#if i’m not trying and failing to fix a toilet; i’m trying to prevent my elderly landlord from finding out about the existence of a cat

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 18

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader   CW: mentions of abuse, throwing up, depression, horrible coping mechanisms, implied sexual references   A/N: Read CW for this chap.

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 18: Love Isn’t a Magic Potion

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February 14th, 1976

There wasn’t quite another person like James Potter who knew what unrequited love felt like.

After years of harbouring feelings for Lily, making a fool of himself, his failed attempts of trying to impress her; she never seemed to take interest. Lily always sent him disgusted looks, never passing up the opportunity to call him a dirty arrogant toe-rag.

And sure, it phased him sometimes; her words cutting deep, but despite it all, James still believed in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half. His parents were his main inspiration for love. Years — decades they’d been together and still, the love they held for one another, so fierce and unstoppable, it even shocked James at times.

A long time ago, when he truly understood the concept of love, he made a promise that he wouldn’t settle for anything but for the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding his soulmate — his better half.

He wanted all of it. The good days, the bad days, the glitter and sparkles, the cheesy one-liners; long walks on the beach, nursing them back to health after they caught the flu, watching the sunsets, dancing in the rain — even the stupid petty arguments. He wanted all of it.

No matter how long it took to find them, he would; after all, everyone had their person.

Maybe that’s why he chased after Lily for so long — hoping for that romantic love — the love that’s made for movie screens — the type of love that conquered all. But he wouldn’t continue to beat on a dead horse, especially if Lily didn’t want that.

He wouldn’t force her and certainly, he wouldn’t harass her.

But, James would consider himself lucky, he found his friends — they were already his platonic soulmates and he’d go to the ends of the earth for each of them. His parents, the Marauders, Marlene, now Whiskers; he was always surrounded by only the purest amount of love.

He was never a person to cover up his emotions — hardly, that is. He wore his heart proudly on his sleeve, never once letting others dictate his life and the way that he loved. He laid himself bare, open, and there was a beauty to it that words couldn’t describe.

Love truly conquered all, whether it be romantic or platonic.

But to the women that fell in love with Sirius Black, well — there wasn’t quite another group of people like them who knew what unrequited love felt like — not even James ‘Oi, Evans!’ Potter could compare. 

Love is shit.

Love is cruel.

Love is unfair.

Sirius would go on date after date. One fleeting look and soon enough, he had women at his feet, falling for his devilish charm that captivated them in seconds.

They swooned over his chiselled jaw and thick glossy hair; eyes so mysterious with profound, moonlit mirth. The epicanthic folds highlighted his sharp and pointed look that they swore cut through them, searching through the deepest part of their souls.

He was a part or used to be a part of the oldest and most noble Pureblood families in the country. He was rich, of high status, French, could speak five languages and a mischievous bad boy straight out of your classic Muggle film.

Falling in love with Sirius Black was an easy task, so simple and it could happen in a blink of an eye. The realization would come either fast or slow depending on the poor lovesick git who let themselves fall.

But getting Sirius Black to return that affection was an impossible task.

He was raised as a gentleman and would play the part before becoming bored. They were all fillers, the people he dated.

He would admit it, he’s a bit of a dick.

He never fell in love with anyone he’s dated so far — never got past the fancying stage and even then, it was never strong. It never made him feel those butterflies that James described them as. His heart never jumped, never sped up fast, he never felt his skin heat nor did their laugh ever put him into a trance — nothing like what he described them to be like. If anything, he’d always break it off with the girls he found himself getting too comfortable with; always severing it before it became too much.

Although, it technically never was his fault that they fell in love. Most of his admirers like to daydream from afar, or they’d make a promise at the beginning — no strings attached.

Well for them, it did. It almost always ended with strings attached with Sirius holding a pair of shiny scissors at the end of fried thread.

He did not believe in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half.

But that doesn't mean he didn’t want it.

But, above all, Sirius Black considered himself to be a realist. Unlike James, he couldn't — he wouldn’t let himself believe in that shit anymore. Love is disappointing and it does nothing but hurt you, nothing but a filler he used to distract himself with, no matter who it was. Love did not fix his fuck ups nor himself.

All of the adoring admirers, the ones that lined up for him, they would all leave if they caught a glimpse of the worst parts of him. The ugly, nasty parts. He used rage as a means of defence, he pushed the people he loves away, he was moody, dramatic and above all, reckless.

All they wanted was to take, use him for his body — they wouldn’t love him if they knew him. The real him: the ugly side along with the beautiful one he wore. The side that wasn’t always adventurous, daring, bold, brave… happy, go-getting.

Nobody would stay for the ugly part of him.

In that regard, Sirius was unloveable. Completely, utterly unloveable.

Currently, the uglier, caged part of Sirius re-emerged as he writhed around in his bed. Eyes moved rapidly behind eyelids, squinted in pain as he squirmed around, clutching the bed sheets tightly. His head flopped from side to side as he was unable to wake; stuck in a nightmare.

“You mudblood lover —” “Don’t call them that!” “Babies, Regulus, babies!” “It’s killing me to stay.” “CRUCI —”

Sirius woke with a jolt, choking on a strangled scream that clawed at his throat. His mind seemed to be encased in a wordless static, muting him to the noise around him as he felt the rapid, hard thumps against his chest. Distantly, he could feel his body raking in waves as the sticky, cold feeling of his sweat dripped from his temple and down the side of his face. It made his hair stick to his forehead uncomfortably yet somehow, despite the sweating and the overwhelming feeling of heat, he felt ice cold.

He swallowed thickly, sniffingly away the stinging growing behind his eyelids but failed as a few stray tears had already settled on his cheeks. Sirius looked around frantically, meeting the familiar red and gold bed sheets that were now pushed off of him as he sat upright in his bed. Red velvet drapes hung around the sides, pulled together as slivers of bright light sliced through them. It made him squint and focus on the surroundings.

Soon enough, it felt like a weight lifted off his chest, marked in unspoken forgiveness once realizing where he was.

You’re safe, his inner voice spoke firmly, It was just a dream. A dream.

“Wakey, wakey Padfoot!”

He had just enough time to wipe the freshly fallen tears away before James ripped back his curtains, jumping into his bed. He drew a deep sigh, avoiding James’ eyes and trained them to look outside.

Upon the grass and mountains, snow sprinkled on much like sugar over a cake. The distant chirping of birds could be heard singing their usual song, or more like an alarm clock, as they soared high in the sky without a worry in the world.

If only Sirius could be a bird, what a simple life he would lead.

“Fuck you,” groaned Remus, “He might be awake, but I’m not.” His eyes clenched in annoyance, throwing his blanket over his head.

“Well aren’t you lovely? Isn’t he, Sirius?”

“The loveliest,” he managed to grit out, throat groggy and dry.

“Shut up!”

“Okay, calm down big bad wolf.”

“Well,” he mocks James, his voice going an octave higher, “This big bad wolf can maul you.”

James beamed brightly, the ever morning person he was, unaffected by Moony’s response. Instead, he padded his way over to him, shaking him before Remus flipped the covers off his body, tackling him into his bed.

“Do you guys think I should cut my hair?” James managed to get out as he gasped. Remus sprawled out on top of him, pinning him in place as he was being crushed from his weight. “I want to make sure I look good for today.”

“You’re always in need of a trim,” Peter called out.

“You look fine,” Remus added, “Besides, you and scissors are not a good move right now.”

Meanwhile, Sirius’ stomach felt hollow, worry ate at his very being before he felt something rise within his throat. Quickly, swinging his legs over the edge, Sirius made his way to the loo in a rush while James and Remus were both distracted.

Peter was there, rifling through the cabinets with his toothbrush dangling from his lips. “Morning,” he said, not quite looking over to him, “Do we have any more toothpaste? I keep telling Prongs not to use so much…”

“Get out,” he managed to say before shoving Peter out of the door, closing it shut. He barely managed to cast a silencing charm before opening the lid of the toilet seat, throwing up. For the most part, Sirius gagged on air before finally attempting to collect himself, preventing hyperventilation.

Foolishly, even up until that dreaded night, Sirius had an ounce of hope. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was hope that Regulus might have turned out different, or maybe it was hope that he’d finally be accepted, even though he knew that would never be the case — never with parents like Walburga or Orion.

But every time he dared to dream, to hope, he was always quickly reminded why it hurt. Hope was dangerous, a false sense of reality — a taste of what people dreamt and chase for but could never quite grasp.

It was more addicting than any kind of alcohol he drank — or the girls — or pranks.

Eventually, he got up from the floor, jumped in the shower and followed his morning routine before wrapping a towel around himself and stepped out.

Sirius was drying his hair before catching a glimpse of himself in the large mirror in front of the sink.

Sirius had never been insecure about the way he looked. A part of him, the arrogant and narcissistic part of him knew that he looked good and he’d flaunt it. But there were times like today, where he’d look at himself, but feel as if he’s looking at a familiar face that wasn’t his — a monster reflected back.

He wondered if this is what Moony felt like.

For a moment, Sirius let his face rest, allowing the helpless, loitering fear and guilt he felt engrave its way onto the smooth surface of his skin.

The eyes looking back at him today were his father’s, his hair reminded him too much of Regulus, his high cheekbones reminded him of Walburga and the tired, slightly crazed look reminded him of Bellatrix.

A member of the Black family, that's what people saw when they first looked at Sirius, the heir of the most noble and ancient house of Black.

Sirius Orion Black.

Orion Black… Even his name made him want to cry out in rage. Another reminder.

Pushing back his wet hair, he studied the faded scar that disappeared into his hairline.

It was more apparent than ever that Sirius had scars.

But unlike James, whose scars were from happy memories of the Quidditch pitch, or Peter, whose only scars were from chopping chocolate for a fancy baking recipe — and lastly, Remus, whose scars were visible, laid out for everyone to see, Sirius’ scars were invisible.

He wore them day in and day out without anyone ever knowing.

With a blink, he drowned out his thoughts immediately; his dreams, his past, his thoughts were for another time.

He sucked in a breath, clicking the door open.

Remus was the only other person still in the dorm. He stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up his white school shirt before ducking down and grabbed his bag, shoving in books, his wand and any other loose pages of parchment that he assumed was for his little study group.

“Where’s Wormy and James?” He asked, not liking the way his voice sounded wobbly and hoarse. His eyes no longer peered up at his chap, instead looking around the room. Anywhere but his face.

Thankfully, Moony didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with the now overflowing pile of Valentine gifts and cards on his bedside. He grew frustrated with them with every passing second as they littered his space.

“Accio bin!”

The black bin from across the room flew into Remus’ hand, quickly shoving the letters in but soon a guilty look flashed across his face.

Remus had always been too considerate about their feelings, perhaps Sirius should take a page from his book.

Sirius had a pile accumulating on the carpet beside his trunk; it seemed like more and more people every year were confessing their feelings, but this time, Remus seemed to be getting a lot more along with the rest of the Marauders. But he smiled, happy to know that Remus had been getting some action. He fucking needed it.

“Er — sorry, Pete’s off to Wood’s room to borrow their toothpaste and James —” Remus cut himself off, bringing a hand to the sides of his temples as he moved them in circular motions. “I’m pretty sure Prongs went to find Y/N. Something about finishing a sign or a song for today —”

Sirius bit back a laugh, “A song?”

“I guess he’s fucking Paul McCartney now.”

Remus passed him, disappeared into the loo, giving enough time for Sirius to get dressed.

It was his third dream that week about that night and it was wearing down on him emotionally. He was losing sleep, he wasn’t eating, he was reclining from the Marauders, he was so prone to anger; lashing out, yelling… he didn’t like how he was acting — it reminded him too much of Orion.

And the thought made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to be a monster.

Lost in his depressing thoughts, Remus re-entered the room. But instead of walking up to his bed, Remus halted, looking directly at him before he crossed the room, putting a protective, encouraging hand onto his shoulder. A serious and calculated look crossed his face.

“Do you need anything?” He spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were to speak any louder, the walls might hear.

Sirius felt unexpected annoyance brewing in his chest. Bloody fucking Lupin, of course he knew — using his heightened senses to sniff out his distress.

Unlike Sirius, who hid his emotions, who covered and buried even a sign of weakness, who searched for answers high and low, Remus was so blunt — clear cut with his emotions. He knew just what to say, knew what was happening before others did even if they hadn’t even spoken yet.

He wished his thought process was as clear-cut as Moony’s.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” he said, faking nonchalance. Jokingly, he prodded Remus’ cheek with his finger, “Turning into Moomy, again?”

His friend did not smile, concern still latched on.

“You know I’m always here for —” Before he could say anything more, Sirius hastily grabbed his bag, slinging over his shoulder, bolting out of the room.

Hiding — running away from his problems — that’s what Sirius was an expert on. And like that, he switched off that part — the ugly, unloveable part of his brain for the day.

When Sirius reached the Great Hall, he wasn’t surprised when a dozen owls bombarded him with letters and chocolates. It brought a sly smile to his lips

What? He did say he was arrogant.

“Looking grand, Black,” Marlene teased as she observed the overflowing amount of cards already in his arms. She ruffled his hair as he was forced to take the seat next to L/N. Marlene turned to chat with Dorcas, who finally was back on her feet and kicking it.

“It’s not even eight and your bag is filled?!” Peter exclaimed, baffled.

A part of Sirius didn’t feel annoyed as he sat beside her. Maybe it was because his main stressor, the Black family, was out of the picture and he’d been desperately trying to control his lash outs, but Sirius was stumped. Since the break, especially after the ‘Muggle’ incident, he found himself tolerating her presence.

Just a bit.

He understood why James, Remus, Lily, Marlene; why everyone took a liking to her.

But he had an inkling as to why.

Although, his mixed feelings towards her were not helping in the slightest as he dealt with the string of recent events in his life.

She was the one that spoke first, which surprised him.

“Ugh —” Y/N fiddled with the hem of her robes, “Kettleburn wants us to switch the Puffeskin between us. I was thinking since we’re in the same house, we could keep it in one of our dorms. I was thinking about keeping it in yours.”

“Why not yours?”

“They liked to hatch in warm places. Your dorm has a fireplace, right? I remember James telling me you had one… And it would make it easier since women can go into the boy’s dorms.”

For some reason, he couldn’t stop himself — he just couldn’t. “I bet you’re trying to get off quick.”                

The accusations did not sit right with her.

For someone like Sirius, someone who dealt with the worst shit imaginable; someone who'd been beaten down, both metaphorically and literally — someone who by the textbook was supposed to curl in on himself — keep to himself, be small, avoid drama, don’t cause arguments — Sirius did anything but that. Everything he did, he made sure to cause a reaction.

“No —”

“Are we about to argue because you want to win, or is it because you want to learn?.”

“You’re so arrogant. I don’t need you for grades. Your brain probably grew twice in size when I turned you into a dog.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Then why are you replying?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Very creative.”

“Do you ever just shut up?” She snaps. Her face inched closer to his.

Unbeknownst to her, for a second, a second that he’d never admit, Sirius' brain falters. They hadn’t been this close to each other since that day after Kettleburn had assigned their group project. He catches the smell of faint floral — tulips, he thinks. Or maybe vanilla? Books? Tea? He couldn’t place it.

But his heart did a funny thing. It never does a funny thing like that and it concerns him. He wasn’t sick, was he?

Silence lingers.

L/N scoffed, “Well finally, it looks like you have.”

Although, she seems completely unphased by their closeness.

“Huh, you really do shut up.”

He snorts, his brain finally working again. “You nag an awful lot.”

“Well, you —”

“Whiskers. You’re a woman, how do I look?” James asked. He came bouncing up to them across the hall from the entrance. He twirls a little, showing off his outfit. In one hand, he held a sign and a bunch of roses. “Would you fancy me?”

“Dropping hints, are we, Potter?” She smirks playfully, “Anyway, I know you nicked that from Sirius.”

Sirius looked over to him, his head nodding up and down but was surprised that she noticed the difference, “She’s right, that is mine. Maybe that’s why you look so good.” He meant for the remark to come off as a joke, but cringed as the words spewed from his mouth. He sounded like a complete arse. 

James ignores him, “I have everything planned.” Then, he holds up a sign, all in baby pink with hearts dancing across the page as a huge message declaring his affection for Emmeline was written in bold fonts. I looked fairly cheesy, but that was James for you. A romantic at heart.

“Well,” he starts, clearly happy, “Do you like it?! I’ve also got a song written!”

“Remember the last time you wrote someone a —”

Y/N kicked him, hard, under the table, which caused Sirius to look at her sharply before his face turned annoyed again. She hadn’t even glanced his way yet. She continued to calm James down, giving him a pep talk while Sirius would jump in with encouraging words.

“Of course we love it — is it for Lily or —”

James shakes his head and they both knew who he was referring to.

“— Then Emmeline will love it even more! Get the girl, Bambi!”

James smiled triumphantly, sticking his fist out for a fist bump before running off happily towards the Ravenclaw table.

“Y’know,” Y/N starts, talking to Sirius as they both watch as James gets up on the table, preparing to serenade Emmeline in front of the entire Great Hall with a guitar that vaguely looks like Remus’. “You can choose not to be a dick.”

Surprisingly, he laughed, small, but there. And then, he finds himself responding to her comments, “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, feeling his mouth go dry. He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fluttering shut a couple times. It didn’t help that she smirked at his reaction and it made Sirius feel funny. An odd swoop piddled at the base of his stomach.

“I’ll take that into consideration for later,” he settled on.

Remus and Lily waltzed into the room, both holding small cards of their own. L/N and Sirius shuffled over as much as they could to fit in with both Remus and Lily. 

A part of Sirius’ routine had started incorporating Lily doing his hair. Most often, she did pretty braids or buns — but of course, not without James pouting to him later. He only hoped that with Emmeline’s new presence, James would stop.

“Ooo la-la!” Y/N mocked, swiping one of the cards from Lily and Remus. “You two are popular.” She turned to face Lily.

“It’s n-nothing, really, “Lily stuttered, her head ducking down. But her eyes seemed to look up at her, seemingly in hope of some recognition.

“Don’t be so modest!”

“A-hem!” James’ bostal voice. His foot wobbled on the edge of the table that made them all nervous if he were to fall. He finally concluded his song. Lily looked over and smiled, glad to know that James had finally chosen a different target to annoy.

“Fuckin’ barmy,” Remus muttered out, a hand going to cover his mouth in suspense. His hand travelled down to his chin-stroking his jaw.

“Emmeline, thou beauty —”

“Oh my god,” groaned Remus again, sinking in his seat from the second embarrassment but smiling nevertheless.  

However, Marlene whopped loudly, a large grin on her face.

Lily looked over to the scene, her eyes finding their way back to L/N, Peter paled slightly at the scene, Marlene was howling in laughter along with Sirius.

But much like himself, L/N found herself laughing with them too.

Her laughter rang out, and Sirius found himself drawn to the noise. But what was worse, was that he wanted to hear it again.

And even though he knew that other women and even men were staring at him right now, ready to give him all their affection and attention, Sirius found himself unable to look away from her.

He felt his palms getting sweaty, his heart beat harder, he wanted to sit closer to her and a smile tugged at his lips but he forced it down.

Fuck.

It was almost as the realization hit him there like a thousand tidal waves.

His heart jumped, it sped up fast, he felt his skin heat and her laugh put him into a trance — everything like what James described it to feel like.

If it was what he thought it was, Sirius wasn’t quite pleased with his newfound knowledge. He already had too much shit to deal with and certainly, someone like her was not worth it.

As the thought arose, there was something else that pulled him from these thoughts; it was the very shit that Sirius was dealing with, coming to haunt him again.

Regulus entered the Great Hall and Sirius had the urge to run to the nearest bin again. He hadn’t seen him since that night.

Within seconds, Regulus sensed his gaze and their eyes locked.

He wasn’t proud of Regulus, if anything, Sirius resented him — hated him and his entire body spiked in anger as he stared at him. He chose his path. But he couldn’t help but feel immense, dreadful guilt.

He could’ve done more, been there for him more, talked to him more. There were so many possibilities, so many outcomes and Sirius managed to end up with one of the worst paths imaginable.

He both wanted to scoop him up in his arms, cry — hold onto him tight like how they used to years ago, but the other part also wanted to take a Beater’s bat and swing a Bludger at his head.

His head shook slightly, just enough for Regulus to get the hint.

There was a hard, hopeless expression on Regulus’ face as he seemed to take a sharp inhale, his shoulders slumping within every passing second.

They were from two separate worlds, more evident than ever now. They weren’t brothers, not really.

Two of the brightest stars were torn apart forevermore.

Once the bell rang, Sirius sprang out of his seat and walked down the halls. He dodged owls, letters, chocolates and even a few love potions. There was a familiar void that punched its way through Sirius’ chest.

It was too early for firewhiskey, he couldn’t get knackered, he couldn’t talk to James, not when he was this happy and getting a pack of smokes from Remus — he’d bloody know within seconds what was wrong and call a Marauder's meeting or sort out some intervention for his sanity. Besides, he needed to apologize to Peter for how he acted that morning.

So the next best thing; snogging — a quick shag.

The next girl that tossed a flirtatious wink his way, he immediately approached. She was pale, had brown hair, soft skin and he vaguely recognized her but couldn’t quite place it. They flirted, Sirius would suggest it, she smiled, nodding her head and giving out a breathless sigh as Sirius dove for her lips, walking into the nearest broom closet.

Things were fast, almost a blur. She reached down, fumbling with his buckle before it clanked to the floor; he unbuttoned her top, hoisting her up and pushing them against a wall. She let out soft whimpers and he groaned into her neck.

The sensation, the building pleasure had left as soon as it came, leaving him feeling empty once more. He peeled off the girl, checking if she was alright like every other time. He didn’t know her name, forgetting it, and smiled awkwardly as she dressed.

He watched her leave the broom closet, the door clicking softly behind her. He could hear the faint scuffle of her shoes as she skipped down the hall excitedly. She had gotten what she wanted, a piece of Sirius; the Sirius that he put out — the pretty, nicely packaged Sirius.

Bent down, sinking to the floor, rocking on the balls of his feet, arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his head resting on his knees; emotions pooled through Sirius, attacking his frail heart.

Sirius laughs; it was dry, sad, pathetic, defeated. It was hard enough to hide with smiles, pranks, the random girls, sex, but those happy hormones that he craved, it was never, ever enough.

He couldn't go on like this, he had to fix something because something else was bound to break.

His laughing became strained as the walls of his throat began to close, eyes filling with tears. But now, finally alone, he let them cascade freely as his quiet sobs echoed in the dusty closest.

Love isn’t a magic potion.

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【I hope it was clear in this chapter that in no way am I trying to romanticize Sirius's trauma】

#sbtmas #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #HP #HP series #hp marauders #hp angst #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black angst #young marauders #young!sirius black #young!sirius black x reader #young!Remus Lupin x reader #sirius and regulus #Remus Lupin #regulus black #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders era #harry potter marauders #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #reader #remus and sirius #sirius

[cherrywoes]

dark sun. (ryoumen sukuna x fem!reader x oc)

xiv. boketto.

— the act of gazing vacantly into the distance without thinking.

You came back into your body with a quiet crackling of the air around you. You could feel the way you acclimated back to your own body, having been pulled from it without Shion to occupy it while you were gone. You were stationary, your fingers still gently pressed to Yuuji’s forehead, and it took you a few moments of blurry vision and confused thoughts for you to realize the boy was very much awake and staring at you with a wide, surprised gaze. You lowered your hand from his face cautiously, wary of earning some sort of lash back for invading his mind, but all he did was look at you with slow, even blinks to convey his mental game of confusion.

“Um… What’s going on here?” He questioned, eyes flicking from you to Gojo and back again, as if his teacher had an answer for what you had just done. He watched you reach up and gently touch the baby at your chest, frowning for a moment. “Shiraishi-s...san?”

“I apologize for invading your mind without permission.” You smiled and bowed your head, trying to resist the way Shion was attempting to work your connection back. It seemed he was struggling more than usual and it was causing your chest to twist and ache unpleasantly; likely a result of his leftover anger. He was still likely angry, you knew, but he couldn’t resist staying away from you for too long. At least an hour was his record, at least, you believed it was an hour—you couldn’t be sure when domains worked differently in terms of time. It was probably longer, you supposed, but you couldn’t stand around and wait to see how long it would take him to establish that connection. “And I also apologize for… hurting you, before. You must know I didn’t mean it, Itadori-san.”

He looked more befuddled than before, eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise. You wondered if Sukuna was talking to him somehow, telling him to befriend you—or something along those lines. “Oh, uh… Yeah. The god in your body did it, right? Not you? So, consider it water under the bridge, I guess.”

You couldn’t blame him for his hesitance. He was, after all, a vessel, the same as you, and he knew as well as you did that sometimes the actions of vessel and curse aligned at times. You weren’t sure about Sukuna in Yuuji’s case, but Shion’s actions aligned with your beliefs and wants perfectly. He didn’t doubt you for a second, and nor did you him—except for recently, perhaps.

The tampering with your connection was growing too irritating for you to bear and you could feel bile cresting in your throat. It wasn’t much, but you were going to purge you stomach’s meagre contents, and soon, so you fixed Gojo with a grateful smile; one that was laced with warning for him not to stop you.

“I’m afraid I have to go now,” you said, bowing low to Yuuji and Gojo separately. It was only the polite thing to do, and well, it didn’t help settle your nerves in the least. Shion twisted at the connection again and your smile became a little more pained, a little more tenuous. “I apologize for the intrusion, Satoru-san. Thank you for bringing me here.”

With little else to spur you on than the pinpricks of pain crawling up your belly and chest, you breezed past Gojo and up the stairs, slamming the door when the wind vacated the space behind you. The basement was silent for a few moments, maybe more, with Yuuji and Gojo staring up the staircase where you had vanished, as if you had never been there to begin with.

“What was that all about?” Yuuji asked, reaching for a half drank can of soda. He grimaced at the flat taste and the sickly sweet artificial aftertaste that came after, putting it down on the table with an audible clink. “Oh, gross.”

Gojo hummed and declined to answer, pulling another move from the generous pile he had donated to the cause, and cracked open the case. He spun the disc around the holder a few times, thoughts whirling as he considered your words from before, about the higher ups. The distaste in your tone as you spoke. He didn’t think you would have been one to be loyal to the higher ups in the first place, of course, seeing as you had been hidden from the world for almost your entire life—it wasn’t such an issue to assume that you were, in fact, harboring the same ideals he was: get rid of the higher ups. Your views, however, might be inherently more selfish; you had no care for any of the other sorcerers, not even for the woman who had been at your side since you became a vessel. You seemed entirely focused on escaping the confinement, the pressing holds, of the old crones that made up the circle of higher ups; at least, that was what he was able to read from you. Without that god hovering over you like a ghost, you were surprisingly human, and vulnerable—not that he had expected anything less. Yuuji was much the same in that regard. However, while parallel in origin, you and Yuuji were not the same, not really; your curse would protect you until the day you died, that much was obvious. Sukuna was much more malicious in intention, without a doubt.

“Gojo-sensei,” Yuuji whined, drawing his attention back to his student. He huffed and slumped over on the sofa, almost knocking over a stray can. “Are you even listening?”

“Of course,” he laughed, inserting the CD into the disc drive. It was a low budget horror film, he recognized, but he didn’t watch it personally. He had scooped up the cheapest selections he could find, with some more widely known titles like Lord of the Rings, but Yuuji didn’t seem to mind them as much as he thought. “I was just thinking about our new ally.”

“Ally?” the pink haired male gawked. “Who?”

Gojo tipped his head to the side, a large grin on his face. “You just met her.”

While Gojo shoved his student back to the test, you were worse off—perhaps even more so—your eyes darting across buildings and streetlights to gauge your location. Your stomach rumbled unpleasantly and you almost swore Shion was doing it to you on purpose, but you could feel his anger preventing him from unraveling the block completely; or he was conflicted, and was going back and forth on his decisions. It was wreaking havoc on your body, that was for certain, and you almost wanted to reach into his domain and pull him out yourself. If that was possible, you didn’t know, but for now, you could be content with a toilet.

You had to sprint to make it to your building before your stomach betrayed you. You had sense enough to lean over in a group of shrubs and hide your evidence, heaving your stomach’s contents onto the grass, and when you opened your eyes, spent, tears glazing your eyes, you noticed that it was entirely black; as black as ink, as black as the night sky in full midnight. You didn’t think you had eaten anything that color and when you rolled your tongue in your mouth, you tasted something sickly sweet and with the tang of iron.

Blood.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve, feeling it smear across your cheek. You couldn’t be bothered with it now; you had to get back into your room and make sure Shion was none the wiser to what you had been up to. Your stomach cramped painfully and you barely made it up the tree and across the roof, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from groaning at the pain. You wern’t certain if it was Shion or the blood you had vomited up that made you feel so awful, but you could attribute it to both if you wanted, and you did. You slipped through the window once more and locked it behind you, snatching up a book and cradling Ayako to your chest despite wanting nothing touching you at the moment.

Cold sweat dripped down the back of your neck and you were certain it had nothing to do with Shion now. You felt… ill. Sick. Diseased. Your heart was beating a little too fast; your pulse pounded in your ears; you felt anxious, panicky; you half wondered if you were having a panic attack, but pushed it aside when the connection finally unraveled like the petals of a lotus—slowly, and then all at once.

“Shion,” you croaked, breathy and light. You sensed his alarm at the growing pain in your body and a flush of energy breezed through you, dulling the pain bit not completely suffocating it. “Thanks.”

What happened? He materialized almost instantly afterwards. His hair was haphazardly put into a knot at the back of his head and stuck up in a million different places, as if he’d spent hours running his hands through it before tying it back up and leaving it as was. His horns even protruded from his skull, longer than you recalled them being, and he had dark circles under his eyes, deep and ominous against the pallor of his skin. He looked almost as sickly as you did, if not worse. Your gut told you that something more was going on here, something deeper. “[Name]?”

His vocalization of your name ripped you out of your thoughts and you looked up at him, sweat beading your brow. “I… I don’t know. I threw up, and then my stomach started—then the sweating…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gathering you into his arms. Your book flopped to the floor, uncared for, even as the page fluttered open to the ‘A’ section, the name ‘Ayako’ highlighted by a streak of moonlight. “If I had known my anger would make you so ill, I would have never cut off our connection. I could have stopped this.”

Your own guilt overpowered his. You patted his arm, just above the crook of his elbow, and grimaced at the way your skin stuck to his with the cooling sweat. “It’s alright, Shion. It isn’t your fault—your emotions, while new, aren’t something to be brushed aside. You can’t just ignore them for me. You have to overcome them. I think not sharing them is… making it worse every time.” You silently omitted the fact that his failed attempts at unraveling the connection had started it in the first place. You deserved this pain for betraying him. You deserved everything he gave you, even if it was unintentional. It was the only way you would succeed. “... Help me up?”

When you were safely tucked away in your bed, your clothes changed into something more cooler to deal with the sweat, you allowed Shion to sequester Ayako away in a pillow barricade and steal her side for himself, likely having learned it from passively observing you. He was careful not to jostle you too much, highly aware of the way your stomach was still churning, and rested his ear against your heart, tapping his fingers to the rhythm on your hip. You didn’t fight him off, no matter how uncomfortable you might have been, and played idly with his hair, pulling it from the knot and twisting it around his horns. Other than your breathing and Ayako’s quiet sounds of grunting and squeaking, the room was quiet. You could feel him gearing up to speak in the way his jaw was working.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you reassured him, throat flexing over the gag reflex you were trying to repress. A moment later it was gone, magically repressed—but you could still feel it resisting his power, strangely. “I don’t expect you to explain everything to—”

“But I want to,” Shion interrupted you. He never looked up at you, but continued to tap to your heartbeat still, even noting the slight stutter when your thoughts came to a screeching halt. “That was a… sensitive time in my existence. I admit that. But… I don’t believe I’m ready to speak of it just yet. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”

You waited for a moment to see if he would say anything more, to even hint that he was as angry as he was before, but all you felt from him was guilt, guilt, and more guilt, which made no sense; you were the only one who had to feel guilty about anything. His secrets didn’t have the ability to break hearts and fragile trust, after all.

“Alright,” you said, once it was clear he had nothing else to say. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Shion.”

“And if one day, I want to?”

You frowned slightly at his change in tone. Something was different. Something had… shifted. You couldn’t put your finger on it and shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to thumb the prongs of his horns thoughtfully. “Then that’s your decision, not mine.”

A pause. Then,”I see.”

“Are you alright?” You asked, finally, when waiting became too much. He looked up at you then, green and gold eyes flashing in the moonlight, and though his gaze was gentle, every instinct in you warned you to flee. But like a lamb to a lion, you were doomed to a careful existence with him. “You look, well, awful. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sick before.”

He frowned, almost similarly to how you did, and his eyebrows drew down. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sure it'll be fine then.” You yawned, pressing your fist against your mouth to smother it. You snuggled into your pillow and shifted Shion to be a little more comfy, eyes flicking to Ayako, who was as placid as ever. Shion turned his head again and pressed his ear to your heart once more, obscuring your view of Ayako completely. You were blissfully unaware at the way his eyes narrowed at the child when you slipped into a deep sleep, mumbling,”Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Shion whispered. “[Name].”

Ayako froze underneath his stare, dark eyes wide, and remained that way until the god finally vanished upon the first rays of the sun.

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[swtltlmrvlgrl]

Is it Real (Part 7)

Chapter Summary: Bucky takes care of the reader while Steve is still working. Steve sees the reader in a vulnerable state, and as much as he wants to protect her from all the pain, he questions his right to be with her. But it was never about his right to be beside you, it had always been about him wanting to. Someone is finally getting the closure.

Pairing:  Steve Rogers  X Reader

Warning/s: Anger; Drunk; Vomit; Angst; Panic

Number of Words:

A/N: Hi! I know it's been a long time since I updated, but I hope people are still reading this, because I feel that this is going to end soon (I'll just finish my Bucky one-shot planned for posting maybe for this week or next week) I hope you all enjoy!

Part 1 - Part 2- Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

“Y/N’s drunk?!” Steve’s voice was so loud, Bucky pulls the earphone away from his ears.

“No need to shout, man.” Bucky retorts.

“I’m sorry. I’m— This is my fault. I never should’ve left her.”

“Steve. Calm down. You’re Y/N’s boyfriend not her guardian.” In the passenger seat, you were sleeping soundly, but your eyes were swollen. With his free hand, Bucky fixes the stray strands of hair on your face. “And this is Y/N that we’re talking about, she can handle anything… well except alcohol.”

“I should’ve punched the life out of that Tom guy.” Bucky adds.

“Tom?! Wait. What did he do to Y/N again?!” A tone of anger now present with Steve’s voice.

“I don’t know the whole story, but from what I saw, Y/N looked like she was trying hard to move on from what happened between her and Tom. And that jerk Tom… he’s... trying to win her back.” Bucky clenches his jaw and continues. “Listen, Steve. I try not to meddle between you and Y/N. But Y/N is important to me too. She was in pain, man. And I…” Bucky takes a deep breath. “ What Y/N needs right now isn’t just a best friend or a pretend boyfriend. Y/N needs something more than that…” Bucky clenches his jaw. “She needs you.”

“But Bucky. I’m not - I’m not what she wants.” The grip of Steve’s hands on his phone tightens, as his own voice echoes inside his head. I’m not what she… wants.

There was a moment of silence but Bucky finally cleared his throat. “We’ve arrived at the apartment building. I’ll just bring her to my room, buy something for her hangover on your way home.” He hangs up.

A loud thud echoed inside Steve’s office room after he threw his phone on his office table.

I’m not what she wants.

———

The warmth from Bucky’s back made your heart feel a little warm. I need to cook something for him and thank him was the last thing you thought of before you thought of before you fell asleep again.

A strange sensation coming from your stomach brings you back to your senses. It feels like something is rampaging inside your stomach, trying to come out of your body as soon as possible. But Bucky is carrying you at the moment, and you don’t really want to vomit on him (especially after all the trouble that he’s been through).

With all the strength that you can muster, you try to at least warn him. “I feel sick.”

“Can you hold on to it a little while longer?” His voice didn’t sound tired on the contrary it sounded kind and sweet, even after carrying you on his back from the car to their apartment unit. “We’re just a few steps away from our room. Alright, doll?”

“Mmhmm.” You muttered.

A few moments later, you can hear the shuffling of the keys and the sound of the door opening. Bucky’s movements were snappy. He was careful not to make you feel even more sick. He puts you down slowly in front of the toilet bowl. You position your head above the bowl to make sure that whatever comes out of your mouth will go straight into the bowl. Bucky gathers your hair and ties it in a messy bun. He also made sure to include the stray hair strands in front of your face. With his free hand, he caresses your back while you were vomiting.

With the towel that Bucky handed you, you wipe your mouth. You gargled away the aftertaste in your mouth with the glass of water that he handed you.

“I’ll just get a shirt for you to change in. Wait here, okay?” Bucky remarks.

After a few minutes, Bucky hands you a black shirt.

“Do you need help in changing?” He asks.

You tried to show him that you don’t need his help in changing and went straight to removing your grey sweater. But your right arm betrayed you and it got lost somewhere inside the sweater.

Bucky saw your struggle and chuckles. “Is it okay if I help out?”

You nod.

Bucky pulls up your sweatshirt, freeing your right hand that once was lost. He then slides the shirt in your head, and a few struggles later your arms were able to find the way through the sleeves (with the help of Bucky, of course)

You look up to him. “Thank you.”, you blurt out.

He smiles in response, and pays your head. “Any time, Y/N.” He swoops you up and carries you like a princess. “Now let’s get you to a bed.”

——-

3:11A.M.

A tap on Bucky’s shoulder wakes him from his slumber. With one lampshade on top of the bedside table as the only light source in the room, Bucky tries to find the owner of the hand. He sees Steve looking at your sleeping body. His expression while looking at you was melancholic, worried and frustrated. He’s probably blaming himself again , Bucky thought.

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice was low but it caught Steve’s attention. He had to take Steve away from his self-destructing thoughts.

“Thanks, Buck.” Steve whispered. “I can take it from here.” Steve smiled at Bucky, but it didn’t seem to reach his eye.

Bucky stands up, taps Steve on the shoulder and walks out of the room.

—-

An hour has passed but Steve hasn’t moved an inch from the chair where Bucky was once seated. The plastic bag containing a bottle of water and some medicine is resting on his lap. Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. The only time that he saw you like this was 5 years ago, soaking under the rain. 5 years ago you looked like you were in pain, but this time, you look like you were in anguish, completely burnt out. Tired of repressing your feelings, of convincing yourself that you’ve moved on… of being strong for too long.

Tom’s presence made a small crack on the walls that you’ve carefully built through the years to contain your emotions, and Steve knows that that small crack will only get bigger.

But, what right does a coward like him have? He’s just your bestfriend and pretend boyfriend. He wasn’t even able to protect you from Tom when he had the chance.

“Steve?” The sound of your voice prevents him from spiraling into his thoughts. He immediately stood up and walked closer to the bed. “Hey, Y/N. I’m here.”

Despite the pain that you’re feeling in your head, you try to adjust your position and push yourself up. Steve quickly moved to assist you. “Do you need anything?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. Thank you.”

“Here.” Steve takes out the water bottle from the plastic bag and then the medicine soon after. “I also have something you can take for your headache.”

He pulls the medicine out of its container and places it on your palm. While you were drinking the medicine, he opens the water bottle and hands it to you after seeing you reaching for it.

Silence.

Deafening silence.

That’s what took over the entire room. It only lasted for a few seconds, minutes maybe, but it felt like an hour had passed. Neither of you tried to initiate a conversation.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Time heals all wounds. That’s what people say. And you believed that. Everyday for five years, you were waiting for the day where you can finally tell yourself that you’re fully healed. You actually thought that you’re finally free from the pain. You thought that you’ve finally moved on. Only to realize that you haven’t. You just built walls around your feelings. You were just concealing your feelings.

You weren’t healing.

You were just pretending that you were healing.

All of it…

isn’t real.

The walls that you built are finally broken, and like the water from a dam, your feelings start flooding your mind. A stream of tears fall down from both your eyes and after a few seconds, you start to gasp for air.

This is the first time Steve saw you like that, every wall that you built are broken into pieces. You are vulnerable…. fragile and Steve doesn’t even know how he can get himself to hold you without breaking you.

“Steve.” You say with a voice so low and strained. With just the sound of you saying his name, all the fear and inhibitions that Steve felt a few minutes ago, just flew out of the window.

In his attempt to put together your broken pieces and to stop you from failing further apart, he pulls you in an embrace.

You tell him of that day, the day when Tom left you, and how everyday you ask yourself what you did wrong.

“I- I thought I could do it. “You whisper. “I thought I was strong enough to face him again. I mean, I tried . I really tried. I just want to - to move on. But I wasn’t moving on… I was just running away.” Steve caresses your back while you allow your head to rest on his shoulders.

“Why?!” You start to whimper. “Why does he have so much power over me?”

One sob after another, you dig yourself deeper into Steve’s chest. Steve was silent the whole time, aside from the small “shh” that you can hear from time to time whenever he tries to calm you down, His heartbeat and breathing is steady and his embrace keeps getting tighter and warmer. It’s a testament to who Steve is, he’s someone who’ll always be ready to pick up all your broken pieces and hand it to you piece per piece so you can rebuild yourself again.

Steve is here beside you, always has been.

And yet you…

“I’m sorry.” You push yourself away from Steve’s body and look him in the eye.

Steve cradles your head on the palm of his hands and wipes away the stream of tears falling from your eyes. He shakes his head in disagreement. “Y/N, you don’t have to apologize. I’m here for you, okay?”

“No, Steve. You don’t understand.” This time, it’s your turn to caress Steve’s face. “I’m sorry because I…” Tears start to fall again. “I almost left us… our friendship…” You pause and try to swallow the bitter taste of the next words that will come out of your mouth. “... for Tom.”

A thousand stabs through the chest, that was what it felt like to Steve. He knew at the back of his head if Tom didn’t leave that day, then you would’ve left him. He knew, and yet, it’s still painful to hear it coming from you. His inner thoughts and fears suddenly became a reality. A reality that he’s not even sure, he’s ready to face.

Steve takes off your hand from his face and slowly puts it down to his lap. His eyes that were once fixed into yours are now nowhere to be seen.

“I - We - don’t have to talk about this Y/N. Don’t -” He draws small imaginary circles at the back of your hand with his thumb, while still averting your gaze. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Steve squeezes your hand and you squeeze his, while you move your body closer to him.

“I know.” You take a deep breath. “It’s painful. But I have to.”

And this time, it’s your turn to pull Steve into an embrace, an embrace as tight and warm as Steve’s, an embrace that Steve didn’t know he needed. Because no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, Steve is broken too. And he’s been waiting for someone to pick up the broken pieces to help him build himself up again, and deep inside he wanted that someone to be you .

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You apologize again.

Steve tilts his head a little to stop something from falling from his eyes and breathes out the air that he didn’t realize he’s been holding on for a long time. Steve raises his hand, a few centimeters at a time to hug you back and pull you closer to him.

You smile at the gesture. “I promise I won’t leave you like that again.”

Steve smiles as well, finally allowing a tear to fall from his blue eyes.

“I promise I won’t let you.”

One door closes, two windows open.

Part 8

A/N: So, how was it?? When I started this fic a few years ago, I never meant to go down this route. This was supposed to be a light-hearted, on-the-surface level of romance, without necessarily tapping into deep human emotions. I didn't expect to use the title that way, as well (I hope some of you liked that!). Also, I'm happy that I get to write that closure for Steve, I wanted it to be done with less words spoken and just more intimacy, in a way. Hehe. That's all! In the next chapter, we might finally get a one-on-one talk with Tom, and we'll get to know why tf did she leave the reader.

FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED! Leave a comment about what you feel or what you want to see in the future chapter.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers best friend au #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers and reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers au #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader fluff #bucky barnes au #is it real? #swtltlmrvlgrl

[hitory--chan]

Day 3: Addicted To Your Touch

AO3 - Fanfiction - Wattpad

(Ranked M)

Title: The mistake of habit

It began as a mistake, then became a habit.

The generally clumsy fingers moved over him with a mastery most unknown, lighting the fire wherever it touched.

And he just wanted more of her, yearning for the contact that had been denied him during the month that he hadn't seen her.

His own hands ran down her legs, wrapping them around his waist ensured her not to slide against the wall where her back leaned.

The contact with the cloth of her dress drove him mad, wanting nothing more than to tear the damn garment that prevented him from seeing and touching her as it should be, but he knew it was necessary for him to keep composure if he didn´t wanted them to be discovered.

Instead, he concentrated on their joined lips that safeguarded them from being discovered by the symphony of moans and grunts that desperately came out of them, ending up being trapped inside the other's mouth.

Their hips met in a well-timed swing of movements where, when he came down, she rose over him until she dropped as Sasuke plunged into her.

"Hinata," he moaned her name at the first opportunity he could, when they opened a small gap between them to finally breathe “Please, please… stay with me” he begged her, desperate when the tingling in his groin increased with each passing second.

But she, as always, broke his heart when she silenced him again with a kiss at the same time that she shook her head to the request that had already become a constant between their intimate moments.

The fury and dismay her refusal provoked in him only fueled the union between their sexes to become rougher, more erratic, until they both stiffened before they withered from the abrupt release of pleasure.

A few minutes passed before he finally allowed her legs to release him so that she, still weakened and shaky, could stand up, putting on the panties that had remained dangling on her fingertips as they devoured each other.

And the moment came when he had to look away, because his heart could not resist seeing how she took from the sink the jewels that decorated her fingers, neck and ears, leaving for last the most important piece of all.

It only took a few seconds for the sound of the door opening and closing to be heard in the infinity of that luxurious bathroom that had witnessed the impure acts that both had committed.

He walked over to the same sink and turned on the faucet, wetting his face in search of relief even in the slightest way, looking at his own eyes in the mirror in front of him as the tiny drops slid from his forehead, onto his cheeks and finally they fell to the white ceramic.

He waited several minutes to fully recover, feeling destroyed in more ways than one.

He took the small towel that hung next to him and dried his hands and face, took his jacket, which had been resting on the toilet tank and fixed his bow tie, finally ready to leave that space that was beginning to oppress him. .

He left without shame or guilt, without looking sideways for anyone who saw both of them leaving the same bathroom and giving them away, actually wishing that was exactly what happened, but that empty corridor on the second floor only reminded him that the stairs had been off limits to the guests at that party, with only a few allowed to use them, just as he and she had done.

He was greeted by the sound of various chats, nothing noisy like what anyone would expect from the host, but which was totally in keeping with the occasion at hand.

With his eyes fixed on the exit, he began to walk to leave as quickly as possible, hoping not to attract attention with his abrupt departure.

“Sasuke!”

But like everything he tried that night, he failed.

Shoulders stiff with tension, he slowly turned around, facing the man who called out to him with his shrill voice.

From across the room, Naruto approached him at a moderate step, completely different from how he usually would walk, adapting to the speed of the person next to him.

“Where are you going? The party is not over yet!”

He didn't respond immediately, staring into the blue eyes of his friend before turning to the ivory ones of his mate.

"I'm sorry, I have to go" he looked at Naruto again, it being easier to look at his rough expression than Hinata's slightly frown "Something came up in the company, they called me… urgently" he excused himself with a lie, hoping that at least Naruto could be fooled with his words.

"That sucks," the blond complained, although his tone denoted understanding.

Naruto walked over, hugging him.

"We'll still meet tomorrow, right?"

Sasuke hugged him too, a little stiffer than at first.

"Of course, you idiot" he replied, his eyes still fixed on Hinata, trying not to slide his gaze down into the ring proudly shone on her left hand. "I can't let you ruin your wedding with your stupid ideas, right?"

"Great" the hug ended and Naruto slid back next to his fiancée "I really appreciate all this Sasuke”

He rejected that, looking back at Hinata and reaching out to squeeze her hand.

The electricity produced in both by any contact between them was still there, but neither of them could react accordingly.

"Congratulations on your engagement" was all he could say to her, hurt with every single word that came out of his mouth and the little "thank you" she blurted out.

Her hands released, slow, and the feeling of emptiness in him grew greater as the final light touch of their fingertips disappeared.

He said goodbye and turned around, stopping when he opened the door and turned slightly to look at them one last time, seeing them happy as they were approached by other people who congratulated them, although their eyes met again before he could not resist anymore, and left that house.

He completely ignored his car when he passed it, preferring to walk in the middle of the dark street only lit by poor yellowish streetlights and the white moonlight.

It should no longer affect him, it was suppose that the history of both had ended years ago when they agreed that their relationship was no worth anymore, when their paths divided, when he convinced her, just six months after their separation, that she should accept his friend's proposal for a date, assuring her he was completely fine with it.

How silly of him.

Now he was just a page to the left that was only read from time to time in search of something forgotten, and he could do nothing but accept that, yearning for the contract of her thin fingers over his blurry letters.

"A kitten on the roof, alone without his lady"

This one has nothing to do with the one from day 1, although probably only I relate it in my head.

I added the last phrase because in my mind, Sasuke is singing the song that Chat Noir sings in Chat Blanc

PS: Apparently I will do pure cliche and burned stories this month SH

@sasuhinamonth

#shmonth2021 #sasuhina #SasuHina Month 2021 #day 3 #Adicted To your Touch

[hopelikethemoon]

Conclusions (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Conclusions  Rating: PG-13 Length: 2100 Warnings: Angst (fear of abandonment, jumping to conclusions)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in November 1992. Shoutout to @heather-lynn​ for unintentionally convincing me to finish this.  Summary: Reader wakes up alone.

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Despite how exhausted you were every day, sleep seemed to be a rather difficult pursuit to achieve. A pursuit that seemed to evade you until those last few hours before your alarm clock went off and a new day was forced to begin. Even on the weekends, your body refused to let you get more than a handful of hours of sleep. 

Being pregnant sucked. At least you weren’t throwing up quite as frequently as you were in those first few months. 

Recently — very recently — you had discovered that Javier was pretty good at putting you to sleep. Sure, he gave a killer back massage, but his real skills came from his mouth. That first night with him hadn’t given him the opportunity to show off what his mouth could do. 

All Javi had to do was spend an hour or so between your legs, helping you crest over the edge, and in the post-orgasm haze your body finally gave in and let you relax. 

But just because he got you to fall asleep, didn’t mean the baby growing inside you would let you stay asleep. Like clockwork, somewhere around one or two in the morning you’d find yourself wide awake until you finally fell back asleep somewhere around five. It was torture. 

The sunlight streaming through your bedroom window was what started to wake you up at first. You stirred, stretching your legs out beneath the covers — seeking a cool spot to keep them as you started to roll over onto your other side.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, eyes still closed as you reached out beside you. Your heart sank as you found the bed beside you empty. 

It was the weekend. Javier always stayed over for the weekend. 

You ran your hand over the sheets beside you, finding them cool to the touch. He hadn’t been laying there for at least an hour. Maybe longer. 

Had he said something about not being able to stay? As far as you knew, he wasn’t on assignment this weekend. Javier tried his best to avoid being thrown into the field over the weekends — it was the only time the two of you could just be.

A rush of unbidden emotion flooded your senses. 

What if he had left? What if, at some point last night, he’d decided he didn’t want this. The baby. You. 

And that cut you to the core. 

Maybe you deserved it. After all, you’d been the one to leave him first. Was this how he felt the morning after? Confused. Alone.

You rolled onto your back, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in a vain attempt to forestall the tears that you felt brimming in them. You couldn’t fucking stand how emotional you were. You were never one to cry. You’d been through too much shit in your life to sit around and cry about it… but pregnancy?

Everything made you want to cry. 

But this? The sudden rush of fear that Javier had finally had enough of this bullshit, made you want to crawl into a hole and die. You could do this alone, if you had to… but you couldn’t do it in Colombia.

Knowing what it felt like to be loved by him — losing that? You weren’t going to subject yourself to the pain of having to work across an office from him. Maybe they’d let you transfer to another office stateside. 

You could go back to Atlanta, if they’d have you there. You’d left on good terms and given your situation, you’d take a shitty desk job just to stay with the agency. You’d work your way back up from the groundfloor if you had to.

The tears fell freely, trailing down over your temples and dampening your pillow just above your ears. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself to stop jumping to conclusions. But you were already mapping out a future for you and your baby that didn’t include Javier. And that brought on a fresh wave of tears. 

You could do this on your own. You didn’t need anyone. You were actually really good at living your life alone. Besides, you wouldn’t be alone if you had your daughter. You wouldn’t fail her the way you had been failed. 

Reluctantly you sat up, wiping away the tears as they slid down your cheeks. Fuck. What a shitty way to start off a Saturday — crying almost always caused you to suffer through a headache for the rest of the day.

Thanks Javier.

You frowned as your eyes flickered to the corner of the room, where Javier’s jeans had been tossed last night. They were still right there, untouched… alongside his boots. Huh. While he had plenty of pairs of extra pants stored in your dresser — he only had the one pair of boots.

Somehow you doubted he’d been in such a haste to leave that he’d fled your apartment barefoot.

You looked towards your bedroom door as you heard a shuffling sound on the other side of it, just before it was pushed open slowly and Javier popped his head through the crack. He looked surprised to see you awake, though that surprise quickly shifted into worry as he met your eyes. “Baby, have you been crying?”

“No.” You lied, wiping at your cheeks. 

“Hey…” Javier said gently as he climbed into bed with you. He reached out and took your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of them. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

You shook your head as you looked away from him, your eyes fixed on the window. “I feel like a fucking idiot.” You admitted, squeezing his hands tightly, before you pulled your hands from his grasp. “Oh my God.” You covered your face as you brought your knees towards your chest as tears started to fall anew. 

Javier hesitated at first. You couldn’t blame him for being confused. When else had he had to deal with a hormonal pregnant woman? “Baby. Baby.” He reached out, running his hand over your back before he moved to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest. 

You turned, tucking your head under his chin as you let him hold you. “I hate crying.” You complained, sniffling as you wiped away your tears as they slid down your cheeks. “I hate it.” 

“You wanna tell me why you’re crying?” He questioned, playing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your neck. 

“It’s stupid.” You admitted. “So fucking stupid.” 

“I bet it isn’t,” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

You sighed heavily, your voice wavering as you answered him. “I thought you left.” 

“What?” You felt the way he stiffened beneath you and it made your heart ache. 

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” You started, chewing on your bottom. “I immediately jumped to conclusions and assumed you left.”

“Baby, why would you think that?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You shoved him lightly in the chest, pulling back to meet his eyes. 

“All these tears are because you thought I left?” He questioned, arching a brow as he regarded you. 

“I told you it was stupid.” You pulled yourself out of his hold, trying to move away from him. “Let go, I need to pee.” 

Javier’s arms went slack around you, letting you crawl out of the bed and away from him. You ducked out the bedroom door, heading across the hall to the bathroom. 

You did need to pee, but in reality, you just wanted to escape from him. Just for a little while. 

At first, you’d thought the sleepless nights, nausea, and the constant need to pee would be the worst part of pregnancy, but in reality it was the tidal wave of emotions that constantly plagued you. Honestly, the men at work were lucky you hadn’t turned them in eunuchs over the slightest inconvenience. 

Fresh tears started falling again as you sat on the toilet. You hadn’t fully addressed just how much you were afraid of him leaving you. Sure, you’d said as much to him (maybe not in so many words) but the fear was real and ever-present. You didn’t need him, but you wanted him. You desperately wanted him to stay. 

And you still hadn’t even told him that you loved him. Those three little words still lived somewhere deep inside of you, too precious to let loose until you were positive he wasn’t going to break your heart. 

You hadn’t bothered to lock the door in your haste, which meant there was nothing preventing Javier from barrelling straight into the bathroom with you.

“Javier! Get out.” You hissed, grabbing the spare roll of toilet paper and chucking it at him. “We are not at this level yet.” 

“Baby, I held your hair up while you puked up a day’s worth of food three nights ago. You sitting on the toilet isn’t going to sour a goddamn thing.” Javier picked up the roll of toilet paper, sitting it on the sink as he knelt down beside you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.” 

You rolled your eyes, scoffing quietly as you stared down at the floor in front of you. “Don’t apologize, Javi. You’re allowed to get out of bed,” You grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped at the tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’m just being fucking emotional.” 

He reached out and gave your knee a squeeze, “Look, I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I think it’s pretty normal to be emotional, baby. Don’t beat yourself over this.” 

You clenched your eyes closed for a moment, before you finally focused your gaze on him. “I just hate how quickly I jumped to the conclusion, Javi. I didn’t even consider that you might’ve been—”

“Making breakfast for you?” Javier leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your knee, before he peeled himself up off the floor. “I thought I’d do something nice and make breakfast for you. So you didn’t have to get out of bed yet.”

You sniffled, wiping away another tear as it slid down your cheek. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast in bed, Javi.” You mumbled, chewing on your bottom lip as you felt it tremble. “Now I feel like an even bigger ass.” 

“Baby.” He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not gonna stand here and let you beat yourself up about this.” You stared at him for a long moment, before he clicked his tongue against his teeth and jerked his head towards the door. “Come on. Your tea’s gonna be cold by the time we get back out there.”

You stood up and flushed the toilet, before moving to wash your hands off at the sink. “Are you going to keep watching me?” You questioned, turning to look at him.

“Yeah. I don’t trust you not to lock the door after I walk out of here.” He gave you a pointed look. “C’mere, baby.” Javier held his arms out for you. “I’m not going to judge you for how you react. Ever.”

You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I just hated how I felt.” You admitted, looking up at him as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised you, giving your hips a squeeze as they settled there. “I promise you, you’re stuck with me.” 

“I know.” You sighed, rubbing at the spot between your brows. “Did you say you made tea?”

“You got a headache?”

“Of my own making, unfortunately.” You grumbled. “Maybe a little caffeine from the tea will help it.” 

“I made your favorite,” Javier told you with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the spot your fingers had just soothed. He pressed a second kiss to your nose and then a third to your lips. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

You shook your head slowly. 

“Good.” He cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I think we deserve a day spent in bed.” 

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I think it might do us both some good.” 

You reached down and interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing three times. How had you let yourself be so easily convinced that he was going to leave you? The way he looked at you — the way he’d always looked at you — was not the look of a man who had plans to abandon you. That sort of adoration was a once in a lifetime thing.

And you’d both been willing to wait for it. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[jalapeno-princess]

What if I never love again?

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst, Lovers to Ex’s, smut (If you are a soft Mark stan, I suggest you stay away this is a sad one) 

Warning: Intended for 18+ audience

Word Count: 9.1k

Summary: Your relationship with Mark has been on the rocks lately so you decided if it would be best to end things with him before it would get worst. Since it was your last night together, Mark wanted to make the most of it and made love to you one last time.

A/N: Based on the song “All I ask” by Adele but I got inspired by Bruno Mars’ version when writing this. I didn’t meant to get all in the feels but I hope you all enjoy!

I will leave my heart at the door I won't say a word They've all been said before you know So why don't we just play pretend Like we're not scared of what's coming next Or scared of having nothing leftLook, don't get me wrong I know there is no tomorrow All I ask isIf this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

When he walked in to your shared apartment after a long day of work, he wanted nothing more than to lie down and go to sleep. Mark was exhausted. He’s been working overtime for the last few weeks and it was taking a toll on both his mind and his body. Little did he know, it was also taking a toll on your relationship. However, although he was oblivious to the fact that your relationship was no longer what it used to be, he wasn’t surprised when he saw some of your luggage leaning up against the wall. He knew it was coming. You were leaving him, and he was aware that there was nothing he could do about it. 

The two of you have been distant for the last three months with neither of you knowing where it all went wrong. It came out of no where and no matter how much you both claimed to love each other, love was just not enough anymore. You no longer acted like a couple. If anything, your relationship felt like a chore. 

The two of you fought more often over such minuscule stuff. The dirty dishes left in the sink, him leaving the toilet seat up, not picking up after your dog Milo and no longer telling you where he was never really used to bother you. But as the days went by, simple tasks he failed to do began to frustrate you more and more. Then came the lack of intimacy. It wasn’t just the lack of sex. Sex wasn’t everything in your relationship, although whenever the two of you did make love, it was always a mind blowing experience. You and Mark were known to be very clingy. There was one point in your four year relationship where neither of you could keep your hands off of one another. Your friends had to sit in between the two of you whenever you’d have outings just to prevent the two of you from touching each other so much. These days, you’d get a kiss on the forehead if you were lucky; and what upset you, was the fact that he didn’t seem to be bothered by the distance. 

He seemed to be fine with the fact that your relationship was not what it used to be. It was common for couples who have been together for a while to be independent sometimes, but the current state of your relationship and the way it was falling apart had nothing to do with independence. Mark took a couple of seconds to breathe and take everything in before making his way in to your room. When he walked in, his eyes immediately landed on your tiny frame. It was then in that moment that he realized how much weight you’ve lost. He hated the thought of your relationship being the reason for your unhappiness. 

He stood there, watching you as you packed and he could feel his heart break with every piece of clothing you folded in to your suitcase. Once he heard you sniffle, that was it for him. 

“Hey.” You turned around in shock. You weren’t expecting him to come home so early. He had a tendency for coming home in the wee hours of the morning. That’s why you decided to start packing your things. You didn’t want to leave. You’ve been contemplating your decision for weeks now; but you could no longer stay in a relationship you weren’t happy in anymore. As much as you loved Mark and wanted things to work out between the two of you, you knew things were going to remain the same even if you were to stay. 

How could you stay when the spark was no longer there? When looking at him no longer sent butterflies to your tummy? When hearing him call your name no longer sent fire to your bones and his touches no longer sent shivers down your spine? There was no point in staying in a relationship where your hearts weren’t completely in it anymore. You didn’t know what he was feeling. Mark always had a hard time communicating his feelings. Especially when it came down to your relationship. So you could never tell what he was thinking or what exactly was on his mind. 

“Hi.” He slowly walked over to you and motioned towards your suitcase. 

“Where are you going?” Although he wasn’t one to be vocal and to speak up about things that were bothering him, you could always read him by his facial expressions. There was a hint of pain in his eyes followed by curiosity. The sight of him looking so sad broke your heart even more than it already was. Mark was a very sensitive person. You’ve seen him cry many times during the duration of your relationship. One time, the two of you were watching Moana and before you knew it, you felt something wet drip on to your shoulder. When you went to see what it was, you smirked at the sight of Mark’s eyes tearing up. His sensitivity was one of the things you loved about him. He was extremely soft, very kind with the biggest heart. 

You missed the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. As the years went by, time cruelly turned him in to a man you could hardly recognize. Although you’ve seen him cry many times, you’ve never seen him cry over you. He never really had a reason to. Everything was going so well between the two of you. You were the picture perfect couple that all your friends and even some of your family members were envious about. Hell, your mom started planning your wedding only three months after you and Mark started dating. Unfortunately, it seems that all good things come to an end and your relationship seemed to be one of them. 

“I’m leaving you.” The quiver in your voice didn’t go unnoticed to him and he felt as if someone stabbed him in the chest once those three words left your lips. It was obvious you were leaving, but he wasn’t going to let you go without knowing the reason. 

“Why?” You noticed him sink down on his knees and made his way next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him trying to reach out for you but pulling back before getting to do so. A huge part of you wanted him to pull you in to his embrace while rocking you back and forth and telling you that things were going to be okay. That he would try and fix your relationship and that he didn’t want you to go. But it was too late. The damage was done and there was nothing he could say or do to change your mind. 

“You don’t love me anymore. Our relationship isn’t the same. It’s suffocating me. I’m not happy Mark. I haven’t been happy for months and I know you haven’t been either. So why are we continuing to set fire to an already put out flame? Why are we allowing ourselves to waste our time in a relationship that practically no longer exists? We hardly ever see each other anymore and when we come home, it’s like we’re strangers. We don’t acknowledged each other’s presence, we don’t kiss, hug, hell I can’t even remember the last time we sat down and actually talked. I tried to lie to myself; couples go through rough patches all the time. It’s only natural. But this rough patch has been going on for months Mark and it doesn’t seem to bother you. It’s been killing me but you obviously aren’t phased by how we’ve been acting towards one another. I’m tired Mark. I can’t continue living like this. It’s affecting both my mental and physical health and even my work ethic. My boss threatened to fire me the other day if I didn’t get my shit together and that’s why I made the decision to leave.” 

You released a frustrated sigh before continuing where you left off from. It felt like a huge weight fell from your shoulders as you told him everything you were feeling. You couldn’t help but let a few tears fall from your cheeks. Now that Mark was there and sitting right next to you, it was finally hitting you that you were leaving him. That once you packed up all your things and left the apartment, there was no going back. Mark would no longer be in your life and the idea made you want to throw up, but there was nothing you could do. If the two of you were to continue your relationship and pretend like nothing was wrong, like you weren’t slowly dying on the inside, then you were going to lose yourself completely. 

A life without Mark was one you never wanted to live. He was your everything and you were sure that he was the man you wanted to settle down and spend the rest of your life with. Whenever you heard the word forever, Mark would always pop up in your mind. Now the word felt bitter on your lips and the longer you stayed in the same room with him, the more you felt like you would suffer a panic attack. As you were about to put one of your blouses in your suitcase, you felt Mark’s fingers wrap around your wrist, preventing you from packing away your clothes. 

“Mark—“ 

“You wore this blouse on our first date remember? I was so nervous because I wanted everything to be perfect. I still had a hard time believing that you actually wanted to date me and that you said yes. Jackson wouldn’t hear the end of it when I told him you said yes to going on a date with me. God, you looked so beautiful that night. Your hair was curled so nicely and you weren’t wearing any make up yet I felt like you were the most ethereal being I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” You didn’t even realize that he moved closer towards you until he turned you around and placed some of your hair behind your ear.

“I planned our first date out as soon as you said yes. The idea of finally making you mine after months of crushing over you felt like a dream. I didn’t know what you liked nor did I know where to take you. It was Jinyoung who reminded me that the location meant nothing. As long as I was with you, I didn’t care where we went, what we ate or what we did. But seeing that breathtaking smile of yours when you saw the picnic I set up for us at the beach made all my worries and negative thoughts disappear.” 

The memories from your first date together came rushing back like a freight train and you couldn’t help but softly giggle at the thought of his clumsy Mark was. You gave him an A for effort as he tried to impress you with corny pick up lines and he even tried to feed you because he felt like it was romantic. Unfortunately, most of the dinner he prepared ended up either on your lap or on the blanket, but you both had an amazing time nonetheless. You took this time to look up at him and your heart felt as if it was being ripped apart in to a million pieces. Were you really going to leave this beautiful man sitting in front of you? 

Even if things were no longer the same between the two of you, waking up next to him made you feel safe. Mark’s arms were your home and God, you were homesick. But you’ve been homeless for months now and even if the two of you tried to fix things, nothing would go back to the way they used to be. 

“I don’t—I can’t—where did you even get the idea that I am no longer in love with you y/n? I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately, but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. I love you with every fiber of my pathetic being. I’ve always loved you and I’m always going to love you. Fuck. I can’t ever seem to stop loving you, the love I have for you only gets stronger as the days go by. I don’t know what I would do without you. Please y/n, rethink your decision. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I know it’s probably too late, I broke you beyond repair. Look at you. You look exhausted. Broken. You’re a ghost living in your body and I’m so fucking sorry that things ended up this way. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you. I would rather die before causing you any pain but look where we are. We’re strangers and I know it’s my fault we’re like this so I know I’m the only one who can fix it. Please, please, please. Let me fix things. Let me make it work, you and I both know I’m not letting you go that easily. Tell me what I can do to stop you from leaving. I’ll do anything. I’ll quit my job, I’ll drop all my friends, I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to make you happy again and to fix our relationship. I’m not losing you y/n. Please baby, give us one more chance. You’re my person y/n, I love you.” 

Your mind was so clouded up with his words that you failed to notice him pull you on to his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in to your neck. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed the feeling of his warm embrace. You missed being held by him, being adored by him, being protected by him, being loved by him. His words were affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. This is why you decided to pack before he came home because you knew there was no way you’d be able to leave if he asked you to stay. If he had the right words to promise you that things would get better, then you would stay. 

Hearing him bring up your first date made this entire situation more difficult for you. He still cared, that you know was true. If he no longer cared, he wouldn’t have remembered what you wore that day nor would he have reminisced on that day in it’s entirety. Hearing him sniffle against your neck sent an unsettling sensation to your chest and you hated that you were doing this to him. However, he needed to feel the pain and the suffering you went through in these last few months. When he felt you place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, he was confident that you were going to give him another chance. That was until you got up from his lap and returned back to folding your clothes. 

“So that’s it? You’re going to disregard my words, disregard my feelings and the fact that I want to work things out? I don’t want anybody but you y/n. If you leave me tonight, I promise you I’m going to give up on love completely. There’s no point in being in love if it’s not with you. Are you really going to let four years, some of the best years of both our lives go down the drain? You claim that you still love me, but you’re ripping my fucking heart out and stepping on it in front of me like it means nothing to you! Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me that you’re fine being without me. That breaking up with me is what you think is best for us, then I’ll let you go. If you can honestly tell me that you no longer care for me or have any feelings for me, then there’s nothing I can do about it. But I know you. I know every little thing about you. I know you like the back of my hand y/n. Fuck, I know you better than I know myself.” 

He hesitantly stepped towards and when he noticed you weren’t moving away from him, he continued. “I know you’re unhappy. So am I. You don’t think I haven’t noticed we aren’t what we used to be? The distance fucking sucks y/n and I hate that I don’t know when, why or how we even got like this but that doesn’t matter. I’m sorry you’re so sad, and I’m sorry I’ve been a shit boyfriend. You deserve nothing but happiness y/n. You’re not going to find it if you were to leave. I don’t mean to sound narcissistic, but you need me just as much as I need you. If it’s time and space that you need, then I’ll give it to you. But please, don’t give up on us. Don’t give up on me. I love you. I love you so fucking much baby. Please.” 

You were practically a mess at this point. The tears were running down your face like a dam and you had no intentions on wiping them away. Every word that fell from his lips felt like a punch to the face and before you could even process your actions, your lips were on his. This kiss was rough, as soon as he came to the realization of what was happening, he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to his chest as possible. It felt amazing. 

The two of you haven’t kissed like this in months and it felt like your entire body was in flames. He licked and sucked on your bottom lip while grazing his thumb against your hip bone. The moans and soft curses that fell from his lips sent warmth directly to your core and you were mad at yourself for letting lust take over you. But if this was going to be your last night together, you wanted to make the most of it. 

“Mark.” He continued smashing his lips against yours while biting on your lip, asking for entrance and hummed in curiosity to get you to continue. “I’m still leaving you.” You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt when he pulled away abruptly, but you couldn’t blame him. It was you who initiated the kiss, so it was understandable that he was confused to hear that the kiss didn’t mean what he hoped it did. 

“Then why the fuck would you kiss me? You’re leading me on and made me think that you’re giving us another chance only to tell me that the kiss meant nothing? What the fuck did I do to hurt you so badly that you turned in to this emotionless version of yourself? Is this what you want? You want me to suffer don’t you? How many times do I have to apologize and beg for you to put some thought in to this? I’m not playing around y/n. You better tell me what you want now, or I’ll leave you to it.” You took in his angry expression and shivered at the sight. In the many years that you’ve known him for, Mark wasn’t one to get upset all too often. 

Since he was very soft spoken, he never made it known that something was bothering him. However, he was bad at hiding his facial expressions. One look in his eyes and you knew he was pissed off. There was one occasion where his friend BamBam crashed his motorcycle, his most prized possession and although he told the younger boy that it was okay, you knew by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched that he was outraged. You reached out for his arm and winced when he yanked it away from you. 

“Don’t you dare act like the victim here and try to pretend that you didn’t just fuck me over. I got it already y/n. We’re over. We’re done! Fine! That’s what you want, I have to learn to accept it but stop saying one thing and doing another. It’s not fair for either of us. Okay? I wish you the best with your life and I’m always going to love you. Don’t you ever forget that.” Before he could walk out that door, you gently called out his name. 

“I don’t want to leave you.” He released a frustrated sigh but stayed in his place, as if he wanted to hear the rest of what you had to say. 

“Y/n please don’t start—“ 

“I mean it. I don’t want to leave you Mark.” He turned around to face you and crossed his arms to prevent himself from reaching out to you. He didn’t know what you were thinking. Mark could read you like an open book. He knew when you were tired, hungry, bored, he knew when someone said something that upset you and he knew when you were about to cry. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to read you or your body language as of right now so he didn’t know what your next move would be. He wasn’t sure whether or not to put his guard up. 

“Then don’t.” You let out a sarcastic chuckle that sent a chill down his spine. It was obvious that you were no longer the happy-go-lucky college freshman he fell in love with all those years ago and he hated this cold person you turned in to. 

“If only it was that easy. If I had another choice, do you really think I would’ve packed up all my things with the intent of leaving? I’ve contemplated this for weeks Mark. It wasn’t an overnight decision. I had to write down the pros and cons of leaving. There were more pros then cons. I’m not myself anymore Mark. I have to leave you to find myself again. Okay? Maybe one day, if the universe feels like we are meant to be together, then we’ll find each other again. I have no doubt in my mind that you and I are soulmates. We need to live without each other to realize just how much we need one another.” 

He brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose and pinched it out of frustration. You were right. The only way the two of you would be okay again is if you spent time apart in order to realize you can’t be without the other person. “Fine. If that’s what you feel will help bring us together again, then I just have to go along with it. But if I go along with your wishes, you have to go along with mine.” He motioned for you to walk over to him and immediately pulled you back against his chest. “I want you hold me. Hold me as tightly as you can. Like you’re never going to let me go. Like I’m not going to wake up to an empty bed to—tomorrow morning.” Hearing his voice crack as he came to the realization that this was actually happening was heartbreaking. You squeezed him as hard as you could and left chaste kisses all around his face. 

The two of you stood there holding each other for what felt like hours. You wanted to hold him and be held by him for as long as time permitted you to do so. However, as you were about to continue your ministrations, he gently gripped your chin and lowered your face so that you were eye level with him. 

“I want to make love to you tonight. Is that okay?” You nodded quickly and he didn’t hesitate to pick you up by the back of your thighs and hoisted you up against his knee. He began to attack your collarbone with his lips all the while guiding you on top of the bed. He brought his knee in between your thighs and the feeling of the rough material from his dress pants against your core sent shivers down your spine. 

Mark started to run his hand back and forth along your thigh and continued to grind himself against your clothed entrance in order to get any sort of friction against his growing erection. His lips were hot against yours and his tongue was roughly attacking every corner in your mouth. He made it aware that he was definitely not going easy on you tonight. Mark wasn’t sure when he would be able to have you like this again, or if he would ever be able to love on your body like this again, so he wanted to make a memory the two of you would never forget. 

“Tell me what you want y/n.” You let out a wanton moan as he dragged his fingers agonizingly slow along your soaking folds. 

“You, I want you.” To your dismay, he stopped his movements altogether and softly caressed your cheek. 

“But you’re leaving me.” You were sure that the way he was looking at you, with tears forming in his eyes like a child who just got their favorite toy taken away from them was going to stay in your mind forever. 

“Mark, please don’t start.” He released a frustrated grunt before lowering himself on top of you and kissing you all around your face. 

“I’m sorry. Let me give you a reason to stay baby.” Mark was quick to remove your shirt and his fingers unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere across the room. “Such pretty titties. How did I go so long without them?” You giggled softly before your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head once he brought one of your breasts inside of his mouth. Breast play was one of your favorite parts of sex and Mark was always so generous when it came to loving on your beautiful mounds. His mouth was warm against your nipple, licking and swirling around the hardened bud while he pinched and twisted your other nipple with his fingers. Your hands absentmindedly made their way in to his hair, gently tugging on it the longer he spent sucking on your breasts. 

“Mmm—so good. Please don’t stop.” He continued his ministrations and you were so focused on him playing with your tits that you failed to notice his hand leave your nipple and make it’s way down to your clit. Feeling him pinch and flick your nub sent a pleasurable sensation to your core and you couldn’t help but release a breathy moan at how good it all felt. He yanked off both your pants and your underwear while he brought his fingers in to your cunt and began to pump them at a rough pace, not giving you any time to adjust or get comfortable. His fingers felt so good in your tight and velvety walls and you were sure by the way it felt and from past experiences that you could come by just his fingers alone. But that’s not what you wanted. 

If this was under different circumstances, you would want him to take time loving on your body like he used to. However, you needed to be one with him. You wanted him inside of you. Mark made it obvious that he had his plans of how tonight was going to go with the way he was taking control of everything but you wanted to do things your way. 

“Mark—as good as this all feels—mmm fuck—I need you inside of me. Now.” He pulled himself away from your chest and left a few kisses there before reconnecting your lips together but his fingers still had yet to leave your folds. 

“I want that too baby, but you have to be patient. I want to have you in all the ways that I possibly can. I’m going to eat this pretty pussy of yours, you’re going to choke on my dick as I force it down your tight little throat and then I’ll fuck you like my life depends on it. Got it?” You found yourself nodding at his command only because he sounded so sexy whenever he was rough and dominant with you. As he made his way down to your core, he started leaving wet, sloppy kisses all along your body and even began to make his mark with a couple of hickeys here and there. He ran his fingers alongside your hips and soon you felt his hot breath against where you needed him the most. To your dismay, he began to tease you, biting on the inside of your thighs and massaging them while kissing just about your clit. 

You knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you wanted to shove his head against your entrance so that he could relieve the burning sensation that was building in your tummy, you knew not to stop him from what he was doing. After a few moments of taking his time in dragging his hands along the lower half of your body, he finally licked a stripe along your folds earning himself a soft moan. An adorable chuckle fell from his lips as he began to eat you out like this was his last meal and the feeling made you wrap your legs around his neck. His pace was rough as he brought his tongue up and down your folds while nibbling and sucking on your clit. 

Mark was always extremely generous whenever it came to eating you out. He knew your likes, your dislikes, what could make you scream and squirm to his liking. He did whatever he could to make you sing for him. Knowing he would get you to be more vocal by doing so, he shoved his two fingers back inside of you while continuing to lick and suck on your folds. The sensation was mind blowing and you wanted him to both stop, and to go faster. Feeling you tug on his hair as he continued loving on your soaking pussy made him go even faster. One of Mark’s biggest weaknesses was hair pulling. Whenever you’d pull on his soft, curly locks as a way to control your burning desire, the sensation would send chills down his spine. 

It was obvious that you were close, your throaty moans and the way you were looking at him was proof enough that you were close to losing it and Mark took that as a sign to go all in. “M—Mark. Oh my God Mark—just like that. Your tongue and your fingers feels so good—I’m so close. Please—I want to come so badly.” Right as you felt him moan against your clit, you were releasing all over his tongue and screaming out in pleasure as he lapped up all of your juices. He took a few more moments sucking you clean before making his way back up to you and brought his fingers up to your mouth. 

“Open. Now suck. You naughty little girl. Tell me how it tastes. So fucking good right? My pretty princess, are you ready to choke on me now? You made me hard just by those sounds you were making as I ate you out. Did it feel good? I need words baby.” You sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could, tasting yourself on top of them and releasing them from your mouth with a loud pop. 

“So good. It felt and tasted amazing. You’re always so good to me Mark. I missed having your fingers inside of me. Let me take care of you now.” He didn’t even have to respond before you stole a sloppy kiss from the corner of his mouth and made your way down to your knees. Even from the beginning of your relationship, you always preferred giving head over receiving it. As good as Mark was to you whenever he went down on you, you loved the feeling of having his dick shoved down your throat. It was hard to explain, but you were sure having him get all rough and dominant with you was one of your biggest turn ons. Plus, hearing him grunt and groan about how good your mouth felt while he forced himself deeper down your throat always made you wet. You unzipped him from his pants and pulled them from his legs as quickly as you possibly could. 

Since it’s been so long since you’ve had him like this, you were eager to have him back in to your mouth again. A part of you wanted to tease him, you loved getting a rise out of him by only touching and stroking him because you knew how desperate he was to fuck your mouth. But this time was different. Knowing it was your last night together, you didn’t want to waste one minute of it doing unnecessary things. You placed a kiss against his clothed dick and palmed him for a few seconds just to give yourself a moment to breathe. Finally, you pulled him out of the constraints of his underwear and you couldn’t help but drool at the sight of his painfully hardened and extremely red cock. 

Mark was extremely well endowed. He was both long and thick, and although you were a firm believer that penises were extremely ugly, something about Mark’s would always make your mouth water. There were times where he had you beg to suck on his cock or to give him a hand job only because he knew how much you’d crave for it. You were quick to take it in your hand and licked a stripe against the slit earning you a soft moan. Then you began to circle your tongue around the tip knowing just how much Mark enjoyed it. You ran your thumb in between the slit as you began to lick stripes along the sides of his shaft and spit on it so it was lubricated enough to make it easier for you to pump him. As you began to bring your hand up and down his length, you looked up at him and licked your lips at the sight of him biting his bottom lip. The facial expressions he’d make while you’d suck him off were always so sexy. You continued to pump him although you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. 

“Baby—baby please. I need your mouth—let me—let me fuck your pretty mouth—ah shit.” Hearing Mark beg wasn’t something you weren’t used to. He would always beg if the situation called for it. As much as he hated being submissive, only because he loved being the one in control, he loved seeing you get rough and taking the lead sometimes. Finally after what felt like forever, you took as much of him as you possibly could in to your mouth while fondling with his balls. You could feel his tip touch the back of your throat and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. His veins were throbbing against the sides of your cheeks and you brought your hands up to his thighs to support you as you continued your ministrations. The constant moans and curses that fell from his lips as you continued to bob your head back and forth sent warmth to your core. You loved getting to please Mark in any way that you could and hearing him admit how good your mouth felt made you mentally giggle. 

“F—Fuck. Your mouth y/n—holy shit. So wet—so warm—so tight—I’m gonna Fuck the shit out of your face now, is that okay?” The hum against his cock caused him to release a content sigh and before you knew it, his hands were at the base of your hair, tying a makeshift ponytail so that he could have a letter grip on your long locks. He didn’t give you much time to prepare yourself as he began to shove his cock down your throat even deeper than you were already taking him. You couldn’t help but choke on it, the force was too much for you to handle but you didn’t want him to stop. 

You continued to bob your head back and forth against him while sinking your nails in to the back of his thighs. His speed was relentless, it’s as if he was taking out all his anger and frustration from the thought of you leaving him on your mouth. He yanked your ponytail and pulled you off of him, making eye contact with you and you shivered at his animalistic he looked. 

“My beautiful little cockslut, how does it feel having my big cock shoved down this pretty little throat? It feels so fucking good to me. You’re so good at sucking me off baby. You look so pretty like this, so dirty. I wanna see something real quick.” Before you could ask him what he meant, he brought his finger back down to your clit and rubbed at your folds all but gently. “You’re soaking angel. Sucking my dick got you this wet? You love sucking me off don’t you? Look at me y/n. Look at me while I fuck this dirty mouth of yours.” He brought himself back in to your mouth and glided his hips full force till his tip was grazing your uvula. Seeing him throw his head back at how good you were blowing him was such a beautiful sight. You loved seeing the look of pleasure on Mark’s face as you sucked him dry. 

All too soon, you felt his warm, creamy liquid filling up your mouth and you did your best to milk him for everything he had. Once you were done, he pulled you up from off the ground and roughly brought your lips to his. “You are so fucking perfect y/n. God, what am I going to do without you?” You cupped his cheek and grazed his nose with your thumb. Although he just finished face fucking you, his worried and melancholic tone made your heart hurt. No matter how much fun you were having and how much you would miss being intimate with him; hell, just missing him in general, you had to leave him. It’s what you felt the two of you needed. Instead of allowing him to continue to make you feel guilty of breaking his heart, you pushed him down on the bed and removed his dress shirt; moaning softly to yourself when you saw his defined chest and growing six pack. 

It was obvious that the two of you haven’t had sex in a while, he was still working on getting more built the last time you had him writhing underneath you. Now, you were screwed. His arms were definitely bigger and you were excited to have him pin you down with his more toned biceps. But before you’d allow him to be on top, you wanted to give him a little treat of his own. “Let me ride.” He groaned when you got on top of his lap and hovered over him. Cowgirl was one of your favorite positions because you loved the feeling of bouncing up and down Mark’s cock and with the way he would hide himself in the crook of your neck to prevent himself from being too loud made it aware to you that he was just as much a fan as you were. 

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before sitting right on top of his extremely hardened erection. To Mark’s dismay, you began to tease him, grinding yourself back and forth along his length but not doing anything to help the painful feeling of wanting more. His hands made their way down to your waist and he gripped gently, helping guide you back and forth before whispering gentle threats in to your ear. “Keep teasing me and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the week princess. I’m going to fuck the living shit out of you, that’s a promise.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at how vulgar his words were and you finally did the both of yourselves a favor by guiding him to your entrance. 

You brought him along your folds to lubricate him enough before finally sinking on top of him. The two of you moaned in sync at how delicious the stretch felt. It’s been so long since he’s been in you and Mark considered calling himself a born again virgin. Your walls clenched around him and the older boy felt embarrassed because he was sure that he was going to come before actually getting to move. In between your thighs was Mark’s favorite place to be and he felt overwhelmed by how tight you were. 

“Fuck—shit—shit—I’m going to need you to do something baby—move y/n—move! Ahhh—just like that princess. Bounce on me—mmmmm.” You began to bounce on his cock at such a quick pace you’d give jack rabbits a run for their money. The sound of skin on skin slapping echoed throughout the room alongside of both your moans, whines and cusses of how good it felt fucking each other. Your ass clapped against his thighs as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust. Mark was a power bottom, even if you were on top he’d never let you do anything by yourself. He pinched and slapped at your ass while bringing one of your breasts in to his mouth and harshly sucking on it. His name fell off your lips like a mantra, you couldn’t get over how amazing this all felt. 

His fingers began to twist at your nipple while he began to bring the other one in between his teeth. Your hands made their way in to his hair, gently tugging at his scalp and you continued gyrating your hips against his. To your dismay, you felt Mark grabbing at your ass and lifting you up from off of his lap. He knew you were going to ask him what he was doing, so he flipped you over and tossed you on the bed while connecting your lips together. 

“I’m so fucking close and we’ve only been at this for fifteen minutes. I refuse to come in such a short amount of time and when I do come inside this pretty pussy of yours, I wanna see your face while I do it. Fuck, I will never get over how huge and beautiful your tits are. I would suck on them all day if I could. But now, now I want to fuck your brains and blow your back out. Ready for me baby?” You nodded quickly against his neck and he took no time to line himself up at your entrance before entering you and filling you up to the hilt. You hid your face in his chest and bit down on your hand to prevent yourself from screaming out at how erotic this all was, but he yanked your hand from out of your mouth and growled. 

“So fucking tight—don’t hide those pretty sounds baby. Let everyone know whose fucking you this good. Scream my name y/n. Let the neighbors know who this pussy belongs to.” His pace was rough and very quick as he began to bury himself inside of you. The headboard started to hit up against the wall and you were sure you’d be hearing complaints and knocks against the walls pretty soon with how loud the two of you were being. He brought your legs up on to his shoulders because he knew he could hit you deeper in this position. His cock felt so good against your core with each and every thrust and he brought his finger up to your clit, flicking and pinching at your already swollen nub. 

“M—Mark—holy shit Mark—mmmmm—so big—so good—faster please—I need you to go faster.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. His balls began to hit the back of your ass and you couldn’t help but to scratch his back in response to how insane it was driving you. Sweat was building up on both of your bodies and the room wreaked of sex. He started to pepper your face with kisses and smiled at you gently causing your heart to flutter. To your confusion, he motioned for you to drop your legs and brought himself deeper in to your thighs. He reached up at your hands and intertwined while slowing down his pace. 

“Y/n.” You didn’t want to make eye contact with him because you knew you would tear up if you were to look at him, but you found yourself staring up at him anyway. He brushed back some of your hair and left a chaste kiss on your lips before gazing at you. The animalistic look in his eye was no longer there. It was now softer, more gentle and you could’ve sworn you saw a tear fall from his cheek. 

“I love you. With every single bone and breath in my body. For today, tomorrow and I’m sure the rest of my life, I will love you and only you. Please—please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you. You’re the reason for my existence, you’re the cause of the smile on my face. My heart, it only beats for you. I love you—I love you—so fucking much—I love you.” With each and every thrust, confessions of love and pleas to not leave him fell from his pretty lips. His eyes never left yours once and the only time he let go of your hand was to wipe the tears that came down the longer the two continued to relinquish in what was left of your love. With the way his cock was throbbing in between your legs, you knew he was close and you weren’t too far away. He connected your lips together and before you knew it, you were being filled with his cum. 

“Come on baby, let go for me.” His words alone brought you to sheer ecstasy and you were releasing not too long after him. He plopped himself on top of you and the two of you just laid there in silence, just basking in the other’s presence. His heartbeat was loud against your chest and you were sure he could hear yours too. He ran his fingers through your hair and left soft kisses among it. After lying with each other for a few moments, Mark decided the two of you were in desperate need of a shower. 

“God, I will never get over how beautiful you are. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Let’s get you cleaned up baby.” In Mark’s words, “lets get you cleaned up” meant another round in your shower. He had you up against the wall while he fucked in to you from behind and once you were done, he took you up against the fridge and on top of the couch. If this was going to be your last night together, he was going to make the most of it. The two of you were exhausted after hours of passionate and extremely steamy love making so Mark helped you change in to one of his shirts and tucked you in to bed before finishing getting himself ready to go to sleep. 

The tears were hot on your cheeks as you waited for him to join you. Is this how it was going to be without him? The bed was  cold and empty and so was your heart. Could you really live without him? When he finally rejoined you in bed, he was quick to pull you against his bare chest and wrapped his arms around your lower back. He smashed his cheek against yours and released an exasperated sigh. “Stay with me tonight, please.” You hesitantly nodded before placing a light kiss on his chest. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, my sister offered me to live with her until I find a place of my own.”

“You don’t have to do this you know, you could stay. I can fix this. We can be okay again—“ the soft pinch on his bicep told him otherwise. 

“Can we pretend like none of this is happening and just hold each other and talk—“

You were quick to pick up on the way his brows were furrowing and how he let go of your waist in order to clench his fist. He sighed heavily before interrupting you, the anger in his voice sent chills down your spine. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to pretend like nothing’s wrong y/n? You’re leaving me! You’re not giving us a chance! You’re running away from your problems, from me. Am I supposed to be all happy, sunshine and rainbows when you’re breaking my fucking heart? No way. Let’s be real here y/n. Once you leave, there’s no turning back. We will never be the same. We’ll be strangers again. Like we didn’t plan out our lives together. Like you aren’t the one I plan on spending the rest of my life with. It’s like I mean nothing to you. Like the last four years of our relationship meant nothing to you.” 

Hearing him choke on his words again made your heart hurt. Mark was always the strong one in your relationship. Although he was sensitive, he hardly ever cried in front of you because he never wanted to seem weak. He’s admitted to you that he would cry after the two of you would argue, but not once have you ever seen him cry in front of you. You lovingly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He must’ve had the same mindset as you and pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind. 

“Can we—still be friends?” He gave you a knowing look while shaking his head. 

“You and I both know there’s no way we can be just friends. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not when I still have feelings for you and I probably always will. How am I supposed to look at you and resist the urge to want to pull you in my embrace and kiss you with everything I have? There’s no way. I’m sorry. If I can’t have you in my life as my girlfriend, then there’s no point of having you at all.” He grazed your cheek with his thumb. “Do you really think this is the end for us y/n? Do you not see yourself spending the rest of your life with me like I do with you?”

“Of course I do Mark. All I want and could ever want is you. Everything we planned for ourselves, our future, the house with a big yard and our kids running around, I want all of that. I just need some time. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” He placed his chin on your shoulder and left a soft kiss there. 

“We don’t have much time left together. Let’s make the most of it shall we?” The two of you stayed up for a few hours reminiscing on your time together and updated each other on what was going on in your lives that the other didn’t know about. Since both you and Mark were spent from making love to one another, it didn’t take him long to fall asleep. You however, decided to take this time to adore Mark while you still could. You brought your fingers up to his face and traced his features as softly as you could in fear of waking him up. Mark was a sight for sore eyes. He was breathtakingly handsome and the fact that he was extremely kind, generous and golden hearted made him all the more attractive than he already was. 

You wish things could be different. If only your mind would allow you to believe that he was going to change. That things would be different but deep down, you knew there was a huge chance he was all talk. He would treat you right and make things better, but it wouldn’t last long. Your heart could no longer handle this rollercoaster you called a relationship. 

After being selfish and taking as much time as you could in his arms, you tried your best to take his arm off of your waist without waking him. Then you grabbed a pair of sweats and made your way in to the bathroom to change, not wanting to make a sound and end up waking the sleeping figure you were trying to get away from. You debated on whether or not you should change out of his shirt, you knew you would end up crying every time you were to look at it but you decided to keep it. You loved Mark’s smell, it was addicting. Just as you were finished, you snuck back in to the room and began to write him a quick note and placed it on your pillow then you went to his side of the bed and placed a long kiss on his lips. 

“I love you so much Mark. You’re mine and I’m yours. Never forget it.” You took one more look at him and forced yourself to hold back your sobs. Your adorable little puppy Milo came running towards you when he noticed you making your way towards the door with all your bags. You knelt down and playfully ruffled his fur. “I’m going to miss you Mai. Take care of daddy for me would you?”

When Mark woke up the next morning to a more vacant bed, he began to panic although he knew there was a huge chance that you left already. That’s how you were, whenever you put your mind to something, you always went through with it. Breaking up with Mark was no different. He allowed the tears and his muffled cries to fill up the room as he began to scream in to his pillow. Why did he have to fall asleep? He could’ve stopped you if he tried a little harder. It was in the moments where he was throwing his fists around that he felt something crunch under the sheets. He picked up your note and his sobs only got louder as he began to read what you had to say.

My dearest Mark,

If you’re reading this, I have already taken my things and left. We’ll find each other again one day and until then, live your best life and take care of yourself. I’m sorry things had to end this way, but I needed to do this for myself. Just because I’m leaving you doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. Don’t you ever question my love for you okay? I love you more than you will ever know.

Forever yours,

Y/n

They say if you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, then it’s yours forever. If not, then it was never meant to be.

Let this be our lesson in love Let this be the way we remember us I don't wanna be cruel or vicious And I ain't asking for forgiveness All I ask isIf this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

#got7 imagines #got7 mark #mark tuan #mark tuan got7 #got7 #got7 angst #mark tuan angst #got7 smut #mark tuan smut #mark tuan imagines

[voltagesmutter]

Victor - Pudding

Just pure Victor fever

No smut but suggestive

4000 words of pure love

You sighed, admiring the stunning bouquet of flowers on your desk as you opened the black box, a diamond encrusted necklace sent sparkles through your eyes. You shut the box and placed it on your desk, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“Another sorry present?” Anna asked, leaning over and looking inside the box, a gasp coming from her mouth, “Dear god this man knows how to say sorry,”. 

“This is the third time this month Anna,” You sigh, “My husband shouldn’t be apologising by sending gifts and priceless jewellery,”. You take the necklace box and push it into your bag to keep it safe. Taking your phone you hit the 3rd speed dial button for Goldman, you best believe you have him on speed dial.

“Hello?”.

“Heya Gold’s it me! Look I need a favour,”.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” He mumbles under his breath.

“Look can you just tell me if Victor’s schedule is busy now or if he’s free please?”. A few clicks come from the other side of the phone.

“No, he should be finishing up a meeting now, want me to keep the rest of the afternoon free for you?” He says.

“Yes, thank you Gold’s, you're a gem I'll tell Victor to bump you up a few zeros,” You laugh and hear him laughing down the phone. You knew how much he was paid, he was paid a hefty amount for his work. Grabbing your bag, you angrily storm up to Victor's office, determined to give him a piece of your mind. You smile at his receptionist, her giving you the nod that his office was empty and you push open the doors slamming them behind you.

You look as your husband sits at his desk, buried into stacks of paperwork, a stern look on his face. His cologne hit your nose instantly, it was the same as always but something about it today made you almost drool. Your chest began to rise at a heavy pace as you watched him, he still didn’t look up at you.

“You just going to stand there dummy?” He chuckles as he finally looks up and makes eye contact with you. You don’t know what is was but something about him felt different today, you just wanted to climb into his lap and ride him until you was both spent. You couldn’t even remember what you came up here for, all you knew right now was you had to have him. You hurried make your way to him, undoing your shirt as you make your way to his lap, a slightly blush on his face.

“Whats all this about?” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as you placed kisses against his neck.

“Can’t a wife just come and give her husband some much needed love and attention?” You purr, running your hand down to palm him over his trousers. He lets out a low growl and spend the next hour embracing each other's bodies.

“What was that all about?” Victor heavily pants, leaning back in his chair, holding you close to him,

“I came up here angry at you, Victor. You don’t need to keep sending me gifts when you have to cancel our dates, I just want some time with you is all,” You pout, your husband taking your left hand and rubbing his hand over your wedding ring.

“I’m sorry, I just feel so guilty about it, I hate not being able to spend time with you,” He whispers, pressing kisses to your forehead. 

“Do you know what will make it up to me?” You hum. You know he already knows what your thinking of. Pudding.

“I promise I will make you a pudding when we get home, but you have to be patient okay,” He presses a soft kiss to your nose and you look up at him with your bambi like eyes. 

“Victor,” You breathlessly whisper, giving him that look.

“Again? Did I not satisfy you my love,” He grins, pushing you backwards onto his desk. 

That night Victor kept his promise and made you pudding but he wouldn’t let you have it until the next day, claiming there was too much sugar for you to consume that late at night. He even had the audacity to hide it on the top shelf of the fridge where you couldn’t reach it. Pouting after your failed midnight snack adventure you climbed back into bed, sleeping Victor embracing you in his arms.

“Couldn’t reach the pudding could you,” He mumbles against your neck making you giggle.

“I’m literally craving it Vic, like I need it,” You whine and he chuckles against your neck, him arm holding you close to him.

“Such a dummy, so pouty over pudding,” As he presses soft kisses to the back of your neck making you hum against him.

“Victor don’t,” You whine, turning in his arms as his eyes open slowly to look into yours.

“What's up,” He whispers against your lip, his arm around you drawing small circles over your waist. You run your fingers through his arm, your nose rubbing against his.

“I’m feeling really sensitive, if you start doing that I won’t be able to keep my hands off you,” Feeling the arousal within you kicking in again. You felt like when you and Victor first got together, purely unable to keep your hands off of him. 

“Are you telling me after all that in the office you still want more?” A light smirk on his face.

“I honestly feel like I could go all night,” You giggle, a very very poor choice of words. You didn’t get to sleep a wink that night, Victor ravishing your body with his hands, mouth and body all night. Thank god it had been a friday. You were finally able to get some sleep as dawn was breaking through, you slipping into a peaceful slumber. 

The aroma of breakfast and the sizzling sound wafter into the bedroom, stirring you from your sleep. You drifted into the kitchen, almost like a cartoon character whose feet didn’t touch the floor as you enter into the room. Greeted by your husband as he stood shirtless, fixing up something in the kitchen. You stopped to admire the sight, the red scratches over his back from your previous session this morning, he was just breathtaking.

“Are you going to keep staring or come help?” He teases, flashing you a smile. He opens a packet of meat as you make your way over but the smell hits you with a wave of nausea, your face going green. 

“You okay?” Victor asks, noticing the colour draining from your face but you shake your head and run to the bathroom, violently spewing. You can hear Victor pacing outside the bathroom, he wasn’t good with illness. 

“Bella?” His voice is full of worry as he knocks on the door after a few minutes.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” You manage, gripping the toilet bowl once more as you feel yourself retching up. You clean yourself up after a few minutes later, before leaving to see Victor sat on the edge of the bed, worry plastered over his face. As soon as he saw you he stood up, pressing a hand to your head as if checking your temperature.

“I’m fine, honestly, the smell just made me queasy,” You reassure him.

“Is it… you know,” His face flustered and he rubs the back of his neck, “That time?”. He got so embarrassed over your womanly issues, the day you had to ask him to go to the shop and buy you pads was a day you would never forget. He was too embarrassed to ask for help in the shop so he brought multiple brands and sizes, returning home with a red glow over his cheeks. 

“No, no, you should know after yesterday!” You tease with a giggle until you stop. 

“What?”.

“Bella what?”. You stand there for a few moments, blinking in silence, trying to work something out. You run to your bedside draw, you take out your container holding your birth control and check over it, each one taken… all except one that you had missed two months ago. You take out the little notebook you kept with it, feeling the bed dip down beside you, Victor looking confused at what you were doing. You trace through the past few months, your last period was well over a month late and you drop everything. 

“Bella, will you talk to me?” Victor asks once more, he had been asking you but you sat there in stunned silence trying to piece everything together.

“I-... I missed a pill over a month ago…” You manage, your face still dumbstruck. 

“That's fine?” Victor chuckles, taking your hand, not realising what you was suggesting.

“And I haven’t had my period…”. There's silence as the penny drops. Your heart races as you turn to face Victor, his face matching your stunned one from moments ago. 

“Please… please don’t be mad, it was an accident, I didn't-” You start, feeling tears in your eyes. Victor shuts you up with a deep kiss, pulling you close to him.

“We might have had a baby?” He smiles, running his hands through your hair. You nod, “You dummy, how, why, why would you even think I would be mad?”.

“Its just- we haven’t spoken about it before, I thought you might be upset,” Your eyes looking up to meet his loving gaze, a warm smile on his lips.

“Your my wife, I love you, of course I want children with you, this… this is everything,” He softly cradles your face with his hand. He leans down and kisses you deeply with passion, your loving husband almost bursting with happiness at the fact you could be pregnant. He pushed you down to the bed, beginning to undo your shirt when the smell of smoke rose and a sharp beeping noise filled the house. 

“Shit,” Victor drops you from his hold and runs out into the kitchen, both of you forgetting the breakfast that was cooking. The smell makes you queasy again and you dash once more into the bathroom.

“I can’t believe you burnt the food, I’ve never seen you burn anything!” You tease, sitting cross legged on the sofa, a big smile on your face as you tuck into your pudding finally.

“I can’t believe your eating pudding this early in the day,” He chuckles back.

“I told you!” You pouted, “I’m really craving it,”.

“Just because you're pregnant, this doesn’t mean you can have pudding all the time,” He makes his way to sit in front of you on the floor, taking one of your hands preventing you from ravishing your food.

“Might,” You emphasise. You didn’t want to get your hopes up too much, just in case it’s not true. 

-

Victor had been called on an urgent business call for two weeks the following day after your initial pregnancy realisation.

“I’m not going,” He protested, throwing the clothes out of the suitcase you were packing.

“Victor! It’s important, you need to go!” Repacking everything he was throwing out.

“What’s important is you, that maybe you're carrying our baby,” His hands moving to press against your stomach. You were about to head out and get a pregnancy test when his phone rang, informing him of the urgent matter he needed to go away on.

“And we’ll know when you come home,” You say pressing kisses to his knuckles, “I promise you I will wait, it’s two weeks,”. He knew he was going to lose this argument with you, in return for your support he made you enough pudding for a few days but you was so emotional over the unknown you ate them all the first night he left. 

Everything was going fine, until you started experiencing morning sickness at work, throwing up on the dot every morning at 9:30. The smell of peoples lunch was unbearable, it got to the point you went and sat in Victor's office during lunch. It wasn’t until Goldman walked in on you crying your eyes out at a puppy adoption advert that people started to ask questions.

“So Goldman said you’ve been throwing up? I’m getting the next plane home,” Victors voice was music to your ears that night as you lay in bed.

“It’s fine, it might just be morning sickness you know,” You smile, you missed your husband deeply.

“I can get the earliest flight tomorrow morning,”.

“Victor no! It’s okay, just some smells make me feel really sensitive,” You mumble, “I sit in your office eating lunch now,”.

“Dummy…” He softly whispers, “I’m so worried about you, how are you doing?”.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” You take a bite out of your snack, “I just feel a little tired more than usual,”.

“Are you eating pudding? It’s midnight there…”. 

There's a moment's pause.

“You already ate all the pudding didn't you?”.

“I couldn’t help it! I need it,” You whine. 

“What are you eating now then?” He asks. 

“Ice cream with pickles…” You mumble.

“Right that’s it I’m coming home, my wife is seriously ill,” He chuckles, knowing how much you despise pickles and how much you hate mixing sweet and sharp foods.

“Victor, I really think this might be it,” You can’t stop yourself beaming down the phone. 

“I think you need to take a test,” Him always being the reasonable one.

“No, not without you,” You reply instantly.

“Bella-”.

“No Victor, this is our baby, we’re doing this every step together,”. Victor knew you was just as stubborn as he was, “Besides you’ll be home in 5 days, I can wait”.

Dear god it was a long five days, each day your symptoms felt like they was getting worse, you felt so fatigued by the end of the week you had forgotten about Victor coming home. Too tired to walk home you jumped into a nearby cab, almost falling asleep in the car. Getting out as it pulled up at your home, a familiar scent lingered in the living room as you opened the front door.

“Vic?” You called out, walking in and seeing him standing there. You ran into his arms as he twirled you around his arms, pressing kisses all over your face.

“I missed you so much, I’m never leaving you again,” He says between kisses making you giggle. 

“I have a present,” He says, setting you down. PLEASE BE MORE PUDDING, “No, it’s not pudding,”. You pouted at his comment, he could read your mind you swear. He reaches into a bag and hands you a pregnancy test. You blink and look at him.

“Goldman got it for me, I- I didn’t know what one to get,” A blush on his cheeks as you giggle.

“You ready?” You ask, squeezing his hand as you walk to the bathroom.

“Always,” He replies. 

-

A week on and you sit in the leather reclining chair, the cold gel being spread over your  bump as Victor sits by your side, holding your hand tight. 

“And… there we are,” The doctor moving the wand over your stomach, “There's your baby,”. Roughly 9 weeks pregnant, the screen giving you and Victor the first glimpse of the life growing inside you, tears running down your cheeks. 

“It’s so tiny,” You cry, focusing on the black and white image on the screen. You had to strain to see the tiny bean that was developing inside you but there it was. Victors hand tightened over yours, a small tear falling from his eye he focuses on the screen.

“Lets see if,” The doctor says, messing with something on the screen and a faint sound of a heartbeat fills the room, “I know this can be very emotional, I’ll give you a minute”. The doctor stepping out.

“Our baby Victor,” You sob as Victor tears his eyes away from the screen to hold you close.

“I love you so much, thank you, thank you for giving us the most perfect gift,” He whispers cradling you close to him, you could feel a tear from his face drop onto your cheek. 

You didn’t have a dream pregnancy, you suffered severely with morning sickness to the point you had to announce your pregnancy early due to the growing concern of your colleges. But the best part was what you craved: pudding and Victor. You literally couldn’t get your fill of either. Victor refused to make them you anymore in the house as you literally sat with a spoon ready when he began making them, instead he would make them in a batch at Souvenir and would bring home one a week. Although he didn’t complain once about your increased sex drive, morning sessions, after work, at home, anywhere and time you could get him alone. It got to the point where he had to book out afternoon meetings in his calendar just to satisfy your needs. He also never once complained about your breasts practically doubling every week.

At first you didn’t want to find out the sex of your child but one you was massively impatient and two you wanted to begin buying baby clothes, you couldn’t stop once you started. You had an extravagant gender reveal, everyone having to guess what they thought the baby was going to be. You were adamant it would be a boy, Victor a girl, but neither of you cared as all you wanted was a healthy baby. 

“And it's...blue!” You cry, cutting the cake to see the inside of the sponge blue making you sob like the hormonal wreck you were. 

-

“You're doing it again,” Victor was watching you as he sat in his armchair. You were busy cleaning everything and anything you could see, you were currently polishing the knobs on door handles for the fourth time.

“I can’t help it! It irritates me,” You whine, Victor standing up and wrapping his arms around you nuzzling his face into your neck from behind. Your bump was huge, at first you were worried you were having twins. You had just under two weeks until your due date.

“Come on, I’ll run you a bath, massage your feet and you can relax,” He hums as he leads you to the bathroom, waddling your way over.

“He’s so restless,” You say with a slight hiss in discomfort as you feel the foot press against your stomach.

“Just like his mother,” Victor chuckles, helping you into the bath as he rolls up his shirt sleeves. 

“I hope he likes pudding like me,” You tease, emerging yourself into the water. You take one of Victor's hands and intertwine it with yours, placing it over your bump where your son was kicking fiercely. A smile glimmering over his face, he looked like the definition of content and happiness. 

“Now… If I remember something about a foot rub?” You giggle, attempting to lift your foot out of the water. 

-

“I can not believe you came with me, you should be at home,” Victor was still protesting that you came into the office with him to collect some documents. It was the day before your due date but you refused to be alone in the house incase you went into labour.

“It’s fine! We’ll be here for, what, an hour max?” You say, making your way to sit on the plush sofa of his office. Victor quickly buries himself into the work, wanting to rush everything so he could get you back home where you belonged. 

“Ah,” You hiss lightly, Victor running straight to your side.

“You okay?” He asks, panic on his face.

“No, I’m fine it’s just my back, can you help me up I got to pee,” You whine, physically unable to stand up by yourself. He helps you up slowly but you still in his arms.

“Did you sit in something wet?” He questions looking at the seat as you shake your head, feeling the wetness spread down your leggings. 

“Victor…”.

“I can’t believe someones been in my office!”.

“Victor…”.

“God I bet it was Goldman and too not clean it, this is expensive leather!”.

“Victor! Shut up about the damn sofa, my waters” You cry with a gasp, shutting your eyes tight as a dull ache starts in your pelvis.

The next few minutes are a blur, Victor frantically calling the hospital as he helps you to the elevator, trying to keep calm. You was so glad you had already put the overnight bag in the car. You grip tightly onto the elevator railing as it stops on multiple floors, Victor frantically trying to stop it from going anywhere but the car park. 

“I am not having our baby in this god damn building,” You hiss, a stronger contraction begins to wave over you. 

“I mean he was probably conceived here,” Victor cant help but look smug in response but shuts up with the look you glare at him. 

You finally got to the car, Victor breaking the speed of time to get you to the hospital, running through your breathing techniques with you, trying to keep both you and him calm. By the time you reached the hospital your contractions were minutes apart and you already at a peak dilation, you was rushed straight into the delivery suit. 

“Come on, you got this,” Victor holding your hand as your body curled with a scream as sweat dripped off your forehead. You too dilated to have any medical assistance, your baby boy was ready for you to meet him. He stood by you the whole time, letting you crush his hand, pull him close, push you away, whatever you needed he was there. He didn’t moan when you cried out you hated him for causing this. 

“I can’t do it, I can’t,” You cry, falling back against the bed, tears falling from you.

“Yes you can, you can do this,” Victor reassures you, kneeling by your side and stroking your hair.

“It hurts,” You sob.

“Mrs.Li, you need to push, your baby’s not waiting,” A doctor urges you.

“You are so brilliant, just a little longer, I promise I’ll make you all the pudding you want for you and our boy,” Victor chuckles, trying to help you in any way he can. 

An agonising, body splitting, few moments and the sound of a whining baby fills the door, Victor now grabbing your hand as tightly as you had been his.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs.Li, it’s a perfectly healthy boy,” The doctor smiles, cleaning up your boy before slowly cradling him against your chest as you collapse back against the bed. You can’t help but cry looking down at your bundle of joy, Victor wrapping his arm around you and pressing kisses to your head.

“You did so well baby, so well,” He repeats as he nestles to sit beside you on the bed. You move your tiny boy to the other side of your chest, him cradled between you as Victor cradles you. 

“Hi baby,” You whisper softly, admiring the purest thing you had ever seen in your arms. You hear Victor sobbing slightly above you and you turn to look at his tear filled eyes.

“I love you so much,” He manages before leaning down and kissing you.

“I love you too,” You reply, a tiny coo coming from the life you had created in your arms.

“And we love you,” Victor adds, gently caressing a finger over your son's face. The feeling of love and cherishment could burst from your room as Victor held his two most precious things in his arms.

Enjoy my work, visit my masterlist here. 

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mr love victor #mr love queens choice victor #mr love queen's choice #victor fluff #mr love fluff #mr love victor fluff #mr love #mlqc fluff

[ajokeformur-ray]

The slumbering beast within // Joker x Reader // hair wash fluff.

Summary: You need to wash your hair but lost within yourself are you in thought. Joker can’t turn away from you, not now... and just as you have saved him many times before does he now do the same for you. 

A/N: Self-indulgent and self-insert to the max skksks I don’t care today (or any day). I was washing my hair yesterday and this was all I could think about. There’s some emotional heaviness to this and canonical angst.

Word count: 2,002.

“Do you need the bathroom? I’m gonna go wash my hair.”

Joker exhaled his lungful of cigarette smoke as he said, “No.” The sound was breathy and soft, and barely audible over the noise of the television. His legs were crossed at the ankles and somehow were his knees bouncing a mile a minute, watching the news was he. He had broken out of Arkham only a week ago and still did the search continue. No one ever looked for plain Arthur Fleck, and so it was only too easy for you to, by all intents and purposes, harbour a fugitive. Your husband may have been the clown prince of crime, but little was known about the man himself; people only knew his reputation, which had come with the name he had chosen. Oh, but he hadn’t wanted this and daily did it break your heart.

You were frozen in thought beside the television, your eyes on Joker’s painted visage. Even in the daylight did his face take on an eerie glow due to the harsh blue light of the screen and his makeup, meticulously applied this day, looked so crisp. Oh, but he was so handsome. Your thoughts were fixed on the night he had killed Murray and you felt the familiar sting of tears in your eyes. Nothing made you sadder faster than all that he had ever gone through... as hard as he had worked, as hard and as relentlessly as he had tried, and still was it not enough. Your sweet Arthur Fleck was failed again and again by society and in the end had he succumbed to all that was making him numb, even with your best efforts to ease him into his truest, freest self. No amount of love could prevent the inevitable, not that you wanted or needed to prevent something which others took for granted; discovering their real selves in their own time. No. Arthur have been shoved into his and he had been left reeling, his only grip on reality the feeling of your hand in his, of your fingers in the gaps between his own. You had never left his side and though you didn’t condone some of what he had done, you understood and you empathised so deeply with him. If only you could really have been there for him every step of the way. You had always and would always love the man sat on the sofa, no matter who he became or what he did. The weight of your rings became more apparent the longer that you stood there in thought, your eyes fixed on Joker’s face, and you felt the urge to cry stronger now. Though you hated how upset you got over something which couldn’t be changed, you also hoped that you never stopped getting upset, for surely that would mean that you no longer cared. If you no longer cried, would you still be so in love that the feeling overcame your entire self and threatened to choke you? Would you still - 

A broken, strained giggle shattered your silent reverie. “Y/N.” Joker called your name once, his tone firm but loving, and your eyes, glazed over with the ghosts of all which haunted you, refocused on your husband. You must have made some kind of noise because Joker leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette, almost burned down to the filter, out into the crystal ashtray which was on the coffee table. He shook his head and leaned back, a weary and knowing smile on his face. “There you are. Where did you go, sweet thing?” You were both aware of what you had been thinking of but Joker knew as well as you did that if you wanted to talk about it, you would. Even so, Joker continued with, “Leave it in the past, Y/N, where it belongs. Go wash your hair. I’ll be here when you come back.” His tone was gentle, full of empathy and of shared pain. Always so taken aback was he by the depths of the feelings you had for him, because of him. Joker sometimes wondered if he felt little about his past because you were burdened with feeling enough for the both of you. Green oceans met yours and you nodded slowly, still feeling outside of yourself. Joker was somehow right in front of you and really far away and even though you tried to focus on him, to let yourself know that he was there and he was okay, something in your thoughts still refused to let you go, so plagued were you by all you hadn’t been able to protect Joker from. You had forgiven him long ago for all that he had done, but you had yet to forgive yourself, and that was the core of the issue.

As you moved into the bathroom, a faraway look still in your eyes, so full of sorrow and sadness were you for another person, for your person, Joker sighed, swept a hand through those romantic curls which brushed gently across the tops of his shoulders as he did so, and stood up. He couldn’t and wouldn’t leave you. Not like this. He knew not why you were thinking so heavily on the past, but he knew that you would try to hide it from him, now. You would cry over the bathtub while you were washing your hair, and when you came out you would go into the bedroom and stay away from the source of your grief and of your comfort; so multifaceted was your clown and the things he could make you feel in the same moment. One of your worst habits was emotionally distancing yourself when you were hurting for any reason and so Joker made his way into the bathroom quickly, before you even had a chance to put your defenses up. He knocked twice with a single knuckle on the closed door and then let himself in. You were already bent over the bathtub and in the process of washing your hair. He heard you sniffle and his heartstrings tugged in his chest. Like they were connected did his lips turn downwards, too, and Joker shut the door loudly to catch your attention over the sound of the water. You froze and Joker smiled without humour. He had been as intuitive as always was he with you and oh, how he hated being right sometimes.

Joker shed his red blazer and draped it over your shoulders. He took the time to tuck it right around your body and as you began to relax into what you were doing, Joker took the shower head from you. “Let me do it, doll.” The contrast of the hot water to the coolness of Joker’s fingers and of the hard setting of the water against the gentle way Joker was running his hand over the back of your head to make sure that every part of your hair was soaked made you shiver, a cool tingle running down your back and pooling at the base of your spine. Joker was quick in how he washed your hair; he had seen you do it often enough to know how to do it himself. His nimble fingers massaged your scalp as he applied your shampoo. His grip was firm and you couldn’t help your occasional moans; Joker was so tender with you. Neither of you spoke while Joker was washing your hair. There was no need to. Everything was in his touch and in the way you just knew how to turn your head, when to shut your eyes and the like; so much of what the two of you did and said together was unspoken. Joker was done with your hair way before he turned the water off, but he kept it on because the both of you were enjoying the quiet stillness of the moment. 

Finally, though, Joker leaned over you to shut the water off. You shrunk into his body and your hands brought the blazer tighter over you, completely immersing yourself in all that Joker was. He made a soft appreciative noise and grabbed a towel off the railing which was nailed to the wall near the toilet. Having watched you dry your hair before, Joker knew not to rub at your hair but to simply squeeze it in the towel and pat your hair dry. “Get up for me, darling.” Joker giggled at how you flipped your hair up and over your back. “Perfect,” A heartfelt murmur and then Joker sorted out your hair, a genuine look of concentration on his face as he found your parting. Strands were moved this way and that and when at last did Joker deem you finished did he slide his fingers into your hair and ruffle the strands so that your hair didn’t lay flat as it dried.

You smiled. “You know me so well.” The sadness from earlier was still there but Joker’s gentle touch had chased it away, much like the water had washed away the grime of the city which stole the life of the residents and replaced it with a passivity which was just as lethal as any posed physical threat. The both of you were aware of this but much like the past could it be unchanged, it could only be felt for the time that it demanded to be and eased with the touch of Joker’s hand, by the sound of his voice and so medicinal was the effect of his love upon your soul that all else faded away in the end. So potent and so rich an experience was he in all that he was, all that he had ever been and all that he would ever be that all else ceased to matter when he made his unconditional and undying love clear to you. You were his one and only and even when your sadness was for him would Joker endeavour to chase it away; for anything less than peace within you was something which he just couldn’t abide. Indeed was it much the same for you; the two of you lived and breathed for the other’s well being and safety.

Joker grinned. “Mm-hm.” The sound was saturated with smugness and his grip on your hair remained as he pressed his lips to yours. His lips were reverent upon your own and they contained everything you needed in this moment; reassurance that what you had together was real, confirmation that Joker was alive and well, and love. All you had ever wanted from Joker was his particular brand of love and he made sure that you received it in abundance. Similarly did you spend your every waking moment making sure that Joker knew so vividly that you loved him that not even he could convince himself otherwise. You had yet to fail in your daily goal.  With one hand clutching the blazer which was still draped over your shoulders like a crimson cape and the other holding tightly onto the teal collar of his shirt, you allowed yourself to fall into Joker’s kiss, knowing that he would catch you, just as he always did. He didn’t ask how you were feeling - he didn’t need to. Everything he needed to know was in the way you clutched onto him so tightly, like he was the only thing which made sense in your life, and Joker knew that this moment, right here, with your body pressed fully up against his and your lips so firmly against his own, with nothing but the most tender of loves in the air between you, more than made up for all of those loveless nights which had come before.

He had waited almost thirty-six years for you and, oh, had his patience been rewarded. You were precisely what Joker deserved and finally did the werewolf within succumb to its exhaustion. It yawned, stretched and closed its eyes... 

... And never awoke.

AF/J @impulsiveclown @notyourlittledoll @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill @tsukiakarinobara @d-dreemurr @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @docsportello @ezziesworld @flowerglitterwoman @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokers-doll @jokershyena @arthurjokersgirl @antonija89 @lilliryth @hotpacino @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x y/n #joker #joker imagine #joker x reader #joker x you #joker x y/n #joker 2019 #joker 2019 imagine #joker 2019 x reader #joaquin phoenix #Joaquin phoenix joker #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #joaquin pheonix joker #phoenix!joker #phoenix!joker x reader #phoenix!joker imagine #erileck #self-shipping

[creativelyderangedme]

The Best Advice EVER

In Chameleon, instead of trying to just get Marinette to not get Akumatized in the bathroom, Tiki gives her some advice that changes the rest of the show.

Warning: Minor swearing ahead. Because reasons.

Just an idea based on some personal experience recently

.oOo.

Marinette growled, finding her way into a stall and taking a seat on the closed toilet lid, her hands shaking after the confrontation with the school’s resident liar. Her body trembled in anger. In fear. In total dismay over being threatened. 

Who did that? 

“I thought Chloe was bad, but Lila really takes the whole cake.” She took a shaky breath, her voice rising, “She’s like a supervillain who doesn’t even need a costume!”

The little red Kwami of creation watched her holder with worry and shared anger for how she’d been treated, but aside from comforting the girl, there was not much more she could do - even if she desperately wanted to. It pained her so much to see such a creative soul hurt like this, and one of her bugs no less! “You mustn't let her get to you Marinette,” She implored, hoping the girl would take a breath.

But she didn’t. 

Instead, her eyes grew shinier with tears threatening to spill and voice harsh but fragile as it broke, “If I don’t manage to expose her lies, she’ll ruin my life Tiki! She’ll turn my friends against me - including Adrien!” The tears finally broke through the dam and she growled loudly as a sob wracked her body and her fist came up to slam against the stall’s wall.

And that’s when Tiki knew she had to do something. 

Not only was her holder in danger of being possessed by an Akuma, but her whole outlook on the situation was so destructive, Tiki could practically feel the future repercussions from a mile away.

She flew in front of her chosen’s face, taking a deep breath before speaking up loudly over Marinette’s sobs, “Now listen here! That is ENOUGH.”

The girl looked up at her through tears that refused to slow, opening her mouth to argue, but the Kwami wasn’t done.

“You need to calm the fuck down.”

And just like that, Marinette’s sobs quieted as she was left speechless at the language thrown at her. Everything sputtering to a complete stop in her shock.

“Listen, Marinette, I know this seems like the end of the world, and right now someone telling you ‘it’s going to be okay’ is the last thing you want to hear. So I’m not going to say that. You’re not wrong to be upset about that girl threatening you, but the way you’re acting is going to get you hurt!”

Marinette blinked, mouth parting slightly, but unable to form any words.

“I’m not going to tell you to just believe everything is okay, because sometimes it isn’t, but you are Ladybug. You’ve literally accomplished the impossible before! The liar aside, stuff happens, Marinette! Circumstances are what they are. Friendships fail, people are hurt, trust is lost - and I know you’re angry and hurt and sad - but you’re in the thick of it, and the only thing you can control in this equation is YOU, and your reaction. You have to acknowledge what’s happened, accept the parts you can’t control and address the parts you can!”

There was a soft sniffle from the noirette as she seemed to mull over her little speech, “What - what are you saying Tiki?”

Tiki floated down to the cupped hands Marinette offered as a perch as she looked up meaningfully at her holder, “I’m saying that there is always going to be someone or something out there that will threaten you - and I don’t just mean bad guys. But even if you weren’t a superhero, it’s not your job to fix everything. Holding yourself to that standard isn’t just unfair - it’s downright destructive.”

“B-but she’s going to hurt my friends! She’s lying to them and promising them things that are untrue!”

“And who does that hurt when the truth comes out?”

“Them!” she exclaimed the obvious answer like it would change Tiki’s mind and make her agree. But it didn’t. In fact, it only proved her point, making it clear to the Kwami of creation how much her holder was holding over her own head.

“But it’s not your job to protect them all the time. They have to learn on their own, just like you. On the other hand, who gets hurt if you keep trying to prove Lila is a liar as a one-man-crusader and she does manage to convince everyone to turn on you?”

“M-me.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re telling me I should just ignore it? I should just let her keep lying to the people I care about?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Tiki shook her head, a small smile finally appearing on her tiny lips, “I’m saying that you only need to address the things you can control. Do you have control over what your friends believe?”

Marinette looked like she was going to say something, but instead, she closed her mouth and shook her head no.

“Right. But you do have control over how you react to this situation, and getting Akumatized over some liar isn’t going to help anything, now is it?”

Marinette let out a little giggle as a smile spread over her face, “No, it’s not.” She mumbled reaching up to wipe the tear tracks from her face.

Tiki sighed in relief. She’d managed to jump in and calm the girl down before an Akuma could show itself. 

In fact, unbeknownst to her, she’d managed to get Marinette calmed down before Hawkmoth had even gotten a chance to release the butterfly at all. Something that deeply aggravated him as he lost the feeling of any strong enough emotions in the area, and therefore preventing Lila from becoming Chameleon at all.

The Kwami floated up to look her holder in the eye once more, a much more confident look on her face, “Now then, what are you going to do next?”

Marinette smiled softly lifting a hand to gently brush her Kwami’s head, “I can’t change what everyone believes. But I can take steps to protect myself. And I can speak up about the things that bother me - like the seat change.”

Tiki hummed, her smile growing as she zipped up to place a kiss on Marinette’s cheek, “I’m so proud of you.”

Marinette left the bathroom with every intention of finding her teacher and speaking up about what had happened that morning when a familiar voice rang out behind her, “Oh, hey there Marinette.”

She turned with a squeak to find Adrien strolling up with a smile - one that quickly faded as he looked her over, worry quickly replacing his mirth, “Hey, are you okay? Were you - were you crying?”

Marinette’s hands, came up quickly to try and wipe away any remaining evidence of her breakdown, with the words ‘I’m fine’ on her lips before a soft nudge from her purse caught her attention.

Right.

The only thing she had control over was her reaction to the situation. And it wasn’t healthy to bottle something like this up. She was a superhero, but she was also human.

“A-actually, no. I’m not.” She managed a coherent sentence to her crush, she offered him a little smile even as his brows creased further in worry.

“What happened?”

She proceeded to tell him how Lila had been lying all day and threatened her in the bathroom, not leaving out a single detail - even the part about Lila keeping her away from Adrien, taking calming breaths the entire time. She told him about how much it bothered her to see her friends lied to, but how she couldn’t change what they believed. But it was important to say something because she’d been hurt none-the-less because of the lie. When she was done, she sighed as she looked up towards their classroom, a thoughtful look on her face, “I was going to go see to Mrs. Bustier and talk to her about the seating arrangement. I want to tell her about what happened in the bathroom, but I don’t know if she’ll believe me. I don’t exactly have proof.”

She looked back to him then to find him frowning in thought. His emerald eyes found her and there was so much guilt there, but also resolution, “Maybe you don't have proof, but how about back-up?”

Because she’d told him about the threat and her true feelings on the matter of being pushed out by her friends, Adrien found that ignoring the problem and taking the highroad was not going to change anything. Lies hurt people. Even small ones meant to get attention. 

And Marinette was his friend. He’d never let her get hurt if he could prevent it.

They then went and spoke to Mrs. Bustier together, telling her why Marinette had been so upset earlier over the seats, and the incident in the bathroom. And because their teacher wasn’t a pushover and knew the students wouldn’t lie about a claim as serious as this, she investigated the incident.

Seriously tho. Like, so many things could have been prevented if Marinette didn’t have the hero complex she does. She didn’t have to handle everything on her own. And If she’d spoken to someone sooner, like half of season 3 probably would have gone a totally different way.

ALSO, someone has GOT to teach this kid how to handle her anxiety. She spends so much time catastrophizing and freaking out over the what-ifs and the possible failures that she never gives herself a chance to enjoy the moment as it is right now. She’s going to burn herself out before she even gets a chance to do anything else, and the GIRL IS 15! Dear lord, child, live a little. You have your whole life ahead of you. 

#lila rossi exposed #protective adrien agreste #adrien agreste #tiki is a wise kwami #you can't tell me she's lived as long as she has and hasn't figured out how to give decent advice #marinette is allowed to feel #literally based on a book called calm the fuck down #marinette needs a hug #marinette is human #she's also a teenager #tiki gives great advice #ml salt #chameleon #chameleon salt #miraculous ladybug #anxiety coping #ml anxiety #anxious marinette #miraculousladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir

[sushigal007]

Tri-Var Sorority

Let’s go play a Greek house now. Although I must say these Greek houses don’t resemble any houses I saw in Greece. There aren’t nearly enough statues of naked dudes with giant erections.

Thanks Heather. How very topical. Heather: Please don’t mock me, I’m dying here. Fine. We’ll deal with it. Go straight to your room, and keep two metres away from everybody-

FUCKS SAKE, HEATHER.

Well that’s sitting down and resting, so I allow it.

Meanwhile Tiffany keeps her distance and starts skilling.

Heather: So am I. Good, because as we keep being told, if you don’t come out of quarantine with at least six new skills, you suck. (Do not feel bad if you spend your entire time in quarantine doing nothing other than binge-watching the entire MCU from start to finish while eating Pringles. Stay at home, stay safe, stay alive.)

Brittany: Dear professor. I will not be in class for the next few days as I have the plague. Brittany: Oh wait shit I don’t know who my professor is.

Brittany: Also I really have to pee. So go pee! I specifically didn’t lock you in your rooms so you could!

Brittany: Yeah but Heather’s in there. There are three toilets in this house. Why not use a different one? Brittany: Because Heather’s in there.

And then she charges in so fast, she leaves a Brittany-shaped hole in the door. Brittany: GO AWAY! Heather: I’M DYING.

That was your own stupid fault. Brittany: Nobody saw me, you can’t prove a thing.

The parade of fail continues. Tiffany: Oops.

Alas, that wasn’t Grandma’s Comfort Soup. None of the girls have Family primaries or secondaries, so Brittany and Heather are just gonna have to tough it out.

Or nap it out. That works too.

Meanwhile, here’s Tiffany. Hi Tiffany! Tiffany: I’m trying to do my assignment, do you mind? Bye Tiffany!

Tiffany: So, recycling. Thoughts? Heather: I think... I need to use the bathroom again

Brittany: NOT THIS TIME, BITCH.

THERE ARE TWO OTHER TOILETS.

It turns out Heather had other reasons for wanting to use the bathroom. Heather: Glub glub glub.

Brittany: HACK HACK COUCH COUGH. Heather: Can’t you cover your mouth? Brittany: You know perfectly well that I cannot.

Emmy-Lou: Look, a distraction! Tiffany: Where!?

Tiffany: Wh- hey! You swapped the pieces! Emmy-Lou: I literally said ‘look, a distraction’. What did you think that meant?

Hooray! I celebrated by letting her go out with Tiffany, who’s been wanting to write her term paper and can’t because the computer’s in Brittany’s room.

And then I didn’t bother taking any photos of Heather’s first taste of freedom.

And when they get back, I’m greeted by this happy message.

Not the greatest grades, but as you can see, it’s literally the first time they went to class, so C’s are pretty good.

New term, new skills. Tiffany’s the only one who wants any though. Heather and Brittany: We were sick, we need to recover.

I see recovery does not prevent them from bringing home mountains of pizza.

Heather wanted a pet, so got her a puppy called Millie. Heather: *rubs puppy all over face*

Brittany: SKREEEEEEEEEEEEE

Tiffany’s OTH is Nature so I let her catch some fireflies that we will both instantly forget about.

One day I will learn how to fix the messed up slots on this pet bed. Today is not that day. Tomorrow will not be that day either.

Soooo I noticed all the girls had crushes on Castor Nova, so I invited him over, hoping for some ~drama~. Spoiler: There was no drama. Castor: So why are you single? Is there something wrong with you?

Heather: Aaaand my vagina just sealed itself shut.

Erik: Which one’s the Bishop again? Brittany: No idea.

Are you deliberately trying to get my blog banned? You have two baths upstairs!

Brittany earns the dubious honour of being the first sim to see protest signs when she looks at the protest signs, instead of flamingo lights. Brittany: Fight the power? I want to be the power.

Nice earrings, Kristen.

OK, that is officially Too Many Pizzas.

Heather: This is kinda fun actually lol.

Heather: Heyyyyyy! Fancy seeing you here! Martin: I know, right!?

Bold choice of clothing.

Brittany’s may be even bolder. Brittany: Psyche out your opponent with boobies. Tiffany: Not looking.

Do you want food poisoning? Because that’s how you get food poisoning.

Heather’s OTH is also Nature and she rolls constant wants to catch butterflies and fireflies. Heather: I am your Lord and Master. Tremble before me, lesser beings!

Brittany prefers to tease Millie.

Tiffany makes the Dean’s list again, and Heather and Brittany’s grades are going up.

Heather: I am Lord of the Flies. Fireflies. Have... have you ever read the book? Heather: Haha of course not.

I can always count on the trampolines to lure in Sims who need a body point but don’t want to skill.

Tiffany chats to DJ

Llama: Why is there a mouldy pizza blocking my way? Because I’m hoping somebody will TAKE A FUCKING HINT.

Brittany wanted to throw a toga party and somehow I totally failed to notice that Heather had a crush on Martin

A BIG one.

I also invited both the drama professors.

No regrets.

Hi Emily! Don’t you already have a boyfriend? Emily: I want a harem.

Llama: How dare you flirt with me again!? Drama Prof: Bwah?

Tiffany: So, Kevin, you wanna- Kevin: ‘Scuse me, there’s shenanigans going on.

And Kevin becomes the filling in a Drama sandwich. Kevin: Oh shit.

Tiffany: Heartbreak. I’m not sure you can really blame Kevin for this- Tiffany: Watch me do it anyway.

Llama: How very dare you.

Kevin: How very dare you indeed!

Tiffany: Maybe a relaxing backrub- Kevin: NOPE I have had ENOUGH of people touching me at this so-called party!

Speak for yourself, game, I had a blast.

Brittany: Put it there, pal. Tiffany: This is fine. :)

Heather: I’m not saying the milkshake thing and you can’t make me.

Finally discovered Brittany’s OTH is Sports, so she drags Tiffany outside to play football, which, as a Brit, kills me a little every time I have to type it for the wrong football.

Heather: -Yeah but skyscrapers are stupid, what’s the point when you can only have four playable households? Tiffany: Your dog pissed on the floor again. Heather: Can’t hear you, I’m on the phone.

Heather: Besties! Martin: Besties! Heather: Let’s see if we can’t improve on that.

Martin: Any thoughts on night mode?

Server: Oops, my bad.

Joshua: Hey bro, having fun? Martin: SLURP. Joshua: How’s Jane?

Brittany: Stop pissing on the carpet. It’s disgusting. Pee on a newspaper. Can puppies pee on newspapers? Brittany: Whatever, just do it outside. Millie: I can’t get down the stairs though. :(

And then she grew up and immediately rushed outside to harass passing townies into petting her.

Grades!

Mini Heather spam

Tank Grunt invited Heather on an outing after her date with Martin and I figured, why not? Much to my amusement, he invited his dad and his brother. Buck’s booty shorts HAVE to go though.

I guess my PC liked looking at his ass hanging out ‘caused it crashed while I was scrolling through shirts. BOOO. Turns out nothing was wrong with them, it just strained itself too hard generating thumbnails.

So I sent Heather back out, where she was promptly attacked by bees.

Heather: Please, I need to sleep and there’s nowhere here to nap.

The next day, I sent her out to do some skilling, and she rolled her very first academic want - to influence someone to write her term paper.

Marla: Eh, I’ve got nothing better to do.

Heather: As a stereotypical hot, blonde Sorority girl, I am the best at makeovers.

Heather: Tada.

Hey Brittany, it’s for you. It’s an obscene phone call. Brittany: Sigh. Hello, professor.

Tiffany: I too am good at makeovers. Townie: But you’re not hot and blonde. Tiffany: Neither are you, bitch.

Tiffany: A vast improvement.

Stop that, Millie.

Townie: So anyway, I was thinking, blah blah blah... Tiffany: I’m so hungry. Tiffany: Ooh, a sandwich. Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry.

Townie: -And they were all bendy, can you believe it, blah blah blah... Tiffany: Ooh, a different sandwich! Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry.

Tiffany: Ooh, a different sandwich! Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry. Townie: You know that’s the first sandwich again, right? Tiffany: No. Can I try your sandwich?

Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry.

Tiffany: Ooh, a different sandwich! Tiffany: Ew, it’s rotten. Tiffany: I’m so hungry. Townie: ...I’m gonna go now.

Oh thank fuck for that.

Brittany: If we get roaches, you’d better kill them, or I’ll kill you.

Heather: I can sex up your look, but you’re gonna have to deal with that horrible outfit yourself.

SNOW.

Tiffany: This vagina isn’t gonna fuck itself, Kevin. Kevin: But the wall’s in the way. I know I have an inaccessible beds hack. I may have to move it out of the subfolder and pop a z at the beginning of the name.

Whoops, forgot I’d invited them both. And that they hate each other.

Makoto: Please, the makeover chair’s right there... Heather: I’m BUSY.

I see Sam’s makeover is winning her fans.

Aldric: Help me, I’m dying.

Yeah, and I bet it would’ve been even better without the fucking plague.

And the round ends with some grade slippage from all the girls.

#sims 2 #premades #uberhood #Tri-Var Sorority

[jerzyreign]

Racism is Everyone’s Problem

Since my skin color is going to have everyone rolling their eyes thinking “this white privilege bitch think she knows anything about racism?” I want to start by saying I AM PUERTO RICAN. Now for my own back story so you get to know me better. 

I have seen both sides of the fence. As noted in my opening statement my skin color makes me look like I belong among the privileged. The second they learn of my last name or hear me speak my native language however, they quickly revoke all privilege and reign down on me with their hate. To the Caucasians out there who do not believe White Privilege is real: You’re wrong! If you were a minority who just happened to look white, like myself, you would be in a position to know this. 

Let me show you.

Age 15: Walking off high school grounds on lunch break to get food from the deli 3 blocks over. Common thing many of us did as it was permitted to leave school grounds for lunch. Myself, a white friend we’ll call Ashley, and a Hispanic friend we’ll call Jose. Police officer drives by and sees us walking during school hours and pulls over. He asks us our names. Ashley goes first and he tells her to stand to the side, I go and he looks at me with a moment of surprise and tells me to get my ID out. Jose goes last and he ask him if he’s ever been in trouble with the law. (Jose is very tan in complexion naturally and looks every bit of his South American heritage.) He makes Jose put his hands on the trunk of the car while he pats him down, gets his ID out for him, runs his information to confirm he’s never been in trouble, and dumps his entire bookbag out onto the ground to inspect its contents. He checks my ID, asks me where I’m from with a last name like __, and proceeds to do the same thing to me. Mind you it’s illegal for a male cop to pat down a female in my state, but he didn’t want anyone privy to his racial profiling so he didn’t call a female to the scene. He asks Ashley why she’s walking with us, if we were coercing her into any bad activities and sends her back to school walking. While we get escorted back in his car and handed off to the principal after confirming students had consent to leave the property for lunch and it was indeed our scheduled lunch break. 

Age 17: Working at Pizza Hut restaurant as a waitress. About 3 months in a friend stopped by to order take out and saw me working. Greeted me in Spanish and after he left I was confronted by the shift supervisor. When asked how I spoke Spanish so well since they literally failed it in school, and if there was a trick to it; I responded by informing him I was Spanish. Soon he and the rest of the crew were murmuring in the back kitchen, getting quiet when I came near, looking at me sideways and trying to avoid brushing against me at the soda machine like I had the plague or something. Next day I came in, looked at the clipboard to see what section I was working and saw my name crossed out. I asked him why ‘Karen’ was working the entire dining room alone and was told “Because you belong cleaning the bathrooms. Go find the cleaning closet and get scrubbing” I reported him to the Manager when she was on duty the next day and she said she’d talk to him, but any shift she was not in the building I was taunted by the staff and forced to work my shift scrubbing toilets. So I quit. 

Age 19: Working at a Giant’s supermarket as cashier. I worked my way up to Customer Service Supervisor and then the front end Assistant Manager is like 8 months. My third day as Asst Manager I walked out through the store to shop after my shift. In line at the register the person in front of me was Spanish and having trouble understanding what the cashier was telling her about a coupon she was trying to use. I step in and explain it to the customer in Spanish because it was getting late and I wanted to go the fuck home. The cashier gave me a shell shocked look and asked how I knew Spanish. I told her I was Spanish and got this ‘ew’ look that ended our conversation. My check out was awkwardly quiet for a person that had been friendly with me since my first day on the job. Next day I was demoted without explanation to cashier. My password for the cash room was deactivated and when I found someone to let me into the office so I could start work I was told “You don’t work in this dept anymore. You’re a cashier now. Go see _ and find out what register you’ll be at today”. When I asked why I was simply told “You should know. It only just happened yesterday” None of management was kind to me again, most supervisors looked at me with disdain as I passed, and finally after a week the produce manager told me it was because I was Spanish and they didnt realize that when they promoted me. He apologized for the fact he had to ignore me in the store but that anyone caught being nice to me would face consequences. Apparently they wanted me to quit. So I did. 

Age 26: I got a job at Kmart as a cashier. Worked my way up to Soft-line dept Shift Supervisor in 6 months. About 3 weeks later I started dating the Loss Prevention Manager from another store. He is an African American, Italian, German mix race man who solely looks African American. It took about 2 months for the relationship to get out around the job. It took my boss all of 5 seconds after confronting me for confirmation about the relationship to start treating me like shit. After a week I tried to go to HR and was informed that she is the daughter of a very high up corporate executive and by proxy untouchable. She made more than the store manager and basically ran the show there. After another few days I called her out in the front of the store one night at closing time asking what the stick up her ass with me was and she point blank said “I thought you were a good person. You work hard and you’re a natural leader to the girls here but you screwed up sleeping with a black man. Then I find out you’re a spic so it makes sense for you like blacks. I’m just disgusted with myself for being fooled by you” That was the end of that job. 

See white folks? Not once but FOUR times in my life things were good for me while people thought I was white, but quickly soured once the truth came to light. Four times I was excelling in my place of employment thanks to the privilege my skin color bestowed upon me but lost it once it was discovered I was just a really pale brown person. White privilege is real. 

I won’t bore you all with the blatant racism I’ve dealt with in my life. If you’re not Caucasian you already know the shit people spew out their hateful mouths, and what it’s like to deal with people throwing shit at you. 

I want to discuss the fact that racism is everyone’s problem. Those of us being subjected to it must stand up for ourselves against racist people because we’re human too dammit. We deserve to be treated with the same dignity, respect, and considerations that our oppressors grant each other. More importantly is the fact that those of us who are not subjected to it because they have the privilege of being born white should also stand up against racist people. Use the privilege you try so hard to deny for the greater good! BE THE CHANGE that fixes our society. Don’t just turn the other cheek figuring “I’m not the target so it’s not my problem”. Step up, speak up, and help your fellow man. We have to stand together or continue to fall divided. Just because you are not the one who thinks that way or acts that way does not make you part of the solution. Your silence and complacency in allowing racism to continue to thrive and exist is just as damaging as choosing to participate in it. Get outraged that your neighbor, friend, coworker, or just plain old fellow man is being mistreated and murdered for no reason other than their skin color is different. Teach your children to stand up and speak up against racism when they witness it. Teach them how to identify racism, racial profiling, and racial disparity. We have to fix this. Together. 

We are one species, one country, and one society. So lets stand as one. United in our right to life. 

March your ass down to your capital buildings alongside us and tell our leaders ENOUGH WITH RACISM. Hold police accountable! No more death! 

[fakeyellow]

I love angst. Based on an anon prompt, this is a story where MC gets ill. 

“I put my symptoms in WebMD and it says I have leukemia.”

Lily laughed, “Girl, you know WebMD always says you have cancer even if you only have a cold. You cough once and WebMD’s like you’re gonna die in ten seconds.”

“What’s WebMD?” Jax asked, a confused look on his face.

“It’s a website where you put in your symptoms and they tell you what’s probably wrong with you,” Celia replied, smiling at Lily’s words although there still remained a slight worry in her eyes.

“Hmm, you know, I have been feeling a bit tired lately, maybe I’ll try it out,” Jax mused, rubbing his stubble thoughtfully.

“Jax. You’re a vampire,” Lily reminded him, her face scrunched up in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, you never know,” Jax defended himself even as his neck flushed in embarrassment and Lily could only laugh at him.

“Perhaps you should go to the hospital if you’re worried. I’m sure it’ll be just a small cold like Lily said but it’s best to check,” Adrian smoothly interrupted.

“Will you come with me? I don’t like hospitals,” Celia turned to Kamilah with an earnest look reminiscent of a puppy’s.

“Of course,” Kamilah responded, and although she looked like her usual, unruffled self, there was just the slightest bit of concern in her eyes. After all, Kamilah had been there with her the entire week, had noticed how Celia was more tired than usual, had noticed how Celia had lost weight, her hip bones jutting out from her skin.

And strangely, it was that concern in an otherwise unmoveable woman that grounded Celia, rather than further worry her. No matter what, Kamilah lov- well, she had strong feelings for her and that was all she needed.

Besides, Lily was probably right. She probably just had a cold or infection or something.

—-

“I’m sorry but we found that you have acute myeloid leukemia...”

Celia walked about the dark streets of New York, moving as if in a daze.  

“But that’s what WebMD said,” Celia dumbly said, unable to comprehend what her doctor was telling her. 

“It’s not often accurate but I’m afraid it was in this case. Now, what this means is…”

The rest of the doctor’s words had blended into an unintelligible noise and now she was here, in the busy streets, not knowing what to do. Was she supposed to cry? Was she supposed to fall to the ground, wailing that she still had too much of her life yet to live? Was she supposed to lash out in anger at the world that had dropped this atomic bomb on her, at her body that had betrayed her? 

But Celia just felt… nothing. There was an empty numbness in her threatening to consume her, a hollow hole in place of where her heart was supposed to be.  

Without a real destination in mind, Celia just kept walking and walking until she found herself in Kamilah’s apartment, welcomed by that familiar scent of lilies and cinnamon. Her exhausted legs dropped her onto the side of Kamilah’s plush bed, and she just sat there, unable to do anything else.

There was no real sense of time passing in the heavily curtained room with its constant, warm temperature, but eventually, there was the sound of the front door opening. Kamilah briskly stepped into her room, her momentary pause the only sign of her surprise. 

“I went to your apartment but you weren’t there. What did the doctor say?” Kamilah asked casually as she took her blazer off and placed it in her closet.

When there was no response from the still woman, Kamilah went over and joined her on the bed.

“Celia?”

And it was this gentle call of her name, each syllable said with such tender affection, that finally caused her numb façade to shatter into pieces all around them.  

Great, heavy sobs ripped out of her chest and she turned blindly into Kamilah’s warm embrace, the woman’s arms immediately wrapping around her trembling shoulders.

When at last her tears stopped, Celia slowly lifted her head from Kamilah’s chest, looking embarrassed at the wet spot she left behind.

“Wow, that’s gross. I’m sorry I ruined your silk blouse.”

“Think nothing of it. Are you okay?” The Egyptian woman asked, concern written on her ageless face. 

“Yeah, the doctor said it was a virus. I think I was just really worried about it even though I tried to pretend I wasn’t,” Celia admitted, wiping the wet tears from her cheeks with a shaky smile.

The vampire’s eyes narrowed but she did not further press the matter.

“Well, shall we celebrate your clean bill of health?” Kamilah asked with a devious smirk, and when they fell back into the bed together, she noticed the uncharacteristically desperate, almost ferocious passion in Celia’s actions. 

Celia was hiding something from her.

—-

Celia collapsed onto her bed, too tired to be affected by the strong disinfectant smell pervading the apartment. 

The first week after her diagnosis, she’d visited the hospital more times than she’d ever been in her life, undergoing countless tests and even spending a few days in the ICU after she had caught a cold that had quickly gone downhill.

Although she had tried to maintain a double life, spending her days in the hospital and her nights in the world of vampires and corporate finance as Adrian’s chief assistant, it had quickly become too much for her. After falling asleep at her desk multiple times, Adrian had kindly told her to take a few days off to rest and she had all too eagerly accepted. 

But when her first chemotherapy appointment had been scheduled, Celia knew she’d need an excuse that would somehow give her several weeks away from everyone to recover. She had filed for a leave of absence, telling everyone that she needed to go take care of her grandmother who had suddenly fallen ill and praying that Lily would trust her enough to not mention that her grandmother had died two years ago 

Momentarily taken aback, Lily had quickly recovered and wished Grandma Lucia well, before texting Celia later that night that she would be waiting for an explanation. Everyone had accepted her lie without a hint of doubt but Kamilah. 

Celia had successfully avoided Kamilah until that moment, citing her work and her busy schedule as an excuse. For the first time, Celia had been grateful she’d never officially moved into Kamilah’s apartment because there would have been no hiding her secret in such close proximity. 

Her heart had ached at the sight of the beautiful woman she loved, but Celia had forced herself to keep a distance between them, hurriedly running to her car when it looked like Kamilah wanted her to stay back after the others left. 

Part of her had wanted Kamilah to run after her, stopping her, and forcing her to give up what she had been hiding so she could finally be with her again, and part of her continued to want that. But the larger part of her that loved her refused to break Kamilah’s heart, even as she felt unfairly hurt when Kamilah didn’t follow. 

That had been just yesterday, today filled with her first round of chemo. And while she had felt fine at the hospital and her anti-nausea meds seemed to be working, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion had crashed into her. 

It was only after she’d promised her doctor that she had someone to care for her and keep her apartment sterile that she’d been allowed to return to her home after the treatment. Because even though she was alone, Celia needed the comfort of her apartment. Thankfully, it was small enough that it hadn’t taken her much time in the morning to disinfect everything. 

And though her bed was not nearly as soft as Kamilah’s was, Celia found herself falling asleep with no troubles at all. 

—-

She didn’t know what time it was when she woke up, but all she knew was that her meds had failed and she needed to vomit. 

In the dark, she nearly tripped over herself in her frantic run to the bathroom, collapsing onto her knees when she finally reached the toilet. Without a second’s wait, Celia found herself heaving the measly contents of her stomach, hands tightly gripping the white porcelain. It was some time after her vomiting had been replaced by dry heaving that she finally noticed the cool hand on her neck, holding back her hair. 

She closed her eyes, feeling absolutely wretched, and rested her forehead onto the bowl of the toilet without care, when her eyes flew open. She jerked her head to the side only to gaze straight into bottomless, brown eyes, and she recoiled in horror at the implication.

“You can’t be touching me,” Celia gasped, her back pressed up against the bathtub after her attempt to get away. 

Kamilah stared back at her, a flicker of hurt appearing on her face before an unreadable look replaced it. 

Celia struggled to get up, placing a trembling hand on the bathtub for support, and in a flash, Kamilah was right in front of her, ready to support her. But Celia flinched from her touch and Kamilah finally let her arms fall limply to her side, forcing herself to only watch as Celia dragged herself out of the bathroom and into her bed.

Even as a storm of emotions raged in her chest, Celia’s fatigue proved to be the victor and she promptly fell asleep. 

—-

When Celia awoke, a sour taste was in her mouth but she felt infinitely better than she had the last night. The nausea had gone and-

The memories of the night before came back to her and she sat straight up, only to wince at the sudden rush of blood to her head. And Kamilah was right there, sitting at the edge of her bed, looking like she had been watching Celia the entire night even though the clock on the wall told Celia it was noon (a time Kamilah should have been sleeping). 

Her mouth was pressed together in a straight line as if to prevent the worry from escaping and without a word, she gestured to the glass of water on the bedside table. 

Celia hesitated for a second, and Kamilah said, “I didn’t touch it.”

Feeling guilty, Celia gave her a grateful nod and quickly drank the water down, relishing its refreshing taste. There was silence and a fraught tension in the room once the glass was empty, Celia’s eyes determinedly fixed on the glass and Kamilah’s eyes determinedly fixed on Celia. 

“You’ve been hiding something from me.”

Celia felt her throat dry and she wished that the empty glass in her hand was full again. She opened her mouth and closed it and opened it again before deciding she owed Kamilah the truth. She had already seen her last night; Kamilah would find out even without her telling the truth. And so, with a shaky exhale, Celia said,

“When I went to the doctor’s, they told me I have leukemia.”

The silence that followed was the worst Celia had ever experienced; she would have traded this silence for their previously tense silence over and over again.

Kamilah’s hand clenched into a tight fist, veins straining against her taut, tan skin and she suddenly looked every two thousand plus years of her age.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Kamilah said in a deceptively calm voice, “I’m hurt you decided to keep this from me, but that’s not important right now. Why didn’t you tell anyone? Lily, Adrian, and Jax, you should have told someone even if if you didn’t tell me! Why would you go through this alone?”

Celia ignored the second half of Kamilah’s questions, tearily responding, “I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

Tears spilled over at the vulnerability she could see in Kamilah’s eyes, the vulnerability she had caused.

“I thought I could just go through the treatments by myself and once I was okay again, I could tell you so you wouldn’t have to be worried. I-I didn’t want to burden you. And I didn’t want to get hurt either,” Celia admitted.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore, not now that I’m sick. Not when you have thousands of years in front of you to be with anyone you choose,” she desperately rambled, needing Kamilah to know why she had lied to her, needing Kamilah to stop looking so heartbroken. 

“I love you so much but I’m just so scared,” Celia finally whimpered.

For one terrible second, Celia was sure that Kamilah was going to walk away from her forever but then Kamilah fiercely embraced her, somehow causing all of her fears to disappear.

“I love you Celia. I’m sorry I haven’t said it before and made you doubt my feelings for you but I love you and you’re going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.” 

“I promise.”

—-

A/N: I actually had a friend in high school who diagnosed herself with leukemia using WebMD before she went to the doctor’s and got an official diagnosis. 

When you get chemo, your immune system is basically gone/severely compromised so you have to be really careful about germs, which is why MC kept telling Kamilah that she can’t touch her. 

MC didn’t tell Kamiah because she didn’t want Kamilah to worry about her and also they were together but their relationship was never officially defined so MC was scared and also MC just got diagnosed with cancer, she’s scared out of her mind, she’s not thinking properly. 

I’m definitely going to have a second part to this although I’m not sure how long it’ll be. It’ll probably be on the shorter side. 

#kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bloodbound #playchoices #My writing #lily spencer #jax matsuo #adrian raines

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 57

Chapter Summary - Alexianna has to think about her predicament and what she will do regarding it, including if she will tell Tom but she is terrified of his reaction.

WARNING - CONTAINS REFERENCES TO PAST POST-NATAL DEPRESSION

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer​​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​​ @winterisakiller​​​ @theoneanna​​​

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NOTES - So, yeah, with unplanned pregnancies, I have yet to meet a woman that does not have a huge panic attack at the situation and many are not immediately sure of what is the right thing *for them* I have to put that here, because everyone is different and everyone's reasons for their choice are theirs alone and damn it, I won't apologise for having Alexianna and Tom react as they do in this entirely made up scenario.

Alexianna simply stared at the test. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were careful, they always used two forms of protection in case one failed. She made sure that she was safe. Jonathan had refused to wear condoms on the grounds they “didn’t feel good” but Tom was the first to agree that he had a role in preventative matters also. Her eyes widened. Tom would surely have a reaction close to her own, she had ruined everything. They were happy, he had his space and his freedom but they also had each other, and now she had ruined that. A baby, another….she shook her head slightly, she couldn’t, not again. Before she had Daniel, now he had his life and she knew that he wanted that life and she could not take it from him. Tom would not want to be tied down, not like this. How could he? He was famous, children, biological children were not the same as assisting with his girlfriend’s daughter when he was available. He had been as stern as her regarding contraception, she knew kids were not something he planned on any time soon. She put the little device in some toilet paper and into her pocket to dispose of in the wheelie bin outside so it would not be found by anyone before going back into the bedroom and taking out her phone, Googling the nearest clinics before pausing.

It was Christmas eve, no doubt most of them were closed until after New Years, also, how could she ask Tom to take her to a particular centre passed several other medical centres in the area, he was by no means stupid, so instead, she Googled ones in London, she could sort it when they returned after the holidays. All she had to do was at naturally for the few days and she would be able to fix everything when they returned to London without anyone knowing anything.

The issue became that she did not act naturally when she returned downstairs. Immediately, Tom, Diana and Lily all seemed to realise something was not alright with her. It was clear to see that she was thinking of something that was stealing her attention.

“Darling? Lexi?”

She jumped slightly as Tom spoke to her. “Hmm, what, sorry?”

“Are you alright, Sweetheart? You seem completely out of sorts?”

“Yeah, just...not feeling the best.” She dismissed, which, considering the shock she had just gotten, was no lie.

“Do you need to lie down for a while? Mum has lunch on but if you’re not feeling the best, you should have a small rest.”

“I’m fine. I’m just thinking over a few things.”

“Is it the interviews? Lexi, you will do amazingly. You have a perfect record with work as it is and your college scores, as you predicted, are on track for a 1:1 with this work...Lexi?”

Alexianna’s face blanched as she thought of her degree. In her worries about her relationship, she had forgotten the job interviews and more importantly, her degree. She could not possibly have had this happen at a worse time. “Oh, God.”

“What, what is it? Did you forget something? Something to do with college?” Tom asked, terrified by her terror.

Alexianna forced herself out of her head. She was dealing with it, she had her plan so she needed to cease her madness and get on with the day at hand. “I thought I forgot something, but it’s fine. I am just a little messed up.” It wasn’t a lie, she was feeling incredibly messed up but there was nothing she could do about it at that moment.

“Well, I am glad it’s not the terrifying thing you were worried about, but please, Darling, if you are so out of sorts, go lie down.”

“Lily…”

“Would rather her Mum be more able for Santa and associated madness in the morning, I would imagine.” Tom gently took her hand and guided her to the stairs. “Her grandmother and Daddy can look after her for a while. You have been so busy with work and college, you need a rest. You looked like if you slept twenty-four hours, you could still sleep twenty-four more.”

Alexianna gave a small smile. It had been the same with Lily, her biggest issue for the majority of her pregnancy was tiredness. Before she ever realised she was pregnant, she felt tired, she hadn’t realised that it was happening again. She had put it down to study, exams and work, as well as juggling her home life, she didn’t realise her body was warning her of the hormone production required to create another child. “I probably could.”

They walked into the bedroom and Tom let go of her hand as she removed her jumper. When she took it off and folded it over the back of the chair, then turned to face him again, her heart felt like it had stopped.

Tom was holding the instructions to the pregnancy test in his hand. For a moment, he was reading it before he looked at her. “Lexi?” She swallowed. “Why…?”

“I’m sorry.” She felt the tears fall.

“Sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know how it happened, I swear.”

“You’re…” Tom realised at that moment why she was so out of sorts since the Co-Op. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m sorry.” She apologised again. “I never meant for it to happen. I’ll deal with it when we get back.”

Tom looked at her in shock. “Deal with it? You mean…” He realised what she was referencing. “Were you going to tell me?”

“I…I didn’t want to ruin us.”

“And you thought that keeping this,” he shook the piece of paper. “A secret wouldn’t ruin us? Secrets? Secrets are what ruin people. Ruin relationships.”

“I’m sorry.” She cried more, feeling even more guilty at what he had said.

Tom stopped himself from getting angry. He wanted to be angry at her for not confiding her fear with him. He wanted to be angry she had not said anything about doing a test or indeed making a decision on it, but it was clear she was terrified. She was sobbing as though someone had struck her with the worst possible words. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself that she had been trained to think this was the end of the world. Jonathan did his most damage and controlling of her while she was pregnant with Lily, of course, to Alexianna, pregnancy was world ending, it was what she was taught, even as a youth by her mother, the warning was “Don’t ever darken my door if you get pregnant”. As much as Diana feared her daughters getting pregnant too young, or her son getting a girl pregnant, she also instilled in them a rational approach to the topic, that altered the manner in which they saw the issue. “Lexi…” She looked at him, only for a moment. “Darling, please, try to calm yourself.” He walked forward slowly. “This is clearly a shock, I take it you only did this after our trip to the shop?” She nodded. “So you had no inkling before?”

She shook her head. “We were so careful.”

Tom had to admit, it was true. He always made sure not to tear the condom, he always made sure to hold it when they had finished their intimacy and discard it carefully. He knew she took her pills religiously. “Sometimes, these things just happen. We were not careless, so I know it makes it more of a shock, but Lexi, it’s alright.”

“How do you not hate me?”

Tom felt terrible, he leant forward, brought her to him and kissed her head. “I could never hate you for this, Lexi. You didn’t mean for it to happen and you cannot be to blame for it. I was there too. I very much had an active role in this. I am as much at fault.” He kissed her head again. “How long?”

“Nearly three weeks, according to the test.”

Tom remained quiet for a moment as he tried to calculate when they had been intimate over the month of December. “So...when…?”

“The night at yours alone, I think. That’s the safest bet as to when.”

Tom recalled the night and gave a slight huff of a laugh, causing Alexianna to look at him with confused and tear-reddened eyes. “Well, then I am the majority person to blame. It was my idea, I very much was the one to initiate things and I very much am the one that did the majority of the actions that put us in this position.” He chuckled. “So blame me, not you.”

“But I…”

“No, Lexi. You are not to blame for your body having the criteria to make a baby being reached. We are both adults, we both partook in consensual sex and we both took responsibility for prevention, somewhere, something did not go as it was supposed to and that happens, you alone are not to blame.” He made sure to look at her as he spoke. “I think you and I need to have this discussion away from the house. We don’t need anyone hearing this.”

Nodding slightly, Alexianna got her jumper and put it back on before following him out the door of the bedroom and back downstairs.

“Mum?” Diana came into the hallway at Tom calling her. “Mum, Lexi and I need to step out for a while, could you look after Lily?”

“Can I come?” Lily looked hopefully at Tom.

Tom knelt down so he was looking her in the face. “Not this time, Princess, Mum and I have something very important to talk about that is boring and grown up so it is best if you stay here for now. I promise, we will bring you on a spin soon, not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we will go on a spin soon the three of us, alright?”

Alexianna said nothing as she watched Tom interact with Lily. She looked at Diana who was studying both her and Tom, worried by the peculiar atmosphere that was in the air. “What about lunch?” She asked her son.

“We won’t be too long, we just need to sort something. Keep it warm.” He explained before grabbing their coats and his car keys and gently ushering Alexianna towards the door.

“Mommy, are you alright?” Lily focused on her mother’s silence.

“Yeah, I am just not feeling well, Sweetheart. Daddy is just getting me out for a while to see if that can help me in any bit.” She smiled. “I don’t want to be sick for when Santa comes tonight.”

Hearing her mother reference what Lily believed to be the greatest human being in existence, albeit a magical one, she nodded and jumped up and down. “No one wants to be sick for Santa.”

“Absolutely not, so you help Nana, and we will see you soon, Princess.” Tom smiled, kissing her head and leading them out the door.

They said nothing as they got into the car and drove off. Neither of them spoke the entire of the journey. When Tom pulled in at an all but abandoned car park facing the water, he turned off the engine and for several more moments, they remained silent.

“We need to actually talk about this, Lexi.” He began. “I want us to discuss this, so we can do what is right and not have regrets. If you want to go ahead as you plan when you get back to London, I want to be beside you, supporting you, no matter what. I cannot make this decision for us but I want to be part of it, please.”

“I can’t do this, not right now.” she looked at her hands as she spoke.

“I respect that if that is how you feel, I will not rubbish that, you are the one with the final decision here, I would never force you to do anything but can we talk through it?”

“I can’t do it again.”

“Do what?”

“Have another baby. Try and juggle it all again, this time with no Daniel.”

“Daniel isn’t here, he’s in Scotland, yes, but he would still be part of everything, you know that. And this time, if you had it, you would have me here, I would be here.” She looked at him worriedly. “You think I’d leave?” She said nothing. “Do you really think I am like him?”

“He didn’t…” She stopped when she realised how much her comparing Tom to her ex-husband hurt him. “I barely got by last time...if...I couldn’t do it again, not with two, alone.”

Tom stopped himself from speaking for a moment, he chose his words carefully so as not to upset her more, seeing she was close to tears again. “We’ll talk through the two options. If you really think it is for the best, we will go to the clinic together, a good private one where you will have the privacy to do what you wish to do and I will be there with you, a hundred per cent, but let’s talk through this. We can’t change anything today, it’s too late, everywhere is closed, if anything, this gives us time to process everything and be happy with our decision.”

“You really want to be part of this?”

Tom nodded. “I am very much part of this. As I said, I am technically the one to cause this. It was my idea, my initiating, I literally am a considerable part of this and I will play my part in owning up to the responsibility of it.” He took her hand in his. “I want to see it as you do. So, please tell me, why do you think it is the best option?”

“Everything.”

“No, come on, you can expand on it. You are the most intelligent and eloquent woman, do better than that.”

“I have not finished college yet.”

“No, you have not,a valid point,” Tom acknowledged. “You are due to finish in May. Say for a minute you went through with it, when would it be born?”

“About September? I think. I didn’t do the calculations.”

“Okay, so taking into account that, you have a few months of a window. though the morning sickness and studying for exams sound shit.” He noted. “But you are finishing your degree in May, so you don’t have any more classes after that.”

“What if I want to do a Masters?”

“You didn’t mention one before now, has that been something you have been thinking about of late?

“Not immediately.”

“Well then, that would be a bridge to think about too. If you were to do a Masters, what could we do about it? I suppose you would have to consider that. What else?”

“Work.”

“Right?”

“I want this new job, Tom. It’s better, it’s more my area of interest, I can’t apply, maybe get it then drop on them that I am pregnant.”

“They cannot discriminate against you if you are.”

Alexianna scoffed. “Not openly, Tom, but be reasonable, they can find other reasons to not choose me as an excuse.”

“Don’t tell them until after the interviews?” He suggested.

“That’s not particularly honest, is it?” Alexianna argued. “I cannot do both, a baby and a new job is not an option.”

Tom sighed. He didn’t want to shove her down a particular path she did not want. “Is that the only reason?”

“The cost.”

Tom scoffed. “I can afford that side of it, no matter what, I will pay for whatever you decide.”

“We are in two different houses. We are only together not long over a year.”

“We would obviously have to move in together so I could be there and make sure to help you with the baby and Lily. We also may only be together that long but we know each other since you were eight, Lexi. Eight years old. We know each other for almost a quarter of a century.”

“That’s the other thing, Lily.” She pointed out. Tom gave her one glance. “It is one thing saying she wants a sibling, it is not a teddy she can put in a corner. You can’t get rid of it because you regret your decision to have it.”

“Lily would love it, and you know it.”

“But what about Lily?”

“We just mentioned her.”

“No, but if...if we had a baby together, would you…?”

“Would I what?”

“Still love her?”

Tom didn’t even hesitate to answer. “Of course, she is my daughter. Lexi, I chose to be her father, I knew that come anything between us, I was choosing a role for life. She is my little girl and if we have this baby or if we choose never to have one, or have twenty, I will always love her as ferociously as I do now. She’s my little girl.” She swallowed. “I am not going to pretend that the idea of us creating this little human being that has my DNA isn’t one of the most incredible ideas in the world but even with her not sharing my DNA, nothing in this world will change how I see Lily.”

Alexianna stared at him. “You want it.” Tom frowned, his brow furrowing as he wondered what she was referencing. “You want me to have it.”

“I am not going to influence your decision.” He looked away from her.

“Tom, please.” He looked back at her again. “I am being honest with you, please be honest with me.”

Tom bit the inside of his cheeks for a moment. He needed to choose his words carefully and he knew it. His first instinct when she referenced getting a termination was the anger that she would have the baby of the man that abused her, emotionally and otherwise and terminate his child, the one they made, albeit accidentally, with a good, loving relationship. But he said nothing of that. He knew himself that he could not, it was manipulation and cruel to spit that at her. But she had explained her valid reasons why a baby was not something they were entirely ready for at that time, so he would be honest back. “I want it.” He stated. “I want our baby. Our...Even saying it, a baby, this little human being that we made. I want it.”

Alexianna swallowed. “But if I can’t…?”

Tom forced the smile he had at the idea to remain hidden. “Then, we can’t. It is that simple. You have to do the hard part, you are the one that has to try and juggle it, work and college. I can promise to do my share, and you know I will provide for it, you, our family, but you are the one that has to do more, so if you say no, then no it is. I will never hold that against you, Lexi. I promise. You have to do what is right for you, no excuses.”

Alexianna nodded slightly at his words. “Tom?”

“Yes, Darling?”

“Can I go for a walk by myself for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” He pulled the key out of the ignition which automatically unlocked the car. “I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t, I’ll get a cab back.”

“Not at this hour, most of them will be off early today. Take the time you need, I will wait here.” He insisted, terrified of her being out after dark by herself, unable to get back to the house.

“I might be a while.”

“Then I will wait a while.” He smiled. “Right here...or possibly as far as the bathrooms.”

Alexianna gave a small laugh at that before smiling. “Thank you, Tom.”

“What for?”

“Being you. Being this amazing man that is calm and rational. I would be so lost without you.”

“You’re one of the most rational women I know.” She gave him a quizzical look. “You’ve just been served a curveball, this doesn’t count.”

“Thank you.” She smiled again taking her coat out of the backseat and getting out of the car.

Tom watched as she walked along the seafront for a few minutes before she became a blur to him. He took out his phone and immediately started researching different things, processing what he was reading and his thoughts.

*

Alexianna thought over what Tom said. She thought over how she would get her exams done and though morning sickness was a nuisance, she could do it. She thought of how she would have to deal with the work issue, she wanted that other job so badly, if she could figure that out...She paused. In those few minutes, she realised that she was not as terrified as before. Tom’s support, his want to be there for her meant that she felt she could see more positives to her situation.

She wanted a child with Tom, down the road, if they were both willing. She was unsure if this was a good time but Tom did. She wondered if he knew what this would mean, the sacrifices they would both have to be willing to make. His life would not be easy either but she knew, come what may, he would not do as Jonathan did, she just knew it. He would be there, for Lily too. His immediate declaration that Lily would remain as she was to him instilled some hope in her also, but she was still scared, all she could do was think it over.

Alexianna realised she had left the seafront and was walking through the town. A few of the shops were already closed, a few more seemed to be closing. One, in particular, caught her interest. She walked in and grabbed two items and walked to the till.

*

Tom sat reading in his car. Alexianna had been gone for twenty minutes. He hoped she was thinking over her options in her head now that she had more information to allow her to make a more informed decision. He meant what he said, no matter what, he would support her. When he looked out, he recognised her warm red winter coat making its way up the seafront towards him again. He turned on the car and waited. He watched as she got in and sat beside him, a pharmacy bag in her hand. Nervously, he looked at it. “Is that it?”

Alexianna shook her head. “No, you have to go to clinics for those, they’re not available over the counter.” She explained before opening the bag. “I am still processing all of this, but…” She took out two boxes and a bottle of water. “There was folic acid in my other multivitamin, this has the recommended pregnancy amount and these are more tailored to what I need at the moment too.” She held up the two boxes and showed him, one was a folic acid supplement for pregnant women and the other was a pregnancy brand multivitamin. “I am not taking any risks.”

“Does this mean….?” Tom was scared to ask.

Alexianna bit her lips together for a moment. “If it’s a girl?”

Tom smiled. “Then I will never get a good night’s sleep again.” He laughed. “Two daughters….I am warning you now, no one will ever be good enough for my Princesses.”

#Life is a Game of Risks #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #chapter 57

[skywailer]

An Honest Communication

I’ll start this off with a feeling.  

Your throat is tight, something caught and building in the pipes.  You cannot breathe from holding it back.  Like vomit, you voluntarily choke on it to keep it in, to keep up the appearance you are fine, and to keep everyone else comfortable.  You rush to a trash can or a toilet or a sink; knowing if you don’t let it out there, you’ll let it out anywhere.  You purge yourself, and pray no one was around to see you like that.  To see the purge happen.  And if there was someone who even saw your face in the moment of realizing you were about to throw up, if there was even a chance of someone seeing you that vulnerable and afraid of showing a less than appealing side of yourself… you are the one filled with shame.  You are the one apologizing and making amends to others; meanwhile, they assure you you don’t have to do that, you don’t have to apologize for something natural.  Still… would they look at you differently had you let that ugly part of yourself out right there and then, in front of them?

There are people you trust so fully you know they would do everything to make you feel better.  They would hold your hair and body back as you throw up, to keep that poison you’re getting rid of from ever touching you again.  But then there are others who would stare, in shock or disgust or confusion.  They would either be unwilling to help, unable to, or unsure of how.  And maybe they would ask if you’re okay, and you would apologize, but does anyone mean it in the moment?  Or is it just you and them playing out your roles to keep what everyone’s really feeling tightly locked up- like the vomit you tried to hold back. It is unnatural to keep something in when it is poisoning you.  Your body does everything in its power to get rid of it for your survival.  There are all forms of bodily ejections meant to keep the good stuff in and the bad stuff out. And we do a lot to keep those ejections hidden from others: bathrooms with closed doors (which, I’ll be honest, relieves a lot of stress for myself personally), paper bags for vomit, tissues for snot and tears, a pillow for when you need to scream.  And if all else fails, your own hand to hide where it hurts.

I will not be doing much of that anymore.  Sure, I’ll still use a toilet with the door closed because, well, I like that door being closed.  But now I won’t be shying away from communal showers.  If I cry and there is not a tissue available to wipe it away, I will not use my hand.  I will not muffle my pain; unless someone is sleeping, because if I’ve learned anything these past two weeks is: sleep is vital.  I will not choke on my own vomit.

I have done all of those things in the past, and I have always put up well fortified steel walls between myself and those around me.  All in an attempt to keep anyone from fully seeing me, to prevent trust from ever fully forming, and to keep myself protected from physical and mental assaults.  I did this for the same reason I hold my mouth shut when I’m about to throw up: because I believe everyone around me will look at me differently once I let the ugly part of myself out right there and then.  They will look at me, see something they do not want to see, and leave.  

So, I preemptively leave first.  First mentally, and then physically.  My communication skills are at a rating of zero stars out of five, because I don’t think it is worth it.  Communication is an inconvenience to both parties because, in my eyes, life is a farce and everyone is playing a part.  Friendship is a character trait that can be easily scratched out with a swipe of a pen.   

Unfortunately, I instinctively wrote that in the present tense, because I’m not fully sure I can trust myself to break out of this behavior.  However, I am trying.  I’m trying by not being the one who leaves first.  I’m staying to open my mouth and let the ugly part of myself out right here and now, so we can look at each other and see something we might not want to see and make the choice to leave.

So, here it is: My mother physically and mentally abused me throughout my childhood.  For the first few years of my life, I believed my mother and father and family loved me because that is what they showed me.  My mother adored me.  My father visited whenever he could, as he was still in service to the military and had only a few chances to come to Florida and see me.  My family was supportive of my mother and helped her, and me, to make it feel like even if I didn’t have a “nuclear” family… I had what I needed.  However, what I believed changed when my mother and I moved into a new home together.  For a while, it was much the same: everyone was loving, everyone was supportive.  My father did not visit anymore, but only because (as I believed and was told at the time) he and my mother were no longer together and he was stationed in California.  He still sent me letters and gifts.  My aunts and grandparents still visited me, we had holidays and birthdays together, everything felt the same even though things were changing.

Then, the abuse began.  It started little.  Hits to the bottom (like some parents do- a spanking, right?  Normal), then belts or sticks or spoons or shoes or anything else she could grab.  Then my body had bruises in places disguised by clothing.  My body knew the shape and depth of the stairs because I had been pulled down them step by step. ��I knew the smoothness of tile and the nasty grit between them as I lay on them and tried to stifle my screams and cries while my mother told me to shut up.  All the while, I hoped someone heard.  We lived in a townhouse, our walls were our neighbors walls, so how did no one hear?  I began to believe they did not care to hear.  Because it was ugly.  I began to believe I deserved what was happening to me, or at least my mother believed I did… because otherwise, how could this be happening?  She was (and still is) such a loving teacher.  She used to be so loving towards me.  Her family cared for her.  They would never do something like this to her.  No one ever told me my mother was bad, or that my mother had reasons, so it had to be me.  I was the one who was alone and deserving of abuse.

Eventually, the physical abuse waned.  I still feared it, until the moment I left home for university, because I had been shown: whatever you think is the truth, it is not.  The mental abuse stayed on through my teen years, and made me feel like whatever I did was worthless.  Good grades meant nothing.  I was told I was a pathological liar (and for a time I was).  I was never allowed to go to sleepovers, or to go out with my friends, or to date, no cell phones, and eventually she cut off ties with the entire family.  A hostile environment was nurtured in my mind:  

“Don’t trust anyone.”

“Even your mother doesn’t want you around those people.”

“Your mother doesn’t want you to tell the truth.”

“Would they even do anything?”

I told no one the full extent of what was going on with me.  Partly because my mother threatened me, if I ever told, I would be ripped from my family and sent to strangers who definitely would not love me.  Partly because my mother informed me, if I told, no one would believe me.  So even after the physical abuse stopped, I did not have a foundation of even a brick of trust to stand on.   Even when my mother did something to rehabilitate the relationship she had single-handedly destroyed between us (like get me a dog because I was alone, and another dog because I was feeling pain after getting some teeth removed, taking me on trips because I loved to travel), I could not trust it.  I felt she was doing it to ease her own guilt.  To this day, a part of me still doubts her attempts to rehabilitate our relationship.  However, at least now I am honest with her.  

For years, I cut communications with so many people because I was tired and angry and frustrated.  I was all these things towards pretending, towards keeping up the pretense of trust and full friendship and happiness.  If people reached out, my responses only lasted as long as their hand was reaching for mine.  And even then, sometimes I would not even read messages from family or friends or pick up when they called.  I was too tired and too angry and too frustrated.  Now, I’m just tired.  

I’ve been suffering from insomnia for two weeks and only now have the ability to write this because I have sleeping pills that allowed me to get a full 8-hours of sleep last night.  Before getting that sleep and being able to write this down, and instead of being silent and harboring self-doubt and distrust in others, I used my insomnia to be productive.  I reached out to my biological family and to my friends, and told them about my abuse and about why I did not communicate with them about it or about anything at all.  I talked to them since my brain would not sleep until I did.  I have since discovered a lot about myself and about those around me.

My family has a history of abuse.  My mother learned her strategies of physical and mental abuse from her own father and mother.  My aunts were witness to this abuse and at times were subject to the abuse as well, but it is clear my mother was the target child.  As I was, since I was the only child- though, even when we had foster kids, I was the one who received the brunt of the abuse.  No one in the family decided it was important for me to know this history, and I only suspected most of the story because I have recognized that behavior is a pattern developed over time and learned from somewhere else.  Hurt and anger echo.  

My grandparents were abused.  They abused my mother and my aunts.  My mother abused me.  I used to abuse my own dog, Storm.  My grandfather was an alcoholic and went for help, and did everything in his power to be a better person to the point that he was my father figure.  My mother gave him to me as my father figure, and he was always coming over to help fix any little thing in my mother’s house and he was always trying to find ways to make me laugh and make me happy without ever knowing what was making me sad.  He passed away with my love, and with my aunts’ and my mother’s forgiveness.  My mother Rosa has done everything in her power to become a better person, like her father before her, and she has my love and my forgiveness.  My aunt Rocio has done everything in her power to tell me everything she knows about our family so I can figure out who I can trust and who I can forgive, and for that she has my love and forgiveness for not telling me what I should have always known about our family.  I hope to believe that I did everything in my power to show Storm that I was so sorry, and that I loved him, and that to this day it hurts me so deeply to know I was not there with him in his last moments.  I know he wanted me there, and I should have been there.  But I did not want to go back home to my mother, and I was not informed of his death until a month after it happened.  I hope he was at peace when he died, and my mother has since told me that he was surrounded by love.  But it will always be on my mind and in my heart that I was not with him.  But that is my burden to carry.

My family history should not have been my burden to carry.

I also reached out to everyone in my family to see if anyone knew what was going on with me, and to see who I could trust enough to speak honestly with about our family issues with communication and abuse.  I trust my father (who I am reconciling with), my mother, my aunt Rocio, and my grandfather (who I know is in heaven, if there is a heaven).  I cannot trust my grandmother or my aunt Margarita.  My grandmother took it upon herself to block me and Rocio on Facebook, to inform Margarita that she had deleted her Facebook (when I had my friend, Hollie, check on hers and verify that yes, my own grandmother had blocked me on Facebook and still existed).  She then actually deleted her Facebook the next day.  Her intentions on doing so, I will not say with full confidence because as I’ve already learned: whatever you think is the truth, it may not be until communication is had.  However, she has made it impossible for me to contact her for that communication.  I cannot trust her.  She does not trust me.  And as for my aunt Margarita, she began to yell at me on the phone when I brought up grandmother had blocked me on Facebook, and I had to hang up on her to keep the conversation a conversation.  Not a fight.  She has not blocked me on Whatsapp, but she has not reached out either after I apologized and gave her space.  So, I know who my blood family is and who my true family is.  For now.  Everyone has their bad and good coping mechanisms, and they must identify and heal from it on their own.  I am trying to heal and have identified my bad and my good coping mechanisms.

The bad: I lie to protect myself and to protect those around me.  I can manipulate a situation in order to protect myself and to protect those around me.  I shut down communication when I feel negative emotion either from myself or from the other person.  I push people away physically and/or emotionally when I feel like I am beginning to trust or love them.  I prefer to stay at home in my bed and sleep than pretend to be happy to the outside world.  I have, in the past, lashed out physically when I was in extreme pain or anger, even lashing out at those I love- like my dogs Storm and Rain and Thunder though Storm, I know now, was my target child.  I still, to this moment, vow to never be a mother because I do not trust myself to fully break the cycle of abuse. 

The good: Writing is therapeutic for me.  Before I ever let the truth out for myself by myself, I wrote it into my characters and allowed them to find happiness and love through it all.  I listen to and sing along to music to get through emotions I verbally will not express are my own.  Lewis Capaldi and Matt Maeson specifically are my spirit singers.  I love to act because it gives me a safe space to process my own emotions and to work through others’ emotions in an honest way without feeling like I, myself, have been exposed.  I gravitate towards colors that make me happy, and designs in home and photoshop that bring out happiness in me.  I take photos of things I want to remember and moments that bring me joy.  I clearly want to express myself, and find every way I can.  I teach children to be better people than those before them, to healthily express their emotions in ways that do not hurt others but allows them to process their own hurt.  I ask for and give hugs more often now, for my children and friends and for myself as well, to show them there is love and trust to be had and as a test for myself to make sure I, too, am worthy of that love and trust.  I speak the truth so I know the truth of others and of myself.  So that others may be given the chance to know their truth and heal as well.

As I started this, I will end it.  With a feeling.

Your throat is tight, something caught and building in the pipes.  You can’t breathe from holding it back. 

Don’t hold it back.  Let it out.  

Breathe.

#p;about #mental health #tw: abuse #tw: depression #abuse #family dysfunction #insomnia

[chaniters]

Villain’s exposition

Kruk suggested I should write about Cyrus’ time at the farm, so here it is. Some warnings: It’s LONG, and a lot of monologuing.

IT’s got four of the major trigger warnings. 

-TONS of SPOILERS under the cut !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-suicide -heavy self-depreciation -drugs -rape

Ortega is there to blunt the sword a bit but he ends up getting cut by it as well. -----------------------------------------------

Villain’s exposition

"What difference does it make now?"

"I want to know whatever happened to you!"

"And I already told you I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's It? I find you're a villain? THat you're a Regene? That you've been beating us senseless and you’re not going to share a single reason as to why?"

"EXACTLY!" you say walking to the door. But he's too fast, standing in between.

"NO. No, you don't! You've lied to me ALL the time. Since the moment we met you. I thought I loved you, and then you died, and I've been dealing with it alone ever since. You owe me one big fucking explanation!"

"I don't owe you anything!" you say trying to push him. But he won't budge. "MOVE!"

"Fine! I'll move!  But this is the last time I take any of your shit, you hear me? We're DONE. DONE!" He yells at your face moving to the side.

You walk through the door...

"By the way, it's your own fucking house you dumb asshole"

... fuck. He got you again.

You do the 180 turn, glaring at him.

You've never felt like this... there is a rage you didn't know existed in you. Taking over the reins.

"You know what? You win. I'm going to let you know what I've been up to these past years Ricardo." you say turning.

He's got his arms crossed, matching your glare. You walk up to his face once more, slamming the door shut behind you once more.

"You want to hear my side of the story? GREAT!" you say up close "But you better brace yourself because you're NOT GOING TO LIKE IT!" And that's an understatement.

You walk back to the living room. The lamp's still on the floor where you threw it, just like the overturned chair you were sitting on. You let him fix the mess and take the sofa. He’s still glaring at you, but you just look away. Staring contest is over. 

You can see him taking a seat next to you in the corner of your eye. Good. This will take a while.

"Whenever you're ready," he says, arms still crossed.

"You want the truth" you sigh. "Well, I'm going to give you the truth. Enough for you to fucking choke in it."

"Be my fucking guest?" he says sarcastically "If you even can say anything resembling the truth"

"Let's go. Where do we start?"

"Maybe at the beginning?"

"Great. So let's go back to 2001 when I was born..."

"You're much older than 20 Cyrus... Maybe you just physically can't stop lying?"

"Shut it. I was born out of a liquid nutrient tube in 2001 at a place called The Farm in the Nevada Desert. I was made to look 14 years old from the get-go"

"Wha...?"

"I was MADE you idiot. what part do you not understand? They didn't need a baby to perform their covert operation missions. They wanted field-ready agents"

"You mean you're..."

"Yeah... I look older but I'm just 18 years old. Surprise bitch! I'm legal this year if you still want to fuck me. Want to know which day's my birthday while at it? We could have cake and all that jazz"

"I..."

"I suggest you record this because I'm not going to do this ever, EVER FUCKING again." you glare at him. You already feel the migraine. “It hurts to even speak about this. Also, they one rule they taught me was to keep my mouth shut, so speaking about this is just...” you can’t even begin to describe how it feels right now. 

He says nothing for a few seconds... then presses a few buttons on a hidden panel on his mods. Of course. Living recorder.

"Go on"

"So it's back to 2001. I was sleeping comfortably in my tube marinating around my own bodily fluids. You know, usual perverted experiment stuff. And then BAM!. They activated me. Or more like electroshocked me, whatever the case I came into the world with a bang. But I wasn't really myself at first. I had the intellect of a potato because my mind had never been used before, not while sleeping and being grown to the ideal age. So they jumpstarted my implant... and boy, that's when all the fun started"

"Implant?"

"Yes. They put implants on our brains to impart basic knowledge. How to stand upright. How to use a toilet. The basics of speech. How to eat with your mouth shut. How to eat period. You know. Baby stuff. Because that's what we were, babies in the bodies of adults. They awoke a whole batch of us, and they immediately started imprinting memories and knowledge in our little lab-rat brains."  

"So you never had a ..."

"Childhood? Nope. Sorry, that's not for me. And of course, no parents either, It was more like a chicken factory. And not all of us came out alright. Several were discarded that night. Not that I noticed, I had more important stuff to do trying not to have my head explode with all the new information. They processed us. Got us a bath. Dressed us. Gave us our first meal, a sort of milky liquid. Actually, maybe It was baby formula for all I know.. And then they got us to a group bedroom and made us all lay down, tied us to the bed to make sure we wouldn't fall off. Then they turned off the implants not to fry our brains, and left us to our own devices." "Most of us screamed or cried all night long, because, you know, we were essentially human DNA based and our instincts told us we wanted our mommies with us. But that wasn't going to happen. Not to us."

He just stares at you, unsure if you're lying or not. Of course, he would, your truth is far more outlandish than any lie you could make about it. Perhaps you should spare the details... but no. You're mad. Let him have it all, he asked for this.

You go on, detailing how several of you simply died off over the next few days, and the doctors were just discarding the bodies as if it was the usual. Because it was, there was nothing natural about being born this way and it was an extremely traumatic experience the human body was not designed for. Because some medical machine failed. Because of some doctor's neglect of fuckup. Because you were all loaded with Hero-Drugs from birth and didn't stand the dosage long-term... Or maybe no one knew why in some cases. And you were among the "Lucky" ones and survived.  

"Then after the acclimation and basic imprinting period, we were assigned handlers and sent to classes. Speech, speech and more speech. They wanted us to talk. We were extremely fast at it, you know. Because we had baby brains back then. We learned 9 languages. Some of us even got to 12 languages or more. You know I talk Spanish. Chen doesn't know I speak Cantonese. And then school. And high school. And a few degrees. The Best education there in the farm. I'd recommend it if it also included basic rights..."

"Then there were physical classes too. Martial arts, personal defense. Combat. Guns. Driving cars. Driving bikes. Driving Helicopters. Driving whatever actually... you name it. Oh, and managing our powers too of course! And medical exams, all the time. Tests and more tests... They wanted to know everything about our abilities"

"How long did all this take?"

"Some years" you smile. "Some of us died in accidents... our handlers tried to keep us alive though. There was a big bonus for them in it."

"How was... your handler?"

"Oh, she was actually decent. Some were not so lucky," you say bitterly. He swallows, but you don't elaborate.

"Eventually they figured out my powers... They decided I was a low-key psychic, and trained me for information gathering and surveillance. And that's what made me who I am. They chose to make me a Cuckoo, so instead of dying my skin blue, they left it as is, and just tattoed my code bar on human-looking skin. So that's what it all comes to. Some stupid scientist decided I was good enough to have the get the fancy paint job. If it hadn't been like that, we'd never have even met" You smile. "Or maybe you'd have thought of me as one of those blue-skinned things that give you the creeps."

"I never..."

"Oh yes, you did. Numerous times. I threw a ton of oddballs at you to find out what you thought about regenes, and each time you made it very clear how disgusting you found my whole bio-engineered fuck-up species." he goes silent for a moment pondering on your words "Relax. Most people claim we should just be exterminated as an affront to god, so I'm pretty used to it..."

"So where was I? Oh yes. TRaining. They made an agent out of me. It was a whole big montage with a song, like in those movies. And I was happy to be their agent! I mean, they gave me drugs to make me feel good when I succeeded in my missions, and they made me drugs to make me feel sad when I failed my missions, and they gave me drugs when they wanted me to sit tight and shut up in between missions, so whatever I did, I was in high cloud nine the whole time! No don't you feel sorry for me" you smile weakly.

He shifts uncomfortably. Of course, he can't handle knowing this. But this is what he wanted, so this is what he's going to get.

"So one of the handlers didn't follow protocol much, you know? He had a harem of young female regenes that absolutely adore him, and he treated them like his personal dolls... so he..."

"What?!"

You shrug "Our bodies didn't belong to us. We were state property and he just took advantage." you smile bitterly. "So many of them took advantage... doll fuckers they called them. It was a running joke... We were almost all used one way or another by then. And we all had teenage bodies... To tell you the truth, I think they just kept us on drugs to prevent our hormones from tearing us all apart"

"Where you...?"

"Nope! I guess I wasn't funny enough, or smart enough, or good looking enough compared to my brothers and sisters... you know I actually used to wonder why they didn't like me? Made me feel so ugly..."

"That's just sick Cyrus!"

"Of course it is, but no one cared about 412's inner unresolved sexual trauma. Oh, that was my name. 412." You keep the cheerful attitude as you go through your life. You try not to ponder how long can you keep it up.

"So this handler used to talk to his doll fans about life outside the farm to impress them. And you know, when I wasn't too drugged, I actually listened. And I thought it was the best thing i had heard about in my life. Which was quite a short time actually..."

"And thus, I became an agent and took part in several missions. Most of them were just finding out stuff or making sure there we no problems for the main agents, you know. Support stuff mostly. Until they started to order more complex stuff"

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know... Steal files.. infiltrate buildings...  Also, they made me interrogate prisoners.. assassinate the odd terrorist..."

"You killed people??" he asks taken aback

"Well, I hadn't been taught to say no, you know? Didn't get the best role models."

"Hmr..."

"So I was a fine agent and all... until one of our missions went hella bad... Me and three of my friends from the orange-pinstripe-club..." you say tracing one of the lines on your tattoos "...we got captured by Russian intelligence. They killed our handler -you know, I actually miss her now that I think of it- then they tied us up and began cutting us open after using some sort of scanner. They were talking about removing our trackers...and that was VERY, VERY interesting to all of us."

You lift up your shirt to show you a small scar on your side.

"So they didn't know I was a telepath. I wasn't very strong back then, but I could do stuff if you gave me enough time and they were very close to us... When they least expected it, I made them undo our knots and my two friends took their lights out. We fled, on the back of a truck carrying bananas."

"Yikes"

"What did you expect a more elegant escape? It's me we're talking about. So we were cut loose, no trackers or so the Russians said... and well... suddenly none of us was in any no rush to go back... we could explore a bit of this real world we had heard so much about, you know? Those KGB guys did us one big favor."

"What happened to the other two?"

"Each of us took a new name... wished ourselves good luck... and split. Much better chances going our separate ways."

"You never saw them again?"

You smile at him. "We expected to be caught within days. This was just us acting up, throwing a tantrum. You don't understand the degree of control they exerted over us..."

"So how did it go?"

"Terrible. Within a day and a half, I was having withdrawal from the whole drug cocktail. Ended up on the streets, alone and it was winter. It was very, very rough and I had never been alone before, everything I tried came up wrong and I couldn't ask anyone for help. I was considering handing myself over when I met this old lady who needed someone to take care of her... and I did. She let me stay at her appartment.. and I started getting better eventually. Until she passed" you say, clearing a tear from your eye. "That's the first human I really cared for"

He nods slowly, waiting for you to go on.

"So a few months later, I was still living in her apartment alone, until Mr. Molotov moved on to the lower floor, and set up shop. Every night he worked out to make his weapons and suits, it was like a factory, I couldn't hear my own thoughts or sleep... So I had to find a solution"

"Waaait... is that why you came after me? He was too noisy?"

"You wouldn't believe how bad it was. No one complained because the building was full of squatters like me, and well... he was a supervillain. And I wasn't good enough to go toe-to-toe with him myself."

"You could have moved"

"Yeah. But they were MY apartment. That woman wanted me to have it. Why should I move? I think that's the first selfish thing I did"

"You know the rest... I got you to get rid of him, but the building burned down after the fight... found a new place to stay... and then the Eldritch mess happened and I became friends with Anathema..."

"But why did you become a hero?"

"Anathema. And you." you turn away "You were my first real friends... And I liked you... wanted to be like you. Made me there could be more to life than just surviving. That I could have my own interests.  And I kept thinking ... Maybe If i do well enough, then they'll let me be a human as well!"

"But you are!!"

"No, I'm not. I never had a childhood. No parents. I never went to school or was in a sport's team. Never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. Didn't even know how to have my own opinions for the longest time.  I'm just this thing they made to be a slave that's rebelled against them."

"You are still human!" he says holding a hand to your arm. You just pull away.

"I don't need your pity" you burst out. He retracts his arm startled by your reaction. You sigh "Shit... and we didn't even get to the juicy parts..."

"We can stop" he makes a peace offering.

"No. No, we can't, because you won't stop asking until I tell you everything, and I told you, I'm never going to do this ever again. So we're doing this" You say with teary eyes.

"Let me get you a soda," he says standing up.

"'kay," you say laying over the couch sideways. You close your eyes. Everything's spinning. But it's ok. It's under control... for now at least... Just have to keep your shit together and you'll get through this.

.............half a can of soda later.........................

"Hey... I'm sorry" you start

"No, I should be sorry," he says pacing around the room.

"For what? I've been dodging these questions for ages..."

"Yes, but I have no Idea It was so..."

"Horrible? Perverted?" you chuckle. "It gets so much fucking worse"

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to, really"

"I kind of have to now..."

"I just didn't know..."

"Ricardo... you and Anathema are among the only people that treated me like a real person... like I mattered at all. Every tiny moment of normality with you guys was something I had never experienced before. So I owe you a whole lot, You fucking know that, right?"  

He turns, giving you an odd look. OF course, he didn't know that.

"Crap..."

"I never knew that the... regular stuff meant that much to you. I just thought you were... easily impressed"

"Well I was" you smile

He nods and takes his seat once more.

"Ok, here we go again" you start.

"You know what happened next... the Psycopathor mess... that kiss.. -you both smile at it-, The Phoenix massacre... a few other stuff... then Elyise... the Nanosurge..."

"And Heartbreak" he adds when you fail to do so.

"Yeah. Heartbreak"

This is not kool. You don't even know where to begin. He holds your hand... slowly. You don't pull back this time.

"You're cold," he says taking both your hands in his.

"So that bitch... he was from the farm too. But different. He just wanted to Kill everyone. Everywhere. Including himself. I think he got off killing himself while possessing other people's bodies if that makes sense? Addicted to suicide so to speak. I'd say he was a living weapon even."

"Shit"

"You saw what he did to the city... to everyone. To Anathema" You swallow hard. "I was right there... I should have done something... should have..."

"There's nothing you could have done"

"You don't know that... I just thought Steel's Mind Dampener would protect us? I couldn't use my powers all that much, so I didn't think anyone else could. But Heartbreak... went right through it..."

"None of us knew. They sent us in the dark"

"They did. The farm fucked up big time. Releasing that thing..." you sigh. "I managed to get up to it... I walked to it and shot it. Several times... and It still wouldn't die"

"Is that when..."

"It made taste the gun. It wasn't even angry. Just wanted me to taste it... Took his time. UNtil you stopped me."

"I couldn't stop you"

"No. No, you could not" you pull back your hands and cover your face. It's too much. The fucking memories.

"Want to stop?"

"I told you, we're doing this..."

"Then scooch," he says.

"What?"

"You heard me," he says. You stand up, and he lays down on the couch, then pulls you down over him too, wrapping arms around you.

"Seriously?" you smile "This can't be comfortable"

"Whatever. Now you can go on," he says tightening his grip for a moment.

"Idiot" You feel stupid like this, but at the same time, It's somehow making you feel safer. You decide to trust him, he's the one who knows the tricks of bodily contact after all.

"I can be your idiot if you need me"

"And now you're corny too" you clear some more tears again.

Silence. He waits for you to continue...

"He... It... It broke something in my mind. Made me stop caring about life. Found all of my fears and magnified them by a thousand. I never had such high self-esteem, you know that, but... he made me see myself as this repulsive thing... Like I had no right to be alive. Just a waste of oxygen, bringing problems to everyone... And offered me a release, If i just did what he said and jumped the window. I tried to resist. Tried to hold on to the good memories but... besides you, I realized I didn't have that many... That I was just a mess." Your voice breaks for a few seconds "He must have done the same to Anathema"

"You're a human just like me. And whatever he did to you, it's not true, you know this" he says giving you a soft kiss on the neck.

Your voice turns shakey as you share the darker parts of your story...

"They took me in that ambulance... I don't remember everything. Took me back, and fixed me... and then.. then started figuring out what to do with me."

"How did they do that?"

"They interrogated me... dampened the cell. Used different methods. I asked them to set me free. I told them ..." it takes a few tries to actually say it "...I told them the rangers were going to rescue me. I told them you were going to come for me. I kept saying that... so many times… I was sure my best friend Charge would come in, beat the bad guys and we’d be off, like always… I was so fucking naive!"

You can feel his reaction. Now it's his turn to cry.

"I didn't know Cyrus... If I had known... "

"OF course you didn't… But I still kept waiting for you. And you never came. Also, as I kept insisting with that, It turned out to be a huge mistake. They panicked"

"What... why?"

"Because they knew just how close Sidestep and Charge were. They thought you had to know I was a regene. That I would have told you at some point. They were thinking you would reveal what they had done to the world."

"But I didn't"

"No. And I told them that. I didn't know what would they have done if they thought you were a security risk to them... I told them I had never told you... and they didn't believe me. So they started the... enhanced... interrogation and re-education"

"Torture?"

"Yeah. THat's the word. And also they wanted to do full medical exams and testing... very painful medical tests... They thought my powers had improved a bit. They kept wanting bone marrow. I'm not sure why. They took samples so many times... "

"Shit... shit... How long?" he asks at last.

"I have no idea. Months at least. They did waterboarding, electroshock... truth serums... chemicals... sleep deprivation, food deprivation, cold... and then they brought in the psychologists. Those can torture you pretty badly as well, you know?"  

He just holds on to you, listening to your words. You wish you could stop, but you're not finished. You have to get this out because if you don't, you'll never do it.

"They sent a new handler to oversee my... procedure. Funny thing he was a Sidestep fan back when I was in costume... So he was in charge of talking to me whenever I wasn't being dragged into some testing chamber. To be the "Good Cop"

and ... he... " you rub your eyes. This is too hard.

"What did he do, Cyrus?" you can feel he probably can already tell.

"He... used me. He fucked me. I was his plaything... He boasted about owning me with the others. I tried to get him to stop at first... but then he would beat me, and call the guards on me... and then it'd be even worse... so I just... let him. I just stopped caring."

Ricardo's gone completely motionless behind you, except for the heavy breathing on his chest. Now he's angry as well.

"I'm going to kill him... I'm going to kill him, Cyrus. I'm going to find him and kill him... " he repeats a few times. You just stay still. You used to dream about killing him, even before you left the farm.

"In the end, I didn't care. Because they reminded me I wasn't human. I was back to being a tool in their box. That's what they called this... "Induced depersonalization". Reduce us back to being what we were meant to be once more. They had a lot of experience with escapees like me. I couldn't understand why was this happening to me. Why was everything so unfair.  I just knew it was my own fault because that's what they kept telling me..."

He holds you as if his arms could heal. You can feel him trembling behind you. His tears on your neck. You knew this would break him. Why are you even telling him this? These secrets only bring pain...

"One day he came in... and told me to stop asking for the Rangers to rescue me. He told me you knew all along. That it was just a delusion of mine. That you handed me over to the Directive after Heartbreak when you saw my Tattoos. He told me we weren't friends. That you had moved on. I didn't want to believe it... but they drugged me. And then they showed me a video of you living your ordinary life. Getting awards and medals for more heroics through the city without me. You know, being happy. While I was back there"

"Did... Did you believe it?" he asks unsteadily

"Yeah. I bought theyr story. My mind was a fucking mess, they could have fed me any story they wanted by then. I hated you. I hated you so much... and I hated myself mostly, for being so stupid. That very night, I tried to kill myself. Tried to force him to choke me, even trough the dampener. I didn't even realize I was doing it... until I felt I was inside his body."

"You.."

"They stopped him. They just thought he had done it by himself. You know, he had been torturing me for months. They thought he was losing sight of his goals. They replaced him soon enough. A new handler came in, and It went on, and on... But I had learned something. I learned I could still use my powers"

"And then?"

"They started trusting me with small things again. I had undergone their "Process" so I was a loyal tool once more. They had me mess up the minds of other regenes for them. Inside the farm mind you, they weren't going to let me out again...

"Until I escaped. It's a bit blurry about how I did it... I possessed several people. I was drugged half the time too. I just remember I had someone drive me off the desert, inside a supply box... the rest is ... gone" you say finally.

"I remember I squatted a room. I was just using my powers freely then. Got drunk. Did several drugs for months. I was always hiding in filthy hotel rooms or sleeping in alleys... I just... sort of gravitated towards Los Diablos I guess"

"I saw you" you continue. "I almost talk to you... but I was... very confused. I still think you knew what had happened to me and did nothing. I thought you abandoned me there. I walked up to my Tomb, and Anathema's... And I came up with a fucked up plan to cause a new mess I guess?"

"If only I had known..."

"Yeah... well at least... at least now you know."

He sighs softly.

"Well that's.. the whole story... except for one more thing I guess"

"Tell me"

"I just... You know... Sometimes I still feel like he was right? Heartbreak? When he told me that I don't deserve to live"

"Cyrus you're a good person. You have a lot to live for."

"Do I?" you ask him a bit unsure “Because sometimes I don’t know Ricardo. I mean do you even see a future for me? One in which I don’t end dissected on a laboratory?”

"You saved the city countless times. You're a hero. I'm going to be here for you, as long as it takes. And you do deserve to live like everyone else, ok? And we’ll make a future for you. I’ll make sure of it." he says behind you.

You close your eyes. Your eyes feel watery and you just are just weak and tired. He keeps speaking, saying something meant to be comforting. He holds you tighter as he notices you're shaking all over. You can feel the warmth of his breath over your ear tough the words lose all meaning.

You're overcome once more, with that familiar sensation of pointlessness. Feeling like you're dangling over a dark bottomless pit. He's holding you now, but does it make a difference?

Does it really?

"I'm here for you Cyrus. Always" he says as if he heard the question in your mind. 

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

He stays the night. He takes you for a walk through the beach the next day and makes sure you make an appointment with your psychiatrist before leaving to work.

Life goes on, not caring you can't shake the feeling that you were hit by a bus. There's a big relief, but also anxiety. You're not sure what's going to happen now that he knows.

And eventually nothing bad happens but you can’t shake the feeling that it will. You just know it will. Still, he just grows much closer than he ever was to you.

Having someone who actually knows you accept you as you are is a whole new thing. It’s scary, and it's not going to be easy getting used to it.

The numb sensation stays with you for a few more weeks.   ____________________________ My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero spoilers #fanfiction #Long chunk of text

[blooming-atlas]

All That’s Left

Characters/Pairing: Deputy/John Seed

Plot: The bombs fall and the Deputy finds herself stuck with John Seed in the safety of his lavish bunker. A year goes by and she grieves for the lives lost. John gives her comfort.  

Rated: PG-13

Warnings: None.

A/N: I wanted to write a fic where my Deputy mourns the loss of her friends and John comforts her. 

—-

The screams of the dying pulled insistently at her, refusing to let her rest. The nightmares relentless and so, so loud. On the far fringes of consciousness Katherine knew that it was a nightmare, the same nightmare she’d been experiencing ever since Hope County was engulfed in flames. She was tired, so tired; she just wanted to sleep, to forget. 

Opening her eyes had pulled her from her nightmarish oblivion before. Why couldn’t she wake up? Fretfully the blonde resisted the urge to scream, trying to find the comfort of nothingness again. ‘I’m sorry’ she wanted to cry. ‘I’m sorry. I failed you all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’  

“Katherine. Come on, Kitten. Wake up.” It wasn’t going to stop. She tried to turn away from the chaos, but something was holding her down. “That’s right, my dear. Open your eyes.” Surrender seemed easier; she didn’t have the energy to fight. Her eyelids felt like lead, but she forced them open, and frowned in confusion at the man who was sitting on the bed beside her. His arms were braced on either side of her, holding the sheet tight; that was what was preventing her from moving.

“There you are,” he said softly. “Hello, Kitten. I was getting worried.” She couldn’t think; everything was fuzzy. Why was John Seed holding her trapped like this? Her confusion must have been on her face, because he smiled and lifted one hand to smooth her tangled hair back from her face. “Everything’s okay. But you’ve been asleep for a long time, and I didn’t know if it was normal or not, so I decided to try to wake you up. It took some doing,” he added wryly.

“What …? Why are you here in my room?” she mumbled, trying to sit up. He sat back, releasing the sheet, and she struggled into an upright position. It took so much effort that she ached. What was wrong? Had she been sick? The flu, maybe; her bones ached so, that could be the explanation.

But why was John here? A year had passed since the complete destruction of Hope County and Katherine was still not over sharing a bunker with John Seed. But he had been polite...cordial even. A far cry from the man who had tattooed WRATH on her chest. It was...almost strange to see him so placid.

“If I had to make a guess,” he said, his voice pitched to a soothing rumble, “I’d say your need for the toilet is critical. Can you make it there?” When he mentioned it, she realized that he was exactly right. She nodded and clumsily pushed the sheet away. He stood so she could swing her legs off the bed.

She didn’t have many clothes on, she thought weakly as she sat on the edge looking down at her bare limbs, but she just didn’t have the strength to care. She tried to stand and sank heavily back onto the mattress. John bent and lifted her easily in his arms. Her head drooped into the curve of his shoulder and neck, and the position seemed so comfortable that she let it stay there. She was too weak and emotionally numb to snarl at him or strike him for touching her. She was too tired to fight.

The air was cold on her bare skin, and the radiant heat of his big body was heavenly as he carried her…somewhere. She closed her eyes. “No you don’t,” he scolded, putting her on her feet. Her heavy eyelids opened and she saw that she was in the bathroom. It was large and lavish just like everything else in his bunker. “Make an effort, my dear. Now, can you manage by yourself or do you want me to stay in here with you?” Dick.

She wasn’t so tired that she couldn’t give him a “fuck you” look, and he chuckled. “I’m fine,” she said, though she heard the fretful weakness in her own voice. She ignored it. She would manage; she always had. Wrath had gotten her this far and she would be damned if she relied on John Seed for help.

“Okay, but I’ll be right outside the door. Shout if you need me.” Giving him one last glare, Katherine stood swaying in the small room after he had left, staring longingly at the bathtub and wondering if she could stand upright long enough to take a shower. It would be so embarrassing if John had to help her, handling her naked body as if she were a helpless infant.

First things first, though. She was very thirsty, but her bladder was a more pressing concern. When that was taken care of, she gulped two glasses of water, then stood with the cool glass pressed against her forehead. Her mind was still so foggy, every thought such an effort. She needed to get herself together, she felt the urgency, but couldn’t concentrate long enough to block out those feelings of guilt. All she wanted to do was sleep. Blessed sleep. She didn’t want to remember the fire anymore. She really wanted that shower a lot.

Finally the simplest thing to do was to turn on the water and step under it, clothes and all, so that’s what she did. She deliberately left the water not quite lukewarm, knowing that it would wake her up, not wanting to but accepting the necessity. She stood under the cool spray, her face turned up to catch the full blast, and let the fog dissipate. Let peace return. Let the water overcome and wash away the hot salty tears, the way a flood overcomes and obliterates a trickle.

Joseph had been right.

Katherine buried her face in her hands, sobs shaking her body. “Katherine… ?” The worried, impatient tone changed at once, became quiet and steady. “I know, Kitten. I know you are in pain. But you’re not alone now. I’ll take care of you.” The water was turned off, and John’s strong hands were on her again, helping her out of the tub. She stood dripping on the mat, her eyes still closed while tears tracked down her cheeks.

“You’re soaked,” he said, still in that soothing, steady tone. “Let’s get these clothes off—” “No,” she managed, the word strangled. “You can’t keep them on,” he chastised, but she shook her head stubbornly. “I’ll do it.” “Are you sure?” She nodded. “Okay. Just open your eyes for me, Katherine, and tell me that you can manage, and I’ll get some dry clothes for you and leave you to it. But I want you to look at me and tell me that you can do it.”

She swallowed, and took two deep breaths to control the tears. When she thought she could handle it, she forced herself to open her eyes and look up at him. “I can do it.” His gaze was piercing as he studied her, then he gave a short nod. “I’ll get your clothes. Tell me what you want.”

Katherine tried to think, but nothing came to mind. “I don’t care. Anything.”

“Anything,” left to his decision, was a pair of shorts and a cotton robe that smelled faintly of him. While he waited outside, she stripped off her wet clothes, clumsily dried herself, then dressed in what he had provided. She was rubbing her wet hair with a towel when he decided she had had enough time, and opened the door again. “Here, I’ll do it,” he said, taking the towel from her and putting down the lid on the toilet for her to sit down.

She did, and he carefully blotted all the excess water from her hair, then took the comb and smoothed out all the tangles. She sat there like a child, letting him minister to her, and the small attentions gave her a comfort she’d never had before. Numbly she realized that what he’d said was true: She wasn’t alone this time. John was with her. He had been there after the bombs dropped, and he was still there, taking care of her, lending her his strength when she had none.

“What time is it?” she finally asked. Mundane thing, but the small and unimportant were the anchors of life, the constants that held one steady. Time may not have mattered much underground, but she needed to know. 

“Almost one. You need to eat; come on in the kitchen and I’ll put on a pot of fresh coffee, then fix breakfast for you.” She remembered his shitty coffee-making skills and raised her head to give him a disgusted look. “I’ll make the coffee this time.” John accepted the rejection of his coffee with good grace, being used to it. She was coming out of it; she could say anything she wanted about his coffee. She was more alert, though her face was utterly colorless, except for the shadows under her eyes, and the soft glow of her hair.

He put his arm around her waist to support her as they slowly made their way to the kitchen. She leaned against the cabinet while she made coffee, then sat and watched John competently assemble a meal of toast, bacon, and a scrambled eggs. She ate a couple of bites of eggs and bacon, and one slice of toast. John ate the rest. When she crumpled, without a word he scooped her onto his lap and held her while she sobbed in his chest.

I’m here.

#ch; deputy katherine #deputy x john seed #john seed x rook #far cry 5 fanfiction #i wanted to write something really soft and sweet #far cry 5