#sigh. not to mention my failures with actual relationships

[noceurous]

get you back

summary: You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.

warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, semi-drunkenness, carsex (18+), fingering, oral, swearing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it), fuckbuddy!bucky, dbf!bucky, implied age gap, mention of bad boyfriends (not bucky), using nicknames (princess, bunny) , slight degradation - nothing physical, some mention of food

minors dni

a/n: yes I AM BACK. please leave some comments/reblogs. thanks!!

A loud snap of fingers made you turn your head to him. “Are you even listening to me?” You sighed, pressing fingers on your temples to look like you were trying to remember.

No, you weren’t listening. You were thinking how that hot guy was about to give you his number, before James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the actual devil, snatched you away. Leading you to his car without giving you a chance to say goodbye to the best body you have ever seen.

You. Hated. James. Bucky. Barnes.

“Something about… bunnies?” You shrugged as you turned your head back towards the road. Even though it was almost pitch black, you fought your urge to look at his profile under car’s lights. Even though he was angry and sleepless he looked better than all the guys you’ve ever known.

“Really? You are not even trying kid.” He said as he emphasized on the last word. He knew how much you hated the nickname.

“Stop calling me a kid. I’m not that young.”

“I will stop calling you a kid, when you stop acting like one. What were you thinking? What was the point of all that drinking? Get my attention or liver failure?”

The point was to get over your ex boyfriend finding someone before you did. You didn’t want to be the one who was stuck in an ended relationship.

You weren’t even prepared to the idea that he would start dating in a few months. His post just popped on your phone while you were scrolling through pictures on Instagram. Selfie with her, cheek to cheek and smiling like a true dumbass he is.

Getting ass drunk would be a nice way to forget. But you shouldn’t been too drunk to start texting and calling other people.

Especially calling the guy you hated the most. Because he would show up just in time, and yank you away from the guy you were flirting with.

You really shouldn’t have drunk texted your on-again-off-again hookup. Neighbour of your parents, a close friend of your dad.

It started just a few days after your heartbreak. You weren’t sure of how it started, but you remembered how it ended. In his bed, literally begging him for letting you cum as he pounded into you like an animal.

When you weren’t fucking, all you did was argue. Arguments about when to meet up or where to meet up… You hated meeting up in his place, so close to your parents. And he hated meeting only for an hour max.

You started fighting and decided to not meet up again. Either of you got tired of all the lies and secrets. It was you more than it was him. Bucky was always sure you would come back to him one way or another.

“Remind me not to call you again.” You huffed, resting your head on the window. Sun was about to shine in a few hours and all you wanted was to get into your bed. All you needed was forget the day and move on.

“Sure your parents would be thrilled to know their daughter would end up in jail for DUI.” You turned your neck so fast that it hurt.

“I wasn’t going to drive the car!”

“You getting into car of a drunk idiot is stupid enough too!”

“Stop acting like you are my dad! He was fucking hot, and he told me his place was really close.”

“What made you believe in him? I know what that kind of guy thinks. It is only getting you to the bed. You would be considered lucky if he bothered to call you the next day.”

“So? What made you think I am not okay with it?” You saw all the blood rushing to his cheeks, decorating them with a soft pink hue.

“Okay...” He said trying to not go any further with that discussion.

You dropped your shoulders, when you saw how his grasp on wheel tightened and his jaw clenched. If you didn’t know him that well, you would say he was offended.

Whether it was because of anger towards him or how tired you were. You didn’t say anything back but leant your seat back to at least sleep for the rest of the ride.

“Oh no princess, you are definitely not sleeping.” He said just before he slapped your thigh. Small ‘Hey!’ fell from your lips. It was fair to expect him to snap and say you crossed a line.

You yanked your leg away from his grasp. He shut you up before you could say anything back. “You made me get all this way three in the morning. Ofcourse there would be consequences.”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” You said as you rubbed your thigh.

“You sent me a picture of you lifting your skirt and texted all those things you want to do with me. But when I come to pick you up, I saw you on the lap of some dickhead.”

“I was horny. We’ve decided to stop with fooling around. Life moves on James.” As you finished the sentence, his foot stepped on the pedal so quick that he had to use his arm to stop you from falling forward.

“Get in the back of the car.”

“James, I’m tired.”

“Get in the back, or I will make you bunny.” You didn’t said anything back. Bucky never called you bunny, if he didn’t have something on his mind. You knew better than to take the risk of getting him angrier.

You rolled your eyes before unfastening your seatbelt. He caught the sight of your underwear as you bent over to move through the gap between the seats. Even though Bucky saw your pink thong, you acted like you had the upper hand.

“Take off your skirt.” He said before coming next to you. He almost yanked off the door before squishing you on the backseat.

He pulled you by your legs, making you lie down. The cold leather of the seats caused goosebumps on your skin. That and you knew what he was capable of when he was angry.

And he was pissed.

“Not so tired ha, bunny?” His large hands wandered along your legs, moving slowly towards your hips.

A loud noise of your gulp echoed in your brain. You could get used to that view. You legs hooked to his shoulders. His charming face inches over your lucky thong.

“Tell me again bunny.” He said as his eyes locked on your figure under his, trying not to smirk at the wet patch on your thong.

“Tell you what?” You asked. Blinking at him with nothing else on your mind.

“Tell me again the last thing you told me before breaking up with me. So I would not have my way with you.”

“Uhm...” He started kissing on the top of your thighs. Index finger was tracing your slit over the thong.

“We can’t keep doing this and not expect one of us getting hurt. Ah-“ He bit inside of your thigh, sucking a gentle bruise. “James.”

He didn’t listen to you. If he ever did that was not it definitely.

“I’m listening. Continue.” Kisses, soft bites started decorating your body.

His hands placed next to your waist. His teeth brushed along the band of your thong. You wanted to raise your hips. But the way he looked up at you, the darkness in his eyes, made you stop.

You licked your lips, closing your eyes to concentrate. “We continue lying to our close ones and soon enough the lies would get out of—“ You stopped as he curled his finger like a hook to pull down your thong.

He mumbled something that you were sure was Russian as he got close to your heat. His eyes looked into your eyes. You knew he was daring you to stop.

If you stop I’ll stop too bunny.

He didn’t need to speak for you to understand.

“—hands. Lies get out of our hands. It is too risky and it does not worth it. We both know that this affair does not take LONG!”

He licked a stripe over your slit. As his cold fingers separated your folds. He loved to torture you like this.

“I don’t want any of us to get hurt.” You manage to finish your speech as you felt the familiar tingles build up.

The tip of his tongue flicked your clit and you had to hold on to something, his hair, to stop your thighs to close around his head.

“See this is where you are wrong, bunny. There isn’t any chance where you can hurt me...” He said as his fingers collected some of your juices, raising them to his lips. “Unless you try to neglect me of your sweet nectar.” He sucked his fingers clean, you heard a tiny ‘hmm’ as his fingers touched his tongue.

He raised his head to look at you when he was circling around your weeping hole. “Answer this, do you want to hurt me bunny?” He wanted to make you weep as much as your pussy.

“N-no. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then why you try to break things off?” The tip of his finger slowly pushed into your whole. He pulled it back before you could enjoy this. “Are you going to try and break things off again?” Another question he didn’t need to hear its answer to. He could read it from your tearful eyes and slight pout. “Oh bunny.” He whispered to himself, pride filling his chest.

His finger went back to circling around your hole as he used another one to toy with your clit. You could not stop yourself from curling your toes and try to pull him closer.

That arrogonat smirk on his face made a comeback. “Are you going to flirt with other guys who I’m sure does not even know what a clit is?” You shook head your again and he pressed his thumb.

“Fuck.” You said as you squirmed under his touch.

“Not the answer I am looking for. Do you want to try again bunny?”

“I—I’m not going to flirt with other guy a—and ohgod!” He pushed one inch of his finger inside curling the tip so it would reach your spot. You didn’t stop so he wouldn’t either. “I’m not going break things o—off.”

One more inch and you knew you would start to drip onto seats. Before you knew it, his mouth got back onto your clit. “James!” You said again as you pulled onto his locks.

“Shit! It’s only been a week but your pussy is crying out f’ me.” He said as he stood back up.

Your legs started shaking by the time. You whimpered at the lost contact of his fingers and lips. You also missed seeing him with your thighs wrapped around his head.

You knew if you touched yourself he would bite your fingers and deny you any sort of release. He quickly unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxers just low enough to take out his cock.

The tip was swollen red it was starting to leak some precum as he pressed it on your clit. “You are an attention whore bunny. It’s been only a week and I find you cosy with another guy. This deserves punishment don’t you think?”

“Please! I’ve been just trying to get your attention.” He smiled at your confession as he aligned his tip.

“Tell me you are mine and mine only. If you tell me that, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’m yours James. I’m only yours, I do not belong to anybody else.” He started slowly push into you.

He leaned over you to fix the hair got on your face. His lips brushed along yours when you moaned as he found the spot. Your legs started to got down but he held them back. Pushing your bent knee to your chest as he started moving.

His hips started rutting into you slowly. “So pretty like this bunny. All spread out for me.” His tongue darted out from his lips to giving you a longing kiss. All teeth and tongue, full of lust and desire.

His large hands pulled down your strapless top, letting your tits out. His tongue clicked on top of mouth. “And thinking I would be sharing them with some dickhead.” He pushed into you hardly, making you jump into his arms.

“I don’t share bunny. Never.” You knew he meant more with those words.

Air inside the car was getting thick because of your panting. His fingers started playing with your nipples to get them erect as he held your tits together and started licking and sucking both of them.

“Not the teeth ah!” You tried to protest but he had already sunk his teeth into your extra-sensitive flesh. Sweet melody of your cries caused him to increase speed. He wanted more.

You yelped as you tried to find something to hold onto, best thing you found was the back of his shoulder as you pressed your nails against his skin. Bruises and scratches would be greeting both of you as first thing in the morning but it didn’t bother you as long as it came with pleasure.

“FuckFuckFuck!” Familiar coil started to form under your belly button, and you threw your head back. “James, please please…”

“Wanna cum bunny? Is that it? Mumblin’ because you are too close?” He said after detaching from your nipples with a pop. The little numb was all swollen and covered in saliva.

“Y-yes oh.” He slammed his hips onto yours with more force and stayed pressed into you. “Cum for me bunny. Cream all over my cock, fuck, you filthy girl, so eager for a release.” He said as he stopped your wriggling hips against is. “Humpin’ me like a cute lil’ bunny.”

Your hips started moving involuntarily, chasing after your release. He helped you with continuing the pound into you. You were chanting his name unable to form more coherent words or sentences.

“That’s it bunny. Cum for me come on! I’ve got you.” Just after he was finished your release hit you like a wave, causing you to lose all the control of your mind and body.

But he didn’t stop, he increased his pace. Chasing his own release using your numb body. “‘So pretty like this bunny. Makes me want to keep you all to myself.”

“I’m all yours.” You whispered, truly meant it. As you became used to the swell on your chest each time you look at him.

You were really his.

“Yeah? Are you going to take my cum? Let me breed you? I’m sure you would love that don’t you bunny? All swollen with my cum, looking at me with those pretty eyes. Fuck!”

“Yes, yes yes give it to me please.”

“Fucking take it. You little cumslut.” You felt the wetness and warmth of his release shoot right inside of you.

He stood there with your legs wrapped around his waist. Looking at your tired and ruined figure. Taking the sight in just before he slowly pulled out.

“We—“ You tried to speak up, trying not to show him how much you missed his cock inside you already.

As he was putting his clothes back on you once were aware of this situation.

There was no We, you two were just fucking whenever one of you needed some release. No matter what you do to get his attention, all you would get was his dick pounding into you. It won’t be his heart.

Sound of glove compartment’s being closed made you raise on your elbows to look at him.

You saw him take out some tissues to wipe off his leaking cum. “Are you on the pill?” You shook your head, you knew how those were messing up with you. “I’m not ovulating, it’s fine.” He shook his head, “Still gotta get you some plan B. We shouldn’t be risking it.”

“Sure.” You tried to swallow the ache in your throat, and your pride.

You fixed your top and found your thong on the ground, raising it to put it on. Tension between the two of you was so thick that a saw could not even cut it.

He got back on his seat and started the engine. “The sun is about to rise, I can drive to a diner and got us some breakfast. There is a place I know makes your favourite. They are also good at making it.” He couldn’t hide his smile when he saw your smile at the mention of the food. He loved making you smile like that.

Sleep was the last thing on your mind, since he fucked your brains out. Since it had been more than 10 hours since you last ate something; growling sounds from your stomach was about to come. “Sounds good but I want to wear my skirt first.”

“Sure bunny.” He said as he tossed your skirt back to you.

And it was a second, just a second, that he felt like he could get used to it.

He could get used to having breakfast with you. He could get used to your face being the first thing he saw as he started his day. He could get used to having sex with only one person, someone really means something to him.

But when your phone buzzed, and he saw your dad’s name on the screen he got back into reality.

You sent it to voicemail, and leaned closer to him over the table. He saw the same smile again on your lips and the familiar spark on your eyes.

“So what do you say? Your place or mine?”

He smiled back at you, leaning over you. “Which one do you prefer, bunny?” He knew he could go on as long as you looked at him like that.

As long as you looked at him with love. Even if you were just realizing, he was already an addict for it.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dbf!bucky #dbf!bucky barnes smut #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes series

[lovergiirlsblog]

Deep end

Summary: Y/N who’s struggling with infertility started to distance herself from Mason. How will the Chelsea boy react ? Will they work It out in the end, or have they already fallen into the deep end ?

Warnings: Mention of infertility, a lot of angst

Note: This made feel so emotional. Hope you like it. Also I might make a part 2 of it.

Please listen to this song while reading

Negative.

Once again, negative.

I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror: red rims around my puffy,bloodshot eyes , rosy nose and cheeks. I’ve been crying for an hour now. I sighed and unlocked the bathroom door after throwing the pregnancy test in the bin. Mason and I have been trying to have a baby for a year now but every single test we did turned negative. And I’d be lying if I say that this whole situation hasn’t affected our relationship . We’re not who we used to be, and I don’t know if we can ever go back to the couple that we used to be.

I grabbed my phone to find a text from Mason.

From Mason:

Stacey is home. I invited her and the whole family :)

To Mason:

Of course. I’ll prepare dinner.

I no longer tell him about the test results. It’s something that I’ve decided because what’s the point of telling someone over and over again that he won’t be a father?That he won’t have a kid to teach how to play football. He always plays tough when he’s around me but I know it’s killing him too. I,once,heard him gasp from crying when he thought he was alone at home. And honestly,I don’t want him to be torn every time. I kept the grief to myself.

When Mason is around I always try to act occupied with work or sleep early just to avoid him. I don’t know why but I often find myself refusing his sex offers,thankfully he was understanding and never forced me to do something that I don’t want to.To me making love isn’t about having fun with the man you love anymore, it’s just a procedure to get pregnant… but will always end with disappointment.

Sometimes I look at him and think: Won’t he be happier with someone else ? Won’t someone else give him what he needs whenever he wants to ?

“Hi” he whispered when he walked in the kitchen.Hi, good morning, good night is all that we say to each other lately. “Hi” i greeted him without making eye contact. I can’t look at him. His eyes remind me of my failure. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. How the hell did we turn into strangers that live together? “ I, um, I’ll be upstairs. They should be here in an hour” he mumbled awkwardly,scratching the back of his head. I nodded and watched him disappear upstairs. I finished dinner and changed minutes before the doorbell rang. When I went back downstairs I found Mason opening the door. Summer,Poppy and Harley jogged towards him and wrapped their tiny arms around his legs. He lifted them one by one to plant a kiss on their cheeks.

“Aren’t you going to greet us Y/N” I didn’t realise that I was staring at Mason and the kids when Lewis joked. I hugged him tightly and explained” I’m sorry. I blacked out. Hello everyone please come in” I squeezed all of them and we all went to the living room. I grabbed some drinks and snacks and sat next to Mason who had Summer on his lap. They were both laughing. Every laugh breaks my heart a little bit more.

“ Since you’re home now,will you come to Stamford bridge and watch me play ?” He addressed to Stacy who was wiping Poppy’a mouth with a napkin. His arm wrapped around my shoulder-just like the old days- and it’s the first physical touch we had in a while. I didn’t push his arm away actually, it was the first time that I feel comfortable with him touching me. Maybe because we weren’t alone?

“Of course I’ll come to watch my baby brother”

An hour later,I,with the help of Lewis and Stacey,set up the dinner table. And we started eating.

“So how are you two,love birds?” Mine and Mason’s gaze landed on Stacey and we both faked a smile “We’re okay” we said at the same time.

“Are you staying in England for a long time ?” I tried to have a conversation with her to break the awkward silence and be a good host.

“I’ll leave right after New Year’s Eve. By the way the food is so delicious.”

“I know right. She makes the best food. Mason is a lucky bastard.” Lewis quipped.

“I know I am“ I glanced at him and frowned my eyebrows.

“Thank you guys.I’m glad you liked it”

The kids finished first and wanted to play with Mason while Debbie insisted that she will clean the table. We watched as Summer covered Mason’s eyes from behind and innocently asked him to guess who’s behind him. “Um.. I’m not sure.Is it Lewis?” He played along making them giggle so hard “ No.Uncle Mase it’s me Summer”.

I found myself smiling so big, but I looked away when my eyes met his.

“He’s so good with kids. I’m sure he’ll make a great father one day.” Stacey rested her head on my shoulder”Are you considering having kids ?” I looked down at her,her gaze was still on Mason and the kids.

“I-I can’t-“ I didn’t know what to say but thankfully Jasmine unintentionally saved me “ Can we go home ? I’m so tired and sleepy”. We said our goodbyes and they immediately went home leaving us alone,again. After closing the door,Mason approached me ,wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close without any warning. “Mason-“ I tried to gently push him away “Mason please”. He stopped and looked in my eyes. His eyes were full of hurt and devastation. “I can’t even hug you now ? Great. That’s great!” He laughed in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you tell your family ?” I ignored his sentence.

“ tell them what ?” He frowned.

“ That I can’t conceive.. that I can’t give them what they want. That I can’t give YOU what you want” my voice cracked.

“ Why do they need to know ? » he sighed « We’re young Y/N and we can always try again if that’s what you really want.I still have hope.”

“Hope?” I laughed “Hope is the most devastating thing. Hope is cruel.”

Would I be this shattered if I didn’t have hope ?

“ Kids aren’t what I want anymore. You know what I badly want ? I want my wife back. Yes I would be happy if we had a child but I would be happier if i still had the old Y/N.Whoever is standing in front of me right now isn’t the girl that I loved. I feel like I don’t know you anymore Y/N. Are we together just to have kids ? What about love ? What about you and I Y/N ?” He ran a hand through is hair” how did we end up like this ?” His voice was full of hurt. I looked down at my feet and mumbled”The girl that you loved won’t come back. I’m sorry.” I stared off into the distance,trying so hard to hold back my tears.

“That’s all you got huh ? I want to help you Y/N, but you keep pushing me away. Do you think I didn’t notice you crying in the bathroom whenever you think I’m asleep ? I didn’t want to force you into talking about it I wanted you to willingly open up to me so we can work it out together but you never did. And I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sick of you treating me like a stranger.”

He shouted,fist pushing the wall and walked out of the house leaving me sobbing with my head in my hands. Of course he’ll get sick of this. But he’ll never understand how worthless I feel when he slightly touches me. I don’t know why he has never lost hope or why he has never given up on me.

Four hours passed since he left and I was starting to worry. Has something bad happened to him ?

To Declan:

Hi sorry for bothering you but I wonder is Mason at yours ?

From Declan:

No he’s not here. Is everything alright ?

To Declan:

Yes. Don’t worry. Good night Dec !

I put my phone on the sofa when I heard the sound of keys in front of the door and rushed to open it and reveal a very drunk Mason leaning on Ben. His eyes were so tipsy, I’ve never seen him this drunk before. After putting him on the bed and going back downstairs Ben stated” Look Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on between you both but Mason isn’t okay at all. He has been playing like shit lately if you haven’t realised it yet. Also he usually never drinks when we have training the next day but look at him now.. Potter is going to scold him so bad tomorrow” I bit my nails titling my head down and nodding “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry Ben. Thanks for telling me”

I grabbed a glass of water,and walked to the bedroom where he was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling “Here drink this it might help” I handed him the cup.”Y/N?” He called”Why don’t you love me anymore ?” His words hit me like knives,straight in the heart.Did I really cause all this damage? He doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. He deserves so much better. So much better“ I still love you”

He chuckled taking a sip from the cup of water “weird way of showing it” I helped him take off his shoes and change into something more comfortable. “You need to rest Mason. We’ll have this conversation tomorrow when you’re sober enough”

“You don’t even look into my eyes when I’m sober enough” he wiped his eyes” I’m trying to help you heal Y/N. I can’t lose you. If you need space I’ll give it to you, just please don’t leave me” his voice became weaker and weaker as he shut his eyes. His soft snores were heard minutes later. I pulled the blanket to his chest and pushed the hair that fell on his sweaty forehead. “I’m so sorry for burning us down” a tear fell from my eyes and landed on his cheek.

I put my luggage in my car as soon as the sun rose and left a letter on the nightstand next to Mason.

Dear Mason,

I’m sorry I left without telling you. But it’s honesty what I needed. I wanted space so I can figure out our future together. Unfortunately, I couldn’t accept the fact that I am infertile, and it makes me feel less of a woman and I’m deeply sorry for treating you that way, I let my selfishness take the best of me. Every time that you try to get closer, I get flashbacks of how I felt the last time that we tried and had a negative result. You, my dear Mason, are the most important person in my life and I can’t thank you enough for trying to help me but no one can help me except myself in this situation. I promise I’ll be back weather as the old Y/N that you knew or with divorce papers. You don’t deserve to go through this Mason,so if I will still feel the same, I’m afraid I’ll let you go. You can be happy with someone else and start a family. Until then, I love you more than life. Please try to understand and don’t be mad.

PS: I left some painkillers on the nightstand x

Yours sincerely,Y/N.

#football imagine #footballer #footballer fanfiction #footballer imagine #chelsea imagine #fanfic #football #ben chilwell #mason mount x oc #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount angst #mason mount smut #dad!mason #jude bellingham #mason mount one shot

[chainbakery]

summary; his hands are the opposite of flawless, skin decorated with scars. you want to learn more about him, and help him when he needs it.

gn! reader, established relationship, very light angst in some parts, mention of injuries and blood, but mostly pure fluff.

note: it's been quite a while since i last wrote for lu, so characters may be ooc.

FOUR doesn't have any gruesome scars, he sees himself as one of the few lucky heroes who were able to avoid such marks.

That doesn't mean his hands are free of scars. As a smith, he had to learn from his own failure and slip-ups when working.

His hands mainly have some scars of cuts he ended up ignoring for too long, an almost unnoticeable burn mark and, although not a scar, he usually has a bruise somewhere too.

As good as he may be with his work, sometimes he ends up hurting himself.

Overall, his hands are small but a bit rough, and he has a very strong grip. None of his injuries was deep enough to cause any real damage.

"So, how did you get this one?" You pointed at the faded burn scar, painted a pale pink against his skin.

The hero hummed, lost in his memories for a few seconds, searching for the answer to your question.

"I think it happened when I tried to help my grandpa. I was very young then, and didn't think twice before reaching out to grab something... I don't quite remember what it was, but my grandpa warned me too late and I ended up burning part of my hand."

Four sighed, but a fond smile appeared on his face. "For two weeks, every time I tried to help him with something in the forge he'd tell me to go outside or visit Zelda, else I'd end up burning my whole hand when he wasn't looking."

You laughed, fingers softly tracing the light burn mark. "That definitely sounds like your grandfather."

HYRULE has many scars, although most of them aren't that bad, especially those decorating his hands.

He has some left by cuts and scrapes, none of them serious enough to affect his movement.

Most of them are from exploring. Be it climbing, slipping and falling, or touching something he shouldn't.

Now he's a bit more careful, because of the blood issue.

Doesn't mean he won't end up with a few new scars after some time, but he makes sure to heal them quickly.

"Did it stop bleeding?" The traveler asked, unable to see the cut himself as you finished cleaning it.

"Yes, but make sure not to touch it too much, just in case." Your lover nodded, a hand reaching out to grab the cloth from your hands.

"It'd be better to burn this." The cut wasn't too deep, so he was more worried about getting rid of anything with his blood. The scars you had seen many times in his hands told you enough.

Before Hyrule left to make a small fire for the cloth, he turned to leave a kiss on your cheek. He looked at you with a smile and rosy cheeks.

"Thank you for helping me, I feel a lot better already."

LEGEND had scars almost everywhere on his body, although not many from serious injuries.

His hands weren't really scarred, a few cuts here and there, some scrapes. The usual.

But, sometimes, in the middle of the night, he thinks that he should have a few more scars. Yet a dream is just a dream.

His rings cover up some of the cuts, and make it a bit more difficult to notice the lighter lines on his skin.

A part of the scar in his right arm reaches his palm, but it's not much.

"This one almost looks like a ring, too." You smiled at him, tracing a scar on one of his now ringless fingers.

"Does it now?" The veteran was more focused on your fingers than his own, so soft and warm against his skin.

"Yeah, how did you get it?" Your question made him shake his head with a grin.

"If you're waiting for an interesting story, you'll be disappointed. I just cut myself while cooking."

"I'm not disappointed, actually, that means I shouldn't leave you to cut anything, least you'll end up cutting your whole finger." You teased him, smirking when when he huffed.

"I'm not so clumsy, and it only happened once."

SKY definitely has a good amount of cuts and scrapes decorating his hands.

When he started carving wood, he'd slip up pretty often until he got used to it.

He also has lighting scars decorating his skin, from his hand to the middle of his arm.

Overall, he doesn't have many scars that aren't from his hobbies or his adventure.

Some of them may also be from when he was learning how to use a sword, but very few.

Once again, his hand moved to intertwine your fingers, his thumb caressing your skin as always.

"Sky, I'm trying to clean the cut, doing it like this is uncomfortable." The small injury was on the back of his hand, but the position didn't let you clean it well.

"Ah, sorry, it was a reflex." Your lover's smile made it a little hard to believe, but you didn't comment on it.

Finally, he let your hand go and didn't move until you finished cleaning the wound. It wasn't usual for him to cut himself while carving anymore, as he had been doing it for years.

"So, why were you so distracted?" You asked, putting a bandaid on his cut. If he was going to continue carving, you'd rather he didn't with an infected wound.

You looked up at him after hearing a soft chuckle, meeting his warm eyes and the sweetest smile you had never seen on anyone else.

"Your beauty distracts me."

TIME's hands have many scars, even if he knows there should be more adorning his skin.

Scrapes and cuts, scratches matching the one on his knees from the times he fell as a child.

The scrapes that formed after falling to the ground, a day of playing tag with his family from the forest, were scars with good memories.

The cuts from his adventure weren't so happy, but he had learned to avoid mulling over it.

Some wounds were deeper than others, and with the years it can be a bit harder for him to move his hands properly, especially in cold weather.

"You don't have to do this, dear." Your lover looked at your hands trying to cover as much as they could of his own.

"I want to. I know your hands hurt, even if you try to be subtle about it." You knew him too well, he realized with a defeated smile, letting you warm his hands.

You stayed in the same position for a while, your hands rubbing his to try and make sure his skin would warm up, at least until Twilight returned with some gloves for the oldest hero.

"All of you have so many things, yet no gloves that are actually made for this weather." You muttered with a huff.

"Most of those aren't the best for fighting, I'm afraid." An amused smile appeared on Time's face when you continued complaining about how he should take proper care of himself during times like these.

A part of him hoped that his descendant would take a while longer to come back, as your hands were much better than gloves.

TWILIGHT isn't a stranger to scars, he has some from before and after his adventure.

The rough shackle from when he was imprisoned as a wolf left a few marks around his wrist, and there are some scrapes from the rocks or even glass he had touched.

Some cuts here and there from training with his sword, others from accidentally touching something sharp.

His hands are pretty rough and strong, and also very warm.

No scars from serious injuries, mostly just small wounds.

The hero would be lying if he said that he didn't love the feeling of your finger tracing the scars in his hands while he kept watch, but you needed to sleep.

"It's late." He insisted, even as his eyes couldn't look away from the little shapes you drew on his skin. "You need to sleep, I'll join you once my shift is over."

"I want to stay with you until then, and we can sleep after you wake up the next person." Your words made your lover sigh.

You looked up at him with a confused expression when he moved his hands away from yours, only to feel a gentle push and meet the wolf fur that always rested on his shoulders.

"You can rest like this until I can join you, but I won't let you stay awake so late." Between the warmth from his hand on your shoulder and the fur caressing your cheek, you couldn't say no.

"Good night. I love you." His lips pecked your forehead as his hand softly squeezed your shoulder, and he went back to keeping watch with a new warmth in his cheeks.

WARRIORS has lots of scars, and his hands aren't safe from them, it isn't a surprise.

The most serious one is on his left hand, a burn mark reaching all the way from the back of his hand to his elbow, a gift from one of his enemies during the war.

Other than that, he has some cuts and scrapes, most from his time as a soldier and very few from before.

He has one or two from surprisingly deep paper cuts when he was managing some documents.

He tries to take care of his hands, especially his left since that one ended up losing a bit of feeling.

The captain's gaze was soft as a warm smile was painted on his face. You were unaware, all of your attention on applying the cream on the burn that covered his hand.

"You didn't have to." His voice lacked any arrogance, the moment so domestic that he couldn't help but wear his heart on his sleeve.

"I like taking care of you." Your words made the hero's heart beat faster, even as you said it so casually. "We need to buy more cream soon, do you think they'll have some in the next town?"

"Maybe, or at least something similar." Warriors hummed. "We can look around the nearest town."

You nodded as you finished applying the cream. Your lover's skin needed to be taken care of properly, who knows what could happen in a fight if neither of you made sure of it.

He appreciated how much you did for him, ignoring his arrogance and taking care of him, no matter how many times he said he was fine. It could be a little annoying when you forced him to admit that he wasn't, but a part of him would thank you every time.

WILD has a myriad of scars, that's pretty obvious from just one glance.

But, surprisingly, the burns from the guardian beams didn't reach his hands, the closest scar ended at the start of his wrist.

He has many scars of cuts and scrapes though, especially from the start of his adventure.

He was quite clumsy and often touched rough surfaces, or fell, or simply grabbed something he shouldn't.

And cuts from when he started cooking, many cuts.

"Were you really bad at cooking back then?" You asked the blond, not believing his words as you saw him cut the vegetables so swiftly.

"Yeah, I had to learn most things from zero." He pointed at his head when he finished cutting. "Memory loss."

"But your body still remembered how to fight, right?" Your lover hummed.

"I guess... he didn't cook." You knew who he was referring to. "So I had to learn, and become the best chef to make sure no one in this group would die from food poisoning." His last sentence made you laugh, causing him to smile.

Wild offered you a spoon full of the soup he was making.

"Here, taste this, and you'll have to agree."

#linked universe x reader #lu four #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wild #lu legend

[pedroscurls]

Title: The Teacher (Part 9).

CHAPTER TITLE: Sarah Miller

Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader Summary: Joel tells you about Sarah. Word Count: 2,231 Author's Note: This chapter meant a whole lot to me. I cried while writing it actually... Grief is... It’s a complicated feeling and it was very cathartic for me to write something like this. So, I just wanna thank everyone who’s still reading (and being patient with me -- I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated this). I hope you all enjoy. Warning: talks of grief, losing loved ones (child loss especially), mentions of violence and death (more specifically sarah miller’s death)

“I had a daughter. Her name was Sarah.”

You could tell from the look in his eyes that this was a subject he didn’t like talking about, but here he was, being completely open and vulnerable with you. He stood up, which you followed suit, and noticed how he wasn’t looking at you. He was pacing back and forth in his living room and gone was the man you had met a few months ago. This was a grieving father, pain still lingering. 

“Joel…” you whispered quietly, careful not to startle him. 

He was mumbling, but you couldn’t make out the words. Slowly, you sat down on the couch and watched him sit across from you. He was leaning forward now, eyes focused on his fidgeting hands. 

“Joel, we don’t– You don’t have to tell me anything, not until you’re ready.”

Then, he looked up at you and you could have sworn that your heart broke at the sight of him. Not only was he a grieving father, but he looked broken and you had to wonder if this was part of himself that he had chosen to hide. You were so used to the quiet, confident man that you came to know, but as you looked at him now, he seemed like a different person entirely. 

“No,” he whispered, lower lip quivering. “You deserve to know, darlin’. You’ve shared so much about you, about your life from before and I–”

“You don’t need to, Joel,” you tried to say, hoping that he didn’t have to share anything that he wasn’t yet comfortable with. After all, your relationship with him was still relatively “new”. “But if you want to, I’m here. I’m listening.”

Joel nodded. He would open his mouth and shut it close a few times, not knowing where to really start. But as he looked at you, there was an odd sense of relief that he felt. Maybe it was because you hadn’t judged him for what he did to the Fireflies, to save Ellie. Or maybe it was because he found himself completely enamored with you, never pushing him to talk about things he wasn’t comfortable with, and even now, here you were, telling him that he didn’t need to tell you anything if he didn’t want to. It alleviated a lot of pressure that he put on himself because as the months passed and the more he got to know you, the more guilt he felt for not telling you more about himself, more about before. 

“I want to,” he whispered. “I just–” Joel sighed. “It ain’t an easy thing to talk about.” 

“We’ll go at your pace then,” you replied softly. “Whatever you want to tell me, I’m here.” 

Joel bit his lower lip and sighed heavily. “Sarah, she was– She was my babygirl,” he whispered, vivid memories flashing in his mind. The thick, curly hair, the dimples whenever she smiled, her caring nature and how she had always done such a great job taking care of him… 

Whenever he thought of Sarah, it not only reminded him of the day she died, but it was paired with an immense amount of guilt and failure. His one job as a father was to protect her, to keep her safe, and he couldn’t do it. It made him regret all of the plenty of times he worked late, taking for granted the limited time he had with her… And even now, as he tried to think of any good memories, it was hard. All his mind and body could remind him was the night she died in his arms. 

“Did she pass away before the outbreak?” 

Joel shook his head. “It happened on Outbreak day, which just so happened to be my birthday. Worst day of my life,” he whispered quietly. “I couldn’t– I couldn’t protect her.” Joel looked up at you, tears stinging his eyes and threatening to spill over. “It was supposed to be me… It should have been me.”

You wanted to leap out of this seat and hug him, protect him, tell him that you’re sorry he had to endure all of it, that the world had to end, that people– that good people had to die young. You might not know what it is like to lose a child, but you knew the pain, the regret, the guilt that followed when losing a loved one. 

“Aw, baby,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.” 

Joel took a deep and shaky breath. “She would’ve been in her thirties by now,” he admitted. “Would have had her own family– she’d have made a great mom, I’ll tell ya that. She always looked after me– even though she didn’t need to, especially when I had late night or early morning shifts. She was– My Sarah.” 

“Sounds like she loved her dad,” you replied, which Joel finally broke at that. Tears spilled over and you could see and hear him crying. He was trying to stifle his emotions, so you walked over to him and sat on the floor near his feet. Gently, you rested a hand on his own, holding them tightly to prevent him from fidgeting with them even further. 

“It’s hard to think about her,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All I can remember is the night she died in my arms, how she screamed for help, begging me to stop the pain…” 

You bit your lower lip and felt yourself tear up as well. “I can’t– I can’t imagine that feeling,” you said quietly. “Tell me… Tell me something about her. She must have been a teenager when the outbreak happened…” 

Joel shut his eyes, trying to rid himself of the vivid image of his Sarah limp, dead, and cold in his arms. He felt your hands caress his own, which surprisingly provided him a sense of comfort that he didn’t realize he needed. He was so used to pushing his emotions aside and just focusing on staying alive, and while it was difficult to think about his daughter, about his Sarah, a heaviness that he didn’t realize he had been carrying was slowly lifting. 

“She was so smart,” he smiled sadly to himself. “So smart and so– She had a big heart,” Joel bit his lower lip. “Not sure who she got that from, but that girl… Always looking out for everyone else.” 

“I mean, I don’t know her mom, but it sounds like she got that from you. From the past few months since I’ve known you, Joel, you are always protecting and keeping the people you love safe.” You replied, gently leaning up on your knees and taking his face in your hands. He looked at you, tears still spilling over slowly as you wiped them away. “Sarah sounded like a really great girl. I’m sorry,” you whispered quietly. “I’m sorry you lost her so soon.” 

“My babygirl,” he whispered. “Do you– Do you wanna see a picture of her?” 

“If you’d like to show me, then absolutely.” 

Joel nodded and stood up, helping you to your feet. He wiped his eyes and leaned down to gently press a kiss to your temple before leading you up the stairs. Once in his bedroom, you followed him to his dresser and watched him open the drawer before he took two polaroids out from underneath his clothes. He held onto it tightly and gently handed it to you. 

Immediately, you smiled to yourself. Joel looked much younger, much happier (you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile that big before). One photo was of him and Sarah, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he covered her eyes and the other was of her kissing his cheek. You felt tears slowly trickle down your cheeks as you stared at both pictures. 

“She has an amazing smile,” you whispered quietly. 

Joel let a very small smile line his lips. “When she smiled, her whole face lit up. Dimples too. She had me wrapped around her finger,” he chuckled to himself. “I had her young,” Joel began. “I didn’t know what I was doin’ half the time. Her mom left, and so I was a 22 year old man with a newborn. I was fuckin’ scared,” Joel admitted. “But when she smiled for the first time, I knew that I was gonna do everythin’ I could to be the dad she deserved.” 

You nodded and looked over at him. You understood now why he had killed Marlene, killed the Fireflies, and saved Ellie. It was his way of fixing the past. He couldn’t save Sarah, so he decided to save Ellie. He couldn’t make the same mistake. He couldn’t lose another one. 

“This shouldn’t be hidden,” you suggested. “It’s tough… To talk about the people we’ve lost and some hurt more than others, but I think these should be displayed. It can remind you of how much she loved you, Joel, instead of reminding you of that one night…”

“But–” Joel whispered. “Every time I think about her, every time I see this, all I can think about is the night she died.”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I felt like that for a long time after my husband and I can’t say that what I did will fix it all, but… I wanted to remember the good times we shared and it hurt like hell – and it still hurts – but I decided I want to remember him in my own way. Pushing him aside after he died, forcing myself not to think about him, to just move on with my life hurt more. I miss him a lot and I dealt with a lot of guilt, a lot of regret… But the pain we feel when we think about them shows us how much love we had for them too. There was a quote…” you said quietly. “That kind of helped me.” 

“W– What is it, darlin’?”

Tears were pooling around your eyes and you looked up at him, moving a hand to rest on his chest. “Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love. And it just– It reminded me how lucky I was to have loved my husband and to be loved by him.”

Joel immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his face against the crook of your neck. You felt him melt into you, the weight that he had been carrying now lifting completely. He was crying against you and you just held onto him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. You both stood in his bedroom, holding onto each other like your lives depended on it, connected by grief and pain of a lost loved one. 

“I miss my Sarah,” he whispered into you. You could feel his tears against your skin and you were crying too, but Joel needed this. He needed to release what he had been holding in. “My babygirl,” he said, voice cracking. 

You pulled away, only to lead him to his bed, which he followed almost instantly. When you lied down, Joel joined you immediately and wrapped his arms around you. Ellie helped tremendously with him overcoming his grief, but with their most recent fight, he felt it all come crashing down. 

Joel felt like he had failed her, just like he had failed Sarah. 

He knew that the only right thing to do was save Ellie, to kill Marlene and the Fireflies. She was still so young to know what she wanted, to know what it meant to sacrifice her life for a cure that may never work. Joel didn’t want to risk it. It was an easy decision for him and he would do it all over again if given the chance. 

His head was resting against your shoulder and your arm was wrapped around him, running your fingertips along his arm soothingly. Usually, you were the one cuddling into him like this, but right now, Joel needed an anchor, needed someone to be the stronger one of the two. 

“I understand why you did what you did,” you whispered. “Saving Ellie… It was the only logical choice.”

Joel looked up at you, surprised. “Really?” 

“I would’ve done the same thing,” you admitted. “She may be angry, Joel, but that girl still loves you. Give her time.”

“What if–” Joel sighed. “What if that never happens?” 

“It will. You just gotta be patient.” 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted. “I never thought I’d get another chance.” 

“At what?” you smiled, looking down at him. “At being a father again?” 

“Yes,” Joel smiled. “And to fall in love again.”

Your eyes widened slowly. Sure, it had been only a few months since you two were together, but ever since he laid eyes on you the first day you came to Jackson, he knew that you were something special. 

“A– Are you saying–”

“I’m in love with you, darlin’.” Joel whispered, leaning up on his elbow. “What you did earlier, what you said… You’re helpin’ me in more ways than you can imagine… And my Sarah would have loved you.”

You leaned down to peck his lips, cupping his cheeks. “I’m sure I would have loved her too…” You bit your lower lip and ran your thumbs across his skin, brushing against the bristles of his beard. “And I’m head over heels in love with her dad.”

---

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #joel miller #joel miller hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller hbo fanfiction #joel miller hbo fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader (you) #joel miller x you #story: the teacher

[yandere-sins]

The Price of Happy Ever After

Anddd the end! I honestly didn’t plan for such a tragical ending, and I did intend to leave it open a bit if anyone ever wants to request the stepbro again that there can be a continous timeline, but it’s still sad. Or maybe I am just sad my storyline is over? Who knows. Thanks everyone for reading and loving the stepbro series, up to the bitter end ♥

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Stepbrother x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Killing, Death (on screen), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide implications, Murder (implications), Death mention, Blood mention, Corpse Mention, Knife Mention, Stabbing Mention), I actually took this prompt very literally, Abusive Relationship, Forced Affection, Darling breaking, Massive Trauma, Darling being manipulated/gaslit prior

Prompt: @sintember Why did nobody listen? - A threat ignored, the devastation wrought. Will you survive it alone, to remember their folly? Or will it consume you as well?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

“Ah…”

Your voice was breathless as you stared at the mangled corpses lying before you, the scream you wanted to release stuck in your throat. Aside from the obvious indications like your mom’s bracelet on her wrist and your dad’s glasses lying crushed in a pool of blood next to what must have been his head once, you had no doubts about who these bodies were. Funnily enough, your first idea was how realistic this Halloween decoration looked. It wasn’t unusual to find something so gruesomely arranged like this at the time of the year you were in, the end of October just around the corner.

Pushing his face into the back of your head, your brother took a deep breath. Blood-smeared fingers crawled onto your shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles in them. “Happy Birthday~” he hummed melodically, the weight of your life crushing down on you as he added, “Sweet 21, my Darling. I hope you like your present.”

There were a lot of things to do—screaming, crying, gripping your head as you sunk to your knees. Perhaps throwing up would have been a good idea as well. But you couldn’t. You were simply numb. Even if you wanted to turn your eyes away from the fleshy pulp in your living room, you couldn’t. You couldn’t, knowing it was your fault. Or was it? Maybe partially… Had your brother already gotten so much into your head that you considered all of this your own failure?

You began to shake, at least some reaction to the horror unfolding before your eyes. No amount of therapy would be able to save you from the nightmares this would cause. Your brother wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you noticed his white sleeves turned red from the blood, the kitchen knife still in his hand as he pressed you tightly against him, squeezing you and nudging you side to side.

“Finally you’re old enough that we don’t have to keep up a facade anymore. I told them about us this morning, and they weren’t happy about our relationship. So I made them disappear. No need to thank me.”

“You–” It was a feeble try to reply as your vocal cords simply gave out while you tried to mouth your thoughts. There were so many screaming at you, sad ones weeping over your parents, and angry ones yelling, “I told you so!” But what did it matter now? What did it matter how many times you tried to tell them about their wicked adopted stepson? It only mattered that they didn’t listen. They waved you off and shrugged their shoulders, only for them to end up dead. Only you were left behind to realize your stepbrother must have had one hell of a time stabbing them, too, the wounds uncountable.

“I did it, yeah. For us. For you.”

Gripping your chin, he turned your head to face him, the true horror of everything going on reflected by your expression in his eyes. Urging your chin up, he had you stretch your neck to meet his lips, a tender tongue lapping out to lick over yours while he breathed out a sigh in seemingly relief. It wasn’t long until he captured your mouth with his, moaning into the kiss despite there being no reaction from you at all. The blood splatters across his face were such a harsh contrast to the adoration in his glazed-over gaze. Your stepbrother never even allowed himself to look away or blink, wanting to capture every second of the sickly expression on your face. The only thing tearing you out of a complete trance—you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t focus—were his teeth nicking at your lower lip, drawing even more of the wide-spread red fluid from you despite him being covered in it from head to toe.

“You said you wouldn’t,” you finally whispered, a naive feeling of betrayal taking the upper hand. But not seconds later, the hiccups started, the heavy reality settling in, tears flooding your eyes as you let out a soundless gurgle. Your knees grew weak, the tension in your body replaced by being unable to stand any longer. Though the thought of sinking to your knees before your stepbrother, falling into the blood of your parents, made you want to throw up, you weren’t concerned about him still holding the knife or what he obviously could do with it. Because he wouldn’t hurt you. Not now that he had you all to himself.

“You… You… You…” Trying to voice your thoughts only ended up in you hyperventilating, your brother catching you with one arm around your hips as you began the ungraceful descent. He helped steady you, kept you close with his eyes widening too. The sound of the knife handle falling to the ground couldn’t even register in your head as he cupped your face instead, hushing you gently. “Shh, shh, I’m here! I’m here. Everything is fine.”

But what was really fine? Were you fine? Was this situation fine? You barely matured legally, but you weren’t an adult yet who could control anything in your life. Was it even your life anymore?

“Look at me, look- look at me. I am right here,” he tried to calm you, bumping his forehead to yours and capturing your eyes with his. In his delusion, he must have thought you’d react differently. He probably expected you to be overjoyed and tell him to shower while you prepared the table to eat cake together. You, barely holding back from passing out, hyperventilating, and losing your grip on reality, wasn’t how he thought it would go. You could see the warped disappointment in his gaze, the desire for you to get a grip, but maybe just because it was your birthday, he didn’t force you through the slap of his hand or choke you like he did in the past.

But the past was no longer a concern. With your parents gone, the future seemed much darker than you wished it would be. How would you keep on living with the shame and terror of letting them die? How would you stop thinking about ways you could have prevented this? What were you going to do now? Could you still move out and start over, far away from this psycho? Be free of his torture?

“Babe!” he called out to you, once more tearing you out of your thoughts. “Stay with me, please! It’s fine, I promise! Everything will be fine!”

Following his words with another kiss, you sensed the hot tears running down your cheeks. These constant kisses and denial about the terrible things that happened just inches away from you were so terrifying you almost felt like you were going to mess your pants. He was a killer. You had known this for a long time now. But a part of you hoped he wouldn’t go this far. That he’d leave you and your family alone if you left him, that he’d find enjoyment somewhere else. Or at least, that he’d leave those people you loved and protected by enduring his psychopathic tendencies with your own body and mind behind when he followed you elsewhere. God, why did nobody listen? How could you ever dream of a life away from him now, knowing he did this and would do it again in a heartbeat? How could you pretend that you’d be able to function with no support and no one to listen to you now?

How much more could you endure before you’d just break?

You knew you were close to breaking. There was little left that could keep your sanity on the right path, and no kiss, no gentle touch, and no caress would be able to save it. No one could save it. No one would save you. There was no one left who believed you over your stepbrother, no more family, no friends, not even the police. So… did that mean you’d just have to accept it? Bear with it?

“I already emptied all accounts. We’ll be out of the country and live somewhere far away from everyone by the sea. Or maybe a cabin in the woods? Wherever you go, I will go with you. No one can stop us now, Baby. You and I against the world forever.”

His words were but a constant buzzing ringing in your ears as he told you about his plans. You swallowed, your limbs feeling too heavy to move, too tired to act on your commands. Why did you even try? Why did you even imagine and question things that would never come true when he had already planned much farther ahead than you ever did? You just wanted to get out as soon as possible. He wanted to go across the globe and settle somewhere like a couple in love. Then again, how could you have planned when you foolishly believed in him, trusted him even.

Or maybe… there was one other way.

Your gaze fell from his, and you weren’t sure if he knew what you were looking at or if his panicked calls of your name meant he thought you were losing conscience. However, you fixated on one object intently while your stepbrother shook you in his hold, yelling for you to snap out of it.

There was one other way. One that would either let you live your life alone, ruined, broken, but free. Never to forget the tragedy as you’d forever run from responsibilities and your own nightmarish thoughts. You already knew no one would believe you. But you didn’t need anyone to believe you. It would be better to be alone in case your stepbrother didn’t die from your attack. So that he wouldn’t harm anyone who came too close to you. Alone and free, and the last person this unhinged murderer could ever harm again. Especially harm in your name.

Or you could end it on your own terms. You had no idea what he had planned. If you were lucky, being locked away for all eternity, only for his amusement, was the most merciful punishment for not saving your family from this fate. Surely, there could have been something else. Something you could have done to save them! But it was too late now.

As he sat you down, the wet feeling of blood soaking into your clothes and against your skin, you didn’t know where he was going. Maybe he was fetching his beloved ropes again, or he was getting a cold water bucket to try and pull you out of your living stiffness from being so far cut off from reality. Maybe he was getting the bottles of poison for you two. Who knew.

The knife, bloody and warm after being held and lying in the liquid, still had its sharp, cold edge to it, despite being worn down from use. You thought of the irony of your brother loving you. The feeling consuming him as much as your hatred for him did for you, pushing you towards making these ghastly choices about his and your life. It consumed you as much as the sadness about your parents’ death did. Love, a feeling so pure and beautiful, yet so wicked and deadly. For every happy ever after, it demanded a horrific price from someone else. A price higher than any living being could pay. This time, it was three lives.

And if your stepbrother really did love you…

Four.

#Step-Yandere #yandere step-sibling #yandere!step-sibling #yandere stepsibling #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #Sintember 2022 #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

[woosluv]

along came san — san

pairing: san x female!reader / rating + genre: G + fluff / warnings: briefly mentions trauma from a previous relationship, discomfort with going on a date, yn low key tries to beat yeosang up (literally jumps on him and tries to choke him but it gets established that she actually did no harm), description of a terrible date with a man, light eating scenes throughout fic (mostly ice cream and mentions steak and salad in the beginning), light making out / word count: 2.9k / summary: after a terrible date, your best friends invite you over to help you feel better, but instead you meet a boy who's instantly smitten for you. / requested?: yes! / note: hey @mingkiyoo ! thank you so much for leaving a request! i appreciate it so much and i hope you enjoy what i've written for you! <3 here is my first ever request. i hope you all enjoy it as well :) also, not my last two fics having ice cream scenes lol / taglist: @wooyoung-a @dogsongy @underworldnet

— please reblog if you enjoyed this! tumblr is not like other social medias and runs off of reblogs and NOT likes :)

It had been a while. You were still healing from a traumatizing relationship though. So when your friend approached you and not-so chalantly brought up her boyfriend’s “really cute friend”, you kindly declined her invite. “But he’s exactly what you need, yn.” You really hated that you had no strength against that cute little pout of hers. You exhaled, annoyed at the fact she had gotten you to cave.

“Fine.” You crossed your arms and turned to face the TV again to continue watching your show, but Lia interrupted with a squeal and the clapping of her hands. “Perfect! Let’s start getting you ready, the dates tonight.” You looked at her bewildered. “What? I thought I’d have more time to mentally prepare.” She only shook her head as she shoved you into your bathroom.

“I don’t know, Lia. I don’t really feel that comfortable.” Lia was smoothing out the skirt of your summer dress as her boyfriend drove you towards the plaza you would be meeting at. “You’ll be fine. At least try.” She gave you the softest look as she spoke. You knew that she had pure intentions and only wanted you to find the man who would give you what you deserved and that would treat you with the utmost respect. You sighed as you nodded and turned your head to look out the window instead.

“We’re here.” Yeosang gave you the softest look you had ever seen him direct towards you. You smiled back, feeling a little more encouraged as you exited the car. “Have fun!” You nodded as you waved back towards your friend. You watched as Yeosang peeled away and then turned around to look towards the bustling plaza.

You felt your phone buzz as you moved towards the plaza. You checked it. 

Lia <3: uh, yeo’s friend couldn’t make it he had an emergency so his friend’s friend came instead

You huffed in annoyance but you couldn’t be mad that something out of the guy’s control happened. You were just worried that the date wouldn’t be everything Lia had chalked it up to be. “An amazing date with Yeo’s cutest friend” she had told you. Now, you were getting someone who probably wasn’t interested in coming in the first place. You shook your head. You couldn’t have negative thoughts about the date before you even met the guy, you would just be setting the night up for failure.

It was 30 minutes into your date now and you had long taken back what you had said about not thinking negatively about the date. You had full reason to be skeptical about it and now that you gotten to know him well enough, you were ready to go home, crack open a tub of strawberry ice cream and cry as you watched your favorite drama.

Somehow, your date had made you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it for the rest of eternity within 10 minutes. Jae, was nice at first – he had held the door open for you and pulled out your chair for you. But when it came down to ordering, he had snatched both the menus and took the liberty of ordering you a salad while he got himself the 16oz steak with loaded mashed potatoes and asparagus. You let it go, the salad had turned out pretty good despite it not being your meal of choice.

He had gone on and on about himself the whole time, only quieting down whenever he took a bite of food or a sip of his drink. You felt your phone buzz through your purse that had been sitting on your lap. It was Lia. Before you even read the message you tried to make yourself look frantic and quickly typed a ‘response’ for her to get her ass here pronto and get you out.

yn: get your ass here NOW and pick me up this is such a disaster

Lia <3: omw

In that moment, you were grateful that Lia was a ‘shoot now, ask questions later' type of person as you gathered your things in a hurry and made your way towards the door. “My friends just texted me. I have to go! It was nice meeting you though.” You bolted out the door and refused to look back in case he had caught onto you and tried to make you stay or something.

Lia and Yeosang had dropped you off for the night with no further questions and let you rest. They could tell you were exhausted and upset and instead invited you to join them at their apartment the next day. You agreed.

“You’re always playing video games. How about you put it down and pay attention to your best friend for once, Sannie?” Yeosang was pouting in the man’s face. Anything to get that look off of his face, San put his phone down and watched as Yeosang got up from his place beside him. “You literally just told me to get off my phone and you leave?” San throws his head back in frustration. “I lost my game for you!” Yeosang only laughs as a knock sounds at the door. Lia went to answer it.

“Kang Yeosang, where are you?” Both San and Lia stared at you with a tinge of fear in their eyes. “Uh, why are you calling Yeosang like that?” He watched as she timidly closed the door behind you as you removed your shoes and looked around the apartment. It seemed like you were on a mission for someone’s neck, and San had an idea of whose neck that was from the way you called out Yeosang’s name. 

San could see the moment you spotted a tuft of black hair disappear behind the wall because you immediately charged for it. Everyone could hear Yeosang squeal in fear as you gained on him then jumped on his back before he could shut the door on you. You’re screaming, arm wrapped around his throat as he walks backwards in an attempt to steady himself but your screaming in his ear has him turning in circles in futile attempts at getting away from you.

“If it weren’t for you and your stupid friend who had his stupid emergency, I would never have had to meet that horrible man! He ordered a salad for me, Yeosang. You know how much I hate salad.” He had made it into the main hall and made his way towards the living room. “Kang Yeosang, you’re dead meat! You’re –” Yeosang had slammed his back into the wall, causing you to loosen your hold around his neck in pain. With your arm loose, he pulled you down off his back and set you down on your feet in front of him.

“Jesus, I never want to make you mad again.” Yeosang rubbed at his throat as he watched you rub your tailbone. “I didn’t even do anything and you attacked me.” The way you glared at him as he brought his hand down from his throat had to have been the cutest thing San had ever seen. Honestly, you hadn’t really choked him but your arm was bony and it had been digging into the area where his throat met with his chest, so it was only slightly painful.

Yeosang looked behind you to meet San’s eyes. “You see what I have to deal with?” San watched as you turned to look at him. You looked at him for a second before you spoke. “It was well deserved after the night I had.” You turned to glare at Yeosang one more time and lifted your hand threateningly and San let out a laugh at the way Yeosang flinched.

San couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way your lips fell into a small pout or the way your cheek squished from leaning it on your fist after you had taken a seat on the bigger couch next to the one San was sitting on. Lia came and sat beside you. “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” Lia sighed as she rolled her eyes.

“San, this is my best friend, yn. yn, this is Yeosang’s best friend, San.” San couldn’t stop repeating your name in his head. Prettiest name for the prettiest girl San thought. San nearly choked on his spit when you looked at him with the same glare you had thrown at Yeosang earlier. “You’re not the friend who I was supposed to meet last night, are you?” San slowly shook his head as he looked at Lia in confusion. Lia sighed as she smacked your shoulder. “Stop that. You’re scaring the poor guy.” San didn’t really mind, he was too distracted by the way little strands of hair fell out of your ponytail and framed your pretty face as you spoke.

You sighed as you dramatically threw yourself across Lia’s lap. “Lia, you literally have no idea. That was the worst date I have ever been on.” San watched as you pouted and talked about all the terrible qualities this Jae guy had. “He only talked about himself and how he’s the CEO’s assistant at the company he works for so he makes ‘hella cash’. And he ordered me a salad! I’m not over that and I never will be.” San could feel the smile grow on his face at the way your voice got all whiney.

San listened to every bad thing about your date, agreeing that he was a total asshole for ordering a salad for you without asking and adding that you should’ve kicked his shin really hard before you left. “I was trying to get out of there asap, San, not drag out our interaction for any longer than it needed to be.” And San melts at the way you say his name, scolding but a light airiness that told him you were only teasing.

You and San get along well and even find yourselves separating from Yeosang and Lia when you head out for ice cream later that evening. “So what do you do?” San lightly laughs when you pull away from your cone with a strawberry tinted mustache on your upper lip. “Um.” San is a little embarrassed when he comes up empty, nothing interesting about his life standing out to him. Until he blurts out, “I play video games.” His cheeks are a light shade of pink when he digs back into his ice cream.

“Really?” And the tone of your voice isn’t judging like he thought it would be, instead, it’s curious and interested. San nods his head enthusiastically, instantly encouraged by the way you had responded to his answer. “I play on all game consoles, but I prefer pc or Nintendo over anything else.” San falls a little deeper when you meet his eyes, a challenging glint sparkling at his words.

“Oh yeah? I play a little Nintendo myself. I come in first place in Mario Kart every time.” San scoffs, a playful retaliation to your words. “Please, that’s only because you haven’t played against me yet.” San takes another lick of his ice cream. You look at him in thought before you nod in agreement. “You up for the challenge, Choi?” San gives you a smirk. “What challenge? You should be asking yourself that question, Kim.”

San’s heartbeat speeds up significantly. “It’s a date.” And he’s surprised when the words don’t leave his mouth but come from you instead. He nods curtly as he shoves his cone into his mouth again and mumbles in agreement. “It’s a date.” And San doesn’t miss the way your lips curl into the prettiest shy smile he’s ever seen.

San’s ears are flushed bright pink in embarrassment as Lia squeals and jumps in her seat beside a smiling Yeosang. San had borrowed Yeosang’s car to drop you off after you arrived back at your friends’ apartment. You had been holding back yawns and trying so hard to keep your eyes open, so San offered you a ride home to which you gratefully accepted. Suddenly Lia stilled in her seat and looked at San with a stern look in her eyes. San froze because ‘what did I do wrong?’

“You better take care of her, San. That’s my best friend and the love of my life.” Yeosang pouted. “I thought I was the love of your life.” Lia only nodded as she pulled Yeosang’s head onto her shoulder and softly ran her fingers through his hair. San couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face at the view before him. And perhaps his heart rate picked up a little bit imagining you and himself in that same position.

“I know. I don’t plan on hurting her, just taking care of her and loving her.” And before she could respond with a little more tough loving, Yeosang beats her to it with the softest coos San never wanted to hear come from Yeosang ever again. San has a grimace on his face as Yeosang fake cries into his girlfriend’s shoulder. “He’s all grown up, Lia. They grow up so fast.” And Lia aggressively shrugs off her annoying boyfriend as he wipes non-existent tears from his cheeks. “Bottom line is if you hurt her, I will kill you. Got it?” And San nods and vows never to make Lia angry or hurt you for the rest of his life.

“That’s not fair. You’re cheating.” San watches as your lips formed the pout he so desperately wanted to kiss off your lips. “No, I’m not. I told you it would be a challenge.” He can’t hold back his chuckle as you stick your tongue out at him and opt for dramatically huffing with your arms crossed as you look away.

His hands are gentle when he grabs hold of your elbow. “C’mooon. Don’t be like that. Pleeeease?” His head tilts to try and get a better look at your face, but you won’t let him. San hesitates for a second before he moves a little closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him so he could get a better look at you.

He can tell you’re smiling and can’t help when his body automatically reacts with the same fond smile that rests on his lips every time you’ve been together. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he thinks for a second. “How about a rematch? One last game to see if you can beat me.” And San feels his confidence boost when he sees the goosebumps form on your neck from the tickle of his cool breath meeting your warm skin.

San’s confidence is boosted. But just as quickly as it had risen, he felt his body still and fall under your command as soon as you turned your head to look at him. Your faces were so close, San could see your eyes going a little cross eyed due to your close proximity. “But you can’t just let me win without trying.” San can’t believe you right now. You were pouting from losing to San, and when he offered a rematch, you were pouting because you didn’t want him to go easy on you. San smiled at your words. “Fine. I won’t go easy on you.”

San’s breath gets caught in his throat as you lean in a little closer. You’re looking between both his eyes, a shy smile on your face as your hand comes up and gently moves a strand of his silky black hair from his eyes. You speak as your hand finally stops to rest on his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I don’t know. Maybe you can go a little easy on me.” San nods, eyes fluttering closed as he closes the space between you. “Just a little. Not too easy.”

And San feels the heat start in his lips, warm from your touch before it runs through his entire body. His hands are cradling your face a second later, trying to pull you as close as humanly possible, trying to feel the warmth a little more intensely. His fingers are tingling and his stomach is exploding with butterflies as you tilt your head and open your lips a little more for San.

Your lips are so soft, plush like the dinner rolls he always gets from his favorite bakery. And your skin is smooth, warm from the heat that burst through both of your bodies as a result of the kiss you were currently sharing. And your scent was engulfing him. The calming scent of lavender fabric softener and your strawberry shampoo had him intoxicated, completely under your control.

San moved his lips a little more eagerly, hungry for more as he tasted you for the first time. His tongue was warm and gentle against your own and the sound of your teeth slightly clashing reverberated through his body as he nipped lightly at your lips. He wanted more, craved more. But you were running out of breath.

You slowly pulled away, lips swollen from your gentle nips at each other and bodies warm from wandering hands. Your foreheads were resting against each other as you took a moment to catch your breath. “That was perfect. Not too easy.” San couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at your words. “How about that rematch?” And San is stuck in his place as you move to grab your controller again, giant grin splitting your lips. “Don’t worry. We can do that again.” You lean in and just as your lips are about to meet his for another kiss, you shove his controller into his hands and move back into your spot. “After we have our rematch.” San pouts as he groans and leans his head on your shoulder. “Fine.”

#[📄] requests #🍄 my writing #underworldnet #koffeenet #[⛰] san content #san x reader #san imagines #choi san #san #ateez san #ateez fluff #san fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fics

[cryingspiritsofheart]

May I request Yuzuha Shiba x m!reader fluff? Perhaps, if you would want, add how her brothers would feel about it?

⋆ﾟ⊹ ꒰ა𖤍໒꒱ [AMAB!Reader ♡ Yuzuha Shiba ﾉ sweet-fluff ﾉ Slight violence ﾉ Swearing ﾉ mentions of abuse ﾉ light angst ﾉ Taiju ]

Featured: Hinata, Takemichi & Mitsuya. Enjoy your read

Not proof read

❝𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑❞

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘 Yazuha and (Name) had started their relationship she had been rather cautions on where they went, especially if it had been anywhere near Black Dragon or any places she saw her brothers. She never allowed you over after stating: ❝Her brothers were insufferable❞ which was understandable. Although you weren't allowed to her residence you always brought her to yours.

You knew everything about Yazuha from her family history to her everyday schedule, well you only knew the lies she told you. Yazuha grew a negative habit of telling you lies about her family. Ever since she started dating before and warned her past significant others about her brothers they'd run away and wouldn't return, thus she never informed you of the truth.

The two of you met through Takemichi during bowling, you were beating this ass without hesitation and Yazuha and Hinata just happened to show up. You noticed that Yazuha had a one-sided crush on Takemichi which was bad since he was dating Hinata but hey! No one has to know right? But in the end it upset you since you grew to like Yazuha.

Takemichi eventually tried helping you get the woman of your dreams with and without Hinata. You two of you thought if Hina knew about this crush it would end badly so you two would take Hinata on specific times and give her specific missions. After countless amounts of failures and even slight successes Yazuha finally noticed you and decided to put her crush aside and give you a chance.

Currently you and Yazuha were having Ice cream together, Yazuha wanted to share but she knew you'd eat it all so she just ordered for herself and you two desired different flavors anyway. The two joked and laughed like school girls enjoying their dates together. It was always like this, Yazuha would always give ways to make you smile and never have you regret falling for her.

You always tried doing the same without a doubt yet she beat you too it every time. You played with Yazuha's right after you finished your Ice cream and put her hair in a bun in which you got a kiss in return. You'd be lying if you said Yazuha wasn't placed in the center of your heart. Caring endlessly for her and her abilities to protect herself. Yes, you were aware of Yazuha's skills but being a worry, supportive boyfriend was one of her favorite things about her significant other.

But all good times have a price. Yazuha knew that Taiju was out with Black Dragon and Hakkai was home with Mitsuya. Giving you a look you knew a little too well as she sighed. ❝I'm allowing you to meet one, one of my brothers and that's it. Got it?❞ Though you were equally surprised, excited and disappointed you nodded in which Yazuha prayed Taiju would come home late. Once you two arrived at the Shiba residence you couldn't home but wonder what this Hakkai looked like. You practically begged Yazuha to show you pictures which she declined to saying ❝It's a surprise.❞ You mentally prepared yourself which Yazuha brought you inside. Her home looked normal, like a normal family residence.

Entering a specific room too see two men, one with lavender hair and the other blue hair. You didn't understand who was the two which none of them had Yazuha's hair to which she explained the lavender boy was Mitsuya and the other was her actually brother Hakkai. Yazuha wasn't surprised too see that you three got along well, Hakkai didn't necessarily trust you first meeting, but he could see how much you loved Yazuha so he warmed up too you which made you question why she wouldn't let you meet Hakkai. You were surprised at how tall he was and that Hakkai was actually Yazuha's younger brother.. Yazuha being 16 and Hakkai 14 which came as a surprise but out over it.

Soon enough Mitsuya took his leave and wishes you all the best of luck, in which Yazuha gave him a certain look while Hakkai looked nervous. It honestly didn't bother you but also had you curious on Yazuha's older brother, was he THAT bad? (yes)

Well you were about to find out, it came as a surprise when Taiju unexpected showed up. Since Yazuha and Hakkai panicked they instantly shoved you somewhere and told you to stay there, questions asked later, patted your cheek and kept you there. You were concerned when you heard arguing but you knew better than to come out. Only god knew how scared you were when you heard footsteps that weren't Yazuha's nor Hakkai's coming towards you. Since she shoved you in the closet you grabbed some clothes and hid in the darkest space in the closet curling into a tight ball while keeping yourself calm.

The closet door burst open but nothing happened, you just kept yourself calm and didn't move a muscle. That was 'till you were suddenly grabbed and thrown through basically the whole room. A strong man who looked quite unstable looked at you in dissatisfaction and disgust. Now you completely understood why you were hidden and forbidden from coming here. Before that man could get any closer to you Hakkai blocked you while Yazuha checked if you were okay. You were in good shape with just a headache and back pain. You didn't even question Yazuha, although it was clear that she was perfectly fine you checked her as well.

After you two checked one another and Yazuha got both her brothers out you were finally told the truth. Really the whole thing had you in disbelief and anger, what brother abuses his own siblings? Especially if they're younger! It wasn't fair how you couldn't really do much but you most definitely weren't going to allow Yazuha to be in the face of danger. You fell in love with Yazuha for a reason. Her strong and interesting older brother who didn't even look like a sixteen old wasn't going to stop you.

Since everything had seemed to calm down Yazuha with no hesitation decided you aren't meeting Taiju unless death was your way in life. Letting you out through her window which she thought was a bad idea which you were already slightly wounded she didn't have much a choice. Yazuha promised that you were never meeting Taiju no matter if he changed or not, Yazuha would hate to see you hurt therefore.. You. Are. Never. Meeting. Him.

But hey, at least who of her brothers won't throw you across her room and you can meet him whenever you so please.. as long as nor Taiju or Black Dragon are around.

I rushed this ngl, but I had to get something out. Honestly I don't really feel good (sick? 🤨) but like I'll try to push through (probably not) and get these requests and that fanfiction done.

#[ 50% 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 ] #[ 𝓟𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓾𝓻 '𝓼 𝗩𝗼𝗶𝗱 ] #𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎. 𝐑𝐄𝐕 #𝓨𝓪𝑧𝓾𝓱𝓪 𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓫𝓪 #𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

[writeyouin]

David Request (if you're still doing that, I know it was 2 days ago that you asked for David requests so you can ignore this if not)

David wakes up super early, as he always does, and starts getting ready for his day, but the sight of himself in the mirror catches his eye. He looks over the numerous scars he's accumulated over a lifetime in the woods - especially his wolf encounter - and reflects deeply

David (Camp Camp) X Reader - Scars

A/N – You didn’t actually ask for a reader insert, but that’s kind of my thing so I sort of turned this into one. Also, thank you so much for requesting this, I just had a real craving to write for David. I needed this so bad.

Warnings – Minor mentions of David’s trauma but nothing too serious.

Rating – T

Some things never changed at Camp Campbell. The first rays of sunlight that shone over the camp were always the brightest, though admittedly most of the campers missed them, staying in bed for as long as they could. Somewhere in or around the camp, the Quartermaster was finishing up his nightly routine of hunting for cryptids in the forest and preparing to cook breakfast. Gwen was likely dreaming about the trashy films she watched.

And David… David felt like he was the one thing that had changed recently, and he wasn’t sure whether it was for the better.

He sighed as he got up. Normally, David would greet the sun and salute the Camp’s flag from his bedroom window, but he had too much on his mind.

He was thinking about everything that he had gone through in the past few months and contemplating whether other camp counsellors also suffered so much. Perhaps they did, or perhaps… David didn’t really want to think about it, but he couldn’t help wondering if other camp councillors didn’t suffer so much because they didn’t care about their camps or the campers that attended them.

He knew that Camp Campbell wasn’t exactly somewhere to be proud of, and maybe if he put less effort in, things wouldn’t hurt so much, but if he didn’t care about the camp then who would? Who would protect the nature that resided in the camp? Who would look after the kids? Sure, most of them would go to other summer camps, but there were some kids whose parents didn’t care about them, kids like Max who needed Camp Campbell and Councillors like David to keep an eye on him.

David stretched, getting out of bed, an unusual scowl weighing down his lips. It wasn’t the only thing weighing him down.

Recently, David had started dating you, and while it should have made him the happiest man alive, he couldn’t help worrying about the future. His previous relationships had all ended in failure. He was never manly enough, or too emotional, too fast to love, and too slow to pursue a physical relationship. How long would it be before you got tired of him like all the others had?

The trouble was that David found that he did want to be intimate with you, but there were some things holding him back; things he didn’t feel comfortable talking about.

As dark thoughts began to cloud David’s mind, he walked to the vanity by the wall. Beneath it was a chest of drawers that held his clothes. Staring into the mirror, David removed his pyjama shirt, examining his reflection as he stood uncertainly in only his boxer shorts.

At his age, it was expected that he might have a few scars; most people did after all. Then again, most people had normal scars from things like shaving accidents or breaking some glass. David’s scars weren’t normal.

There was a scar on his lower abdomen from where the Quartermaster had dug his hook hand into David during their fight to raise money for the camp. David’s left shoulder had a burn that had never healed after he’d stopped a firework from exploding near Max, shielding it with his body. His opposite bicep was scarred after Nikki had bitten him after he’d split up a fight between her and the Wood Scouts.

Then, there were the bigger scars. Tentatively, David brought his hand to the claw marks he’d received from a she-wolf in the wild. They were long since healed now, but they ran deep. Would you find them repulsive? David did.

He didn’t so much hate the scars, but rather the memory connotated with them. They reminded him of how hideously he had acted when faced with the predator. They reminded him of how callous he could be when pushed to the edge. David remembered all too vividly how close he had come to caving in the wolf’s head with a rock, and how he had screamed at her beforehand; he was terrified of ever becoming that person ever again.

Of course, David had multiple scars from the wolf. His back was worse than his torso, a painting of scars that revealed how desperately the wolf had tried to climb him to save herself from the fall into the gulf.

David’s eyes travelled to his forearm. Four tiny pinpricks shone on his skin; the wolf’s bite itself. Those were less prominent thankfully, and when you had asked about them on a date, he had brushed them off as nothing.

David pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his eyes against tears. It was all too much.

“Hey David, I-”

David spun around as you burst into his room, the fear apparent on his face as your words died in your mouth.

“I-” You floundered for a moment, trying to regain your composure. Usually, David was up and ready now, and he was normally the one bursting into our room. You had never considered that it would be a problem to visit his room without knocking.

“I’m sorry,” You gulped, averted your gaze. “I didn’t mean to- I- I’ll just go.”

“No need,” David said hurriedly, his tone strained as he tried and failed to impersonate his usually happy self.

He rushed to open his drawers, grabbing his camp shirt and putting it on backwards in his haste.

“See,” He fake-laughed, holding out his arms as if to present himself to you. “All dressed, nothing wrong here.”

After a moment of awkward silence, David glanced down, realising that he was still in his boxers. Assuming that was the reason for your silence, he flushed red and hurriedly put his shorts on, presenting himself again.

“I-” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry I came in here without knocking. I just assumed you’d be ready by now.”

Conjuring up his best can-do attitude, David grinned, though he was clearly uncomfortable about everything that had just occurred. “It’s fine. No need to worry about any hideous scars here. Everything’s great.”

You frowned, waiting a moment before speaking so you could find the right words. “David, I apologised because I know that you like to take things slow. I never meant to imply- If you think for even a second that-”

David’s smile faltered as you stumbled over your words and he sighed, dropping his façade of happiness.

He rubbed his arm awkwardly, making himself as small as possible and staring at the floor as he spoke, “(Y/N), I know my scars are ugly and if they make you uncomfortable, you should just say so. It’s alright, I won’t think less of you for it… If this is a dealbreaker for you, just say it.”

David tried to hold back tears as he waited for your imminent rejection. He knew that he was an ugly crier and he didn’t want to make an already terrible situation even worse with hideous crying that would show you just how pathetic he really was.

“I don’t think your scars are ugly,” You said in a small voice.

“You don’t!” David dared to look up at you, confusion written all over his face.

“No. I was shocked, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m sorry I didn’t say so right away… I just panicked, and I know that you’re shy about things. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

David’s lips tilted upwards in a tiny, hopeful smile, “Really?”

“Yeah, and if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you, and if you don’t, that’s okay too.”

David swallowed his nerves, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He knew it was too soon to tell you he loved you; he had said it too early in relationships before and it had scared off multiple dates. Yet somehow, he thought you might be different. After all, you hadn’t reacted badly towards his scars… Maybe you would even heal the scars in his heart.

He raced over to you, embracing you in a crushing hug, to which you reciprocated gladly. He would tell you he loved you, but he would wait till your next date night when he could plan everything to be perfect. Finally, he had found someone who accepted him wholly, scars and all.

Like my work? Buy me a Ko-Fi.

#Camp Camp #Camp Campbell #Camp Camp X Reader #David #David camp camp #camp camp david #cc david #david x reader #camp camp david x reader #david camp camp x reader #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #scars

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Drying Tears (Trigun Fanfic)

Summary: Vash has a moment of guilt for someone to give him solace.

Pairing: Vash the Stampede X OC

content: Romance, established relationship, mention of violence, mention of injuries

I wasn't surprised in the least when I woke up to find out Vash had locked himself in his room. Both Meryl and Milly telling me how the bar fight had ended last night. With me getting knocked over the head by a guy wielding a beer bottle. Which led to Vash breaking up the fight and bringing me to the local clinic to get patched up. With Vash only leaving when the nurse had all but chased him out in the middle of the night. So I sighed to heft myself out of the bed and into my slightly crusty clothes. Meryl helping me find my boots as Milly said, "You may want to get something to eat. But I don't think Mr. Vash has had anything since last night. He said he wasn't feeling well."

My snort isn't unexpected as I shook out my jacket before putting it on. "Not very surprising to me, Milly. Guilt tends to make a person queasy. But I will be able to change that with some gentle nudges. So don't worry for too long." Meryl rolls her eyes to huff and cross her arms. "That idiot. Why should he feel guilty? The guys that got drunk and started the fight are the ones to blame. Not him."

Meryl meets my gaze for her to see the serious expression on my face. So she listens closely as I answer. "Because he cares way too damn much for everyone but himself, Meryl. After this long, you shouldn't have to even ask that question." Meryl gives a long sigh to nod her head and walk with Milly out of the room. With my own steps soon to follow.

Getting to the inn didn't take very long. But I was surprised to find the door to my shared room with Vash was unlocked. With Wolfwood already by the door when I peeked inside. His tension melting away as he saw me. "Praise the Lord. You doing all right?" I nodded to give him a hug. His own arms like steel as I huffed a laugh into his chest. "Better than a certain angel. But it'll be okay. I appreciate you being here for him. It means the world, Nicholas." Wolfwood gave that rumbled chuckle before letting me go. His cross soon at his back for him to walk out the door. "Anytime, Retha. Now I will go and get some repair work done on Angelina as well as a hot meal."

Soon enough, I sat myself by Vash. Who was in the bed and rolled up in the blanket like he was hiding from the world. So I slipped my boots and jacket off to then give a warm sigh. "You are going to thank Wolfwood and the insurance girls later with something home made. No excuses, love. So would you think about putting the guilt to the side and actually looking at me a moment?"

Vash took a moment before he moved. The blanket falling away as he sat up in front of me. And he looked more of a wreck than I felt. His eyes were red from crying. As was his nose. With him giving a hard sob to look every problem in the world was his fault. So I scooted closer to place my hands to his face. Soft words given as I stared at him with all the love I had in me. "Thank you for fighting to keep us all safe. Both in the bar. And every time you choose to protect those around you. Do not let yourself believe I blame you for failure, Vash. Be it last night. Or any time in the past or future. I am in this for the long haul. No matter what comes at us. You will always be my beloved crimson bird."

Vash gave a hard sob to shudder so hard it made the bed creak. Those beautiful eyes closing as he said with aching words, "But you got hurt! I wasn't fast enough to keep that guy from hitting you! It's my fault that-" I move to wrap my arms around Vash and place a soft kiss to his lips. Several more kisses given to keep him from finishing. With my own words washing against his lips. "No Vash. Do not do such to yourself. Not to my crimson bird. Not to the one I love most. You may believe you failed me. But that will never be true in my eyes. You did your best. And that makes me so very proud of you. That's all I will ever ask of you my sweet soul. That you do your best."

Vash gave another hard sob to press himself into me. His hands coming up to grip the back of my shirt as tight as possible. So I rocked us back and forth as he continued to cry and sob. Just letting him let all the pain and sadness free to wash over the moment and pass by with time. My humming of an old church hymn as I held Vash close. Not really minding the throbbing ache in the back of my head. But soon enough, Vash gave a long sigh to ease into me after exhausting himself. So I laid us down on the bed properly to pull the blanket over us and keep humming. My kisses catching his tears for him to all but fall asleep. His words soft and full of love. "Thank you so much, Retha. I promise I'll always do my best for you."

My smile is genuine as I chuckle. "Good to know, crimson bird. Just rest for now. Then we'll go and get something filling to eat."

#Trigun fanfic drabble #vash the stampede x oc #got inspired by some fanfics on Tumblr and AO3 #so I'm writing this out instead of trying to sleep #Vash needs all the hugs and love

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

Trick or Treat: Silver ver.

Notes: Silver x Reader (romantic relationship), Working with the fish mafia, fluff, halloween time! 

How to trick or treat a Silver 101. You prepped this book for weeks ever since Halloween season started. Though, it was hard for you to do either. Silver was a very sweet lover; he always knew what to treat you to. Not to mention how hard it was to trick him since Lilia has done everything already. Just when matters couldn’t get any worse, he found the book.

Part 1

Silver: What’s that notebook for? *picking up the book* You: Oh, it’s my… wait! Don’t look any closer! Silver: *Drops the book, ends up opening* I’m sorry. You: *sigh* That book had all of my plans. I asked everyone I knew and came up with that book to help me. Silver: Do you want me to pretend I never saw anything? You: No, it’s alright. I’ll just have to come up with something else to scare you with. Or well, what scares you? Silver: Losing the ones I love. Especially the thought of losing you.

Bit by bit Silver’s face comes closer and just as you expected a kiss you felt his head land on your shoulder.

You: Hah~ Silver how am I supposed to catch you off guard.

Part 2

You: Sam! I need something that will catch Silver off guard! Sam: Little demon, you already have it though. You: I do? Sam: Yes, the book. Didn’t you prepare that book especially for this moment? You: I did…

Sam: I see, you’re back to square one now. You: What do I do! ???: I may be of use if you would like? You: Azul? Are you sure? Especially since you’ve never dated anyone before. Azul: Fufufu. Don’t underestimate me or my talents in the love department. You: Well, I guess it’s better than nothing.

With that you were whisked away by the purple octopus.

Azul: Now, don’t underestimate the use of body language! You: I see all I need to do is… Jade: Oya oya you two seem to be having quite the fun. Floyd: What are you two doing over there? You: Well, you see…

After telling the twins your troubles, they all seemed to pitch in on their thoughts. Overtime, it seemed you were finally able to form a plan.

Part 3

Your P.O.V

You: Silver! *hugging him from the back*

I need to remember. Floyd told me to squeeze as tight as possible.

Silver: Oh, happy Halloween~ *voice strains from the hug* You: Quick, trick or treat! Silver: Treat? *faces you*

Jade told me to give Silver this bouquet of mountain veggies. He says it gets them everytime.

You: Here *holds out the bouquet* It's mountain veggies. I got them for you! Silver: *smiles* Thank you, are you okay? You: *reading a sign that Azul is holding in the bushes* Yes, I am so happy right now I couldn’t have been better! Silver, don’t you think you should ask me the question trick or treat too? Silver: Okay, trick or treat? You: *still reading the board* Whatever you do, don't pick trick! Oh wait, I wasn't supposed to read that! Um, treat? Silver: *looks over at the bushes* Azul what are you doing over there? Azul,Jade, Floyd: *descends deeper into the bushes* Floyd: We’re not here! Jade: Oya oya Azul: *face palms*

Silver: What’s going on? You: Well, you see…

After the fish mafia leaves you confess everything you’re greeted with a smiling Silver.

Silver: I didn’t know you wanted to catch me off guard that much. You: I must have look like a failure~ Silver: No, not in the least. I was actually really caught off guard from the start. You: Really? Silver: Yes *pulling your face closer Silver leans in*

*bam*

You: Hahaha Silver: Sorry our heads bumped into each other You: That’s alright~

Meanwhile

Sebek: Why are we watching these two? Lilia: It’s for educational purposes, don’t you want to learn how to win the heart of the one you love too? Look Malleus is even taking down notes. Fufu. Malleus: *intense scribbles*

#twst #twisted wonderland #last one #it's quite long #trick or treat #treat #trick #silver #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #silver x reader #romance is in the air #don't forget body language #I live for the fish mafia #fish mafia #malleus #lilia #sebek #jade #floyd #azul #sam #halloween

[himbos-hotline]

To you I'm just a man [to me you're all I am]

Context: Hangman does pottery and reflects on his relationship with Kenny after all out while alone on his family farm. Hangman has issues and talks to a horse instead of a therapist. Takes place after the match against FTR in 2020. Word count: 7165 words Characters: "Hangman" Adam Page, Kenny Omega, the Jackson brothers. Mentions of Beth Pheonix [She's adam coles mother in a kid AU my big sibling and I are writing- kinda- but yeah. This could be seen as a spin off of that universe. I dont fuckin know.] Kaden the Horse, authors note: I have brainrot...I need mental help. But we all been knew. Triggers: suicide mention, self harm, breakups, A quick mention of parent death. Tiny mention of smut but no actual fucking. I think thats about it. Yeh... AO3

"I'll catch you." and Adam believed him. His voice is calm and heavy with gasping breaths and promise dances across the three simple words. And so he trusts him, he jumps and surrenders himself over to the glorious freefall of love and when Kenny whispers it in his ear again it's cold. It smacks him back into reality and he lays against the concrete of realness feeling betrayed and tricked.

He fell like a suicidal stranger and landed in the emptily cold arms of a man who peiced his shattered heart together again.

He tries not to think about it while he kneads the tough clay between his clammy hands, feeling it weave between his fingers. His knuckles are bruised and the small cuts sting as clay clings itself to his fingers. He had taken pottery up as a child, finding it easier to bury his hands into the dirty water instead of letting them shake by his sides as he stumbled uselessly over his words. His mother had smiled as he dug his chubby fingers into the clay and left behind small half moons and misplaced thumbprints. Somewhere in his distant memory, he remembers sitting on the floor of the old family farm, watching the small mugs harden in the oven, cheap paint cracking in a way that seems almost human.

The wheel in front of him creaks and a small, childish smile paints itself across Adam's face as he places the kneaded clay down and digs his nails into the familiarity of it all. Sitting in his old kitchen, the sound of farm animals outside the open window and the smell of clay and pottery paint scalding his nostrils with every steady intake of air. His mind drifts while he works, brushing his thumb over the rim of a mug. It leaves behind a dent and it makes Adam frown, his lips pressed into a tight grimace of understanding.

Everything he makes is broken. There's messy rims on plates with holes in and mugs where their handles sag somewhat off to the side. He leaves behind parts of himself in his creations. Useless creations made by a broken man who is cursed to always be alone. The last bird in the nest, watching fearfully as his friends fly away, leaving him empty and nervously alone; never to be remembered. Never to be missed. The water is cold against his fingers as he plunges them in to soften the clay more. Watered down clay splashes against his face and he narrows his eyes, ignoring the feeling of realness it gives him as he works. His fingers shift too heavily and his creation comes tumbling down like a shattered mirror and without thinking he slams his fists against the broken mixture. Clay sprays everywhere and as he leans his forehead against his fists, he can hear his mothers voice humming distantly in the back of his head.

“Adam, sweetheart, it's okay to make mistakes.” His mother tells him in his mind, kneeling in front of him and using her fingers to part blond hair away from his face. Slowly he raises his eyes and blinks slowly, wishing that his mother was here to hold his face in her hands, to tell him that he’s still her little cowboy. That he's not a failure. He smiles at his mothers pride in him and sighs. Beth was a mother who saw the best in her son, the one person who believed that he was good. That betrayal wasn’t weaved into his soul. He wishes he could believe the voice now as he stretches sore arms and swallows the taste of tears back down into his stomach.

He gathers the broken bits of clay and presses them together, making a wet ball in his hands before standing up and tossing the clay into the nearest trash can. “Destined to fail this time huh?” He muses, talking to nobody in particular. Maybe to himself, maybe to the discontinued idea for an artwork that sits melting over takeaway containers and beer bottles.

Failure is a part of him, weaved so deeply into his existence that it paints a dark cloud across every relationship he makes. Every friendship falls through his fingers like the sands of time and no matter how tightly he tries to cling onto the good moments eventually they disappear. Melting away like the last remains of winter as the sun rises again to kiss the earth. Adam fails, he sits and lets his emotions control his mind, blood drips itself slowly down his arm and in his blood, Adam tells a story. He tells a story of a man too good to be forgotten but too evil, too foolishly shattered to be remembered.

People want to remember him. That’s what Kenny told him the last time they spoke. He had on the kitchen counter, rolling one of the mugs Hangman had made in school. Tracing broken nails across the messy text of ‘best mom’. “What's with the fingerprint?” He had asked with a softness in his voice that made Page feel warm in his stomach.

“I leave a part of myself in everything I do.” He places his arm around Kenny’s middle and lays his head against his shoulder. “Ma used to like hearts so I made one with my fingerprint.” His nail traces over the whorls and there's a distant gleam to his eyes that makes Kenny smile and bury his lips into the curls of his hair.

“When mom died, she kept everything the way it was. So part of me lived on as people moved in and out of this place- family mostly. They would always pick up the mugs and talk about how small whoever made the mug hands was back then or how it looked; innocent and brilliant and strangely real.” Hangman keeps his eyes closed as he talks, thumb running itself over Kenny’s wrist. “I was some kind of anonymous artist.”

Kenny takes his chin in his hand, calloused fingertips digging gently into the scruff of his beard. “Hanger, Lover boy. Everyone should know you. You're talented and smart and outstanding in the ring. You are good Adam, and I love you..” His words are painted with a truth and slowly Adam opens his eyes and leans his lips against Kenny’s too stunned to form sentences, that tells Kenny just how wrong he is, how his heart had clouded his mind.

Adam sighs, the taste of Kenny’s words buzzing distantly on his lips and if he leans his head against the window, he can almost feel the other man's eyes boring into his neck as he washes the clay out from under his nails. But Kenny isn’t watching him, he's alone with nothing but sheep and horses to watch him as emotions brew behind cloudy eyes. He had fought against Kenny and the two of them have merged together, falling for each other the way someone falls for a favorite song, quick enough that the first few beats send their brain into a cloudy euphoria that sends time spiraling into obscurity. They lay against each other the night they won the tag tiles, pupils dilated with joy. Kenny leaned closer and he couldn't control himself. Adam leans closer and tastes the last stray strands of mint on his breath that he gasped into his parted lips. The two of them merge and shift like their two lost halves finally finding each other again and Adam becomes addicted to the way his name sounds on Kenny’s moans.

The suddenly scalding water against his hands pushes the memories to the back of Adam’s mind as he pulls his hands back and groans as pain rushes against his arm. All out had taken too much out of his body and two days later, he’s still suffering the effects; sore, tired muscles and a headache that he cannot seem to shake. It reminds him that history has once again repeated itself.

He had been left laying on the ground, blood and sweat mixing against the dirty ring mat. It was always the same. Adam was always the one who is left alone as darkness creeps in, brushing its cold, dead hands across the pulsepoint of his neck, puppeting him until he’s sitting alone at a bar, staring down at the bar through a half empty glass of whiskey, its smokey woodness a bitter sickness on his tongue.

It had happened with the Elite more times than Page could count and it's always the same tale that he could tell strangers it; they leave him laying in the dust and color him in with disgusted looks and heavy sighs and he pretends to be okay until he gives in and calls Matt, begging them to be friends against and eventually Matt gives in and smooths his racing mind until he’s smiling. The Elite break him over and over again, handing him his heart back in shattered sections and Adam sits, alone and confused, putting the bits back together, licking at the blood that drips steadily from his fingers as he mends the fractured friendships. The Dark Order are better but they do the same but they're kinder. They sit him down and tell him about his issues.

Issues that he stares at in the bathroom mirror. Issues that date back to the incurable sickness that dates back to the Bullet Club. A poison that drips into each of its members and never leaves their bloodstreams. No matter how much is spilled, it clings to the inside of peoples arteries until it kills their bodies, their careers and then they move on to another broken minded individual. Adam Page’s connection with the Bullet Club lies dormant until it digs its venom smudged fangs into his mind and he messes up again. He fucks up enough that he looses everything. He comes so close and then tumbles through the sky like Icraus, screaming helplessly as his wax wings melt and he once again tumbles trapped in bottles of whiskey and darkness.

“Adam c’mon you're better than this.” He reminds himself as he climbs the stairs and falls face first into bed. It complains under the sudden weight and he takes a slow breath counting the seconds that fall as he breaths. His dirty jeans itch against his legs and he knows he should change, but emotional exhaustion brings sleep to the forefront of his brain, eyes suddenly heavy in the darkness. Adam rolls over, hair brushes against his face and buries his nose into his pillows.

He’s back in the ring, sweat coating a second skin against his stinging flesh and guilty tears put pressure behind his nose that makes him want to yelp. His legs are trembling under his wrestling gear, why can’t he stand? He wants to cry but when he opens his mouth and blinks his eyes, nothing comes out. The world blurs as he moves, kneeling in the middle of the ring, whimpering. There’s a heavy sigh and the sound of angry footsteps that make the ringmat shake and it makes his eyes snap upwards, pupils tight and constricted. “Kenny-?” He gasps out his name like it's holy water falling onto his lips and he begs Kenny to look at him. Page raises his hand helplessly and Kenny’s eyes chill to an icy emptiness that makes Hangman's blood run cold in his veins.

Kenny holds a table above his head, the thick wood and heavy metal legs clinting like a dagger in the arena lights. Hangman rocks forward, shaking legs screaming and he grabs onto Kennys leg. Kenny steps away like Adam has burned him and he raises the table Adam feels it connects against his skull. Screaming in pain he rocks backwards onto his ankles. He feels like he's falling and while he yells, the world falls away from him like the tumbling of dying rose petals. The room falls dark and in the silence Adam feels hands, hands brushing against his throbbing head, cold and innocent as fingers wrap around his hair. A pair of lips brush against his neck and it takes all his remaining strength not to gasp at the surprise. It’s calm and more hands join, pressing down against his burning skin, soothing the blooming bruises and allowing his blood to weave itself around their fingers. It's only when he hears a voice, empty, soulless and distant, does color snap into the world.

He’s sitting in the corner of the elite's locker room, lips sewn together and chest dripping blood. He raises a hand and feels around his bloodstained shirt, his heart lays empty and pulsing on his lap and Adam feels sick, vomit burning his throat. “Adam is so fucking annoying.” Kenny complains with a sigh, not looking up from his switch. The Bucks nod in agreement and chuckle when Kenny shifts to lay upside down.

“He’s always so-” Nick starts waving his hand as he walks, trying to pick the right word out from. His eyes shine with anger as he spits out. “Anxious. Childish.”

“Hes so fucking useless.” Matt mumbles from the floor behind the couch. He has an ice pack laying across his face and Hangman leans forwards, fighting to open his mouth. They’re his friends. They don’t mean that. Do they?

“I can't believe I actually dated him.” Kenny seems to be recoiling, laughing at their time together where their hearts beat as one continuous tune. He presses his eyebrows together and glares at the direction where Hangman is sitting but his eyes look past him, almost like he doesn't exist. “I told him he mattered, that he’s something more than just some poser with an anxiety disorder.”

There's a collection of laughter and Adam thrashes against the sudden restraints that had wrapped themselves around his wrists, digging heavy and painfully into the already scuffed skin. “It would be better if he didn't even exist. He brings nothing to the world. He should just die, save us all the trouble of fucking dealing with him. It's not like anyone would miss him.”

Kennys words stab his chest like darts. They carve his chest open and Adam screams against his stitched up lips, the sound echoing only in his own mouth. Darkness swirls like cigarette smoke around the corner of his eyes and it's only when the pounding of his separated heart echoes in his ears does Adam sit up, chest heaving and eyes red.

Fearful eyes dart around the sunrise-lit room. It’s not some random hotel room or some stranger's bedroom. It's the same that he’s always been in since he was seven. There’s dirt on the windows, childish handprints and feathers that seemingly clung to his clothes after he came out from the chicken coup, and the sound of his childhood alarm clock ticking on the desk at the opposite end of the room. Adam takes a calming breath and scrubs his fists against his wet face before allowing a trembling hand to reach out and grab his phoneHe presses the power button and it blares into light.

It stings his eyes but at least now he has a reasonable excuse for his tears. He blinks down at his lockscreen and sighs softly, at the time. “Four twenty three.” He grumbles and pulls his pillow over his head. It’s too early to go through his chores on the farm but late enough that going back to sleep means missing his flight. Stubbornly, Adam shifts his legs out from under the covers and pulls his upper body up, squinting as he stares into the sunrise. The nightmare still rings, heavy and raw in the front of his mind, snippets sprint past his eyes whenever he closes them and as he passes the bathroom mirror. He raises his shirt and traces shaking fingers across his chest and sighs in relief when he feels his racing heart pounding under his ribs.

Adam needs to shower. He strips, stopping once again to make sure that the scars on his chest are old, faded into his skin like a bullet hidden in a tree. He reaches out and turns on the water, smiling slightly as the shower creaks into working and for a few seconds the shower runs cold, its old pipes warming up inside the walls of the old farmhouse.

It seems to take forever but finally the water warms up and he steps inside, sighing as the water drums against his skull, sticking his hair to his face. He feels the last wisps of sleep soak away as the water pounds against his shoulders and it sucks the pain out from his bones. With closed eyes and awkwardly controlled breathing he washes his hair and runs a sponge across his tired limbs. The farm crackles to life outside the window and in some distant part of his mind he remembers his mother placing him on the back of the tractor, nestled on hay bails to go and feed the horses. He’d stand on the fence and squeal as horses pressed their nose into the curve of his small hands.

He remembers the ducklings that would follow him, falling over themselves when he stops suddenly. He remembers his mothers soft voice as she fed the pigs, patting them roughly on their behinds. The sound echoes in his mind and soon the nostalgia falls away, the sound of skin connecting with skin starts to sound disastrously more human. Flashes of his nightmare splints through his mind, pinning his closed eyes shut. He sees Kenny rising the table, He spots himself ,sore and tired, kneeling at the feet of a false prophet who he had fought beside. Voices loop around his head and they feel like they're draping nooses around his neck, pressing against his pulse points until his heart swims, frantic and drowning, in his ears.

He knows what's happening. He knows the signs of a panic attack and despite the pain that tightens his chest, Adam knows what to do. He knows that he should open his eyes and focus on his breathing. In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. The same looping pattern until the hands of panic release their grip. But he just can't. His chest feels like it's going to explode if he took too deep of a breath in. His legs tremble under him and he collapses to the bathroom floor with a thud that echoes around him.

Blunt nails dig into the wet skin of his scalp, shaking fingers carving rivets between his hair. Adam grits his teeth and curls into a ball under the warm water, tears running down his face and down the drain. He feels like a silhouette in his own existence when panic attacks happen. They suck the existence from his bones and leave him an empty husk, desperately clinging to any form of humanity. His chest heaves and his mouth runs dry as he sobs. Allowing the tremors to wrack his frame until the shower runs cold before stopping enterly.

He’s not sure how long he stays curled up on the floor, head pressed between his knees and fingers tugging at his hair, goosebumps coat his skin and Adam can do nothing but release a stuttering sigh, his brain works in staccato beats, angry jerks that force his legs out flat in front of him and his fingers digging anxiously into the flesh of his lower arm.

It's inevitable that he would end up like this. His hand shakes against his skin, clawing away at the meat until there's angry red marks that stare up at him like the eyes of a judgemental parent. The pain is normally enough to remind him that he is real and that the panic that feels like it's ripping his very being to pieces is temporary. But it's not this time. His nails dig deeper into the wound and soon there's the feeling of blood under his nails and angry red splotches staring up at him, dark and resentful against the blue floor. Pin-pricked eyes glance around the bathroom, he’s slow, almost cautious as he presses his hand against the wound, grip soft at first until a small voice tells him to squeeze and his grip tightens.

Blood pulses and runs down his arm like rain down a window and for a few seconds, startled and dissociated, Adam can do nothing but watch it as it falls between his fingers and merge into the small puddles of water that sits around him. It takes moments for the wounds to clot, blood stopping and Adam blinks as he forces his fingers to bend. Bloodstained fingers reach up to the shower and press the on button again.

Cold water hits skin and he sits on the floor, holding his arm out like a child who fell off his bike. The water runs pink and then clear and finally Hangman can manage to stagger to his feet and grab a towel. The claw marks sting distantly and stubbornly as he dresses, a constant reminder that he had failed. That he had broken and fell back into the same stupid habit of hurting himself. Because he always has to be the victim. If he’s not the one bleeding, people can’t feel sorry for him and that's all he wants right? He wants people to stare at him with pity in their eyes and apologies that bubble off their lips and float around his head like butterflies.

If he is not the victim then he is useless. Some stupid kid whose too anxious to be a good friend. Someone who, like Kenny said, would be better off dead than clogging up another space in the roster, on the earth.

He swallows and pulls a shirt over his head and lets it fall against his damp chest. Still wet hair sticks to the back of his neck, fluffing as it dries and he's quick to tug it into a ponytail as he squirms into yesterday's jeans. Bare feet and off kitler, Adam opens the curtain and presses his forehead against the frosted glass, it's cold and there and his entire world lays untouched and waiting for him. Through split lips, he breathes a chuckle. It's not a happy sound- it's a wear sound that's borderlining on tears. “At least someone needs ya Hangman huh?”

He pulls on his boots and rolls his neck before opening the door and resigning himself back to his animals. The things that can only hurt him once. Kenny can touch his wrestling career all he wants. Their souls can weave together to build a tapestry that will stand the test of time. But Adam can sit beside the duck pond and listen to the sounds of new life. The world can reclaim him slowly and the animals that sit and watch it happen, can remember him silently.

He’s leaning against the gate to the horse paddock when he next remembers Kenny. It's a quick flash of a memory. The sunlight dancing across his bare back as he hides his face in a pillow. Adam remembers the guilt that seemed to dance in the corner of Kenny’s eyes whenever he would look at Adam, he remembers how good it felt that he was to be loved. That someone needed him. He tries to lean into the memory, fingers reaching out to stroke down Kenny’s spine. He jolts back into the real world when he pokes something soft and tough. “Sorry Kaden.” He whispers sheepishly, patting the horse on the nose. “’M a million miles away.”

Kaden raises his head against his hand and Hangman chuckles. “I know I know. I won’t be away for long. And you and the other guys will have great aunt Mary to look after you guys.” When the horse sighs, Adam leans forward and lays his forehead against its dark brown fur. “I won’t be away for long. Kenny will make sure of that.” The horse seems to neigh in reply, small and quiet and awkward. “Kenny and I ain’t friends at the moment. I lost and he has the right to be angry.” His eyebrows screwed up together as if he had tasted something sour. Kaden bows his head and Hangman takes that as a sign to keep talking. “But people win and lose matches we were…close.” There's a dusting of a blush that grows across the apples of his cheeks and he sighs. “But now he won't talk to me. And I understand why but Kenny was the one that stormed out of the arena! He was the one who left the Bucks behind and I get that the Bucks and I ain't as close as we use’ta be but-” The horse makes a sound and Hangman takes it as a reminder to take a breath. And that's what he does. Closes his eyes and draws a heavy breath of farm air.

“I just wish I was a better friend y’know Kaden?” He asks, blinking confused. “I’m talkin to a horse. What the hell is wrong with me?” He seems to laugh at himself, jolting against the metal bars of the fence when he gets a text from his aunt. She’s standing on the doorstep and the cab that Hangman had called had been sitting outside for the past five minutes. “It’ll all be okay won’t it..” He promises, maybe to himself or maybe to the horse who winnies and trots over to the other side of the field to chew rhythmically at the hay Adam had put up moments ago. His boots click against the stone path as he jogs back into the house and grabs his bags.

“Adam be careful out there honey, call me after you finish work.” His aunt tells him, placing her hand in the small of his back. “Oh Adam. Before you go.” She calls from inside the house when Hangman has closed the car door halfway. There’s a seriousness to her voice and he holds the heavy door at arms length and raises an eyebrow to prompt her to continue. “We’re all so very prouda you.”

A twinge of pride blossoms in Hanger's chest, growing like the first wildflower after winter and he nods awkwardly before closing the door and melting against the leather seats of the cab. The driver only speaks to ask what time his flight is and nods when Adam tells him it's in five hours but he wants to get to the airport early. The car trundles up through countryside roads and slowly merges into the bustling traffic of the city. The sudden change of air condition that floats through the open window makes Hangman cough slightly, lowering his mask to give the driver an apologetic smile. He nods, raising a gloved hand as an acceptance and settled in the fact that Adam hadn’t screwed up a minor social interaction, he puts his mask back on and relaxes against the seats again, accepting the comfortably numb feeling that floods over his body. He brushes his fingers over where the wounds are, pressing the curve of his knuckles into them slightly, and gives a comfortable sigh when pain tingles through his system again.

The flight happens with minor turbulence and when the wheels touch down on the tarmac, Adam is one of the first people to get off. The idea of being on a flight had always set him on edge but after recent events he just wanted to get to his hotel and lay down for a few moments before the car came to pick him up to take him to the arena. The line for security rolls slowly and Adam picks anxiously at the skin of his thumb as he waits for his things after being scanned. A few people ask him for autographs and he is happy to comply. Children stare at him with acceptance in their eyes and Hangman can’t help but smile and lean down to ruffle their hair.

He’s leaning against the banister of the escalator when a familiar face catches his eye from the crowd. There’s suddenly a bad taste in Adam’s mouth, the kind of taste people get just before they throw up. Bile bubbles up his throat and Adam swallows it down before spitting out. “Nick?”

Nick looks up from his phone and raises his hand awkwardly at the other man, stepping forward to place a hand on his suitcase. “Hey.” His voice is dull, rough with disuse and anxiety. “I’m sorry about Sunday.'' Even from behind his mask, ADam can tell that hes chewing awkwardly on his bottom lip. He shrugs, waving a hand noncomuicationally. “No Kenny was a real dick.”

“I deserved it.” Adam whispers, the words getting lost in the roar of travelers. Nick tilts his head to the side confused, eyes mimicking those Adam used to see on the old family sheepdog. “I should have fought harder.” He states louder, simpler. Nick just shakes his head and wraps his hand around the handle of Adam’s luggage and walks off. Blinking for a few seconds in confusion, Adam registers that he suddenly doesn't have his luggage and jogs to catch up with Nick, placing his hand in the middle of his spine when catches up with him. It’s a friendly gesture that Adam does out of routine. It’s an accident but one that Nick seems not to mind. He pauses in front of a car and opens the door.

“D’ya want me to push you into the car or what?” He snaps, an aura of playfulness flowing in his eyes. Hangman manages an awkward smile and slowly lowers himself into the back of the car. He stares down at his trembling hands, confusion painting itself clear across his face. There’s a breeze from the open window and Adam pulls his mask off, itching at his cheeks and face.

By the time Nick packs his luggage in the trunk of the car, Hanger is officially confused. They weren't friends so why was Nick here to pick him up? Was he in some kind of danger? A small part of his brain yells at him to look around and so he does, using the car's rear view mirror to look into the back seats. He’s so hyper focused on making sure that he's the only one in the car, he almost forgets that Nick exists and it's only when he slams the driver's side door closed does Adam flinch and allow his eyes to snap toward to stare out the window. “Why are you picking me up?” He blurts out about halfway into the ride to the arena.

Nick seems to wince at the question, lips pressing into a bitter line of thought before going. “You gotta make up with Kenny.”

Adam starts to itch at his arm through his shirt sleeve, catching Nick's eyes in the mirror when they reach a red light.

“He’s been a real asshole, yknow.” The light turns green and the other man focuses his eyes on the road again. The car is eerily silent for a few seconds before Nick continues. “He’s getting pissed at the smallest things and if he's not swearing his damn head off he’s quiet and pouting at his phone like he's expecting someone to call. Its stressful and-”

“What do you want me to do?” Hangman snaps, using his nails to unbutton his shirt sleeve, he needs to feel his nails agianst his skin, warm and clammy and real. He needs to remind himself that he exists in the back of a rental car with someone who he used to continue a friend. A friend that left him alone and awkward and bitter.

“Fix. it.” Nick snaps back, his grip knuckle white against the steering wheel. There’s a few tense seconds before both men exhale, the sheer comedic timing of it making them both flash a toothy half grin as they pull into the hotel room parking lot. “We don't care how Hangy, but fix it. It's upsetting people, it's hurting people.”

His head sags slightly as he gets out of the car and Nick’s words ring in Adam’s ears. He’s hurting people and that's the last thing he wanted to do with his arguments with Kenny. Sure, he wanted to hurt Kenny. There were times in his life where he would dream of Kenny’s blood decorating the ring like a Jackson Pollock painting. But this wasn’t one of those times. His fatigued brain wanted nothing more than to just crawl into his arms and listen to the sound of Kenny’s heartbeat washing over him like foaming sea waves. “I never meant to hurt anyone.” Adam promises when he squirms out of the car and follows Nick into the hotel lobby.

It's unremarkably quiet and the lack of people settles Adam’s anxiety to a small glowing ball in his stomach. He gathers his keycard and clings to it as he wheels his suitcase into the elevator. He raises his arm, pushing strands of blond hair off his face. Nick reaches out and takes his wrist, twisting his arm over. “What are you doing?” Adam asks, snatching his arm away and tugging the sleeve over his hand.

“Are you.” Nick doesn;t know how to approach the question. They’re not exactly as close as they used to be. But the dark red marks that stared at him when Adam lifted his arm made his stomach still, heavy at the bottom of his feet. “Are you hurting yourself Adam?”

There's an indignant splutter that doesn’t stop when the elevator dings and the doors open. “No, of course not. I'm not that kid anymore.” Lies drip off Adam's tongue easily but he can't bring himself to look Nick in the eye. He’s staring at him with pity in his dark eyes and despite Adams normal so-thought desire that he liked people looking at him like that, it makes him feel nauseous and dizzy. His legs tremble under his clay stained jeans like they did in the shower and he pushes his fist into the meat of his calf when Nick isn't looking.

They don’t talk about that topic again. Not until that night where Adam is clinging his arm close to his chest, standing on the doorstep to the Young Bucks locker room. Matt opens the door and makes a startled sound and quickly pulls Adam in by a scrap of his shirt that isn't stained crimson.

“What the fuck happened!?” He asks, dropping Hanger onto the couch like he was a pile of dirty clothes. The brothers look at each other with wide eyes that flicker as if the two of them are talking.

“I-Do-n’t-I cant…I can't-” He rocks forward, pressing his temples to his knees. His body shakes so badly that Matt kneels in front of him, using his arms to stabilize Adam on the couch so he doesnt fall off. “Help-” Adam begs weakly, tears mixing with blood on his face. Nick strokes his hair like he was stroking a cat before nodding at his brother and leaving the locker room.

“Lemme see. Lemmme see. It's okay. Shh.” Matt coos, resting his hand over Adam’s. His fingers worm into his palm and gently pulls the locked joints loose, massaging until Hangman’s hand hangs loosely and blood stained in his smaller one. “Oh Adam. what was it?”

There’s beats of silence. Adam looking at the floor or the ceiling and Matt gently pressing a cloth from his open suitcase against his arm before he can manage to look him in the eyes and whisper “razor.”

The younger man sighs and wipes the blood off his arm. “You’ll just need some bandaids. There in my other bag. I’m still gonna be right here. I’m not leaving, I promise you.”

The nod that Hangman gives is a sharp and curt twist of his neck and Matt is slow to release his hand. “It's okay, it's gonna be okay I promise.” He continues to whisper as he makes his way across the room. Adam listens to the sound of his ring boots against the carpeted floor and uses them as a beat for his breathing. Breath in on the left, breath out on the right. Matt returns and gently cups Page’s chin in his hand before holding up the bandaids, they are brown and the box is dented from overuse. Slowly, Adam stretches out his arm again and shows Matt the wounds.

There's three identical cuts across his left trice. Long and red and stinging. Matt pokes them curiously, making sure that none of them need to be stitched up before carefully smoothing bandaids across his skin. Adam feels like he's being coddled but when Matt cups his cheek again, he tilts his hand in relishing in the touch of another human being.

The door behind them clicks open and Matt steps away, grabbing his brother and pulling him away before Nick has the chance to open his mouth. The door clicks closed and Adam falls against the back of the couch, curling his knees into his chest and pressing his forehead against his jeans. His body pounds are dissociated and fatigued and he almost doesn't register the feeling of someone else being in the room until someone coughs, an awkward sound that makes Hangman jolt his head up.

“Kenny?”

Kenny smiles, the corner of his lips tugging awkwardly into what feels like a fake grin. Almost like he wanted to be anywhere else that staring at Adam, curled up on his former friend's couch looking a mess. “Hey.” Even his voice is stunted and awkward, rough and sharp and disappointed.

Adam stretches his fingers out carefully before they snap back into a fist. Kenny isn’t his to touch anymore, he isn’t Adams to love anymore. Feeling like he's been punched, Adam curls deeper into his knees and through the gap in his legs, watches as Kenny’s shoes take a step closer. The springs groan under the sudden added weight of Kenny next to him and Adam slumps slightly, head knocking softly against the join of the couch cushions.

He watches the other man from the corner of his eye, keeping a careful glare on the way his shoulders slump and the way his icey eyes focus on a small pile of the Buck’s discarded clothes that sit alone by the door to the locker room. “I’m sorry.” Adam finally mumbles out, so quiet that Kenny has to face him and carefully nudge him to repeat it. “I’m sorry..”

“I know.” Kenny states simply, hands tucked into his lap. His fingers knot together and Hangman watches as the color drains from his knuckles. Slowly he starts to uncurl, pressing his boot souls against the floor firmly. Hangman presses weight into his toes, hoping that the dull sting of pressure that skates its way up and down his legs is enough to keep him focused. His muscles feel tight and shaky under his jeans and Kenny is careful to place a hand against his thigh, thumb spreading out against the curve of his knee. “I know.” He states, voice dimmer. Colder.

Adam watches, sighing as Kenny's thumb massages the anxiety out of his legs. Carefully he rolls his ankles and gently wiggles his fingers. Anything that stops him from asking the question that bubbles onto his tongue so violently that Adam fears that he may throw up. He parts his lips and the question tumbles out.

“Do you still love me?”

Kenny blinks at him, stares into his eyes for a few moments before averting his gaze back down to the floor. Neither man wants to say it. Not out loud. Adam keeps his eyes on Kenny’s face as it cortourtes and his shoulders sag when Kenny barely manages to shake his head. “I can’t.” Adam feels tears press against the gap between his eyes and he presses his knuckles into his cheeks, pushing them away. “..why?” He feels like a child, open-minded and curious at the world.

“Because it's not cute Adam!” Kenny has stood now, stepping away to gaze at Adam on the couch with a look that seems akin to a farmer staring at a dying animal. Part of his mind begs for Kenny to end his suffering, to kick him in the head until his temple explodes like a buckshot.

But all he does is stares at him, with a cold pitty. Adam knows that Kenny is speaking the truth that he's not a partner that people should be proud of, he isn't a prized pony that people should parade around. His shoulders curve and he swallows the tears that threaten to make him look weak, his brain screams for him to dig his nails into the cuts but he knows he’d feel guilty getting blood on the Bucks hardwood floor or over theri couch. So, he keeps his eyes closed and ears open as Kenny continues.

“It's not easy to love people like you. It's draining and hard. You make me feel like my entire soul is being sucked out of my body! I can't love you. I don't love you. I don’t think I ever have. Not honestly. Everything that happened was convenient; a simple stress reliever. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Kenny’s words tumblr out of his mouth like a waterfall and each one stabs Hangman in the chest like venom soaked spears.

“”I’m sorry.” The words are strangled by unshed tears when they drop out of Adam’s mouth and onto the floor. He picks at the stray bits of clay on his jeans and wonders why he’s allowing himself to listen to the words that Kenny is spouting. He doesn't know. A crooked smile spreads across his lips and Hangman wishes that alcohol could dance in his bloodstream, maybe it would make the words sting less. Or maybe he would relate to them more and allow them to soak into his mind until he’s repeating them like a mantra.

With a sigh, Kenny turns his back on Hangman, fingers against the door knob. “I’m sorry but I won't die because of your sadness.” The door clicks open and closed again and once again, Adam is alone.

Maybe, he always will be. And maybe that's okay.

Maybe he will retreat back to his old family farm, cover himself head to toe in scars that sting in a sickly human way and allow himself to lay down by the duck pond and allow the world to reclaim him.

Animals will make homes in between his ribs and Adam will finally be needed.

Be loved in the way he always desired.

Peacefully. Anonymously. Like a forgotten painter whose artwork is displayed in old homes to hide the rotting decay of age and water damage in the walls.

He’ll be remembered like fingerprints in clay and adored like kiln fire; warm, exposing, fixable.

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#hangman page #hangman adam page #adam page #kenny omega #the young bucks #the elite #the dark order #one winged cowboys #anyways #mouse writes #reblogs are appreciated

[lythea-creation]

The Hunger Games Boyfriend/Girlfriend Scenarios - Your First Kiss

Warnings: angsty for Finnick (ptsd), Johanna (ptsd, nightmare mentioned), Katniss (ptsd) and Cressida (upcoming Games)

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

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Gale

It happens on the same day he realizes that he loves you

“(f/n)?” You stop in your tracks to look at him

“Let's stay a little longer and go to our favorite place”, he suggests

After a moment of hesitation due to Katniss, you agree

You both sit down at a brook with several small waterfalls and listen to the flowing water

A content and peaceful smile is plastered on your faces

“No matter how often I see it, it's still so beautiful”, you think aloud watching the clear water move through the rocks

“Indeed”, he agrees, though his eyes are fixed on you

When you turn around to look at him, your eyes meet

You stare at each other for far too long before slowly leaning in and closing the gap

The kiss is soft and gentle, yet full of love

You part with a happy smile

You simultaneously say each others name and start laughing

“I love you.”

Finnick

After his Games Finnick does not show up at school anymore

Worried, you visit him at victor's village

He is sitting at the beach and staring blankly at the sea

“Finnick?”, you ask softly, a safe distance between the two of you in case you would startle him

He turns around, a pained smile capturing his face

You sit down beside him, waiting for him to make the first move

As he does not, you take the initiative

“I'm glad you are back”, you whisper

He takes his eyes off the sea to look at you

Tears are streaming down his face

“I'm a monster”, he cries

You shake your head. “No. You are a survivor and the most amazing person I know.”

He stares at you, searching for a hint that you are lying

But your words are completely sincere

Without another thought he leans in to kiss you

At first you are surprised, but it does not take you long to kiss him back

When you part and look at each others eyes, you promise: “Let's get through this together. I won't let you down.”

Then you hug his arm, rest your head on his shoulder and look at the sea together

Haymitch

Despite his regret when you had entered the arena, Haymitch cannot bring himself to confess his feelings to you after your 'victory'

When he tries congratulating you, you avert his eyes and it makes him angry

So angry that he excuses himself to go away before he would yell at you again

Actually he is not angry at you, not at all

He is angry with himself and that you had to suffer through the Hunger Games

The relationship between you two stays distant during your time at the Capitol

Back in district 12 he notices that you do not leave your house and checks up on you

He notices that no one else is there

“(f/n)?”, he calls out your name, not getting a response

He searches the whole house for you before finding you hidden under the blanket inside your bed

He calls out your name again and carefully takes the blanket from your head to see if you are awake

That startles you

With a scream you try attacking him, but out of reflex he catches your wrists

You struggle against his grip, full of adrenaline

After a while you recognize him and stop resisting

“Haymitch? What are you doing here?”, you question suspiciously

That makes him let you go

“Where are you parents?”, he asks instead of answering

“None of your business. Why should you care anyway? You can't stand me. Don't feel obliged to check on me or anything”, you mumble

He sighs

“You got it wrong. It's not like I can't stand you.”

“Then why are you treating me like a failure? You always yelled and snapped at me. And after the Games you were even angry at me and left me alone”, you nearly choke on your words

He debates with himself what to do

His first instinct is to run away again, but this time he wants to make up for his shitty behavior

As your mentor he should have helped and supported you, but instead he has made you feel even more miserable

“I'm sorry. For treating you so shitty. You don't deserve that.”

Your teary eyes meet his

Before he knows what he is doing, he kisses you

You look at him confused

“I was angry because I couldn't help you. I couldn't stand seeing your pain”, he admits

You walk into his arms and let him hug you, giving him a second chance

At least for now it just feels right

Peeta

“Happy Birthday”, Peeta greets you during lunch break, a huge smile plastered on his face

You smile back at him. “You remembered?”

“Of course! How could I forget? And I even have a present for you.”

He takes out a slice of cake, decorated in your favorite color, with the image of your favorite flower

You look at it in awe

You have bought several of Peeta's cakes for the mayor during the past years, but you have never gotten the chance to try one yourself

“Woah, Peeta! It's beautiful! But isn't it too expensive?”

“Don't worry about it”, he reassures you.

“Then let's at least share it.”

The cake tastes delicious

You notice that Peeta eats slowly on purpose to make sure you would get more of the cake

Soon the cake has vanished

You stand up to hug him

Out of the joy of the moment you kiss him, surprised when he kisses you back

Nevertheless you let yourself fall into the kiss

When you part he smiles at you

“Your smile is worth more than any cake could cost.”

Johanna

In district 13 you wake her up from a nightmare

You have never seen her so vulnerable before

You stare at each other, frozen in place

The gap between you seems to close on its own

Considering Johanna's personality, the kiss is very gentle and soft

You start crying, taking both of you completely off guard

On the inside Johanna freaks out thinking she has made a mistake

She mumbles an apology and moves to get away from you, but instead you pull her into a hug

“No, Johanna, sorry. I'm really happy”, you whisper holding her tightly

Katniss

You help her trough her hard time with Peeta after his captivity at the Capitol

You can relate to her guilt as you feel the same way with Rue; though being her mentor and sister you have not been able to save her

At the same time you hide your own suffering to support Katniss properly

You are still suffering from Rue's death, from both your Hunger Games and your captivity at the Capitol

You try to ignore the pain and anxiety you feel all the time and that works best when you are with Katniss

But at one point she catches you off guard inside your hospital room crying

She stands in the door frame, frozen in place

After she got a hold of herself, she approaches you carefully: “(f/n)?”

You flinch, quickly wipe your tears away and put on a smile. “Oh, Katniss. I didn't notice you.”

“Drop the act”, she requests softly

Your smile falters

She pulls you into a hug and you start sobbing

After you calmed down again, your eyes meet

Without another thought Katniss kisses you, surprising you once again

You are utterly confused when she pulls back. “What is that supposed to mean? What about Peeta?”

“I don't know. Honestly I never loved him like that to begin with and that hasn't changed. He's important to me, but I want to be with you.”

Cressida

You two have developed a code allowing you to talk freely on the phone; different meaning behind your words

After the announcement of the Quarter Quell she tells you over the phone to meet her at a special place in district 9

You two meet up and she tells you that she is on her way to district 13 to support the rebellion and that she wants you to accompany her

She tells you about Plutarch Heavensbee and the underground organization at the Capitol

But you being an idealist finally see the chance to succeed with the revolution and decide to participate in the Quarter Quell to protect Katniss; you also want to be with your best friend Johanna as you know that she is the only female victor in district 7

Cressida tries to persuade you to join her, but she cannot change your mind

“I can't leave you behind”, she exclaims desperately

You smile sadly at her. “Let's change Panem together, Sida.”

Her desperate expression turns into a defeated one

Her eyes wander to the ground for a moment before she quickly closes the gap between you to kiss you

You are surprised, but smile into the kiss before deepening it

After the kiss your eyes meet and no words have to be exchanged

“Make sure to survive until Plutarch gets you out. I won't forgive you if you don't join me in 13”, she declares

“Therefore you have to make it to 13 first. I will draw you a map to show you the best way through 9 and place it here. Stay safe and use your incredible skills for the rebellion.”

#the hunger games #boyfriend scenarios #girlfriend scenarios #gale hawthorne x fem reader #finnick odair x fem reader #haymitch abernathy x fem reader #peeta mellark x fem reader #johanna mason x fem reader #katniss everdeen x fem reader #cressida x fem reader #lgbtqia + #angst #romance #fluff

[mugunghwc]

@badheart said: Honestly Futaba looked shocked at the news and one could see her eyes going down towards Rei's belly, before back to the empty room. Just a little bit, she cursed herself for asking, as it felt like a harsh reminder for own failures to achieve her biggest dream since years, so it was a rather sensitive topic for her, and knowing who the father was, she held rather mixed feelings, as it seemed to seal their bond even more. "So... so he is fine with it?" she had to ask after a short moment, some concern showing over her features. Seeing the room, certainly told her the answer but it was still difficult to imagine that this man could ever love a child and even less properly take care of it and Rei. Some tears left her, which she quickly wiped away, as it was not about her now, she knew. But it still hurt a little, unable not to feel a tiny bit envious. "I'm very happy for you," she voiced and smiled. "A child is a beautiful gift, something every woman should aspire for," she mumbled and calmed down a little, no more looking so strained. "Do you already know if it's a boy or a girl? ... any names?" She had to ask, while holding back any more questions. With a pregnancy sure came a lot and even more after it.

Wryly, Rei smiled at her despite knowing that the news brought further conflict within her friend, who still struggled to accept her relationship with a yakuza. Not that she would ever blame her for it due to the concerns that came along. Even if she was no longer in the police force, Rei couldn't ask her to shut down her morals, despite the inconsistency that existed in them—choosing to ignore them whenever it benefitted her. She couldn't blame her for that either given her field. In the end, it wasn't acceptance that she was seeking, but respect over the choices that she had made. So far, Futaba had showed nothing but support, even if disdain for Jiro was evident upon her features. That's the least Rei could ask for ; staring back at the empty room and sighing. "It was... actually him who brought it up." Something that may come up as a surprise to Futaba. It certainly had caught Rei off-guard, never expecting it from him. "Wanting a baby, I mean. That... makes me sound as if I was coerced into this, but that's not the case. I'm just... a little scared." She admitted. Her words carrying some guilt over even insinuating that. The corner of her lips turned upwards, smiling gently at the memory of his reaction. "He was so happy when I told him... ecstatic. I wish I could be, as well." Experience that joy without any negative emotions lingering in the back of her head. Her hand was absent-mindedly placed over her flat stomach, curling her fingers to grasp on the fabric of her clothes. "I guess... I never fully got over how my parents' marriage ended up like... even though I know Jiro isn't anything like my father." She could feel just how much love he had for their unborn child already. It touched her.

Without realising, some tears had begun to spill, to which she wiped off with the back of her mind prior from taking a deep breath. "We don't know yet. It's only been a month since I found out." And yet, none of her other friends knew about it. That might've been the case for Ryo as well, as Jiro hadn't mentioned anything yet. As if sensing her inner turmoil, Sashimi meowed and rubbed her head against Rei's cheek—a gesture that made her smile again. "She's been especially affectionate with me since I found out." Rei commented while holding onto her to bring the cat closer to her chest. An arm wrapped around her. "Same with him. Their love has helped me feel less scared... or alone."

#badheart #.ic / way too many people tryna take the crown #.ask / never have any regrets after the game #verse 01. theory of beauty / main

[charbax]

Here Comes a Thought (Battleborn Fic)

Here Comes a Thought (1536 words) by charbax Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Battleborn (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alani & Toby (Battleborn) Characters: Alani (Battleborn), Toby (Battleborn) Additional Tags: Meditation Sessions, Spoilers, for the character backstories, anxiety mention, unsanitary mention, please read fic notes for context its not anything like. body fluids tbh., death mention, accident mention, body trauma mention, Songfic, ...is it? Summary:

A meditation session between two beings with anxiety. Alani & Toby friendship fic inspired by tenta--prince's pic, inspired by an anon. https://charmemes.tumblr.com/post/175946413712/thanks-to-whoever-sent-me-this-not-my-best-but

Fic underneath readmore, otherwise AO3 link here!

Outside of the rogues, Toby rarely trusted people. 

Ok, Ernest was an outlier, but only because he was actually really nice and was supportive of Toby, in that hard, commander way (ie. zealous use of 'Maggot!' and shouting). Honestly, it was helping Toby's self confidence make leaps and bounds ever since he signed up with the Battleborn, even if it threw him off sometimes. 

But the commando bird was on a mission to Bliss, recapturing an old UPR base, and his own flock - group, he reminded himself, the Rogues were definitely not aviants, even if sometimes they felt closer than his own biological family - were on Fortune's Favour, not onboard Nova. With this kind of thing, they would be the first he'd go waddling to, but alas, there was only him and a scattering of others preseny. And while they were on varying scales of niceness (Bene-jerk notwithstanding), the thought of approaching them with this problem made him want to keel over and die instead. 

Hence, he opted to wandering around the hulls of the ship like a feathery spectre, checking for faults, because faults could lead to holes, and holes could lead to failures, and failures could lead to systems malfunctioning, and systems malfunctioning could lead to Nova spiralling out of control and crash-landing onto one of the few planets left in the system, resulting in the fiery death of everyone onboard…

Even anxiety can ruin the easiest of tasks. Toby cursed. There also seemed to be a correlation between his stress levels and swearing, if the string of worries and extremities leaving his beak were anything to go by.

In fact, he was concentrating so hard on calming himself down that he didn't notice that he had barged into someone's space until he heard polite coughing from above, then a voice said, "Uh...you ok there?" 

His beak clamped embarrassingly fast as he finally took in his surroundings. He must've stumbled into the water reservoir, judging by the water tank. The large room was windowless and dark, lit only by the blue glow of the tank in the lower half. Perched on top of a floating platform was one of the newer members of their motley crew, who was blinking down at him. It took another second of panicking to remember her name; Alani, the monk from Akopos. Outside of name and general calm nature, that's all he knew about her. After all, he's only responsible for checking the background of potential rogues, not the rest of the battleborn. That’s Ghalt’s job.

"It’s-it's nothing, miss Alani, sorry to disturb you, it won't happen again, sorry." He stuttered out, the word running together into one, conjugated disaster.

He was already backing out of the room before Alani replied, "It's ok! It's just a bit weird how you just walked in here. Without knocking." 

"Sorry again." 

"Wait! I mean," she sighed. "I meant like how preoccupied you were. Unless you normally barge it to people's rooms un-announced?" She unhelpfully added. 

Toby made a noise of embarrassment, “Yeah, I don’t normally don’t do that. I was, uh, busy thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing really. Just me being my dumb self and worrying about nothing, so sorry to bother you again, miss Alani!”

Alani was silent for a moment, from contemplation or awkward shock (Toby's money was on the latter), then she said "Want to sit with me?"

He blinked. She patted the space next to her with emphasis, the movement setting the platform bobbing gently on the water's surface. Would it...be ok? He could always just say no...and end up disappointing her more than he already did right now. With that in mind, he took a deep, fortifying breath, and scurried up the ladder on the side of the tank. It was easy paddling across the short distance to the platform, with him sparing only a moment to voice a concern. 

"Uh, this is the ships water, right?"

"Yup." She confirmed. 

"...won't we end up drinking this?" 

"Yup.” She repeated. “Don't worry though, my nanobots- I mean, cleansing energy,  gets rid of pollutants. They work a lot better than any water filter." 

"But won't we be drinking them too?" 

"Yeah, they’re probably inside your body already."

Toby had nothing to say to that apart from a quick face of revulsion. He didn't say anything else however as he pulled himself to Alani's metal island and gingerly planted herself next to her. "Okay, I'm here. Now what miss?" 

"Meditate with me? Just copy what I do." And she closed her eyes, folding her hands pose-perfect onto her crossed legs. Aviant limbs weren't exactly great for crossing legs and twildling thumbs, so Toby let his flippers flop onto his outstretched legs, one on top of the other. 

"Like this?" He asked. She nodded, then her shoulders rose and fell in a controlled breath. Like a bad habit, Toby's mind leapt to the worst conclusion of even the ever patient monk losing patience, and he already prepared to leap from the platform and make a second attempt to an ungraceful exit. He was stopped by Alani’s sheepish smile. 

"Oops, sorry. I meant breathe slowly." She looked as sheepish as she could with one eye still closed. With a silent breath of relief, Toby inhaled and exhaled. Then repeated. And repeated. 

She stayed silent, letting the only sound be the echo of dripping water. Toby was aching to fill the quiet with something, anything, extending but not limited to the non-existent weather on the ship, but miss Alani didn’t look like she wanted to be disturbed, so he sucked it up and tried to meditate as she said. His thoughts, as always, started swirling again, like a shard storm that decided that it wasn't done wrecking havoc on a science dwarf's laboratory just yet. Before long, he was squirming in his spot, struggling to remain still like the monk next to him. He was frustrated too. Frustration at himself, at the meditation, even the tiniest bit at Alani for not seemingly solving his problem. That last one he shoved back down even if one small, dark bit really wanted to let it fester and grow. And that wherein was the problem - he was bad at recognising what was his fault and what was the fault of others, so it was easier to lump everything together and blame himself even for the smallest of things, because, in the end, it meant he could fix it, and he wouldn't be kicked out again for not fixing it. It meant that he was still wanted by those around him, because what was he without others needing him-?

That’s when he heard of the sound of water churning instead. "Please don't freak out." Was her only warning. The water rose above them in a dome, smoothing over and clearing like glass. Despite the way it enclosed over him, Toby felt anything but anxious. Rather, it seemed that the room, heck, even the entire ship, had faded away, leaving them in a small bubble of just him and Alani. Like every problem, every worry, was washed away, if for the moment, to be displayed for his perusal. 

"I thought it might help if you keep thinking of your worries being outside of the bubble.” Alani said. 

The words burst out of Toby’s mouth before he could stop them. “But they still get to me.”

“Yeah, and that sucks. Things get to me too.” Alani admitted. “But I think, hey, I got my bubble. They’re just...thoughts in here. Like butterflies, I guess. Man I miss butterflies.

“Ugh, I’m getting distracted. I got my bubble! You got a bubble too. I don’t think you can actually conjure one out of water, unless avians can and I just didn’t get the memo. But you got one. And when the worries come fluttering back, bring it up, mentally. You are here. You're here. You're going to be ok.”

And the weird thing was that Toby actually...started to believe her. He can’t will away the anxieties, otherwise this would be the perfect universe, but it’s a lot easier to look at them from this side of the bubble. Through the watery lens, he could imagine what would happen if his Berg malfunctioned in the middle of battle and not stop the shot that might take Whiskey's life. Or if a mine detonated at the wrong moment, catching Shayne and Aurox in the midst of their blood run. Not only failing the Rogues, but the entire Battleborn. They were terrible, horrible images, but with the blue tint on, his mind already picked out some solutions – increase the frequency of the maintenance rounds. Train with Shayne and Aurox more to get a feel for their behaviour on the field.

Trust them, instead of bottling it up and letting the hurricane carry him away. Of course, that's easier said than done.

"Miss Alani?" He ventured quietly. "Can I...come back whenever it gets bad?"

"Sure! Just knock first."

Yeah. He can do that. "Thanks. For helping a little."

Alani just smiled gently, and closed her eyes again. He followed suit and let himself be.

'I'm here, I'm here, I'm here.'

#battleborn #battlebarn #alani ( battleborn ) #toby ( battleborn ) #charfic

[transgender-catboy]

My hyperfixation on the hobbit series in middle school is now 100% valid because the wizard dude is gay and I only like media with gay people

The spn phase was. Questionable.

#also the behind the scenes books were fucking cool #didn't appreciate being called a hobbit tho #im actually taller than them so that was just wrong :/ #middle school me was creepypasta spn hobbit mlp and steven universe OBSESSED #like top faves from that time #*sigh* #also fnaf and sonic of course #i was such a stereotypical middle schooler #<.< >.> #i used to wear cosplay to school #........ #thats all im gonna say on that #its genuinely embarrassing but i do look back on that part of me fondly #i was so open and loud about what i loved #i miss that #now im too scared to mention things i like even tho now they aren't as well cringey #i think that might be because of my shitty relationship with my mother before her #decision #she really did set me up for failure :/ #damn alright these tags are long enough #vent

[saintobio]

sincerely not. (16)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. explicit smut (includes; pregnant sex, daddy n mommy kink, marking, voyeurism, slight humiliation), mentions of miscarriage, manipulation, mentions of sexual harassment, violence

notes. 14.1k wc. this was supposed to be longer but i had to cut the scene and just write it onto the next chapter. thanks sm for the beta @exorphic n @kazbrkker <33

series masterlist -> episode seventeen

Sera didn’t expect that she would dig herself a deep hole that went farther than the Earth’s layers just because of an error of judgement—a miscalculation. Now the consequences of her actions were met with scorching fury that exceeded the core’s hot surface. The ironic part of all this was the fact that what awoke her into reality was a nightmare in the name of Satoru Gojou. Ten months ago, the man showered her with saccharine promises of a blissful, comfortable life and a marriage of genuine love. Life was easier back then; she owned every inch of his heart and they were real lovers despite the stark difference in their social status. It was them against the world, them against the universe and all its vastness.

So, why has he changed his mind now? How come the woman he hated being married to was now taking Sera’s place as the rightful recipient of his heart? Surely, her fault in this situation was her failure to accept his words when he first decided to let go of her. Or when he admitted that it had always been you all this time. Sera’s pride was her hamartia and it made her an antagonist in a story where she was meant to be the protagonist.

This wasn’t her justifying the actual horrors of her actions, but the Sera that willingly put a pregnant woman in danger was a person driven by anger, jealousy, and spite. Her bitterness permeated her veins, flowed through her blood, and blazed her vexed mind. She wanted to inflict pain towards the people that betrayed her heart, but in return, she ended up having the repercussions bite her back.

If she had chosen not to give you that damned tea, stayed in her lane, and became the better person, maybe she wouldn’t have had a taste of karma splashing on her face like ice, cold water. Maybe she would have kept her decent-paying job and lived a quiet life, except she would have to suck it in and be tortured by the joyful face of her ex-lover who unabashedly anticipated his first child with his wife (not to mention he previously expressed disgust at the thought of having Sera’s). They said that the tables would turn, but how come she was always on the unfortunate side of it?

Being escorted out of the company she has worked for two years was not the humiliating part, it was the realization that there was no longer any ounce of affection left from Satoru that she hoped he still had.

But see it this way: Eula was the gas that fueled Sera's fire. Yes, that’s right. On the night when the revelation about your pregnancy infested the media, Sera was back in her room wrecking her things and screaming her deafening frustrations into the world. That same night, she had no choice but to call the woman she looked up to and ask her for advice.

“That woman… She has his child,” Sera sobbed through the phone at the time. “I-I thought she’s infertile. Why did—she can’t have a family with Satoru! Miss Eula, what do I do? I don’t want her to have him forever!”

She received an audible sigh of exasperation from the other line. “Goodness! Isn’t that frustrating? That wretched baby’s causing me stress! My husband’s even happy about it, too.”

“What do we do?” Desperate and hopeless was how Sera saw herself to be. “I want Satoru back… I want him… I c-can’t lose him like this, Miss Eula!”

“Get a hold of yourself!” the woman hissed at her. “Jesus Christ. Do something about it if you're that upset. I have no doubt he’s gonna parade her in his office soon.”

Sera sniffed and wiped her tear-stained cheek. “Do I confront her?”

Eula exhaled, clearly upset at the younger woman’s cluelessness. “Use your head! You can’t confront the legal wife in her husband’s office. Play the game and be smart. Act civil around her, give her your best wishes, and do your usual job in the office. Better yet, offer her snacks and some tea. Fool her with your kindness and silently stab her in the back.”

By this time, Sera already knew where this was going and she wasn’t sure if she could proceed. “I’ll p-poison the tea?” she clarified because that bit wasn’t clear. “I can’t… I hate her, but not that way.”

“She’s not gonna die because of a stupid tea. Just give her chamomile!” Eula’s irritation was rising from her throat. “You want revenge? Then just do what I say. He’s only in it because she has his heir, so don’t give him the privilege to have that abominable child with her. Learn from me!”

Clearly, that should have been the last thing that Sera did even in her most vulnerable state. Despite researching about the effects that the said tea could have on a pregnant woman, she trusted Miss Eula’s plans because she was a good example of a woman who had started from the bottom and earned her way to the top. Sera wanted to be just like her and so all morality was lost when she temporarily allowed her greed to course through her.

She shouldn’t have.

Yet, she was a grown woman who could make her own choices in life and the unfortunate (and clearly motivated) path that she took was to claim revenge on a pregnant woman and her husband. The difference between Sera and Eula was how the latter could have executed her plan a heck ton better than the former had and there would be no trace of guilt that could haunt the older woman. That was how she should play the game. Be cruel, be cunning, be unapologetic.

Sera, although hard to believe, was burdened by her guilt and devastation leaving her with no choice but to run back home in a tearful state. The void she created in her chest was growing larger with each step she took upon entering her home. It was hard to believe how a simple action that she did for a few seconds had resulted into a lifetime punishment of losing a job, a lover, and her dignity. This was the comeuppance that she should have seen like an asteroid coming down to destroy her whole life.

In the end, the love that she had for Satoru had dissipated into anger. And that anger had evolved into spite.

“Nee-chan, what’s wrong?” She heard her brother ask in worry as soon as she stepped inside the house with pale lips and obvious puffy eyes behind her smudged mascara. Her gait was also too languid not to notice.

“Sera, are you okay?” The follow up question was from her mom.

“Don’t cry, nee-chan!” As she fell on her knees and succumbed to her lassitude, it was her younger sister who embraced her in her arms and shared her woes.

Family. All she had left was her family.

She didn’t expect that Nari’s frail arms would give her the most comfort at a time like this. “It’s over,” Sera ended up blurting out loud as she wiped her eyes. “I lost my job and the boss that I was dating is a married man! I was his mistress.”

There was no violent reaction to her revelation. Her family only looked at her with sympathy before scooping her in their arms to provide her cold heart with warmth. Why are they not disgusted with me? Sera didn’t really want to label herself as a mistress since she was the first girlfriend before Satoru was arranged to you, but then she remembered the words you said back in Bora Bora.

“In everyone’s eyes, no one cares about who’s the first love. People care about who’s the one that they married.”

She had lost this game. She was the villain and she couldn’t accept it. She was supposed to be the main character in her fairytale, not you. Your marriage was supposed to be hollow and temporary. Satoru was supposed to end up with her.

“Sera, there are better men out there who can love you wholeheartedly,” her mother offered advice, one that Sera took with bitterness.

She was already scoffing at her mom when she pulled away from all three of them. “You’re one to talk, mom. The man you married can’t even provide for his family.”

Jiro took this chance to answer on behalf of his regretful mother. “Nee-chan, dad’s been sober for a month. He’s been looking for jobs just to repay you for—”

“A-About that…” Their mother’s shaky hands alarmed them. She was tearful and nervous, but Sera wondered why exactly she was acting that way. “The money we had left… Your dad used it to gamble. I-I had no idea he took the card and withdrew the money while I was asleep.”

Sera realized that it was better to get hit by a truck than to hear those sickening words from her mother’s mouth. That her revolting father had spent the last bit of money that they had to sustain their lifestyle all for a fucking game of poker. How about their rent? Their bills? Their everyday needs? She released her stress in the form of screams—so loud that it broke her vocal chords as she sobbed and threw the flower vase across the wall. She was thrashing like an unhinged person, destroying everything around her while she continuously wailed. Everything Sera had worked hard for was taken from her in a single day.

She didn’t deserve this. She deserved better than this.

“Sera—!”

“Onee-chan, wait—!”

No one should ever get in the way of an extremely angry woman because Sera was on the verge of self-destruction and her wrath led her to barge inside of her father’s bedroom, snatching his clothes off the closet, and throwing them straight out of the window. It didn’t stop there. She also started hurling his shoes and everything that he owned out of their house without much regret in doing so. In fact, it was cathartic for her because the last thing she wanted to see in her house was that curse of a father. His existence was an anathema to her.

“If any of you…” she warned, looking at her siblings and her mother with deathly fire burning in her brown eyes, “if any of you ever let that man inside this house again, don’t consider me family anymore.”

They didn’t chase after Sera when she walked out of the house and ran off without a specific direction. She just desperately wanted to leave because even the supposed comfort of her home was a heavy weight on her shoulders. There was no peace even around her own family and she was a minute close into falling apart. Where should she run off to now? Who would comfort a woman like her who just lost everything?

In truth, she had no one. She only had herself and the only person she could think of who had always been there to understand her sentiments was Naoya. A man not from the same status, but nonetheless cared for her well-being. He understood her better than anyone else and Sera was at a point where she could only run to him for comfort.

She didn’t even think twice about showing up at the Zen’in estate just to see him nor did she hesitate at enveloping the guy for an embrace the minute he met with her at the foyer because she needed him to soothe her aching heart. Initially, he had become frozen from her advances, but quickly softened up to stroke her hair.

“I-I did something terrible,” her voice was muffled as she buried her face in his chest.

But Naoya didn’t mind. “Wanna talk about it in my room?”

It had been a long, painful day. A day full of misery and retribution. Of tears and screams. She could tell that the universe had been waiting all along to let her pay for her sins and yet, it seemed like it was asking for more than what she deserved.

“Satoru kicked me out of the company,” she spoke again as soon as Naoya closed the door. His eyes assessed her body language while he leaned his back against the wall, arms crossed when he offered his two ears to listen to her. “I gave Y/N chamomile tea and I knew it was bad for her, but I saw red! I was… I was angry!”

Naoya put his arms down and became rigid. “Woah, you tried to harm her baby?”

Sera thought he understood her so well, so why was he acting as if he was looking at the most abhorrent creature he has ever seen? What happened to their connection where he always saw things in her perspective without prior judgment? Before she knew it, she was already approaching him closer in a manner to clear her name. “Wait, Naoya. Listen, I just followed Miss Eula’s advice. Sh-She told me to give Y/N—”

The blond man closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ll tell you something.”

And just like that, the mood has completely shifted. The disgust in Naoya’s eyes was no longer for Sera, but for the older woman whose name had just left her mouth.

“Eula,” Naoya began, taking slow yet measured footsteps as he circled Sera. “You know I treat her like a mom, right? I respect her. She wasn’t born with inherited wealth, but she worked her way to the top.”

Sera was nodding her head as she listened to every word that left his mouth. Her heart rate was slow and calm because there was nothing more relaxing than hearing Naoya’s voice.

And so he continued, “At first, I followed her around for advice because she’s smart and her mindset can help me strategize in business. But then… she was becoming obsessive towards me. Don’t you think that’s weird? I’m way younger than her! She took advantage of my kindness and tried to force herself on me. It’s really disgusting.”

Wow. Sera was speechless. She never thought that Miss Eula would go as far as preying on a man who was so much younger than her. How could she do such a thing? “I-I had no idea she was doing that to you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to her.”

“She’s crazy,” Naoya stated, closing the distance between them by cupping her damp cheek. “You know what’s crazier?”

Sera kept her eyes on his.

“She’s jealous of you.” As the truth left Naoya’s mouth, something just clicked in Sera’s mind but the man took it by himself to voice out her thoughts. “She clearly wanted to ruin you when she told you to do those things. She knew you’d lose her job. She knew Satoru would hate you more. She knew you would be humiliated in front of his wife. She manipulated you because you were vulnerable.”

This… All of this! How could Sera not have seen it? Horror painted her face in realization because everything was now making sense except for one thing. “B-But why is she jealous of me?”

The corner of Naoya’s lips upturned. Along his smirk, he was brushing Sera’s lower lip with his thumb and gazing at her face with a gleam of adoration. “Why not? You’re young, you’re gorgeous, and you’re one of the kindest girls I’ve met. You’re also hard-working and genuine. You’d be so much more capable and powerful than she is now. Do you really think she’ll allow you to become a Gojou when you’d be a threat to her in the future?”

At that point, the tip of Naoya’s nose was pressed against hers. His minty breath brought heat to her cheek, intoxicating her with the affection that she has long yearned for.

“You’re the only one who truly understands me,” her voice broke when she said those words, and she was shamelessly gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. “You’re the only one who cares about me.”

Naoya raked his finger through her long brown tresses. “World’s cruel, isn’t it?”

It was such a shame how Sera had spent the past few months being hellbent on keeping Satoru by her side and convincing herself that he was the only man she could ever end up with. Why did she even believe such a thing? Naoya was here and he was a far better partner than Satoru could ever be. He listened to her, he appreciated her, he adored her… Sera should have just fallen in love with him instead of wasting all of her time on a man who was so easy to disregard her.

With all that in mind, her emotions drove her to press her lips on top of Naoya’s soft ones. She was kissing him without shame, kissing him with ardor, with gratitude. They were exploring each other’s mouths, engulfing the sweet taste of their tongue rolling against one another. She was unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his pants, pleasing him with all that she can because the feeling of being intimate with this man gave her the distraction that she needed. Naoya had become the antidote from the poison that nearly killed her heart and she was submitting herself to him with the belief that she should have been doing all this with him long before she allowed her life to be ruined by an ex-boyfriend who betrayed her love. Perhaps Naoya was her salvation. But with the way he pinned her against the wall and roughly sucked on the soft spot on her neck, his actions made her realize that he could be another form of damnation, too. He was heaven and hell. A sinner and a saint.

“N-Naoya.” First, his name escaped her lips with a soft, wanton moan.

The next, she was on her knees being pounded on by the man who glorified her body with praises she had never heard from her ex-boyfriend before. He fucked her like there was no tomorrow and paid no mercy at destroying her with the fast movements of his hips. While his nails left crescent marks on her flesh, it was added by the burning stretch on her scalp when he pulled her hair and met her buttocks with hard thrusts.

It was only then until Sera realized that the only way to be free from Satoru was to show him that someone of the same status could accept her for who she was.

About twenty-three miles away from the Zen’in estate, Satoru Gojou was in his penthouse delighting on the rollercoaster ride of having a pregnant wife and he would start it off by saying that he doesn’t ever want to get off this ride.

But before he would go to the good parts, there was something that had temporarily halted your domestic romance. The topic about Sera was still fresh and rumors in the office were varying for the most part because not everyone had directly heard his encounter with the ex-lover who tried to harm his child except for the security guards and the other two receptionists. Satoru was a volcano that exploded in front of Sera and he was spouting words like basaltic magma without paying attention to his surroundings because he was far too driven by the magnitude of his emotions. To think of it, how else would anyone expect a father and husband to react when someone tried to deliberately cause his wife’s miscarriage? He wasn’t overreacting. Protective maybe, but also reasonable without a doubt. A cup of chamomile tea would not instantly kill his child—it was the intention behind harming an innocent baby that made Satoru seethe in anger the most. Because if he had been lenient to Sera, what more unforgivable things could she have done in the future?

He gave Sera the benefit of the doubt for so long because he was the reason she was becoming a monster in the first place. He let her hit him, curse at him, and be all kinds of nasty to him in exchange for keeping his wife away from her rage. But that vile act she committed in the office? It was the last fucking straw.

Though, now that his volcano had exploded, he was back to his quiescence.

“I can’t believe she did that,” he voiced out his thoughts. In a bathtub at nine in the evening was where he lay still with a wife whose back was pressed against his toned chest. He had his arms around you, lips on your temple while his fingers were tracing your curve underwater. The fluff of white bubbles hugged your figure as you leaned back on his bare front and snuggled on his neck. “I was so angry. I felt like I was gonna be violent for once.”

The water reached up to his wife’s breasts, covering the slope of your flesh with suds. Even though the thought of Sera was still clouding his mind like an oncoming thunderstorm, your presence was what kept his mind calm.

“Don’t do that,” you reminded. “No matter how angry you are, violence isn’t the way to go.” You then pulled both of his hands and placed his palms directly on your tummy so he could feel your growing bump. The aroma of vanilla that came from the scented candles seemed to have made you drowsy and the cozy position you were in made things even more intimate.

Satoru wouldn’t even deny it. He loved bathing with you. He loved hot showers in the morning just as he loved your lazy bathtub sessions at night because it was considered quality time between a husband and wife. His heart had never felt this much bliss until he began sharing this domestic set-up with you and there was nothing in this world that could make him exchange all these little moments for anything else.

So instead of paying attention to the ex-girlfriend who nearly put his wife in danger, he decided that it was best to pamper you with love and affection. Sera had no place in his heart and mind now. Surely, you two still had plenty of time to talk about her uncalled for actions some other day when you weren’t prone to angina attacks because of extreme stress.

“Let’s not talk about her.” For your sake and his.

You looked up and offered a smile. “Okay. Why don’t we just talk about you, Mr. Gojou?” You pulled yourself up and had your husband holding your hand for support until you were able to straddle his lap. He must admit that it was a little stimulating how your knees brushed on his member as you moved. Or how big your breasts had gotten now that he had a full frontal view of them. “—up? Are you listening?”

Fuck. No, he absolutely wasn’t. In fact, he was only pretending when he cleared his throat and let his calloused fingers find your waist. “What were you saying?”

You may have rolled your eyes, but you still let your palms roam around his shoulders and in return made him chuckle. “I said, how do you think we should celebrate your birthday since it’s coming up?”

Satoru wouldn’t even have remembered his own birthday until you reminded him about it. All his mind could focus on was one question: who is this goddess of a wife? You must have come from another planet because there was no way a person could look as beautiful as you. Just everything—your eyes, your lips, your neck, your collarbones, your round tits, your delicious curves, your growing bump, your plump folds that were grinding against his thigh… Hold on, grinding?

He took a deep breath to keep himself together and held your hips as he forced his mind to think straight. Yes, your underwater mischief was certainly not an imagination. It seemed that you were indeed discreetly grinding your sweet pussy against his left thigh while placing a hand on his chest with doe eyes that feigned innocence.

“It’s just that…” Your chest rose up and down as you continued to undulate your hips by using his thigh to pleasure you. “You know, Ieiri called me this morning asking about my health and all, then she asked me if we had plans for your birthday since she didn’t want me to exhaust myself.”

Fine, Satoru would have to say that he was a loser at playing the no-touch game. He just couldn’t help his hands from traveling up to your chest, squeezing your breasts together before latching his mouth onto one nipple. He could hear your soft breathing when his tongue played with your bud—nipping, suckling, kissing. “Whatever you want, baby,” his voice was an octave deeper when he spoke before moving his mouth to your other bosom to give it the same attention as he did with your left one. “As long as I get to spend it with you. I don’t want you to tire yourself out just to celebrate it.”

You arched your back and gripped a fistful of white hair from the back of his head, clearly pleased by the skillful tongue that made your nipples a lot more perkier than before. “Mm.. Okay. How about a y-yacht cruise? With your best friends.”

By the time his mouth wandered off to your collarbones to leave hickeys everywhere, he could feel your hand reaching for the head of his now-throbbing cock that had become rock hard underwater. “Good idea,” he answered, marking your body while you began stroking his length. You tightened your hand around his thick girth, sliding your fist with ease because the water provided the lubrication that you needed. Satoru was already satisfied to fuck your pretty hand because he couldn’t risk rutting into you until you were out of breath. “Fuck, baby. Do you think we should—?”

“I can take it.” Dammit. The determination in your voice aroused him more than he already was. Along with the desperation in your eyes and the moans that left your parted mouth, your handjob skills seemed to have improved even underwater. He recognized that haze in your eyes, one that reflected the image of an animal in heat. It was taking over you. “Satoru, I want you. I’m going crazy here.”

Best part of pregnancy hormones? A very horny mommy.

It even looked like you would cry if he didn’t give it to you tonight. Satoru felt like he hit the jackpot with this and the way you were blatantly expressing your sexual needs was turning him on tenfold. “You’re so hot.” So hot and all his. So pregnant with his baby, too. “You want me to do what? Give me the specifics, honey.”

“I want your cock.” Goddamn were you straight to the point! Your enclosed hand tightened around his shaft, pumping him in the same pace and rhythm to how you rubbed your needy pussy on his thigh. “I want it in my mouth. Please… daddy? Can I please suck you?”

That kink of yours. Or was it his? Technically, he was a DILF-in-training so calling him ‘daddy’ did make sense. Still, how you desperately begged to have him just sent his ego up the ceiling.

And now that he mentioned it, his cute, sexy wife was a MILF, too.

“Why are you laughing?” Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance, and the hand that was pumping his cock was now hitting his chest. “What’s so funny?”

Satoru grinned and shook his head, grabbing your nape and smashing his peachy lips onto yours. There was a vibration from the hum that you released before you enveloped your lips around his, opening up to let his tongue invade every corner of your mouth. While both of your hands found their way to do the job on his cock again, his own hand cupped your pussy to rub your folds and separate the labia using his two fingers. Your cunt was plump and wet—regardless of the fact that your body was half-submerged on the tub—and Satoru was going feral at the thought of how good it must feel to fuck a pregnant pussy. He tested your tightness by inserting one finger through your hole and your walls were already clenching at a single slender finger. How much more if his cock was seven inch deep inside of you?

“Shit, baby. I might destroy you,” he breathed through your mouth, gasping before you tilted your head to shove your own tongue as deep as you possibly could. It was clear that you didn’t care because you were humping on his palm when he resumed orchestrating circular motions on your clit. You bit his lower lip as you twitched from the sensory overload and was left with no choice but to press your palms against his toned pecs. “Like that?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Yes,” you were moaning without a pause, closing your eyes to shut down all other senses except for the one down there. Since when did you even cuss this much? It was sexy. So fucking sexy. Your breasts were glistening under the ambient light as you threw your head back to savor the feeling of your husband’s fingers on your slick entrance. Satoru was at a loss of words upon seeing the sex goddess that he had unknowingly summoned and he was even more excited at pleasing his better half until you were whimpering and pushing his hand away. “Satoru, w-wait.”

“Hm?” He kissed your lips and pulled away with a smooching sound. By then, the wife was gesticulating her pointer finger upwards and commanding him to get up. Oh. It was daddy’s time. “Wait, babe. I got suds on my dick.”

You were both chuckling while he stood up and reached for the shower head, turning it on and allowing the water pressure to remove all of the suds on his pelvis and his cock. He used the showerhead to clean your now soap-free hands before he returned it back to its place, repositioning himself in front of a kneeling wife who looked up at him with docility and had him releasing traces of precum on his swollen pink tip. Imagine the view: he was towering over you, a seven-inch cock right above your face until you wrapped your hand near the base and laid your tongue flat on the skin under his length. You licked him from one corner to another as if you were an amateur pornstar who had done it countless times before. “This,” you referred to his dick, “is mine.”

“All yours, baby.” And with a mischievous smile at that.

No, actually, he was losing his mind. His frenzy was knocking at his door, ready to come out and fuck his wife all throughout the night. But the thing was, he couldn’t. You weren’t physically capable to handle marathon sex anymore. Gone were the days where he would spend his weekends trying out all these different sex positions with you. How has the time flown so fast?

“You’re so big,” you spoke breathlessly, swirling your tongue around his head before you proceeded to suck the precum off the slit. Good girl. He guided your face by touching your cheek, watching how you sucked him like a lollipop until you buried his cock into your mouth inch by inch. Slowly, slowly… holy shit!

“B-Babe,” he held his breath, eyes finding the ceiling to release his guttural moans. “Fuck, yeah.”

You were gagging on his shaft as you tried to fit all of his length down your throat, drool escaping the corners of your mouth while your uvula was being penetrated by his hardened member. The walls of your mouth were warm and tight—sending him into an orbit of immense pleasure as you began sucking your husband’s cock with your seemingly improved blowjob skills. He didn’t realize that he was roughly pulling your hair until he looked down and saw you teasingly batting your eyelashes up at him with hollow cheeks that acted as a suction to his twitching cock.

Well, you didn’t stop there. While Satoru was busy running his fingers through his white hair and throwing his head back with each salacious suck you did, you were on your knees bringing your lips on the tip of his cock before opening your mouth wide enough to suck him all the way to the base. Damn, you were deepthroating. At this point, your eyes were tearing up, your chin was against his bollocks, your nose was pressed on pelvis—did you hate it? No. Your face showed just how much you absolutely loved every second of it.

“Baby... That’s deep.” He couldn’t restrain the moans that flew out of his mouth left and right.

But when you released his cock with a pop, you continued pumping him with your hand and gave him the sexiest order he had ever heard from you. “Fuck my mouth and shoot your cum down my throat. I want every drop of it.”

Wide, sapphire eyes stared at you in surprise. Was he really talking to Mrs. Y/N Gojou right now? Was this woman really his wife? Before he could answer his own questions, you were already gripping his wrist and encouraging him hold your head in preparation for the face-fucking that you eagerly requested. “Shit. Are you sure?”

He got his confirmation when you licked the outline of his veins with a subtle grin. So that settled it then—mommy wants daddy’s cock, and who was he to deprive you of it? Just as you wished, he let his member enter your mouth while he gripped your head and angled it in a position where he could see his bulge on your cheek appearing and disappearing. He couldn’t help but display a playful grin at how he penetrated your inner cheek before he finally adjusted his cock down your throat. You already had a head start so there was no point at stalling things further when he slammed himself inside of your mouth in between rough thrusts. Each jostle was a gag from you and a low grunt from him, allowing a series of cuss words to ricochet off the tiled walls of your bathroom.

“Mm—!”

Just look at his wife. You didn’t even close your eyes when he fucked your mouth the way he would to your cunt, and despite the intrusion in your uvula, you were learning how to stretch your mouth around his cock in order to allow his penetration to go deep. Both of your hands were latching onto his knees to keep your balance and he could see the shape of your beautiful tits from the view he had up above.

His birthday was still in two days, but this already felt like an early gift.

“Fuck. Baby, fuck. That’s it.”

“Mm—mm!”

As soon as there was a coil of pleasure building up in his lower abdomen, he instantly knew that the next few seconds would end up with him shooting his load down to your throat. There was a wave of pleasure that washed his entire body and it wasn’t because of the water that surrounded you two, but because of the amount of semen he had ejaculated into your mouth.

“You’re so good, mommy.” He showered you with praises before he pulled out and saw you swallowing his warm seed like an obedient girl.

But to think that he had successfully done his job, he was wrong. You got up and crashed your lips onto his, wrapping your arms around your husband’s neck and pressing your chest on his toned ones while you two tasted each other’s mouth. Upon pulling away to catch your breath, that babyish pout and those pleading eyes of yours were back. “My turn, please?”

Satoru tucked a few strands of wet hair behind your ear concurrent to how he kneaded your bum with his other free hand. “You want me to eat you out, hm?”

“No,” you tugged his wrists. “I want you to fuck me. Hard and fast like usual.”

He was going to faint here. What and how the hell could he ever satiate such a needy wife? He had just released a huge amount of cum, and now another round was requested of him—not that he minded, but… was it safe?

“Can’t do hard and fast, mommy. Not safe for little munchkin,” he said, earning his wife’s displeasure. “And what if you run out of breath? You might get an angina attack.”

“But I can take it!” you whined, stepping out of the tub to leave your husband like a kid who was denied of her favorite candy.

Gojou chased you out of the tub and followed your footsteps when you headed towards the bathroom’s vanity and dried yourself up with a towel. “Okay, how about this,” he bargained, looking at your reflection on the mirror as he stood behind you, “we’ll have sex, but I’ll do it nice and slow. You have to tell me the minute your chest feels tight so I know when to stop.”

“Okay.” You faced him again, brushing your thumb on his lower lip before you gave him a soft, open-mouthed kiss. “Let’s do it.”

The question was: should he take you from the back or on the front? Satoru would consider the pros and cons here because he didn’t want to risk your health just for the sake of having sex with you.

If he took you from the back…

Pros:

You get to look at the mirror and watch him rawdog you from behind

He gets to see your ass

Cons:

He can’t hit it deep

He can’t kiss you

He can’t stare at your breasts

He can’t go nice and slow in this position

Your legs might give up if you stand for too long

If you did missionary above the vanity…

Pros:

He can be gentler with his pace

He can kiss you

He can watch all of you

You can lay your back against the mirror and let him do all of the job

He can see his cock going deep in and out of your cunt (What a dirty mind, Satoru!)

Cons:

You can’t see your goddess self in the mirror

No, there weren’t many cons here

The winner was obvious and he decided by himself without asking you of what you wanted because he could already tell that you would choose being fucked like a slut with how horny you were. But nope, not a chance, baby. He had to be gentle with his fragile wife.

So without a word, he hooked his forearms under your legs and hoisted you up above the vanity. “Satoru?” you asked, allowing him to spread your legs apart and give him a better view of your dripping pussy. He craved you just like how you craved him. The only difference was how he could still control himself while you were getting needier by the second.

“Is your back comfortable? Want me to put a towel behind you?” As soon as you nodded, he snatched the thickest rolled towel that he could find from the cupboard and placed it behind your back to offer as a cushion. Soon after, he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before he started trailing kisses on your neck, collarbone, and breasts—oh, this beautiful, tender pair. He suckled on one nipple and onto the other, flicking his tongue on the nub before he pulled away and began fondling the rounded mass and jiggling them playfully. “You’re the sexiest.”

You giggled, hands pressed atop the cold marble surface of the vanity. “Even when my tummy’s getting round?”

“Even if you get thrice as big,” he agreed, glancing at your belly and noticing how firm and round it had become. My baby’s in there. What if the next Einstein was from his own sperm? He was chuckling to himself at the thought before he planted kisses all over your small bump, speaking to his kid as though it could hear him. “Mommy and I will make love, so just sleep in there, okay? It’s rated X over here.”

Now it was time to start working. After attaching his lips onto your stomach, he moved away only to let two fingers rub your slick pussy. He stretched your labia and ejected his spit to use it as an added lubricant for your soaking entrance. “S-Satoru.” That’s it, baby. Moan for daddy. He was smirking before he dived in and encased his mouth on your pussy lips, French kissing the most sensitive part of your body by lapping it up with the use of his tongue. Your taste was his rhapsody and your mewls were just as dulcet. If your voice had a flavor, it would be sweet. Mellifluous. And your pussy? Heaven. Better than any other man could have in their lifetime. “A-Aah, m-more!”

His tongue was rolling inside of your core, lavishing the taste of your slick-coated cunt before he moved his wet muscle to your outer labia. Because your hole was free again, he inserted two fingers deep into your entrance all while his tongue played with your clitoris and its hood. Satoru was pretty good at multitasking, wasn’t he? Your legs were already shaking and he hasn’t even used his cock yet. Speaking of which, that cock of his had grown back to its glory and was pulsating because of how eager he was to be inside of you.

But back to his wife. Yes, his gorgeous, angelic wife who had her back against the mirror and her legs spread apart for the father of her child. You took the chance to grab a handful of your husband’s white hair when he simultaneously spoiled you with oral sex with two fingers deep inside of you. “Satoru, I-I c-can’t hold it in,” you begged, voice as shaky as your legs. “P-Please, fuck me.”

“Patience, honey,” he playfully reprimanded, but still doing as told by detaching his mouth from ravaging your cunt and withdrawing his fingers that were now sticky with your juices. He showed you how he sucked your slick from his digits before he positioned himself with your legs wrapped around his waist. However, maybe it would be fun to see how even more vocal you would become if he stalled things a little. “On second thought, daddy wants to hear more.”

You looked at him, confused. “What are you—baby, please. Don’t make me wait.” Your eyes gleamed in arousal. “Please, all of your cock inside me. Now.”

“How’s your breathing?”

“Fine!”

“Your heart?”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about it, just…”

“How about your belly? Tight?”

“I said I’m okay!”

“You look like you’re about to cry. Can’t wait to have daddy’s cock?”

He knew what he was doing and he was a menace for it. You were already falling desperate to have him fill you up, but because he decided to have this little game, you went ahead and touched yourself as revenge. “Fuck you.”

The pearly whites of his teeth were visible as he grinned. “Oh, wife’s got a voyeurism kink, huh?” he teased, watching how you used your own fingers to make circular movements on your clit. He was getting hard just by seeing you touching yourself and he wanted to give you the same pleasurable view of your own. “In that case, I’ll join you.”

You were biting on your lip to prevent louder moans from coming out as you continued to play with yourself. He, on the other hand, was pumping his length because jerking off to a wife who was now fingering herself seemed like the naughtiest type of foreplay you two had ever done. “Satoru, please.”

“Yes, baby. Give me a minute.” He fucked his fist to the thought of you, grabbing your boob and squeezing it before he finally allowed his fat cock to meet your aching pussy. At first, he lubricated his shaft by grinding it between your folds, and with the assurance of being wet enough to enter your core, he sunk his swollen head in your moistened entrance and released a groan that came straight from his gut. “Ah—shit! You feel so tight.”

“Nngh!” You held onto the vanity and watched how your husband began moving inside of you. In ten seconds, half of his cock was in. In twenty, he was nearing the base. In a minute, his pelvis was finally pressed against your pubic region. “Satoru!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked because it was fucking good, but it might not be for you. “Tell me and I’ll adjust.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no. It’s good. Please move.”

He was a simple man. He listened to his wife and obeyed her words if he saw no harm. The funny thing was, this situation made it look like it was the first time that you two were being intimate when you have already done it more than the days a calendar could offer. How else would a cute munchkin get inside mommy’s womb if not for the amount of lovemaking that you did before?

As much as he missed rutting into you at an animalistic pace, he could only do slow but rhythmic thrusts. Nonetheless, every slam made your breasts bounce and your velvet walls were clenching around his girth as though you were milking him of his cum.

“Y-Yeah, j-just like that!” Your dulcet moans were orgasmic to his ears and he spoiled you with a kiss on the lips before he increased his speed. “A-Aah—!”

Your hands held onto the surface for support, eyes on the ceiling as you allowed your husband to fuck your body with continuous slams. He could see the marks he had left on your chest turning purple and anyone would see those marks if you ever decided to wear an outfit with a plunging neckline. You were the canvas to his art of love and your body was the painting that reflected his passion.

Even more, Satoru was blessed with the sight of his wife’s swollen cunt that was adjusting to every ridge of his cock as your body naturally reacted to your husband with familiarity. Blotches of white liquid were staining his length and more of it had come out when you creamed all over his cock without preparation.

“Fuck!”

“Satoru, I-I’m cumming.”

“Me, too.”

And neither of you two saw it coming. Your back was arching, toes curling, knees shaking as he continued to ram himself into you through your overstimulation. There was no sign of a racing heart nor an oxygen deprived lungs so he enjoyed the exploding feeling of his own orgasm that made him release thick ropes of cum straight to your cervix. The steady rhythm had fallen sloppy and your face had morphed into both pleasure and relief. Along with the convulsive sensation that filled you to the brim, you were finally sated and pleased with the exchange of sensual gratification that your ever-so-generous husband had just given you.

“I love you,” he didn’t forget to say, kissing your lips before he pulled out.

If anyone was wondering, his wife was here. Beautifully naked. Radiant from the post-sex glow. Limp and reasonably exhausted. And most of all, pregnant from the husband that loved her with every fiber of his being.

You could no longer enjoy your wifely duties ever since Satoru hired an army of maids into your penthouse. Although they gave you privacy when needed, the simple household chores such as cleaning the house, folding laundry, and even cooking could no longer be done by you. You were handled with utmost care and were not allowed to do strenuous activities that could lead your body to fatigue. Frankly, all of this made you miss being your husband’s actual housewife instead of the queen bee he had turned you into your 72nd-floor beehive.

The only time you were only able to do more effort than intended was when you were possessed by a sex goddess last night (to which you were so embarrassed for the next morning, to which your husband also teased you for until afternoon). Satoru only decided that it was better to shut his mouth when you started glaring at him, deeming it safer not to mess with a pregnant wife.

But overall, he couldn’t exactly decline you when you asked if he could join you in grocery shopping that day.

“We have chefs,” he reasoned at first, “and we have maids who can go through the grocery list.”

Your response to his argument was to say that it would make you happy if he could just let you do it. You wanted to do it. He, as a husband, should let you do it.

“You get so overprotective sometimes,” you said, clinging to his arm as he pushed the shopping cart into the fresh produce section. Ah, more fruits and vegetables. You should have expected that.

“You can’t blame me. I just want you and baby safe,” was his reply, stopping when you reached the section of apples ranging from granny smith’s to fuji’s. He checked each apple with careful eyes as though he was thinking of which between the two similar fruits was better for you. Did he study a list of food that was good for pregnant women? His mom must have provided him with all the information he needed.

Satoru deserved a kiss on the cheek and so you gave him exactly that while he was busy choosing from the apples among the many selections they offered in this store—all of which made you realize, as cheesy as it might be, that the apple of his eye was you. “Fine, I like it when you’re protective.”

He brought his lips to your temple and rubbed your baby bump with his hand. “I’d be an angry tiger if anyone tries to harm mama cat.”

“Silly.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you then moved to the next section.

Something that you had noticed whenever you were out with your husband was how people would always send you looks of interest. It was either they recognized Satoru ‘the famous handsome heir’ or they simply loved how you two exuded a lovey-dovey couple’s image. He had gotten used to the attention he was receiving because he was a magnet that attracted it way before you were his betrothed, but because you were now his wife, everyone had also started to pay close attention to you. You could never forget how one person from Twitter just said, ‘They’re such an attractive couple. Their baby would look like an angel,” and the sweet message made you all the more excited to meet your little munchkin.

“Oh, can I get this roasted sesame dressing for my salad?” you inquired your husband who looked attractive with his grey pants and half-unbuttoned white shirt from work.

He assessed the Kewpie bottle before giving a go signal. Or no signal in this case. “Contains mayonnaise. You can’t.”

“Hey!” you complained. “Only homemade mayonnaise is bad for me. This is commercial made. It’s completely safe.”

His sigh sounded like he didn’t want to give in. “Fine. We can deal with that.”

This man… You shook your head in disapproval. You swore to God, you would make him run to a convenience store at two in the morning to get the most random food and play it off as a craving if he decided to be strict with what you ate. He even lessened the junk food in your walk-in pantry because excessive sodium was bad for your health, especially for your heart. But who said anything about ‘excessive’? You were fine to eat a pack of Cheetos or two.

You two continued walking along the aisle while you had your hand on your stomach—something that you were instinctively doing to make sure that your baby could feel your presence. And all was fine and dandy until your husband entered a specific aisle.

Teas and coffees.

Something just snapped inside of him. The gentle, playful face that he was plastering earlier was now replaced by anger and frustration. The memory of Sera’s spiteful actions brought a sense of unfulfilled revenge from Satoru and you were about to tell him to let it go until he pulled his phone out and dialed a specific number.

“Miwa,” he greeted in a low voice, turning around and pretending to look at the row of coffees in front of him. “Do you have access to the company’s scholarship grants?”

You stood there behind the cart in silence. Scholarship?

Satoru spoke to his secretary again. “Yeah, I need you to terminate the one under Jiro Iwasaki. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

Iwasaki. That was Sera’s last name. Was that person related to her? He must be, because there was no doubt that Satoru was doing that as a payback to his ex-girlfriend who tried to deliberately harm his unborn child.

You didn’t speak up until he ended the call and looked at you as if nothing happened.

“Babe, let’s go—”

“Who’s Jiro to Sera?” you questioned, carefully watching the mask of austerity that casted his face.

He avoided your eyes and kept a stolid mien. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Satoru,” you adjusted the tone of your voice as a warning, “you know what’ll happen if you don’t answer me straight.”

You two would argue here in a very public place if need be. He seemed to understand that there was no way out of this except to be honest. “He’s Sera’s brother. I haven’t met him, but my dad offered him a scholarship so Sera would stay away from me.”

“Why are you punishing the poor boy?” You crossed your arms and earned his sigh. “Sera hasn’t been the nicest, but who knows how much that scholarship means to her brother? He has nothing to do with this. Don’t ruin a harmless person’s life.”

“She tried to ruin yours,” he countered despite your resolute voice. “And my child’s harmless too, isn’t he? But what did she do? She’s probably planning to put your life in danger. She should take this as a lesson.”

You chose not to argue with him further for your peace of mind because Satoru could never be convinced to take it easy on Sera. In the end, you couldn’t really blame him. He felt betrayed and he was scared for the safety of his baby, especially at the rate of her anger. It was understandable how he hired more bodyguards to keep an eye on you because sometimes people could do crazy things when they’re overtaken by rage, but wasn’t he the best example of that? Had he forgotten Bora Bora?

Little did he know, you called Miwa later that night to ask for more information about Sera’s brother. Your husband’s secretary promised not to tell him that you asked about it because she understood what you were trying to do. After all, she was in a situation where she had siblings to care about, too.

With a plan set in mind, you dialed your own trusted assistant to silently lay out your instructions while your husband was busy talking to the chefs. “Hi, Akari. Can you maybe award Jiro Iwasaki with a scholarship grant under my name? He studies at the University of Tokyo.”

Toji normally followed a consistent daily schedule that was already packed throughout the week. Everyone in the building knew that if they wanted to speak to the CEO, the appointment must be booked and the earliest he would be available would be the following week. His job was hectic and time was gold. God, how original was that motto? But it was true. Every second mattered and he wasn’t the type of man who would waste his time lingering around on a weekday and not dealing with important business matters.

Yet here he was, making an exception for his good friend.

Gen was in dire straits. He knew the moment she asked to meet up for a ‘quick chat’ at the café near their office that she was going to talk about anything else but business. This woman could handle a financial conglomerate all on her own so why would she need Toji’s help? The obvious answer: it was about you.

He had been colleagues with Gen since college and he was familiar with how protective of a sister she could be. Only her family could put stress on her face, that crease on her forehead, that inverted slope on her lips—yup, she wasn’t the least bit happy.

“Everything alright?” he asked over a cup of hot brewed coffee and freshly baked croissants. They had specifically chosen a spot saved for the VIPs, one that was usually reserved for private meetings since this café was in the heart of the central business district.

Gen stared at the table with an empty gaze. She seemed to be thinking deeply before she looked up and met his eyes. “Toji, can I trust you with information that you can never, ever share with anyone?”

Here we go. He could already tell what it was about without Gen specifically disclosing it to him. In fact, her question was just for formality. She had already put enough trust to even meet with him here. “Go ahead. You have my word.”

“About my sister,” she didn’t hesitate to cut to the chase, drawing a deep breath and releasing it into a weary exhale, “I know you and her have this connection that I wasn’t expecting you guys to have. You know, she doesn’t have that many guy friends so I take it she trusts you completely for her to stick around.”

He gave a nod as a response. “Why? Something going on with her?”

Gen opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Only empty sighs and eyes that glanced over the window as though the answer to her dilemma was to stare at the men and women in business attires who were walking on the street. After a minute of contemplation, she finally returned her gaze back to him and spilled her mind, “I got someone to investigate on Satoru and there’s just… I learned so much about him.”

“Good or bad?” he asked, pretending not to know.

“Mostly bad.” Gen was obviously feeling tense. “He has a mistress.”

Toji’s breathing was static for a good minute. “Had,” he clarified, much to her surprise. “Not anymore.”

“So y-you knew?” Her eyes had become round. “Y/N told you, huh? Oh my, God. I feel so stupid. I knew it, I knew she was going to confide in you because she was scared that I’d be lashing out at Satoru if she told me. I can’t believe I treated that bastard like my own brother!”

As a man himself, he couldn’t really speak ill about another woman’s husband because this wasn’t his marriage. “Gen, I’m not really in the position to be your sister’s spokesperson.”

Although your sister was smiling, the tension on her face was still there. It was the most vivid expression that could be read on her face. “I know, and I’m sorry for wasting your time on this. I’m just on a deadend right now. I can’t speak to my dad about this yet. I can’t confront Satoru directly because heaven knows what I would do. Then there’s my sister, she’s in her first trimester. It’s gonna stress her out and I promised myself that whatever I find out about her husband’s affair, I’ll keep it to myself until the time’s ready. I already suspected that he was cheating on her, but confirming it really disgusted me.”

“You’ve only heard one side of the story,” he considered, keeping a neutral voice as he spoke. Toji guessed that Gen’s knowledge did not exactly reach the part where her sister was suffering a heart condition because otherwise she would have mentioned it by now.

“I honestly don’t need to hear Satoru’s side of the story,” she spat while gripping the coffee mug tighter. “He hated the marriage, cheated on my sister out of spite, probably treated her like shit the whole time. You know how I found out? Someone tipped me to speak to Mei Mei, their finance director. I run the finance industry in this country so imagine how easy it was for me to get her to spill all the things she knows. How he was dating his father’s previous secretary, how he brought her to Bora Bora along with my sister, how he apparently took her to a hospital thinking she was pregnant. He deserves none of my sympathy!”

Any normal person would think that Gen was being petty for revealing Satoru’s scandals to his biggest company rival. Why? Because Toji could easily use this information and ruin Gojou’s image to the public. Just one anonymous word to the media and the Gojou Group would foresee a massive drop on the stock market. While that may be true, Gen was actually being smart. She knew that Toji's loyalty was where common sense lies. She was aware that if he wanted to ruin Satoru, he would have done it long ago because you’ve basically revealed the downsides of your marriage to him since your first encounter at the auction. But see, even if he had been aware of your husband’s shortcomings—his neglect, his infidelity, his greed—Toji stayed in his lane and never let himself get caught in the middle. That was why Gen found the assurance to tell him everything that she was able to gather from her little research.

“So what do you plan to do?” he inquired because he couldn’t exactly comment about your marriage. “Y/N’s health is top priority. She has a baby. You don’t wanna risk her.”

Not just because she’s pregnant, but also because she has a fragile heart, he silently thought while hoping that Gen would do the right thing.

Thankfully, she seemed to understand her boundaries. “No, I’ll deal with it behind the scenes. First, I wanna know who the mistress is. Then I’ll consult my husband about the legal consequences that Satoru could face on the grounds of a divorce if my sister ever ends up deciding on it. She told me she’s not thinking about a divorce anymore, but I’ll have everything prepared in case she changes her mind. I’ll eventually pull out our investments from the Gojou Group, too.”

Toji surely loved the sight of this businesswoman getting her work done impeccably. Maki and Mai should learn from her. Of course, Gen of all people would make sure that her family’s assets would not be affected by being one step ahead, but a small part of him also wondered about this, “What if Y/N never pursues a divorce?”

“That’s exactly my problem,” she admitted, slumping. “Look, our families will never be the same. I can’t look at him the same anymore. I can solve math easily, but what I can’t understand is why my sister would stay with someone who treats her like that.”

He smiled. “There’s no equation to her reasoning,” he told her straight to the point. “It’s love. Regardless if they have a baby, regardless if he used to neglect her as a wife, we don’t know what else they shared within their marriage. We know the ugly parts of it, but do we know the good parts? Do we know what kind of connection they must have shared for him to suddenly have a change of heart? It’s not a one way street. If you count the number of terrible things he might’ve done, you should also think of the positive efforts he willingly showed her. Your sister thinks that way—she’s handing out hope and sympathy like they’re flyers.”

The only reaction Gen could express was to massage her temple and think it through. “I understand she has an altruistic nature, but I can’t help but be worried. I want her to realize that it’s okay to take a step back if she’s being wronged. She just needs to escape that strong connection she has with him.”

“That’s gonna be difficult,” his honesty was better said than not. “I always see them like this. She’s the star and he’s the black hole. Gravity attracts her to him and once she’s sucked into that void, it makes him inescapable.”

Was that a good analogy? Toji felt like he had been way too poetic with that one.

“You’re right. That’s basically how they are ever since they were kids,” she claimed, nodding to herself while possibly recalling her childhood memories. “It’s sad because Satoru loved her so much back then so I don’t know why he would do these things to her now.”

He offered a shrug. “Experiences can change a person.”

Toji didn’t think that Gen would suddenly widen her eyes as though she just remembered something from his words. And as soon as she recollected her thoughts, she was quick to speak up. “There’s actually something else I found out about Satoru,” she revealed in intrigue, “his stepmother was sabotaging him all this time. She was paying Mei Mei to do all the dirty work and oust him from becoming the CEO. Remember that project he had planned for the Art Museum? Construction almost started, but he couldn’t finalize it because the allotted budget was miscalculated so his father got furious.”

He, too, was a businessman. He could understand how tough and pressuring it was to run a conglomerate especially if you were the sole heir, so for Satoru to have all these nasty people sabotaging his business plans, it was beyond unbelievable. But then again, it must be the taste of his own karma. Satoru was still young and could learn from his mistakes, but what he should also watch out for was the people he was closely dealing with. A suffering husband would bring a suffering wife down with him. Toji couldn’t let you go through that much stress.

“I think you should deal with this the right way, Gen,” he advised, once and for all. “You discovered so many things about him. If you wanna confront Satoru, it might be best to keep your sister out of it.”

How ironic was it that while he was talking to your sister, he suddenly received a text message with your name on the notification?

You: Hey, Toji! :) I’m here on 4th Street. Can I meet up with you quickly?

You: I just have to drop off my very overdue gifts for Maki, Mai, and Megumi

Right. It had been awhile since he last saw you, hasn’t he? Toji looked up at Gen and told her the sudden situation. “Gen, I think Y/N’s coming here right now to see me.”

“What—” The woman panicked and scrambled to reach for her bag. “No, I can’t be seen here with you. I told her I’m gonna be too busy all day. I just can’t face her right now or else I’ll—”

“Run your mouth?” chuckled Toji, nodding understandingly. “It’s okay. You definitely shouldn’t talk to her while you’re still overwhelmed.”

Gen nodded in agreement, getting up from her seat and gesturing her leave. “Okay, well I’m gonna go back to my office now. I trust you, Toji.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he promised, watching as the CEO of Creston left in haste with the click and clack of her heels echoing through the distance.

Toji had to wait until Gen had completely left before he deemed that the coast was clear. And it didn’t really take long for you to arrive after he texted you his exact location, except he wasn’t expecting another man’s presence along with yours.

That said man was none other than the white-haired, blue-eyed husband that was the main topic between his and Gen’s conversation not more than a few minutes ago. There were two things he found strange here: firstly, since when did Gojou accompany you while meeting up with him? Second, why wasn’t he showing any signs of animosity? Toji could still remember how the man threw a tantrum when he picked you up at the Zen’in estate last time, and although many things had happened since then, he didn’t think that Satoru would look like a tamed animal next to his wife.

“Toji, hey!” As for you, his heart softened when he saw that bright smile on your face. That smile where your cheekbones were prominent and your eyes were shining. Your bump wasn’t visible underneath your coat dress, but it was definitely there. He concluded that you must be having a happy pregnancy because your radiance was blinding. “Oh, were you with someone?”

He cleared his throat, noticing how your eyes scanned the seat, and realizing that Gen’s coffee mug was still there. “Ah, that… I had a meeting with an investor,” he played it off before acknowledging your husband who pulled a seat for you. “Hey, how are things?”

Satoru took his seat next to you with an arm secured behind your backrest. “Been better. My wife wanted to see you and I had to keep an eye on her.”

“For what?” Toji quipped. “She’s not gonna cheat on you.”

With a deep breath, the white-haired man restrained the visible jealousy building inside of him. Why did Satoru not get angry? Was it because of the hand you placed on his lap? Or perhaps the way you might have squeezed his hand under the table? “It’s not that. She’s pregnant and fragile. I have to make sure she won’t be collapsing out of nowhere.”

Oh. For a moment, Toji traded looks with you as if you two could understand each other’s thoughts telepathically. The nod you sent him gave him the idea that Satoru was already aware of your heart condition. No wonder he was protective, but how exactly did that conversation go? He suspected that it was a heartfelt moment for the man to realize how much his wife was suffering because of him. Toji had been there. Toji could understand the fear of losing a wife.

“Well, it’s good that you’re keeping an eye on her,” he told your husband before he turned his head towards you. How was it that he couldn’t resist having a soft heart with just one look at your face? “Congratulations on the baby.”

He couldn’t even keep his eyes off you when your glowing face lit up from those simple words. “Thank you, Toji.” As you smiled, you were also caressing your belly under the table as if your baby was listening to the conversation. He wouldn’t really doubt how much motherhood would suit you since you were kind and nurturing—some of the main traits that any man would dream to have from their wife. He was about to ask how you were going to handle your pregnancy now that you couldn’t take nitrates, but he was cut off when you suddenly reached under the table to hand him a paper bag. “My gift for the kids. It took me a while, huh?”

“I’m sure they’ll be excited to fit them.” Toji accepted your gift with a smile that he rarely gave anyone. If any employee from the Zen’in Group was here, they would definitely be intrigued to see how their strict boss was smiling on a hectic weekday. Why not? Your happiness was contagious. “Mai already convinced Maki and Megumi to have their little photoshoot while wearing the clothes so their followers can see your designs.”

Your features softened exactly like he did. “I miss them so much.”

“They miss you, too.” He watched the small pout on your lips, then placed his focus back to your eyes. “Did you really sew these?”

Even with your makeup, you were a natural. “Yeah, just Maki’s actually. It was the least complicated to sew, but I’m learning. My seamstress and I work at the studio every day.”

Before his presence would be forgotten, Satoru finally decided to chime in and remind the two of them that he was still there. “She’s so passionate about it. Wouldn’t even let me disturb her while she’s designing and cutting patterns.”

At least, Toji was glad that your husband was supportive of your dreams. You never would have been confident to pursue the industry if you weren’t given a boost of motivation. “I’m really glad you’re doing something you love, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well…” You grinned. “I still have a long way to go. You may need to chase Moncler and give them that leasing space.”

A low chuckle left his scarred lips. He was about to make another ‘Mrs. Zen’in’ joke until he saw the look on Satoru’s face. The man didn’t seem aggressively jealous, however. He appeared more like a puppy who wasn’t getting enough attention from his owner. How funny was that sight?

“I’ll support whatever you want,” was what Toji ended up saying to you, “I always will.”

While Satoru found his silence, you reached for Toji’s hand atop the table and squeezed it in gratitude. “I’m so grateful for you, Toji.”

“—I think you’re mistaken here. My brother isn’t supposed to pay for fees. Why is he being disenrolled for his classes?” Sera questioned the woman behind the registrar. “He has a scholarship grant.”

Considering the stress she had gone through for the past week—the rumors, the lack of job, the tight budget—Sera could barely get any sleep and it was driving her insane. They couldn’t even pay the house rent for the next three months and now her brother was apparently being asked to pay for tuition fees when he wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t really planning to go to his university, but after finding out that Jiro was working two jobs a day just to earn enough and pay the fees, Sera knew she had to do something.

Strangely enough, the woman at the cashier denied her claim. “I’m sorry, Miss Iwasaki. We’ve already confirmed with the Office of Financial Aid and Scholarships. Your brother’s scholarship has been terminated.”

What?! Sera shook her head frantically. “No, no. Wait, that can’t be…” This should be Satoru’s decision. This was his revenge!

“I’m sorry,” the woman continued behind the glass wall, “The fees would have to be settled before he can take his classes.”

No… Sera felt like the ground she was standing on was splitting into two. She wasn’t really expecting that the outcome of her actions would lead to this, and she was even more devastated that the man she loved would go as far as ruining her family’s life. Did Satoru even love her at all? How could someone who once made an oath to love her unconditionally do something like this? Her chest felt tight. Constricted. Her heart was bleeding from the pain and heartbreak that she was feeling.

How else could she save her brother now? Her guilt was chastising her soul knowing that this was all her fault. This was her comeuppance and whether she liked it or not, her family would suffer on behalf of her.

Her lips were quivering when she decided to walk out of the university registrar, but upon exiting the place, she was stopped by the same woman who incessantly denied her claims not long ago. “Hang on, Miss Iwasaki.”

Turning around, she was met by the apologetic eyes of the woman and a student assistant who was carrying a file in her hand. “Please accept my apologies for the confusion. It seems that the files were not updated,” said the lady. “A full scholarship was recently granted to your brother under Mrs. Y/N Gojou.”

“C-Come again?” Sera looked at her in surprise.

“It was filed the same day the previous one was terminated,” she confirmed, stapling the papers and placing them back on her desk. “Looks like your brother has nothing to worry about.”

She couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t absolutely wrap her mind around this. A scholarship grant by you? After she literally tried to harm your child because of her jealousy? Sera was in complete disbelief and felt like she was going to faint from the sudden news. This might be staged, too. Maybe you got Satoru to cancel the scholarship and placed it under your name so you could antagonize her even more? That must be the reason because there was no way in hell that you would help her.

No, you couldn’t be too kind like that. Or were you?

Sera couldn’t answer all the questions in her head and the only time she got distracted was when her phone started buzzing nonstop. She withdrew the gadget from her bag and saw the caller ID of the very woman she wanted to avoid. Miss Eula.

Still, she couldn’t really just ignore her after everything. Perhaps this was also the best opportunity to tell her that she no longer wanted to associate herself with her. “Hey, Miss Eula?”

“Sera, we need to talk. Be quick and come meet me at this place. I’ll send you the address,” the lackadaisical tone of hers suggested that she wasn’t one to care about the things that had happened to Sera because of her wrongful advice.

And although the older woman made her seethe inside, she had to give in. “I’ll be there.”

The address wasn’t a sketchy place that could have led to her being kidnapped like they did in the movies. It was actually a private balcony of a 5-star restaurant that overlooked the Tokyo bay. It didn’t really surprise Sera to see Miss Eula with her fur coat, huge sunglasses, and ostentatious jewelry when she met with her at a reserved table that had the best view of the city.

“Sit down,” she ordered, taking her sunglasses off and scrutinizing Sera’s face. “I heard about the stunt that you pulled in the office.”

Sera held her breath. “Stunt? You’re the one who encouraged me to do it, Miss Eula. My life’s ruined.”

“Oh, please. You’re a big girl. You act like I held you at gunpoint so you could do it,” she released a scoff, totally unbothered as she sipped on her red wine. “Besides, your relationship with Satoru can’t be saved. He’s in love with his wife.”

Balling her hands into fists, she couldn’t control the way she spoke with gritted teeth, “Then, why did you want to see me?”

She didn’t even want to get started on the rumors that had spread like wildfire in the office. Sera was labeled as a homewrecker and a child killer—both of which varied depending on the story. One rumor suggested that she tried to poison you because of her jealousy which was why Satoru furiously stormed off to see her. Another rumor suggested that she harassed you because she was angry that she couldn’t legally bear Satoru’s child since she was an alleged mistress. The weirdest rumor of all was how Sera was accused of blackmailing you for money because she apparently knew some things that the public were not aware of.

Like what? That Satoru was only meant to use you in the beginning?

Either way, those rumors eventually stopped because Satoru’s father handled everything to protect his son’s image now that he was expecting a grandchild from his precious daughter-in-law. All employees would be immediately terminated, even sued for defamation, once caught spreading rumors about his son’s infidelity. So what had happened to the man who unapologetically abused his son? Was he just protecting him to lessen the damage of a foreseeable conflict with investors?

Surprisingly, that was not the topic Eula wanted to talk about when she spoke again, “I don’t give a damn about Satoru and his wife. I already realized that a baby can’t get in my way,” she claimed, setting her wine glass back on the table. “I wanna talk about Naoya. Did you think I wasn’t aware that you’ve been seeing him a lot these days?”

Naoya. Sera remembered his warning about this woman when they last saw each other and the memory started flooding her head like a waterfall.

‘She’s obsessive’, he said. ‘She’s jealous of you’, he said. The obvious fury in Miss Eula’s eyes was a clear indication of how true Naoya’s words were and Sera was revolted by it.

“What about it?” She crossed her arms and held her chin up high remembering how this was the exact gesture you did when you confronted Sera before. “Naoya and I like each other. He’s respectful of me, he understands me, and he doesn’t take me for granted. Please leave him alone, Miss Eula. He told me he feels disgusted with you.”

Miss Eula clenched her jaw. “What did you say?” In a span of three seconds, the older woman lost it. “How dare you say that!”

“Aah—!” Sera yelped when the crazy woman splashed wine all over her face, staining her favorite white dress that she wore on her first date with her ex-boyfriend. “Miss Eula!”

“What, you’re seducing Naoya and now you think you’re better? You leech!” she brutally spat while Sera hastily grabbed a napkin to wipe her face. “Listen here, Sera. You wanna know why you can never win Satoru’s heart and live a lavish life just like mine? Because you’re too ambitious. You’re trying so hard to belong to a place where you don’t fit in. And no, don’t tell me to look in the mirror. At least I managed to marry a wealthy man and I admit that I’m a gold digger. Meanwhile, you’re out here trying to convince everyone that you’re not after Satoru’s money. Isn’t that why you’re leeching off of Naoya, too? You want his money and status because you can’t have it from Satoru anymore.”

She hoped that the woman could feel the fire burning through her glare. If only looks could kill. “That’s not true, I really am not after the money—”

“Don’t feed me with your bullshit.” Eula spitefully laughed. “I’ve been there, darling. I know how women like us become desperate when we no longer have other resources. But let me tell you this, stay away from Naoya if you don’t want trouble coming your way.”

Obsessive. Again, Naoya was right. Instead of succumbing to her threat, Sera chose to stand on her ground. “Why would I stay away from him? What are you to him? Because as far as I know, he wants to throw up whenever he sees you.” She then unbuttoned her blouse and showed the marks on her collarbone, marks that made Eula’s nose flare in absolute rage. “I slept with him and we both liked it, so why would I stay away from him when he clearly wants me?”

“You—!” The older woman lunged at Sera, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling it as she screamed in anger. Eula was acting like an animal that had gone wild and it was so unexpected that she would ever let her emotions go out of control just because of a younger man who wanted nothing to do with her.

“You’re crazy! Let me go!” Sera desperately tried to break free even though her scalp was burning from the stretch. “I’m gonna tell your husband that you’re sexually harassing a younger man! You’re a freak!”

Eula let go of her, only to slap her cheek in return. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare! I’ll kill you!” her warnings were added with another slap. “And how dare you say Naoya hates me when we have a mutual relationship! Stop creating your own narrative just because you’re unhappy with your pathetic life. He’s mine!”

Sera held her swollen cheek and let out a disgusted scoff. “You’re delusional, Miss Eula. Go visit a therapist. Satoru was right about you all along. You’re sick in the head.”

“And you’re a wannabe slut who tried to kill someone else’s unborn child!” Eula returned a nasty remark after she took umbrage from Sera’s words. “You can’t ruin my life. You’re just a poor, irrelevant girl trying to make a desperate entrance to high society. Leave him alone or you’ll regret it. Stop trying to be me so badly.”

There was no need to fall into Eula’s trap. Sera learned that the best way to deflect her manipulation was to go against her.

“I’d rather die than to end up like you.”

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