#but sometimes I don’t think she understood sometimes how much she meant to me as a mother figure and a friend I could trust with anything

[chimielie]

what it is

summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)

word count: 1.3k

cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses

a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting

“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.

“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.

You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.

Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).

Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.

You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.

Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”

You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.

Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.

You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.

“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”

You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.

“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”

The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—

You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.

Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.

“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.

“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.

You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”

You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?

“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.

“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”

“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—

“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”

Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.

“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.

“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”

Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.

#WAS this inspired by the time i saw my bf in glasses and literally went to my friend’s dorm and screamed for sixteen seconds (he timed it) #well i’m not telling. that’s a secret. #oikawa: i like you #reader (visions of oikawa in that godawful plaid outfit swimming thru their head): i think even that’s hot now. i have to get a lobotomy #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tōru x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #oikawa x reader fluff #hq!! fluff #the word fluff doesnt look real anymore

[mizuseyebrows]

what happens when I bite a bit harder… —mizu x f!reader

image credits to bad thinking diary by park do-han ^^

warnings: not proofread, nsfw?, neck bites, intense kisses, body touch, possessive attitudes.

includes: horny mfs. bratty afab!/fem! reader. angryish, jealous mizu, I think both of them are dom and/or sub in their own way. words count: 4.3k (I'm incapable of writing something short fck)

a/n: this may be a mizu mischaracterization but I was a horny writer craving her (I'm probably ovulating).

“Come here,” Mizu suddenly rose and grabbed your hand, pulling you from your spot cautiously trying to go unnoticed as you walked somewhere else.

You had been flirting with a man at the table across from you, giggling flirtatiously and distractedly lost in the alcohol in your body.

Mizu practically growled in bewilderment and annoyance at the sight of your sugary smile and the sparkle in your eyes. It was always the same when you stopped at a tea house to rest or at a eatery. You always had to flirt with every man who was present, sometimes you even let some women come up to you and touch you. You were unbearable when you weren’t traveling.

Although, Mizu felt that her discomfort came from her jealousy… Were you really unbearable or was it just jealousy? Jealousy of seeing you so comfortable and happy to have the attention of others.

Mizu forcefully pressed you against the wall, looking from under her new pair of tinted glasses with a heavy gaze that slowly studied your face from your eyes to your glossy lips. How did you always have moist and shiny lips?

She snorted and rolled her eyes in displeasure. “Quit acting like a seductress.”

“Like a seductress? When did I do that?” You pretended you didn’t know what she meant, pressing your back closer to the wall.

“Whenever someone comes near you,” she huffed, her voice a bit hoarse. “By allowing men to approach you, flirt with you, ogle at you. There’s even a specific way you tilt your head. Then, those lips of yours…” Mizu brought her fingers to your lips, caressing your lower one. “I bet you practiced pouting in front of the mirror every morning. You are not a doll who must be viewed and admired.”

You pouted, looking into her eyes, trying to look adorable. “Are my pouts ugly…? Am I not pretty enough to be a doll?” You kept teasing.

“You know, that’s exactly what bothers me…” her dark eyes narrowed, the faint scent of sencha tea leaves filling her breath. “You’re naturally beautiful, and you act cute knowing that. Every man wants you… and I bet you love the attention they give you.”

“I love having their attention, yes.” You nodded confidently and brought your hand towards Mizu’s blue haori. You could tell she was fighting over something in her mind. “And I love even more that you consider me beautiful…”

The moment you touched her haori, her eyes darkened, her pupils pinning like a snake. She grabbed your wrist in a tight hold, squeezing hard enough to make your fingers go numb. The veins on her neck, arms, and forehead were bulging in rage.

“I despise your vanity,” she hissed, her teeth gritted in a snarl. “Don’t act coy with me. You know that men find you attractive and desirable because of your beauty… You deliberately flaunt it!”

“Do you despise my vanity?” You continued to bother her. “You’re hurting me, Mizu… I thought we were starting to get along”

“Is that so? Do you think your playfulness is amusing? Your cute expressions and words?” She smirked, laughing with a bit of ‘contempt’. “I’m only putting up with you because we have a common goal. Once you’re done being an immature nuisance… I’m going to leave you, and I don’t want to cross paths with you ever again. Understood?”

“You wouldn’t do that. You love me too much to abandon me.” You licked your lips, playfully laughing.

“I don’t love you, you nitwit.” She barked, scowling. “You don’t know what it means to love someone. I don’t think it’s even possible for you to care about anything or anyone but yourself.”

“Ouch, you better leave me here if you’re going to talk to me like that now.” You pouted sadly and looked away. You were still teasing her because you sensed there was something she was hiding with her cold demeanor.

She tightened her grip on your wrist.

“What are you… doing?” her gaze traveled all over your face. “Don’t be cute now. I know you’re only acting like this to avoid being reprimanded,” she said, pulling you towards her, trying to be as scary as possible. “Are you seriously using your sad, sulky expression in hopes that I’ll feel bad and take that back?”

“Reprimanded? Why would you reprimand me? What did I do wrong?” You saw her again, still feigning innocence.

“You’re trying to toy with me, making a mockery of my words, and that is the last straw!” her grasp on your wrist tightened even more. “How can you look me in the eye and lie so easily…” she huffed in frustration. “I really should leave you here. You’re a pain in the neck. I’d rather be alone than deal with your childish stunts…”

“Do it then” You challenged her. “If you leave me here now, those men will have the opportunity to do whatever they want with me.”

“And why should I care?” she narrowed her eyes and glared down at you with a piercing glare. “You’re the one who attracts all this unwanted attention to yourself, and now you’re telling me that I should care about you being taken advantage of by those lustful men?"

“Oh, I thought your claim about me flaunting my beauty and charms was because you cared about me.” You stroked Mizu’s hand that was holding your wrist. “I see I was wrong…”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she growled, her nostrils flaring. “You know very well what I’m talking about. You deliberately flirt with every man you come into contact with. You crave validation, being desired by every man.”

“Or maybe I do it because the person I want doesn’t pay attention to me.” You responded insightfully, returning your gaze to the room where you were before. “I know how to take care of myself, so I don’t think those men will abuse me.”

“Don’t try to flatter yourself, you immature little brat.” Her voice was hoarse and strained. “You’re too childish to truly understand the dangers around you. How can you be so arrogant as to think you can take care of yourself on your own? You don’t know what those men are capable of. They’ll use their brute strength to strip you down in front of me. To make you helpless…”

“You taught me to defend myself.” You looked into her eyes again, with a sly smile. “Do you doubt your abilities as an instructor?”

“I’ve taught you many things,” she nodded, a faint hint of pride seeping out of her cold demeanor. “But it doesn’t change the fact that those men will find ways to overpower you once they are set on using you. Even if you tried to fight them off, they are not bound by the same laws that govern us. There are more of them than of you, and they are stronger. They will take you away from me, and I will be left with nothing but pure, unadulterated anguish.”

You stared at her as you heard what she said. That confession made your eyes shine with wonder and your cheeks warm gently.

“So you do care about me.” You laughed affectionately, caressing her hand again.

Mizu realized her mistake and froze. She couldn’t deny it – it was obvious even in the expression on her face, despite how much she was trying to mask it with cold composure.

“Don’t get used to this, you little idiot. I only care about you because we’re working together, and you’re my partner. I’m not going to be your babysitter forever.”

“Your partner? In what sense?” You tilted your head to the side, blinking profusely and slyly smiling.

She smirked. You couldn’t really call it a sweet and playful smile. She stared at you with cold eyes and said nothing, her hands tightly grabbing your wrists, still pinning you to the wall. She was enjoying this, watching your eyes light up, hearing your voice get excited.

“We’re partners in the pursuit of our personal targets,” she said, her voice flat and stoic. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Are you sure we can only be that?” You whispered, blushing at the way she was holding you.

She was taken aback by your question. “Why are you asking me such a thing…” her voice was more than strained, it was rough and cracking. “You know you’re getting on my nerves right now, right?” she asked, leaning her forehead against yours.

“Stop pretending that you are indifferent to me and tell me what you really feel…” You closed your eyes as you felt Mizu’s forehead against yours.

“What’s to tell?” she whispered, leaning closer. “Why do you want to know?” her grip tightened, it felt like any second she would pull you in, kiss you.

“You give me a lot of mixed signals… I can assume some things but you’re so hard to read…” You continued to whisper, clenching your fists from the way she was clutching your wrists. “And I’m too good a reader not to understand you…”

“Mixed signals…” her breath was shallow. She kept her face just a few inches away from yours, her eyelashes tickling your forehead. “Then tell me what it is that you’re reading?” she asked, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“I think your claims go beyond just the possibility of me being hurt by those men.” You sighed, opening your eyes to get lost in her blue ones. “It’s just that?”

“Mhm.” She spoke softly, almost with a shiver. The feeling of having her lips and forehead so close to yours was making her feel… “Yes, of course, that is just it. I know exactly what those men intend to do. That’s all.” She repeated, trying to mask the longing in her voice.

“That’s pretty disappointing…” You laughed softly, your breath hitting Mizu’s lips. “Now you’re the one lying.”

Her eyes narrowed, her grip tight on your wrists. She closed the distance between us, the sensation on her breath sending shivers down your spine. She slowly moved close to your lips.

“Oh, I was lying, was I?” she whispered, her lips just an inch away from yours.

“Tell me the truth. You won’t stop being the scary assassin you want everyone to see if you speak honestly.” You sighed, focusing on her lips.

“You really want to hear my honest words, huh?” She smirked, her breath tickling your lips. “Then listen up, idiot,” she whispered, her voice becoming raspy. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be alone again. But more than that…” she moved even closer, her lips brushing against yours.

“More than that…?” You stood still, completely at Mizu’s mercy. She could do whatever she wanted with you at that moment. Literally anything. You wouldn’t refuse.

She didn’t say anything. All you could hear was her shallow and rapid breathing, the sound of her heartbeats hammering against her ribs. She was taking in your scent, the smell of your skin filling her nose, arousing every feeling inside her body.

Then she pressed her lips against yours, lingering, lingering, her tongue gently pushing past your lips, her hand sliding down the back of your neck.

You moaned softly against her lips, after so much tension this felt like heaven. You had even almost slid down the wall, like you were melting.

She kept you up, her body pressed tightly against yours. The feeling of your tongue against hers sent chills up her spine. Her hands traveled from your wrists to your shoulders, then down to the small of your back, squeezing you closely. Your bodies were molded into one, as if two pieces of a puzzle were finally coming together.

“You’re going to understand something, those men don’t want to chat with you because they appreciate how interesting you are. It’s not for nothing that they always buy you drinks. They think that they have a chance with you.”

She broke away from the kiss abruptly and tightened her grip on your arms, under your shoulders, almost shaking you. You just looked at her in silence, agitated by that intense kiss.

“But they don’t.” She whispered and moved closer to your face, furrowed with seriousness. Still maintaining a somewhat cold and intimidating attitude.  “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours?” You gulped and raised an eyebrow playfully. “And since when I’m yours?” You leaned your head against the wall, a little dizzy from the kiss.

As quick as the lightning that illuminates the sky before a storm, Mizu brought her lips to meet yours again.

Her lips were warm and passionate, her tongue softly and insistently playing on yours, her grip tightening around you. Her embrace engulfed you like a powerful wave and carried you away, leaving no air in your lungs, no thoughts in your mind, no other feelings but overwhelming desire and arousal.

She moaned softly, her entire body shivering with the intensity of the kiss. The sensation of your mouth against hers was intoxicating, sending an intense wave of warmth through her entire body. She pushed her body against yours even more firmly, her head tilted sideways to give you a better angle, and she groaned with pleasure, her fingers digging into your back.

You hugged her neck with need, feeling yourself melt under her kiss. Your fingers tangled in her hair as you sighed softly against her lips. If perfection were a kiss… this would be it.

As your bodies pressed tighter to one another, your mouths kept moving in the dance of your tongues, breathing heavily, hearts beating fast. The kiss slowly morphed into something more. It went from passionate to intimate, warm to arousing. It wasn’t just about kissing. It was something deeper – it was true desire.

You cupped her face and jumped up to hug her hips with your legs, panting even more steadily. Your hands gripped her haori, trying to release the pleasure you were feeling.

Her hands glided up and down your body, lingering along your chest, back, and sides, your ass… feeling the heat rising and your breathing getting deeper with each touch. You both were wrapped within the cocoon of intense desire for one another, not thinking about what may happen next.

You separated yourself from her lips for a few seconds, trying to recover some air with accelerated breaths. “Since when do you like to give shows like this in public?” You whispered against her lips, loving seeing them so swollen from your kisses.

“Shut up,” she gasped, her heavy panting breathing not so different from yours. “It’s not like I usually do this sort of thing, okay?”

She placed her forehead against yours as your bodies still embraced one another, the intensity still remaining in the air. You could feel her heartbeat, her breath.

Her voice was barely a whisper. ”And we’re not exactly in public.”

“No, we are in the hallway of a tea house.” You joked sarcastically, closing your eyes and caressing Mizu’s arms.

The corners of her mouth pulled up in a playful scowl. She placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not caring that her lips were still swollen, and yours too.

“That’s not what I meant, dummy,” she grumbled softly, her voice still laced with breathlessness. “There are no people around. We’re alone, and… and, that’s not too problematic for me. But, if we do find ourselves in real public…”

A grin widened across her face.

“What would the people say, I wonder. What would the men who watch and ogle you so often think when they see me kiss you? What would they envy and desire?”

“Mm, are you jealous, grumpy kitten?” You smiled pleased to see her like this and caressed her swollen lips with your fingers.

“I am not a grumpy kitten,” she muttered quietly, her cheeks feeling flushed and hot as your fingers traced around her lips.

It was a strange feeling, as if she wanted to be mad at you but the heat of the moment made her mind blank and her thoughts nothing but a bundle of desire, need, and lust.

“Stop smiling at me like that,” she grumbled slightly, her fingers tightening around the fabric of your kimono.

“Like what…?” You whispered, in a velvety tone, and caressed her neck using your nails to tickle her.

“Stop caressing me” she barked softly, her voice almost as intoxicating as her scent. “You’re making me crave you.”

You hadn’t noticed how her words had a seductive undertone to them.

“Stop… teasing me,” she growled playfully. “Your kisses — every one of them is addictive.” Her fingers slid from your waist to your throat, lingering at the exact spot where your pulse throbbed the hardest.

You let out a quiet moan when you felt her fingers on your skin. “You were the one who kissed me, silly.” You laughed softly and removed your hands from her neck.

“Are you feeling… sensitive?” the grin widened across her face. “Your neck sure as hell looks vulnerable right now.”

Her thumb rubbed over the spot on your neck. She could feel your heavy breathing, could sense the heat and the arousing energy radiating from your body.

She leaned forward and bit your neck, her hot breath making the area tickle slightly and then sent a surge of ecstasy through your body.

Another soft moan came out of you, as you were trying to hold on to something, without touching Mizu to bother her. “Yes it is…sensitive…” You gasped, feeling your heart race.

“Oh, is it so?” she chuckled, her voice tinged with a teasing and enticing tone, her eyes shining in the dimness of the hallway.

She gave a few more gentle bites on your neck, each one a little bit deeper and more intense than the last.

“And what happens when I bite a bit harder…?”

You moaned a little louder, clenching your fists. “Fuck…” You whispered, trying not to draw the attention of the other customers. “You’re going to leave marks on me.”

“Who cares? What are they gonna think,” she said breathlessly, her voice lowering to a near whisper, her lips barely inches away from your neck, her breath tickling you gently.

“That’s what you want, right? Let them see that they won’t be able to mark me like this, right?” You were desperate to touch her again. You panted rapidly, beginning to feel a tickling sensation between your legs.

“Let them see that you’re mine, yes,” she murmured, her breath now hot and quick as she leaned even closer to you.

She bit your neck again, but harder than the last time, and she squeezed your legs more tightly around her waist as she leaned forward and pressed her body against yours. Mizu gave you a little tug towards her, her breath warm and steamy, her tongue quickly darting out to lick the exact spot she had just bitten.

“Do you think those men imagine how soft my skin will be? How pronounced are my curves under my kimono?” You tried to provoke her to behave more possessively with you, you were loving how she clung you to her.

“I bet they do… the same way that I do. The same way that I can’t take my eyes off you. The way that I imagine how you look naked, how you moan when I make you feel good… They surely imagine all of that… and much more. They probably can’t wait to see your soft skin, how your curves would feel like, and most of all…”

Mizu grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you down towards her, her lips now meeting yours for a deep kiss.

You moaned in surprise and kissed her back, clutching your hands to your kimono. You wanted to touch her, hug her, caress her, everything… But you wanted to hear her ask for it first. Two could play this game.

A strong tickle passed through your body as you melted from Mizu’s kiss and the increasing wet sensation in your crotch made you begin to sweat and burn all over. Her tongue was simply mesmerizing.

The kiss went deeper and deeper, the heat and intensity growing with each second. She could feel your moans and she felt how you wanted to reach for her as well.

She was slowly getting addicted to the way you reacted to the kiss. The sound of your voice… the way that your breaths quickened and your body trembled… all of it sent a surge of desire through her.

Still holding you by the back of your head, she made you tilt your head back and licked your neck again, her breath caressing and warming your skin.

“Gods… I don’t know if I should be worry about this possessive side of you or if it pleases me…” You whispered, closing your eyes tightly pretending you didn’t know the answer.

“You’re mine,” she growled in reply, her voice laced with both desire and jealousy. You had been playing this game with so many other men and they had fallen for your charm, but none of them could mark you as theirs.

And here she was, marking you with kisses, claiming you and making you feel more intense and arousing things than you ever had felt.

“But are you mine?” You asked cautiously, grateful that she was holding you; otherwise you would fall because of the way your legs were shaking. “Can I call you mine too?”

Her fingers tightened around the sides of your neck slightly at your response, her hot, heavy breath wavering through the air between your bodies. Was she really possessive of you? Of the feelings between them?

“Yes,” she finally murmured softly, her voice laced with the same emotions that you felt. “Mine,” she repeated, and you could feel a slight bite where her teeth pressed against the skin below your neck. "Say it."

“What do you want me to say?” You gasped loudly, a little disoriented by the haze of pleasure. You wasn’t really sure what you were talking about now.

She bit your neck again and this time you felt a sharp sting of pain. She drew her fingers up to your jaw and forced you to look at her.

“Say it,” she growled. “Say that I am yours.”

You stared into her eyes and swallowed heavily, feeling like your heart would beat out of your chest. “You’re mine…” The way those words caressed your tongue made you gasp in pleasure.

The sting in your neck was temporarily forgotten with the intensity of your feelings. It was true — you could her claim on you. The idea didn’t exactly feel bad, in fact, it felt good.

“Say that you are mine too,” she murmured breathlessly as she brought her lips back to your neck and gave you several soft kisses in rapid succession.

“I’m yours…” You threw your head back again, laughing almost moaning at the feel of her soft kisses.

“Good,” she muttered, her voice breathless and trembling. Your words were music to her ears and your reaction were like poem to her eyes. Your laughter, your moans, every little thing just added to the pleasure of the kiss.

She was feeling the same way as you were. Her breath had quickened, and her lips had curled into a soft smile after hearing you utter those words.

She pressed her body more tightly against yours, letting out a small gasp and tightening her grip slightly around your waist. She could feel that the both of you had reached the breaking point and that whatever happens next will be unstoppable.

“Aren’t you tired of carrying me all this time?” You asked softly. Your hands were tingling wanting to touch her.

“Not tired at all,” she murmured softly, her grip around your neck tightening once more and her breath wavering in the air as she stared into you with her deep blue eyes. “But perhaps…” she smirked, her voice becoming breathier as she continued. “I do want those beautiful hands of yours to do something to me.”

“My beautiful hands?” You stared into her eyes, feeling yourself sinking into them.

She nodded gently and let out a small moan as she noticed the way her breathing began to quicken even more. Your words were making her head spin.

“Yes, those hands,” she replied softly. “I want them to caress my skin. I want them to feel my scars, to explore every inch of my body. I want them to grasp every part of me and hold me tightly.”

You began to breathe rapidly while you squeezed your hands with desire. What you wanted most was to feel it. Unconsciously your hip rubbed against her abdomen.

“I want you to use them on me..”

You stirred in anticipation, still hugging her hips with your legs, and brought your hands to her cheeks. “Let’s get out of here, let’s go to a room so you can make me yours and I can make you mine. Come on, come on.” You begged her, moaning softly.

“Oh, how impatient you are,” she chuckled softly, her voice low and seducing. She could feel the tingling sensation in her body, the heat slowly spreading all over her skin like a thick coat. “Let’s go then,” she muttered, her voice hoarse and breathless.

You got off her hips, almost falling to the ground because of your shaking and unstable legs. You cupped her face and leaned in for a deep kiss, standing on tiptoe.

She felt your lips on hers, pressing firmly with a little more force than she had been expecting. The sudden move made her body tremble, every inch on her skin was feeling sensitive.

She opened her lips and allowed your tongue to enter her mouth. The hot, warm feeling in her throat made her shudder and tremble, and the intense reaction made her want you even more.

Did it matter what would happen after that day? Would you act as if nothing had happened? The answers to those questions interested you much less than the pain of each bite mark on your neck.

None of that mattered now.

I don't know what I did, sorry ❤️ I'm other person when I'm craving that blue eyed woman

#blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu x fem!reader

[lovebugism]

Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie spaghetti drabble #st drabbles #bug's blurb sleepover

[lidiasloca]

delicately (cassian x reader)

summary: when cassian meets reader, he doesn't think past her privileged life. but what if there is more behind her appearance? what if, who she really is, is meant to meet with him on a cold night at the court of nightmares for a reason?

warnings: mentions of abuse.

(angst)

part one

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

You enter the revel. Music vivid and people joyous. Not exactly how you are feeling.

Your dress is thigh enough that you have trouble breathing, and your heels are making your only task to be not trip over in front of everyone. Besides, of course, your life-long task; don’t embarrass your father, and don’t put shame on your good name’.

“Walk straighter,” your father tells you, walking next to you. You obey, of course, and say nothing. Like always. “Keir is expecting me to agree to some plans of his. While I am with him, you will stay in our table. Don’t go anywhere else, and talk to only those worth our time. Understood?”

You nod. 

…

You suppose a revel could be considered fun, depending on who you asked. The ones dancing, for instance, seem to know how a good time looks like. Feels like. 

But as you are siting silently on your chair, with no one else around the table, you know you aren’t one of those people. You are just people watching; at least that’s how you have always felt. 

You were watching as your father shouted at your mother. You were watching as he insulted you. You were watching as he decided who you’d eventually marry. You were watching as he gave you orders on how to not do anything he wouldn’t do. 

You always just watched. 

A loud laugh makes you snap back to the present. A very loud laugh, one that feels genuine. You turn your head to find the General of the Night Court. ‘A bastard-born’, your father had told you. ‘We want nothing to do with him,’ he had ordered. 

But he had said nothing about staring. And he is… well, worth staring. 

The General is still laughing at what a beautiful blond girl is saying. You recognize her to be Morrigan, Keir’s daughter. She is wearing a beautiful red dress that… shows. You hate thinking like that, judging her -or any female- for the size of their cleavage, but your father had told you… No. 

You weren’t your father. 

Sick of this whole place and your own mind, you stand up and start walking to the closest terrace. Remembering his orders, you can only pray your father will take longer with Keir wherever they are. 

After a minute of seeking and finding the crystal door, you are finally greeted with the cold chill of the night. And the terrace is deserted, thankfully. 

You go to the railing and rest your hands atop the steel, sighing. You feel more calmed now; you don’t mind the loud music, or the laughter, or the drunken shouting, but… but sometimes it feels a bit too much when you’re not part of any of it. 

“Are you not cold?”

You jump at the voice, which is deep enough that it comes across as scary, at least if you’re backwards to it. You turn to it and find in front of you the General of the Night Court’s armies. 

‘A bastard-born nobody. We want nothing to do with him’.

No. “Who are you?” you ask.

The male grins. “You don’t know who I am?” At the obvious cockiness in his words, you smirk shyly, moving your gaze to the floor. 

“I - I do.” You looked up again, meeting his hazel eyes. “But I don’t know your name,” you replied, mustering your tone to be flat, neutral, despite not feeling like that at all. 

“Ah.” And then silence. 

“Are you not going to tell me your name?”

“I asked you a question first,” he smiles, finding your confusion amusing. When you keep silent, he says. “I asked if you were cold, y/n?”

Oh. “How do you know my name?”

He chuckled, the sound so beautiful, so real. “Are you going to keep asking me questions before answering mine?” he jokes, shaking his head. “Didn’t your oh so rich and powerful father taught you manners?” 

Taught you manners? Your father? 

It’s a joke, you know it, but still… You turn to the railing again, needing suddenly something to hold you in place. He probably thinks you’re stupid, but you need to calm down, steady yourself from the memories that are appearing violently and uninvited into your mind.

“No. I’m sorry,” he tells you nervously, walking to your side. “I - sorry. I was joking. I didn’t mean it as an insult. At all.”

“I know,” you make yourself say, because you don’t want him to feel guilty, misinterpreting the situation. You definitely wouldn’t care if he talked badly about your father. You would most definitely join him. 

“Oh, then what is it?” 

You close your eyes against the now too cold air caressing your face. Goosebumps raise on your arms. You are cold. 

“I am cold,” you finally answer his previous question, and it’s obvious for the two of you that you’re ignoring his new question.

But he lets it go. “And I am Cassian.” You move your eyes to stare at him, at how the moonlight makes the planes of his face look even more beautiful than the light of the revel did. “And I know your name because you’re quite a persona around here. Your - your father is- well, you must know who he is,” he smiles.

Oh, you indeed know who he is. You and your mother know exactly who he is. 

Cassian must have seen the sadness in your eyes at the mention of him because he dares moving his hand to grab your wrist delicately. You look down to where his hand is now caressing yours, then look up when he whispers, “What is it with your father?”

“Nothing.”

You watch him watch you, his eyes assessing you. You can’t bare the intimacy of it all, the way he is reading you. 

So you pretend. “You are a general, right, Cassian?” you ask him, smiling faintly.

He isn’t fooled, you know that, but at least, he plays along and returns your smile, this one less genuine. “A general?” he echoes. “Well, I’m the general and commander of the Night Court's armies, more precisely.”

You let out a laugh. Gods, he is a bit arrogant. You are to tell him so, but when you look up, your breath gets caught at the way his eyes are regarding you, as if in awe. At you?

“Are you blushing?” he teases. A bit, had you said? No, he is arrogant. 

“I’m not.”

He raises one eyebrow, questioning. You turn your head to the night sky, denying him the sight of your reddened cheeks.

He chuckles, his hand moving from where he was holding your wrist up to your elbow. The caress he does across your arm makes you thank the cold for excusing the goosebumps.

“Then let me see, huh?” He pulls your arm carefully, lifting his other hand to place it on your chin. You chuckle as you resist from turning your face to him. 

He laughs, taking a step to you to have the upper hand; now towering over you, Cassian turns your face as easy as breathing.

He hums with exaggerated satisfaction, then says, “liar.”

You don’t reply. Not when you’re so busy looking into his eyes, now very close to yours. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, touching the red there. “Is the cold the reason why you’re blushing?” he whispers to you. No need to raise his voice when you two are so close. 

His eyes dart across every part of your face frantically, looking for your answer.

But your answer comes in form of a smile and the shake of your head.

He returns your smile. “Y/n?” 

“Cassian?” you murmur.

He blinks before saying softly, “Would you-"

“Y/N!”

Father.

You quickly detach yourself from Cassian’s hold, turning to your clearly mad father, who is walking, almost running, to you.

At the sight, Cassian takes your hand again, protecting you, ready to strike if needed. 

“Get away from her, you Illyrian brute!” your father shouts. You move your gaze to the general, and it breaks your heart the way he ducks his head slightly, in his eyes the weight of your father’s words.

“Father!” you bark.

But he ignores you, his eyes glaring to where Cassian hands hold yours tightly. “Stop touching her! Now!” 

Cassian turns to you, silently asking. You don’t want him to let go of your hand. Don’t want him to go. But your father… is better not to get him too mad. And he’s already bursting with rage.

And thinking about the consequences of this…

“Let go,” you manage to mumble weakly. And you see it in his face; you’ve hurt him. He thinks you don’t want your father to see you with him. You see it. 

And when he lets go of your hand, you feel… something. Something stronger and more powerful than anything you've ever felt. 

There’s a raw need to take his hand again, to follow the string between yours and his, that is getting longer with every step he takes away from you. 

The string between you. The string.

Your… mate.

“Cassian” you whisper. 

“Shut up!” Your father goes to grab your arm, pulling you to him. “We’re going home! Now!”

But you don’t stop. “Cassian!”

With tears in your eyes, you see him keep walking, only turning his head enough for you to make out his face profile in the obscurity, then he becomes just a silhouette in the night. 

And you can do nothing as he walks away, disappearing into the dark. 

You just watch. 

(next part)

-Characters by Saraah J. Maas

A bit of cliché(ness) won’t hurt anybody :)). my head hurts like really bad after spending about 4 hours writing. absolutley worth it, though; i really like how this turned out. hope you liked it aswell. next thing i'll be writing will be for more than this series. k, that's it. thank you and bye bye :)).

#cassian x reader #cassian angst #cassian #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian fic #acotar fic #cassian fanfic

[erospandemos]

I just can't help it

Yandere Chaewon x Reader

Part 1

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

― Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women

What you’re about to read is a confession to you. An apology, if you prefer to call it that, as I’ve professed my love to you plenty of times—although it won’t ever be enough—and you’re at the knowledge of every crime I’ve committed since we met. 

My Korean teacher repeatedly reiterated the lack of clarity in my essays and oral exams. I’m not good with words, you see. That’s why I thought that letting you know about the events in my life that shaped me and the feelings that followed me throughout these months would make you understand me better.

I know our conversations weren’t as deep as you probably expected. I’ve tried to explain myself to the best of my abilities and even if it was a mess you seemed to make out that flurry of words and comfort me. Sometimes, I truly thought you understood me more than I did. 

It’s true that we always talked in riddles and puzzles but it made more sense that way. Because our—my—love was pure madness and somehow the riddles explained it better than we ever could. 

The lack of sleep shouldn’t have affected my mind too much, at least in the part that’s in charge of writing. 

If you’re reading this, I hope you understand. Sorry if I’m rambling a lot, and sorry if I will ramble more in the following pages. Right, sorry if I’m apologizing a lot—you told me not to do that. I just can’t help it.

I was tortured since the age of 6 when I started going to elementary school, that’s as far as I can remember. You could also say I was “bullied”, it’s what the adults like to call it, but it’s the same thing. People get defensive, almost offended when I use the other term. “Wow,” was a common reaction, “that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” I didn’t think it was extreme. 

When I so naively asked my teacher the difference between the two words, she chuckled and looked at me as if I asked her what the difference between hot and cold was. Surprise was another clear feeling I could read from her expression. She asked me how I knew those words. I simply said I heard them from outside and she told me to forget them.

That evening, when I came home, I  took the chair from my mother’s desk and put it next to the bookshelf, I climbed it and looked at the books on the top shelf. They were the books she used the least and between them, sitting all dusty and forgotten, was also the dictionary. 

I blew and rubbed the dust away then I looked for the two words. I read the two definitions closely and more than one time but I still didn’t understand. They were the same. 

I didn’t ask my teacher anything else. My teacher was clearly against explaining them to me.

But I was sure, I knew those two words extremely well because I felt them on my skin. 

I wanted to be an idol. I told everyone in my class because I thought it was a normal dream—we all watched idols on TV in the afternoon—and being an astronaut seemed a lot harder. Apparently, it wasn’t. Because I wanted to perform on a stage, I was “pretentious”, “narcissistic”, an “attention-seeker”, and a “whore”. I didn’t know what they meant and thought they were compliments and they etched those words into my skin. 

I later found their definitions in the dictionary and understood what they were saying.

I wasn’t the only girl who wanted to be an idol. Hayoon, a classmate of mine, dreamt of testing for JYP, SM, YG, and all those big companies. She took dance and singing classes, they were both in group and private. She could afford it because her family was very rich. From what I heard in the classroom, she started training when she was just a little girl because her parents saw her dancing in front of the TV during an episode of Inkigayo.

Surprisingly, Hayoon was never shamed. Because she was “humble” and had “her feet on the ground”. She was loved by everyone and was the most favored prospect for the role of an idol, everyone seemed to believe in her dream. She was confident, danced well, and was beautiful. All the girls went to her house at least twice a month to go to her huge pool, splendid garden, and majestic house. I never went, I was never invited.

She was good at everything and topped all subjects. However, I sang better than her. In music classes and festivals, I was always chosen and often took the roles instead of her. When she realized she wasn’t the best, she became embarrassed and frustrated. 

She didn’t have any way of making me sing worse and neither could sing better than me, even after all those expensive lessons, so she took to poking fun at me to try and drag me down. Of course her friends joined as well. They were always calling me "ugly", "weird", and "gross" in a way that didn’t seem childish or playful, but demeaning and insulting.

The other kids constantly berated me between classes, glued my books to the desk, slapped me and then ran away. They knew all the spots where there was no CCTV in the school. They even stole my brand-new headphones and glued my shoestrings to my shoes when I didn’t see them. We wore slippers and my shoes were in my locker.

My teachers never helped me. I’ve tried telling them and they didn’t believe me, or rather, they chose not to believe me because that was easier for them.

Only a girl had the courage to help me, it only took one word and two days to have everyone against her. “Stop,” she only said that and then everyone hated her. You never go against the group, you never try to make yourself different, you never try to fight back. 

In the end, I understood the difference between torture and bullying: one was for hurting and one was for fun.

During middle school, the bullying stepped up a notch. Some of my classmates went to my same middle school, they had many friends there and the rumors spread like wildfire. Many of the students liked to take their stress out by bullying other students. They were pathetic and talentless, they hated anyone who had potential unless they provided them anything, like Hayoon.

Smoking was illegal. But they didn’t care. They found all the corners of the school where the CCTV didn’t see them and studied where the professors usually walked to avoid their path. It wasn’t always perfect and sometimes they were caught but it sure helped them and the bullies.

One day, I was dragged by my hair behind the basketball court and after getting pushed to the ground, the girls started slapping, laughing, and kicking me. The smoke from their cigarettes and the kicks to my belly and back took the air out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die. They were experienced—they noticed my lack of breath, gave me breaks to catch it, and started kicking me again.

They were caught by a teacher who forgot his bag. They claimed they were only giving me “birthday punches” and didn’t admit anything, nor apologized. They weren’t stupid either. The girls had a very good reputation and a good student persona, essentially they didn’t have any criminal records. 

When I was asked what happened, I was ready to tell them all the atrocities that took place in school. But then, I remembered the girls’ eyes. I looked at the professor and I knew, right there and then, that he didn’t believe me, even before I said anything. They wouldn’t have done anything but the word would have been out, that I snitched on the bullies and then I wouldn’t have survived.

So I stayed silent.

The girls only got punished for smoking after they explained they only wanted to try and continued to do it anyway.

Between the end of middle school and the start of high school, the bullies got more creative. They tied me up and broke my legs with a crowbar. The older the girls got, the more of them wanted to be idols, and the first thing they had to do was to get rid of the competition. They succeeded as I stopped dancing altogether since that day.

I continued singing but nobody wants to see an idol in a wheelchair, right?

After I couldn’t walk normally anymore, they started treating me like a rag. They used me to clean the bathroom, by pushing me around on the floor, putting my face against the toilet, and mopping me with dirty water. I was like a toy to them and their friends joined the fun.

Part 2

It was no wonder that many bullied students leave the school. Sometimes, they leave on their own, because they can’t stand the torture anymore, other times, the school removes them. The bullies only bully others because they can and they know they can get away with it: they have influential parents or come from wealthy families, so the school can only quietly get rid of the problem and those are the victims that can’t stay quiet.

The class in my department didn’t have many students but it was enough: 20 students. During the year, 5 students left, and at the end of the year, 2 others were sent to another school in the province. The remaining 13 weren’t enough to be left alone in the classroom so they joined us with a class from another department that also lost many students. In total, we were 31, which was a big number but they didn’t have any other choice.

You were one of those students. I only noticed you after a week because I got used to keeping my eyes low not to anger any of my classmates. You sat beside me. People usually tend to avoid me since they could also become victims of the bullies but you knew it and it was your decision.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked me. When I heard your voice, I had a moment of hesitation. I kept staring at the wooden desk but then I thought that you might have accused me of being rude for ignoring you and that would have been a good enough reason to pick on me, so I raised my eyes.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. Your eyes were cold. I genuinely thought you were a bully too.

“Then, can I seat here?”

“You can if you want…” I told you, unsure. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? You fart a lot?”

I was taken aback. “No! I don’t.”

“I suppose it’s fine then,” you said and took the chair out to take your desk. You started getting ready for the lesson and didn’t seem to have any intention of doing anything to me. Every time someone spoke to me, it was to make a comment, make a joke, or give me an order. Still, I was suspicious of you.

The lesson proceeded as usual. You took your notes very diligently, writing almost everything the teacher said, making graphs and small summaries to keep your memory fresh. If you were to tell me you were the top student in your class, I would have believed it and later I’d find out you really were.

Your behavior wasn’t the one of a bully. And it wasn’t the behavior of a bullied either.

At the end of the last lesson before the lunch break, the teacher gave us surveys for our future career choices. I stared at the paper with a pen in my hand. What should I write? My future, my future was stolen from me. My dream was as meaningful as an ant’s life. After everything they did and said to me, a miserable life of insignificance and sadness sounded perfectly fit for me. I kept wondering and pondering until you turned to me.

“What do you want to do when you grow up, Chaewon?” you asked me while you were lazily spinning your pen between your fingers.

“I- I don’t know, what about you?” I stuttered. I couldn’t bring myself up to pronounce those words. I felt as if I had been banished from even muttering them and thinking about it only brought me horrible memories.

“Web security,” you said. “I go around and check companies’ safety in their servers and sites. I’ve already started an internship so I’m sure it’s what I’m going to do.”

“An internship? This early?”

“Yeah, I figured the more experience I get, the better. I got nothing better to do anyways.”

“Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you hang out with your… friends?”

“I don’t have that many friends, to be honest,” you replied nonchalantly. “I mean, I do go out like once every three months so it isn’t a lot but I still have friends I can talk to. I’ve never been good with people, I guess.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“I was always better on my own. I tried a lot of stuff and I liked web stuff better,” then you turned to me for a second time, looking at me more intensely than before, “but you didn’t answer my question yet. What do you wanna do?”

Being put on the spot like that, I wasn’t sure about what I was allowed to say. More than that, I didn’t know what I really wanted, if the dust of my once desire was still in me if my heart wasn’t dead cold. However, after all these years, a subtle string of fate kept me going and it was still something that I liked doing.

I looked at your eyes. They didn’t scare me.

“I want to be… an idol,” I said in a single breath. After I finished the sentence, a heavy feeling of guilt dawned on me. I felt as if I just committed a crime and I was in danger.

But you didn’t judge me.

“An idol, huh?” You laid back on your chair. “That’s pretty cool. I know it’s very hard if you really want to do it, props to you. It takes some guts to train for that stuff. To dance all day, to have everyone look at you, it’s something.”

“Do- do you think I can do it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t know how well you dance, or how good you sing, or even what you tested for.”

“But is it a possible dream?”

“You can watch idols too, right? They had the same dream as you did. They did it. I think it’s possible, yeah. And I think you can do it, Chaewon.”

When you said that, I felt so relieved. It was comforting. Finally, I found someone that didn’t hate me, that didn’t shame and believed in me.

Just as you stopped talking, the bell rang. It was the time.

“Oh, look at her, ms. Idol,” said Yejun and pushed my head away for fun. He started laughing.

“Hands off, Yejun. And go away before I sock you in the face,” you said.

“I’m so scared, oh my god,” he laughed. “What do you think you’ll do huh? Do you want to protect this filthy rag? How generous,” he said and then slapped me.

“That’s enough, fuckface,” you got up and stared into his eyes. “That’s the last warning. Leave before I do something I might regret.”

He scoffed. “Really, you talk a lot. Don’t forget that you work for my father.”

“I don’t think you get it, Yejun. I don’t just work for your father. He depends on me. One click and his whole 20 servers will blow up. Do you really think that incompetent fool of your father fixed all the problems? He doesn’t know shit about his stuff, he only knows how to count money and scam his workers. There are so many weaknesses I could just hack the whole thing and change your company to my name.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. Now, that I’ve seen who this rag of yours is, tell your friends to keep their hands off her. I don’t want to see your father come back and beg at me and he’ll know it was all your fault. Everyone listens to you apparently, so spread the word. I won’t hesitate.”

Yejun stormed out of the class in anger.

I felt like I was reborn, that I finally found my savior. You were the angel I needed and you came to save me from this hell.

“I don’t like this place, let’s get out of here,” you said and I followed you.

We went to grab lunch but right behind the vending machines you got attacked. He called you a nerd, whatever he did, but I couldn’t stand it. I felt a force in me and I grabbed his neck, I squeezed until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for you trying to get me off, I would have killed him.

Just as that guy run off, you freaked out. I didn’t blame you. Still, you took my arm and pulled me to somewhere more covered to talk to me, scared that someone else might have seen it. I could see the surprise in your eyes, but you didn’t look terrified, you were concerned if anything.

Your hand was still bleeding, the red liquid dripped to the floor. I stared at the droplets, slowly coloring the grey concrete, as if it was the ticking of a clock. At each tick, I was getting more impatient, there was something inside me that wanted to jump out, run after who hurt you, and make him pay for it. But I had to calm down, you were in front of me.

“Chaewon, what the hell!” you whisper-shouted while repeatedly glancing behind your back and into the hallway. “Where did that come from?”

“I-I don’t know what happened,” I stuttered. I was saying the truth—at the time, I truly didn’t know why I reacted in the way I did. I never raised my hands, I never talked back, I never reacted.

“Shit, I’m bleeding a lot,” you cursed. You gritted your teeth and started walking towards the school clinic. I followed you.

You talked to me as we were walking. “You don’t just choke people randomly, you know?”

“I- I really swear! I pro-promise… I have no idea what happened!”

“Listen, Chaewon, I saw you pinning his neck against the wall. You raised a senior with one hand.”

When we were in front of the nurse's office, you pinched your nose and waved your hand to stop me from talking. The cuff of your white shirt was stained with red, it already spread so much in just a short time. You must have been in pain. My blood was boiling.

“You can explain yourself later,” you said and opened the door. “I have to close this wound first.”

I followed you into the room. For some reason, the room was empty, there was no trace of the nurse and it looked like she hasn’t been there for a long time as everything was very tidy and the coat hanger was empty. Often, when people can avoid work, they’ll do it. The nurse must have seen that there was no one needing her in the morning and decided to leave for some coffee.

You sat on one of the beds, keeping your arm stretched out so the blood wouldn’t stain the sheets and with another hand, you searched into the cabinet for something you could help yourself with. You took out bandaids, alcohol, gauze and cotton buds. You really made a mess, trying to pour the alcohol on your arm and spilling half of the content on the floor.

After sloppily cleaning yourself with cotton, you got the bandaids.

“Do you really think bandaids will do?” I asked you. “It’s way too deep.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Yeah, we have to put stitches on you.” I took the chairs from the desk and sat in front of you. In the cabinet beside the bed, there were also needles and thread for that procedure. Luckily there was an anesthetic as well.

I put on gloves. I cleaned your wound again, better than you did before, and applied the anesthetic gel. It took about two minutes to take effect, in the meanwhile I prepared the rest of the equipment I needed: forceps, curved needle, and new thread.

When I was sure you didn’t feel anything, I started stitching your wound.

“How did you learn this?” you asked me so curiously.

“I… I got used to taking care of myself,” I said softly. It was embarrassing. You nodded. I could feel your eyes scan me, looking at all my bruises, the bandaids on my face, and many more wounds underneath my shirt.

You sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope they won’t attack you anymore. Always stay with me, they are scared of people who have a known name.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think it will do anything.”

“Just do as I say,” you repeated. I could see how sure you were from your face. You definitely didn’t see, as my face was facing the floor, but I smiled for the first time after you said that. Your desire of protecting me was honest. I was really happy that you cared for me.

When I came home, I had the time to think through what happened that day. As I was drinking a cup of water, I looked at myself in the reflection of the window, my fingers tracing my wounds and bruises, itching the dried blood on my nails. Where did that strength come from? I could have sworn they had taken every ounce of energy from me, I knew I had no will, no ambition, no desire to even talk back until today. And yet, I hurt him.

I felt good. It didn’t feel good to hurt him per se but to know I defended you. As to him, I should have killed him. But you stopped me. You shouldn’t have done that. He hurt you. That shabby gross fool tried to hurt you, how could he?!

I was so lucky to have caught you before it was late. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened to you if he succeeded—the bruises on your face, the blood on your face—you would have looked just like me. No, I couldn’t stand that. You didn’t deserve to go through the pain that I did, not after you defended me. Oh, if only I could lay my hand on those sinners, the pain I could inflict them, all the experiences that I felt inside my skin, into my very flesh.

I want to hear them scream. To beg for forgiveness. To regret their very existence. I want them to apologize to you, to offer their life…

Crack

I looked down at my hands. What a mess. I completely shattered the cup I was holding—bits of sharp glass everywhere, even some into my skin. The veins of my hand were bulging, I could feel the blood in my body flowing so fast and forcefully. The adrenaline was high in my brain.

I didn’t realize what I did until I heard the sudden noise.

It was true, just as you said. It wasn’t me. But why? This must have happened because I was thinking of you getting hurt… yes, it was your thought, just you. It was because of you. I didn’t want to see you hurt, you were my only hope in this world, just the thought sent a shock through my spine and into my head, and I would go crazy.

You made me like this.

Completely insane.

“Chaewon! What happened?” I heard Yujin calling me and I turned around to see her rushing out the hallway. Yujin was my roommate, we shared the rent because it was cheaper that way. She wasn’t a bad person, not at all. But she couldn’t understand my life, she lived between rich girls and handsome guys.

To be kind, you need to know what misery is. She was just nice.

“Oh, Kirin-chan,” I said.

“How did you break your glass?” she asked worryingly, grabbing a towel to clean my bloody hand of the bits of glass.

“My bad, I was standing up and it just slipped out of my hand.”

“Then how did it get all over your palm?”

“I slipped and fell right onto it, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Yeah,” she commented without much belief, “just like all the time you come home with bruises on your face.”

“It isn’t my fault if they don’t put warnings after cleaning the stairs.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she repeated. “Anyways, don’t forget to clean it up, I’ll go back to studying,” she ended, turning around and leaving the lounge to return to her prettier room.

I continued to stare at my hand.

I couldn’t help but think about you again… my head got foggy… my thoughts haunting…

What if they scarred you?

What if they bullied you?

What if girls broke your heart?

What if you were friends with the wrong people?

I knew I was crossing a line when those questions took form but it was too late and I didn’t even care anymore. It was a promise I made myself, to protect who I loved, and I swore I wouldn’t fail again. I would protect you forever, no matter what.

I feared that you’d run away from me but instead, we got way closer than before. When I walked into school the day after the incident, I was genuinely scared I wouldn’t have seen you—that you had stayed at home, that you changed class or even school. What worried me the most was the fact that you could have been scared of me.

I waited for you anxiously. I kept scratching my nails, rubbing my arms, looking around for you. So many times I got up and walked around the paths outside the school where I thought you’d usually walk, even if I didn’t know well what were your habits, and not finding you, I’d sit back at the wall and wait again.

After several minutes, you arrived at school. At the sight of you, my dizziness and worries faded away. I immediately ran at you and hugged you so tight, you had to know how much I missed you.

You were surprised, of course, you were. “Huh? What has gotten into you Chaewon?” you laughed jokingly.

“I just thought you wouldn’t come to school anymore,” I told you.

“Why would I do that? Today is a school day.”

“It’s okay, that’s perfect. I’m just so glad I can see you again.”

Part 3

The door opened to the locker room and I and the other trainees entered sitting down. They changed their clothes from casual streetwear to old clothes and gym wear. I’ve been training for a bit now, I got to know all the trainees well, there were a lot before but now they only remained half. The one that finished first started stretching. "It's one minute and a half. Let's do this," she sighed.

One of them threw to the other a white sheet with a name written on it and did the same with the others. "Here. Your name tags."

"That's it? Just a minute?" the girl chuckled.

"A minute and a half. Everyone does their part and it's a difficult choreography, don't you forget. It will be enough."

"It's for evaluation. Don't forget every detail counts," another girl added.

We went out of the room and made our way toward the practice room, each one with a name tag on it. The corridor leading to it was cold, probably because they just changed from thick to thin clothes, but it got hotter towards the end where the air got denser. One at a time, they entered bowing at the line of men sitting on the right of the mirror in front of the door.

Everyone had papers and a pen and a serious look plastered on their faces. After a couple of stretches, the girls got into position and the music started. They smiled and danced with their full capability and the judges looked sharp. When the music stopped they held their ending pose and went in a line waiting for their words. The air suddenly felt cold.

"There had been improvements on what we said the first time. But we can also fix others," the first said and the men nodded. They wrote on the paper and scribbled.

"You. When the others did their move you were coordinated and that's fine but you did it wrong. You need to raise your hand higher," he said making the move himself and the girl followed.

"Can you do the move a bit before the ending?" another one asked, gesturing his intention. "Yes, that one. Please get into the position and do it."

They did and when it came to the next section he spoke again, "One more time."

"Once more."

"Five...six.. seven... eight... an-"

"Okay," he said and got up walking to the center of the room. He demonstrated the move more and more times. "Don't tense your muscles too much when you do this alright?"

"But," the oldest got up, "you were all a lot better today, good job. Specially Soojin and Gaeul."

"That's it, goodbye," they said.

"Thank you!" the girls answered together.

BLAM. The oldest almost slips as he got out and the others held him up. The girls let out a muffled laugh, their mouths covered with their hands."See girls, don't tense your muscles too much or they won't work properly," the man chuckled. The judges left fast, embarrassed by their eldest and the group laughed in relief.

"Are we really doing this? They are not saying anything anymore."

The youngest looked at them from the ground, laid down breathing hard, and said, "We're close to debuting."

When everyone was done with their stuff and cleaned themselves they left. Almost all of them ran out to catch the last bus of the day or were just in a hurry. I, on the other hand, had to walk home so I did everything slower. When I got out, in the distance, I heard a group of girls around my age shouting and laughing. When they got closer, I realized they were my classmates, there were about four of them and they were drunk.

They noticed me.

"Look at you. It's late, pretty girls like you shouldn't stay out," one of them said and I frowned.

"Don't tell me. You were practicing?" she said laughing. The other three got in a semi-circle in front of me.

"It's a really difficult life isn't it, miss idol? Everybody wants you and you're here dancing until late," she mocked me, with her fingers under her eyes faking tears, and let out a hearty laugh. The choir followed with a carol of joy.

"It's sad really," she continued, "so popular but so tired."

She pushed me down on the ground and the group stepped back making more space for the two. She forcefully pulled my hair, forcing me to get up. The girl got closer and said, "And you're so pretty. It would be a shame if anything happened to this pretty face."

She slapped me. They laughed. They kicked me. I tried to defend myself, curling into a fetus position and protecting my head. They snickered as they continued wasting the effects of the alcohol on me. When they were finally satisfied, they got up and left me there on the side of the road and went away to the opposite way of where they came from.

I remained on the ground with tears on her face and sobbed trying not to make any noise, I wanted silence. However I heard their voices again, from the distance, and they were screaming.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the same girl as before squealed."We're girls, you think you can-." The group gasped.

"You're five and I'm one and you just beat that girl up. You think I care?" It was a male voice.

The girls ran away but the guy didn't try to chase them and walked to me.

"There's a convenience store nearby, we can get something cold for your face," he said with a soft tone. I recognized the voice and looked at him, I recognized his face too. It was you. My legs trembled a little as I held myself upon your shoulder for support. "It's fine, take your time," you said dusting my back.

At the shop, you bought a bag of frozen peas so I could put it on my face where it still hurts. "I ate those for dinner, they're great. I can use them for everything, look, you're using them too now," you said and I laughed. I calmed down a little and your face got more serious and worried.

"I told you. Starting from tomorrow I'll bring you home," you said.

"But it was only this time," I said.

"And the other four before."

"Kind of."

"Being there by 11:30 should be good."

"But you should sleep."

"I would just be studying, and either way, it's way better to have your company," you insisted, leaning down on the chair. A small smile formed on my face. Ever since that day, the two always walked home late at night even when it was freezing or when it was raining. We got way closer.

You grew up so well. Unfortunately, many girls seemed to notice you and fall for you. I don’t blame them, you were very charming, so attractive for such a young student but I couldn’t let them near you. They were fools, too stupid to realize they were nowhere close to your level, you were levels above and they were just insects. I had to make sure no one bothered you, to avoid you crying because some worthless bitch broke your heart.

I was surprised when you told me you got asked out. But then I felt my chest burn.

There’s only one thing that I can’t stand in this world and that’s people who think they can take what’s mine. I don’t care about gossip, jealousy or envy, I don’t have anyone to compete with, I just want what’s mine. And you are mine.

It was so easy to scare them away. All it took was a quick talk behind the school, a very convincing speech, a cutter to their throats…

They were scared of me. Good. You didn’t suspect anything—they’d still smile at me as if nothing happened, I made sure to tell them. I couldn’t let you know, to worry more than you already were.

The bullying had completely stopped towards me because you were always by my side defending me and eventually they all got the message. If you were just a crush before, now I love you. If I loved you, now I worship you. You’re my religion, my god, my purpose. I’ll kill for you, live for you, and I’ll love you forever. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Whether that’s heaven, hell, or any other world. My very existence is embroidered into your name, I can’t exist without you.

Things were going great, so great. You only had eyes for me. Those two beautiful pupils could only look at me, at my face, at my body, only at me. I loved when you stared at me, I was yours after all, you could watch how much you wanted.

That was until those two eyes became one. You got a big bruise on your left eye, it was swollen, black, and horrible.

You were waiting for me near the big tree behind the school like you always did, and you talked to me like you always did, without worry or pain. “Hey, Chaewon,” you greeted me.

“What happened?!”

“Nothing, I just hurt myself,” you lied. How naive you were, you were too kind, too nice. I didn’t believe you one single bit. I wonder why you did that? Why did you lie to me? Was it to protect whoever did that to you? To protect who hurt you?

“Tell me. Tell me, who hurt you?” I asked you calmly.

“It’s really nothing Chae… I’m serious, I only hurt myself—”

“TELL ME WHO THE HELL HURT YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!” I asked again, the sudden increase in volume startled you and you backed away into the tree. I didn’t know at the time, and you’d tell me later, but my eyes were empty. You got scared, I apologize, I just couldn’t help it.

“Ch-Chaewon?” you stuttered.

When I realized you were terrified, I calmed down. “Huh? Oh, my bad, sorry… I was just really worried, but now, please tell me.” I shook my head and took a couple of steps back.

“Okay, I will tell you… it was Seojun,” you finally confessed. “I bumped into him and spilled his drink on his uniform. I apologized, but since I was alone and his ‘friends’ were with him, they thought they could get their revenge on me.”

“I see… let’s get you some ice for that eye for now,” I told you and we started to walk into the infirmary for the second time. I hated walking into that place, especially with you. I tried my best to hold it inside me, not to scare you again, but I was going to snap anytime soon.

“Chae, are you alright?” you asked me.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear… and it will okay from now on. You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.”

You know, people say that the first time is special, you never forget it. The first time I bathed my hands in the warm liquid that is human blood, my body was cold. I felt hesitation at first, but I knew I was doing it for you, and thinking about you, all that fear was gone. And I killed him.

Yes, it was me that killed Seojun. I don’t regret one bit what I’ve done to him. I made sure he suffered as much as he made you suffer. An eye for an eye, as they say.

That day was special, it was like I confessed to you and instead of a ring, I gave you a life. It was only fair you’d give me your life in return.

The murder of Seojun made headlines in the news and when asked about it, the students never said anything nor praised or acted sad at his death. No one missed him. It’s quite sad that life can be so insignificant that not a single person will care about how gruesome your death was and forget you the next day. To be quite honest, he deserved it. We die in the same way we live.

You were a bit suspicious of me at first. You didn’t really doubt me—you were curious. The news of his death was delivered by our professor during the first period with a sigh before continuing the lesson. The reactions were mixed but mostly towards one extreme: relief.

When a bad person dies, two things will happen: if you’re a good person or a victim, you will be happy; if you’re equally bad then you’ll be scared, because you know he already got what he deserved and nothing prevented you from having the same fate as nothing is stronger than luck.

You were both worried and glad. I’ve always noticed how you tend to care about other people, it’s something that I really love about you, you just have to direct toward the people who deserve it. “Hey, Chae, do you know anything about Seojun’s murder?” you asked me during the break. You were hesitant at first but I was sure you’ve thought about it long enough to decide to spill it.

You must have thought about what I said the other day: You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrow at you. “Why would I have anything to do with his death?”

“W-well… you see… you said that I didn’t have to worry about him anymore and the next day… he dies.” Your shoulders were so tight almost as if you were trying to keep the words inside of you. Your gaze flitted around the room, never settling on one person or object for long.

“It must have been a coincidence,” I told you. “And karma.”

“Right,” you muttered. Then you relaxed your shoulders.

“By the way,” I changed the topic, “there is going to be the last test before the debut at Hybe.”

Your eyes changed completely, they brightened. Every time I talked about my dream, you always seemed too excited for me. You fully believed in my ambition and constantly encouraged me to keep trying. Whenever I practiced, I always thought of you.

I always think of you.

“That’s awesome, Chae. It’s your opportunity, you wanted to become an idol all this time.”

“I will start practicing right away then,” I said. “I want to be with you that day. Can you come with me?”

“What day will it be?”

“Next Saturday, 4:00 pm.”

“Next Saturday… 4:00 pm,” you repeated. “I’ll make sure to be there—I will be there, I will.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and hugged you. You were still a bit against the idea of hugging but slowly you were getting used to it. I trusted that you’ll eventually come to love it.

I had prepared about four songs for the test: two for my singing and two for my dancing, one of them was good for both. I decided to be very broad with my songs because if they asked for more, I’d be prepared. You never know. I didn’t want to go there and have them ask for a random song and fail horribly.

You were waiting for me in front of the building with a little bag of snacks. I mentioned all of them before to you and you remembered. Some of them were for when I’d finish the whole thing and some as a snack to calm my nerves.

Honestly, I felt like you were my boyfriend already. If anyone saw us together, they’d say the same thing. Every little thing you did was so full of attention, I knew you cared for me, and I loved you so much.

Anyways, the time came. I bid you goodbye and entered.

The test went terribly wrong.

You waited two hours for me, only for me to blow it all up. When I came out, I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want you to see me at all.

“So Chae, how was it?” you asked but I didn’t reply. It was hard to come up with any word at all. I couldn’t even look at you in the eyes.

“Chae?”

“Chaewon?”

You finally got enough at the third time and you grabbed my shoulder to shake and direct my gaze at you. “Chaewon, answer me please!” you said with an upset tone.

“Do you… do you think I’m a failure?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked back.

“Hey, am I a failure? Tell me. Were the guys right? I am not meant to be an idol after all, should I give up after all? Tell me, please!” I hiccuped and cried. I was truly heartbroken. It was the test per se but the fact that I disappointed you, that I wasted all your determination and belief you had in me.

“Chaewon, no…” you whispered and went for a hug. It was awkward, you didn’t know how to hug. You tried to put a hand on my shoulder and one on my hip, but it didn’t work. Then you tried to put both of them on my shoulder but you looked like you wanted to headbut me. On the third try, you succeeded and properly hugged me very tightly.

I buried my head into your chest, it was where I could really feel safe.

“Chaewon, what happened in there? How did it go?”

“I FAILED! I BLEW IT ALL UP! IT’S ALL GONE!” I yelled and gripped you harder.

“How is that possible? You’re perfect, I mean, you sing so beautifully and you’re beautiful,” you said. “You’ve been practicing… why? How?”

“I’m sorry it’s that I was so worried. I got distracted. I continued to ask myself if I’d fail and so on… I knew the lyrics but I got jittery and…”

“No, Chaewon! I told you to believe in yourself. You can do it. You can do it.”

“But—”

“You have talent, Chae,” you repeated, “and I’ve seen it since day one. You will not fail. You just have to try again.”

I was embarrassed to see if I could try again but you weren’t and you stormed inside the building, dragging me by arm to ask the staff if I could try again. You explained everything and even pleaded with them until they gave in.

This time, you were waiting for me outside the door. I knew I wouldn’t fail again.

Don’t think about anything else. Focus.

I sang the first song. Just like I practiced. Then I danced. It was perfect.

I passed. I was so happy and I just had to tell you. I ran outside but you weren’t there.

I searched everywhere until I understood you weren’t in the building and had to search for you outside. I found you in an alley, bloody and bruised.

I immediately called the ambulance and they rushed you to the hospital. Your condition was so bad they had to x-ray your whole body and do a small surgery.

When I found you, you could barely talk or even breathe. You were laying in a pool of blood, that came from the numerous cuts all over your body—they weren’t clean but all rough and jacked, meaning they came from brute force and not blades. Your clothes were also messed up and ripped. Together, I could count on 19 injuries at least. I couldn’t understand at all. Why would someone do that to you? And how did it happen?

Together with you was a bag with two drinks and a couple of sandwiches. I suppose you went outside to a convenience store to buy something, maybe for me, and then… you were attacked. This may have been premeditated, it’s impossible a group of people randomly hurt you that bad.

I couldn’t stop crying, you know?

To see you in those conditions, I could only think of the worse.

What if you’d never wake up again?

What if you’d be miserable for the rest of your life?

What if you died?

It was my fault. I’m sorry, it was totally my fault. It was because I took way too long in the test, chatting with the staff, seeing the other girls so happily, while you were being jumped… I could have protected you, we could have gone home together and this would have never happened.

The doctor called me. “Kim Chaewon?”

“Yes?” I raised my eyes. I saw him and wiped my tears before standing up and walking to him.

“Is he okay…?” I asked.

“He’s not in danger is what I can tell you. Some of his bones are broken and he has received a concussion, he may be asleep for a while, you see,” he said.

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, you can,” the doctor agreed, “this way…”

He guided me toward another floor of the hospital. You have been transferred from the emergency room to the patient’s rooms. You were in the section where more care was needed—the hallway was quieter, everyone walked slower, and everything was more gentle.

I entered your room slowly, holding myself up with a hand on the door frame and then I saw you. Your eyes were closed. Your whole body was covered in bandages and you were hooked to all sorts of machines with cables and cords everywhere. It was almost like seeing a puppet tied up in strings and they were keeping you alive.

I was scared to come close to you. I feared that any of my movements could have damaged you even more. You were so fragile at that moment.

I gently lowered myself to the chair next to your bed and held your hand. I cried. I cried again, so much. I couldn’t help but keep thinking it was my fault. If only I was quicker…

Some of your items were put in the drawer. I noticed your phone together with your wallet and backpack. The screen was cracked and some of the blood crusted into the cracks. I don’t know why I felt curious but I unlocked the screen—you trusted me enough to let me know your password months ago to check some messages while you were busy cooking—and it opened KakaoTalk. You were texting me and the phone memorized it.

Chae be careful the bullies might be after you

Don’t go in the shortcut at the

Oh, dear. You were on the brink of death and all you could think was to warn me, to protect me. You didn’t even think of calling for help. I understood everything. It was those bullies again… they didn’t forget, did they? It’s because their life turned to hell after they didn’t have anyone to bully anymore and they got revenge but attacking you.

I was angry. I was furious. I was so pissed that I unconsciously cracked your phone even more. It was that feeling again, all over—the fire in my chest.

I will kill them. Each one of the. I will make them suffer. I will tear them to shreds. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them.

I will make them pay for everything they have done for you.

They were so stupid. It was so easy to trick them: I attacked their leader when he was coming home late and forced him to send a message to everyone who was involved in your attack—he confessed right away when I showed him my knife.

The guys came on point the next day. It was all so easy. They always hung out at the abandoned warehouse where they could make all the mess they wanted and dragged their victims to torture them properly and in private. Now they were dragging themselves to their death.

I dressed in black that day. You never liked seeing me in black. People used to tell me I tried to stand out too much so they forced me to use torn, old, ugly clothes, but when they stopped tormenting me, you brought me to buy more clothes for me.

But that day I wasn’t dressing as the victim. I was in the guise of the Grim Reaper.

I prepared my knives, axes, clamps, nails, and staplers and waited for them in the building.

Humans are so easy to kill. They are so frail and mortal—I had to be extremely careful not to let them die immediately to cause them all the pain they deserved. I’ll spare you the details. You don’t have to know of the gruesome parts of their murder. I’ll just tell you everything they did to you and in their years of bullying, I did to them. From crowbars to knives, to fire and stabbing.

When the last one stopped screaming, I felt at peace. The silence was absolute. I couldn’t even hear the wind, the cars, or the noises of the city. It was completely quiet.

I finally avenged you.

Part 4

Disposing of the bodies was quite simple but extremely tiring. I had to chop their bodies to bits, bury them and hide all the evidence. I cleaned with bleach all my weapons, the floor, and the walls of the warehouse. I had to soil the floor since it was dirty before and I couldn’t leave a clean patch in there, it would have been a dead giveaway.

Of course, I had to get rid of all their phones. I broke them into little pieces before grinding them up to a bag of dust and flushing them down the toilet.

I got most of my weapons from around the city. I stole the knives from the school kitchen and returned them to them. I did the crime on a Friday night and finished in the evening of Saturday so they wouldn’t have noticed the disappearance of their tools. I bought the rest of the tools from a hardware store so I could have just put it in someone else’s garage.

I couldn’t burn my clothes or rags because that would have caught the attention of my neighbors or anyone nearby so I colored it with all sorts of paints so the blood would have been unrecognizable. If anyone analyzed them, it would look like they were of an artist. And then I disposed of them.

Burying the bodies was the most laborious part and I could only do it during the night. It took me both Saturday and sunday to get rid of all the evidence.

The next days were all marked by nightmares. I didn’t dream of what I did. What haunted me was you leaving me. I was afraid that my crime could have separated us.

Chaewon, you’re a monster.

I can’t be friends with a murderer.

I can’t love a killer.

I hate you.

I wish you died.

I was distressed and jittery during the day and couldn’t sleep at night. Many times I would get distracted in those thoughts, imagining all the things you could say to me, and not realize people calling me. I would often zone out and not hear anything else.

“Chaewon? Are you okay?” my classmates would tell me. I would snap out of my daze and realize most of them were looking at me then I’d realize I actually chipped a corner of the table off with my grip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” I could only say. They would continue with the day forgetting about it or just tell their friends excitedly about a classmate with a freakish strength.

It was especially hard when I was training with the other trainees but I told myself you wouldn’t be proud of me if I wasn’t doing my best and forced myself to dance.

On Monday, their disappearance was announced but nobody could find anything. Not a single trace. The secret was safe with me.

They also announced your attack but they didn’t connect the two events together, assuming you were also a victim. The attacks in this Korea were common anyways. Bullying was so widespread you could say it was part of our culture.

After a week. you were still asleep. The doctor concluded that they must have stomped your head too for you to be concussed that badly. They damaged the nerves.

Unfortunately, I knew only after I killed them. If I knew I would have done the same to them so they could feel the pain you felt but I guess cutting their limbs counts as nerve damage as well.

I was getting extremely impatient waiting for your awakening. The doctor couldn’t help me but it wasn’t their fault. I’ve only realized now how much I relied on you and those days without you were as sad as Halloween without candies.

When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if the Sun rose already or if it was still sunrise, it was timid, and the light cast a somber hue in the room. It was gray and pale. The soundscape was eerily quiet, the usual chirping birds seemed to have disappeared, as if even nature was mourning alongside me.

Walking through the corridors of the school, I felt like a solitary figure amidst a sea of faces. Conversations echoed around me, yet they seemed distant. The classrooms, usually alive with energy, felt suffocatingly silent.

I couldn’t help but notice how happy the other students went on with their days, completely ignoring what happened to you. Worst of all, some students even mocked you, saying you were a loser and you deserved it. My bloodthirst was beyond the roof. I had to hold myself back a lot not to commit other killings, reminding myself that I could have raised a case of a serial killer if I wasn’t careful enough.

I thought I had been sneaky enough not to raise any suspicion but I didn’t know the only person to find out would have been you.

I was in an alley near the hospital when I met one of those mean girls. They were badmouthing you and I had to make sure they wouldn’t do it again. I didn’t kill them, you don’t have to worry about that. I merely sent a message, a little punishment. I got one nail for each insult they said toward you. Poor them, they won’t have nails for months—I hope it hurts.

They ran away but when I turned around, I saw you. You were looking at me so horrified and disgusted.

“I had my suspicions, Chae…” you said. “The coincidence was too perfect. I woke up and saw the news, I knew it was you. And now, I’m sure.”

“You’re mistaken, dear,” I tried to say foolishly.

“Chae, I saw everything.” Your face morphed into an extreme melancholy, of disappointment and sadness. My face instead contorted into a horrified frown. You… my best and only friend, my love. You discovered my worse secret—I knew what the consequences were and I knew what the risks were.

“I mean, what are you even doing here? Weren’t you still sleeping?”

“I woke up this morning—I got discharged—and the doctor let me take a walk… and then I saw you.”

“Do you know what I did all of this, darling?” I asked, my nerves were so tense and my blood was pumping like crazy. I was getting more and more scared. There was a thread inside me that was being pulled and pulled…

“W-what is it?” you asked with hesitation.

“It’s because… I… I love you.”

I saw the shock on your face but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I did it. I snapped. You found out and there was no turning back. You didn’t have a choice either.

“W-what? What are you saying?”

“Darling, don’t you get it? I love you so so so so so much. I love you so much—to the point I killed for you. Yes, I did kill them. I murdered them. I slaughtered them. I made them suffer, love, the way they made you suffer… Please! Please understand—I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Chae, you’re scaring me. Stop…”

“Oh, don’t be scared, my love. I would never harm you or kill you… I would only cherish you—in fact, I did all of this to protect you from those bastards! I love you with all of my heart.”

That fire inside of me took over again and this time I was already glued to you, my knee under your thigh, pinning you to the wall, a hand on your cheek and one near your waist. You couldn’t move at all, I wouldn’t let you. I was finally this close to you… your skin was so smooth and soft—just like you, my precious baby.

Maybe I was smiling a bit too much. You’d describe to me later that I looked psychotic, yes, I was crazy.

You didn’t know how to react. I admit, you were so cute—so vulnerable and fragile, just at my mercy. Yet, you dared to take and push my hand away from your face.

“Chae, I’m sorry,” you said and it almost broke my heart, “but I just… I-I- I don’t know…” you said.

“What aren’t you sure about? Is it my love? Is it not clear enough?” I asked. “I’ll do anything for you, just ask me.”

“Please stay away from me,” you replied, “for a while.”

“What are you saying, darling?”

“Chae… you’re my best friend and I understand why you did all of that. I do. But I need to think about it. Don’t worry, I won’t say this to anyone, no one at all, but I need to stay alone for a bit,” you pleaded, “I just recovered too.”

“Okay, fine,” I agreed. You were right. It was a bit too much for you, especially after you just woke up from that concrete hospital bed. Also, I knew I could trust you. You never betrayed me so that did not scare me.

You slowly backed away and left me, alone in the alley.

I don’t know why but I started laughing hysterically.

I thought I messed up a lot. That isn’t the way your lover should look at you, right? Terrified and pleading on the verge of tears. You should have looked at me lovingly. I was so scared you’d leave me and I couldn’t let you do that. I needed you too much.

But then you left me waiting for almost a month. I respected your choice and didn’t contact you at all but it’s been too long. I figured that knowing I killed tormented you so I didn’t touch anyone else but rather I kept it to simply threatening them verbally and that seemed to work.

You have to understand I couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at your pictures every night wasn’t enough. Listening to your voice from the vocal messages wasn’t enough. Smelling the shirts I stole from you wasn’t enough, and the smell was fading away. My imagination wasn’t enough, especially when I knew I could have you and I was just waiting for the right moment.

Then the right moment came. I sent you a message just to let you know, you couldn’t say no. I went right to your house, which I came over to many times already, and even your mother knew me. She let me inside with a smile, she was so kind. I knew where you got that virtue from.

I heard you running frantically around your room. You must have been dressing up, so I waited until you were done, knocked, and opened the door. Your room smelled just like I remembered it, it was so good, it was just you.

“It’s been a while, Chae,” you said, clearly nervous. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing terrible, honey,” I answered honestly and you gulped. “You know, I’ve been good to you. I waited and did nothing else. I did not kill or hurt anyone. I let you have your space, then why did you disappear for an entire month?”

“I kept thinking and reflecting on what happened…”

“For a month?” I was furious. “Did you try to make me forget you? Did you try to forget me?”

“It’s that… It has been a tough month,” you said. “My best friend murdered 6 people, or more… How could I go back to what we were before? You killed… humans.”

“So? They didn’t deserve to live anyways. I did it for you.”

“No, Chae—”

“They beat you up so badly you couldn’t even walk!” I snapped. “They badmouthed you, they laughed at you and… why are you defending them?!”

“Yes, but you took their lives.”

“They were going to take your life too! Don’t you get it?”

“Chae, please—”

“No! Shut up! I can’t take this anymore! I can’t forgive them. They’re always making fun of you, beating you up, torturing you—just because you’re my friend! But you keep shoving it away and get hurt for me… I- I…”

I hugged you. I had to hold onto something and you were the only one that could have helped me stand up. All those years… I was so pent up, I was so tired of it. I know you told me many times to let it be but I can’t. Sorry, I just can’t help it. I can’t let anyone walk away after they hurt you, even if it’s something as little as pinching you, because you mean too much to me.

“Darling, I love you!” I sobbed and pleaded onto your chest, bathed by my tears, “I missed you so much. If I don’t see you even for a day, it starts to hurt, you know? I’ll do anything to stay with you, anything! Just tell me! I want to see you every day, I can’t let you leave like this…”

“If it’s like this,” you started, “we can make a deal.”

“A-a deal? Really?”

“Yes, a deal. You can see me how much you want but absolutely no killing. No physical assault and no insults to anyone.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, you just have to restrain yourself.”

“Very well. Then, I promise, I will never kill again, I swear. Does that mean I can see you every day?” I asked. My tears finally stopped pouring out, the hiccup was still there, but I could focus and talk to you properly now. I took a deep breath and spoke, “Then you have to be my boyfriend from now on.”

“What did you just say?” you asked with confusion.

“You can’t say no. You are my boyfriend now. You know already, I told you so many times. I love you with all of myself.”

I knew you liked me a little already. I wasn’t sure if it was as strong as my love for you was, although I doubt it can, I knew you were interested in me. No one would stick with me for that long and no one would defend me from all those bullies. I knew you loved me, of course you did, you always took care of me since our first day and I couldn’t help but fall for you too.

I tried my best to change my appearance to suit your ideal type more. I dressed better, I dieted, I worked out, and I practiced so much that I wouldn’t disappoint you.

“Chae, are you sure? I’m just a regular guy and you’re an idol…”

“Don’t lie to yourself, honey. I wouldn’t give myself to just anyone. You never laughed about me, you believed in me when nobody else did, and you infected me with your kindness and humanity. You’re the best man I can ask for.”

“Thank you…”

“You’ll be my boyfriend and I’ll be your girlfriend, okay? Do you accept?”

“Uhm…”

“Do you accept?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Ma’am?” I laughed. “Don’t tell me you have some weird fetish going on… It’s okay. Just tell me, I won’t mind, hehe.”

Part 5

You have been very strict with me. The first thing you did was to establish a set of rules and all the punishment that would have resulted in breaking them. You’ve been very clear in defining them and made sure I understood you were very serious about it and would absolutely punish me if I dared to not respect them. They were something along the line of:

NO KILLING. The punishment is an instant break-up.

NO BODY HARM to anyone. The punishment is no contact for two weeks.

NO KIDNAPPING/STALKING/THREATENING other people. The punishment is no skin touching for a week.

RESPECT YOU. We’re together in this relationship and I have to listen to you.

TRUST YOU. You'll leave me if I don’t trust you when you tell me you aren’t cheating.

I accepted them and we started dating. Our relationship was as good as it was before but this time I got to be as clingy as I wanted, hugging you as much as I wanted, holding your hand wherever we went, and most of all you gave me a lot of head pats. You always gave me head pats to congratulate me when I did well in school or had a good performance.

It was difficult to respect those rules and you showed me how convinced you were of them when I broke the hand of a guy who shoved you against the lockers. You really ghosted me for two weeks without saying anything. When they ended I couldn’t help but jump on you and I promised to be more careful. Since then, I didn’t break any other rules and you showed me your love in so many ways, I lost count of them.

We learned a lot about each other and helped each other all the time. You helped me be more confident with my skills and get angry (but you told me I was cute when I got mad). You were always a bit discouraged with your work, giving up easily, and I made sure you knew how great you were. Just like me, school has really made you more insecure about yourself, but when we were together, we achieved a lot more.

Recently I discovered a hidden diary you used to keep under your bed, between the mattress and the frame. The last thing you wrote was months ago, way before the incident, and it was you rambling about me. ABOUT ME! And it was so adorable. “I have the biggest crush on my friend!” You wrote on the last page.

I stared at the words in a daze, it was like the words were screaming in my face. I was used to only obsessing over you and knowing you were going through the same thing warmed my heart.

You know, I’ve never believed in good endings, but with you, I think I finally found one where we are the protagonists. Our story is not like a fairy tale, it’s far from perfect, I am not a princess, nor could ever be one. However, you made me feel like one and I’m more than sure you’re my prince.

Sorry if I am always so obsessive and so imperfect, I just can’t help it.

THE END

Written, 7 June - 27 June 2023

#yandere #yanderekpop #yanderekpopgg #kpop #lesserafim #chaewon #chaewon yandere #angst

[sanakimohara]

“Pretty When You Cry” B.C.

“Although she is alone…she knows the truth.” + “If you think I’m pretty lay your hands on me…”

Summary: Chan as a yandere. Borderline stalking type of yandere to be exact.

WARNING: MDNI, cursing, smut obviously, mentions of kidnapping, and cnc…among other things.

A/N: this was a request and it caught my interest so I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did while thinking/writing about it.

—————————————————————

A knife could slice right through the thick tension between you and Chan right now.

Not because his eyes were glaring daggers straight into your Bambi like stare or that you were purposely keeping your distance from him by sticking close to the nearest exit. No, the reason was much more complicated.

You. More specifically, you assuming Chan wouldn’t be jealous or possessive of you.

Now, he had you all alone to ‘talk’ but you knew that just meant your night was about to riddled with consequences from him. So, planted yourself near the door -a useless precaution you took to feel safer.

Little did you know, he’d locked it the moment you wandered into his room. You came to him under the impression he just wanted to show you something he’d been working on and was only slightly aware of his true intentions.

Now, you wished more than ever that you’d paid more attention to your small suspicions, but it was too late for you to leave without having to go through him. Chan made sure of that by pocketing his hotel room key card.

“Chan, please..” you started to reason with him, voice trembling slightly as you spoke, and your body involuntarily pressing against the locked door as he stood up abruptly. His face was unnervingly expressionless but his eyes were piercing, swirling with all the intensity of emotions you’d become familiar with.

Jealousy, lust, and possessiveness. Anger was present too -steadily growing the longer he replayed the image of you flirting with some random staff member during their concert.

“Let me ask you something,” Chan was now inches from you, his entire body dwarfing yours in comparison, and his voice shallow with simmering rage. He really was terrifying when upset and with envy added into the mix he was downright evil sometimes.

Shamefully, it turned you on more than anything else. Being afraid of him, what he might do you, and how he’d take his anger out on you. It was so wrong for you to be wet already, merely in Chan’s presence, and forced to stay there until he decided to let you go.

Which was never, in his opinion.

“Do you like pissing me off?,” he nearly growls the question and your tummy does several slips hearing the rasp carry through to his accent. “N-no, I don’t Chan-“ you answer him carefully, face heating up as your fear amps up to new heights when he grabs your jaw with one hand and places the other above your head to lean forward on. “Yes, you fucking do. Why else would you go around whoring yourself out to other men then?” Chan taunts you with a faux smile, raising his brows slightly to add to his condescending tone, and you huff softly in return.

“Channie, I promise we were just-“ you’re cut off again as his hand on your face falls to your throat, gripping it tight until you have to hiss in a breath, and cling to his wrist with both of your small hands. Chan holds you there, counting the seconds until he sees tears prick your lidded eyes, and only then does he loosen his hold on you.

“I don’t care what you were doing, little one. This is the last time you’ll ever try me, understood?” You could barely hear him over your heart drumming your ears from being choked so ruthlessly seconds ago, and when you don’t answer him immediately Chan takes that as a sign of defiance on your end.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, dark eyes filling with a new emotion as he watched you struggle to breathe with his hand still putting pressure on your throat. You already looked so broken in for him, probably bound to drop to your knees if he let you go, and your pathetic attempts to wriggle out of his grasp never failed to amuse him.

Chan would never let you go, you knew that, but still tried with all your might to fight him off -even if you’d been craving his affection the whole time.

It was part of your dynamic. Chan could drag you through hell and back, you’d insist on running away, but ultimately fail and let him do whatever he wanted to you.

“I think you need a little reminder of who you belong to,” Chan hums lowly, passing his thumb over the fullness of your bottom lip before slowly pushing it into your warm mouth. “Suck,” he commands, pressing down on your tongue slightly as you start to do exactly that. Quiet whimpers vibrate through your throat as you lick and suck on his thumb, doe eyes sparkling with need as he watched you obey his every word.

You could feel his hardened cock through his jeans, the length of it pressed right against your pelvis and lower stomach, and you were tempted to reach down and palm him just for the hell of it. Unfortunately, he’d quickly pull your hand away, reminding you that “you’re not allowed to touch daddy until I say you can…”

You hated that rule but knew the consequences for breaking it would only leave you edged to the brink of delirium and his cum plowed deep into your sore womb.

Chan was certainly not the man to tease -unless you were prepared to endure the corresponding punishment.

So, you took pleasure in sucking on his fingers, imagining it was cock instead, and continuously drooling on his digits until he removed them. You coughed softly as he did, chest heaving, and eyes still watering as they refocused on his face.

Chan couldn’t help but chuckle at your disoriented expression, always so neat and sweet in public, but behind closed doors and in his view you just looked like a love sick pup waiting to be used.

You half expected him to push you down to your knees, already accepting your fate of him using your throat as his personal cock sleeve, but Chan had other ideas.

He closed the distance between you two, ducking his head to capture your spit slick lips with his plump ones. You moaned as he pushed his tongue past yours, taking his time to explore your mouth, and swallowing the short and desperate noises you let out in between each kiss.

Your hold on his veiny wrist and arm traced up to his neck, gently massaging the muscle there before your fingers tangled through the hair at the back of his head. Chan grunted into your mouth when lightly pulled on his dark hair, “I should’ve fucked you in front of him,” he mumbles harshly against your lips, hands gripping your hips to turn you around in one quick motion.

A small yelp flies from your chest as your frontside meets the cold surface, Chan’s body weighing down on yours as his hands slid from your waist to the closure of your black high waisted shorts. He started to undo the tedious buttons and zipper while tracing his lips down the right side your neck. You whined as he littered mark after mark on your unblemished skin, his hands now hooked on the sides of your shorts to pull them off, and his heavy breaths causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“You would’ve liked that, yeah? Daddy fucking you in front of everyone so they’ll never forget who you belong to?” His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, tone bordering on desperation as you whined and reached a hand up to caress one side of his face. “Yes,” you moan loudly, finally shedding your usual timid nature to fully enjoy the moment, and Chan smirked against skin hearing your delicate voice reach a new octave.

“You’re such a slut, and you’re all mine too,” he muses, slipping one hand right between your shaking thighs, and delving past the fabric of your underwear to cup your mound. “Ahm…stop! No..!” You half moan and half whimper as he takes in the soaking expanse of your cunt.

It was embarrassing. You were definitely more than eager to have him touch you and now he knew it.

Chan laughed dryly at your pathetic attempt to refuse him, fingers sliding up and down your folds to collect as much of your cum as possible before swirling those same fingers around your clit. “You want me to stop? That’s not what your body wants, now is it, baby?” He didn’t need you to answer, your broken cries were enough for him, and the dazed look in your eyes only intensified as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“…s-stop p-please….ill be good…just-just let me go…” you try again to win your freedom, voice cracking as a few tears began to trickle down your flushed cheeks. His attention to your clit had migrated to your entrance, prodding it open with two thick fingers before he shoved them into you as deep as possible. “Fuck ..,” Chan inhaled sharply from how tight your cunt was, already clenching around his fingers like you’d break if he put anymore in.

He might’ve came right then and there if he hadn’t already built his stamina up but his cock still twitched just from the constant pulsing of your wet core.

“Daddy, s’ too much....” you weakly called for his attention, panting as he curled, pumped, and twirled his fingers inside you. He reached every spot that made you see stars and even had you circling your hips to the pace of his hand. “I don’t care,” Chan responded gruffly, back to marking your neck and shoulder as he sped the pace of his fingers up.

You choked on a string of moans, face contrasting into a mindless picture of pleasure as he abused your cunt. “Nooo.. ah!” You tried your best to keep protesting, yet he only added to your torture by slowly circling his thumb on your clit . Now, you were at a loss for words, head emptying of any thoughts besides cumming on his hand.

You were incredibly close to the edge and Chan noticed from just one look at your beautifully lost and delirious stare. Your head lulled back onto his shoulder, eyes rolling slightly as he brought you to your climax with precise pumps into your dripping cunt. “Cumming…” you whimper into the crook of his neck, letting the smell of his cologne fill your head as the knot in your tummy snapped. He groaned as you gushed on his hand, making a mess in your lacey underwear as well, and watched you rock your hips to ride your high out.

Chan smiled at the sight, in love with how messy and careless you could be when he touched you. “You’re gonna cum like this on my cock next, princess…” he announced it like a command and all you could muster was a shaky exhale followed with a lazy smile as you felt him drag his fingers out of your sticky entrance.

“You’ll never forget what it means to be owned by me again, baby girl..”

—————————————————————

Should I make a PT2? I kind of already did hehehe….we will see how PT1 goes first, yeah? 🖤

BONUS CONTENT +

(Sorry not sorry for this…🖤)

#skz #stray kids #skz smut #bang chan #bang chris #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #chan skz #christopher bang #chan x reader #chan x you #chan x y/n #chan x female reader #SoundCloud #Spotify

[millerscoffee]

there's no such thing as good grief

1k | joel miller x reader

rating: G, i guess

warning: grief, parental loss, mentions of sarah and ellie, halloween, porch swinging, hand holding, soft!joel, joel is a guardian angel tbh. no use of y/n

A/N: this is a little self indulgent, i suppose. but i needed to write, i haven't written in, what, a month? and i wanted to oil the wheel. it's probably not the best, i kinda halfway proofread it, but that's okay. who better to navigate grief with than joel "the grief ain't good™️" miller? thanks for being cool about it.

Leaves of trees change colour before they shrivel and descend to the ground.

That’s just how life works.

That’s how it’s supposed to happen. And it was in Jackson.

It surprised you, even still, that in the depths of despair within humanity, traditions were so closely held to the chests of those still alive and willing to stoke its embers.

It’s dusk.  The town’s children in makeshift costumes or ones from long ago in tattered material.  You think about her, your mother.  Halloween was never her particular favourite, but she had a soft spot for a sweet treat.  You buried her on this day.  Sometimes it’s easier than others.  Today it’s hard.

You’re on your porch, and your light is on.  The town made different types of toys for the kids of the community, you laid yours out on the porch.

For the most part, you’re okay.  It’s been long enough now that your mother’s death wasn’t always the first thing you thought of every year.  But it’s in the things that catch you off guard.  A child giggling with her mother over a toy that looked silly.

It’s simple.  It’s sweet.  It makes you nauseous.

You’re swaying in your porch swing, staring off into the distance when you hear the heavy boots of someone familiar.  It shows up before his voice.

“Y’alright?”

If you weren’t so numb, you’d be startled.  Instead, your eyes shift up to the man who you know well enough by now to come up on your porch without permission.

You could nod.  You could pretend you are okay and have him pull it out of you until the truth pours freely from your mouth, but what’s the point?  Why hide it?  There had been so much of your life that was dappled in pretending to be okay, whether it was self-preservation, or sheer obstinacy to admit it.

You didn’t have it in you.

Instead, you pat the spot next to you with a shrug.

“Been better.”

Joel liked that you were honest.  Not that it mattered, not that he was here to praise you for exposing vulnerable parts of yourself to him.  At least not like this.  It was far removed from his intentions.  He knew you had someone in your life that you had to bury, and he understood what that meant.

Grief lain with you both as he took place beside you.

His warmth, overcoming, radiating into your bones.

Swallowing on the knots in your throat, you nudge your knee against his and it’s natural.

You don’t know how it became so fucking natural.

You’d kept your distance from each other for so long.  It seemed appropriate.  No real reason to encounter each other, but one day you noticed Joel rubbing his chest.  A telltale sign that you knew well.  After that, you’d become inseparable to some extent, though never quite tiptoeing any major lines.  He had your back, and you had his.  It felt nice to be around someone so protective.  And, god, did he feel that way with you.

As if life itself had been kickstarted into his system from years of feeling like a zombie.

All the same, you didn’t have to explain yourself to him to know what you mean.

“Yeah,” Joel pauses, his heel taking over the rocking motion, back and forth on the seat you share. “Hard for me, too.  Y’need anything?”

Your chin turns to gaze at him.  It was hard for him, too.  You imagined how difficult it was to see children with their dad.  At least he had Ellie, but even she needed her space from all this.

You focus on his side profile, the scar that remains as a reminder to the life he had before this horrible reality.

Then again, the horrible reality happened when he held Sarah’s dying body in his arms.

It sends a chill through you, your fingers instinctively running into the bear paw that was his hand.  Rough and calloused, yet so open and willing to take yours.

Dichotomous.

As some sort of clairvoyant, he welcomes you, knowing the conversation could be said without words.

“Nuh uh.”

Just this, you want to say.

The gravel catches your throat now, but tears don’t tempt as readily as they used to.  Call it being hardened, call it time.  Grief wasn’t linear, but this year had a particular sting.

That’s about the time a child and her mother come up to trick or treat for one of the toys you’ve made.  And although a smile appears on your face, Joel can see the sadness at the corners of your eyes.  He waits to speak until they leave.

“Opposite ends of the same coin, I guess.”

You puff out an unamused laugh, gaze cast at your lap.

“Something like that,” chewing the corner of your cheek, he squeezes your fingers when you look up at him.  “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”

Joel stops the porch swing, his eyes soft but dark – as if he’s going over what he’s had to replay in his head for so many years.

“What do you think?”  He echoes quietly, enough to cause you to turn and face him.

“I think… I’m glad you stopped by.  I think it’s very thoughtful of you to check on me.”

“Alright, she’s gone soft,” a small smile piles at the corner of his face, and you mirror it.  Hard not to.  A tear falls at both of your ability to find a crack of light.

“Don’t get used to it.”

Joel exhales in amusement, rocking the two of you again.  Eyes close for a minute against the crisp air of autumn.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s quiet for a while after that.  Your head rests on his shoulder.  His scent brings you comfort.  You don’t hardly realise all the kids and their parents as they make it home.

“...Joel?”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“Will you let me thank you?”

Joel turns his head, burying his nose in your hair.

“This is enough,” squeezing your fingers, he presses a tentative kiss to your temple.  One without a scar, but a temple with trouble behind it, nonetheless.  “It’s more than enough.”

How could you argue with that?

taglist, comment to be added: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @scarletthefierce @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @poodlebae @its-nebuleuse @harrieandharassed @msmorningstaarr

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #soft!joel #soft!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us hbo #joel the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #by bee

[milkzoro]

zoro doesn’t know how to show emotion & he’s pretty mean to you without even realizing :(

๑๑๑ (gn!reader x roronoa zoro) ๑๑๑

- you loved being around him ever since joining the crew, he seemed so stable and you craved it.

- you always offered to join him with his daily routines. gathering dinner supplies, ship chores, sometimes even training.

- it was never a solid ‘yes’ answer but took it as an invitation anyways.

- it seemed like you talked your ass off whenever you were with him and it made you insecure.

- you wished he would give you something, say anything. something other than npc responses.

- but being around him made you so happy,,, even if it sometimes resulted with you thinking too much about your past interactions.

- ‘i wish he would voice his mind.’ or ‘maybe i’m annoying him.’

- zoro seemed as if he couldn’t care less when it came to you but you never learn.

- coming up to him on a regular day seemed like the best option, everyone was at peace just spending time by on their own.

- zoro was napping in the warm summer sun, his golden skin so radiant… sighhhh

- a weird feeling brewed in your stomach as you mustered up the courage to wake him.

- “zorooo.” you softly rubbed his arm, from his bicep to his forearm.

- he groaned. “…can’t you see i’m busy y/n…”

- that weird feeling you had was validated.. he couldn’t see your face, he was rolled over on his side as he laid still, but your eyes were glistening.

- how could such simple words effect you.

- he was clearly sleeping, why even try? you walked away without another word, warm tears started to fall.

- zoro didn’t wake, or even notice what had happened. but robin witnessed it all. she’s been taking notes on how you’ve been acting these past few weeks.

- she didn’t wake him up, but waited til he had risen on his own.

- “swordsman? don’t you realize how you’ve been talking to y/n? it seems like they admire you, or maybe your presence. despite you’re petulant actions towards them.”

- zoro was confused at the mention of your name, he thought everything was fine.

- “i think they’re hurt.”

- he didn’t know what the issue was but he eventually made his way to your door. ‘hurt?? wdym they’re hurt?’

- he knocked twice before entering. “hey, robin said you were hurt. everything okay?” he felt something was off, he’s not used to seeing you like this.

- “m fine zoro, you can go back to sleep.” you were in your bed while you fiddled with your fingers, picking at your rough cuticles.

- he was even more confused now. he thought you liked to be around him and now your pushing him away?

- he had to think of the right words to say, he was not familiar with this feeling.

- zoro entered deeper in your room, letting himself in. “just wanna make sure-“

- “yeah.” the air was dense in your room. “you can leave now.”

- he absolutely did not like this. your short words were harsh. ohhhhh.

- he finally understood what robin had meant. he never realized it before but now that you’re away if feels as if somethings missing. robin knew it would play out this way if he never showed you any reciprocated efforts.

-zoro didn’t leave, he kept a soft gaze on you. he didn’t speak either.

- you didn’t want to say anything either but that’s the just type of person you were. always needing to voice your thoughts.

- it was hard but the words just spilled from your mouth. “i just wish i knew how you felt, what’s going on in the thick head of yours.” you felt more tears start to fall.

- “it’s like you’re numb to all sorts of feeling, to me you seem so put together and secure, i love being with you but i can’t seem to learn.”

- “it shouldn’t even matter cuz your just my crewmate but it really does hurt me.” … “i feel like we’re similar in a lot of ways but i’m relizing now that i should just back off.”

- your words stung. ‘just a crewmate?’ he knew he would lose any sort of connection he had with you if he didn’t act now.

- you being around made him happy, he would miss you.. if you weren’t there to accompany him with his stuff, who would? he’s relizing that he is killing off his relationships. he needed you but he didn’t know how to say it.

- “wait no.” he stated.

- your brow was raised ushering him to keep talking.

- he avoided eye contact trying to come up with the proper words, he could see how he’s made you feel. his face burned hot, he was mad at himself.

- “yn.. i’m so sorry.. i- i want you to keep bothering me…”

- …

- “i’m realizing now what i’m doing to you, it’s not fair. i know i’m not the best with expressing my emotions but please let me try to be better.”

- you were stunned, he came to you. and this time it was him showing you some sort of feeling. your mouth fell seeing him try.

- “y/n, i know i never say this but i really, really appreciate you. you always coming to me with things, even if it’s the smallest thing ever. i’m taking it for granted. i know it’s gonna take time but please be patient with me, i want to prove myself. i need you.”

- his sudden confession sent spears through your heart. ‘was he lying?’

- “i- i don’t know what to say zoro. i think i need space.” you didn’t want to but feeling like this pained your soul, you cared for him so much and if you got hurt by him again, you wouldn’t know what to do. it’s not like you could just ignore him, you lived together.

- “please.” he took your hands in his, he thought maybe he could show you how he felt. touch was his love language.

- after talking with robin, she explained to him that maybe your love language was words of affirmation, or quality time.

- of course he didn’t know what that meant so he had to do some research.

- words of affirmation,,,, he was gonna have to work on that, but he would do anything to keep you coming around.

- quality time he also enjoyed, but he needed to incorporate some positive energy towards you to make it even worth trying. he has a lot of work ahead of him.

- but he really needed you. you made him feel stable.

- how can he fix this.

๑๑๑

i luv zoro with all my heart <\3

(maybee pt. 2?? i wanna make this a fucking fic 🙈)

#roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro headcanons #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 8

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Din likes taking orders from pretty girls

Author’s Note: I am a SLUT for romance and longing touches. Click here to see the inspo for her dress and the inspo for her circlet

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Dress

In the following weeks on Sorgan, Din and her had fallen into a comfortable routine. He picked up work at the common house, typically small things to keep him busy. If he couldn’t find work, he resumed training with the villagers who were still interested in being able to defend themselves. 

Today, she trailed behind him, chatting his ear off about wanting to defend herself. Din didn’t think it was necessarily a bad idea, but he didn’t want to embarrass her if she wasn’t great at first. 

“Teach me to shoot,” she ordered, standing with her hands on her hips. She had taken to wearing the clothes of the village, though today she wore her travel set and holster once more. “Or are you afraid you’ll hurt my delicate sensibilities?”  

The villagers looked between the two, some of them clearly trying to hold back their laughter. However, after giving them a pointed look, they dispersed almost immediately and went on their way. Din narrowed his eyes under the helmet.

“I won’t go easy on you.”

“I would expect nothing less from a Mandalorian.”

The two locked eyes, but she refused to back down as an innocent smile spread over her face. Princess or not, she was defiant and determined to get what she wanted from him. He stepped towards the crate of weapons, picking up a lightweight blaster and looked it over. For a moment, he considered what it meant to present the gun to her –though she ruined the thought by plucking it out of his hands with far too much confidence.

“You’re going to hurt someone if you keep acting up,” he warned, turning to face her.

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never used a blaster before,” she countered, her smile turning into a sly grin.

“Why do I need to teach you to shoot then, princess?” 

It had taken about two weeks for him to realize that the title only made her stop talking because she liked when he said it. And when Din finally realized the effect it had on her, he certainly started to drop it in conversation more often. Truthfully, he didn’t know why she liked it when he called her by her title –usually, it was when he was feeling more snarky than usual that he used it –but he also didn’t care. 

He liked the way she looked at him when he said it. How she would lick her bottom lip just barely and look away for a moment, flustered. Then when she would turn back to him, the corner of her lip caught between her teeth to keep herself from reacting further.

He loved it.

“Because,” she explained simply, looking over the weapon in her hands. “Just because I’ve used one before does not mean I know how to use it correctly.”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes at him, mocking offense as she stepped in front of him. “Sometimes I think you like riling me up, Mando.”

“It’s easy.”

“Keep it up,” she warned, though she had returned her gaze to the blaster to look over the safety and the trigger. “And you’ll learn that two can play at that game.”

Instead of responding, Din took the blaster from her hands and held it out in front of him. Their flirting took a step back as he began to explain the different pieces of the weapon to her, taking his time to ensure she understood. It was moments like this –where they could be flirting or teasing or whatever seconds before only for her to listen intently to his directions the next –that he knew she was something else. All she wanted was to understand, and ask questions.

He loved that too.

When he held the weapon back out to her, she took it carefully. However, his hand didn’t move from the weapon, instead moving to cover hers as he held it up.

“Don’t put your finger on the trigger yet,” he explained, standing beside her with his hand hovering at her elbow. “You need to fix your stance before you do anything.”

“How do I –,”

But Din was kneeling beside her already, spreading her legs apart carefully. His hand pressed against the back of her knee, bending it just slightly, before he pulled one foot back some. He stood slowly, one hand trailing up her thigh over her hip, then up to her elbow. She glanced over her shoulder at him as he positioned himself behind her, one hand on her elbow and the other on her weapon again. 

He leaned in close, guiding her aim towards the target. “The more you practice, the better you’ll get at aiming without my help. Which will make it easier to draw your weapon in the moment.” He pushed her finger back into the trigger position, then released his grip on her. “Fire.”

She pulled the trigger, just barely missing the target. Her shoulders sagged, disappointed in herself, as she lowered her weapon. But Din rested his hand on the small of her back. 

“Not bad for a first lesson,” he reassured, though he took the gun from her. “You need to get better at your stance and your aim will get better.”

“I think I was distracted,” she admitted, turning to look up at him. That sly grin returned. 

“You’ll have to learn to ignore distractions,” he pointed out, stepping away from her to set the blaster back in the crate. “Or you’ll get killed.”

He could feel her stare on his back, and when he turned back around, her arms were crossed over her chest. Her grin had turned into a soft smile, and she shook her head. Din raised a brow under his helmet, tilting his head to the side as she made her way over to him. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she promised, standing on her toes and pressing her lips to the cheek of his helmet. “Let’s go find the baby and have lunch.”

Din smiled, offering his hand to her to take. It was a simple motion, one that meant more than outside eyes would understand. But she took it without hesitation, pulling herself close to his side as they returned to the village.

Grogu was with the children, chasing frogs —no doubt trying to eat one. As Din was about to scold him, she laughed and scooped the baby up and rested him on her hip. It was a hell of a sight to behold —her with his son on one hip and her other hand in Din’s. He’d never get used to it, and maybe he shouldn’t, but stars, he adored every second they had together.

Upon returning to their hut, she set Grogu down and pulled out the food that Omera had dropped off for them. They had taken to making their own food most of the time, but when the village came together, Omera would put together meals for the three of them and leave it for them. 

She had asked within the first week of living there to be taught how to prepare meals. Din thought it was genuinely hilarious to see Omera confused by her request. They had settled on not revealing her heritage —not because they didn’t trust the people, but because they didn’t want to cause a stir. It was easier to just tell Omera that she had never prepared krill before. 

Grogu started going through her bag as she set up dinner, pulling out her dress and circlet once again. Din reached out to stop him, but it was too late as the baby held up the fabric of the skirt over his face. 

“That’s not yours,” Din scolded as she walked over with two bowls, setting them on the floor where they had made their makeshift dining space. 

“He’s fine,” she promised, moving to gather the kid’s bowl and sitting on the floor. “At least someone can enjoy it.”

Din sat behind her, pressing his back against hers. She faced the entryway, and Grogu dropped the dress to climb into her lap. This became part of their routine —sitting back to back, with her watching the doorway as Din removed his helmet to eat. It was such a small thing, but it meant so much. Maybe it broke the Creed; but he wasn’t willing to admit it just yet. 

“You can still wear it,” Din suggested, resting his helmet beside him. “There’s no reason you can’t.”

“Besides the fact that I’m waist deep in a swamp every day while hiding from my mother?” She was teasing, and he could hear it in her voice. But he knew she was being serious.

“Well, yes, besides that.” He lifted his tea to his lips, taking a long sip before he shrugged. “You’re not running right now –or in a swamp. If you wanted to wear it, you could.”

“Are you asking me to play dress up for you, Din?”

“Maybe I am.”

She didn’t respond, other than a soft hum as she sipped her own tea. There was a silence that fell between them, one that often did when they were comfortable and didn’t have much else to add. Din couldn’t deny he was curious to see her, in person, dressed up in her royal regalia. The pastel green color of her gown was lovely, and he was certain it would look beautiful on her. While he was very fond of her civilian wear, he wanted to see his princess as a princess –if only once.

As he finished eating, he set his bowl to the side then took a deep breath before he slipped his helmet back on. Her back moved away from his and the floor of the hut creaked as she stood up. Wynta, Omera’s daughter, came to the door and knocked, poking her head in as Din turned around.

“Can we play with Grogu? My mama is setting up a circle to tell stories.” He glanced at Grogu, who was already waddling his way to the front door. So he simply nodded as Wynta lifted him into her arms and hurried off. “Thank you, Mando!”

Left alone now, with the sun setting, he glanced down at her. She was looking at her dress and circlet, left half pulled out of her bag. There was a longing in her eyes, one that suggested she really did want to wear it again.

“Put it on.”

“Hm?”

“I want you to put it on.”

For a moment, she simply stared at the pile of elaborate fabric, as if she was debating if she would. When she didn’t move, Din stepped around her and lifted the gown into his hands. He had removed his gloves to eat, and decided there was no reason to put them back on. The feel of the material of her dress was something he had never felt before, though it wasn’t nearly as soft as it looked. It caught the dying light of the sun, shimmering like the stars themselves. He held it out to her, though he did not push further than that.

She glanced between him and the gown, taking a breath before she motioned to the clothes she wore. Her voice shifted, as if taking on the role of princess once more. “You will have to help me, then, Mandalorian.”

Din lowered the gown, holding it tight in his fist, before he set it back down on her bag. He stepped forward, reaching out to unbuckle the holster on her thigh. While her clothing was not nearly as elaborate as his armor, he took his time to remove the belt that held the holster. When that was pulled off, he set it down neatly on the floor. Then he kneeled in front of her, running his hands down her legs, until he reached her boots and started to unbuckle those. 

They slipped off without a fight, which made it easy to take her socks off next and leave her barefoot in front of him. Her hand tilted his chin up, drawing his gaze up to her for a moment before she motioned for him to stand up. When he stood back up, staring down at her through his visor, she crossed her arms in front of herself –and simply pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Then, as if that was not enough to cause every part of Din to short circuit, she unbuttoned her pants and dropped them next. 

Standing before him, a thin bandeau and underwear between her being completely bare, Din’s mouth ran dry. But she was not done –she unfastened the bandeau and let it drop next, leaving her with nothing but her underwear left. Thankful for his helmet, which hid the fact that he was looking her over as if he was about to devour her entirely, he reached out, instinctively and longingly, and tried to pull her in. But she swatted his hand away. He swallowed hard, looking at her face finally.

“Give me the gown,” she ordered, nodding to the heap of fabric on the floor. 

Din did not hesitate, taking the dress from the floor, and holding it out to her. She looked unimpressed by him, taking the gown from him to slip into with ease. She shimmied it over her hips, pulling the sheer sleeves over her arms. The neckline plunged, deep enough to expose the expanse of her skin. The gold chains that accented the bodice were unhooked, and she stood before him, holding out her wrists.

“Fasten these for me, Din.”

He nodded slowly, taking her wrist in his hands and hooking the chains around her wrists together. Then, he kneeled before her again, fastening the hooks of her bodice. His hands rested on her waist when he finished, staring up at her through his visor with nothing but pure longing. Her hands rested on his shoulders, returning the intensity of his gaze. 

“I need my circlet now.”

Swallowing hard, he nodded once and stood, retrieving the piece. The feel of it in his hands was familiar, and he looked it over for a few seconds before he looked back at her. The gold on it was fading, clearly not actually made of it, but the metal underneath was a familiar cadence. Din hesitated, not sure if he should ruin the moment, before deciding against it. Then he set it on her head softly and stepped back.

She stood with her shoulders back, straight and proper, with what could only be described as a royal smile. 

“Well?” She asked, bringing her hands together in front of her.

“You are…,” but there weren’t words to describe her beauty. None that did her any justice.

“Leaving the galaxy’s best warrior speechless?” She teased, smiling at him playfully. “Do you know what I miss most about my life on Senex, Din?”

“What?”

She stepped forward, bowing far too formally for someone like him, and then held out her hand. “Dancing.”

“Dancing is a dangerous game,” he pointed out, though he took her hand anyway.

“Not anymore dangerous than what we’ve been doing,” she countered, pulling herself close to him. “Do you know how to?”

“No, but if I’m gonna teach you to shoot, I’m sure you can teach me to dance.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @demisexuallover @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dancealongthelightofday @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandolorian x reader #the manadalorian #din djarin imagine #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine

[astroficss]

Abby Anderson x fem!reader (fluff/light angst)

SUMMARY: Abby and reader share a moment together while on the road to track down Ellie.

WARNINGS: kinda angsty. idk tbh lol

NOTES: this was really hard to write ngl LMAO also abby and reader are not officially together. (sorry for any spelling mistakes i was typing this on my phone)

~

You weren’t sure how she was staying so strong. Abby had found her friends and dog dead because of Ellie— and she did break down, throwing up even. But she has yet to show any kind of reaction. it was like she went numb. Her eyes never lied to you, though. You could easily tell she was tired of fighting, tired of chasing Ellie, tired of losing people she loves. Tired of everything.

“i get why you’re doing this. but we can always go back home. you don’t have to go through all this.” you tried offering her a way out of this, you’d be more than happy to take her back home and do it yourself if she asked.

Abby was silent for a minute. “i can’t just go back, its not that simple. you know that.” her tone was a bit harsh but deep down you knew she was only feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. “do you want to go back?” she turns to look at you, searching your eyes for an answer. her heart started to beat faster as if she was afraid of you wanting to leave her because of this.

“no,” you sigh out truthfully, reassuring her with a soft smile. “i just.. i don’t know. i don’t want this to be the thing that takes you down, you know?” it was hard explaining how much she meant to you without stumbling over your words and avoiding eye contact.

abby smiled back at you. it was a real smile, probably the first one you’ve seen since this whole thing started.

“i think it’d take a lot more to take me down.” she teased, nudging you gently with her shoulder. you couldn’t help but blush, any physical closeness with abby made your knees weak. you knew she knew that as well.

“yeah, you’re right.” you laughed softly, looking down at your shoes. you can still feel her eyes on you.

“thank you for coming with me. i couldn’t do it on my own. i hate to admit it but you saved my ass more than i saved yours.”

“i wouldn’t let you do this by yourself, abby. what happened to.. your dad was messed up. i understand why you started this. the least i can do is help you finish this and get us back home safely.”

your words stuck to her heart and lingered in her mind. you’re always so gentle with her, always sweet and so unbelievably understanding of her traumas and reactions because of said trauma. feeling understood and appreciated was all abby wanted, and she has it with you. sometimes she wonders what it’d be like to date you. would it change anything? abby is terrified of ruining the friendship. that’s why she’s never made a move on you. she can’t lose you.

“i adore you.” abby smiled at you again after seeing you act all bashful from her loving gaze. her eyes twinkled and her aura radiated with love. those three words were her way of saying i love you.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #tylertlou

[folkloresthings]

Okay okay okay, last oneeeee!!!

May I please ask for a NORTHANGER ABBEY with my sunshine boy Daniel Ricciardo and the “who did this to you?” trope?? That trope makes me feral and I just know you’d be an amazing person to write it!!

Thanks in advance, definitely thanks again for doing this amazing event, and I hope you’re doing well, darlin’! 🤍🩵🩷

this is heavily inspired by that one normal people so enjoy the pain i’m so sorry

FIX YOU. ❨ daniel ricciardo x reader ❩

✩⡱ warnings: toxic family environment, a violent scene but nothing too graphic i hope 🫶

growing up had not been kind to you. life hadn’t dealt you a fair deal — you were the odd one out. all throughout school, you worked hard and focused on the goals you had set out in your head. this meant sacrificing a social life, being cool, having friends. the weird girl in the corner.

life at home hadn’t been much better. with no father around, your mother turned selfish. she became a workaholic, cold and miserable, uncaring for the feelings of her children. your brother was four years your senior and a mean kind of person. constantly teasing, taunting, dangling a rope in front to wait for you to bite. his torment of you was his entertainment.

when you met daniel, you never knew something could be so good. he was everything you’d never had, everything right about the world. and for the first time in your life, you felt loved. daniel looked at you and only you. he loved you, and only you.

“darling,” he’d whisper to you in the middle of the night. “i’m not a religious person, but sometimes i think god made me for you.”

what had been so horrible in your early life didn’t matter anymore. daniel was goodness and light. he was a new beginning, completely disconnected from any bad memories of your life before. you’d told him a thing or two about your family, but never the full truth. never how bad they were.

maybe it was fear of scaring him off, but not once did you invite him home with you. you’d met his parents, they’d taken you in like one of their own, but he’d never once met your mother or brother. he understood, respecting your boundaries, and when you needed to go home he let you go. you always came back.

once or twice a year you returned back to your home for a few days, just to appease your mother and give her nothing bad to say about you. it just so happened that this weekends race wasn’t far from where you’d grown up, so two birds were knocked with one stone.

daniel was busy with practice, giving you enough time to have dinner with your mother and get back to your boyfriend in time for the new episode of the kardashians. your brother wasn’t supposed to be there. but he was, and drunk. stumbling over his own feet, grumbling insults when he noticed you there.

excusing yourself from his stench, you wandered into the kitchen to clear your plate. he followed behind, stalking you like some prey ready to be pounced one. he taunted and taunted but you blocked it all out. you’d learned to blur his words out, stubbing out the knives before they could pierce your skin.

“give me that,” he snatched at the plate in your hand, grabbing until it smashed against the skin, barely missing slicing your hand. you glare up at him, pushing his hands away. your feet carry you quickly towards your old room, unchanged from when you turned eighteen. your bag was there, your plan to get it and go back to daniel powering you on.

you barely realised he was following you until the door you’d just slammed flies back open, crushing you between it and the wall. your nose took most of the blow, and you feel the blood begin to gush your face in an instant. your brother’s eyes are dark when he sees what he’s done, no regret or sorrow behind them. in fact, he’s proud.

when you found your phone, you don’t know. but daniel’s contact is on the screen and it’s ringing out, him answering in only a few seconds.

“hi baby. how was dinner?” the australian chirps, and your heart squeezes with how happy he sounds. the tissue you had pressed to your nasal is damp with red now.

“somethings happened. can you come get me?” you whisper, locked in the bathroom. amongst all of the commotion, your mother hadn’t come to check on you. she didn’t care.

the keys in daniel’s hand jingle in the background, someone calling him as he hurries out of the drivers briefing. he wastes no time in obliging, hearing the urgency in your voice. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, but something is. that’s all he needs to know.

“i’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

his blood runs cold when you come to answer the door. the blood has dried now, around your lips and chin. your nose is already turning blue. he grasps at your arms as soon as he can, softly moving the tissue out of the way to get a good look at the damage.

“who did this to you?” daniel seethes. never in his life had he felt so angry, not when he’d been crashed into or fucked over by strategists. he’d never felt so scared. behind you, he sees your brother slink in from the shadows. he looks at him, then at you, and he knows. “did he do this?”

you don’t even need to nod, the look you give him says it all.

“go wait in the car,” daniel tells you, not giving you a chance to argue. “go. i’ll be there in a minute.”

he waits until you’re out of site before he pounces on your brother. hands on his chest, pinning him to the wall. danny hovers inches over the other, glare piercing through his cocky demeanour.

“if you ever, ever, touch her again, i swear to god i’ll rip you apart,” daniel’s voice is low, and he’s glad you’re not there to see that side of him. the side that would kill for you. “stay away from her.”

your brother sheepishly nods, hitting the wall with a thump when daniel shoves him back. the driver turns on his heel and leaves the house, for what he swears will be the first and last ever time. you’re waiting in the passenger seat, sniffling as you try desperately to clean yourself up.

daniel slides into the drivers seat, turning the heat on and turning towards you. he feels his heart crack to pieces at the sight of you. he’d sworn to protect you a long time ago, and he hadn’t been there. it had been a feeling of hate he’d never felt for himself before.

“no one will ever hurt you like that again,” daniel swears to you, his voice soft but stern. his hand rests delicate on your cheek, the porcelain of your skin threatening to break under his touch. you sink into his touch, a tear slipping onto his thumb.

but you believe him, amongst all of the blood and ruin. you know he’ll do all he can to keep you from harm from this day on, be it caused by him or another. because he’ll never survive seeing you like this again.

“let’s go home.” daniel kisses your blood stained cheek, starting up the car and taking you away from the worst of the night. little does he know, you’re already home. home is wherever he is.

dolly!! 🧚 i know you sent a few other requests before this and i will get to them but i wanted to write this from the minute it came into my inbox

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k! #🌙 ﹐ drabbles. #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel riccardo x reader

[myluvrrhea]

Hi, can you write damian x reader (likely grumpy x sunshine) about reader being cuddly and all that stuff and shes like afraid to come as clingy. One night she's reading all the comments about her being like that and decided to reduce her affection and damian notices

Heavenly

Pairings - Damian Priest x Fem!Reader

warnings - Reader feeling insecure about herself , Fluff at the end tho! , kinda angsty at the beginning

word count - 0.6k

NOT PROOFREAD

Gif not mine !!!

You and Damian were the complete opposite. While Damian was mostly dark and gloomy , you on the other hand were sunny and energetic. You were the sunshine to his moon. And although you two at first glance may be opposite to each other, you two understood each other like no other man or woman could.

You often found yourself cuddling and kissing Damian very frequently. But Damian never had a problem with the way you showed love , as he often reciprocated it by giving you small gifts , kisses , anything he could do from time to time to show how much you meant to him.

But as time went by , you noticed how Damian could grow distant , and sometimes dismiss your touches. It didn’t affect you that much , I mean he had things ti do. He was a wrestler after all.  It didn’t affect you until now though. While scrolling on TikTok , you found a slideshow of someone expressing how annoyed they were at your touches with damian. Calling you clingy, and over all too much with him. You felt the tears roll down your cheeks as you read the comments. The words you read made you feel like you did need to stop being clingy towards him. And so you did

The following day , you hadn’t been and clingy towards him. Usually you were always hugging and embracing him , but instead you sat quietly as he did what he needed to do. He felt confused about your lack of affection, but thought you might have been tired. After all you had just had a  match against becky lynch.

It had been a week since you and given the affection that you usually do. Damian was confused but decided not to question it , thinking something had happened during the week that you might’ve not wanted to talk about it. Neither the less he was determined to figure out how to get you back to normal. He wanted his girl back.

Damian woke up to the sound of you talking to someone on the phone. He checked the time which read 3:14am. Why would she be up this late? He thought to himself. He walked to where he heard your voice which eventually led him to the bathroom. He went to grab the doorknob , but was confused when he heard the words that came out your mouth.

“Yeah I dont know Rhea I just feel too clingy for him , I mean , the comments and videos show that. Yeah…,” he heard silence until you spoke again.

“I dont know I feel like I might be too much for him— I just dont wanna scare him off thats all,” You replied back to her.

A couple minutes later he heard you say a quick goodbye as you hung up the phone. You opened the doorknob and expected Damian to be sound asleep in the bed but unexpectedly, you found him   On the other side of the door.

“Hey…” you said trying to ease the nervousness. “Calm down he probably heard nothing” you said in your head. But Damians facial expression said otherwise. He wore a frown  as his eyebrows were pushed together. Withought warning , he pulled you into a hug. Damn near suffocating you from how tight he held you. He finally pulled away from you after a long couple of minutes.

“I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much , I love you no matter how clingy you are. It doesn’t matter about what people say because all that matters is how much I love you , and that goes to infinity,” he spoke putting both of his hands onto your face.

“I love you more Damian , I just think im doubting myself too much. But it feels good to know how much you love me,” you spoke with a smile , giggling a bit at the end.

“Now lets head to bed, well talk in the morning,”he spoke to you pulling your hand and leading you to the bed. With one last kiss , you to fell asleep as Damian spooned you.

#damian priest x reader #damian priest #damian priest imagine #damian priest x y/n

[sparklefics]

Is it too much to ask?

Avengers! Bucky& Reader

WC:767

A/N: I don’t normally take naps during the day but today I did and apparently I woke up feeling inspired. This is just an outburst of fluff! 😘

Gif not mine

Warnings: emotional support, Bucky being a friend—we love to see it.

[Masterlist]

You could never find Bucky Barnes intimidating. Regardless of his past, regardless of his physique you couldn’t see him as a threat.

Which is why you were quick to befriend him. No one else on the team managed to bond with him as quickly as you did. At first no one wanted to be his friend, apart from you and Steve, but they quickly got over that when they saw Bucky take a bullet for you while on a mission.

Bucky was a good man. Sure he’d been brainwashed to commit crimes but at his core he was and still is a good man.

After he took that bullet for you he became more talkative, even if it was in private just the two of you but he was talking. He became your friend. He is someone, sometimes the only one, you turn to when you’re feeling blue.

I wish I was special to someone.

Today was one of those days. It was Morgan’s birthday and while everyone was celebrating the little girl’s 7th birthday you sneaked off to the indoor greenhouse. That’s where Bucky found you, because of course he was the only one to notice your absence.

He quietly snuck into the room while you were watering the daisies. “Hey you.” He whispered when he reached your side.

“Hey.”

He could tell something was off, you were being monosyllabic. Bucky took the watering can from your hands and set it aside, then pulled you into his chest for a bear hug.

Neither of you said anything for a while, you just stood there with your face nestled into his warm chest while he rested his chin on top of your head. Occasionally pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You good?” He finally asked, still not letting go of you.

You simply nodded your head.

“Then how come you’re hiding out while everyone is up there having a good time? That’s usually my thing.”

You took a deep breath, “Special days have a special way to remind me that…well, I’m just me. You know?”

“I’m not sure I get it. Tell me more.” He encouraged you by rubbing circles on your back. “You know I won’t judge.”

“Okay. You know I'm happy for Tony and Pepper. They’ve figured it out, how to keep doing what we do and still have a life, a family. And while I know I’m Morgan’s favorite avenger—yes, I know that she loves you but she told me herself I’m her favorite— I still feel…inadequate. Incomplete and sometimes just unhappy, lost and like I just don’t belong… I guess I just wish I was special to someone.”

That hit Bucky like a ton of bricks.

He very much understood now what you meant. Hell, he could relate.

“Baby, you are special to me, to the team.”

He definitely slipped by calling you baby but he needed you to understand that you make a difference in his life. You truly are special to him, in more ways that he can even explain.

You dared to look up at him and found yourself hypnotized by the sincerity in his eyes. “You think I’m special?”

“You are the most special and important person in my life. And I know what it's like to want something…to want someone, to want someone to be your special someone.”

“Uncle Buck? Y/N?” Morgan interrupted the moment, “come on! We’re gonna open presents and have cake!!”

“Well we can’t miss that now can we?” Bucky said and pulled you by the hand and followed Morgan up to the main floor.

“Bucky,” you whispered as you stood by his side on the ride up the elevator. “What did you mean by that?”

His grip on your hand tightened, “Sweetheart, I’m saying you are my special, you have my heart and it’s yours if you want it.” He smiled at you then dropped a kiss to your cheek.

You felt like bursting into tears.

He wasn’t one to express his feelings so freely or openly so you knew he was serious about this. You didn’t get a chance to say anything back because just then the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Bucky let go of your hand and whispered, “you don’t have to say anything…just think about it.”

You followed him out, almost had to jog to keep up with his pace. Once he was within your reach you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers. That stopped him in his tracks.

“There’s nothing to think about. It’s you and I, James. You have my heart too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x f!reader

[ginnyw-potter]

The book that writes written for @hinnymicrofic, January prompt 6: stubborn In an AU where they grow a little closer a little earlier, helping each other work through their nightmares

“I know you’re angry, but will you please come inside at least?” Mr Weasley tried.

Ginny remained curled up, staring out into the garden and didn’t reply.

“Ginny…” he tried again.

She shook her head. “They had no right! And it was not a funny joke.”

“They were completely out of line, and I’ve told them that.” Mr Weasley sighed. “They’re grounded for a very long time. Come inside please.”

“No.”

Mr Weasley let out a frustrated grunt. “You’re as stubborn as your mother!”

Harry stood up. Mr Weasley looked at him.

“I’ll give it a try.”

Mr Weasley smiled politely. “Be my guest.”

Harry stepped outside in the cold and sat down beside her, leaving a good distance between them. He didn’t speak, he simply sat there.

“I have nightmares, all the time.” Her voice quivered. “I will never be able to forget it.”

Harry had watched with dread as she opened the unsuspecting book on the table and it began writing by itself. “I don’t think they meant for you to find it, but they shouldn’t have created it.”

“Do you remember? When you wrote to it?” She looked over at him carefully.

He gave a short nod. “It seemed innocent at first.”

Ginny let out a long sigh. “I won’t sleep for days now, and no one understands but…” She looked over at him. He did, not precisely in the same way, but he understood the terror of it all.

“Hermione is with you,” he offered.

Ginny shook her head. “She sleeps like a log!”

“Can I help? Is there any way…?” he asked her with a frown.

Her feet shuffled and she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “How do you deal with it?”

“I get up and go downstairs, look at the stars and have a glass of water. I know remaining in bed is useless…” He shrugged, it wasn’t much but if it helped. “You can wake me if you like, Ron sleeps like a log too.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you in the middle of the night,” she said softly.

Harry shook his head. “Sometimes I get stuck in a bad dream, wishing someone would come rescue me from it. That could be you.” He offered her a reserved smile.

“Okay.” She smiled a little. “You can wake me too, I definitely could use someone to rescue me from my dreams.”

“That’s a deal then.” He looked towards the Burrow. Mr Weasley was looking through the window, holding a steaming cup of tea. “We should go inside before your dad drags both of us back in.”

She unfolded her arms and sat up a little straighter. “Fine.”

#hinny #hinnymicrofic #fic #microfic #diary

[tojisbbygworl]

The Worst Mistake - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader pt. 1

Summary: Hobie has never been one to shy away from anything. Even if the risk is greater than the reward.

Or; Hobie takes too many shrooms, and all of his fears and doubts about the woman he loves comes rushing all at once and he makes an extremely irrational decision.

Characters: Hobie, Miles

Tags: 18+, Substance Use/Abuse, ANGST, Hurt/No Comfort, Bad Break Up, AU - No Powers, Hobie lives in Brooklyn, Hobie is 21+, Miles is 18+ only cuz it makes sense for the story not weird I promise, Miles is kind of an ass, Hobie and you need a HUG, I forgot he was British, OOC but it’s because of the drugs

author’s note: Okay, this is a plot that I have been wanting to write for months now but didn’t know which fandom I should write it for. I will be pouring all my feelings out into this so hopefully you shed a tear or two and even if u don’t lie and say u did!

Part 2 Part 3

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

It was getting late. The tv was blaring with some random show that the both of them didn’t have to pay attention to. She was sleeping next to him, a scowl on her face. And Hobie had never felt more alone.

The day was going so well at first. The two of them had all day to spend together. He didn’t have a gig or practice, she didn’t have to work or go to class, they made some sandwiches and had a nice picnic by a river. What went wrong?

What? Is he a fucking idiot? He knows exactly what went wrong.

For months now, Hobie’s been getting into heavier drugs than weed. She was never interested, the ‘don’t do drugs’ campaign going to work in her brain whenever he even mentioned anything else. But, she didn’t judge. She understood that shrooms just weren't for her and he never pressured her or pushed. So, he took them.

The first time was nice. They found that he was a lot more clingy than usual. He opened up more. Touched her more, kissed her more. He even giggled a few times that day.

Then he grew a small tolerance. So he started taking more…and more…and each time something was different. Shrooms made him speak his mind a lot. Sometimes too much and inappropriately. He didn’t know how to get what he was saying across in a way that wouldn’t insult her so he just said what was on his mind.

In the middle of the night, after having a quick dinner at the diner near his apartment, he remembered all the times he’s thought about breaking up with her. Usually, when he would have these thoughts, he swallowed them knowing it was just his paranoia. But his mind was scattered. So he told her. And when she started crying he just sat there and stared. To his defense, at least he looked sorry. But he didn’t take it back. And his explanation was half assed.

“Sometimes, I just get scared for our future. But I try to ignore it because I love you so much. And I know you love me.” That’s…not what he meant to say. He’s scared that he is not enough. That he won’t be able to give her the life she deserves. Why can’t he just say that instead of sitting here and watching her wipe her tears?

How they even came back from that night is nothing short of a miracle. But, Hobie was sure that there was no coming back from this.

It wasn’t until too late that he realized that he isn’t the "Tolerance God" that he seems to think he is. He thinks because he’s not throwing up, seeing smells, and hearing colors that he’s doing just fine. Today, he took more grams than he ever had. 7, to be exact. Along with the lemon tekking, it was certainly the strongest dose he ever had or will have taken. And he can feel it.

She fell asleep hours ago when they got home from their beautiful picnic. She hadn’t spoken a word to him when she got in the bed, the only indication he had of how she felt being the sneer she gave him before she pulled the blanket over herself and turned around. She left no room to cuddle, there were two blankets on the bed and she snatched the entirety of one of them. He deserved it.

“You know babe, you need to grow up, okay?”

Why the hell would he say that? Why did he start thinking about all the faults of their relationship at that moment? About how every fight they had was over something stupid, and even though they weren’t often, they were exhausting. She held onto her anger and refused to let go. It’s been something he’s wanted to talk to her about, but why now? And why like this?

She was laughing before he said that, smiling because they were both gushing about how much they appreciated each other and how excited they are for their future together and then he dropped that bomb. And he smiled while he did it. The way her face dropped and her eyes began to water; he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.

He tried saying sorry when they walked in. She didn’t listen. And why would she?

Hobie looks at the back of her head. Then he stared at the ceiling. His heart was beating fast and he started to feel a little sweaty. Taking in some deep breaths, he realizes that his girlfriend giving him the cold shoulder is absolutely not helping his high. He swallows his pride then reaches over to shake her awake.

When she does, she turns to him. She still has that pained and troubled look on her face. He gulps, but can’t stop staring at her. His mouth opens only slightly, and his big brown eyes flicker between hers.

“What is it?” She says quietly, her voice raspy from sleep.

“I just…” he gulps again before taking a part of her blanket and lifting it up, tugging at it slightly. “I wanted to get under the blanket.” His voice is full of vulnerability that he never imagined he’d be capable of.

Unfortunately, she didn’t hear it. “There’s a blanket over there.” She snapped at him.

He looks down at the blanket sitting next to his feet. Then, looking back up at her and pleading with his eyes, he tries again. “I know…but…” Once again, his words are stuck in his throat. He just can’t convey what he was trying to say to her.

‘But I want to be under your blanket. With you. Please?’

He can say that she didn’t give him a chance as she scoffed and tugged her blanket out of his arms and turned back around again, but she was attentively listening before he trailed off. It felt as though the blanket was ripped from his grasp, and he stared in dismay at his hand still reaching out to her. He doesn’t try to wake her up again after that.

His hand falls and he rolls on to his back completely again, staring at the ceiling. Damn. So this was it? Are they really never going to recover from this? There’s no way, right? So why was he feeling so much anxiety? Why was he so terrified?

A tear slips from his eye down the side of his face. Then another. And then another. One by one, salty droplets force themselves out of his eye sockets until he is full on crying. Why is he even crying? He doesn’t know. He just knows that he fucked up and he’s not sure if she’ll forgive him so easily this time.

His brain was working full time filling his head with desolate thoughts about his future with her. He remembers every fight, every mistake, every tear she’s ever shed because of him. Why was she even still with him? He wasn’t a good boyfriend. He never was. Will he ever be? Can he-

“Hobie?”

Unbeknownst to him, his sobbing had woken her up, filling her with worry as soon as she saw his chest shaking. She immediately caressed his face and when she did, as if it was instinct, he turned and embraced her tighter than ever. His crying got louder, his body violently jerking with each sob. She was distraught. This complete and utter dejection was not something she had seen on him before. It was breaking her heart. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he wailed into her shoulder. He couldn’t seem to keep still, to just hold her in his arms. No matter how tightly he wrapped himself around her, she was still to far away. His hands were ever changing and would grab her waist moving across it in an effort to bring her closer to him. “I’m so sorry.”

She relaxed but only a little. “Aw, baby,” she wipes the tears from his face with her thumb. It was contorted in pain. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I’m not upset with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

She shakes her head. “Babe, it’s okay. I promise-“

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

She furrowed her brows. “What are you talking about baby?”

What is he talking about? He wasn’t even sure himself. But he knew that he wasn’t happy right now. He continued to cry, his eyes closed and his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry for trying to change you.”

Okay…what? With everything he said, she only got more and more confused. When was he trying to change her? Was it because of what he said? Does he understand why she was even upset about that? “What do you mean? What do you want me to be?”

He took a deep breath and wailed, “My wife.” A long series of sobs escaped him after that.

“I’m going to marry you. You don’t have to be sad.” She said, still not understanding why he was so upset.

He shook his head. She started to let go of his face. “I’m trying to turn you into someone you’re not. That’s why we fight all the time. And I’m sorry.”

She lets go of him and he lets her sit up from the bed and look down at him. They don’t break eye contact for a minute. He looks into her eyes, still crying, but not as violently. She’s terrified. She’s always been smart. She knows exactly what he’s saying. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Yes.”

Her world falls apart. She gasped horrifically, sliding off the bed and standing up to stare at him. Her mouth doesn’t close and now it’s her turn to cry violently. “What?”

“I’m sorry. It’s time.”

“Why? What did I do? What did I do?” She became beside herself. She clutched her shirt as there was nothing she could do that could help with the pain she was feeling.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s not you. I just-” he sat up and on the edge of the bed cutting himself off from trying to explain what he was thinking. But of course, he wasn’t thinking at all, was he? At least not rationally. “I need to really think about what I want out of life.”

Hobie, no. Why are you telling her these things? You want her. She wants you. So fucking make it work. But there isn’t a logical voice in his head and she’s too upset to be a voice of reason as well. So now they’re stuck.

She fell to the ground, collapsed, more like. She cries and heaves into the floor while he just looks at her. Like he always does. He should get up and comfort her the way she comforted him but he doesn’t. Does she even want him to touch her right now?

She looks up at him and desperately pleads, “Please don’t do this to me.” She holds her chest. “I love you so much…”

Yes. She wants him to walk over to her and hold her. But he doesn't. “I love you too, but-”

“Then tell me to lay back down and go to sleep.” He had never heard her beg like this in the 2 1/2 years they had been dating. It was breaking him. But instead, he stood up and opened his bedroom door. She gasped again. “Why are you doing this?”

Hobie grows frustrated with himself, but from the way he starts crying even harder and the angry look he had on his face, it comes off as him being frustrated with her. He grabs his head and repeatedly slams his hand on it as if he’s trying to get his brain to work. “Because,” he spat, “There’s a question in my head and I need to find the answer.”

“And this is the answer?” She asks. “Breaking up with me?”

Hobie doesn’t answer her. He doesn’t know. But, it’s the only answer he has. She breaks down again and hunches over. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“I know,” he said.

Hobie…what the actual fuck are you saying? How could he tell her that? He loves this girl so much and she’s looking at him like she doesn’t recognize him. He’s betrayed her. He’s certain they will never come back from this. Ever.

It takes her some time, but she stands up on her own, still in shock and disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as she gathers all of her things and walks past him. He follows her out his bedroom door, down the hallway, through the kitchen, through the living room, and finally at the front door.

“When did you stop loving me?” She asked him before he opened the door.

“I haven’t stopped loving you,” he tried to explain.

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

“I don’t know.” He muttered.

Befuddled, she glared at him. “You don’t know? What the fuck does that mean?”

Hobie, again, angry with himself but taking it out on her shouts, “This is about me finding the person I want to marry.”

No. No, no, no, no, NO! Why, Hobie? Why? He didn’t mean that. That’s not what he wanted to say. And he regrets it the moment he says it. She gasped and held her mouth. Then she becomes furious. Hobie’s face jerks to the left and he holds his stinging cheek. He looks back at her, the both of them still crying.

“I fucking hate you.” With that, she walks away.

Hobie stands there for a few moments, trying to understand how everything went so bad in such a small amount of time. Trying to understand why he still wasn’t happy; why he was even more upset than before. That question was still there. He hadn’t answered it. What has he done?

Not long after she left, Hobie grabs his keys and leaves the apartment as well. At first, he doesn’t know where he’s walking. He just doesn’t want to be home right now. He only had his keys and his phone, which died when they got back home. He walked through Brooklyn like a ghost, people moving themselves out of his way and going right back to their own lives.

It felt so surreal that the worst decision he’s ever made in his life was just some odd minutes ago. His entire world was destroyed and he was the one at fault. How could he do this to her? To himself? What was he thinking?

After some time, he stops in front of a townhouse door. These were a lot nicer than his own apartment building, bigger too. They were basically glorified flats, anyway. Fit for a family.

He knocked. The door opened and he came face to face with a close friend of his, Miles Morales. They’ve been inseparable ever since they were kids but in recent years, they’ve grown apart. Hobie was older and had more responsibilities than him while Miles…

Yes, he was younger, but it was only by a few years. He never really seemed to grow. Of course he got taller, added a little more muscle, and he gained a deeper voice, but he was still immature. Hobie didn’t have the energy for that like he used to.

But, Miles was one of his best friends and he didn’t know anyone else who always has their door open.

“ ‘Sup, bruh?” He said, nonchalantly. He walks away and waits by an open door that led downstairs. Hobie takes it as an invitation and walks inside, closing the front door behind him. He follows Miles down the steps to his basement which is basically just a second living room. There was an old couch and a large TV which housed the waiting screen for Overwatch. Of course. Miles was always playing Overwatch.

Miles sits on the couch and looks back at Hobie who was clearly downtrodden. He furrows his brows. “What happened?”

Hobie doesn’t look up from the floor. In a quiet voice he says, “I broke up with Y/N.”

ending a/n: Girl I almost didn't want to proofread this that shit hurted. Just so y’all can rly get the gist abt how strong shrooms are, the dosage you should be taking is 2 grams. Also, lemon tekking (dousing the shrooms in lemon juice) will make it stronger. So 7 grams on top of lemon tekking will fuck you up badly. Don’t do this. Please.

Anywayyyyy, be on the look out for part two, I'm thinking about making this 3 parts depending on how long the second part is. Please let me know what you think! Did it hurt? IT BETTER!

Part 2 Part 3

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#across the spiderverse #spider punk #hobie brown #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x black! fem! reader #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x black!reader #black reader #Hobie brown x black reader #spider punk x black reader

[writers-hes]

the one i love most (a. bridgerton x reader)

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But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I I knew you

(Warnings: cheating, folklore by taylor swift… angst), unedited

Kate was your dear friend but it was Anthony Bridgerton who had your heart. It wasn’t something that you meant…Anthony was just always there. He understood you in ways no one ever has. Maybe it was because of the friendship that you both fostered long ago. Two kids in his mother’s garden, playing hide and seek with his siblings. Your friendship was rooted on solid ground and nothing could have ever ruined it.

When Edmund Bridgerton died, it was you who helped Anthony through it all. He said it himself one afternoon while you walked through the lush green grasses of the park. You smiled and brushed it aside. He was your friend, it was the least you could do. Anthony was grateful for you. Grateful that you stayed in his life despite his shortcomings and his mistakes. You’ve always been there for him and he couldn’t just let you go so easily. It hurt him when you left. It broke him when you told him that you’d never want to receive another letter from him…he didn’t follow.

But everything hurt.

It started one night. You were in a secluded area in someone’s estate, attending the party under the guise of looking for marriage.

“My mother has been pestering me to find a wife,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I could marry yet. There’s so much to do…so much to achieve and I…” words fell from his lips as he watched you tilt your head sideways.

“What is it?”

I wanted it to be you. I want you. I want everything but I’m tied down to my responsibilities and I can’t just want you so wantonly without thinking about anything else.

“I am to attend a picnic with the Sharmas,” he sighed. “The younger sister…Edwina. What do you think of her?”

“Why does it matter? She’s smart, capable, and beautiful,” you replied monotonously. Edwina was all of these things but Anthony wanted something else.

“I think it is Kate who has my heart,” you heard him mutter. You looked up at him, hopelessness stirring in your heart. “But I’m not sure yet,”

“Shouldn’t love be as simple as knowing?”

Kate Sharma was the perfect match for Anthony and you couldn’t even deny it. It was there. They were written in the stars; foretold by the cosmos. You simply had no space in his heart. The shape of Anthony that you so carefully took care of would forever be his but you would never be. It was the same thing when he fell in love with the opera singer. He longed for her whilst he occupied your mind.

“But I want you…”

“Anthony?”

“I want you,” he said. “But if it is one of the sisters who I shall marry for the preservation of the honor of my family, then, I shall,”

Words died down in your throat. Were you not honorable enough for him? You shook your head as he neared.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I realized that I want you,” he whispered. “Will you allow me?”

One kiss turned into more kisses. Fleeting touches that occurred sometimes. He’d look at you sometimes while you laughed at someone else’s jokes. You’d look away when he’d dance with Kate. Soon, you were travelling the roads less travelled by; wearing Anthony’s garments as to not arouse suspicion. Soon, you were meeting an inconspicuous alleyway that led to a hidden cottage just outside of the city. Only the two of you before he marries Kate tomorrow.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” you told him.

“But it is you who I want,”

“How many more proposals must I reject for you, Anthony?” you asked but he’d kiss you so you’d never have to think of it ever again.

Tomorrow, when you help Kate prepare for the wedding, you'll have a lump in your throat that you’ll try to swallow. When he puts the ring on her finger, you’d tear up because of how happy you were for the two of them. They’d never know the cross you’d carry in your heart; how terrible you’d feel because Anthony would never be with you. You’d never be his wife. He’d never wake up beside you ever again. You knew that he loved her and you only warmed his bed to keep him from the cold. He’d never know the guilt you’d carry for loving him while he loved someone else. He’d never know anything because at the end of the day, it was Kate whom he loves.

It’s been three days since he married Kate.

He seeked you out in all of those days. He’d come up with a smooth lie about his estate but he’d ultimately end up with you somewhere. He’d hike your skirt an inch higher than what was appropriate and when the sun sets, he’d walk away and let you go. Not today, though. You were set on telling him something important.

“A duke proposed to me,” you muttered while he fixed his belt. He looks at you.

“And what did you say?”

“That I’ll think about it,”

“Say no,” he says, sitting down on the bed, helping you with your corset. “Say no,”

“Why?” you asked. “I’m not getting any younger, Anthony,” you sighed. “My mother wants me to accept his proposal. It’s not everyday I get proposed to by a duke,”

“A viscount isn’t enough for you?” he asks, nibbling softly on your ear.

“No, it’s not like that. You know it isn’t,” you scolded, inching away from him but he holds you closer. “It’s just that…my prospects aren’t as great. Every year, my value dwindles down. This man…he’s kind and considerate. He’s not half as bad and respects me.” Every word seemed to stab Anthony’s heart, twisting it further and further until he was bleeding. “Besides, if I don’t marry, where else will I go?”

“You’ll have me,” he says. “You don’t need a duke to take care of you. I will,”

“And what of my family? What about Kate?” you asked. “Anthony, you’re only mine when we’re together. These clandestine meetings ought to stop soon,”

“Will you make him wait a little bit more? Until I sort things out,” he asks and you nod, your voice betraying you once more. You knew that you had to give an answer soon…but for now, you’ll allow yourself to take Anthony’s word for it. “I promise you’ll never have to look for somebody else to take care of you,”

Between the two of you, you both knew that things would be changing. Anthony has never faced a proposal from a duke before when it came to you. You were right. How many proposals do you have to reject just so you could wait around for him? He knew it was unfair for you but Anthony was a selfish man. He couldn’t imagine himself sharing you with somebody else. He couldn’t imagine losing you and if it took the heavens to come crashing down to do so, he would be more than happy to comply.

He watched as your carriage took you back home. For all everyone knew, you met up with Anthony by the park for an afternoon stroll. It was a daily occurence that shocked no one. Still, when he married Kate, the Ton wondered if these meetings would stop. The town moved on from one gossip to another but one thing was sure…they’d never get over how a married Viscount and a spinster from a respectable family met up every afternoon without lapse.

You sat in the drawing room of your house. You heard the whispers on the street. How shameless! You knew what they said about you but still, there was something inside your heart that bloomed whenever you saw Anthony. You’d never admit it to him and it seems that he’d never say it too but without the verbiage of confessions, you just both knew.

You hated how he made you feel sometimes. It hurt to know that no matter what you did, you’d never take things back. It hurt to know that you were hurting Kate too. She’d never hurt you the way you hurt her. Multiple times…over and over again. Anthony would never know the guilt that consumed you whenever you laid with him…the torment of knowing what’s right but doing what’s wrong because for him, what he was doing was right. He was a selfish man.

The next time you met Anthony with even more confusing feelings was a dinner hosted by your family. He was with Kate, happiness painting his face so effortlessly. Kate made him happy while you looked like you were dying multiple times. You flashed a smile when Kate found you. It was so natural, nobody would ever suspect a thing.

“Kate, you look so beautiful,” you told her. “Marriage life suits you,”

“Anthony treats me well,” Kate laughs. “I heard a duke has proposed to you…?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I…said yes,”

“What? That’s amazing!” Kate exclaims but you shush her.

“It’s still something that we decided to keep between us,” you confessed. “A moment of peace before the Ton realizes,” You couldn’t look at Anthony who appeared beside Kate.

“Anthony, you can’t tell anyone but our dear friend is spoken for,” Kate whispers and Anthony could feel his world crumble. He showed it with a fake smile and a clench of his jaw.

“What?” he asked, incredulously. “You’re engaged?”

“Yes,” you whispered, looking everywhere but him. “I am,”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kate says, sensing the tension between the two of you. She knew that you were the closest among the Ton and you were the one to thank for how Anthony turned out. He only ever listened to you and she often wondered if his heart belonged to someone else. Maybe you…but you were engaged now. Surely, she’d never have to worry about that. About you.

“Let’s go,” Anthony says, taking your arm and then dragging you to your room. How scandalous. It hurt to think that for him, he could drag you everywhere else without so much as a word from you. He locks the door behind him and looks at you like you’ve murdered him.

“Is it true?” he demands. “That you’re spoken for?”

“Anthony—“

“Please…just tell me,” he begs. “Is it true?”

“It is,” you nod and he inhales a breath. “I was planning to tell you tonight. He’s kind, Anthony. You’d never have to worry about how he treats me,”

“Break it off,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“Break off your engagement. It’s my job to take care of you. While it’s early,”

You felt anger bubbling inside you. How could he ask that of you when he could never do the same?

“We can’t keep on seeing each other like this, Anthony,” you tell him calmly. “Kate loves you and I…”

“What about you? Do you love him?”

“I’m engaged to him,”

“Do you love him?”

“I’ll learn to!” you cried. “He’s a great man, Anthony and after we wed in England, he’ll take me away from here and bring me to Scotland,”

“What?” he asked. “He’ll take you away from me? What about me? What about us? You’ll forget about us that easily? Like we were nothing? You know that I need you here. Why are you leaving me? Do you not love me?”

“You can’t do that to me, Anthony,” you tell him. “I could have stayed with you for a lifetime if you weren’t married…but this—everything—doesn’t feel right anymore. I’m hurting Kate. We’re hurting her without her knowing and you’re hurting me.” you cried. “This is all too confusing for me and I’m afraid we have to let it end here,”

“We can’t. We’ve known each other in all of our years. You just can’t leave me here alone.”

“But you are married to Kate! It doesn’t feel right. Do you know what the Ton thinks? I used to think that we could just both run away,” you told him. “I thought about it but it couldn’t happen. You have your responsibilities and I have mine…”

“I need you here,” he begged, sitting down on your bed as you walked towards him. “Just stay here with me. You can marry him…just stay here with me, please,”

“Anthony…”

“Please,” he begs, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head on your chest. “You can’t leave me. You’re the only person in this whole world that gets me. You know me more than anyone else. You’re my person,”

“But I don’t know you anymore, Anthony. Ever since you married Kate, everything between us became purely physical. You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t kiss me the same way you used to. You stopped letting me in,” you said, stroking his hair softly.

“Please. I’ll be better. Kate may be who I am married to on paper but it has always been you,”

“So, why didn’t you choose me?”

Anthony stilled. You’d never know how much he wanted you. You’d never know how much he yearned for you. You’d never know how he had to stop himself from loving you completely because he believes that he’d never deserve your love. He didn’t want to marry in love and you wanted it more than anything. He was tied down to produce an heir. He never wanted to love but you took it from him. He’ll always be the first born. His responsibilities must come first before his whims.

“And then what? We’ll hurt two people?” you asked, hands on his shoulders to push him away. “Anthony, I’m so tired of hurting the people that I love,”

“Am I not who you love the most?” he asks in a small whisper. “You’re who I love the most,”

“So why did you marry Kate?” you asked, breaking away from him. “You’re telling me you love me now when you’re married to someone else. When I’m about to marry somebody else,” you cried, tears flowing from both your eyes. “I’ve done nothing but love you in all our years. I was so, so, so convinced that you were going to marry me. I rejected proposals and prospects because I was holding onto that thread so badly but you never once asked me for a dance,”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so, so, sorry,”

“If I asked you to run away with me now…would you?”

“Kate is pregnant,”

You could only chuckle as you moved from him.

“Kate is pregnant,” you nodded. “Kate is pregnant and yet, here you are begging for me to stay. You’re about to have a family, Anthony. Why can’t you see that we’re hurting the one we love?”

“Because I love you the most,”

“Kate is pregnant,” you reminded him. “Anthony, we should stop all the emotions that linger. I’m leaving England and you have to leave me too. We’d never be the same. We could never have our nights again. I am thankful for them, trust me…but this—this needs to stop.” you shook your head in disbelief and excused yourself.

Anthony watched as you left your bedchamber. He’d have to save face and attend your wedding soon but for now, he’ll allow himself to nurse his broken heart in the place where you broke it into a million pieces.

Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

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