#& they went by that name when they were at their worst. the name itself is flinch-worthy when im not expecting it

[silenceofthewave]

[Soundwave nodded and took another deep vent. It steeled itself before sending Shockwave a ping of where the gravesite was. Without a second thought, it transformed and took off, leaving Shockwave behind.]

[Anticipation did not fuel its pace, neither did excitement. It was an active choice to not travel with Shockwave, though. Soundwave did not want to be near him when the inevitable happened, when it really and truly lost it. It could feel all of the pressure from the previous day flood its emotional processors, and felt everything tenfold. The emotions it had stymied yesterday, added on with the fact that it could not take the unbearable guilt of destroying what had been precious to it. Everything was too much, and it did not want to deal with that and Shockwave's cold disposition at the same time.]

[The flight there was torturous. It struggled to keep its processor on the task at hand. All it could think about was Ravage, about how broken she was, how it couldn't fix her. It tried desperately to keep the images of her final moments from its mind, the way her body had been split, her heaving vents, her wild eyes and the way her voice was so far away it couldn't be heard through their bond. Every time it tried to think about something else, it just went back to the way her paws were splayed against the ground, the energon pooling under her mouth and chassis, and how the last thing it heard from her was its name.]

[Every death of its Cassettes was traumatic. Every death haunted Soundwave in its worst moments. But Ravage's was by far the worst. Ravage and Laserbeak were the two Cassettes it had that it did not create, rather they saved each other in the Pits. They were there since, essentially, day one of its gladitorial career. Ravage was its guide, and Laserbeak was its hope. To lose either one of them was to lose a part of itself that it could never get back.]

[When Soundwave finally reached its destination, the landscape was unrecognizable. There were no large metal slabs that it had left behind. There were holes in the ground, but nothing in them. It felt the panic rise in its processor as it landed, transforming and hitting the ground as it staggered forward.]

[What happened?!]

[Ravage?]

[Soundwave stumbled around, possessing none of its graceful coordination. Where was she? She had to be here! There was no way she couldn't be! No. No, no no.]

[It almost tripped over into the hole that was her grave. It stared into the pit, that terrible, horrible empty pit. There was nothing, and then a horrific heat seared through its processor. Soundwave dropped to its knees.]

[Before Shockwave even arrived, he could hear a strut chilling, energon freezing scream.]

@dailydoseoflogic

[Shockwave was not the only one who remembered the reformat. This memory was far crisper, more than likely spurred on by its emotional importance and the situation Soundwave found itself in. Shockwave leaning over it working quickly with a practiced servo while the grief of losing all but Laserbeak sat heavy on its processor.]

[It knew that this moment was different, and the hard stop it had placed on its emotional processing was doing most of the work from keeping it go nearly catatonic like it had been eons ago. Still, a heavy feeling was able to bleed through, code popping up in places it shouldn't. Primus it was going to have the worst helmache when it woke out of recharge.]

[All Soundwave could do was watch and try to distract itself. It focused on Shockwave's digits as they ran through its sensory net, finding the small modules to turn them off. Every movement it could feel sent a chill up its spinal strut. Those wires were not usually touched, and it took all the willpower in its frame to not melt against him.]

[When it noticed that small action, Soundwave immediately found it to be strange. It was not supposed to be deriving comfort from this. Yet, as soon as the sensation was there, it was gone when Shockwave turned off the localized sensory input.]

[Instead, it would look to his optic. Again, it was devoid of indicators, except maybe the slight backwards tilt of his finials, and still he exuded concentration. Soundwave found itself studying him- it's not like Shockwave would be able to tell anyway. It wasn't giving him one of its patent death glares, and its visor was firmly covering whatever remained of its face. It was intrigued by the way his finials would move ever so slightly as he worked, by the near imperceptible refocusing of his optic, the plating that framed careful lines along his helm.]

[Then, there it was. A pause. Not only in the scientist's hand, but overall. For a moment, Soundwave feared something was completely amiss, but then suddenly it felt those digits leaving the sensory input that had been off mere seconds ago. Moments later the plating had been replaced and Shockwave was speaking. It would have to file that away for further analysis...]

[It was in the process of sitting up, when Shockwave uttered "mutually occupy the one available." Soundwave could not help the startled jerk its helm gave to stare at its companion. Leave it to Shockwave to find the least, yet most, awkward way to approach an awkward situation.]

[Soundwave held up a servo, attempting to indicate that it was thinking.]

[The process felt smooth, easy. Primus, it really needed that tune up. The thought tree splintered off in many different probabilities and outcomes. It clipped the most absurd ones first, especially the ones that related to intimate physical contact. It had no need, nor desire, and it highly doubted Shockwave would either. It clipped together a (short) list of terms and compiled them into a readout on its visor. It knew for a fact that it would not have the words recorded for this. In a fluid motion the mech stood and faced Shockwave, visor once again lit up.]

Mutual Occupation Terms:

1. Shockwave and Soundwave will stay on their own sides on the berth.

2. Physical contact will be avoided as best it can be.

3. Shockwave will not attempt to wake Soundwave out of its defragmentation cycle unless it is a matter of life or death.

Acceptable?

[fingertipsmp3]

I can’t explain it but I do feel like there’s ghosts and supernatural stuff going on. Obviously I have no proof but I 100% believe it

[tteokdoroki]

nagi has beef with any of your pets cuz why do they get to lay around all day but he doesn’t :(

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— feline foe + seishiro nagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — strangers to enemies except it’s nagi and your pet cat.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, semi-smutty, mentions of sex, suggestive towards the end, dry humping, owning a cat lol, the cat walks in on you, established relationship, pro player!nagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 2K.

⭑ notes — thank u lambie for sending me this ! i thought it was too cute an idea not to write! also i queued this to post on nagi’s bday so happy bday to my bf <3!! enjoy! - m.list ✩

it might sound vain, but nagi was sure that before it arrived, he was the centre of your universe.

he had all of your attention, always. you went out of your way to bring him lunches at the stadium during practices and helped him drink water or energy drinks on the pitch at his games because you liked to believe that it would bring him good luck and he let you. his teammates heave with jealousy each and every time.

when your days were done, you’d let nagi settle his head in your lap while you brush back his hair and scratch at his scalp — letting him game to his heart's content in your company. nagi might have been pampered too and much to the point where he expected to have all of your attention… so he doesn’t quite understand why all of it shifts to a brand new presence in your lives. 

your cat. 

miruku. milk.

it’s a ridiculous name for an animal, nagi thinks, it’s a pest. annoying. but he couldn’t say no to you when you’d brought the stray cream-coloured kitty home, soaked in rain from where you’d chased it around his apartment complex trying to bring it inside. if he said no to you, that would’ve been another issue in itself — and nagi hated when you fought. it was bothersome having you play silent treatment.

so you keep it, the kitten, and everything changes for seishiro nagi. for the worst.

miruku can do everything nagi isn’t allowed to nd gets away with it as well. he raids the fridge if you leave it open, doesn’t have to pay to replenish it because of course cats don’t have income. he wakes you up at ungodly hours for playtime which usually consists of you sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking around a ball of yarn for the kitty to play with. it’s irritating for nagi, having your warmth stolen away from him and pulling him out of the depths of slumber by your lack of presence— all because the stupid cat wants to play ball and you just can’t seem to say no to it. 

the feline that’s suspiciously close to looking like your boyfriend if he were to be an animal is also allowed to sleep in. miruku naps where he pleases, in the linen closet, the corner of the kitchen where the water pipes run hot, on top of the drier and especially by the front door where he trips up nagi on the way in from practices. it’s like the cat is purposely trying to make the pro-player’s life even more difficult than it’s meant to be and you find it’s every single movement adorable. 

the worst place miruku could possibly nap is seishiro’s favourite spot— on your chest. nuzzled against your boobs on a warm sunday afternoon where your boyfriend should be, where your boyfriend should be making you giggle by sucking hickies into your neck while he thumbs at the skin underneath your breasts. he should be suckling on the sweet expanse of your skin lazily, working you up just enough to offer yourself up to appease seishiro’s insatiable appetite.

and its so sick that he can’t because of your pampered little pet. you’d just brush him off and tell him ‘you’ll get your turn later, sei,’ which makes nagi hate that stupid fucking cat even more than anything.

you don’t ever let seishiro sleep in these days, ripping the blankets from his tall frame every morning with a slice of toast hanging from between your pretty lips as you say. “get up sei, wake up for me, baby.” you coo sweetly, briefly letting go of your breakfast to kiss his forehead before you rush out of the door. “i won’t be happy if isagi or reo have to wake you up for practice. ‘kay?”

“mmm…lil’ longer. please angel.” he groans but you weave your fingers through his snow white locks to scratch at his scalp before you tug on them slightly. 

“up. seishiro nagi. i’ll see you later!” the tone you use is warning, and prompts nagi to shift int he sheets to get out of bed. 

he huffs, stretching his limbs a little too similarly to your kitty companion before the realisation hits— miruku is laying in your spot, comfy and cosy. sleeping. and it only pisses him off more. that should be him.

“you’re a pain.” seishiro narrows his eyes at the snoozing feline, scratching it under the chin and the twitch of miruku’s ears tells him that he’s been acknowledged as a rival. 

so be it. 

“how come this cat gets away with everythin’ ‘nd i don’t?”

nagi whines into your neck, watching with darkened and narrowed eyes as his feline opponent hops up onto the couch to join you both in your late night cuddle session. miruku makes his presence known, pushing his head under your chin affectionately and clawing at the fluffy blanket draped over you and your boyfriend. you obviously find it adorable, your hands slipping from seishiro’s soft white hair to tickle just behind your pet’s ear— completely discarding the man tucked into your side. 

“what are you talking about, sei?” you mumble absentmindedly — missing the way the striker squirms in his seat and squeezes you close by the waist, as if to pull you away from the offending kitty.

seishiro grumbles out a response. “he gets to sleep in, but when i do it, it’s a bother. same for when he gets in the fridge too, and when i nap on top of you—“

“stop complaining about him, sei. miruku is just a baby!” you scold your boyfriend, hugging your kitten to your chest, cooing down at him as if he really is a baby. nagi seethes from beside you, that should be him in your arms and not some cat-like freeloader from the streets. miruku blinks up at the white-haired pro player slowly, his mouth opening in a petty meow that almost makes nagi hiss back in response. 

“i’m supposed to be your baby.”

“and you are! but you’re just a little more self-sufficient than my precious lil’ kitty— he needs me to take care of him.” 

“why don’t you just take care of me? cats are s’pposed to be independent,” seishiro nuzzles into your neck, his lips still pouty against your skin and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t overwhelmed with affection for your two boys. “‘n looking after the two of us must be a drag…” 

rolling your eyes, you turn your head to capture nagi in a surprise chaste kiss just to sate him— brushing your lips over his delicately. “i do take care of you, seishiro. some might say you’re a little spoilt with how much i do,” smiling into the kiss, you scratch your nails through his scalp in the way that he likes, a lot similar to your feline friend before jumping up from the couch with a clap of your hands. “now which one of my boys is hungry?”

miruku is promptly shooed to the floor beside a frustrated nagi left without your warmth. the pair share a brief moment of eye contact as your boyfriend runs a hand over his face in annoyance. 

“i hate you.”

“meow.”

the final straw for nagi is the night your cat makes it into the bedroom while you’re having sex. 

he’s pent up, training has been more intensive than usual and all he wants to do is come home and lose himself in you. you let him, falling into the sheets with seishiro nagi, your hands lost in his sea of perfectly soft white hair, your mouth on his, your legs wrapped around the small of his waist as he sinks into you for the first time in a long time. you share a moan, muffled by nagi’s tongue working it’s way down your throat and his entire body weight thrown over you. 

somehow he manages to tear through your clothes, tongue hungrily lapping over your pert nipples while you tug his aching cock free from the confines of his shorts. tears sting at your waterline as nagi presses into your cunt without much prep. he’s so big, you feel as though he might already be kissing your cervix without even moving and you tug hard on his hair at the feeling of nagi twitching within your walls.

“s-sei, god. fill me up s’good—!”

he cuts you off with a throaty moan, eyes rolling back as he gives an experimental thrust. “s’no fair…s’pretty. so tight around me, fuck, angel…”

the moment is perfect, he’s dizzy with love and desire and all caught up in the heat it all… that is until your stupid fucking cat starts screaming bloody murder from outside your locked door. 

“leave it,” seishiro grunts, pawing at your sides and languidly rolling his hips into yours. “s’probably nothin’, angel.” 

you gasp and nod, delirious with ecstasy and pull him closer but miruku seems to whine again— scratching pathetically at the door. “sei, what if—?” 

“he’s fine, jus’ focus on me, pretty thing.” and for the most part you try, you let nagi have his way with you— let him pin you to the bed and make you see galaxies and you’re both about to burst when he swears to the fucking stars he feels that cat’s paw between his balls. 

he doesn’t remember what happens next, just that he sees red or turns it and you are equally as embarrassed— shuffling out of the room to deal with your pesky cat, draped in one of sei’s spare hoodies. 

that’s when nagi decides he’s had enough. 

his final plan isn’t to get rid of miruku but instead to steal your attention away from the dumb animal. 

nagi puts a little more effort into cleaning up himself and the house for you once he gets back from practice at blue lock ( after multiple face times to barou and isagi, reo and others ). he stops by a flower shop and puts together an arrangement that he thinks you’ll like because the colours remind him so much of you. 

when you come home, your eyes light up at the bouquet on your sparkling countertops and the sight of your boyfriend lounging around in your kitchen on his phone. “baby, did you get these for me?” you swoon. 

“yeah. on the way back from practice i went to that flower shop you always talk about.”

“sei, that’s not even on the way home,” you smile and his heart flutters in his chest. “you didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

nagi bristles with happiness as you make your way into his arms of your own accord and hide your face in his toned chest. “i’d do anything for you, angel,” he mumbled into your hairline and uses a finger to tilt your head up for a gentle kiss, quickly distracting you from miruku who’s jumped up onto the counter. “missed you, s’much.” he knows exactly what he’s doing when he presses his cock between your thighs, dropping his lips to your neck wetly. 

“m-missed you too, sei but…gotta feed the cat…” 

your kitten purrs at your side but seishiro rolls you over, nailing your hips down to the countertops and grinds into you feverishly. his plan is working. 

“no buts, need you. god… s’not fair bein’ away from you f’so long. baby…fuck.” he’s whiny and needy, grabbing handfuls of your ass to slide you back and forth on his growing erection so that you become putty in his hands. you’re so lightheaded that you don’t even hear your cat meowing for your attention— clinging onto nagi’s broad shoulders for dear life. “unless you want me to stop?”

you blink up at your boyfriend, teary eyed and ravenous— for once not reaching out instinctively to pet miruku but instead reaching up to tug on seishiro’s soft snowball locks and bring him down to your height. “i don’t want you to stop, seishiro,” you growl, your voice dipping into sensual and sultry territory. “i want you to fuck me.” 

“can do, angel.” he coos, letting you drag him by the hand towards your shared bedroom.

nagi throws a smug look over his shoulder at your unhappy cat, grinning from ear to ear as miruku hisses at him in defeat.

nagi: 1 - miruku: 0

[carame1bunny]

𝔉𝔞𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫

Hello dears! Here is the fourth part of my “of the season” series(?)!

Pairing: Alastor x Fem doe!reader

Summary: The two deers finally welcome their baby

Warning: childbirth, nursing, mentions of smut, pregnancy, a whole lotta fluff:)

Alastor knew one thing for sure, he couldn’t wait to meet his little fawn. To hold it in his arms, protect it. His paternal instinct went into overdrive. He suddenly remembered the way Y/N acted when she was in heat, her body being tricked into thinking that a fawn needed a mother, that a fawn needed her. The way her body was singing to him, the way she made her nest bigger at the thought of him. The way she had a bit more meat on her, he could never forget the softness of his doe. Only now… it wasn’t a trick, she really was expecting. And he had to make sure that everything went perfectly. However, as the days went by, his urges became stronger and more powerful, that only meant one thing… The fawn was due any day. And that day came soon enough…

The deers were fast asleep in their bed, limbs tangled together, but Y/N woke up to an uncomfortable sensation. She felt pressure inside of her, not necessarily painfully, but it was not comforting either. She knew it was time, she had been sensing it for a while. Her now big bump dropped a bit, her womb lowering itself so their baby has an easier time getting out. She also sensed it on herself and Alastor. Her mind constantly chanting to her. Bigger nest, bigger nest, more room for fawn, more room for fawn, fawn fawn fawn. She could barely contain her laugh when she noticed Alastor mirroring her behavior. He was as restless as her, and he spent many hours with her in their nest, their bodies just needing to bask in each other’s comforting scent and touch.

“Alastor? Darling?!” She shook him awake, she couldn’t possibly go back to sleep now.

He was instantly alert and barely sitting upright in bed, with a huge palm over her belly in protectiveness. “It’s time isn’t it?” His instincts immediately realized what was going on. “Should I call Rosie?” He already reached for the wired telephone beside them, but his mate stopped him.

“Let’s wait until we’re sure I’m in labor. It could be a false one.” She said in a soft tone, but they both knew this was the real deal. It was still best to wait a bit though, in the past two weeks, they had multiple times when they thought their baby wanted it’s arrival, but it was not it.

“You’re right, doe.” She laid on her back and his hands were already fluffing her back into the sheets and pillows. “Stay here and attempt to rest while I make you some tea.” He planted a kiss on her lips and belly before walking downstairs to make the tea. He could think while the water was heating up in the kettle. He didn’t only just wait for her to give birth so he could hold his fawn, but so she could be comfortable as before. He knew she adored being pregnant, she loved that she could protect her baby in her own womb, she was growing it and keeping it warm. But with pregnancy, came pain. It was no secret that her belly was huge, a bit bigger than usual, Rosie was the one drawing attention to it, when the deers were over for tea.

“My, my, darling.” She put her manicured palm on her swollen belly. “Well, won’t we have a blast getting this babe out! It will be a meaty one!” Y/N looked at Rosie with wide eyes.

“But there won’t be any complications, right?” She grabbed Alastor’s hand in a panic.

“There shouldn’t be any. I mean… Alastor is a tall gentleman, ain’t he, and maybe the baby will be as big as the daddy? And you are at the very end of your pregnancy.” Rosie patted his shoulder.

Alastor kissed his mate’s neck, where he bit her, and spoke in a calming tone. “Don't worry your pretty head about it, all will be well.”

He was pouring the water when he heard her shriek and a call of his name. The worst possible scenarios came to his mind, but he was somewhat relieved when he found her in their bed. At first he didn’t see the issue, until he saw the big wet spot under her, the soaked sheets. His smile crept upwards, just like her own did. She just leaned to the side and picked up the phone, calling Rosie.

Alastor needed a second before he got down to helping her. While she was on the phone, he got out warm towels and warm water to bring into the guestroom. He fluffed the bed as much as he could before going back to the bedroom. The sight waiting for him made his heart tighten, Y/N was struggling to get out of the bed because of the size of her belly. He immediately rushed to her rescue. “There, there, doe.” He got her up on her two feet and looked down between them, he only saw the belly obviously, but not for long. He got her a towel and wiped away the fluid of her womb on her skin, then helped her change into a nightgown. He sat her down into the armchair so he could quickly change their soaked bedding.

“I can help, you know.” She said from the armchair with a toothy grin.

“Ha! No.”

“I want to, and I will he—“ she suddenly felt a caress on her tummy, his shadow. It made her sit back down, enjoying the cool stroking on her warm skin. She was unaware of the shit eating grin on Alastor’s face. She was his mate, he always knew what she needed, which was perfect in her pregnant state. Her hormones made her hot always, loose dresses were completely overtaking her closet. And Alastor always made sure that they had a shit ton of ice at home.

When the bed was clean, he picked her up again and brought her to the guest room, gently putting her down on the bed. He made sure everything was in place before kneeling next to the bed beside her, taking some time to say goodbye to the bump.

He caressed and kissed her skin. “I can’t wait to meet you, my litt—“ He noticed her face screwing up and her whole body tensing. “What is it?!” He went into panic mode immediately.

“I-I think it’s the contractions. I had a few before, but they weren’t s— OW!” As if on cue, Rosie stormed into the room. Of course, looking perfect and fabulous as always.

“I see Mama is getting contractions.” She put her bags down that contained every supply that would be needed for delivering. The back of her hand came up to stroke Y/N’s forehead, an attempt to calm her down. Rosie went in front of the bed and flipped Y/N’s dress up, to see where they were. She checked her and began giggling. “Oh, my! The baby isn’t really wasting any time, I believe we can begin. Darling, I need you to spread your legs as wide as you can.”

Alastor’s ears were twitching, this was it. “What can I do to help?!” He was restless, he needed to help his mate.

“Get behind her and hold her legs!” The cannibal woman instructed. And of course, he complied.

He took off his shirt and got behind Y/N, he knew that the feeling of his skin on hers would calm her down.

Her skin nearly burned his, but she just gave him a smile and laid the back of her head on his shoulder.

“Rosie, is she supposed to be this warm?” He was stressing, like… really stressing.

“Hmm, let’s try taking this nightgown off, okay, dear?” Y/N nodded her head eagerly, desperate for anything to cool her down.

Alastor gently peeled her dress off and held her legs back. He was truly amazed how his doe’s body fought to birth their baby. How her legs naturally bowed for easier delivery. He felt her body tense and her delicate hand tightened on his arms. She started pushing with all of her might.

“Just push whenever you feel the need to.” Rosie’s fingers started pressing down on her lower tummy and womb, checking the baby’s position. “Okay, lovely, the baby is in the right position.”

She was whimpering in his arms, tears were flowing down her cheeks. It broke his heart, seeing her in such pain and knowing that he was the one who put her in this position. But he also knew that in a matter of minutes, they would have their own fawn to hold. He kissed her and embraced her from behind. “It hurts so much, Alastor…”

“My love, it will be over soon. Soon, you will hold your little baby in your arms, our little baby. You are so strong, I know you can do it.” That urged her to push harder.

“Good, good. I can see the head!” Rosie reached in to help the baby’s shoulder out. A thing about hellborn babies, they are beautiful and different from human newborns.

Seconds later, het body tensed for the final time and she let out a huff of relief. Then there was silence, until a little cry was heard. Moments later, Rosie put the wailing baby on Y/N’s naked chest, and she gently enveloped the baby in her arms, with eyes full of tears.

“Oh, my baby!” Alastor reached forward and checked the baby. “Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes.”

“Congratulations, my deers! You’re parents to a beautiful baby boy!” Rosie spoke, while bringing the water and tower to clean the baby and Y/N.

The baby was gorgeous, looking exactly like Alastor. Dark red fur, big red eyes, but there were certain elements from his mama. While he had Alastor’s eyes, they were framed by his mama’s doe eyes.

He was clean and bundled up, resting in the embrace of his parents. “Let me get some water and something sugary!” Said Rosie before leaving the room.

“What are we naming this little one?” Asked Alastor, his eyes were warm and full of love towards his baby.

“He looks like a little gentleman, so something elegant. How about… Vincent Hartfelt?” It fit their baby perfectly, so they stuck with it.

After Rosie came back and Y/N gulped down the water, they were talking in more detail about the healing process. Alastor didn’t hear a word, he was busy cradling the tiny fawn to his chest, letting his tiny cheek nuzzle into his father’s fur.

“You might bleed for a bit, so baby Vincent won’t be the only one with diapers.” Rosie joked. “And if you feel sore, a hot bath always helps. And—“

Both Rosie and Alastor snapped their heads towards Y/N when they heard a weak whimper from her. She was gripping the sheets again, her body tensed up completely. “Probably just your body recovering from birth, darling.”

But in the next few minutes, while Alastor was putting the baby into the crib, Y/N started pushing more frequently, until she spoke with a panicked voice. “Something is happening!” She said between her clenched teeth, body shivering from the intense pain.

The cannibal woman wasted no time to get between her legs again. “OH SHIT! The other fawn is coming.”

“The other what?” The deers said in unison.

“No time for chit-chat, I see the head!” The doe pushed with all of her remaining strength, and a wet sound indicated that their other fawn was out, followed by a sweet cry.

Y/N once again embraced the baby, the mates blinked at it, still surprised from the dramatic entrance. Moments later, the shock turned into joy. Rosie delivered the placenta, her body indicating that there were no more fawns coming.

A quick clean up by Rosie and the second little bundle was wrapped up too.

“A healthy girl!” Both of them kissed around the baby doe’s tiny face, which was followed by a sleepy coo. She was gorgeous, and a perfect clone of Y/N. She also had her father’s colors and red dark eyes.

“What a beauty… She looks just like her Mama, I always knew your beauty will bless hell even more so.” Said Alastor, who was trying hard not to tear up, Y/N hadn’t even bothered minding the happy tears running down her cheeks.

“We each got our little clones, Vincent will grow into the most handsome gentleman in hell!” The need to hold her other baby consumed her. You really thought the motherly instinct would settle? They are just getting started. “By the way, what would you like to name this little one?” the doe asked, looking at Alastor with big tearful eyes.

“Heidi. Heidi Hartfelt.” He just knew that as he was looking down at his child.

“It’s perfect.” Y/N nuzzled the side of her face to her mate’s cheeks. “I love you, and I love our babies. Forever, and ever.”

“Oh, my darling. I love you more than words can say, my love for you and the fawns go beyond everything and anything. I would die for you a million times more.” He kissed her deeply, both of their tails wiggling in excitement.

While Rosie held the baby girl, Alastor carried his doe back into their bedroom. Once she was in bed, under the sheets with her back leaning against the many feathery pillows, Alastor came up beside her with Vincent in his arms and Rosie handed Heidi to Y/N.

Rosie stayed for a little bit, in case any after birth effect happened to Y/N that would need to be tended to. She was sitting in the armchair beside the bed, sipping some tea. “I cannot say I’m surprised. The twins explain the huge belly, I should have known. But look at that size difference!” She was onto something, Vincent was much bigger than Heidi. “And, proper deers have twins most of the time, I didn’t think that was also true for deer sinners.”

“I am overfilled with joy that Heidi decided to come along.” Alastor said proudly.

After Rosie shared and wrote down some tips and stuff for them, she left, but not before giving both the babies and their mama a kiss on the forehead.

“So then there were two…” Y/N said out of nowhere, admiring the little fawns she gave life to.

“Then there were two.” Said her mate, also lost in the love he felt. “My darling, I could never thank you enough for giving us two beautiful babies. I could never thank you enough for letting me take care of you, and welcoming me inside of you, both body and soul. I promise you, there will never be a second when I won’t protect you, care for you and cherish you.”

“I know. I am so proud to call you my mate, and I know I am the happiest I can be. Because of you, and these little ones.”

As if on cue, Vincent woke up and started fussing around restlessly in Alastor’s arm, he weeped quietly. Which of course, caused his sister to wake up too, but she shrieked with all of her might. Y/N’s instincts instantly knew what was going on, her fawns were hungry. “Hold her for a second?” She passed Heidi to Alastor to remove the top of her nightgown. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the milk already dripping from her nipples. He gave her Vincent and he managed to latch on easily, however Heidi was putting up quite the fight.

“Oh, little darling… If you would stop screaming for a second, you could see that Mama is trying to feed you.” Alastor chuckled, he gently got a hold on the back of her head, and with the other hand, he guided his mate’s nipple into the wailing mouth. And from the on, the only thing that was heard in the room was the eager suckling. Y/N leant her head back, while holding and nursing two babies at once.

“You just feed, my loves, you must be so hungry and tired. You spent so much time growing this beautiful in my tummy…”

Alastor thought he might burst with pride, his doe was so very clever. His chin was resting on her shoulder, his eyes were relaxed, and his fingers were constantly stroking a fuzzy little head. He suddenly noticed with a chuckle that Vincent had a drop of milk running down his chin, so he reached down and wiped it away, only to put his finger into his own mouth and tasting the sweetness on it. “I must say I am quite jealous.”

Y/N giggled and whispered into his ear in a seductive voice. “Plenty more from where that came from, as soon as I heal, mommy and daddy can have their own feeding.” She pressed a kiss beside his lips, that had a love dazed grin on them. “Oh, would you look at that!” Both babies were asleep, each having a nipple hanging out of their mouths, completely milk drunk.

They couldn’t let them sleep without burping them, so their little stomach wouldn’t get upset from the excess air. The buck was about to get up to put the babies into the nursery, when Y/N spoke, still snuggling both babies into her arms. “Can you please bring the crib beside our bed? Please, I cannot bear to be away from them.” She said, using her doe eyes.

His eyes softened even more, his mate’s wishes were his commands.

With a snap of his fingers, two bassinets appeared in front of their bed. “Good night, my tiny fawns.” Y/N pressed one more kiss to the foreheads before handing them to Alastor. Once they were bundled up and fast asleep, he leaned into the bassinets and planted kisses on each faces.

He fluffed himself beside his love and she nuzzled herself into him with a purr. “Rest up now, my love. You did so amazing, but you need to let your body rest.”

“I know.” She mumbled, half asleep and snuggled into him completely.

He couldn’t help falling asleep with a big smile on his face. No one in hell beside his little family knew that the Radio Demon never felt happier.

“Lyra, it’s impossible that Y/N was unaware that she was having twins!”

Hold my beer.

Jokes aside, I hope you liked it! And I want to say that the support I got for these series really means a lot to me, so thank you<3

taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o @kimmis-stuff @qu1cks1lversb1tch @chibistar45 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @lillylovesalastorsm1

[marybeatriceofmodena]

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.6

this is kinda silly and cheesy but i just wanted to get this thought out

Summary: Y/N meets Padfoot

Today was decidedly awful.

You had the worst day at work. You were on your feet all day. your boss was in a terrible mood, yelling at both you and Lily and threatened to fire Mary towards the end of the day. You knocked a shelf over, spilling loads of products in the back. And to top it all off, it was pouring rain.

You had gotten off earlier than you’d expected, the one good thing about today. You opened the door to the house and entered, kicking off your shoes and taking off your soaked coat. You needed something to warm you up and help you relax finally. You thought about making some soup or maybe asking Remus to make you a cup of tea.

That’s when you saw the dog.

A large black, scruffy dog lying asleep on your couch. You gasped and rushed over and sat next to it, instantly petting it. “Hello! What are you doing here?” you said in a high pitched cutesy voice. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?”

You looked for a collar and a name tag, but there was none. Who’s dog is this?

“Hey boys?” you called out. There was no response meaning that they had likely stepped out for a bit. You wondered where this dog had come from. Did the boys get one without telling you? Did the dog wander in itself? You’d ask them when they returned home but for now, you decided to just look after the dog.

The dog was now awake and tail wagging as you continued to pet it. The dog was very cute and you could be convinced to keep it if the boys wanted it. The dog looked at you intrigued, but hesitant. You understood, you were a new person, it was a new dog, you two didn’t know each other. But you loved dogs, and petting it was just so irresistible. 

“Hi baby. You wanna watch something with me until the boys get home? We can just sit here and cuddle on the couch,” you said in the same voice. The dog tilted its head at you, but its tail was wagging like crazy. You turned on a show you know the other boys hated, intending on catching up on it while they were out, but you could have sworn you heard the dog huff. 

You sat back and the dog took it upon itself to crawl halfway in your lap. You smiled and pet it. It was incredibly warm so you weren’t complaining. Its fur was soft, silky. You enjoyed the little cuddle buddy. 

You laid there for a little while enjoying the company, until you heard the door open and two voices usher in. James and Remus with grocery bags in hand. You turned in your seat to beam at them.

“Hey love! You’re home early.” James smiled back at you.

You skipped the hellos and went straight to questions. “Who’s dog is this? Is it ours? It's so sweet!” James looked puzzled but Remus’s face blanched.

The two boys saw the dog in question’s head peak over the top of the couch and they instantly shared an exasperated look. 

James chuckled nervously. “Uh-that’s-uh, Sirius-”

“Sirius knows the person the dog… belongs to.” Remus interrupted.

You laughed and teased, “Sirius knows people other than you two?” You continued petting the dog, kissing its snout repeatedly. “Do you know its name?” 

Remus began the same time as James. “No-”

“Padfoot.”

“Padfoot?” you repeated. “What a silly name for a silly little puppy.” you said in the voice. The dog licked your cheek as you giggled. 

Remus looked mortified and Jamed slapped a hand over his mouth.

“What?” you asked. “You two don’t like dogs or something?”

Remus shook his head and muttered “That’s definitely not it…”

You ignored the other two and continued loving on Padfoot. Such a pretty dog. 

“Where is Sirius by the way? I haven't seen him.” You asked the boys. You didn’t think Remus’s face could lose any more color, you were wrong. 

“U-uh I’m not sure. James?” Remus turned to James for help.

“I think he is… working on his bike.” James answered for Remus.

“Oh I see,” you said, still confused as to why they were acting so skittish. “Are you two going to make dinner tonight?” They nodded and you smiled, relieved you could relax for the rest of the night, possibly with your new furry companion. You stood from the couch and made your way over to the stairway. “Ok, well I need to change. Wanna come with me boy?” you asked the dog.

It jumped from the couch and headed straight for the stairs, like it knew where it was going. 

James coughed, “Maybe Padfoot should stay down here.”

The dog turned and again, huffed, almost human-like. 

“Oh, it’s ok! He can come to my room, I don’t have a problem watching over him.” you explained. 

“But-” James started before you could turn and head upstairs. “But what if the owner comes to get him?”

“James, I’ll be upstairs for like 5 minutes tops.” you laughed.

Padfoot raced up the steps before either boy could protest again, and you turned to follow him up. You reached your room and Padfoot had already made himself cozy on your bed. You kissed the top of his head when walking by, opening your dresser to pull out a sleep shirt and some shorts. You began to unbutton your pants, but a pounding on your door halted your actions. “Um, come in?” you called out. You were still dressed so you didn’t think anything of it.

James burst through the door. “Uh, Padfoot's owner is here,” he said quickly.  Damn what a coincidence. 

“Aww,” you frowned, looking at the dog. You walked over and planted one more kiss right between his eyes. “I hope to see you soon, good boy.” 

The dog stood and stretched, then hopped down from your bed, giving James what seemed to be a dirty look as he left. James following, closing your door to let you finally change. They were being weird. Maybe they just didn’t want you to get too attached to it and be sad when it left. 

You change into your comfy clothes, and head back downstairs. You heard hushed arguing as you stepped into the kitchen. The boys, all three now in attendance, looked at you and halted their conversation. “Dog gone?” you asked, slightly dejected. Sirius smirked but it was James who answered.

“Yeah, sorry.” he said, and did look a little sorry.

“It's ok,” you said sadly but decided to let it go. “What are you making Remmy?”

The rest of the night was pretty normal, typical. You ate with the boys and then went to the living room to watch something together. You enjoyed the time with them, talking and laughing like usual, but the night became the early hours of the morning and you decided to head up to bed. Bidding the boys goodnight, you made your way up to your room and got in bed, falling asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Just down the hall, in Remus’s room, the boys gathered. 

“Ok before you two start,” Sirius said in an amused tone “I was asleep on the couch when she walked in, I didn’t have time to change.”

“We’ve talked about this before, you can’t be Padfoot around here, not until she knows.” James lectured.

“Yes, but when is that going to be?” Sirius asked the two, who didn’t have an answer. They had many conversations about the whole magic problem. How they couldn’t change into their animal forms in front of her, they couldn’t do magic in front of her, they couldn’t be around her during the full moons (which they usually snuck out through Sirius’s window and into the woods behind the house.)

Sirius knew that it was a… serious… matter, but at least one thing went his way. 

Laying on Remus’s chest, curled up into his side, James on the other, Sirius laughed quietly, “She kissed me.”

Remus chuckled too, leaving his recklessness be for tonight. “You were a dog.” He pointed out.

“Still kissed me” Sirius said, still smiling. He smiled until he fell asleep with that thought.

Taglist 💌 : @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar  @champomiel

[rinhaler]

As promised!!! Since I love your writing, I had this imagination spark while listening to Chase Atlantic's "HEAVEN AND BACK" song, oddly to say I associate Rin Itoshi in every CA songs. Basically could I request a steamy one-night stand of him meeting reader in a big crowded bar where Rin is likely a bass guitarist? Sounds cheesy of it but XD

GLAD U SAID BASS PLAYER MY BOYF PLAYS BASS 😭 sorry this took SO long to post but I hope u like it :3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, alcohol consumption, (kinda fast) enemies to lovers, fingering, love bites, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess etc.), squirting.

words: 2.2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to a gig. Especially one like this, in a dingy dive bar for a barely known local band. The guitarist is a friend of your cousin’s. And she just about begged you to go.

The place is pretty packed and the music definitely isn’t the worst you’ve heard. In fact, you found yourself swaying your hips and tapping your toes along to the beat. As the night went on and on, you were surprised to find that they were actually good. Good enough to be searching for their latest single when they promoted it at the end of their set.

“Play nice please,” your cousin begs. “I really like him, and I think tonight might be the night.”

“I knew he wasn’t just a fucking friend.” you laugh. She crosses her arms across her chest as embarrassment surges through her, but you still decide to tease her. “You really needed me to help you get some dick?”

“Shut up!” she blushes. “You always have guys falling at your feet so I thought it might rub off on me.” she pouts.

You clear your throat when you notice the guy in question heading your way. She turns around, instantly, smoothing her hair down and putting on the highest, girliest voice she can muster. He seems interested enough without her needing your help, but you decide to stay a few extra seconds for moral support. She giggles at every sentence and smiles giddily whenever he speaks.

“Tone it down, you’re good.” you whisper in her ear before slinking away to the bar.

You signal for a drink, thankful for the low-cut top you’re wearing as everyone else seems to be instantly ignored in favour of you. There’s a scoff beside you, one you choose to ignore until he watches you receive your pint of beer.

“Is there something on my face?” you ask.

“No.” he responds. “I’m jealous of your drink, princess.”

“Excuse me, can you get this guy a beer too?” you yell. The bartender nods with a smile and quickly acquiesces. “Will that put a smile on your pretty face?”

He smirks but shakes his head as he ignores you. He thanks the bartender as he receives his own drink, the frothy head attaching itself to his lip before he licks it away. He grunts a little as he feels a passerby knock into the big black case on his back. It’s only then that you notice it, and pieces begin to fall into place.

“Oh fuck. You were in the band.” you smile excitedly as you angle your body to face him. “I wasn’t gonna come tonight but I’m glad I did.” you giggle as you pull up your phone to show the bands single saved in your music library.

“Thanks.” he nods. “Why did you come?”

“Uh my cousin is trying to fuck the guitarist.”

“You’re Ada’s cousin?” he asks, expression changing to one of slight annoyance. He takes another swig of his beer before elaborating. “Zantetsu hasn’t shut up about her and she’s always crashing our practices. I hope they get it over with, it’s getting in the way.”

“Oh you’re a serious musician. Gotcha.” you roll your eyes. “You know you play the most boring instrument out of everyone, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“Drummers are the hottest, guitars are the most iconic, everyone’s drawn to the singer. And then there’s… you. No one can even hear you over all of that, you know.”

He scoffs once again. You can tell he wants to fight you on it and fill your head with facts about his instrument of choice. But it’s almost like he already knows you and how stubborn you are. He could tell you anything he wants, but you’ll die on the hill you’ve decided to climb just to piss him off more.

“They’d sound like shit if it wasn’t for me.” he mumbles before taking another drink. “The bass is the most important part, you’re clueless. It’s like you’ve never listened to music in your life.”

“Clueless?” you repeat. “Besides, you’ve got a pretty face. I’m sure if your attitude wasn’t so rotten and you were the lead singer you’d be drowning in pussy.”

“I do alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You squint your eyes sceptically. There’s no doubt that he has the potential to pull a girl or two. And, admittedly, you’ve had one very hostile conversation with him. But you can tell from his sulky demeanour that any woman he has a chance with is likely scared off by his attitude.

He tries to ignore you for the remainder of his drink.

God, he tries.

But he’s overwhelmed by the desire to put you in your place.

“I—”

“There’s no way you’re getting girls.” you interrupt him immediately. “Like, no way. Maybe one or two, but you’re not doing better than the lead. He’s gorgeous and he’s the face of the band.”

His smile is wicked as he holds his near empty glass, swilling the golden liquid around the bottom before he puts it down on a coaster. “You really don’t get it, do you?” you’re a little taken aback as he bites his lip whilst looking at you from the corner of his eye.

His expression makes your heart beat a little faster. You find yourself shuffling in your seat as you see just how strikingly handsome he really is when he’s trying. And then it hits you, he’s trying. He’s showing you what he’s capable of and you’re falling for it. Even with the knowledge, it’s too late. All you can think about his that sharp jawline and striking stare.

“You know what they say about bass players.” he says quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. His barstool spins so he’s facing you. You take a sharp inhale as he slowly leans in towards you, the smell of beer on his pretty lips makes you heady and excited, waiting with bated breath for him to continue. “They’re good with their fingers.”

You can’t stifle a laugh as he pulls away, giggling like your cousin had been moments prior whilst flirting with the guitarist. It’s embarrassing, letting him see you reduced to this after trying to irritate him. You clear your throat and try to gain your composure.

“You’re disgusting.” you respond.

“Mmm, you want to find out though, so,” he shrugs, finishing the last dregs of his drink. “I’ll wait by the entrance for ten minutes, if you don’t come find me, I’ll leave without you.” he walks away without even looking at you.

You don’t get a chance to say a word before he seamlessly weaves through the crowd and out of sight. Without thinking, you’re already on your feet and checking the time.

Ten minutes.

You rush through the bar to find Ada, tapping on her shoulder to pull her attention away from Zantetsu. “I’m leaving. Seal the deal, please.” you wink. She nods, laughing as you kiss her cheek and rush towards the entrance.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw his face light up when he realised you were actually going to take him up on his offer. He plays it off, though, trying to appear cooler and more aloof as you approach him.

“It’s barely been two minutes.” he tells you.

“I’m not gonna let you hear the end of it if you’re all talk.” you smirk.

The minute he gets you inside of his apartment, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Your lips are on his in an instant, your breath stolen as he lifts you from the ground and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carries you into the kitchen.

He helps you out of the vest top you’re wearing when he sits you down on the counter so you’re down to your jeans and bra. You tilt your head as he peppers your neck in a combination of soft and sloppy kisses.

Your heels fall off without effort as you instinctively open your legs, rolling your hip against his clothed abs.

“My roommate is out,” he tells you quietly, still kissing you all over. You moan softly as he starts leaving soft bite marks across your skin. “He’s such a clean freak, he’d lose it if he knew—”

“It’s okay,” you giggle, you cup his face and direct him to kiss you again. “Help me get my jeans off.”

He wastes no time unbuttoning them and yanking down the zipper. He keeps his eyes on yours as he helps you shimmy out of the wide-legged jeans, smiling at you as you both hear them crumple on the ground.

“Gonna show me what a stud you are?” you ask, spreading your legs to reveal your dark, lewd panties. There’s a glint of amusement in his eye, which soon turns into a toothy grin as he runs his finger along the damp slit. “Fuck,”

“You’re soaking for me already, good girl.” he tells you. He begins to rub your clit over the lace covering your flesh, and you’re immediately putty in his hands. Your legs quiver slightly, and you rush to close them, but he pries them apart before leaning in to kiss you. “Keep them open for me.” he demands before slipping his tongue between your lips.

“Haah.. haaaah~!” you whimper, his featherlight ministrations seeming like magic as he continues to tease your clit.

“Fuck,” he grunts, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties before he begins to tug. “Off. Get them off.” he demands, ordering you to wiggle on the counter until he manages to peel them from your cunt and slip them down your legs. He distracts you with a kiss as he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as he resumes circling your now bare clit. Your face is picturesque, he thinks, as your eyes become heavy and your pants are more uncontrollable.

“Are you faking this to piss me off?” he wonders. You shake your head slowly. “You’re so sensitive…”

“S-Shut up,” you bite your lip before giggling. “Haven’t gotten any in a while.”

“Well we can’t have that. Better make up for lost time.” he grins, fingers traversing from your throbbing clit to your entrance. His jaw hangs low, moaning in faux sympathy as he starts to stretch you immediately with two fingers. “You’re so tight baby, takin’ me so well.” he tells you.

He doesn’t wait for a response before his head sinks to nestle in the crook of your neck as he assaults your skin with a cacophony moans and sucks, decorating your flesh with his name in a purple and blue masterpiece.  

Your cunt squelches as he presses his fingers deeper and deeper into your gooey interior, eagerly searching for your sweet spot and hellbent on targeting it. He hears you squeak, body almost falling limp with a particularly delicious curling of his fingers. You feel his smug expression against your pulse point, but instead of mocking you, his canines gently graze against it.

“She’s so loud for me, baby. Your sloppy little pussy loves me.” he breathes. You throw your head back as he continues to delve deeper and deeper until you can no longer fight off the urge to scream his name.

“FUCK, Rin!” you cry. “There! R-Right there!”

“There, princess?” he asks, though it’s rhetorical. He already knows what you want and what he needs to do. You’re happy you goaded him. But he’s happier to know he’s proving you wrong. “You’re squeezing so tight… won’t be able to play with your pussy or my bass if you break my fingers.”

“Sto- stop. Goddddd Rin I’m gonna c-um. Gonna cum!” you warn him, as if he didn’t already know. You wrap your arms around his neck in a needy display that makes you sick, but you don’t care enough to stop. He doesn’t mind, either. Making out with you passionately, swapping spit as drool dribbles and pools from each of your mouths. His lips remain connected to yours by a single string of spit as you break away to moan through your high.

He swallows them, though. Transfixed by the feeling and pride that you’re offering your prettiest sounds for him to devour while your legs quiver violently on either side of his hand.

You throw your head back as your pussy begins to squirt and douse his fingers. He doesn’t even flinch, immediately using his free hand to swipe across your clit to extend your pleasure and further the mess spurting from the apex of your thighs.

“She really likes me, baby.” he smirks at you, an expression so smarmy you’d punch him if he hadn’t made you feel so good. “You came so fast for me.”

“You’re welcome.” you giggle, leaning forward to kiss him. “I got what I came for so I’m gonna leave now.” you tell him as you pretend to free yourself of his hold. He shakes his head, lower lip tugged by his teeth as he tries to supress a smile.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Nowhere near through with you yet.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[planetpedri]

GAVI! GAVI! GAVI! fluff to angst perhaps where it’s their anniversary but something comes up on his part where he forgets to tell her he can’t make it so she’s left at the restaurant alone.. PERHAPS A TWO PARTER???? Lmk.

Too much to ask — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was your first anniversary. You’d been gushing over it to your friends for the past week, and it was finally here. So why was he not? You waited thirty minutes.. an hour.. an hour and a half and yet he still hadn’t arrived. It’s not until you receive a text asking why you weren’t home that it fully clicks. He’d forgotten.

Word count: 1.12k

Disclaimer/s - Angst, hurt/slightcomfort, arguing, ect.

A/N: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND REQUESTS! pt2’s are annoying so i just ended up making it a hopeful ending!

You’d been waiting approximately ten minutes for your boyfriend to show up. You had both agreed to reserve the perfect spot at the restaurant you went for your first date a whole year ago.

You sat giddily in your chair, thanking the waitress as she brought you wine and water as you’d asked. It was then you noticed he had yet to arrive and it was ten past six. He was late.

Brushing it off as traffic, you sip on your water, trying to swallow the bitter taste of unease. Surely it was just traffic.

Twenty minutes later, and he was still a no show. The waitress had come back twice in that time to see if you were ready to order which you’d had to promptly explain your boyfriend was running late. You’d sent him many texts asking where he was, all that went ignored.

You looked foolish. Being stood up on an anniversary date.

An hour now.

An hour he’d been late. Your mind ran to the worst possible scenario’s, so you nervously pick up your phone and open the Find My app.

Clicking on his location, your eyebrows furrow. He was at practice still? Your body stiffened as your brain wracked itself trying to find an excuse.

Maybe he was just taking a while to get ready! Wrong.

A text appears at the top of your screen, making your whole heart shatter.

Pablo❤️: I’m just leaving practice some of us guys stayed late.. Where are you?

Your eye twitched. Genuinely twitched. Because what the fuck?

Ignoring his text, you stand from your table and motion the waitress over, explaining in short sentences why you needed to pay and leave as quickly as possible. She understood completely, the look of pity on her face only fueled the tears that slipped from you eyes the second you stepped back into your car.

Staying there for a few minutes you try to recollect yourself when you get a phone call. Glancing at the caller ID, your annoyance only grows as you press decline, knowing if you answered now you’d say things you’d later regret.

The drive back to yours and Gavi’s shared apartment was fifteen minutes and the whole time you practiced things you’d say to him without losing your cool. Of course the second you did see him, you’d forget it all.

The elevator moved slowly the second you got into it, as if it knew you needed that extra time to cool off. The put-put pace only pissed you off more as you just wanted to go inside, shower, and sleep.

Unfortunately, none of that was going to happen as you come face to face with your boyfriend the second you open the door.

A look of annoyance flashes across your face when you see the concern in his eyes briefly dissipate when his eyes roam your outfit.

“Shit.” He mumbles, realization hitting him at full force. “Babe—“

“Oh save it.” You scoff, rapidly taking off your heels and throwing them aside as you storm toward your bedroom, ignoring the pleads of your boyfriend behind you.

Your name slipping past his lips in pleas the further you walked away, only stopping when you swivel around on your bare heel. “I don’t want to fucking hear your lame excuses.” Your chest heaves and falls as you collect yourself. “Do you know how stupid I looked? Being stood up like that? Do you?”

Pinching his lips together, Gavi’s eyes dart to his feet. “I’m sorry! I forgot to tell you I couldn’t make it.”

“How do you just.. forget that? Is it too much to ask for you to simply care?” You scoff, venom dripping from your every word the more you spoke.

Taking a few steps in your direction, Gavi looks back up at you with those big doe eyes that you’d fallen in love with, that you continued to fall in love with despite how many times he pushed your buttons.

Before he can speak, you cut him off. “Whatever. I’m going to shower.” You snap, turning back around only to be stopped by a firm hand grasping your wrists.

With all his strength, he pulls you back to him, his hand letting go of you only to wrap around your back. At first you’d tried to squirm out of his grasp, but clearly to no avail as his grip only tightened. So there you stood, fuming silently with your fists clenching at your sides as one of his hands rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs over and over again. His head dipped near your ear as he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. I’m over it.” You huff, prying his arms from you. Taking the new freedom, you make your break for the bathroom, sending him a short glare as if to silently force him to stay away.

Gavi’s lips form a thin line, his doe eyes narrowing into frustration. “Baby, please don’t do this, let’s talk.”

You were already halfway down the hallway by then, hesitating slightly before you open the bathroom door and lock it behind you.

Later, while cozied up in bed, you finally feel the weight of your boyfriend behind you. There’s a distance between you two, one both uncomfortable but also needed. Your eyes clamp shut tighter in a weak attempt to fall asleep.

You feel his eyes boring holes into your head, which makes it all the harder to fall asleep. Gavi shifts about a dozen times, not used to having to sleep without you near him.

He whispers your name, beckoning you to look at him. “Come on, don’t fall asleep mad.” Gavi begs, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth.

Shifting around to face him, your eyes narrow. “Now why shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He says, eyebrows knitting together in worry. “Anything you want is yours. Anything.”

You really wanted to stay mad. You deserved to stay mad. “Anything?” You repeat.

“Anything.” He nods, a small sense of hope flooding him. “Just name it.”

“Date night, once a week for the next month. I don’t care how busy you are. And! You bring me to the book shop at the mall and you get to buy me any books I want.” Your eyes narrow into slits, “then, we can talk about forgiveness.”

Gavi suppresses a smile, “consider it done.” He waits a moment, “so can I…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn over. “Yeah, I suppose.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he’s pressed against your back, arm draped around you, and pulling you impossibly close. Sleep calling to him far quicker than it did you.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[yaut-jaknowit]

Okay!

Gawtin x female reader

Reader doesn’t have the best experiences with flames, due to a accident, somehow their home manages to catch on fire, while Gawtin was away, and reader risks her life it to protect the little one, gaining a bad burn mark in the end

(I don’t remember Gawtin Childs name 😥)

Fighting the Impossible

Pairings: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2864

Summary: A day like any other. Gawtin is out during a hunt for dinner. You are left with Qui'oky and happily watch over the little one in your care. Yet, when danger strikes, your worst enemy, you have to act. Fast.

Author Note: My inbox has already gotten pretty full! I'm going to try to knock some out this weekend since I do have it off. I can't believe you forgot about little Qui'oky! Such a sweetie! (I'm just joking! I'm having to have things written down to remember somethings in my stories now. There's so much going on now!)

P.s. It's my birthday! I'm one year older. Yay! (I got called old by the teenagers at work a couple of days ago. I'm sad now.)

Masterlist

Ao3

One thing about living on an alien planet with a different atmosphere is the weather. The jungle takes up a vast majority of Yautja Prime. It spans on this continent from ocean to ocean practically. With the jungle, comes varying weather. Like now.

A lightning storm had sudden sprouted to life an hour after Gawtin had left. This was nothing new. Plenty of storms have rolled through with little issues. The cottage like house was built sturdy, just like a Yautja. It has held for plenty of years. There was no reason to fret.

Qui’oky waddled around the house, chasing something imaginary. Similar to human children, they have an imaginary mind. It was adorable while the little one played in his own mind, making things up as he went. He would babble in Yautja. You tried to listen to the words but only a mother could understand what he was saying.

A gentle smile graced your features when the child came racing around the corner. You had to catch him before he ran straight into your knees. “Whoa, kiddo!” You picked up Qui’oky and sat him down on your hip. “What’s happening, Oky?” The toddler blabbered the same nonsense before and reached for your face.

With his arms open, you dive into his chest and blow raspberries. He squeals and writhes in your grasp. You keep it up until your lungs are out of air. Then, he’s set back down on the ground. Qui’oky looked at you for a moment before returning his fully sprint waddle around the main area of the house. You laughed to yourself and shook your head. The kid was adorable, it was hard not to.

You walked into the kitchen and pulled some dried meat. Gawtin has told you the name of the creature before. After so many different names of the Yautja species, it was starting to remember which was which. Yautja Prime was extremely diverse with so many subspecies and whatnot. Don’t get you started on the ocean itself.

The meat was delicious. Gawtin is a great cook and loves to pamper with whatever is the catch for the week or day. You find yourself in the living room again, on a spacious couch meant for a Yautja, not a human. A very light, breathable blanket was pulled onto your lap. It would be too hot for a normal blanket.

A sketch pad and pencil were pulled onto your lap as well. After a long day of reading and drawing, you decided the best way to treat yourself is to… draw some more. With snacks, of course. You hum away, pencil in hands, as you planned out a painting to defeat the next you were feeling it.

Ideas poured out onto the page. The storm outside only grew worse and worse. Trees shuttered and groan with powerful gusts against window. Sheets of rain battered the windows, attempting to break down the glass. In the house that Gawtin built long ago, it stood mighty strong, like the Yautja herself.

Thunder cracked like a whip outside and caused the walls to tremble and shake. You jolted at the first sounds of the storm. Qui’oky stopped his running and glanced over at you, gauging your reaction. Like Gawtin has taught you, you steeled your nerves immediately. A strong façade falling upon your features the second he looked at you. You weren’t scared of the storm but if he saw you jump, he’ll follow in your footsteps. To be a strong hunter, that was a bad trait.

Hesitantly, Oky started up his run again. His bright blue eyes were on you for a few more seconds before he fully focused on whatever played in his mind. You were more than relieved. If he had started to cry, it wouldn’t be until Gawtin returned from her hunt that he would quiet down. Gawtin says he’s spoiled because of you. She does little to stop you though. Maybe a little human in him won’t hurt. It could make him into a better hunter in the end.

When another roar of thunder rolled through the jungle, you were more prepared for it. Oky’s blue gaze snapped over to you but found you undisturbed, eating at the jerky. He was quicker to return to his game. You continued to doddle away through your sketch book. Different eyes popping in your mind.

All these ideas have been boiling for some time. You had lost the motivation to draw as of late. Today, it feels like the switch had been flipped.

As the page filled, more cracks and roars filled the electrified air. Your nervousness entered the air as well. Gawtin was out there, baring the brunt of the storm. The hunt had to have been cancelled. No animal would stay out in this kind of weather. No matter what creature on this planet.

The end of your pencil was covered in bite marks. Your focus drifted off of the current page to gaze out one of the windows.

Being this far inland, you don’t believe this was hurricane. The weather was ferocious but it was unheard of a hurricane or tropical storm to get this far into the jungle. You continued to gnaw on the eraser while your eyes tracked the weather.

Some time later, close to nightfall, the rain finally relented. That’s when Oky climbed up next to you on the couch and snuggled against your side. The sweet child chittered and yawned. His own day had been long and tiring. Those imaginary friends won’t chase themselves.

All the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your stomach dropped to the floor. An instinct Gawtin helped hone blared a loud alarm. You were on your feet and hauled the child with you the moment it happened. Your gaze pinned on a window. Something was wrong.

Qui’oky whined and writhed in your grasp, demanding to be put down. The parent instinct in your to protect the child bared its head. You held onto him tightly, still watching closely.

Smoke. White smoke. Barely visible with the dying suns. But you always know the signs of smoke, the signs of a fire.

You were rooted to the spot, breath caught in your throat. It took Oky’s claws into your arm to get your attention.

Fire!

The only thing on your mind was to run. Protect the child. You tightened your arms around Oky and began to sprint towards the door. It was ripped open, slamming into the hidden pocket with a loud bang. You were out of the dwelling the very next second, forcing yourself to dash out of there.

In the air, the heavy smell of smoke was pungent. It took everything in you not to freeze on the spot. Memories flashed behind your eyes, reminding you how deadly a fire could be. You knew the dangers of what a fire could do.

That day, you had lost everything. Everything.

Today, you wouldn’t allow harm to touch Oky.

Qui’oky was heavy. The two year old was bigger than a human toddler. At least a foot taller and thirty pounds heavier. The adrenaline in your veins was powerful. It pushed you past your limits as tree flew past you. Foliage was nothing but a green blur in your vision. All you knew was to get away.

Bziut-ty’s small cottage came into view. You were on the verge of skidding to a stop to make sure Gawtin’s sister wasn’t inside when you spotted her form ahead of you on the trail. The older Yautja’s eyes found yours, relief flooding them. She had been helping another person in the village. Two children were hanging off of her hips.

The large female motioned with her head to follow her. You instantly race up to her, already panting.

“Where’s Gawtin?” she demands and glances over your head, finding no one following you. Gawtin’s home was the furthest from the main area of the village.

“She was out hunting,” you panted and lugged Oky back up further on your side. Your head turned back towards where the plumes of smoke were towering over the massive trees. Trees that easily rivaled the red woods back on your home planet.

Your heart dropped. The bright light of fire was gaining as the wind pushed it into your direction. You could’ve broken down at the sight. A sight that haunted your dreams and waking hours. You stumbled backwards and accidently bumped into Bziut-ty.

The brown female grunted. A dark look passed over her features. You hadn’t thought about it besides the fire. But, you trusted Gawtin. She’s skilled. This jungle is where she grew up in. There’s plenty of lakes and rivers for her to take shelter in. You had to trust in her to save herself while you did the same thing with her child.

“She’ll be fine,” you reassured Bziut-ty or else you’ll drag yourself down.

Bziut-ty’s bright eyes looked down at you. The Yautja nodded her head. She, too, knew Gawtin had the skills needed to survive the wildfire.

“We are heading to the lake. Follow us.” With that, she turned and began to race down the trail again. There were no other Yautjas. It was just the five of you. The three children, Bziut-ty, and yourself. Everyone else had already made their escape.

The lake that Bziut-ty talked about isn’t far from the village. It’s where mothers would take their young so they could learn to swim. It’s plenty large to hold everyone in the village in case of situations like this. You knew where it was. So, you followed a well known path, easily paved from thousands upon thousands walking through here.

Your heart raced, thundering in your ears with each step you took. Oky continued to get heavier and heavier, dragging you down. Bziut-ty was lost from sight, blending into the tree line. You couldn’t blame her. She had two children to look after. They may not be her own, but they where her responsibility.

One look over your shoulder had the world’s end nearing. Your jaw dropped at the sight. The fire! It was licking at your heels. The wind feeding it more and more. You gasped and tried to quicken your speed but the energy in your body was coming to an end. Sobs left your lips. Life as you know it would be gone. It would be you this time to meet your end in a fiery way.

When the path began to curve, you were forced to continue forward. Your feet left the safety of the trail. The unforgiving ground of the forest was harsh on your bare feet. Somehow, you find it in yourself to push forward.

Heat lashed at your back. The fire never leaving you alone. It was like it came back with a vengeance. It hadn’t gotten you that night and now it was back. Ready to consume you.  

This couldn’t be. Your lungs gulped down the receding oxygen in the air. Each breath getting harder to consume. Your head felt light. The little oxygen your body already fought for in the atmosphere was disappearing. But, you kept running, kept fighting. You may not be a warrior but you can still fight.

Ahead of you, you noticed a fallen tree. A young one of the massive trees that made up the jungle. The center hollowed out. That was your only hope. Your speed didn’t change. It felt like it was faltering, allowing for the fire to catch up. You pushed passed the ache in your bones, the need to stop and catch your breath. There wasn’t a chance to.

The log grew closer. You cradled Oky in one, tired arm and dove into the space barely big enough to fit the two of you. You shove Oky in front of you and forced him into the tight space.

Splinters shoved into your skin with each shuffle further into the log. You bite down the pain. Pain was fine. It meant you were still alive, still fighting not only for you life but for Oky’s as well. The poor toddler was sobbing due to your rough handling and the splinters that were intruding into his flesh as well.

His cries didn’t die out. He was alive. He was okay. He has to be. You wouldn’t allow the fire take anymore. It could take the house. That can be rebuilt. But you won’t let it take Gawtin or Oky from you. No more.

As the fire roared over you, your felt the sweltering heat lick at your back. The inside of the log barely able to protect you from the embers following you. It made it hard to breath. You were on the verge of passing out. The lack of oxygen finally catching up. Your body could no longer fight.

A stinging burn on your back is the first thing you awoke to. You hissed and squirmed only to freak out when there was limited space. Your eyes snapped open to find the space dark, barely any light filtering in behind you. Through the darkness, you spotted a familiar form softly napping. Your fingers brushed against his cheek. He was alive.

Relief flooded you. You sagged in your sitting position and started to sob. The fire. It hadn’t won this time.

The worst of it was over but now, you had to get out of here. You patted at Oky’s cheek until his eyes fluttered open. “Hey, sweetie. We need to move. Your mom is probably out looking for us.” If she survived.

No. She had to. You couldn’t lost her too.

Oky groaned and weakly sat up. “Mama?” he babbled in Yautja. You nodded your head with a timid smile. “I hungy.” A light snort escaped you. Food was the last thing on your mind.

The two of your began to crawl backwards. Both your knees and elbows ached terribly. Splinters had made their way into your skin. It hurt to move. All you wanted to do was pass out again but you forced yourself to stand up on the outside of the log.

Destruction met your vision. The jungle around you was ash, black and white. It was dead silent, as the jungle mourned over the loss of its lush green foliage and towering trees. You glanced up to find the tops of the trees mostly fine. Some were lucky, others weren’t.

Oky stopped on the edge of the log to find the same sight. “Oh no,” he muttered and looked he was about to sob again. His home had been wiped out in a single night. You solemnly scooped the kid up and hoisted him onto your hip. He felt heavier than ever. But the ground… you didn’t know if there still hotspots. You would happily take the burn over him.

Both of you started the long trip back home. Your heart directed you where to go as if it knew where the ashes of your home once laid. You could cry at the sight.

When you reached the outskirt of the village, you saw the burnt down homes of families or other Yautjas. You noticed some of them had come back to salvage what they could. None of them you knew personally. So, you continued on, pushing towards the last house on the trail.

Bziut-ty’s home was gone, just like the rest. The female hadn’t been one of the ones to stand outside of her lost house. She survived. She had to.

It wasn’t much longer until you came upon the ashes of a place you once called home. There, on path right before the house, stood an all too familiar form. Your legs nearly faulted underneath you, staggering only a few more feet before they gave out.

Pain shot through you. Every injury on your body jerking from the fall. A broken cry left your lips. Tears clawed at your eyes and fell down your cheeks, leaving behind sticky trails.

Gawtin’s head snapped over at you. Then, the green giant was upon you in a moment’s notice. She knelt down in front of you, hands cupping your dirty cheeks. Her mandibles move quickly, chittering to you and Oky. You weakly offer her child to her, your arms ready to give out. There was no need to be strong anymore. Not with Gawtin right in front of you to carry you.

You cried. Hard. The pain. From your home turned into ashes before your very eyes, to the burns that stung on your back, to the splinters embedded into your skin. You placed a hand on her thigh to lean on her, sobbing uncontrollable. Gawtin scooped your up in her free arm and held you close to.

Purrs poured from her throat. “It is okay, little artist. You are okay. You both are,” she soothed in deep rumble of a voice. Your arms shook as your wrapped them around her neck, securing yourself to her. She lifted you a little higher with her arm under you and tugged closer as well.

Everyone was alive. Everything will be okay. Homes could be rebuilt. People lost couldn’t. Your family was okay.

[egcdeath]

out in the open

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: your wedding night doesn’t go as smoothly as you expect it to. succession au - tomshiv adjacent (previous parts: part 1, part 2, part 3)

word count: 8.8k

warnings: failmarriage, fluff in the beginning, cheating, angst, jealousy, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol and smoking, suggestive content, insecurity, patrick is kinda the worst in this. he does get better though.

author’s note: full disclaimer things are pretty angsty and they only get angstier from here. cheating is a major plot point from this point forward. there will be a few happier moments but it’s mostly bad vibes and tension from this point on.

i say this with every fic i post in this universe but i truly could not have written this without the help of my succession anon!! weddingnightgate (WNG) is such a big moment in this au and they really helped me get my thoughts in order and helped me world build. i hope you all enjoy the upcoming pain!

When you were young, you always dreamed about your wedding. You fantasized about a huge venue somewhere halfway around the world that would easily fit all of your closest friends and family members and of celebrity guests who would give you well wishes for the marriage and smiled at you in spite of their envy at your beautiful event. You imagined a gorgeous, intricate dress with a train so long that you’d need assistance going down the aisle, a cake the size of your tallest guest, and a groom who was as handsome as he was loving, pressing the promise of True Love’s Kiss onto your lips after he read you his vows.

Maybe your enthusiasm for weddings was fueled by a few too many movies where the princess found her prince charming and lived happily ever after with him, but you still fell in love with the idea of love, and the thought that a wedding should be as beautiful as the love itself was.

You would never forget the first wedding you attended, despite being so young that you shouldn’t have really recalled it. You somehow managed to worm your way into being the flower girl at your aunt’s wedding, skipping excitedly down the aisle of the beachside venue, tossing flowers with reckless abandon. As you watched the rest of the ceremony from the safety of your mother’s hip, you couldn’t help but to imagine yourself being the one to walk down the aisle someday. 

Much like your first wedding memory, you also couldn’t forget the first time you learned about divorce. Though you were young, the memory of your best friend crying next to you during recess as she sobbed out the news that her parents were splitting forever stuck out in your mind. You’d been fed the idea that love was strong and everlasting for so long, that the very notion that there were some things that love couldn’t withstand rocked you to your core. 

From that point on, you became more grounded in your approach to love. Love was rarely a fairytale, and it was naive for you to assume that your future wedding would be one either. 

As the years went by, you grew more realistic about your expectations for the future. You found a boyfriend who you dated throughout the latter half of your undergraduate years and through your time in business school, and fully expected to settle down with him—though you knew you’d be settling in the most literal sense. While he was a stable figure in your life, he was boring, and his aspirations in life for both you and himself didn’t align at all with what you saw yourself doing. He wanted a wife, and you wanted to make a name for yourself doing the work that was meaningful to you.

When he got down on one knee in front of you, you realized that you had two options in front of you: follow your own dreams or follow his. 

Naivety be damned, you chose yourself and never looked back. 

In your pursuit of making your non-love related aspirations come true, you abandoned all hope that your pipe-dream of a fantasy wedding would ever come to fruition. It occasionally felt like your hopes were incompatible—to be a successful businesswoman meant giving up all prospects of a romantic life. It seemed like everyone you encountered was put off by your lack of work-life balance, or wanted to hunt you for sport and turn you into a trophy wife. 

You’d practically given up all hope by the time you met Patrick, fully expecting to be able to use him for a brief fling and a connection to get into his family’s company. What you weren’t expecting was to find someone whose company you genuinely enjoyed, who understood you on a level you hadn’t experienced with anyone else, and a love that occasionally left you wondering if you were a protagonist in the movies you loved watching as a girl. 

If someone told you that years after meeting Patrick, that one day you would be gazing into his eyes with tears in yours as you listened to his vows, or telling him that you do take him to be your husband, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death did you two part.

Your wedding ceremony felt straight out of your girlish dreams, with Patrick’s beautiful family castle serving as the venue, paparazzi-worthy guests, a dress that felt like a direct product of your wildest imagination, and a groom that seemed to be as close to a prince charming as reality could get. 

You were on cloud nine throughout the ceremony, basking in every single moment. You felt like you were floating by the time you got to the reception, your brain in the clouds as you and your now-husband cut your massive cake and gave toasts. 

It was all a blur in the best way possible, your elation making what you thought might be an embarrassing moment of a first dance exciting, and the subsequent socializing with guests substantially more bearable. 

What was slightly less bearable was the speed at which you were separated from your husband, the two of you occasionally catching the others eye from across the room, but otherwise being separated from surprisingly demanding guests who wanted to wish you luck on your marriage or excitedly share how amazing they found the ceremony to be. 

Occasionally, you were able to squeeze in a brief moment with your spouse, bringing him a flute of champagne and momentarily pulling him away from an exceptionally chatty shareholder, but you seemed to be frequently whisked away from each other. 

After what felt like a lifetime apart from each other, you felt the familiar, comforting warmth of Patrick’s hand on your lower back as he approached you from behind. When he announced to the extended family members standing across from you that he needed a moment alone with you, you almost leapt with joy. Nothing seemed more appealing than a private conversation with him after a long night of socializing with friends and colleagues. 

It almost felt ironic that during an event that should’ve been focused on the two of you as a pair, you were separated and kept apart by people with business pitches and opposing interests, excited to hop onto whatever opportunity your union might bring them. 

Patrick took you by surprise as he led you up the stairs and to your bedroom. It seemed a little early to begin your wedding night festivities, but if he was really that enthusiastic about it, you were certain that you could share some of his excitement. 

“Thanks for getting us out of there,” you commented as you shut the door behind you. “So much for not talking about work at the wedding. I guess it’s too much to ask for one day to celebrate you being my husband before talking about the business again.”

You walked over to the vanity, preparing to touch up your makeup. You shot a glance over at your partner, who cautiously sat himself down on your bed, fidgeting with his hands as he did so. Not paying him any mind, you began to reapply your lipstick in the mirror and looked at his reflection, catching that he seemed to be in deep thought, but not thinking too much of it. It was probably something a shareholder told him. Maybe his sister was planning yet another attempt at a hostile takeover of the business. 

“Husband. Wow, you’re my husband now. That feels so crazy to say. Husband, husband, husband,” you mused, a ball of excited energy.  “Well, husband, what did you pull me in to talk about? Is it Sherry’s dress? It’s really hideous. I can’t believe she would wear something like that to our wedding,” you continued to ramble. “Or do you want a sneak peak of what I’ve got going on under this dress?”

You were shocked to find Patrick mostly unresponsive to your rapid words. He was never one to turn down the opportunity to gossip about his social circle or flirt with you. You pulled your attention away from yourself in the mirror and turned your head back to look at your husband, only to be met with a mostly unreadable expression, apart from the hint of a sad smile on his face. 

Suddenly, things didn’t feel so fun. For some unexplained reason, you felt a small pit appear in the depths of your stomach. While you didn’t know exactly what was wrong, something obviously didn’t feel right. There was no reason for your partner to be looking as unsettled as he did on his own wedding night. 

“You’re not having second thoughts already, are you?” you stood up and began to approach him from where he was sitting on the bed, making it more apparent to you that his brows were drawn together in what could only be the beginning of a frown. 

“Of course not,” he assured you, though guilt was written all over his face. You weren’t sure how you should interpret your husband looking like a child who just broke an expensive vase on your wedding night, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “But I need to tell you something.”

“What?” you laughed nervously, the small pit that appeared in your stomach growing into a slightly larger pit. As much as you wanted to dismiss it as nothing, the heavy tension hanging in the air warned you that the odds of his confession being nothing were growing slimmer and slimmer with each passing moment.  

“Uh,” he paused as if he was considering his next words very carefully—almost as if he didn’t want to say them at all. You desperately wanted him to speak, rather than keep you hanging. With your nerves exponentially growing with every passing second, you began to feel like if he didn’t say anything soon, you might throw up all over your reception dress.  

“Patrick, please spit it out. You’re kinda scaring me,” you could already feel yourself growing upset, despite the fact that he hadn’t said a single word to indicate what was going on with him. Your heart quickened in your chest as you anticipated his next words, despite not having a clue about what might come out of his mouth.  

“We always said that if something happened, we could handle it like adults,” the statement was vague and simple, yet Patrick seemed to be choking it out. His cryptic message rattled around in your brain as you desperately searched for meaning in them. Before you could even begin to ask him what he meant, you registered the dismissive, callous language. 

Though he didn’t say it often, he had confused you with those very words before—the verbiage alarmingly reminiscent of what he told you before your bachelorette party, or when you brought up the lack of an infidelity clause in his prenup. 

If anything ever happened with anyone else, we could both handle it. We’re adults and we can handle things like adults.

Though his words were curious, you dismissed them at the time, never expecting that to be an issue. Of all of your problems with Patrick—his difficulty expressing his emotions, his complicated relationship with his family, his lack of experience in love—you never expected infidelity to be one of those problems. 

You swallowed, your saliva feeling thick and poisonous as it slowly crept down your throat. “Honey, what do you mean?”

Patrick didn’t speak, looking down at the pristinely folded sheets in front of him rather than at you. “I’m sorry,” was all that he managed to get out. 

You looked at Patrick blankly, waiting for him to tell you that whatever you were assuming wasn’t true or that he was pulling some sort of cruel prank on you. Instead, all you were met with was the sound of blood urgently rushing through your ears and the faint bassline of whatever song the DJ was playing at your reception. 

“You know that love is complicated for me,” he looked in your direction, but couldn’t sustain eye contact with you. “Can we be adults about this?”

Once it became clear to you what exactly Patrick was trying to tell you, your knees gave out on you, the rest of your body overwhelmed with the unfathomable information that your brain was trying to process. Patrick cheated on you—and he was telling you just hours after you got married. 

The truth of the situation sucked the air right out of your lungs and the strength right out of your body. Your knees buckled under you, and you desperately seeked out anything you could sit on. You settled on the foot of the bed, across from where your husband nervously sat. 

“Fuck,” you dug the palms of your hands into your eyes, surely smudging the makeup on your eyelids as you attempted to collect your thoughts. “Who was it?”

“It didn’t mean anything to me,” he pathetically attempted to explain away. It all sounded like gibberish to you. For all you knew, your husband was speaking a totally different language to you. 

Despite your question and Patrick’s non-answer, you somehow felt like you knew exactly who he’d been with. The answer was all over his discomfort when he saw you talking to the woman without him by your side, and the way she sized you up and attempted to psych you out of marrying Patrick not even 24 hours ago. 

“Was it Tashi?” you asked, not even listening to his empty words and keeping your face frighteningly neutral. You spoke the words like you were playing a round of Guess Who, calm and even despite the budding feeling of dread in your stomach. 

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. His deafening silence was answer enough

“Can I kick her out?” you asked with an alarmingly stable tone, still mostly unable to process this information, but knowing that it wasn’t good. 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, head still hung and unable to make eye contact with you. 

As you took in the truly depressing sight in front of you—your husband’s hunched over posture, a shame so strong that he couldn’t even look at you, and his clipped, short answers—you couldn’t deny that you were tempted to comfort him. In any other situation, if Patrick was feeling a fraction of the negative emotion he seemed to be feeling in that moment, you would instantly be at his side, holding his hand reassuringly or holding him close in a way that told him that if no one else was there for him, you would be, but you weren’t sure you could legitimize his bad behavior with such a response. 

Instinctually, you reached out to touch him like you’d done a thousand times before, giving him a hug before a big event or spooning him after a family member said something that got under his skin, but you instantly reprimanded yourself. Despite how sad he looked, Patrick was the one who hurt you. You were the one who deserved comfort. 

You opted to pat Patrick’s back instead, a strange and impersonal action. For a moment, you felt less like his wife and more like a practically estranged family member, not sure how to greet you after meeting you for the first time three Thanksgivings ago. 

Your husband barely reacted to the stiff action, only looking at you wordlessly with glossed-over eyes. You got up from the foot of the bed and left wordlessly and neutrally, a robot whose only orders were to get out of the bedroom and shut the door behind you. 

The moment the door closed, the next goal settled into your mind—you couldn’t let Tashi spend another second in the venue, socializing with your family and drinking the wine that your parents so kindly provided to the wedding, as if she hadn’t been partaking in an affair with your husband. 

You felt half a bride and half a zombie as you left the confines of the bedroom and wandered the hallways. You were stone faced as you made your way back to the reception, trying to wrap your head and heart around devastating information that was shared with you at the most inopportune time possible. 

You made a slow march down the stairs, movement hindered by your dress, and imagined what you might say to Tashi once you saw her. You should’ve known something was off from the start. You should’ve trusted the bad feeling you had when she sized you up at the bar, smirking at you like the cat who got the cream before feeding you anecdotes about how sleazy your husband used to be for no apparent reason. You should’ve trusted that feeling when Patrick rushed over to pull you away.

You wished you paid attention when Patrick faintly smelled of feminine perfume when you surprised him by coming back from a business trip earlier than anticipated, or when you noticed a bracelet that didn’t belong to you sitting on your coffee table, one that disappeared the very next day. It was so easy to write the signs off at the time–the fragrance of your personal chef and the jewelry of one of his sisters–but it no longer felt that simple. Patrick was a lot of things, but you never expected that a cheater was one of those things.

The thought of Patrick with someone else made you nauseous, especially in your own home. You faintly wondered if they’d fucked in your bed or on the couch. If the answer was yes to either, you desperately wanted to burn the pieces of furniture. In fact, that would be the first thing you set out to do when you returned home after your honeymoon. Maybe you would even beg Patrick to move to a new place, one not haunted by the memories of him and another woman. 

That was, if your relationship even survived through the honeymoon. Let alone the night. You didn’t have a clue what your next steps would be. Would you be the fool who stays with a man who proved himself to be disloyal? Or would you be the fool who offered herself to the wrath of one of the most powerful families in the world? You would lose your husband, your job, and your livelihood in one fell swoop, surely being banished back to your family home in Minnesota, destined to be a receptionist at your father’s law firm for the rest of your life. 

The entire situation felt surreal in the worst possible way. You couldn’t believe that while you were dealing with the aftermath of this information, Tashi was waltzing around at your reception. More than that, you couldn’t believe the information itself: Patrick cheated. Your fiancé cheated. Your husband cheated on you. 

The same Patrick who became a groomzilla, laser-focused on giving you your dream wedding, cheated. The same man who confessed that he didn’t know what love felt like before he met you cheated on you. Your husband, who went out of his way to do anything to make you happy, even at the expense of his very powerful family, hadn’t been loyal to you. 

None of it made sense. Maybe you would walk back into the room and your guests would jump out from behind tables and reveal that this was all a cruel joke—a little hazing as you officially became a Zweig—their laughter filling up the room at the thought that you would ever believe something as ridiculous as Patrick cheating on you. 

You bit back bile as you walked into the room, the party continuing on the same way it had before you left and before you reentered—no prank to be found. The cacophony of loud music and the chatter of your guests filling your ears once more—what felt fun and exciting just moments before, now being far too overstimulating for someone trying to process information that could fundamentally alter the course of their relationship. You did your best to block out all of the extra noise and focus on your goal at hand. 

Find Tashi. Send her home.

You weren’t sure what you would actually do when you saw her. Would you yell at her? Slap her for being a homewrecker? Cry at the sight of her? Laugh at the absurdity of your husband telling you that he’d been having an affair with her on your wedding night?

Peripherally, you heard someone call your name excitedly, only slightly pulling you out of your trance. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to acknowledge whatever excited friend or family member as your eyes set on your target. Tashi Duncan, Patrick’s coworker and ex-girlfriend.

Where you admired her beauty and confidence just a day before, you found you now resented every positive aspect about her. As she stood by a table and talked to one of Patrick’s sisters, surely bored out of her mind by the delusional ramblings about his sister someday being the president, she nodded and smiled diplomatically. 

As you really began to think about it, you realized that she was the perfect candidate to be Patrick’s wife. She came from a background similar to his, his sisters liked her far more than they liked you—though that didn’t mean much—and physically, she seemed to be exactly your husband’s type. 

Part of you wondered if she was feeling as miserable as you were; if she’d spent the day imagining your wedding to be her own, if her own jealousy was blinding her the way that yours currently was blinding you, or if she’d begged Patrick not to marry you during their work meeting the previous night. The other part of you wondered if she thought of you as pathetic as you currently felt—a stupid woman so blinded by her own love that she overlooked every beaming, bright red flag.

Your pace quickened as you walked towards Tashi, heels clicking annoyingly as they marked your pace. As you made your way to the table, you found yourself growing more anxious, the first real feeling you’d felt since Patrick shared with you the truth about his infidelity.

“Hey,” you greeted Tashi and Patrick’s sister, voice surprisingly even for how agitated you were. “Mind if I chat with Tashi?” 

“Go ahead,” Cornelia shrugged. “Let’s stay in touch?” she asked Tashi, who politely agreed and watched the other woman walk off. 

Tashi opened her mouth to speak to you, presumably to comment on something asinine about the wedding, or to make an observation about your wedding that you’d already heard a thousand times that night. If you weren’t so upset, you would make a bet with yourself on whether she’d tell you how beautiful the wedding was, or how beautiful you and your husband looked at the altar.

“Your housing for the night fell through,” you explained in a very level tone. It wasn’t the best excuse, but it was what came out of your mouth.

“Oh?” she asked, sounding more than a little skeptical, before lifting her drink to her lips. “Do you know where else I might be able to find lodging at this hour?”

“No,” you replied quickly and with ease. “Actually, it’d probably be best if you just went home now.”

“Home like…?” she trailed off and eyed you curiously. 

“Like back to New York. I’m sure you can find a flight.”

She laughed in slight disbelief. “You realize this is a work function for me, right? I have work to do.”

“I’m sure you can do that work back home,” you dismissed, not backing down. By now, it was clear that Tashi was putting together the pieces of what you knew. In fact, you could pinpoint the exact moment when it occurred to her why the two of you were having this conversation in the first place.

Maybe it was the lack of your now-husband beside you, or the barely concealed emotion on your face. Regardless of what was your biggest tell on the situation, you continued to stare her down, resenting the way her lips shifted into a small smile, as if she still had the upper hand and knew something that you didn’t. It was almost as if she found the whole ordeal to be a little amusing, which only bothered you more. 

“No need to make a scene at your wedding. I’ll be on my way.” She lifted her glass up once again to finish the drink off, but you stopped her. 

You returned intense eye contact with her as you took the stemware right out of her hands and put it to your own lips, finishing the drink in a few large gulps. Though your action was impulsive, it felt like somewhat of a necessity. You desperately needed the liquid distraction from your less-than-ideal situation, and you didn’t want to give her an excuse to linger at your party a single moment longer than she needed to. 

She continued to stare at you, her expression somewhere in the middle of being impressed and weirded out. “Alright then. Well, congratulations on the wedding.”

“Fuck off,” you spat out, turning on your heel and walking away without bothering to see if she stayed or left. 

You made your rounds around the reception, smiling and talking to your guests with a fake smile plastered on your face. The shock of Patrick’s initial confession wore off shortly after you told Tashi off, but you still couldn’t help but feel completely numb to the situation. How else were you supposed to react when you found out the love of your life was sleeping with someone else? 

You continued to man the reception on your own, occasionally scanning the room but not catching a glimpse of your husband. You wondered if he was still in your bedroom, head in his hands as he wondered if he just opened a Pandora’s box on your relationship, or if Tashi went to go find him to discuss how poorly you reacted to the information. For all you knew, the two of them could be laughing at you or having sex in your wedding bed at the same time that you attempted to pretend that everything was perfectly fine. You grew faint at the mere thought. 

Eventually, you felt a familiar hand on the small of your back, something that typically was a welcome, comforting gesture. Instead, you wanted to flinch away from his hand like it was hot. You couldn’t believe that Patrick had the nerve to touch you like everything was fine after dropping such devastating information on you. Then again, at least he wasn’t hooking up with Tashi one last time. 

Still, even under the spell of a sadness that hadn’t quite settled in yet, you leaned into his touch instinctively. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t feel as comfortable as it did a few hours ago. 

“Such a beautiful ceremony,” a family friend of Patrick’s gushed to you. “You two have something really special.”

You felt Patrick’s eyes sear into you, desperately pleading for you to look back into them and show him that everything was going to be okay. That what you had was special enough that you’d be able to move past this. Like adults, as he said to you earlier.

You weren’t so sure that you could. 

The rest of the night moved painfully slowly. Where the two of you socialized separately before his private conversation with you, he seemed to be attached to your hip now, bringing you apology offers of champagne flutes and hor d'oeuvres.

Though he pleaded with you to handle your situation like adults, you wanted to act more like a petulant child. If you had it your way, you would reject his offerings of food by tossing them onto the floor, or throw a glass of sticky alcohol in his face as if you were a Real Housewife. 

If you had it your way, Patrick wouldn’t have cheated on you in the first place, and you’d be celebrating your wedding without the baggage of uncertainty for the future of your relationship. 

As you walked through the reception, you weren’t particularly angry or sad, you just felt numb. There was a strange concession in knowing that what happened in the past already happened, and that there was no way for you to change your husband’s behavior. For a moment, you wondered if the numbness was a symptom of the shock that was Patrick’s confession, or you would feel the dull thud of nothingness for the rest of your life. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you watched the last of your guests filtered out of the venue, relieved to finally drop the façade of being a happy newlywed and to embrace the true feeling of shock that had been biting at you all night.  

Somehow managing to break away from your suddenly very clingy spouse, you wasted no time gathering an unopened bottle of wine for yourself, along with a cigarette and a lighter, which you unceremoniously exchanged with a caterer for a Venmo payment. You then headed outside to a balcony that overlooked a beautiful sprawling garden. 

You looked out on the neatly trimmed hedges and the bench where you sat with Patrick not even twenty-four hours ago and distantly thought about how perfectly the night should’ve gone. You got married at a beautiful venue, had every detail down to the positioning of napkins meticulously planned, and most importantly, were marrying someone you genuinely loved and couldn’t see yourself living without. 

It was all rather devastating now, to see how just a few words managed to ruin what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. 

You took a swig from the bottle, lamenting the fact that his affair partner had been drinking this very wine earlier that night. At the thought of Tashi, you took yet another hefty swig. 

Just as you reached for the lighter to light the cigarette you so desperately needed, Patrick burst through the doors of the balcony, slightly out of breath and sweat beading on his forehead. In between his heavy breaths, you swore you caught a sigh of relief. 

You couldn’t say that you were pleased to see him—after all, you’d escaped to the balcony to get a little time alone and to think through the night—but as you took in his dramatic entrance and disheveled appearance, it became abundantly clear to you that he’d been urgently looking for you. 

“Want some?” you asked, gesturing to the bottle. Your question was more than just an offer for a drink, but a peace treaty, offering Patrick to stay outside with you despite your more complicated feelings towards him. 

“Sure,” he agreed, still slightly out of breath. He collected himself as you passed him the bottle, locking eyes with you as he took a swig from the expensive drink. It felt like time moved a little slower as you watched his lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and the way his Adam's apple bobbed while the drink went down. 

You suddenly realized that complicated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt towards Patrick. You loved him more than anything, and you were sure that you needed him in your life—but beneath the thick layers of numbness was a reservoir of hurt, far deeper than you ever imagined you could harbor for the man. 

He passed the bottle back to you, his hands gently brushing over yours. Momentarily, you felt scandalized by the action, unsure if you should feel your cheeks heating up from the small touch or if you should flinch away from it. By the time the brief moment was over, you hadn’t done either, electing to set your gaze back over the rail instead of at your partner. 

Patrick stood silently beside you, not requesting anything more to drink or even attempting to make small talk. It seemed that he was just as aware as you were that he’d changed your entire dynamic with just a few words. You wondered if he realized just how much he’d fucked both of you by fucking someone else. 

You shivered in the cold night, your dress not providing you much coverage in the elements. If your wedding night had gone any differently, Patrick would’ve offered you his suit jacket, draping the item over your shoulders and kissing you sweetly. Then again, if the night had gone differently, you likely wouldn’t be shivering on the balcony in the first place. 

You squatted to set down the bottle on the ground and rediscovered the cigarette and lighter. Though you weren’t usually one to smoke, you desperately needed it after the shitshow that was your wedding night.  

Though you put the stick to your lips, you struggled to light the cigarette, the frigid breeze making everything slightly more difficult. It didn’t help that you hadn’t smoked since you were a teenager, giggling with your friends as you clumsily attempted and failed to light up the stick, the match pinched between your fingertips quickly burning down. The contrast between the silly memory and your far less silly reality felt jarring, to say the least.  

“Here, let me,” Patrick said softly, taking the lighter from you and cupping his hand around the tip of the cigarette. You tried not to look at him too closely as you listened to the soft clicking sound of the lighter. Though he should’ve focused on the action so he didn’t burn his finger tips or the palm of his hand blocking the wind, he didn’t seem to be able to look at anything but you. The light of the flame briefly illuminated both of your faces, momentarily giving you a better look at his sad eyes. 

You inhaled as the flame touched the tip, and turned your head to exhale the smoke, not wanting to blow it in the face of your partner or have to spend another second under the scrutiny of his intense eye contact.

Even as you looked away and into the garden below, you could feel Patrick’s eyes burning into you. You were sure that if you looked back over at him, you would see him looking particularly downtrodden, lips parted for words that were on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite say yet, and eyebrows drawn together in a way that only seemed to highlight the sadness in his eyes. 

Unspoken questions lingered in the air like the smoke from the cigarette dangling from your lips. Though you didn’t care for the smell, you were pretty sure you preferred the smoke to the questions. 

Finally, a quiet question was spoken into the air,  “Can I?” Patrick asked, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“Sure,” you replied noncommittally as you pulled the cigarette away from you and passed it to your husband. Electing to watch him instead of the unchanging garden, you observed as Patrick’s lips closed over the space where yours had just been, covering the hint of a lipstick stain that you’d left on it. After a long drag, he passed the cigarette back to you, his hand brushing softly over yours once more as you did so. 

This pattern continued, a heavy silence falling between the two of you as you shared the cigarette, your hands caressing the other’s softly.

“Here,” you murmured as you approached the filter. Instead of passing it back to Patrick, you brought it up to his lips, watching him intently as he breathed in the smoke. 

For a moment, all you could see was his face, illuminated by the burning end of the cigarette, pupils blown with something you couldn’t quite place. You weren’t sure if you wanted to ravish him right there on the balcony or push him off of it.

He blew the smoke right back into your face, electing to still share the last of the cigarette with you. You wondered if that meant anything. It probably didn’t. 

The two of you stood looking at each other, staring wordlessly as you waited for the other person to move a muscle or say something—anything. For a moment, you considered telling Patrick that you wanted an annulment. But then again, that wasn’t exactly the truth. 

“I’m going to bed,” you broke the silence with your announcement. “I need to change out of this dress.”

You wished it were that simple. You desperately wanted to scrub the day off of you and to pinch yourself until you woke up. Surely, this couldn’t be your actual wedding night. Maybe you could wake up in the morning and find that this was all a bad dream—the manifestation of anxiety before your big day.

But, as Patrick trailed behind you in the hallway as if you would disappear if you left his sight, you were pretty sure that this was the reality. You wouldn’t wake up and find that your husband had been loyal to you. 

Your return to the room was a silent one. The moment you stepped foot through the door, it felt like you were back in that horrible moment; like Patrick was moments from revealing to you that Tashi was the tip of the iceberg. 

Bile rose in your throat once more. You made a beeline to the bathroom, hoping that the change of scenery might halt your thoughts altogether. 

You stepped out of the bathroom with an entirely different mindset than what you had as you entered. Sure, your wedding night wasn’t at all what you expected it to be, but it didn’t mean that you couldn’t put it back on the right track. In the bathroom, you slipped on a silky nightie, what you hoped would be a reminder to both of you that this wasn’t any old regular night, but your wedding night. Though, with the day you just had, you weren’t so sure that either of you would be up for a particularly romantic night. You guessed it couldn’t hurt. 

You left the bathroom as a woman on a mission, your eyes set on Patrick as you crossed the bedroom floor to get to him. Though he’d been laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling like it had the secrets to the universe written on it, the sound of your entrance drew his attention over to you. You gently bit your lower lip and hoped that your face said ‘sexy’ rather than ‘so nervous you might be sick.’

His eyes stayed locked on you as you crawled into bed, and you hoped once more that the action of you moving towards him on your hands and knees didn’t appear as desperate as you felt on the inside. 

It felt like your evening consisted of one desperate plea after another: Please don’t do this to me. Please just pretend that everything’s fine. Please don’t leave me. 

He followed your lead as you trailed your hand up his arm and looked at him as seductively as you could manage before pushing him down onto the bed and straddling his lap. Distantly, you wondered how Tashi imitated things with him—if she did anything that Patrick liked more about her than you. You did your best to push that thought away, but failed miserably. 

Mechanically, you ran your hands through his hair and kissed him passionately. You tried to ignore the lump in your throat and reminded yourself that it was just Patrick. Things weren’t all that different, except for the fact that he was your husband now—and that he cheated on you.

You tried once more to push that thought out of your mind as you moved your hips against his lap, but your attempts were in vain. It certainly didn’t help that as you kissed him, you tasted the cigarette you shared earlier in his breath—an unwelcome reminder of the awkward tension that lingered between the two of you after he shared the truth about his infidelity. And surely, it was just your mind, but his lips almost tasted like the chapstick of another woman. 

Suddenly, all you could think about was Tashi with your husband. Him and Tashi in your bedroom, or in a hotel room, or on your couch. Did she do anything special that drove him crazy? What did she have that you didn’t? 

Your body said one thing, but your brain said something completely different. You did your best to power through the thoughts of your husband being with another woman, but you were beginning to realize that when it came to cheating, you weren’t all that tough. You bit down on Patrick’s lip in what you hoped would be a light nibble, but the taste of iron quickly filled your mouth. 

You slowed down your movements as your thoughts sped up before you gave up entirely. You supposed it was a classic case of mind over matter, and your mind was not nearly as strong as any of your physical urges. 

You shifted off of Patrick far later than you should’ve, feeling like a complete and utter failure. You couldn’t even do the one thing you should’ve been able to do during your wedding night. No wonder he found solace in someone else’s body. 

“I’m sorry,” you said weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

It took you rolling off of Patrick to realize that his face was damp, eyes glossy with a thin layer of tears threatening to fall. The pit in your stomach that had been steadily growing since Patrick pulled you aside to tell you something finally came to a head when you realized that your husband was crying.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last syllable of his question. 

A fresh tear rolled down his cheek, which was then followed by a few other droplets. He turned his head away from you and wiped them away quickly so you wouldn’t notice them, but the damage was already done. 

You’d never seen Patrick cry before—not when you watched sad movies that left you bawling, not when the two of you watched advertisements for puppies in shelters, not even when he thought his dad might be dying. To see him shed tears over you felt particularly unsettling. 

“Patrick?” you said his name softly, like he was delicate and going to break. 

“I should be the one who’s sorry,” he looked towards you once more, eyes now rimmed with red. “I ruined everything already. I'm so sorry.”

This was a complete wild card on top of a stack of wild cards. If someone told you that your wedding night would end with your husband telling you he cheated on you, a pathetic failed attempt at sex, then watching your partner cry for the first time in front of you, you would’ve laughed in their face. 

His crying continued, becoming slightly more intense as sorrow racked through his body. You’d never been in a situation like this before, so you were completely unsure of what to do. 

With all prior restraint to show him physical affection gone, you awkwardly slotted your arms around your husband. He automatically leaned into you, burying his face in your shoulder as he continued to shed quiet tears. Your shoulder quickly grew damp as you threaded your fingers through his curls, the repetitive petting being just as soothing for you as it was for him. 

Despite it all, you still felt a general sense of nothing at all. You were beginning to grow concerned, knowing that deep down there were certainly emotions that weren’t ready to approach the surface. You worried about what it might look like once those feelings finally came out, but that was the least of your worries when it came to your weeping husband. 

Patrick continued to cry quietly, the only sound in the room being his soft, occasional sniffles. You couldn’t even place how you felt or how long you sat there stone faced as you cradled your husband. 

Eventually, the tears on your shoulder dried and the intervals between sniffles grew further and further. Soon, the soft sounds of weeping turned into the long and deep breaths of rest. Between you playing with his hair and holding him, he must’ve fallen asleep. You couldn’t really blame him—given your eventful day, your all-nighter the previous day, and the energy it took for him to cry. 

You gently laid Patrick back down on his side of the bed, pulling a blanket over his chest and pushing back the hair on his forehead to press a kiss to him. He stirred slightly against the forehead kiss, but didn’t seem to wake up all the way. Even when your feelings were complicated towards the man, you couldn’t help being affectionate towards him. In some ways, you felt like you needed that affection just as much as he did. 

You let out a long sigh as the reality of everything truly began to set in, and you no longer had to be strong for your weeping partner. You couldn’t wrap your head around the sight of Patrick crying for the first time, or the fact that he cheated on you. You flicked off the bedside lamp, the only source of light in your otherwise darkened bedroom. 

You rolled over in bed and laid on your back, setting your hands on your stomach and staring up at the ceiling. You traced your eyes over the pattern of the ceiling, though it was dark and not all that clear. You wondered if you looked at it long enough, if you’d be able to make some sense out of it. You glanced over at Patrick and wondered the same thing. 

You just couldn’t understand why he’d cheat on you. You’d always been under the impression that he was just as happy in your relationship as you were. Despite his promiscuous past, he never seemed like the type of person to not be loyal to you.

You noticed a teardrop trail down his cheek in his sleep, and you gently thumbed it away. The small movement turned into you tracing a line down his nose and over his lips, then over his eyebrows and back down through the few freckles that dotted his face. Maybe if you watched him long enough, if you learned every detail of his face, someone would reveal to you why he’d done something so illogical and cruel. 

You worried about how the two of you could move forward from something like this. Though Patrick always approached the topic of infidelity with a dismissive attitude, cheating had always been a deal breaker for you in your past relationships. It shattered your trust in a way that was so foundational, you couldn’t fathom a world where your relationship with Patrick stayed exactly the same after this. 

Part of you knew already that moving forward, you’d constantly wonder if he was genuinely working late or if he was having an affair, or if his eye was wandering at events despite you standing by his side. And that was just trust when it came to relationships—obviously his lie was far deeper than just that. Now, you knew that Patrick had the capacity to hold a secret that massive from you, then share it at the worst possible time. 

In fact, his timing felt so terrible that you momentarily wondered if it was some sort of power play. Was Patrick trying to remind you that you weren’t equals in this partnership? Was he trying to manipulate you by only sharing this information to you after you were married to him and couldn’t easily call everything off? 

Your stomach turned at the possibility that Patrick wasn’t really who he said he was, and that you’d been baited and switched. You recalled the first time you met Patrick’s family, how he switched on a dime and became far more calculated and cruel to them than you’d ever seen him be with you. Was that the realest version of your husband, and the person he was with you just a façade? Was this some sort of long game he was playing with his family to piss a few people off? Did Patrick even love you?  

For the first time in your relationship, you felt like you didn’t know who you were sleeping next to. Surely, this couldn’t be the same Patrick who you set out to have a quick hook up with, and ended up talking to him for hours. It couldn’t be the same Patrick who held you tight at night and gave you kisses every morning in your kitchen. The same Patrick from your vows a few hours ago, whose hands shook as he read from notecards and declared his love for you.

You frowned as you looked over Patrick once more. You resented how he was able to sleep so peacefully after inflicting such hurt on you. Did he even understand how destroyed you were? You couldn’t see yourself sleeping through the night in the foreseeable future, your head too filled with questions about your relationship and questions about his relationship with her. Would they continue the affair? Would they still work together after this, leaving you to wonder for the rest of your life if they were still going behind your back?

You desperately wished the thoughts would stop, but they kept coming, punctuated by the sounds of Patrick’s soft snores behind you. 

By the time the sun began to peek through the blinds, your hand was on Patrick’s face once again. You wondered how it was possible for him to hurt someone he loved as much as he loved you, if his definition of love was so skewed by a lifetime of abuse labeled as love from his parents, and siblings who used cruelty as a form of affection. 

Maybe you should’ve listened to the warnings everyone gave you, from your parents who warned that your husband and his family may be more than you bargained for, from his sisters who never seemed to be able to fully wrap their head around Patrick committing to someone, let alone you. Maybe you should’ve even listened to Tashi’s coded warning about his inability to commit and stay loyal. It seemed like everyone saw the fate of your relationship coming except you. 

With the early morning light illuminating the room, things felt a little clearer for you. Beneath the numbness that protected you the previous night was a more painful undercurrent of hurt that was already beginning to eat away at you. 

For the past several years of your life, you hadn’t had to deal with any painful feelings on your own. Patrick was always there beside you to hold you tight and reassure you that everything would be okay. As you laid next to him, you realized that despite all the pain he’d inflicted on you, all you really wanted was to be held by him. 

Knowing that he was sleeping peacefully beside you, you opted to hold him, draping your body over his and pulling yourself as close as you could manage to him. You leaned your ear against his back, taking in the warmth he gave you and listening to his heart beat. As the two of your breaths and heartbeats began to match the other’s pace, you lamented that even now, your hearts beat as one. 

For the first time that evening, your eye prickled with the threat of tears. 

You lost track of how long you held your husband, but it was long enough to notice the pattern of his breath changing. You’d woken up beside him enough times to recognize that he was clearly awake, yet he made no other indication to you that he was awake. He wanted you to hold him. You wondered if he thought this might be the last time you ever do that for him. You wondered if it was the last time you’d ever do that for him. 

The two of you pretended to be asleep despite the fact that you were both obviously awake, but no one commented on anything. After your arms began to grow numb, you turned your back to Patrick, hoping that he would return the favor and give you what you really wanted. You were pleased to find that he just as eagerly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and breathing quietly in your ear. 

The two of you sat in complete silence, pretending you didn’t know what the other person was doing. Somehow, it felt like that was about to become a recurring theme in your relationship.

[heartsforvin]

a fluffy one about reader having really bad/intense periods and vinnie being a sweetie pie?

COMFORT

loveeee this, especially since i experience intense camps sometimes 🥲 hope you enjoy !!

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, mentions of menstruation/ blood, use of pet names, mentions of intense cramps, lmk if i missed anything !

summary: period pain is no joke, especially for you, luckily vinnie’s by your side every second to comfort you through it

you woke up this morning ready to start the day and be productive, all that energy came to an end when you went to the bathroom and saw the red spot right in the middle of your underwear.

sighing, you grabbed your phone and texted your boyfriend to bring you a clean pair while you did what you had to do.

after that day you were basically glued to your bed, hunched over in pain as you had a glass of water on your nightstand, paired with ibuprofen.

a heating pad laid snug against your stomach as you tried to ignore the pain and watch the movie that was playing on the tv.

this was your worst time ever, mainly because you could barely stand because of the immense cramps you’d get.

you’d always text vinnie to come by if he wasn’t busy. you felt bad for always needing him, you knew he had stuff to get done.

he told you it was always no big deal and that you come first before anything.

so, that’s the thought that popped into your head as you picked up your phone and texted your boyfriend.

when he finally got to your house, he called out for you, which he knew you wouldn’t respond or even meet him in the doorway.

“baby,” he whispered softly as he saw you smile at him with the heating pad on you. “how are you feeling?”

you’re wrapped up in loose blankets, wearing a sports bra and pajama shorts, wanting to be the most comfortable you can get.

you give vinnie the same small smile. “hurts,” you moan out of pain when you feel your lower stomach grumble.

vinnie kicks off his shoes and takes off his sweatshirt, being left with nothing but his tattooed chest on full display.

your smile grows wider as you scoot to give him room on the bed. vinnie gets in and pulls you so your legs entangle with his and your head is on his chest.

this is how you’re most comfortable; skin to skin with your boy as he soothes almost all your pain away.

“what are we watchin’?” he asks as he starts to lightly scratch at your scalp, making you softly hum.

“tangled.” you reply, looking up at him with a smile.

vinnie leans closer so your lips are mere inches from each other, he smiles against your lips before kissing you softly.

everything melted away when he was with you. no pain, no worries, just you and your boy against the world.

that all faded when you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen strike, pulling away from vinnie and hissing at the feeling.

“need anything, my love?” his tone was so gentle, so caring you could cry right then and there.

you shook your head, not needing anything but the pain to go away completely.

vinnie hummed and kissed the top of your head. before you could reach for him he had slipped out of the bed.

about a minute later he came back with a pint of your favorite ice cream in hand with two spoons.

a playful smile plastered across his face as he handed you one of the spoons and helped you sit up a bit on the bed.

“how’d you know?” the question was dumb, of course he knew what would make you feel better for mere minutes.

vinnie opens the lid and scoops the ice cream before you. “you don’t think i know my girl?”

the question makes butterflies soar in your stomach even if you are in immense pain.

your hand places itself on his cheek before you carefully lean in to kiss him softly.

the two of you sat there for a bit as you ate the ice cream and watched the movie. after you both decided you were done, vinnie went to put the ice cream away and the spoons in the sink.

“fuck,”you mutter when you see the mess on the bed. “vin.” you whine out in pain again. vinnie’s in your room in a heartbeat.

his smile soon faded once he saw you standing up and looking at your bedsheets.

you had bled through your shorts.

tears started to well in your eyes as you clutched the heating pad to your stomach.

“hey, hey, look at me,” vinnie cupped your face gently, making you look at him. “you go in the bathroom and sit there, okay? i’ll throw these in the wash and get you clean clothes.” he informed before kissing your forehead.

you smiled as tears started to spill. “none of this,” he spoke softly as he wiped your dampened cheeks. “you’re okay, baby. just go in the bathroom and i’ll be there in a few.”

you padded softly to the bathroom as your boyfriend cleaned up your dirty bedsheets. you did what you had to do before you saw vinnie come into view.

“all good?” he asks as he crouches down so he’s eye level with you.

he doesn’t care about anything like the smell or what you tell him when he’s this close to you. he just wants to make sure you’re okay.

“vinnie it probably— i don’t care,” he cuts you off. “are you okay?”

you nod as you grab the clean clothes from him. vinnie leans up and kisses your cheek before going over to the bathroom door to give you space to change.

“see? all better. now let’s finish the movie, it’s getting good.” he says as you finish up.

you wash your hands and grab his hand in yours before making your way back to your room.

you get back into the position you were in, your head on his chest but this time he’s rubbing your back softly.

your eyes start to feel heavy as his hand continues to calmly rub your back. you look up at him with a sheepish smile.

“sleepy?” he asks quietly, to which you just nod. “get some rest, pretty girl. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

that was the last thing you heard before your eyes drifted shut and you nuzzled your head into his chest.

this was sooo cute ): i wish vinnie was real and taking care of me on my period 🙁 (ik he’s real but yk what i mean)

i hope you all liked this , and thank you nonie for the request again !! i hope it lived up to what you wanted <33

tags: @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @42internetgirl , @visualbutterflysworld , @venusblakes , @bernelflo , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @slvthrs , @pepsicolapussy333 , @leqonsluv3r , @st4rswrld , @laylasbunbunny , @kriissy4gov , @violet0182 , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @hallecarey1 , @kayleighh ,

[cokou]

𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗 × 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Assigned with laundry duty with penguin, maybe things got out of hand. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Panty stealing. Getting caught. Fucking on the floor. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. I SWEARRER PENGUIN IS SO HOT. Pls no transfer and translate to any other media, this is my only account!😿😿 I LOVE YOU GUYS // Masterlist 💗

You head towards the laundry room, carrying a basket full of already worn clothes. As you enter the room, you were met with Penguin looking at the dryer with the most confused expression you've ever seen. It seemed like he was skeptical and the look of 'im fucked' on his face.

"What's wrong?" Placing the basket into one corner, you approach him ready to help on whatever he had caused once again.

"Uhm, maybe I twisted it wrong?" He looked at you, his arms crossed and tapping his feet into the floor.

"Twisted it wrong? Context please?" Now even more confused, you take a look at the dryer, the buttons twisted, yet not working. The machine lets out loud noises of brr's and it smelled like smoke inside the room.

"(Name), I think I broke the dryer! Captain is totally gonna make me pay for it!" Penguin's voice was mixed between a nervous and a panic soring through him. Part of him was already prepared to do all punishments that the captain would set up for him.

"Calm down! Uh��� Maybe you just twisted it wrong!" You tried retwisting the timer control towards the right, nothing happened. You retwisted it towards the left, and suddenly it jolted open, spinning fastly, the sound of revving filling the room and the machine reeked of the smell of smoke even more.

"Well look at that! I'm such an engineer when it comes to this." You proudly put your hands on your waist as Penguin looked even more concerned as the machine revved like crazy and spurting out smoke.

"(Name)! It's spurting out smoke! Turn it off, turn it off!!" As you hurriedly turned the machine off, it wouldn't turn off. Luckily Penguin had removed the sockets quickly.

"This machine's such a bummer... I'm ready to do 3 months worth of duties for the next few days of my life." Penguin sighed as he looked at you frowning, making you feel guilty.

"Well Peng, you could use another machine in a while."

"You're right, well atleast you'll help me out here, so it's less of a bummer."

Penguin knew it himself that whenever Law partners you two up for duties, he's always the one to enjoy it the most, not even complaining. Maybe his crush on you has been going on ever since you stepped into the submarine itself.

You smiled at him and reminded that you two have to be done before midnight or everyone would freak out of nothing to wear. Both of you returned to work—, however at the worst timing ever, Penguin had an idea of taking care of your clothes first. Rummaging through the baskets to find your laundry basket.

He picks it up swiftly, ready to toss them into the machine. Opening it up, his eyes widened at the sudden cloth that met his eyesight.

"(Name)'s panties.." mumbling to himself after the discovery, he held it and inspected it. A wet patch displayed on it, he felt himself get tighter at the groin as he looked over to your direction. Everything in him is telling that this was wrong, and that maybe he should just pick another basket until you pick yours up, right?

"Hey Peng? Are you okay? You've been—" drifting your eyes to his hand, you noticed a familiar pattern of cloth on his hand. "...Drop that!"

"Im sorry! I didn't even—" he slowly panics as he returned your underwear on the basket. "I didn't even mean it! I just saw it and—"

"No it's okay..I was wondering where it went, i guess i accidentally tossed it on the laundry basket."

"Uh— i'll..wash it if it's okay for you?" Regretting his words, he looked at the floor fidgeting with his hands. Thinking about it, he thought that he'd eacape the room with your panties.

"Oh sure, thanks?" You turned around to get back on whatever you left, leaving Penguin on his state. He quickly takes your underwear and stores it on his pocket for 'later'. Trying his best to keep his dick inside his pants until he was done doing his part.

Unfortunately for him, he couldn't just forget what had happen and his erection is starting to hurt. Looking towards your direction every 10 seconds, it felt like an eternity whenever you were in the same room as him.

However, he watches you bend over to pick up the basket and tossing them inside the machine clearly doesn't help at all. He could just tell you he'll be taking a break for a while, but he already had taken his break an hour ago. Thinking for more excuses to get out of this hell situation, he was even gladder you haven't noticed when you decided to talk to him.

This was clearly his last straw, when you bent over to check on a prnny that fell under the washer, he finally lost it. Walking over to you, he inspects the curves of your ass hugging those tightly worn pants that you decided to wear today. You didn't fail to notice his presence, but he isn't talking, thinking that maybe he's just looking for something.

Wrong. He presses his erection on your ass, making you gasp loudly. "Penguin?! Wha—"

"Hey, be quiet..you wouldn't want anyone hearing." He feel his dick twitching in his pants as he presses deeper into the curves of your ass.

Deciding to finally move, you helped him get your pants and everything off you to save some time, he doesn't waste time and quickly gets his bottoms off, shoving them on floor. Grabbing his dick and pumping it a few times, he positions it on your entrance.

Hoping that holding against the floor stabilizes you enough from the upcoming thrusts. He slowly enters your core, giving you a few minutes to adjusts him. He was big, just like you expexted it to be.

After a while he finally moves at a slow motion, being careful to not hurt you. His thrusts were sensual the faster it goes, it almost felt like he was holding back especially to not cause any harm.

"Ouhm...Peng, don't..hold back." You beg him, you were positioned with your ass on the air just how he found you looking for what dropped underneath the machine. You felt Penguin stiffen as you say those five words, making him even more nervous.

"R—Right.." He doesn't dare to hold back now, he paces quite fast, skin to skin noises flooding up the room. You hopefully tried to try keeping your noises to yourself, atleast. Releasing only heavy breaths and broken gasps as his motions turn sloppy and faster, you were sure with how big he was that it was already hitting your cervix.

He starts moving faster, chasing his high. Trying your best to keep your noises kept, you were already faltering from the ecstacy Penguin was causing you, remotely releases fairly loud moans.

You felt yourself closer to climax every thrusts he gives you, loud noises of squelching from your wet cunt covering the whole room.

"Fuh—ck, (Name).." Penguin releases groans and slight whimpers.

Being too busy with each other, both of you hadn't heard the noise of the doorknob switching.

"Penguin, (Name)—" 1, 2, 3. It was Law, having to see you both on a fucked up situation right infront of his very eyes. "Are...you two...done. What." He shoves his hand across his eyes and turns around, trying to process what he had just caught.

"Oh. My. God. Captain! I—It's not what it looks like!" Penguin quickly pulls out, having you release a moan, he grabs his pants to quickly dress himself up as you do the same.

"U—uhm..." You looked at the floor trying to play cool.

"I should've known not to partner you two up for duties!" Law the person he is, decides to scold you two in the middle of the laundry room where everyone could hear it. Obviously everyone started eavesdropping on the door. He gave you two 3 hours of full scolding while explaiing that everybody needed their clothes by midnight.

However letting everything get worse, he discovered the broken machine that you and Penguin both fucked up earlier. Making the punishment much heavier.

"6 months, 6 months of duties for the. Both. Of. You." Lesson learned, not to fuck in the laundry room. Dismissing the both of you from scolding and telling you two both continue everything by tomorrow.

Whatever Penguin was happy to be able to keep your panties with him, maybe he'll continue the scenario with it.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[majeoeje]

Thousand suns

Tanjiro X Reader

I'd give you my heart even if i knew you’ll break it

He changed you. In was subtle and painfully slow, but it was far too late for you once you realized the hold that Kamado Tanjiro had on you. He practically got you wrapped on his fingers without him realizing

"I accidently bought an extra haori, on my last mission, i thought it would look nice on you" he said, with that priceless smile of his

Now you never left the house without it.

"That's a really beautiful hairpin [name], it suits you well!"

Now you always wear it.

"I love how this tea is so fragrant, thank you so much for bringing it to me" he says, still smiling despite breaking countless of bones in his body

Now a cup of warm jasmine tea always mysteriously appear beside his table every day he lay to rest in the infirmary.

You truly could get lost in the echoes of his voice calling your name as your heart swells in contentment.

GOD. It was embarassing. Some part of you resented how easily swayed you were when it comes to him, acting like a lovesick fool, wearing your heart on your sleeve. But how could you not? When the boy right in front of you has the purest heart out of everyone you ever met in your life. If it was him, you wouldn't mind having your heart break again and again until it could only be recognize as a pile of mush.

But nonetheless, you wouldn't give him your heart. you wouldn't want him to see how tainted you truly are, a tarred and rotten soul.

The only thing beautiful that truly came from your heart was your newfound love for him. But of course you knew it wasn't right for him to be with someone like you, it wasn't right... you should do everything in your power to stop it. But your selfish desires wanted to keep this feeling. Even if it's only for yourself, and you hated that.

"[Name] you're spacing out again.... are you alright?"

He touched your hand, you could feel the calloused hard skin of his palm under your bandaged hand. The warmth in itself could set you ablaze

"Ah- sorry Tanjiro, my mind was.. somewhere else.."

"That is quite alright.... But are you feeling better now? That tree demon was quite the handful is it not? Haha!” he says, trying to lighten the mood, as he always do. You layed helplessly with 8 broken bones and a harsh scar that dragged from your right shoulder to your left waist, his existance could soothe all wounds in your body.

"You're right!.. Ahaha..ha.." you laughed uncharacteristically dry, trying to make your point accross for him to just go away.

But he only sat himself closer to you, before he starts chatting away about his wonderful day with the water hashira Giyuu, and his soba eating contest. It was heartfelt, heartwarming and so so precious. How you wanted to just listen to his voice all day...

"Tanjiro-!..."

He was cut off from his story, looking at you confused

"I think.. it's time for you to go. I am rather-...tired, i wish to rest"

The doubt and hurt expression in your face sent strings of guilt in Tanjiro’s heart, he was so immersed in your company that he didn’t realize your discomfort.

"I apologize for keeping you at bay, please rest well [Name]!” he said, before he sweetly tucked your blanket and fixed your pillow for you

“I’ll write to you! I hope the letters doesn’t get lost in the way this time too”

The familliar sounds of his steps gradually becoming more faint as he went away

"I'm the worst." You say (you are, there’s no doubt about it)

You sat yourself eyes glued to the drawer filled with Tanjiro's unanswered letters. You slowly took one, and held it close to your heart. You could still smell the dried wisteria flowers that he gifted you along side it.

"Well that was..” a voice suddenly said not visible to your line of vision

“INCREDIBLY STUPID.” Goto said, an unlucky Kakushi that by some unfortunate chance had to listen to your pathetic teenage love story.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE???!!" you said, surprised. Has your instincs as a demon slayer weakened over the course of your bedridden days? It has only been a week??

"Maybe if you weren't so enamoured by him, then you'd notice i've been standing here the whole damn time." The vein bulging out of anger in hid forehead was far from not visible.

He was right, despite your efforts in trying to avoid him, everyone could notice how your eyes still wouldn’t budge away from him

"Can you not?..Don't you see that i'm a heartbroken mess??"

"AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT" he said, as he poked your face aggresively.

You looked at him offended before turning the other way. You both knew the answer

He sighed. He was a 23 year old man, consulting 2 teenagers on their love life. Dream job right here..

But despite his irritated tone. You could tell there was sincerity in his words. You had grown used to his counseling daily over these week.

Well it's not like you could go anywhere else.

"Look kid, i know, you think that you're not good enough for him because of something you did in the past.. but, that kid looks at you-"

"He looks at everyone like that-" you cut off again, before earning an earnest pinch on your arm"

"OW OW-"

"LET ME FINISH." He sighed again "he looks at you as if you hunged the stars, it's wildly obvious. i think that despite what you believe, out of everyone... maybe Tanjiro could forgive you for what you did in the past."

Forgiveness.. could anyone ever forgive you for what you did? You were at fault for the destruction of your whole village. To say that someone in this world would think anything else but vicious of you would be something more self serving.

You were glad you were still face the other way. Because at least you could pretend that you weren't crying over this.

"... you're just saying that to make me feel better..." you said pathetically as you layed on that infirmary bed miserably. You haven't missed a day where you haven't wondered if the outcome would've been different.

"Maybe. But you wouldn't know until you've said something. Don’t throw this away, is all i’m saying" he shrugged, before leaving the infirmary. Leaving you to reflect

You look to the side to find Tanjiro's blade being left behind. He left his sword.. you thought

But it's okay.. you can just ask someone else to retreive it. It's no big deal just don't think about him!

Alone at last..

Alone again.

You were always okay with that. But having to meet Tanjiro, some parts of you could bear to stand it no longer. As if a gnawing feeling to seek his presence haunts your dreams and every waking moment. How could you wish to recover from this? How can you recover from him?

You couldn't..

What if he needed his sword..? You said internally, knowing well he was just going to The Water Hashira’s residence for a meet up. What if he encouter a demon on the way there? Better safe than sorry... you thought, knowing well it's 7 in the morning

The sounds of your steps echoing through the corridor of the butterfly estate, at first Aoi was too busy cooking to notice but the sounds of your painful screech and every huff through your painful steps on the hardwood floors

But your instincts maybe had really dulled because you didn’t hear Aoi coming out of the kitchen

"Going somewhere?"

Aoi says, with the knife that she forgot to set aside in his hand. The murderous aura coming out of her wasn't helping whatsoever...

"....Just taking a walk?.... AhaHA- please put that down, Aoi... "

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE RESTING!!" She yelled at you, scolding you for your behaviour knowing damn well you're supposed to be resting.

What you didn't know however was that Tanjiro was already on his way inside the Butterfly Mansion once again, remembering to retrieve his sword.

Though his hearing wasn't that very good after the fight with upper moon 4 making him walk straight to your heated scolding session.

"Sorry Aoi.." you said, in what you could only describe as your defeated cries.

"Aoi-san? What's wrong?.." he said, finally realizing the situation after seeing you sat on the floor while Aoi stood up waving her arms around like a parent after finding out their child did something bad.

Aoi let out a groaned before instructing Tanjiro to escort you back to your bed.

Seeing you carry around his sword though lets him know of your intentions. Seeing that precious smile plastered on his face made you somewhat embarassed... it's as if he could read you easily like an open book. It was as if even if you tried to do anything discreet, he'd found you out everytime. It was as if no matter how many times you run and hide your adoration from him.. that smile would appear and ruined it all.

"Thank you [name], you didn't have to do that...." he said as he sat you on the infirmary bed. "You're

"It's nothing really... but-" you tried to give a rebuttle, trying to downplay your situation.

"And here i was afraid you might be avoiding me for some reason...." he said, maybe he didn't realize it. But that smile could melt you sooner than the power of a thousand suns "I'm glad!.. i really am.."

Oh.. there it is that tingly feeling again.

you're fucked.

"I'm sorry Tanjiro... but, you're actually correct" you could even say he's on the nose... haha.

"I must admit that i have been avoiding you. And trust me it's nothing against you.." oh it's everything against him.

"I want you to know that.. so please do not worry"

You held his hand, the thought he would pull away from your touch hanted your mind, but he sat there intertwining his fingers with yours. You could get lost in him. His touch, his voice, his warmth.. and those eyes.

"Then... would you tell me what happened?.." he asked, the melody of his voice lulling you in a daydream

"I.. i think i fell in love w-" SHIT. That was your outside voice.. you blame him for distracting you in such manner.

"HUH-" Tanjiro were surprised with your words.. pushing a precariously obvious intrest in his tone of voice "W-with who?.. ahaha-" he laughed nervously

"I- it doesn't matter!!" You shook your head violantly feeling him coming closer. The proximity only pushing you to spill all your guts altogether...

"I- it's just that.. it doesn't matter because he doesn't love me back.. you know?... there's no way he would ever accept a heart like mine" you say incredibly negative, waving your hand around like some idiot. Breaking the handholding that was previously established. “Which is why i’m a little down in the dumps lately… but i know i’ll get over it so don’t worry!”

"Ah-" you felt Tanjiro catching your hands in the air and putting them together”

“Anyone who rejects your heart are clearly stupid!” Tanjiro says, rather angrily. “Please don’t be upset.. that person couldn’t began to imagine your value!!”

Well you technically weren’t rejected yet, he may has misunderstood.

“You really don’t have to comfort me Tanjiro.”

“I’m serious..” he pried, wanting you to see his truth “you’re kind. More than you think. You’re sensitive… loyal.. not to mention determined-“

“Tanjiro-“

“It’s lovely. Your heart that is..”

You were taken aback by his words. It’s as if you could hear a sweet melody playing along with the uncontrollable beat of your heart as your cheeks grew warm unwillingly

This moment was nothing but tender, you wanted nothing but to melt in his arms.

“You’re probably the only one who thinks of me that way, Tanjiro.”

Your words rang nonsense through his ears. How can that be true when you take his breath away in every second of the day? If he could then he’d happily spend hours of his day explaining every wonderful aspects of you. He’ll hammer that idea in your head if he could.

"Then.." he trailed of. Breaking eye contact. You missed the way flush spread all over his complexion all this time, only realizing the embarassement and hesitance that was plastered obvious so

"Can i have it?"

"W-wha.."

"Your heart.. May i have it?" He said, fixing his words as he looks into your eyes in anticipation. "That is.. if you're willing to have me of course."

Woah.

...

WOAH?

WAIT....WOAH!?!?!

At this point you don't think you could even give your heart to anyone else...nor even him because your heart has probably already exploded at that moment.

It took you more than a while to process with Tanjiro looking at you, concerned for you, he didn't even know if you were lucid by how many times he called out to you.

"SAY SOMETHING YOU IDIOT" Said Goto behind you, as he swiftly hit you right in the head. Yup, that does the job

"But- i- you.. i think maybe you-" your words got caught up in your throat as Tanjiro inspects the back of your head right where goto landed his unforgiving blow, that will surely leave a bruise.

You could hear Tanjiro’s worried comments about how mean it was for Goto to do such a thing as he caress your bruise trying to soothe the pain.

"Fix your breath,kid" he said, clicking his tounge in impatiebce before disappearing again, he knows when you need a moment alone. Reliable as always, though it gets creepy how he shows up out of no where.

Despite his harsh punch, you knew he was right. You took a deep breath and exhaled, calming your nerves, while Tanjiro sat beside you attentively

“Tanjiro..” you called his name, you never wish for it to be the last time you do. So you might as well tell your truth

"You.. you're the kindest person i ever known. But i have a background that is beyond tainted, it's not right for me to keep that from you. Please understand that i'm a person who will forever bear the consequences of my sins, i... there's no reality where i can think that i deserve you."

That would go along a fact that maybe there wasn’t a reality where you didn’t yearn for him.

"Don't say that.. please don't say that!" He yelled, now clenching your hands despretely

“If i have to, then i’ll bear half of your sins so that you didn’t need to feel that way.” He loved you, despretely. And it pains him that you thought of yourself that way when he worship the ground you walk upon

“I want you to know that there’s no reality where i don’t love you”

You intended to say ‘i love you too’ you loved him above all else. But the words got caught up in your throat,replaced by your choked sobs

Tanjiro sat there, comforting you, wiping away your tears patiently.

To help people was something that Tanjiro always aspires to do. He does it even without thinking.. but when it was with you, he can't help but overthink his actions would they like this? Would it be weird if i complimented them? Would it be too obvious? At some point he worries the nice things that he tries to do for you ultimately come from the a selfish desire to woo you. He worries it wasn't genuine and it was self serving. He worries that he wasn't doing this right.

But what he worried the most was that he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop basking in your smile, your light, your attention, your presence. He knew he was getting spoiled.

"Would you take me, even like this?" You said, you didn’t have to give your heart to him, it was already his

"I wouldn't have you any other way".

[spinji]

I NEED TO YAP ABOUT THIS MOVIE MY GOD-

YOU'RE NEXT SPOILERS UNDER CUT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaokayokay-

Can I just say I DO NOT recommend seeing this the same day as watching the new episode because I have had a DAY-

Unfortunately, the theater I went to didn't have the booklets or promotional cups but not a huge loss. It's the price I pay to have my boyfriend by my side; worth it. ♡

As with all my other MHA theater outings the screening was packed with delightful weirdos (dubbed, if you happen to care). One guy had an extensive set of custom MHA lego guys (very cool) and two very enthusiastic Toga cosplayers were so kind and kept me from feeling like a dork going out in public in a Deku wig. All the love to them, fr.

The movie itself though ohhhhh MY~

If I'm being honest this one didn't surpass World Heroes Mission or Heroes Rising for me, but also I don't know what you could do to beat out the movies that gave me such extreme brainrot it got me to be a part of this fandom in the first place. Personal rankings for the movies, best to "worst" is 3, 2, 4, 1.

Maybe it's because I had higher expectations instead of being given the best character in the franchise suddenly with no warning but I did still really REALLY love it. The highest point I can give it is easily the animation. Absolutely zero scenes in this movie feel like they fell to the standard of the anime. Everything was fluid and detailed and so fun to look at. And yes, of course it made every attack flashy as fuck. I was giddy every time Bakugou let out an explosion.

The premise did sound insane going in, and it is, but it's an anime side movie. Caring about the plot is a bonus, not a requirement. I guess my only real gripe is that it felt a little too fast? Very few scenes had time to breathe and unlike the other movies there wasn't really any slow establishing opening. If you come to MHA exclusively for the action, I think this one will be your new favorite.

Okay- I'm gonna just bullet point my highlights because I'm barely restrained enough to sit down and type.

First of all GIULIO!!!

Listen- I knew I would love this guy but oh my god babygirl~

He responds to literally everyone approaching him by pointing a gun at them. No comment this is just great

When Deku tells him to stop shooting at someone, he just pulls out a SECOND GUN and points it at him too

His motorcycle also has guns. Ngl I have expected his eye implant to also have a gun for a moment there.

He is SUCH an asshole to Deku in the first half and I love it. Their dialogue exchanges were so funny.

And in the second half he just,,,,cracks under the pressure so hard,, Man is having the WORST day of his life fr. It's really nice to know he and Anna are safe at UA rn. Poor things deserve it.

Anna and Giulio are really cute romantically, Giulio is definitely adult but he's going in the Deku harem anyway. You can't stop me, I am capable of worse.

Anna herself unfortunately doesn't get much time since she spends most of the movie mind controlled but she's harmlessly sweet and adorable. Anna they could never make me hate you.

I want to smear Dark Might across the side of a wall and given how much they overanimated his expressions, I believe this is the intended effect.

Am I the only one that hopes he sees the Mech Might livestream just to rub salt in the wound? Don't you dare let All Might's name fall from your mouth again, you bag of scum.

I really REALLY wanted Izuku to get pissed off and start naming off inconsistencies between how All Might and Dark Might look: "His eyes are SKY blue, not ocean blue, and while his broad features don't make it obvious, his chin was actually much slimmer, also you got the silver age colors wrong-!" alas... you know he was thinking it though-

Big tiddy mind control gf Deborah my beloved- she has pretty privileges for everything

Actually a lot of the lesser goons of the family were kind of dorky and odd. I loved the energy! Why was one of them literally a D&D nerd that put on a wizard robe OVER HIS SUIT. Most entertaining movie villian group for sure.

The personal dreams everyone had under the mind control? Kill me. Kill me right the fuck now!

Shoto literally just wants a happy childhood with his family??? Where Touya wants to play with him????? And Rei was still happy????? UUGAHWAAAAAAAA

Tenya and Tensei being heroes together STOP-

Shoji with the little girl he saaaaaaved,,,and he didn't have his face scars anymoooooore,,,

So glad they didn't show Ochako's because you know they would have just animated that what if pixel animation of her and Toga being childhood friends and I would have vomited in sorrow.

Absolutely infuriating they broke continuity to have Katsuki call Izuku "Deku" and not "De-Izuku". Never forget what they took from us.

"Beat it, cool side character!" is the best line in the movie. Katsuki does not forget what happened with Rody and he does NOT forgive.

Followed closely by "I'm falling down crotch-first!" And you wonder why I write the fics I do about you, Deku-

Deku being a legend as a jailbreaker hunter is so amazing?? Yes baby, they're so scared of you! You're doing amazing sweetie!

I might think of more but tldr: YOU'RE NEXT IS A REALLY FUN TIME AND YOU SHOULD WATCH IT!

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Bondage | Boo Seungkwan

Pairing: Camboy!Boo Seungkwan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), roommates to lovers, Camboy AU

Summary: Seungkwan is a camboy and after months of trying, he invites you, his best friend, to help him spice up one of his streams

WC: 5.8k

Warnings: Pet names (pretty girl, pretty, baby), fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), light bondage, some voyeurism and exhibitionism aspects, prominent sub space, spanking, multiple orgasms (fem receiving), Seungkwan is such a soft dom in this but he doesn't take any shit

A/N: Yall I know it's been a long time but I refuse to give up and honestly?? I kinda ate with this one. If you like it, please check out my commission and donation links, drop a comment or a reblog, it would be appreciated!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Living with Seungkwan was nice. He had friends over sometimes, and they could get a little loud sometimes, but they were always polite towards you, and they really did try not to cause problems for you. Seungkwan himself was a good friend, someone you knew you could rely on to handle the grocery trips when you were busy, or to keep the dishes done up. He was a shoulder you could lean on, which might have something to do with the two of you meeting during what was, objectively speaking, your worst year of college.

Maybe the best thing about Seungkwan was that no matter how much he would tease you, he never judged your decisions, and you never judged his. It was easy for the two of you to mind your own business. So it was a bit of a surprise when he came bursting into your room after a couple sharp knocks. He didn’t wait for an answer, and you were grateful that you were actually wearing pants this time.

“Hey, quick question. Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asked. You looked up at where he was standing just inside your doorway.

“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” You said, sitting up in bed and stretching your arms over your head. You didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked down to the sliver of your stomach that exposed itself. “You should really learn to knock. I could have been busy. Or, like, changing or something.”

“Y/N,” He whined, jutting out his bottom lip into a dramatic pout. You whined back before huffing.

“Relax, relax. I’m sorry. No, I’m not doing anything tomorrow night. Why?”

He moved to flop onto the end of your bed.

“Okay, so you know how I do streams, right?” He asked. You nodded, remembering how awkward the conversation had been when he’d explained it, how nervous he was to tell you that he had a side hustle as a camboy. You, however, hadn’t thought anything much about it, which you could tell helped ease his mind. It never mattered to you what he did in his free time, especially when his pocket money bought you little treats from everywhere he went. Besides, anyone as hot as Seungkwan would be a fool not to profit off of their looks in one way or another.

“Mhm,” You hardly looked up from your phone, just enough to urge him to continue talking.

“So…I had an idea for how to change it up this week but I need help.” He said. That had you putting your phone down. What exactly was he asking of you?

“Look, if we’re going to a sex store, you’re paying.” You said. You watched a faded pink crawl up his neck, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I wasn’t gonna suggest that. I think I have everything I need for now. It’s just a weird request, so you can’t freak out on me. I’m warning you!”

“Consider me warned,” You motioned for him to carry on.

“Would you want to join me for the stream? Like…let me touch you or whatever?”

You lost any semblance of coherent thoughts at his question. Sure, you knew that Seungkwan masturbated for strangers on the internet, and you knew he’d offhandedly mentioned how people would be interested in seeing him with a partner, but you knew he’d never wanted to share something like that with anyone he didn’t trust inside and out. More than freaking you out, the invitation flattered you (and maybe sparked a heat low in your stomach). He trusted you enough to invite you into his most vulnerable space.

Unfortunately, your silence on the matter did nothing but make him nervous.

“You can just say no, I’m not gonna be mad.” He said, moving to get up. You frowned, reaching to catch his hand and stop him before he got too far.

“I wasn’t gonna say no. I was just thinking is all.” You said with a shrug. “I know you wanna make your undying fans happy, but I don’t want you to bring me into this unless it’s something you’re absolutely sure about.”

Your sincerity seemed to catch him off guard, but he shook it quickly except for the curling warmth rising in his chest.

‘I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a couple months. Didn’t know how to without making it…weird.”

“It’s us, Kwan, aren’t things always weird?” You teased him. You watched the way the tension washed out of him, the way his shoulders relaxed, and you found yourself relaxing with him.

A little over twenty-four hours had passed when you found yourself stepping into Seungkwan’s bedroom. It was odd, and the nerves were beginning to settle in your stomach. It’s not like you were some fresh and pure virgin, and if there was anyone that you trusted to fuck you on camera in front of dozens - if not hundreds - of people, it was Seungkwan. But now you were about to have your entire body on display, about to hand over the reins and let him do as he saw fit for the people watching him. The people watching you.

“You can make yourself comfortable,” He said, motioning towards his bed. You’d been inside his room plenty of times, and maybe you’d taken a peek at his streams once or twice, just to see what exactly it was he did, but this felt different. You knew what this room looked like from almost every angle, but seeing it like this in person and not through the tiny screen of your phone was new. The purple LED lights set the mood, washing his room in a cool glow that made the entire place feel like it was moving in slow motion.

You perched on the end of his bed, watching the ease with which he moved around, the confidence in his stride. It wasn’t unfamiliar, this version of him where he took up space and commanded a room, but the context added something in it that sent ripples through the pool of arousal settling into your stomach. He sat in his desk chair, adjusting his set up and bobbing his head to the quiet music that he had playing in the background. You admired the way that the dim lighting washed over him, casting shadows against his already stunning features and making him that much harder to look away from.

“Did you hear me?” He asked. You blinked the lust out of your eyes and gave him an apologetic smile instead of an answer. “If you’re nervous you can say so. We don’t have to do this.”

He could see through you without even trying. Damn him and his observant nature.

“I’m fine, seriously. I want to do this with you. New experiences or whatever, right?” You rolled your neck in a slow circle, letting your shoulders lift up and drop back, stretching the nerves out of your muscles and forcing yourself to relax. This wasn’t you, you weren’t generally so uptight. “What was it you were saying?”

“The set up over here will have the stream on it. If you’re worried about what people will see, you can check it on this one.” He nodded towards one of the screens in question, then pointed to the next one. “That one will have the chat on it.”

You nodded along, listening to him explain the set up and showing you what the viewers would see, it was exactly what you’d expected it to be, nothing too intimidating. Still, you were grateful for his explanations and reassurance.

“And you’re just gonna…fuck me?” You asked, not entirely sure what to expect. You’d discussed your limits, established a safeword for if you needed out. You’d talked about what you were into, what you’d never tried before, going to extents that made you squirm. By this point, you were pretty sure that Seungkwan knew your sexual preferences better than any partner you’d ever had in the past.

Seungkwan laughed, and the sound seemed into your bones, washing away the last of your worries. That was your Seungkwan, you were safe in his hands.

“Not right away. Gonna talk to the chat, touch you, get everyone all worked up. You don’t have to say anything, just follow my lead. Listen to my voice. Let me make you feel good. The teasing is half the fun, it’s the part they always like the most.”

He was speaking so casually, but the certainty in his voice was doing something to you. You nodded, trying to picture how things were going to happen. Where would he touch you? Would he be able to find all the places that made you squirm or would he be too preoccupied with his chit-chat?

“Then I’ll do what we talked about. Play with you, make sure you feel good. It really is about you this time around.”

This time around. It implied he’d bring you back, put on another show with you, maybe a bit more selfishly. One that was about him next time. You remembered how he’d explained that his fans wanted to see how he’d take care of a partner, presumably to imagine it was them. That was fine by you, and if you held a little piece of something special with Seungkwan, well, that was nobody’s business but your own.

He went through the process of getting the stream ready, and you say quietly, watching him slip into his element. It reminded you of when he’d host get-togethers for your friends, how careful he was to make sure that everything was perfect so nobody had to worry about a thing. You wondered if he’d do the same thing when he was playing with you.

“Camera on in one minute.” He said, moving so he was propped against his pillows, guiding you to sit between his legs. You did as he said, pressing your back to his front and leaning your head back into his shoulder, nervous eyes trained on the screen where the two of you were sitting. It gave a perfect view of the two of you, his arms wrapped around you, hands settling against your lower stomach, and his fingers tracing against the waistband of your pants.

The viewers started rolling in just after the stream started, dedicated viewers who expected him just like clockwork. They greeted him with nothing but adoration and excitement, and Seungkwan greeted them back, calling some of them by name and thanking them for their tips on the last steam, insisting that he’d put on a good show again, that he’d work hard to meet their standards.

You really weren’t paying too much attention to what he was saying, just listening to that smooth cadence of his voice and feeling the way his hands brushed down over your exposed thighs, thumbs tracing the line of the shorts you’d put on for this. His hands were warm and smooth, kneading at the flesh of your thighs and dragging his dull nails against the insides of them. You wondered if he noticed the way your body was melting into him with each pass of his palms against your skin.

After several minutes of focusing on nothing but the heat thrumming in your stomach, you found yourself fighting the urge to wiggle, and then he was riding his hands higher, stroking up your sies and pushing your shirt out of the way so that he could slip underneath, caressing your sids, along your stomach, swirling shapes that blended in with the dips of his voice as he spoke to the camera.

You’d very nearly forgotten the viewers, so focused in on the way that Seungkwan was familiarizing himself with your body. Nobody had ever taken this much time to touch you without even taking off your shirt. You had a fleeting thought that maybe you’d have to worry about that eventually, about him being able to take you apart and put you back together better than anyone else you knew. That thought, however, slipped through your fingers when his hands moved up to cup your breasts over your bra. The touch made your back arch involuntarily, chasing more pressure, more skin on skin contact, more anything because that simply wasn’t cutting it.

He laughed, voice swirling in your head and fogging it up enough that you didn’t even have time to be insecure when he pulled your shirt off and cast it aside. You opened your eyes, the glaring image of the two of you catching your attention, and the red light staring back at your nearly bare torso. You chewed on your lip, and Seungkwan dipped closer so that the mic wouldn’t pick up his voice.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You nodded slowly, and his lips ghosted over the weak spot just below your ear. Your breath hitched when he flicked his tongue over it, waiting until your muscles gave out on you to suckle on it, drawing the tiniest whine from you. Then he huffed out a chuckle against the shell of your ear. “Good. I’m not done with you yet.”

His voice was dark, heady, and you were spinning in the abyss of it. The room felt like it was tilting at an odd angle, your stomach flip flopping and your body being held up only by the arm he had wrapped around you again, keeping you steady against him while he teased the curve of your cleavage above your bra.

“Yeah, she’s never been on camera before,” He said, voice no longer aimed towards you, but back at the audience that was becoming more and more antsy to have his attention back. You remembered then that people were watching you, watching the way that the slightest touch from him had you pressing your thighs together for a sliver of friction. “I know, she’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

A warmth crept into your cheeks at the easy praise, words spilling out as if you weren’t even there. It shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did, but you couldn’t deny the wetness dampening your panties as his fingers dipped under the cups of your bra, tugging them down slowly enough for you to stop him if you wanted. You didn’t want to. So he pulled the fabric down under your breasts and let his hands idly knead at them. He wasn’t chasing your pleasure the way that you were, just taking his time touching you as his eyes scanned the chat screen. The praise, the requests for him to strip with you, the ones asking to see more of you.

You didn't notice it in your state, so focused on his touch that you weren’t even looking at him on the screen, but a sort of heated jealousy flickered across his face. He didn’t mind sharing you with his audience, that’s what had gotten you into his bed in the first place, but he didn’t like the idea of letting them take over, letting them make you feel good instead while he just followed their orders.

His fingers got harsher, brushing against your nipples before pinching them between his fingertips and rolling them. You whined, back arching to ease some of the sharp pain, and he bit back a devastated sound at how pretty you sounded. For him.

His eyes returned to the screen, reading the comments as they rushed by, thanking people for the tips rolling in as he continued to pinch and tweak your sensitive buds. He tugged and twisted, flicked at them until you were nearly panting, legs desperately pressing together as if that would make you less of a worked up mess.

“Stay still,” He mumbled sharply, easing up on his torment and instead kneading your breasts in large, warm palms as if to soothe the sting of arousal that he’d caused.

He continued like that, hands suddenly gentle and much more patient than you could stand. You whimpered after a few moments of his attention straying front ou, your hand finding his wrist and guiding it with feather light touches towards the waistband of your shorts. He laughed.

“Need something, baby?” He asked. The name was new, and it only sent your mind spiraling further into depraved desperation.

“Need you. Please?” You said, and it was quiet enough that you weren’t even sure if it could be heard through the stream. The only reassurance that your begging was noticed was the influx of pinging as more and more money rolled in.

“Need me? Im right here, pretty girl. What could you need?” He taunted, and you huffed.

“Need you to touch me. Wanna cum,” You said, the world around you fading out completely as you gave him exactly what he was looking for. He seemed satisfied, nudging you to sit up straighter so that he could pull his shirt off and discard it. Then he was pulling you back, pressing your bare skin to his, radiating warmth that had you melting, your skin burning with want, and need, and pure molten lava at that point.

Once you were settled back, he pushed your shorts out of his way, guiding them down your soft thighs so you could kick them off, leaving you just in the flimsiest, cutest pair of panties that you owned. The scrap of fabric barely covered you to begin with, and it was nearly transparent with your wetness, stuck to your folds. Seungkwan reached down, hooking your legs over his so he could hold you open for everyone to see, his fingers tracing your exposed thighs and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You tried not to fold the moment you got his attention, you really did, but it was easier said than down when his touch skirted along the edge of your panties, so horribly close to your pussy that it made your hips back and your voice come out as a trembling whimper.

“Can you guys see how wet she is?” He asked, his voice dripping pure charm that only served to make your hold leak a little more. Then his fingers were pressing your panties against you, dragging them against your slicked clit in slow, torturous circles. You nearly sobbed, eyes opening to look up at him. The face that he looked breathtaking even from this angle was cruel, downright killer.

“She’s soaked already. You know, I knew she’d like being watched but I think she likes it almost as much as I do,” He laughed, and you huffed in protest, but he didn’t stop his touch regardless. “How many times do you think we can make her cum? Two? Three?”

You couldn’t bite your tongue this time, a scoff slipping out as your frustration built enough to sting between your thighs.

“Haven’t even proved you could make me cum once. How could they know how many times? Maybe one of them should just fuck me instead. Bet they’d be nice to me.” You snapped. You realized your mistake the moment you spoke. Seungkwan’s fingers stilled, his other hand coming up to grasp at your waist, tugging you hard enough that you couldn’t even consider not giving in. He guided you to flip over, settling you over his lap.

“Is that how you talk to me?” He asked, tugging your panties down to expose the curve of your ass to the cool air of his room. You shook your head harshly, trying to mumble out apologies, but only managing a series of pouty whines and please that he didn’t seem interested in listening to. “I didn’t fucking think so. I know you have manners, let’s make sure you use them next time.”

His hand came down, harsh and stinging against one side of your ass, your hips jolting and scrambling to escape the pain. He pulled them back into place, kneading your ass cheek beneath his palm.

“What do you say?” He asked. You buried your face in your arm, turning just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m sorry, baby, please,” You whimpered. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” He taunted. You didn’t have a chance to answer before he was spanking you again. This time it was less hard, but followed by two more just as quickly. You yelped, kicking your feet up helplessly to try and protect your backside. He just pushed them down, taking a moment to rub at the abused flesh before giving you one more. You sniffled, though there weren’t any tears, just a pathetic thrum of humiliation and arousal washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, nuzzling into his thigh and leaving a soft kiss there as if it would take away from your misbehavior.

“Thank you pretty girl. Did so well for me.” He praised, tipping your head up and leaning down to kiss you. The feeling took you by surprise, the softness of his lips against yours wasn’t something that had gone unimagined, but it was better in real life, and so vastly opposite his harsh discipline from moments before. Nevertheless, it was chaste, and his eyes were still dark when he pulled away.

“I think you deserve a reward for being so good. Used your manners and everything.” He brushed his fingers down the curve of your jaw, gentle and adoring, then his eyes flicked up towards the camera. “What do you think? Is it time for a reward?”

His voice was sweet, and you wiggled your hips, half hoping that it would sway the viewers to your side and coax him into making you cum. Your pussy was throbbing with the need to be touched, to be spread open and stretched out, and the feeling was beginning to become uncomfortable.

He hummed, not speaking as he read the comments, just carefully focusing on the scroll of words that you weren’t in the headspace to make out. Then he was knocking your thighs apart, keeping you laid out there over his lap, and sliding his fingers down to your needy cunt. He spread your wetness along your lower lips, coating his skin in it before stopping to flick them harshly along your clit, back and forth at such a pace that you wanted to close your thighs. The only thing keeping them open was his forearm laid against one of them and the awkward position that he had you laid in.

You bit back a desperate whine as your orgasm crashed into you surprisingly fast, your body writhing in his lap as he continued to work you through it, rubbing fast circles against your clit and leaving your walls to clench and flutter, unsatisfyingly empty. The orgasm did nothing but make you more desperate for him.

“Please,” You whined as you came down from it, need burning hot and heavy in your lower stomach. He smiled, using his clean hand to stroke your hair away from your face. “Wanna feel you inside,”

He groaned, although it was nearly closer to a whine, wordlessly complaining about your impatience, and the effect it was having on him, and how it was no doubt ruining his carefully thought out plans for the stream. He pouted, bottom lip jutting out at the camera as he read the influx of comments.

“Aish,” He hissed under his breath. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

You processed that he was talking to his viewers as he maneuvered you off of his lap so he could stand up. The bulge in his pants was obvious, the outline of his cock showing against the soft fabric. He didn’t do anything about it though, pulling you carefully to sit up instead, your back turned to the camera and you perched up on your knees. He pulled a spool of dark blue rope from his bedside drawer, moving your arms behind your back and carefully wrapping your wrists, trying your forearms together and giving them a tug. You hummed out a sound at the feeling, the slightest strain tugging in your shoulders and the rope rubbing against your arms leaving you with even more lava rushing through your veins.

He tipped your head up, making you look at him and silently questioning if you were comfortable enough. You nodded ever so slightly, looking up at your roommate with the widest lust blown eyes as if that would make him speed this whole ordeal up. You knew better though, knew he wouldn’t go easy on you. Especially not when you had an entire crowd to entertain.

“Needy little whore. Cute,” He hummed, pulling you around so that your back was facing him, your profiles to the camera. He pulled you back by your upper arm, catching you steadily against his chest when your balance gave way to his force. He reached around you, turning your chin up to catch your lips in a fast, messy kiss. It was all tongue, and saliva, and the taste of him as he practically devoured your mouth.

His hands roamed down your front, tracing your curves, down your stomach, before finally finding their way to your dripping core. He pulled your legs open wider, not caring about the little whimper that you let out in response to losing your balance again. After all, he had no intentions of letting you fall, and maybe you had a habit of forgetting how strong he was until he was keeping you upright with a single arm around you.

Two of his fingers slid through your folds, spreading them open for a third to tease against your hungry hole, sliding in slowly before sliding right back out and continuing to tease you. You were too breathless to complain, his lips leaving yours and dripping wet kisses down your neck and shoulder, then back up again, nipping at your earlobe before sucking what you were sure would be a very bold mark at the crook of your neck.

Then two of his fingers were filling you up, and your body threatened to fall forward, your legs trying to snap shut around his hand but in no position to do so. So instead he continued working you open, fingers fucking into you with the lewdest sound, pushing your wetness out and letting it run down his hand as he worked you open for him. You could feel his impatience in the way that he worked a third finger inside along with the first two, the sting earning a broken moan from you. It didn’t last, turning into a burning need for more, more, more. That’s all you could think about, greedy little whore. Just for him.

It took you a considerable moment to realize that he was the one whispering those words to you as he stuffed you full of his fingers, your mind getting lost somewhere along the way and focusing entirely on the sound of his voice, and the feeling of his bare chest pressed to your back, and your arms trapped between the two of you, and the beads of sweat slipping down your collarbone. You swore you could feel everything all at once and process none of it at all.

When he pulled his fingers out of you, you let out what could only be called a sob of devastation, and he laughed, easing you down so your weight was resting on your front, balanced carefully on your shoulder with your cheek pressed into the bed. You looked over at him as best as you could, watching him shuck off his pants and underwear so the both of you were completely naked. You could only just see the way his hand wrapped around his cock, fingers smearing your slick arousal onto his length as he tugged it slowly. He looked so pretty, the softly sculpted muscles of his stomach tensing, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he tried to get himself impossibly harder. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel his eyes fixated on the clenching of your pussy, the way you were leaking all over your thighs for him.

“Baby, please fuck me. Been waiting for so long, just…please.” You huffed, wiggling your hips back towards him, and you caught a momentary glimpse of his eyes clouding over as he watched you. His free hand came to knead one of your ass cheeks, spreading you open and taking in the way your hole was begging for him. He cursed under his breath, muttering something to the camera that you didn’t hear – and, quite frankly, didn’t give a shit about.

“Alright, pretty, just hold tight.”

Seungkwan guided his cock to tap against your folds a few times, then pressing into you slowly, inch by agonizing inch. He wasn’t terribly long, but he was thick enough that it brought the sting of tears as he filled you up. Your hands grasped at the air, not entirely able to grab anything but each other, which you did. Your back ached, burying your face deeper into his bedding to try and muffle the fucked out cry that left your lips as his cock dragged the length of your g-spot. Your stomach flipped and tightened as his hips stilled, pressed harshly against your ass. His hands were gripping your hips like a lifeline, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, pulling you back into him so he could hit just a little deeper inside of you.

You weren’t given an opportunity to find words before he was puling out of you and sliding home again, harder this time, a little faster, until his pace was set and his hips were meeting yours hard enough that you just knew your ass was turning pink. The only sounds in the room were the slick slide of his cock inside of you, the skin on skin of his hips meeting your backside, and the downright shattered moans that you were letting out with each of his thrusts, the sound stunted and jumpy as he fucked you dumb.

Seungkwan grabbed your bound arms, pulling you up onto your knees and using your shoulder as leverage to drag you back into him. Your entire body shuddered at the new angle, head dropping forward and mouth hanging open as drool pooled at the corner of your lips. Somehow, despite knowing what it was he did, it had never occurred to you that maybe Seungkwan was an absolute sex god.

The hand on your shoulder slipped around, fingers splaying prettily against your throat, not choking you but simply letting you know that he was there, that he could, and you groaned a string of curses as you lost all sense of space and time. The only thing that existed was him, his body, the way it was connecting with yours. Just the two of you and the breathless grunts that he let out against your neck.

“Gonna cum,” You warned him, your fingers managing to drag against his stomach as he fucked into you, and the next thing you knew your vision was bursting with white, and Seungkwan was growling as you came around him, squeezing him so tight that he could hardly even fuck you through it.

Your ears were ringing, and it felt a little like you were on a boat when he laid you down on your front again, pulling out to shoot his load onto the insides of your thighs, marking your skin with his seed and stroking himself through it. He was panting then, the first thing that you could process, and you listened to that sound alone, ignoring the slightly off putting feeling of his cum running down your legs. You just nuzzled deeper into his blankets, finally processing that he’d laid you down.

You faintly heard him say his goodbyes, thanking everyone for their gifts and promising to bring you back again soon if you were interested. It registered slowly that you’d been streaming with him that entire time, that you’d experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life in front of who knows how many people. But it didn’t matter, you couldn’t care. Not when he sat down beside you, the camera off, and reached down to stroke your hair away from your sweat-dampened face. You blinked up at him, a sleepy smile curling onto your face.

“How do you feel, pretty thing?” He asked, carefully freeing your arms and rolling you to lay on his back. He took his time to massage each arm from wrist to shoulder and back again, making sure that your circulation was okay, mostly since he was pretty well convinced that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you lost feeling in them completely.

“Good. Really good,” You told him, eyes heavy again, so you gave in and closed them.

“Good, I’m glad. You did so well, let me take such good care of you. But you gotta stay with me while I get you cleaned up, okay? You can do that right? Just stay with Kwannie,”

You hummed, your heart skipping in your chest. Kwannie, your Kwannie. You curled closer to him, cheek pressed against his still bare thigh, and he chuckled, reaching down to brush your cheek.

“Can you stay here while I go get a towel to clean you up? Then you can nap and we’ll shower later.”

You nodded thoughtlessly, and he took that as his sign to get up. When he did, however, you reached out to grab his wrist, and he turned as fast as humanly possible to look at you, eyes clouded over with worry.

“Are you gonna nap with me?” You asked, voice so tiny and heavy with sleep that he swore his heart might melt.

“Yeah pretty, I’ll sleep too. Just let me clean us up, okay?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you nodded obediently, not even trying to move a muscle and settle under the blankets. He disappeared from his room for a moment, grabbing a wet cloth and cleaning himself. A few minutes later he returned, finding you sound asleep, his pillow pulled up against your chest and your face squished into it.

Seungkwan looked at you, naked and surely chilly in his bed, but so entirely relaxed after sleeping with him, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest made him question if the two of you were ever really just friends to begin with.

copyright 2024 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[suzayaaa]

ೃ⁀➷ LEAVE, NOW ☆.｡.:*

𓆩⟡𓆪 pairing: jeno x fem!reader

𓆩⟡𓆪 word count: 1.6k

𓆩⟡𓆪 themes: angst, breakup

𓆩⟡𓆪 warnings: cursing, cheating

𓆩⟡𓆪 suza’s note: can i just say i’m proud of this one…

𓆩⟡𓆪 requested by some of you!

𓆩⟡𓆪 this is an additional part 2 of jeno’s texts in “when will you leave me?” post, but it also works as a separate oneshot if you don’t want to read the texts.

It hurt.

Your heart, your mind, your body. No part of you was able to keep itself strong, to have any kind of energy to be. You were tied to your bed, sinking into the cold sheets with each move like a lifeless animal on its last breath. The breath that hurt so much, grabbing your sore heart and squeezing it violently as you shut your eyes with tears down your cheeks because no matter where you looked, Jeno was there.

The sheets you were lying in wore the scent of his musky cologne. Most of the pictures on your wall were with him, of him, or the moments spent with him. Hell, even the wrinkled t-shirt you were wearing was his. But the worst of all, you only had him in your mind.

No matter where you went and what you did, he followed you like a spell that had to be undone by a witch to let go. In a way, he did put a spell on you—the moment that caused all of this replayed in your head like a broken record, mocking you ruthlessly until you begged on your knees to stop this madness.

The words you’d never imagined to hear, the situation you’d never imagined to happen.

It was a pretty day. Clouds formed what you could call a shadow of blinding sunlight dodging the skyscrapers to reach and lit up your face. A perfect day to surprise Jeno.

You did most of it almost automatically, like a routine. A takeout from his favorite restaurant in one hand and a bag filled with your clothes and skincare products in the other; everything needed for a sleepover.

After three years of calling yourself boyfriend and girlfriend, you were bound to have some sort of security in your relationship and maybe even further and more serious plans for the future. Jeno had suggested first to add your fingerprint to the doorlock of his apartment. You didn’t mind not having it before, but the offer made you smile. It sounded like the next, although tiny, step in your relationship.

You unlocked the door and entered quietly, hoping he wouldn’t be anywhere near the entrance. Just as you were about to put the bags down and take your shoes off, you heard two familiar male voices, but the words were more distant than ever.

“Wait, so you cheated?” Mark asked, voice cracking slightly.

The silence was excruciatingly long. Your heart froze, bruising with each second passing.

“We talked, then she kissed me.” Another pause, shorter, yet more damaging. “It was good… I felt something I never felt with her.”

Her.

He couldn’t even say your name properly.

You were a fool. A stupid, hopeless, desperate fool.

You were now just her, yet you still waited and hoped for him to reach out to you, explain himself, and apologize.

You damned yourself over and over and over again. You were the one who got hurt. Why did you want him back if he stabbed you right in the heart and twisted the knife inside?

Why did you want a cheater back?

Those words wouldn’t leave your mind even for a moment, trapping you in a self-pitying bubble that was too strong and too painful to break through.

You checked the time on your phone. It was still early afternoon, but time wanted to torture you, slowing down and rolling at its own distorted pace to make sure you took a hit with every thought that crossed your mind. Your phone was dry. The only notifications were a daily reminder from a mobile game you haven’t played for a good week and a text from Jaemin you were not ready to deal with yet. Swiping your fingers on both, your eyes clung to the lockscreen for a moment. Just yesterday you would smile looking at it; you and Jeno, beaming to the camera in a cat cafe. He was always so sweet, then he decided to ruin you in the worst way possible. You opened settings, quickly changing the photo to something that would sting your soul a little less. Now it was an old photo of your family dog that never liked you that much to begin with, but dislike was still better than betrayal.

The doorbell sound rang in your ears, forcing you to get up from your bed. You dragged your feet on the cold floor and made your way to the door. Your hand reached for the handle, opening it slowly, not expecting anyone. The sight knocked you down more than any bullet ever could.

Na Jaemin with a firm frown and behind him, the reason for it all.

Lee Jeno.

You wondered if this was how you’d looked like when you’d found out. Eyes glued to the floor, hunched back, arms limp, head down… Did you also look so lost, like the ground was sweeping from under your feet brutally slowly, letting you fall and bruise your body, letting your body take the damage for your mind? Did you also crumble to the ground, looking for any steady thing to hold onto, because hope wasn’t one of those things anymore?

You’d thought you would feel if you saw him. You imagined yourself over a hundred times screaming your lungs out at him, ripping the skin away from his bones, ending his world just like he ended yours.

You should’ve been mad. You should’ve grabbed him by his hoodie and torn him apart to pieces. You should’ve made his heart bleed slowly and painfully, blood dripping on the floor one by one, drip, drip, drip until he was drowning in it. You should’ve ripped your throat yelling every insult you could think of into his face.

You were static. No screams, no cries, no choked-up laughs. You just looked at him, trying to meet his eyes for once. You wanted to get into his arms, cry into his chest, silently blame him for all the pain he had caused. You wanted to understand, but you have never wanted his pain. You have never wanted him to be the same wreck you were now, because nothing hurt more than seeing someone you love being hurt.

“I’m sorry for bringing him,” Jaemin glared at his friend, “but I think he needs to explain himself. It’s better for both of you if you do it immediately.”

Jaemin bowed his head to you, eyes softening in a mix of pity and compassion when he looked at you. He didn’t say anything more, opting to leave you both alone with no choice but to face the inevitable.

“I’m sor-”

“Take your things please.”

Serenity was the look on his face when his eyes met yours. It was clear, clearer than the day you’d found out, that he already knew and expected.

“You won’t even let me explain?”

“Get inside and take your things.”

You didn’t want to let him talk. If you did, your mind would listen to your heart and you would let him stay a little longer.

You watched him get past you into your apartment, muscle memory leading him to your bedroom. You followed him, but stayed at the door. He was quick to start shuffling around your room, taking any belongings of his he could see.

Jeno had always been careful. Those little details you forgot about, like leaving your jewelry in your bathroom after showering or losing your phone somewhere in the sheets every time the alarm went off, Jeno had never missed out on. He almost knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew how to wound you and he still did it, even adding salt to it, making sure the suffering was obvious.

You watched him throw his clothes into the bag he’d once left at your place, arms crossed and a sour frown on your dried face. His back was facing you, thankfully, because you wouldn’t be able to say the things you wanted to his face without shattering your soul entirely.

“I thought I knew you,” you started. Jeno halted his movements, but didn’t turn around, “I thought you were…” the one? No. You wouldn’t say it to him now, he didn’t deserve to know. Choking the tears inside, you continued, fists turning into stone, knuckles white, hiccups turning into venom on your tongue, “You were so casual saying it… You don’t even regret it, do you? You don’t fucking care. You never did.”

Jeno’s voice was hoarse, barely audible even in the uncomfortable silence. “I did.”

A scoff and a single laughter. “No. If you did, you would think about me at that moment. You would think about hurting me, you would care about me, but you didn’t. You don’t care… You know what? Nevermind. Leave, Jaemin will take your shit.”

The bag dropped on the floor with a thud. No words were said anymore, nothing needed to be said; it was over. You met Jeno’s eyes for the last time, stone cold, as if you were a burden or a meaningless obstacle on his way. His shoulder was harsh when he bumped into you, and for a short moment when he’d reached for the door, you hoped.

Maybe a simple sorry would do, maybe it would only crush you more. You wouldn’t know, you let his actions speak instead of words.

The door slam was your goodbye.

Tears flooded your already swollen face, your whole body shaking uncontrollably, sinking into the floor. At that moment, a memory echoed in your mind. A piece of conversation with Jeno you would’ve never thought about, but now, when it was all you could hear, a bitter smile barely creeping up to your face, realizing you always knew.

“When will you leave me?”

“I won’t, baby.”

“Don’t lie, everybody leaves. Some just do it later than others.”