#i imagine half of the tears he cries are ones of frustration/anger

[spaghettiandart]

miscellaneous fnaf art

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Some angst and spoilers

(Somewhat continuation of the parenting jinx w/silco reader)

But reader dies instead of silco at jinx's tea party

I imagine silco finding a way to break out of the chair try to save reader😭

Avoiding Death| Silco

note: why did this go to sad, to crackfic, to like wholesome? Also. Kinda not proud of this one but up. Here ig

Warnings: death of a loved one, all over the place,

reader: Female

Here's the Dump ♡♡ Arcane Masterlist

"You wouldn't lie to me...would you?" Jinx questioned tears building up in her eyes.

"No. Jinx! I love you! Please! Please let's just go home!" Y/n pleaded, "Everything we did we did it for you!"

"Powder she's lying! She used you!" Vi shouted.

"Her name is Jinx!" Silco argued towards Vi, "Jinx! Listen to you're a mother!"

"Powder! Please!" Vi pleaded, "Listen to me! Remember Vander! Remembering Milo! Little man!-"

"No, no, no, no!" Jinx pleaded, "No! Please!-"

"Stop it!" Y/n argued, "You're sending her down a hole. Stop it! Jinx! Jinx baby look at me! Please! You're our daughter! You're my daughter! I love you!"

"Please! Please Just stop!" Jinx pleaded.

"Jinx! Please! Jinx Look at me!" Y/n pleaded, "Please! Jinx! Just look at me!"

"Everyone shut up!" Jinx shouted lifting up her turent gun, "Everyone shut the hell up now!"

Bullet shells hit the floor at a fast pace, everyone bracing at the loud sound of gunfire. Jinx with closed eyes of frustration and anger as she cried, stress-relieved at the sound of gunfire.

Panting heavily she opened her eyes.

"No. No. No. No!"

Jinx looked around, everyone seemingly alive.Y/n coughed roughly, bloody splattering onto the white table cloth.

"Oh, no....no...no. no.no!" Jinx ran over to Y/n.

"No! Please! please no!" She begged to turn the chair around as she dropped to her knees, "no no no! Not you please!"

"Jinx..jinx look at me..." she spoke softly "if you're not who you want to be...why be anyone at all? Just...be you..."

"No. No no! Y/n!" Jinx pleaded, "please! Please! Mom, I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! Please!"

There was the snapping of ropes from being cut. However Silco did it wasn't the point, he rushed over, Jinx looking back at him, tears in her eyes as they fell down her face.

"I didn't. I didn't mean it!" She pleaded, he quickly held her head up.

"Y/n! Y/n!" He called.

"Please! I didn't mean it!" Jinx pleaded.

"Go home, Jinx," Silco demanded, cutting the ropes that kept Y/n confined to a chair with a small pocket knife he had on hand.

"Please!-"

"Go home!" He shouted, "Now!"

Jinx quickly got up and ran off.

Silco picked Y/n up, and within minutes he was running with her in his arms. Was she gone? Was she breathing?

What was happening?

With a hard kick, Silco kicked in the door to Singed's lab.

"Save her!" Silco demanded the man looking up from his beakers of elixirs.

"Put her down," Singed told calmly, Silco setting her on the all to the familiar table as Singed walked over, lowering his head to her chest.

"I give her a .5 survival rate." Singed spoke, "but I should make do with that-"

"Save her! Now!"

"Very well," SInged spoke grabbing a syringe on his desk, "This will be for your own-"

He caught Singed by the wrist, "Help her now."

"Very well," Singed spoke, "I warned you."

It was a labor-intensive process that stayed quiet most of the time, SInged pulling her from the flat line multiple times. He pulled bullet after bullet from her body, hands covered in her blood after an hour and a half of work.

"Nineteen bullets," Singed spoke, "You should thank a higher being for her life."

"When will she wake up."

"That will depend on her."

"So, you've finally kicked the bucket."

Y/n opened her eyes slowly, the light above her not blinding yet not dim. She sat up with a groan, beside her a teen sat, she looked around seeing she sat on a bench.

"Do I know you?" She questioned holding her side.

"You know Powder."

"Ah, Jinx." She spoke leaning back, "Yeah. I know her why does it matter to you?"

"I use do runs with her"

Y/n spoke with a sigh, "Jinx is a good kid, real good. I'm gonna miss her."

"She shot you. like a ridiculous amount of times"

Y/n shrugged, "Doesn't make her any less of my daughter, that one, she's been through a lot."

"We all have it doesn't make her different-And you're other kid anyways?"

Y/n looked back at the teen beside her, "Jinx won't let him go, I know it, she's been a good sister to him."

Y/n stood up with a groan, "Know how to get out of here by any chance."

"Go to the left." He spoke Y/n giving him a small playful salute as she made her way to the left.

"She's just a jinx!" the teen called out, Y/n turning her head back to him.

"Yeah," Y/n spoke, "She may be a jinx- yeah, she is, it's just what separates her from everyone else, it makes her who she is. I guess that just makes her my Jinx and no one else's, I'm pretty proud to call her my Jinx anyways."

Y/n turned her way back to the left, making her way forward, holding her side as she continued forward.

Y/n opened her eyes, the light above her blinding her, even if a layer of white covered her eyes.

"Ugh...fuck me..." She complained sitting up and pulling the sheet off her face, "What the fuck man..."

Holding her side painfully she leaned on one arm to keep her up. There were similar beds to her, not that you could really call them beds, more of old rusted guernies, each one covered with a white sheet.

"Fuck this..." She complained, pulling her feet off the bed as they hovered over the cold ground, her shoes had been removed, her pants still left on but her top had been removed, it replaced with a white tank top.

She let her feet touch the ground, she getting up and feeling wobbly as she did, hand braced against the nearby wall for support. She walked her way over weakly, crumbling under her own weight as she held herself on the wall. Reaching the doorway eventually she leaned up against the frame, turning the knob and pushing the door open Singed turned his head.

"Well, it only took you 5 days of death to get up." He spoke.

"Fuck you," Y/n grumbled, walking along the wall using it as support looking around, "Have I really been out for five days?"

"Well, out implies coma, sleep, You were dead for five days," he spoke, "I told him you weren't going to make it. I believed it as well."

"Mhm," Y/n spoke, "Yet you stand there looking at me like I've just not been dead for the past five days."

"I don't question the things you pull yourself from anymore, shall we go down the list?"

"Nevermind.." Y/n spoke, making it to the lab counter, "What's happened since I've been gone."

"Nothing, not to my surprise, you are the only one that ever gets shit done," Singed told her.

"How's Jinx."

"I don't know she's your kid."

"I've been dead for five days you said it yourself you fuckin idiot." Y/n argued, "How are we even related, I obviously have a brain and you don't"

It was silent for a moment, "Is Silco still in charge."

"Please if I hear or see that man once more I'll kill him." Singed demanded, "He was here earlier, left about an hour before you decided living was on your agenda again. I told him you were in a Coma."

"I'll be back later," Y/n spoke standing up and groaning.

"Good luck walking there." Singed spoke Y/n rolling her eyes as she slowly made her way towards the door to leave, "Good to see you didn't die."

Y/n looked back at him, "Glad to be back."

Y/n made her way through the streets of Zaun, freezing her ass off completely but, no less walking towards the last drop. Making the way up the steps she could hear the music and loud arguing and laughing that made her ears bleed.

Pushing open both doors as harsh as she could she looked like death had just stared her in the face, and was scared of her. It grew silent, the only thing being heard was the music, which was even turned down at the sight of her.

"isn't that the boss's chick?"

"I thought she died."

"She looks like she died."

Making her way towards the bar she leaned up against the wooden bar top.

"Anything. Please." Y/n spoke, "No ice. Thanks."

The crowd had slowly started up again, just for it to grow quiet once more at the sound of shouting upstairs. Silco seemingly arguing with someone about a job. Y/n turned the seat she was sitting him, glass put in her hand as she looked at the steps, out came Sevika who had a scowl on her face.

She came down the stairs angrily as it grew quiet.

"Ciao," Y/n spoke up catching the woman's attention, waving some fingers in a manner of saying hello, "Still trying to get closure than you should?"

Y/n smirked at her, sipping her drink out of a small straw.

"Good your not dead, you go deal with him."

Y/n shrugged, getting up, taking the straw out as she downed the drink, grabbing someone's jug on the way, a hand holding her side as she stood in front of Sevika, "Sweetheart I did die, actually. Five days I was gone- the world just must love me right?"

Y/n made her way up the steps, drinking a hefty swig every few steps until she made it up the steps and to the door. She opened the door without knocking.

"What." Silco snarled, turning his chair around as Y/n raised her eyebrow in response.

"Wow, and after five days of me literally being dead I thought you'd miss me. Where's Jinx? She'll miss me."

He was silent, words stuck, she-but- how

"You're..." He started standing up.

"Alive? I know, kind of boring, was hoping for a change of scenery after all. But then I did, you know- kick the bucket-for five days apparently too; the afterlife is just not as grand as you'd think it'd be." Y/n told him walking in the door closing behind her and setting the jug on the table, "It just...a bench. Like seriously, it's just a bench; thought it would be more like the heaven and hell thing kinda was looking forward to the hot water in hell-"

She stopped rambling feeling his hand caresses her face, almost to check if she was real.

"You idiot!" he scolded grabbing the bridge of her nose causing her to complain as he dropped it, she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"What the hell!"

"I thought you were dead! Completely dead!" He shouted.

"Oh come on! Did you think I really kick over that easy! Have you met me!" She argued.

"Nineteen times! You were shot nineteen times!"

"Well, she could have made it one more to even it out!"

He leaned back against his desk a hand rubbing over his eyes as it grew silent.

"I'm okay." Y/n protested, walking over to him " Really I am."

"Do you understand how many times you flat-lined, that you died?" He argued.

"Well I know One, and for five days, that's gotta be a record right?"

He glared at her as she sighed, "Look, I'm sorry."

Y/n pulled his hand from his face, "Look at me."

He glanced at her, with a small soft smile on her face, "I'm here, aren't I? I know I scared you, and made you sad, I hope at least- that's not the point- look- I don't know how, I don't know why I just pull out of things easy, as soon as I woke up I came here."

Arms wrapped around her as she smiled, her arms wrapping around him, his hand grazing some stitches, "Ah- Okay! I am still injured though!"

He pulled his hands away as she chuckled a way to distract her from the pain, "I'll be okay,"

He only returned to caressing her face in silence, it was unreal to him, one that she was alive and two that she was walking already.

"Where's Jinx?" Y/n questioned, Silco sighed.

"She won't leave Alto's room, and if he does go anywhere, she stays by him. She won't let anyone near him." Silco responded, "I tried to talk to her, she won't talk with anybody."

Y/n nodded resting her head against Silco's shoulder, her eyes focused up at him, his head falling onto hers, it was true he was scared; everything had piled up so quickly, JInx's break down, Y/n's going down, the idea of not having Y/n, having to raise a kid all by himself, Y/n had at least been there to help raise Jinx from a young age.

And when Jinx saw Y/n again? It was another mental breakdown in relief, she crumbling in Y/n's weak arms as she thought she had taken another important life. Alto was only told Y/n had been hurt and was in the hospital, he was glad that his mother was safe and alive, he's picked up and brought into the group hug.

"I'm so sorry." Jinx apologized crying in Y/n's arms.

"Don't be. I'm here aren't I?" Y/n spoke kissing her head, "I won't leave you none of us will."

"I love you so much mom," Jinx spoke her head barrier into Y/n's neck muffling her speech.

"I love you to baby girl." Y/n told her, "I love you too."

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

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an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[lovelybarnes]

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

-

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Fearing You, Loving You | Part 1

Sequel to I'm Yours, You're Mine

Genre: Smut

Warnings: yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!reader, lactation kink, tit fucking, degradation. 

“Just fucking feed.” You shout at the baby in your arms who refuses to suckle anymore. Your breasts had become so overfilled lately, it was painful, and the damned baby refused to feed more than a little here and there, leaving you frustrated and in pain.  

Felix quickly steps up to where you were sitting on the bed and takes the baby away from you, a look of concern on his face as if he’s worried you’ll hurt the baby which is fucking rich coming from him.

Swinging the girl in his arms, he tries to lull her to sleep. “Calm down, noona.”

Anger surges up inside you at his words, and you whisper at him harshly, careful to keep your voice down so the damned child would go to sleep. “Calm down? Why don’t you try having breasts fucking bursting with milk that that stupid baby won’t drink, huh? But I guess I shouldn’t expect any sympathy from you. You did this to me!”

You notice his face flush and he turns away from you, putting the baby in her bassinet, and you think he’s embarrassed for being called out. Boy, were you wrong. You shouldn’t have assumed that he has any shame.

Felix comes over to join you in the bed, getting on top of you and pushing you so you’d lie down on your back then he lifts your shirt up. You let him do what he wants, by now having learned that it’s better not to resist. He cups your breasts gently, moving and pressing on them experimentally until some milk seeps out of your nipples. He gasps when he sees the white liquid, mouth opening and eyes becoming half-lidded. 

“Felix?” You ask, sure you were imagining things. But then he bends down and laps up the milk with his tongue. “Felix, what are you doing?!” 

He looks up at you from over your chest, eyes completely hazy now. “Let me take the pain away, noona.” 

“Wha--” Your question gets cut off as Felix latches onto one of your nipples and sucks, drawing the milk out of your breast. You squirm under him but he holds you tight, not letting you pull away, and soon, you begin to feel a little relief, the breast he is sucking on not quite so painfully overfilled anymore. And a little later, it’s not just relief you feel, but arousal. 

It’s been a long time since Felix touched you. First you were getting too big and it was becoming painful and you had persuaded him that it could harm the baby, and after you’d given birth the doctor recommended that you not have sex for six weeks, a piece of advice you clung to and greatly welcomed. 

But to your surprise and mortification, the deprivation wasn’t just getting to Felix but to you too. Especially that he would jerk himself off almost every night, right in front of you as he got off to the sight of your round belly and your swollen breasts, moaning and whimpering about how he can’t wait to fuck you again, for you to fuck him again. 

You couldn’t admit to him that you were feeling needy too. Neither could you touch yourself discreetly because he was always with you. So now, with the first contact in months, you can’t help getting wet. 

Felix seemed to be enjoying it a lot too as you feel his hips start to move against your thigh as he lets out little groans of appreciation between pulling and sucking on your nipple. 

You’re the one to push him to the other breast, needing it to be milked too so it would stop hurting and Felix gladly obliges, suckling on it eagerly as he humps your leg. 

Tangling your hand in his messy hair, you make him look at you. “Fucking pervert. Are you getting off on this?” 

Your glistening nipple falls out of his mouth as he moans and bucks his hips particularly hard against you, happy you’re finally giving him attention. “I’m just trying to help, noona.” He whimpers, pulling back slightly and squeezing your breast, groaning as more milk leaks out. “I did this to you.” He repeats your earlier words but it comes out as more of prideful and awed proclamation than a guilty one. He loves that he made you this way. 

“I want to keep you like this forever.” Pulling back, he spreads your legs and pushes your panties to the side. “I should knock you up again.” 

Alarmed, you slap him, “No!” 

You immediately realize your mistake and flinch back, preparing for his retaliation, but to your surprise he just whimpers and stares at you expectantly. Quickly gathering your wits, you understand what is happening. He wants you to take control. He’s been craving it for months, but he just wasn’t confident in giving you back control yet. But now that the baby is born, he must feel so much more secure. 

To test your theory, you slap him again on the same cheek. “Bad boy!” 

“Mommy…” Felix whimpers, trying to get closer to you again, the new title he'd given you since your pregnancy lewd on his tongue. “Fuck me, mommy.” 

“You think I’ll let your dick anywhere near me after all you did to me?” 

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure we’d be together. I love you.” 

"Shut up, you selfish slut." You pull him up by his hair until he's straddling just below your chest. Grabbing his dick, you start pumping it. "The only thing you care about is getting your rocks off. You don't care about me."

"I care! I love you!" He bucks into your hold, mouth falling open. "Just needed you to see."

You let go of his dick and he whines at the loss and thrusts into the empty air, his dick almost touching your face. You slap his dick and he winces and stops moving. 

"Since you like my tits so much, why don't you fuck them?" You tell him, holding your breasts together. "Wanna fuck mommy's tits, dirty boy?"

He nods eagerly and pushes his dick between your breasts. He tries to hold onto them to steady himself but you smack his hands away. "Hands behind your back, slut." 

He obeys, and although he finds it difficult to stabilize himself, he does his best, thrusting his dick between your breasts. He’s fractic about it, the deprivation getting to his head and the sight of his dick disappearing between your tits pushing him to the edge fast. 

“You like it, baby?” 

“Yes, mommy. Thank you.” He cries, his thrusts getting sloppy, and you know he’s close. But just before he can cum, you let your breasts go and grab the base of his dick tightly, cutting off his orgasm. 

He whines loudly and tries to thrust into your closed fist but your grip is way too tight. "Mommy, don't tease please. It's been too long."

“I’ll do what I fucking please. You’re mine, aren’t you?” You say ominously, reminding him of his promise to you before your pregnancy. 

He lets out little sobs as the high leaves his body, but he doesn’t protest anymore. “Yes, mommy. All yours.” 

When he calms down, you order him to fuck your tits again. And once again, you staunch off his orgasm right before he explodes. Then you wait until he’s away from the edge and repeat the whole process over and over again until he's shaking and crying above you.

“M-mommy---ahhh----p-please let me c-cum. Mommy, please!” Tears stream down his face as he struggles to stay seated over you even though you’ve let him use his hands to anchor himself by now.  

“Wanna cum, baby?” You murmur, lightly tracing your thumb over his wet, red dick. 

He nods his head violently. “Please, please, please.” 

You grab one of your breasts with your free hand and rub the nipple over his weeping slit. Felix takes in a sharp breath as he watches you rub your engorged nipple against the head of his dick. Smirking up at him, you squeeze your breast a little, letting some of the milk leak drip down his cock. 

"Fuck!" Felix shouts, cum dribbling out of his dick like your milk. He thrusts against your breast but your grip on his cock doesn’t really allow him to get much stimulation, and he starts wailing, frustrated out of his mind from the maddening pleasure that was enough to make him cum but not enough to give him the satisfaction he craved. 

His cries wake up the baby, but he barely notices, tearfully begging you to give him a proper orgasm. “Please... stroke my dick, noona---ngh---just o-once or twice. Ah---T-that’s all I need. P-please.” 

But you just push him off, wiping your hands on the sheets.  "You already came. You're not cumming again today and certainly not in mommy's pussy."

“But m-mommy--” He tries to cling onto you but you push him away resolutely. “Go put the baby to sleep. You woke her up.”

_________________

A/N: lol let me know if you want more IYYM drabbles or if I should write something new. in any case give me ideas for either cuz I’m feeling uninspired  

[writemekpop]

Sexual Healing | Lee Jeno

Pairing: Lee Jeno x Reader

Summary: Your mafia boyfriend Jeno is upset after a failed mission, and he takes his sexual frustrations out on you.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst angst so much angst

Word count: 1.4k

Warning: Sexual Content, Mentions of PTSD

Gif: @jenoltd

Jeno turns to you in bed, eyes burning. “I should have saved her!” he cries. 

You stroke his hair, still half-asleep. “You're okay, baby,” you whisper. “It’s just a dream.”

Jeno’s naked chest rises and falls quickly. His forehead glistens with sweat. 

Ever since the… incident, your boyfriend Jeno hasn't been the same. 

It was a simple operation: sneak in at night, burn the CEO’s office down. Easy, for a trained mafia assassin like Jeno. 

By the time he realised the CEO’s 3-year-old daughter was inside that office, it was too late to save her life.

You press your lips against the base of Jeno’s throat. His eyes fall closed, as if he’s trying to shut out the memories. His pulse is skyrocketing - you can feel it hammering against your lips. 

“It’s just a nightmare,” you mumble into his skin. 

You feel Jeno tense. He springs out of bed, tense as a board. “It’s not just a fucking nightmare,” he spits. “It’s my fault she died. This… this is punishment!”

You sigh, nursing your bruised ego. You’ve been having this argument every night for a month. “You tried your best, babe... it's not your fault."

Jeno stares at you with dark, wild eyes. “What do you know? You're just a fucking hairdresser!" 

You wince. 

Jeno is shaking, trying to keep his anger in. You can see the faded burn mark on his hip that slips into his boxers – the reminder of his failure. 

You know Jeno doesn’t mean to lash out. It’s just his… illness. But his blows still hurt. 

Your voice is hoarse. “Come back to bed.” 

Jeno tugs his hair so hard you imagine it coming out in tufts. “No.” he says. “If I sleep… I’ll remember. She was just a toddler. She didn’t deserve to die.”

The same age as Zoya, you thought. But you didn’t say that out loud. 

Jeno hasn’t been able to look at his own daughter since that night. 

He’s been ignoring Zoya, and you too - staying out late, drinking. Your daughter is a reminder of that innocent little girl he left to die.

Jeno storms out onto the balcony of your bedroom. 

You jump out of bed and follow him outside. 

Goosebumps run up your exposed skin – from cold or from fear, you can’t tell. Don’t jump, please don’t jump. Your mouth is too dry for words.

Jeno is looking out at the night sky, fists clenched tight on the railing. 

 "It was fun at first… the money, the respect, the thrill of it all… But now… I can't fucking sleep!"

“Jeno, what you’re experiencing… isn’t right. I think you may have PTSD.”  

Jeno snaps his head to look at you, hurt written all over his face. “I’m not crazy,” he spits. 

“I know,” you squeeze his arm. “But I think you need to get some help.”

Jeno yanks you towards him. His dark eyes rake down your body. “No, you - you can help me forget!"

Jeno spins you round so that your back is pressed against the railing. 

He grabs your face and kisses you roughly. His hips dig into yours, just a little too hard for comfort. 

With his mouth pressed against yours, he tugs at the straps of your night dress.

The railing digs into your back, the cool metal stinging your exposed skin. 

You feel Jeno pushing every dark feeling through his lips and into yours. You turn your head to the side to escape his harsh kiss. Jeno latches onto your neck, sucking and biting your skin. 

You catch sight of the starless black sky, and your head starts to spin. 

His fingers grip your arms tight, locking you in place. His nails dig into your skin – harder and harder, till it begins to sting. 

“Jeno, stop it. You’re hurting me!”

You shove his chest off you, as hard as you can. 

The force of the push snaps Jeno out of the trance he was locked in. 

He looks at you - with your lips chapped, your neck bruised, and your night dress pulled down to your waist. 

His face contorts in anguish. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

He storms back inside the bedroom. He slams the balcony door so hard that the sound bounces off the glassy apartments of your housing complex.   

You pull the straps of your dress back onto your shoulders and follow him inside. 

Suddenly, a child's crying rings though the apartment.

“Great,” you snap. “You’ve woken Zoya up.”

You turn to Jeno, itching for a fight about who’s turn it is to tend to her, but when you see him, you’re shocked. 

He’s crouching on the ground, trembling. His head is hung low, and both of his hands are smashed against his ears. 

“Make her stop!” he whimpers. “The crying… it’s too much!”

Your mouth drops open at the sight of your boyfriend so broken. Of course -  Zoya's crying reminds him of the girl who died. 

You suck in a breath and run into your daughter’s bedroom. You don’t want to leave Jeno, but you have no choice. After all, Zoya is the most important. That’s what being a parent is.

It takes you an hour, but Zoya eventually settles back to sleep.  

You close her bedroom door gently. You’re scared to go back to the room you share with Jeno. Scared to see what you’ll find there. What if he hurts himself? What if he... hurts you? 

When you push open the bedroom door, you realise the situation is much, much worse than that. 

Jeno sitting on the bed, fully clothed, black DMs laced up tight. A packed suitcase next to him on the floor.

You gasp. 

You’ve stuck together through everything: your miscarriage, Jeno’s parents’ divorce, back when you were so in debt you had to crash together in the hairdressing salon… 

“What are you doing?” Your voice sounds alien. 

Jeno gulps. At least he has the decency to look guilty.

“I can’t be here, Y/n.” he whispers, eyes locked on the ground. “This apartment… Zoya… my job. It’s all too much.”  

You glare at him. “You can’t leave. Only a coward would leave!”

“You and Zoya deserve better than me. I’m not strong. I’m… I’m broken.”

You crouch in front of Jeno and lace your fingers with his. “I don’t need you to be strong… I need you to be here.”

Jeno closes his eyes. The tears fall silently down his cheeks. “If my father saw me like this… he’d be so disappointed. I can almost see him now: "Jeno, I expected better." I was never good enough, was I?”

You rack your brains for the words that will get him to stay. 

“R-remember that nice doctor from the support group… Doctor Singh? The one who had the nice office with the Japanese maple?”

Jeno nods once. 

“She- she specialises in… what you’re going through. And she’s not the type to ask any questions. We can make an appointment with her tomorrow. Jeno, she can help you get better. You have try – for me, for Zoya, for yourself.” 

Jeno pulls you up gently from the ground. You sit on the bed beside him. 

He rests his head on your shoulder. “You deserve better than me, Y/n. You deserve it all."

You squeeze his hand. “It’s going to be o-” 

You hesitate, the words getting caught in your throat.  

Jeno’s mouth curves up a little. “Go ahead,” he says. “Lie to me, Y/n. I’ll believe anything you say tonight.”

You pause. Your voice is low. “As long as we have each other, it’s going to be okay.”

Actually, you're not lying. You know it. And Jeno knows it too. 

Jeno leans down and wriggles out of his boots without undoing the laces. He crawls under the bed covers. You follow him in and place your head on his chest. 

Thank god, he’s staying. 

You close your eyes. And finally... breathe out. 

---

MASTERLIST

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

hi! this is just a request but feel free to ignore if you don’t have time or any ideas but could you expend on “between love and lust” mc seducing foul legacy. it can be like a side story or a prequel since it happened before the current timeline.

sorry it took so long lmao law school started already and i'm drowning in cases. Thanks for this ask anon, i forgot about this series even though i already drafter the last chapter lmao, thanks for reminding me it existed hahaha. Anyways here you go, enjoy this unhinged couple lmao.

Prequel to The Consequences of Fucking in Front of the Geo Archon Statue Series: 1, 2, 3

In Love and Lust

Summary: Seeing Foul Legacy for the first time had awakened something in you, in a desperate attempt to hide how inappropriately horny you were, Tartaglia misunderstands your insatiable lust for him as fear.

--

You had always been aware that whatever happened during Tartaglia’s disappearance was life changing. You were prepared for whatever it was when you had pursued this relationship with him, just as you had reassured him you didn’t mind what his job asked of him, you were quite ready to reassure him you didn’t mind his Foul Legacy.

Seeing it for yourself however was another matter entirely.

It changed him. That much you were right.

You just weren’t prepared to see how it changed him.

So there you stood, blinking rapidly in front of your boyfriend who had laid waste to the battlefield amidst Snezhnaya’s white snow. Everything about him was big. His arms, his height,

‘His dic-’

You exhaled, trying to steady your heart and not blurt out something stupid like,

‘Bet I can take you in that form.’

You nodded, your eyes closed as you tried to convince yourself and stop your shaking legs as you took a step forward to your boyfriend’s personal space. All the while chanting inwardly for him to not notice what he just awakened in you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here” You told him, faking calm as you laugh nervously.

‘And wow, his muscles are so close and he’s so warm-’

“Is that so?” He spoke, voice deep, sultry and rumbly that it made your mouth drop and your panties wet.

His face came close to you, your wide eyes and flushed face reflecting on the large white bead on the center. His clawed hands pulled you close, resting gently on the curve of your ass.

You swallowed your saliva as you gently laid your hands on his chest, mind reeling and melting from the sheer force of your horniness for your boyfriend.

“Da-darling?” You gently called him, slight panic in your voice when you felt your warm cloak lifted and the unmistakable sound of your thick stockings being teared.

“Liar.”

In a blink of an eye you found yourself back in your shared apartment. Stockings ripped and panties soaked. Tartaglia was nowhere to be found and you swore loudly,

“At least let me suck your cock!”

You cried into your pillow with frustration as you furiously masturbated and repeatedly came with only your left hand and the vivid image of his Foul Legacy ringing in your mind. You moaned and drooled into the pillow, his lingering scent only fueling your desire and making you blind to Tartaglia’s arrival.

He watched as you fingered yourself, your legs spread wide and exposing your sopping cunt. You were moaning his name, while your free hand played with your nipples. It was a lovely sight that made him hard, it was almost enough to break his reason and make him stuff you full with his cock. Up until he remembered how scared you were earlier when you saw his foul legacy for the first time.

Instead he makes his way to the bathroom, furiously masturbating to the sounds of your moan and wet pussy echoing in the silent apartment. His hand moved up and down his throbbing cock as he imagined your squirming body as you moaned loudly, crying out his name.

He knew your go-to fantasies when masturbating to him, knew the intimate details of your deepest fantasies. So he faps to that, he imagines fucking you in that snow, ripping your clothes and exposing your pliable tits and sopping wet cunt. His cock plunging into your wet pussy, slamming it in and out and stretching it until the sensation left you drooling.

He’d gripped your tits, squeezing it and pinching its perk nipples until your moans are nothing but lewd pants of breath. He’d fuck you from behind, fucking you on all fours like a beast and biting your neck until the skin broke and he tasted blood.

He knew you’d begged for him to stop, even when you’d push your ass towards him, moving your hips in time to the thrusting of his cock. He’d fuck you until you babbled about getting pregnant, your pussy clenching to keep his dick inside. He wouldn’t stop thrusting his cock in and out of you, not even when you would orgasm.

Instead he’d fuck you harder once you told him you were about to come, hands gripping your waist tight as he controlled your body, moving it like a life sized fuck toy meant to relieve his frustrations. He knew how that thought pleases you, the image of you acting like a wanton slut in front of him, was something that never failed to drive him crazy.

His hand, gripping his cock tightened, just as he heard you orgasm from the bedroom. Your lewd voice coupled with his imagination made him cum, thick ropes of cum staining the wall as his hands slowly came to a stop.

Tartaglia sighed, taking a few moments of rest before cleaning up the bathroom. The routine was enough to calm him down, his anger and lust fading away into manageable levels. All of it quickly disappeared when he entered the room and found you passed out on the bed, legs spread wide, pussy dripping and stuffed full with the customized dildo you had made. The dildo was the exact replica of his cock and Tartaglia allowed himself a moment, a single moment of contemplation and acceptance of what being in a relationship with you entailed.

“Nnn...Tartagli..a” You moaned in your sleep.

Then he makes his way to the bathroom he had just cleaned, unzips his pants and begins to furiously masturbate again. In any other time he’d have masturbated to you right then and there, unloading his cum unto your sleeping body, maybe fucking your mouth and spilling his load down your throat but right now the two of you are in the middle of a fight and Tartaglia is petty enough to leave you horny.

--

You woke up the next morning, disappointed that neither your ready pussy nor your mouth had Tartaglia’s cum, your body wasn’t sticky from his dried cum nor was there the pleasant ache of your pussy being used to the fullest. You pout before groaning into the mattress and curling up in sexual frustration.

Tartaglia had a month off.

And you’d rather spend most of it fucking like rabbits, riding his cock, and being stuffed full with his cum. From the sounds outside your apartment window, you knew that at this time, Tartaglia was already in the training grounds.

You sighed before getting up from the bed, not bothering to cover up. You were missing the feeling of walking around the apartment with his cum dribbling down between your thighs. You made your way to the kitchen table, breakfast kept warm and no love note.

You blinked. Searching the entire area for Tartaglia’s customary love note. You frowned, sitting in a daze as you started to realize that something was very wrong.

“Oh no, we’re fighting!” You cried in despair.

You never really liked fighting with Tartaglia, the one that involved cold shoulders and no sex, no intimacy because it was always because you accidentally sent the wrong signal, made social faux pas that even he couldn’t stand and you knew that Tartaglia was the only one who could handle your crazy, your slightly dark tendencies and obsessive personality. Which meant that fights like this always made you want to fix it quickly because you didn’t want Tartaglia to sober up and realize he could do better.

Which meant that there was a need to call up your friends and dissect what you did wrong.

You glance at Tartaglia’s homemade cooking before deciding that the meeting could wait.

While you were enjoying your brunch, Tartaglia was in the training grounds beating up the new recruits and the rest of the Fatui soldiers that were brave enough to step up to fight him. He had slept terribly, missing your comforting weight in his arms and warmth of your body and your cunt warming his cock, he’d masturbated again in the shower, made you breakfast, tempted to fuck you until you woke up while getting dressed and willed his dick down before leaving the apartment.

Tartaglia really, really hated getting into a fight with you. Because it meant that the chances of you waking up and realizing that you could have a normal life were high. His flaws and demerits would outweigh whatever fondness and love you had for him, your childhood sweetheart.

He dreads the day you’d realize you can have stability, because he’d rather not resort to cutting you off from the rest of the world just to keep you by his side. He did his best to ensure you wouldn’t even entertain thoughts of breaking up with him, he catered to your wants and needs because it meant you wouldn’t try to leave. He’d raze the world to the ground if you asked as long as it meant you stayed.

He loved you deeply, darkly, and wholly.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of your familiar lovable and seductive self. And immediately decided to end the spar quickly before any of the recruits got an idea.

He covers your body with his coat, making you wear it properly and hiding the enticing look of your well-endowed body from the virgin killing sweater that you wore. You blinked at him, before you smiled sweetly and devilishly.

“Darling~” You grabbed his arm and he could feel the softness of your breast and Tartaglia knew that you weren’t wearing any bra underneath. He was also willing to bet that you didn’t wear any panties either.

“You-” his words were cut off when he saw your pout, even more so when he felt the fabric of your sweater moved, he looked down and saw that half of your areola were exposed to him.

You smiled at him sweetly, knowing that you’ve already won.

“I missed you so much~” You whined, acting pitiful and cute as you discreetly directed his hand to your lubed up and throbbing pussy.

“I prepared your lunch~” You looked at him from underneath your lashes, drawing attention to your glossed lips, colored pink, and Tartaglia gave up. In a flash, he had brought you home between one breath and the next.

And then you found yourself lying on the bed, you blinked in confusion until you found your arms tied with his jacket, the rest of the sleeves tied to the headboard and you purred in delight.

“Darling~ I’ve been such a good girl right?” You asked coyly, legs already spread and showing him your throbbing pussy, anticipating his thick and long cock fucking you stupid.

Tartaglia didn’t answer before leaving the room with agitation, you spotted his cock straining against his pants and grinned.

You were getting fucked today up until the next day. You smiled pleased at the outcome of the brainstorming you had with your friends. You were so caught up in the euphoria of your apparent success that you forgot who your opponent was. Tartaglia was a trained soldier, a genius in the battlefield and a Harbinger.

He also had the additional boon of knowing you.

Which meant that from the moment you had shown up wearing the virgin killing sweater, he knew that you were planning something. He wasn’t the type to fall for the same trick twice, you wearing the sweater that made both of you graduate from being virgins wouldn’t have the same effect on him again.

Yes, it still drove him mad but compared to the first time you had used it, Tartaglia could keep his wits with him.

So your plan of using a sex potion laced lunch fell through. Tartaglia was sure that he knew what you were planning and decided to use it for his own agenda. A quick survey of the kitchen and he was able to easily deduce where you hid the remaining stash of the potion.

He grinned once he found it and quickly made his way back to you. He whistled at the sight of you, acting like you were in heat. You fluttered your lashes at him and he grinned at you wolfishly.

“I trust that you can recognize this?” He asked as his right hand shook the bottle filled with pink liquid while his left hand deftly unbuckled his pants.

“...Oh” You gulped realizing that you were now playing in the palm of Tartaglia’s hands.

His grin grew sharp, the sight of it sending your pussy throbbing as you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Look at you, being a slut. Is my cock all you can think about?” He teased as his left hand began rubbing his dick, precum dribbling out of his head.

“I also think about your abs and your mouth” You replied, while your eyes stared at his cock, tongue peaking out of your mouth.

He wipes off his precum with his fingers and slowly wiped it on the folds of your pussy, you moaned, moving your hips up to rub against his fingers until they slipped in.

“Hngg!”

His fingers make a quick work out of you, slipping in and out, building a rhythm that had you moaning loudly, until the sound of your pussy’s squelch echoed loudly in the apartment. Your eyes were closed from the pleasure of his calloused fingers rubbing your walls, making you clench and pulsate.

“Cock-Tartagli-a” Your voice shook as you began to beg, “I need your cock inside--!”

You came loudly as his fingers curled and you squirted while his fingers didn’t stop moving inside you. Tartaglia’s fingers were drenched with your juice when he removed it from your pussy, the sheets were drenched with your squirt and you lay limply on the bed.

The top of your sweater were bunched in the middle of your breast, exposing your erect nipples to the cold air and Tartaglia’s hungry eyes. He brought the bottle on top of your twitching pussy, smiled at you and said,

“Congratulations, my beloved slut, you’ll finally be my cumdump today~”

You stared blankly as you watched him open the bottle, spreading your pussy lips and dumping the entire content of the aphrodisiac into your pussy. You struggled once you felt the foreign intrusion of the bottle’s neck, its effect was instantaneous, your protest turned into a moan as you felt your mind become clouded with pleasure.

Tartaglia watched with fascination as he saw your panic melt into euphoria, the look in your eyes was lustful and wanton as you began to loudly beg for his cock. Tears dripping from your face when he only slipped in his fingers,

“Nooo~!” You cried “Cock! I want your cock!”

Your tearful begging was all it took for him to stop teasing you and thrusting his cock inside you. There was no resistance at all from your pussy, his head went inside smoothly, hitting you all the way to your wall, you moaned in pleasure, legs automatically clamping around his waist.

Tartaglia groaned at the wonderful feeling of your heat, a night of not having your pussy warm his cock was enough to drive him insane. He was a fool to not have slept with you last night.

He kissed you fervently, drowning your moans and lustful cries while his hips moved, thrusting his cock back and forth inside your wet and hot pussy. His bare chest rubbed your sensitive nipples as his body rocked back and forth in time with his hips.

“I love you” He whispered in your ears over and over again as he fucked you senseless, like a beast while you clawed at his back, mouth drooling and eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

The aphrodisiac was affecting you both, fucking frenzily to reach new heights of pleasure. Tartaglia came inside you again and again, even so his dick didn’t turn flaccid remaining hard even after multiple orgasm until your pussy felt raw.

Adrenaline rushing to your veins made you not care, you only cared about two things, Tartaglia and his cock. Your pussy was filled to the brim, abused with Tartaglia’s thick cock that repeatedly dumped his cum on your loose pussy.

Time passed but the sounds of sex didn’t stop as day turned into night.His coat was torn and your clothes turned into rags, Tartaglia had changed your position, fucking your from behind, with your ass up, thick ropes of cum, dried and drying covered your ass and back, some of it dripping from your pussy, others coating your legs and face.

He had truly turned you into his cum dump.

“Such a good slut!” Tartaglia praised as he thrusted into you, his cock pushing out his old cum from your pussy, “so good for me!”

His praise made you so happy, your back arching to give him a better angle. You clenched on his cock as he came again, milking him of his cum.

Tartaglia slipped his cock out, shushing you gently when you whined from the empty feeling. He observed your pussy, your whole was loose enough that he could see how much cum was inside you, your clit and labias were covered with dripping cum, your asshole twitching and overflowing with his earlier cum.

He smiled, “ Looks like you can easily take my cock in foul legacy form”

“No-no! It’s too big!” You cried out in panic, covering your pussy.

Your fearful eyes, hiding the lust behind it made him hornier. He smiled and transformed.

You watched with your own eyes as he donned his armor, eyes staring at his cock that grew larger before it was covered by leather. You gulped.

‘Was that a knot?’ you thought as you felt your pussy grow wetter.

“I promise I’ll be gentle”

His monstrous cock was before your eyes, it made your mouth water and then he began with fucking your mouth. You felt him reach all the way back until he hit your throat, pleasure and pain mixing together as you tried not to gagged as he used your mouth. His cock was huge and thick, veins throbbing as you did your best to blow him.

You cried as you weakly clung to his clothes, slowly losing your mind to the pleasure. He came inside your mouth, cum pouring down your throat as he gently pulled out, you closed your eyes and tried to gather the excess that dribbled from your mouth to your palm.

“Swallow it” He ordered and you happily, greedily obeyed.

Even the cum on your hand was drunk, it was thick and delicious, sweet. You opened your mouth, tongue hanging out for him to see your obedience.

His clawed hands gently ruffled your head, the pointed tips scratching your head and awakening something in you.

“Now take my cock” He said as he lifted you up and then plunged your pussy to his erection.

You moaned loudly, your stomach bulging out from his cock.

“Too much~” You cried, even as you began to move your hips, “you’re too big! I-it won’t fit inside!”

You moaned as his clawed hands helped you move up and down, making your breasts jiggle with each motion as you begged for mercy even though your body was honestly enjoying his cock.

He slipped his cock outside of your pussy, rubbing your cum covered clit and reaching all the way to your cum drenched tits.

“Nooo! Don’t take it out!” You begged in tears.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Reason was thrown out of the window and he mounted you, pushing his cock all the way in, a miracle, that had you crying out in pleasure as he fucked you raw.

His old cum was pushed out with each thrust, clawed hands pressing on your back and holding your hips like you were a living fleshlight. Your lewd voice begging him for more as he ripped away the rest of your torn clothes.

He reached out for him, drawing him close until his mask opened and a long pointed tongue came out and entangled with yours. You made out with Foul Legacy as cock fucked your pussy raw, scraping out the cum until you came over and over again. Your thighs were drenched again, the bed shaking enough for the headboard to bang against the wall loudly.

Between your numerous orgasms you passed out just as he came inside you, flooding your womb and pussy with his cum, most of it ending up on the sheets and dripping down your pussy. He pulled out and began to fuck your thighs, bedframe creaking from the sheer force of his thrust until it broke as he spurted out and covered your entire body with his cum.

He panted heavily, engraving in his mind your blissed out expressions when you fainted from the pleasure.

‘Tomorrow, we’ll talk about your reaction when you first saw me,’ He thought as he gently lifted you up from the broken bed and made his way to the living area ‘but for now I need to get all of this out of our system.’

You woke up the next morning, face down on the table as you felt your body rocking.

“Good morning, love”

Tartaglia’s voice came from behind as you arched your back and moaned from having a dick thrusted into your sore pussy.

“Ngh!”

You turned around and found yourself staring at Tartaglia’s maskless Foul Legacy form, his eyes were slanted, and hair spiked up in soft waves.

He laughed at you softly, “Have you fallen for me again?”

“Darling~ You’ve ruined me for everyone else!” You cried as you let him see how much he affected you.

He grinned and you moaned in pleasure, when his head hit your g-spot.

“We broke the bed, so the table would have to do” He explained as he began to fuck you over the table, you were too lost in the pleasure to hear his explanation.

But he was in the same predicament as well, all thoughts of talking were gone, the moment he began fucking you as he slept. At this point, the entire apartment reeked of sex and yet neither of you remembered or cared.

Other things could wait.

[marwritesgood]

Only You | S. Basset

Pairing: Simon x WOC!Reader

Timeframe: Season One

Summary: While Y/n prepares to leave London, Simon is confronted by Philippa.

PART ONE

masterlist

A/N: One more part after this :)

Y/n sat with the eldest of her cousins in the drawing-room. Despite the number of workers present and eligible, young Elizabeth begged her older cousin to braid her hair before she left. Y/n could not resist her sweet smile. She also knew she would miss Philippa’s children terribly, just as she would Philippa.

“There you are!”

Y/n and Elizabeth jumped at Philippa’s abrupt call. 

“I’ve called for a carriage as you requested, my dear,” Philippa began as she sat with her niece and daughter. She could no longer bring herself to hide her concern and sorrow. “Though I hope you know there is still plenty of time to reconsider your decision.”

Even if it were at the very last moment, if Y/n were to say she wanted to stay, Philippa would be ready to call it off in a moment’s notice. 

“My mind is decided, aunt Philippa,” Y/n responded monotonously. She intentionally averted her eyes from her aunt. Philippa knew her niece far too well. Y/n’s best chance at concealing her genuine emotions was to avoid looking her aunt in the eye.

Truthfully, she was terrified. Y/n had become accustomed to floating through seasons with no intention of marrying anytime soon. The prospect of finally accepting a marriage proposal, to a man she had no sincere desire to marry, was frightening. She could not let Philippa know for fear that she would convince her to do otherwise. 

“Lizzie,” Philippa whispered to her daughter. “Dear, please join your siblings in the other room.”

Y/n sighed defeatedly. She should have known better than to think she could keep anything from her aunt. Her cousin exited the room in a half-done braid, leaving Y/n to stare at her hands while her aunt studied her intently.

“You must understand the magnitude of what you plan to do,” Philippa said worriedly. That is what she feared most of the situation. She could not bear the thought of Y/n being miserable because of a decision she made in the heat of the moment. “I know you are hurt, dear, but you do not have to leave so soon.”

Y/n sniffled, taking her aunt by surprise. She could no longer hold back her tears. Not after the exhaustingly painful week, she had endured. 

“I do, aunt Philippa,” Y/n cried, laughing bitterly. Philippa’s brows knitted together in both confusion and concern. “I cannot bear to stay in London another day... The longer I stay here, the harder it will be to leave.”

Philippa frowned, lifting her hands to wipe Y/n’s tears away. She had not yet found out what happened between her niece and Simon. All she could conclude was that Y/n’s heart was broken finally again.

“He admitted to courting Miss Bridgerton,” Y/n explained. It pained her to recount what Simon said the night before, but she felt it was the only way to put rest to Philippa’s attempts to keep her in London. “- and he admitted he intends to marry her.”

Philippa inhaled sharply, closing her eyes tightly as she did so. Though she did not have an incredibly close relationship with Simon, she always believed him to be a good man. A man who cared deeply for her niece. 

Glancing back to her niece, Philippa pursed her lips and pulled Y/n into her arms, hugging her closely. As she cried softly into her shoulder, anger began to erupt within Philippa. Y/n was the last person she deemed worthy of such heartbreak.

“The carriage will be here before evening,” Philippa informed Y/n, who was grateful that she would no longer keep her from leaving. “I have one matter to attend to, but I will be home before you to leave.”

Y/n nodded before returning to her younger cousins. Once she left, Philippa called for a carriage to take her to the Danbury estate. She had more than a few unkind words to offer the Duke of Hastings.

***

Simon found himself, yet again, standing idle in the maze’s centre outside the Danbury estate. He had barely any rest the night before, so he headed straight to the maze once there was sunlight.

Before he could leave, however, of Daphne being introduced to Prince Friedrich reached him. Thus there ruse was no longer necessary, subsequently leaving Simon in dire need of a moment alone with his frustration.

If he had only told Y/n the truth the night before. If he had only kept her from leaving. If he had not rejected her in the first place. Perhaps he would not be in the situation he was in. 

“Your grace.”

Simon’s train of thought was abruptly broken when a worker approached him. He turned to face the man, eyebrows raised. The worker held his hands behind his back.

“You have a visitor waiting for you in the sitting room,” he explained. When Simon remained silent, the worker specified who it was. “... Lady Bennet.”

Simon’s heart began to pound. He nodded and returned inside with haste. Philippa Bennet, though kind and friendly by nature, could scare him half to death. Simon remembered watching how she would fearlessly berate and humiliate any man who so much as treated Y/n less than kindly. 

He never imagined he would be one.

Once he was inside, he halted outside the entrance to the sitting room. There was no telling how Philippa would treat him, especially after the way he had treated her niece before. Simon took several deep breaths before he cautiously entered the room.

“Lady Bennet,” he greeted as he walked in, his head bowed partially in shame and partly in fear.

“Your grace,” she responded, her tone sharp and piercing. 

She stood from her seat and glared at the duke as he made his way in. She spoke previously to Lady Danbury, who left just moments before Simon entered. It wasn’t until the worker exited the room, closing the door behind him, that she began to raise her voice. 

“You can be of no loss to understand why I am here.”

Simon remained silence, which provided Philippa with as much of a response as she needed.

“My niece just informed me today of your revelation to her at the gala,” she stated, referencing to him admitting to courting Daphne with the intention of marrying, which was not the truth. “I assume you have an explanation, your grace... Otherwise, you truly are the deceitful, heartless man I never imagined you would become.”

Simon winced at the description. It resembled too much of his father, which was the last kind of man he ever intended to become. Philippa raised her brow and remained silent, waiting for the explanation she knew would eventually be provided.

“I was dishonest,” he confessed, his expression overcome by the shame and guilt he been burdened by for the past week. Philippa remained puzzled, though relieved that there was more to the story than what her niece was led to believe. “My courtship of Miss Bridgerton was all an act... To help attract more suitors for her, and to improve my image in the public eye.”

Philippa folded her arms. While she was glad to hear that he was not actually courting another woman after Y/n, she was still angered by what he had done. Not to mention the immense pain it inflicted upon her niece.

“I assume you lied to my niece as a means of upholding your ruse?” 

He was taken by surprise, having expected her to scold him for his stupidity, just as he believed he deserved. His expectations were not necessarily misguided. Philippa intended to do just that. However, she first sought clarification.

“Yes,” Simon admitted sheepishly.

“I heard from Lady Danbury that Miss Bridgerton will soon be courted by Prince Friedrich... Does this mean your lie will no longer continue?”

Simon nodded, causing Philippa to sigh. Her line of questioning made incredibly clear to him how unnecessarily reckless he had been with Y/n’s heart. She was astonished by his foolishness. He could tell.

“I am deeply sorry, Lady Bennet-”

“I do not care for your apologies,” Philippa hissed, causing Simon to sink back. “You are to explain this to my niece yourself... She must hear the truth from you.”

Though Philippa was desperate to race home and tell Y/n the truth, she knew there would still be heartache on her behalf. Only Simon could indeed amend the issue.

“I cannot,” Simon cried, before inhaling sharply as he went to complete his sentence. “-I cannot bear to face her... I imagine I am the last person she wishes to speak to.”

“You are mistaken, your grace,” Philippa said flatly. He could not have been further from the truth. “I have often, particularly now, struggled to understand why... but she cares for you. Very much so. Even despite all the pain, you seemingly continue to cause her.”

“That, I struggle to believe,” Simon mumbled.

Philippa scoffed. It was a wonder Y/n was in so much pain. He seemed to consistently underestimate just how much she cared for him. She pondered for a moment, thinking of the best way to clarify to Simon the extent to which Y/n loved him.

“This is her second season,” Philippa stated, slowing her speech just to make absolute sure Simon could understand her point. “-and she has yet to be married... why do you think that is?”  

He stared blankly at Philippa, which only infuriated her more, though she continued, despite it.

“I was incredibly confused when I received a distraught letter from my sister at the end of last season,” Philippa began. “-She informed that Y/n had received 3 proposals... all from, what she described as, honourable men.” 

Philippa studied Simon’s reaction closely, hoping he would catch on soon. He was taken back. During Y/n’s first season, he feared the day she accepted a marriage proposal. 

“My confusion was then, of course, put to rest when I remembered Y/n confiding in me about her affections for you.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. It was not possible, he believed. After he turned Y/n away following her confession, he assumed her feelings would fade. 

He deemed his love for Y/n inevitable because loving her was easy to do and difficult to avoid. But he believed loving him was a challenge; a chore. He saw himself as broken. Haunted by the trauma inflicted upon him by his father. His vow to never marry was, truthfully, not the only reason he rejected Y/n.

Simon did not believe Y/n truly loved him. He struggled to imagine anyone could.

“You cannot possibly insinuate that I-”

“You idiotic fool!” Philippa blurted, interrupting Simon from, yet again, downplaying just how much Y/n cared for him. “Forgive me, your grace, but she confessed her feelings to you, did she not? Thus surely you must know how much she cares for you... you must know, Simon.”

He was dumbfounded. Overwhelmed by the prospect that Y/n’s love for him was true, tears stung the corners of his eyes. Philippa could not believe it. She knew of Simon’s past, but she was shocked to see how much of an effect it had on the poor duke. How unwilling he was to accept that he was loved. 

Sincerely and unconditionally.

“She intends to leave London this evening,” Philippa sighed sadly. Before she spoke again, she moved closer to Simon, looking him in the eye intently. She felt sympathy having understood why he acted the way he did, but she would not let him continue to do so. “If you truly care for my niece, you will not allow her to leave today without knowing the truth... She deserves as much after all she has done for you.”

Philippa exited the room briefly afterwards, leaving Simon to contemplate how on earth he would earn Y/n’s forgiveness and her trust.

***

Lady Danbury was puzzled as she watched Philippa Bennet rush out of her estate hastily. They had shared a brief conversation before she left, just as Simon arrived in from outside. Philippa had informed Danbury of Y/n’s plans to leave London and accept Mr Graham’s marriage proposal. 

While she knew the situation was tense, Lady Danbury sat with ease, on the outside seating area towards the left side. Of the many roles she played in her life and society, the matchmaker was one she most enjoyed. 

She hummed to herself as she took a sip of her earl grey tea, amused by the thrill of the current situation. Once Philippa’s carriage was out of sight, Lady Danbury began to count backwards from twenty. As she reached one, the sound of Simon’s quick-paced footsteps became increasingly loud.

“What seems to be troubling you, your grace.”

Most would have been startled by how Lady Danbury spoke with her back to Simon, but he had grown used to her being a step ahead of him. In fact, that was the very reason he found himself turning to her.

“I presume you already know,” he answered as he sat in the chair beside her.

Danbury chuckled, placing her cup back on the table before turning to her pseudo-nephew. He loved him as her own son, but she was far from oblivious to his flaws. 

“I expected you to be eager to follow Lady Bennet.”

“Quite the opposite, my lady,” he frowned, glancing down at his hands that could not seem to stop trembling. For most of his life, he carefully considered every decision he made to ensure perfection. This was unchartered territory.

Simon half-expected Lady Danbury to laugh, or to smile warmly at him before offering her advice. She had done just that for as long as he knew her. 

However, Lady Danbury did not respond in such a manner. She scoffed loudly before gripping her cane and turning to Simon with a disappointed glare. 

“Well then you are a fool,” she spoke harshly. 

Simon’s eyes widened. If he were not already sitting, he likely would have stumbled back. Despite his apparent shock, Lady Danbury was not fazed. Instead, her glare grew more intense. 

Similar to Philippa, Danbury was subject to Simon’s countless confidences regarding his feelings for Y/n. She was past waiting excitedly in anticipation for the two to finally be united. Now, she was irritated at how long it was taking Simon to act on his affections. Mostly after Y/n had already made clear hers.

“You care for her, do you not?”

“I do,” Simon answered, not a moment after Lady Danbury spoke. 

Silence fell amongst them. Danbury’s eyes narrowed in both confusion and frustration. Was it not clear to Simon what he needed to do? She held her cane with both hands. Simon sighed.

“That is precisely why I cannot go to her,” he explained. Lady Danbury groaned audibly, prompting Simon to further clarify his defence. “After all the pain I have put her through, do I not owe it to her to give her peace?”

“She will not have true peace until she knows.”

Simon averted his head slightly, his posture slumping down significantly. Lady Danbury began to realise that there was more to it than he was admitting to. 

Simon looked out towards the maze’s direction, and all he could think of was her, and the night before. All he could see was her expression when he lied about the nature of his relationship with Daphne. Not to mention how she walked away from him crying, and the way he let her go.

“I... am terrified,” Simon whispered, his voice shaky. Danbury inhaled sharply, before looking at him intently, remaining silent all the while so that he could continue. 

After a moment, Simon turned to face her. His eyes were glassy, and the wrinkle on his temple deepened as he furrowed his brows. He was no longer trying to defend himself. No longer trying to uphold a ruse or a confident demeanour. 

He was exhausted from doing so. All he wanted was to fix what he had broken.

“Every attempt I have made at explaining myself only seems to hurt her more,” he frowned. “She is leaving today because she seeks to be away from me... and I will honour her wishes, so as to not subject her to any more pain than I already have.”

It made sense to him. He had no luck when it came to making amends with Y/n. He felt incapable of fixing anything. It was clear that, as well as happiness, he was also incapable of giving her peace. And she deserved that, at the very least. 

“And then what will you do?” Lady Danbury questioned, curious to know the extent to which he believed what he was doing would fix anything.

“I... will wait,” he replied, confident in his response, leading Danbury to worry. He did not have the luxury of time, and it seemed she was the only one out of the two of them who knew this. “When she is ready to speak to me, I will explain the truth to her... and hopefully by then I will be able to do so in a way that does not hurt her.”

“Simon,” Lady Danbury said gently. She knew she was right to have called him foolish. However, Danbury realised that he was foolish out of his love for Y/n and lack of trust that he could love her. “She is not leaving London because she seeks to be away from you... She is leaving to accept a marriage proposal.”

Simon’s blood ran cold. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Before, he sat content in the comfort of knowing he had time to wait. Now all he could sit with was the terror of uncertainty.

“Your life decisions have been largely based on fear and on vengeance, but you do not have to continue to live this way,” Lady Danbury said, reaching out for his hand and taking hold of it firmly. “However, you cannot do so if you continue to deprive yourself of what brings you joy.”

She had held onto these words for a very long time after Simon announced he would not marry or have children. Danbury had always hoped that Simon would have a heart change eventually, but it was clear that they were running very short on time.

“You deserve an abundance of happiness and of love, just as anyone else in this world does, your grace,” Lady Danbury said with conviction. She was ashamed; it took her so long to realise how badly Simon needed to know this. “But you will only receive as much as you pursue. So allow me to ask again; what will you do?”

Simon lifted Lady Danbury’s hand and kissed it affectionately- his way of thanking her for, yet again, talking sense into him. Without waiting another moment, he raced towards the stables in search of his horse. 

***

Philippa stood sadly as she watched Y/n say goodbye to her cousins. Significant time had passed since she arrived home and Simon still had not arrived. However, despite the dire circumstances, she refused to give up hope.

As Y/n pulled away from her cousin, Elizabeth, she turned to Philippa, who stood between her and the carriage. Her bags had already been taken into the carriage. Everything was in line for her departure. All she had to do was say goodbye to her aunt, yet somehow that seemed to be the most challenging step.

“Aunt Philippa,” Y/n said cautiously, after noticing her sorrowful expression.

“You do not have to go,” Philippa cried, reaching her arms out and placing her hands gently on her niece’s shoulders. She did not care if she sounded like a broken record. “Please, my dear, if you possess even an ounce of doubt, you mustn’t go.”

“I have already made my decision,” Y/n replied, trying to comfort her aunt, who she knew was only concerned for her well-being. She wanted desperately to put Philippa’s mind at ease. “He is a good man... I will have a good future with him.”

“But you do not love him,” Philippa argued. Y/n quickly realised just how much her aunt had rubbed off on her. She could not yet figure out whether that was a good or bad thing.

“I cannot be so naïve as to base my choosing on love,” Y/n criticised.

“Yes you can,” Philippa insisted.

“How can you be so certain?” Y/n inquired, trying her best to refrain from scoffing at the irony in her aunt’s argument. “You are married to a Lord. You will never need to worry about bearing financial burdens, and it is because you accepted the proposal of a man mama matched you with.”

Y/n expected this would end her aunt’s argument against her marrying Mr Graham. 

“Your mama did not match me with Lord Bennet,” Philippa confessed, taking Y/n by great surprise. “Your mother asked me not to tell you at the time, but... Lord Bennet and I met during one of our visits to London. We remained in contact for the better half of my first season, and we eventually married because I fell pregnant... with Elizabeth.”

Y/n’s internal conflict increased significantly in intensity. She always admired the love shared between her aunt and her husband. She always admired the life they had together. However, she also accredited this to her mother’s strong-willed matchmaking and stubbornness.  

Her aunt noticed her reaction and sighed. She reached out and took hold of her niece’s hands, gripping firmly. Philippa had been saving that revelation for when her niece was grown enough. It frightened her how quickly that moment arrived.

“I know that the odds have always been stacked against women like us... but that does not mean we settle for men who do not care for us,” Philippa posited, challenging what Y/n previously believed to be true when it came to love and marriage. “You are allowed to prioritise what you want in a husband as well as what you need.”

Y/n’s heart began to pound. She had craved to hear those exact words ever since she prepared for her first season. If only she had heard them before she found herself in the situation she was in.

“You deserve to be with a man who you love and who makes you happy,” Philippa added, causing Y/n to flinch. She knew where her argument was headed. “A man like-”

“-Like Simon?” Y/n questioned in annoyance.

Philippa sighed, answering her niece’s question. 

“I know that you hoped it would be his proposal I would be accepting... I hoped for the same,” Y/n sighed. Having her aunt as her confidante meant their hopes for her future coincided—all except this time. “But I have waited for too long. I cannot keep putting my life on hold out of hope that he will have a change of heart... and that he will show up at the last minute on a white horse. I cannot do it.”

“Then disregard Simon for a moment,” Philippa said. “- and answer me this, will Mr Graham make you happy?”

Y/n scoffed. She could not keep relaying the same message to her aunt.

“I have told you, marrying him will guarantee me a good life-”

“I have no doubt that he will provide you financial stability,” Philippa interrupted.

Y/n was startled. Until then, all she was focused on was securing a promising future for herself. Until then, all she equated that it was a future free of any financial burden.

“But will he make you happy?” Philippa asked, narrowing her eyes. “When you are forced to endure his arrogance, his ignorance and his temper daily. When you are inevitably made to bear his children, thereafter reduced exclusively to their mother and his wife, and are no longer your own individual person. When it dawns on you that you will be stuck in this position for the rest of your life... Do you truly believe you will be happy?”

Y/n could not answer her aunt. Philippa knew her answer. They stared at one another, each with an expression far different from the other. While Y/n was started and frightened, Philippa remained concerned yet hopeful that her niece would finally change her mind.

Before either of them could speak, a worker approached Philippa and beat them both to it. 

“My lady, the carriage is ready for Miss Y/L/n’s departure.”

Y/n was quick to turn away from her aunt. She glanced at the other worker who stood by the carriage, holding the door open for Y/n to enter. She turned back to her aunt, who visibly feared what she was about to do next.

“Goodbye, aunt Philippa,” 

Y/n pulled Philippa into her arms and hugged her tightly. She knew her aunt was still very much worried and concerned for her. However, she hoped that Philippa would cast them aside for just a moment, and let her see this through.

When Philippa hugged her back and smiled wearily at her as she walked away, Y/n knew she was doing just that. And for that, she was extremely grateful.

As the doors to Y/n’s carriage closed, she closed her eyes and braced herself for the future she was going to commit to the day after. In an attempt to forget what her aunt had said to her, Y/n waved goodbye once before looking away. 

She glued her sight to the road ahead, refusing to look back to the street behind her, or the gates to her aunt’s home.

The very gates Simon would ride through moments after, only to realise that Y/n had already left. That he had spent so much time hesitating and waiting for the right moment, he missed his opportunity to see her before she left.

That he was too late.

NEXT PART

@deakesthegreatest @smol-grandpa

[milliedazzledust]

Even When It Hurts (Clark Kent imagine)

Request by @icyhollands​ : Clark comforting the reader after she got hurt by someone pretty badly, and him comforting her from a anxiety attack after she gets hurt

Words: 2009

A/N: I know a lot of you were waiting for this so I’m sorry it took so long to write - thank you for your patience and I hope you’ll like it :) 

“Clark, you need to come down, now!”

Flying across his enemies on the battlefield, he faintly heard the sound of a voice, even with the distance. As soon as Bruce had found the aliens associated with Darkseid, they had been quick to act and the whole team had made the trip to fight.

While the others were keeping most of their opponents on the ground, he had taken upon himself to divert their attention from the precious object they were trying to steal by attacking from the sky. Too focused on the task, he had missed Arthur and Y/N going after a bunch of them. When she had seen her friend in bad posture, she hadn’t hesitated to put herself between him and the alien, taking the full blast of his hit. Her body had flown across the field before landing on a large tree trunk, breaking it in half. Her vision had been blurred for a moment, too disoriented as her breath was knocked out of her by the hard impact. She hadn’t been fast enough to notice the monster running toward her until she had felt the pain. Arthur had come to her rescue and killed him, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

When she looked down, all she saw was the tip of the weapon he had used, the other half was deep in her side, buried between what she guessed was her ribs. 

“Y/N’s been hit!” Arthur yelled as he grabbed her when she fell on her knees. 

High above their heads, Clark looked down and quickly spotted the wounded woman. He wasted no time in making his way to her, sending some of the aliens flying with a flicker of his hand. When one of them launched at him, and conjuring up all his frustration and his anger, he punched him with a force that knocked him out instantly. 

His eyes remained on her, always. He felt his heart clenched when he saw pain twisting her features and instantly understood the gravity of her situation. She was holding onto Arthur, clutching her side, holding the weapon steady in her flesh. Fear is all he could feel when he landed on the ground, staring at the large gash of blood around her wound. He could even hear her heartbeat getting faster by the second. 

Furrowing his brows in concern, he kneeled in front of her and grabbed her face. For a second he just studied her, softly brushing a tear with his thumb, until his eyes landed on hers.

“How bad is it ?” She asked him, her voice a weak whisper.

“You’re gonna be fine” He assured her.

“You’re a terrible liar, Clark” She tried to smile but even that simple movement seemed too much in her state.

She knew if she didn’t feel a thing yet it was purely because of the adrenaline. Tiny little molecules running through her veins, urging her body to fight back, to survive and fix what the foreign object had torn. She could sense fluid pouring out of her injury, the hand clutching her side was already covered in red. She was waiting for the moment the hormone would stop working and she would feel like a bomb had exploded inside of her. 

She closed her eyes and a sob escaped her mouth. Her breathing was getting irregular and she was losing her grip. She was exhausted.

“Y/N, stay with me” The superhero tried to motivate her, slowly shaking her head. “Show me those pretty eyes” 

She was starting to lose consciousness, and that observation alone terrified him. He kissed her forehead in a sign of encouragement and laid his hand over hers so she wouldn’t let go. She cried out in pain and glanced down. It only took a couple seconds before he was covered in blood as well. He pursed his lips, forcing himself to keep his eyes on hers and not look at the wound. His face was betraying him and he wasn’t even aware of it. She could so easily see the reflection of his own fear in his gaze, the depiction of worry over his features that she lazily traced with her fingers. The shadow of a smile appeared on her lips knowing only she could read him like an open book. 

“It’s alright, baby” He comforted her. 

“You should work on your poker face” She tried to joke. She was glad it made him smirk.

He turned his head toward Arthur, still holding the woman’s body.

“We’re gonna lay her down” He told him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” Y/N warned him, grabbing his biceps to stop him. 

“Do you trust me ?” He muttered, stroking her cheek.

“You know I do”

“Then trust me” 

She faintly nodded and let the men handle her wounded body. Arthur was behind her, holding on her shoulders, and Clark was in front of her, one hand on her wound, the other behind her neck. As gently as they could, they started to rotate her. Clark never moved his gaze away from hers, not even when her hand gripped his shoulder in pain or when her tears flowed freely as the pain started to become unbearable. 

The moment her head touched the ground, she began to cough blood. Her eyes widened at the realization and her heartbeat hastily palpitated. 

“We’re alright” He reassured her.

“We’re alright” She repeated in a whisper. She could no longer focus on anything around her. Anxiety was creeping up and threatening to take over. She knew it would do no good but she couldn’t stop it. Her hand tightly clutched the fabric of her man’s costume and her chest started to rise more rapidly as bile rose in her throat. 

“Clark” She called for help in a single breath. 

“I’m here, baby. I’m not leaving your side” 

He wiped the blood on her mouth with his finger.

“You and I have a date tomorrow, remember ?” He spoke, smiling when she faintly nodded. “So you’re not allowed to fall asleep. I haven’t even introduce you to my terrible cooking yet”

Her laugh started a coughing fit, bringing more blood out of her mouth.

“I have to take it out, Y/N” He said more seriously, motioning to the weapon in her body. 

Her eyes widened in panic and she shook her head, ignoring the pain.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, beautiful. I’ve got you” 

“A .. plan ?” She asked.

“Yes, I do have a plan” He understood her question. “But you’re not going to like it” 

“Tell me” She murmured.

“You’re hemorrhaging,” He explained. “If we let it in, you’re risking an infection”

“And if you take it out, I’ll bleed out” She weakly responded.

“Not if I cauterize the wound” 

“How ?” 

She understood the moment she saw his eyes flashing red. She gulped, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

“I trust you” She repeated the words she had said already.

He nodded and gave her one last encouraging smile before motioning for Arthur to come closer. He explained his plan in a hurry before standing up, letting the King of Atlantis take his place. 

“Ready ?” He questioned the woman.

“Do it” She said, clenching her teeth. 

She averted her gaze toward Clark, mouthing one last ‘I love you’ before Arthur pulled out the weapon in a very fast movement and held her down. Superman’s eyes immediately started glowing and he directed his heat vision to the open wound. The moment the high temperature laser touched her skin, she screamed in agony. A horrible, searing pain suddenly invaded her body and she was convinced she was going to die right there. She felt the urge to get away from the source but Arthur had a good grip on her. She kept shouting, as if it would ease the burning sensation. Clark’s jaw tightened and a tear rolled down his cheek, hating to be the one causing her pain.

After only a couple of seconds, she could no longer handle the torture and lost consciousness. The superhero stopped his ministration when he was sure the wound was closed properly and no blood was leaking anymore. Ignoring the smell of burned skin, he silently picked her up in his arms, listening closely to her heartbeats to make sure she was alright.

“I’ve got her” He told Arthur before bolting in the air.

She woke up hours later in a bed, completely disoriented. It took her a solid minute to recognize Clark’s bedroom inside the Kent farmhouse. She felt a throbbing ache on her side and muffled a scream when she touched it. When she looked down, she realized Clark had taken off her suit and had replaced it with one of his shirts. She lifted it to inspect the damage but all there was left of her wound was a small scar made by the man she loved. She shuddered at the memory and swung her legs off the bed. The moment her feet touched the ground, her body crumbled and she lost her balance. A pair of strong arms caught her before she could injure herself.

“You’ve not healed yet” A voice scolded her.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes closed, she let her head fall on his chest and circled his waist, squeezing him in a tight embrace that she so desperately needed. He was her safe line when she was spiraling down, which was happening now that she remembered she had almost lost him.

“How are you feeling ?” He inquired, kissing her head

“Alive” She replied. “I got … I really got scared for a minute”

She brushed a tear and tried to stop the hurricane of negative thoughts hitting her. He felt it too when her body started shaking and ran a hand on her back to calm her down.

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you” He swore, holding back the anxiety creeping in. “And I hope you know I won’t let you out of my sight for at least a week” 

She knew it was his way of lightening the mood when he could feel her darkness hovering above both of their heads. He had a way of guessing when it was coming and always reacted quickly, diverting her attention to anything else but her mind playing games.

“Do I, at least, get to spend that week in your arms ?” She smirked, raising her head so only her chin was resting on his chest.

“I have conditions” He replied with a smile.

She rolled her eyes.

“Name it” 

She saw the change in his attitude and tilted her head in confusion when he took a step back. Cupping her face with both his hands, he stared deeply at her. She could see his quiet emotion through the way his eyes bore into hers, his fear and his devotion.

“Never say I love you like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to hear it” He told her, his lips quivering as a shaky breath escaped his mouth.

Instead of answering, she led him to the bed behind them and together they laid down. He pulled her close and she raised her head until her lips found his. She didn’t need words when she could condensed a million loving thoughts into this moment. The emotion of that kiss alone spoke volume. A simple gesture that meant ‘you’re my home and I won’t leave’

“I love you, Clark”

She repeated the words again and again, making him laugh with happiness. He tightened his hold around her waist until she was almost laying on his chest. Her ear against his heart, she listened with a smile and closed her eyes, soothed by the steady rhythm. 

“Thank you” She whispered after a while. 

“What for ?”

“Bringing my head and soul back home to you when they get lost” 

“Always” He promised.

Her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, she kissed his cheek and peacefully fell asleep in his protective embrace. 

[myherowritings]

Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was. 

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location. 

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.” 

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.” 

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

 “Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?” 

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead. 

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower. 

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too? 

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice. 

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?” 

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion. 

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--” 

“Y/N!” 

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice. 

There was no way. 

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up. 

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring. 

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!” 

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi. 

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.” 

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?” 

“None of your damn business.” 

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?” 

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him. 

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone. 

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.” 

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.” 

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.” 

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement. 

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.” 

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him. 

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster. 

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question. 

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.” 

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white. 

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing. 

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t. 

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes. 

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!” 

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?” 

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” 

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.” 

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.” 

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.” 

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused. 

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.” 

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed. 

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love. 

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end. 

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face. 

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.” 

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night. 

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”  

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends. 

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.” 

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.” 

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.” 

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to. 

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well. 

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter. 

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close. 

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face. 

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side. 

“No.” 

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard. 

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?” 

You flushed. “Oh, hush.” 

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car. 

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.” 

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.” 

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street. 

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze. 

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you. 

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you. 

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart. 

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay. 

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.” 

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen. 

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.” 

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.” 

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own. 

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right. 

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks. 

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.” 

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.” 

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider. 

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning? 

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?” 

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you. 

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.” 

“No worries.” 

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty. 

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little. 

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about. 

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!” 

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden? 

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop. 

He accepted it. “Thank you.” 

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers. 

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?” 

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!” 

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.” 

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat. 

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching. 

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.” 

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes. 

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!” 

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.” 

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.” 

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.” 

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.” 

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t. 

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme. 

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?” 

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.” 

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.” 

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.” 

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it. 

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.” 

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you. 

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.” 

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.” 

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--” 

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his. 

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.” 

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced. 

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.” 

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say. 

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.” 

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.” 

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted. 

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.” 

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down? 

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.” 

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly. 

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.” 

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.” 

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.” 

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close. 

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.” 

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued. 

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips. 

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.” 

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.” 

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter. 

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.” 

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?” 

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.” 

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched. 

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully. 

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face. 

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you. 

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.” 

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?” 

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?” 

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.” 

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him. 

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted. 

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night. 

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response. 

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged. 

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss. 

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.” 

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled. 

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.” 

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse. 

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him. 

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face. 

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!” 

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully. 

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.” 

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door. 

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door. 

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles. 

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved. 

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!” 

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater. 

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.” 

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?” 

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment. 

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful. 

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.” 

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?” 

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.” 

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight. 

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.” 

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did. 

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon. 

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept. 

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you. 

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop. 

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face. 

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park. 

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again. 

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together. 

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx 

[stardust-kenobi]

My Purpose

Din Djarin/Mando x Reader

Summary: You're captured by the Empire, held for questioning concerning the location of the child. Under Moff Gideon's supervision, you endure harsh punishment. You knew that Din would never leave you behind. The moment you heard blasters firing rapidly outside your holding cell, you knew he'd come back for you.

Warnings: violence, mild torture to reader (no SA), mention of blood, death, reader being "helpless", helmetless Din, fluff

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: I mean, don't we all fantasize about being rescued by a bounty hunter as a helpless damsel in distress? Just me? well, enjoy anyways. This honestly reads like a Mandalorian episode. @ jon favreau, hire me pls. reader is referred to as “her” once or twice but otherwise can be read as gender neutral.

gif credit: @isetthetone

"I won't talk" You spat at the men towering over you. You were firm, and steady in your composure. More troopers, higher ranking than the predecessors, continued in the attempt to break you. The Empire wanted the child, and you'd never let them get close. The vents blasted near frozen air onto your shoulders from above, insulated in your holding cell that was encased with metal and designed for discomfort.

Without another helpless word, and the press of a little red button, bolts of electricity coursed throughout your already exhausted body, delivered by the small device forcibly wrapped around your head. The pain was excruciating, but you were beginning to feel numb with every passing second. This was the 5th...no, 6th time...so far, that this pain has been inflicted on you. It benefitted neither party in the room. You offered no evidence of weakness aside from your obvious pain. They had to know that you weren't any close to revealing any useful information.

"If you won't talk, Moff Gideon will be taking matters into his own hands. Give us the location of the kid, or suffer the consequences" Their voices were muffled in a similar way that Din's helmet muffled his voice. It reminded you of him in an oddly comforting way. You missed him terribly already. Without even seeing the true look in Din's eyes when they captured you only seconds before you were able to make it to the Razor Crest, you knew his heart made the most difficult decision he's ever had to make. You knew it was you or the child, and neither of us would ever let them get their hands on him.

Although you kept your composure in the presence of your captors, you were scared. Petrified, even. Din swore to himself many months ago to protect you in exchange for you assisting him in raising the child. You knew little of childcare, but Din knew you could both figure it out together. After all, you did owe him big time for saving your life when you first met. And here we were, right back where it all started...you needed to be saved again. You hoped he'd gotten the child miles away from here by now. You'd lost track of time but it felt like hours, maybe even half a day at this point.

Your silence was the only response to the further questions.

"Suit yourself" One of the troopers scoffed, and swiftly exited with his partner. The door slid open and closed just barely long enough for them to leave. You were then trapped, cold, and alone again. As much as you wanted to be relieved from your situation, you cared significantly more for the safety of the child and your armored protector.

The minutes dragged and your chest felt heavy as the panic began to sink in. This was it for you. No way they’d let you leave after being of no use to them. Your death was inevitable, and your racing thoughts began to slow as you came to peace with that.

You heard the faint hissing of a door on the other side of your cell, signifying someone's entry. Then suddenly, your cell door slid open, revealing a towering figure. Although you'd never seen the late Darth Vader, the way you imagined him was reflected in this man.

The jet-black shine of his armor was enough to startle you in his presence. But his expression...the menacing grin framed the picture of a despicable man.

Your face was blank. Showing any fear was not an option right now. Although, you were subtly trembling in your seat.

"You know that you've made a big mistake, right?" He said, approaching you slowly, using his height to tower over you while you were seated on a steel bench.

Silence.

"Your beloved bounty hunter isn't coming back for you," Moff Gideon said softly, getting uncomfortably close to your face. "Why not just comply with our requests so we can move along with the search? hm?"

"You'll never find them" You hissed at him.

"Oh, actually I will. That you can count on" He laughed. The insulting tone made you sick. "However, if you tell us where they are, your torture will come to an end and we can get this whole thing over with. What do you say?"

"Never."

"Your persistence is admiring, truly it is. But why waste your time? He doesn't care about you. He's a Mandalorian. They only care about their creed. Everything else is just...a commodity."

You shook your head in denial. That wasn't true.

"You're wrong."

His gloved hand firmly grabbed your chin, pulling your face up toward him. You cringed and winced under his touch.

“Where are they?” He persistently shouted in your face. You jolted your head backward in attempt to put distance between the two of you. With your response of more silence, you were met with a sharp and painful blow to the side of your face. You turned to look back at him, trying to collect yourself from the pain. His fist was still tight and ready to throw another punch.

The second punch was worse, it radiated pain through your entire skull and caused your eyes to go blurry for a moment. The cuts already open on your cheek were split open with damage you were taking. You felt the blood begin to drip down your face. Any additional infliction would be hell, but you’d take any pain necessary to keep everything you loved safe.

His other hand brought to your attention a small red button. The same button the stormtroopers used to electrocute you before. You whimpered in anticipation and tears involuntarily formed in your eyes.

A deranged smile spread across his face. Your fear just fueled his power. And just before he could inflict any additional pain on you, he seemed to have received transmission into his ear.

His brows furrowed. His eyes then locked with yours.

"Repeat, commander" a look of concern was on his face. Disbelief, even.

"Don't let him step foot on my ship" Moff Gideon seethed.

Although you were uninformed to the other side of the conversation, there was no question. You grinned ear to ear. He came back for you. Of course he did.

"Well, change of plans. The Mandalorian dies today" Moff Gideon snickered.

"We'll see about that" You whispered.

The ship shook and vibrated under your feet. As if a ship had docked...or crashed, maybe. Moff Gideon snapped his attention behind him, as if he could see what was happening through the secured doors.

Another transmission came through, one you still weren't able to hear.

"If he doesn't have the child, then he's no use to me. Kill him."

Your heart sank at the mere thought of losing him. But it wouldn't happen. Gideon's troopers were no match.

Moff Gideon kept his close watch over you while he hid like a coward in your cell with you. His hand rested atop his blaster in preparation for what he knew was to come. The cruiser you were aboard had a crew of probably 50 people. If they all served to be as awful at combat as other troopers that you’d seen Din take down, you’d be rescued in no time.

You watched Gideon’s body language grow more and more nervous and fidgety as the commotion grew on the other side of the door. Blasters and the sharp clinking of metal filled the narrow space of the ships walls. That muffled sound was moving closer. As the situation became less favorable for Gideon, it became more favorable for you. That fact alone put a smile on your face.

Then suddenly…three loud bangs penetrated the walls. It sounded as though someone was trying to break through the first door. But that wasn’t regular armor hitting the metal…it was beskar. Gideon trembled. He jolted when the banging arrived at your cell door. He was displeased to hear you laugh at his reaction, which fueled his anger.

He yanked your arm and threw you in front of him as a human shield, pulling his arm around your chest and igniting the dark saber, holding it only centimeters from your throat. The blade vibrated loudly, threatening to take your life in one motion. What a fucking coward. Can’t even fight without using you as bait.

It took less time for Din to break through the second door. Within seconds, the door snapped and broke open, revealing your protector wrapped in his armor as usual. What was unusual, though, was the splattered blood across his chest plate. You couldn’t even imagine what he’d just been through to get to you.

“Step another foot closer and she dies” Moff Gideon insisted.

“Let her go” his soothing voice broke through his helmet, calming your nerves, even with death being only a movement away. “You’re outnumbered, Moff Gideon”

“I would disagree. It seems it’s one on one”

He pulled the saber closer to your neck. You whimpered and squinted your eyes shut. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you opened them back up. You see Din’s fist in a ball, revealing his frustration and anger.

“Based on your fighting skills I’d say it’s more like two on one, wouldn’t you think?” Din snapped back at him.

“Alright. Let’s fight then, Mandalorian” Gideon said with a smirk on his face. He threw you down carelessly back onto the bench. You cried out in pain as your face hit in the cold seat.

Both men circled one another with their weapon of choice in the ready position. The saber was still ignited, and Din had his staff of beskar. No lightsaber could ever cut through beskar, not even the dark saber. Din swung first, striking Gideon’s side armor. He retaliated, only to be met with the staff that rejected the saber’s power.

There were flashes of blinding light back and forth, both men having a fair chance against the other. You watched in terrifying anticipation, fearful of Din’s safety. You believed in him, but to watch him fight scared you. After a few minutes, Din finally had Gideon pinned against the floor, with the beskar staff pointed right below his chin. The saber was thrown from his hands, and out of his reach.

This was it, you thought. We are getting out of here.

But not yet. Gideon made a move so swiftly you couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. The staff was knocked from Din’s grip, and he was thrown backward onto the floor. Gideon somehow maneuvered himself on top of him now, with the staff in his control.

No. Please no.

He could’ve killed him in one motion, but instead, Gideon pushed the staff under the grip of Din’s helmet and forcefully pulled it from his head, slicing his chin in the process. You gasped and looked away, to be respectful of his creed. You’d never seen him without his helmet. All you caught glimpse of was the deep brown color of his hair.

You only listened now, as you were unable to watch how this would end.

“You have nothing now” Gideon started, breathing heavy through his words. “Your creed has been broken. You have no purpose” he laughed, pleased with himself for to bring shame to his opponent. "Give it up, Din Djarin."

A familiar voice broke the air that you’d ever only heard through the distortion of a helmet. You gasped softly.

“She is my purpose. The child is my purpose. I won’t let you take that away from me” Din said. It sounded like the voice was directed toward you rather than Gideon based on your positioning. You melted at his words.

Not another word was spoken before the clanging of metal filled the room again, you couldn’t tell what was happening, which made you all the more terrified. Gideon groaned in pain, it sounded as if he was on the ground now.

“You’ll never take the child. And you’ll never see the light of day again. All because you took my girl” Din breathed deep through his words.

You heard the dark saber ignite again.

The vibration from the saber indicated a swift movement.

A loud thud against the ground.

Silence.

You trembled with your arms covering your head in a fetal position on the bench. You knew it had to be Din who was still standing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Y/N” his warm voice graced your ears only inches from behind you. You audibly sobbed. Knowing immediately you were safe. He was still helmet-less, you could tell. You turned over to face him, but kept your eyes closed so you wouldn’t see him.

The electrocution device wrapped around your head was removed gently. You'd somehow forgotten it was even there. His hands then wrapped around yours as you moved to sit in an upright position.

“Look at me” he pleased softly

“But your hel-” you started

“Look at me” he insisted, squeezing your hands gently.

Your eyelids folded open slowly. You weren’t afraid, but you were hesitant. He was crouched in front of you. What you saw as your gaze met his, took your breath away. His eyes were brown, a match to his hair you caught glimpse of before. It was Din. You were finally seeing the man you loved for what he really looked like. He was so beautiful. All the words you wanted to say failed to leave your mouth as you scanned his face over and over again. His expression was riddled with worry and concern.

“Did he do this to you?” He referred to the gash above your cheek, and the other visible bruising down your body. You were suddenly aware of how deeply he cared for you.

On the verge of tears and still remaining speechless, you nodded your head. “I’m okay”

“He’ll never take you from me or lay a hand on you again” your eyes travelled over to Gideon’s lifeless body on the floor. Din gently pulled your face back to look at him so you wouldn’t be more traumatized than you already were.

“I’m here” he reassured you. A smile formed on his lips. Maker…that smile. You were seeing him smile for the first time. Sweat and patches of blood scattered Din's face. You couldn't imagine the hell he went through to get to you.

“But Din, your helmet” you remained confused. You knew that meeting other Mandalorian recently may have changed his outlook but you never thought he’d break the creed intentionally. He could’ve put it back on. But he didn’t.

“It’s okay... I wanted to see you with my own eyes. You are my purpose now, y/n”

He said it again. The same sentiment that surprised you before. Your heart was so full in that moment.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner" He remorsefully spoke. "Its my job to protect you, and I almost failed you. It'll never happen again"

You shake your head. He didn't need to apologize. He was here now and that's all that mattered.

“I’ve never been happier to see someone’s face in my entire life” you say, continuing to admire his features. You bring your hand to cup the side of his face. He closed his eyes gently as a result of your caress. Your skin against his was so mesmerizing...so new to you...so new to him. You halted your gaze this time at his lips and then looked back to his eyes. He was looking at your lips too.

Neither of you had to say another word. An unspoken desire between the two of you was about to be fulfilled. His finger guided your chin closer to him.

The silence was so loud. The lack of troopers and personnel on the ship was haunting, yet somehow incredibly peaceful. The beating of your heart was beginning to fill that silence in your ears. It beat rapidly in response to your near death experience in addition to being this close to him. Being completely alone and intimate with him.

You leaned in to him with his guidance. As your lips just barely brushed against his, you took a sharp breath in. The skin on his lips was supple and warm. As you fully pressed your mouth against his, you fell apart into his kiss. Your whole body was encased in warmth and a feeling of security from this closeness with him. His hand rested against the back of your neck and pulled you closer into the kiss, if that was even possible. Even though you were truly alone, this kiss alone made it feel like you and him were the only two people left in the whole galaxy.

You never wanted to pull away from him. You both waited so long for this moment.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that" He whispered, as the kiss finally broke.

"I do, Din. Trust me I do" You giggled. You were captivated by the feeling that this kiss had left with you.

He pulled his head back to take another look at you.

"Let's get you home" He said, before standing to his feet.

Even weak from his battle wounds, he scooped you up into his arms, and carried you back to the Razor Crest.

[fizzyxcustard]

Misunderstanding.

Masterlist of all fics are here

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, angst, brief/mild sexual references

Summary: From this imagine Thorin notices that you have been more distant recently, spending a lot of time away from him and he notices that you shy away when in the company of a male Dwarf called Hodel. He begins to have suspicions that you are being unfaithful and confronts you. 

Comments: If you would like to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know as I’m gradually creating a new one. Enjoy!

Thorin watched you from across the room. Yet again you were conversing with Hodel, one of the councilmen. The whispers and secrecy that you were both exhibiting was making Thorin frustrated. The King took a deep inhale of breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect his thoughts. 

“Are you ready?” Thorin asked curtly, the frustration still taking hold of him. 

You looked at your husband, surprised by his sudden appearance. “Oh, I’m sorry, my love,” you replied, touching his arm. “I have a few things to discuss with Hodel. I shouldn’t be any more than an hour. I’ll meet you up in our chambers shortly.” 

“Fine,” Thorin half hissed. 

***

Things didn’t get much better for Thorin. Over a span of two weeks you were missing for dinner. Until one evening, Thorin had had enough and flung all of the food and glasses from the table. Everything smashed upon the stone floor, paired with the guttural shouts of anger from the King. 

Thorin was well aware that unfaithfulness was rampant in your society, and not being of the Dwarf race, you had no idea of how important loyalty was. Every relationship between Dwarves, whether platonic, family-orientated, or romantic, was always to be cherished. How could he have allowed someone from that kind of race into his life? A race of cheats and liars! 

Suddenly the door burst open and you swung in, cheerful and with a huge grin on your face. “Good evening, my love,” you giggled. “Uh...oh,” you said, glancing down, shocked by the broken glass and food lying across the floor. “Are you alright?” 

You approached your husband, ready to make sure that he had not come to any harm, but he flinched away. His eyes were cold and he shot you a look of complete distain over his fur-covered shoulder. 

“Thorin?” you asked. “My love?” 

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Thorin spat. 

“W...wha....what?” you stuttered in complete disbelief. “I don’t understand.” You shook your head for emphases, dazed and confused by your husband’s outburst. “What’s brought this on?”

“Do not act so innocent. I am surely not your love. I should have known better than marry someone from such a society that is unfaithful to the ones they should cherish beyond measure. Disgusting!” 

“You think I’m cheating?” you cried. “W....why? This is insane.” 

“Every evening and you disappear with Hodel. You are constantly whispering in council, trying to steer clear of me. Do you think I am a complete fool and don’t know what you are up to?” Thorin growled. 

Tears fell down your cheeks. How on earth could he ever think you would be unfaithful to him? Did Thorin even have any idea how much you adored him? No other man could ever compare to him; in every way he was superior. Thorin made your heart leap for joy, he pleased you, both physically and emotionally. Your love making had always been intense and you hoped that you would be blessed with a child soon. 

“How can you ever think I’d be unfaithful to you?” you wept, dropping down to the bed. “No one else can compare to you...ever.” 

Thorin crossed his arms, trying to remain composed, but the sight and sound of you crying always brought him to his knees in weakness. In a split second of that weakness, he approached you, his hand reaching out to brush your hair. 

You looked up at him and softly grabbed his hand, putting it your cheek. “I love you more than life itself, Thorin,” you sobbed. 

Thorin swallowed hard, trying to press the lump away which had developed. He averted his gaze to the ceiling and tears gathered, blurring his vision. “Why? Am I not good enough?” Thorin whispered, his voice breaking. 

“It’s me that isn’t enough, never you,” you replied. “I need to show you something...if you’ll let me.” 

“What...?”

You cut Thorin off. “Please. It’ll make everything clear and you’ll understand.” 

Both of you exited the bed chamber in complete silence. Thorin followed on behind you, praying to Mahal that this was a huge misunderstanding and that you really were faithful to him. 

You finally reached your destination. it was one of the many worker’s rooms, specifically where instruments were hand crafted from metal and wood. 

Thorin stepped inside after you, apprehension swarming in his gut. 

“Oh, my King,” Hodel stuttered as he saw you both at the door. He reached for a cover and tossed it over something quickly so as Thorin could not see. 

“It’s alright, Hodel. Can you give the King and I a minute alone, please?” you asked politely. 

“Of course, my Queen,” Hodel replied, lowering his head and then he disappeared. 

You walked over towards the covered object. With your back still to Thorin, you spoke, “This was supposed to be for our two-year anniversary next week, my love. I designed it especially for you and had Hodel and his son begin making it for you, but they encountered a couple of problems and that was why it took longer than it should have.” 

With a sigh, you picked up the cover, only to show a bright, gold plated harp. The gold had been fully moulded into the form of runes and had the markings of the date of your marriage. “The strings still have to be attached...”

Thorin spun you around and you gasped as you hit him gently. You put your hands on his chest and his wound his arms around your waist. Tears were pouring down the King’s face. “Please don’t,” you said, wiping his red cheeks with your thumbs. Then you pressed your forehead to his. “It will only ever be you that has my heart. Trust in that.” 

***

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[aslitheryprinx]

I imagine Tommy gets caught after having like an argument with the others and running off, possibly out into the open when one of the beeduo sees him and calls the other over come look

More hilariously, just walks up to one or both of the giants, annoyed at having to sneak around and gets tired of it

Rising Tension

Things had been tense since they started secretly living in the giants' cave.

They could only eat what they managed to scavenge from their food stores, and none of them were used to eating so little. That and the stress made tempers short.

Phil had stopped laughing so often, and sounded exhausted whenever he spoke. Techno had gotten even quieter, and had started to completely ignore them for hours at a time.

But for Tommy, the change in Wilbur was the hardest to deal with. He was used to Wilbur getting into sulky moods. He was used to Wilbur teasing him and even mocking him. What he wasn't used to was Wilbur actually snapping at him.

Honestly, he'd just been trying to cheer Wilbur up. Usually when he turned up the dial on his annoying brother routine to 11, Wilbur would get irritated. He would bug Tommy back until it became a teasing match where they were both laughing. But this time, Wilbur didn't react like that.

"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me with your bullshit?" Wilbur snapped, and Tommy felt a pang of hurt at the legitimate anger in his brother's voice.

"I'm just trying to lighten the mood, man! Why do you have to be such a dickhead?" He said back, crossing his arms. Wilbur made a frustrated sound, and glared at him.

"I'm not in the mood for you acting like a fucking child! We're in danger, we don't have time for that!" Wilbur said.

"I'm not a fucking child! But I'd rather act like one than be having a baby tantrum like you!" He shot back.

"You acting like a child is what got us in this mess in the first place!" Wilbur yelled at him and Tommy's eyes burned. The anger was already fading from Wilbur's face. He went wide eyed, apparently realizing what he said. It didn't matter if he regretted it though, he'd still said it. That meant he believed it on some level, and that was enough to have Tommy's stomach plunging with guilt once more.

"Toms, wait-" he ignored his brother's call as he turned and ran off into the branching tunnels of their temporary home.

With not much else to do, Tommy had explored the caves pretty thoroughly. There was a small system of tunnels far too small for the giants to access that eventually opened up into the massive caverns the giants lived in. Tommy had mostly stayed away from those caverns, there was always a risk of running into one of the giants, but there was somewhere he wanted to go.

One of the tunnels was isolated from the rest. It could only be reached by going through the caverns, but the giants were asleep right now and he wanted to be alone.

He ran towards the caverns, slowing when he reached the opening. He walked carefully along the edges towards his intended hiding spot, wiping furiously at the tears that were spilling down his face.

Suddenly, there was movement above him. His pulse skyrocketed as he realized he wasn't alone. He only had time for a frightened yelp as massive fingers closed around him.

"Ha!" A booming voice cried. The fingers curled under him and lifted him up. Tommy realized it was the taller giant, Ranboo, who had just caught him. The giant kept talking as he was picked up, sounding very smug.

"No more scurrying around and nibbling at our food little... guy...?" Ranboo suddenly stopped as he raised Tommy up to his face. Tommy's heart pounded as he stared directly into the giants dual-colored eyes. Ranboo blinked.

"Uhhh… Hmm. You're… not a mouse." He looked and sounded completely baffled, which was better than him being angry. They obviously hadn't been as sneaky as they thought if the giants had noticed something eating from their food. Tommy just hoped that when Ranboo eventually realized that they- or he, since they didn't know about his family yet- was the one taking the food.

Ranboo'd expression suddenly morphed into one of concern. He touched a finger to the side of Tommy's face, and Tommy jumped.

"You were crying?" He said, sounding sympathetic. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Tommy stared at him in surprise. This was a lot different than he expected an encounter with a giant to be. There was a whole lot less fee-fi-fo and crushing him to death than he expected, and a lot more… worried mother-henning. He belatedly realized he hadn't answered the question when Ranboo looked a whole lot more worried.

"Oh god, you're hurt aren't you? Did I hurt you??? What if you can't even understand me? I don't know human languages!"

If he wasn't so overwhelmed, Tommy might've laughed at the frantic giant. All of his amusement faded though when Ranboo began walking. Tommy lost his balance and fell over in his hands.

"Tubbo! Tubbo, wake up!" He yelled and Tommy winced at the volume. A few seconds later, the other giant sat up, hair mussled. He looked a little irritated at being woken up.

"What, boss man?" He groaned, giving Ranboo a half-hearted glare.

Tommy yelped as he was suddenly thrust in the direction of the smaller giant. The giants eyes crossed to look at him, and Tommy retreated as he was suddenly seeing the giant from far too close.

"I thought I caught the mouse, but it was actually a human, and I think he's hurt- well I don't actually know but he could be, and what if he doesn't speak Common?" Ranboo babbled. Tubbo held up a hand.

"Calm down, Boo, you're catatroph, whatever the word was," Tubbo said. Tommy was suddenly poked by a finger and he yelped, then glared at the offending digit.

"Catastrophizing," Ranboo offered. "Is he hurt?" Tubbo poked at him again.

"Quit it!" Tommy snapped, not liking being poked at like he was a bug.

"He doesn't look hurt." Tubbo said doubtfully. "Are you hurt?" He directed at Tommy, who shook his head with a scowl.

"There, see, he's fine." Tubbo said. He sat up the rest of the way and rubbed his eyes. Looking more alert, he gave Tommy a measuring stare.

"Hang on," he said. "If there was no mouse… you're the one that's been messing with our food, aren't you?" Both of the giants stared down at him.

Tommy gulped, wilting under their combined attention. How was he going to get out of this one?

Part 2

[forever-rogue]

Hi!

Happy New Year! 😃 There’s so many to choose from but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one I wanted to pick.

Prompt #35 from Prompt List #2 - Frankie Morales

Thank you!

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.”

Ohhh, this is inch resting! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Reader ; warnings: pregnancy (and any and all things related to it), mentions of sex, drinking, smooches.

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No,” you sighed in frustration as you looked at the small white stick in your hands. It was a simple pregnancy test, but right now it felt like a ticking time bomb. You read over the singular word in frustration before tossing it onto the floor and watching as it skidded to a stop next to the bathtub. 

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. 

It couldn’t be right though, surely it had to be a false positive. But then...what about all the rest of the tests you had taken? All nine others were lined up on the counter, a testament to how determined you were to find out that you weren’t pregnant. But...could ten tests really be lying? What were the odds that all of them were false positives?

“Shit,” in a burst of anger you tossed them all off the counter and onto the floor, tears already running down your cheeks as you sank to the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? You were so careful every other time; you were on birth control and always made sure to have your partners use a condom. And yet...here you were. Pregnant and alone, crying on your bathroom floor. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest as you decided to get all your tears out then and there before making a plan. One way or another, something was going to need to happen - and as soon as possible hopefully. 

But then, as you sat there, crying and ignoring the incessant notifications on your going off on your phone, it hit you. 

Frankie. Francisco Morales. He’d been the last person you had sex with. 

Holy shit. No - there was no way. You couldn't be pregnant by your best friend that you'd secretly loved for years and had a drunken one night stand with. Absolutely not. Nope...that would be...the worst thing in the eternity of the universe. Some sort of vile joke that the universe would be playing on both of you. It couldn’t be him...no, no, no.

But...he was the last person you'd had sex with. And before then...it had been months since anyone else. Unless there was some sort of divine intervention on behalf of your uterus and you were some sort of abstinent Mary, Frankie Morales was the father of your baby. 

The baby - not your baby. Rather, the small peanut inside of you. Referring to it as anything else was too...real. It was just a baby - a maybe baby. One you weren’t even sure you’d keep, wanted, or would tell Frankie about. But...shit. You couldn’t not. It would come out somehow, if not now, then later, in a moment of indiscretion, or another drunken evening. You had to tell him...even if it was just to let him know what happened before you made some sort of decision. 

But what the hell were you supposed to tell him? Oh by the way, remember when we had sex two months ago? Yeah, well, I’m pregnant. 

You must have forgotten to take your birth control, and neither of you must have had enough sense to remember a condom. Or one of the two failed...or both. Either way it was a perfect storm that resulted in the worst possibility.

The worst part of all? 

Despite the upset and sheer terror you felt, there was a small part of you that wasn’t...entirely devastated. You’d never given much thought to children, having been perpetually single for the better part of the last decade, and hopelessly in love with your best friend. If there was a man that you wouldn't have minded children with, it would have been Frankie. He was a good man, always trying to be better, trying his best, and despite all the shit he’d been through in life, he still managed to have a soft, loving heart. He would have made a good father, that much you knew. 

But shit. He was only your best friend, and unlike you, he wasn’t deep in love. Would he even want a baby? A child he’d have what - half custody of while you had the other? It would never work, it wasn’t meant to be...it just...no. There was no way in hell this was going to work out. 

With that thought in your mind, you rested your head on your knees, crying and shaking as you tried to wrap your head around it all. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” you felt a soft touch on your arm as you heard your name being gently called, “hey, Bee...wake up.”

You opened your eyes, blinking away the dried tears and bleariness as you took in the face looking back down at you with a gentle smile. Momentarily forgetting your predicament, you offered him a smile of your own as he held out his hand to help you up to your feet. 

“Frankie,” you gave him a curious look, “what are you doing here? It’s not movie night or anything.”

“I’ve been calling and texting,” he nodded in the direction of your discarded phone, which was blinking at you with notifications, “you didn’t answer and I got worried. It’s not like you. I wanted to see if you were up for getting a drink tonight? The brewery’s got a new ale out.”

“I...umm,” you quickly remember your situation as a sense of panic set into your bones. The tests and discarded boxes were still all over the floor, one right next to your phone. He had to have seen them. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Frankie.”

“Yeah,” he said as he gave everything the once over. Another worry suddenly crossed your mind; you’d been drinking the last two months. Granted it hadn’t been anything crazy, just a beer here and there and a glass of wine on occasion, but still. Shit. He cleared his throat awkwardly as you scurried around to pick everything up. Ever the gentleman, he stepped into help, pausing slightly when he noticed all the positive tests, “you...ugh...you’re pregnant?”

“I-I guess,” you offered him the most neutral look you could muster up, “I just ugh...found out. It’s a bit of a surprise to me too.”

“Oh...you don’t…” he swallowed thickly as he nodded, more to himself than anything else as wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, “do you…”

“I don’t know a lot,” you cut him off before he could continue his line of questioning, “i didn’t really know I was...pregnant until I missed my period this month. I-I-I thought last month was a fluke but two months in a row is disconcerting. So I panicked and got some tests.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as you realized what you said. You might as well have told him then and there, “I thought you were…”

“I am,” you tried to cover up your own tracks, “I’m on birth control, so I’m also a little...surprised. I’m trying to keep calm, but in all honesty I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, Bee,” he promised softly as he gently put his hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek. It was hard not to melt into his touch and confess everything then and there, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever support you want, I’m here, every step of the way.”

“Frankie...I-I don’t know what to say…” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to break down in a fit of tears again. It would be better to get it out in the open now and to just say it and let him know and -

“Either I get to be the best fun uncle, or...I’ll be here for you either way,” he insisted with a smile small before pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. You were stunned into silence, but decided to let things happen, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest. 

You wouldn’t tell him now. But soon. You needed to. For your sake as well as his own.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an odd feeling, walking out of the doctor’s office, clutching a stack of papers with more information than you knew what to do with, including a set of grainy black and white images. You’d cried - as you’d often been doing lately - but somehow you weren’t upset. It had been about two weeks since your surprise discovery, and with each passing day, it became more real. 

You were still confused, more than you had ever been, but somehow you’d grown attached to the idea of the little bean that was inside of you. It was scary, more than anything else in life ever had been, but you...just...it was a lot. 

No you just needed to tell Frankie. 

It seemed like every time you’d tried, something or someone came up and interrupted, pulling his attention away or making it a most inopportune moment. But...shit. You couldn’t let this go much longer.

You’d tell him. Tonight. There was no doubt in your mind it was time to do it and then the pieces could fall wherever they landed and you’d figure it out. Keeping it from him just wouldn’t be fair, and you couldn’t imagine a world where you had this baby and Frankie only thought of himself of an uncle.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you walked into your apartment, ready to sit down and relax - and get yourself hyped to tell Frankie -  before he came over for your weekly movie night. 

But when you got in, your heart plummeted when you saw Frankie already in the kitchen, messing around with some snacks. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another two hours. 

“Bee,” he grinned at you when spotted you, excitedly pointing at the various treats he was setting out, “you’re just in time!”

“And you’re early,” you tried to make light of it as you walked in and set everything down on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“I know,” he grinned with a wink, “but I knew you’d be home soon, and wanted to do this for you. You’re dealing with a lot, and I just want to help however I can. How did it go? Did you get more information...what am I saying? Of course you did...how was it?”

“It was a lot,” you admitted, just like everything right now, “the doctor was really helpful and gave me so much information. But..ugh...the ba - it’s fine right now.”

“The baby?” he asked as you nodded, setting down the stack of papers, letting the sonogram images land on top, “you can call it a baby, Bee!”

“I know,” you huffed lightly with laughter at yourself, “it just...makes it feel so real. Calling it a baby. I dunno.”

“Bee’s having a baby...Baby Bee,” he said excitedly as he looked over your stack of papers, his soft brown eyes landing on the pictures, “maybe...a maybe Baby Bee…”

Before you could stop him, he reached for the sheet of images, bringing it up to his face as he furrowed his brows to study them closely. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he looked at them, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. You were so in love with this man, it was almost painful sometimes. And you here you were, having his baby and he didn’t know, he wasn’t yours...that bad it all that much harder. Before you knew it, tears were running down your cheeks, and a sniffle escaped your lips.

“Umm, F-Frankie…: you whispered softly as he looked at you with a concerned expression, “about the baby...i-i-it’s...it’s yours.”

He stiffened for a moment, a million different expressions crossing his features as he looked between you and the sonograms and back at you. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, all he could manage was a small, “what?”

“I-I know I should have told you sooner, right when I found out and you came in,” you were crying now, a blubbering mess, “I just couldn’t do it...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this...you’re the only one I’ve been with in almost a year and I-I-I know it was a one night drunken thing, and I thought we were careful but this...just happened. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s mine?” he asked softly as you nodded, watching as his eyes flicked to your still non-existent bump, “we’re having a baby? Together?”

“I-I know this isn’t what anything we expected,” you wiped at your eyes, “I-I don’t expect you to help or have anything to do with it, but I...I want to keep it…”

Frankie inhaled and exhaled deeply, setting the images back down before turning his attention to you. His gaze was on your face, eyes soft as ever before he closed the small distance between your bodies. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands found your face, touching it tenderly for a few moments, almost as if he was asking you for permission, which you readily granted, before crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply. 

And it felt so...perfect. So natural as his arms wrapped around your waist and you put yours around his neck and held him close. He didn’t let you go, reluctant to part his lips from yours for even a moment, only doing so when you were left dizzy and breathless. 

“I love you, Bee,” he whispered softly, chasing your lips with his own, “always you, for so long. It wasn’t supposed to be a one night stand, I just got so foolish and scared…”

“I love you, Francisco,” you promised, “you’ve been it for me for so long. I never thought…I never thought you would love me back. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.”

“You’ve been loved by me for so long,” he promised, “you never had to wonder. I should have told you sooner.”

“Now is good,” you grinned at him, your head spinning with everything that was going on, “now is perfect.”

“Bee,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, stopping at your lips, “and Baby Bee. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I am so in love with you.”

“I love you more than anything,” you ran a hand through his dark locks, a few tears already spilling down your cheeks again. He beamed at you, gently wiping them away, “but, Frankie...you’re okay...with the baby? Keeping the baby?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, his own eyes glistening with tears as he nodded, “yes. I want this...I’ve always wanted this. I want everything with you - you and only you.”

“Francisco…” you smiled, and just like that, you lit up his entire world, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he breathed you in, “my Bee and Baby Bee. What more could I ever ask for?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[helliontherapscallion]

A Surrealistic Life (Adrenaline Junkie Part 17)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, derealization, depression, grief, blood, mentions of death, nightmares, panic attacks

Word count: 3,385

                                          ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You cried in Philza’s arms for hours on end until you couldn’t cry anymore. Your head was left pounding and your throat scratchy from the loud crying, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore, without Arthur you were nothing. The past two and a half years just- just didn’t exist. Your mind was still reeling, the words ‘will you always be with me?’ echoing through your mind constantly filling you with guilt. 

With one last shuddering inhale, you separated yourself from Philza and wiped at the tears that had long since dried on your face. His eyes, vigilant as ever, scanned your form looking for any sign of distress. In his eyes, you saw pity and grief. This angered you, you didn’t need his pity; you were long past the point of pitiful glances. Well, you were, he wasn’t. 

You purse your lips as you watch his eyes flick between your wing and where your other wing was supposed to be. Sorrow flashes in his eyes before he looks back at you with a small, painfully fake smile. With one hand, he gently pushes your shoulder down back onto the bed and stands up. 

“I’ll be back, you get some rest.” 

With the slightest hint of a nod, you watched as he lingered in the doorway before hesitantly walking out of your room. After he left your room, you locked the door behind him. That door remained locked for weeks on end, every knock or attempt at conversation was never answered by you. Their words were nothing but background noise in the back of your mind. 

Instead of responding, you would lay in bed staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes thinking about nothing but everything you’ve lost. Only occasionally you would leave your room to attend to your most basic needs when you were sure that everybody was asleep or out of the house. 

The days meshed together as your thoughts consume you in a whirlwind of unorganized messes. Several times, you’ve worked yourself into panic attacks and paranoia filled spiraling because you didn’t know what was real anymore. 

Being left alone with your thoughts was something that you always avoided by constantly tinkering with contraptions, your thoughts wandered off to places that greatly disturbed you. But now, you let those thoughts wash over you without a care. Your dreams reflected this; they were plagued with images of Arthur looking up at you with large puppy dog eyes and a large smile before he would be sucked into darkness screaming for you to help him, to do anything, but you were always glued in place leaving you to watch helplessly as he left you over and over again. 

Another common one you would have is Arthur getting lost in a bellowing snowstorm in the dead of night. You would be wandering through thick snow calling his name until you would come across a small, pale hand peeking out of an abnormal lump of snow; dread would always fill you during those dreams, it was a parent’s worst nightmare to lose their child.

Other dreams, though very rare, would be pleasant; whether they were about you and Arthur whistling a small tune as you both invented something or a small picnic on the cliff laughing freely into the air, you would always wake up in the mornings prepared to greet him and cook breakfast with him. It wasn’t until you moved your right arm and found that it had limited mobility that you realized that everything was a dream.

You hated those dreams, they always gave you a false sense of hope that everything was okay. Nothing is okay, absolutely nothing. 

You refused to believe that… whatever was going on didn’t happen; Philza had said that the last few years had been fake, something that your mind had made up as some form of coping mechanism, but who’s to say that this isn’t a hallucination as well? Both your experiences felt completely different from each other, this reality could be the hallucination for all you knew. 

The only thing on your mind was how you needed to get back to Arthur in any possible way you could. If Arthur didn’t exist in this reality, you didn’t want to be in it. You need him and he needs you, you didn’t want to imagine a reality without him. If you got yourself into this by dying, perhaps that was your ticket back to him. Perhaps there was a way to reverse this. 

You were going to get your son back, and you were going to die trying. 

Until then, you just have to wait out your family. They’d just stop you in the end and you couldn’t have that. You’d have to put on an act that you were perfectly fine and that would entail inventing everything over again, but you were fine with that; if you made it once, you can make it again. 

With a newfound sense of purpose, you searched your closet for your old cloak but then you remembered you got your cloak weeks after your first death. Groaning to yourself, you settled for your old bomber jacket. The slits in the back of it wouldn’t cover your nub, so you awkwardly tucked it underneath the fabric of the cloth. It shot pain down your spine, but you shook it off; the pain was something you could handle, you’ve had worse. 

Without another thought, you quietly left your room with only one destination in mind. 

--------------------------------------------------

You softly padded down the basement stairs towards your workshop. When you arrived at the bottom of the stairs, you paused and looked around. The walls that were once covered with sloppy sketches and words written in two different handwritings, both equally as messy and rushed, were barren for the most part; you forgot that the walls were painted an off white color. Your filing cabinets were gone, replaced with cardboard boxes containing old clothes and toys with thick layers of dust sitting peacefully on top of them. The crafting table sat in the corner of the room wasn’t worn, in fact it looked brand new, not a scratch could be seen on the surface. 

Everything was wrong. 

You numbly walked over to your desk and picked up the paper that laid on it, holding it up to the light. It was the first draft to your TNT launcher. The sight of the crude, minimal sketches made you cringe, it was far too messy; you had no idea how you could make out what your sloppy handwriting pointed to or what materials were supposed to go where. 

You dropped the paper and let it flutter to the floor without a care. Your eyes flickered over the desk and eyed the notebook sitting on top of a stack of spare papers. A spark of hope ignited inside of you, this was the notebook Arthur so often doodled in with different ideas of what could be invented. 

You snatched it and flipped the front cover over with haste. A wide smile stretched your lips when you caught sight of the small handwriting that littered the page. It was yours, but you had given it to Arthur so that he could learn and copy from your early years. It was perfect for a blueprint template, neat and organized. 

However as you flipped through the book, your smile dropped and the little hope that flared in your chest was snuffed out. You stared at the blank page as frustration built up inside of you. Before you knew it, you threw the notebook at the opposite wall as hard as you could. You were left standing in the middle of the cold basement with your chest heaving and your teeth gritted. 

Everything was so wrong. So, so wrong. 

You heard footsteps thunder down the stairs before they came to a stop behind you. Hesitant footsteps made their way over to you, you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. 

“(Y/n)? Is everything-”

“Nothing is okay, Tommy,” you gritted out, “absolutely nothing about this is okay.” 

He said nothing as he walked around you and put his hand on your clenched fist, his fingers curling around yours and opening your hand. Your palm stung slightly as you glanced down at it. Four small, crescent shaped cuts were imprinted on your skin slowly starting to glisten with blood. 

Huffing, you ripped your hand out of his grasp and glanced at his face. You caught yourself doing a double take as you saw just how innocent he looked. No sign of hidden pain in his shining blue eyes, no scars littering his skin, and the bags that once made him look years older was nonexistent. He was your annoying, gremlin of a little brother again. He was Tommy again. 

You watched as his eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted slightly, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

“No reason,” you breathed out before you shook your head trying to rid your mind of your frustrations, “no reason at all…”

He awkwardly coughed and nodded slightly, “right…”  

You cleared your throat and glanced off to the side at the book laying on the floor. Tommy’s eyes followed where you were looking and went to pick it up. You felt a twinge in your heart as he started to flip through it much like you did earlier. He looked up at you with furrowed brows, “why’d you throw this? What’d the book do to you?” He jokingly asked you. 

“It didn’t do anything and that’s the problem,” you mumbled out before you snatched the book out of his hands and tossed it into the trash can. 

“Why are you acting so weird? I know you just died and all, but you never let that notebook out of your sight and now you’re just tossing it into the bin!” Tommy fished it out of the trash can and haphazardly placed it back onto your desk on top of the stack of unused paper. You could feel your eye twitch at it’s placement before you threw it away again. 

“Leave it there, I don’t want it. I won’t need it anymore anyways,” you murmured under your breath. 

“Why wouldn’t you need it- wait, don’t tell me you’re quitting working with redstone. Cuz I’ll have you know that you’re going to be the best goddamned inventor this gods forsaken world has ever known and-”

“I’m not going to quit,” you interrupted him, “trust me, I’ll need whatever I can make. I just… don’t need it anymore, I already know exactly what I need to make.” I can’t stand the sight of Arthur’s notebook so empty and blank your mind supplied yourself. 

He tilted his head slightly, “even without the bluepri-”

“Even without the blueprints,” you curtly nodded and automatically turned to look at the bulletin board hanging above your desk only to sigh when you once again saw that it was barren. “I made these things thousands of times before, I know what I’m doing,” your gaze zeroed in on the half finished blueprint for your automatic crossbow, “I’ll just make them again.” 

Tommy once again looked at you with furrowed brows and inquisitive eyes, you could just see the curiosity and confusion swimming around in his baby blue orbs, “what do you mean, you literally only have one prototype of everything on here.” 

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, so just drop it.” You hadn’t meant to snap at him like that, but the frustration was just too overwhelming to ignore. Just as you could see him start to get dejected from the corner of your eye, you made quick work of changing the subject.

“You know, I could hear what you said when I wasn’t awake. I really appreciated the music, it was a nice change of pace.”

He tensed before his eyes were drawn to the empty space over your shoulder. His breath hitched slightly as a sorrowful look appeared in his eyes. Looking back at you, he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you into a tight hug. You didn’t struggle against him despite your frustrations, you knew he needed you right now. You could still remember how broken he was when you were unconscious. The way his lip wobbled slightly before he hugged you reminded you of Arthur. 

You gently hugged him back and wrapped your wing around him. He gripped you tighter, his breath shuddering as wetness started to hit your head. You said nothing as you started to hum and run your fingers along his back tracing out patterns without a particular one in mind. 

Eventually, he pulled away from you and chuckled sardonically, wiping his tears away with a fist, “you’re the one who died and I’m the one being comforted. Gods, it’s pathetic.” 

“It’s okay to feel emotions, Tommy. You should never bottle them up, it sounded like you needed a good hug anyways. I’m happy to give you that,” you softly told him.  

He said nothing as he crossed his arms and shifted on his feet, avoiding your gaze. For a moment, your tall brother was replaced by a short, red haired boy wearing that same expression. You purse your lips in thought, your previous frustrations completely gone and replaced with an urge to comfort him or at least distract him. Though a deep sadness dragged your body down at the thought of Arthur, Tommy just reminded you too much of him. It was eerily uncanny in your opinion.

Ideas swarmed your head as you thought back to how you comforted Arthur when he fell down. Besides talking to him, you would always teach him something; knowledge to Arthur is- was like a sponge absorbing water. It gave him a distraction to whatever got him down, maybe that would work for Tommy as well. 

Wordlessly, you walked over to your desk and gestured for him to follow you. You plopped him into your office chair and pulled one of the cardboard boxes up to the desk. In the process, you grabbed your gloves, goggles, and everything you would need to set up a simple timed piston. The smallest spark of happiness flashed inside you as you saw that your resources were fully stocked. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Well, Tommy, I’m going to show you how to set up one of my favorite redstone mechanisms. Put these on,” you handed him the gloves and goggles and watched as he put them on. The goggles were a bit small on him, but besides that, everything fit him. 

“Now, you’re going to want to…”

--------------------------------------------------

Hours passed as you both worked together on the contraption. Slowly, you could see Tommy loosening up and making more jokes, successfully distracted. However, you didn’t expect yourself to follow suit. Laughter came easier to you whenever Tommy would joke around, your troubles long forgotten. 

It took a little longer than you were used to, but eventually Tommy started to follow along with the precision you’d expect from a beginner. Slowly but surely, with many mistakes along the way, there was a working piston system sitting on the desk. 

Tommy triumphantly laughed into the air as he watched the pistons work in tandem with one another. You laughed alongside him and ruffled his hair, “nice job, Artie! I knew you could do it!” 

Tommy completely stopped and looked at you in confusion, “‘Artie’? Who’s that?” 

You completely froze in place, you hadn’t meant to call him Artie. He was Tommy, he was your blond little brother, not your ginger son. Tommy was his own person, he was Tommy, not Arthur. You mentally scolded yourself for constantly mixing the two up. 

“Artie is- well, he’s just… Arthur is my old friend,” you stammered out after tripping over your words clumsily. Tommy couldn’t find out about Arthur, nobody could. That’d just ruin your plan. 

He snorted, “sure, ‘old friend’. You know, if Dad finds out that you’re dating someone he’d ground you for life.” 

“I’d never date anybody, you know that,” you scolded him with your nose wrinkled in disgust. “He’s just an old friend and you remind me of him.”

“Well, old friend or not, he sounds amazing if I remind you of him!”

You smiled sadly as your mind flashed to images of Arthur at various points in his life, “he really was, you would’ve loved him, Tommy. He might’ve been the best person I’ve ever met.” 

“Why don’t you tell me about him? I can preen your wings-” Tommy abruptly stopped himself and looked like he’d just accidentally kicked a puppy, looking at you with wide eyes and red tinted cheeks. 

Just as he started opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, you chuckled at his expression, “you’re fine, Tommy. It’s just going to take some time for you to get used to this,” you shifted your wing and cringed at the uncomfortable feeling. You haven’t preened your wings since before you left for the cave nearly two months ago, and your wing was a mess of bent and loose feathers. “I’d… actually like a good preening, are you sure you know how to do it?” 

“Please,” he scoffed before pushing you to sit down in your desk chair, “I’ve seen you and Dad do it to each other thousands of times, I think I know what I’m doing.” 

“That isn’t how that- you know what? Just go ahead. Make sure you get any loose feathers and straighten them out,” you stretched your wing out and hoped for the best. Tommy surprisingly did a decent job of straightening out feathers, he just had to work on distinguishing loose feathers from intact feathers (you were now missing a couple of smaller feathers). 

The entire time, you were telling him how amazing your boy was. Sure, you might’ve overexaggerated just a little bit, but Arthur was certainly someone that deserved the praise. That kid was something else, truly a prodigy at both redstone and compassion. Leaving out the fact that Arthur was your adopted son and that he was ten years old was a little hard, but you managed to avoid that. 

You could tell that Tommy knew something was different about you, but you guessed that he just assumed the changes were because of your death and not because you were technically two and a half years older than you physically are. 

When he was done, you looked at your wing and you were pleasantly surprised at how well he did; sure there were a few loose feathers and they were partially crooked, but you could tell that Tommy did his best with them. 

“Thanks, Toms,” you smiled at him after you tucked your wing back in, “I really appreciate you doing that, it was starting to bother me.”

“It’s no problem,” he puffed out his chest in pride, “I told you I knew what I was doing.” 

“And I’m sorry for ever doubting you. Who knows, maybe Dad’ll let you do his wings next.” 

“Oh gods no,” Tommy shuddered slightly, “his are massive and he has two of them! If doing yours took me an hour and a half, I’d hate to see how long it’d take me to do his.” 

You cringed, remembering the last time you preened his wings. Though you were experienced, it had taken you two full hours for each wing. “Yeah, his wings are huge. Gods, I hope my wing doesn’t get to be that size.” Though they grew to be nowhere near Philza’s wingspan when you were in that reality, you weren’t sure if yours was going to be larger or smaller than what they were. 

Just as Tommy was about to open his mouth to respond to you, Wilbur’s voice echoed down the stairwell, “Tommy, dinnertime!” 

“Well c’mon then, let’s go. I’ll race you there,” was all Tommy said to you before he bolted up the stairs with a booming laugh, skipping every third step. You could feel your heart stop when he almost tripped on one of the stairs because he skipped too many. Rushing after him, you shouted at him, “Tommy, walk! You’re going to break your neck if you keep running up and down the stairs!”

                                         ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

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[oikadori]

a/n: not me crying at 2am about an Oikawa edit, that was my twin sister not me at all...this is totally self indulgent so uhm...yeah. Hope you enjoy it tho!!

edit: i'm so sorry for reposting again but i really feel that the best exposure is int the first hours let's hope this time it stays 😔

Oikawa Tooru x fReader

Summary: in which you are tired of hearing how is never enough for Oikawa Tooru.

Genre: angst, fluffy end tho, established relationship

Now playing ⊳ King by Lauren Aquilina ; Next to me by Imagine Dragons

WC~2k

It had become part of your routine at this point, sitting on the couch for hours, staring bluntly at some program as you wait for your boyfriend to come home.

It was not the passion he has for volleyball that has you on a gloomy mood today. It was  not falling asleep on an empty bed as you heard the sounds of balls hitting the wooden floor coming from the speakers of his laptop in the living room, and it was not how  your throat becomes dry after you begged him to sleep.

But you were tired, that is the only way to express it, tired of feeling your heart clench at the way he neglects himself, at this point you didn’t even care if he neglected you, which wasn’t the case, but him.

Your phone always got texts from him, asking if you had breakfast, if you had lunch or simply saying a hello. He called you before coming home offering you to bring some sweet from that store you liked so much. But, when you asked him if he had a good lunch, those tests always seemed to get lost in his inbox.

Oikawa always gave you a smile as the same words came out of the lips that kissed you every morning.

“Don’t you want me to be the best, my love?”

That simple phrase always seemed to wrap your heart in a death cold no matter the sweetness in his tone, they made impossible for you to come with an argument that would make Oikawa’s stubborn head understand. Understand that he was slowly tearing himself up and hurting you in the process.  

However, none of that is what had you sitting on the couch right now, arms crossed over your chest and lips pressed together, but as soon as Oikawa crossed the door, he knew the exact reason.

“Y/N-chan? I thought you were going out with your friends today”, he drops the bag on the ground, the keys of your shared apartment hitting the floor in the process, “Shit”

Your eyes are trained on the way his face contorts as he reaches for the keys, making your heart sink.

“Anyways, how are you, cutie?”, Oikawa stands in his full height before displaying a closed-eye smile at you.

However, his trademark grin fades as he sees your brows furrowing together, the air suddenly charging with the accumulated tension.

“Is there something w–“

“You tell me”, when you look at his knee with inquiring eyes, Oikawa blinks before turning his face away from you.

“It is nothing”, his mouth twitches down, “I’m fine”

‘no you are not’

His answer only makes you sigh loudly as your mind goes back to the early hours of today, the scene that made your chest sting popping out.

Oikawa had kissed your forehead like every other  morning before mumbling a brief goodbye, he chuckled lightly at the way you babbled some sort of greet and  he walked to the door like every other day but he failed to notice how your eyes opened and gazed at him.

His eyes widened as he felt the burn on his right leg, not knowing you were watching in horror the way his knee falters, causing his leg to tremble before giving in to gravity. He held onto the handle tightly, gritting his teeth to capture the whine that threatened your sleep. However, when he turned around, he founded your half-closed eyes fixated on him, but before you could say anything, he rushed away hoping your mind was clouded enough with tiredness to forget about it.

“How long?”, you ask, standing up slowly and moving towards him.

“I don’t know, what–”

“When started hurting this bad?”

His gaze fixes on the ground, his fists clamp together, annoyance bubbling up in his stomach. He knows what’s coming, he has heard that discourse way too many times to not know how this conversation will go.

“Since always Y/N!”, he cries out almost in pain, his hair moving violently matching with his gestures, the gap in your mouth mirrors the shock in you.

“You need a break Tooru…”

“So they can found someone better? No, thank you”, he lets out a dry laugh as he looks down at you.

“What is the point if you end up not being able to walk without limping??!!”, your voice falters at the end as you picture him holding onto the handle for stability, “You are out of control…”

Oikawa’s nails dig into his palm as he frowns, eyes narrowing at you with dangerous intensity.

“As if you knew…” , the sharpness in his voice makes nothing but press the wound in your heart furthermore.

“Of course, I know, damn it! Tooru you are barely sleeping! I don’t know if you’re even eating properly since we almost never have any meal together!”

And then as if your words had hit the right nerve inside the setter, Oikawa snaps, the look he shoots at you makes your movements halt and your voice dissolves into silence. He was tired and frustrated but ultimately scared and the fact you couldn’t see how scared he was, only frustrates him more.

“No, you don’t know a fucking thing! I need to get better!!”

“Tooru you are their regular setter already!”, you scream at him your face getting red with anger as your tone fades into a bare whisper, “Nothing is enough for you, isn’t it?!”

Oikawa knew that the question itself wasn’t entirely related to his volleyball career. The pleading look you give him and the tremble in your lips tells him that you are not only referring to the all the medals and recognitions but about your relationship itself.

You were asking him if you weren’t enough for him…And maybe you weren’t.

“No!”, the word comes out rushed, his thoughts getting more and more clouded by frustration. You grit your teeth when Oikawa places a hand on his forehead as if he had a bad headache, as if you were the cause of the annoying hammering,

“You are so selfish…can’t you see all what you ha–”, your voice comes in low hiss and before you can finish he lets out a loud groan as the keys in his hand fly across the room landing with a loud thud against your living room table, making you flinch.

“Why can you just let me do what I have to? Is it too much for your head to understand?!”, he shouts, and you feel a sting in your chest, your eyes almost seem to fall from your face and your breath stops as you see how your boyfriend’s face contorts in malice.

“I could pick any of those girls who wait for me after the matches, you know?  I could have any of them and they wouldn’t be as half as annoying as you!”

Oikawa’s chocolate orbits are piercing at you in anticipation when he catches the redness saturating your eyes, causing his heart to drop to the ground.

“I–“

“Go, pick a nobody who only wants to fuck with you,” you try your best to not flinch, but the venom in his words make a silent tear to roll down your cheek, “because I’m not staying to watch how you destroy yourself”

You walk past him, brushing his shoulder roughly, your steps to the door are so fast, he doesn’t get a chance to even try to reach for your hand.

The slam of the door makes a feeling of anguish settle on his chest. His feet move subconsciously to the door when a loud groan leave his lips, the pain on his knee makes his whole body shiver as he falls apart a meter away of the handle.

“Shit, shit, shit”, he whines as he manages to move his body until his back is leaning against the door, his hand travels to his pocket, desperately pulling out his phone, a pout cross his features when your name pops on his recent calls. The phone rings and rings but no answer comes, when the small device turns off, he feels himself growing numb.

And the minutes turn into hours, the night wrapping the city as Oikawa rests against the door.

Oikawa had never felt this desperate, the pain in his knee is unnoticeable compared to the ache swelling in his chest. One call, one message, anything that would let him know that you are safe, that is all he needs right now.

“What did you do for her to stay with you?”, Iwaizumi’ words ring in his ears, “You are lucky Oikawa”

He was lucky indeed, his head drops to the back, hitting the wood, his breath falters as tears stream down his face until they turn into uncontrollable sobs, the sting on his knee and the guilt mixing painfully together.

Suddenly, the door pushes his body to the side, hitting the back of his head causing him to grunt.

“Tooru?”, his eyes widen, he turns immediately to encounter your still glassy eyes gazing down at him in confusion, “What are you doing on the floor?”

Your voice is stoic however it is music for Oikawa’s ears, he quickly brushes the tears away from his face as he tries to stand up, a hiss slipping his throat.

“Oh god, Tooru!”, you quickly leave the store bag you are carrying and bend down to support him, “I bought some–

“I’M SO SORRY Y/N!! I-I DIDN’T MEAN TO–“, he groans as you try to lift him up but your small figure can’t do much to move the former captain of Seijoh, so you just drop him carefully back on the floor and kneel in front of him, “P-Please don’t leave…”

Your silence makes his heartbeat pace faster and he grabs your hands tightly, his gaze fixes on yours and you notice the fear his orbits hold. You have never seen him this vulnerable and your eyes don’t fail to show your surprise.

“Please don’t leave me Y/N-chan“, your lips press softly over his own before he says anything else, Oikawa’s brows furrow together as he squeezes your hands gently, sighing, relived.

“You should get someone better–”, he says,

“You are probably right”, you sigh, “you did hurt me, but– I guess I just love you that much”, he loses himself in the softness of your voice and tears threaten to come out again.

“I truly admire how hard you work but you have to take care of yourself Tooru–“,his glassy eyes look at you, still not able to believe you’re here, next to him, you bit your lip before cupping his cheek, “–you might not be the king of volleyball yet, but for what it is worth, you’re the king to me”

You blush violently but not even as close as the flustered red that tints Oikawa’s features, he leans in hesitantly to claim your lips and you both melt in the kiss.

He never thought such words would made him feel so complete and he realizes that all he ever needed was you by his side.

“Not gonna lie, I was hoping you’d say, ‘you are the king of my heart’ or something like that”

“I-Can’t you just take the stupid compliment?”, he chuckles with a husky tone but suddenly stops, he places a hand on your cheek his thumb making soothing circles over your flushed skin.

“Thank you”

“Uh?”

“For giving me another chance”, your knees start to sore from kneeling on the floor but you can’t move as his chocolates eyes stare into your own brimming with emotion, “I love you so much, I’m so sorry Y/N”

“If so, stop overworking yourself, okay?”

Your fingers tangle with his brown locks as he whispers a silent yes, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping your torso tightly as if he was still scared you fade away.  

Oikawa doesn’t  have a  throne, but he’ll proudly wear the title you gave him, and he’ll do his best the be worthy of the crown that comes with it.

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