#i made this in Like. way more time than its should’ve taken

[lamentfulwarbler]

Dazai never bothered to unfollow after leaving the mafia and Mori keeps forgetting to block him

[sun-snatcher]

If you're writing for dp3 then Hiraeth from your prompt list would work SO well since they're all stuck in the void! 🤲🏽😭 We need Gambit fics its a DROUGHT HELP

♧ ⎯ LUCK O’ THE DRAW !

summ. You find the Devil himself at the end of the world. Surprisingly, it isn’t the first time you have. It is, however, the first time it hurts. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established relationship. Kinda. Multiverse be funky like 'dat.) w.count. 1.8k a/n. Because Channing deserved that Gambit all those years ago, and I've come to (attempt to) deliver what the the people have asked. Masterlist here.

MOST PEOPLE MEET THE DEVIL at a crossroads, but you meet yours in— quite literally— the back end of fuckin’ nowhere.

It hurt more than it should.

Your heart practically stutters. 

“Remy.”  

Then he turns, and you wait for the flash of recognition in his eyes.

Nothing comes.

And then. And then.

Realisation— logic. The cold, hard truth: This isn’t your Remy LeBeau. Your Remy had died long before, in a Universe that was pruned and erased into nothingness by the TVA. Your Universe. The joke? That the Gambit before you is merely a variant amongst a million. The punchline? He looks exactly the same as the day you’d lost your own. 

“Well, this is awkward. You know off-shoot Hawkeye here?” Wade says, astonished, before his eyes widened. “Ah. Tragic exposition time for the readers, I see.”

Your mind is still reeling. It feels like someone’s just jammed a chisel straight into your gut. “I— Knew a version. Variant, I guess,” you manage to correct yourself, distracted by the skirting trenchcoat and the all too familiar sound of shuffling cards. 

Christ, it’s like he’d stepped right out of your memories.

Remy’s eyebrows shoot up as he studies you. Something in your chest pulls taut, threatening to snap as he speaks. “Apologies, mon ami. But as far as I remember, I ain’t never seen you before.”

“Ouch,” Wade winces, looking between you both. “What a classic trope! This is like, me talking to my past Mom in The Adam Project. Funnily enough, my Mom was you!” He snorts, pointing to Elektra. 

You ignore Wade and offer Remy a wan smile. “I figured. It’s okay.”

…It is obviously, in fact, not okay. 

You avoid him like a plague shortly after the entire commotion; it’s almost comical. Wade had managed to come up with a plan with the rest of the group, albeit a ramshackle, flimsy one, but you’ve hardly been able to pay attention through the bloodrush of shock rocketing in your head, anyway. 

Being around this Remy is stunningly stifling. 

The lilt of his accent, the sharpness in his smile; the flourishing of cards and the faint hum-drum of kinetic charge against his fingertips. 

You’ve seen it all before, once upon a time. You never thought any of it could ever bring you to this bad of a heel. 

It hadn’t taken long before you’d tried drowning yourself at the end of a bottle of brandy Logan had handed you that night. (The whiskey tames his mordance and makes him uncharacteristically civil. He’d said something along the lines of: Y’need this more than I do, bub; look like you’ve just seen a fuckin’ ghost. Shit, I guess you did, huh? )

“Mais la,” comes a huff. “Ain’t that mine?”

A frisson runs through your heart. 

“Sorry,” you say, barely glancing up from the barrel fire tucked outside the team’s hideout. You’re not quite sure you can handle meeting his gaze. “I know I should’ve asked.”

A playful hum. Remy settles on the log adjacent to yours. “S’alright. No harm done, chèr.”

It takes everything in you not to flinch at the endearment. If he’d noticed, well— he’s smart enough not to mention it. He’s curious and it stands to reason; afterall, he’s never quite seen someone look at him as weathered as the way you do. It’s as if the effort itself to do so would be unbearable.

“Y’kno’, I been told I’m easy on the eyes. Not for you, tho’, eh?” Remy shoots you an amicable smile. It’s charming, if a little compelling. “Guessin’ I made bad on you where y’from? You done been boudéin’ since y’first got here.” 

You let out a laugh. It’s the most brittle sound he’s ever heard come from someone. 

“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s… You just make me a lil’ homesick, is all.”

Remy bristles with his deck of cards. A Charlier cut; a One-handed shuffle. It’s a mindless tic; your variant used to do the exact same with the exact same ease.

(Such a miracle, you remember thinking once, that there could be symmetries in the Multiverse. Now you learn, perhaps, it’s far more a curse. Either way, you can hear Remy’s doting voice in a distant memory, dimpling coyly at you: “S’just the luck o’ your draw, chèr.” )

You tamp down the memory before it could sink its jowls any deeper in you. 

“You’re curious,” you say.

He makes a noise of assent. Revolution cut; One-handed shuffle. Repeat.

“I ain’t gon’ axe if y’ain’t wanna answer.” 

It’s kind of him. 

You forgot he was like this.

Witty, yet gentlemanly. The way Remy always has been.

Underneath the blanket of the night, the crackle of the flames limn the planes of his face in flickering, hazy saffron. The look in his eyes is sincere as they meet your red-rimmed gaze. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him, and in this light no less: tall, cutting, strong.

Lively.

The last you’d seen Remy, he’d been drawn out and battered by the war. Not that he’d ever admit it; he always insisted on keeping up his sunny disposition despite the constant losing battles happening. (Sometimes you think you resent him for doing that; it’d felt like he’d taken the light of the world with him when—)

You thank your lucky stars the variant Remy doesn’t make a comment on how you must be staring so openly. It’s a feeble attempt to committing every detail to memory, you suppose, in case you don’t get the chance again.

“In my Universe, a war was waging against mutants.” Your nails tinker against the empty bottleneck of the flat whiskey you’d nursed, thinking of how to cut a bloodshed of a story short; to get your point across before you falter and lose your footing.

“There was a mission sanctioned, and during it— a decision had to be made at that moment. So… you chose. Easily.” Your brows pinch tight against your will. The molten burn returns to the back of your eyes. “You saved so many lives the day you died.” 

Something catches in your throat when you realise your mistake, find yourself amending instantly, “He. He died.”

(It had been swift. A small mercy, all things considered. There wasn’t even a need to check for a pulse when you finally managed to reach for him.)

You’re fidgeting, too, with something in your other hand. Remy catches sight of it only now: a card, sitting pinched between your ringed fingers. Nine of Hearts. Its edges are torn and creased across the face, singed an ashen black. 

A proverbial piece of Remy’s heart, carried to the end with you.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a cold rush over his body at the sight. 

“…I’m sorry, chèr,” he offers quietly, inadequate as it is. He hadn’t expected that. 

He can’t imagine how haunting it must be to look at someone you’d shared a lifetime with and be met with a complete stranger instead. 

A living, breathing, ghost.

That unbiddable feeling of longing had always seemed to accompany the sight of him; but now it’s different. Now, there’s a blistering, brutal pain to come with; All-encompassing grief, thick as molasses in your lungs, overturning itself like a phantom from wherever you thought you’d buried it a long time ago. 

The only way to smother it would be to reach out, to hold him like you had once before, and isn’t that an ironic inconvenience? 

“No, no. I’m sorry,” you tell him, sigh coming out as an awkward laugh. A breeze passes and you inhale deep to ground yourself. Press your eyes shut momentarily to will away useless tears. “It must be so weird to hear all of this from me about— well, you, technically.”

“Mais, can’t ‘ave all been a bad memory, tho’, right?”

Right. No. It hadn’t been. There’s something else too. An undercurrent. Beyond the grief, the deep ache in your marrows— you think it’s nostalgia. Hiraeth. More bittersweet than it is painful.

It’s… It’s watching mutant schoolkids teaching him UNO for the first time. It’s the bickering over the beignets for breakfast, or your feet on his lap at the couch in the lounge after dinners with the rest of the X-Men. Lazy banter. Conversations that go everywhere and nowhere.

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling something bloom in your chest you thought long lost. “You taught me everything about your home, too. Down South. Told me about the bayou, the cypress trees. Your Cajun, your ways. We used to play Bourré.”

Talk of home has him ducking into a laugh. Remy had been in the Void far longer than the rest (he figures, at least)— he’s very nearly lost most of his fragmented memories to time by now. “Did I? Oughta’ play a game or two wit’ you.”

You buckle at that. “Ah. You were always the better player.”

Then:

He makes the leap before he runs out of steam. “Was we…?”

His finger darts between the space you two share.

“Oh, no,” you override, sheepishly. “No, we, we were good friends and stayed good friends. I was—” Your breath scurries; a reconsideration. “I was glad with that. You had a Southern belle named Anna Marie. A powerful mutant called Rogue. You two were good for each other.”

You must have given yourself away somewhere, though, the way Remy is reading you with a pinned gaze. It’s the same, levelled look you’ve seen before— the kind he gets in a game of cards. 

Something discerning eclipses in his eyes.

He’d gotten the measure of you in an instant. 

“Gambit musta’ been blind blind not t’see you.”

Ah.

You smile. It’s windswept. Resigned. “Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? My Gambit’s gone. No matter how much I wish I can see him again.”

Remy’s eyes dart to your hands.

“Y’kno’, chèr,” he begins, something spirited in his tone. “In the world of cards, each a’ these and they suits hold a meanin’.”

He flourishes his deck, hypnotisingly smooth with every elegant cut, fan and spring. Every shuffle cascades as smooth as liquid in the sleight of his hands.

“Some of my folks back in New Orleans I remember, they learned me to read ‘em. Now, outta the whole deck? What you got there; the Nine of Hearts is also called the Wish card.”

The small laugh that punches out of you is bell-like. “Really?” 

It’s warm. Bright. Musical to his ears. It washes over him, and he can’t help but hang on to the peal. He wanted to hear it again. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Remy clicks his tongue as he shoots you a sunny look. “Would never lie t’you, chèr.”

The cracks in your soul don’t disappear, but they surely lighten as you look gently at him. “Huh. Well, I guess I got my wish, didn’t I?” 

He chuckles. 

“Mais, I ain’t your Gambit but—” 

He leans. Reaches out behind your ear with an empty palm, playfully revealing a gilded card from seemingly thin air with a sharp flick of his wrist:

Another Nine of Hearts. His. He hands it over to you, by way of meaning—  I’m here, now.

New beginnings.

You take the card with a smile.

[pathologicalreid]

in sickness and in health | S.R.

Minutes before your wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet, and you have to find out why.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (a smidge angsty) content warnings: alzheimers, weddings, children, babies, sad!spencer, reader wears a dress and makeup, cursing word count: 1.8k a/n: so this became sadder than I had initially intended. also i decided to try something new and write in a different POV and i don't know if i like it. this is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' new beginnings challenge, because nothing says new beginning quite like getting married! thank you for having this challenge!

If it were up to you and Spencer, your wedding would’ve taken place at a courthouse with no fuss, just rings and a certificate. Especially after he shot down your idea of a 24-hour wedding chapel in Las Vegas.

In your defense, you pitched it to him as an intimate wedding in his hometown, but he didn’t take the bait.

But when the team found out that the two of you were planning what they deemed unsuitable, they all volunteered to help throw together a ceremony and reception. Everyone was under the duress of Penelope at the time, but they all volunteered.

She could be very formidable when she wanted to.

Your now maid of honor’s eyes were shimmering as she carefully adjusted some of the last few strands of hair upon your head, you had managed to talk her out of a tiara, but to Penelope Garcia, a veil was non-negotiable. “You look gorgeous,” she says, “the perfect bride.”

Laughing uncomfortably, you turn to look at yourself in the full-length mirror and take a deep breath, “Thank you, Pen.”

“I know I may have slightly nudged you in the direction of a bigger wedding-“

“More like punted,” you interrupt, an affectionate smile on your face.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned over to grab her buzzing phone on the velvet chair in your ready room. “Whatever, I just think that after everything you and Spencer have made it out of, you deserve a celebration that reflected that,” she speaks passionately, as she always does when discussing people in love.

Turning around to look back at the mirror, the tulle of your veil cascading over your shoulders as you grew giddy. Your dress was a whimsical, white chiffon that fell to the floor and moved with you as you walked. Small straps of fabric were delicately draped over your arms for an off-the-shoulder effect, you had never felt more glamorous. Although, if there was a day for glamor, your wedding day would certainly qualify.

You snap your head around to see Penelope furiously typing on her phone, “Uh oh,” she whispers, looking at the screen.

Humming, you step off of the pedestal and over to her, careful not to trip on your dress, “What’s wrong?” You murmur, trying to see what was distressing her. Dread built in your stomach; the team couldn’t be getting called away? Two of its members were about to get married. This is why you should’ve just gone to the courthouse; you never should’ve let Garcia talk you into this.

Jolting you out of your panic induced stupor, she answers, “Something’s up with Reid.”

Your heart clenches, “Reid? My Reid?” You whisper, “Is he okay?”

The two of you jump when someone bangs on the door, and she moves to open it, just a crack at first – to see who it is – and then all the way open to reveal Luke on the other side. Naturally, the members of the BAU made up your wedding party, and Luke as the best man was the easy choice.

He was mostly dressed, save for the bowtie that remained undone around his neck, “I need to steal Y/N.” His shoulders were rising and falling quickly like he had run across the building.

“She’s getting ready for the wedding. Her wedding,” Penelope answers, gesturing back to you. “Besides, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

Really, you were mostly ready, you just needed to put your shoes on and line up. “There won’t be a wedding if we can’t get the groom out there,” Luke replies.

You warily approach the doorway, peeking around the door, “What’s wrong?”

“He just needs you,” Luke explains, gesturing toward you with his hands.

Nodding determinedly, you step out the door and run over to the other side of the building to where the groom’s ready room is, pulling the fabric of your dress up so that you don’t trip. Along the way, you pass a few guests, but you don’t stop.

It wasn’t news to most of them that you were a grounding force for Spencer, the two of you had been put through, as Luke put it, the wringer together and still managed to come out the other side. You skid to a halt in front of the door and knock quickly, “Spence, it’s me.”

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” he murmurs through the door, echoing the earlier sentiments of Penelope. You know he doesn’t believe in it, which only adds to your concern.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fidgeting with the doorknob just to discover it’s locked. “If you don’t unlock the door, I’m going to go find Derek and have him kick it down for me,” you threaten, wondering if the reminder of all of the people here would coax him out.

There was no response from the other side of the door.

Sighing, you turn to look at Luke, “Can you give us a minute?” He nods, letting you know he’ll talk to Garcia before walking down the long hallway.

Once he’s gone, you hear the tell-tale click of the door unlocking, “Garcia will kill you if you walk in here.”

“Penny isn’t here, baby. It’s just you and me, okay?” You speak lowly, “What’s wrong, my love?” Dropping your hand on the doorknob, you startle slightly when it turns and the door swings open.

You yelp when Spencer pulls you in, closing the door behind you before he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. Immediately, you feel his body relax against yours, “Isn’t this supposed to be bad luck?” He murmurs.

Humming, you return his hug gratefully, “We’ve had enough bad luck, don’t you think? It’ll be okay.” His arms loosen around you, and you pull away slightly so you can look up at him, placing your hands tenderly on his chest, thumbing the satin fabric of his lapels. “And besides, I’m not fully dressed yet. I’m fairly certain that means it doesn’t count.”

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, holding you out at arm’s length. “You’re perfect, and I’m…” His voice trails off as he takes a step back from you, sighing as he takes a seat in one of the white chairs in the ready room.

Tilting your head to the side, you felt the fabric of your veil flow to the side, “You’re what, Spence?” You ask, slowly approaching the chair he was sitting in.

He furrows his brows in apprehension, “I think I might be scared of you,” he answers candidly.

You couldn’t help the giggle that spurted from your lips, “Am I really that scary?” You inquire softly, seeking more answers from him. You saw him better now, the darkness of his tux offset by the purple bowtie and handkerchief, joined with the light florals of his boutonnière. Spencer’s hair was a mess, a tell-tale sign that he had been running his hands through it.

Clearing his throat, Spencer looks up at you with a look in his eye that you can’t quite place, “I passed by your room earlier, and I heard you laughing.” He took a deep, tentative breath, “I thought you sounded so happy, and now I’m not sure I can keep you happy.”

Sighing, you duck your head slightly, “Spencer,” you say seriously, “are we still getting married today?”

“What?” He says in disbelief. “Of course we are, that’s not- I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “We’re still getting married; I’ve quite literally never wanted anything more in my entire life. I’m just worried,” he speaks quietly.

Gingerly, you step closer to the chair before he reaches out for you, placing a hand on your waist and gently guiding you down until you are sitting on his lap. “You make me so happy, Spencer Reid. I know that somewhere in that gorgeous brain of yours you know that, but I also know that you are your own worst critic.”

You’re sitting sideways on his lap with your legs latticed on top of each other. Gingerly, he places a hand on your thigh and another on the small of your back, “You deserve everything you want in the world.”

“And I want you. Doesn’t that count for something?” You ask him, emotion beginning to rise in your throat – you cannot cry, then the wedding would really be delayed. “Spencer, I’m so ecstatic that at the end of today, I get to be your wife. That’s such a privilege to me. You and I, we get to be so fucking happy today. We deserve that.” You tell him gently, “We get to be married and go on our honeymoon and come home and we can tell all of your stories to your mom, and we’ll have a baby or two and we’ll be so fucking happy.” You swallow your emotion, looking up at the light in the hope that it will clear your tears. “For the rest of our lives, we’ll be so happy.”

Then it came, “I don’t want to forget you.” His voice is almost imperceptible, but you hear him still.

The ache in his voice feels like a stab to your heart, you were well aware that his mother had Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t having a good day today, but the two of you had gone to visit her in the morning. Ever since she was diagnosed, it’s been like Spencer has a storm cloud hovering over him – he can’t be tested for the gene markers, not for a few more years. Taking a deep breath, you reach over and smooth his hair back, “If you get Alzheimer’s, I will sit down with you every day and remind you. I’m going to walk down that aisle today and tell you that I’m going to love you in sickness and in health and I’m going to mean it.”

“I’m scared,” he murmurs, leaning into your touch.

Using your free hand, you reach up and tenderly wipe a tear from his cheek, “We can take it.”

He nods in agreement with you, “Together, as a team,” he concurs, a slight amount of confidence returning to his voice.

Resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you take your moment. The last moment before you officially unite as one, and you let that moment take as long as you need. “I should go,” you whisper, looking over at the clock, the ceremony was supposed to have started by now.

Spencer leans down and kisses you, “I’ll see you out there?” He asks expectantly.

Nodding assuredly, you reach up and wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth, “I’ll be there.”

During the ceremony, you impressively were able to keep yourself together, until you promised him you would love him in sickness and in health.

please remember to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

[loveyhoneydovey]

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon riley

notes & warnings: the used pictures are only for aesthetic purposes, reader is not physically described in this. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI this is an 18+ only blog. a significant age gap between simon & reader is implied but the actual number is never mentioned. if i missed anything please lmk:)

this is a completely unedited little something i wrote at 4am

reader who never fell out of love mechanic ex-boyfriend simon

you still recommend your ex-boyfriend’s garage to your friends (especially any vulnerable women) because despite your failed relationship, you’ve never met someone as trustworthy and reliable as simon 

you and mechanic simon who met when you’d found a used car you wanted to purchase and wanted to have it independently inspected 

reader who found this older, ruggedly handsome, stoic and yet professional mechanic who seemed to know his shit. despite the terrifying skull design resting next to his shop’s name, you trusted him immediately

not only did he inspect the car for you, but he also helped bring down its price and performed any necessary repairs at a huge discount (he never told you about this, you eventually figured it out on your own)

despite the obvious crush, he was very reluctant to pursue anything with you. not only were you his client and trusted him not to make things weird, but you were also so much younger and he felt like an old dog who was beyond learning any new tricks

you should’ve taken his warning from the beginning as he had predicted the downfall of your relationship before it’d even began

reader whose car has been acting weird for the past couple of months so you begrudgingly take it to simon’s shop

you’d actually tried taking it to some new garage in town, but had a feeling you were being lied to and overcharged when the sleazy mechanic barely spent an hour on it and said it was back like new

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who doesn’t even need 5 minutes to tell you it’s on its last leg. despite his stoic demeanor, he’s actually concerned by how you’ve been driving such a vehicle in such an unsafe state

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who starts asking till he finds a car within your budget. one he inspects himself to make sure his baby not anymore doesn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere because of faulty brakes

the fucker was ready to buy it himself, but knew you’d never accept his money (especially not after the harsh parting words you’d left each other with during your last fight)

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who’ll never love anyone more than you, but still isn’t willing to repair the broken bond between you two

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who still uses o’keeffe’s working hands cream every day cause you used to always rub it on his hands, swearing his calloused skin would soon feel like a baby’s butt (and of course you were right). he tries to mimic the way you’d gently work it into his damaged skin as the only thing he had left from you now were memories

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who never really tries to move on from you despite his apprentice’s attempts to set him up with multiple people (what’s the point of you for something he’s already found) 

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who went through the army and came out even more damaged after a stint in prison. he believes nothing good will come out of such a sweet thing so full of life being chained to a grumpy old man like him

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who despite thinking all of that can’t accept the thought of you being with someone other than him

WHEW the is the first time i've written in YEARS (and i probably won't write anything for another good 5 years fjkdsw). hope you enjoyed this as much as i did!! this au idea has been rotting my brain for the past few days and i just had to let it out. feel free to dm me, leave a comment or send an ask about this au. dividers made by @anitalenia ✨

[wordsarelife]

—would’ve, could’ve, should’ve

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader

summary: you try to live with the loss of luke castellan and the betrayal he brought upon you

warning: angst

notes: the timeline is all over the place lmao. i haven't read the books yet (i probably will in the future) so i have no idea how or when luke got claimed. i just made it up for the sake of the story, hope that's alright :)

the wind splashed in your face like the ocean did when you would throw your body in the water. it was different, colder than it normally was. you weren’t used to the shiver your body felt, you had always felt at ease at camp halfblood.

now it was nothing like it used to be.

percy and annabeth were down at the camp, far away from the cliffside you were standing on, probably consoling each other.

you had felt nothing but loneliness from the moment he had left.

not even your brother or annabeth could’ve done something to change that.

you felt almost the same you did the day you came to camp. afraid and nervous, hands holding on to luke as you ran after him. thalia, annabeth and grover not far behind you.

but you had felt a bit of familiarity that day too. everything was new to you, but luke wasn’t. you had grown up together, experiencing the first effects of being a half-god side by side. there was no one who could take on the role he had held for you.

you stared into the clouds, the width of the sky in front of you, as your mind wandered back.

“look at the water!” annabeth called loudly.

your hand gripped luke’s arm, as both of you watched the giant wave travel to the shore.

“poseidon” an unknown boy behind you muttered and luke and you exchanged glances.

the wave broke down right in front of you, soft water glistening onto your feet as the lake opened up, perfectly wide enough for you to stand in without getting wet.

“what?” you mumbled, as the water fell back into its position right as luke was trying to follow you. it drenched you completely, but as your hand moved forward it bend away beneath your touch, moving just as you guided it to.

“she got claimed by poseidon” a few girls muttered in awe.

“claimed?” you repeated, still standing in the lake. you looked at luke, as if he knew any better than you.

you had to move out of the hermes cabin the same day and into a shed that felt less like a home and more like a punishment.

you had been overwhelmed at the bustling loudness of the hermes cabin at first, but now you were missing it. luke slept next to you for the first week, until you decided that you had to do this on your own. still, luke spend every evening with you, until the last alarm rang out and he had to leave if he didn’t want to be caught outside after nighttime (or eaten by harpies).

luke and you only grew closer during your time at camp. you did everything together. people got used to it quickly, always pointing out if one of you was missing.

luke found solace in your presence, telling you about his shattered hope regarding his father, someone who was still unknown to him. and you felt bad about it. it had taken days for you to be claimed and luke was still in the dark after months.

it was simply unfair.

you couldn't always relate to his frustration regarding the gods, because your father tried to reach you in forms that was allowed, shipping letters or presents your way, but you always listened to him, understanding that he was going through something different and he desperately needed someone on his side.

to say that luke's claiming was a bit of a let down was an understatement. luke had hoped so long for something that all his expectations had been incredibly low and hermes still managed to undercut them even further.

he didn't bother to pay attention to any of his children, none of them were treated as if they were more than just one piece of a big puzzle.

a letter arrived in the middle of july, listing a bunch of names that hermes had concluded to be those of his children. luke was included on the list. it was nothing special, nothing worth of a mention.

luke stayed in the hermes cabin and lost a bit of hope with each day passing without hearing from his father.

sometimes he found his anger directed at your father, who seemed all the more caring than his own. and although he didn't wish for you to go through the same grief he had gone through, he sometimes wondered what it would feel like to have you understand his experiences.

time passed and luke stopped mentioning his father or anything about the gods completely. you tried to ask him about it, but he claimed to have moved on, not caring for the attention of someone who couldn't be bothered to give it.

that was about the time you started seeing luke in a different light. he was no longer the little boy you had grown up along, he was almost a man, features loosing their boyish touch and dissolving into something more grown. something you had never seen in him before.

it was like getting to know him all over again.

it seemed like it wasn't any different with luke as he suddenly grew interested in the kind of perfume you were using or the little rings on your fingers when your hand would rest on his biceps a little too long.

the infaturation came fast, almost overnight and neither of you was ready to longer deny what was so clearly happening between you.

luke and you started dating that same year. it was the first relationship for the both of you and everything felt special. you couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. he was kind and funny, always kept an eye on you wherever you went and quickly became the most important person in your life.

faster than you noticed, your whole life revolved around luke castellan. maybe that was why you felt like you had lost everything the night that he left.

you were dating for more than a year by the time percy showed up at camp.

those few days were probably the last you had truly been happy. you had a brother now, he was lovely and you immediately formed a bond with each other, having had similiar experiences regarding the truth about your father.

you remembered the night so clearly. it was like a never ending flashback in your hand.

you were taking a drink out of gina's hand, right as annabeth came running through the forest.

"y/n!" she called, her voice slumping down when she noticed you not far away. "percy" she simply said when you turned around. the distress on her face was enough to make you follow her.

luke looked up at the sound your footsteps were making. and annabeth quickly threw something, that made him let go of what he was holding. you realized too late that it was a sword.

percy was laying on the ground in front of luke. your features turned into a frown, when you looked at your brother and back at your boyfriend.

"y/n" luke said, surprise and worry in his voice. "annabeth"

you were so confused. you didn't even know what was going on. but what he had planned to do send shivers down your spine.

"i heard everything" annabeth said.

luke looked at you, like he was quietly asking if you had heard it too.

you shook your head. "what have you done?" you stepped around annabeth, who tried to hold you back without any luck. you stopped to glance up at him.

luke averted his eyes, feeling your breath against his neck, as your head was still recoiled backwards.

"look at me!" you said loudly, warningly, and you could see the muscles moving in his chin, a frown evident on his mouth.

"he's with kronos" percy announced, before luke had the chance to say something.

the rest of the memory was in a blur, but you clearly remembered your tears. tears of confusion, of betrayal, of hurt. that someone so close to you would betray everything you had fought so hard for? it seemed unfair to say the least.

and that someone was luke, your luke. you didn't even recognize him anymore.

you remembered his hand reaching out for you, the pleading look in his eyes, the silent question, to come with him and leave everything you loved behind. but you shook your head, turning away from him. you didn't even want to look at him. you would rather remember who he had been all those years before.

"sorry" he had muttered and neither annabeth nor you had been fast enough to stop him, as he ran away and through the portal he had opened.

now luke castellan was just a memory that haunted you. like a ghost that never really left your side. you missed him so dearly. all while you wished that he would stay far away at the same time. it was confusing and you hated that you were still so in love with him after everything he had done to you friends, your brother and even you.

you threw his chain into the relentless waves of the sea beneath you, before you walked back into the forest and away from the cliff.

"i haven't seen you all day" percy stood up and fell into a quick step beside you, when he saw you approaching.

"i was up on the cliff" you shrugged.

"oh" he muttered.

he had been following you around camp relentlessly after luke had left a few days ago. the hurt was still fresh, but felt so distant at the same time. percy was worried about you, you could clearly read that from the expression on his face.

he treated you like someone had just died. and that wasn't even far off.

"have you eaten anything?" he asked, not giving up.

"i didn't feel hungry" you mumbled. "where's annabeth?" she had been the only one who could at least somewhat understand what you were feeling. luke had been like a brother to her and both of you were now collateral damage on his path to power.

"you should really eat something" percy retored, matter of factly. "she went to change. i accidently spilled some ketchup on her shirt"

you halted in your step, turning to face your brother who looked up at you with a curious look in his eyes.

"don't ever change" you whispered, reaching out and hugging him close to your chest.

"what?" he mumbled against your body.

you pressed a kiss onto his head, before you let go of him. "thank you for being so caring" you smiled softly. "i will get through this, but i wouldn't without you"

"of course you would" percy shook his head and pushed his hands against his hips. "he's just a boy"

"no" your voice was soft and you tried hard not to let it break in front of him. you had done a pretty good job at avoiding to cry when percy was around you. "he was so much more to me"

percy sighed, but finally nodded. "yeah," he muttered, almost to himself "i get it."

you smiled sadly, appreciating his attempt to understand. the silence stretched between you, the rustling of the trees and the distant crashing of waves filling the space.

then, percy took a deep breath and glanced out at the horizon. "you know," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "the hardest thing isn’t losing someone. it’s realizing that no matter what they’ve done, you still carry the good parts of them with you."

you blinked, surprised by the depth of his words. he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and resolve. "and that’s okay. it’s okay to hold onto that. to let yourself feel it. but it’s also okay to let go when you're ready. you loved luke for who he was, not for what he was going to become"

for a moment, you just stood there, absorbing his words. percy, the little brother you never expected, was showing you a wisdom that went far beyond his years.

"yeah, you might be right about that" you said as soon as the words returned to you. "when have you gotten so wise?"

"well, nearly dying does all sorts of things with you"

you smiled, pulling him against you once more. "thank you for coming back home, percy"

"we're in this together now" he assured. "i never had a sister before, but i will try my best to be a good brother"

"you already are an amazing brother, you know?" you said softly. "but you're so much more to me, too"

at that, he send you a look that would probably cure your nightmares for days to come. you and luke had relied on each other all your life, but now he was gone and you had to learn to accept that.

now someone else was relying on you and you promised to not let it come this far again. you would make sure that percy jackson would never experience all the disappointments and frustration you and luke had to endure throughout the years.

you would make sure that percy never felt unwanted or less loved like kids who had normal parents.

you would not fail percy like you had failed luke.

[ozzgin]

Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

[saerins]

─── 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄

+ gojo x f!reader | wc 2.3k | content: modern au, fluff, slight angst, rich!gojo, rich!reader, arranged marriage but reversed(?), slightly suggestive

notes: haha i was exploring tropes and this just came to me :’) fairly nervous so feedbacks and reblogs appreciated muwah <3

summary: sometimes you think that you and gojo are not meant to be. and sometimes, he itches to prove you wrong.

there are many things you would call gojo satoru. partner in crime, friendship on fire, a twisted manifestation of the kind of romance that would consume you whole if you didn’t take precaution.

“ready to do this, baby?”

he’s as sweet-lipped as ever, the honeyed words overflowing from his tongue. how you’d miss it, those words you hear at night, the saccharine praises that send you into overdrive.

“only if you are, sweetie.”

you’re equally good at it, having learned from one of the best—gojo satoru himself. you smirk at him, straightening his suit and tie. he looks devilishly handsome in that tailored suit, the one you had made for him. if you recall correctly, he only saves it for a special occasion.

and it qualifies—today is definitely a special occasion.

“so happy to be getting rid of me?” satoru asks you, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes. his white lashes house a sea of crystalline blue, the kind you’ve gotten addicted to, the same pair you’d gotten lost in many times over.

you’ll never forget it.

the way satoru’s lips ghost over your own. the way his index finger trails up the side of your arm. he likes the goosebumps that sear across your skin. satoru loves knowing the effect he has on you.

this marriage of convenience has taken its toll on both your families. in hindsight, they should’ve known that they can’t control either of you. the gojo family, for all they’re worth, thought that gojo satoru would never betray their money, their status. and your family—they’d always known you’d objected to these notions; convenience, business, romance—the way these three intertwine intentionally, a manufactured relationship borne out of familial ties.

it’s bullshit.

how lucky for you, that gojo satoru felt the same. he still feels the same, which is why he’s in front of you right now, getting ready to drop the bomb in the investors’ meeting.

his father is sure to kill him, but that’s provided he can get through you first.

sure, getting married to gojo satoru was not in your life plans. your mother had chosen a very apt timing to tempt you, quoting half a million dollars as the condition for getting and staying married to that gojo boy. and sure, she can do her best to try and haggle that money back from you once the both of you are done with today, but you’re guessing she’ll be facing much more important and pressing matters than simply getting money back from her defiant daughter.

“this is what we discussed, satoru,” you sigh, avoiding his question like he knew you would. “one year, that’s all we needed. and look where we are now.”

satoru smiles, pearly whites and bad boy charm. “i’d miss you in my bed at night though.”

you smack him playfully across his chest. he only chuckles lowly, fondly, his right hand on your head, brushing your hair. it almost makes you want to stay. but that wasn’t part of the deal, and you’re not sure that either you or satoru are ready for commitments.

“must’ve been some pretty good sex to make the gojo satoru miss me, huh?” you play along, pushing yourself away gently, your hand on his chest.

satoru tips your chin up with his finger, looking you in the eyes as he tells you, “babe, you’re the best pussy i’ve ever had.”

complete romantic, as you can tell. (you can’t stop his vulgar tongue even if you tried.)

“okay okay, stop stalling, satoru,” you chide him, holding your palm out, smiling as he takes it. “got the evidence?”

satoru holds a thick envelope out, grinning. “all here.”

the two of you stand outside the conference room for a minute, staring at each other. in another world, maybe you’d be in this hotel with gojo satoru where you’re actually married—for feelings rather than a transaction. in that other world, maybe you and gojo satoru were childhood sweethearts, the kind where you grew old without all the fucked up relationships that branded both of you too overwhelmed to be in a real one right now. hey, maybe in that world, maybe just maybe, that vow that gojo satoru had uttered on your wedding day (the same that you had uttered as well)—maybe he would’ve meant it.

you didn’t think you would come to like gojo satoru. it’s been a long time since you’d first met him. when you’d seen him stomping into the meeting room of your company’s office like he owned the place, like everyone there was beneath him. he’d gotten right under your skin then and there.

getting along was no easy feat. it took three months for the both of you to agree to live together. strangely it took just one night for you both to give in to temptation once you did start living together.

both of you are menaces—that’s what your mother would say.

somehow, somewhere, those feelings you thought you’d never feel before blossomed again. the kind of trust you didn’t think you’d ever give was given to satoru and you wonder if he even knows it. but satoru has never changed his stance on relationships since the first time you met him; they’re a waste of time.

“you know, if you wanna keep me, all you gotta do is say so.” satoru’s looking at you, that jester smile plastered on his face. you can’t see his beautiful eyes when it’s all crinkled up like that, but you thank god for that. you don’t know how you’d resist him if you could see them.

“dream on, satoru,” you deflect, and expertly. you’re great at hiding your real feelings like that. “our deal ends today.”

yeah, the deal the two of you made with each other, right when both families thought their children had made peace with their decision, or their fate, as they liked to call it. neither you nor gojo felt any affection for the family you grew up in, not when they’d never took interest in either of you as anything other than an heir. when both your childhoods were filled with extra readings and learning proper manners. when satoru grew up learning from his father that women were just a means to a child and you’d grown up learning from your mother that if a girl is not beautiful then she is not desirable. you remember how she almost disowned you for getting a scar on your face, even though it was only temporary.

she has a penchant for the overdramatics. you think today might be no different. you hope not. the entire aim of today is to bring about the crumble of two empires—gojo’s and your family’s.

to hell with their money and their dirty syndicates. it’s filthy money they have their hands full with, and frankly, you and satoru are done playing their pawns.

as satoru leads the way, you loop your arm around his elbow, watching as his father is taken completely off-guard when he watches his own son expose his schemes, watching as your own parents try to salvage the situation by saying how children these days would do anything to get out of their responsibilities.

they’re all walking ironies.

you both watch as the investors walk out one by one, outraged and disappointed. you watch as satoru’s own father vows to kill him, and you scoff as your own mother seconds his notion.

“not if the law gets you first,” you tell them, effectively shutting them up as they hear the police sirens in the air.

they spew about how the both of you are pieces of shit as they’re taken away, and you find you couldn’t care less. maybe it’s a little inhuman of you not to feel a thing when you watch your parents getting taken away in handcuffs. but then again, they’d never really treated you like a human either.

“here you go,” satoru chirps as the sirens drown into the background. he holds out another envelope, this one solely for you.

you smile, a melancholy washing over you as you take it from his hands and take the documents out, flipping to the last page where satoru has already signed.

“our divorce papers,” you coo, “how romantic.”

because gojo satoru is always a romantic.

he remembers your birthday and remembers your favourite cake. he remembers what you need when you’re upset, never makes you feel alone. he remembers how you like your eggs and purposely cooks them wrong all the time. he remembers how you take your coffee and always gives you tea. he remembers how you always nag at him for annoying you and then annoy you some more because for some reason you look very attractive when you’re angry.

it takes you a minute to sign your own name. it kind of feels lonely now, thinking how you’ll never go back to the same apartment as satoru. how you won’t see him sprawled out on the couch, pouting because you’re a little late for movie night. how you won’t catch him staring at your body as you get changed. how you won’t get to throw your pillows at him in the morning for tickling you in bed just to get you to wake up.

after all—you’d agreed; these affections were temporary like they were always meant to be.

you can’t help but find yourself wishing for more. but you were raised to be ruthless, not stupid. you won’t let satoru know of your feelings, because all your deductions say that nothing good will come of it.

“hmm,” satoru hums as he eyes your signature. “wouldn’t be opposed to a special arrange—”

“not gonna be your fuckbuddy, satoru,” you deadpan at him, flicking his forehead.

“why not?” he whines, and you nearly cave.

because you can’t risk falling further than you already have when there’s absolutely zero chance of satoru catching you.

“because there’s a long line of guys i wanna date and you should get in line first,” you lie, and satoru smirks like he’s caught on to something.

but if he has, he doesn’t say a thing, and that tells you everything you need to know.

“guess this is it then, l/n y/n?”

you don’t want it to be, but it has to.

“you made a great fake real husband, gojo satoru,” you tell him, shaking his hand.

kind of a lame goodbye for two people who had shared everyday together for the past year. but you think maybe this brief goodbye should suffice. you don’t want the flames to burn either of you blue.

gojo satoru doesn’t say another word when you turn to leave.

and you don’t turn to look back at him as you walk away.

some chapters of your life should come to a close. your chapter with gojo satoru should remain here, kept close in your heart, kept warm as memories should.

six months later.

“i just think you and i would be suited for other people.”

it’s funny, how everything never works out between you and other guys. you don’t recall it being so hard with satoru. perhaps he was truly made for you, like the heavens designed. but both of you were too similar, too afraid of commitment. nothing was going to come out of it anyway.

and maybe that’s why you miss it.

his fleeting glances, soft lips on tender skin and a pair of calm blue that never fails to mesmerise you.

satoru is the fleeting kind of romance that burns so bright in its prime and the kind you can never keep close. not when he isn’t willing to tone it down and when you don’t have the tolerance to match.

strangely, maybe that’s also why you’re still drawn to him. you’re still hoping that there will be a flaw in the design, that your seemingly parallel lines will intersect somehow. that maybe you won’t have to try and replace him with someone else.

“yeah, kento, i get it,” you tell nanami, sipping on your tea as you watch him get up and go.

you and nanami would not have worked out anyway. not when you’re way too fucked up and he’s comparibly normal. it would be too much for him. you would be too much for him. you stare at the tea in front of you. you kind of miss those dates satoru took you on; trespassing on private property and reliving youth in arcades.

satoru is everything—love, heartache, gambles, sins. both of you are spun from the same thread, and maybe you believe that if soulmates exist, you and him have the same red thread twirled around your pinkies.

though, the fact that he isn’t here simply proves you to be wrong.

last you’d heard, satoru was travelling the world, carefree and spreading his wings like you always knew he would.

you find yourself wishing that perhaps, somehow, you’d meet him again. but you sigh and get up, knowing you are far too old for this wishful thinking.

but where you’d thought that satoru was roaming, you forget that he’s much like a swallow. because now, when you turn around, you catch that same shade of ocean blue staring straight at you, the same white locks that obstructed your vision in the mornings.

the same satoru who’d learned of love through you and you alone. the same satoru who, even if he leaves, will always find his way back to you, no matter how much you try to deny and push him away.

satoru takes two steps forward before he pulls you towards him, his long arms coming around you and holding you tight.

this time, he’s not going to let you go.

“y/n,” he calls your name softly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “wanna give this another shot?”

[hanasnx]

❝ one more night. ❞

── ex-bf!anakin skywalker x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 4k SUMMARY: anakin can’t accept the fact that you and him split, so he shows up at your door in the middle of the night. NOTES: repost. WARNINGS: prompt | angst but its not like super painful its like an argument | anakin being fucking toxic <3 | and reader also being pretty toxic too <3 | anal fingering | vaginal fingering | a lil brat taming | p in v | degradation | unprotected sex | lil bit of double penetration.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER can’t sleep. Eyes wide open, staring emotionless into the ceiling. Blindly, he reaches for his com-link, rifling around discarded trash and dirty laundry to find it in the pocket of some pants he wore earlier. There’s nothing for him, no messages. He checks the time, and raises himself to sit on the edge of the mattress. 

You aren’t having the best of luck with sleep either, laying on your side, your hands tucked underneath your pillow. Until you hear a banging on your door. Not a knock, a barrage. It alerts you, jumping out of bed onto your feet so you can check your Ring camera. A familiar face greeting your sights, and his intense, furrowed gaze looks into the lense as if he can sense you’ve noticed him. You hurry over, wrapping yourself in a robe to conceal your coincidentally skimpy pajamas. 

A million things run through your mind: What could he want? Why is he here? What if it’s an emergency? 

As soon as your doors slide open, he barges in. Electricity is in the air, you can feel it prickle your skin until your hairs stand on end. 

“Anakin? What the hell? It’s three in the morning!” You’re upset with his sudden appearance, the way he passes you like he’s looking for something, how belligerent he’s acting. 

“I came for my stuff.” he responds, tossing the statement at you like you should’ve known, like he shouldn’t have to explain himself. Always the same Anakin, pretending the galaxy revolves around him. 

“Your stuff?” you parrot incredulously, hounding him as he invites himself further into your home. “At this hour? Do you have no common courtesy?” Another aspect about him you didn’t miss. 

After he, seemingly, can’t find what he’s searching for, he rounds on you and you narrowly avoid bumping into him. Inches apart, his glare bores into you, “Where is it?” 

“The box?” You gaze up at him through raised brows in disbelief, “You mean the box of your shit I told you to come pick up weeks ago? The last box of all your crap you left here that I was sick of looking at? I threw it the fuck out, Anakin, what do you think?” 

This anger coming off of him, had to be artificial. Exacerbated by his own overthinking, instead of any valid, naturally occurring emotion. Jedi aren’t allowed “attachments” including belongings, so what difference does it make if some of his things were discarded? He should’ve come when he was summoned, you were more than patient. Besides, there was nothing actually valuable in that box, he’d already moved out for the most part. It was all the standard staying-over paraphernalia. Yellow toothbrush, medical derm shampoo, a few pairs of his sleepwear… a necklace he made for you. It’s not like you were going to continue wearing it! 

Your former lover does not seem to care for your reply at all, eyes widening, flying into a rage, jabbing his finger into the space between you two. “You had no right—!”

“Shut up!” you laugh, hopelessly wry, dropping the act, “You don’t actually care about something like that, you’re just looking for an excuse to fight!” As usual. 

“That was my stuff, and you trash it?” He juts his chin, towering over you. “Fuck off.” 

It shouldn’t have, but you’re taken aback by the seething words. So much so you don’t register him bumping your shoulder when he side-steps you. 

The sound of disheveling snaps you out of your stupor, witnessing Anakin snatching up whatever’s in reach to throw it to the floor. 

“Anakin!” 

“Let’s see how you like it!” he sneers, tugging books off shelves to fall to the floor haphazardly, bending pages and creasing spines. Any trinkets that get caught in the crossfire, hit the ground and are kicked out of his way as he moves. 

“You are such a fucking asshole! Stop!” 

Ignoring you, he shoves a drawer stack of recorded sound bytes, your music. The drawers lay ajar, spilling the contents out, and you have to step over them to get to Anakin. 

“You’re having a fucking temper tantrum like a fucking toddler! I’m talking to you!” You latch onto his bicep, attempting to yank his hand off your belongings. It’s successful for a second, but he slips that arm from your grasp to squeeze your wrist, catching your other one to hold them both in his one hand. His other continues the work, knocking around to disturb anything it touches. Helpless to his iron grip, you’re pulled with him when he goes to your collection of rare, empty, glass perfume bottles. Spindly, frail, and beautiful, they are far too special to mess around with. 

“Anakin. Anakin, I’m warning you.” Your tone shifts to plead, even if disguised as a threat. 

For the first time since he began this rampage, he glances at you, and you see the grave sincerity in his eyes. It sends a chill right down your spine, and you tug away from him uselessly. You watch as he unlatches the framing, and your heart beats harder. 

“You used to make me keep an eye out for these things.” he muses with contempt. You remain eerily still, worried that if you jostle him too much, the likeness of a bull-in-a-china-shop will become your immediate reality. “I’d check storefronts, thrifts, and individual sales anywhere I went.” 

His hand reaches in, delicately plucking the thin and brittle bottle from its place. 

“This one. I got you this one.” he tells you. You swallow, overwhelmed. Gingerly, his fist encloses over it, engulfing more than half in his large palm. All he has to do is squeeze, and it’d crack. 

“Look, look,” you murmur, conceding. “I’m sorry, okay? I get it now. You’re right.” Even though you had a violent, childish, dramatic way of showing it.

“I gave this to you, how come you didn’t get rid of this too?” 

“I shouldn’t have thrown out your stuff, I understand the feeling. That’s what you were trying to tell me, right?” 

Your gaze travels across the room, your stuff strewn about the floor, but nothing is actually damaged. Just messy. Nothing is lost. Unlike his carelessly dumped box. A guilt weighs down your chest at the realization. 

His hold softens on both the bottle and your wrists. When you meet his eyes, you notice how he hasn’t stopped looking at you. “I apologize, again. I did it because I was mad at you.” you add, stronger this time. Your confession is accepted, and without wavering from you, he replaces the bottle inside the casing, shutting it gently. From the heat of the moment, you’re panting, and your robe had fallen off your shoulder, revealing a strap of your pink top. He regards it with interest, drawing you to him by your wrists. A finger from his metal hand comes up— and you follow it curiously— to burrow underneath the strap, snapping it against you. 

“Ow,” you emit, glaring at him, but it softens as soon as you register the thick tension between you two. How the two of you take turns glancing at each other’s lips. 

“I was mad at you too.” he admits under his breath. You flash a confused frown, only because kissing him is solely on your mind. “I didn’t come pick it up because I was mad at you. Felt like,” he sighs, that finger tracing up the column of your neck, to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, and toying with the shell of it. “like if I got it, then it’d really be over. Us.” 

You tilt your head, slumping in place. “But we are over, Ani.” 

He flinches at the sound of that exclusive nickname rolling off your tongue as easy as it used to. “Don’t say that. Don’t say it.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Makes it real.” 

“Take a look around.” you command, and he does as you say. Your home in disarray because of him. “This is what we do to each other. It’s not good, we’re not good for each other.” 

There’s something in his eyes, a glimmer of hope to hear that could be your only reason for ending things. “You miss me.” 

Your lips press into a thin line, but you cannot lie to him, and nod. “I do.”

A shift, a magnetism. Like he’s flipped a switch, a charm you couldn’t resist then and can’t resist now. Every time you’re in the same room with him, he instills his every move with a sensuality and passion you want to rip apart. 

He pulls you to him by your wrists that have remained in his custody, the air hitching in your throat. “You want me.” 

“I do,” you breathe, and you both meet in the middle, lips colliding and opening instantly to meld tongues. As if no time had passed. He releases your limbs, and you use them to wrap around his neck, pressing yourself to him faithfully. Swallowing your sounds as he draws your hips to his, close enough to feel his half hard length hanging underneath the thin material of his clothes. 

It’s unceremonious, it’s discordant, but somehow feels so right, so good, so unapologetically Anakin. The unarticulated traits you loved about him. A power between the two of you that you both fight to take, devouring each other, sloppily fucking mouths with tongues and sucking on the slimy muscle. He’s gross about how much he demands from you using no words at all, sticking his tongue practically down your throat, and palming the back of your head to make sure you can’t escape. 

His other hand slides to get a handful of ass, before plunging in between to massage your asshole with his fingers. A slow build up was never Anakin’s strongest suit, but this time you didn’t mind it. Already slick in your shorts. 

“One more night.” Anakin speaks against your lips, a beg. “I’ll do anything you want, for one more night with you.”

You don’t need to be convinced, confirming hastily, “One more night.”

He stoops, and without skipping a beat you obey, jumping into his arms so he can pick you up. Wrapped around him as he’s inbound to the nearest surface. 

You cup his face in your hands, cold nimble fingers on his heated skin as you suck on his plump lower lip. Dragging it out to let it bob back, you lick at it like a signature, and he opens his mouth to allow you back in, lapping at him like you need to taste every corner of him. His hand on the wall trails to guide him, avoiding bumping into anything before he reaches the counter of your kitchen bar. He sets you down, your bare thighs against the marble so you hiss. 

Unperturbed, he snaps your robe apart and down. Your sweet little silken matching set. Pink pajamas, cropped, short and thin enough to see your erect nipples poking through. Anakin moistens his lips, eating you alive with his gaze. “I gave these to you too.” he muses in pleasant surprise, he had his suspicions before only seeing a glimpse of them but now it’s undeniable. “Didn’t wanna get rid of these either? S’almost like you don’t wanna let go. I give you the best gifts, don’t I?” His confidence annoyed you and you pushed at his chest. He snickers, a sick sense of superiority overtaking him. “I’ve got another gift for you right here, baby.” 

Cut off before you could speak, a moan spills from your mouth as his hand contacts the heat between your legs, dulling that ache for a sweet second. He undulates his digits, his hand finding its home, where it belongs: on your sex, dampening your little shorts with your generous slick. His head dips down, nuzzling your tits through the soft material. Loose from a bra, he lets them fall over his face, and you cup them around him. He hums in approval, adding fervor in his movements to shake his head in between your breasts, nipping your buds, and rubbing your clit. The way his sandy curls bob, his content smile against you, makes you stifle a snicker to yourself. This playful side of him, his lack of self awareness when around you is what you missed. 

Your arousal grows more painful by the second though, and you rush. “Anakin, get my shorts off,” 

He emits a noise in response, biting down on the side of your tit as if to take your flesh with him as he pulls back. 

Focused on his task, he directs you, manhandling you to lean back over the cliff of the counter, picking your sides up one by one to slide the shorts off and down. You kick them off your ankles, the coolness meeting your hot sex, fogging up the surface. No time to dwell on it, two of Anakin’s fingers explore your entrance. Dipping the pads to gather pre-cum, using it to glide around your folds. You jump, sensitive from all of these colliding feelings, worsening when he stimulates your bare clit. Bracing on the counter edge behind you. 

“Have you had anybody else since we split?” he asks, as if this is a great time to interrogate you on the flavors you’ve tried since breaking up with Anakin. Ever the selfish man, but like a fool you oblige him. 

“It’s none of your business—“ You interrupt yourself, yelping as he pinches your clit, rolling it between the tips of his flesh digits. 

“Oh, yeah? I’m the one about to fuck you, and it’s none of my business?” 

He seeks to tame you, and since you crave him more than anything else you bend to his will. “Look,” you stumble, your most vulnerable part susceptible to anything he sees fit. The thought thrilled you. “yes, okay? I did. I tried to screw you out of my system.” 

A depraved smile stretches onto his face, and to reward you for your honesty he circles your bud soothingly. “I see it didn’t work. Take your top off.” 

Like his bitch, you do as he says. 

“Play with them for me, princess, I love seeing those pretty tits.” 

Your countenance twists, cupping your chest, pinching your nipples in between the webs of your fingers. Abruptly, he plunges his two fingers inside, but you accept them with little to no effort. 

Usually, he’d take his time edging you, but judging by the strain in his pants, he doesn’t want to wait too long. Digits railing and curling inside you, showing you how loyal he is to making you cum. How he never forgot exactly how to finger you, touch all those spots you can never reach. Ones that nobody else can seem to find. 

Your orgasm didn’t need much else, crashing over you as soon as that coil in your belly snapped, making a mess on your nice counter. That high lingers, while Anakin undresses. As disgusting as it is, he gathers up some of your finish to lube himself up, recycling fluids and not bothering with a condom. He’s had you bareback countlessly before, why should this time be any different? You can barely hold it together, scooting closer to him, parting your legs further, presenting yourself to him like the greedy slut you are. 

“Can’t wait to fuck you, angel, you have no fucking idea. You know how many times I’ve fucked my fist to you? Fucked girls pretending they were you? Can’t even fool myself, no one’s got a tighter pussy than you.” 

His words make your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you stroke his ego in a whine while he aims, pumping his hard length in his hand, nudging your hole a couple times. “Nobody fucks me like you can, Anakin. Nobody.” His head pushes inside, and sinks further in, both of you groaning in unison. Perfectly filled, and perfectly sheathed. A lock and key, and he basks in the moment. 

“Fuck, baby,” 

His dick has always been formidable, but you wonder if the months you’ve spent apart has made your pussy forget how to accommodate him as comfortable as you used to. 

Like a ragdoll, you adhere to his every whim. Naked chest to chest, his thick arms pin you close, hugging you around your torso, while yours lay lazily around his neck. Hooded, lustful gazes meeting each other, his hand fisting in your hair to command the maintaining of your eye contact, while he slowly thrusts inside you. 

“Nobody’s my little fucktoy like you are.” His intense eyes are all you’re lost in when he spits such filthy words at you. You can only moan in response as he rolls his herculean body, curling up to hit your g-spot every time. 

“I don’t care what I am.” you say without thinking, your pussy slurping him up, taking whatever he gives you. “As long as I’m with you.” 

This obsessive, toxic necessity for each other, makes Anakin’s dick twitch, and he increases his pace, desperate for more from you. Hearing those devoted words while you look into his dilated eyes, it’s like a binding spell. He prays it works. 

Tangled in each other, he manages to bring his fingers up from your torso to his mouth, sucking two of them in to coat them in saliva. An image you don’t get tired of, entranced, as he looks deep into you, mouthing his own digits. He uses them to traverse your tailbone, dipping down into the crevice to find your bare asshole, circling it. Involuntarily, you clench down on his member, and he grins. “Bet you didn’t admit you like this to the other guys you’ve fucked.” 

He’s right, you’ve never been as sexually adventurous with anyone as you are with Anakin. He brings out such a disgusting side of you. Things that normally shame you, such as your own pleasure and fantasies, lose their distressing power as soon as Anakin’s in the picture. Having such a strong personality next to you, it inspires you, makes you feel safer when admitting your most base desires. “What? Anal?” The words punctuated with a gasp as the rim of your asshole reaches his knuckles. 

“No,” he laughs at you, like you’ve fallen into a trap, “your ex-boyfriend fucking you stupid. So bad you let him do anything he wants to you.” 

It’s true. You can hardly comment on it though, as he drills into both your holes, thrusting in tandem, until his bottoms out in both, until you swear the tips of his fingers and cock are grazing each other through your insides. Limp, you lull, swaying like waves of water pass around you. The sensation of bleak emptiness after each pulling out, only to be rudely awakened with each meeting of your bodies. Both of your holes loosen from lust to welcome in as much as possible. Anakin loves your perfect, little asshole— and shows it by fucking it raw with whatever he’s got. 

“Getting soaked.” The noise of it overwhelming your senses, your entire being just a mass of tingles, heat, and want. “Taking me so good, angel,” he praises, his fist in your hair tightening to sting, reminding you to force your eyes open, to hold his gaze while he abuses your holes. 

The position suffices, holding each other close, intimately, until he needs more room. Effortlessly, he lifts you up, biceps swelling while he hooks underneath your thigh and stabilizes you by your waist. He pins you up onto the wall, no space between the two of you as he buries his face into your neck, scraping his teeth against your flesh, panting through his nose as he fucks you. 

Senseless sounds tumble out of you, pleasure coursing through you like blood in your veins. Whenever you and Anakin fuck it’s like you’re revitalized, nothing else matters, it falls away. Nothing compared to the way he makes you feel when he’s inside you. Sucking on your earlobe, you hear how he grunts, the noise of your conjoined bodies flooding the rest of the room. 

A desperation instills within him, chasing his finish, which means his grip digs into you like you’ll run away if he doesn’t keep you here. The back of your head bumps against the wall, and you fix it there while he rails you. Your nails raking down his corded back. His muscle strains against you, spasming from the effort of holding you up, but this angle is too good for either of you to pass up. Besides, you love the way he looks when he’s showing off like this. 

“You feel so good, you feel so fucking good.” 

“Are you gonna cum in me? I want you to. Please? Please, fuck—“

“Still a slut for my cum.” he scoffs. 

You reach in between the heat and the sweat of your bodies, so you can rub your clit, chasing your own high, near tears from waiting. 

“Look at me, angel, I want you to look at me when you do it.” he tells you, backing up so he can see your face when you orgasm. Your brows upturn, whining in frustration. 

The dam breaks, and your walls flutter from the stimulation. Like a good girl, you fight to keep your eyes open, trembling as your core tightens instinctually around him. Euphoria conquers you, and it makes quick work of Anakin, hot spurts of his finish coating your insides with milky white, oozing around his length out of you. 

You slump, as he carefully lets you slide down onto your feet, but he’s the one keeping you upright. Breathing hard together, he rests his forehead onto your shoulder, planting leisured kisses where he can reach. 

“Maybe this can be a regular thing.” he murmurs against you, and you side eye him. “I make a shitty boyfriend, but I’m a hell of a lay.”

Early next morning, Anakin awakes to the sound of your shower running, and your awful singing. It puts an amused smile on his face. He plans to join you, but since he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, his stomach growls. It alerts him to rifle through your fridge for breakfast. In the kitchen, he steps over his discarded clothes, and no sooner had he picked out a bottle of protein yogurt from the shelf, had your doorbell rang. 

He gulps down some drink, but sets it down so he can pick up his pants, slipping them on. They’re black, thin, and hang low on his hips. It does the trick, trekking the cold floor with his bare feet to slide open the front door. 

A confused face greets him, and he waits for the stranger to speak first. 

“Uh… hello. Sorry to bother you, I didn’t realize she had…” He clears his throat, while Anakin stands unyielding to allow him inside. He looks Anakin up and down, avoiding his glare, “… roommates. Can you get her? I want to ask her to brunch.” 

“She’s not coming.” Anakin responds, and closes the door to the stranger’s protest. A friend of yours, perhaps. A special friend that you no longer need. 

If Anakin knows anything about the company you keep, they’re like him: obsessive. So he abandons his hunger, to invite himself to your shower. To distract you from that guy’s incessant knocking, or countless ringing tele-calls intending to interrogate you. 

Anakin keeps you to himself in the shower, for a little while longer, somehow convincing you to let him fuck you “just one more time.” 

[fleurriee]

— a routine of kisses ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; it’s routine for the two of you to tell one another i love you before succumbing to sleep, and neteyam can’t allow you to do so without uttering the words.

word count ; 1.8k

themes ; fluff, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; clingy neteyam if that counts but he’s cute so it’s kinda void??

author’s note ; i saw this & i couldn’t help myself so this fic is dedicated entirely to u, my lovely <3 @draiochtwrites​

main masterlist    request a fic!

You and Neteyam had just begun settling down for the night, the two of you moving from one side of the tent to the other, ensuring everything was the way it should be before leaving it for the entire night. The both of you moved with fairly sluggish movements, drained from the day you had just had - Neteyam had been strenuously teaching the younger hunter’s, a task that should’ve been easy but had turned out to be more difficult than he could’ve imagined, whilst you had been with the children of the clan, spending your time teaching and playing with them.

After the day the two of you had, nothing could stop you from falling straight into your mat.

With everything finally where it needed to be, your tent tidy and ready for its own rest, you exchanged a brief look with your mate, your tired expressions speaking for themselves. Huffing with exhaustion, you slowly made your way over to the mat, flopping down until your stomach was flat against the material and your face was smushed down.

You heard a faint chuckle from somewhere above you, your mate no doubt finding your actions amusing and dramatic. The next thing you feel is Neteyam’s stomach pressed firmly against your back, his warmth radiating into your system and making you bask in the comfort he’s offering. A smile makes its way onto your lips, sighing in relief at finally being able to succumb to your dreams.

Now settled in place, you feel content enough to let your dreams take you away to another place, a world where everything is perfect and euphoric... not entirely far off from your life you experience now. Though, your dreams are slowly but surely starting to add new, smaller additions into them alongside yourself and Neteyam.

Your mate curls himself somehow impossibly closer into your figure, his tail wrapping around your thigh like it always does, the end tapping against your skin in its contented excitement . His breath fans against your neck from where his face is squished, the sensation having tingles sent down your spine. “I love you,” he mumbles, words almost inaudible if it wasn’t for the fact you were expecting such a declaration of love.

It’s some sort of routine the two of you had picked up back after you had first mated, the both of you always making sure to say I love you before falling asleep. It wasn’t anything you had planned, it was just something that happened naturally, and now, you were stuck in such a pattern.

Well, stuck was probably the wrong way to describe it, because it wasn’t like you were annoyed by it. Except tonight, you were simply too drained. The day had taken a complete toll on you, practically knocking you out as soon as your head hit the floor, so your only response to your mate was an incoherent mumble that you hoped sounded a little like the words you meant.

You’re too tired to tell, but unknown to you, Neteyam is suddenly alert, wide awake. His eyes had shot open, furrowed in confusion whilst his tail subconsciously loosened its hold from your thigh. Completely puzzled by the entire situation, he’s unsure as to why you hadn’t said it back. You always said I love you back to him before falling asleep, a part of his days he arguably looked forward to the most, because there was nothing more thrilling, more special to him, than hearing his mate declare her love to him.

It wasn’t as though he needed the confirmation that you loved him - he saw the way you looked at him; the way you acted around him; the way you kissed him; the way you spent your nights with him. No, hearing you say I love you was more of a euphoric feeling he wanted to drown in for the rest of his life, and the next.

Not hearing you say the words after all this time since you’d been mated felt off. Neteyam props himself up on his elbows, slowly beginning to lean himself over your worn out figure, eyes raking over your features as you attempt to sleep. His mind screams how you look so beautiful even when you’re not trying to, but it’s too late now - he’s overthinking.

“Yawne (beloved)...” he starts, words just a hushed whisper, hesitant. He doesn’t want to wake you from you peaceful slumber you’ve so willingly fallen into, but he can’t seem to help himself. With a gruntled hum from you as his answer, his brows furrow, carrying on and leaning just slightly closer to your face. “You didn’t say it back...”

You hum again, your mind too foggy and out of it to really understand what your mate is saying from on top of you. All you can sense is that his warmth once radiating into you has slightly started to diminish, and it has you craving for the feeling once more. Instead, you snuggle for face in closer to the mat, your body squeezing against the floor for comfort.

Neteyam needs more than a hum. “Y/n, you didn’t say it back.” This time, his voice is a little louder, wanting you to grasp every word he’s saying, and why he’s saying them. He needs you say it back. Leaning all his weight on one elbow now, he brings his other hand up to rest against your arm, shaking it gently to garner your entire attention.

He can’t sleep without you doing this for him.

Grumbling, slowly starting to come to and bear your surroundings, you turn around, now lying on your back. Your squint your eyes up at him, the lids desperately wishing to close but you will them to open. His face is only inches from your own, eyes repeatedly fleeting from looking into each of yours, a mix of worry and confusion evident. “What?” Your voice is hoarse already from having only fallen slightly asleep for just a few moments, hand rubbing your face tiredly. “Didn’t say what back?”

He’s quick with his words, desperate almost. “I love you.” Once the truth is out in the open, you realise your previous mistake of having not said the words that are so precious to your mate. A small sigh escapes your lips, eyes closing for a moment, licking your lips in contemplation. You knew it was routine for the two of you, you just hadn’t realised it meant this much to him. However, before you can even begin uttering the words he’s aching for, he takes notice of your expression, and mistakenly takes it for something else, eyes now pooling with plead for you to see his reasons. “You always say it back. What if something happens and you never said it back? I know you love me - I mean, we’re mates - but it’s ritual for us. You have to say I love you back. I need to know that you love me-”

Another sigh falls from your lips, this one accompanied by a tired chuckle from your mate’s antics. Instantly noticing that he’s isn’t about to stop in his ramblings any time soon, you reach your hand up to press it gently against his cheek. At the feeling of you close to him, his words trail off, eyes gazing down into your own. “Neteyam,” your words are softer than before, now that you know his problem. “Nothing is going to happen to either of us - we’re just going to sleep.”

In your attempt to reassure him, you can see that it does something within his system, but it’s still obvious he’s waiting for more. A pout forms on his lips when you don’t say what he wants you to, and despite wanting absolutely nothing more than to fall back asleep and not wake up until the sun was beginning to rise, you can’t help but take notice of how adorable he looks above you. Your hand snakes its way from his cheek to the back of his neck, a smile full of pure adoration caressing your features as you lean yourself higher to kiss his childish emotions away. Pulling back, you keep your lips close to his, whispering against them. “I love you, ma’teyam.”

You drop back down against the mat, keeping your eyes trained on his as he starts to smile wildly now that he’s heard you say it. Feeling your heart fluttering within your chest at the sight above you, you feel content that he can calmly fall asleep beside you now.

But, Neteyam clearly had other ideas, for you can still feel his lingering presence as he doesn’t move. When you open your eyes again, expecting to find him saying something else, you only find him smiling dumbly down at you, seemingly lost within his own world.

“What-?” You begin to question, brows furrowing as you think what he could possibly want now, when you’re suddenly cut off by an array of kisses pressed forcefully all over your features. Neteyam doesn’t pause for breath, continuously kissing one side of your face to the other - from your forehead, to your cheeks, to your nose, to your chin, everywhere but where you want him to be the most.

His hands now holding their grip against your waist, thumbs pressing light indentations within your skin, giggles tumble from your lips at the overload of sudden sensations. He doesn’t cease, though - if anything, it seems to spur him on, too caught up in the love he wishes to scream out for the world to hear. You reach your hands out to lay them against his back, repeatedly tapping for him to move. “Neteyam, stop!” You yell as quietly as you can, small laughs lingering within your words, loving the attention he has for you.

Not once does he stop, but he does slow down. This time, his lips linger against your temple, breathing his words into your skin, making sure they truly find their way home. “Ewya, I love you so much.”

If you didn’t concentrate enough, you were sure your eyes would spill over with tears. It’s painfully obvious how much he means those words, just from the seriousness in his voice, and when he pulls away, face inches above your own as your noses rub against one another, his eyes speak more than words ever could.

Everyday, you thank your lucky stars that Ewya had chosen Neteyam for you, not knowing what you’d do without him by your side, even when he woke you up simply because you forgot to tell him you loved him - a fact the entire clan already knew.

Catching your breath, a giddy smile upon your lips, you push a fallen braid back behind his ear so you can have the view of his entirety. So beautiful, you thought. “Nga yawne lu oer (I love you).” This time, you bring him down to you, smashing your lips together in an intimate, clashing kiss.

Now, you know to not forget the words next time. Although, if it always ended up like this, whose to say you wouldn’t purposefully forget?

taglist ;

@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums​ @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Reactions

synopsis: mafia boss enhypen reaction to your death. (hyungline)

genre: angst

warnings: mentions of death and violence.

note: this is just short. been checking my drafts and saw this one. anyway, let me know if you want maknae line version! replies and reblogs are highly encouraged. ily and stay safe.

eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.

lee heeseung

lee heeseung won’t take it very well. he will be beyond broken. he didn’t just lose the love of his life, his other half but also the one who kept him in peace.

he will not stop until he took his revenge for you. making sure none of those people involve to your painful death will be alive. he will make them suffer. he will inflict every pain you went through but in much worst way.

after revenge, he will vanish into the mafia world like as if he never even existed. he will buy a beautiful house in a very isolated place, somewhere peaceful. a place you will surely like.

“its beautiful here, right love?” he whispers softly while leaning over the railings of the balcony. the clear blue ocean can be seen from the house, it was the perfect scenery.

“i should’ve listened when you said we should leave that kind of life...” his voice cracks and tears slowly pools at the side of his eyes. his chest tightening just by remembering your beautiful face, regret and longing poisining his whole system.

his grip over the metal railing tightens, knuckles turning pale. “it was my fault.” he bit his lower lip as a tear escapes his eyes.

heeseung lived there ever since. he starts to living his life through the memories of the two of you he kept inside his mind. he made himself believe that you are still there with him. he doesn’t care if he feels pain by this method. his wounds from losing you never healing but he doesn’t care. he just wants to feel you around. he wants to be with you. he wants to hold and kiss you like old times. he will live his remaining days acting like as if you are still alive, making himself suffer even more.

park jongseong

“i’m so sorry, jay.” he pushed his friend away and went to grab his gun before heading towards his car.

he ignored his friends calling his name and just starting driving towards somewhere. the image of your pale skin and lifeless body kept flashing back in his mind. and every time, it feels like a new knife is being stab to his heart. each one deeper than the first ones.

“i’m going to kill all of you.” he coldly spat and continued ending the lives of the people who wronged you.

he can’t believe it. he wanted to scream to the world. curse everyone out for what’s happening. he has never hated being alive this way before. he just lost his other half. he feels like he's already dead as well.

“hey, baby.” he greets lowly, trying to pull a small smile while he sets down a new flower to your grave.

his eyes settles to the flower he just brought yesterday. “i miss you so bad.” his eyes shakes, tears attempting to escape.

he never felt this vulnerable before. he felt lost and dead inside. nothing excites him anymore. he stretches his arm and rests his palm to touch your gravestone. he was gentle, like you’re the one he was holding.

“i wish you are here, baby. i won’t be this miserable with you.”

jake sim

jake held your hand tightly, his lips rests on top of it while staring at your pale face. he’s been like this for hours ever since you passed away. he was denial. he never spoke a word for hours, his tearful eyes enough to show how much pain he’s going through.

“you’re so cold, sweetheart...” his lips shakes a bit as he tries to pull up a smile, still being denial of losing you.

“you’ve been sleeping for a while now,” his voice cracks along with his heart. “please wake up now, hm?”

jake cries even harder when he didn’t receive any response from you. he stayed that way until one of his friends pulls him away because you’re body needs to be taken away. it wasn’t easy to do that as he fights while thinking of being separated with you.

“jake, you have to eat. you will get sick if you keep doing this.” his mother cries while staring at him. he looked lifeless.

“better. in that way i will see her again.” he spat mindlessly that made his mother cry even more, pulling him in an embrace.

“stop saying that! do you think she will like it if you keep acting this way?”

jake looked emotionless. he feels bad seeing his mother cry. but he just can’t continue living if you aren’t with him anymore. he loves you so much. you are the love of his life, the one who kept him alive. and now that you are gone, life is meaningless.

“if i die, i will see her again, right? we will be together, right?” he hopes, tear escaping his eyes making his mother rub his back carefully, crying even harder feeling bad for his son.

park sunghoon

sunghoon’s feet are glued at the floor, body stiffened while staring blankly at your cold body. his eyes went blank, doesn’t want to believe it.

“what the hell...” he utter, “is this?” while trying to deny the reality.

sunghoon will be disruptive. hell will rise, he will explode. he just lost the only person that kept him sane and his the perso he cherish the most.

he hovers somebody and kept stabbing that person straight to his heart. he ignores his whimpers and just continued, blood splashing to him but he’s unbothered. his eyes are dark and deadly.

“s-stop!” the man pleads but he couldn’t hear anything. his mind sets for nothing but to avenge his woman.

“bring her back! fucking bring her back to me! i will make sure you will end up in hell!” he screams continuously, tears streaming down his face.

“bring her back to me!” countless dead bodies scatters around and he was already showering with blood.

he exploded and there's no stopping him. he will be more ruthless, worst now that you aren’t there to calm him down. the monster inside him awoken.

“you are killing too many people, sunghoon. this is not good, many mafia families are bothered by your behavior. if you continue, you will make more enemies. they won’t stop until you’re dead.”

sunghoon ignores it and reloads his gun silently. “this world sucks anyway.”

permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @love13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @ayayiiie @aeyeree @heeseung-min @in-somnias-world @psh-pjh @hveanlyanqelic

[stevesgother]

Savior Complex - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.9k

Warnings - Blood. Mention of vomit. Partial nudity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Authors note - This is my first fic...ever. Constructive criticism always welcome but pls be nice. Takes place directly after the events of S3. Hurt/comfort, angst, acknowledging Steve’s trauma bc damn.

Summary: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending but not a lot of resolution, friends to ? lovers? idk its up to you!

Inspired by my favorite poem of all time, that has always reminded me a little bit of Steve.

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch”

The air inside Steve’s car was heavy with tension and the thick July heat.

You sat parked in his driveway, the rest of The Party having dispersed to their own homes; their parents waiting for them with open arms and misty eyes. 

Not you. 

And Certainly not Steve Harrington.

You and Steve weren’t what you would call “close”. Until now, that is. Shared trauma tends to have that effect. He knew you had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, and it didn’t take much deducing to realize his parents weren’t in the picture. Barely in Indiana, let alone spending anything close to quality time with their only son.

The idea of spending the last few hours of this nightmarishly long day in his big, empty house was sounding lovelier by the minute. On the grounds that it ‘wasn’t safe to be alone right now’. You didn’t read too much into it; he was right, after all. Part of you wonders if he just didn’t want to be alone. Sluggish, and noticeably more bloodied than you, Steve made his way to the front door with you in tow. His house was silent; eerily so. Everything pristine and well manicured, as if no one lived there at all. 

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs, and a bathroom down the hall, to the right. Towels in the cabinet next to the shower.” He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. You try not to feel like you’re burdening him, blaming his avoidance on the exhaustion and not the unwelcome presence of you in his home.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He finally meets your gaze. The shiner he sports on his left eye is still swollen, but less so. The front of his sailor suit you once thought so endearing, is now stained with blood and vomit.

“You’re bleeding.” You say quietly. “You have -” you wince, “- open wounds on your face Steve. Probably a concussion too and that’s if we’re being modest.”

He wears a tight-lipped expression you can’t quite read. You can tell he’s frustrated, and his exhaustion is bone deep. It nags at your heart. Maybe that’s why you don’t just drop it when he answers you.

“Not my first rodeo, I’ll be fine just-” He pauses, “go shower, and get some rest. God knows this shit won’t just be over come tomorrow.”

You take a tentative step forward. “Please just…just let me help. I can disinfect the cuts around your eye. I was a girl scout! Though in hindsight I realize how useless that sounds and-” you’re rambling now; nervous.

“Stop.” You’re taken aback slightly by his tone, you haven’t known Steve to act hostile. Not in a long time. “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not ‘pity’ Steve! Why is it so hard for you to believe someone might want to help you?” You take a step forward from where you stand a few feet from him. You reach up to touch his forehead with the hope of better assessing his injuries.

‘Enough!” He swats your hand away, “God, I should’ve never offered for you to stay here. You think you’re some type of savior, but you’re not.”

His words feel like a knife to the chest. You knew what he was trying to do, you knew he didn’t really mean the things he said. Not when he’s like this. For the first time since you arrived tonight, you thought of how many times he’s had to come back to this empty, soulless house all alone. Damaged, emotionally and physically. Wounds he’s had to patch alone. No gentle caress of another’s hands. Just the stinging of antiseptic in his nostrils, and the heaviness of everyone he’s ever loved abandoning him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, shaking your head in a disbelieving way.

He laughs, humorless, “Yes I do. I really, really do.” A bitter sharpness to his words. It burns like liquor washing down your throat. “Go.” 

“No!” Now you’re the one raising your voice. “Being stubborn is for when someone is haggling you at a flea market. Not when someone is trying to love you.”

Love. You realize what you’ve said a beat too late, but you stand defiant despite it. You do love Steve. This fact, collecting cobwebs in the back of your brain for months, being spat out onto the floor in front of you both is what compels you to what you do next.

Steve, who was previously standing with this index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, is now staring at you like a deer in headlights. Before either of you can blink, you’re closing the gap between the two of you, sure of yourself. You wrap him in a suffocating embrace and he struggles against your grip.

“Stop! Please I don’t need you-” He all but shouts. Still, you sense a dent in the armor.  A crack in the wall he’s spent so long building to keep you out; to keep everyone out.

Eventually, he stops struggling. His knees give out from underneath him as the trauma and the pain and the events of today catch up to him. But not just today; a year ago when his girlfriend broke his heart at Tina’s stupid party. When Michael Harrington cut him off on the grounds of him being a disgrace to the family name. Everything flooding back to him all at once. Everything he’s spent his youth avoiding.

You sink to the ground with him, still holding him tight. He stops making an effort to hide his sobs, but instead clings to you like you’re the only tangible thing keeping him here. You sit beside him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulders and your free hand cradling his head to his chest so he can hear your heartbeat. A heart that finally beats for him.

“I know.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The hair you’re gently stroking, which is usually so voluminous and perfectly styled, is now dampened with blood and sweat.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, “I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m not sorry.” 

He cries harder at that. Shoulders shaking and breath shallow, he looks at you. You cradle his sweet, bruised face in your hands. You think, like a pomegranate, Steve Harrington is beautiful, and worth the mess. Wiping his tears with your thumbs and careful to avoid the cuts and swelling that decorate his face, you give him a smile. Shy, but earnest.

“Can you take me to bed?” He asks you, eyes bleary.

–

Neither of you speak as you turn on the faucet and watch the porcelain tub fill with scalding hot water; still not hot enough to wash away the memories this day has tainted you both with forever. Tentatively, you lift your shirt over your head, and slip your shorts down your scraped legs, revealing your mismatched bra and underwear. A pang of guilt washes over you when you look down and realize Steve took the brunt of the Russian soldiers. He was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met.

You give him a look that asks “is this okay?” as your fingertips brush the cotton of his ruined Scoops uniform. You aren’t sure what the boundaries are anymore. Momentarily Steve worries this will irreparably change things between you two. He nods anyway. You lift the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse at the real extent of his injuries. His ribs were badly bruised, and he had clotting cuts all over his abdomen. Something swirls in your stomach at the sight of his chest hair. You wish the circumstances of this moment were different.

He pulls his own pants and socks down with a hiss, eyes screwed shut, leaving you both in just your undergarments. He steps into the tub and slowly sinks beneath the hot water. You step in behind him, and he looks over his shoulder at you, a look of confusion contorting his features. You don’t bother to explain, for the fear that speaking would break the trance you both seemingly were under. You had built a space here for each other, one you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Sitting behind him now, you wrap your arms around his chest and pull him flush to you. You rest your chin in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and close your eyes. You can feel how he tries to match his breathing to yours; slow and rhythmic.

You reach up to the hanging shelf on the wall above your head, and grab the cedar and sandalwood body wash. The second you open the bottle, your senses are flooded with him. Only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever get to smell his scent in any way other than passing. A slight brush of shoulders in the hallway; a friendly hug when you’d gotten back from a month long vacation.

With a dollop of body wash on a washcloth you found on the edge of the tub, you gently start to scrub the blood and grime off his freckled skin. Like this, you can see every birthmark, every scar, the way the hair at the nape of his neck curls up around his ears in the damp bathroom air.

Steve rests his calloused hand on your knee and squeezes. A silent reassurance that what you’re doing is okay, that he’s okay, that he’s here. Everything feels overwhelmingly intimate as your hands explore his body. You lather his thick, brown locks with the shampoo you found next to the soap. With a heavy sigh, Steve allows his head to fall back into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t tell you, but this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in the tub together, but at some point he turns to face you, cupping your jaw in his larger hand. The look he gives you is so tender, you think you might cry. His caramel eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes, so fast you would’ve missed it if your senses weren’t dialed up to 11.

With the delicacy of someone touching a flower petal, he closes the gap and presses his cut lips to your soft ones. Hesitant at first, giving you the option to pull away. He fears he may have misread the moment when you separate from him, a look in your eyes that he can’t read. His worry dissipates as you take his face into both of your hands and kiss him deep and slow. You only break when the air feels too stiff to continue, the water droplets accumulating in the air and Steve's kiss making it difficult to catch your breath. His hands slide from where they were grasping your hair, and down to your neck where they stay.

“I love you, too.”

[wosoamazing]

Injured

warnings: vomit, injury

A/N: just a kind of random short fic, I hope you like it.

The throbbing in your head continues to worsen, your head feels like it’s going to explode with every beat of your heart. You feel sick to your stomach. Each tiny little movement in your body makes your stomach roll. Your ankle hurts, it’s almost definitely broken,  the medics have given Sam and Steph the Green Whistle to hold for you hoping you would use it but you have flatly refused it so far. The sick feeling in your stomachs starts to worsen, you lean the rest of your body weight into Sam in hopes it will help somehow, but it doesn’t, your face changes, a face Sam doesn’t recognise but Steph does, she quickly jumps into action.

“Do you have a bowl or something?” Steph asks the medics “She’s going to be sick,” to those words the medics swiftly hand her an emesis bag, and place a few more beside her just encase. You start to gag, as Steph brings the bag up to your mouth, you clearly in no state to hold it yourself, Sam rubs your back as you gag a few more times but nothing comes up, you let out a little whimper as you collapse back into Sam’s body. Tears start to roll down your checks and Steph rubs your arm in an effort to reassure you. You see the bright orange stretcher being carried on and your universe breaks, you have made it your mission not to have to use one but today you have no choice, even you know you need it, and to make everything worse Leah’s not here, maybe you should’ve chosen the Lionesses, in this moment it would’ve meant that you had your sister next to you. Your body starts to shake from your sobs, you try to speak but it doesn’t work. “Hey, hey, it’s okay take some deep breaths.” Steph says, you take four depth breaths following Steph’s lead.

“Le-Leah, I want Leah” you cry out.

“I know bug, but she can’t come right now, what if we face time her once we are in the medical room” you nod slightly at Steph’s suggestion.

“Okay we’re going to move you onto the stretcher now” one of the medics inform you, with quite a lot of pain and not much ease you were taken through to the medical suite, the medics did some scans before they took you to your team medical room in the back of the locker room. Steph sits behind you on the bed as you lean your weight into her, a boot wraps around your foot, tears stream down your face, to put it lightly the x-rays were not a fun time at all, although Steph and Sam might’ve had it worse, they stood outside the room as they heard you sob in pain wanting nothing more than to be in there with you comforting you, but they weren’t allowed too.

“Here she is,” Sam says as she walks back in.

“Hey bug how are you?” a familiar voice warms your ears. You don’t reply just smile which is enough for her, the familiar sound of her voice relaxes you as you doze off, Sam and Steph talk to her for a while before saying their goodbyes. The peaceful feeling in the room quickly evaporates when you wake up, you gag and Steph and Sam react quickly, Steph helps you sit up more and Sam grabs the emesis bag, but it’s too late, the contents of you stomach are all over you, the bed and unfortunately some is even on Steph, you burst into tears, which doesn’t help the situation as somehow you’re sick again, this time though Sam managed to catch it. Once the pair are happy, you’re okay and not going to be sick again, Sam goes to get a medic, and Steph leans you back into her, helping you take of your now vomit covered shirt. “S-Sorry” you cry out feeling terrible for what just happened. “Hey, its okay, it’s not your fault, you got hurt, okay?” you nod, which wasn’t the best idea as it starts to make the room spin. “Do you want to have a shower now? We can help, we’ll keep you in your undies and crop top” you give Steph a thumbs up.

Sam returns with a medic, “sorry” she says as they enter.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, this is nothing, I’ve seen patients do way worse” the medic replies.

“Um we were thinking of maybe getting a shower, is that okay, we will go in with her” Steph asks the medic, who smiles at her “Of course darling, just take the boot off and carry her down will probably be easiest. As she is alert and orientated, so I’m no too concerned about the vomiting, as it could be from the pain she is in,”

“Okay thank you.” Sam says to the medic.

“Okay, I’m going to slide out from behind you and Sam is going to take your boot off and I’ll pick you up and take you to the showers, okay” Steph lets you know their every move. “Thank-you” you whisper in her ear as she carries you, getting you showered wasn’t the hard part but getting you dressed was, after your shower Sam took over so Steph could have a quick shower, as much as you adored Sam the loss of the constant and familiar reassurance made you whimper, you sat in your locker while Sam put your boot on. Sam was about to help you move over to the bench in the locker room so you could be comfier when Steph came out of her record fast shower.

“Hey Sam,” Sam looked up, “I’m all done, I’ve got her now, go get a shower quickly then we can get on the bus before the rest come in” Sam nods. Steph picks you up and cradles you in her lap, and you start to doze off, Steph is relieved as she knows if you’re asleep you can’t feel the pain, she shots a quick message to Tony updating him and not long after Sam comes out. Sam gets all three of your bags packed up and they start to head out, Steph carrying you, Sam carrying all your stuff, they’re walking along the corridor when Steph suddenly stops.

“Steph, what’s wrong?”

“Do you have sunnies?”

“Um yeah I think I actually do,” she rummages through her bag and manages to find a pair, she slips them onto your face, and they start walking again.

They manage to climb onto the bus and into a set of seats, Steph sitting with her back against the window of the bus with you in her lap, leaning back on her. They are a set of four from the front as they know when the rest of the girls get on the bus it will be loud, not because of the girls but because of the press.

This time Sam messages Tony letting him know you’re on the bus and asking if he can get the girls to stay silent while they enter.

Just as Tony messages to let the girls know the game is finished and that the others are just having quick showers and they will be there soon, you wake up to an all familiar feeling, however this time your captains are prepared and know the signs, so Steph notices you and quickly holds up the emesis bag for you, in which you are relieved that you do not have to relive the events of earlier, once you are finished you start to cry, you hate being sick, Steph wraps her free arm around you trying to comfort you, Sam hands Steph a new emesis bag and takes the old one, she leaves the bus in order to find a bin in which she does and returns at the same time the girls start to show up. Sam again asks them to be quiet as the enter which they are more than happy to do for their little teammate, as they get on the bus, they all smile softly at you, not wanting to speak just encase, Harper gave you a very gentle hug as she boarded the bus with her Mum, which warmed everyone’s hearts. You had fallen back asleep before the bus started to move and slept the whole trip.

[pigeonpeach]

Yandere Genshin

Prompt: youve caught their eye but… you’re already taken… that won’t be a problem…

Cw: yandere duh, mentions of murder and violence, manipulation, kidnapping, etc. fem reader

Characters: Jean, Diluc,Yelan, Neuvillete

Jean finds herself more and more infuriated with your commitment everyday. A simple hunter from Springvale is the one that catches your eye? How absurd! She knew she should’ve been more forward with her tatics. Oh this frustration and heartbreak has been tormenting her, impacting her work ethic as she tries to give you space. But its hard because you work for her. A cutesy little maid. You belong to her.. you’re everything she could want in a partner. So delicate, so plump, you’re the perfect bride. There’s no way she’s letting a man who can’t read s kid’s book without struggle surpass her!

So… she staged a little accident lets say.. she happened to cut the patrols in the area, making them closer to the city itself. That way there still was protection for the city… just not for the hunters. For awhile they’d been complaining sbout how the patrols spooked the boar. Even though those patrols were meant to cut down and discourage hilichurl camps. From a political perspective she just gave the hunters what they wanted. To up the anti more she had Kaeya tell him about a legendary boar deep into the wilderness. How the boars get bigger in hilichurl camps because they’ve started to fence them off and fatten them up, if he goes at night when they’re asleep, he could surely nail himself a big boar and pass it as a authentic catch…

The short of it was this. Your almost boyfriend snuck into one of the biggest hilichurl camps without the knights patroling nearby. And Kaeya knowing Jean’s work was negatively impacted by him.. may or may not have done something to alert the hilichurls to the the intruder. Quickly he was overwhelmed and beaten. With no knight in sight he was all alone. His struggle only made the hilichurls more violent. They threw him out, beaten to a pulp. When he saw Kaeya he was relieved thinking he was saved. But Kaeya had orders to finish the job of need be.

His death? A accident. Later hunters found him rotting near the camp, no foul play found. No one knew of his idea or who gave it to him, or who gave that person the idea. In your devastation you ended up right in her arms weeping.

“I am so sorry for your loss. I’ll make sure patrols return to normal and those camps are wiped out soon enough. I won’t let you experience such hardship ever again.” Crying to your boss felt so unprofessional but Jean was just so comforting to you. You had been putting on a brave face until now. You stood as she held you. “Lisa bought me this tea recently. It helps to steady my mind when I’m stressed, would you like me to give you some. I know it won’t remove your pain but it should help you somewhat. Unfortunately I can’t give you time off as two others are currently sick. But once they’re back I’ll give you some vacation okay?” She wiped your tears as you nodded.

“Th-that’s reasonable.. th-thank you.. oh god i must be such a burden. You’re already so stressed i didn’t mean to make it worse for you-“

“That’s not the case at all. I care about you. I want you to be safe and happy as every citizen in Mondstadt should be.” She kissed your forehead as she handed you the cup she prepared. “Here drink some tea. It was originally for me but I figure you need it more. I haven’t dranken from it.”

“Y-you’re sure that’s okay? I don’t mind waiting for another cup.” You asked. Oh how innocent you looked. Jean hated how she had to come to this, asking Lisa for a love spell to be put into the tea. But she couldn’t risk doing this to every suitor who got close to success. She needed to make sure you chose her otherwise she might go further next time.

“Its fine.” She said. You drank it with no further complaints.

Diluc was certain this was some sick prank. You, his beloved little maid, in love with nothing more than a simple merchant? Its not uncommon for the route from dawn winery to be used. But a certain merchant he purchased seeds from seemed to be getting far too close to you. Sure you two weren’t dating, he hadn’t even made the first step. But now he was absolutely was going to take drastic measures.

The first step: Distract you. You found yourself being assigned to chores more indoors an less outdoors. Diluc could sense how you would look out beyond hoping to see him again and he didn’t want that to continue. The second step was to lure said merchant back on a day you weren’t working. His arrival was horrible as the maids had all gone home leaving Diluc and Adelinde to recieve him, on a new moon, there was no moon to illuminate his path home so Diluc offered him to stay the night. He thought of this gratefully, originally the death Diluc planned was a simple killed in his sleep. But when he asked about you… oh it activated something in him. He even brought you a gift… how thoughtful… Diluc struggled to maintain his composure.

The merchant never did make it past the night. Despite his struggles. His body found beneath the bridge near Stone Gate. A investigation launched but ultimately blamed on bandits. With it his gift was smashed. You were devastated yes but your employer seemed to suddenly be more attentive than usual. He offered you meals and tea. Often requesting just to talk to you.

“Its getting late. I really should be going.” You set the tea cup back. “This was nice though. I wouldn’t mind doing this again but… oh.. is it raining?” You look out to see water coating the windows as what sounding like rain came from outside.

“Oh my it appears to be. At this hour you would be most vulnerable if you left now. You have no pets correct?”

“No.. oh dear…” you silently began to worry.

“You could always.. stay over. There is many a guest room and there’s spare pajamas for you. I’m certain it’ll be better than getting sick. Besides there’s bandits on the roads at these hours. You remember what happened to that merchant.” His voice luring you to s false sense of safety.

“Yes… I’ve been quite nervous going home now to be honest. Do you know if they ever found who did it?”

“Still nothing. Guards are posted more though. But it wpuld be easier. You do have a early shift here anyways in the morning so you wouldn’t need to go home right away. If that sounds alright.” He says, you jolted slightly as his hand gently grazed yours as you held your jacket. At that moment thunder clapped, startling you.

“I suppose that makes sene. I’ll take you up on that offer then..” you smiled shyly.

“I’ll lead you to your room then.”

He wasn’t going to let you leave.

(A/n: this is a alternative route to my other work Yelan vs Pantalone, dont consider this cannon to that piece but as its own spinoff)

Everyone has secrets. And Yelan’s is the fact that she stole a bride straight from Pantalone. It was mostly just to spite him, and also because she’s a sucker for a pretty face and couldn’t stand letting that happen. But oh they’re far more irresistible than she could’ve imagined. Now that they’re safely hidden in the jade chamber, working as a intern. She’s been visiting them when she comes to visit Ninguang, lucky her that Ninguang would allow her little damsel to stay in the jade chamber. But while her back was turned to her former life, she set her eyes on the people once known as parents to them. Her little Damsel cannot return to her former identity ever. And thus its better for her to believe that Pantalone went back on his word and killed them.

And that’s exactly what ended up happening. The Fatui’s search was halted and stopped because the Millieth wasn’t going to let the Fatui kill civilians just because they lost a bride. Even though they insisted they didn’t all signs pointed to that. She then forged documents to show to her beloved little damsel that this was the plan from the beginning, that Pantalone would have killed her parents upon acquiring her. Like the others so far, she used this opportunity to soothe them and bring them closer. At least this way they are alive and safe rather than in the hands of their families killer. Only… they are infact in the arms of their families killer. All seemed well until some stupid guard started poking around. He seemed more interested in courting them, believing they myst secretly be from s powerful family outside of Liyue and hiding. It was a rumor she purposely started to cover for their true identity. But now it backfired as this man saw a opportunity to climb up the social ladder. She isn’t quite sure what his exact plan was but her guess was he intended to make her fall for him and then marry him when she returned to her life, this guaranteeing a life of luxury. Unfortunately for him that won’t be the case. But Yelan can’t go killing her own. So she decided to simply use her influence to have him demoted to ground work instead. Convincing Ningguang that if allowed to stay he’ll uncover their scheme. The reason given to him was that apparently he was too loud or social than was acceptable in such environments. Afterwards he died to a hilichurl raid. Whoops.

“You.. you got my stuff?” You were surprised when she came to you with a crate.

“Yes, since legally you’re dead, your parents stuff was sold at auction at request of your family members. I grabbed what I remembered you valued myself.” She said with s smile as you beamed at the sight of your old things.

“It won’t raise suspicions will it?” Yu asked.

“I won’t let it. Don’t worry your pretty little head about the details.” She said patting you.

“I-i don’t know what I could do to repay you. You’ve done so much for me i-i truly have never had someone like you in my life.” You looked at her expecting a sort of humble brush off or something to actually be named.

“A date would be nice. Once everything cools down of course.” Her voice was like a purr, making you flustered.

“O-oh sure.. as long as it won’t cause you any trouble.”

“Perfect.” She said. You didn’t see it but she was considering drugging your tea that sat on the table behind her. A love potion, how typical but how effective. But seeing your blush she could tell you had infact fallen for her already. Which made the potion more of a backup if you ever lost feelings.

Neuvillete is anything but dishonest. But… seeing you cling to the arm of a guard, how happy you two looked.. it left him green with envy and red with wrath. To control himself he decided to simply change the guards routine to be out of your way. But you just went to meet them after work. His favorite little employee falling for the guard rather than him.. he felt deeply insulted.

Time for more drastic measures. He asks a favor from the clueless and happy Sedene (a simple melusine) to sneak into his house. To which she happens to find something. Just as planned he spends his time arranging scenarios to increase suspicion causing the other guards perform a check up right as he is planted with primordial sea water. He is quickly taken away to be questioned. Meanwhile you are distraught. You never thought him capable of such feats. But alas he was hardly the man you thought he was.

“I-I’m so sorry.. i truly didn’t know anything… i- Oh god ll this time..” you were hyperventilating as you were brought into questioning. “I-i.. oh god.. am i in danger? I could’ve ended up just like those missing girls..” Neuvillette’s hands reached out to your space as if to tell you to quiet down.

“I understand this situation is difficult. If necessary I’ll give you a moment to compose yourself. There isn’t any reason I have to suspect you but I still have to take precautions. You agreed to the random house search and no trace of seawater was found. I’m simply asking if he told you of anything suspicious or gave you any implications of his true nature.” He lowered his voice in a more gentle manner than he would in court. You sniffled as you wiped your tears.

“He.. he did keep inviting me to his place. I never went though. I didn’t think we were far along to do such things.. you know like… intimacy..” you nervously muttered. He still heard you, he was pleased to know you two didn’t get too serious.

“Were you two officially a couple?”

“No.. but we were close… i was going to ask him but then this all happened and… you know the story from there.”

“Hmm.. I see. It appears you infact were a target. Is there any reason you can think of?” He says. The sight of you so heartbroken and shaking is strangely attractive to him. So timid, so easily manipulated.

“No.. no not at all.. i don’t understand why?” You seemed more and more frightened. “S-should i not leave the house for a bit. This sounds very scary.. i don’t know if I can continue my routine as normal like this!” You whimpered as your hands seemed to get closer to your body. As if you retreating into she’ll to hide in.

“Fear not, I’ll have the secret patrol watch over. And each guard will undergo inspections from here onward. But i will be seeing you more. I want at least weekly updates to know of any strange activities or unexpected changes. Understand?” He said. You nodded. “With my life, I promise you, you will be safe. And I will let no harm come to you.. ever.”

[cheesit-notes]

Simon Riley + Hand Kisses

tags: kissing obviously, ptsd for simon basically, gn!reader, overthinking simon, simon getting violent at one point, a/n: sorry i was gone for a week! i want to say i worked on stuff but ive been busy with things and this was the only thing i did. im not all that happy with the time to result ratio of this tbh but i love the idea of Simonand hand kisses so enjoy!

Ghost who cannot stand any and all kinds of intimate touches. he doesn’t like intimate touches. no, actually, he loathes those touches. it reminds him of a time he’d really rather forget. there’s no way to really kiss him without having to slowly practice. underneath the mask, he’s nothing more than the emotionally scarred, vulnerable Simon Riley who went through far too much for any human.

the first time both of you technically kissed, you had asked if you could kiss him, he said yes because you looked like you wanted it so badly. the two of you stood awkwardly in his barracks. he’s wondering if he should’ve changed clothes earlier, he just got back and was still in his uniform, probably smelled fowl, but you didn’t say a word. ah, he thought he could handle it. he really did. but to kiss was a lot easier said than done. and he’ll never fully forgive himself for shoving you away slamming you against the wall, and he was choking you. he didn’t actually hit you, you tell him that everyday, but the fact he fully intended to hit you for the moment scared him. plagued with the thought that he truly was no different from his father; he could barely look at you for the weeks following that, much less talk to you. no, he refused to do so much as to stand near you; petrified he wouldn’t snap out of it in time, terrified he’d hurt you.

months later, he asked if it’s alright to try again. the kissing thing, you know? it was months after the previous attempt, you and Simon had already reconciled, as much as possible anyways, so the question left you a little confused. you were happy to, but only if he was really ready. and he said he was, he swore it. although.. looking at you, thinking back about the previous attempt, made him anxious. but he already said he would. so he should? he should stick to his words, right? youd probably think hes a coward. god, a man shouldnt be a coward. and he cant be a coward. and all these thoughts ran through his mind. he doesnt realize he’s zoned out and that you’re staring at him with a concerned look on your face. its not until you decide to speak does he snap back.

“are you sure you want to do this?”

he’s not even sure what to respond. what did he want?  he’s only really thought about what you wanted. it’s not like his wants really mattered in his eyes.

“you know, we don’t have to do this. we can still have a perfectly fine relationship without–”

“no! absolutely, no, we.. we have to kiss.”

he insisted, almost yelling like he’s afraid he wouldn’t be heard. and that you’d leave him because you’d think he couldn’t kiss you, because he couldn't give you of a normal relationship. and you deserved it. you deserved a normal relationship with someone who could give you what you wanted. and god, he wishes he were normal.

anyone could tell he was agitated. honestly, it isn’t easy for you. you could tell he wouldn’t handle it well if you kissed him directly. but if you didn’t then he’d isolate himself, thoughts spiralling like a roller coaster in his mind, and you couldn’t be sure when or where the ride ended. so, grab his hands, hold them in yours, and plant a gentle kiss on each. you hold his hands, looking into his eyes, and for what felt like hours, the two of you stayed put like that. until Simon told you to leave.

it caught you off guard, you’re a little taken back. but respecting his wishes, you leave the room. not even a minute after you leave, Simon slumps against the wall, he can’t stop the hot, burning tears from falling. maybe it was how soft your lips felt against his caloused hands or how careful you were with him, how you knew that he likely wouldn’t react well to either choice and yet you made the perfect one.

Simon Riley who sometimes holds your hand, silently hoping you’d kiss his hand again. he likes it when you give each knuckle a peck. if you bent down on one knee, you’d look like a knight kissing the princess’ hand, and Johnny would say this whenever he saw the chance. Simon Riley who still isn’t ready to kiss you directly, but he’s slowly working on it. Simon Riley who will probably learn to like different types of kisses, but right now, he's smitten over you and your hand kisses that make him feel oh so loved.

next time he holds your hand, give him a kiss, will you?

[kayentokk]

If you can, I have a request for the mha boys reacting to their s/o rejecting their affection. Sorry to bother-

Never a bother, of course I can. Sorry it took me a while to reply. I hope this is what you had in mind.💕

Pairing; Bakugo Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijiro, and Amajiki Tamaki x GN! Reader(separate)

Contains;absolute fluff, attitudes, baby angst, misunderstandings, a lot of misunderstandings

wc; 2028

A/N; For some of my softie MHA boys lol. 

Rejecting the MHA Boys affection

☆ Bakugo Katsuki ☆

Now-

Ik I said for my softie MHA boys which is why he seems out of place

But you can’t tell me

That this fool 

Won’t have a whole ass attitude 

Cuz you “rejected” his love

I mean seriously

Who do you think you are?

To REJECT

Bakugo “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight” Katsukis hug

Huh?

🤨

Just who?

I mean sure he didn’t really hug you-

He just stood there waiting

And waiting

Expectantly

Because you always hug him when he comes back from an assignment 

I mean he just can’t believe you

It’s outrageous that you would even do that to him 

So he sulks 

And sulks

And sulks some more

I mean he doesn’t get why you couldn’t just hug him back

I mean yeah sure you were doing a assignment for your art class

And yeah sure you had charcoal and ink all over your hands 

But you coulda hugged him back 😒 

☆ “Kats-“

“No it’s fine.”

“Are you really gonna pout the whole time?”

“M’not poutin.”

“Oh yeah? So why’s your lip poked out? Why are you slouched more than normal? How come you’re quiet in an awkward way? Why’s your right eyebrow slightly more furrowed than the left is normally? Do you want me to go on?”

“No. I told you m’fine,” he says unfurrowing his eyebrow, sticking his lip back in, and sitting up.

Goodness, why do you have to know everything about him?

“Do you really want me to hug you with ink and charcoal all over? You want me to smother you while I smell and-“

“No I don’t. Told ya I wasn’t waiting for a hug.”

“Then what were you waiting for?”

“….”

Silence.

“Alright fine I was trying to be nice since I’m all messy, but since you wanna be stubborn you’re asking for it,” you replied getting up from your chair and pouncing on him.

“Hey get’offa me, said I ain’t want your hugs-“

“Oh shut up ya big baby.”

And he does, Bakugo Katsuki, shuts up. Even though the strong scent of the charcoals you use to draw is still on you, and the wet clay underneath your nails had made its way onto his black tee and the tips of his hair, he could care less. 

In fact, he could stay like this forever. ☆ 

 ☆ Midoriya Izuku ☆ 

okay he genuinely thinks he did something wrong

Like omg what’d I do?

The definition of a lost puppy 

Immediately goes to self doubt

He went to kiss you

And you dodged

What????

Confidence?

down the drain.

Whole day?

ruined.

Has like a cloud of thunder and rain above his head while he’s trying to figure it out

He mentally replays the day

Digging through his brain

He is wrecking it 

Until ur just like 

Dude 

It wasn’t like that/it was a accident 

Misunderstandings much?

You hafta reassure him so much after

☆ It had been such a long day for him. Mentally and physically draining. What more could he possible want in life than to hang out with you? Nothing, he thought. 

However when he came to greet you, like he normally does, and he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, like he normally does, you dodged. His soft, and oh so ready lips, were met with your cheek. 

…..

Your cheeks are great too! Don’t get him wrong, but…were you upset with him? Had he done something to offend you? 

He mentally sighed, scraping through his brain to find something, anything. Wracking the shelves of his mind. Well to be honest, he hadn’t really seen much of you today because you were both busy-

Was that why? Did you not want to kiss him because of that? He should’ve taken some time out of his day to text or call you, and maybe you wouldn’t be so upset, right? He had a lunch break for like 20 minutes, he could’ve checked in you then. Instead he chose to eat his lunch like the selfish, sick, bastar-

“Izu?”

“Huh?” He questioned, quickly snapping out of his thoughts. 

“Izu, you okay? You seemed a little lost there for a moment..”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No baby, why?”

“You- you dodged my kiss…”

“Were you like totally zoned out the whole time I was talking after that?”

“Kinda,” he said embarrassed.

“Silly, I said I was leaning in to kiss your cheek, sorry. I even pecked you back on the lips after, you don’t remember any of that?”

“N-no?! I’m sorry…”

You exhaled, “It seems you’re too exhausted today huh? Let’s go take a bath, yeah?”

He happily agreed, and was in utter bliss at you taking care of him the rest of the night. Gentle head pats were shared, sweet nothings whispered in the dead of night, and finally, peace hit when he fell asleep in your arms. ☆

☆ Kirishima Eijiro ☆

Lowkey breaks down into a very “manly” mess

Kirishima is a big affection guy

The best way he can fix things or lighten the mood is

Hugs

High fives

And that’s always worked for him

So when he can’t really do that

…he’s at a loss

Words? He can be good at words…kinda?

He’s just not very sure 

He’s more of a physical affection 

So one day when you’re hanging out

He can tell your mood is off

That’s one thing he’s gotten really good at is reading you

You’re upset

so ofc he tries to give you a hug 

But you decline not wanting that

Ofc this is about you and he’s still gonna try his best

It just made him sad to think that that’s the only way he knew how to help you

…yet it doesn’t always work

☆ Honestly, you were just upset today. Things weren’t going the way that they were supposed to. Granted, they were small things but they still bothered you. Eventually building up to your soured mood. 

You’d tried talking to “friends” about it, but we’re just given responses like, “Do you know how minor that is compared to my day?” Or, “Don’t focus on the negative,” and the most common, “Why are you being so selfish?” 

After those you just gave up and tried to get through your day. Trying to get back in the excited mood because you were supposed to hang out with Kirishima today. So everything would be fine shortly, or at least that’s what you thought.

He showed up at your apartment to just watch movies, and you figured it would be okay. However, as the movie went on you found yourself not able to pay attention. Kirishima noticed this as well and immediately asked what was wrong. When you brushed it off with a “nothing,” he knew it wasn’t nothing. 

Normally cuddles always brought you out of your saddened state, at least a little. So he wraps his arms around you in a warm hug and tries to snuggle close. This simple but oh so caring act of affection was not able to bring you out of your mood, in fact it almost worsened. You nudged him off with the excuse that it was “too hot.”

Oh, he thought. 

You were really upset, and there was nothing he could do. The only thing he could do, the only thing he knew he excelled at in life, couldn’t help. So why was he even here? It made him feel useless, and stupid. 

Quickly realizing that his mood had changed, you started to feel bad. Gosh why couldn’t you just stop being so selfish? 

“Sorry,” he quickly stated before you could.

“What are you sorry for? I-I should be the one who’s sorry..”

“No I,” he sighed deeply, “I don’t know how to comfort you, and there’s nothing I can do to help so I’m basically use-“

You cut him off with a peck on his forehead.

“Wh-what are you-“

“Just you being here is helpful to me Eiji. I was just having a rough day today, okay? It’s not your fault.”

“But still I should be able to comfort you…”

“Well, I could seriously use someone to vent to,” his eyes lit up at that, “as long as you don’t interrupt me to say how much harder your day was, or tell me how negative and selfish I’m being.”

His eyebrows crinkled downward and his whole face shifted into a frown, “why would I do that?”

“Long story babe.”

“Well good thing I’m here to listen.”

Now he has a new way he can comfort you, and he’s an expert at listening as well. ☆

☆ Amajiki Tamaki ☆

Okay legit the definition of an awkward misunderstanding 

Even though his natural personality is shy and timid or quiet

He’s more comfortable around you 

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get stuck sometimes

Like he’s gonna do something 

And then bam

Nvm 😅 🫠

He’s so disappointed with himself

He built it up and was so ready

So he just accepts it

This time though you don’t beat him to it

In fact you don’t do it at all

It causes him to think something is wrong

But you had noticed his frustration lately with something

After noticing it was his courage you decided you’d let him greet you today

So he builds himself up

Even stands in front of you 

While you wait patiently 

And then

He just gives a stammered out never mind and a defeated sigh

Because what if you don’t even want to hug or kiss him anyway?

☆ Tamaki comes home everyday, to your shared apartment, and everyday you’re the first person he sees. He always finds you where ever you are, normally in your study, and you hug and kiss him. Then there in the room you guys talk about your days and unwind, mostly him listening to you. 

Recently though, you had noticed him being more frustrated? You weren’t sure what if was but it was always after you hugged and kissed him, you could tell because his brow would slightly furrow and his lips would poke out in a pout. You weren’t sure why though, did your breath stink? No. Were you hugging him too tight? No Tamaki loves your hugs. So what could it be?

You called up the person who knows him second best, his closest friend, a friend of yours as well since you’ve started dating Tamaki. Mirio. You figured Tamaki might have said something to him even if it was just a mumbling her overheard, and you figured correctly. 

Mirio told you he had only heard Tamaki mumbling about courage and greetings recently, which was enough for you to put two and two together. You thanked him for his helpful information and waited on Tamaki to arrive home. It was his early shift today so at about 7 he’d be home.

You waited this time, in the living room. This time when he came in you simply gave him a, “hey ‘tama” and he greeted you back coming to sit on the couch with you. For a moment he stared, waiting, almost expectantly. 

He was building himself up, and you were giving him time. It wasn’t awkward silence, just expecting, patient silence. After a couple minutes you were about to speak when he kissed you. 

I did it! Was all he could think of, but he was a bit harsh and one of his teeth bit your lip causing you to break the kiss. 

Oh no, what if I was right? She didn’t want to kiss me at all! I should’ve just gave up-

“Tamaki? Are you okay?”

“I-I’m…I’m sorry,” he said in a hushed tone.

“It’s okay, accidents happen.”

“A-accident?” He said confused.

“Yes, I’m assuming you didn’t bite me on purpose,” you said giggling.

Then it clicked in his brain, he was so excited he had finally done it, he accidentally hurt you in the process. It made him sad, a sullen look now appeared over his features. 

“I’m sorry. I- I just really wanted t-to-“

“I know Tama, and it’s okay,” you reassured him, “you can just keep trying.”

Smiling he asked hopefully, “really?”

“Of course.” ☆

Hope this fulfilled your request!  @/cafekitsune for the divider

[queenjang21]

•high school hyun soo x yandere reader

•warnings: yandere, gore/blood, bully, manipulation, dead

Cha hyun soo was your only friend, and you were his, even when he started to get bullied, even if he told you to stay away from him, you stayed by his side, resulting in you becoming a target, but you didn’t care, you were strong enough and you fought back.

you only stopped fighting back when they threatened to make hyunsoo’s worse, since then you try to take more hits than him, he didn’t deserve that you were only ever nice to him, even before the bullies, its why he became your friend, he heard there was a girl who was mean to everybody in the school, she never talked and would yell at you for even looking at her, he thought he could be her friend, and he was right.

you looked up from your desk and were ready to glare at the person who disturbed your nap, but was taken back by the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on shortly after that, you became friends, hyunsoo knew you mean to anyone that wasn’t him, but he never knew it because you liked him.

hyunsoo grew to love you in the time he spent with you, and it became more every time you’d stand up for him against dohun, it was obvious that hyunsoo had gotten depressed after everything, even noticing scars you knew weren’t inflicted by his classmates.

you got angry, and wanted to shout at and beat dohun senseless after making such a wonderful, cheerful boy do such things to himself, but you knew it’d only make his situation worse, so you held back, it was getting worse day by day, and you didn’t know how much longer you could handle this, after a harsh day, when he leaned into your touch, you confessed, telling him how much he pained you tosl see him in pain, how much you wish you could teach thosegl guys a lesson, and how much you loved him and he returned your feelings! you’ve never been happier, and hyunsoo too.

it was summer break, and you noticed hyunsoo had been smiling more, how his scars faded away, his genuine smiles that were reversed for you, hyunsoo had to leave their date early, something happened to his dad and he needed to be there, it was already late at night, so you followed him, it wasn’t the first time you followed him, you had to made sure he was safe and you were glad you did, you noticed how a girl from your school, jihyung was it? found herself next to hyunsoo, and she started to talk with him.

hyunsoo was getting uncomfortable, but the girl attached herself to his side, completely ignoring his protests, your blood boiled, how could she do that to someone?! someone that belonged to you?! surely she knew about the two of you? everyone knew that the two losers were dating and you wanted to hurt her, in a worse way that she was hurting what was yours.

you saw the woman grab his face and leaned towards, him, her hand on places that it shouldn’t be, when you jumped out of your hiding spot, you grabbed the pocket knife you always kept with you just incase, and stabbed it into her head, you pulled it out and did it again, but in a different spot, then again, and again, and again-

she fell to the floor, unresponsive and you smiled, she was gone, but now hyunsoo was looking at you, he looked scared, even more than he did when he first got bullied

“y/n?” his tone was careful, but undoubtedly scared “what did you do?!” when you walked closer you tried to explain yourself, but he backed away “she was a human being…no one deserves something like that!”

“she hurt you! anyone who hurts you should be dead, and what she did to you? i should’ve made it hurt more” hyunsoo kept backing away, until he finally got the courage to run, you sighed and ran after him, you didn’t want to hurt him, but one time wouldn’t be so bad…you grabbed a small piece of wood laying on the ground, and when you caught up with him, you hit him, hard enough to make him pass out.

you tied him up and put him in your car, driving home and putting him in your room, but you weren’t done for the day, you tracked down dohun’s house, he was asleep when you entered the room, you took a knife larger than your previous, and slammed it directly into his heart, you would’ve preferred something that hurt more, but this had to do, then you drove to hyunsoo’s house, you only needed his mother and sister, his dad was already taken care of, poor thing got ran over by a truck driver on his way to work, you were already planning to do this, but it was just a bit early.

once you were finished with them you headed home, just in time for hyunsoo to wake up, he winced at the pain in his head, when he looked up, remembering what happened as he locked eyes with you, he realized he was tied up and started struggling, “i’m sorry about the restraints, are they hurting you? i can take them off only if you don’t try to run away again” you sat down next to him, he was breathing heavily, struggling to free himself from the tight grip of the ropes.

it took him a few minutes to stop, he was exhausted and started to cry, you wrapped your arms around him to try and comfort him, for a moment he seemed to forget the situation, and what you had done, he leaned in to kiss you, seeking comfort that only you could give, but he pulled away, leaning away from you, “someone will look for me…they’ll find me…” you sighed and moved away “anyone who could rescue you is already dead, give up, your parents, your sister, even dohun is dead, no one will look for you, cause no one else cares about you the way i do, they’ll never give you the love that i do” hyunsoo felt his heart drop when you mentioned his family, it was true that they didn’t care for him anymore, overhearing his sister tell her friends how much of a freak he was, and “no, i don’t have a brother!” even his parents not giving him as much attention.

the only one who did seem to care…was you but you hurt people, you killed his family, and you killed that girl, you didn’t even break a sweat, how could he love someone like that? “you’re right” he lied “i’m sorry i said that, i…love you” but you weren’t stupid, you knew everything about hyunsoo, right down to his lies, does he seriously think he can get away with this? you won’t hurt him, you’ll only teach him a lesson, there is a part of him that still loves you, and you’ll just have to bring it out, you left alone in a separate room for days, only bringing him food and drinks, and sometimes letting him have a shower, he tried to be cute to you, but you knew he was only toying with you.

you would tape his mouth shut and lock the door while bringing another boy over, you felt sick as you flirted with them, they didn’t deserve your attention, but hyunsoo was a brat, and needed to get himself together and it was working, hyunsoo could hear every flirty remark you made towards them, and it made his heart ache, he thought he shouldn’t love someone like you, but you were his only happiness for months, how could he let someone like that go so easily? he tried to pretend it didn’t hurt, like it didn’t feel like his heart was torn to pieces everytime you wouldn’t even look at him and when you went inside weeks later to bring him water he broke, tears in his eyes as you didn’t even speak this time, he looked at you and begged, for the first time, to look at him, to give him attention, to love him again, he loves you, and now you’re the only one he has left, he’ll do anything for your attention, you would be lying if you said you weren’t feeling heartbroken too, you wrapped your arms around, vowing to never make him lonely again, never to let him feel that way when you’re around.

because he made you whole, he made you feel things you never thought you could, so you will latch onto him forever, if it meant feeling like that for your entire life.

HYUN SOO WAS YOURS AND YOU WERE HIS.

Written by : 0X1-L0VES0NG (wattpad)