#fall out boy consume my every waking thought

[untimelyambition]

i can’t believe fall out boy played 33 songs this show thats. an abnormal amount of songs i know they were EXHAUSTED

[clancy-the-pretty-odd-killjoy]

Guys, my MCR paper doll era is upon us. Be scared, be VERY scared.. (btw the art 4 the boys is not mine)

Moikey gets b-day hat bc it's his borthday. :3 <3

Art credit goes to: @powdertz.

[inreverievvv]

Minecraft build I did a month or so ago!

I really like this one, I need to get back into building and doing videos

[ih8petewentz]

not a day goes by where i don’t think about her (patrick stump in this particular denim jacket)

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

part two here

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[superstarcherrycolagirl]

i might as well be drunk in love

“slut!” by taylor swift

benny cross x fem!reader / 1.4k words

idea: you’re drunk, and benny takes care of you after a long night out

tw: drinking, swearing, so fluffy it’s sickening

notes: this is my first big piece that I’ve wrote and omg it took FOREVER !! i haven’t been able to stop thinking about “the bikeriders” she literally consumes my every waking thought AHH !! anyway i hope you guys enjoy reading this:))

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

it’s just about 4 in the morning and you and benny just made it back home to your place. you’d been so busy this week due to picking up more shifts at the library so you would be able to pay off the rent by the end of the month, groceries, and afford to buy a little more thread to stitch up a pair of your jeans and the large tear on bennys jacket. not only was that stressful, but throughout the week you had to deal with some grouchy elderly women, preverted college boys (‘pinkos’ as zipco would call them), and multiple groups of chaotic elementary school students who were checking out their books for the semester, and only to have a slice of toast, scorching hot coffee with no milk OR sugar, and fucking prayer holding you together. so yes, this night out was a well deserved one. but who’s kidding? you needed that shit! now here you are, barely getting up the stairs to your apartment as benny holds onto you for dear life.

as you both stood outside of your apartment door, benny began digging for his copy of keys in his pocket while leaning you up against his side and adjusting his hold on your hip. he draped his jacket over you before you hopped onto his bike to head home, leaving him in his tattered sleeveless black shirt against the cold chicago air.

“sorry baby, turns out the key were in the other po-“ “y’arms are so pretty honey.. like-i like how they feel ‘round me” you cut him off with slurred words as you drunkenly gazed up at him.

“can’t believe i get to see them all t’time, for m’self, a-and nobody else gets ta have ‘em but me.. a’like when they hold me when it’s real cold..o-or hot.. or ‘round the pillows or the flowers ya get me.. or when ya’ cuddlin’ lula.. oh i hope she’s not t’cold, v’missed her so much.. she’s probably sad that her mama and daddy were gone all night-“ at this point benny could only chuckle as his girl jumped from talking about his arms to their sweet black cat lula, it made his heart swell.

once he got you into your apartment he began walking you straight towards your bed, as your giggles and drunk thoughts echoed down the hallway “no b-benny i don’t wanna t’sleep yet, i wanna watch t’bakin’ show on channel 6, they be makin some.. some of them valen..tines treats a-and i wanna try” you began to whine as benny sat you down at the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you as he begins unbuckling the straps of your red kitten heels “yeah we can watch some baby, d’worry, jus’ wanna getcha out of these ‘nd this dress” “thought ‘ya liked me in this dress? grabbed these heels to match with em’” you said sadly, your eyes starting to droop.

benny looked up at you and could see the slight pout on your face, so he moved his left hand to caress your thigh “oh y’know i love this dress, but that tiny little nightie a’yours, that pretty pink flower in the middle that barely covers you up, takes the cake for me” he says as he moves closer to you “re-eally?” “yeah baby, she’s m’favorite” his voice gets muffled as he places some kisses on the tops of your thighs, still looking right back up at your sleepy eyes “but i love everythin’ that you wear.. especially when you wear nothing” he says with a smirk on his face, and had stopped your whining and shut you up instantly.

after getting your heels off benny helps you stand up to start taking off your clothes. the jacket was first to go, as he tossed it on top of your vanity chair. he then pushed the straps of your red gingham dress down which slowly began to fall to the floor. you were left in the dainty lingerie set you’d picked out for the night; the blush pink fabric with the lacy details matching the drunken flush on your face. benny takes his time to get a look at you, rubbing his callused hands up and down your sides. he knows that all the shifts you’ve picked up and the deadlines of payments have been making you stressed, so he just wants to take care of you tonight, although it won’t come close to repay you for all the sacrifices you make for him.

after benny unclasped your bra, he swiftly moved to your side of the bed and grabbed your linen night gown “arms up for me baby” you obliged, sleepily raising your arms above your head you momentarily close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. but you felt something else. something running along your legs. was that fuzz? you didn’t wear socks with your heels tonight and benny already tossed your dress into the laundry bin. you were stumped until you heard a rumbling sound from beneath you. purring.

“oh lula! l-look honey s’lula! she’s purring up ‘gainst me!!” you gleamed to benny, as he too was receiving affection from lula. “she’s happy that her mama and daddy are back home, right honey? home?” benny ever so slightly teased, but out of love of his girls’ adorable rambles. “yeah. home” you said with a smile. now after changing benny walks you over to your side of the bed. he sat you down facing him, but paused briefly as he realized he forgot to take some of your jewelry off.

“one second mama, forgot to get this necklace and these hoops off, i know you sleepy but i’ll be quick” he said, quickly and gently taking them off “i told ya’ i ain’t sleepy.. gotta.. we gotta still watch our show ‘member?” “y’right baby, our show” a chuckle left his mouth; of course he remembered, but he wanted you to take the credit for remembering about it as you were fighting to stay awake. “what would i do without you baby? hmm?” “d’know ben-baby, but don’t worry, y.. ya’ have me” “and you have me baby. m’sweet baby” benny’s words became muffled as he held your jaw and kissed you deeply before placing your jewlery down on the nightstand. you were finally lying down after benny got you comfortable. he then quickly stripped down to his boxers and swapped his black shirt for a white wifebeater before joining you in bed.

just by looking at you he could tell that you were barely awake, but sticking to his word, he turned the tv onto channel 6, as clips of a dessert with chocolate and some kind of fruit in it come across the screen. strawberries? or raspberries? hell, cherries? he could not tell.

as the sounds of the baking show filled the room benny shifted you closer to him, so you could rest on his chest. “did you have a good time tonight baby? i know you’ve been excited about this meeting all week” he asked you softly. you let yourself finally close your eyes, knowing that it was okay to rest now “s’so fun.. ears are ringin’ a lil.. but had so fun with t’girls, and t’club,” benny notices that your sentences are making less sense as you are just moments away from knocking out, but he was able to make out one coherent sentence of yours before that “but i had t’most fun with ya’ tonight.. ya’ lit up m’whole night honey” seconds away from slipping into your own dream land, he had to admit, you saying that so effortlessly made his breath hitch in his throat. he didn’t have a care for anything outside the club until he met you, and you have completely flipped his life upside down because of it. it gave him meaning to ride home late at night knowing he was coming back home to you. it gave him purpose to always come back to you, regardless of what’s going on through his mind. you are there for him, you are there to care for him, laugh with him, cry with him, and to just love him for the person he is. you are there for him. you are it for him “and you light up my life baby, my light”

he reaches his hand over to turn off the little lamp on his side of the bed and when he turned his head back to look at you, you were fast asleep; soft snores leaving your mouth. he could only smile, knowing that you can get the deserved rest you’ve needed “love you so much sweet girl, with my whole heart” he kisses the top of your head as lula leaps onto the bed to join her mama and daddy for cuddles.

peace and quiet at last.

[cheeseceli]

What love feels like

Pairing: ot7!BTS × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Summary: where they find out what love should be like after they meet you

Warnings: none I can think of

A/n: I think this is on my drafts since like last year😭 I hope you like it <3 | daily click

For Jin, love should feel like home.

He wants a shoulder to cry on when things get overwhelming, he wants a hug that is able to give him comfort and he wants someone who'd always welcome him after a long day. He feels as if he got it all when he met you. After noticing that when he thought of home you'd be all that occupied his mind, instead of those four walls he used to think of, he knows he's in love.

For Suga, love should feel like a safe place.

It's like you're a place free of worries that he can always go to. Whenever he feels like the world is collapsing and he is hopeless, you show up like the light at the end of the tunnel and get him out of his consuming thoughts. When with you, he feels safe. And for that, he knows he loves you.

For J-hope, love should feel like pride.

He wants everyone to know that he loves you and he can't wait to tell it to the world. He's often writing songs about you, telling things about you to his family and members, he loves to hold your hand in public (and in private) and the list goes on and on. He loves you. He is yours. And he's proud of it.

For Namjoon, love should feel like peace.

In a world where he's in constant exposure, where everything happens all the time and he finds himself having trouble to breathe at times, all he wants is peace. And he finds out that you are able to give him just that. With you, the clock stops ticking and a weight gets off his shoulders. He feels lighter and it's all thanks to you.

For Jimin, love should feel easy.

He didn't want to try to fall for someone, worrying about every move all the time. It felt exhausting. So when he found himself falling for you with no effort, he knew it was love, simply because it was natural to him, like he was born to do this. Born to love you.

For Taehyung, love should feel like freedom.

Freedom to be himself, freedom to discover the world, freedom to live. He thought love was somewhat like wings, and you're the one who gave it to him. It's crazy how much he discovered about himself lately just because he was free enough to do so. Loving you made him love himself more, and for that he loves you.

For Jungkook, love should feel like excitement.

He wakes up with a smile every since he met you. He can't wait to take you on dates and he is well aware that his heart beats faster whenever he sees you. Even after years of dating, his excitement would never disappear. You bring light to his life and make him feel like a boy who's always smiling to the mere thought of you.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: sides they only show around you

Thank you for reading 💜

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @lelewright1234

Images by @swiftwice | Dividers by @k1ssyoursister

[riordanness]

nightmare dressed like a daydream — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: nightmares and reader has ptsd

requested: no (but feel free to <3)

As usual, the nightmares hit as soon as I close my eyes.

Memories of the life I used to live, the people who used to control my every waking minute. The ache of my bones, the pounding of my head, the intense loneliness that would try to consume me.

Will had been the light shining through the darkness of my life, but in my dreams, he never came back for me.

I was left stranded in Mrs Scrubbit’s chicken coop, or left to scrub and scrub the dirt from a pile of clothes that never ended.

I would often wake in a cold sweat, or screaming, or crying, or sometimes all of them at once. My hands would be clenched so tightly around the sheets that my knuckles would be white. My breathing would be heavy, and I’d be near impossible to calm down.

Except for when Willy Wonka was there. Because that boy was a miracle.

Just his touch, and a few gentle words would slow my heart rate. My breathing would calm, and I would focus on reality again.

Reality was being safe. It was being with Willy, helping him make his astounding chocolates. Reality was being happy every day. Being free everyday. Reality was falling in love with Willy Wonka.

Tonight, my dreams were much the same. I was small, and alone, and the darkness and freezing cold of the chicken coop were smothering me. The awful smell filled my nose, I was chilled to the bone, and I had almost given up.

But just at the moment when Willy was supposed to show up and rescue me, whisk me away to safety and to freedom, he didn’t come. He didn’t show up at all.

He left me there to be trapped forever.

I wake with a start, a strangled cry choking out of me. Tears are still fresh on my cheeks, and my chest heaves with sobs.

Barely a moment passes before my bedroom door opens. Willy rushes through, and drops to his knees on the floor beside my bed.

“Hey, hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He reaches for me, pulling me close to his chest. I cry into his shirt, fists clutching at the material.

“You… I was… alone,” I cry, utterly distraught. You’d think, after having the same nightmare every night for weeks now, that I’d be a little less sensitive to it, but it was so painful every time. Painful in a way I just couldn’t describe properly.

The thought of not having Willy in my life, this boy who now meant the entire world to me, this boy who had rescued me from my terrible life and set me free, that realisation of him leaving me there hurt like nothing else.

Waking up to realise it was just a dream, and that Willy would never do that, was so relieving I just cried even more.

But here, wrapped in his arms, I knew I was safe. I knew I didn’t need to worry about being alone anymore. Because I wasn’t. I had Willy Wonka by my side, and I probably always will.

“I would never leave you,” Willy whispers into my hair, as his fingers play with a strand of it.

I wonder if maybe he can read my thoughts. He always seems to know the exact right thing to say to make me feel better, to ease my worries and anxieties and to calm me right down.

“You never need to worry about being alone again.”

His words are like a sip of hot chocolate, warm and comforting, spreading that happy feeling all over me.

“Hey,” Willy says in a hushed voice. “Can you let me go for a second, sweetheart?”

I realise how tightly I’m clutching onto him, and I quickly let him go. “Sorry,” I say, brushing my tears away with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry.”

Willy shakes his head. “No you don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault you had to experience all of that. It’s perfectly natural to have nightmares about it.”

He gets to his feet. “I’m going to just grab my suitcase, and I’m going to make you something.”

I ease myself back onto my pillows, trying to hold onto the feeling of relaxation I feel while in Willy’s arms a little longer. “Okay.”

He disappears, and quickly returns with his case, which he sets on my desk. He sits down, rummages for a while, and soon enough, comes back over to me with two items. A mug, and a small piece of chocolate.

Willy sits gingerly on the edge of my bed. “Hot chocolate,” he says, handing me the mug, “for obvious reasons.”

“Hot chocolate is the world's best beverage invention,” I quote him, a small smile playing around my mouth.

Willy nods, and grins, and holds out his palm. On it lies a little circular chocolate, silvery blue in colour. Right in the middle is a little symbol of a… snake? No, two snakes, intertwined around a little stick.

A caduceus, I think. The ancient Greek symbol of medicine.

I pick up the chocolate, holding it carefully between my fingers. “What is it?”

Willy shrugs. “Try it and see.”

I pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly. Instantly, I feel a strange but delicious feeling crawling all over me,

I swallow, and the warm feeling only spreads further. Everything inside of me seems to relax, like melted chocolate and a smile has been injected into all my muscles and nerves.

“What is this?” I ask, looking up at him. For the first time since he came in, I really notice how tired he looks. His eyes are slightly glazed-over, his curls are unkempt and messily splayed across his forehead. His shirt is rumpled, but his smile is still as bright as it always is.

“It’s… uh, just something I made for you.” He looks away as he answers.

I laugh lightly. “Well, of course. But what is it?”

My best friend glances back at me. “Love,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s love.”

I have no idea why or how, but just his words fill me with more warmth and joy than any amount of chocolate ever could.

“I love you,” Willy says.

“I love you too,” I admit slowly, my eyes suddenly too shy to look at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He smiles, and I’m sure it’s brighter than the sun itself. “I’m glad.” He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine, and I swear, sugary sweets couldn’t compare at all.

[peachdues]

Phantasmagoria (Part I)

Tell Me to Stop (Sanemi’s Version)

Sanemi x F!Reader, Modern AU

A/N: it's time. This one is very personal to me, and I've drawn a lot upon my own life/experiences to write this. I hope it lives up to expectations, but in case it doesn't, remember there is still a part two and a part three (so more smut/angst/feelings).

Massive TW: grief, loss of parent to cancer, canon character death (in non-canon way), drug and alcohol abuse, anger, unhealthy coping mechanisms galore.

CW: 10.5k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), mildly dubious consent (Reader doesn't tell Sanemi it's her first time, and there's a question whether he would've done it); both Sanemi and Reader are under the influence. Creampie, lots of cursing, angst.

For the playlist, listen here.

Without further ado!

Speak in tongues / I don't even recognize your face / mirror on the wall / tell me all the ways to stay away

phan·tas·ma·go·ri·a – an exhibition of optical effects and illusions; a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined.

Once upon a time, as a little girl, she’d believed love was pretty; she imagined it would be soft, pink, and shiny and make her feel warm and pretty in return.

As an adult, she’d come to realize that love wasn’t pretty at all; it was cold, lonely, and painful.

Love was dull and harsh and all-consuming.

Love was black.

For Y/N, loving Sanemi Shinazugawa was like falling into one of the black holes she’d learned about in science class as a child. It was infinite and empty and there was no space for anything but the all-consuming void that promised to rip her apart and condemn her to oblivion.

This love had taken her naïve, romantic heart to chew up and spit back out, leaving her only with a misshapen lump held together by the leftover sinew of her hopes and dreams.

Y/N believed her love for Sanemi would be the death of her. It was a poison that had seeped into her veins and was slowly rotting her from the inside out. She knew it was stupid to love someone who would not and could not love her back, but she hadn’t yet figured out a way to stop.

And since she could not stop loving him, she could only resign herself to its toxicity until it killed her for good.

—————————————————————————

Summer had ended, and Y/N was dreading having to return to Ubayashiki University. Dreading it because she’d spent the entirety of the summer back in her – their – hometown, caring for her ailing mother, and that isolation had meant she didn’t have to wake up every day with a pit in her stomach at the thought of running into him. But then her mother had finally succumbed to her illness a week prior, and Y/N was now forced to carry on in the world as though hers had not just been blown apart.

Looking back, Genya’s death had marked the end for a lot of things, including the once-irreverent trio that had been Y/N, Kyojuro, and Sanemi.

They had been friends – the best of friends, really, since pre-school, in large part because of their parents. Kyojuro, as warm and as vibrant as the sun, had been their grounding force, always wise beyond his years but quick to laugh. Then there was Sanemi, and though he could be prone to his episodes of anger, he was a staunch, loyal defender of his friends and would do anything if it meant making them smile. Last, there had been Y/N, and she’d been so happy to just love her boys and be loved by them. She’d always felt invincible with them by her side, ready to take on the world, together.

And for a while, they did.

Their friendship withstood even the toughest of trials. It lasted through the death of Kyojuro’s mother and the subsequent decline of his father, so unable to cope that he could not function without the bitter sting of alcohol to soothe the pain of Rukka’s absence. Their friendship had even endured the deaths of both Sanemi’s and Genya’s parents at the hands of a drunk driver, the shrapnel from the crash permanently scarring both of the boys’ faces, though Sanemi had born the worst of it.

But because they’d had one another, they’d made it through. Y/N’s own mother, though a single parent, took in both Shinazugawa boys until the state placed them in a home, though that rarely stopped Sanemi from frequenting Y/N’s house after school. Even Kyojuro grew to be a constant fixture around her house, drawn to the warmth and love her mother showed both boys as if they were her own.

And then they all grew up, and they were set to begin their first year of university at Ubaya-U come the fall. The three of them had been eager to set out into the world, to grab at any and all opportunities that arose, and for each of them to become great in their own right.

But not two weeks into the fall semester, Sanemi received the phone call that had brought his world crashing down around him. Genya, his beloved, cherished younger brother, had been shot dead outside of their foster home, killed by some kid in retaliation for some fight Genya hadn’t picked.

Y/N hadn’t been with him when he received the news, instead only getting a text from Kyojuro to getthefuckoverhereNOW. She’d bolted from her class and ran to the boys’ dorm across campus. She’d found Sanemi, curled into a ball on the floor beneath a hole he’d punched into the drywall, sobbing, and she hadn’t known what else to do but hold him along with Kyojuro while her own tears threatened to blind her.

Hours later, when Sanemi realized he would have to return to their hometown to make final arrangements, he’d asked Y/N to accompany him to the train station. Kyojuro would have gone as well, but he’d been unable to call off from work, and so the three had planned for Y/N to return with him the next day, as she was the only one between the three of them with a car on campus.

Of course, Y/N agreed to drive Sanemi to the train station, because she couldn’t possibly imagine leaving him alone. He’d looked so lost, so broken, and she would’ve done anything, anything at all, to lessen the weight on his shoulders.

Because she loved him, and she’d loved him for years, and love meant giving everything you had, everything you were to the other, especially in times of need. So she agreed, and though he’d been unable to speak, Sanemi had rested his head on her shoulder in silent gratitude.

She’d not known that, in her efforts to love and support him at his lowest, she would doom their group’s entire dynamic.

In retrospect, she shouldn’t have said anything. It was the wrong time, the wrong way to tell him what was in her heart, and she’d known that; but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She’d been unable to stop the way her heart clenched as she walked him towards the platform at Amane Station, his head hung low and his eyes rimmed red from hours of crying. It hurt her to see him in such pain, hurt so badly that she’d been desperate to alleviate it in any way she could. She’d thought it would have been enough to hug him, to give him a reassuring squeeze and a promise that she and Kyo would be back home the following morning and that he wouldn’t be alone.

But then, before she could stop them, those cursed words had fallen from her lips and ruined her, ruined everything.

I love you, Sanemi. With all my heart.

As soon as she’d heard herself say it, she’d known she’d fucked up. She knew, as Sanemi stiffened in her embrace and pulled away from her, that she’d indelibly altered things between them, and that she could never take those words back. And she’d known, the moment she saw the cold, bewildered look in his eyes, so angry it made her stomach drop, that he neither returned nor wanted her love.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” He snapped, stepping back from her, creating a chasm between them that could not be bridged.

His train had finally arrived, and he’d stormed away from her, turned his back to her, and refused to look back as he boarded the car. She’d stayed behind, standing there amidst a throng of travelers and their families, for a long while, tears slipping hot and fast down her cheeks until the salt burned permanent tracks into her skin.

It hadn’t mattered that Kyojuro had called her later, Sanemi having filled him in on what happened, what she’d done, to tell her not to worry; that Sanemi had just been frustrated and overwhelmed, and that all would be well between them after the funeral.

Kyojuro lied. Sanemi hadn’t so much as looked her way the entire time she and Kyo were with him during his brother’s funeral and had refused to even acknowledge her small greeting. Y/N understood he was going through the worst pain imaginable, and she’d known he was angry because she’d dumped her feelings on him when he’d been in no place to receive them, but his rejection still fucking hurt.

Worse than his rejection had been his total ignorance of her, his obstinate refusal to so much as acknowledge her existence. Y/N hadn’t been able to understand how he could be so angry with her to not even treat her like a person, to pretend as though they hadn’t been friends – best friends – since they were in diapers.

Y/N had wanted to give him space, however, and wanted herself to stop loving him so things could one day go back to how they’d been, so she started to distance herself from Sanemi, believing she would still have Kyojuro, her sun, to lean on if she needed it.

But she’d been wrong, so very wrong. Because Kyojuro had defended Sanemi with a not-so-gentle reminder that ‘he’s dealing with a lot right now,’ which only fractured her heart even more because Kyojuro had taken a side and it hadn’t been hers.

Thus, Y/N was left to love them both at a distance, and she was forced to watch them carry on their friendship without her, even though they’d all come to Ubaya-U together and even though her exile from the group meant that Y/N had no friends at all.

So, her first semester at university, the semester she’d dreamed would be life-changing and exciting, became a cacophony of sobs smothered into her pillow at night so her roommate wouldn’t hear her winking out like a dying star. And she had no friends, because her best friend didn’t think she was his, and she couldn’t stop loving a boy who didn’t want to love her back.

—————————————————————————

Her mom got sick in the spring of her first year. Initially, it had been a good prognosis. Y/N somehow managed to balance her busy, pre-law class load with her mother’s care, fluidly alternating between office hours and hospital appointments. But no friends meant she’d had no one to talk to, no one to lean on in those moments when her legs gave out and sobs wracked her body because she’d been so fucking scared of losing her mom. But she’d been kept busy enough to be able to squash that loneliness down and ignore it like her boys had ignored her, and so, she’d pushed through.

By the time summer had come, however, things had grown exponentially worse. Several nights ended in Y/N having to call an ambulance to rush to her home, because her mom had fallen and Y/N wasn’t strong enough to lift her by herself, and there hadn’t been anyone else she could call.

There had been a few times – maybe two or three – when she’d passed Kyojuro on the street, home briefly to check on his little brother, and the fiery blonde would make a face like he wanted to say something like he wanted to talk to her or care about her, but Y/N would turn and run before he had the chance.

She never saw Sanemi, though that hadn’t surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be able to stomach being back home so soon after Genya.

Her mother’s condition yo-yoed throughout the summer and into the early fall of her second year of university. Just when it finally seemed as though things were looking up for her mother, when she was just days from her last treatment, she died.

No one had been there to hold her – to comfort her – when Y/N began wailing as her mother’s chest rose for the last time and did not go back down.

Her mother had died, and Y/N had been left utterly and completely alone.

Her mother’s funeral had taken place on a sunny October day, the autumn air cool and crisp as an apple. She’d stood beside her mother’s casket as stranger after stranger passed, offering their condolences and personal anecdotes of her mother’s kindness.

Not once had she seen a familiar face. Not once had either of her boys made an appearance, not even for the woman who had loved them as her own.

She’d returned to campus a few days later, and because the universe had decided she’d not suffered nearly enough for some unknown crime, she ran into him. By the cruelest twist of fate, Sanemi decided to cross the street opposite her at the same time, and what was left of her heart skipped several beats.

For all her efforts to put distance between them, she still loved him, and it was a realization so bitter she thought she would start dry heaving right there on the pavement. She tried to duck her head, to avoid catching his attention, but the crosswalk light changed, and he was suddenly walking towards her, and she couldn’t help but chance a glance up.

Lilac eyes collided with her own, and Y/N thought the world was about to open beneath her and swallow her whole.

His gaze lingered for a touch longer than normal for a stranger, and Y/N feared he’d be able to see the scars from her tears on her face or see how her heart still bore the tattoo of his name. But then he blinked, and she took the chance to vanish among the throng of students, dashing back to her dorm before the tears could spill down her cheeks once more.

She barely made it to her room before her legs gave out from under her, her sobs choking from her throat.

She wished her mother had taken her with her.

—————————————————————————

It was fitting that Y/N met the personification of spring at the start of the spring semester.

Her name was Mitsuri, and Y/N sat next to her in her 8:00 AM class. The girl was so bubbly and bright that it was difficult, even for the drab Y/N to resist striking up a conversation with her. Mitsuri was a streak of color that bloomed across Y/N’s eternal gray sky, with her exotic pink and green hair and permanent blush. It took only a few weeks, but Mitsuri and Y/N became the best of friends, and Y/N could not get over how good it felt to have one of those again.

Mitsuri and Y/N began to do everything together, and bit by bit, Y/N felt herself smiling more, laughing as her friend flirted with every him, her, and them who crossed their path. They figured out they shared nearly every class together, and when they weren’t furiously taking notes during their lectures, they were studying together in small corners around campus, dreaming of what was to come after exams and graduation in a year and a half.

Her pink-haired friend helped Y/N feel confident again, like a person. Mitsuri helped bring Y/N back out of the shell she’d so carefully crafted in the wake of her abandonment, and she began to feel a little lighter, a little more buoyant thanks to the happy, beautiful girl at her side.

That wasn’t to say Mitsuri didn’t have her own demons – she very much did. At night, Mitsuri and Y/N push their beds together in the latter’s dorm (Y/N’s first roommate had long since moved out). There, huddled together under the mess of blankets and pillows, they would whisper the names of their heartache with one another – Sanemi and Obanai – and they comforted each other, wiping their tears away with soft promises that as long as they had one another, they would be okay.

By March, Mitsuri convinced Y/N to go clubbing with her. Y/N was hesitant until she looked in the mirror after her friend had spent the evening primping her and turning her into a woman Y/N scarcely recognized in the mirror. Her friend had dressed her in a short, emerald green dress that hugged every curve just right, a teasing slit going high up on her left thigh. Y/N’s hair had been slicked back into a high ponytail that swung tantalizingly between her shoulder blades. Her cleavage was a bit more exposed in the pinkette’s dress than Y/N was accustomed to, but damn if she didn’t look downright sumptuous.

Y/N was determined to let loose, to not think about the black stain on her heart that was him, and so she greedily accepted Mitsuri’s hand as the two braved the chilly, early spring air. Mitsuri pulled her through the doors of the club -- the Kizuki Moon Lounge -- and for the first time in a year and a half, she felt alive.

Beneath the strobe of multi-colored lights, amidst the pulsing bass of the techno-music threatening to rupture her eardrums, Y/N had found herself anew; no longer was she the sad, morose girl who barely existed. Under Mitsuri’s care, Y/N transformed into a raving princess, who owned the sticky floor of the Kizuki’s club each time she and her friend traipsed onto it in their too-high heels, wearing too-short dresses and clutching too-strong drinks in their greedy hands.

In April, Mitsuri introduced her to Shinobu, a wisp of a pharmacology student who was every bit as beautiful as she was terrifying, though Y/N could not exactly place why the petite girl could scare off any ill-intentioned man that tried to swagger over to them, given her ever-present, sugary-sweet smile.

She also met three girls – Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma – who were beautiful and fun-loving and rounded out the newly-formed friend group with their fire-and-ice personalities.

First, there was Hinatsuru – quieter, but still capable of throwing it back and having a grand old time, especially once her drink of choice (rum and Coke) had the opportunity to work its way through her blood. A pretty blush was always the telltale sign that Hina was ready to jump up on a table and captivate anyone who had the pleasure of watching her dance.

Next, there was Makio, brash and bold, but fiercely loyal. Some asshole had made the mistake of snapping the thong-like top of Mitsuri’s skirt once and found his head shoved down on the table, his arm pulled back in a self-defense maneuver as the dark-haired beauty threatened to wrench the man’s offending arm from its socket.

Finally, there was Suma, who often clung to the other two like a lost child, but once she gained her confidence, would flirt with absolutely anything and everything that moved, with a sultry giggle and a bat of her pretty eyes. Within only twenty minutes of knowing her, Suma had convinced Y/N to make out with her, the beautiful girl tasting like cotton candy and summertime as their tongues lazily danced together beneath the throb of the club lights.

With her new group of girlfriends, Y/N began to lose herself to the alluring beck and call of Ubayashiki’s local rave scene, her nights quickly becoming defined by sticky drinks and jeweled makeup, and the skimpy outfits Mitsuri always shoved her into. But she could not find it in her heart to care, because for once, her mind was on something else that didn’t involve the smell of pine, or lavender eyes, or the feeling of a home that no longer existed.

But even though the sour drinks made her feel so warm and vibrant while she danced, there were still moments when clarity hit and she missed them.

She missed the way Kyojuro’s strong arm would drape around her shoulders, heavy and warm, and how his embrace always felt like home, his deep laugh infectious.

She missed the way Sanemi would pretend to hug her unwillingly but would leave his hands lingering on her back or her waist once she moved to pull away, a small smirk tugging on the corners of his tantalizing mouth. She missed the smell of his cologne, woodsy and clean, as he would lean in close to her face to tease her until she blushed.

She missed them so much that the sharp sting of alcohol eventually stopped dulling the pulsing ache in the cavity where her heart once beat. No matter how many shots, no matter how many sticky acid drinks she tossed back, that gnawing in her chest would not cease.

Then, one night, Shinobu pressed a small, lilac pill into her hand, and everything changed.

Initially, Y/N was apprehensive, because the pill perfectly matched the hue of the eyes of the person she wanted to forget most. But Shinobu promised her that this pill she’d created in a lab for school – Wisteria – will have her feeling like a kid on Christmas, and that promise, coupled with a flutter of Shinobu’s pretty eyelashes made Y/N cave.

At first, she felt nothing, no impact beyond the slight buzz provided by the round of shots she’d done upon first arriving at the Kizuki. But then, as Mitsuri twirled her beneath the flashing lights of pink and yellow, Y/N’s world exploded with a vibrance she’d neither seen nor felt in nearly two years. Everything, all at once, became magical; effervescent; infinite.

The Wisteria seeped into her veins and made her feel like Christmas lights had been implanted under her skin. Y/N felt shiny and beautiful and sparkly under the combined effect of Shinobu’s magical concoction and the balancing burn of her tequila, and with her new group of girlfriends flanking her side as they bumped to and ground against one another to the beat of the music, Y/N felt almost like she did when it was just her and her boys. Only now, Y/N felt even better, because, with her girls, she could ignore the way the black in her heart was slowly beginning to fester, even if that meant Y/N was beginning to feel more and more numb with each passing rendezvous at the club.

Because that numbness meant that at least she couldn’t feel the acrid bite of her unrequited love for him, and that was what she wanted all along, right?

—————————————————————————

(May)

Of course, Y/N should’ve known she couldn’t stay light and resplendent and numb in her neon and black light paradise forever. Because unfortunately, despite the large student body at Ubaya-U, her new friend group just has to intermingle with them.

Really, it was all Shinobu’s fault. Towards the end of the semester, Shinobu began dating a quiet, withdrawn boy named Giyuu, who happened to be good friends with the man that Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma all have a thing for – Tengen.

Tengen was a recent graduate of Ubaya-U, and an even more recent hire at the local police department, his imposing size and discerning ears a coveted asset amongst the group of detectives who’d scouted him out. Having someone affiliated with the local police be part of their group ended up being a huge advantage to them, however, given the general inclination for people to look the other way whenever Shinobu began dealing her Wisteria in the secluded corners of the Kizuki’s lounge.

What was not an advantage, however, were Tengen’s friends, because Tengen, apparently, had become best fucking friends with Kyojuro, and by default, him.

Y/N stood awkwardly between Mitsuri and Shinobu as the latter presented her group of girlfriends to the new, rag-tag medley of boys that now included the very two Y/N had gone to great lengths to avoid. She tried to ignore the burning weight of both boys’ stares as Y/N finally introduced herself to Shinobu’s new boy toy. Only when she could not possibly avoid them any longer, not without raising questions, did Y/N finally allow herself to turn to them.

“Y/N!” Kyojuro looked so surprised to see her and yet, so overjoyed that it didn’t feel fair.

Y/N could tell by the jerky way the blonde’s arms twitched towards her that he’d been about to envelop her in one of his signature bear hugs, but he’d hesitated, apparently uncertain whether he was still permitted to do so.

Ultimately, Kyojuro’s elation at seeing her once again won over his doubt, and he pulled her in tightly against his chest, his arms squeezing her with a security she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. For the briefest moment, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she allowed herself to thaw, ever so slightly, in the fierce warmth of her friend’s embrace.

It was a mistake; the moment she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d felt the damning prickle of tears behind her eyelids, and an uncomfortable lump had begun to take form in her throat. So with more reluctance than Y/N wanted to acknowledge she felt, she stepped away from Kyojuro, hoping that the dim lights of the club concealed the mist clouding her eyes.

Unfortunately, the end of Y/N’s reunion with her former, fiery friend meant there were no more obstacles, no more distractions, between her and the white-haired, scar-speckled man who gazed at her with an intensity that, to her annoyance, still made her want to squirm.

And as his eyes bore into her, she chanted over and over in her mind for him not to say it, to not let her name fall from his lips, because she could not bear to hear it. It would’ve been easier, so much easier, if he simply pretended like she didn’t exist, because then she could go on pretending like she wasn’t walking around without a heart; like he hadn’t been carrying it with him even all these months later.

His eyes did not match the smirk he had as he said her name, but it still took everything Y/N had not to fold right there.

But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let him know that he still held any power over her, and so she merely raised an eyebrow at him and smirked back, challenging him.

“Sanemi.”

—————————————————————————

“’Sanemi’ is your name when I’m mad at you,” Y/N warned him, tapping his knuckles with the spoon she used to stir the cake batter. “Otherwise, you’re just ‘Nemi.’”

Sanemi smirked at her, sticking his finger back into the bowl to swipe another glob of cake batter as Y/N mixed Kyojuro’s birthday cake together. “And what about when I’m being annoying?”

Y/N flicked a bit of batter at him, nailing him perfectly on his nose with the chocolate mixture. “Asshole seems the most appropriate.” She squatted down to pull a baking pan out from below her mother’s stove. “Did you remember to get the candles?”

The grocery bag crinkled as her white-haired best friend shook it, the box of candles within jostling. “Sixty-one candles for the sixty-one-year-old man,” Sanemi said proudly.

“Haha,” Y/N mocked, though she swiped the bag from his hand to check to ensure he’d actually bought sixteen and not, as he claimed, sixty-one candles. “I’m impressed. It seems you are capable of following directions.”

Sanemi leaned across the counter and peered up into her face, that damn smirk of his widening as he saw the faint blush creep across her cheeks. “I always follow your directions, Y/N.” He said lowly, raising a finger to wipe a speck of cake batter from her cheek.

“Hardly,” Y/N scoffed, using the need to get Kyojuro’s cake in the oven as an excuse to turn away from him and hide her warming face. “I think you prefer malicious compliance.”

“You wound me!” Sanemi protested, splaying across her mother’s counter in mock-injury. “When have I ever not followed your instructions with a smile on my face?”

Y/N turned back to him with a teasing grin. “’Nemi, since when do you ever smile?”

—————————————————————————

Shinobu’s eyes flickered back and forth between them, a smile forming on her face even as Mitsuri tugged pleadingly at her hand. “Do you two know each other?”

Sanemi said “yes” at the same time Y/N said “no,” and the former’s head snapped to Y/N’s face, who fought to keep her features neutral and cool. “Not anymore, anyways.” She clarified though she refused to acknowledge the way Sanemi flinched in response.

Shinobu looked between them again, her smile fading to something more pensive. Kyojuro only continued to watch Y/N, his expression sad and so very out of place in this castle of infinite pleasure and fun, and Y/N found herself desperate to escape it – to escape them.

Suma, the gods’ gift to the universe, interrupted the tense moment with her arrival, and she produced a small baggie of those lilac pills that promised Y/N’s escape. Y/N could feel both Kyojuro and Sanemi gawking at her as Suma pulled her in close, the little lilac pill already dissolving on her tongue, and kissed her, as they’d done so many times before.

When the raven-haired girl pulled away with a giggle on her lips, Y/N looked back to her former friends and held her tongue out, Suma’s pill now almost completely dissolved in her mouth, and she winked at them. Let them realize that their Y/N was long-gone, buried alongside the mother whose death they refused to acknowledge.

Suma offered the newcomers a pill each, and Y/N was surprised that both accepted. Kyojuro hesitated more than the ivory-haired man next to him, who held Y/N’s eyes as he placed the little tablet on his own wicked tongue, an answer to her earlier challenge. Y/N grimaced at the idea that Sanemi was willing to play along in this little game, willing to impose upon her paradise if it meant torturing her a little more.

So Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulders and turned her back to him, letting Suma and then Makio, tug her back into the crush of people on the dance floor to twirl and grind to the music, as both boys stared after her and she let herself be lost to them once more.

—————————————————————————

He found her the following Friday, as she waited against the bar for her drink.

“And where have you been hidin’ all this time?” Y/N fought the shiver that threatened to lick up her spine at the sound of that cursed, gravelly voice that had always made her weak at the knees.

But Y/N hadn’t spent the last twenty months learning how to keep off of Sanemi Shinazugawa’s radar for nothing, hadn’t learned to keep her grief and rage and pain locked deep inside the empty cavern of her chest, just to crumble under the intensity of that lilac stare.

Y/N threw her head back to swallow the shot of tequila the bartender had placed in front of her before turning to face him. Sanemi looked every bit the simpering, cocky asshole she’d always known him to be, leaning up against the sticky wood of the bar, one fist resting idly under his cheek as he watched her.

She met his gaze evenly, shoulders loose with a relaxedness that she didn’t feel. “I’ve been right here,” she replied smoothly.

Sanemi shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at her. “Nah, you haven’t,” he downed his own shot of vodka before returning his eyes to her, looking her over in consideration. “Though, I guess it would’ve been hard to know it was you anyways.”

Y/N bristled at the comment but kept her voice light. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Sanemi watched her carefully for a moment, though his eyebrows furrowed, as though he was struggling to choose his words. “I just wouldn’t have expected to see you in a place like this.” He decided, after a moment, a frown tugging at the corners of his sinful mouth.

It was Y/N’s turn to smirk. “That would assume you knew me at all to begin with,” she challenged, motioning to the bartender for another shot.

Something tightened in Sanemi’s eyes as he held her gaze, and it clenched the knot of unease that had balled in her stomach. “I did, once.”

Y/N kept her face impassive. “Maybe, as a girl.” She accepted her second shot from the bartender and brought it to her lips, biting down on a wince as the sharp burn of the cheap liquid slid down her throat. “But not as a woman.”

Though she did not show it, his words struck a wound deep within her that she’d not realized still festered; because, as hard as she tried to pretend that the man beside her was a mere stranger, his words reminded her of the harsh truth.

She was still in love with him; had been, ever since she’d learned what love meant.

A shadow flashed across his face before disappearing, that insufferable smirk sliding onto his face once more. “I guess you’re right; a girl doesn’t wear a dress like that.” Sanemi purred.

Y/N fluttered her eyelashes at him, a foreign boldness taking over her mind even as the echo of her heart begged her to flee. “Do you like what you see, Sanemi?”

Her former friend’s answering grin was wolfish. “I’ve always liked what I’ve seen of you, Y/N,” he grabbed her last shot from her hand, ignoring the protest in her eyes as he tipped the tequila back easily down his throat. “You just always seem to disappear before I have a chance to properly appreciate you.”

Y/N knew she should run away from him, and fast, but her hand betrayed her as it reached up to brush a bit of confetti from his hair that lingered from earlier. She nearly hummed in satisfaction at the way Sanemi’s breath hitched in his throat as she drew close, her fingers just barely grazing the skin of his forehead.

“Guess you’ll have to catch me.” Was her only response, before Y/N departed for the dance floor and her friends once more.

Sanemi’s eyes remained locked on her the entire night.

————————————————————————

The days blurred into weeks, as Y/N and Sanemi’s new relationship took form.

The convergence of their friend groups was inevitable, though Y/N resented it; but now, they all went out as a unit, rather than as two separate groups which just so happened to run into one another, and it annoyed Y/N to no end.

More annoying was the fact that Sanemi seemed as willing to partake in the sacred ritual of taking Shinobu’s precious Wisteria with them, though he seemed to do it less out of a desire to feel like the flashing strobe lights of the club and more so because he wanted to get on Y/N’s nerves.

“Drugs are bad for your health, y’know,” that damnable gravelly voice snapped her attention away from the Wisteria that sat in Shinobu’s palm.

Sanemi’s shoulder bumped into hers as he came to stand beside her in a darkened corner of the Kizuki’s seating lounge, out of sight from prying eyes as Shinobu dispersed her latest batch of tiny purple pills, a smirk on his lips and a challenge in his eyes.

Y/N scoffed, reaching to take the small offering from her friend’s hand. “And so is that vodka you keep slugging back.” Y/N’s fingers were about to close around the Wisteria when Sanemi plucked it from the dark-haired girl’s hand, a cry of indignation squeaking past Y/N’s lips.

Sanemi held the pill teasingly in front of her mouth as Y/N glowered up at him. “Open up,” he ordered, pinching her key to paradise between his thumb and index finger.

Eyes locked with his, Y/N slowly let her lips part and held out her tongue. Sanemi leaned forward, taking her jaw in his free hand as he placed the small tablet on her tongue with the other.

 “Good girl,” he murmured, eyes lowering to her mouth as he watched her, hungrily.

As she accepted the Wisteria from him, Y/N let her tongue flick out and graze against his skin, dragging it lightly up the calloused edge of his index finger before she closed her mouth, letting the tablet dissolve on her tongue. Sanemi exhaled harshly through his nose, his hand gripping her chin possessively as he stared down at her mouth, and Y/N thought for a moment that he was about to give in right there and kiss her.

At the last moment, Kyojuro clapped him on the shoulder as he returned from the bar, and the spell was broken. Y/N blushed slightly as she turned back to Shinobu who made no secret of her raised eyebrow at the exchange between the two former friends.

Later, as she broke away from her friends dancing on the floor, she’d noticed Sanemi for once, was not looking at her, but at the hand he’d used to slip her the Wisteria, an unreadable heat in his eyes.

————————————————————————-

Sanemi liked to watch her while she danced.

At first, it had been unsettling to feel a pair of eyes boring into her back as she bumped and ground against Mitsuri or Suma, head tossed back as she let Shinobu’s pills work their magic, but she’d grown accustomed to it. Now, she craved the knowledge that he was thoroughly transfixed by her, because that meant at the very least, she was filling his thoughts while they were out almost as much as he filled hers every moment of the day, despite her efforts to numb him out of her life.

She’d confided her secret joy in Mitsuri, who’d conspiratorially promised her they would do anything and everything to drive the lilac-eyed man wild with desperation so that he might feel an ounce of the pining he’d shackled Y/N to feeling every time he so much as looked her way.

One night, a gaggle of them had gathered over in one of the Kizuki’s seated lounge areas as Shinobu pressed her Wisteria into their greedy, waiting palms. Sanemi’s eyes were locked on Y/N, as they usually were, as she’d exchanged a knowing glance with her pink-haired best friend and placed her pill beneath the heavy glass of her discarded drink and ground the violet pill into magic dust.

Eyes on Sanemi, Y/N delicately cupped the powder in one hand and brought her free fingers to the low bodice of her corseted top, tugging lightly on the strings to loosen it, inching it down lower to reveal the tops of the twin swells of her breasts, though stopping before she could be accused of exposing herself in public. She then turned her attention back to Mitsuri, her pink-and-green friend watching her with a sugary deviousness that made her stomach bubble with excitement.

Wordlessly, Y/N leaned back on the table, to the cheers and cat-calls of her friends, and she sprinkled some of the violet dust along the exposed top of her cleavage. Mitsuri leaned over her body, all vanilla perfume and pink hair tickling Y/N’s delicate skin as her friend held one nostril closed and inhaled every speck of the amethyst powder with the other. Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she let out a wanton moan beneath the black lights of the Kizuki, as her best friend kissed her collarbone in thanks.

Sanemi had gruffly excused himself for the bathroom and did not return for another five minutes. In his absence, Mitsuri had slyly let Y/N know that his eyes hadn’t once left her face throughout the entire vulgar exchange, much to her secret delight.

Y/N knew she was dancing closer and closer to the fire.

She knew that Sanemi wasn’t far from snapping, from losing whatever restraint he thought he had when it came to her, as she deliberately pressed each one of his buttons every time their group ventured out.

The next time he came close to breaking was when he saw another put his hands on her.

A hand gripped her ass, and Y/N turned and saw a man with long white hair and odd-colored eyes give her a wink. He was attractive, that was certain, but there was something predatory in his eyes that made her feel gross, so she moved closer to her circle of friends, keeping an eye over her shoulder.

Eventually, the strange man wandered off, and Y/N felt as though she could relax once more as she swung her hips to the beat thumping over the stereo strongly enough to make the dance floor vibrate. Shinobu held out a hand that Y/N eagerly grabbed, her friend twirling her as she laughed, carefree and alive beneath the resplendent rainbow of lights.

The song slowed to something more sensual, and Y/N was about to take her cue and move toward the bar when a hand grazed her upper arm.

Though it had been nearly two years since she’d last felt his touch, Y/N knew only one person capable of bestowing such a warm and gentle caress, even in spite of his hardened appearance.

Sanemi, to her eternal surprise, had made an appearance on the dance floor – his first if she remembered correctly.

His eyebrow was raised in question at her, and Y/N couldn’t help but appreciate he was asking permission to dance with her, rather than just sidling up and grinding on her like any other man would.

Sanemi looked so god damn handsome in that printed short-sleeve shirt. His sleeves had been cuffed to further show off his considerable biceps, and he’d left the top three buttons open, revealing his scarred but downright divinely toned chest. As he leaned in slightly, waiting for her permission, Y/N caught a whiff of his cologne, and it smelled like home.

Fuck it, she thought, her lips curving up into a siren’s smile as he stepped closer to her, bringing one large hand up to hold her waist as they began rocking to the beat of the music. Their foreheads were nearly touching as their bodies pressed closer and closer together, Y/N’s hips completely flush against his as they danced. Their noses brushed, and Y/N realized how dangerously close their lips had come.

Sanemi brought his other hand up to press against the small of her back, the one on her waist tightening slightly. Y/N looped one arm around his neck, her other hand coming to rest against his chest as they ground, Sanemi setting the pace perfectly in time with the beat.

Through her eyelashes, Y/N could see Sanemi’s amethyst gaze drop to her lips.

She knew she should pull away; she knew if she let him close the distance between their lips, she would also be closing the distance she’d spent so much time carefully crafting between her, and him, and even Kyojuro.

But Y/N also knew she couldn’t pull away, either; she’d waited, for so damn long, to know what his lips would feel like, and she was drunk and a little high, so the inhibitions that would normally have sent her running had long since been overshadowed by her unbounded want for him.

She felt his breath against her lips, and she closed her eyes.

Before she could finally achieve her lifelong dream of kissing Sanemi Shinazugawa, the music changed from the slow, sensual beat that they had been grinding to, to something louder, faster, and more exciting.

A scream grew louder as Mitsuri returned from heaving her guts up in the bathroom, and grabbed Y/N’s wrist, wrenching her from Sanemi’s grip and hauling her deeper into the dance floor to rave alongside her.

By the time Y/N was able to emerge from the surging crush of people dancing and raving, Sanemi was already back at the bar, leaning against it with his beer in hand, watching her.

She’d half expected him to look angry, but he only raised his drink at her, in toast.

The smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth was full of promise.

—————————————————————————

Y/N supposed it was inevitable that this game of cat-and-mouse they’d been playing would end, and end like this.

She’d known where the night was heading the moment she showed up at the club in Mitsuri’s emerald green dress – the one she’d worn her very first time there in that strobe light palace – and saw his eyes darken from lilac to eggplant. Y/N felt the blazing heat of his stare in her bones even as she danced with her girls, could feel his magnetic pull as he watched her like a predator eyeing its next meal.

The more sober part of her was nervous, knew that she was about to cross a line she couldn’t walk back from. She knew that what was about to happen – giving her first time to Sanemi – would do nothing but exacerbate the poisonous love in her heart, but that part of her was so small, so feeble against the fire she felt in her blood as she approached the bar where he stood.

She pretended not to notice that he watched every move she made as she leaned over the ledge to order another shot. Only after the bartender placed the little glass in front of her, only after she tipped her head back and let the acid liquid slide down her throat, did she turn to meet his punishing gaze.

“You really should try joining in on the fun, Sanemi,” she kept her voice at a normal volume, forcing him to lean in slightly to hear her over the pulsing beat of the club music. She resisted the urge to close her eyes as the familiar whiff of his cologne hit her nose, the smell of a home and of a time before he ripped her heart out and stomped it to dust.

Sanemi smirked, and her stomach dipped at just how beautiful he looked, standing there below the pulsing glow of the lights. “I’m havin’ fun watching from here.” His lips were close enough to her ear that she shivered, gooseflesh erupting over her bare arms.

She wouldn’t let him know how much he still got to her, but she also couldn’t resist teasing him a little further, curious to see how far she could push him until he broke. She lifted her hand to pat the part of his chest he’d left exposed, his skin burning under her touch, as she made to pass him.

Sanemi snapped.

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and tugged her closer to him, knocking Y/N’s breath from her as he whirled her around and pressed her up against the dirty club wall to kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. He pinned the hand she’d had on his chest against the wall, over her head, while the other burned its imprint onto her waist. His kiss was demanding and hard, but Y/N was addicted to him. She brought her free hand to his neck, digging her nails in slightly to the sensitive skin to elicit a growl from him as he nipped her bottom lip.

Sanemi released the arm he’d pinned to the greasy club wall to hold the side of her face, tilting her head to he could deepen their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth to dance with her own. Y/N couldn’t control her body as she pressed into him, desperate to feel him against her, to feel him fill every empty part of her until she felt whole again. She knew she was dooming herself further, knew she was only setting herself up to fall harder than she already had, but she couldn’t stop because it was Sanemi, and she loved him.

She felt his growing hardness against her thigh, and she couldn’t stop her hips from grinding against him, heat pooling in her belly. Sanemi moaned into her mouth as her hips undulated against his, and Y/N felt herself go molten at the sound. She wanted to make him do it again and again, but Sanemi tore his mouth from hers before she could.

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wild and dark as he looked at her. His eyes fell on her reddened, kiss-swollen mouth, and even in the dim light of the club, Y/N could see his pupils explode. He grabbed her hand, and suddenly he was tugging her through the crowded dance floor, through the groups of people near the exit, until they were outside, the night air cool on their overheated skin.

Together, they stumbled down dark, empty streets, though Y/N could not find it in herself to feel afraid, because Sanemi was there, and while he may not have cared about her enough to love her, he was still a gentleman who wouldn’t let her be hurt by anyone but him. They walked as she laughed because he kept stopping and pulling on her hand to kiss her again and again, as though he too, could not get enough of her.

Y/N didn’t know where they were going, but eventually, they arrived at an apartment complex, and it dawned on her that he’d brought her to his home. His lips were on hers the whole walk to his door, never breaking even as he fumbled for his keys. Sanemi finally unlocked the door and pushed her inside his dark apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

Sanemi’s hands shot for her waist as he crushed her against him, his tongue licking the roof of her mouth. Y/N was sweaty and slightly sticky from the club, but the way Sanemi held her to him made her feel so god damn pretty like he’d been set adrift in a starless sea and she was his only lifeline. Sanemi’s hands moved from her waist to cup her ass, kneading her flesh as he moaned into her mouth again. His hands slid lower, grabbing her thighs to lift her up so her legs could wrap around his waist.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmurs, her head tilted back as Sanemi’s lips laid claim to her neck, his hips pressing her harshly against the entryway wall of his apartment.

The snow-haired man groaned, his hands fondling the soft curve of her ass beneath her dress. “Then tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath hot as his tongue teasingly traced across her collarbone.

Y/N whimpered as she tightened her legs around his hips, locking him closer to her. If he stopped then, she thought she would fall completely apart.

“Tch, just as I thought,” his teeth nipped harshly against her throat as Sanemi pulled back to look into her eyes. “You can’t.”

Sanemi set her down, but he did not pull away, instead kneeling before her to run his large, warm hands up the length of her calves before bringing them around to the back of her knees. He tapped each leg one at a time, signaling her to lift it slightly. With a jolt, Y/N was completely suspended in the air with both legs over his shoulders, as he buried his face into her cunt.

He did not even bother removing the flimsy, lacy thong she’d worn under her dress, choosing instead to bypass it entirely as his tongue dragged right up her slit. Y/N’s head smacked into the wall behind her as she moaned, and she couldn’t tell whether it was the Wisteria or Sanemi that had her seeing fractals of light behind her eyes. She found that she didn’t much care either way, however, because what Sanemi was doing to her felt fucking incredible.

Her fingers fisted in his hair as Sanemi fucked her with his tongue, his teeth grazing across her clit in time with his thrusts into her. He was groaning lewdly as he feasted upon her, eyes lifting every so often to meet hers, to ensure she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“I knew you’d taste fucking sweet,” he muttered as he broke for air, fingers digging firmly into her ass as he hauled her back onto his mouth. His tongue darted in and out of her folds, lapping up every drop of her essence that he coaxed out of her, before he dove right back into her entrance, forcing her to ride his tongue as she writhed above him. Y/N desperately sought to grab onto anything for purchase, so that she could grind harder against his face, but Sanemi had her pinned in the middle of the wall, rendering her helpless to let him tear her first orgasm from her, followed by another, and then another, never once lifting his mouth off her tender core.

Eventually, Sanemi decided he’d had enough, and he moved to carry her to his bedroom. Just after he tossed her onto his plush mattress, there was a moment before he pounced on her when Y/N could really look at him. The only source of light was from the full moon outside, casting everything in Sanemi’s bedroom in its silvery glow. The moonlight illuminated the soft platinum of his hair, made his lavender irises melt into precious gems of amethyst as he raked his eyes over her panting, blushing form. His gaze darkened at the sight of her dress strap, hanging off her shoulder, before dropping to the hem that has ridden up her legs.

Y/N barely had time to take another breath before he was on her again, almost ripping the fabric from her in his haste to get it off, to expose her.

“This fucking dress,” he growled in her ear, finally tugging the zipper all the way down and shoving it down her legs, chucking the flimsy material behind him.

She was almost bare to him, but he was still clothed, far too clothed. Y/N sat up and ripped his shirt, the buttons popping all over the bed while he smirked down at her. She couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed, however, because then his skin was touching hers, and it felt like heaven even if Y/N knew she was only descending deeper into hell.

Sanemi graced her lips with one more bruising kiss before beginning his descent down her body, and Y/N felt electrified under his touch.

His hot mouth first came to her bare breasts. “Fuck,” he whispered as he let his tongue trace the first of her mounds, swirling around her hardened nipple before letting his teeth nip gently at her. Y/N squirmed under his ministrations, the sensation foreign to her and yet somehow, it felt wholly right, that the first person to explore her body this way would be him.

Not that she would tell him, of course; she didn’t want him to hold back, she needed him to fuck her as though there was no tomorrow. If he knew it was her first time, he would slow, or perhaps insist on stopping altogether, given that they were both high, and she couldn’t have that.

Sanemi pressed his hips down against hers, pinning her against the mattress and stilling her movements as he took his time lavishing her breasts, covering her in small marks that he soothes with sweet kisses that were enough to get her utterly drunk on him. Y/N let out a high-pitched whine as she felt Sanemi grind against the mattress as he sucked on her other breast, his abdomen pressing deliciously against her aching cunt still covered by the lace of her thong, as she desperately swiveled her hips, eager for him to relieve her once more.  

Her desperation spurred his movement, as he detached himself from her breast with a low groan, resuming his descent down her body, pausing only to suck and nip at her stomach, before settling between her legs once more. Sanemi’s lips met the band of her thong and he growled, deep and guttural as he pressed his nose against her, inhaling deeply and letting his tongue flick out once more to lap at her wetness over the rough lace obscuring her from view.

Y/N was nearly sobbing from overstimulation, Sanemi having already ensured she’d finished on his tongue three times in the hallway. Now, she needed him to fill her, and quick, or else she thought she would combust.

“Sanemi,” she whined, and his eyes flicked back up to hers, dark with want. “Please, I need you.”

Her words had an instantaneous effect on the heaving man between her legs, because suddenly his body was covering her own, his weight pressing down on her, and his pants were gone, and he was slamming into her with a force that left her screaming and writhing against his soft sheets.

“Shit!” Sanemi snarled in her ear as his cock plunged into her dripping heat, so tight and so unaccustomed to the thick length now bullying in and out of her with abandon. “You’re so – ah – fuckin’ perfect.”

Y/N was sobbing on his mattress, but not from any discomfort. The combination of Sanemi’s body mixing with the Wisteria had utterly blurred out any pain or unease she felt at the intrusion of his rigid length into her core, and instead, Y/N felt herself shatter into a million pieces, only to be fucked back together again by Sanemi, who kept one bruising hand on her hip while the other ensnared itself in her hair as he thrust wildly in and out of her.

But she was not close enough for him. The silver-haired god above her pulled her legs over his forearms and braced his hands on her inner thighs to spread her wide as he pounded into her, leaning down into her face to make her blush, just like he used to do. Only now, instead of teasing her, he was whispering filth that had her turning scarlet and begging for more.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, his hips snapping in and out of her with a ferocity that left her breathless. "You've no idea –”

The speed with which he drilled into her propelled them up his bed, but Sanemi moved an arm to come between her head and the wrought iron of his bedframe, protecting her.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he snarled, sitting back on his knees as he began to bounce her against his groin, her breasts jolting with every forceful snap of his hips.

“Sanemi,” Y/N moaned, her back arching off his luxurious sheets as her legs tightened around his hips. Under his breath, Sanemi swore.

“Again,” he croaked, the sticky pap pap of his hips slapping against hers filling his room with the sweet music of their dance. “Say it again.”

Y/N could hardly process his demand over the sensual drag of his cock in and out of her needy walls, Sanemi’s movements chasing every breath from her and replacing it with him, as though there were some parts of her that remained untainted by him.

“Again,” Sanemi insisted, his groin pressing against hers as he ground against her, his rough base swirling over her aching clit demandingly, causing her legs to spasm around his hips.

“S-Sanemi!” Y/N howled as he lifted himself from the mattress by his knees, taking her hips with him as he suspended her half in mid-air and pounded relentlessly into her, rendering her incapable of making any other sound that wasn’t a devotional to him.

Through bleary eyes, Y/N looked to see Sanemi’s own gaze fixed on the way her mouth was frozen in a perfect “o” as he pulled moan after sigh from her throat with his hips, his fingers digging into the plush of her ass as he bounced her up and down his aching member again and again. Y/N arched her back even more, allowing him to hit deeper within her and she felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in her stomach.

It was similar to what she felt out in Sanemi’s hallway, beneath his tongue, but this time was different. Every push and drag of his cock into her syrupy wetness had her feeling electric like the lights of the Kizuki club were being strung beneath her skin and plugged in, and she was slowly becoming a beacon of light for the man chasing his own release above her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as that coil wound tightly, Sanemi’s name falling from her mouth like a plea as she begged him to let her fall apart in his arms.

Above her, Sanemi fared no better, as his hips began to jerk and press into her without the steady rhythym he’d so carefully built, a cacophony of snarls and moans pouring from his mouth along with the filth he muttered against her skin as he sucked harshly at her neck.

Sanemi readjusted his stance above her, his thighs pressing hers down into the mattress, and Y/N lost control.

“N-Nemi!” Y/N gasped as the unfamiliar coil in her belly suddenly unwound. She was far too overcome by her pleasure to recognize she’d accidentally used her old, affectionate nickname for him as she reached her peak.

But the slip did not go unnoticed by the snow-haired man rutting into her from above, as the moment the nickname fell from her lips in her haze, Sanemi’s own release followed, his seed barreling into her hot and fast as a pleasured cry of her name tore from his throat.

Sanemi’s hips rolled into hers for what felt like hours as he poured every ounce of himself into her greedy, demanding core, Y/N taking every drip of his cum. It felt exquisite, to have the man she’d so desperately loved for so long be reduced to such a mess by her body, and Y/N savored the way his warmth filled her, as though it were possible of bestowing life back upon her even though it was he who’d chased it away to begin with.

He collapsed atop her, finally spent and satisfied, an arm winding around her waist as he sleepily pressed a kiss into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Sanemi rolled to his back, pulling her with him, and locking her against his chest as though they were lovers. But the combination of the night’s activities with the dwindling effects of the Wisteria had exhausted him, and it was not long before his chest began rising and falling in a steady pattern of sleep.

Y/N giggled quietly to herself, marveling over the fact that her tolerance for Shinobu’s Wisteria was apparently much higher than his. Under the moonlight, she found her dress puddled in a corner of his room and shrugged it back on, gathering her heels in one hand and locating her bag with the other. She turned back and looked at the sleeping face of the man who still held her heart and smiled slightly, before closing his bedroom door gently and taking off into the summer night.

There was a new ache between her legs, no doubt the product of having her virginity taken in such an enthusiastic way by the man she’d left sleeping in his apartment, though he was none the wiser. Y/N felt oddly satisfied, as though she’d achieved some lifelong goal, as the summer air caressed her face. As she stumbled down the night-warmed pavement back to her apartment, Y/N laughed, her chest feeling light and empty for the first time in a long while.

Want more angst? Smut? Pain? Stick around for part two and see shit literally hit the fan.

Likes, reblogs, tags, and comments are always appreciated!!

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 6

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

...........................................................................

‘Jude Bellingham, Jude fucking Bellingham was in our house?’

Ananya was plopped onto Roma’s bed, enjoying her friend’s frantic outburst. While holding on to the black RM leather jacket he had left behind. 

‘For the zillionth time, yes.’

Roma paced around the room, delirious with excitement & borderline rage.

‘And I was right here? 25 feet away? And you couldn’t call me?’

‘He was only here for like 10 mins, and….we were otherwise occupied.’

And I wasn’t really in my senses. Well, this bit she didn’t say out loud.

‘Oh my fuckin lord. Think my brain’s gonna explode. You kissed him. You kissed Jude Bellingham. Should I be happy for you or throttle you in jealousy? Fuck man!’

She continued her frantic pacing which amused Ananya further. Yes Roma had a crush on Jude (everyone did) but she had been with her college boyfriend for over 3 years. The crush was quite harmless. Borderline horny at times but generally harmless.

‘He kissed me.’

She clarified plainly, lips curving into a smile as her friend burst into another rant.

‘Yeah yeah. Lover boy couldn’t resist snogging you. I got it. But he could have said hi after.’

Ananya pulled Roma on to the bed, next to her, and hugged her tightly.

‘Next time, promise.’

That cheered her up. Her attention then went to the jacket in Ananya’s hands. When Ananya confirmed it was indeed his, she grabbed the jacket, sniffed it and hummed appreciatively.

Ananya smacked her arm in mock admonishment.

‘What? You get the whole package and I can’t even get a whiff? How’s that fair?’

Ananya just pulled the jacket back in response, wrapping it around herself.

‘Behave. Or I am telling Chris.’

Roma dismissed the false threat regarding her boyfriend. 

‘Yeah yeah. Tell me, would lover boy be open to a threesome? My birthday is in a month and you’d make the Guinness book for being the best friend ever if you serve me that sweet piece of ass.’

Ananya gasped and hit her with a pillow, both bursting into a fit of giggles.

That ugly voice inside her did wonder if he had done something like that before. Also, how easy it would have been if he had met someone as easygoing as Roma. Instead of her.

But, two nights in a row, he had asked for a chance. And she wanted to give him one. So she nipped the thoughts in the bud and let Roma distract her with all the plans she was making with the three of them together.

Monday morning brought her much needed normalcy and routine. The office was still buzzing with the Classico excitement. 

It hit her how nuts her weekend had been. When she left work on Friday evening, she had never met him. He had stormed into her life 2.5 days ago and turned everything upside down, inside out, consuming every waking moment of hers.

She opened her laptop, somehow zoned out of everything else, only checking her phone at lunch. Smiling at the notification. 

Jude: Lads are saying am buzzing today. Wonder why.

She smiled at his insinuation. Then pictured him being a nuisance in training. 

Ananya: No clue. Classico hangover? Hit your head in a tackle? 

He came online when she sent the message, probably having lunch too.

Jude: Need me to come over and give you a reminder? Your office desk instead of your dining table? 

He cut to the chase straightaway. Her whole body jerked as she pictured what he was implying. He wasn’t one to concede, on or off the pitch. She was starting to see that. 

He also was a shameless flirt. And she couldn’t afford to let him get her all riled up in the middle of work.

Ananya: Fine, you win 🤷‍♀️

Jude: Good girl :)

They both said goodbyes soon after, returning to their busy schedules.

In the evening, she sent him a quick message to wish safe travels. He responded with a relaxed selfie of him onboard the flight, making his patented ‘say cheese’ face. A sweet, goofy, handsome face. 

Next evening was Madrid’s away match. It was also Ananya’s most stressful day at work since she joined 5 months ago. She ended up missing the match but caught the highlights when she finally got a breather after sending her report. They looked rough - tackles, yellow cards, clashes all over the pitch. Madrid had drawn and missed out on 2 crucial points.

She checked her phone. The match had ended 90 mins ago. Where would he be and what to even say to him right now?

Ananya: Hey!

She dropped the message and quickly checked her laptop to see if there was any response from the New York team on the report yet. No new mail. It was already 10 pm but she would just have to wait in the office till they give an ok, or for 45 mins, whichever was sooner.

Her phone flashed.

Jude: Horrible day. Wanna punch someone.

Ananya: Punch my New York team, they pissed me off nonstop today. On your way back?

Jude: Oh nooo. Fuckin runway is down in this fuckall city. Red-eye flight tmrw then straight to training. Fuck my life.

Ananya: Wanna talk?

He face-timed her instantly. She rushed to find an empty cabin and answered his call.

It was quite a scene. It looked like someone had robbed him & trashed his hotel room. 

He was sat on the table, in front of his laptop, head resting on his forearms. That’s how she found him.

‘Hey Jude’

‘Hmphh.’

He groaned, still keeping his head buried.

‘Want me to sing it like the fans do?’

He whipped his head up. And she saw how upset he really was. Frown lines all over that pretty face. Sparkle missing from the coffee-brown eyes. Her heart yearned to comfort him.

‘Why should you? Why should the fans? I didn’t give them any reason to cheer for me today. I let them down. Let my team down. My coach, the staff, my family. I let everyone I care about down with that horrendous display today.’

She knew he wasn’t done, so she waited patiently while he gathered his breath and continued ranting.

‘We lost two crucial points because I fuckin missed sitters. SITTERS Ananya. Not one but two. Like I can score them with my eyes closed but nope. Had to be a total wanker today. When my team needed me.’

He stood up agitatedly and paced around the table. She could see he was still fully dressed, so was probably moping around in his room since he came back.

‘Did you speak to your mum?’

He took off his watch & jacket, throwing them on the bed. His shoes flew to some other corner of the room.

‘Yes. She says I wasn’t bad & that I should stop blaming myself. But she’s my mum - of course she would say that. I know I was fucking shit not just bad.’

He wrestled with his belt, peeling it off and was midway through pulling his jumper off when she spoke next. 

‘I would have to agree. Offensively you were poor today.’

Silence at the other end. He paused for 2 seconds, then took the jumper off in irritation and sat in front of her. Bare-chested. No one had said this to him tonight, even from the team or coaching staff. And obviously not his family. 

She kept her eyes firmly on his face. 

‘You wanted honesty right? So there you go. You didn’t make enough meaningful runs in the box, the link-up with the front line was not clicking and yes the finishing was unlike you. Should have scored at-least one of the two chances.’

That stung, especially coming from her. He wondered if it was the Madridista talking or the girl he was fascinated by. But at-least she wasn’t giving him any rosy crap.

‘Hmm.’

He stared at his hands. Eyes not meeting hers.

‘At the same time, I will also say that you were damn good defensively. All the tracking back, tackles, work rate, interceptions - on point. That’s a key part of your role and your team knows that. The fans can see that. Plus they smothered you every-time you touched the ball. Very physical tussle throughout. They really went for you. And the ref should have intervened sooner.’

He looked at her with such understanding and helplessness. The urge to hug him grew stronger.

‘The ref - what a stupid fuck. They should have had two red cards. See this?’

He pulled up his joggers to show her his badly bruised calf. And then his shoulder, where they had elbowed him twice. She felt like wrapping him up in a protective blanket. 

‘Oh Jude. Just put something on this ok, don’t let it be. But here is another thing - it will happen. They will come after you coz you are a key threat now. The refs won’t always intervene. You’ll need to take it in your stride and not be agitated on the field. That squaring up with the centre back - it was a yellow, you got away. Can’t react like that, can’t bump into them so aggressively. Don’t let it get to you, don’t let them win.’

He nodded absent-mindedly, still kicking himself for all his stupidities today. Her observations were bang on though. He was almost proud of her football knowledge. Not just smart in her work but an all around star. 

His grumpiness started to go down and the stiffness dissipated from his posture.

‘One last thing - what you have been doing so far is not normal. It’s the honeymoon period. You won’t score every game. A dip will come. But you will bounce back and still be great. Know why? Coz of how much you care, how much you want it, and how talented you are. If I can see it from the outside, then you must know it in your heart. Think about it, you’re 20. Last few months have been nuts. Absolute bonkers. A Ronaldo like debut even!’

That last line had the desired effect. His lips curved into a sweet smile. He knew she won’t use that analogy lightly, even for him. 

‘There he is - there’s the notorious happy boy I know.’

She smiled right back and he blew her a kiss, sending her heart reeling.

While she steadied herself, he finally noticed her surroundings.

‘Ur in office? It’s 10:30 pm.’

She groaned loudly.

‘Yup. Just sent my report. Waiting for a go ahead, then I can push off.

‘Agnes can pick you up if you want. It’s raining there no?’

‘Thanks for offering. But I will take a cab, no bother.’

‘It’s not a bother, really.’

‘Jude - I am a big girl. I’ll manage.’

She said it sweetly but firmly. He got the message. Starting to depend on him for any of these things was not what she wanted to do, so she was going to protect that space.

Ananya checked her mail again. Still no reply. She only had to wait 30 mins more then she could leave. He offered to be on call with her for that time. They spoke about random things for the next few mins - the distraction really helping them both.

Some time later, a knock on the cabin door startled her. She quickly minimised her video call screen when Arjun walked in with a cup of coffee and some cookies. Seeing that she was on a call, he left them on the table, waved at her and walked out.

Ananya watched him leave, and prayed to all gods known and unknown that Jude hadn’t seen who it was. But the silence on the line was deafening. She sighed and maximised the screen again.

The happy boy was gone. Replaced by a serious, hard face. Like someone had fouled him with a two-legged sliding tackle & run away with the ball.

‘The fuck was that?’

Jude said in a low, cold tone. Sending a chill down her back. She kept her tone steady & even in response.

‘Nothing. He’s my direct supervisor on this project. Both of us were working on this report and now we are waiting to hear back. He would have gone down to the cafeteria so just got me some coffee. That’s it. Nothing more.’

Jude only focused on a few words there - rest fell on deaf ears.

‘It’s just you two there right now?’

‘Well, on other floors there are more people. It’s investment banking after all. But on this floor, yes. Just us.’

Just us. Those words stung more than all the fouls on him that night. 

‘Does he know you are taken?’

The way he said taken sent shivers down her back, for entirely different reasons than a minute ago. His calculated, authoritative tone wasn’t helping either. 

‘We said we won’t tell anyone. So how could he know?’

‘You don’t have to tell him you are with me. But why can’t you say you are with someone? Off limits?’

He threw the logic straight back in her face. She thought about it for a few seconds. 

‘It will just invite too many questions. Too many asks for me to bring along the person at parties, get togethers blah blah. Can’t make excuses all the time, so easier to say nothing I guess.’

He turned his face away, frustrated but trying to keep a lid on it, as he thought of what to say next. But he whipped his face back at her when another unpleasant thought hit him.

‘Does he drive to work?’

She knew where this was going. He was too plain to read when he got like this. Myriad of emotions took over - she was feeling guilty, frustrated & tired at the same time. 

‘Yes. And before you ask, no, I wasn’t planning to take a ride back with him.’

‘But he has offered before, hasn’t he?’

She knew he had her beat. She wanted to protest that he was overreacting but logically and factually, he had her there. 

‘I knew it. Fuckin hate his guts I swear!’

Ananya wanted to hold him, shake him, even kiss him to make him stop talking and thinking like this. If only they were together right now.

He was thinking the same thing. If they were together, he would have grabbed her and kissed the living daylights out of her. Pouring all his frustrations into her lips.

‘Jude - you asked me to trust you. And I did. Do you not return the sentiment?’

He wanted to slam his fits on the table, but somehow held back. Didn’t she get it still?

‘Oh I trust you. It’s HIM I don’t trust.’

‘What could he do? Even if he asks me out, I will politely refuse. And we get on with our lives. How is it different from the zillion women who come on to you all the time? This is just one person.’

She was really pushing his buttons now.

‘Oh it’s different. Because that leech would be with you day and night and would think he can grow on you. Wear you down. Make you fall for him. He won’t stop trying, till he knows you are mine. Men operate like that, sweetheart. Wake up and smell the coffee.’

‘Gosh, you can be so thick. Just like all men.’

‘Excuse me?’

Was she trying to piss him off on purpose? Testing him was not a good idea tonight. 

‘Excused. Can’t you see I am not attracted to him? What will he do, some kind of voodoo to magically change my mind? In these 5 months, I have never once thought of him. Even casually. Never looked at him. And yes on paper he’s a great match for me but god damnit I don’t feel any spark there. He doesn’t make me go weak in the knees like y..’

She stopped herself just in time. His eyes watching her like a hawk. 

‘Go on.’

‘No. You don’t deserve to hear it right now.’

‘Disagree.’

‘Well you can shove your disagreement where the sun doesn’t shine.’

He smiled smugly, almost appreciatively, and leaned back in the chair, moving both arms behind his neck. Giving her a full view of his bare upper body - muscles & veins flexing & bulging at all the right places.

She knew what he was doing. And tried really hard to keep his eyes glued to his face. But her gaze wandered, making him more smug.

‘Gotta do something about that mouth of yours, no dove?’

Her lips opened and closed in vain for a comeback; he had thrown her off. 

‘Have half a mind to come straight to you when I land, wake you up in the middle of the night & keep you up. What say?’

Her skin started to feel hot and her hands gripped the edge of the chair to steady herself. 

‘Behave, pls. I am in the office.’

‘Not so sassy now, are we?’

‘As if you don’t like that.’

She whispered under her breath. 

‘Oh I love it. So much. But baby I want the sass to remain when you are wrapped around me, not just from afar.’

She sighed loudly, hating how she seemed to have no control on her senses every time she was around him. How easily he flustered her. 

‘Gosh you are just non-stop aren’t you.’

‘In every which way. You’ll find out soon.’

‘Juuuuude.’

She groaned warningly. Wondering how flushed she had gotten and how she would leave the cabin now. This boy was just too much.

At least he was smiling now. Smug, proud, conquering smile. Even that looked endearing on him, damn that prick. 

‘Okay okay. We are on for tomorrow night? My place?’

‘Yes - if no surprises at work.’

‘Cool, cya then. Let Agnes pick you up tmrw? Will be easier to enter the compound.

That seemed fair. She also noticed how he had framed it differently from earlier.

‘Ok, I will ping him directly.’

‘Great. And dove?’

‘Yes?’

He leaned in close to the screen. Soft expression. Genuine, sweet smile. Warm twinkling eyes. Handsomest of handsome face. She forgot she had been mad at him 30 seconds ago. 

‘Thanks for everything tonight. I…it was a rough day.’

She smiled from ear to ear, fighting the urge to stroke the screen of her phone where his face was. So near yet so far. 

‘Glad to see you are feeling better. Go talk to your mom now, she would be happy to see you are not in a foul mood anymore.’

45 mins were up some time ago. Still no new mail from NY, meaning she could leave now. But he somehow didn’t want to let her go. She didn’t seem to mind that either. 

It surprised him how quickly she had lifted his spirits. Just with a conversation. In the past, he would have found other outlets to channel his frustration, and a heart to heart talk would not have been in the consideration set.

But she was different. And he was also different with her. 

What he did next surprised both of them.

He leaned forward, smushed his lips against the laptop screen and kissed the spot where her face was, while making kissing noises.

Her heart skipped a couple of beats at the tenderness of the moment. And her hand went up involuntarily to stroke his face. Neither wanting to hang up still. 

But it was getting late and she wasn’t letting him arrange a ride back. So, he had to let her go.

‘Good night, babe. Ping me when you reach?’

‘Will do. Good night, Jude.’

They hung up grudgingly. Yet, neither moved from their seats. Reliving some of the moments in their heads. Tomorrow night just couldn’t come soon enough. 

...................................................................................

There you go. All this Jude content last few days drove me to write. As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / feedback. Hope you are liking the story & these two, lots more to come :)

[pookie-mulder]

My Holy Grail Fics

After the past several months of reading TXF fic, here are some of my ultimate faves so far! I’d love to know what your holy grail fics are, as well. This fandom is full of incredibly talented writers!

(Also, if have any recommendations of fics you think I’d like, send them my way!)

The Boy on the Beach by @cecilysass

I read this entire thing yesterday. Ooh boy was it a page-turner! Time travel in fiction can get dicey, but this one handles it so well. I love how the time travel plot forced M&S to confront themselves and their pasts in order to better understand each other and move forward in their relationship.

Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013

This one should come as no surprise to you. It’s rare that a fic consumes my every waking thought and I spend every free second reading as much as possible, and boy, this fic delivered. I’m such a sucker for stories like this one where the character(s) don’t know if they can trust their own minds and have to really dig deep inside themselves to find the truth.

Pause by @cecilysass

Similar concept to Gaslight as far as the amnesia goes, but totally different vibes! I love the dramatic irony of the reader putting together the pieces before Scully does. It’s agonizing in the best way!

Fall Into Place series by @skelavender

My favorite WIP fic! I look forward to reading the newest installment every Friday. I adore the slowburn, UST, teetering-on-the-edge-of-something-more MSR, and LT is the master of it! This series is filled with heart-squeezy moments that make me feel like I’m melting into a puddle of goo.

X-File #02291996 by @skelavender and @7crowsinadress

Time loop my beloved! Such an interesting (and 🔥🔥🔥) take on this trope. I can’t wait to see where it goes!

Arizona Highways by Fialka

I’m always down for an Emily AU, and this one has such a compelling, angsty twist and an air of mystery that forced me to keep reading late into the night!

Tempest by MissyPennington

I love a good survival story! There’s something so delicious about two people leaning on each other both physically and emotionally to keep going. The follow-ups are incredible, too!

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog

Amazing Emily AU! Dad!Mulder is my weakness. Plus, I love the way they figured out how to treat her illness. It really felt like something that would happen in canon.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin by cuits

Beautiful soulmate AU! Only M&S could have literal, undeniable proof they’re soulmates and still overthink their relationship to a ridiculous level. And I ate it up! Give me the angst! The drama! The tension!

Emily AU by skuls

Last Emily AU, I swear! This series melts your heart in the first installment, crushes it to pieces in the second one, and then makes everything better in the finale.

Update 7/16/24

Here’s some more!

Blinded by White Light by @dashakay

Omens by lepusarticus

Heuvelmans’ On the Track by The_Mythopoedic

Finding Rokovoko by prufrockslove

Belphegor’s Prime by prufrockslove

[whyse7vn]

KIM TAEHYUNG

HERE:

[ recommend that you read this for context ]

“You’re…. here?” Taehyung is confused.

It’s not like he was unhappy to see you or anything, in fact his insides felt as if they could fucking explode out of joy right now you’re here. He could of sworn you were mad at him, like reallly mad at him like i’m not talking to you for at least 24 hours, running you over with a car in my mind i’ll push you off a bridge type of mad at him but like he said you’re… here, at his front door. Kinda weird he notes, you definitely do have a key that you make very frequent use of but he decides he’ll call you out on it later.

“Problem?” You voice seems hoarse.

Taehyung frowns. Had you been crying?

You immediately notice the frown that boy in front of you wears and let out a small cough in an attempt to clear your throat.

“Problem?” You try again followed by an awkward smile.

Taehyung can’t help but mirror your small smile with his own boxy grin “Never”

———————-

You now sit on Taehyung’s soft brown couch legs crossed holding one of his many decorative pillows to your chest. You inhale deeply and a musky wood scent fills your nose as you exhale his automatic air freshener, located on a shelf near his tv, goes off and a sickly sweet rose scent fills the room. You scrunch your nose up in disgust but choose not to comment on it knowing that your complaints will fall onto deaf ears as Taehyung claims the smell is “super romantic and alllll the girls love it” You giggle at the memory.

“Water right?”

You break away from your thoughts and look over your shoulder to find Taehyung’s eyes staring right back at you over his kitchen counter. You’ve always liked the way Taehyung’s place was laid out. The open plan really helps his home feel connected and has become your groups go to when hanging out.

You give Taehyung a small nod and turn back around. Something’s…. missing. Your gaze falls to the floor. Oh. You now notice one of Yoentan’s chew toys tucked under the corner of Tae’s fluffy carpet, the toy is purple in colour and what seems to be in a bone shape. Your lips pull into a smile.

“Where’s Tan?” You question.

Unbeknownst to you Tae freezes. “I— erm he’s with my parents right now” He internally cringes he hates lying to you. “Schedules have been real busy lately had to put him somewhere” At least that part was true.

Realistically there was no need to lie you about Yeontan’s whereabouts. I mean sure you would have looked at him funny probably asked a bunch of questions too but ultimately he could have told you. Yet he knew as soon as that question left your mouth he wasn’t going to tell you the truth.

Simply because he’s afraid.

Afraid that you’ll be ok with where Yeontan is right now. Who he’s with right now. And knowing you as much as Taehyung hates to admit it you most likely would be okay with it. You’ll probably read into it congratulate him on finding someone. Taehyung physically rolls his eyes at the thought. He wants you to burn like he did, like he does. He wants the thought of him choosing to leave Yeontan in the care of her instead of you consumes you whole. He wants it to devour you to haunt your every waking thought he wants it to—

“He’s all the way in Deagu? You know i would of taken him if you needed me to”

Taehyung blinks “I know”

He definitely does know.

But call him jealous, call him petty he didn’t care the thought of you and Jaehyun, Joon, Yoongi, Kook and fuck even Hoseok now consumed him. Consumes him. And that’s practically why he felt no shame in calling that number buried so deep in his contact list a week ago.

Now though, he must admit as he sits around an arms length away from you on his couch this whole “no shame” thing he was feeling before had just turned into pure guilt. Taehyung desperately tries to find your eyes but you refuse to make contact the air around you both suddenly awkward. Do you know he’s lying to you perhaps? Or is this just you upset because of the breakup? It’s very rare for Taehyung to be at a loss of what to say most of the time, so with everything in him he decides to break the awkwardness that has somehow found you both.

“Soooo…you went to see Hobi?”

Your eyes lighten up instantly thankful that Tae had taken the initiative to break the silence “Yeah i just wanted to make sure he got that the whole situation wasn’t actually his fault you know he gets in his head about that kind of stuff”

Taehyung nods along with what your saying

Another wave of awkward silence takes over.

You sigh and begin to get up off the couch.

“Maybe i should lea—”

“Did you fuck him?”

Both you and Tae’s eyes widen after the bold question leaves the man’s lips. Taehyung even slaps his hand over his mouth to had to the dramatics of it all.

“I’m sorry?” You begin

“No i’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to ask that i just— i just noticed you are wearing Hobi’s hoodie and i just thought that— you know so i asked and—” Tae rambles trying to save himself.

You look down at the light blue hoodie you’re wearing very clearly not yours and equally clearly Hoseok’s due to the bold “J-HOPE” printed on each hoodie cuff and it entirely being a little too big for you. You look back up from the hoodie to Tae finding him still rambling on.

“I mean with you Jaehyun it’s like crazy so if you—”

You make eye contact with Taehyung and he shuts up almost immediately.

“What if i did?” The air shifts.

“Huh?” Taehyung is quick to reply

“Fuck Hoseok, what if i did fuck Hoseok?”

“T-thats cool” Taehyung suddenly feels small under your intense gaze.

“Is it?” You press

Taehyung nods unable to trust his own voice right now.

“Are you sure Taehyung?”

“Super sure. I don’t care”

“Then why ask?”

Taehyung turns his head away from you breaking the eye contact you both once held. The Tension in the room in the room is thick, suffocating. Taehyung takes a deep breath.

You’re here.

And Taehyung is still confused as to why. You’re making him feel guilty. Taehyung has nothing to feel guilty about. You’re still here you shouldn’t be here. Not after what’s happened today no. You’re here, why are you still here? This isn’t fair, not on him on you, on Hobi, on Joon Yoongi Koo—

Your delicate fingers on his jaw pull Taehyung both out of this spiralling thoughts and his head to face you again.

“I’m here” You speak slowly to him.

Taehyung can’t breath, he won’t breathe he refuses to breathe so many thoughts, too many thoughts it’s-it’s all not fair. Hot, his body feels hot his mind feels hot everything is just hot and the way you’re looking at him is just so…

Hot.

Fuck it. Taehyung throws all the nonexistent composure he had out the window and tugs you closer smashing his lips onto yours. His hands immediately find you hair while yours find rest on his neck your tongues dance in each other’s mouths for what feels like hours your kiss filled with so much passion and unspoken words before Taehyung pulls away for some much needed air. His hair just as disheveled as yours and lips just as swollen he smiles at you. He doesn’t say anything just stares and smiles. You go to open you mouth to say something but he’s quick to cut you off by diving back into your lips. He does this partly out of fear you’ll ask him to stop say this isn’t right and leave and party no fuck that definitely because if your lips aren’t on him in the next five seconds he’ll actually pass away.

In this moment Taehyung is happy. He’s happy and you’re here.

—

i don’t know where tf this came from shocked at myself actually

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @sopebubbles-replies @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp

[spinchip]

Bloat

(Warnings: disrespectful discussion of self harm/suicide by a side character. murder. Lots of death.)

They're here about a series of murders. Nya doesn't know why they dragged the ninja out to this nothing town with its stone castle and still water lake, with its missing persons and their empty spaces. The ninja aren't detectives, even if Zane likes to pretend. With twelve people missing, Zane keeps his fedora at home and approaches this delicately. Nya wishes he'd put on that stupid hat.

She's also not sure why she keeps slipping up and saying murder when it's really just missing persons, officially. Eight men, four women, varying ages. All different kinds of backgrounds vanished without a trace.

The ocean mourned each dead fish, every shrimp swallowed alive, but it didn't interfere. Nya struggles to find the point to this. Everyone is somber and cold in the rainy afternoon fog. Jay tries and fails to speak to her several times, slinking away with his tail between his legs each time. She could have been nicer, less blunt, when she ended things. The river does not apologize to the stone it shaves to dust. Her thoughts still feel disjointed and off. The lake's surface is so serene it's mirrored, reflecting gray clouds and dark nights.

The first two victims were teenage boys who snuck out to buy cigarettes. They were supposed to meet a mutual friend but failed to show up. The living boy is distraught, a mess, consumed by guilt and grief and fear for his friends. Kai takes Nya by the upper arm and hauls her away from the group when she says something uncouth, insensitive, cruel. The ocean had no use for manners.

She dreams of drowning in a bathtub, but she doesn't struggle. She simply sinks under cold water, closes her eyes, and-

She wakes up vomiting brackish water over the edge of her bed and doesn't tell anyone.

The seventh victim is hardly considered a victim at all. She'd tried to kill herself three weeks before she went missing, and the rude cop with the badly trimmed beard scoffs at her inclusion in the list. Probably snuck off to the woods, he sneers, finished slitting up her wrists. Nothing to do with these other cases, just lumped in there to do it.

But her mother said she'd changed her mind. What is the significance in wanting to live when death will come for you regardless? She thinks about that girl the most, and hopes she found peace.

Nya feels more aligned with the blood under her skin than the rest of her body. Flow. Liquid. It rushes through her veins like whitewater rapids.

She dreams of inky blackness, encased by water. She wakes up vomiting water again, but Zane is sitting by her bedside with a bucket and paper towel. His eyes are cold despite how he tries to hide it. They're always cold, now.

Bad dream? He asks, reserved. It's a trap but she doesn't know how.

Go back to bed She says instead, rolling over and ignoring him for the rest of the night. He doesn't leave. She doesn't fall back asleep.

Cole gets her to eat even when bread and eggs taste like salt water and seaweed. She hates the taste of the water from the tap. The lake is covered by a thin layer of mist and it smells old and stagnant. Settled water, too much of it.

Charles, the older man who tends to the castle grounds, tells her it's a man-made lake. Put together by the previous lord and lady of the land, dug out by workers paid pennies. He worked on it when he was just a boy. He doesn't say much, and he doesn't do much around the castle. Old and feeble, his mind has gone spoiled. He looks at Nya like she's inhuman.

The last victim was the lord's son, Albert. He's the only one whose name they learn immediately, the police placing his file on top of all of the others and ranking him at priority number one. It's time to do something now that the lord's son is missing.

He'll have my head, Lord Vonnet will, if I don't return his son safely The lord's royal guard dabs his sweaty forehead with a damp towel.

You poor bastard, Nya says before she can think, get your affairs in order.

Lloyd is the one to drag her out of the room looking mortified. Zane follows him out and they exchange a handful of quiet words that Nya can't hear behind the raging waves crashing in her ears. Zane takes her out to the lake.

They are all dead he says simply.

Since before we even set foot in town she confirms.

They are in the lake.

She closes her eyes and sees still, black water. At the very bottom.

The wind blows a sour smell off the surface of the lake. It might have been beautiful, once. When it was fresh and the water was clear and blue. Before it was filled with rot.

I do not know who did it he confesses I keep having bad dreams.

I dream I'm drowning she offers.

I dream I am throwing bodies in the lake he gives back.

She stares at the horizon I feel nothing. Isn't that awful.

He shrugs the ocean does not care to investigate every whale fall.

Interesting choice of words. Whale fall. There are no fish in this lake, it's all man-made she looks at him with dull eyes you think something is eating

When I toss them in the lake i Am certain they will never be found

You're not bothered by this either

He shrugs again, an entirely human act for a man whose eyes are so detached, an Emperor does not care to investigate the death of every subject

She stands and ties her hair into a bun, I'll draw them up, can you make them float?

She doesn't bother waiting for an answer, sinking her awareness down down down to the bottom of the lake. She focuses on the vaguely human shaped masses in the water, cupping them and hauling them to the surface where she lets them go and returns to the bottom. She's so powerful now she doesn't need to step foot into the water to raise up the bodies. She begins to find cow and deer carcasses alongside men and women. She finds bones. She finds old jewelry and clothes.

Finally, she finds the animal.

It was given the name stronsay by the whales and sea lions up north, where these things are typically found. Giant sea serpents, rare in the ocean- non-existent in freshwater lakes. Especially never found in man-made ones like this, too barren to support life. It was juvenile, small, and had not yet shed its baby skin. It was not thriving in this fresh water, but it would have lived until it was too big to move in this thing.

Zanes frozen the bodies of the dead and dragged them ashore.

The lord's son is one of the dead, his body in a poor state. When the rest of the ninja and the police come, after they thaw out his body, they find a leather-bound journal where he talks about the pet he hatched from an egg he found in the cold waters on his last holiday. He wrote extensively about how hungry it was, and exactly how he fed it.

He couldn’t keep up with its appetite, Nya says, staring down at his wet, bloated body.

Icarus Zane mutters at her side.

What will become of the beast? The mustaches policeman asks.

We shall slaughter it! The Lady of the land wails, And stick its head on a pike!

It will be safely and humanely relocated Nya corrects her cooly, Do not allow anyone near the lake before it is moved. Unless you don't like them.

Nya Kai warns.

Later, while Lloyd oversees the beasts removal and the others are likewise occupied, Zane asks do you think we are like them?

Dead?

Changed forever. Call it rot, putrefaction, trauma- altered and, ultimately, lost He murmurs.

I would prefer to just be dead she says without thinking, a thrum of shock at the admission the first tangible emotion she's had in days. She remembers the seventh victim. She'd changed her mind.

Zane grins and it's all teeth, a baring of bone.

Where does that leave us, if we are changed? She looks away, staring out at the lake.

Alone He says simply.

We have each other, don’t we? You understand me. I understand you.

We do He looks at her and she looks at him.

The kiss tastes like saltwater and blood. She kisses him again.

[boobo13cambridge]

A Mother's Remedy | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: none just Papa Kylian fussing over his “perfect hattrick”

Summary: You fall asleep on Kylian after spending the whole day taking care of the triplets who had the flu.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been trying to get all my previous requests done. I hope you guys like this one, it was way too cute to write. My requests are open again if you guys want to send me more. As always, please leave me feedback and don’t forget to reblog. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

The room was filled with a soft glow, courtesy of the bedside lamp casting its warm light upon the scene. The day's exhaustion had finally caught up to you as you lay nestled in the comfort of Kylian's arms, your head resting against his broad chest. It had been a long and arduous day, one that tested your strength and patience as you cared for your three precious children who were struck down by the flu.

The abrupt shift in weather proved overwhelming for your spirited young boys, whose boundless energy knew no bounds. They loved playing football outside in your backyard, and wouldn't miss a match at the Santiago Bernabeu if they could help it. Watching their father play was their greatest joy, and you couldn't help but fall in love each time seeing your precious four-year-olds donning their father's jersey proudly, their voices joining in unison with the fervent chants reverberating throughout the stadium. Ali, being the eldest among the trio, would often lead his younger brothers, Zain and Ilyas, in a rendition of the French national anthem before playing their ‘friendlies’, as he liked to call them, in the yard. Kylian found it absolutely adorable, officially dubbing them his ‘favourite hat trick’.

Kylian's fingers gently caressed your hair, soothing away the remnants of stress that clung to your tired mind. His touch was a balm to your weary soul, bringing you a sense of peace and tranquillity. The rise and fall of his chest against your cheek served as a rhythmic lullaby, coaxing you slowly to sleep.

As your eyes fluttered closed, the image of your children flashed across your mind. Their little faces flushed with fever, their once lively eyes dimmed by illness. My poor babies, you thought as you snuggled closer to your husband. You had spent the entire day tending to their every need, feeding them medicine, wiping away tears, and comforting them through the long hours of discomfort. 

A few hours earlier…

As the sun cast its golden rays across the room, you woke up with a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Stretching lazily, you slowly tried to get out of your husband’s embrace, the latter’s arms tightening his hold not wanting to let you go.

"Bébé, stay just a few more minutes," he murmured softly, nestling deeper into the curve of your neck. Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned towards him, placing a tender kiss on his nose and gently caressing his cheek.

"Kyky, I have to go wake up the triplets and get them ready for school," you explained, a fond smile gracing your lips.

"Mmmhhh, d'accord. But give me a kiss first," he playfully whined, his lips puckering in an adorable pout. Shaking your head affectionately at his antics, you indulged his request, pressing a chaste kiss on his waiting lips, before deftly extricating yourself from his embrace and making your way towards the room where your precious cubs slept.

The triplets' room was conveniently situated just across the hall from your own, one of the many reasons you both decided on this house after Kylian signed with Real Madrid. As you opened the door to the bedroom and stepped in, the sound of faint whimpering halted your movements. 

Alarm surged through your veins as you rushed towards the beds, the scene that greeted you shattered your heart into a million pieces. Lying in their beds, your little ones were flushed and perspiring, their small bodies consumed by fever. The sight of their usually bright and energetic faces now pale and tormented sent a wave of panic coursing through your veins.

Laying your hand on their sweaty foreheads, you felt how warm they were.

“Maman…” whimpered Ilyas the youngest of trio, slowly opening his eyes, “Je me sens pas bien.”

“Oh, mon pauvre petit chou. Maman’s here now,” you said, gently caressing his face. 

As you continued to caress Ilyas's flushed face, offering him reassurance and comfort, the other two boys, Zain and Ali, began to stir from their sleep. Their delicate brows furrowed in response to the discomfort that plagued them, their faces contorted in the grip of illness. The sight was a poignant reminder of their vulnerability, igniting a fierce determination within you to ease their suffering. 

With a heavy sigh, you braced yourself for the demanding day that lay ahead. Gathering your strength and summoning the resilience that only a mother possesses, you whispered soothing words to Ilyas, gently coaxing him to rest as you hear the distinct sound of Kylian’s footsteps approaching.

"Ils sont où mes petits footballeurs?" your husband boomed, entering the room with a wide smile that quickly faded upon witnessing the state of his babies. His expression transformed into one of deep concern, etching lines of worry across his handsome face. "Mon dieu, what happened?"

"They have a fever, Ky. They're burning up real bad," you replied, your voice laced with concern as you watched Kylian's eyes flicker with worry.

"Papa... Arrête de parler si fort, t’es pas un haut-parleur là," Zain weakly croaked, his voice barely audible, but still managing to convey his cheeky spirit, even in the midst of illness.

Kylian, ever the doting father, couldn't help but chuckle softly at Zain's response. "Roh là là, regarde le tit gamin," he remarked affectionately, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Even while sick, he'll give his dad cheek, eh?"

Moving softly across the room, Kylian approached Zain's bed, his presence exuding a comforting warmth. His large hand gently rested upon Zain's fevered forehead, the contrast between his cool touch and the heat radiating from the young boy's skin sending a shiver of concern down his father's spine. Soft words of comfort and reassurance spilled from Kylian's lips, offering solace and a father's unwavering love.

After giving Ilyas a soft kiss on his cheek, you stood up, knowing you needed to make some food for your little ones and help them regain their strength. Your heart ached at the sight of Ali, still sleeping restlessly in his bed. You quickly made your way to his side, gently brushing his dark tousled hair away from his forehead, and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

"Ky, can you stay with them? Get them a wet towel for their foreheads. I'll make them some porridge and give them their medicine," you suggested, softly running your hand through your oldest’s hair.

"Sure, mon amour. You go ahead, I'll take care of them," Kylian reassured you, his voice filled with tenderness. With a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you left the room, your mind racing with the urgency to prepare a comforting meal for your hungry little ones.

In the kitchen, you swiftly gathered the necessary ingredients, your hands moving with practised efficiency. As the porridge simmered, you took a moment to grab your phone and dial your mother's number.

With years of experience as a mother herself, she was a source of guidance and wisdom in times like these. You explained the situation and sought her advice on caring for your sick cubs, soaking in her comforting words and practical tips.

On the other end of the line, your mother's voice greeted you with warmth and concern. "Hello, my dear. What's going on? You sound worried."

"Hi, Mom," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of relief and anxiety. "The triplets are down with a high fever, and I'm not sure what to do. They're feeling really miserable."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry to hear that," your mother empathized. "First, make sure they stay hydrated. Offer them small sips of water frequently. And if they have any appetite, light, easily digestible foods like porridge would be good."

You nodded, taking mental notes. "Yes, I'm making them porridge now. It's almost ready."

"That's a good choice, my dear. Warm and comforting. It will help soothe their throats too," your mother advised. "And don't forget to give them their medicine. Keep a close eye on their temperature and monitor their symptoms. If things worsen or if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call their paediatrician."

"I will, Mom. Thank you so much for your guidance," you expressed your gratitude, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.

"You're welcome, my love. Remember, you're a wonderful mother, and you'll get through this. Trust your instincts and remember the best remedy is a mother’s love," your mother encouraged.

As you hung up the phone, you turned off the stove and took a moment to collect yourself. The conversation with your mother had given you a boost of confidence, reminding you of the strength and resilience within you.

Carrying the tray of steaming porridge and Tylenol back to the bedroom, you found Kylian gently coaxing Ali to wake up from his restless slumber. Your heart ached as you saw the worry etched on Kylian's face, his focus solely on their oldest, who seemed to be more affected by the fever than the others.

"Ali, mon petit lion," Kylian murmured softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "Wake up, Maman is bringing some food. It will make you feel better, je te promets, mon coeur,"

Placing the tray on the table near Ali’s bed, you placed a hand on Ali's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. His eyelashes fluttered, and his drowsy eyes slowly opened, revealing a mixture of confusion and discomfort. His weak voice quivered as he tried to speak.

"Mama... Papa," Ali croaked, his voice barely audible.

"We're here, mon amour," you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing. "You're going to be okay. Just take your time and try to eat a little. It will help you get better."

With Kylian's support, you lifted Ali into a sitting position, propping pillows behind him to provide comfort. The fragrant aroma of the porridge filled the room, its warmth wrapping around Ali like a healing embrace. Kylian scooped a spoonful and blew on it gently to cool it down before offering it to Ali.

"Open wide, Ali," Kylian encouraged, his voice laced with both concern and determination. "Just a little bite. It will give you strength."

Ali hesitated for a moment, his tired eyes meeting yours and Kylian's. The love and support shining in your gazes seemed to embolden him. With a deep breath, he parted his lips, allowing Kylian to feed him a small spoonful of porridge. The taste brought a flicker of renewed energy to his weary body, and he managed a faint smile.

"Good job, Ali," you praised him, your voice gentle. "You're doing great."

As Kylian took care of your eldest, you attended to your other two brave little boys, who patiently waited as you served them each a bowl of warm food. Zain and Ilyas were capable of eating on their own, but as the ever-doting mother, you couldn't help but worry, despite their constant reassurances that they could manage. You moved back and forth between your sons, gently wiping the sweat off their foreheads and assisting them in drinking water. Once all three boys finished their meal, you and Kylian administered fever medicine and gently coaxed them back to sleep, hoping they would recover soon.

Seeing them in such a state made you feel helpless. Usually lively boys, they now lay there, struggling with high fevers. Observing your worry, Kylian tenderly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and planting a kiss on your hair.

"Don't worry, my love. They'll be fine," he whispered softly as you sought solace by burying your head in his chest. "I can't help but worry, Ky. Especially Ali, I've never seen him like this before."

"Shh, he'll be alright," he soothed. "If you stress too much, you'll make yourself sick, and that's the last thing you want, right? The boys will be back to normal soon, my heart, okay?"

You nodded, releasing a faint sigh, as Kylian slowly closed the boys' room and led you to your shared bedroom. He was right; there was nothing more you could do but allow the fever to run its course and nurse your children back to health in the meantime. You felt grateful to have your caring husband by your side, knowing that despite being in the middle of a busy season, he always prioritized his family.

As you gently lay down, resting your head on Kylian's chest, you prayed for your family's well-being, filled with immense gratitude for your own mother, who had spent countless nights fussing over you to ensure your well-being. Your mother's words echoed in your mind, reminding you that a mother's love is the best remedy. With that thought, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, serenaded by the soothing rhythm of your lover's heartbeat.

[moon-alight]

i like your previous update

One more request 🥺

When you unconscious during a fight

Because you overwork yourself

Hello! I hope you meant &Team otherwise this is awkward 😅 (Also, I like to overwork myself, it is my form of therapy lol 🤣)

Masterlist

&Team reaction to their s/o fainting during an argument

Warnings: fainting, bit of angst

Word Count: 1004

-K

-This guy is a hothead, alright, but he would see the signs you showed of feeling unwell or ill so he tried to be a bit less harsh

-But he did not realize you were so ill you would faint. Absolutely startled when he watched your body fall to the ground.

-Immediately by your side and trying to wake you up but is unsuccesful for the first couple minutes until you finally do

-Absolutely scolds you (with tears in his eyes) that you should take better care of yourself and how much you scared him

-Forgets whatever you two had fight over beforehand and hugs you tightly against him

-Fuma

-The argument was probably about you not taking enough care of yourself as he had watched you get worse and worse

-When he was trying to prove his point, you fainted and he felt his heart sink in his chest

-You would wake up on your bed with a wet cloth against your forehead and a glass of water on the nightstand with painkillers and a note

-'You are the most worrisome person in this world. Take the painkillers, drink some water, I'll be right home with food x'

-The cold was both nice and cold which did not make sense at all.

-Fuma would arrive minutes later with your favorite food so you could still talk things out while regaining energy

-Nicholas

-My man had never called 119 (Japanese Emergency Number) as fast as he had when you fainted during your argument

-Absolutely shaking and trembling when he explained to the help-line what had happened

-You'd wake up before the ambulance arrived but Nicholas made you stay on the ground as he knew you'd still be dizzy

-Stays by your side the entire time even when the doctor is checking you for your vital signs and blood pressue

-When you seem to be just fine (maybe low blood sugar) he hands you a coke and lets the doctors leave

-Clings to you afterwards and never lets go, afraid you'd faint again.

-EJ

-It was a mild argument but it was serious enough to talk about it inside the kitchen in the afternoon.

-He watched you hold onto the kitchen isle and frowned but did not say anything until he saw how weak you'd become

-Didn't let you faint and instead sat you down on a chair as he got a glass of water for you

-Would sit next to you, rubbing up and down your arm gently as he encourages you to drink a little

-You'd soon feel better but the argument was long forgotten. Ej's just glad you're okay now.

-Yuma

-I say this at every oportunity but Yuma is a hothead!

-Will not notice anything until you've completely blacked out

-He would stare at your unconscious body for a moment in pure shock before he scrambled to get his phone and call 119

-Explains to the emergency line what happened but begins to ramble and does not know how to stop because of the pure panic

-When the ambulance arrived and checked your signs (probably when you're awake) he just stood there and watched

-Would complain about how much you scared him afterwards and ask you to never push yourself to that point again

-Jo

-Again, I wholeheartedly believe you never end up in a bad fight

-But argument happen (even if he tries his best to avoid them) and you're trying to talk things out

-You'd feel terrible suddenly and tumbled to the ground

-Jo called Ej because he had no clue what to do and the poor boy was panicking

-Ej called an ambulance for ya'll and explained to Jo that he should get you some drinks and food for when you'd wake up

-When you're checked by the doctors and have consumed a bit of the food Jo had given you, he'd stare at you with teary eyes

-"I thought I'd lost you."

-Please hold this man

-Harua (this time I didn't forget, aha!)

-Ya'lls arguments are usually easily resolved so just when you two had apologized to one another, you'd feel a wave of nausea wash over you

-He watched it happen and screamed when you hit the ground

-Tried to shake you awake to no avail which is when the panic probably started to set in

-Didn't even think to call the emergency number because he was freaking out

-When you did wake up and asked him for a glass of water this guy returned with water, chocolate, an apple and three cans of coke

-Helped you up towards the couch and hugged you as if you'd disappear if he'd let you go

-Taki

-He was listening to you explaining your point of view of the argument when he noticed you'd act weird

-He called out for you but you did not respond. After a second, you fainted.

-Taki was happy it happened inside the dorms because he could call out to K who came over and calmed him down a little

-When you'd wake up, K would give you some water before he'd leave to give you some privacy.

-You were sure Taki had never hugged you as tight as he had in that moment and stroked your hair to remind himself you were okay

-Maki

-You'd been complaining about a headache all day which he was reminded of when you'd faint during the argument you two had

-He knew it wasn't healthy to not eat or stay hydrated when it was so warm during the day so he wasn't very surprised when your body shut down

-Still freaked out a little but got you some coke (with lots of sugar) and an apple before sitting by your side and stroking your hair

-You'd wake up confusedly and he'd help you sit up while explaining what had happened

-He'd make you drink the coke so you'd at least have a bit of sugar in your system before he'd scold you for being so reckless