#And I guess after the world cup he realised he wanted it after all?

[mchiti]

all my moroccans friends are hating on brahim diaz. He came on during the derby and my instagram feed was full of people hating. Bru I don't know what to feel about him but I hate hating so much. You know

[i2sunric]

𝗙𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (l.hs)

right person, wrong time.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: idol!heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: when you were a child, you had always believed your life was a fairytale, but as you grew up you realised it was just a childish thought. because your story didn’t end with happily ever after.

WARNINGS: heartbreak, break up, heeseung barely has time for reader, he’s a little in denial, reader tries to be strong for the both of them, angst, established relationship, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th November 2024

WC: 3.1k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @senascoooop @mitmit01 (project) @whateverhoon

NOW PLAYING: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you entered the quaint café tucked into the corner of the bustling city street.

It was your sanctuary on most days—a place where time slowed down, where you could read in peace.

When your college life got a little too stressful, you liked to give yourself an afternoon of rest, where you could read and just look at all the people around you, while also enjoying a cup of coffee.

The soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of porcelain cups created a soothing symphony that you had come to associate with comfort.

But today, your usual spot by the window was taken.

Your eyes landed on the stranger sitting there, his face buried in a notebook.

His sharp features were softened by the sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating his messy, dark hair. He looked completely engrossed in whatever he was working on, his pen flying across the page with an intensity that piqued your curiosity. Like he was creating a masterpiece.

But whatever he was doing didn’t matter, since he was sitting in your usual spot. Even the owner knew you always sat there and sometimes left you encouraging notes.

Reluctantly, you found another seat, tucked in the corner, and tried to focus on your book. Nonetheless your gaze kept drifting back to him.

There was something magnetic about the way he existed in his own little world, his brow furrowing as he worked, his lips occasionally quirking up in a small smile as if he were amusing himself with his thoughts.

He was truly enchanting in his whole being.

When he finally looked up, your eyes met. You froze, caught in the act of staring, but instead of looking annoyed, he smiled—wide and genuine, as if he’d just caught an old friend sneaking glances at him.

You unconsciously frowned and averted your gaze, feeling awkward.

Though, you glanced at him again with the former of your eye, “You can sit here if you want,” he called out, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.

Caught off guard, you hesitated a little before grabbing your coffee and book, making your way over. “Thanks,” you murmured, settling into the seat.

You melted into the seat right away, loving the feeling of familiarity. You didn’t particularly enjoy your routine being messed up.

“No problem,” he said, closing his notebook but leaving his pen resting on top. “I always feel bad taking up spots when it’s this busy.”

You glanced down at the notebook, curious but polite enough not to ask. “You looked pretty focused,” you said. “Are you a writer?”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Kind of, I write music.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s impressive.”

He laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Most of the time, I’m just scribbling nonsense and hoping something good comes out of it.”

“Still,” you said, “It takes a lot of creativity to do that. I can barely write an email without second-guessing myself.”

He grinned. “It’s not about perfection, it’s about letting yourself be…” he pointed at himself “messy.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. You learned his name— Lee Heeseung —and that he was a dreamer through and through. He talked about his music with a passion that lit up his eyes, about the things he wanted to create and the places he wanted to see.

You found out that he was preparing a song to audition at a famous local music label, hoping to become a trainee and debut later on.

It was impressive, how he was young yet so engrossed in his dream. It made you a little jealous, too.

“I think life is about chasing what makes you feel alive,” he said at one point, his gaze distant as if he were imagining it all. Picturing his future together.

You couldn’t help but smile, though your own perspective was far more grounded. “I think life is about appreciating the small things,” you countered. “Like this coffee, or a really good book.”

You tapped your nails on the mug, “Chasing big dreams is great, but if you’re always looking ahead, you miss what’s right in front of you.”

Heeseung tilted his head, considering your words. “I guess I never thought about it that way,” he admitted. “But doesn’t staying still scare you? Like you’re missing out on something bigger?”

“And doesn’t constantly moving forward scare you?” you shot back. “Like you’re missing what’s already here?”

He laughed, the sound warm and light. “Touché. I think we might be complete opposites.”

“Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But opposites can complement each other, right?”

He smiled back, and in that moment, something shifted between you. It was as if the universe had nudged you toward each other, two different pieces of the same puzzle finally fitting together.

It didn’t take much for the two of you to levitate closer, to the point of going from casual reading-writing hangouts to dates.

Fitting both of your schedules was difficult, but those little hours you spent together were worth it all.

It was one of the rare days where Heeseung was free from any training sessions, and instead of getting his much needed rest, he decided to spend his afternoon with you

Despite nagging at him for his lack of self-care, you were secretly glad he was making time for you, even if it was just for a couple of hours.

The sun was high in the sky, its golden rays filtering through the trees as you and Heeseung lay on the grass in the park.

A blanket was spread out beneath you, scattered with remnants of your picnic, empty containers, a couple of soda cans, and a half-eaten bagel. All the strawberries had been eaten, though.

Heeseung was strumming his guitar lazily, the soft melody weaving through the air. You were lying on your back, staring up at the clouds, feeling the kind of peace that only came from moments like this—unhurried, unplanned, perfect in their simplicity.

“Look,” you said, pointing to a fluffy cloud drifting overhead. “Doesn’t that one look like a cat?”

Heeseung stopped playing and tilted his head, squinting at the sky. “A cat? No way. That’s totally a dragon.”

You laughed, nudging him with your foot. “You’re just saying that because you like dragons.”

“And you’re just saying cat because you’re obsessed with them,” he teased, leaning back on his elbows to look at you. “Admit it, I’m right.”

“Never,” you said with a grin, sticking out your tongue.

Heeseung set his guitar aside and rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he looked at you. “You’re so stubborn,” he said, but there was no annoyance in his voice—only affection.

“Someone has to keep you on your toes,” you quipped, your smile softening under his gaze.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You know,” he said quietly, “I think this might be my favourite day ever.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but you couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just a picnic,” you said, trying to downplay the fluttering in your chest.

“It’s not just a picnic,” he said, his voice serious now. “It’s this. Being here with you, doing nothing, and feeling like it’s everything.”

It was true that song writers had their way with words.

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Heeseung, the grass beneath you, the sky above, and the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.

You climbed onto his lap, sneaking in between his chest and his guitar.

“Teach me how to play it,” You said, which sounded so silly. You didn’t even know how to read notes, so you were a lost cause.

But you wanted to spend time with him, doing something he liked— so, you placed your fingers on the cords.

Heeseung smiled and placed his slender ones over yours, guiding your hand to create a melody.

“Middle finger here.” He whispered, his hand moving your fingers “Index here, and with the other hand you…” He stroked your fingers on the cords.

You giggled happily “It sounded good.” You tried to do it again and again, until he showed you all the notes and melodies. Until the sun lowered, leaving a magenta and pinkish sky behind.

“I’ll be busy for a while.” He announced as he put his guitar back in its folder “I- uh, I have just one more month until I know if I’m in the debut group.”

You widened your eyes at the information, a warm feeling in your belly “Hee… that’s amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Like the habit of a lifetime, his arms held your waist, his face burying in the crook of your neck.

“We might have less time together,” He murmured, his nose brushing your jaw, the sensation causing goosebumps to prickle your skin.

“We’ll figure it out, yeah?” You said, holding his face in your hands “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Your words caused a childlike smile to spread on his lips, and just a couple of seconds later, they crashed on yours.

You drowned in the feeling of him, so sweet and intoxicating.

“I love you.” Heeseung repeated those three words like a mantra “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” You replied, being so close to him even if it didn’t feel close enough “I always will.”

The café had always been your place. The corner table by the window where sunlight streamed in during the mornings and rain traced delicate patterns on the glass during stormy afternoons. It was where you and Heeseung had spent countless hours together—talking, laughing, and dreaming of a future that now felt so far away.

It hadn’t changed. The same rustic charm, the same scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries, the same corner table by the window. You almost smiled as you stepped inside, but the weight in your chest reminded you why you were here.

The café hadn’t changed, but today, the warmth of those memories was overshadowed by the tension that hung between you like a storm cloud, ready to burst. Just like the one outside.

Heeseung was already waiting, his tall frame hunched slightly over his coffee. His fingers fidgeted with the rim of the cup, a nervous habit you recognized instantly. He didn’t look up when the bell over the door chimed. You wondered if he was gathering his thoughts just as you were.

For a moment, you stood frozen, debating whether to walk back out and pretend you hadn’t come. Pretend nothing was wrong and it was all just a bad dream.

That you’d wake up in his arms again, with his messy hair and soothing voice, reminding you how fortunate he was to have someone like you.

But then his head lifted, and his eyes found yours. A small, uncertain smile tugged at his lips, and despite everything, it made your heart ache.

“Hey,” he greeted as you approached, his voice soft but strained.

“Hi,” you replied, sliding into the seat across from him.

Up close, you noticed how tired he looked. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually bright demeanor seemed dimmed, weighed down by the invisible tension between you. You wondered if you looked the same.

Heeseung shifted in his seat, his fingers still fidgeting. “Thanks for coming,” he said after a moment.

You nodded, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen this coming. The late-night texts that dwindled into silence. The calls that went unanswered. The months of trying to hold on, even as the cracks in your relationship grew deeper.

“How’s… everything?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.

Heeseung hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Busy,” he admitted. “Rehearsals, schedules… you know how it is.”

Yes, because Heeseung had managed to debut, and his group had a large audience, growing famous even overseas. It was a surprise he came in a public place, without something to cover himself with.

You nodded again, the lump in your throat growing. Of course, you knew. His career had always been demanding, and you’d tried so hard to understand, to support him even when it meant putting your own needs aside.

But you were tired. Tired of being a second choice, tired of all the dates where he stood you up, all the excuses.

You needed stability in your life, and Heeseung couldn’t give you that. Not anymore.

“I missed you.” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your breath hitched. “I missed you too.”

You tried to focus on the rain outside, but the sound of his quiet sigh brought your attention back to him. His usually bright eyes were clouded, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on both of you.

“This isn’t how I thought it would go,” his voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if speaking the words aloud might make them more real.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around your cup. “Neither did I,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The truth was, you had both tried—tried to hold on, to make it work despite the endless obstacles. His chaotic schedule, your demanding responsibilities, the miles that always seemed to stretch too far between you. But no matter how much love there was between you, reality had a way of tearing at the seams.

“I feel like I’m failing you,” Heeseung said, his voice trembling slightly. He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of guilt and heartbreak. “Like I can’t give you what you need, no matter how much I want to.”

Your chest tightened at his words. “You’re not failing me,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Heeseung, you’ve always given me everything you could. But maybe… maybe it’s just not enough anymore.”

The admission hung heavy in the air, and you hated yourself for saying it. But it was the truth. Love wasn’t supposed to feel this hard, was it?

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired—tired in a way that went beyond the late nights and endless rehearsals. “I thought love was supposed to be enough,” he murmured, echoing your thoughts.

You wanted to reach out, to take his hand and tell him that it was enough. That he was enough. But deep down, you both knew that wasn’t true.

“It’s not about love,” you said quietly. “It’s about timing. And right now… it feels like the world is against us.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes dropping to the table. “So what are you saying?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You hesitated, your heart breaking as you forced yourself to say the words. “I’m saying that maybe we need to let each other go.”

His head shot up, his eyes wide and filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “We can figure this out. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? We can keep trying.”

But the desperation in his voice only made it harder. You had been trying for so long, and the effort had left you both exhausted. “Heeseung,” you said softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “What if trying is what’s hurting us?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Heeseung’s hands tightened into fists, his knuckles turning white. “This isn’t fair,” he said, his voice cracking. “I love you. I love you more than anything, and it’s not fair that we have to end like this.”

You reached out then, your hand covering his. His skin was warm, but the touch felt fleeting, like trying to hold onto sand slipping through your fingers. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough to fix everything. It’s better if we let go.”

Heeseung’s head shook, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “You don’t mean that,” he said, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to mean it,” you said, your voice breaking. “But we’re tearing ourselves apart trying to hold on, Heeseung. And I don’t want us to end up resenting each other because of it.”

His hand tightened around yours, his grip almost desperate. “I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

The rain outside grew heavier, the sound filling the empty space between you.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Heeseung said suddenly, his voice thick with emotion. “And the thought of not having you in my life… I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. “You’ll be okay and so will I,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “And maybe someday… when the timing is right, we’ll find our way back to each other.”

Heeseung let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours. “Someday,” he repeated, though the word felt more like a wish than a promise.

You stayed like that for a moment, holding onto each other as if the world might stop if you let go. But eventually, you pulled away, your heart breaking as you stood.

“I’ll always love you,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the rain.

Heeseung looked up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you too.”

And with that, you turned and walked out into the storm, the sound of the rain mixing with the quiet sobs you could no longer hold back.

You didn’t look back, afraid that if you did, you might never be able to leave. But even as you walked away, you carried him with you—his voice, his laughter, his love.

It wasn’t the ending you wanted. But not all the stories ended happily ever after.

[violettwrites]

teddy bear 🏹 daryl dixon

summary: just pure dad!daryl fluff tbh

author’s note: genuinely i was just trying to sleep when this popped into my brain and i had to get out of bed to write it otherwise it would have been lost forever. i hope you enjoy !

if you liked my work, please leave a like, reblog, and don’t forget to follow to keep up with my writing ! 🫶🏻 as always, requests are open

warnings: nada

word count: 1,555k

by the time daryl had realised he actually wanted kids, he thought it was too late. that he was too old to be a dad, and he’d be stuck with the “uncle daryl” title for the rest of his life. it hurt him, sometimes, thinking he couldn’t give you what you both wanted, and constantly kicked himself for thinking he didn’t want to raise a child in a world like this. you never blamed him either, for not wanting children. because he was right. this world wasn’t exactly made for kids.

daryl would constantly watch you with the kids in the community, the sight of you with children tugging at his heart strings, wishing they were your own children. and he’d sit and wonder what they’d look like. would they have his blue eyes? your nose? his loyalty? your loving heart? it made him regret what he had told you all those years ago, and how you simply agreed with him. because what if you didn’t want kids anymore either.

so when daryl climbed into bed with you one night, his chest pressed against your back with his arm wrapped around your waist, he had mumbled something that you didn’t quite catch.

“is it too late to ‘ave kids?” he spoke a little louder, his gravelly voice low in your ear. you felt your stomach flip at his words, turning around in his arms to face him, looking into his steel blue eyes.

“you want kids?” you questioned, a hand reaching up to cup his cheek and gently stroke your thumb across his cheekbone as he nodded his head, avoiding eye contact with you in case he had said the wrong thing. “i would love nothing more than to have your babies, dixon.” you chuckled softly, a small smile on your lips. “but only if you’re sure.”

“i’m sure.” he mumbled, his forehead pressing against yours. he may have sounded blunt, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he had never been more sure of himself.

“i guess we’re gonna have a baby then, hey?” you giggled, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips as he wrapped his arm around you tighter, pulling your body on top of his.

— — —

you had been trying for what felt like forever for a baby, but there had been no signs of any little bundle of joy showing up in your lives anytime soon. until one day you had just woken up with this… feeling. you weren’t 100% sure that it was something, but you also thought it couldn’t be nothing. so you had made your way into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers for the pregnancy tests you had found on a run a few months ago ( because you never knew when you’d need one ) and took the test. you paced anxiously in the small bathroom, chewing on the skin around your nails as you waited for what felt like forever, but was only a couple minutes before you flipped the test back over, seeing the little positive sign on the test.

absolutely overjoyed that you had actually managed to get pregnant, you couldn’t wait for daryl to come back home and ran out into the community to find him. you had located him by the front gates, running over to him.

when daryl saw you running towards him, his first reaction was to panic. he thought something was wrong, that something bad had happened to you, but when you had said those two words that he had been waiting months to hear, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, lifting you up off the ground and swinging you around.

“y’aint lyin’?” he looked at you after he put you back down on the ground, watching as you shook youre head with a huge smile on your face. “oh my god, ‘m gonna be a dad,” he grinned, hugging you tightly once more. “yer gonna be a momma, ‘m gonna be a daddy.”

“you’re gonna be the best daddy.” you squeezed him back just as tight, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

— — —

throughout your pregnancy, daryl had been amazing. he made sure you were always comfortable, that you had eaten enough— and would even try to give you food off his own plate. even if you protested every time. “don’ care. baby’s gotta eat,” he’d huff, scraping his food onto your plate, ignoring your huffs.

he’d make sure you didn’t do anything to strenuous, and when you were further along in your pregnancy, he would try to be by your side as much as he could. and when he couldn’t, he’d send carol to look after you. you’d tell him you didn’t need to be babysat, but he’d simply ignore you. because he wanted nothing more than to keep you both safe.

when you had gone into labour, he had ran to get siddiq, leaving you back at the house with carol just until he got back. he held your hand the entire time, letting you squeeze as hard as you needed too. and you were sure you were on the verge of breaking his hand multiple times, but he didn’t wince once. because he knew what you were going through right now was ten times worse than a broken hand.

“i can’t— i can’t do this.” tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, hours of being in labour had exhausted you, but you were so close. so close to delivering that little baby that you both wanted so badly.

he wiped the sweat from your forehead, brushing away your hair that had clung to your skin and pressed kisses to your face. “you can do this, baby. yer strong, ‘kay?” he encouraged you, squeezing your hand. “plus, i don’ think there’s any backin’ out now.” he tried to joke, but you just groaned, your head falling back as siddiq instructed you to push again.

when daryl heard the little cries coming from the little baby, he squeezed your hand once more, kissing all over your face. “ya did it, sweetheart. ‘m so proud of you.” he murmured, looking at siddiq as he had announced it was a boy. “a lil boy, we have a son.”

he watched as siddiq wrapped him up, placing the tiny little baby on your chest before stepping out of the room to give the both of you some privacy. you both stared in awe at the baby in your arms, your pinkie finger tracing over his tiny, delicate features.

“he looks like you,” you whispered, looking up at daryl with an exhausted smile.

“ya think?” he asked, his large hand brushing against the baby’s cheek, in absolute awe that the both of you had created something so precious. so beautiful.

“yeah. he’s got your nose, and your lips.” you pointed out, fingers tracing over each feature as you listed them off. and when your little boy opened his eyes for the first time, you grinned. “and he’s got your eyes. i’ve literally just given birth to a mini daryl dixon.” you rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head.

when it came time for daryl to hold him, he was told to take his shirt off when he held him. you watched as there was no hesitation in him taking off his top as he sat down, his large hands gently taking the baby from your hands. you noticed how much tinier he looked in daryl’s hands, and your heart swelled with happiness.

“wha’ do we name ‘im?” daryl asked, eyes not leaving his little miracle once.

“i like theodore. teddy for short.” you looked at him for his opinion, and he had nodded his head, finally looking over to you with the proudest look on his face.

“theodore dixon. my lil teddy bear.” you heard a sniffle come from him, noticing the tears in his eyes as he looked at teddy. “thank ya, baby. don’ think ya know how much ya both mean t’ me.”

— — —

as teddy got older, being a dad had really changed daryl. he was ( obviously ) super protective over his little teddy bear, not letting him out of his sight if you weren’t around. and when he got to that wild toddler phase, daryl was having the time of his life. he loved to chase after his son, watching as his little legs carried him as fast as he could to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs for protection from the tickle monster. or how his giggles never seemed to end when daryl was blowing raspberries on his tummy. daryl was full of pure bliss when it came to his family.

he loved to lift teddy up onto his shoulders, walking through the community with the proudest smile on his face. and he especially loved when teddy would crawl up between the two of you in bed, planting himself right in between his two favourite people. when teddy had a bad dream? daryl was there. when he fell over for the first time? daryl was there brushing his tears away and kissing his sore knees better.

it made your heart swell at how much of an amazing dad daryl was, and you wouldn’t have picked anyone else to raise a child with in this world.

[holylulusworld]

If the Impala is rocking…

Summary: If the Impala is rocking…

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: hangover, crack, implied smut

“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly. Sitting up was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Fuck. Your head feels like it’s going to explode. Your throat is drier than any desert, and we don’t want to talk about the kinks in your back and neck.

“Fuck me, twice,” you groan, and bury your face in your hands. Waking up in the backseat of the Impala, butt-naked and hungover wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. “What the fuck got into me last night?”

“I guess,” Dean slowly rises from the front seat, looking as bad as you. He cups his head with one hand, groaning as he’s experiencing the worst hangover ever, “that was me. I’m not sure, though.”

“You’re not sure?” You’d like to snicker, but your head is killing you. “Did we play hide the salami or not?” You move forward and bend over the passenger seat to get a look at Dean. He rubs his forehead, trying to remember if you had sex or not. “Well, you’re naked too.”

“I can see that, Sherlock,” he grunts, immediately covering his crotch with both hands. Yes, it’s that big. “This doesn’t mean we had sex. Let me try to remember. I need coffee first…”

“Hmm…can you take your hands off your crotch?” You point at this crotch, smirking cockily. “Maybe I remember better if I see him again.” You wiggle your eyebrows and snicker.

Dean gives you a bitchface. “You’re a little too eager, sweetheart,” he half laughs, half grunts because his head is killing him too. “I told you to give me a moment to remember if I ruined you last night.”

You snort. “Maybe I ruined you. If I go for a rodeo, I do it thoroughly.”

This time, Dean snorts. “Let’s look for evidence.” He wiggles in the front seat, looking around the car. “Hmm…nothing is out of order.”

“You are naked, me too. How can you say nothing is out of order?”

“There is no used condom, and my dick doesn’t feel like he got action last night,” Dean says. “Trust me, I’d know if we christened Baby.”

“Your dick doesn’t��what?” You giggle. “Seriously, Dean? I feel like I’ll be sore for a week.” You point at your crotch. Dean cranes his neck. Just now he realises, you’re naked too. His cheeks turn pink, and he drops his eyes to his crotch.

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, if you don’t know why I’m sore, I had fun in the backseat on my own, and or with your brother,” you deadpan before sitting back down in the backseat. “Fuck, I should look for my clothes.”

“You’re sore because I rocked your world,” he says while wiggling in the front seat. He points at something on the backseat, a cocky smirk on his face.

Your eyes drift toward the thing catching his attention. A used condom along with your panties. “I told you I’m sore.”

“Yeah, but you got my dick last night, not Sammy’s!” He points out. “I had you begging for more in no time.”

“You remember now?” you rub your forehead. Your memory of the last night is still foggy. All you remember is that Dean and you took a bottle home and decided to have a little victory celebration in the Impala. You parked the car in the garage of the bunker, and the rest is a blur.

“No, but the condom and your well-fucked pussy tell me so.” You roll your eyes. “What? I’m not lying.” Dean insists.

“Well, how about you remind me and come over here,” you smirk at Dean. “Only if little Dean is ready for a second round.”

“Damnit, sweetheart,” you giggle as Dean gets out of the car only to open the door to the backseat. He pounces on you, making you squeal and giggle. “I’m going to rock your world again.”

Fifteen minutes later you watch a very disturbed Sam run for the hills.

He made the mistake of opening the door to the backseat only to find you and his brother ruin the backseat.

“Sorry, Sammy!” You call after him.

“I’m not sorry,” Dean grunts. “If the Impala is rocking, don’t enter it! You should know better…”

Tags in reblog.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 8 - The Lightening King

Chapter Summary - A storm hits, igniting an unexpected fear from one of the boys, and bringing him a little closer to Y/N. Y/N decides to investigate Hongjoong's office while home alone.

warnings: trauma-induced fear, oral (f receiving)

Series Masterlist

MINORS NOT ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT

It had been a long time since I'd had company during a storm. However, it was still the same as it was before. I had no one to turn to.

I had been in the kitchen since about 2am, waiting for the storm to pass while sipping on some water to calm my nerves. It was worse when I was alone living in that crappy apartment, I'd usually cower in my bathroom until the storm would pass.

I was sitting on the kitchen counter, far away from the window by the sink. I was usually calm this time, like something supernatural was comforting me. As I sat, another crack of lightning illuminated the room, revealing a silhouette in the doorway.

I let out a yell, luckily muffled by a boom of thunder. The silhouette steps out of the dark, revealing Jongho watching me with a puzzled expression.

"You scared me!" I snap.

"Why are you awake?" He asks, his voice rough from sleep. He steps a little closer, I notice he glances at the window briefly before moving away from it. "I went to check on you-" He shuts his mouth quickly.

"What?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. Did he go into my room?

He stays silent, avoiding eye contact. He sighs, hopping up onto the counter beside me, not looking at me as I just stare at him dumbfounded. This is probably the longest we'd stayed in a room alone together.

He glances at my wrist, his eyes scanning over the healing area. "Does it hurt?" He asks softly, looking at me.

I glance at him before looking down at the cup in my hands. "Not anymore," I answer. The bruise had died down after a few days, I kept it uncovered on purpose so I could rub it in Seonghwa's face a little.

He refused to look at me, not even in passing. Wooyoung and Hongjoong had tried to speak to me, but I'd ignored them. That's what they get for doing nothing. Wooyoung had gotten pouty once he realised I was ignoring him, whining whenever I'd walk away from him if he wanted to talk about his day. Hongjoong seemed to not care, his infuriating grin visible even in my peripherals.

I missed Seonghwa a little, which was strange considering what he had done. Maybe I missed the idea he had fatuated for me.

"Y/N?" Jongho calls out softly, causing me to snap out of my thoughts. "I am sorry... About all this."

"Why are you apologising?" It wasn't his fault, I was the one who agreed to do this, I wasn't forced.

"We should have warned you about things." He says, staring down at his feet that dangled. I took a moment to take in his attire. Rarely did I see them in something as basic as a shirt and sweatpants. Jongho only wore a baggy shirt and grey sweatpants in that moment, a look I could have never imagined on him up until this point.

"I knew I was getting into something shady." I say, "So don't feel bad for me."

Jongho hums softly, glancing at me briefly. "Why are you up so late?" He asks, looking me in the eye for the very first time. His eyes were so calm. Something about them made me want to fall into them and never return to this world.

"I'm scared of thunder." I say, causing him to raise his eyebrow. "You better not laugh." I huff.

"No, it's fine." He chuckles. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't like lightning."

I stiffle a snort. Big, gruff and scary Jongho is scared of lightning? Who would have guessed.

"I'm not laughing at you!" He complains, a small smile spreading across his lips.

"Is there a reason?" I ask, placing my cup down on the counter.

"I suppose." He says, face dropping. "Does your fear of thunder have a reason?" I nod in answer.

The night I left, my father chased me up the stairs in rage. I never thought he'd actually cared that much about my presence to be so angry that I had made it into the Society. I managed to lock myself in my room, but the banging on my door went on for hours. The profanities, the promise of my death, every possible name or slur under the sun was thrown at me that night. I managed to pack a bag and sneak out of my bedroom window, not even bothering with goodbyes.

My mother never came to help. No one did. My sister was too weak at that time to plead with him, and as far as I knew, Chalita was dead. I had no one.

I told Jongho the part about my father, I'd never told anyone about it before. But something about the boy next to me made me want to open up to him, to tell him everything.

He listened, his eyes never leaving my face as I talked for what felt like hours.

"I'm sorry." He says softly, hesitating for my hand before pulling away. "No child should ever go through something like that."

I nod in agreement. I'd come to terms with my shit childhood long ago, like most children of abuse do at a certain age. Though it sticks, you grow from it and vow to never repeat those actions again.

"What about you?" I ask suddenly.

"Me?"

"Why're you scared of lightning?" I ask.

Jongho looks around the kitchen for a moment before speaking. "When I was little, my house caught on fire. Electrical wire in my dads workshop caught on fire while I was at school. My younger brother decided to stay home that day too." He explains.

"I wasn't even there... Yet, for some reason, whenever I see lightning or wires just laying around, I get scared." I nod in understanding, and unlike him, I don't hesitate to take his hand. He looks at me, somewhat shocked before squeezing slightly.

"How old were you?" I ask.

"11." He answers. "I didn't grow up in this life. My families riches was nothing compared to this." He says, gesturing around, referring to the house in general.

"How did you get here then?" I ask.

"Yeosang found me." He says, looking towards the centre island. "I was working as a bouncer for a bar back in college and dealing with these two guys tryna get in without ID. Guess he liked me." He chuckles. I smile at his story. "By the time he convinced me to meet Hongjoong, everyone was almost here. Well, except Wooyoung." He states. "Wooyoung was the last to join."

I listen intently, picking up the small crumbs that I could about these men.

"They aren't that bad." He says, noticing my analysing. "They just... We all have our issues."

"Issues that involve threatening me?" I say, giving him a deadpanned look.

"Well, that was a bit much, I agree." He says with a sigh, looking down sheepishly.

"I just want to be accepted properly." I say, hopping off of the counter to stand in front of him. "I want to know you guys, I don't want to be an outcast or some woman that will one day give Hongjoong an heir." He flinches at my last sentence. I guess they didn't know that I knew of their true intentions.

Asami had laid it out for me during the brunch. I could respect her bluntness in all honesty.

"I don't want to be just an incubator."

"You're more than that." He blurts out. "Mingi can see it. I can see it." He hops down from the counter also, standing in front of me. "Look, I don't want to make excuses for them because what Seonghwa did was wrong." He says, gently tilting my chin up to look at him. "But that doesn't mean that they aren't trying."

"Well... They're not trying very hard." I grumble, causing him to chuckle. A rumble of thunder, which makes me jump in surprise, gripping Jongho's forarms tightly.

"Come on." He says, taking my hand and tugging me along. I follow mindlessly, as he leads me back towards the stairs and to my bedroom.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep." He offers, closing my door behind us. I head to my bed, not hesitating to jump onto the soft sheets. He comes to sit beside me, his feet still firmly on the floor as I sit up to look at him.

"You don't have to." I say softly, but he doesn't get up, only shifting a little closer.

"I want to." He whispers. "I know I don't talk much." He starts, his breath fanning across my face. "But I think you are one of the prettiest women I have ever laid eyes on."

In an instant, I feel his lips on mine, his tongue running across my lower lip seeking entry. I grant it, much to my own surprise, humming softly as he gently moves me to lay down against the soft cushions.

A heat stirs inside me as he pulls away, his hard gaze boaring down at me so intensely my skin felt on fire. I pull him down again, tangling my fingers in his hair, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. He grinds his hips down on mine, desperately seeking friction as his hands scrunch up the sheets around my head.

"Do you want this?" He whispers, his lips hovering close to my ear.

"Yes." I say, voice could barely be heard over the thundering of rain outside. But, he heard me. His lips moved to my jaw, then to my neck, then finally his fingers unbuttoned the first button of my pyjama top to reveal my collarbone and top of my cleavage. He left soft bites and sloppy kisses there. My hand stayed behind his head as he went, my fingers tugging on his hair lightly with every little nibble he punctured into my skin.

He looked up at me through hooded eyes before moving down, his hands spreading my thighs further apart to make space for him before his hands found the waistband of my shorts. A flicker of question flashed into his eyes, darkening once more when I nodded.

He pulls my shorts and panties down together, throwing them towards the end of the bed before lifting my thighs to rest on his shoulders. I could feel his breath, cold against the searing heat of my core.

I laid my head back, waiting for contact with bated breath. He moved his head forward, pressing his tongue flat against my clit to test the waters. When my body jolts, he moves to my core, groaning at the taste before beginning to devour me like it's his last meal.

The storm outside is forgotten. All I can feel is the way Jongho explores and brings me pleasure I have never felt before with only his tongue. I look down, my eyes meeting his as he watches my every reaction, my bodies movements, and facial expressions with every flick of his tongue. He reaches a thumb up to gently circle my clit, causing me to let out a soft gasp.

My moans are soft and high pitched, only stirring him in more as he presses his face impossibly closer, practically smothering himself with my slick.

I can feel my orgasm approaching, the cord in my stomach tightening as I neared the edge. I knew he could tell, the way his thumb moved faster over my clit, bringing me closer and closer as if coaxing me towards release.

I felt something snap, letting out a soft cry as the pleasure washed over me. He helped me through it, not pulling away until my body fell limp and my breathing steadied. He slowly moves back up my body, pressing a gentle kiss to my forhead before laying down beside me.

"What about you?" I ask softly, my voice hoarse.

"I'll be fine." He answers, his strong arm pulling me closer. "You can return the favour another day."

Feeling watched wasn't an odd thing. It had started since the first time I noticed Aurora's portrait, and I found a comfort in it.

The presence didn't feel hostile, despite the lack of affection from the men I lived with, making this odd prison feel a little warmer.

I heard a call of my name on the breeze as it flowed through the winding halls of the estate. It was as if it was beckoning me towards Hongjoongs office, one of two places I was forbidden to go. I knew if he'd found out I went in there, Seonghwas threat would become reality. However, that didn't deter me.

I waited until I was home alone, which was normally between 7am and 5pm on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, giving me plenty of time to snoop. I had no idea what I was looking for in hindsight, but someone wanted me in there. Or something.

Hongjoongs office was a mess. Books staked to great heights and pushed away into corners of the room, his desk covered with so many papers I could only get a glimpse of the desks surface.

I move around the office, careful not to trip on anything as I look at a specific bookshelf full of folders. The folders had names written on the side, all members of high society. I stopped briefly when I saw my own name, the dust on the shelf indicating it had been recently taken down and put back. I looked for others with similar dust patterns. Kim Namjoon, YangYang Liu, Lalisa Manoban. I paused when I saw it, my breath hitching and heart stopping briefly; Chalita L/N. My sister.

Hongjoong had a file on my sister? The one I pursumed dead over 10 years ago. Why?

I take the file, staring down at the cover for a moment before opening it. There were photos from our childhood, of her, myself, and our youngest sister, all smiles without a care in the world. She was 7 years older and was a firecracker, to say the least. I missed her.

I heard the front door open and close downstairs, making the hairs on my arms stand up. Did one of them come home? I glance around, noticing Hongjoongs laptop still sitting on his desk. Shit. I stood my ground despite the fear coursing through my veins. He knew something about my sister, I had to know what.

When his office door swung open, he stood there in shock. For once, I had him by surprise, and it had me thrilled.

"What are you doing here?" Hongjoong snaps, his eyes turning into a glare.

"What do you know about her?" I ask, ignoring his question and holding up the file. "What do you know about my sister?"

"Put it back. You shouldn't be in here." He snaps, stepping closer, but I raise the file in defence.

"Don't tou dare tell me what to do when you've done nothing but lie to my face!" I yell, causing him to step back.

"Okay. I'm sorry." He says gently, holding his hands up.

"Cut the act." I scowl, causing his face to relax into a teasing grin.

"You're picking up fast, Princess." He chuckles, stepping closer and gripping the file and ripping it from my hands. He walks towards the window, gazing down at the cover.

"Chalita is a topic of interest right now." He says simply. He glances at me for a moment, studying me. "So it's true you thought she was dead?"

"How did you-?"

"I know a lot of things." Hongjoong says. "Everyone my men come in contact with, everyone you know, everyone that you will know, I know them all." He says, walking to stand in front of me again.

"How did you know I thought she was dead?" I ask.

"Your father did that. Told everyone that she was years ago." He explains. "Said he found her mutilated, like a victim of The Cobra." He says, noticing the flicker of familiarity in my gaze.

"But she's alive?" I ask.

"Yes." He answers simply, sliding the file back into its place. "Now, should I tell Seonghwa you snuck into my office?"

I scoff. "Do it, when he comes raging, I'll already be out the door." I say, turning on my heel before he stops me, taking my wrist gently.

"He is sorry." Hongjoong says, but I don't turn around.

"It's not an apology if it comes from someone else." I say, ripping my hand away and walking out into the hallway. I stop for a moment. "Maybe you and the others should take notes from Mingi and Jongho. Or have they not told you of our time together?" I ask, turning to see his puzzled expression.

"What?"

"I see they left details out." I laugh, turning once again and heading back towards my room with a skip in my step, knowing full well Hongjoong is watching my every move.

By 8pm I was hiding away in my room once again. I hoped Mingi or Jongho would join me, my stomach feeling giddy at the feeling.

When I heard someone knock on the door, a smile spread across my face. I jumped up and shuffled hastily to the door, only for my smile to drop when I realised that it was neither.

Seonghwa stood there, one hand behind his back and the other reaching out to stop the door from slamming shut in his face. It backfired, his fingers getting wedged roughly in the door causing him to let out a grunt of pain. I swing the door open again in shock, staring at his fingers and then at him.

"Guess that makes us even." He jokes through gritted teeth, cradling his hand against his chest. That's when I noticed it, a box clutched tightly in the hand that was hidden. "Can we talk?"

I blink for a moment, processing his words before foolishly stepping aside. He enters slowly, making his way to my bed and sitting down on the end. I stay standing, opting to sit on the loveseat by the window.

"I'm sorry." He says, breaking the awkward tension. "I shouldn't have reacted that way."

"Yea, you shouldn't have." I say, crossing my arms. He huffs softly, a smile spreading across his face.

"I promise I'll do better to keep my anger in check. I did not mean to hurt you. Understand that." He says, moving now to kneel on both knees in front of me. "You were right with what you said with Jongho. You don't deserve to be just a woman to us when you've accepted us so kindly and without much complaint." He says, flattening my palm and placing the box in my hand.

"What is this?" I ask.

"A peace offering." He says, gesturing for me to open it. I do, shocked by what I find inside.

It's a ring, but not an engagement ring. It was an exact replica of the one each of them had on their finger. Signifying their bond to each other, that they were a family. This ring would mean they were recognising me as one of them. How good did Jongho talk me up?

"Seonghwa.."

"You don't have to accept it right away." He says. "Just- Know that we're trying."

My gaze softens as I look at the ring. The details are so much clearer now, every dent and engraving.

"I know." I whisper, looking up at him. "And I'm trying to."

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Author’s note:  Another week's passed. Is there a better way than starting the week with a brand new chapter? I'm kidding, but it's time for chapter III.

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. And now, enjoy! 🩷

It was early afternoon when you knocked on Mason’s front door. Your heart was beating rather quickly in your chest as you were unsure of what to expect. It had only been a week that you'd spent alone with Ellie and you hadn't expected Mason to want to talk to you so soon.

Had he already seen enough to know that he'd rather have his mum around?

His message hadn't necessarily given much away either. The fact that he wanted to talk to you could mean anything or nothing and that’s what had kept you up basically all night long.

Before you could overthink anymore, you were greeted with Mason’s bright smile. “Hi.” He pulled you into a warm hug, squeezing you tightly and making you giggle in the process. “C’mon in then.”

You followed him into the living room, gaze scanning his house for Ellie, but the little whirlwind was nowhere to be seen and the whole house was unusually quiet.

“She’s with Jaz and Summer.”, Mason explained as he caught on to the confused expression on your face. “Jaz offered to take the two for some ice cream so we could talk in peace. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”, you shook your head before flopping down on his sofa. “I guess you’ve made a decision then?”

“Kind of.”, Mason chuckled, but you could tell it was because of the nerves. He fiddled with his fingers, gaze cast to where his feet brushed over the carpet. “It’s just…I’m a little on the fence, you know?”

You furrowed your brows when he tilted his head back up and locked his eyes on yours, not quite understanding what he meant, but he looked seriously conflicted and you knew you had to play the reassuring part in this conversation.  

“Just tell me what’s going on, Mase.”, you said softly, reaching out to squeeze his knee. “You know I won’t be mad.”

“I’m a little worried, to be honest.”, he began, fingers back to fiddling in his lap. “Not about whether I can trust you with Ellie or something, I know you're doing great and I'm really glad to have you, it's just...this will make me sound insane.”

Mason chuckled quietly, shaking his head at himself. It was embarrassing how he couldn’t speak about this to you, his best friend in the world, without getting blushy and feeling ridiculous.

“It’s going to be a pretty long while until she can go to nursery, you know? And you have your own life and…I don’t want to depend on you too much like…I feel like I’d be lost without you and that scares the shit out of me y/n. I want you to have your own life and do stuff, but I’m away a lot so there’s not that much free time I can give you and…what if you realise it’s all too much?”

As he looked up, fears and worries were clouding his big brown eyes, making your heart drop. He’d been through so much those last two and a half weeks and it seemed that after simply having functioned for football and his little girl, everything was now catching up with him.

He looked as if everything had just hit him with full force.

“Mase.”, you sighed before shuffling closer to him to pull him into a much-needed hug and once you’d embraced him, he immediately dropped his face into your neck, breathing in your comforting scent. “I know what you mean and that after everything you’re probably scared I could run off at some point, but I can assure you I won’t. I’d never do that to you or Ellie.”

For a moment, you simply ran your hand up and down his spine, trying to comfort him as best as possible and it wasn’t long before he pulled his face out of your neck.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to pick me, though.”, you smiled, cupping his cheek with your hand to keep his eyes on yours. “You make the choice that feels best for you; the choice that lets you focus on training and games properly. So if you want your mum to take over, then that’s more than okay, Mase.”

“No I…I would love for you to try working from home and being with Ellie.”, he admitted quietly as he grabbed both of your hands in his. “She’s comfortable around you and I trust you with her. It’s just such a big thing, you’re sacrificing so much for a girl who isn’t yours.”

“It is a big thing, I agree, but I’m happy to do it cause it means that you can focus on football and Ellie can life a happy and carefree life. I know about the responsibilities, the sacrifices and everything else that comes with it, and I promise you, Mase, I’m ready for all of this. I talked to Elizabeth and she’s okay with me working part-time and from home. She wanted Avery to take up more responsibilities anyway and that year would give her the chance to see if she’s capable of doing so.”

For a moment, Mason simply looked at you. His big brown eyes locked on yours, a whirlwind of emotions in them but the one that stood out was the relief over the solved situation. You could only imagine how much pressure and uncertainty he must’ve felt because of everything that had been going on and you were glad you’d been able to take a bit of the weight off his shoulders.

“Thank you so much, y/n. It means the world to me and I can’t tell you just how much I appreciate you and what you’re doing.”, he whispered before burying his teeth into his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. There was so much going through his head; worries, fears, hope,…but with a simple squeeze of your hands, his heart settled.

No matter what, you’d be there. It was you and him against the world.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“No, Mase. Please don’t think that way. I love Ellie and you’re both so important to me, I would never forgive myself for not being there for you in such a difficult time. You don’t have to pa-“

“I know I don’t have to.”, he interrupted you softly. “But I want to. I know I can never thank you enough for doing this and there’s not enough words to explain just how much I appreciate you, so when I come up with something to make it up to you at least a little, promise me you won’t push me away.”

You sighed quietly. Mason was as stubborn as they come so you knew there was no point in arguing, but it didn’t mean that it sat right with you. You wanted to do this because you loved both of them and wanted to support them, not because he would pay you back with some ridiculously expensive stuff.

���Just don’t make it anything big, Mase.”

“I can’t make any promises.”, he laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. He would most definitely make it something big.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?”

*

A few weeks later, things had settled properly. Working from home and making sure Ellie was looked after at the same time certainly wasn’t easy, let alone stress-free, but it was also fun.

The little one was a calm child. She was very much into her colouring-books, stuffed animals and the pink doll-house Mason had got her last Christmas. Of course, romping around and messing about was part of everyday life, but she usually reserved that for time with Mason.

Sometimes you had the feeling she understood very well that you had to work in the morning and needed a bit of peace and quiet because most mornings, she spent her time doing puzzles and colouring. Both things she could do in your office when she wanted to be with you.

And then there were also the days when Ellie felt like nothing at all. Then she liked to spend a lot of time in your lap, snuggled up against you whilst you worked away. You suspected that these were the moments when she particularly missed her mum, and it broke your heart every time.

Mason tried to make up for it by spending basically all of his free time with her and lately, he had started to involve you a lot more. Much to your surprise. Not that he hadn’t done that before at all, but whilst in the beginning you’d always left once he was back home, he had started to ask you to stay for dinner or join them on their afternoon walk more frequently.

Just like today.

When Mason had got home, he'd made himself a cup of tea and joined you and Ellie on the living room rug where you’d been occupied with playing one of Ellie’s favourite games.

You’d stayed for a little longer, but as you wanted to give your best friend some time to be alone with his daughter, you’d gotten up to get ready to leave, but before you could’ve actually said goodbye, Mason had asked if you wanted to come with them to the playground.

The two of you were sat on one of the benches while Ellie was playing happily in the sandpit. She seemed to be having the time of her life, building sandcastles and whatever else came to her mind and every once in a while, she looked up and waved at you.

“Have you heard from Mae at all?”

“No, she hasn’t messaged me back in forever. I tried to get a hold of her, but she rejects every call and ignores my texts.”

“It’s been two months now.”, you sighed.

“It sounds shit, but I think it’s the best for Ellie at the moment, you know? She’s settled and seems to be happy with how it is. She hasn’t asked about her mother in I think two weeks now. Mae suddenly showing up or asking to see her would probably only unsettle her.”

Mason tried to make it sound as if he wasn’t too bothered, but you knew it wasn’t more than a façade. For Ellie he wanted to be the strong one, but whenever he was with you, he couldn’t help but slip.

You felt incredibly sorry for him. First, he’d gone through hell because he’d caught her cheating on him and because that hadn't been bad enough, now he had to constantly worry about whether or not his little girl was coping well with the whole situation.

Placing your hand on his forearm you turned a little so you could take a proper look at him. “How are you, Mase?”, you asked softly, fingers gently squeezing his arm. “And don’t tell me you’re fine cause I know you’re not.”

“You’re annoying, do you know that?”, he laughed quietly. “I’m okay, though. Obviously not great, but I’m okay. You’re doing an amazing job at taking care of us. Honestly, you’re perfect with Ellie and I can’t thank you enough for everything.”

Overcome by his emotions, he pulled you into his side. His arm wrapping tightly around your waist, and you allowed yourself to lean your head against his shoulder.

“I’m glad I can do something to help, Mase. It’s a difficult situation and neither of you deserve to be in it, but I actually think you’re dealing with it very well, you know?”

“Only thanks to you, y/n.”, he admitted. “I don’t think you understand, but you do way more than just taking care of Ellie. You obviously take that weight off my shoulders, but that’s not all. Like…Ellie is obviously the center of each day, but despite that you never forget about me as Mason. It’s not just Mason and Ellie to you, it’s also just me that you think of and I appreciate that so much.”

Shyly, Mason buried his nose in your hair. He didn’t think he’d ever been this honest to anyone and it made him feel a little too vulnerable for his liking. You could feel his grip on your waist tightening a little as he took a deep breath.

“I have no idea how you do it, but you always know exactly what to say and do to make me feel better. I don’t know how often I’ve been on the brink of breaking down lately, but whenever I came home it felt as if you knew and…it sounds ridiculous, but your hugs are…I don’t know...magical. I just…thank you, y/n. I appreciate it all and especially you very much.”

“I’m just glad I can do something.”, you whispered. His honest words had left you a little emotional and speechless and you didn’t really know what to say. “It’s obviously difficult for Ellie cause her mum left her, but I can’t even begin to get my head around just how hard it must be for you, Mase. I just want you to be okay.”

“I am okay, y/n. I promise you.” Mason pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “But you have to take care of yourself as well, okay? Don’t focus on us in a way that makes you forget about yourself.”

“I won’t, Mase. I-”

“And don’t settle for less than what you deserve.”

“Hm?” Confused, you pulled away from him a little. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean…I know you’re not really looking for a boyfriend right now, but when at some point you are, don’t be with someone just for the sake of it. You’re one of the best people ever, y/n. You deserve the best and only the best and I want you to settle for someone who loves you as much as you love them.”, he explained.

His soft and honest eyes were trained on yours and the little smile pulling on his lips made your tummy all fuzzy. You dropped your gaze to where your fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks, but Mason gently grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back on his. 

“You’re this amazing person, y/n. You’re kind and intelligent and beautiful and you have so much to give. I don’t want you to ever be with someone who doesn’t give as much as you deserve.”

“Mase, stop. You’re gonna make me cry.”, you laughed. With the sleeve of your hoodie, you dabbed away the tears that had formed in the corner of your eye. “Thank you though, Mase. I appreciate that a lot. And the same goes for you. Obviously.”

Mason chuckled quietly and squeezed your waist, effectively pulling you even closer into his side. He enjoyed having you this close and even if it had been a serious and kind of ridiculously deep conversation, he felt a little lighter now.

A few minutes later, Ellie had seemingly enough of playing in the sand. Holding on tightly to her blue bucket and shovel, she came toddling over to you both.

“Let’s go home, hm?”, Mason asked as he kissed her little cheek and after his daughter had nodded in confirmation, he reached down to pick her up, but Ellie just shook her head.

“Not up. Ellie wak.” She looked up at you expectantly and when you - unsure of what she wanted - didn’t react, she held her small hand out. “Hold?”

Your heart warmed at the way the little girl smiled at you softly. She meant a lot to you and to see just how much she liked you and wanted you around felt like you’d won the lottery. More than that actually.

“Of course munchkin.” You grabbed her hand in yours and the giggle that left her lips was the cutest sound you’d ever heard.

Mason and you got up from the bench, ready to go home.

“What about daddy, though? You want him to hold your other hand?”

“No, bucket.”, she grinned, showing you the bucket she was still holding. No doubt knowing exactly what she was doing.

Mason chuckled quietly and shook his head. “Well in that case let me hold the other princess in my life.” With that, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his warm body, making your cheeks flush.

“She’s not gonna leave me hanging for a bloody bucket, is she?”, he whispered quietly into your ear.

“No.”, you replied weakly, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear making your knees weak. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Perfect actually.”

And with his arm around your shoulders and Ellie’s hand securely in yours, the three of you made your way back home.

[lace-coffin]

hello! Could you do something about Asa after he spends like, a good your looking for his newest member of the collection, and when he finds them, their just, surrounded by diff bugs?

Theres like, crickets in their hair, moths and butterfly all over their arms a few spiders crawling around their legs and their holding a praying mantis in their hands and staring at in awe. Their also babying talking it and cooing at it, when they look up and realize Asa is staring at them, they raise their cupped hands a show him the giant mantis resting their, saying with a cherry yet soft voice and smile "I named her Apple!"

I would appreciate it very much if you wrote something about this :)

But you don't have to, for any reason really.

Have a lovely night/day! Be sure to drink water and eat 💕

How would Asa Emory react to finding his new pet coddling his bugs?

Asa Emory/gn!Reader

Tw for bugs and power dynamics

Requests are open!

Asa moved through the halls of the hotel with efficiency, he knew them like the back of his hand, however that apparently wasn’t helping since he’d managed to...misplace his new pet.

You were supposed to be in your room, you were lucky you had even been granted the luxury of not just being crumpled into one of the boxes, but here Asa is, speeding down the halls and jumping/swerving around his traps like some kind of sick ballet in order to find you. You absolutely won’t be getting out of this without some serious punishment.

Asa curses at himself under his breath for making his place of operations so huge, it seemed like a good idea when he set up here and it was but damn if it wasn’t his Achilles heel in this situation.

Fifteen minutes of searching later his heart is picking up in an unfamiliar way, usually he’s not one to care about others or a stray victim but something in him can’t help but worry about loosing his newest subject already. Whether it’s because he cares for you or because he hates not being in control is anyone’s guess. (He’s soft for you and won’t admit it)

Finally as he’s cracking open a door at the end of the hallway he hears a sweet laugh echoing from further along. Bingo. You’re so dead when he finds you. As he’s about to slam the door open he realises this is infact where he keeps his enclosures for his specimens, he sighs and opts to open the door slowly and quietly as not to startle the bugs.

You don’t even notice Asa enter the room, currently too enthralled in cooing sweet words to the giant mantis in your hands.

Before Asa can demand to know where you’ve been and why, his breath hitches in his throat. There you are, sat on your knees next to the enclosure cases, covered from head to toe in his beloved bugs. The calm careful way you handle them and talk to them like they can understand tugs at his heart, his face softens at the sight, anger long forgotten and replaced by a feeling of fondness, the same one he felt when he was originally scouting you to join his collection.

The crickets cling to your stands of hair, a little messy since you had left your room before Asa got to around to brushing it but he’ll fix that later, sitting contently like they’d never been disturbed in the first place.

Moths and butterflies tap their tiny feet along your arms, fluttering their delicate wings, taking off and landing back with you when they please.

Asa takes in the scene breathlessly, if he hadn’t already been weak for you then he definitely is now. As he approaches by a few steps some thick hairy legs come into view, creeping slowly over your thighs and onto your lap. Tarantulas, two of them, using you as a lap cushion without a care in the world. You really are something special. In the back of his mind Asa makes another note to keep approaching slowly, despite you needing a punishment he’s not exactly wanting his eight legged pets to kick hairs at you in fright.

After a few minutes of blissfully observing one of the tarantulas unhurriedly totters off your leg and begins to move across the room. “Oh, where are you off to little guy? I need you over here with me, I’m already probably in big trouble with sir” you sigh. “I don’t want to loose you and make it worse, besides, I don’t think I could forgive myself if something happened to you under my watch”

In a strange way you suppose you understood Asa’s need to keep you under wraps right now, not wanting this beautiful specimen to disappear from your sight, much like Asa with you.

You swivel on your knees to coax the spider back into your palms, nudging its abdomen for encouragement and letting it waddle back into your hands. From your new position you catch a glimpse of heavy black boots in your peripheral. Oh.

You turn your attention fully to the man above you, heart racing at the idea of what’s about to come, however as you reach his eyes they aren’t filled with the rage or disappointment you were expecting. The black orbs are filled with softness, fondness, almost something sweet you can’t decipher.

Without thinking you present the giant mantis to Asa, still on your knees. “I named her apple!” A beat passes and an array of emotions flutter through Asa’s steely heart, his blank face still giving nothing away. After what feels like an eternity he crouches down in front of you, cupping his hands under your own, assisting in holding the mantis. “A fine name for her, pet. Do you know what species Apple is by chance?” He says in his firm but calm, leading voice, slipping into the tone he uses when teaching his lectures without even realising it.

“Uh-no, no I don’t sir…tell me?” You say, wincing a little at the stumble at the beginning, hoping asking him to tell you didn’t come off as rude or undermining his authority. Asa smiles, not letting anything on.

“She is a Giant Asian Mantis, or Hierodula membranacea, If you want to get technical. These are the most commonly kept mantis as house pets and come in an array of colours, but as you can see, apple is mostly light green. I think your name fits her nicely.” Asa explains matter of factly, hands still cupped under yours for Apple to totter onto.

“Woah” you say without thinking, watching Apple move to Asa’s palms and taking in the information. Asa exhales from his nose in a small chuckle. “Woah indeed, however I think it’s time we get you and Apple back to your respective rooms” Asa says with a quirked eyebrow, giving away that your not going to get away with this unpunished just because he finds you endearing.

Asa helps you round up the specimens and places them back in their individual tanks. After making sure you both wash your hands thoroughly he takes your now clean hand and walks you back to your room, letting you ask him more bug questions as you walk.

Despite how lovely this has been you’ll still be given a stern talking to once you return, Asa can’t bring himself to punish you for your little adventure and entomology lesson but isn’t one to let you off the hook without some kind of consequence, after all he expects your complete submission and obedience and won’t settle for any less. But for now that convocation can wait, and Asa can get you comfy on your knees infront of him, manoeuvring your head via the ring on your collar and finally working the comb through the snags in your hair with care.

I hope you enjoy this! Your rq was super fun to do and the idea was really cool! Thank you so much and feel free to send me more < 3

[thelov3lybookworm]

Can I request a cardan x reader fic? Anything you want to write! Just gimmi my baby there isnt much of him on this app.🥺

Weeping heart

Summary: Y/n has seen cardan go through lovers like they're wrappers of chocolates. One in his hand before the previous is even in the dustbin.

Now he has found Jude, and she does not know what to do.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: anon thank you so much for this request! i love you so much for this. It was such a good writing exercise honestly. This is mainly pining, maybe angst.

Also, this marks the beginning of me writing for characters outside of the acotar universe, so I'm very excited

also I didnt tag anyone because the general taglist i have was for acotar.

(i might be down to write a part 2 👀)

(not proofread)

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

She bit her lip as she stared up at her best friend, trying to contain the smile that threatened to overtake her features.

"Let me see that smile, beautiful." He grinned lazily at her, his dark eyes twinkling under the rays of sunlight that penetrated the thick canopy of leaves above their head. They were currently seated under a weeping willow, hidden away from the whole world outside. Where only the two of them existed, and nothing else mattered.

The place was special to Y/n and Cardan. This was where the two of them would meet all the time, just the two of them, away from their friends and family. In here, they didn't have to pretend, didn't have to act like everything was okay. They could be themselves, and not care about getting hurt.

He leaned closer to her, searching her eyes, his eyes and features softer than Y/n had ever seen before.

"Shut up." She mumbled, but that action had her lips splitting into that smile she was trying so hard to supress.

His grin widened. "There we go."

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb absently brushing her lower lip, his gaze following it with a hungry look. Then his eyes lifted to hers, a question in them.

She dipped her chin almost imperceptibly.

That was enough for him, and he leaned forward, his lips getting closer and closer to hers.

She let her eyes fall shut.

But the kiss never came.

•○🌑○•

She opened her eyes, wondering why he hadn't yet kissed her, and found herself staring at the ceiling of her room.

She blinked blearily, wondering what the hell happened, and then she realised.

It had been a dream.

She closed her eyes again, heaving a sigh as she willed herself to go back to sleep, back to that dream, hoping he'd kiss her before she woke up again.

Of course, that was very nearly impossible.

Because someone decided in that moment that it would be a good idea to knock on her door.

She was certain she knew who it was.

Still she called out, demanding the identity of the knocker.

The answer was immediate. Cardan.

She groaned lowly, dragging her hands down her face.

He didn't wait for her to let him in. The permission wasn't ever needed between the two. That hadn't changed. Yet.

The next moment, he had barged in through the doors, a grin on his stupid face.

She sat up, trying to look anywhere but his face. Heavy emphasis on trying.

"Y/n, guess what happened."

"I am not in the mood, Cardan."

She winced internally. She was being cruel. He had done nothing wrong. It was not his fault he didn't know of her feelings. She had no right to be rude to him, especially when he was so excited about something.

He wasn't bothered by her lack of enthusiasm. He simply plopped down on her bed as she climbed out of it, getting ready for the day as he launched into a story of how after last night's revel, Jude had told him to wait in their bedchambers while she walked into the closet, her skirts swishing around her legs.

How she had retuned without it.

Y/n tried not to pay attention to the details, but she couldn't help it. She had never been able to ignore what Cardan said, never been able to let anything he said go unheard. He had spent nearly all his years being unheard because no one considered him worthy of their time.

She had long ago decided that she was not going to be one of those people.

She heard everything, and her torturous brain created all the images Cardan's words conjured. Her traitor of a heart clenched, but she ignored it.

"That's great Cardan." She said when he finished speaking, and when she looked at him, he was practically glowing with happiness.

Y/n felt guilty for being jealous of the mortal who had everything Y/n ever wanted, but she couldn't bring herself to care when her heart was breaking into pieces everyday.

"It feels like I've waited for this an eternity. Never thought I would get to have Jude in my arms."

She gave him a smile. "I need to meet up with some generals this morning. I need to leave."

He nodded happily, straightening from where he'd been lying on her bed. She watched him walk out of her room, a knot forming in her throat, her resolve hardening.

She needed... she knew what she needed.

•○🌑○•

Jude had her eyebrow raised, and it concerned Y/n how a mere mortal's judgement could make her nervous.

"Tell me again why you want to go on this mission?"

Y/n reigned in a frustrated sigh. "There is no real reason. I just wish to explore the Elfhame more."

The look Jude gave her told her she saw right through the act. But she didn't push the mater.

"There has been rumours of a rebellion on the other side of Elfhame. If you really want to go on this mission, then you need to know that this is an incredibly long and dangerous mission. You'll not only have to investigate the place, but also squash any hint of rebellion you find."

Y/n gave Jude a smile. "Sounds amazing."

"Sure it does." Jude's eyes narrowed as she continued. "If you need more time away to, as you say, to explore, then after you finish this quest, have a tour around Elfhame and meet up with people who have associated with Madoc before. Make sure they are not plotting something behind our backs."

Y/n dipped her chin in a nod. "When can I leave?"

"Before the week ends."

"So does that mean I can leave right now too?"

If possible, Jude's eyes narrowed further and she stood. At that moment, the door behind Y/n opened, and she stiffened as the smell of his perfume reached her.

"Y/n! I thought you were in the meeting with the generals. What are you doing here?"

Y/n smiled stiffly, turning to look at Cardan.

"I had something important to discuss with Jude." She gestured with her hand.

Cardan nodded, as if that was the most understandable thing in the world.

"What were you talking about?"

"Nothing-"

"She is leaving on a long mission-"

Jude and Y/n spoke up at the same time, and Y/n had to resist the urge to smack her forehead.

Cardan's head swung towards Y/n, and he stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

Y/n turned to Jude, letting some of the fury at her secret being revealed show in her eyes. And then she smiled tightly. "Could you send that list of people and areas where the rebellion is rumoured to be to my room? I need to begin packing."

Jude's eyebrows were high, but she nodded. Y/n bowed, then turned on her heel and strode away, ignoring Cardan and the way he was trying to gain her attention.

As she left the room, she heard him following and calling for her, but she ignored that too.

Just the way she had always ignored her weeping heart, the one that beat solely for Cardan.

The one that was broken beyond repair now.

•○🌑○•

[milesdrift]

Beauty Caught in a Trap

Jacerys Velaryon x Reader

Tags: Second person, female reader, AFAB reader, twin incest, possessive behaviour, obsession, dark, smut. (Not completely accurate to canon)

Notes: These words were written by an intrusive thought

Note 2: (4th nov 2024) Thank you so much for all the love im receiving for this!

You were born a few minutes after Jacerys, your twin brother. He’s always been with you, besides you, holding you since day one.

Your mother knew you and Jacerys-Jac as you liked to call him, would always be close. As you grew that closeness, turned into something you couldn’t quite understand; you didn’t know what it was but it made you feel, different.

-

You were at your home in Dragonstone, just a bit off of the coast of the mainland of Westeros.

You were in the large library of the stronghold. You loved reading but Jacerys preferred fighting. He never really did understand why you liked reading so much.

-

You just picked a book off of the shelf and sat down on one of the many long tables in the library to read.

You were about halfway deep into the book when you felt a warm hand graze against the exposed back of your almost backless dress.

You squealed in fear only for you to realise it was just Jacerys.

“Jacerys! You cannot keep acting like a phantom!” You said pushing him by the chesy while taking a deep breath, trying to reduce your heartbeat.

Chuckling in response, “And you should not frighten so easily besides as long as I’m here no one will dare lay a finger on you.” the glint in his beautiful hazel eyes darkened as he continued

Extending his arm around your back as you quietly returned back to the world of reading you noticed a slight crimson colour out of the corner of your eye.

Jacerys had a deep cut along his cheek, ascending to his cheekbone. “Jac your cheek is bleeding!”

“Oh right, That’s what I came here to tell you about; I guess I forgot” he shrugged while smiling.

You cupped his cheeks and ran a finger along the blood. You got up rapidly and pulled him with you to your chambers.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” He lifted him to reduce the weight of his body as he continued to let you pull him.

As soon as you reached your chambers, you sat him down and stood in front of him thinking as he grabbed your hands to fondle with.

“Excuse me while I change into my nightgown, all this running makes me feel like this dress is weighing me down.” hurriedly you excused all your handmaidens and grabbed a silk black nightgown with red lace near the neck.

You still being a young lady, exempted you from being judged for wearing short dresses.

You changed and returned to your bed, “Now Jac do tell me how you hurt yourself as I look for the bandages.” you asked with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

He explained how you bent down to reach the bottom cabinet of your side table to which Jacerys could not divert his eyes from.

You pulled out the first aid kit and poured alcohol on a small cotton ball. Normally you would’ve gone to the infirmary at home but you wanted to learn how to handle things yourself.

He winced as the alcohol touched his skin “Please try to be a bit more sensitive doll.”

“Mhm, I’m trying.l” You cupped his cheeks again to place the bandage, and that’s when you started to feel how close your faces were but you chose to ignore it.

“All done brother dearest, you owe me a slice of lemon cake tomorrow as payment.” you joked.

He didn’t respond but instead continued to look you in your eyes.

“Jac? Do you need something el-”

He pinned you on the bed, kissing you intensely with his tongue intertwined with yours. He broke the kiss and you let out an unintentional whine at the separation, and then he started to ravage your neck.

Red marks all over your neck, your nightgown giving him easy access to go lower. He stuck his knee in between your legs, “Jac! What is the haah meaning of th-this?”

He stuck his knee deeper in between you. Suddenly he separated from you completely.

Your knight, Ser Criston knocked. “Princess? Are you okay in there?”

Jacerys was forced to let out a displeased groan in disbelief. He looked back at you with intent, “Just wait for tomorrow doll, I’ll have you all to myself.”

-

Almost an hour ago:

Jacerys was fighting with Ser Harwin.

“My prince we can conclude this class for today. You have fought marvellously. Shall I escort you to your chambers?”

“Ser Harwin you are not needed for the rest of the day, I’ll be out here for some time while you can depart to your room. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Very well my prince.” He said kneeling and then leaving.

Jacerys had a sharp and precise sword, staring at it for a bit, he then got an idea which he knew would give him his love, his future wife her attention.

He then proceeded to cut his cheek slightly.

-

You woke up with a clouded head the next day. The clouds began to rain and thoughts of yesterday began to spasm in your head, back and forth.

You ignored the thoughts and marked them off as intrusive.

You got up to see that your handmaidens weren’t there. You hated seeing them sweat so you drew yourself a bath and pick out a comfortable velvet dress in black and red.

Normally you stick with clothes matching the Velaryon household which is a sea green and silver. Surprisingly as well, you woke up almost 10 hours later than usual which put you in utter disbelief.

-

You left your room expecting to see Ser Criston but you saw no one. No guards no knight.

You were confused. You carried on to the dining room assuming they’re having their monthly meeting.

You entered the dining hall and again no one, just a lay of food on the long dining table.

You didn’t think much of it and sat down on your seat diagonal to your father’s chair.

You served yourself and began eating only to be greeted by Jacerys.

“Well you certainly are a night owl.”

You gave Jac a smile. You expected him to sit beside you as normal but instead he sat in your father’s chair.

“I am going to take over the Iron throne so I might as well get used to it now.” You giggled.

You both continued the rest of your meal in silence and just when you were about to depart Jac held your wrist.

“Why don’t we go to my chamber and catch up? Even if we are twins we are definitely not alike.”

“Why not,” You got up and hooked your arm around his.

-

He sat you down on his bed and just admired you for a second.

“You look beautiful today dear sister.”

“Why thank you,” You say with a proud grin.

“I love you Y/N. You know that right?” “Well obviously!” You say with a big upside down smile.

He then pounced. He started ravaging you like he did yesterday, you thought it was just a dream.

Your beautiful velvet dress allowed him easy access to your large chest on which he lathered you in hickeys.

Tears fell down your eye and he wiped them off with the length of his finger.

“Mngh-ah! Jac!” You moaned and he almost ejaculated, half hard right in his pants.

“You made me wait far too long dear sister. So we’re going to have to move this up a pace.”

And then you heard him removed his pants.

-

He pulled out a 9-10 inch cock which was thick and even longer when fully hard. You shivered knowing that, that wouldn’t fit into you.

He shoved it in roughly, showing no mercy to you.

Letting out a deep groan he said “I told you I wouldn’t let anyone let anyone lay a finger and you. Now look, your virgin pussy belongs to me. I’ll be honest, I’m a virgin too but I know you well enough to know what pleases you.”

He finished speaking and shoved in another inch.

He kept thrusting into you harder and harder.

“Haah Jacerys!”

One last thrust and you came so hard. The ecstasy of it made your tired body close its eyes and render you immobile.

Jacerys wasn’t done yet, he kept going and going and then finally finished. Ejaculating all over your flat and beautiful stomach.

He laid beside you and spoke. “This is how much I love you, my future wife.”

And you both fell into the world of dreams with his arms around your waist and head resting between your neck.

[wheeboo]

06:43pm | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you ask your sleepy husband the *most* important question in the world. PAIRING. husband!kim mingyu x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, tiny bit suggestive at the end, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, terms of endearment, implied that he’s um shirtless WORD COUNT. 916

"Gyu?"

Mingyu stirs slightly right next to you, and you would think he would open his eyes up to his name, but he doesn't. You see the way he falls back into his napping state, and it makes you chuckle softly. Reaching a careful finger out, you faintly trace the line of his cheekbone, mapping out to the mole to his cheek, while relishing the soft warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

You notice a faint smile quivering of his lips from your feather-light touch. It's a heartwarming sight, knowing that even in his dreams, he seems content, peaceful. However, your gentle touch eventually awakens him from his slumber, and he shifts once more, this time more noticeably.

With a soft groan, his eyes slowly flutter open, gaze meeting yours, and he manages a tired, yet affectionate smile, hands coming to grab at the sheets to cover over his bare upper body. Your finger is still tracing down his jawline, and he shivers with a pleasant shudder at your touch.

"Hi," You greet him softly.

"Hey," he mumbles with half-lidded eyes, voice still husky from the long nap.

"I have a question for you," You tell him, keeping your tone serious. "It's very important, and I want you to be fully, one-hundred percent honest with me right now."

He yawns, letting his arms stretch as he lets out a deep breath, before encircling back around you and pulling you closer to him. You watch the way his sleepy grin transforms into a contented smile as he holds you close, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath that left those pretty lips of his.

"M’kay," he responds quietly.

There's a playful glint in your eyes that he swears he sees, but he's too tired to fully register it and way too comfortable to say anything more, so he just watches you in anticipation.

You lean in closer, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Mingyu's drowsy gaze meets yours, and he blinks slowly and furrows his brows together, as if he's processing the question like he's hearing it for the first time, or like a puzzle he has to put together in his sleepy mind. You swear you could see the way the question bounces around in his half-awake thoughts, playing in his brain like a delightful riddle.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs. "we're married."

He's right, of course. His words hang in the air for a moment, and then a knowing smile spreads across your face, realising how absurd it may seem to ask such a question after all this time together, but you know you just asked for his reaction. You can't help but burst into a fit of giggles at his groggy yet utterly adorable state. Mingyu only blinks at your laughter, looking momentarily puzzled before a small smile crosses his lips.

"Oops," You quip teasingly. "I guess I forgot."

He pouts exaggeratingly at this, and not just a pout, but a pout pout. "How could you forget that?"

His sulky expression tugs endearingly at your heartstrings. You reach out to gently cup his cheek apologetically, your thumb brushing over his lower lip.

"Aw, my sweet baby," You coo amusingly. "I didn't forget, I promise. I'm just teasing, and I love hearing it from you."

Even if you've been married for years now, the way his cheeks flush a soft pink at your words, and the way his eyes light up with adoration, makes your heart flutter just as it did when you were just young, dumb, and in love. There's something about hearing those reminders that yes, you are married𑁋you married the love of your life, the same man who you've been pining for since the moment you laid eyes on him and who still makes your heart skip a beat after all these years.

The journey from strangers to friends, to dating, to finally saying "I do" had been filled with ups and downs, but it was a journey you wouldn't trade a single second of it for anything in the world, all because it led you to this exact moment.

"Hmm, you better not forget ever," he warns, letting out a faux grumble, but you notice the corners of his lips are fighting back a smile. You know he can never stay mad for long, especially when you tease him like this. "or I'd have to remind you every day."

I wouldn't mind that, You think, chuckling softly before leaning in to plant a loving kiss on his pouty lips, which seems to melt away any lingering sleepiness surrounding him instantly. I wouldn't mind that at all.

When you press another kiss to his lips, he responds by deepening it almost naturally, his strong arms coming to wrap around you more tightly. You feel the way he smiles under the kiss, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. And when you feel his fingers start to dance along your back, you let out let out a soft, breathy sigh against his lips, and there's a smirk that forms at his mouth from the response he elicits from you.

His lips part from yours, and he trails a line of soft kisses along your jawline, each one causing your heartbeat to quicken. He nuzzles his face against your neck, peppering it with affectionate kisses that make you lightly giggle, before coming to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"And you're not just pretty, honey," he whispers between kisses, warm breath caressing against your skin, and you tilt your head back slightly to grant him more access. "You're goddamn breathtaking."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo

[yeokii]

NOTHING — PARK JONGSEONG

synopsis . when would park jongseong finally realise that the sweet moments you two shared together wasn't worth it anymore

종성 : bf! jay x fmr O.4K — angst I laov ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, breakups, arguments 🎬 𓍼 note — inspo from nothing by kiof !! this was so rushed┆(bookshelf)

Jay loved you. He truly did. He would give up the world for you, just to hug you one last time. You kept him wrapped around your finger. He loved the way that you kissed him goodnight and snuggled against his chest, he loved the way you crept up beside him on a lazy sunday morning, hugging him from behind.

But he knew it.

Jay knew it.

He knew it wasn't worth it anymore. The love you two shared had become toxic. The petty arguments started becoming more frequent. The silence between you two started growing uncomfortable to insufferable.

He was brought back to the petty and insulting words you both there at each other.

"Gosh! It's like you don't even care anymore, Jay!" You yelled at him, trying not to let your voice break.

Jay stayed silent, knowing what you said was true.

He just didn't want to accept it.

The truth was sinking in—what you had feared most was now unfolding before your eyes.  Jay didn't have the energy to debunk your accusation which made your heart fall right down to your stomach. But if he cared, he would.

"Jay?" You said, with a more softer voice.

"It's for the better." He mumbled, finally looking at your teary eyes.

His eyes widened at your face. You looked so fragile like you would break at the touch of a needle. He walked towards you, hesitantly knowing that he wanted to run to you and pick you up, kissing every part of your face. When he reached you, the space between you seemed endless despite being just inches apart.

"Don't cry, sweet." He said, as he cupped your face, making your glistening eyes look up at him.

The nickname he gave you since the day you both started dating felt like a sharp stab to your heart.

"I'm sorry." You muttered, "For not being the girl you dreamed of."

"Sweet, you always were. But I guess dreams change." He said, feeling tortured by the sight of your tears.

He enveloped you in a hug, holding you close and not wanting to see your hurt face ever again. Even if he was not going to stay the night. Even if he is going to act like you two are complete strangers after this Saturday night.

"I hope.. you know," Jay carefully said, his voice shaky, "You meant everything to me."

And all he could hear was sobs erupting from you, knowing that even if you his everything, it wasn't worth it anymore.

tags . @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes

[bulletswithribbons]

"Fucking hate journalists"

Kai Anderson X Fem!reader // NSFW

Warnings: Kai Anderson. You guess it. Very little plot, degrading, non-con/dob-con, mentions of murder, implied masochism, rough oral sex (m receiving), gun play, slut shaming, hair pulling, let me know if I missed any.

Summary: Kai breaks in your house to teach you your place after non-stop asking him back handed questions during the interview. Events eventually take a twisted turn, you were never that much of a good girl anyways.

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first ever fic, I've read plenty and wrote smut before so I'm pretty confident. But first time publishing so here we go.

Interviewing Kai right after his campaign was not the best call at all, especially the way you kept pressing him. You knew you shouldn’t have but this is war whether he knew it or not. You took a vow on yourself to make him expose himself on his own. You’ve always been suspicious about him but you had no proof of your accusations, and calling someone out based on your gut is not really professional, especially as a journalist. 

Even though someone had to confront him about his mistakes and fear mongering, your questions only made things worse, for you at least. You pushed too hard, making him feel small in front of the media. He could sense your suspicion with every question, and it's clear you put a big dent in his ego.

You were sitting on your desk, ticking your pen as a form of anti-stress. A bit of a mess actually, papers scattered, pens strewn about. Newspapers and magazines pile up, post-it notes plastered everywhere and a coffee cup long forgotten. Your desk lamp sits on the edge, casting a soft, warm glow in the room. You've always preferred gentle lights especially when working, it helps you think.

Your thoughts spiral around making your headache worse than it already is. How could you possibly put him down, once and for all..?

A bone-chilling breeze whispers over the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You enjoy it while it lasts, a refreshing breeze in this stifling hot night. It must have come from the window behind you, although you don't remember leaving it open... It doesn't matter. Nothing does as long as you still have work to do.

Your slender fingers reach for your white blouse, unbuttoning it. Once removed, you toss it aside, letting it fall to the floor, trying to cool your temperature down. You're digging through Kai's files, searching for a gap to use against him. It wasn't your job to do so. But as a journalist of course, you'd investigate and research to report the facts and keep people up with the facts.

Perhaps it's because you take what he says in the media personally. After all, a part of you is a feminist, a part you're not ready to let go of, at least for the sake of all the women who fought for their place in this world. You see through his manipulation tactics because you've seen them before. You know a narcissist when you see one.

"Fuck!" You shout as you throw the papers off your desk.

"Hm, come on now, how dare you throw these papers. We don't want little big mouth to lose her temper." He tsks, with an overly sweet tone dripping with sarcasm.

Shocked, you recognize the voice as you feel something hard poking you in the back of your head, trailing down to your neck, detaching your hair that was hardly holding up in the messy bun. Cold, metal. Sudden realisations hit all at once, but most importantly is the outsider in your house -your room- you pissed off earlier this day holding a gun to your head.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" you ask, your voice rising towards the end. You're trying your best to stay calm. One mistake, and you’re dead. Young lady in her 20s corpse’ found shot in her bedroom because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Mr. Anderson?”He repeats after you, chuckling. “They’re always respectful when fearful.” A sinful smirk tugs his lips, a look of pride in his dark cold eyes after hearing his last name coming from your trembling lips. “But I would have to politely decline your offer. I’m here to fix the mess of a situation you’ve just created for yourself. After all, I don’t want to lose voters over something so foolish. Especially this… close to the election.”

"Like hell I—or anyone with a brain that knows right from wrong—would vote for you!" You yell as you stand up from your seat.

His jaw clenches and nostrils flare, showing his annoyance. His grip on the gun tightening as he lifts the gun up to your temple, his finger twitching on the trigger. His voice, on the other hand, remains eerily sweet. “I really think you should keep your voice down.”

You swallow, your throat drier than ever. 

His voice lowers to a whisper, "I see you started learning. Good girl, I'm proud of fast learners." He takes a step towards you, his free hand stroking your chin and cheek, his touch alone giving you goosebumps. The gun rests on your temple, his eyes darting around the room.Then his focus shifts back to you. "Get on your knees," he orders and pulls his hand away from your face.

“I’m sorry?” You rush out, your eyes widening.

“Now,” he responds, his tone dripping with impatience as he jerks his gun to signal his order. “Expecting company?” He inquires looking down at your —bra only— chest.

You crouch down on your knees, his gun still pointing to your head. “No,” you respond short and clearly. For a minute, you believe you saw him smile slightly. A smile of pride.. 

“You’re such an obedient slut, aren’t you?” He pauses, “You defied me, made a fool of me in front of everyone. That doesn't go unnoticed.” He whispers, his voice pitch getting higher towards the end.

“So you’re going to shoot me? Because I hurt your little pathetic ‘man ego’? Because I’m small and vulnerable while you’re big and strong?” You retort, fake amusement hiding your fear.

“You’re smart. Most girls aren't smart. Well, that was the plan.” His smirk widens, his tone sounding even more sadistic as he slowly traces the gun barrel around your jawline— tracing it slowly with the tip of his gun. You notice him staring at your lips. “But now, seeing how big of a mouth you have, I’m going to show you what whores like you are made for.” He informs, his tone bled dry of emotion.

“The kitchen and carrying useless men’s babies. I Get it, trust.” You lash out. Although you know keeping your mouth shut is probably the better option, especially in this exact situation. But that never really happens, at least not most of the time.

Kai’s grip tightens on the gun as his rage begins to seep through his body. His other hand darts out to your face and before you even notice it, a slap lands with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain rippling through your cheek and leaving you on the floor. It stings, you can feel a red mark in its wake. Leaving you feeling shocked and humiliated.

You were lying down there on the floor, your body stretched out, limbs motionless. There was no sense of ease in your posture nor the room, rather a stillness that borders on tension. Even the air itself felt stifling.

Your eyes widen at the sight of his free hand darting to his zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth. “You see, you just know how things work.” His tone becomes condescending, he pops the button and grip the waistband of his pants pulling it down until it’s enough to pull his dick out. “You have such a delicious looking mouth. I'm sure it has been put to good use for the benefit of passing by men. I'm guessing you've had a lot of fun.” He grabs the elastic of his boxers, lowering them down over his balls and pulling out his half hard cock.

You stare at him, your face frozen in shock. “You’re sick!” you shout.

“Am I now? You're the one who's been around so many men in your life. You should be used to it by now.” He grins, his hand holding his gun and moving it from your cheek to beneath your chin, pulling it up, so you were looking at him. “You should be grateful I'm bothering to even look at you.”

Although the men you’ve been with aren’t that many, you don’t bother to waste your time explaining. He believes what he wants to believe.

“Get back here,” he orders as he starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip. A bead of precum glistening from the tip.

You crawl back to him on all fours, doing as he says, and getting back on your knees, looking up at him. “Are you going to hurt me?” you ask.

He pauses for a moment before tilting his head with a small grin. “Isn’t that what you deserve? Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? You like pain? Is that what you crave, y/n?” 

Fear… Regret.. Along with arousal.. Unwanted arousal specifically. You always knew you had a thing for troubled —twisted— men, but this is beyond fucked-up. Not to forget, he’s your worst enemy. He’s any woman’s worst enemy.  Feeling your pussy weeping in response to his tall figure towering over you is not really something to be proud of. The heat between your thighs only grew bigger every second and you knew you needed to get rid of the feeling.

He stops pumping his cock, his hand darts to your head caressing your hair with —almost— a soft touch.

“Suck,” he orders.

Your eyes widen, your tongue ready to curse at him, “I’m not going t-” 

“I won’t ask again, suck.” His hand darts up to your face squishing your cheeks painfully together. “You run your mouth a lot, might as well put it to good use. I’ll show you what exactly happens to smart mouths. Suck it like the slut you are.” His eyes burn with anger while he’s squeezing tight, his voice dripping with venom. The tip of his heavy warm cock caresses your soft lips, tempting you to bite it off.

He roughly lets go of your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head to the back to force your mouth open.

He forces the tip past your teeth, hatred spewing from your eyes.

“Wider,” he demands, but you want him to beg. Beg for it on his knees and switch the table, be the one with the gun ordering him around like a house pet. Getting back your dignity sounded good but not enough if you compare it with its consequence, having your life taken away from you.

You ignore his request. Making him reinforce his hold in your hair, pulling at it harder making your jaw drop so he can get deeper to your throat. The salty taste of precum evades your taste buds.

You loved the taste of him, your mouth watering with his cock inside it. But you couldn't admit it, of course you never would. It didn’t take too long for you to wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft.

Your head bobbing up and down. A breathy moan escaped him.

“Do enlighten me,” he breathes out, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his thick cock, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

Ragged breaths escaped his mouth as you began to inch your way down, taking in more of him. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat. Kai tightens his grip around your hair, and shoves your face down against his cock, making you gag around him, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick, making you gag. His length occupying your whole mouth down to your throat. You were practically choking, but he didn’t really care about it, he’s there for one reason and one reason only, teaching you to know your place.

“Fucking whore. You thought you were so smart with those non stop questions?” He pauses panting as he thrusts harder into your throat, the sound of you gagging and the wet thrusts echoing through the room. “Fucking hate journalists. Tell me… Who got the upper hand now?” 

You can't help but ignore him once again. It's not like you would give him what he wants and come undone beneath him, right? Of course you can’t answer him, after all you’re his number one hater. But even haters would give in when it’s the most mouthwatering cock a man can ever have. 

When you avoided answering, or maybe couldn’t answer since you were basically choking on his cock. His dick alone is enough to murder you if he wanted to. It only made him thrust faster, the asshole didn’t stop mouth fucking you even when he noticed your cheeks turning to a bright red and your eyes watering. Your cries turned him even more on. Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his pubic hair.

Finally, you gave him a wobbly nod, motioning that he has the upper hand.

His head fell back to his shoulders, “That’s good to hear.. You’re learning, you’re such a good girl…Fuck…” 

You smile at the praise. Surprisingly, him being somewhat ‘sweet’ only made him ten times hotter. 

Tears keep running down your red cheeks, your cries echoing through the room.

“Just so you know, I’m enjoying this. Your whimpers are music to my ear.” He groans. “But god dammit don’t whine like a fucking bitch.” He spits at you and it lands on your cheek. Add it to the list of body fluids covering your face, along with the sweat gathering at your forehead and drool drenching your chin. 

You moan around his thick cock, sending him vibrations through his whole body. After all, you’re not putting on an act, you are enjoying it which is something you, yourself, are afraid of. But mostly you were focused on getting oxygen into your lungs. And maybe he is right, as always. Maybe there really is a part of you that enjoys the pain. That burning stinging sensation in the back of your throat. It’s scary because it’s true. 

His thrusts then began to lose their rhythm, but still managed to keep up with his pace. You knew what was coming for you. You shut your eyes, dramatically accepting your fate. Your jaw was already tired from him using you. His shaft was heated up, thrusting in and out of your red swollen lips. His hand gripped on your hair even more tightly holding you in place while his hold on the gun loosened. 

“My cock is a reward, tasting me is a blessing. Fucking thank me for letting you suck me off.” He says between breaths. 

No response, just a wet sticky cough. But afraid of his reaction, you choke out with a full mouth, “thank you.”

You could promise that you felt the disgusted face he did, “what a filthy bitch didn't your parents teach you not to talk with a full mouth?” He says while non-stop grunting like a wounded animal. That's probably what he is anyways... A wounded animal.

Few seconds later, ropes of cum spurt out from his dick into my throat, milking it after the abuse it went through when he was hammering into my mouth. He pulls out from your mouth and tug his dick back into his boxers then his pull his pants back up.

“Swallow,” he orders. “Fucking swallow my cum.” Kai grabs your face and presses his fingers into your cheek flesh.

Desperately, all you wanted to do was spit it at him, right in his face, but you don’t. You actually swallow like the obedient little slut he said you are. His seed slides down your throat, alongside your dignity and maybe your hatred towards him. 

Your fingers reach to your face drying up the tears that ran down your cheeks and the saliva running down your chin along with lines of cum. Looking up to him, you see him breathing heavily. His body working hard to get the oxygen he needs from how hard you sucked him off.

He looks at you up and down, judging you, it can't be anything good.

You expected him to do something, whether beat you up, shoot you, the least of it is spit at you telling you how much of a filthy whore you are.

But he didn't, and you were grateful for that... For him..

The taste of him still lingers at the tip of your tongue. You lick your lips unintentionally and in the most discrete way possible. Last thing you want is having him know you liked it and boost his ego, not that it could possibly needed any more promotions. But he already knows, you're sure of it. The way you sucked the life out of him like it was the best thing you laid your lips on, you can't hide that from anyone.

He turns and walks to the door, completely silent. What could he be possibly thinking about...?

He pauses at the door, turning his head to see you, he’s sweaty.

“If I see you run your mouth about any of my work, newt time will be much worse.” He promises, which you thought was kind of cute.. Promises… 

Zipping up his fly, and slipping his gun in his pants, he finally turns away and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

[shotokimchi]

When Their S/O Is a Seggs God

MINORS DNI

How would they react if their cute lover was like a succubus in bed LMAO Going through some hard stuff so wanted to drop this here to laugh a little JSDFHSDK-

A/N:Sorry for being inactive y'all i swear I'm not ignoring the requests, just preparing for an important exam this year, but I'll be back around Julyyyy

Little side note: Characters are aged up so don't come at me smh

part2 w/Dabi and Midoriya

Bakugo

So we all know that this man doesn't sleep around randomly. My guy dates the "one" for him he's planning to marry you so if you aren't planning about settling down...

Too bad for you missy (Lemme see your ring finger bitch you gonna get wifed up💍)

After taking you out to meet his parents, this chili oil literally falls in love with you (i mean he already did but when he saw how you treated his momma and papa- boy was CHOKING ON HIS HEART❤️) so he decides to take your relationship to the next level.

Needs and excuse to leave early so literally tells his parents that he has a bad case of diarrhea ( Do ya'll know that video LMAO) and drags you out to his car

Lemme tell you he ran over at least 5 red lights just to have sex with you-

And you are just confused about why he's suddenly acting like a rabid dog i mean he's always acting like one but this time-

"Suki, why is your mouth foaming?"

On the way to your apartment, you had an inner conflict about actually taking him to a vet, you aint planning on telling him that tho.

After finally throwing you onto the shared bed like a sack of flour mf flies for a second in the air like a bloodthirsty mosquito- (the only difference is he's thirsty for the ✨All-mighty pussy juice✨)

Dw tho man asks for your consent because he loves you a lot and doesn't want your first time to be scary and all-

Wait did i say first time?

YES MF THINKS YOU'RE A VIRGIN- but guess what he's about to find out...

Before he can start kissing you, you push him onto his back and rip off his pants and leave a small peck on his lips before riding him like you are in a horse race- Good news gurl you are about to win, no one can compare

Poor man is speechless bc you are literally singing on his dick like you are the headliner in a choir...

And while you are singing you are rhythmically bouncing too LMAO

IM👏GONNA👏PUMP👏EVERY👏SINGLE👏DROP👏OUT👏OF👏YOU

He aint scared no he just swallowed his tongue by accident- cuz you know...

HIS GIRL IS LITERALLY DOING THE DUCK WALK ON HIS DICK (🦆🦆🦆)

WALK THAT FUCKING DUCK Y/N QUACK QUACK QUACK

He decides to grab your hips to slow you down a little bc you are causing an earthquake with a magnitude of 6.9

but instead of slowing you down now you are making him jump on the bed with you too LMAOAOAOAOAO- imagine someone breaking in and seeing two floating figures on the bed

He's like "SLOW DOWN Y/N-"

But nuh uh you are too caught up in your own horny world so you continue to milk him (Fr tho calm down queen aren't those legs tired?🦵)

After cumming for the 5th time he tapped out LMAO-

You gave him a concussion bc of making him bounce for too long KSJFHJSDKFGSDKJHSD- POOR KATSUKI

He was laying there, unconscious with drool dripping down his mouth and it took you three full minutes to realise that he passed out (OMG I'm gone-)

Fly high Katsuki Bakugo 🕊️🕊️

Dw tho you made sure to pamper him the morning after, bringing him a breakfast tray filled with pancakes and a cup of coffee. A cute innocent smile plastered on your face

"Morning, baby!"

Needless to say, he was shocked ( pretty sure he thinks it was the hottest night ever but doesn't wanna hurt his own pride by telling you that)

"WHAT HAPPENED-"

Todoroki

BAHAHAHA OMG OK LISTEN-

So both of you are lovebirds obv because Todoroki would be the most caring boyfriend ever (i'll fight you about this one 🥊🥊🥊) so its impossible not to be in love with him

So pretty baby thinks it's going to be all about kisses, vanilla, sweet loving, him showing how much he cares about you etc.

AND HE IS A VIRGIN

Todoroki being a virgin is such a turn on he trusts you enough to give his first time to you (aw❤️🤍)

...but you didnt know that he was a virgin

I mean come on look at him how can he be a virgin while looking THAT PRETTY

So one time, while you guys were chilling on the couch watching Titanic and snacking on some strawberries together he decides to make the first move and gently holds your hand while whispering sweet things to your ear and then you hear the magical word (open sesame zimzalabim this coochie 🔮)

"Y/n, I wanna do it."

BIG MISTAKE SHOTO VERY BIG- So being the horny queen you are the wicked horny grin makes its way to your lips and baby is concerned Before he can say anything you immediately grab a strawberry and stuff it into his mouth and quickly try to get him off of his sweatpants

Then you work your magic on him by giving him the best and first head of his life ✨ and trust me he is enjoying it very much

Mmmm yes that famous glock glock 60000 GOBBLE UP BABES don't let em Santa Claus looking pubic hair get into your nose tho🎅

Pretty moans were filling the living room while his fingers lock with yours

But the baby was too lost in his own pleasure so he accidentally bit the strawberry and took it out of his mouth

But you noticed so you grabbed a new one and harshly shoved it into his mouth

"Dont. swallow. the. strawberry."

Babies eyes went wide

YOU SCARED HIM

AND IT WAS HIS FIRST TIME TOO

he %100 looked like this-

So now he was drowning in his own pool of saliva trying not to bite into the strawberry while his eyes were rolling at the back of his head (bc of your amazing tongue skills)

Spot the difference between your mouth and a vacuum cleaner

NONE

When i tell you, you were sucking him DRY

like the next Todoroki generation got to the point of extinction

at this point he was trying to pry you off of his dick bc the overstimulation was TOO much lolol

Poor baby accidentally covered the couch with small burns

when you lifted your head to check up on him you were met with a sobbing Shoto

BOY WAS GASPING

Literally thought of bringing him an oxygen tank but decided against it bc he calmed down after receiving your loving kisses You layed his head on your chest while combing through his locks with your fingers, you made sure to give him a great aftercare

"Are first times are this rough?"

You choked on Casper the ghosts dick

"WHAT-" Literally mourned for two hours bc of treating him so roughly LMAO

A/N: I'm done- sorry for the typos if i have any, i was too lazy to edit :p

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - six

word count: 5.5k

warnings: nsfw 18+, smut, language, angst.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: well, they're broken. it's unceremonious and it's real and they're hurting so deeply, coping in ways only they know... the wrong way. You're here to meet Bad Choice Bradley, I presume? I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

five.two

“Rooster,” Annie smiled before him, Ava strapped to her chest in her baby carrier sleeping peacefully.

Bradley felt his poor, old heart sink because he’d done so well to now avoiding you and your family since everything blew the fuck up in your relationship. It was a small town and the more you tried to avoid someone, the more likely they were to cross your path. “Ann,” he gave a slight smile. “How you doin'?”

“Morning coffee brings me back to life after a rough night,” she reported. “Not on base today? Look at the beard,” you said, fondly as he realised Annie didn't have a clue. 

“No,” he bit back the sour taste in his mouth. Obviously you’d not told your family about his pending trial… and in a way, he guessed he was thankful. It probably brought a certain amount of embarrassment to you, if he thought about it truthfully, given Viper and the respect he still commanded at work and from the locals. You didn’t need his bullshit on your shoulders. "Few more weeks to myself. Just finished my run,” he said even though it appeared the most obvious thing in the world. Shorts, runners, Navy tank glued to him, sweating from top to toe from morning humidity.

He just wanted to get his coffee and head home to shower. He should have just forgone the fucking caffeine. He had a perfectly good coffee machine at home for Christ’s sake. He cursed the fact you introduced him to this coffee shop and he knew, eventually he’d see you here, but he’d been so smart. He knew your work schedule and now, he was always the first in line when he knew your first classes for the day were clocking over. He was no dummy - sure, he had his moments when his head was stuck up his ass, but caffeine was his drug of choice and after you’d secretly revealed to him the best in the town and he was addicted.  “Lucky. You just missed her…” Annie told him softly, nodding off in the direction towards work... his villa was in the opposite direction and taunting him and his poor choices.

He hummed, unreadable. “Did I?”  He was pleased with the relief that washed over him. It was such a non-committal response and he knew he owed Annie so much better. Annie wasn't the cause of his recurring cycle of problems. But shit, he was so good at making his problems... everyone’s.

“Loves her morning coffee,” Annie waved her reusable cup towards him, and gee, it was so awkward. Rooster nodded, pleased that he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one in this conversation. Even Annie, usually outgoing, funny Annie, seemed completely out of character with her current word vomit.

And though he was desperate to, he would not ask after you because he knew there was no way you could feel as awful as he did but he forced it out anyway. “How is she, Annie?” he tried to hide the sadness in his voice, but it was impossible. He was so desperate to catch even the slightest whisper about you - whether it was Annie, Phoenix or any other mutual acquaintances. The radio silence was quietly killing him.

After a beat, Annie replied warily, “A wreck. Not that she’d ever let us know. We’re not seeing hell a lot of her so that kind of speaks for itself, I guess. Or it's exactly what she wants, I don't know," she rambled because Bradley could see Annie didn't know what to do to help you, and that hurt him more. The frustration in the air was paramount. The people you were once closest to now the one furthest at arm's length and he knew that was because of him.

“Right,” he replied, forcing a lack of interest in his voice. He didn’t want to sound emotional that you were upset, but he certainly didn’t want to feel sad for you for the decision that you made. Bradley needed you to know that you were feeling the way you were feeling for what you decided to drag you both through. He wanted to work things out, he didn't want either of you to be hurting like this - “Sorry to hear that.” He shrugged, knowing how cold it sounded and the surprise on Annie's face telling the story. What the fuck else was he supposed to say?

All the texts he'd sent bounced, and he knew you'd blocked him - what was the use of calling? He considered sending flowers, champagne, fucking skywrite if it got your attention, but all his desperate ways for your attention would fall on deaf ears. And as desperate as he was to go to you, knock on your door and hold you until reason came back into that smart brain of yours, he knew for now, you simply needed your time. He just hoped it wasn't forever.

“So... how are you?” Annie asked, welcomingly changing the subject.

He shrugged, sipping his coffee. He didn't feel like admitting he was about to head home, shower and see his JAG. It just didn't feel like it could roll off his tongue properly without the rest of his life crashing around him. He’d been so good to protect his façade and damn, he lied so easily. It was his most hated personality trait and he wished he could stop it, but sometimes it was just easier. “PT,” he lied, but he knew fully well Annie didn’t care for his physical recovery - she had good intentions but he knew she wanted to pry into his convoluted, messed up brain, see if he was as tragically missing her sister, if he was as tormented as you were. 

Dissect and get into the deepest, darkest crevices. 

But Bradley would never tell. There were enough people trying to get in there as it was. And right now he wasn’t going to give anyone the benefit of that bullshit. That hurt stayed with him, no matter the cost. It motivated him, got him through the day to be better, stronger, harder and he wasn't letting his guard down for anyone, not Annie, not Phoenix, not Mav.

Not you. No one.

“That’s fantastic,” she said as Ava wriggled against her, waking. “I’m glad for you, Rooster,” Annie bobbed to settle the little one, whining and probably ready for her morning feed. "You need your head in the clouds."

If that ever happened again.

“She got big,” Rooster said, keenly changing the subject and turning his attention to Ava. He reached for her her little hand and Ava wrapped her chubby little palm against his pointer. Bradley knew even if kids weren't in his future, the future he had quietly hoped to share with you, this was a cute kid and it only reminded him of you when you were playing World’s Greatest Aunty and putting the idea in his head that maybe… yeah, he could get the family he always wanted with you. It was going to take more to desensitise himself, he realised. 

“They do that,” Annie said, with a gentle smile. “Way too quickly. I feel like she's minutes away from rolling, crawling, and then up and walking out to college."

And Rooster laughed, because there was Annie, the Annie he grew up with. They both needed that little break in the terse. "I hope not that fast," he gently pressed a kiss on Ava's knuckles and loosened his finger, free again.

"Well, I’d better get her home for some food and start our day. Good to see you, Rooster,” she gave him a small smile. “If you need anything, call me, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”

Bradley did the cordial thing and nodded. “Will do. See ya around, Annie," he said, not waiting for a dragged out goodbye and heading in the other direction. He had a house to start bringing back to life even if he had fallen apart in every other way.

It had been about month since you and Bradley… yeah. Since then. Things had been fairly busy for you, you’d stayed to yourself, regardless of nagging from your family, some other friends who wanted to claim your time now you were single again and, of course, Natasha. She was shipping out in a few days and wanted to have a drink but the last place you’d be caught dead at was The fucking Hard Deck. Reassuring everyone you were good, or okay, was next to useless. No one believed you anyway.  

You'd kept yourself busy. The apartment needed to be unpacked again, with no time like the present, a perfect time to purge and it felt so much better in your small part of the world that you’d rid yourself of those little things you simply didn’t need anymore. Clothes, kitchenwares, changed up the orientation of the bedroom, indulging and confusing yourself with feng shui and vastu shastra on household karma/good vibes among other things. 

But you really did feel lighter. You built a cute study nook for your business stuff. You and Bradley had planned to use one of the rooms in the Bradshaw place, giving you more time to work from home, instead of staying later after classes to do your never-ending small business accounting.

But that wasn’t the case now and you had all the time in the world.

“Fuck, Nat. Stop,” you muttered to yourself, scarfing down some leftovers for dinner. It was late and frankly, you had little to no interest in heading out, even if it was to a venue of your choice. You had to give Natasha credit: she was trying so hard to release you from your self-imposed imprisonment. You know what you were up for - 20 questions about how you were coping. You'd be lying to say you weren't worried about his impending trial and were curious to reach out. But it probably would just distract him and he didn’t need that. You were sure it was this week or next. 

Maybe you would get Grandpa to contact Bradley? 

But as far as you were concerned, Bradley seemed to be doing just fine. Like you’d agreed, you didn’t need each other anyway. Besides, he hadn't contacted you - and you hadn't let him after yep, taking the high road and blocking him. Maybe he needed this more than you did, you tried to reason with yourself. A guy like him didn't deserve to be tied down with someone who had the baggage you did. He deserved better. 

You tossed your fork on the plate, suddenly not hungry for the stir fry you were desperate for only minutes earlier although the need to get tiddly didn't sound terrible at all.

Enjoying his quiet drink, Rooster knew his time was running out as Phoenix sidled her way to him, a fair smile on her face. Unreadable, and God, he hated that. “Didn’t know you were coming out tonight,” she commented, as she put two beers on Payback’s tab, placing one before Bradley. 

She followed his gaze to the pretty woman across the bar, making pathetic doe eyes and suggestive overtones with her beer bottle and tongue. Natasha would never get used to it. And sadly, Rooster seemed pretty into it, for what she could gather. “Know her?” Phoenix asked as Rooster’s lip quirked and he stumbled to find an undefined answer.

Truth be told, yeah. Rooster did know her. Not super well, but well enough to remember how into him she seemed as she led him back to her place last week, the first person he’d fucked since… and, he supposed, it was fine. It was good, she was eager to please and she had zeroed in on him the minute he walked in last week and again tonight. Rooster didn’t generally put his boots under the same bed twice, but he lately wasn’t feeling particularly fussy. He did ask himself if there was a supposed grieving period for how long he should probably wait before getting into the game again but his brain (and Hangman) told him what he needed to hear.

Fuck her. 

“Oh, Rooster, no. You slept with her?” Natasha asked, the disappointment dripped from her voice and Bradley felt about three feet tall.

“Oh, fuck this,” he bemoaned. “She broke up with me, I have to be celibate too?” he asked. It seemed so rehearsed and he didn't lie but he knew the shit he was going to cop for spending time with any woman that wasn’t you. 

Natasha sighed. “No, I guess not.” 

“Believe it or not, I can fuck who and when I want, Phoenix,” he gruffly reminded her. "You don't get to dictate."

“No, you’re right,” she agreed. Who was she to argue? She was desperate for her friends to get over this little ‘blip’, but seeing you separately and the hurt you’d both caused each other, she began to wonder if this blip as she'd hopefully referred to is as was really the end of what could have been the best thing that happened to both of you. 

You were no longer a couple. Rooster had moved into his parents' old place alone and seemed to be enjoying taking to it with a sledgehammer. You were doing your usual MO when things went sour – you didn’t answer calls, and rarely responded to texts before anyway. You were working and looking at growing the business, so it was the best excuse in the books not to come to the bar, a surefire way of making sure she didn’t pump into Bradley.

“I can’t see him, Nat. He was the love of my life. And not being able to touch him, kiss him, laugh with him? It would just kill me,” you had told her sadly, week’s earlier when Natasha came over unannounced and sporting Thai food and rosé. 

“What is so fucking funny is that I keep hearing how badly she is doing, yet no one gives a flying fuck that maybe, just maybe, I’m going through it too," Bradley muttered, Natasha surprise crossing her face as he continued, "Nat, we were moving in together. But it’s over now,” he poured what was left of his beer down his throat, knowing that coming out tonight was not his wisest idea. Bad Choice Bradley was bubbling in his bloodstream and frankly, he didn't mind if he escaped. He was so sick of doing everything by the rules, but where had that gotten him? Absolutely no-fucking-where. Jobless and Loveless. “And for the record?” he hissed purposefully to Natasha. “I was in that fuckin’ relationship too. I didn't call time.” 

“Okay, okay,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re wholeheartedly allowed to feel that way. We just don’t see you… as down about it,” she used her words carefully.

“It was weeks ago,” he sniped.

“It wasn’t that long - ”

“Jesus, Phoenix. She was the fucking love of my life,” he hissed. "I wanted to work this out. She blocked my number, she wants nothing to do with me."

Natasha held her palm towards his chest but didn’t dare touch him, she could feel the heat, the anger reverberating off him. “Okay, I agree. I’m sorry, I know you’re hurting, buddy. And I’ve let you down.”

He frowned and paused. “What are you talking about?” 

“This isn’t just the breakup, Rooster,” Natasha said, adjusting her posture to stand with him and continuing before she could let up. “Everything has been a bit of a shitstorm. Your past is always following you around, you were part of a suicide mission that almost got you killed and now you’re waiting for trial and I should have been doing more to make sure you were okay with that."

And for the moment, Bradley was silenced and frown in reply.

"Are you still seeing the shrink?”

He huffed out a breath, replacing his beer eagerly with the one Natasha had slid towards him. He didn’t need this holier-than-thou bullshit where Natasha got to try and save him to be really honest. He just gazed back at her, now unreadable. 

“Isn’t it mandatory?” she pressed lightly. “You should really be talking to someone – ”

“I’m still going, I’m hating it. If I don’t get clearance from the shrink, I never get in my jet again regardless of how the trial plays itself out. Satisfied?” he rolled his eyes. “See ya later, Phoenix,” he said, leaving his her side and heading over to his new friend, who greeted him with a tender kiss on the side of his mouth, and while he wasn’t repulsed, you used to do that to him, and he didn’t like it half as much as he used to.

“Didn’t think you were going to come over and say hi, Rooster.”

“I’m here with friends,” he admitted, whom he’s just ditched to come over here and line up an easy lay for the night. 

“You wanna dance?”

He nodded, a small grin gracing his features that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Yeah, lemme hit the bathroom first really quick, okay?” 

“Sure,” she smiled as he grasped her forearm, gave the easy smoulder and disappeared. And she, with the name he couldn’t recall (but really wanted to), devotedly followed moments later. Messy, unplanned bar head wasn’t on his bingo card for the night, but he’d surely take it. He tried to be surprised when she cornered him into the stall and undid the few top buttons on her shirt, her breasts brushing against his chest as she groped his half-hard cock and played with the zip on his jeans before letting her soft, warm palm slide beneath his boxer briefs. His breathing immediately shallow because her hand was better than his hand and she sank to her knees and licked her lips, she didn't give an ounce of hesitation to take him deep.

He guessed he never really had to work hard to get what he wanted. 

And he couldn’t hate himself more for it, because he compared everything to you. The way your big, beautiful eyes would peer up at him, begging for reassurance you were pleasing him, giving everything he deserved and more, your delicate strands he’d mess his long fingers into… it wasn’t the same but he came deep in the back of her throat that she swallowed and tidied up devoutly and he kind of wanted to be sick. But as she did that thing with her tongue, he wanted to cum so badly, as she gripped his thighs to keep her balance, he regarded her, knowing this wasn’t a woman he could fall in love with. He would only ever love one woman and right now, she wanted nothing to do with him. 

He shook the notion from his head, concentrating on how silky her tongue caressed the head of his cock and remembered this didn’t happen all the time and to enjoy it as he thrust into her face, closing his eyes and imagining you again, getting him over the line as he knotted his fingers in her hair and fucked her face. Seeing you and those pretty sounds you’d make gagging on his cock, deep as you possibly could and what you couldn’t, pumping in your delicate palms. 

He grunted as he came in wild spurts down her throat until he was spent and watched as she tidied him up, sweetly placing his softening dick back in his boxers and pulling his jeans back into place, sweetly caressing his throbbing groin. 

With a quiet laugh, he helped her to her feet, cupping her chin a little rough. "You didn't need to do that, you know?"

"No," she agreed. "But you tasted so good time, I couldn't wait for more."

Bradley blushed, mostly ashamed. He certainly had nothing to be proud about. “I’ll be right out…” he said to her and she nodded and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her lipstick was improper, her hair was well and truly a mess. Just how he liked it… if it was you. And he knew she would run out to tell her friends exactly what had happened, darting out alone.

Rooster looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection and rubbed his tired face. “Who the fuck are you, Bradshaw?” he accused himself. He took a deep breath, ran his hands under the cool water, washed his palms then splashed some water on his flushed face. “Jesus,” he muttered to himself before inhaling sharply and straightening up. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Natasha muttered to herself as Bob caught wind of her strife and looked up from his peanuts, concerned for his friend. "Fuckkk."

“What’s up, partner?” he asked, perplexed. She lifted her phone and the text you’d just sent. “Oh,” Bob said, adjusting his glasses, a trait he did constantly as he grew nervous. “That is… that is not good.” 

“No…” Natasha agreed, casting her gaze to find Rooster, but he was nowhere to be found. “Shit.” 

Rooster had spotted his new friend with her group and gave a slight nudge towards the exit when she caught his eye. Excitedly, she gave a wink back as her friends gave her teasing words of encouragement but Rooster didn’t care. He just needed to get out of there. 

The bar was stifling and he didn’t feel like Phoenix’s third degree on his life choices anymore. He wasn’t a dickhead – he was well aware he was making poor decisions. Bad Choice Bradley. But this wasn’t his first one lately, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last.

Darting through the throng of officers and civilians, he made a beeline for the door, thrusting it open, and he’d be lying to say in his frustration, there was some heat and malice behind it.

“Jesus, goddammit,” the voice hissed on the other side, the heavy door hitting a patron on the other side trying to enter. Rooster tried to catch them, almost knocking them to the ground in the process and he couldn't believe his dumb luck that it was you who were on the other side as he tried to phantom his escape. You skipped backwards quickly as Rooster yanked the door back, trying to stop its force. His face paled when he realised just who it was he’d almost knocked off their feet.

He whispered your name, and you’d swear you had seen a ghost. “Shit, I’m so fuckin' sorry," he said, the recognition all over his face as he took you in, scared and studying you.

"Shit," you muttered. Bradley could hear the pain in your voice, whether it was through injury or just disgruntled, he couldn't be sure. “Hey,” you said nervously. This was not how you wanted to see him for the first time since you’d broken up. 

“I was just leaving,” he explained, reminding you the door had walloped you in the elbow and you rubbed it in recollection, a gentle thrum from its impact. He looked back over his shoulder. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he said again. He so badly wanted to reach out and kiss your injury better. The injury he caused, and he loathed himself for it. “How bad I get you?” he asked softly, taking a step closer. 

Before he got closer, you closed in on yourself and covered the sting in your elbow with a step or two. “It’s fine, Brad – Rooster. It’s no worries,” you reassured him, flippantly. Your body language told him everything he needed to know. He was flatlining. 

He nodded slowly, saddened at how you recoiled from him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

“Okay. Sorry, huh?” 

“It’s fine really,” you said as a pretty young thing wandered out. She joined Bradley on his hip and you didn’t miss how her hand curved into his elbow and how his face changed, the guilt masking his handsome features. She looked back at you both expectedly. 

“Ready to go, Rooster?” she asked as he paused, gauging your response. He knew his timing was about as bad as it could be. 

And yep, it looked exactly as it looked. 

“Yeah. I’ll be just a minute,” he said, the embarrassment etched all over his skin as he ripped out your heart and toyed with it in his beautiful hands before you. His ears reddened and he licked his lips as she wandered away, calling back over her shoulder when she’d reached his Bronco. Well, she knew his car, maybe this wasn’t as new as it looked. 

Yep, it looked exactly as it looked. 

You’d thank Natasha personally for the warning in a moment - she probably wouldn't like it though. “Friend of yours?” you figured trying to balance your tone. Who were you to get upset at him? To Bradley Bradshaw, you were no one and that was what hurt the most.

“Something like that,” he admitted quietly. 

Maybe you didn’t need that drink Nat promised. You needed Penny to drown you in the top shelf. “Nat’s waiting for me,” you explained to him. “Have a good night, Rooster,” you told him as he reluctantly pulled the door open for you to scurry under his strong, golden arm and get lost in the Friday night throng. He watched after you until he lost you.

Rooster ran his clammy palm over his face, he felt ill as he stepped away from the door. He wanted to be sick, he knew exactly how pathetic he looked. Why the fuck didn’t Natasha tell him you were coming? He would have hauled ass ages ago and without incident. He pulled his phone out and threw a brutal one-liner at her about giving him a head’s up next time and made his way to his car, where his friend/date/hook up/whoever was waiting with a bright grin. 

“Thought you were gonna ditch me,” she laughed lightly, he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. 

“Look, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well right now, and I have a real early start tomorrow morning. Think we could take a rain check?” he asked, keeping a safe distance from her. She raised an eyebrow.

“You sure? Five minutes ago, you seemed really fucking into that blowjob in the bathroom,” she hissed at hime. And it was fine head, her lipstick was still smudged on his cock, he would always be appreciative of anyone giving him their best. But again, it wasn’t your pretty lips, nose desperately trying to nuzzle the soft hair at his happy trail, staring up at him like he possessed all the stars in the sky. God, he was truly beginning to hate himself and he missed your mouth, however smart it was, wrapped around his cock, giving him an earful... kissing him.

He shook his head dismally. “Look, I can’t do this, okay? M’sorry,” he unlocked the car, hopped into the driver’s seat and keyed the ignition, peeling out of the carpark to the allotment of insults and birds being hurled his way. It would be some time before he decided to venture back to The Hard Deck, which was probably best.

And deservingly so, he reminded himself. He'd take a few weeks off from the bar, he’d been through this before. Never go back to the scene of the crime, especially after one-night stands. He knew better, but it all seemed so easy tonight until you were before him and ruined everything. 

He pulled into a car park, the ocean bustling before him and he sat for a moment, his palms latched onto the steering wheel, his knuckles white as the adrenaline of the night coursed through his veins. Taught and teetering, he stared out to the ocean, needing answers to all the questions in his messed up brain.

God, you looked so beautiful. You had done something different to your hair, not a lot, just subtle, but he noticed it, the scent of his favourite perfume, it was so ridiculously expensive but it was the only real fancy thing you afforded yourself even if you used it sparingly, that drifted off you and enveloped him. He remembered it on his pillows, it lasted for the week until the sheets were changed. 

But your eyes… They told the story. Seeing each other was a shock to the system, but you just looked so upset when… fuck, whatever her name was made her presence known. Getting his phone from his pocket, he sighed and found your last texts to each other. 

It was all so sweet. 

You: I love you, big boy. Hurry home to me xxx

Bradley: Love you too. Lemme finish up and I’ll be right there x 

He ignored the subsequent texts he tried to send that all bounced back. Now it all seemed like another world and another time.

“So, yeah, that was fun,” you told Natasha as she gave Penny the signal to keep lining the shots up. 

“You okay, darlin’ heart?” Penny asked sadly. Not that she wanted to pry, but Live had asked her to keep an eye on you if and when she could and she didn’t know if your mother was really wanting to see how brokenhearted you were.

“I’m awful,” you confided, voice strong but powerful because if you didn’t talk about this, you’d sink into another one of those solitary states where you wallowed in the misery of your broken heart, you were going to explode. “I have ruined the best thing that has happened to me then I get to see him take a one-night stand home.”

In no world would Natasha tell you this wasn’t their first hook-up and tossed back one of the lined up shots to avoid putting her foot in her mouth. “He’s slipped back into old habits,” Natasha shuddered as the tequila burned. She wasn’t defending him, but it was what it was as Penny made some polite excuses to continue working. “He a fucking moron, all dudes are the same. Easy pussy, get their dicks wet. They should all be lobotomised," she raised her shot and you, Natasha and Penny whipped the shots back.

But Rooster Bradshaw owed you absolutely nothing. And he proved he knew it too.

“He talked to me like a stranger. He’s never spoken to me like that in thirty years.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has he said he’s missed me or anything?” you asked, sadly and as Natasha prepared to answer, you dismally added, “I’ve ruined everything because I was scared about all the wrong things. Nat, I’ve messed this up and I don’t know what to do to fix it.”

She nodded but she heard what she heard. “…do you want to fix it?”

“I can’t function without him. I am just bumbling along, missing him while he is recovering alone. He's about to stand trial... he needs support,” and you know fully well that Natasha, Penny, Mav and others had Bradley's back but you also knew there were only a few people he'd truly let help him. “Will you still be here for the trial?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here… I’m a witness. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

“Can you tell me how it goes?”

She nodded. “Of course.” 

“I can’t believe I gave all this up.”

She nodded. “I hate seeing you hurting like this.” Both of you, she wanted to add.

“Does he talk about me?” you asked quietly.

Phoenix sighed, she didn’t want to get into this. Anything he’d ever told her was done so in confidentiality. And while you were her great friend, he was too. Rooster didn't have many confidants. "I - "

“Natasha. Does Bradley want to fix us?” you raised your eyes, and Natasha saw the tears that threatened to spill. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Only hours before he was talking about his latest conquest. She saw that woman follow him into the bathrooms but she had no idea where her friend stood, even if she knew you two were so much better together. She could tell you how angry about it he was. But there was no way that was going to help the situation even if she was desperate to say or do anything that could possibly help.

You shrugged and took another shot. “Whatever, he’s clearly moved on and I will just have to accept that. Another round?" you asked, a casual frown gracing your features and Natasha nodded.

"One more," she loaded the bar up and couldn’t imagine being in her plane tomorrow if this was how the night was going to go. 

masterlist.

Big thanks as always to @gretagerwigsmuse for helping me get this fic over this line x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[blaisenova]

ermmmm like i dunno if you're still doing requests buttt could you do like kustard but it turns to dustard

that dynamic always interested me but i never see much about it :3

anon, has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?

the kustard to dustard pipeline is WOEFULLY UNEXPLORED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD. so, naturally, i was REALLY excited when i got this ask. yippie!!! an excuse to write fun fucked up dynamics!!!!!

this one is pretty tame. i can't think of any warnings you might need other than it being like..... long and, obviously, kinda angsty. it's fluffy in the end tho. but that's what you get when you ask me to write i guess LOL

thank you all for the requests btw!! i was NOT expecting so many after the kist fic, but i am pleasantly surprised and am trying to chip away at them as quickly as i can. spat this one out in a few hours, so it might not be my best work, but i'm happy with how it turned out either way :)

as always, the link to this fic on ao3 will be in the reblogs once it's posted, if that's your cup of tea (as it is mine LMAO)

i hope this feeds you well anon. thank you for the ask <3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place.

Or, at least, that was what Red had wholeheartedly believed up until he’d met his other self, in a universe that was so very unlike his own. A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.

Initially, Red hated Sans. 

It felt ridiculous, looking back upon it – in the moments when his head lay in Sans’ lap and gentle fingers traced over his scars like they were poetry written in a language Red had never bothered to learn, and he wondered what Sans saw in him that he hadn’t seen; wondered if this was what it felt like to love himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d grown were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Sans wasn’t so much like hating himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.

Really, Sans was so unsuspecting that Red had been foolish enough to let his guard down, forgetting that then was when feeling was the most liable to appear. 

He hadn’t expected to fall in love with the laugh – genuine, unabashed, and lacking all of the gruffness of his own – of someone whose humour was just as terrible as his own.

He’d been far too blind to realise how incredibly endearing it was for someone to wake up and allow themselves to be bleary and half-asleep, cuddling into his arm without even meaning to, even if it meant opening themselves up to being easily picked off.

In allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would bleed him dry so tenderly and lovingly that he couldn’t even think to fight against the bloodloss; when, instead, he’d lean into the knife and ask them to twist it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.

Though, it was a small price to pay to hear that raucous laughter over jokes that weren’t even funny. Trivial, really, in comparison to soft smiles and gentle touches that moved slowly just to prove to him how tender the world could really be.

“Earth to Red.”

A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. For once, it was, just to be soft.

“Come in, Red.”

There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.

Tiredly, he bat away the hand that waved in front of his sockets, only to grab it by the wrist and pull it back down, firmly, on the crown of his skull. With a laugh, the fingers scratched gentle circles into the bone, and Red hummed happily at the feeling, allowing his sockets to slip shut as he lay against Sans’ legs.

“Where’d you go, space cadet?”

“Nowhere,” he grumbled, sighing softly as he fully relaxed into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”

Again, there was that laugh, and Red’s soul fluttered. “With your eyes open?”

“It’s a little known talent of mine,” he hummed.

“Gee, must be handy,” came the response, and amusement never sounded so beautiful. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

“Nuh uh,” and he couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “It’s genetic.”

“Ah, damn. Guess we gotta add that to the list of differences.”

“Guess so.” His breath hitched as the hand on his head trailed downward to cup his cheek. His browbones furrowed, ever so slightly, and he felt himself go tense.

“Hey. Look at me.”

After a moment, Red opened his sockets, and there was no sight more welcome than the face of his lover. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment: smooth bone, unmarred by chips and cracks; eyelights that glowed softly in dark sockets, like how he imagined fireflies might; ever present, gentle smile that smoothed away his worries. Oh, to be so untouched by cruelty. He’d do anything to keep it that way.

“‘Sup,” he breathed, and Sans’ smile widened as he snorted.

“‘Sup,” he returned. His thumb ran circles over his cheek, and Red leaned into the touch. “You okay?”

With a snicker, he rolled his eyelights at the question. “Super duper.”

Despite himself, Sans laughed too, but, still, pressed on. “You sure? You were spacing out pretty bad before. Like, way out in deep space,” he emphasised, unnecessarily. “No planets around, just stars. Way beyond our galaxy. Uncharted territory. Where no man has gone before.”

“Alright, alright, I get the picture” Red interrupted, though not without chuckling. “‘M okay. Was just thinking.”

When Sans’ head cocked to the side, Red couldn’t help but grin. “About?”

“Uranus.”

At first, his sockets simply narrowed, confused, then all at once, “Ura– Oh. Alright, perv. Har har.”

But, he was laughing, and Red was, too, like it was the funniest joke in the world despite it not even being funny. Maybe it didn’t matter, if Red was the one to say it; if Sans was the one to laugh. Maybe, then, it could be good, even if it wasn’t, really. The sound of their laughter, something shared and sacred, was what Red imagined it might feel like to hear the birds chirp when the sun rose and turned the sky whatever colours it was supposed to when it drove the night away. He hoped that it was blue, like Sans’ favourite colour, but the pictures in his textbooks were too faded to be sure.

When he tuned back in, the laughter had tapered off.

“You do that a lot, y’know,” Sans noted, almost absentmindedly, and his hands turned back to trailing shapes on Red’s skull.

He grunted at the feeling. “Do what?”

“Go to space,” Sans said, simply. “Or… somewhere else. That I can’t reach.”

Red frowned, closing his sockets to cut off the dull thrum of agony he felt in his soul whenever Sans’ smile didn’t reach his eyes like that. “I do it less than I used to. It used to be better, somewhere else – anywhere else – but ‘m not so sure anymore.”

“Where would you wanna go?” he asked, in a whisper. “If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

For a moment, Red considered. The answer would have been easy before – the surface, of course. Where Paps and every other monster longed to be – but access to the multiverse had opened up options that he’d never known existed. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden, why should he want to look for it anywhere else?

“Think I’d rather just stay here,” he hummed. “With you.”

Maybe he should have questioned the way that Sans’ hands stilled at his answer. Maybe he should have opened his eyes; looked at his face; seen his expression; known what it meant.

But, he didn’t.

“Geez,” Sans breathed, with a laugh that sounded breathless. “My answer feels stupid in comparison.”

“Yeah? What’s yours?”

“Anywhere else. Anywhere at all.”

In hindsight, Red should have known it was too good to last; too good to stay good.

A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.

Of course, there was a catch. 

There was always a catch. Every childish fantasy grew tainted with time, like the innocence of children was stripped with age. Every fairy tale book grew weary and old, pages yellowed and frayed. Every picture faded, until you couldn’t be sure whether the sky was blue or grey.

But, you hoped it was blue anyway, and maybe that was your mistake.

It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place. That was what Red wholeheartedly believed. Maybe, after all, there was a reason that love and LOVE were spelled the same.

Try as he might, though, Red could not hate him.

It felt ridiculous – in the moments when hands clamped around his neck like a vice, choked by the grip and the grief that came with it, as if the two were one in the same, and they would both cry, both tremble in fear, or fury, or something worse, and Red would think that this was what it was like to hate himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d changed were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Dust wasn’t so much like loving himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.

Really, Red had underestimated Dust as he had been before; had assumed that kindness meant the incapacity for cruelty.

And, in allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would leave scars so deep that all he could think of was how much he missed the feeling; when he’d search for the knife and throw himself against it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.

Before, he’d thought it was a small price to pay. Trivial, really, in comparison to what he had to gain from it. As if it were a simple transaction as opposed to something living, and breathing, and ever changing; as if he would never have to be the one who was tender; as if that made it anything less valuable.

“Red.”

A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. Just as before, it was. Harsher now, but Dust had taught Red to be soft, and Red would teach him what he’d forgotten.

“Red.”

There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.

With a jolt, he came back to reality to a slap on the face, not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to be startling. He frowned, but, nonetheless, took his hand by the wrist and guided it to the crown of his skull. Hesitantly, as if spurred on by some muscle memory, the fingers ran in gentle circles across his bone, and Red hummed in approval at the feeling as he lay against Dust’s legs.

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” he mumbled, unconsciously leaning into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”

“With your eyes open,” Dust said, and it wasn’t a question. “Freak.”

Immediately, Red snorted. “Guess we gotta add that to the list of similarities.”

Despite himself, Dust laughed; the sound short, subdued, and nothing like the laugh he’d fallen in love with, but something about it made his soul flutter, nonetheless. “Guess so.”

After a moment, Red opened his sockets. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment – as they had before – smooth bone that crackled and buzzed with magic, refusing to be underestimated; eyelights that glowed brightly in dark sockets, like how he imagined neon signs would on a city street in the middle of the night; a face shrouded by shadow, as if it was saved for him alone to see. In the end, he’d been marred by cruelty despite Red’s best efforts, but he was beautiful nonetheless.

“‘Sup,” Dust mumbled, and the edges of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile.

Slowly, Red lifted his hand and, ever so gently, cupped Dust’s cheek, pausing when his breath hitched, but, with the same caution, Dust leaned into the touch; barely enough to be noticed, but Red noticed. This time, he saw. “‘Sup,” he finally returned. “You okay?”

“You’re going to disappear,” Dust whispered, and his voice broke on the words in a way that made Red feel hollowed out. “You’re going to go somewhere else. Somewhere that I can’t reach. Like you do when you go to space. It scares me.”

Browbones furrowed, Red ran gentle circles across his love’s cheek, staying silent as Dust took in a shuddering breath to continue; a quirk Red had grown accustomed to.

“I remember what you told me before,” he said, and his hand came up to desperately hold Red’s to his face, like he might forget it was there if he didn’t make sure. “That you did it because it was better to be somewhere else – anywhere else. Do you want that now? To be somewhere else? Away from me?”

“No,” Red said, and the lack of hesitation in his answer surprised even himself. “I don’t want that.”

Again, Dust’s breath hitched, and he frowned, like the answer wasn’t enough, and, maybe, it wasn’t. His fingers threaded between Red’s, and, when he clutched onto his hand, Red squeezed back, holding him with desperation to match. Dust laughed, a breathless sound. “I’m not the person that you loved.”

Scoffing, Red rolled his eyelights at the notion. “Of course you are.”

“I’m not,” Dust insisted, and something about it was a plea.

“Then,” he breathed, “I love you. This you.”

And, with a breath that was cut off with something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Dust leaned forward – over Red’s body, as if to trap him – and pressed his chest against Red’s. His ribs fluttered with each breath, and Red guided his stuttering breaths with deep inhales that interlocked their ribs with each one. His hand remained stuck to Dust’s cheek, and he squeezed gently, relieved when Dust squeezed back to let him know he was still here; in this reality, not another.

“Breathe,” Red commanded, soft; soft, like he’d been taught. “I’m here.”

Dust took a heaving breath – deep, frantic, like he’d been drowning – and, in a voice that sounded so much like before – reminding Red once more that this was the person he loved, despite the change – he whispered, “Where would you wanna go? If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

The question made him sputter, for a moment. Then, with a breathless laugh, “Seriously?”

“Please,” he pleaded, so what could Red do but answer?

The answer would have been easy before – here; here, just like before – but, despite how they fought against it, things had changed. Did that mean his answer had to change? That his longing had to shift, too? The multiverse was infinite. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Maybe even somewhere that Sans stayed Sans, but would it be the same? Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden – had been ripped from Dust’s grasp with the signature ruthlessness of the multiverse – then why shouldn’t Red be it? Like Dust had been for him, before.

“Think I’d like to stay here,” he hummed. “With you. Still.”

And, this time, Red noticed the way that Dust’s breathing slowed to a stop; felt the way that his magic crackled between his joints; how something wet slipped between their fingers on Dust’s cheek; knew what it meant.

“Okay,” Dust whispered.

“What about you? Where would you go?”

There was a pause – a moment as Dust inhaled once more; held Red’s hand tight, but oh, so gentle – before he managed to answer. “Here,” he said. “With you.”

[guardianofrivendell]

If you do requests, I would love a Fili one! Specifically, his hobbit gf who has short hair tells him she’s going to grow it out so that he can finally put it in braids <33

A/N: this was such a cute request, thank you so much for sending it in (and your patience!)! Hope you like it!

Fíli x fem!hobbit (unnamed) OC

Requested: obviously

Warnings: just lots of teeth rotting fluff I guess?

Word count: 753 words

Always yours

“You’re staring again,” she said without taking her eyes off the page of her book. As handsome and charming as her companion was, the story she was reading was too intriguing and she really wanted to know what the heroine would do next. 

But there came no response to her comment and eventually her curiosity got the best of her. She peeked over the edge of the paper, straight into the bright blue eyes of her intended.

“See? I knew I was right,” she teased with a smile. 

Fíli chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest, making her smile even wider. There truly wasn’t a lovelier sound.

“Such beauty as yours is meant to be admired, ibrizinlêkhê, you cannot fault me for doing so.”

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she resumed her reading, a blush colouring her cheeks at the given praise. Even after months of courting she still wasn’t used to the numerous compliments Fíli showered her with. 

“Your hair’s getting quite long,” Fíli commented as he let his fingers glide through her deep brown curls. “I suppose it’s almost time to cut it again.”

She didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice, even though she knew he’d tried to hide it. She usually let her curls grow until it reached her shoulders, or until it was at ‘proper Hobbit-length’ as she’d always say, before the scissors would appear. Even though Fíli knew hair wasn’t as important to Hobbits as it was to Dwarrows, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness every time his future wife took out the scissors. 

But now it almost brushed her collarbones, the longest it had ever been and Fíli loved it. How the curls danced around her face as she was running around the kitchen, cooking yet another feast, or how they framed her perfectly round face as she was engrossed in one of her books, shielding her from prying eyes. His fingers itched to braid her auburn locks, to take three strands and weave them together, following an all-too-familiar pattern, sealing it with a bead containing his sigil and making her truly his in the eyes of Mahal. But he respected her too much, and the last thing he would want for her was to abandon her own culture. 

“About that…” she began, pulling him out of his thoughts. She went to the heavy wooden chest of drawers, took something out of the top drawer and placed it in his hand with a shy smile. A pair of scissors.

Fíli’s eyes went wide at the suggestion. “You cannot ask me to… I can’t-” 

He loved her with all his heart, she was his whole world without any doubt, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do if she asked him to, but this request was really pushing his limits. 

The Hobbit girl laughed, her giggles like tiny bells in the evening breeze, and she folded her small hands around his large one holding the scissors, closing it with an encouraging squeeze. 

“I don’t want you to use them,” she reassured him, “I want you to keep them, since I have no need for them anymore.”

Fíli stared at her, his features twisted in confusion, before he realised what it meant. He dropped the scissors and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, the book she was reading toppling to the ground but neither of them noticed. As he let go of her, his hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, brushing a strand of hair out of her face with his thumb.  

“I know how important this is to you, and your kin. You’ve done so many things to make me feel at home. So I decided I wanted to grow out my hair, long enough for you to braid it. And I think we’re there, don’t you?”

Fíli positively beamed with happiness, blinking a few times as if he couldn’t believe what had just occurred. He closed the already small distance between them with a small tug, and kissed her hard, a kiss full of passion and promises and want. 

As they separated, both catching their breaths, he took something out of his pocket, and opened his hand, revealing a silver bead. “I’ve carried this with me ever since we started courting, but I never thought... Ibrizinlêkhê, would you do me the honour of letting me braid your hair?”

She smiled, her eyes a little teary at the sheer happiness and nodded.

“Always.”

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