#i felt so inspired to (lovingly) threaten him

[twistedappletree]

Jiang Cheng I swear to god you better help Jin Ling lead the Jin sect, you better be right by his side 24/7 for at least the next 60 years of his life, he’s literally a baby and he’s not ready, you better fucking be there or I will personally break into Lotus Pier and kidnap you and drag you to Jinlintai by your silly angry little braids, tie your wrist to his with zidian and FORCE you to be there (you also have to hug him every 5 minutes for all of eternity, thems the rules toots 💋)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

WARNING: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @sturnsjtop

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[lokideservesahug]

Leave a light on

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Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: The reader is really struggling, crying, depressive thoughts, but Max is an amazing comforter and an even more amazing boyfriend:)

Notes: Based on a request by @a-beaverhausen. This is based on Leave a light on by Tom Walker (brilliant song) but isn't really. However, I listened to it, it inspired me and here is the result.

Summary: Being kept to your own thoughts is dangerous. Especially with how negative they currently are. However Max is amazing at putting a stop to both those thoughts and your unhappiness all together.

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Numb.

That's all you feel.

It had been a while since you'd felt like this. The low hum on the fan in the bedroom hits your skin but even the sound blurs into nothingness as you tumble deeper into the depths of your mind. You feel the darkness envelope you. Another unexplainable wave if sadness makes you shake your head and sit up in bed, singing your legs over the side.

You know it's useless. Your self loathing. But you feel unable to do anything. As you break from your almost coma like state, everything hits you all at once, the sound of the fan, the feel of it on your lower calf, the depressive thoughts that threaten to stain your mind forever and the low snore of Jimmy.

You turn to your left to look at the small bundle of a cat lying at the end if where your feet were moments ago. Your vet had advised against having either Jimmy or Sassy in the bedroom but when you tried to enforce it, you found that unsurprisingly, Max's resolve was far to fine especially when it came to his "children". You wish you could be that serene. Blissfully naïve to the world around you. Just a small cat living a luxurious, pampered, loved life with not a single stress in the world.

The ruffle of bedsheets catches your attention. Max turns slightly, allowing you to stare at the side of his serene figure. You trace the bridge of his nose with your eyes for what must be the millionth time, yet you never seem to get tired of it. In his sleep he finally looks calm, at one with tranquility. Well he looks calm all of the time when it's just the two of you. Even Lando has pointed out that "Mad Max" doesn't exist when you're around which usually just makes you giggle and hide your head in Max's shoulder.

But now? It just consumes you with a feeling of inescapable guilt. So that's what you try and do, escape. You softly pad out of your shared bedroom and head into the living room. The darkness is broken only by the soft ray of moonlight and when paired paired the silence, makes you feel even more melancholic. Your eyes skim over the gorgeous sights of Monaco outside of the window, many buildings emmiting a warm comforting glow from the windows. You turn away, desperate to not taint the memory of the gorgeous skyline, that you'll see for a long time to come in the following years (until you and Max move to support whatever next stage of your relationship you choose).

You look at the dresser and are greeted by the familiar cerulean of Max's eyes. The light hits the photo frame in just the perfect angle to make his smile appear as if it were glowing. It also highlights the photo next to it. One that despite your protests, Max was adamant stayed on the dresser. It depicted you on a cold day in winter out in the mountains skiing (Max was influenced by Charles' many stories about the snowy peaks). The tip of your nose and the tops of your ears are a different shade to the rest of your face due to the cold and you're gazing lovingly at Max. You dislike the photo because of your out of place hairs and the angle that gives you much more of a double chin than you'd like but Max adores the photo. He often gushes about how warm it makes him feel inside (his words, not yours), and that knowing that you loved him that much just filled him with unbridled joy.

Gosh how you wish you could feel any of that emotion now. The moment you feel your lip wobble, you turn away, desperate to not cry, goodness knows you've held it in for this long. You tuck into the dark end of the sofa, away from the light (to anyone looking at the image, it looked like you were trying to hide). And maybe that's what you were trying to do. Hide from the world, hide from your thoughts and hide from yourself.

You almost feel yourself slip into yet another spiral however you are instead greeted by the familiar feeling of Max's hand on your shoulder. Your head slowly lifts and you meet his half asleep yet clearly concerned gaze. You open your mouth ready to talk, but you feel your breath catch in your throat and your eyes well up will unshed tears. How pathetic.

Yet instead of looking at you with disgust, Max just tilts his head and mumbles a quiet "Oh, Schat." His words make your resolve crumble instantly and you feel all of the emotion flood out of you. Happiness, sadness, despair, distress all manifest in hot, wet tears and an embarrassing runny nose.

Before the first tear even has a chance to fall, Max just envelops you, covering you with his arms. You stay there for a while, Max comfortingly stroking your back and muttering soft reassurances, until your tears subside. You pull away slightly to stare at him. You go to speak and fell your voice break but Max just shakes his head. He pulls one of his arms away from your waist, the other still rubbing circles on your back, and lifts it to the apple of your cheek. He runs it under your eye and his thumb follows the remnants of your tears to which he places a small kiss on the trails afterwards.

He pulls you back into his arms.And in that moment, you know that no matter what, you will always be safe in the comfort of his arms.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[sirenedeslily]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

❛too tired to move, too tired to leave.❜

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 a tormenting and bitter autumn fades into an even colder winter, unrelenting flurries shrouding two lovers in a painful veil of memories and grief. a girl, forever haunted by what was lost and what can only unfold beneath the snow, remains trapped in a ceaseless cycle of naive love and unyielding despair’s. she finds solace in the one soul who saw her, truly saw her and gazed lovingly upon her bare, scarred flesh.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, heavy themes of grief, loss, and death. extreme violence, graphic description of physical abuse. intense emotional turmoil, including scenes of blood, domestic abuse, and parental neglect. dives into suicidal ideation and mental health struggles. little use of religious imagery, just the worst most tragic angst (i hope)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 5k !

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞, well !!! haha !!! lol !!! y’all wanted more of the “poison in the water” universe and i didn’t think the last one hurt enough so :p this is fully inspired by “hard times” by ethel cain aswell as jackieshauna from yellowjackets and also lilies + knuckle velvet by hayden again !!! i love our doomed in every universe lovebirds (,:

snowflakes drift from the sky, like tiny, crystallized secrets falling from a heaven that refuses to speak. they flutter around you, landing softly on your skin, kissing your cheeks like cold lips. you stare up at the grey sky, the winter clouds heavy with a weight they can’t hold, threatening to spill over. the air is biting, but the cold doesn’t bother you much anymore. your breath forms misty plumes that fade into the ether as soon as they appear—transient, like everything else in this world.

you turn your head slightly, and there he is—matt, smiling at you from just an arm’s length away. his face is serene, untouched by the frost gathering on his eyelashes. his eyes, usually half-lidded with that perpetual look of exhaustion, are now clear and focused on you. his lips part slightly, and he exhales a soft laugh, visible in the chilled air, and it almost makes you forget how cold you feel.

you both lie side by side, limbs sprawled like the delicate branches of the bare trees surrounding the both of you, creating a canopy over your makeshift resting place. for a moment, it feels like you’re both floating, suspended between the earth and the sky. you smile back, your lips trembling not from cold, but from something deeper—a desperate desire to hold onto this moment, this vision of matt that’s pure and unbroken.

“isn’t it beautiful?” he says, his voice soft as the snow.

“yes,” you whispers, though you’re not sure if you’re responding to him or the way the world seems to slow around you. your fingers twitch, aching to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth you know won’t be there.

but then, something shifts. a shadow creeps over your consciousness, like dark water lapping at the edges of your mind. you blink, and suddenly, the snow is not so comforting. it’s biting into your skin, sharp and relentless. your hands are covered in something darker than frost—blood. your breath hitches, your chest seizes. matt’s eyes are closed now, his breathing shallow, and you remember—

it had all started with the letter.

the church was always cold, even in the summer, but that day it felt like ice. you stood at the back pew, your fingers trembling as you slipped the letter between the pages of an old, dog-eared bible. this was your spot, where you and matt would sit during the long sermons, half-listening and half-lost in your own world. you thought he'd come here, find it, and know everything you hadn’t been able to say out loud. you didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes when he read her words, but you needed him to understand.

you never noticed it, but you weren’t alone.

your father, the preacher, had come to the church earlier than usual that morning. maybe it was fate or bad luck, but he saw you. he saw the way your hand lingered on the bible, the way your eyes darted around as if you were afraid of being caught. later, when he found the letter and read the confessions hidden within, he didn’t need to guess whom it was for. rage twisted his features as he clenched the paper, the words like a poison seeping into his mind.

he didn’t confront you just yet. no, he waited. binding his time.

“stay with me,” you murmur, and you’re back in the snow again, your voice small, a thin thread against the wind. you reach out to matt, your fingers grazing his, and for a moment, he feels warm. his smile is still there, but there’s a tiredness to it, a heaviness that mirrors the snow pressing down on you.

“you know i’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice steady and calm. his hand comes up to brush a stray snowflake from your brow, and his touch is so gentle, so tender, that you almost believe it’s real. “i can’t.”

but then you see it—a flicker in his eyes, a shadow that wasn’t there before. your heart clenches, and suddenly you’re falling again, tumbling back into the dark.

the dock had always been your sanctuary, a place where the rest of the world felt miles away. you both came here to escape, as you always did, wrapped up in each other, sharing whispers and stolen kisses. the lake stretched out like a silent witness to your secrets, its surface a broken mirror reflecting the twilight sky. you nestled into matt’s side, your head resting against his shoulder, feeling his steady breath against your hair. for a moment, it felt like the world was quiet—just the two of you and the water. but your heart was restless. you looked up at him, eyes searching his face as if you might find your future there.

“matt,” you began, your voice barely a whisper. “i’ve been thinking... thinking about leaving.”

his hand, which had been drawing lazy circles on your arm, stilled. “leaving?” he echoed, his voice neutral but his body suddenly tense.

“running away. far from this place,” you continued, your words gaining strength. “we could go somewhere new. somewhere no one knows us. you could write your stories, take it seriously, and icould run a little bookstore. just the two of us.”

you were smiling now, your eyes bright with the fantasy of it. you painted pictures with your words, of the city life and cozy apartments, of mornings spent writing and nights wrapped up in each other. you looked at him, waiting for him to smile back, to share in your vision.

but he didn’t. his face remained still, his eyes distant.

“no,” he muttered, almost too quietly to hear.

your smile faltered, but you pressed on. “we could make it work. i know we could. we just have to take that first step—”

“no,” he said again, louder this time.

you blink, your fantasy shattering like glass around you. “why not? why can’t we—”

“because i can’t just up and leave, yn!” he snapped, pulling away from you. his voice was sharp, tinged with an anger you hadn’t heard before. “i have a life here, a family. i can’t abandon them just because you want to run away from yours.”

your breath hitched, and you felt a burn behind your eyes. “they’d understand, matt. they’d want you to be happy—”

“happy?” he cut in, his voice rising. “you think this is about happiness? you think i can just throw everything away for some half-baked fantasy?”

“it’s not a fantasy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “it’s a chance—a chance for both of us to have something more!”

you were both standing now, facing each other on the dock. the wind whipped around you, and the lake seemed to swell with the tension between the both of you. tears spilled down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. you were desperate, pleading.

“please, matt,” you whispered, your voice raw and broken. “come with me. we can start over. together.”

he shook his head, his expression hardening. “no,” he said, his voice low but firm.

“why not?” you begged, stepping closer, your hands reaching for his. “why can’t you just—”

“because not everyone wants to run away from their problems, yn!” he shouted, his words like a slap. “not everyone wants to leave everything behind because their life is so fucking tragic and pathetic!”

you recoiled as if he’d struck you, your eyes widening in horror. he didn’t stop; the words kept pouring out, ugly and twisted with anger.

“you think i don’t know about your father?” he continued, his voice cold and sharp. “you think i haven’t seen the bruises? the way you flinch whenever someone raises their voice? i know, yn. i’ve always known.”

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. you stared at him, your chest heaving, feeling like you might shatter into a thousand pieces. he knew. he had known all along.

“just because your life is miserable doesn’t mean you get to drag everyone else down with you,” he spat. “i’m not going to ruin my life because yours is a mess.”

there was a moment—a long, terrible moment—where neither of you spoke. the air between the both of you was thick with pain and anger, the silence louder than any scream. you looked at him, tears streaming down your face, your heart breaking in your chest.

you didn’t say another word. you just turned and walked away, leaving him standing on the dock, the cold wind biting at his skin.

“matty,” you whisper, back in the snow again. you don’t want to remember. you don’t want to see.

“stay with me. please.”

“i’m here,” he replies softly. his voice is steady, but there’s a fragile break beneath the surface, like thin ice over deep, dark water. and you want to stay here, forever, with the boy you love. even if you can’t truly feel him. even if you know you never will.

the snow falls thicker now, a suffocating veil that dims the world. it’s getting harder to see, harder to breathe. you can’t quite tell if his eyes are open or closed, but you know he’s there. you want to reach out, to touch him, to feel something other than the agonizing emptiness, the cold truth settling into your bones. this isn’t yours. it isn’t real. the edges of your vision blur, and the snow closes in like a shroud, heavy and relentless, burying you under its weight.

you want to stay here, in the not knowing, in the almost, but— you blink, and the world shifts again.

you’re back. back to the house that was never a home, back to the cold, accusing stares of your father—the man who looked at you like you were a blight on his very soul. your mind was a haze of pain and betrayal, and you moved like a ghost through the hallways, numb to everything but the weight in your chest. you didn’t notice your father watching you from the shadows, didn’t hear the way his breath quickened with rage as you passed by. you stumbled to your room, shutting the door behind you, and crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with sobs so violent they shook you to your core.

you didn’t know. couldn’t have known. not until he stormed into your room, his face twisted with something beyond rage. he’d been the devil that night. his eyes burned with a fanatic fire, a hatred that seemed born from somewhere far deeper than anger. “dirty, broken angel,” he hissed, his voice trembling with a fury that shook the walls. “do you think you can fool me with those innocent eyes? do you think I don’t see what you are?”

the words were venom, each syllable a lash. you tried to shrink away, tried to disappear into the walls themselves, but he was on you. his hands gripped your shoulders, shaking you so violently your teeth clacked together.

suddenly, the room dissolved, the walls melting away into a harsh, biting white. you were pulled back to that relentless winter, a chill that seeped into your bones, a cold you could never seem to escape. snow fell heavily around you, swirling like ash in a dying fire. matt stood before you, his face drawn and pale against the frozen backdrop. his eyes, usually warm, were unreadable, his expression soft yet distant.

he reached out, his hand gentle as he cupped your cheek, but you couldn’t feel it. his touch, meant to soothe, was nothing but a ghost against your skin. your lips trembled from the cold, a shiver running through you that wasn’t just from the chill. “i love you,” he cooed, his breath misting in the frozen air, words meant to anchor you, but they felt hollow, distant.

he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, but even then—nothing. his kiss was as cold as the winter wind that cut through you, no warmth, no comfort. your eyes stayed wide, filled with fear and confusion, searching his face for something real, something to hold onto. but his face remained serene, his eyes boring into yours like he was trying to see something buried deep within.

then he whispered, his voice low and intimate, but the words were not his. they were familiar, dripping with venom, heavy with the weight of years past.

“this is your mother’s fault,” he murmured, and the world seemed to tilt, your breath catching in your throat. his voice, his tone, had shifted, morphed, becoming something more sinister. it wasn’t matt anymore; it was your father, the words twisted into something cruel. “your cursed existence is the reason she’s gone. a punishment. a living testament to sin.”

the snow, the cold, it all shattered like fragile glass around you, and you were back—back in your room, the air thick with dread. your father loomed above you, eyes wild and feverish, his face a grotesque mask of hatred and righteous fury. his words were still echoing, each one a branding iron against your skin.

“a punishment. a living testament to sin.” the mantra pounded in your head, searing into your very soul.

you were there again, your cheek stinging from his strike, but the pain was drowned beneath the roar of blood rushing in your ears. you scrambled to your feet, breath ragged and desperate, only to find yourself cornered against the wall. the splintered wood dug into your spine, cold and unyielding, a cruel reminder that there was nowhere left to go.

he loomed over you, his face a grotesque mask of hatred and righteousness. the stench of whiskey on his breath was sickly sweet, mingling with the cold sweat that ran down your face. his hands trembled, but his eyes—they were steady. they were locked onto you with a feverish intensity, the kind that burrowed under your skin and settled in your bones.

“you think you can be saved?” he spat, voice low and venomous, each word a curse. “you think there’s redemption for someone like you?”

his voice dripped with contempt, each word sinking into your skin like a brand. you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, crushing your ribs, making it impossible to breathe. and there, pinned between the wall and his hatred, you felt it—the cold realization that nothing you could say or do would ever be enough to erase the stain he saw in you.

you didn’t know what to say. you couldn’t speak; your throat felt like it was closing in on itself. you tried to slide along the wall, to find a way out, but he slammed his hand next to your head, trapping you.

“no,” he continued, his voice rising. “you’re beyond saving. you and that boy, both tainted.”

tears blurred your vision, but you looked up, your eyes red and swollen , yet you could still see the rage in his eyes, the way his lips curled into a snarl. his hand, still clutching the letter, the paper crumpled and torn. trembling with fury. his mouth foaming with scripture twisted into madness.

“please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t—”

“shut up!” he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. the letter fluttered to the ground, and his hands grabbed your shoulders, his grip like iron. “you ungrateful little whore,” he spat, shaking you. “you think you can defy me? disgrace me?”

his fist connected with your stomach, driving the air from your lungs. you doubled over, gasping for breath, your body folding in on itself. you felt his hand in your hair, yanking your head up, forcing you to look at him.

“i will not have a daughter who defiles this house,” he said, his voice trembling with a twisted kind of conviction. “you will repent, or you will suffer.”

his words were like ice in your veins, and you knew in that moment that there was no reasoning with him, no escaping the hell he intended to put you through. you had to get out. you had to run. he continued, his words a twisted sermon, each syllable a lash against your soul. you tried to fight back, but he was too strong, his grip like iron. the room blurred around you, and you felt yourself slipping away, drowning in the darkness.

the snow falls heavier now, each flake sharper, the cold seeping deeper into your skin, into your bones. you're back again, lying beside matt on the snow. his face is still there, just inches from yours, but it’s fading, the world around you closing in, shadows creeping in at the edges of your vision. you reach out, your hand trembling, desperate, and touch his cheek. His skin is cold—too cold, lifeless under your fingers.

“matty,” you murmur, your voice fracturing like ice under pressure. “i’m so sorry.”

he doesn’t answer. his eyes are closed now, his chest barely moving. the silence is a vast, hollow thing, swallowing you whole. panic coils in your throat, sharp and jagged, a desperate, choking fear that clutches at your lungs.

“please,” you whisper, your voice a thin, ragged thread unraveling in the cold. “don’t leave me. not you.”

but he’s slipping away, dissolving into the snow like a ghost, like something that was never real to begin with. you try to hold on, to keep him there, but your grip is weak, your fingers numb and useless. the snow piles higher around you, burying you both, burying everything you tried to hold on to, leaving you with nothing but the relentless, empty cold.

and then you’re back there, in the backyard, crumpled on the cold, dead lawn. the grass feels like shards of glass under your bruised skin, the world around you spinning in a dizzying blur. the preacher’s foot slams into your side, and you’re thrown like a ragdoll, your breath torn from your lungs in a choked, desperate cry.

“daddy, please,” you gasp, the words breaking like glass in your throat, sharp and jagged. “i’m your daughter… i’m supposed to be your little girl—”

but he doesn’t hear you. his eyes are vacant, unseeing, lips moving in some silent prayer as if trying to exorcize you like a demon. another kick lands, and you hear the sickening snap of a rib, a sound that splits the night like a gunshot.

matt is pacing his room, the silence unbearable. your face haunts him—the way your eyes widened, pools of betrayal and hurt, the way your lips trembled as you tried to hold yourself together. his words, venomous and cruel, play on repeat in his mind, an echo that builds into a deafening roar. he has to see you, to make it right, to take it all back. he grabs his coat, the cold biting at his skin, and starts toward your house.

when he arrives, the front door hangs slightly ajar, the dim light inside flickering like a dying flame. his heart pounds, a sickening dread coiling in his gut. he steps inside, calling your name, his voice breaking in the stillness, but only silence answers.

then he hears it—a low, broken cry, barely a whisper, from the backyard. he runs, panic surging through him. and there, beneath the skeletal trees, he sees your father dragging your limp, bloodied body. time slows; his breath catches in his throat.

“let her go!” matt’s voice tears through the night, raw with terror and rage.

your father turns, eyes wild and unfocused. “you,” he snarls, his voice thick with malice. “this is all your fault.”

matt doesn’t think—he just charges, fists flying, his body a blur of desperation and fury. he has to get to you, has to save you. they grapple, slipping and sliding in the mud and blood, until somehow, he manages to pull you free. you collapse against him, your body broken, your eyes wide and glazed with terror. he can see the fear in them, the plea. he can’t fail you.

your father isn’t finished. he comes again, a knife gleaming in his hand like a shard of moonlight. matt braces himself, his heart pounding like a war drum. the blade slices through the air, and white-hot pain sears his side. he grits his teeth, using the pain as fuel, and throws himself at your father, knocking him to the ground. they tumble, crashing through the underbrush, the world a chaos of limbs and fury.

“take it out on me instead,” matt shouts, his voice trembling. “if you need to hurt someone, hurt me. i can take it.”

and your father does. the knife comes down again and again, each strike a white-hot burst of agony. you scream, a sound that tears through the night like a wounded animal, but he doesn’t stop. not until matt is a crumpled heap, his face unrecognizable, his breath ragged and uneven.

“Matt,” you whisper, your voice breaking on his name. You’re a few feet away in the snow, struggling to move toward him. his blood is staining the snow around him, and your heart pounds with every agonizing inch you crawl closer.“matt,” you whisper, your voice breaking on his name. you’re there in the snow,

“stay with me,” you plead, your voice cracking, barely more than a breath. “please, stay.”

his eyes flutter open, just for a moment, and there’s something there—something soft and forgiving, something that breaks your heart all over again. his lips part, but no sound comes out. you can see him slipping away, fading into the cold night.

the knife clatters to the ground, a dull, final sound, and your father staggers back, his face a twisted mask of rage and relief. the snow around you is stained with blood, an obscene, violent canvas beneath the indifferent stars.

your body is a symphony of pain, but you force yourself to move, to crawl toward matt. every breath is a struggle, every inch a battle against the screaming agony in your bones. “matthew!” you cry, your voice ragged, desperate. “matt, please!”

the wind howls around you, carrying your cries away into the night. you drag yourself closer, your hands slipping in the blood-slick snow. the world narrows to this moment, to him.

when you finally reach him, you collapse beside him, your hands trembling as you press them against his wounds. you can barely recognize him through the blood and bruises. his breaths are shallow, each one a fragile, fading whisper. your fingers tangle themselves in his blood-matted hair, tears freezing on your cheeks. his blood is warm, soaking through his shirt and into your skin, and you press your hands to his wounds, trying to keep him here, trying to keep him with you.

you press your hands firmly against his wounds, trying to stem the flow of blood, your tears mingling with the crimson on his face. “stay with me, matthew,” you plead, your voice cracking with desperation. “please, don’t go. we can make it through this. just hold on.”

but his eyes are distant, his breaths more erratic, slipping away like sand through your fingers. “my fawn,” he whispers, his voice a ghost of itself. “i’m sorry.. i would’ve loved to run away with you—”

“no, no, no!” you scream, your voice shattering in the cold. “don’t talk like that. you’re not going to die. you can’t. please, just stay with me. i need you. i need you.”

your sobs tear from you, raw and broken, echoing through the empty woods. you hold him tighter, pressing your forehead against his, but his skin is growing colder, his breaths fading until, finally, they stop. the light in his eyes dims to nothing, leaving you alone, utterly alone, in the dark, cold night.

the agony of his death seized you in its jaws, tearing at your insides with a cruelty so profound it almost felt unreal. your screams became the wind, your cries the haunting echo that would reverberate in these woods long after you were gone. blood, warm and dark, seeped into the snow, turning it a shade of sorrow, and the night seemed to grow colder, sharper, like shards of glass piercing your skin.

time twisted around you. seconds stretched into eons. you sank into the snow, cradling matt’s broken body, your hands trembling against his cooling skin. his eyes stared past you, vacant and unfocused, his lips parted in a silent goodbye. you pressed your forehead to his, desperate to breathe him back to life, to share your warmth and will him into staying. but his soul had already slipped away, leaving nothing but this empty vessel that had once held everything you loved.

the world dimmed around you, edges blurring into a haze. somewhere in that numb, drifting fog, you saw him again—not as he was now, but as he had been: smiling, his eyes soft and full of mischief, his hair catching the sunlight just right, as if touched by gold. he was running through a field, hands outstretched, laughter dancing on the breeze like a melody only you could hear. you reached for him, a breathless plea escaping your lips, but he remained out of reach, a ghost haunting the periphery of your fading consciousness.

the snow began to fall heavier, thick flakes descending like feathers, almost gentle, almost kind in their relentless descent. you were so cold. you could feel your own life ebbing away, the blood slipping sluggishly through your veins. the forest around you seemed to shift and sway, a cruel dance of shadows and snow. your limbs grew heavier, the weight of grief and exhaustion pulling you down into the earth. your breaths came shallow, and you could taste the iron on your tongue, the salt of your tears freezing on your lips.

“matt,” you rasped again, his name a prayer, a curse, a lamentation. you were collapsing inward, folding into the pain, the emptiness where he used to be. you pressed your lips to his temple, feeling the chill seep into your bones. “please don’t leave me here alone.”

and then, in your delirium, there was a flicker—a vision, perhaps, or a cruel trick of the mind. you saw him standing before you, whole again, untouched by death’s cruel hand. his eyes met yours, and they were filled with such love, such deep, abiding love. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours, and for a moment, you felt warmth. real, solid, impossible warmth. it seeped into your skin, a desperate gasp of air after drowning.

reality snapped back with a vicious bite, and you were left grasping at nothing. his body was cold and still beneath you, the snow swallowing you both inch by inch. you could feel the blood pooling around you, freezing in the night air, a red halo that bound you together in death.

the cold became everything. it seeped into your veins, slowed your heart to a staggered, final beat. you lay there, cheek pressed to his, your breaths shallow and ragged until they too were gone. the last thing you felt was the brush of his hand in your mind’s eye, the ghost of a touch, pulling you gently into that endless dark.

and then, silence.

the numbness seeped deeper, and you were too tired to resist its pull. the pain tethered you, wrapped you in chains you were too exhausted to break. a thousand whispered thoughts blurred in your mind like snowflakes in a storm, i’m tired of you, forever tied to me. bleeding whenever you want. each word was a throb, a pulse that faded, that grew quieter with every breath you let slip away.

you wanted to move, to leave, to rip yourself from the bone-deep ache of him. but your body betrayed you, too heavy, too hollowed out. the cold kissed your skin, numbed the raw edges of your grief, but the weight of him remained. always him. always this.

your eyelids fluttered, closing against the snow that stung like a thousand tiny needles. darkness edged closer, a heavy curtain drawn around the last flicker of your consciousness. you wanted to slip beneath it, to surrender to that deep, inviting sleep. i just wanna sleep. the words were a prayer now, mouthed against his frozen cheek.

each moment stretched longer, like the last taut thread of a fraying rope. your body trembled, but your spirit was drained, emptied of all fight. you wanted to sleep, to let go of the agony that bound you to him. please, can i sleep, can i sleep? the plea filled the hollow of your chest, a soft, desperate echo.

you were tired of the way his death clung to you, the way his absence seeped into every breath, every beat of your failing heart. you were too tired to cry, too tired to feel the tears that had already frozen on your cheeks.

your breaths came slower, shallower, until there were no more breaths at all—only the silence, the snow, and the darkness that cradled you. the cold was absolute now, and you could no longer tell where you ended and he began.

you were tired, he was all you had left, the only tether in a world that had gone dark. and so you clung to him in those last moments, not out of hope, but out of sheer exhaustion, out of a weariness so deep that it became a final, bitter kind of love.

too tired to move, too tired to leave.

and at last, in that unbearable stillness, you drifted into the long sleep you had begged for, the snow falling over you both like a curtain drawing shut.

the snow descended steadily, indifferent to the agony it buried. it covered you both in a pristine shroud, erasing the violence, the blood, the suffering. alas, the world went on. the woods stood tall and quiet, a witness to the horrors of love, what it would hold onto long after you were nothing but particles and forgotten memories.

in the end, there was only the snow—soft, unfeeling, eternal. it fell and fell, a cold, white blanket that erased the past, the present, and any promise of a future. it covered you and matt, sealing you away from the world that had betrayed you both, keeping you together in a final, frozen embrace.

and there, beneath that silent, bitter veil, you found peace in the way the living never could.

ᨳུ⠀𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @l34n @sturniolossss @eternaldecisions @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @chratts-left-ball @fiowerbeds @fratbrochrisgf

my inbox is always open !!! pls feed it some content ꫶ࣺ᭮᭰ likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated. xoxo

© SIRENEDESLILY 2024

[minarinnn]

content/trigger warnings: angst, tlt spoilers!!, slight manipulation, yelling, aggression, implied relationship, inspired on favorite crime but not really that noticiable

you knew. you knew from the start that luke was the lighting thief. even worse, you helped him.

you knew that it was wrong, that he was wrong. that the path he was taking wasn’t the right one. but how could you tell him that when he so lovingly asked you to help him with his plan??

it was torture for you, having to keep such a thing from everybody at camp. watching the new kid, who seemed so sweet and innocent, be blamed for it and sent on a dangerous quest. one that would likely kill him. then finding out from luke that they suspect clarisse, one of your closest friends, to be the lighting thief.

“luke, hasn’t this gone too far? i mean, what if something bad happens to clarisse??” you asked, completely worried for your friend. afraid of the god’s wrath, for they are not know for showing mercy. “too far?” luke scoffed, turning to look at you “you wanna be a slave for the gods until you drop dead?”. he was clearly offended by your statement. “there’s bound to be collateral damage”

you sat in a secluded part of the forest, barely crossing the camp border. everyone was celebrating percy’s accomplishment, y’know, stopping the war and all. luke had told you to wait there, he didn’t tell you what he was going to do, he never did. but you sure knew what you were gonna do.

it was time to get away from this mess. even if it meant losing luke, you didn’t wanna be a part of this. and to be completely honest, you’re not sure that was your luke anymore. he’d gotten so different, and you were so worried when you first noticed the change. but after he told you and asked you to join him, could you really say no?

what seemed to be a portal opened up from a nearby tree, luke stepped out of it. he was panicked, almost scared, sweat rolled down his forehead and his eyes were almost glossy. you got up so fast it was almost instinct. “luke?” “we’re leaving, right now” he spoke urgently, frantically looking around.

“i’m not going with you, luke” you felt your breath escaping your body. luke froze, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. his eyes are practically glued onto your face now, even more hurt than they were a moment ago. “what?” he breathed out, eyes and eyebrows narrowing at you in disbelief.

“i don't want to turn my back on my friends and watch them suffer" you could feel a lump building in your throat as you stare back at luke. "i know how much this hurts, believe me. but this path you're taking it’s.. it's not the right one. and deep down, i think you know that too..”.

luke’s face contorts into a mixture of pain and anger. "you’re wrong" he spat out "you don't understand. we’re fighting for something bigger than ourselves. we’re fighting for our freedom” you took a step back, trying to protect yourself from his anger and desperation. "i understand that" you said “but i just don’t think that this is the way to do it. you’re hurting people, people who used to be your friends.. you're putting yourself in danger”

luke let out a bitter laugh, his hands clenching into fists, knuckles practically white. "danger?" he scoffed "danger is all around us— we’re demigods, for heaven's sake! danger is part of our life. but at least i’m doing something about it, instead of just sitting back and waiting for inevitable death”

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill from your glossy eyes. luke stares back at you in and his eyes soften, his expression shifting from anger to sadness. "why do you have to make this so hard?" he whispers, voice breaking slightly “just come with me and we’ll finally be free from all of th-“ "i can't be a part of this anymore, luke.. i’m sorry”

"i thought you loved me" he spoke with sadness and bitterness in his voice, taking a step closer to you while his eyes travels through yours. “i do love you” you exclaim, tested finally streaming down your cheeks “and that’s exactly why i cant watch you do this to yourself”

luke’s expression froze as he processed your response. he was clearly hurt, but perhaps more so by the realization that he had lost your support. he had been so sure that you would choose to go with him, that you would stand by his side no matter what. but now he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the resolve within you.

"i see..” he says, voice barely above a whisper. his hands travel up to the side of your face and he pulls you in for one final kiss. the kiss is sweet yet the only thing you could both feel was regret, regret of leaving the person you love most behind.

“stay.. please, stay” you whisper. his sad eyes answer for him, and you close your eyes in disappointment. "i’ll miss you” he added, kissing the top of your head.

luke turned and disappeared through the portal, leaving you alone in the forest. as he walked away, you catch’d a glimpse of tears in his eyes, but he didn’t look back. you feel a pit in your stomach, a mix of guilt and anger, as you stand alone in the forest, unsure of what to do next. in your point of view, you were just collateral damage to him.

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[himezoro]

love wins all (a roronoa zoro story, part 2) (smut)

tysm for your support on part 1 !! this story means a lot to me, i've had a lot of vision to write it etc. it's not proofread, and it's written by a tired lawyer who's been up for the past 15 hours because of a few cases. anyway, thanks for your support, and thank you for making my days so much more bearable. ilysm !! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

inspired by this song!!

@sanjisprincesswifey i know you liked the first part, so i'm dedicated it to you (i hope it doesn't suck lmao)

warning!! : nsfw (minor DNI), gender (female), mention of (Y/N), slight angst ? angry sex/cheating involved.

.・゜゜・ 1 hour before ・゜゜・．

Zoro’s years of superhuman training were a benefit here. His body was moving on its own, as fast as he could, barely paying attention to the people he was bumping into with his broad shoulders. Just like a race horse, he had blinkers preventing him from seeing the rejoice faces of the villagers preparing for the reception, dancing to the musicians’ plays on the streets and basically creating a path to the palace where the festivities were to take place.

These poor people don’t know what they’re talking about.

While he made his way closer to the palace, his mind was too busy thinking about the last words you two shared rather than thinking of an infiltration strategy. From the way your plumped lips traced thousands of “I love you” to the harsh “I hate you” they uttered when he took off, from the laughters they shared to the silent cry they failed to conceal. From the lewd sounds they let escape when his cock thrusted into your wet cunt, to the sensual moans they purred onto his lips.

For a second he felt his heart sink, and a weird feeling to his stomach. Was it anxiety because he was about to enter a restricted area? Mad, that you forgot about him so easily? Jealous, that another man, and a ridiculous one he thought, got to spend the rest of his life by your side? Sick, that a man that is not him, was to touch you in ways only he could?

He couldn’t pinpoint the right word for what he was feeling, and he frankly did not care. His goal was set, and it was to enter that palace and get to you. How would he achieve that was apparently not an important matter to him, because he just barged in, breaking through the guards with undiscovered strength, not giving a damn about the consequences.

I’m sorry guys, we’ll have some mess to clean up before tasting the banquet.

His ears almost failed to hear the guards crying for help and threatening to call the Marines, as he climbed all the stairs he found at once, his heart knowing that at the top, they led to you.

And it did.

.・゜゜・3 minutes left・゜゜・．

Zoro was facing a long corridor with a large room down the hall. The doors were slightly opened, as if he was awaited all along. Even though he knew he probably was not the person you wished to see, he still felt like the small light peering through the doors was a way to your heart. Like there was hope.

His pace slowed as he approached your doors, and his hand lingered on the door before slowly pushing it open, his good eye widening at the sight he was bestowed with.

There you were, in all your glory, your back facing the door as you looked at yourself in the huge mirror standing in front of you, gently trying out earrings that would complement your hairstyle of the day. The white dress you were wearing hugged your curves perfectly. The corset on top carved the shape of your waist, only for it to enhance the curves of your ass. The silk material left little to the imagination, and he could stay watching forever. He swore he could smell your perfume from here, already enamoring him much more. He could see the glistening of your skin as the so-short sleeves of your dress lovingly fell off your shoulders.

You were a mythology goddess. A legend, only for him to see.

And he had a chance to conquer.

・゜゜・00・゜゜・．

« So I guess my invitation got lost in the mail? » you heard the hoarse voice speaking through the opened door of your quarters. You kept on looking at yourself in the magnificent mirror standing in front of you, looking at how the white dress hugged your form, pretending not to have heard the said voice, ignoring the immediate chills it sent down your spine. You knew who these words belonged to, and so did your racing heartbeat.

You slowly reached down to the table by your side to pick another pair of earing to try out, letting Zoro enter as you calmly and sternly responded.

“The only thing that appears to have lost itself here, is you.”

Zoro scoffed as he fully entered your quarters, closing the door behind him as he stands, looking at you intently. Gosh, you were even more beautiful than in his memories. The way your hair fell so beautifully around your face. He missed your comebacks, your confidence, the way your brain seemed to understand his better than anyone else, better than he knew his own.

He slowly walked behind you, so close that you could feel his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. He only looked at you through the mirror in front of you, feeling like, at some point, this would help him keep his façade. He bore his poker and stern face while taking in your presence.

Gosh, how he wanted to pin you to that mirror and kiss you until your lips turn bloody red from how much he would bite them.

“Looking great here. Nice big ring too.” he said, the hot breath of his lips tickling your ear.

It was hard for you to ignore how fast your heart was beating, and the tension between the two of you. It was electric, deep, high. You hated the effect he had on you, how he would always manage to have you wrapped around his finger. How he could make you kneel in front of him, happily opening your mouth to welcome his hot length. How he could make you melt from the simplest of words.

How he could break your facade, break your heart and confidence under a minute.

Your eyes met through the mirror, and that’s when you noticed his new scar. It hurt, knowing that you did not have the opportunity to mend his wounds and see his progress.

“I can’t say the same for you.” You lied, breaking the eye contact by focusing on removing the earrings you had just put on.

Zoro laughed, never looking away. He agreed: beside you, he looked like a picturesque character. You were the epitome of beauty, an ethereal image. If he were Sanji, he would have probably died on the spot.

Your eyes met again.

“You could have told me you were getting married. I had the right to-“

“How dare you?” you cut him mid-sentence, turning around to face him. His new built caught you off guard, but you didn’t let that stop you from finally, cutting the air.

“Zoro you better not finish that sentence. You have no right whatsoever to know a thing about my life. Not after what you did.” You explained, clear annoyance and a hint of hurt in your voice.

“Oh, is that how it is? How it’s going to be, (Y/N)? Of course you should have told me ! How dare you not tell me?” Zoro responded, mad, stubborn, scratched. “You can’t just get married, with this creep, and believe that I don’t have MY say in this? Or are you stupid?!” he continued, not noticing he started yelling.

You slightly pushed him away to get behind him, clearly needing the space. And he was surprised he let you push him, following your movements, wondering what your dress would feel like under his touch. He stared at your dress, your bosom and the way the corset enhanced the roundness of your boobs.

He wanted to eat them out right now and tear this corset apart.

“Oh you’re the stupid one here! Zoro you cannot expect me to tell you a thing about my love life, or anything about my life for that matter, when you walked away, in the middle of the night, saying your dream was more important, right after making love to me, and leaving to the sea without as much as a note?!” you stated, yelling the last words.

“It was not the right time for us and you know it! Come on, don’t act like I forced my decision on you. You know it was the best choice.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, walking closer to him, closing the distance between the two of you to state your thoughts loud and clear. You shook your head, gathering your thoughts after Zoro’s unreasonable rambling.

“Let me ask you. What do you call someone leaving in the middle of the night, saying how his dream is more important than the night he just spent with who he called to be the love of his life, while the later cried her heart out? Do you call that a consensual decision? A mature talk? Enlighten me, Roronoa Zoro. Please, enlighten me.”

Zoro just dived into your eyes at your words. Enlighten me. The words echoed in his ears, and for a couple of seconds his brain just stopped working. Noticing his lack of response, you sighed, trying to walk past him to finally put your veil on.

But this time, he did not let you past him.

Zoro grabbed your hips and looked into your eyes before diving in and kiss you. The taste of his lips surprised you, they seemed more mature, but still as soft as they were that night. With Zoro invading your space, it was hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to resist breaking the tension lingering after all these years. Before he could slide his tongue pass your lips, you pulled back, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, whispering, afraid the universe might hear you;

“What are you doing?”

“Enlightening you.” he whispered with a smirk, his breath tickling your lips.

And these words were enough to send all senses of hurt, bitterness and ache to hell. You let him kiss you, putting your hands on his arms as he kept a firm grip on your hips. He kissed you hard, feral. His tongue parted your lips, twirling around yours as he let out a deep groan. He has been waiting for this for years, and feeling your lips respond to his sent him to heaven. He could not help but let his hands glide to your ass and give it a light squeeze, making you yelp. Your reaction made him laugh, a small, intimate laugh only you could hear.

You slowly pulled away to catch your breath, and he took the opportunity to tell you what he really meant to say before rambling the selfish nonsense he let out.

“Don’t marry him. Come with me.” He whispered, his lips meeting the side of your neck, using his tongue to tickle the soft spots he never forgot: your submaxillary triangle, your trapezius.

“What are you talking about?” you responded, still a little out of breath, and mostly, distracted by his shenanigans.

“You got me baby, loud and clear.”

The dress started to bother him, and he took the opportunity to tear the bottom to the side, creating a slit on your left leg, taking advantage of it to massage your thighs and groping your ass once more, with more force and determination. He tapped your ass, a small gesture to wrap your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the mirror.

And when your legs tightened around his waist, he knew your answer.

And so he did not waste any time anymore. He massaged your breasts through the corset of your white dress, admiring how your boobs threatened to escape only for him to lick at your buds, cupping them in between his large hands. Your hands fell into his mossy green hair, slightly pulling on the ends as his tongue danced around your clavicles.

Being the skillful swordsman he is, and having experience with his mouth and hands, his left hand went under your dress, thanks to the slit he made, so he could play with your clothed cunt, feeling its wetness forming. There are so much things he wished to say at that moment, but the way his erection irritated his pants kept him from uttering the slightest of word. And knowing him like the back of your hand, you let out a small laugh.

“Are your pants too small to contain your little friend here?”

“If you call it little then I really should jog your memory.”

With that, he pushed you against the cold mirror surface a little harder so he could unzip his pants, letting his length sprung free against the white silk.

“Be careful, you might tarnish it you idiot!”

“Like you and I care.” he proudly stated, sliding his hand under your dress and pushing his index into your cunt, while rubbing circle on your clit. He never took his eyes off you, appreciating every little of your reactions, bearing your face into his memory.

“Gosh, I missed the feeling of your pussy around my fingers, you know that right?” he desperately uttered, feeling his already hard cock getting harder. “Gosh (Y/N), I missed everything about you.” he added, pumping harder, adding another finger into your pussy, your moans getting louder and lewder.

“And I missed the feeling of your cock, Zo’..” you whimpered, a dark light sparkling in his eye as he heard your plea.

“Well you won’t miss it anymore sweatheart.” he said, removing his fingers out of your cunt and pushing up your dress some more, so he could set your white lace panty aside and slide into you.

“Hmmpf!” you whimpered in extasy, the simple feeling of his cock stretching your tight cunt already answering your needs. He waited for you to adjust and looked at you, his eyes pleading for consent. Once you nodded and gave him a soft, intimate smile, Zoro started pounding into you at a feral pace. His nails dug into your thighs and ass as he held you tight, pumping his thick cock into your warmth. You threw your head back on the cold mirror surface as you tried to keep some sense into you, tears forming in your eyes from how passionate your partner was.

“G-Gosh (Y/N), you’re still taking me so well… completely m-made for me..” Zoro managed to say, as he could feel your pussy tightening around his shaft. This felt so real, so much better than in his memories.

“Please k-keep going!” you plead, only for him to hold you tighter, spanking your ass in the process.

“I’ll k-keep only if you answer my question.” He said, slowing his thrusts, going excruciatingly slow, torturing the both of you.

But he needed to know.

“Are you coming with me to the sea?”

He stared into your eyes for as long as he could, trying to determine what went on in your head.

“Zoro..”

He thrusted hard into you, looking at you again.

“Answer me.”

He thrusted harder, his eye never leaving your beautiful face.

“I..”

He thrusted harder, so hard you swore you could feel it in your guts.

“(Y/N). You love me. I love you. Come with me.”

“Y-Yes for God’s sake I’ll c-come with you!” you cried, only for him to smile in pride and thrust into you without anything as a break. He felt ecstatic and tried his best hiding his smile into your neck, giving it sloppy kisses before giving you one more passionate kiss as you both came together, your dress a total mess, both your bodies a sweaty mess, but a loving one at best.

He looked at you and saw the smile he waited to see for so long. He gently put your legs to the ground as he looked through his pocket.

“Don’t tell me you’re looking for a condom now that we’re just done” you muttered, earning an eye-roll from the swordman.

“I’m looking for the ring I got you, dumbass.” he bluntly stated, pulling the ring out of his pocket before putting it in your hands.

“Let me take off this ugly ass ring so I can give you mine.” He said and you let him have his way, gently laughing at his usual stubbornness. He slid his ring on your finger with a prideful and loving look, trying to conceal his blush by looking away.

“So, what’s the plan now Zo?” you asked, gazing into his good eye with more love than you thought ever existed.

“There’s none. We’ve got all the time in the world.” he responded, kissing your left hand before he heard a familiar ruckus down the hall, curtesy of his captain.

“I promise you’ll get used to it.” he shyly said as he held your hand tight, definitely not letting go, love wins all, after all.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 44

Synopsis : Em and reader talk about the possibility of him retiring.

Author’s Note : hi guys 🌟. It’s been a while since I last updated Recovery. Here is a new chapter. I hope you guys like it ❤️.

You looked at Marshall, completely flabbergasted. You expected him to tell you it was a joke, that he wasn’t seriously thinking about retirement, but he looked awfully serious.

- You… you want to retire ?! You asked carefully.

- I’m thinking about it, he said. Look, babe… I’ve achieved everything I wanted when I first started. I gained respect. I worked with the people I admire most. I put out great music, I’ve toured the world, I’ve won awards… I made a fuck ton of money, that my grandchildren and even their children will benefit from. And let’s be honest : I’m fifty-two. It’s not stupid to think about retirement.

You looked at him intently, taking in everything he said. Sure, it made sense, on some level. But it also felt wrong. And weird. The man you met and fell in love with put music first and foremost, was a workaholic and would never have thought of retirement as an option. He had often joked about it, sure, especially in moments of frustration, but never in earnest. You sighed and held his hand.

- I know it makes sense, you said softly. But I know music is everything to you. And I know that you’re in a shitty situation right now, but maybe there are changes you could make ? Adjustments ?

- Sounds like something Paul would say, he chuckled. I don’t know. I’m just considering it. I often toy with the idea of disappearing from the public. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone forgot about me ? Like, not my music, but just me ? I’d be able to go places, enjoy life.

- I’m sure we can still do that, you said.

- You know, if I retired, it could benefit you as well, he pointed out. I’d have more time. Maybe be less of a grumpy asshole.

- I can’t imagine you not making music, you said.

- I’ll always have ideas, he said. It’s in my DNA at this point. But I don’t know… maybe be more of a producer ? Again, I’m just thinking, here.

- Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, you said. I love you no matter what. I just want you to be happy.

- As long as I have you, I’ll be happy, he assured you.

He pulled you to him and kissed you lovingly. You enjoyed the sunset for a minute and drove back to the house. You were about to watch a movie when you heard a knock on the door. It was Paul.

- What are you doing here ? Marshall greeted him curtly.

- Checking in on you, the manager said. You’re not answering anyone’s calls. How are you doing ?

- You know how I’m doing, he replied dryly.

- Still mad at me ? Paul asked.

- Yeah. Let me in so we can talk ?

Marshall let him in silently and sat on the couch and Paul greeted you. You were not too sure why Marshall was mad at him, though. As far as you knew, the manager hadn’t done anything wrong. You weren’t his biggest fan but you secretly hoped he would talk some sense into your boyfriend. You meant every word when you said you would be there for him no matter what, but you couldn’t imagine him retiring. Not when it came from a place of frustration and disappointment. Had he told you his inspiration had run dry, things would have been different, but this wasn’t the case and you knew it.

- I know what Tracy did is hard to swallow, Paul said tentatively.

- It’s not about Tracy, Marshall said. I mean, it is. But a full severance package… Really ?! She fucked me over, Paul. Not only me but Y/N, too. And you as well.

- You might want to let me explain, the manager said calmly.

- Yeah, your boyfriend scoffed. I’d love to know why you let her leave Shady Records with a fuckton of money and benefits for a whole year.

- She threatened to sue, his friend said.

- Sue who ? Marshall said heatedly. Us ? She’s the one who leaked the track ! She’s the one who put my career and my relationship in jeopardy ! Why the fuck would she sue us ?!?!

- Not us, Paul hummed. Y/N.

- Me ?! You asked in shock.

You were taken aback. First of all, Marshall hadn’t mentioned Paul affording Tracy tons of benefits when letting her go. Though, now that you thought about it, it further explained his bad mood. And second of all… threatening to sue you ?! That woman had some nerve. Yes, you had « broken her nose » (as far as you thought, it was just a punch) but suing… really ?

- That’s ridiculous, you scoffed.

- Is it ? Paul hummed. You did assault her !

- Don’t talk to her like that, Marshall said defensively as he protectively wrapped an arm around you.

- Merely stating facts, Paul shrugged. I understand the anger, Y/N. As I understand yours, Marshall. But the thing is, Tracy threatened to sue and I had to make the best decision. For the business and for you personally. Both of you. It’s better to lose a couple of hundred of thousands of dollars than to have to deal with unwanted media attention.

- Thank you, Paul, you said with genuine gratefulness.

- Thanks, man, Marshall said more calmly.

- I’m as pissed as you are, Paul said. But now we have to move forward. We’ll find a replacement eventually. It will probably take two people, but we’ll make it work.

- Did she do that much ? You asked.

- She did, Marshall said. Both as my assistant and Paul’s right hand.

- I have already contacted a head-hunter, we will soon have profiles to review, the manager said. In the meantime, I’m handling things.

- You can hire someone to assist you, but I’m not getting a personal assistant, Marshall declared.

The way he said it definitely seemed solemn and definitive. His manager looked at him calmly, much like a parent looks at a stubborn child.

- You don’t exactly have a choice, Paul tried to reason. You need someone to help you. I can’t do it all.

- I don’t care, Marshall groaned. You really think I’m going to let someone in again ? Have them around my house ? My kids ? Y/N ?! No way, bro. I’d rather manage my schedule myself. If there’s one to manage, that is.

You expected the manager to have some sort of big reaction but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even seemed phased by the possibility that Marshall considered retirement as a serious option after all the events that had unfolded.

- It’s only been a week, Paul finally said after a few seconds of silence.

- I know, Marshall replied. But after what happened… maybe it’s a sign. You know as much as i do that we need people we can trust.

- And you know as much as I do that you can’t decide to stop everything right now, the manager replied. Look… if you need to take a step back, that’s fine. But we still have obligations. Both towards artists you’re collaborating with, as well as promoting the album. The music video shoot at the bare minimum.

- Right, Marshall said. When is that again ?

- Late January, Paul said. Look… here’s what we’re going to do : you’re going to take some rest, enjoy the holidays. I’m cancelling your scheduled studio sessions until January. And I’m not adding anything to your schedule either. But we have to proceed with what’s been planned already.

- I guess, Marshall replied gloomily. Thanks, man.

They spent a couple of minutes talking about the aforementioned music video. You hadn’t heard about the plans to film one previously but, apparently, Track 12 - the song Marshall had written for you - having turned into a fan favorite quickly after the album release, his team had suggested making a music video. The whole plan had been made since before his tour, with a script already being finalized, casting being done and everything. In truth, the whole thing made you uneasy. People might not connect the dots and associate that song to you but the most recent events made you a bit nervous. You loved the track, it was beautiful. But you also knew that him making a music video would give the song and his personal life that much more attention.

- Are you ok ? Marshall asked as he grabbed your hand. You look like you zoned out for a minute.

- I’m thinking, that’s all, you hummed.

- About what ? Marshall asked.

- Obviously, it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but… do you really want to do this ? You shyly asked. I know people love this song. God knows I love it too but… it’s personal business.

- I know, he said softly. But I’m proud of this track. I think it’s one of the best I’ve ever made. So… if I have to make one last music video, it might as well be this one. Plus, we’ve had the script for ages. I can swear it is tasteful and it’s going to be great.

- Not to mention that we’ve already spent a lot of money on making this happen, Paul hummed.

- Yeah, that too, Marshall shrugged.

- Right, you said flatly.

- I’ll show you the script, your boyfriend offered. And since it might be my last-

- Nothing’s set in stone yet, the manager recalled. You take a break and we’ll see then.

- Whatever, Marshall said. All I’m saying is… I’ll make sure it’s perfect. You can even come on set with me.

- We’ll see, you said nervously.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your temple before going back to his conversation with Paul. They discussed some plans that had been made for the beginning of the upcoming year, some work trips, collaborations. And even though the manager understood Marshall’s wish of possibly taking a step back, he was adamant that they hire an assistant.

- We won’t need one if it’s for six months, Marshall hummed.

- I don’t think you realize everything that needs to be done, Paul groaned. I won’t have the time to assist you in everything. And last time I checked, you needed a lot of help in managing your schedule. I’m your manager and business partner, I don’t have time to be your mother, Marshall.

- Don’t treat me like a kid, man.

- Then don’t act like a bratty one, Paul said. You need someone to help you and you know it.

- No I don’t !

- The arrangements for your upcoming trips to NYC and Hawaii didn’t plan themselves, the manager argued. Neither did your medical appointments in the last twenty years. Or any of your work meetings. And don’t get me started in everything that needs to be done when you’re on a set.

- Whatever, Marshall groaned. The only people I would trust besides my immediate family are in this room : me, you, and Y/N. I’m not hiring a fucking stranger.

- For all I care, you could hire Y/N, Paul snapped. My point is : we have work to do, and I’m not letting Tracy’s departure ruin it. Neither should you.

Marshall groaned and mumbled something. His stance was defensive and he clearly didn’t want to be having this conversation. Months ago, you wouldn’t have expected to see eye to eye with Paul on anything, but there you were. Until Paul brought your name in the conversation, that is.

- Maybe you could step up to the plate, Y/N, Paul said.

- I don’t know how to say this but… no, you said. Don’t get me wrong, I want you guys to succeed. But find someone else.

- Look, it’s not a very hard job-, Paul started.

- With all due respect, Paul, I’m a scholar, you said. I’ve worked hard for my degree and, though I understand you mean well, the perspective of making coffee and appointments for Marshall is below me.

- Fine, Paul sighed. I’ll send you some profile of possible candidates, Marshall. And if you don’t choose someone by early January, I will.

- Great, Marshall said.

- Until then, I have handled your travel arrangements for next week and Christmas, he added. You’re welcome.

- Thanks man, your boyfriend said. I appreciate it.

Paul got up and grabbed his jacket, preparing to leave. Before crossing the threshold, he turned to you.

- Take care of him, will you ?

- I will, you said with a smile. Thanks, Paul.

- Good luck with him, he added with a chuckle.

As he left, you felt Marshall’s arms wrap around you and he buried his face in your neck.

- He’s annoying, he said.

- So are you, you hummed.

- Really ? He asked.

- You’re stubborn.

- It’s my life, I can do whatev-

- He cares about you, you said.

- Since when do you defend Paul ? He asked with a groan.

- Since I agree with him, you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. You shouldn’t let Tracy ruin things for you. Besides, I’m grateful he avoided a lawsuit.

- She wouldn’t have, Marshall shrugged. Simply wanted more money, I guess.

- Anyway… you didn’t tell me you planned on traveling, you hummed as you changed the subject.

- Because baldy ruined the surprise, Marshall said. I made plans for us to spend a couple of days in New York next week. To do some Christmas shopping. And after Christmas, we’re flying to Hawaii. Spending New Year’s Eve just the two of us.

- Really ?! You asked. Oh my God, you’re the best !

You turned and engulfed him in a hug. He gave you a smile and kissed you lovingly.

- I figured you’d enjoy it, he said with a grin.

- Christmas shopping in New York ! You shrieked. Do you do this every year ?

- Absolutely not, he chuckled. But you’re always watching these corny movies, so I thought you’d enjoy it. Plus, seeing as my kids think I’m a monster… I should probably suck up to them with presents.

- They don’t think you’re a monster, you argued. They love you.

- You should have seen the intervention when that track leaked, he sighed. I know they love me but I can tell they’re disappointed. I really want to make it up to them for the holidays.

You nodded and kissed him, promising that your first Christmas together with his family would be great. You wanted nothing more than for him to have a good time and, hopefully, he would go back to work in a few weeks feeling more like himself and energized.

A FEW DAYS LATER - MARSHALL’S POV

They had spend the next days planning their first holidays together. Christmas was approaching and they wanted to make it count. Marshall could tell Y/N wanted to cheer him up and, as for him, he could feel that not being on talking terms with her Dad was getting to her. Whether it was with his family or just the two of them, he wanted to make sure she would have the perfect Christmas she deserved. And if it meant putting up with his girl humming All I Want For Christmas and watching countless crappy movies, so be it. Same for decorating the house. He was usually a bit grumpy around the holidays, what with his childhood and everything. If it weren’t for his loved ones, he probably wouldn’t make a fuss about it but as long as they were happy, he didn’t mind putting up with the whole folklore. And the perspective of seeing his girl all giddy and excited when she’d admire the Christmas lights in NYC was pretty nice. He was packing his bag for the next day when he received a call from Kim, who asked if she could swing by his place to talk. He thought she wanted to coordinate with him for their daughters’ presents, but she specified that they needed to be alone. It was a little suspicious but he told her to come by anyway, since Y/N was spending the day with Talia and Jamal.

- What’s up, Kim? He asked as she entered the house. Everything alright ?

- All good, she said with a smile. I came to give you your Christmas present.

- You haven’t given me a present in fifteen years, he stated matter-of-factly. Also… it’s not Christmas yet.

- I couldn’t give it to you with other people around.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. She just smiled and handed him an envelope.

- What’s this ? He asked.

- You’ve looked out for me since we were fifteen, she said. This is me looking out for you.

He frowned, not exactly seeing what she was getting at. He opened the envelope and, much to his surprise, he found divorce papers.

- What’s that ? He asked.

- Your passport to freedom, she said with a smile. I saw how happy you are with Y/N, at Thanksgiving. She’s good for you. You even told me she’s the love of your life.

- She is, he nodded. She really is. I don’t know how she does it, but she manages to put up with my shit. And she makes me happy.

- So we agree that it doesn’t make sense to stay married to me, she simply stated. I knew you’d never ask me for a divorce, so I’m doing it. I don’t want you to have regrets.

- I’ll never regret marrying you a third time, he hummed. I did what I had to do for you and the kids. You needed me.

- And now you need to think about yourself, she said with a smile. And we both know you can’t be fully happy with her if you’re still secretly married to me.

- I guess you’re right, he agreed. Are you sure, though ?

- I’m good, she assured him. I’m not going to lie, it’s weird. But I’m sober. I’m healthy. I don’t need your help anymore. And as soon as you sign these papers, you’re free. I mean, there’s still a procedure but… it’s our third divorce, so you know how it works.

He chuckled and nodded before looking at the divorce papers again. He was touched by Kim’s kindness. She really was looking out for him. Still, it was bittersweet. Keeping this secret from everyone in his life had been tough but, on some level, it was hard to let go. She seemed to pick up on it right away.

- You know you’ll still have to put up with me, right, old man ? She joked.

- Yeah, I know, he said with a smile. It’s weird, that’s all.

- I was a lousy wife anyway, she chuckled. You won’t miss it.

- And I was a bad husband, he continued.

- Not the third time around, she remarked. This marriage has been pretty peaceful.

- For you, yeah, he grinned. I still put you through rehab and lost sleep over you for a while.

- Shut up, she giggled as she rolled her eyes. I’m trying to be a good wife, here.

- You are, he said emotionally as he brought her into a hug. It’s the nicest thing you’ve done for me.

They hugged each other tightly. It was clearly emotional for the both of them. She was right : he never would have asked for a divorce, but he was grateful that she did. He kissed her cheek and went to put the papers in his office.

- I’ll get you a good divorce settlement, he said. It’s the least I can do.

- You’ve done enough, she said. But thanks.

- Promise me you’ll take care ?

- Promise, she said with a smile. Promise me you won’t fuck it up ?

- Promise, he said. Enough fuck ups. I really though I’d lost her when that track leaked, you know ?

- I bet, she said. But I was happy for you when Hailie told me she came back and forgave you.

- Yeah. We’re working through it but we’re good. She deserves an award for supporting me and putting up with everything I’ve done, Marshall said.

- I think there’s one, she chuckled. It’s called an engagement ring.

[nelle-y]

Glory to Godwin

Synopsis: the final days of their relationship should not mean their final days alive

Content: Glory x Godwin, angst

Warnings: major character death, massacre, descriptions of gore

Note: Inspired by A Huguenot, on St. Bartholomew’s Day

—

In the midst of a massacre, hidden behind an unkept alley, was a mound of desperation and helplessness. Patches of dirt stood underneath Glory’s feet, tinting green grass and leaves as it crept up the wall. The sky was grey and the sounds of death nearly called her own name. She and Godwin hid behind the thick vines atop the wall, fearing for their lives. It was only a matter of time until the Fatui agents find them.

“Please, Godwin,” she cried, her blindfold hung above her eyes. “I beg of you. If not for my sake, then for your own life.” She buries her tear-stained face into Godwin’s chest. “Heed your own life, please!”

Her sobs broke the man’s heart. He has never seen Glory cry like this. However, he must keep his faith. No matter what the cost. It was his duty as a knight of Favonius to remain true to his word.

Glory had no such duty—she has the chance to flee and that was the choice Godwin wanted her to take. “Please, Godwin, please,” Glory pleaded him like a beggar for a meal.

All he could do was run a hand through her hair and smile, “My darling Glory, an apology is not enough to rid you of this pain.” A gun shot echoes in the distance—another life taken. Godwin holds her tight when he hears this, a hand on her head and an arm around her back. He kisses Glory’s forehead. “However, I can’t simply throw away my faith. You wouldn’t do it either, if you were in my place.”

Glory couldn’t help but feel the ache of grief slowly rise. Her head bowed to the ground, rejecting to hear the voice which will soon be lost forever. “There’s no convincing you, is there?” She breathes, defeated.

Her hands claw at Godwin’s clothes, tears threatening to burn her cheeks once more. He lifts her chin ever so lovingly, making the best of what time they have left.

Glory felt a breath from him. “Don’t,” she hushes him. “Don’t say it.” She knew all too well how much this man could hurt her, especially if he says those three words at a time like this.

Godwin returns to his soft smile, radiating a calm space for her to relive. “There!” A fatui skirmisher yells for his members. Right then and there, Glory felt her intestines drop to the floor, anxiety filling her stomach. “Go get them!”

“No!” Her desperate screams pierced their ears as agents and maidens separated the two. She itched her way out, “Let me go! Godwin!” Her hands drew for the knight only to be pulled back by an agent.

“Let her go! She’s of Snezhnayan blood,” Godwin lied in hopes that they would spare her, restrained with the hands of fatui scum. “Don’t hurt her!”

“Oh, really?” The skirmisher’s voice was rough, as if he had smoked a thousand cigarettes in his life. He walked to Godwin, gaze looking down on him. “Then I guess we’ll have to kill her last.”

Just as he was about to protest, a foot had landed on Godwin’s jaw, slight dislocation piercing the front of his ears. Glory could hear the impact of their hits on her beloved. Her bawls of agony rang through the walls of Mondstadt as she stood there, helpless. “Godwin! No, please don’t do this!”

Godwin could only watch her skew in turmoil, bound by the hands of their foe. He felt pathetic and unworthy of her undying love.

But one thing made him feel content—that he would die a hero in her heart.

To hopefully ease Glory’s suffering, he tried his best to keep quiet. Yet the pressures of the opposing groups managed to urge grunts and groans out of him. Glory kept calling Godwin’s name, hoping she could get a response, hoping he would be okay.

But instead of her name, two cracks split in the air, numbing her ears of anything pleasant.

She felt liquid drop on her feet. “Godwin!” The woman was sent into panic, chanting prayers and Barbatos’ name. Slashes of gooey somethings itched into Glory’s ears before she was thrown on something limp, wet, pulsating.

“Where’s your god now,” mocked the skirmisher.

Desperate for any contact, the blind woman kept calling his name. She took her blindfold and grazed her hands on his chest, looking for any source of blood. She could describe it as a cushion, ready for her head to lay on.

The open wound she felt reached the end of his stomach, giving way for his insides to spew out and blood stain their dirtied clothes. Godwin’s flesh smelled like iron, muscles trembling from the force of the blade.

“No. No, no, no, no,” she repeated, trying to keep her lover intact with her singular cloth and a beacon of hope. “Godwin, stay with me!” She felt his pulse, beating perfectly before fading into nothing.

Then the world fell silent and still.

No words could describe the emotion and desperation Glory had in her voice as she wailed her lover’s name one last time. Gunshots and screams in the distance, Glory could no longer hear them. It was as if her heart stopped beating the moment Godwin took his last breath.

Because amidst all the pain grief had brought, she failed to hear the footsteps that crept behind her.

“This is what you get for betraying her majesty.”

Bang.

—the end.—

[fruitcoops]

Ugh ugh ugh so i have a roommate and we are really close friends which is a amazing. she’s been sick for about two weeks now and it sort of goes in and out: it’ll be ok for a few days and then get kind of sucky. The last two days she’s not been feeling well so I’ve been cooking for her and trying to get her to take naps and stuff but she has this really horrid sounding cough? And this is way to much information but here’s the kicker: I’m not sure if I’ve developed a crush? Either way I just really want her to feel better and I want to just cuddle her and rub her back and stuff but I don’t want it to be weird in case I do have a crush?? ANYWAY point is I was hoping that if you have a sec and the inspiration strikes that you’d write some o’knutzy or coops suck cuddles. It’s nothing life threatening just y’know feeling gross and the other(s) trying their best to help. Also if you don’t feel like writing that you can just revel in the silly silly story and the image of coops and o’knutzy cuddles, which are always happy :)))) -lilo

Fic O'Ween Day 10 & 11: Scary Movie & Costumes! Combining these two into one because Halloweekend is busy : ) Lilo, I don't know the whole context here, but it sounds like this is less of a crush and more that you want to take care of someone you care about. If the feelings keep Feeling after she's better, then that might be a crush (feel free to ignore if that's not true). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW illness (cough, stuffy nose), mention of throwing up (not described)

“You c’n go without me,” came a mumble from the pile of soft things on the couch. A sniffle followed. “I don’t mind.”

Leo sighed, easing himself into the space left over with a rub to the nearest socked foot. One sad, glassy eye peeked out from the depths of his own hoodie. “Harz…”

“S’okay, really,” Finn continued. “The party’ll be fun. I’ll be okay here.”

“We’re not leaving you alone like this.”

“I’m a big kid, I can—” A squeaky yawn interrupted him. “—handle it.”

“You don’t have to, though,” Leo said gently. They had been at it all afternoon, neither he nor Logan able to talk sense into a groggy and unhappy Finn. It had taken them long enough to lovingly bully him into letting them help once he realized he couldn’t get out of bed without wobbling—a headache had followed, then sniffles and a nasty cough, and by noon he finally gave in. The couch had been designated the ‘Sick Zone’. Finn alternated between naps and looking pathetic for the next six hours.

He fumbled for a tissue and blew his nose; Leo didn’t miss the wince that twitched at his shoulders and made a mental note to herd him into a hot shower as soon as possible. “I’m not exactly exciting right now.”

“And?”

“And so you should go to the—”

“No, Finn.”

“Go to the party!” he insisted, taking Leo’s hand in one of his clammy ones. “I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to sit here and worry over me when everyone else is having fun. They’ll miss you, Le.”

“And we would miss you.” Leo squeezed his hand. It felt warmer than before—too warm. He pushed down his worry and ran a thumb over the shadows beneath Finn’s eye. “I like you even when you’re not exciting, cher.”

The front door opened with a creak and they both looked up as Logan entered with an armful of grocery bags. His nose wrinkled. “Who closed the window? It’s—étouffant, you’ll stay sick if you don’t get air in here.”

“Finn was cold.” Leo leaned up for a kiss when Logan passed and saw him soften, looking between them on the couch. He made a small noise of agreement into Leo’s lips, then moved over to brush Finn’s hair off his forehead and leave a kiss in its wake.

“You’re hot, mon rouge.”

Finn cracked a smile. “Always am.”

Logan tsked at him, but the pass of his hand over the back of Finn’s head was gentle when he moved back to the kitchen. “I got your vegetables, Knutty, but I wasn’t sure what makes a medium onion different than regular ones.”

Leo blinked. “Are they…medium-sized?”

“That’s what I’m saying, I don’t know.” Several things clattered before Logan reappeared with two onions. “Is this medium? There were bigger ones and smaller ones.”

“How many onions did you buy?”

“Twelve.”

Leo laughed and started to get up, then paused and tucked Finn tighter under the blanket. “Don’t move.”

Finn gave him a rueful smile. “Can’t.”

“Shift change,” Leo teased, taking the onions from Logan.

A tug at his elbow stopped him just before he turned into the kitchen. “How long has he been that warm?” Logan asked, so quiet Leo could hardly hear him.

His heart sank. “Not sure. He wasn’t like that when you left, so I’d guess ten to fifteen minutes.”

Logan frowned. “Is he still talking bullshit about us going to the Halloween party?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty out of it, though.” Leo touched the fine bones of his wrist and smiled. “Thanks for going to the store, baby.”

Some of Logan’s worry lifted away into a pleased blush. “De rien, mon amour. Your food is always worth it.”

--

By 8 pm, Leo’s flu suspicions were confirmed in everything but a clinical diagnosis. Finn had given up on trying to convince them to have fun without him, laying his head in Logan’s lap or curling up tight against Leo’s ribs despite his feverish forehead. He dozed until dinner, managed to keep down a bowl of soup, and mustered just enough energy to argue with Logan as the evening’s entertainment.

I’m not going to throw up.

You look like you are.

No.

Just do it, you’ll feel better.

I would rather die.

He slept for 45 minutes to recover from such a harrowing conversation and did not—much to Logan’s annoyance—do the one thing that would make him feel better faster. Finn’s stubbornness, while rare, was damn near impossible to overcome. Leo was just grateful he took a hot shower with little cajoling, even if it meant he looked like the world’s cutest boiled lobster on the other side of it. The sides of his nose were starting to chap from the tissues. Better to nip that in the bud than deal with it for the next week and a half.

Finally, they settled on the couch and let the sounds of the TV fill the apartment. Leo could hear Finn breathing softly through his mouth while Logan combed his fingers through mostly-dry hair and rubbed Finn’s back at the same time. He pulled the edge of the blanket down over Finn’s feet and relaxed into the couch, exhausted. “Dumo sends well-wishes, by the way. Celeste wants to bring over some soup tomorrow.”

Finn made a quiet sound of acknowledgement; Logan cast him a smile that made Leo’s heart warm, reaching over to squeeze his arm. “Merci.”

“Boys?”

Leo’s sleepiness vanished in an instant and he sat up straighter, bending slightly to see Finn’s flushed face. “Hey, sweetheart, do you need something?”

He shook his head and shrugged the blanket up over his shoulder. “Can we—can we watch a scary movie?”

Leo looked over to Logan, whose face had fallen into something like distress. He raised a brow; Logan hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, ‘course we can,” Leo said. “Which one?”

“Don’t care.” One hand appeared to pat Logan’s knee. “You don’t have to stay for it. I know you don’t like them.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Logan promised with a kiss to the shell of Finn’s ear. “What kind of boyfriend would I be, eh? Leaving you when you’re sick. It hasn’t happened before and it won’t happen now.”

The faint sound of chaste kisses filled the background while Leo scrolled through the ‘Horror’ section. If he guessed correctly, Finn would be out cold in less than twenty minutes, and then they could change the show to something that wouldn’t petrify Logan for the next month. He didn’t have much of an opinion on scary movies, but that was one of the trials nobody warned him about when he got two boyfriends: movie night was like a judicial negotiation.

“Thank you for staying.” Finn’s voice was nearly inaudible against the opening music. “Both of you. This isn’t how you planned on spending the night, and you worked really hard to put together our costumes, so. You know. Thanks. And sorry.”

“Finn,” they chorused with equal degrees of heartbreak.

Leo pulled on the hem of his pajama pants until Finn looked back at him, altogether too drowsy and adorable for his own good. “If we had gone to that party, we’d spend the whole night worried about you because we care that you’re safe and healthy. Getting you Gatorade and making soup is what I wanted to do. It’s what we get to do for you, now.”

Finn still didn’t look convinced, but Logan moved his hand around to tip his chin up. “It’s not because you can’t take care of yourself,” he said quietly. “It’s because you don’t have to.”

It was a good thing Logan had guided Finn’s gaze away; Leo wasn’t sure he could have handled seeing whatever expression came across his face at that. The caving of Finn’s chest and the full-body tremor that went through him was enough to make his breath catch. “I know,” Finn rasped after a few moments. “God, sorry, I—yeah, I know. I’m working on it.”

“We know.” Leo folded a hand over his ankle, just for a point of contact. “I mean, yeah, I wish we could’ve gone because you’d look hot as Ferris Bueller and I desperately want to see Lo in a fringed jacket someday. But I’m not sad about staying in and watching movies, either. This is fun. Spending time with you two is what I want.”

Finn took a tissue from Logan and blew his nose with a miserable honk. “You never have been good at picking one or the other, huh?”

“Not once,” he laughed.

“Worked pretty well, though,” Logan noted. “I’m not complaining.”

“Choices are for chumps,” Finn agreed. It was good to see him smile. The moment was only ruined a little by a sudden, violent axe-murder occurring on the television—Leo counted them lucky that Logan didn’t launch their sick boyfriend off his lap with the force of his flinch.

“Can we please just watch Halloweentown?” he begged, clutching Finn’s shoulder and arm while Finn cackled himself into a coughing fit. “Or Casper? I’ll put up with Beetlejuice, I don’t care.”

“How about The Exorcist?” Finn suggested.

“I was thinking The Conjuring,” Leo added.

A flush rose to Logan’s cheeks and he leaned over to whack Leo on the arm with a pillow. “See if I ever buy you onions again, you ungrateful, evil, horrible—”

[lustrouslee]

Finally finished one of my small fics, i got to escape the horrors of doing group projects, here you go @wolfcamellias! I got inspired by their headcanon of swk having chickens.

A little long as usual,

-Sun Wukong And The Ladies —

Sun Wukong, The Monkey King And former known as the hero of legends, was preparing chicken feed for the flock of chickens he owns, and lovingly calls them as the 'ladies', he has owned them for a while now. He hums as he puts down the bowls each for them.

He coos, "Hey ladies it's time for breakfast!~" As soon that is said, a flock of chickens excitedly bursted out their pen as their owner opened their gate. The hens chirped happily, as they pecked down on their food. Sun Wukong chuckles at the excited chirps they made, he sat down beside them eating happily.

He pats their head joyfully as they eat, he hums happily "You guys like the food?" one of the hens nodded as if she understood his question, he happily chuckles "good." soon after the chicks had come out to follow their mothers outside.

He slowly picked up one of the chicks, he gently strokes their feathers with his index finger, he puts it on his head. The chick had gotten comfortable in his fur and nestles down there. He puts two more chick in his head as they get cozy and warm in his fur.

The rest of chicken nestles down on his lap, he was surrounded by the flock of the chickens he owns as usual. He gets comfortable in his position, he tries to pet them all but alas there were too many.

He felt fluffy and warm, a comfortable feeling eased on him and the ladies and their chicks. They were purring, "Heh.. Ya'll are really getting comfortable around me aye?" He says as a lazy smile appears on his lips.

He hums a song he cherishes and usually sings, the chickens gets more comfortable, one of them even started to rub against him.

"MONKEY KING!!!" a shout erupted from the forests below, breaking the comfortable and warm feeling, which replaced by the feeling of shock, the chickens were so startled one of them landed upside down.

"Oh dear you alright?" he chuckles lightly as he flips back the startled chicken down, he pats her fluffed up feathers gently to calm her down. "There? You feel better now Chang Shu?" The chicken clucks in return as if a way to say thank you. The other chickens surrounded Sun Wukong, rubbing against him.

He quickly pats them all, "There's so many of you!" he chuckles yet again. "Monkey king!!" Another shout, it sounded more closer however and less loud than the other one. Sun Wukong heard two other voices. "Stop shouting idiot, he can hear us." a gruff -and annoyed voice, must be the son of the demon bull family, —Redson then.—

The other more in a upbeat tone, "Hey! Let him be it's been a while since we have seen monkey king! Never knew mount flower fruit is this pretty!" it was obviously, Long Xiaojiao or more commonly known as Mei in the group. Probably one of the most nicest and terrifying in the group —according to mk themselves. —

He stood up, scooping some of the chicken into his arms. The others follow their owner, protectively walking infront of him. He just shakes his head, "Cmon it's just the kid and his —not gonna lie, very rowdy friends — Mei and Redson." The chickens clucks a few times, Sun Wukong sheepishly chuckles. "Oh right he threatened you guys to turn you into chicken nuggets."

The trio of chaos had finally arrived and Sun Wukong welcomed them, "Welcome Welcome to my humble abode!" Mk's eyes had immediately shown excitement in them as he goes closer to the monkey king, and crouches down to pet the chickens, and Mei his bestfriend, did the same.

"Aww!! They're so adorable!" both of them had said together, while the demon bull instead scoffed, "Cmon now, they're just chickens." he grumbled, Mei shots him down with a glare as Mk instead had a pout on his lips. Sun Wukong simply shakes his head in disappointment, "as so Monkey King—" Mk tapped his shoulder as he stood up.

Sun Wukong tilted his head slightly, "What is it kid?" he asks as he puts a smile on his face. "Ah so can me and Mei cuddle them for a while?" Mk said, as Mei stood up and puts her arms on his shoulder. "Yeahh can we?" Both of them had done the infamous puppy eyes™, Sun Wukong couldn't resist, as per usual.

"Alright Alright you could have them for a while. Just be careful with them—" as soon as he agreed and said yes, the two immediately grabbed some chickens and went somewhere in the mountain, leaving him with redson, and some of the chickens. "Ah gee they're always energetic." Redson didn't really say anything, execpt for a small nod.

"They're just normal chickens, there's nothing special about them—" He says as he gets attacked and harassed by the chickens, "WHAT THE FU–" he runs away, the chickens were too overwhelming to him. Sun Wukong laughs loudly and wheezes, startling the chickens on his arms, "Ahh that is so golden to see.. Wish Mk and Mei could've saw it." as he wipes of the tears on his eyes, the chickens in his arms chirps.

"Alright alright let's get you guys back to the pen"

[two-red-lungs]

Magic Fingers

(Eddie x Fem!Reader Smutfic)

Contents: Smut (obviously), fingering, overstimulation, service-top Eddie, squirting, dirty-talk (he’d be so good at it I just know it)

Word Count: 1k

Song Inspiration: X

“Cmon, c’mon. Fuck. Fuck, princess, lookin’ so pretty for me, jesus christ.” Eddie was rambling in that low, sex-hoarse voice of his, lips inches from your ear. His hot breath ghosted over your blood-flushed cheek.

His fingers- those goddamn fingers, so long and veiny and strong, with perfect short and rounded nails- squelched wetly inside you. In and out, jackhammer fast. His bracelet rattled against the button on his jacket sleeve from his manic pace. He was going up to the last knuckle each time, digging deep inside you. Hitting you in all the right places.

You could feel it, the way your slick wetness was soaking his hand, dribbling down his broad calloused palm. How it was slicking up the inside of your thighs and puddling down on his stained sheets. Yeah, you could feel it, but you couldn’t think about it: the wall of pleasure he was demandingly stirring up inside your gummy pink walls was brain-blanking. Absolutely mind-wiping. 

Those guitar callouses wiped away every lucid thought, every strung-together sentence. Reducing your existence to just Eddie. Eddie, breathing elevated from arousal, sitting behind you, propping your weight up against his chest. Holding your shaking, sweaty legs open with his own, locking them in place. Digging his fingers into your sopping cunt like it owed him money. 

And he fucking talked the whole time, too, like it was a goddamn sporting event. Like watching his veiny digits disappearing into your messy wet heat was the best thing he’d ever experienced. 

“Mm, feels good, huh princess? Yeah, I can tell. I can tell.” Eddie groaned in your ear. Pulling his fingers out to lovingly slap at your wet folds a few times before shoving them back in and curling. “Yeah, yeah, make those pretty noises. Fuck. Fuck. So fucking wet, hmm, for me?”

“Yeah.” Was all you could whine out. Your stomach muscles spasmed when his thumb bumped against your clit, nudging the sensitive, swollen bud. He laughed breathily at your reaction, almost teasingly. 

Jesus, jesus, he was relentless. Only stopping his maniacal, sloppy fingering to run all his fingers up and down your pussy affectionally, or to rub tight circles around your clit and drink up the way your breathing hitched. And then he was right back to it. 

“How many times have you cum on these fingers, huh, princess? These fingers you love so much? Twice, already? Or was it three?” When you didn’t respond, he pressed a messy and wet kiss to your neck, with just enough teeth to make you gasp. “I’m gonna need an answer. Come on. Use your words. I know you’ve got a brain rattling around in there somewhere.”

“Fuuuuuu- three, it was three, Eddie- S’too much, holy shit, god!”

“Nah.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He used his free hand to grab at the meat of your inner thigh, dragging your legs open when they threatened to sag closed. Shoving his bundle of fingers back into your relaxed, drooling pussy. “You can take it, can’t you, big girl? I know you can take it.” His fingers sped up, strokes less even, more intense and demanding. “Take it. Take it, princess, fuck, you’re soaked. You love it. Love my fingers so much. Love what I do to you. How I take you apart, shit.”

It was so much. A tsunami of sensation, pleasure like molten metal, running up your chest and down your legs. It was making you feel stupid. “Fuck, Eddie, Eddie, I- I...”

He groaned into your hair when he felt you tightening up around his clever fingers. “Yes, fuck, princess, that’s what I fucking live for. You gonna cum again? Gonna cum with my fingers inside you, like a good little girl?”

“Shit, shit-”

“I want it. Come on, cum, cum, you sweet silly little slut, cum on my fingers, I want it, I want it-”

Your orgasm hit you like a fucking freight train. You vision blackened, eyes rolling into the back of your head: you were barely aware of Eddie groaning gutterally, laughing disbelievingly as he continued to brutally fingerfuck you. 

“Shhhhhit. Oh my god.” He was humming out, mouth against your head. 

It was only when you came back to yourself, legs falling open against his and hair sticking to your sweaty face, that you realized the sheets in front of you were soaked. Eddie’s forearm, still curled down over your torso with a warm hand cupping your cunt, was sprayed dark with wetness. 

You'd squirted. Oh my god, he’d made you squirt. Fucking epically, apparently: it looked like a made-up scene from a porno. 

“...I didn’t know you could do that.” He sounded awed, voice hot against the shell of your ear. 

“Neither did I.” You replied weakly. Your voice wobbled with exhaustion. 

Eddie’s bedroom was quiet for a moment as you caught your breath. God, your whole body was throbbing with your heartbeat, and the insides of your elbows and knees were dripping with sweat. It was all you could do to just sit upright, against Eddie’s broad torso, feeling his heat bleed into yours. 

“That was so fucking cool, baby.” Eddie was murmuring his approval, the hand not cupping your clenching cunt running up and down your thigh. His metal rings were warm on your skin.  “That was... god. Fuck.” He ground his jean-clad pelvis against the soft meat of your back, painfully and obviously hard. “That was so hot.”

You were opening your mouth to response, and the words caught in your throat. Choking you, when Eddie’s slick-soaked fingers cupping your abused folds started to move again; tracing up and down. His index finger slowly breached you, centimeter by centimeter. 

“Eddie... I can’t, I can’t-” You protested weakly, pushing back against his chest and thumping your fist against his thigh. 

“Shhh. Hey. I got you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head. The hand stroking your thigh tightened to a grip. “I got you. I just wanna see you get my sheets wet again. Just one more time. You can do one more.” When he started fucking your loose heat with his finger, you whined pathetically. He talked over it soothingly. “You can do it. You can do it, I promise. Just relax. Let me put some pretty fingers in that perfect pussy.”

“...Okay, I’m... Okay. Okay.” You hiccuped out, conceding. 

Another kiss on the back of your head. “That’s my girl.”

[maomao-words]

Hi, I'm sorry for bothering you when the request is closed but I hope you would read my request once it's open again. I was wondering if you could write about Tears of Themis boys with a MC who was being bullied (I mean like when in Vyn's story where she was sent bad messages) This is just my idea, it's fine whether you want to write it or not😄 Thank you very muchhh🙏🙏 By the way, I really love your writings😘❤️

Hewo my dear! I am finally opening my ask box again!

I tried to finish up responding to my oldest requests, but I realized I needed new inspiration in order to finish up what is left (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Thank you for liking my writings and I hope you like these just as much!

Prompts which inspired these headcannons: Here!

Trigger Warning: Bullying.

Tears of Themis: The boys reacting to MC getting bullied:

Marius von Hagen:

“Is it okay to hug you?” Marius whispered in a teary voice, hands shaking as he extended them toward you. You weakly shook your head in denial again.

Marius was at the brink of madness. It all started a few weeks ago, when the youth first noticed small signs of discomfort in your behavior. Your phone almost never ceased to ring and beep, even outside of work hours. Each time you hesitantly glanced at the screen, the color would drain from your face and your lips would tremble.

You first claimed it was a difficult case you were in charge of; one which was causing you too much stress. Marius did not believe you, not when your eyes appeared bloodshot every morning he came to pick you up, nor when you harshly flinched each time a stranger came too close to you.

Something was wrong, but Marius wasn't too worried. All he needed was a name, and the problem would be solved in a few hours.

And yet, you refused. You sat down in front of him and kept your mouth tightly shut. Marius asked for the person's name, profession, age, anything, calmly at first then more desperately as time ticked by. But you didn't budge. Not when Marius begged you, and not when traces of anger began to appear at his face.

Only when silence dominated the room, and you glanced up to see your lover crying, that you finally crumbled.

The man was a member of the Pax Group's board of directors. You told Marius as he held you between his arms. You didn't know what he wanted, only that he kept pushing you over the edge, hoping that you would do something to ruin your partner's reputation and start a scandal.

“Just look at me. Forget everything else.” Marius' arms tightened around your waist and you closed your eyes in relief. You didn't see the sinister look on your lover's eyes in that moment, a look that promised vengeance for touching his most precious person.

Artem Wing:

Artem's face was calm. His eyes, gentle and familiar, gazed at you lovingly from across the office desk even after he pushed the most hideous of legal papers toward you.

You stood there speechless, re-reading the papers in you hands for what felt like the millionth time already. The papers seemed formally neutral, written in your lover's usual objective and highly professional style. But the words themselves spewed hatred at and promised vengeance in the most subtle way possible to the client who has been harassing you for the past few weeks.

You shook your head helplessly as you felt tears of relief gathering behind your eyelids. Your nightmare was finally going to be over.

You never told Artem. You hid the countless messages, threatening phone calls, and perverted letters arriving at your house from him. Of course you trusted Artem. He was your reliable superior and mentor, tender lover and soon to be husband, but you knew how important this client was to the firm.

You knew how happy Celestine and Artem were when this high-ranked politician drafted a contract with your firm, promising a steadfast support. The chance everyone was waiting for was finally here. The firm would be able to expand much further, more workers could be hired, and better wages would be available.

But one word from you could make everything crumble.

So you held your tongue and did your best to hide your discomfort and pain.

Now, as Artem held you between his arms as you began to sob your heart out, you finally felt at ease. "It's okay," Artem's gentle voice echoed near your ear, "You don’t have to be strong all the time. I can fight for you once in a while.”

Vyn Richter:

“Seeing you like this and not being able to help – it breaks my heart.”

The words were gently whispered in Vyn's calm voice. The cup of tea in your hand was warm, with white petals swimming at the bottom. The sunlight was bathing the living room in its gentle rays. A quiet melody could be heard in the background.

A sole tear escaped your eye. You put down the cup and slowly walked toward your lover. His arms were already open for you.

Vyn knew. He knew you were being harassed. He knew the culprit, a middle-aged woman whose son you defended in court a while back, and he knew how much she blamed you for her son's imprisonment.

But Vyn was unable to act. You refused his offer to report her on your behalf and you did not attempt to solve this issue by yourself. You were trying to accept the mother's grief and sorrow, hoping that would make her feel better. What good imprisoning her would do? you weakly told him.

Vyn was aware of all of this, and try as he might, he was unable to go against your wishes.

But things went too far. You no longer smiled freely as you used to do. Your rest and comfort were always interrupted by endless streams of calls and messages, pushing you further and further toward the edge. You were losing yourself.

You hid it all from him to the best of your abilities. But Vyn was as relentless as you. He was always there, distracting you from the pain for as long as he could, offering warm cup of teas, delicious dessert, and tender hugs whenever you got home.

But Vyn wanted you to heal, even against your wishes. He wanted you to put yourself as a priority above everyone and everything else. All you have to do was be happy. He can shoulder your guilt in your stead.

Luke Pearce:

“Hey, listen to me. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.” You nodded at your lover's tender words and buried your face deeper into the crook of his neck. The nightmare was almost over.

When the bullying and harassment first began, a few weeks ago, you calmly accepted it all and hid everything from Luke.

Oh, sweet, sweet Luke. If he ever knew the culprits, the two young men will disappear before a day goes by. But you didn't want that. You had a case to build, and allowing yourself to be their victim would only solidify your claims in court.

So you concealed it. You shoved the twisted letters at the bottom of your underwear drawer, and shut off your phone whenever your lover was around. Everything was calculated. All but the weight of all the venom spewed by the two men which, despite all of your effort, started to take its toll on your mental health.

Your temper started to get worse and your mood swings escalated. You felt suffocated. You had to endure it all without telling anyone until sufficient evidence was gathered and a court session was established. You had to do it. Not only for your own sake, but for the sake of all of the young women before you, who were harassed endlessly by these two monsters in human skin.

But all along, you have underestimated Luke. He wasn't just someone close to you. He was family. He was a soulmate. He was everything to you.

Luke understood what you wanted to do. He waited for you.

So the night where every proof was collected and all was settled, you found him waiting for you, arms open with a tender smile in tow. No words were spoken between you as you bathed in the warmth of Luke's unconditional love and affection.

[andsheloved]

hello my love happy drabble day im so happy you’re bringing them back and you’re settled 🥰 I NEARLY MISSED IT but lucky i check your blog nearly every day oops

ok so i have a silly little request: a while ago you wrote a piece where loki calls reader an assortment of pet names to see which ones they like i literally never stop thinking about this drabble it’s one of my favorites i’ve ever read and i was wondering if you’d write a sweet lil drabble about the other way around? which pet names would loki like to be called? 🥰🥰🥰 EEK

as usual pls don’t feel pressured to write this if it doesn’t inspire you but if you do choose to write it, take all the time you need (i know late like im less than an hour away from the end of drabble day SORRY) love you take care of yourself first always mwah mwah mwah

oh my gosh mia my dear hello i've missed you!!! and oh my gosh... one of my first drabbles... i cry oh my goodness that makes me so happy you liked it so much!! bUT YES OF COURSE I CAN oh my goodness this concept is so chefs kiss, i just think that pet names :') i sob. anyways!! i hope you enjoy this my love!! thank you for always being so patient and kind with me ily mwauh

pairing ~ loki x gn!reader

word count ~ 541

warnings ~ fluff!!, flustered loki, pre-established relationship, immense amounts of pet names, allusion to reader being shorter than loki

In an instant, his face had completely fallen, reverting into a still, blank expression as he stood frozen in the kitchen. You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him as you turned, doing your best to conceal your own growing smirk as you busied yourself by searching mindlessly through the cabinet in front of you.

You could hear him clear his throat softly before taking a steadying breath.

"Can I make you some tea?" You asked again, "Dearest?"

You would be lying if you didn't feel a strange sort of heat bloom in your cheeks as you referred to him. It seemed that during the entirety of the time that he had known your name, he had almost refused to use it at all, opting to lovingly tease you with nicknames like pet, dove, or my sweet, and as much as you melted every time he spoke them to you, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd feel the same way about a name like that. He'd had so many names over the course of his lifetime, none of them as nice as the ones he so tenderly referred to you with, and you weren't sure if he'd feel so fond about earning another nickname to add to his ever growing list, but how could you know if you never tried?

You could hear his audible swallow as he finally gathered himself enough to respond, "Yes... Thank you..." He stammered.

You quickly retrieved the small box of tea bags from the upper shelf, almost running directly into his chest as you turned. "Oof" You huffed quietly, "'Scuse me" You looked up at him, his eyes squinting as he scanned your form. You tilted your head in feigned confusion, "Is everything okay, darling?" You added cheerfully, casually gliding around him as you grabbed two mugs from the counter. It felt sort of strange, referring to him as anything other than simply Loki, but it also felt right, like you were placing a little personalized piece of your heart on a name tag only he could wear.

"I'm not sure..." He mumbled, still observing you closely as you poured the boiling water into the cups.

"You seem distracted" You replied, he had to have seen how the corner of your lips twitched as you attempted to fight back the smirk that threatened to expose you.

He only hummed in response, letting out a soft sigh as you gently placed the warm mug in his waiting hands. "Thank you" He smiled.

"Enjoy the tea, my Prince." And with that, you eagerly grabbed your cup of tea, your shoulder lightly brushing against him as you swiftly sauntered into the living room without another word.

The silence was deafening as you awaited some response from him, some sort of scrambling into the room or gasp at your audacity, and as if on cue, he called your name, stumbling clumsily into the doorway. The ghost of a smile played on his lips, his eyes filled with a childlike delight as he stared back at you, his tea probably long forgotten on the counter already.

"What did you call me?" He finally asked timidly, a twinge of red creeping up his cheeks as his gaze bashfully drifted to the floor.

That one. You'd be going with that one.

okay wait, flustered loki my beloved, i am simply in love, i do love a lovesick puppy man and lovesick puppy man loki???? i'm obsessed. thank you so much for sending this in my dear!! i hope you enjoyed it!! (and i also hope you feel better!! i'm sending you lots of tea and loki snuggles for your recovery mwauh)

as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

if you'd like to read the original drabble this is sort of based on, here it is!!

want more loki? check out my masterlist!!

[v-hope]

Wineless

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: What do you do when you’re out of whiskey and there’s a fancy bottle of wine lying around, which belongs to your girlfriend who just so happens to be out of town? You drink it. And then replace it before she gets back. Or well, at least you intend to, for there’s no way of replacing it when she arrives one night earlier and catches you red-handed.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol (kind of obvious but still)

A/N: Hellooo, I had this request in my ask box for a longgggg time and I had wanted to write it ever since yet never found the right timing, until last night at 2am lol. I hope you guys enjoy!

Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey.

Yoongi hummed inside his mind, tapping on the counter a couple of times as his eyes searched for the bottle of strong alcohol he could’ve sworn he had left on that very shelf three weeks ago. Or maybe it had only been half of it, now that he thought about it, for he had drunk some of the expensive liquor that same week you got it for him, when he had been struggling with one particular verse he could just not feel contented with.

Although there was also that one other time last week when he came home not feeling his best after a bad day...

He pouted, defeated eyes still searching around as realisation hit him that there was no bottle of whiskey on sight and there would apparently be no whiskey at all for him that night.

Bummer.

You wouldn’t be home until the next day and he would have a long, lonely night. Hoseok had called him a few minutes ago informing him the bridge of the song he had taken upon writing and needed to turn in by the end of the week was now needed by midnight tomorrow. So, there were only two ways to get the inspiration he so badly needed:

You.

Whiskey.

And right then, he had none of them.

Or well, maybe not precisely, but he could always use some variety, right? So he thought when his eyes fell on the fancy bottle of wine your mum had gifted you when you got the promotion you had so determinedly worked for — the one that had now taken you on a one week business trip to Tokyo, and far away from him and your shared place.

He thought about it for a while —that being three seconds—, before his hand was grabbing it and his feet moved over to where you kept the glasses, grabbing one of them as well before he made his way over to his home studio so he could get started on the new track right away.

Now, he knew how bad it looked, even more when he knew you had been saving it for a special occasion — what special occasion exactly, he had no idea, and he was pretty sure neither did you. But, in his defense, you would be back home tomorrow evening, and that gave him a good couple of hours to drive around the city looking for the same brand —and year— of wine he had stolen from you. Come on, he wasn’t leaving you wineless, of course. He wasn’t a douche. He was just drinking it without your permission… and then replacing it so you would never notice.

Yeah, that was it. That was perfect.

Only he didn’t count on one little detail, and that was you making it home one day earlier. Not wanting to have him worry and make some time out of his busy schedule to go pick you up at the airport like you knew he would, you had decided not to tell him — never having guessed such decision would end up backfiring on both of you. On Yoongi, for he would have no way to replace the bottle before you found out, and on you, for you were now left without that fine wine you had been looking forward to drinking at some point.

“Working so late?” your sweet voice had his head snapping in your direction in a heartbeat.

And maybe if you weren’t so caught up on the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, you would’ve noticed that part of them held some kind of panic in them — turning around on his chair and rolling it ever so slightly to his right so his body would block the empty bottle from your visual range.

“B-Babe…” he stuttered, partially because of the surprise your unannounced arrival had caused him, partially because of the alcohol having already started to hit. “You didn’t, um… I didn’t know…”

“I know,” you cut him off, knowing well enough what he meant. “Sorry I didn’t let you know, but I was getting here late, as you can see, and I didn’t want you to worry about having to go get me and all that…”

Just like that, he forgot about the wine of yours he was trying to hide altogether, smiling softly and stretching his arms out for you to hold his hands — that being exactly what you did not even two seconds later, having now fully entered his studio and letting his warm hands pull you close to him.

Not really giving you a choice —and not like you would’ve chosen any different—, he pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to sit comfortably on his legs before his hands left yours so they could rest on your back instead, smiling when you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and leaning in just enough to give your lips a lingering kiss.

“I missed you” he mumbled against your lips, earning a giggle from you and another small kiss to be pressed on his mouth. “Felt so lonely without you…”

“Have you been drinking?” you teased him, both because of his sweet words and because of the way his lips held a rather familiar bitter taste to them.

Of course you would notice right away.

He chuckled, because it was either laughing it off or panicking right before the inevitable happened. And that’s exactly when your eyes fell on the already emptied bottle resting next to a glass on his desk. The one bottle of yours you had been saving and that was now long gone.

It was fair to say, your previous smile was quickly erased from your face — an upset frown taking over your factions instead.

“Tell me that isn’t the one my mum gave me last month”.

And, you see, laughing in these kind of serious situations is never the best thing to do, especially when you know your significant other is upset. But, in both his state and how nervous he was at the idea of you being mad at him, it was all he could do.

“You’re laughing?” you scoffed. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”

He shook his head no, resting his forehead on your shoulder as another chuckle escaped his mouth instead of giving you a proper answer.

“Yoong—”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he slurred.

Although inevitably feeling your heart flutter, you rolled your eyes. “You are not trying to get out of this situation with that lame ass line”.

“But you truly are so, so beautiful, baby” he nuzzled that one soft spot in your neck, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

“Yah, Yoongi. I’m serious” you called him out, placing your hands firmly on his shoulders and gently pushing him away so you could stand up.

“No, no” he stopped you by wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. “I’ll replace it”.

“That’s not the p—”

“I’ll buy you all the wine in the world if you want” he promised. “I was going to replace it to begin with. You were supposed to get here tomorrow”.

“So now it’s my fault for getting here earlier?”

“I mean,” he shrugged. “If you had let me know beforehand...”

Another scoff came out of your mouth, this time crossing your arms over your chest. “Unbelievable”.

“Please don’t…” a tired sigh escaped his mouth. “Please don’t be mad…”

You stayed silent, eyes fixed on the still half full glass next to the empty bottle as you could not help but sulk over the spilled milk, or well, the already drunk wine.

“You just—”

“Please,” he cut you off once more, this time speaking in that cute pouty tone of his you could never help but melt at. “I love you…” his words came out muffled as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t be mad... I’m sorry”.

This time, a sigh escaped your mouth. What else could you do anyway? The wine was already gone and you were left with a soft, drunken boyfriend who was really trying to make the situation better. Or well, at least trying as hard as his current state allowed him to.

“You better get me the exact same one, Min Yoongi” your threatening words didn’t match the way your face was now resting on his head, as he had buried his face in the crook of your neck by then.

“Mhm…” he breathed, eyes closed as he somehow managed to pull you even closer.

“I mean it, Yoongi” you stood your ground. “Tomorrow”.

He chuckled, planting one more kiss to the spot his mouth had been resting on before he went back up to your eye level. “Tomorrow” his lips parted into a gummy smile. “Don’t keep saving it for too long though…” he lovingly pinched your sides. “Might have to drink it on my own again”.

“Yah!” you pulled slightly away, squinting your eyes in a threatening way the he couldn’t help but find the cutest. “My wine. I will see when it’s the right time to drink it”.

“Our wedding night”.

You froze. “Huh?”

“Our wedding night, tops” he stated, and you were not sure if that was the alcohol speaking or he had really been thinking about marriage with you for a while now. “If you haven’t drunk it by then... we’re having it that night”.

A light, breathy laugh escaped your mouth. “Will we even be home that night?” you questioned, his eyes staring into the wall behind you letting you know he had not taken that into consideration. “Besides, in that case I would only get to drink half a bottle, whereas you’d technically had downed one and a half”.

“Pft,” his shoulders went slightly up. “Okay then, alcohol measuring police”.

Throwing your head back as you now let a throaty laugh out, you went back to him, running your fingers through the short strands of hair falling over his forehead and pushing them back, earning a smile and then a muffled giggle from him when you caught his bottom lip in between your longing ones.

“I will get you two bottles then” he quietly proposed when you pulled away. “One for you to share with me and one for you to get drunk on your own whenever you want”.

“Okay, okay” you giggled, not really minding the whole wine incident anymore as he pressed his lips tenderly on your cheek. “Isn’t there something you’re forgetting, though?”

His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought at your question — eyes travelling to his left and wasting no time in grabbing the glass that still contained a good amount of wine in it. “You can have what’s left”.

You rolled your eyes. The proposal, he was forgetting the proposal. And you couldn’t help but find amusement in the fact that he had been so quick to talk about your wedding night when there had never been a proposal to begin with. Bold of you to believe you would get your drunken boyfriend to talk about it, though.

Nevertheless, all that aside, you did not hesitate for even a second before you took the glass from his hand.

“Oh,” he blurted out when you were taking a small sip, a smile once again parting his lips as he suddenly seemed to remember something important. “And you just wait for the ring”.

[loversdelusions]

I got a funny is ask, how would one or more yandere mha dudes react to reader having a very specific quirk? like every time they stub their toe they let out a super sonic scream or in every month that starts with A they can teleport? idk I just think it would be hilarious and also yandere mha content 🤣😭

Random Darling: Yandere MHA

This includes: Bakugo Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shoto.

Donate me a coffee!

Thank you for all the asks. I love getting asks and responses! I am trying to finish all of them and will write them as they inspire me, not as they come. I hope you enjoy this.

Suggest more random quirks or bnha characters you want to see in part 2

______________________________________

Bakugo Katsuki

Quirk: Teleportation every 31st of the month.

He would bully the absolute fuck out of you. You will never ever EVER live this down. Not even amnesia can take this out of his memory. He would in turn destroy your self-esteem, but be sure that's not really his intention. He doesn't mind it as a side effect, though.

He thinks it's hella funny, but Bakugo isn't an idiot, he's intelligent and careful even if impulsive enough to mess up at times.

Your quirk may have been random as hell, but it was specific enough to provide a moment of escape. Of course, though, he's already calculated his words well enough to pull you down, breaking you bit by bit to make sure you're not confident enough to do much of anything. He knew it was necessary, he didn't even like doing it. After a few times, it became more out of necessity than pleasure, and it irritated him when you turned away or deflated.

It wasn't careless. It wasn't for the sake of being mean. It was all meticulous and worded in specifics, making sure you felt only safe with him. Your quirk was such a wild card! You barely know how to use it, it's basically useless! You'd better stay home, it's not worth it. So what if you left? What's out there for you anyway?

Bakugo is pretty consistent with his... style all throughout his life. He's not one to vary in his methods, just the opposite, he was a perfectionist more than an experimentalist. He's basically OCD'ing over exactly how and what to do with you, so it's really in your best interest to just follow his compulsions, his plan. Because he's not very... kind, to those who go against the script. You're his, after all.

Even when he sat and massaged creams into your abused skin, (lovingly chosen with your favourite scent in mind, though he doesn't take credit for it.) He'd brood, and sulk. Your empty eyes would glance at his deep crimson ones, deep in thought, and wonder in bitter curiosity what he was so upset about. He didn't get angry much, but even his anger that was derived from you would never be aimed at you.

Even with your dumbass quirk. Even when you stare in hatred and hiss at yourself to force your quirk to work, trying to force down your tears and the earth to open and swallow you whole. Wished he didn't distract you, wish he didn't push you down, wither your mind so you couldn't fathom using your quirk.

It didn't even cross your mind..

You couldn't help feel he won. You couldn't believe something that seemed charming when you met, turned out to debilitate you.

Specifically charmed to fuck you over.

______________________________________

Midoriya Izuku

Izuku is a bit more...underhanded with his approach.

The older Izuku gets, the more his patience dwindles, and so the less amount of time you have to hide. It's practically impossible, anyways. Massive stalker that he is, his knowledge of everything that is you is larger than your own. He knows everything about you, love. He's constantly purred to life by the mere thought of discovering something new about you.

By the time he was in his late thirties to early forties, man is less experimental and chaotic than he was when he was younger. His dogmatic nature makes him more dangerous when you're in his grasp, especially when it came to handling your quirk. Your silly little power was so cute, he didn't even try to do anything at first. It was so hilarious when you threatened to teleport away. To go straight to the police. To leave.

Oh, darling.

You truly must've been as maddeningly mad as he. He enjoyed this little game of yours. He didn't even say anything, he only watched. He watched your little smug composure when the date to use your quirk came close.

Then he let you do it. He let you leave.

You were nervous about it first. You finally managed to gather your courage and poof, you were gone. You were so happy, so joyous, so fucking clueless.

As you didn't expect, no one believed you. You started to think you were going insane. That you were delusional. How would the hero Deku even do that? Why would he even do that? That's insane. You were quickly labelled an attention whore. You became paranoid, worried that you would run into him, that he would come after you. You didn't know where he was, or if he knew anything about you. You had begun your journey to move away from Tokyo, where you were living and move back home when you decided to explain things that you couldn't say out loud to the people you love most with a letter.

The moment it left your hands you were back in his.

You didn't even escape his sights. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to tell you all about the amazing things he's planned, all the beautiful stuff he's done, all the things that he had tested you with, and the consequences of all the tests you failed when he let you leave you left. You were so funny, thinking that you'd use the adorable little quirk of yours to leave. You proved enough that you couldn't handle your own, that you were the weak, little darling he needed to protect.

Boy did he let you hear it. He laughed, and if he treated you like an idiot before, oh fuck will you now be likened to a damn child. Be ready for the dumbification to reach new heights, because even though he convinced himself that he wanted you to be happy, he wanted you to be compliant, so the both of you could live happily.

But even in his delusions, he couldn't deny that cooing lovingly at you while you cried and begged was pleasurable, and the fact that your quirk was practically useless? That hit close and made him fall in love with you even more. Now that you knew you couldn't leave, you were much less volatile.

If he'd abducted you when he was younger, he wouldn't be as 'careless'. He wouldn't depend on his reputation and control to keep you in line, and he definitely wouldn't dare let you leave even for a second. He would wait, and he would drug you. Fuck he would keep you on the brink of consciousness, drugged out of your mind and unable to move, only there to watch in your dizzy state how helpless you were. His methods would really depend on his mood, age, and quirk.

______________________________________

Todoroki Shoto

Quirk: Supersonic scream when in pain

Man isn't sure how your quirk works. Doesn't understand or want to, honestly. He thinks it's fun because you think it's fun. If you stub your toe, he'll feel a sudden jolt and a sharp pain in his head, and he'll quickly know what's going on. Shoto is more likely to choose you as a darling because your quirk is so random. If you had a stronger quirk, he'll go into his head about being like his father, and meltdown, which would cause a whole different approach to how he'd react to you.

but that's for another time.

Happily, when he realizes your quirk is just strange, he'd be way more gentle and comfortable with you. Shoto isn't the most touchy person, but you're different, he wants to be close to you, and warm you with his quirk.

He would absolutely mute down the use of his own quirk, he doesn't want you to feel bad, you know. He's not really sure what you feel about his quirk, and he desperately wants and is afraid to know. He likes being in control, and he hates not being able to compensate for you, hates not being able to predict you.

So while your quirk is comforting to him, it unnerves him just the same because of its randomness. His mood swings flip so unbelievably quick it's crazy to you, one day he's cuddling you so close you could feel the warmth drip into your bones, then that night he's breaking down in quiet cool anger with you. This unreliability makes you cautious, afraid to make the wrong move, to activate your quirk and with it his anger or irritants. It's like stepping on eggshells, the feeling of never knowing which side of him you'll get.

His quirk was a perfect representation of himself. The obsessiveness of escaping from it seems to only drag him back to becoming a caricature of himself.

Be ready to deal with his anger by exploiting your quirk. When he gets angry, it's very easy to push him into harm. He'll burn handprints and words into your skin, and will wait to hear you scream. Since you loved to show off, then that's exactly what you'll do. It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to activate your quirk. Nothing mattered when it came down to his anger.

It's hard to even know when he was angry. because he's silent. Unless your quirk activates, and even a grunt would be supersonic, and he would feel that unique pain in his ears and head. Then you'd know what's coming.

He'd freeze you down onto metal, and you would feel the freezing pain of skin on steel, and the cool look that made you stop, and stare and the words he'd so often used, daring you to move, daring you to scream, to move and fight. So he'll have an excuse to justify his violence, to prove that what he did and is doing to you, is not the same as his father.

He wasn't using you for your quirk. He's different.

[enhypia]

JW ; bestfriends to lovers

bestfriends to lovers answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: yang jungwon x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

words: roughly 1.1k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jungwon speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jungwon speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hi i'm jungwon

and i'm (y/n)

and we're bestfriends besties

okay one more time

we're bestfriends to lovers!

*they high-five

[you guys were invited here today as bestfriends turned lovers for a fun little drinking game, you guys aware of that right?]

we were

i had to convince jungwon a little bit because he's a lightweight

i am not

you can just answer the questions instead of drinking anyway

i hope you get hard ones so you get drunk

*(y/n) :P

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. should we start?]

*both nod

[how did you guys become bestfriends?]

our parents forced us, we were threatened

*they laugh

no, our parents are friends and they had this little get-together and they brought their children with

yeah, that's why we were forced to interact

it was better than listening to our parents and not relating to anything

and they got so happy seeing us interacting that we were just always brought to their hangouts

[what was your first impression of each other?]

that jungwon wouldn't hesitate to kick my ass

you weren't wrong

i know. his eyes are very expressive, and i thought he hated me the first time we met

i did

sucks to suck then cause you're dating me now

*jungwon sighs deeply

*(y/n) :O

i thought they were shy

I AM ?!@#

uh huh keep telling yourself that honey

*(y/n) !!??!?

[how about we officially start the game now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jungwon wins

*jungwon ohhhs after seeing the question

[was there a point where you wanted to end our friendship?]

why are we starting heavy already? gosh

sooo??

i'm answering. there wasn't?

WHY AREN'T YOU SURE??

becaUSE I HAD FEELINGS FOR YOU??? of course i didn't want just friendship, isn't that technically ending it? but from my understanding is end the friendship like completely cut ties off?

*interviewer nods

then no, there wasn't

*(y/n) quickly picks up the card and immediately laughs after reading the question

what? what is it

oh you better answer this cause even i don't know

[when did you start having feelings for me?]

*jungwon blushes and starts to pour a shot

yah!

i'm still answering! i just need this drink

*(y/n) laughs

i started liking you around prom....

*jungwon refuses to meet (y/n) widened eyes

that was almost 2 years ago?!@!

*jungwon ignores the claim

so you're telling me that we could've been together already two years ago ?!

*jungwon eyes widen and smirks

*(y/n) realizes their mistake

[so you already had a crush on me back then too?]

*(y/n) takes a shot sporting a blush and gives a pointed glare, then smiles innocently

i've liked you way before that darling, you just didn't notice

*jungwon.exe has stopped working

okay! next question

[have you ever been jealous of anyone who hit up on me?]

oh god, you wouldn't believe how much time i wasted constantly reminding myself that i have no right to be jealous

*jungwon laughs

what do they even see in you ugh

*he rolls his eyes

you're literally dating me

and what about it??

*jungwon :P

[have YOU ever been jealous of anyone who hit up on me?]

no why would i be?

damn thought for sure the reason you distanced yourself from me when-

*he clamps his hand on (y/n) mouth

we do not speak their name

*(y/n) laughs and pushes jungwon's hand off their face then picks up a card

[question for both: was it scary falling for your bestfriend]

*both share a look and takes a shot

it was terrifying. because you're risking this once in a lifetime friendship and bond you know? that's why i tried really hard to suppress what i was feeling because i couldn't stand the idea of loosing all those just because i liked the person.

*jungwon takes a shot making (y/n) laugh

it was super scary since we've been beside each other for years and i'd rather deal with the unrequited love?? because not having them by my side would be more painful than that

*(y/n) drinks

*both giggle because they're getting tipsy by drinking even though they still answer the question

[who confessed first? how did you guys get together?]

i confessed first. my parents were thinking of moving and i was panicking because i'd have to leave everything behind and in my head i didn't want to leave without jungwon knowing what i felt for him, so i just went 'fuck it, i wont see him again anytime soon anyway' and confessed.

and then they RAN straight home right after, i couldn't even reply??

I WAS SCARED GIVE ME A BREAK

yeah but they forgot that i literally have a key to their house, so i just went there and confessed as well.

and it turns out, we weren't moving, so tada, here we are

we got together after like a week since the confession

jungwon got jealous of-

*he puts a finger to (y/n) mouth to shush them

no❤️

*(y/n) chuckles

what's important is that i love you, you're mine and i am yours, period.

*(y/n).exe is malfunctioning because of jungwon's boldness and drinks

sorry, he gets more straightforward when intoxicated

im intoxicated, not drunk, so my words are true

*(y/n) can't fight the heavy blush appearing on their face

i swear if you don't shut off i will fight you

no you can't, you love me

*(y/n) deadpans and suddenly stares at jungwon lovingly

*pokemon jungwon is paralyzed!

i do, i love you so much.

*he squeaks and tries to hide the blush on his face

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

[last question, how does it feel being in a relationship with your bestfriend?]

it's amazing and kind of scary actually, jungwon knows me so well, and too well, so i can't escape anything from him. whenever i don't feel the best he just knows already without me saying anything. i'm thankful honestly, because he's always there ever since, the bonus now is just i get unlimited kisses and affection

*jungwon rolls his eyes

it's,,, comfortable ?? it's like the safety and comfort home brings. i just feel so understood and loved, sometimes i wonder if i really deserve all these but like (y/n), i'm just grateful that i have them with me.

*everyone in the room aww'ed making them laugh

*jungwon and (y/n) takes one last shot and waved to the camera

and CUT!

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments

a/n: im so hapi that the series masterlist is getting notes huhu tysm <33 i hope you like this one, ive always imagined jungwon as someone who flusters people but you can easily fluster him back, esp if you're his s/o, i'll try to create the rest of the members' as quickly as i can :>>