pulling you out of your own thoughts.

“How so?”

“Let me take you out.” He tries so hard to read you reaction.

“Really?”

“I mean unless you don’t want too.” When you didn’t instantly say yes he wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“I do.”

“You do?” Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.” You smile. Eddie jumps up from his seat and starts cheering.

“Sorry that was lame.”

“No it wasn’t.” You laugh.

—

After a few dates around town and you two were attached. Everyday after cheer practice he’d be waiting for you, stood outside his van. You’d run up and engulf him in a hug. His hands never failing to find their way to your ass. Seeing you in those cheer shorts drove him crazy. When Friday rolled around and you’d show up to school wearing that cheer uniform, it would drive Eddie absolutely nuts. He’d watch from afar so turned on counting down the minutes till he could have you all to himself.

Today was no different when he picked you up after the football game claiming that they weren’t his scene hence why he wasn’t there to watch you cheering. It was late and knowing that you didn’t have long before your parents would be calling asking where you were. You two wasted no time. As soon as you climbed into his passenger seat, his hands were all over you. Roaming every inch of your body. You pull away momentarily only to move to the back.

Eddie laid down to which you quickly straddle him. His hand slipped under your skirt, through your underwear and between your folds. “So fucking wet for me.”

“For you.” You purr, letting your self grind down on his hand. “But I want to please you.” He didn’t argue, watching closely as you slowly lowered your self. You unzip his pants, he dick already hard trapped in his jeans. Palming it through the thin layer of his boxers. Eddie’s whole body tenses under your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. Having you to himself in the most intimate way possible.

You pull his boxers down revealing his large member. Using your hand to pump him, precum slipping out of his tip. Eddie groans under your touch, giving you the confidence you need to give a sweet kiss to his tip before devouring it. Sucking up and down, Eddie’s hands finding their way to the back of your head pushing down. You gag and push up, spitting the salvia building up at the back of your throat on his member before going back at it.

He doesn’t want it to stop but he needs it to stop other wise he’ll be coming in your mouth. Which he wouldn’t mind but he wanted desperately to be inside you. He lifts your face and pulls you closer to kiss you, making out for several moments. Your tongues fighting for dominance. “I need you now.” You murmur, pulling down your panties. Aligning his cock with you cunt, sliding down slowly taking him all in.

“Fuck.” Eddie moans, his voice raspy. You start riding him, up and down. Grinding on him, his hands slip under your shirt caressing your tits. You take the hint and remove your cheer shirt exposing your chest. Pulling you closer he takes your nipple into his mouth, the other one being fondled. You become a moaning mess under his touch. The sound of your nipple leaving his mouth makes a popping sound.

Eddie comes to realization he’s not gonna last much longer but he’s a gentleman so obviously you need to come first. He helps you switch positions, pulling his pants all the way off and now he’s on top. You can’t help but whine when his cock leaves your hole. Doesn’t take long before he slams his cock back between your folds, you cry out in pleasure. His fingers start rubbing your clit as he picks up the pace. “How does that feel princess?”

Your lack of response tells him everything he needs to know. He circles your clit over and over again, the feeling of your pussy tightening on his dick let’s him know it’s near. Doesn’t take long before your climaxing. Shortly after that he’s pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He kisses you softly before reaching for a rag and cleaning you off. You get dress back in your uniform as you watch Eddie get back into his clothing.

Eddie lays next to you and you rest your head on his chest wrapping your arm around him waist and attempt to regain your composure. “You’re so fucking amazing. How’d I get so damn lucky?”

“Just being you.” You smile.

“Is that enough though?” He questions a change his tone is noted. Eddie decides in this moment to talk to you about what he’s been wondering for some time now.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I feel like your ashamed of me.” Eddie sighs.

“Why do you think that?” You ask saddened by his tone. You sit up so you can see his face.

“Because I only see you after school and never in front of your friends.”

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to be around them. I tried to invite you to games and stuff but you never seemed interested. I didn’t realize you wanted more than whatever this is. Part of me thought you were ashamed of me.” You explain.

“What is this?” Eddie asks the question he’s been dreading.

“What do you want us to be?” You ask pushing it back onto him.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He admits.

“Are you gonna ask me?” You smile because you’ve been waiting for this moment.

“Are you going to say yes?” He’s ask.

“I dunno guess you’re gonna have to ask to find out.” You shrug your shoulders, trying your best not to be giddy with excitement.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, shyly.

“Yes of course,” you beam, “I thought you’d never ask me.”

“If I known how you felt I would’ve asked sooner. Plus I’d never be ashamed of you.” You push your self up and kiss him. Your phone starts to ring bringing you out of your moment with Eddie. You pull away groaning annoyed.

“Who is it?” Eddie ask.

“My mom.” You quickly answer and let her know you’ll be home soon. As soon as you hang up, “Can you take me home, Eds?”

“Of course, princess.”

—

The next day rolls around, you arrive early to school eager to speak with Chrissy. You find her and ask, “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?” She smiles.

“Like alone. I need your help.” You mutter. Her face fills with concern as she follows you down the hallway. As soon as you two were alone she looks to you waiting for you to speak.

“What’s up?” She asks again, her curiosity killing her.

“Ya know how that one time I went to pick up weed for you from Eddie?”

“Yeah.” She nods.

“We’ll we’ve been kind of hanging out since and last night he asked me out like officially and I said yes.” The biggest smile grows on her face causing you to be confused.

“Finally.” She smiles, grinning ear to ear. Pulling you into a hug.

“What do you mean finally?” I ask still being consumed by her hug.

“It was a set up.” She laughs.

“What?”

“I caught you constantly checking him out and I know him from buying. So I brought you up in front of him to see his reaction and he got all flustered. Told me some story about you asking for help on your first day, been smitten with you since.” You’re shocked at all this new information but not upset in the slightest since it lead to you dating Eddie.

“Eddie knew?”

“No. It was all me,” She giggles, “What did you need help with then?”

“I thought originally he didn’t want to be public with because of me being friends with all the popular people. So I never bothered him about being public with him which made him think I was ashamed of him which obviously I’m not. I could never be. I just don’t know what to do. I want him to know I’m not ashamed. I feel like I need to make some public display of affection.” Chrissy cuts you off.

“Ask him to the dance in front of everyone.”

“But shouldn’t boys ask girls?” You ask, some what nervous at the thought of doing that.

“It’ll be prefect. It’s Sadie’s, girls ask boys. We can make you a sign and everything. Do it at lunch! Kiss him in front of everyone. Let everyone know he’s yours.” She squeezes you shoulders, getting more excited as she thinks of everything you need to do and how she can help you.

“That sounds like a great idea.” You smile nervously. She grabs your hand and drags you to the art class room.

—

You nervously shake waiting for Eddie to show up into the lunch room. Chrissy stands near by cheering you on giving you reassuring thumbs up. You glance her way and she points to the entrance where Eddie is entering.

Chrissy presses play on the speaker she brought, the Lord of The Rings music she found online and had absolutely no idea it was accurate it starts to play. Eddie looks over to where the music came from seeing Chrissy who nods in your direction, he gaze follows and sees you standing there holding the sign you made with Chrissy’s help.

It reads ‘You shall not pass… Unless you go to Sadie’s with me.’ Another thing you found online that meant nothing to you but knew it meant something to Eddie. He talked about this book several times, you we’re confident he’d love it.

Eddie’s confusion quickly turns into happiness when he realizes what is happening. A small crowd starts to form as you ask, “Do you want to go to Sadie’s with me?” You say loud and proud when you see the smile on his lips, he approaches only a few inches away from you.

“Yes,” He grins. You drop the sign and grab his face pulling him down to your level give him the biggest kiss. It takes him a moment, because he’s probably in shock, to kiss you back but once he does he melts into your touch.

You’re the one to pull away when you realize people are cheering for you two. You look to Chrissy whose cheering the hardest, like her plan came to fruition. You grab Eddie’s hand and people start to disperse. Chrissy approaches you two, “Thank you.” You say giving her a quick hug.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“I’ll explain later. I’m gonna sit with Eddie today and his friends.” You let Chrissy know before leading Eddie to where he usually sat at lunch. His friends watch in awe as you sit down next to Eddie.

“What?” You laugh.

“We didn’t believe him.” Dustin says, shock still evident. You look over to Eddie who looks as happy as he can be, you squeeze his hand tightly before speaking.

“Better believe it. You’re gonna see so much more of me.”

[ghcstao3]

Have you ever done a Vampire!Soap with Human ghost before 👀👀

i don’t believe i have! that has now been changed

-

Let it be known that Ghost is not a coward.

Over the years he’s grown desensitized to so much that hardly anything scares him. He knows only how to incite fear, not feel it, and he certainly has no fear of Soap.

It just happens that the idea of the sergeant being a vampire makes him a little… squeamish.

Most days, Ghost can forget about the fact that his sergeant isn’t human. He can forget about the spare bags of blood stored in the back of the common room fridge just for him, he can forget that his strength is superhuman when Soap still loses their spars.

He can forget, until they’re deployed and Ghost sees Soap sinking his teeth into the enemy, ripping open their throats with fangs instead of any manmade weapon. He can forget, until Soap’s eyes, normally a vivid, lively blue, flash a bloodthirsty red as he feeds, as he has yet to come down from a rampage.

Ghost isn’t afraid of those moments, he’s not. He’s not afraid of Soap. The sergeant just makes Ghost feel all the more human.

But whatever it is he feels, whatever it is that’s making him wary, Ghost never confronts it. He never lets show his discomfort around Soap whenever he’s suddenly too aware of the man’s vampirism. Doesn’t need to.

They work just fine together.

Until it all comes to a head, after a particularly gruelling mission.

They’d underestimated the demand of the mission, landing Ghost and Soap alone, exhausted, after nearly two weeks of nonstop action. Their transport is hours out, Soap has been incessantly scratching his arms, and Ghost may or may not be in need of medical attention.

Overall, things could be better. Significantly.

“Would you quit that?” Ghost snaps. The sound of the scraping of Soap’s nails against his skin is grating.

Soap freezes. Slowly lowers his arms, revealing red, irritated lines left behind. He looks almost sheepish, hunching in on himself in a way that makes him look small, shy, like Ghost has never known him to be.

“Sorry,” the sergeant apologies. “Haven’t fed in a while.”

Ghost frowns, turning to finally give Soap a proper look.

Soap looks paler than usual, cheeks gaunt, under-eyes a deep purple. Ghost’s brows knit together.

“You didn’t bring any spare?”

Soap shrugs helplessly. “Don’t usually need it. Usually there’s hostiles to solve that problem,” he mutters.

“But you have some back on base, yeah?”

Soap nods. Ghost sighs.

“That’ll do, then.”

Ghost has the brief idea to offer help, but it’s disregarded almost as fast as it crosses his mind. He reasons he can’t because he’s already bleeding—and he’s sure Soap can smell it—but Ghost knows it’s not really the why.

When transport finally arrives, Ghost is constantly sending glances over to Soap, who drags his feet as they climb into the Humvee. He throws out concerned looks the entire way back, but eventually loses the chance to continue worrying when they return to base, as Ghost is dragged away to have his wounds checked.

He forgets about it, like everything else to do with the vampire, until Ghost discovers Soap pacing in the common room in front of a refrigerator that had been just about completely torn apart.

“Soap,” Ghost calls.

Soap doesn’t answer.

“Johnny!” Ghost barks.

The sergeant stops mid-step. He pivots on his heel to face Ghost, chewing on nails with fangs that somehow look duller. His eyes are wide, and noticeably crimson, and the wild look on his face almost has Ghost… scared.

“Sit-rep,” Ghost demands weakly.

Soap is trembling. “Someone threw it all out.”

Ghost could very well guess what he’s referring to. Still, he asks, “Threw what out, sergeant?”

“My…” Soap casts an almost forlorn glance toward the fridge and its emptied-out contents. “It’s gone.”

Ghost huffs. “When’s the last time you’ve fed, Johnny?”

Again, that timid expression reappears on Soap’s face. He wraps his arms around himself, though it does nothing to hide the way he shakes.

“A month,” Soap murmurs.

Ghost doesn’t like that he drinks blood. Doesn’t like that it’s another person’s life force that fuels him. But he still feels pity. Sympathy.

Vampire or not—he’s still Soap. And he looks on the brink of a second death.

“Need to be more responsible, sergeant,” Ghost says carefully, slowly. He takes a step toward Soap, and tries to do his best to ignore the ache in his heart when Soap moves backward.

“I know.” Soap’s head dips in an aborted half-nod, refusing to meet Ghost’s gaze. “‘M sorry.”

Ghost takes another step. This time, Soap remains glued in place.

“Don’t apologize,” Ghost scolds. He softens, then, with a quiet sigh. “Can you ask anyone to…?”

Soap shakes his head. “Gaz ‘n’ Price are deployed,” he says. “Don’t trust anyone else.”

It’s a split-second decision that has Ghost blurting out the option he’d hope to never propose. “What about me?”

Soap’s eyes snap up to Ghost’s, startled. Still red, but somehow transformed into the eyes of prey. “You…?”

Ghost swallows thickly. “You’ll… you need it, so—“

“I cannae… cannae ask that of you,” Soap croaks. Though he doesn’t really need oxygen, Soap’s breathing is erratic, almost like some animalistic part of his brain had been unleashed, finally unlocked once the idea of being fed has become real again. The refusal is only to be polite, Ghost is sure of it.

His heartbeat is loud in his own ears. It’s probably louder in Soap’s.

Slowly, never once taking his eyes off Soap, Ghost pushes up a sleeve and offers out his forearm to the sergeant. His jaw ticks, watching Soap carefully.

Soap hesitates. For a long moment, Ghost begins to think Soap would rather hope he’d get blood some other way than taking from Ghost—but then, tentatively, he grabs ahold of Ghost’s wrist and steps closer, before bringing the lieutenant’s arm to his lips.

The initial prick of sharpened fangs has Ghost wincing, but after a moment of adjusting to the strange sensation of Soap’s feeding—it isn’t nearly as horrible as Ghost had imagined it to be. Especially not when Ghost is more focused on the healthy flush of colour that returns to Soap’s cheeks, and the warmth that finds his palms.

But with blood comes a renewed vigour and strength, and Ghost has to attempt to wrench Soap off of him when his knees start to feel weak. But he finds no success—instead suffering from a roaring panic that had always existed under the surface, fearful of something like this ever happening.

Then, mercifully, only a few seconds later Soap seems to sense the change. Seems to recognize he’s taken all he’d be able to without hurting Ghost. He pulls off Ghost’s wrist, licking the wound until the skin knits together without blemish. He swipes his tongue over his owns lips afterward, now stained a deep scarlet.

His pupils are blown wide. What’s visible of his irises are… their usual blue.

Unlike every other time Soap comes off feeding.

Ghost hardly notices that he’s being moved to the common room’s ratty sofa after a moment, a strong, supporting arm snaked around his waist. Soap sits with him, thumb tracing gentle circles into Ghost’s side—a gesture far more intimate than Ghost wants to think about.

“I’m sorry,” Soap is whispering. “I’m sorry, I’m—“

“Why?” Ghost tilts his head, incidentally sending a new wave of dizziness through his system—but he pays it no mind. “Offered t’ help, didn’t I?”

Soap gapes, mouth bobbing open and shut as he tries and fails to find his words.

Ghost shrugs to himself more than anything, slumping further into Soap’s side. A weight suddenly tugs at his eyelids, and they fall sleepily closed. He feels fine, really. Lightheaded at most.

“Jus’ don’t let it happen again, Johnny,” he mumbles.

Ghost doesn’t think Soap notices his hold getting tighter. He’s not certain either of them really care.

“‘Course not, LT,” Soap says.

Ghost falls asleep to the comforting pressure of Soap surrounding him.

He’s not sure if he’ll feel any less afraid when he wakes up.

(part 2)

[asgardian--angels]

I don't talk about this much but I'm just going to say it now.

there's something uniquely vile about being the daughter of a father who is a trump supporter. and not just a casual supporter, a full drank-the-kool-aid moon-landing-was-fake deep red neonazi maga crackpot. because I had to watch that change happen over the last decade. my father, an intelligent, introspective scientist, whose brain has essentially turned to mush and critical thinking skills shriveled up and died thanks to that orange rapist.

He has always loved me, supported me to be whatever I want to be, given me the most opportunities he could in life. He taught me to be kind, and forgiving, and to remember that we are all in this together. And now, while still claiming to feel that way, he vehemently, and viciously, spews hateful rhetoric and vitriol against women, against climate change, against democrats, against all the things I am, against the field of study I've dedicated my life, my soul to. We can no longer even have a regular conversation because all he does all day is sit online and watch trump rallies, listen to 'patriot' podcasts, and troll people on forums. He has nothing else to talk about, and cannot be negotiated with. Him and I used to love having sparring matches of wit, picking topics to debate in good faith. Now, any hint of a challenge and he becomes enraged, petty, and belittling. He somehow maintains this hypocritic fallacy in his mind that he is a good person, that he does everything to make my life better, and that humankind must come together to make a better future. Just, not *those* people, I guess, not them or them or them who aren't even people to him.

And I must occupy some gray area in his mind, Schrodinger's political prisoner. Because even though he knows I am a democrat, that I am a woman who will be affected by these laws, that I study climate change in the work that he supposedly supports, I must not be to him, one of 'those' people. I'm not like 'those' democrats, 'those' women, 'those' climate change cronies. Except when I am, because if we argue, if we discuss policy at all, I am just a girl, under his roof, and I have no idea what I'm talking about - because I'm young, because women aren't capable of understanding His greatness, because Elite Academia has brainwashed me into being a liberal. That my mom and I are ganging up on him, constantly, to paint him as the villain when he's only the victim. He's going to elect the man who will save us all, whether we want it or not. Our say doesn't matter, because we just don't understand.

I miss the father I knew. He was always petty, always ready to poke and prod - he hurt my feelings plenty, but I could deal with it. But I felt he was genuinely good at his core, that he tried his best. Now, I don't know him. I don't recognize him anymore. I've imagined so many times what I would say to him if I could give a speech, or write a letter, where he could not talk back and just had to listen. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, or take it. But I know he has truly no idea how hurt and betrayed I am, and he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He knows no shame, and he does not apologize.

I'm not looking forward to spending the winter at home with him every day for two months. I don't see how I can look him in the eye. And how dare he look me in the eye after fucking me over.

I love my father, no matter what, and that's why it hurts me so badly to see him change into a stranger, and wonder if there was anything more I could have done to change his mind before this transformation completed. Knowing that it's not my responsibility to argue with him to try and make him see reason when he's too far gone and all it does is make me feel like shit, and yet.

I'm sorry to everyone who may relate to this within their own families. It's probably going to get worse. These men will feel empowered to speak their minds and force you to hear it. They try to provoke you, just so they can say you're hysterical or overreact as women do, when you get reasonably upset. Know that you're not alone in this, Trump has truly torn families apart in ways that I don't think will ever heal.

[shadowqueenjude]

“Bitch” wow! I don’t see the reason for getting so heated over these characters. They don’t actually exist you know? You’re not defending anyone’s honour or being some saint here. I didn’t mean anything in a bad way, I was trying to have a rational conversation because I’ve never come across an IC hater and wanted to know why you didn’t like them. But obviously having a rational conversation is out of your zone of abilities since it didn’t take a lot for you to get down to name calling. My only suggestion to you because I truly wish the best for you is control that anger and learn to listen to other people before someone shows you your place. It won’t be nice. Good luck bbg ��💜

You're the one coming in anon and shitting on characters that I like. What did you expect??? I'm going to defend my characters, obviously. You want my dissertation on why I hate each member of the Inner Circle? Let's start with captain asshole Rhysand: Rhysand: Sexually assaulted Feyre, did not apologize, licked Amarantha's boots for fifty years to "protect" no one since he only rules 1/3 of his court. He claims to be uber powerful yet he can't control misogyny within 2/3 of his court. But it's totally fine to go into Tarquin's house, steal an important possession, then act superior later when his wife's antics in Spring caused Summer to be invaded. Pretends to give his wife a "choice" while not giving her crucial information, i.e. that he wouldn't be helping her out with the Weaver at all. Locked Lucien in a house, made rape jokes about his mother, altogether treated him like shit for no reason. Then the Inner Circle acts all shocked and furious that their "masks" as "bad guys" fooled everyone and act violent towards literally everyone not Inner Circle there. Rhysand forcibly shut Tamlin's mouth, Feyre burned Lucien and Eris's innocent mother, Azriel nearly choked Eris to death. Ironically, Cassian acted the most sane here. After Tamlin saved Feyre and Rhysand's lives multiple times, Rhysand has the gall to tell Tamlin to kill himself despite knowing they'll need him as an ally, which is a terrible thing to do and also made Lucien's life harder. ACOSF he locks Nesta in a house and hides the malignant nature of his wife's pregnancy from her. That's just the gist of it. Cassian: Rhysand's dog. He need to grow a fucking spine. He never defends Nesta in front of Rhysand, and constantly abuses her physically and mentally. Won't let her eat sugar, forces her to train, tells her everyone hates her, makes her hike a fucking mountain for having the nerve to disobey rhysand and tell feyre the truth she deserved to hear. Then again in HOFAS not defending Nesta in front of Rhysand when he was screaming at her for giving away the trove and telling her she should've killed Bryce instead. THAT. IS. YOUR. MATE. He treats all the women in his life better than her, like mor and feyre. Azriel: A fucking weirdo violent creep. He needs to man tf up and admit Lucien is the superior man. His creeping on Mor for 500 years when she's clearly not interested is not cute. Nor is choking Eris to death in an important political meeting. Nor is treating Elain like a helpless object and masturbating to a gag gift he gave her. I'lL dEfEaT hIm WiTh LiTtLe EfFoRt boi stfu no you can't and Lucien has done NOTHING to you. I have absolutely ZERO respect for a character who treats the nicest guy in the series like that. Elain is not a child to be fought over. He's so pathetically jealous that Lucien is a good dude and has a mate and is better than him at everything. He needs to admit his homoerotic desire for Lucien and get it over with. Or let Eris humble him. Either way. Mor: the biggest hypocrite of all time. I aM a DrEaMeR aNd I gOt OuT so did it ever occur to you that maybe you're not the only dreamer? You're not even going to try to save good people stuck under the Court of Nightmares or ask your High Lord to? You just write them off because you're the only good one? And you want to throw Nesta into the court of nightmares? You don't do shit when Cassian is harassing Nesta? You're a bitch and not a girl's girl at all. If there's ANYTHING women should be united on, it's creepy dudes. ESPECIALLY if one of them is your best friend. Amren: this bitch should've stayed dead after ACOWAR. How dare she talk to Nesta the way she did in ACOSF? She KNEW how much Nesta was hurting and she did it anyway. She's over 15 thousand years old. What a bitch. They're all part of an elitist establishment and the epitome of modern politics that needs to be destroyed. Oh, I'm sorry? Should I apologize for saying "bitch" when you're the one coming in hot on my anons? How about you get a life besides harassing people who disagree with you first?

[dreamwritersworld]

Outgrown. Final part. (Miles morales x reader)

“Hey-“

Y/n attempted on closing the door but Miles stopped it so all she did was walk away letting him in.

“Please just let me say what I have to-“

“Say? You already did enough Miles. I don’t need anymore apologies or excuses. I’m busy.”

Miles took a moment to look at the textbooks spread out on the small coffee table and uncleaned dishes on the dinner table.

“I know that! Y/n please I’m sorry-“

“Y/n! We’re done!”

Miles was once again interrupted by the children letting Y/n know to help them.

“Ok miles. Just- stay here.”

His apology seemed genuine but…Y/n was so closed off to it, she wouldn’t allow him in so easily. Miles stayed in the living room for 15 minutes picking up the mess that was previously there while Y/n helped her siblings get ready for bed. He immediately froze hearing her footsteps..

“Look miles, I know what you’re gonna say. We’ve been through this before-“

“Please Y/n just let me finish what I had to say. I like-“

“Y/n!!!!! Lita hit me on purpose!”

Yet another interruption came across the pair, Y/n rushed into the bedroom of her two siblings as a calm Lita walked out nonchalantly sitting down of the counter opening a coloring book.

“I didn’t hit him! The book just fell on his head by accident!…so miles...”

Miles head turned towards a stern Lita with the most annoyed face. Lita was never one to beat around the bush.

“you messed up..terribly. But Don’t worry she likes your smile and fancy hair..I know, I read her diary.”

“She thinks it’s fancy?..”

“yup.”

Right then and there Lita gave his confidence right back to him and the little girl walked back out the kitchen knowing Y/n was coming back…she always did.

“Go to sleep-“

“I know! Don’t forget to tuck me in!”

Lita walked away and Y/n walked towards Miles bracing herself for the conversation.

When Y/n opened that door and saw miles her heart started to roll back to him and wanted more than just words. He was her heaven and hell. She wanted to ignore everything telling her to not come back.

“I love you Y/n and I know that doesn’t mean too much to you anymore. This last month has been terrible without you and I’m so sorry for saying things that aren’t true. You leaving was my reality check that not everyone was going to sit around and watch me cry and whine over someone who wasn’t there for me anymore….but you were. I love you for that, I love you for your family, for all that you do.”

Tears built up as both teens look at each other but Y/n tried so hard to just push him away…he was easy to love…but he was closed off and not easy to get love back from.

For miles he was willing to travel across the whole world for you, he just couldn’t see it and now he wants nothing more then you coming back to him.

“W-we can’t. We won’t, miles. I’m too busy, I have so much things going on. Our schedules and worlds aren’t the same right now. We’ve outgrown each other and that’s ok…you just realized it far too late.”

The last line burned into Miles heart and he was ready to accept his defeat…Y/n leaving and saying these words were enough punishment for all the things he’s done…but if he left now, he’d be giving her up on her too easily.

“We’ll make it work Y/n! I accept all of you. I’ve been watching you everyday for the past month, I know the new route you take home after hours of work. I see you taking care of Juan and Lita constantly. I know the reason why there was so many books on the table was because you’re tryin to pass all your exams. I know you’re feeling stressed and overworked…I know you’re trying to do better for everyone but Y/n your already perfect. You’re it for me.”

“Miles I can’t quit you…”

More tears and sobs fell from Y/n as miles stated all the actions and feelings Y/n had.

You see?…even with all the disagreements the pair had miles always gave Y/n a secure comfort spot. Much how Y/n was his way back to reality…he was her way to get away from it. They fit perfectly but too much built emotion pushed them away.

Miles rushed in hugging Y/n, suffocating her in his love and comfort in which Y/n couldn’t deny anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

That’s all he kept repeating to her as Y/n sulked into his arms. Within that moment Y/n went back to him. Once the tears went away the two looked at each other and shared a kiss, melting into each other.

Miles walked them back to the sofa and had them both fall onto it, sharing a laugh and now tears of happiness fell from Y/n.

“why are you crying..?”

“because I love you too..”

“I want my goodnight kiss too Y/n!!”

Their laughs soon became annoyed groans as they both get up and turn to Lita as she looks at them with a uninterested face.

“What? You promised me.”

Lita walked away with a stomp in her feet and crossed arms while Y/n got up from miles, walking away back to her duties.

She was walking mindlessly but turned to the sound of his footsteps.

“You can wait there Miles it’s fine I just gotta tuck them in.”

“I know I can but..I said I’d be here to love all of you didn’t i? I’ll help you.”

Y/n turned around quickly giving him one more hug and held his hand gently guiding him inside the room.

Both younger siblings were tucked in and as they walked out Juan and lita spoke again.

“Goodnight lovebirds!”

The door was shut quickly by Y/n in embarrassment as her cheeks heat up, turning red.

“Lovebirds huh? I like that name.”

Miles couldn’t get enough of the laugh and smiles Y/n let out, he embraced her one more time before saying goodnight and go.

They had outgrown each other…but they made another garden full of love.

!💜!

so sorry it took awhile to post I been studying for exams and this is my first week of summer 🫶 for some reason it’s not letting me tag some of you and I’m so sorry 🥲

Tag list: @justleila @tati-the-fangirl @kxllanxtdoor @abbersreads @abislays123 @not-aya @usernamepasswordsstuff @moralesluvrr @inluvwithneteyam @twinkletwinklenotastar @ilystarz @vodoo-heart @papichulo120627 @mashiromochi @sukisprettyface @sonaya101 @dorck26 @seokjinspinkslipper @planetliaa

[shadowfloofster]

Bad's character is SO interesting yet so tragic but it's rarely noticed, even by a large majority of the ghosties as it happens.

(all /rp and no neg to anyone)

Bad worked SO hard to help the island from the moment the eggs joined. He's been coming up with ways to protect the eggs, he's got nearly every item possible, has always been happy to equip anyone with what they need and has always been up to babysitting without even being asked because he wanted to make sure all the kids are safe and alive.

Yet during the election arc, people constantly said how Forever did the most for the island because his stuff was the most obvious. Bad's contribution was hardly mentioned at all because they were less obvious to people.

He might have won the islanders vote, but he lost overall by a single vote. In his mind, it doesn't matter, he lost and that's it.

He starts his 'vacation' arc that was a cover for his mental breakdown as he lost his chance to have Skeppy, his main anchor to emotional stability. So he builds statues of Skeppy to help cope. And people treat it as a joke, tell him he's crazy. Cover the Skeppys because it's fun for them. They say he's crazy but laugh it off and never try help.

Baghera tries after seeing how much he's hurting, but he always deflects. Foolish lets him keep his vacation treehouse in his home because he knows Bad isn't doing great. But none of it helps.

He's still expected to babysit the eggs when they've not been taken care of. Expected to happily hand out whatever people ask for. Expected to go into super dangerous dungeons and get little to no recognisation for how well he's done, Etoiles getting called the best fighter on the server and only Etoiles recognising how powerful Bad is.

So he gives up on the 'vacation' as no one is noticing. The vacation was treated as a funny joke so why continue? Then when Forever takes the credit for builds Bad has helped with a lot, it hurts Bad a lot because that's supposed to be one of his closest friends practically refusing to acknowledge his help.

One thing he's slowly starting to realise is that people only see him as 'the babysitter and rich guy' of the island. He's not Bad. He's the helpful guy. We first see him snap when the daycare him, Pomme, Dapper, Richarlyson and Senhora (?) Worked on was blown up without as much as an apology until afterwards. He snaps and goes to blow things up because he's snapped.

He doesn't take it too far, just targetting the person who deserves it. But it's a sign he's getting close to snapping.

Bad wants Forever, one of his closest friends on the island, to just say thank you for helping. He can't ask as that takes every ounce of meaning out of the words, he can subtly hint at that's what he wants, but if he outrightly says it, then it means nothing.

The thank you isn't just a "I want you to appreciate what I did for you" thing, it's a "We're friends, right? You care about what I've done to help you right? So you care about me right?" To Bad. It means much more than just thank you to him.

But he can't just ask like Pomme said. It means nothing when asked for. So he has to try get him to say it without directly saying he wants it.

Bad's getting closer to the end of his sanity and nothing is helping. Few people are trying to help because he tries to play it off as a joke, the ones who do try don't know how. He wants two small words from someone, but he's told he's wrong. That he should just talk to Forever because it's not that big of a deal.

Bad's problems are being constantly dismissed by people on the island because he treats it so much like a joke no one thinks about it being any deeper than a joke because they expect him to tell them. When that's now how he is. He's never been truly open about any emotions and he isn't going to suddenly start because people aren't noticing his subtle hints at not being okay.

[chaifootsteps]

there were a lot of bad moments but there was one line in particular that bothered me

'do you ever regret the things you do?' followed by Stolas asking if Blitzo has ever apologized before

And the answer is yes, Stolas - yes he literally has. The person he's apologized to is Stolas at the end of the Ozzie's, the one time he shouldn't have had to give an apology - because he just didn't want to sleep with Stolas that night. Did Stolas just conveniently forget about that?

(also to Loona at the end of Seeing Stars, the other time he ended up taking on too much responsibility in an argument with someone who had no intention of acting less shitty towards him)

it's just so galling to hear that from Stolas of all people, given how he's been physically incapable of apologizing to Blitzo so far and obviously wasn't even considering it at any point in this episode. Does he think his 'I'll do everything but literally say I'm sorry' speech in Full Moon means he's basically in the clear at this point?

(And Stolas has apologized to Via once and learnt precisely nothing from it, he's just as shitty as ever - but sure, criticize Blitzo for prioritizing his daughter's health over rescuing his incompetent feathered ass for a second time. Weird how the writers don't have Blitzo point out he should understand since he has Via)

It's clear he's still not understood what Blitzo meant when he said 'don't pretend there's anything between us but sex - you make that really clear all the time' - forget being slow on the uptake, is Stolas experiencing time dilation or something? is his brain running Windows 97?

if Blitzo still doesn't trust him once the deal is done, most people would realize that there's maybe a bigger problem here. or that the deal itself is a justifiable reason not to immediately trust him and be able to switch gears just like that. but Stolas is so hung up on getting his needs met he still hasn't shown any real consideration for what's going on in Blitzo's head. He gets unproductively frustrated about Blitzo "projecting" the role of a prince on him (heavy air quotes there because he really is an idiot if he thinks his title doesn't matter - they opened this episode with him lounging around his fancy fountain while Blitzo has to scale the wall just to talk to him) and never asks why Blitzo is irritated with him (of course Viv is just going to frame it like Blitzo believes Stolas could never love him to let Stolas off the hook as much as possible)

The closest he's got is remembering a couple of shots from season 1 during his song (he's finally exhibiting signs of having a functional memory! what a miracle! and it's something from season 1!) but even then he's still like 'hmm, is there something I should learn from this? was it perhaps wrong of me to ask for sex as repayment for saving his life and demean him constantly around the theme park while he was uncomfortable? :('

it's really something to see the writers pole vault right over 'Stolas is a mess but could fix his life & relationships with enough work' all the way to 'Stolas is not only pathetic but is the densest motherfucker to ever walk the 7 rings' (hey, if he thinks it's fair game to call Blitzo that...)

It's the writing equivalent of watching someone repeatedly insist that 2 + 2 = 5. Frustrating doesn't even begin to cover it.