#I Can't Stop Sniffling Someone Save Me

[stupidvillainousposts]

Apologies for the Semi-Late Response, I'm Currently Sick as a Dog and Very Sluggish :')

To answer the questions:

1a. Tate wasn't very happy to find out about the shift in dominance. Not because he feels Ford isn't worthy of it, but because of the process needed to cause that shift. One look at the bite marks on Stan's neck and arm was enough to rile Tate up and make him go off on Ford like a angry bull (and Ford let him because he agreed with everything Tate was saying).

1b. Before the shift, Tate and Ford were fairly amicable. They didn't talk much, and when they did talk it was mainly about weather or some other awkward topic.

2. Wendy felt the same as Tate in regards to her disdain against Ford's use of violence. She ranted about how he should and/or could have done anything else considering Ford KNOWS about Stan's weakened state. Soos started keeping distance from Ford, but didn't really say anything despite it being obvious how upset he was about the fight. Dipper and Mabel, as mentioned, are now afraid of Ford and try to stay out of his way for fear of angering him (weak werewolf pups may or may not be murdered or exiled should the pack leader find them unfit to be suitable heirs).

[manichalseys]

Hey!! How are you?

I wanted to ask, how would the hashiras react if their s/o was pregnant, but I didn't say anything, they find out by chance (like seeing her with shinobu, or someone congratulates them on the baby, and they say "baby?")Thanks!

i'm good! sorry this took me a couple of days <3 my boyfriend works four on, four off and on his weekends we are always busy lol. thank you for the submission!

Hashira + Finding Out Their S/O is Pregnant

characters; giyuu tomioka, obanai iguro, gyomei himejima, kyojuro rengoku, tengen uzui, sanemi shinazugawa

Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu was absolutely exhausted, but was more than happy to sit through dinner with you and a few of your newly named friends. It had taken the water Hashira years to finally give the title to some of his peers and even longer to make space in his life for them like this. So these nights, where you all sat around a table eating, he tried to make time for. Even if he had just been gone for a week and all he wanted was to crawl into bed with his wife.

You were missing two people; Tanjiro and Nezuko were running late, something about preparing before they came? The excuse had been lost to him when Tanjiro's crow explained it but he relayed that it was fine and they were welcome whenever.

Your hand was wrapped around his, grounding him in that way only you can do. He tried his best to listen to the flow of conversation but he only thing he really enjoyed listening to was your laugh at something Tengen joked at.

"Oh, welcome you two! We saved you seats." That gets Giyuu's attention and he notices the two Kamado siblings entering, both boasting wide smiles.

You stand to greet them and he follows suit but rather than take the clearly open seats, each of the children wrap their arms around one of you. Tanjiro glued to Giyuu's waist and Nezuko burying her head in your chest.

You returned the hug happily, Nezuko's affection was nothing new to you; but the pair to your left was a different story.

Tanjiro was... crying? Giyuu was frozen, arms held up at his sides while the younger boy says something blearily through his tears.

"Tanjiro, is everything okay?" He chokes out. "Did someone die?"

Tanjiro sniffles and pulls away, that smile still weirdly in place. "I SAID I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE GONNA BE A DAD."

"Mommy." Nezuko echoes, her head resting on your shoulder - but you stopped listening seconds ago.

No way in hell did he just say that.

The whole room stilled. Preternaturally quiet, everyone present being able to control their breathing down to the marrow had all but stopped. Giyuu was staring at Tanjiro, who was still bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of him, oblivious to the silence of the room.

"I am so excited. You are going to be SUCH a great dad - and I know Y/N is a perfect mother. Do you have names yet? Have you considered Tanjiro?"

Giyuu blinks and says nothing, frozen in that same positon.

"Tanjiro." You snap, not wanting to dim his excitement but not wanting your husband to pass out. This was not how he was supposed to find out. You shoot Misturi a glare and she has the good sense to look sheepish. She must have let it slip.

The younger boy stops and instantly notices the awkwardness in the room, stepping away from Giyuu and running a hand over the back of his neck. "Please tell me that I didn't just announce your pregnancy."

Your husband finally looks at you then, and there was only curiosity where you had expected panic. "Well?" He asks. "Did he?"

You untangle yourself from Nezuko and nod. "This wasn't how I was going to tell you."

He's on you in an instant, arms wrapped around your waist, spinning you in a quick circle. "You're pregnant!?"

You laugh, half shocked and all elated. "Yes, and you just might be the father."

He lowers you and presses a kiss to your mouth, the sounds of your friends cheering in the background falling on dead ears. The fear he thought he would feel when this moment came is a figment of his imagination. He is over the moon. An excitement he didn't know he had in him at the thought of a very real family with you.

"Damn right I am."

Obanai Iguro

Obanai can hear you in the butterfly mansion. He had just returned from a mission, a gash on his side that could due with some tending leading him to seek out Shinobu before returning home to you - no matter how much he just wanted to see you. He knew full well that you would march him right over here if you noticed an injury. Might as well get it over with.

So imagine his surprise when he arrives and can hear your voice from his spot in the hallway, Shinobu's own accompanying it. It must be perfect timing. He can feel the tension in his shoulders ebb as he gets closer to where he knows you are. He can't stand these nights away from you. Ever since you got engaged he had been more and more hesitant to leave you - but his duty always won out. You wouldn't be safe unless there were no demons in the world; so that was exactly what Obanai was going to see to.

"You're just about two months, I would estimate. You may start to show soon." Shinobu's voice filters through the open door of the exam room and Obanai's body stops completely. His breathing and his footsteps halting a few feet away from the door. Had she just said what he thought she did? No. Of course not. You must be here with one of your friends, supporting them through their appointment. That was the most obvious answer.

"So I need to tell him soon." You sound scared and he hates that, but he's currently in the middle of short circuiting.

"I would suggest so, yes. Do you have concerns?"

"I do, but I shouldn't. I'm just scared. But Obanai's amazing - I have no doubt he'll support me. I'm just not sure if this is what he wants." You pause for a moment and the man outside the door still hasn't been able to catch his breath. "Sorry. I shouldn't be complaining."

"You're my friend, Y/N, it's fine. And it's completely understandable to be afraid - but I don't think you have any reason to be."

"You're right-" Your words die in your throat before you can finish because your fiance has appeared in the doorway. His back rigid and eyes wide, locked on your own.

"Your pregnant?"

"I'll give you a moment." Shinobu says, ghosting through the crack in the door and leaving you to your still rigid man.

"Yes." You respond to his question, hands clasping together in front of you, fingers fidgeting nervously. "I was suspicious these last few days, so I came to make sure."

He didn't say anything for a moment and you could feel the anxiety eating a hole in your chest. Maybe you were both wrong and he was most definitely going to freak out. Would he leave you? Being a Hashira keeps him so busy he might not think he has time to be a father. Would you blame him, for not being ready?

"I understand if you're not ready..."

"What?" Is his reply, like he's struggling to catch up. He is. Because along with the fear that he felt trickling down his spine, there was the image of a little girl who looked just like you tumbling around in his head. She was beautiful. And all at once, he was certain.

"I understand if this is too much for you.."

He approaches quickly, arms extended with the wish that you don't finish that thought and never deign to think of it again. Obanai's arms wrap around you tightly and yours go to his waist, hesitant tears springing from your eyes onto his shirt.

"I love you so much. I couldn't be happier." His voice is gruff but it holds nothing but truth and you can feel the insecurity wash out of you. You don't reply, tightening your hold instead and he responds in kind.

This was going to be extraordinary.

Gyomei Himejima

Though he couldn't know for sure, he had the most sneaking suspicion. It came from the forced observance he had with the world. While he was blind, his other senses increased a hundred fold to make up it. His smell was keen, so even if you had thrown up before he had arrived home, he knew. He could physically feel it when you were uncomfortable, which you had been a lot lately. He was almost ready to take you to Shinobu to see if you were falling ill.

But then, Mitsuri happened.

She and Shinobu were the only people in your life that knew you were pregnant. You were planning on telling Gyomei soon. You had no worry that he would be over the moon, you were just still trying to wrap your head around it yourself. You couldn't wait to have a little bundle of joy - a perfect mix of yourself and the man you love. But it was just so jarring; your life changing so rapidly so quickly.

That's why you had agreed to come to this get together. A small party hosted in honor of Shinazugawa's birthday, even though he would proclaim day and night that he didn't believe in birthdays - the group did something every year. You thought it might be good to get out of your head for a bit, and maybe you would work up the courage to pull your husband aside and tell him the happy news.

But Tengen would not back off.

"Why are you being such a killjoy, Y/N? We play this game every birthday party we have. I poured this shot with love, now take it."

"I said no, Tengen. My stomachs upset and I'm not about to tempt fate." You could feel Mitsuri squirming next to you, the urge to say something nearly eating her alive but you prayed that she could keep it together.

The music Hashira leans down closer to the two of you, his brow raising. "I've never known you to back down from a challenge. Take the shot."

"No."

"C'mon, it's just-"

"SHE CAN'T DRINK BECAUSE SHE'S PREGNANT, YOU HEATHEN." Mitsuri explodes and you honestly should have expected it but the record scratching silence in the room is still enough to make you want to bury yourself.

"Oh." Is all Tengen says, straightening and looking properly chastised. "I wouldn't have pushed, had I known. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You wave him off, searching the faces in the room for your husband before realizing that he had already been quickly approaching.

"You're with child?" Gyomei asks when he reaches you, his hands reaching out to encase yours, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Truly?"

You squeeze his hands, everyone else in the room having mostly gone back to business as usual. "Yes. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just couldn't find the right time-"

"Oh, what a miracle!" His below interrupts you, his large frame enveloping yours in a tight hug. "This is amazing news."

You melt into him instantly, head resting contentedly on his chest, his heart hammering out to you. "You think so?"

"Thank you so much for this, Y/N. I cannot wait to go on this journey with you."

If you had any doubts before; you knew for sure now that everything was going to be just perfect.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyo finds you muttering to yourself in the kitchen. Your husband wasn't supposed to return home until the next evening but he had finished his duties early and was incredibly excited to get home and surprise you. When you weren't in the living room when he entered, he decided that maybe he could sneak up on you in whatever room you were in and surprise you even more. So he set off to find you, clutching the dinner he had bought on his way home in his hands and being careful to move silently so he didn't tip you off to his arrival.

"I cannot believe this."

He could hear your voice in the kitchen but didn't hear the sound of pots or the smell of cooking, thank goodness. He had your favorite takeout and he wanted to make sure that you enjoyed it to it's fullest.

"How can I be pregnant? We were so careful."

The fire Hashira stops in his approach. His shadow is darkening the entrance of the kitchen and he can see you inside, reading over some sort of letter. You were muttering some more things to yourself, brows furrowed. Did he just hear what he think he did?

"A baby. We're going to have a baby."

He did. It took him all of five seconds to start moving again.

"WE'RE EXPECTING!?" It was a shout and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he launched himself across the kitchen, sweeping you into his arms and dancing around the small space. "YOU'RE WITH CHILD!?"

Your arms wrap around his neck while he spins you around, a confused laugh escaping your lips. "When did you get home?"

He stops moving for just a moment, those bright eyes trapping yours. "Tell me it's true, my flame. Are we going to have a baby?"

You're floored at his excitement, the pure joy radiating from him. "We are."

His smile grows bigger, if possible, and he's back to spinning you around the room. "What joy! What beauty! My wife is growing me a child!"

"Kyo, I will puke if you keep spinning me."

"Right!'

Tengen Uzui

Tengen didn't mean to snoop, but he was also fully aware that you didn't keep secrets from him. You were an open book, sharing every feeling and opinion and he was the exact same. So he didn't even really feel like he was snooping when he thumbed through the documents you left on the kitchen counter. Just mildly curious while he cleaned the area and he figured he would see if there was anything important.

Turns out there was.

It was a stack of five papers but they were out of order. He didn't really understand what he was looking at until he thumbed to the third one. The first two had detailed some weird symptoms, nausea and cramping. Maybe you had the flu? Or this could be for some sort of training you were doing with Shinobu. You'd made your interest in medicine clear and he was glad that you were perusing it.

But that third page. This one had a heading, where the rest didn't.

Y/N - Diagnosis; Pregnancy, 11 weeks.

He sucks in a breath and realizes instantly that he's made a grave mistake. You're pregnant. He's ecstatic, but also certain that you had some sort of plan for telling him. It wasn't necessarily a surprise, you had both agreed that if you fell pregnant then that was perfect. Whenever it happened for the two of you, it would be celebrated. But he had no doubt that you had some flashy reveal planned, or at the very least a heartfelt conversation.

And he had ruined it by snooping. Shit. Maybe he could just put the papers back and pretend he hadn't seen? No, he wouldn't be able to continue on normally. He was too excited.

"Tengen?"

Double shit.

He looked up at you standing in the door, the small frown on your face tugging at his heart.

"It's not what it looks like. I didn't read all of them so I have no clue that-"

"I'm pregnant?" You ask, hands on your hips. That small frown morphing into an equally sized smile at his stuttering.

"Yes?" He sets the papers down, eyes searching yours for something.

"Well, I am. So you didn't read them very well."

He lets out a bellow and dashes his way towards you, hands cupping your face while he peppers it with kisses.

"We're having a baby!"

"We're having a baby."

"They are going to be the star of the show, just you wait."

"And upstage you? That'll be the day."

"Excuse me. My progeny is capable of anything."

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi knew that something was wrong and it was driving him insane. You had been acting strangely for the last week; zoning off at the weirdest times, acting closed off around him, brushing off any attempts conversation he tried to start about what might be wrong.

You were going to leave him, he was sure of it, and it was breaking his heart a little more every day. Had he done something? Of course he had, but what was it? What had happened that pushed you over that edge? Was there nothing he could do to fix it? Your distance told him that there wasn't, and he was at a genuine loss at what his next move should be.

That's what he was stewing over when he was heading home. His first mission out of town since you had turned on him like the arctic, and he was terrified that he was going to come home to your stuff cleared out. He tried to convince himself that you wouldn't do that, wouldn't throw away everything you'd built without a word - but his insecurities painted a different picture.

He was finishing up at the compound, gathering his things to finally go home when a voice interrupted him.

"I hear congratulations are in order." It was Obanai, standing in the door fame with his arms crossed across his chest. "I can't believe we spent that whole mission together and you didn't say a thing. Didn't peg you as the silent type."

"What the hell are you on about?" Sanemi questions in frustration, throwing his pack over his shoulder. "Are you speaking in riddles?"

"Y/N's pregnant and you haven't said a word about it. Strange of you."

Sanemi's world stops turning abruptly and his pack falls from his shoulder, turning to face his friend.

"Say that again?"

Obanai's eyes widen and he realizes his mistake. "I didn't mean to be the one to tell you... I assumed you already knew and were just keeping it under wraps."

"Say it again, Iguro." The wind Hashira's voice is tight, his heart jack hammering in his chest. Pregnant. You were pregnant. Is that what this ridiculous distance was about?

"Y/N's pregnant." Obanai says, knowing it's best to just obey when his friend gets like this. He goes to apologize again but Sanemi is already gone, a whisper of wind where he was just standing.

He made it home in no time. Thoughts swirling in a million different directions but the one, concrete thing was that he needed to see you. Needed to hear it from you. Needed to touch you.

"Y/N!" He calls when he enters the home and he tracks your response to the bedroom, a pile of folded clothes sitting on the bed before you when he storms in.

"Is everything okay, Nem?"

He pauses for just a moment before he dives in. "You're pregnant." It's a statement, not a question, and you let the shirt clenched in your hands drop to the bed.

"Yes." No point in beating around the bush. You had planned to tell him. Last week, in fact, but you had been so scared. Have maintained that terror the entire week, forcing you to close yourself off from him while you control your emotions. You were so excited at the prospect of starting a family but what if he wasn't? It wasn't something you had discussed yet, though it definitely should have been. The topic had just never been one you broached.

"Is that why you've been so distant?" He asks, and you notice the distance that he's still maintaining from you. The expanse of your bedroom separating you.

"Yes." You step toward him, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "I was going to tell you, I was just so scared-"

"Scared?" He stops you, head tilting to the side. "Of giving birth?"

Your brow furrows and you shake your head. "No, I just... I wasn't sure how you would feel. How you'd react. I was too afraid to find out."

Silences rings through the room for a moment, something flashing over Sanemi's face. You're about to start apologizing but he starts moving, his arms reaching out for you.

You step forward gladly, that firm hold the only thing that can keep you held together.

"I'm sorry that you thought you had anything to fear. I'm here, with you, no matter what."

"I just don't want to trap you into something you don't want."

"Trap me? You're my fiancee. You are everything I could want, and everything that comes with being a pair."

"So, you're not upset?"

"I will only be upset if that baby doesn't look just like you."

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submissions are open

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Good Girl - K.MG

🖐Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x reader 🖐What; Smut, best friends to fuckers/lovers? idk they're besties and they start fucking 🖐Wordcount; 3.8k 🖐Warnings; profanity, spanking, dom gyu, sub reader, a shit ton of petnames omg, dirty talk, pussy slapping, fingering, spit, gyu's giant everything but especially his cock <3, degradation(omg save me), unprotected sex, oral(f), cum eating, praise, squirting

Summary; One minute you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This is entirely dedicated to my darling JiJi @ourdawnishotterthanourday , hope you like it, sweetheart 😇 would not have happened without you 😘 💖

If someone were to ask you how it started, you really could not give them an answer. Even as someone involved, you really don't know how you got to this point. You haven't even had any alcohol, you're completely sober but one minute you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

"That's it, baby, you're being so good for me," Mingyu coos, stopping his borderline harsh spanks to rub a soothing hand over the latest area of impact. All while you're panting and sniffling into the pillow, both hands balled up in the material and mind completely fucking empty. "Are you going to stop talking back now? Going to be my good girl, hm?" You can't even manage to respond, just make some kind of garbled whine in response. Mingyu chuckles lowly and slowly, so fucking slowly leans over you from where he's on his knees behind you. You know he doesn't need to press against you, he's so much fucking bigger than you so he could easily spread over you without pressing his cock against your ass but you feel it and it only makes everything so much worse. He's hard and so fucking big against you. You have never wanted anyone more than you want him in this moment. "Turn your head, baby," Comes his soft encouragement as his right hand moves from the back of your neck to press to the armrest above your head to brace himself, while his left hand slides up from your ass, dragging his heavy touch along the side of your torso and over the back of your shoulder until he can get a grip on your jaw. "Come on," He murmurs, tightening his touch and tugging. You let him turn your face out of the pillow to the side, you can just about make out his smirking features hovering over you. "That's my girl."

"Gyu," You manage, sounding so wrecked already and he hasn't even gotten truly started.

"I know, baby, I know." He hums, adjusting his hold on your jaw to brush his middle finger over the slight opening of your lips. Without thought, you open wider and allow him to slide his finger into your mouth. "Look at you; so ruined already, sweetheart and I haven't even touched you." He chuckles, it's a little mean-sounding, condescending. It makes you whine needily and arch back against him. He licks his lips and presses down on your tongue while rolling his hips against you in return. "That what you want, princess? Want my cock in your desperate little pussy, hm? Bet you're already fucking soaked, huh? Gonna drown my cock, aren't you, baby?" You nod dumbly, eyes fluttering closed as he adjusts his position behind you so that the next harsh grind of his hips has his cock rolling over your clit through the material on both of your bodies. "Fuck, I can feel you, you know? Filthy girl is soaking me through both of our shorts. Are you that desperate for my cock?"

"Gyu," It's not very clear at all, what with his finger still in your mouth and massaging over your tongue teasingly. Not that you care, your head is in the clouds. Actually, your head is so fucking past the clouds you're lightyears away. You really don't care if your attempt at his name is clear, so long as he understands the desperate tone behind it.

He does and lets out another one of those low condescending chuckles. "Is that supposed to be my name?" He teases, leaning down on his left elbow to support his weight without removing his finger from your mouth, in fact, he adds his index finger in beside the first and presses them both down firmly on the muscle. He smirks as he notices the drool spilling from your parted lips onto the pillow under your head. He couldn't see that particular detail from his previous position. It makes his cock jump with interest. "Oh look at you, sweetheart, you're making such a fucking mess from both holes, drooling everywhere." You haven't noticed that he has moved his right hand off the armrest until you feel it at the waistband of your shorts. "Should I take these down, princess?" You nod rapidly and wiggle a little. "Okay, okay," He huffs a laugh and grabs the waistband of both your shorts and panties at once to tug them down your ass and thighs and leave them bunched around your knees.

There's a moment when nothing more happens, Mingyu just watches your face with more restraint than you personally would have in this moment if the roles were reversed. And then, to your genuine surprise, his right hand comes down, right between your thighs. There's a very wet-sounding connection over your pussy and your eyes fly wide as you shriek in shock. It wasn't a very harsh slap at all, more like Mingyu testing the waters as his eyes remain on you. When your eyes dart to him, he smirks and taps against your pussy a few times as his hand is still resting there.

"I knew you'd like that." He taunts. "Filthy little girl likes having her pussy slapped, huh?" To prove his point, he pulls his hand back and brings it down, this time a little closer and harsher, connecting his fingers firmly with your clit and sending a shock of sharp pleasure through your body. You jerk involuntarily and keen while your left hand flails out and grips his wrist by your face to try and ground yourself. He lets you, his smirk growing bigger, cockier.

With every slap against your throbbing pussy, you feel yourself get wetter, dripping out over his hand and down your thighs. The couch is probably getting soaked under you but you're too far gone to give a fuck.

"If I knew you were this much of a little slut, I'd have played with this pussy ages ago," Mingyu mutters when he finally stops his pleasurable attack and instead starts to slide his fingers up and down over your sopping folds. Without warning, the tips of his middle and ring finger catch on your hole before sliding in. You're so fucking wet that he doesn't hesitate to sheath his two fingers in you right down to the knuckles. "Oh, good fucking girl," He groans lowly. "So wet for me, huh, baby, taking my fingers like they're nothing." He works his fingers in you for a moment, just languidly stretching and twisting them without pulling them out. "Think you can take another for me, princess?" You nod, whining a little in need and pushing your hips back against his hand. "Stay still." He warns. "I'll fuck you how I want, you don't get a fucking say in it, understand?" You nod again quickly and fall still to allow him to do whatever he wants. "Good girl."

It's torture, the way Mingyu slowly drags his two fingers right out to the tips to add his index finger to the mix before sliding the three in together. Your eyes flutter close at the pressure, the extra finger adding enough stretch against your hole to make your breath stutter, so you don't notice the way Mingyu's expression turns lax as he feels your walls pressing against his fingers, sucking them in and making him wish he already has his cock buried in your pussy. But he can't. Mingyu knows he's big, borderline ridiculously big, honestly, so he can't rush this. Needs to get you all stretched and ready before he buries his thick cock in you and fills you with his cum.

So Mingyu slowly works you open on three fingers, moving at such a pace both to be careful and to tease you. He can feel you sporadically squeezing down around his fingers and your hips twitching with the urge to move and force him to speed up, but you stay still.

You're being so fucking good for him, such a good fucking girl that he can't keep it up for as long as he initially planned. You've entirely soaked his hand and don't seem to have any issue at all when he slightly spreads his fingers inside you so he figures you're ready.

When the two fingers in your mouth start to retreat, you panic and open your eyes while gripping his wrist tighter to pull him back. Mingyu watches slack-jawed as you suck his fingers back in with a moan, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing slightly. "Fuck, baby, bet you'd love my cock in that dirty mouth right now, wouldn't you?" You blink at him, eyes so glazed and heavy giving away how truly gone you are. He groans a little. Minutely you shake your head. "No? No what?" You suck on his fingers a little harder, reminding him of his own words. "Oh, you don't want my cock in this hole?" He presses down on your tongue harshly making you moan. "Where do you want it then, sweetheart? Gonna tell me where you want my cock?" You don't speak, you can't, even if his fingers weren't filling your mouth, you're already too fucked out to speak but you have enough control over the rest of your body. Mingyu swears colourfully when you squeeze your pussy around his fingers, clamping down in answer to his question. "You want my cock in your pussy, huh?" He abruptly pulls his fingers from your mouth and starts to straighten up. "You're gonna fucking get it, princess."

Having his hand moving so suddenly away from your face has you panicking naturally, not quite sure what's going on in your fuzzy headspace so you yelp and grip his wrist to try and keep him near to you. Keep you grounded.

Mingyu pauses his retreat and leans over to kiss your head. "It's okay, baby, I'm not leaving. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?" You blink when he pulls back enough to peer at you and meet your gaze. "Is that okay, sweetheart? Your Gyu is going to fill you up, hm?" The way you blink at him is so cute and innocent that he can't help but smile softly at you and lean back in to press a kiss to your temple. "Give me your hand, princess," He encourages, trying to wiggle his wrist from your hold without upsetting you. Slowly, you release your grip and let him take your hand into his. "Good girl."

Mingyu places one more little kiss, on the apple of your cheek this time, before he's straightening up to his full height on his knees behind you while carefully manoeuvring your left arm backwards in a way that won't hurt. He watches your response as he presses the back of your hand to your lower back, you don't react and just let him do it while your fingers wiggle a little until his palm is against yours and you can wrap your fingers around his hand. It's cute, he thinks, how you're searching for the comfort of his hold right now when he's about to fuck you until you forget your own name.

His attention turns down to where his fingers are still buried in you, not moving but still there. The little fond smile immediately slips off of his face at the sight of your pussy stretching around his fingers. "Fuck," He whispers lowly and adjusts his position a little to get a better view as he slowly drags his fingers out. He licks his lips then lifts his hand to his mouth to lap at your flavour coating his skin. A low moan rumbles from his chest. "Gonna eat this pussy later, once I've filled you up, gonna make you cum all over my tongue, baby."

With his hand still mostly wet, he reaches down to shove his shorts and boxers down enough to free his cock. You feel it against the bare skin of your ass, he feels so hot and heavy and you want him in you so fucking much. You squeeze down against nothing and Mingyu notices, watching the way more slick dribbles out of your constricting hole.

"Fuck, baby, you're desperate for something in this dripping pussy, huh," He taunts, voice low as he places his hand over the bottom of your ass, in the perfect place that he can pull you open for his eyes and slip his thumb into you. You whimper a little, it's nowhere near what you need. Mingyu chuckles as he feels you trying to clamp down around his thumb and get more friction. "Oh, baby, that's not going to work." He coos and pulls against your walls slightly to spread your hole.

Nobody has ever done that to you before. It feels kind of degrading but you find that you're not opposed. You push back against him. Instantly, he pulls his hand back and then brings it down to connect with the swell of your bare asscheek hard enough to immediately leave a red mark. You shriek and flail a little, though push right back against his touch.

Mingyu laughs mockingly. "Such a desperate little slut, all for me huh?" He grips his cock and directs it to thunk the head against your clit making your hips jerk as you whine. "Bet you'd let me do whatever the fuck I want to you, right, baby? So long as you get this cock in your pussy," As if proving a point, he spits, right on your pussy where his cock is teasing you. You moan making him laugh again. Though this time he sounds more pleased than teasing. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy ruining you tonight, baby, and then tomorrow, I'm going to do it all over again. Gonna keep fucking you until you can't take a fucking step without thinking of my cock."

And then he starts to push his length into you. He doesn't rush it but he's not going slow. It feels both too fast and too slow as his thick cock gradually splits you open, bigger than his fingers enough that you still feel every fucking inch of him.

When his hips are flush against your ass, Mingyu stops there with his eyes closed tight enough to crinkle his brows, head dropped down and mouth open wide while he tries to ground himself. You feel so fucking good wrapped around his cock. All hot and wet and tight in the best way. It's driving him fucking crazy. He knows he will not last long at all.

You're not faring much better yourself either. You've never orgasmed from penetration alone but you feel so fucking close right now that it genuinely wouldn't surprise you if you do cum the second he moves.

"You okay, baby?" Mingyu asks carefully after almost a full minute of breathing his climax away. He soothes his right hand over your hip and up to your waist then back down to hold you again, his thumb running over your heated skin gently. It takes you a few seconds to hum in confirmation and nod a little. Mingyu smiles at the sight of your closed eyes and open mouth. You look so blissed out and he hasn't even fucked you, hasn't even made you cum yet. He knows you're going to look fucking beautiful cumming on his cock. "Are you ready for me to move?" You respond quicker this time, a desperate tinge to the nod making him laugh softly, amused and fond. "Okay, baby, brace against the armrest for me, hm?" Blindly, you remove your right hand from the pillow to reach the few inches above you and press your palm flat to the armrest. "That's my good girl." He praises then slowly starts to pull his hips back. It's half to tease and half for him to check that the slightest bit of friction on his cock isn't going to make him bust then and there. It doesn't, but he can feel the pressure gathering all the same in his body so he knows he's going to cum very very soon.

So when Mingyu thrusts back into you, it's hard and quick and he doesn't stop there. Immediately he's drawing his hips back and repeating the action with low moans. And all you can do is gasp and moan and try to grip his hand and the armrest for dear life as he fucks into you almost animalistically. Like there's only one thing on his mind and he doesn't give a fuck if he bruises you to get it. Honestly, you don't care either, you'd probably even welcome the marks on your skin. But you can't think of that right now, can't think of anything but his cock pummelling your walls and dragging rapidly across all the most deliciously sensitive spots inside of you.

"Fuck," He manages to choke out as he feels you getting tighter and tighter, it makes his own orgasm rush closer to the surface. "Baby, cum, fucking cum right fucking now." He demands roughly, leaning forward enough that he can reach around with his right hand. All it takes is a little harsh tap on your clit and you clamp down.

The orgasm hits you so powerfully that you almost scream his name as you gush around his length. Mingyu head tips back while he groans deeply with his eyes closed and presses his hips tight up against you, emptying into you with your walls pulsating around his cock to draw every drop of cum out.

For a handful of minutes, you both just try to catch your breath, Mingyu still pressed up against you and face tilted back to the ceiling, mouth open and chest finally no longer heaving so desperately. With his lungs no longer screaming for oxygen, Mingyu dops his head forward and opens his eyes to look down at you. For a second, he thinks you've fallen asleep, your face is slack, eyes closed and mouth parted a little, but when he draws his hips back to let his soft length slip out of you, you wince showing that you're still awake.

"Did so good for me, sweetheart." He hums, sitting back on his heels and gently lets go of your hand. You let him and allow your arm to flop back down to your side, too sated and exhausted to care about the ache in your shoulder and elbow. Mingyu's hands both run over the backs of your thighs and your ass as he watches his cum trickle out of your hole. "So good," He breathes out then grips your ass to spread you open for him to lean in and lick up the mix of your arousal leaking from your hole. You squeak in surprise and jerk. "Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, let Gyu lean you up, hm? I told you I want to eat your pussy after I've filled you."

Honestly, if you weren't so fucked dumb, you'd probably push him away due to sensitivity but you can't really move and his tongue is surprisingly gentle considering how rough he fucked you. So you just sigh softly and remain as still as you can when every pass of his tongue over your clit makes your hips twitch.

"Mm, good, good girl, just like that, that's my girl." He encourages you in between licks and kisses against your heated, sensitive skin. "Just a little more, hm," You hum vaguely in response, agreeing if you're not entirely sure what you're agreeing to. There's probably very little you wouldn't agree to where Mingyu is concerned. You just never expected him to find that out.

Just like he opened you up, Mingyu takes his time and goes slow and steady as he licks and slurps at you, even when he slides a finger in you to tease his cum out, he's in no rush.

It doesn't really register in your mind just how good it feels, you're moaning softly, yes but you don't really register that either. It's kind of soothing, his meticulous thorough actions. And then he's swallowed down the last of his cum and his finger is joined by another and he's curling them downwards. Brushing over your g-spot and making you gasp with every pass.

Suddenly, you realise how tight that ball in your lower belly has gotten and the pressure building even lower. You want to warn him but you can't speak. Mingyu's now rubbing against that very specific spot of your walls, still slow and gentle about it, but with enough pressure and insistence that you're being pulled towards another powerful orgasm. It already feels so different from the first, like it's in your whole body, but just as powerful.

"Gyu," You manage the first word you've spoken in what feels like fucking hours. Just a broken soft little gasp of his name. It makes him moan against you, the vibrations travelling through his lips pressed against your clit and sending you over. The orgasm hits you a second before you feel that pressure burst. Mingyu moans louder than you as you squirt over his face and hand before he's desperately trying to swallow every drop of it down.

As much as Mingyu would happily dedicate his life to eating your pussy, he can tell you really aren't able to handle that right now, so when he's sure your orgasm has ebbed, he gently removes his fingers from you. He takes another couple of seconds to pass his tongue over you and slurp up the last drops he can, then leans back.

It's clear you both need a shower, or a bath, something but also that you are incapable of doing either. Sure, Mingyu could physically hold you up safely in the water, at least normally he'd be able to but right now? You're not the only one with weakened thighs from a toe-curling orgasm. He's very certain he hasn't cum that hard in a long time.

Carefully, Mingyu tugs your panties and shorts back up onto your hips and then fixes his own clothes before he shuffles back enough to give you space when he tugs your thighs out. You flop rather ungracefully stomach down onto the couch making him chuckle softly before he crawls over and nudges you onto your right side with your back to the back of the couch. "Hey, baby," He greets softly, laying down on his left and tucking his arm under your head so you're resting on his bicep and his head is on his own hand when he bends his arm back to himself. He winds his right arm around your waist and places a kiss on your head. "You're already mostly there, but let's nap, hm, sweetheart? And when we wake, we'll get some food and talk. But now, sleep." You softly grunt in response, a sleepy confirmation of words that don't even register. He chuckles and presses another kiss to your head before closing his eyes, more than ready to get some much-needed sleep.

A/N- I just...idek what to say about this, this is very different to my usual style, jumping right into porn and the degradation? like??? gonna go question my sanity let me know what you think & reblog if you liked it!

[frostedsugarcookiehearts]

₂ i swear, next time i see you i'll be funny

memphis, tennessee. the road sign just appeared out of schlatt's peripheral vision, though he wasn't paying much attention. his hands were gripped tight on the steering wheel as the radio blabbered on about how tomorrow, december fourteenth 2022, a lady named cheryl would be winning a lifetime supply of chuck-e cheese tickets.

"can you shut the fuck up?" schlatt barked, slamming his hand into the console. not a great idea, he knew that— but there wasn't much else he could do. he was going as fast as he could without going 100mph, but that wasn't fast enough.

schlatt was a man with vices. whiskey, mostly, and snacking before bed. but his biggest vice was you, anything you asked— everything was thrown out the window. it'd come to bite him in the ass more than once, but anything for you. and he meant it when he said it.

so when you called, frantic and sobbing, all he had to say was:

"i'll be right there."

even though he was in the middle of a chuckle sandwich shoot, he had to run. ted even let him borrow his toyota tocoma (an honor which he rarely bestowed on anyone), but he knew it was an emergency. and notably, a sixteen hour drive. he drove all throughout the night, not even taking a second to breathe or blink as he made his way to tennessee.

eventually, the old truck made its way past the border of tennessee and into memphis. after a few illegal right turns, he made his way to your apartment. it was small. and it didn't take a genius to see it was also in an awful neighborhood, hell— he could hear police sirens echoing in the background.

which was fucking weird, because you had just shown the chuckle crew a photo of your new high rise you were going to purchase. it had looked nice as hell, eliciting an "ooh" from charlie, ted and even himself. and he was a man rarely impressed.

the whole apartment shook when schlatt knocked on the door, frantic. his huge, strong hands helped him out for once— besides opening jars of peanut butter and jelly or opening locks that were jammed. "hey, open the door!" no response, but he could hear little sobs and whines inside. he took a step back, bracing himself before jamming his elbow into the door, busting it wide open.

you were curled up in a blanket, sniffling and crying as you stared off into space.

in seconds, you were in his arms. your tears soaked his shirt, but he had hundreds of the same one— it didn't matter to him. his voice was hesitant, trying to soothe you. "hey, hey, sugar. nono, don't cry— don't—"

hysterical, you choked on your sobs and hugged him tight. "i'm sorry you came all this way, i didn't mean to bother you, i just—"

"no, fuck, baby. you're not botherin' me. i wanted to come, so i did. ya didn't ruin nothin', alright? cross my heart. pinky swear, whatever or whoever ya want me to swear it on, i do."

heavy, shaky breaths again. "but the drive here takes forever, a—and weren't you filiming a chuckle episode? gosh, don't tell me you left that early, jay..." you took a sharp inhale, voice wobbling. "my heart's beating real, really fast." you stammer.

"'kay toots, you're gonna listen to me now, alright? deep breaths. you can do it, know you can."

your eyes met his, and it felt like someone ripped his heart in half. "you can't just throw everything away to take care of me. what if one day you can't come save me?" you ask, voice quiet as a mouse.

schlatt shook his head, not even giving him a second to think about it. "i always will be," he insists.

"but, i—i am afraid i'll spend entire years— trying..." you stammer, getting all choked up again. "...trying not to need you."

"you don't need to worry about that." he assured you, his voice low and baritone.

and schlatt held you the whole way through. the entire night, coaxing you to stop crying, to at least have some water and have a bite to eat. he brought you hot cocoa with marshmallows and sat next to you on the couch in silence, until you drifted off to sleep.

the austin chronicle on november nineteenth, 2025, had their horoscope section on the second page, tucked into the bottom right corner. today, your horoscope said that old memories would come to light. you laughed and threw out the newspaper before glancing in your doorway to see a random stranger standing there, boxers low on his hips.

resisting the urge to rub your temples, you politely made conversation with the man (a hookup you'd already forgotten the name of, add him to the list.)

the door slammed.

you sighed, groaning and rubbing your eyes. another fucking morning. idly, you made yourself eggs and glanced over at the television. some person was crying to the reporter about a car crash that had happened. unfortunate, you mused. those kinds of stories used to make you cry just as hard as the person it had actually happened to, but now, you seemed impartial to it. just another thing in the walk of life, you supposed.

scrolling through your instagram feed, you got a message from one of your friends about going out tonight. why not, right? it's not like you had better shit to do. (you didn't.)

and in what felt like a blink to you, there were loud, flashing lights that felt like they were pounding in your head. but you didn't want to be the party pooper loser of the night and go home, you needed this, so you downed a few shots with your friends until you eventually loosened up.

your friends burst into loud, shrill shrieks. "ohmygosh!" one of them tugged on your arm, pointing across the club to—

fuck.

schlatt was standing right there, tall and broad as ever, dressed in a black turtleneck with a brown jacket thrown over it. he looked distinguished, and eerily out of place. in the same city as you. and partying in an outfit that looked like it belonged to a stuffy college professor more than your old friend jay who you hadn't spoken to in... jeez, it must've been three years now since you'd ran off from memphis, moved thousands of miles away, went no contact, and started anew. schlatt called so often, frantically worrying about your absence, that you had to change your number.

he met your gaze, and he immediately moved. it made your face blanch as he weaved his way through the crowd easily, not caring if he'd pushed someone or interrupted a makeout session.

"you." he breathed heavily, eyes wide.

a man of few words. your friends, perplexed at the fact he knew you (they had just seen one of his youtube videos once),

"big man!" you put on a big, fake smile like you were thrilled to see him. well, it's not like you weren't. just taken aback, you supposed. "guess one of us had to look better than before, and we all know it's not me." your friends burst into giggles at your self-depricating joke, your smile faltering a little. "you grew a little. how's new york, huh?"

"uh... good." schlatt's eyes were wide, and he opened his mouth to say something, but bit his lip. "good."

[nathaslosthershit]

The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

[thevoidstaredback]

Every man has his breaking point. Danny's is just a bit higher than everyone else's because he's a king and has a high tolerance for absolute bull shit. No matter how strong that bar is, though, one can only bend so far before snapping.

Unfortunately for everyone around him, Danny has reached his breaking point.

"I wish I could get drunk," he stared into his drink longingly, "Or high. But mostly drunk."

"Why do ya say that?" Billy asked, tilting his head curiously to the left.

Danny sighed, "It's a long story."

"I've got time." he shrugged.

"Are ya sure?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "You don't think any emergencies are gonna crop up? Nothing you'll need to go take care of?"

Billy backed off a little, folding into his seat. "What're you talking about? I'm just some kid on the street. I ain't going anywhere."

Danny rolled his head from side to side. "Mostly, I'm talking about the JL meeting the both of us are gonna skip out on tonight."

"What-?"

"C'mon, Captain, it won't do to talk here," he stood, picking up his coffee and waiting for Billy to do the same.

Billy's eyes narrowed as he looked Danny up and down. "I don't recognise you," he whispered, "Who are you."

Danny produced another calling card from his sleeve as he sipped his drink, holding it in front of himself but not handing it over. When Billy was looking at it, he flipped it over. The white background turned matte black, all the runes in the Ouroboros turning so white that they glowed. The DP in the very middle tinted blue, pulsing with toxic green energy, slightly cold to the touch. The edges started to frost over.

Quickly, Billy pulled the card Danny had given him before from the inner pocket of his jacket. It, too, had changed to match the one Danny held, though there was no longer a DP in the middle. Instead, it said 'Phantom' in fancy calligraphy.

"No way," the kid muttered, his expression awestruck, "Phantom? That's you? No shit?"

Danny chuckled, tucking the card away again, "No shit, kid. Don't tell anyone, though. You're the only one who knows."

"Really?" he squeaked.

"Really."

***

Having someone know his whole story was refreshing, just as he's sure Billy felt good to have someone know his, too. That didn't stop him from feeling bad about dumping it all on the poor kid.

"I still wish I could get drunk," Phantom lamented."

Constantine looked up from the book he was reading. "You can't get drunk?"

"Nope."

"How'd ya figure that one out, kid?"

"Please don't call me a kid."

That's not good. The blond marked the page before setting the book to the side. Phantom had never actually asked him to stop calling him a kid. "What's wrong?" He didn't normally do the whole 'feelings' things, but the was an exception.

Phantom sighed long and sad. He didn't look up from the carpet. "I told you they were going to ask invasive questions."

"Who was it?" It was more of a demand then a question.

"Red Robin,"

"Red- I thought you would've skipped town when we were done there? I sure as hell did."

"I know you did, but I decided to stick around for a bit. Wander, y'know? Red Robin caught up to me and would leave me alone."

Oh, oh no. Those were tears. Were they? Yeah, shit, they are! John is not equipped to handle this!

Phantom sniffled. "He asked me how I died."

Fuck.

John Constantine is not easy to anger. Sure, he gets tired, and irritated, and a whole slew of emotions, but he is very slow to anger.

Phantom, he knows, is not a child. The ghost can very much take care of himself in basically every way one could think of. He saved the world on his own, several times, when he was fourteen. He became a King and Protector when he was fourteen. He died when he was fourteen.

Right now, all he could see was the child who hadn't ever been properly laid to rest. It was hard not to call Phantom a child when he seemed so small, seeking comfort from anyone. Phantom was crying. He'd retreated to the House and locked himself in Constantine's room, only talking when he was ready to, but he'd waited to cry.

Phantom didn't like crying. Every person in the JLD knew this.

No. John Constantine is not quick to anger, but he is scary when he reaches that point. Batman might be the night and vengeance and all that shit, but John Constantine was wrathful.

He sat beside Phantom and let the ghost lean into him and cry. He didn't like dealing with feelings, but this was a child in need of comfort and he was the only one around to offer it. "Do you really want me to stop calling you 'kid'?"

A sniffle and a small head shake. "No."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"...sure."

"How old are you really? As a ghost, not as a human or a halfa. How old are you?"

"Fourteen." he mumbled, "I'll never be any older than fourteen, John," he was getting a bit hysterical now, "I'll never be any older than fourteen! I-I died and-and now I have to rule and-and people keep asking and no one believes me and-!" A sob cut him off, heavy with grief and wet with tears. He cried for hours, giving up on trying to form words. Constantine let him, ignoring the wet patches on his shirt. Eventually, Phantom's sobs died down into hiccups. "I didn't...I'm- I'm sorry."

"It's alright, mate," he meant it, really and truly.

Phantom rubbed his eyes, "I'm gonna go hide somewhere."

"Not gonna share where?"

"No, I want to be alone for a while." He paused at the door, "Whatever you're gonna do, will you leave Captain Marvel out of it?"

Odd request, but, "Alright," he nodded, "I'll talk to the others." And by 'talk', he means lecture. There are boundaries that one shouldn't cross, and not asking the dead how they died should've been obvious! With his League issued communicator, John called an emergency meeting in one hour, required attendance, barring Captain Marvel. First things first, though, he needed to talk to Deadman.

Part 7 Storyboard

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[heartfullofleeches]

What if someone from "Sheep"'s old pack came back around and tried to expose them, maybe for joy in suffering or to get people to split away and have an easy meal?

Sorry if this read weird I'm tired as hell

(I doubt any of them would recognize "Sheep" after all these years, but here's what would happen if any predator tried to reveal "Sheep's" identity.")

[Warnings Physical Violence, "Sheep" has a panic attack.]

-

"How stupid can you lot be?"

No...This isn't real. It's all a bad dream, right? You'll wake up any minute now, surrounded by all your friends and neighbors you've yet to acquaint yourself with. Perhaps you'll finally join Rabbit on one of their picnics. Or maybe Swan can teach you how to play chess - surely he must be tired of you asking which piece is which every time you play.

Claws digging into the meat of your shoulders stake you within the world of this cruel reality. This isn't a dream. You can't wake up, even if you chewed your own tongue off and suffocated on the blood as every cell in your body screamed at you to do. It would save you the torment. Your mouth hangs open, ragged draws of air and the smooth, filed surface of your canines preventing you from carrying out the deed.

"A sheep? This thing?" The cackle he barks causes your knees to curl against your chest - body instinctively trying to make you as small as possible. What do you have to be do afraid of? If you weren't so spineless you could've done something by now. Everyone is going to die now, and they'll die hating you.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we grew up from the same pack!"

It won't be long now- the concern for their fellow neighbor bleeding away to further terror and confusion. Were you responsible for the recent disappearances? How long until you devoured everyone? Monster. Beast. Wolf.

The townspeople are in a frenzy. What should they do? If the wolf's claims are true.... No- That could be dealt with that. The most important thing was getting you away from him before he hurt you anymore. They're so many of them. It'd be easy, right? The thought crosses their minds, but no one dares to speak first. A rabbit grows annoyed of their hesitance. Whilst the town is bickering amongst themselves, you're laying there - cowering for your life as that wolf threatens to ruin it for you. It isn't fair. The knife in their basket was for cutting cakes for you to share...

"Liar....."

As the rabbit weaves through the crowd, another resident of the town returns home from her daily gatherings. Rocks weight the pockets of her dress - the shouts and panic from her fellow neighbors channeling miles throughout the forest. Scrambling to find the sharpest one, she throws it directly at the back of the wolf's head.

"You damned liar!"

The wolf staggers forward - a pitiful whine escaping you as his claws retract from your shoulder. Blood gushes from the back of his cranium, a sharp ringing in his ears bring him to his knees - landing center on the blade aimed at his stomach.

"About a week ago, Sheep and I found a robin's nest in my backyard.... They got all teary eyed when the last egg wouldn't hatch... Tell me.... Would a wolf do that?"

Rabbit plants their foot on the wolf's chest, twisting the handle of their knife as they rip it from his bowels. The wolf grabs into their ankle, using what little strength he has to shove them off of him. Mouse leaps onto him from behind, slamming another rock into the nape of his neck.

"Take it back! Take it back! Sheep isn't anything like you! How dare you accuse them! You monster!"

Stop....

Your voice is too quiet for any of them to hear. You doubt that'd stop them anyway. They'll kill him. He came here to do the same, but does that make it right? Strong arms lift you from the dirt floor - mindful of their antlers as they place your head to their shoulder. Mayor Moose always knew you best - hushing your sniffles as soon as they begin. Swan stands off to the side behind him, refusing to meet your eyes. He tucks the coat of his suit over the handgun strapped to his belt.

"I'm sorry..... I'm so sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Swan still fails to look up at you. He knows if he does- there's the smallest chance he'll give into your pleads.

"Get some rest. You'll need it after the day you've had."

Carried away from the commotion, the defenses your fellow townspeople confess, the blood they spill so that your innocent is kept - the blood loss and sheer shock of it all lulls you into a dreamless slumber.

It's the best sleep you've gotten in months.

[wnbnny]

we can't be friends - l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining, did i mention angst, reader is kinda depressed, like two kisses ig

status: delivered !

word count: 4.0k

author's note: aaaa omd it's finally done >< reblogs + likes are appreciated!!

lee minho. your muse, your life, your heart.

he broke your heart one stormy sunday night and you hated him as you watched him leave with tears in both of your eyes.

granted, he did break your heart for your own good, to save you from the dangers of being with him. but you didn't care, not when he was your universe, your world. you would gladly take a bullet for him.

just as he would take a bullet for you.

minho knew leaving would break you, just as much as it would break him, but he needed to do it. life as an idol was already dangerous enough with all the death threats and saesangs, but the moment 'fans' caught even the slightest whiff of you they would hunt you down and hurt you, and minho simply couldn't let that happen. he knew you wouldn't care about all the danger as long as you were with him, but he did. minho would never forgive himself if something happened to you all because he had given in to his innermost wants and kept you by his side.

so he left.

november 8th, 2019, 8.46 pm.

"i want to break up." he said, one sunday night. the rain was pouring outside, flashes of thunder and lightning ringing through the sky occasionally. in the quiet and comfort of your shared apartment, with the dim glow of lamps illuminating your features, in that moment, for a split second, minho wanted to stay. he wanted to pretend everything was alright, to have you stay by his side and be happy together, but he knew he shouldn't. the two of you were eating dinner, sitting at the small round dining table in your kitchen tucking into your homemade kimchi stew. god, he would miss your kimchi stew, he thought miserably. 

"what?" your world felt like it had stopped, your hand frozen in place as you slowly tilted your head to look at your boyfriend sitting across from you.

"i... want to break up." he repeated robotically.

"minho, where is this coming from? did i do something wrong? please... just talk to me," you begged, panic starting to flood your mind as tears threatened to spill over. you couldn't believe what he had just said. the both of you had been perfectly fine before, the both of you were happy, why was he doing this? were you not good enough for him? did he fall in love with someone else? the thought alone made you weak.

"i just... it's for the best. i'm putting you in danger every day, fans will hurt you if they find out i'm with you. i can't let that happen."

"i don't care if they try to hurt me, minho. as long as i'm with you, it’s- " you reached for his hand, and could feel your heart finally sinking to the bottom as you saw his face, screwed into an expression of hurt and resignation as he shook his head.

"just... don't forget me in the future, okay?" before you could say anything, minho was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and his phone, already reaching for the front door.

"wait! minho-" you jumped out of your seat in alarm and desperation, clinging to his arm as he looked back at you with a pained expression. 

"please- we can work this out, just don't leave me," you pleaded, tears already cascading down your face. you must've looked a pathetic mess in that moment, sniffling and sobbing, yet minho still thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist as he memorised your face for one last time.

finally, minho turned around, cupping your face in his hands. your hands reached up to hold his, as he memorised your every detail for the last time. minho's lips found their way to your forehead, then the corner of your eyes, then your lips as he kissed you tenderly for the last time as you sobbed in his arms.  

"i'm sorry." he whispered, before pushing you back as you cried out and stumbled backwards, opening the door, walking out of the apartment and out of your life.

december 25th, 2019, 11.28 pm. 

your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that cafe shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it? 

it's christmas now. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wore your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you. 

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i still love you.

january 7th, 2020, 2.35 pm.

you strolled down the busy streets of seoul, a long oversized fluffy coat resting on your shoulders and your nose pink from the cold. a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally stepped foot into the cozy ambience of a random cafe alongside the road, the warm air blowing gently at you helping to relieve the coldness settling into your bones. ordering a latte and a small cake which were promptly delivered to your table, you settled down to scroll through the news.

new technology developed, scientists say new machinery can effectively target and erase memories of specific people and objects. is now being offered at multiple mental health clinics nationwide at a low cost, guaranteed 90% success rate. for sign-ups and further information, please contact...

you raised your eyebrows at the news, marvelling slightly at how advanced technology seemed to be developing at this rate. thinking nothing of it, you simply continued scrolling.

january 7th, 2020, 12.02 pm.

you sighed as you flopped onto your bed, tired from a day of work and countless emails sent. feeling a warm, soft head poke it's way under your arm, you smiled softly, hand reaching out to scratch doongie's head as he meowed in content. smiling softly, you felt two large lumps jump onto your bed and settle on you, soongie choosing to settle on your feet and dori choosing to burrow his way under you arm as you giggled. 

"soongie, you're so heavy," you laughing light-heartedly as your oldest cat let out a 'meow' of indignation at your words. 

minho would love the cats so much...

your smile drooped, feeling that warm familiar sensation pricking at your eyes again. 

god, how stupid. it had been two months already and you were still hung up on him. everywhere you went, you saw his face, on advertisments at the bus stop, billboards in the shopping districts, to even advertisments on youtube, and every single time your old memories with minho would surface and you would miss him again.

memories...

oh. the news of the memory erasure experiment.

would it hurt to try? you tried imagining forgetting minho. for him to just be another face on the billboard, a random k-pop idol to you. to forget you had ever even loved him and forget that he ever loved you. the pain would be gone. your heart would no longer ache each day, you would no longer think of him and he would no longer cloud your mind.

picking up your phone, your finger hovered above the 'call' button.

"hello? this is the seoul medical psychiatry clinic speaking. how may i help you?"

"i..." you paused, gnawing at your bottom lip.

"i would like to make an appointment."

january 19th, 2020, 1.28 pm.

"welcome! do you have a booked appointment?" the receptionist greeted cheerfully as you stepped into the reception and seating area of the clinic, a large box full of items in your hands. the hallways were filled with posters and quotes, the beanbags and seats painted in warm and soothing colours. 

"yes, doctor kim at 1.35pm." you answered, watching as the receptionist typed a few words into her computer.

"ah yes, under the name yoon y/n, right?" she clicked her tongue, "for... memory erasure?" she glanced at you with a look full of sympathy, as if you were some lost wounded puppy. 

"yes." you confirmed, lips pursing together slightly as you stared down at the box.

"good, and you've got your box of items already. do double check to make sure they are linked to that specific person only, we wouldn't want any erasure of other memories woth different people."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"yeah, i have." 

"great, we'll be calling for you later, the doctor will run you through the procedure and then the operation will commence. take a seat first," she gestured to the seating area. not long after, you heard your name.

"yoon y/n?" 

you hurriedly stood up, making your way towards the nurse and following her into the operation room. the operation room was white and cold, lacking any warmth and colour, filled with odd looking machinery and lab coats and tools. you were sat down on a chair, and your box of items given to the nurse who began taking them out one by one while another nurse attached a few wires to your skin to a machine on the right which measured your heart rate, a steady thump-thump-thump. the first nurse began to place your items in a row, scanning each one under a machine.

beep.

minho's green hoodie.

beep.

the snow globe the both of you had bought together at a winter festival.

beep.

polariods of you and him.

beep.

a cat plushie you had gifted him in celebration of his lastest comeback before he had left.

beep.

matching mugs the two of you had bought.

minho. everything, everywhere, everyone reminded you of minho. it felt like you were drowning, consumed by him.

"alright, i'll be placing the device on your head. the device will take you through individual memories of the person, but you will have to re-experience certain bigger core memories again as those take a longer time to process. if at any point should you feel distressed or want to stop, please press the red button beside you, and should you want to restore your memories we will reload them back into your brain. however, if you choose not to restore the memories, we will automatically delete them after 30 days." the doctor explained, showing you a strange contraption with two pulse points connecting to either side of your temple.

beside you, the heart rate measured by the machine started beeping faster.

you nodded. 

the cold, tingly terminals of the device connected with either side of your temples, the unfamiliar feeling odd and alienating. 

then all turned black.

"min! look, they have matching mugs! we should get them," you pointed excitedly to two mugs at a stall in a summer fair you and minho had just happened to pass by. you watched as your old self pointed to the mugs happily, "the world's best boyfriend" and "the world's best girlfriend" written on each mug respectively. "that's so cheesy," minho said, a grin on his face as he pulled you close to him by your waist. well, the old minho in your memories. it felt like a punch in the gut yet the cure to your pain as you stared at his face again in your re-lived memory, his oh-so-familar grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "yeah, but it's cute!" you exclaimed, turning to face minho. "pleaseeee," you begged, lips downturned in a pout and your eyes shining hopefully as you tugged on his arm. "fine," minho groans, eventually giving in into your request, feigning annoyace by rolling his eyes yet still smiling at your delighted expression. 

god, you missed him so much.

the memory shifted, warping into another blurry picture.

this time, it was another memory that faded in, a memory of you and him sitting in the living room unwrapping your christmas presents. minho tore open his box eagerly, laughing as he held up a green hoodie from his favorite brand gifted to him by you, coupled with some other things like perfume and a brand new wallet. "oops... might've gifted you an accidental matching hoodie by accident," he smiled sheepishly, as you opened your present, some jewelry with . "a red hoodie! now we can match," you snickered, pulling the soft hoodie over your head and slipping it on. "hey, we look like the christmas colours!" you laughed, pouncing on him and tackling him down to make him wear his one as he whined in protest. eventually you did managed to get him to put it on and pose for some pictures, albeit him being disgruntled but still giving in to you anyways.

a tear trickled down your face, landing on your lap as your hands on the chair tightened, gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles started turning white.

the memory started to fade away.

"min! the new comeback was so good, i watched the music video just now," you exclaimed, bounding up to him the moment he opened the front door to your shared apartment. "thanks baby," he smiled, leaning in for a quick peck but suddenly finding a soft plushie being thrust into his hands. it was a plush of a brown and white striped cat, soft to the touch and extremely squishable. "what's this for?" he raised eyebrow, cocking his head in confusion as he stared at you. "it's to celebrate your comeback, I figured i'd give you something to cuddle when i'm not around you," you smiled, "i named the cat mr sprinkles." "who names a plush toy mr sprinkles?" minho laughs, watching as you huff at him about how the name was cute and he was being mean. "thank you though, i appreciate it," he kissed you softly, smiling at the small act of love.

no, stop-

you started to whimper and thrash around.

fade to black again.

"min, look," minho turned to you as you were admiring the ornaments at a booth, the both of you coming across a christmas market and deciding to explore it. "it's a snow globe of us," you pointed out to a small snow globe, with a man and women as figurines in the center of the snow globe and fake snow swirling in the water around them. "it does look like us, doesn't it?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you subconsciously leaned into him. "we should get it," he suggested, smiling at how your eyes lit up and how you pressed a kiss to his cheek. the two of you purchased the item, and then bought some hot chocolate to sip on to relieve the cold setting into your bones. "jagi-ah," minho called, prompting you to look up at him before gasping in surprise. the first snow of the season. "you know, they say the person you witness the first snow with will be with you for a long, long time." minho grinned, leaning down to kiss you tenderly before intertwining your hands. 

you didn't want to forget him, you realized, as you gasped for air, heartbeat skyrocketing as you tried to open your mouth to scream. no, you would never want to forget minho. you would rather cling onto those memories and deal with the pain forever than never having remembered him.

the memory faded.

you gasped in surprise as you ripped open the box, holding up a brand-new, shiny polariod camera wrapped in a gift box, its paper shreds used to cushion the camera hapazardly strewn about the floor.  minho watched you with a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling as he happily obliged to any pose you wanted to do with him, groaning half-heartedly but still laughing at the silly faces you made.

the memory started to fade again.

"STOP!" your finger found the red button, desperately pressing it in an attempt to get the machine to start working. all of a sudden, you were jolted back into your consciousness in the middle of the white sterile room again, heaving and gasping for air as you tried to adjust back to the surroundings. 

"are you okay? do you need to stop the operation?" the nurse asked, a concerned look on her face. beside you, the machine was beeping, a erratic rhythm.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

your hand reached up to fiddle with your necklace, looking left and right. you swallowed, a lump in your throat.

"yes."

----------

you stumbled out the clinic, hands clutching onto the box of items tightly as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun. 

hands shaking, you pulled out your phone.

'my love,' the contact at the top of the screen read. you hadn't called him in months, ever since he had broken up with you. you has tried for a few weeks, but day after day of missed calls was heartbreaking.

you pressed the button.

one ring.

two rings.

three rings.

four rings...

"hello?"

a voice you hadn't heard for months. a voice you had only been hearing in your dreams.

"minho-" a strangled sob left your lips.

"please." you could only force out a choked plea, tears falling rapidly, stumbling onto a nearby bench. people started at you as they walked by, a woman breaking down in a random street in seoul oddly disconcerting.

"where are you? i'll come get you." the moment you heard the concern laced in his voice, your eyes brimmed with more unshed tears, stifling a sob that threatened to escape. in the background, you could hear the sound of things being knocked over, presumably minho rushing to get to you.

you told him your location in between shaky breaths, occasional hiccups interrupting your sentence. 

"just wait for me, ok? don't move anywhere," minho firmly instructed, voice soft and calming.

a few minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found.

he would hate you for this, you realized. you didn't deserve him. he tried so hard to keep you safe, and how did you repay him? by almost erasing all memories of him. the thought of it just broke your heart even more, for if he knew what you had tried to do he would never want to have anything to do with you again.

"y/n!" you heard a voice yell, whipping around only to see minho running to you at full speed.  you had never been more glad to see him, your knees instantly buckling as you collapsed into his arms, crying into the crook of his neck as you clutched onto him like a lifeline. 

you didn't think you would ever get used to this feeling, you thought. his touch, warmth, his gentle strokes of your hair and whispered sweet nothings were like music to your ears, his hand coming up to rest on your back and his other coming up to gently stroke your hair as he swayed you back and forth. he had clearly just ran from dance practice, you realized, slightly sweaty and panting ever so slightly. 

"what's wrong, jagi?" he murmured, soft brown eyes searching your own red and teary ones.

"i- i didn't want to remember you because it was too painful, and then i tried to erase my memories of you, but i realized i didn't want to and i really, really, really fucking miss you and it hurts-" your rambling was cut off by a hiccup, lips quivering as you stared back into his eyes.

here comes the part where he realizes your a disgusting bitch and hates you forever, you thought miserably.

"shh, it's ok," minho pulled you closer, engulfing you in his warmth as his hand rose up to cup your cheek.

what?

he was supposed to hate you, not do... this. you literally tried to erase all memories of him, he should be angry and offended, so why...?

nonetheless, you would take what you could get in what you assumed to be your last moments with him, so instead you leaned into his touch, memorising his every detail again. his soft brown eyes framed with delicate lashes, sharp nose and jawline, the pink rosy tint to his cheeks as the winter wind whipped around you.

"i'm sorry," you begged, "just don't hate me."

"i never did, silly." minho laughed softly, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"but you left me." you said, confused.

"i left you because i loved you. it was just for your own safety, i didn't care about anything else," minho explained, brows furrowing slightly.

oh.

minho stumbled backwards as you crashed into him with a force, nearly knocking him over as you crashed your lips onto his, hands threading through his soft silky hair and teeth knocking against his. it was a heated, messy kiss, teeth clashing and tears streaming down your face, yet minho didn't seem to mind as he deepened the kiss with a fervour, all seeming to pour out of him, pain and regret, relief and want. it is only when you seperate with a gasping breath of air that you finally see his swollen, reddened lips.

“i’ll figure something out, i’ll talk to the company, make a statement or something- i won’t let anyone get to you, i promise,” he rambled, a giddy smile on his face. right now, minho could care less about the repercussions, even if he had to move mountains just to be by your side and keep you safe at the same time. 

you giggled, an infectious laugh bubbling out of you. the both of you, crying in the middle of a street, hands intertwined and both a mess, yet you had never been happier with the person you truly loved. 

“we'll be alright now.” you whispered. it wasn’t just a statement but a promise, one to keep forever.

december 25th, 2020, 1.43 pm.

“min! come look!” you squealed in delight, eyes lighting up when you were finally done. minho glanced over, and sure enough, you were up to mischief again, the three cats dressed in ugly christmas sweaters with cartoonish designs on them and matching hats on their heads. doongie let out a ‘meow’ of indignation, protesting as minho roared with laughter to scoop him and his fellow cats up. laughter bubbling out of your lips, you quickly grabbed your phone to take a picture of minho and the three cats, his face lighting up in amusement as he watched them try to squirm out of his grasp. 

“i love you, you know that?” minho says that night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch with the cats, watching your favourite seasonal christmas movies together and snacking on popcorn.

“i don’t say it enough, partly because i’m not good at expressing myself, but i love you. your smile and personality and everything. just thought you should know.” the tips of his ears are red as he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

you smile, a red tint blossoming across your cheeks as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“i love you too min.” 

how did you ever get so lucky? you think, leaning in to rest your head on minho’s shoulder as you resumed watching the movie, one hand absentmindedly scratching dori’s head as he purrs in contentment. here, in the dim light of the cozy apartment with minho, love heavy in the air around you two and christmas lights twinkling merrily, you think you have everything you have ever wanted in life.

after all, it didn't really matter where you were, as long as minho was by your side.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild @dandelions-143 @rylea08 @linocz @minseongsworld @realrintaro @kkamismon12 @felinows @baribaaari

[6okuto-moved]

gn!reader | iwaizumi will do a lot of things if you ask, but he's always a little awkward and embarrassed about taking photos of himself. what angle does he use, why's the lighting so bad, this is his "no one will see me" t-shirt, does his smile look forced, etc, etc., which means you only ask every once and a while, mostly as a joke, and never mind when he brushes it off with a laugh.

so when you open your messages to see an unprompted selfie of him, blurry, sitting in dim light, cheeks flushed and biting his lip to stop a grin, shocked is one word you can use to describe yourself. apparently drunk hajime is different from sober hajime, and confident enough to send a second, third photo capturing his night out with his old teammates at karaoke.

and you're not sure if it was their idea or his, but you really can't bring yourself to complain when he accidentally sends a video instead of a photo that perfectly frames his slightly unbuttoned top, messy hair that he runs his fingers through (he's brought up needing a haircut every week for the past month, but keeps pushing off setting an appointment), and raspy laugh as he tells someone off screen to shut up and sing already before turning to you with a smile.

"oh, shit, it's a video."

"pft, are you really that drunk?"

"hiii," someone—you think tooru—singsongs your name.

another complains, his voice muffled by your boyfriend moving the camera, "ugh, can you move over?"

"hi babe." hajime's low, slurred voice brings your attention back to him. "i got 94 on m'last song, jus' so y'know.

"let it go! that was all luck—"

"shut up, it's not my fault y'got 67 and sound like a dying bird. ugh," he seems to lose his train of thought and sniffles. "uh...don't worry, issei's driving m'back. i'll tell you 'bout it when i get home. see you soon, alright? love you."

the video ends, cutting off the beginning of a voice crack and off-pitch note, and the responding cackle that momentarily fills the quiet of your living room.

it's not a hard decision to save everything he's sent to your phone. the real hard decision will be tomorrow, you think, when you have to decide between teasing him to death or helping with his hangover. but then you get another notification—another text from him that reads "Cany ou tell them i'm not gonna sing adell" and you smile.

you can probably do both.

(he does end up singing, but so does everyone else. the video you get is way too loud, and way too close to the microphone, and the phone falls to the floor at some point, but it's saved to your gallery anyway. he makes you promise not to play it the next morning because it's "so headache inducing he could explode.")

[httpssturns]

♫ 001. ochos rios . . . m.s

⋆.˚ 𓅆 Never Enough Writing Marathon ⋆.˚࿐

cw: arguing, begging, Matt lowkey being pathetic lol, manipulation, toxic, haha yeah!! main masterlist for more fanfic reads! 💙

The tension between you and Matt has recently been at an all-time high. And not the good tension, the angry kind. Like the two of you are seconds from snapping.

All you had done was simply ask him to move out of your way so that you could get by, and he moved, yes, but not without an additude.

“Like you aren't always in the way anyway..” He huffs, moving out of your way like you’re some parasite.

“Matt, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You snap, your body rigid and tight as you turn to him with a scowl.

“That means, you never know when to just quit. You're always pretending everything's perfect. Can't you be real?” Matt spits, his hands balled into fists out of pure frustration. This thought has clearly been going on for a while.

“Matt.. I have no idea what you're talking about.” You murmur quietly, stepping closer to him only to watch him back away.

“No! You don't get to pull that bullshit! You know exactly what I mean. You always pretend. You pretend like you don't work for hours and then come home when it's midnight.” Matt places his curled hand into his heart.

“You pretend like you don't just give me scraps of you, when you give everyone else your everything!” He shouts, his voice raising and cracking with hurt.

“Matt, I'm just trying to get through life! I'm always there for you, I'm always caring for you, always. And it's just not enough for you! I'm not enough, I never have been.” You steam, throwing your hands up in the air.

“Not fucking true at all! You're never there.”

“I’m always there! You just don't get your head out of your ass long enough to see it!”

“Just stop! Just stop. Stop victimizing yourself! I've had enough of it!”

“i’m not victimizing myself! I just want to be enough for you!”

“Well, maybe you're not!” 

Those four words do it.

Your lip starts to tremble, hot tears beginning to spill from your eyes and leaving behind glistening tear tracks. Your body begins to tremble, Maybe you're not. Maybe you're not enough for him. You've never been enough for him.

Matt’s eyes widen, immediately stepping close to you. You can see it in his eyes—he regretted saying it as soon as it slipped out of his mouth. That doesn't make the hurt any less awful.

As he tries to console you, you back away, pushing him away with blubbering sobs.

“I’m sorry, please baby—please I'm sorry.” he pleads, his hand catching your wrist, only for you to pry it off.

“No! Matt—go away! Go away..get away!” You yell between hiccuping sobs, your body trembling with every spasm of your chest.

“Baby—fuck I'm so sorry- please don't push me away, I need you. I need you so much please don't go.” Matt croaks, his eyes welling with desperate, salty tears.

“Leave me alone Matt—just fucking go! I've never been enough for you, find someone who is..” At those words Matt breaks into a sob, falling into his knees with a small ‘thump’

 “baby no—don't make me go, I need you.. I need—you. You've always been more than enough for me. You saved me—you found me.. I can't go without you..” He chokes out through loud cries, clinging to your leg like a baby.

He knows he's pathetic for this. He knows it, but that isn't going to stop him from begging anyway. If begging you is what it takes, he’ll do it. He can't lose you.

You sniffle, tears dripping from your eyes onto his soft, brown hair. “..why would you say that to me?”

Matt straightens up immediately, looking more desperate than ever to explain himself. “I—I don't know.. it was stupid and untrue—i’m stupid. Fuck baby.. I never meant to hurt you. You're my saving grace. My everything!”

Your lip quivers, heart still feeling like it was made of barbells instead of flesh and blood.

“I’m mad at you.” you murmur quietly.

“I know baby.. I know. Be mad at me, please. Stay mad at me. Just don't leave.” he whispers quietly, kissing your calf and muttering quiet apologies against your skin.

“I’m so sorry baby.. I'm so sorry” 

Dividers by @cursed-carmine !!!

☆ soph's notes: day 1 of my album marathon!! I'm so so excited for this and whoever reading ily and you mean so so much to me 💙

P.s: this sucks but oh well I hope I'm just criticing myself too hard.

proofread by @viviansturns, ilysm <3

[staysdelulus]

hihiii your fics are actually amazing 😭 idk if ur still actively doing any but can u pls do a skz imagine when they're in the middle of getting down and dirty with the reader & the reader suddenly tells them that it hurts

Definitely did not see this a whole 4 months later- But here you go!

Stray Kids Imagine (MDNI) Member will not be named (up to the reader's imagination); member will be referred to by "he" or "him".

Warnings: fem!reader, skz!bf, degrading, rough, oral (fem!receiving), fluff

Asks are open!! I'm back online :)

Word Count: 1973

--

"Babe."

You hadn't been paying attention, not really. It wasn't your fault, bundled up in his hoodie, crocheting while watching complications of your boyfriend on stage.

"Hey," you whisper, smiling softly, a yawn escaping your lips. He smiled back at you, moving closer to gently grab your yarn, putting it aside.

"Y/n," he says quietly, suddenly looking serious. "I've been thinking, you know. About us. I just... I wanted to know if you were saving yourself. For marriage, or-"

He breaks off, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as your own tinged pink with surprise. Giggling softly, you shake your head. "Oh, no, no. I just... I wasn't sure... I mean, I've never done anything before, so... you know."

He just nods, his eyes thoughtful before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I know, baby. I love you, yeah? I won't do anything you don't want to do."

And he kept his promise. Just like he always did. That night was your first time, losing your virginity to the man you loved most. Stretching our your walls, legs wrapping around his torso desperately as soft cries spilled from your lips.

You were... exquisite. Someone he loved more than life itself.

--

And then came the trip. You had told yourself you would be fine. It was just a week, for some promotion or something. A few days to relax in the city, attend the event, and come back. He had promised to text and call you, to send pictures of everything he knew you would love. To buy and shower you with gifts.

He had done just that, spending hours on the phone with you, even if it was in the middle of the night for him. It didn't matter as long as it was with you.

Everything with him was great. To put it bluntly, nevertheless embarrassing... the sex was great. Fuck. His fingers, the way they easily curled deep into you, the way his teeth would nip at your skin. It wasn't hard to feel that familiar ache in your core, that familiar wetness pooling in your panties.

To him, you were the embodiment of purity. Innocence.

And tonight... It was the night before he would come back. Still quite early at 9:00PM. You had retired to bed early, ready to wake up at the first light of dawn and greet him at the door. After all, you were sure fans would be mobbing the airport.

But as you sniffled, your body trembling with a sudden- sudden need, you couldn't stop yourself. The pillow you were hugging shifted between your legs, your hips moving softly as your teeth tugged at your lower lip.

You whimper, gasping at the thrill of pleasure that runs through you, when-

"SURPRISE!"

You gasp, eyes flying open and fixing on the door. He was back early. As your eyes caught his, his own darkened, a mixture of emotions suddenly flashing through his face.

He immediately strided over, grabbing the pillow and tossing to the floor as he snarled softly. "Y/n. What the fuck are you doing?"

Your lips tremble at his words, eyes wide. "I was- I missed- I just-"

He doesn't let you continue, though, his words sharp as he snaps. "Fuck, Y/n. I'm supposed to be the one who gives you pleasure, babe. You can't- You don't get to touch yourself like this, Y/n. You don't get to seek out pleasure without me. I'm the only one who gets to see you like this, the only one who gets to make you feel like this. Do you understand me?"

You only nod meekly, but he's not done. Far from it. "I came home early to surprise you. To worship you, to love you, to fucking devour you. And instead, I find you here, touching what's MINE. Touching yourself like some cheap little slut."

As you swallow back a cry, his eyes narrow, his tone deadly soft. "I should punish you for this. I should put you over my knee and spank you until you can't sit right for a week."

He had never been rough like this before. Never even hoped to suggest it. But now? He was too far in. His hands find your shorts, pulling them off before tearing apart your panties, your core slick and sheened with the need to be pleasured.

He grabs you, bending you over his knee, his own cock throbbing in his jeans."Fuck, look at you," he snarled, his voice rough with a mixture of anger and lust. "So fucking wet, so desperate for it. You really are just a needy little slut, aren't you?"

You cry out as he smacks you, tears blurring your vision as his words wash over you. A mixture of shame and need. Slap after slap, your bottom growing redder with each second.

"Count them," he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding. "Count each one, like the good little slut you are. Let me know how many times you need to be punished for touching what's mine."

His hand came down again, and he growled out the words, his voice dripping with a dark, twisted lust.

"This is what you get for being a greedy, disobedient little whore. This is what happens when you try to take your pleasure without me."

"Please, s-stop," you cry out, your eyes blurred. But he doesn't, continuing his relentless assault before turning you onto the bed.

As your back presses against the cool sheets, he spreads your thighs, pushing your legs up to reveal your core, open and pulsing, waiting for him.

"Fuck, look at this greedy cunt," he snarled, his voice rough and ragged with lust. "So fucking wet and ready. You really are just a set of holes for me to use as I please."

He buried his face between your legs before you could respond, his mouth latching onto your sex like a man starved. He sucked and licked and devoured you with a ferocity that stole your breath, his tongue delving deep into your folds to taste your essence.

He fucked you with his tongue, plunging it in and out of your clenching channel as he sucked hard on your clit, growling against your sensitive flesh. His hands gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he held you open, keeping you spread wide and exposed for his oral assault.

As he pleasured you, he ground his denim-clad erection against the bed, the hard ridge of his cock throbbing and twitching with each desperate buck of his hips. It was clear how turned on he was, how much punishing and dominating you aroused him.

Your hands curled in his hair, trying to tug him off as you cried. He only growled, nipping at your inner thigh hard before continuing to eat you out. But when you tug again, he snaps.

"BAD GIRL!" he roared, his eyes blazing with anger. "Did I say you could stop? Did I say you could pull me away?"

He released one of your wrists to grip your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheek hard enough to bruise. He forced your head to the side, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat, attacking it with sharp, stinging bites.

"You don't get to tell me no," he growled against your skin, his voice rough and menacing. "You don't get to pull me away when I'm punishing you. I decide when this is over, not you."

To emphasize his point, he bit down hard on the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. His other hand slid down your body, grip your hip hard enough to leave finger-shaped marks.

"This is your punishment," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "This is what you get for being a disobedient little slut. You're going to take it, every last second of it, until I'm satisfied."

He frees his length, cock springing as his pants lay on the ground. As he pushes into you, you whimper. "H-Hurts- [H/n], it h-hurts-"

Sobs tear from your throat, growing louder with each passing second. Tears spilling down your face. For the first time, you felt the need to use it. "R-Red, [H/n], red- red! Red!"

He pulls away immediately, eyes wide. "Baby, Y/n- What-"

As you cry, body curling in on yourself, he feels his heart sink. Of course. Of course you scared her, you fucking- bastard. She's barely had an experience and here you are calling her a slut.

He stays quiet for a moment before speaking. "Can I hold you, baby? It's okay if you don't-"

His voice cracks slightly, the pain of the guilt weighing on his heart heavily. When you nod, sniffling, back to him, he gently wraps his own body around you, holding you loosely so you didn't feel suffocated. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. Okay? I need you to know that. I did NOT mean to hurt you in any way with my body or my words."

He holds you, letting you turn to him as you cry into his chest. "H-Hurts," you manage to repeat.

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Y/n. Tell me where it hurts? Please? Let me fix it. Let me make it better," he whispers.

His heart sinks further as you point to your chest. Your heart. The marks he had left, down there. He kisses each of those places, ready to pull away if you needed him to.

As your trembling body slowly stops quivering, he gently rolls you on your back. "Is this okay, baby?"

You nod, your eyes wide. "Just wanted you to be g-gentle. Just-"

As your breath hitches, breaking off slightly, he presses a kiss to your lips. "Shh, baby. I'll be slow, yeah? So slow. And you tell me if you need me to stop. Tell me to stop, and I'll stop immediately."

And with that, he enters you again. Slowly. Inch by inch. Waiting for you to nod, to say yes. To tell him you wanted him to continue. As his hips rocked slowly, thrusting in deep and pulling out all the way before burying himself there again.

He talks you through it, his voice rough with emotion. "Fuck, Y/n. You're beautiful, yeah? You feel so amazing, you feel like- like- fuck. Feel it, baby? Feel the way I'm burying myself in you, yeah? Feel the way your walls are clenching me, hm? So tight. So perfect, babe. Like you were fucking made for me."

With each word, you only let out louder cries. Louder moans. Climbing closer and closer to the edge. Encouraged, his hand delves down between your legs, thumb rubbing your clit furiously.

"Come for me, Y/n," he breathes, words raspy in his throat. "Fuck, Y/n-"

You come. Hard.

He continues to fuck himself deep into you, chasing his own release as he cries out. "Fuck- Y/n- Good girl- Shit-"

You squirt at his words. And he comes right there.

Without another word, he collapses besides you, gathering you in his arms. He lets you catch your breath, his own chest heaving. And when your legs stop trembling, he scoops you into his arms, bringing you into the bathroom.

He cleans you up that night, his touch gentle. Towels soft as he dries you off, dressing you in his clothes. "Get some rest, baby. I'll be here as you fall asleep, and I'll be here when you wake up, yeah?"

"I love you," you mumble sleepily, eyes drooping from exhaustion.

He chuckles, kissing you gently. "I love you, Y/n."

"Mm," you whisper. "And maybe we'll try out those other kinks of yours."

He gasps softly, eyes wide as you finally succumb to sleep. Well, fuck me, Y/n.

--

A/n: So sorry it took SO, SO long for me to do this ask, thank you for your patience :D <33

[morganwrites12672]

You Don't Have to Be Okay

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam has trouble coping with his nightmares. She helps him.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: This made me cry while writing. Enjoy!

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It was gradual.

She noticed how tired Sam was all of the time. She blamed it on the usual stress of hunting. After a few months she begins to notice how it's every single time she sees him. It's almost like he never has the chance to sleep.

She mentions it to Dean, who tells her that Sam's handling things just fine. She doesn't agree.

During a hunt that Sam was doing with her, she noticed the nightmares. She would ask him about it the next day, or offer to grab coffee whenever he woke up in a cold sweat. The results were the same every single time. He would brush off her concern, just like Dean had.

She was a light sleeper, an occupational hazard. It was the last night at the piece of shit hotel with Sam. She awoke to the sound of mumbling and someone thrashing around. Her hand went to the hilt of the knife hidden between the bed and the dresser. Once her weapon was safely in her hands she flicked on the lamp.

Her eyes scanned the room. It had just been Sam. She sighed, dropping the knife on the little dresser. She stood and sat on the edge of Sam's bed. She didn't want to wake him but the pained mumbles slipping past his lips, and his horrified expression made her.

She was careful, knowing he would be frightened and disoriented whenever he woke up. She shook his shoulders, making sure to be ready for whenever he would wake up. He sat up, looking like he had seen a ghost. She gently grabbed his wrists whenever his fists went flying.

He blinked a few times, realizing where he was. And who he had almost punched.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Shit," He quickly apologized. His expression still held the same horrified look. It broke her heart to see him like this.

She gave him a soft smile and let go of his wrists. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to fix all of the pieces sticking in every direction. She was patient, letting him wake up a bit more. She wouldn't start prying whenever he was this disoriented.

"It's okay," She said, placing a hand on his knee.

"No, it's not!" Sam replied, visibly distraught. He could have punched her. All for trying to help him.

"Is it about Jess?" She blurted. She wanted to help. Maybe if he talked about it, maybe she could help him. Seeing him suffer like this was painful. It hurt seeing such a close friend in pain.

Her father was a hunter too. She had grown up around the Winchester boys. She had always been good friends with both of, especially Sam. The two were close, well, as close as they could be with the lifestyle they led.

". . . Yeah, it is," Sam replied softly, looking down at his hands. He could not bring himself to meet her gaze. Not with the way he felt tears stinging his eyes. He didn't want her to see him like this.

"I'm here, and I'll listen. I'll do whatever you need me to do," She said.

Sam sniffled. He finally moved his gaze from his hands and looked at her as a tear finally spilled down his cheek. He didn't understand why she cared so much. Sure, they were friends. He didn't feel like he deserved this though.

"You can't bring her back. You can't stop her from getting burned on the god-damn ceiling just because I left her."

His words made her do a double take. She had known that his girlfriend's death had been horrific, and had involved a fire. She hadn't realized just how truly horrible it had been.

"No, I can't. But, I can help you," She said softly, brushing a tear off his cheek.

She wrapped her arms around him. He shuddered under her touch. He was too exhausted, in more than one way. He couldn't resist the comfort of her arms. He buried his head in her neck and let the tears fall.

She might not be able to save Jess from the horrible fate she had met, but she could help Sam. The poor boy needed it. The nightmares might only be about Jess, and that horrible night, but the scars hunting left on him went deeper than his skin. He felt them branded into his soul. Horrible memories waiting to punish him again.

He was more sensitive than Dean and his father. He never truly got over those things. He thought about them all of the time. It was like he couldn't escape. Walking down the street he would see someone who reminded him of a person he couldn't save. It was always something.

Maybe she really could help.

He clung to her even tighter, grateful for her silent comfort. Once the tears dried up, and he felt like he would never be able to cry again, he pulled away. He awkwardly rubbed at his tear stained cheeks.

"Thank you," He said softly, hating how weak his voice sounded.

"You don't need to thank me."

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A/N: Thank you for much for reading! My requests are currently open. Please leave a comment and reblog!

[luveline]

your spencer writing is so beautiful jadey! i was wondering if we could get some hurt comfort where reader really struggles after a case and he comforts her? <3

thank you ♡

Grief for other people can vary in strength. Ever present, occasionally numbing, tonight's case has left you neck deep in it, and the feeling needs to come out. Tears slink down your face in lazy rivers. You keep thinking you'll stop crying. Then you remember her hand, soft with newness and curled in death, and it starts again. 

It hurts to cry. You don't attempt to stop; you don't think about it, or the team, or the heat at your side, you just think about the girl's hand. It's not fair. It's too much. 

"It's okay," Spencer says. You know it's him without looking, his voice a familiar gentleness that reaches your ears despite the roaring-quiet nothing and your sniffles. 

You turn your face away from him to hide. 

He puts his hand on your thigh amicably, his tone encouraging as he continues, "If you don't calm down you'll throw up. What can I do?" 

You suck in a shaky breath, an attempt to regulate feelings too big for one body, "Sorry, it's– I'm fine. I'll be fine," you wobble. You can't finish the second fine, a cry crushing it down. 

Another hand touches you, fingers on your wrist and weaving down. He covers the back of your hand with his palm. It's not like Spencer, but it's not like you to cry like this. 

Spencer doesn't tell you to stop crying or try to shush you. He'd told you once that he tries not to stop people when they're talking, because he knows what it feels like to be shut up. I wish people… I wish people would have more patience, I think. Sometimes I can't get things out the way others want me to, and I get that things are time sensitive, but. I don't know. If I have time to listen, I'll listen. 

Listen to you cry, listen to your staggering breaths as you catch them. Patient, Spencer pulls your hand to his lap and draws letters into your wrist. You can't make out what he's writing, but you can feel the bumps and curves of Os and Ks. Maybe he's telling you it's okay, maybe he's writing out a recipe. Whatever it is, it calms you down. 

"Do you want some water?" he asks as you still. He sounds pitying, sure, but he understands. His thumb rubs down to the middle of your hand. 

"Yeah. Please." 

He passes you a plastic bottle of water with the seal already broken. You have the wherewithal, then, to see where you are. The conference room is dark, and your teammates have given you the chance to cry alone, though they'd sent Spencer in to keep you company, it seems. You can see Morgan waiting out by the door like your bodyguard, and you're sure you can hear Hotch shouting. Or, not shouting, he doesn't yell much, but his voice is loud and terse. He cannot be argued with. 

"I'm sorry you got the short straw." 

Spencer puts an arm behind your back. "Actually, I had to fight Emily to be the one who gets to sit with you. And I can't fight, so it was more like begging." 

He rubs your back. You forget that he's a man, sometimes, but you can feel the ridges of his arm, smell the woody scent of his deodorant as it stretches around you in a half hug. His awkwardness with women doesn't extend to his friends at any rate, and he hugs you with surety. 

"You're one of my favourite people. I'm sorry you didn't know that. Holding your hand when you cry isn't a short straw," he says. 

You lean into his shoulder. He murmurs a quiet, "Come here," as you do, his jaw pressed tight to your forehead. 

"I'm so sorry," you say. To him and to someone else. 

"It's okay. It's not your fault. You can't save everyone." He sounds near choking up with his last sentence. It's a grim and undeniable truth. No matter how hard any of you try, there will be impossible cases with twisting riddles for motivation and terror that fills every corner. There will be young girls who die, because there will always be someone waiting to hurt them. 

"I tried–" You bite your cheek until it screams at you to stop. 

"I know. There was nothing else we could do." 

You turn into him completely, wrapping your arms around his waist in a vice. Spencer doesn't baulk, circling your shoulders, his breath tickling your ear where you squish your face against the collar of his sweater. The fabric bites your skin, a wicked heat returning to line your lashes. 

Your back shakes under Spencer's hand.

"I know," he repeats, rubbing your back. "It's okay, Y/N, I promise. He can't hurt anyone else, ever again." 

It doesn't make the crime any better. It won't bring back the girl you lost. And it can't erase the agony of knowing you failed her. 

Spencer starts to talk. Simple facts, explaining grief. When we cry, it releases oxytocin. You feel better afterwards because of the chemical effects. 

When you eventually do calm down, head pounding and chest aching, Spencer helps you clean the tear stains from your cheeks with a pocket pack of tissues, and you know it isn't the oxytocin that made you feel better, just a really caring man. 

"Thank you for dealing with me. I know this wasn't even the worst thing we've seen, but I–" You clear your throat, determined not to cry anymore tears until you're back home. "I couldn't stop seeing her hand. I can't remember my hand being that small anymore." 

Spencer gives you a smile. It's far from happy, a flat line with the slightest curve at the corners. "Some things are hard to forget. And we shouldn't forget them. But we have to keep going so we can balance it out. Or at least that's what I think." 

You hug him quickly. "Thanks, Spence." 

His hand twitches against the small of your back. 

[invisible-lint]

Before and After: Nightmares

Lucien x Archeron!Reader

Summary: the first in a series of drabbles before and after you went into the cauldron

Warnings: angst. angstier than I intended oops

Word Count: 1.2K

You grab a knife off a fae distracted by what Amarantha is doing to your twin. You are not one of them. She can't stop you. You may not be able to kill her, but you will not let Feyre go down alone. You stalk forward, ready to try, prepared to die with her, when warm arms circle around your body. "Don't," Lucien whispers. Your gasp of indignation shifts to a scream of rage and horror when Feyre's neck snaps, the cruel fae queen finally done torturing her. You scream, not noticing as the masks fall off the faces of the spring court fae. You scream and scream, thrashing against him, trying to get loose, the knife still gripped in your hand as Lucien holds you. You scream until your throat is raw and you can't scream anymore. And then suddenly through some miracle performed by the high lords, she's alive again. Changed. Fae. But alive. And you sob, your body going limp, the knife clattering to the stone floor. You sob and Lucien continues to hold you.

You’re not sure what it was that woke you, the air, suddenly cold from the blankets being thrown back, or Lucien calling your name. You swing at him wildly, perceiving him as a threat in your sleep-addled terror. He grabs your hand, holding it until you’re awake enough for clarity to come across your features. He crawls into bed with you, pulling you into his arms as you start crying. He presses soft kisses to the top of your head, whispering reassurances into your hair, his hand against the small of your back. He holds you like this, waiting for you to be ready to tell him what this nightmare had been about. You had them more often than not. Sometimes, about your own experiences Under the Mountain, but more often, you relived Feyre’s death. Terrified by how powerless you were to stop it, how utterly powerless you would be to prevent anything else from happening to her.  Lucien just holds you, knowing that you’ll tell him what it was about when you’re ready. 

“I was back Under the Mountain. Watching Feyre die.” He looks at you, brushing hair back from your face. “I’ll never be able to save her, will I? I couldn’t then and now… Now the thing that is hurting her is not something I can take a knife and try to kill. The aftermath…. It is suffocating her. She is drowning and there is nothing that I can do. What are you supposed to do when you so desperately want to save someone you love and can’t?”

He looks at you momentarily, trying to find the words that will comfort you. How can he, when he feels the same way about you and your mortality? Every day is like a ticking clock drawing closer to the moment when he will lose you, and no matter how much he may know it’s coming, he knows he will never be prepared.  

“I don’t know… I wish I did…” His voice is so soft, that with your human ears, you almost don’t hear him. You nod, making a sound that’s half sniffle, half sigh. 

“Will you stay with me?” You ask, voice soft as tiredness begins to creep back over you.

“Of course. Always.”

"You'd truly neutralize the cauldron? Aren't you at all curious about what it can do? How it can help you? Save your human twin, doomed to die before you?" You hear the king speak as his guards drag you in, fear bright in your eyes. You look to Feyre, to the family you've found in the night court and you could weep at the state of them. You hold your chin high, hoping to radiate bravery you don't feel as Feyre begs. You don't fight, you don't make a scene as the guards drag you to the large cauldron in the center of the room. You bite back your scream as they lower you in, the inky water so cold it's painful. And you don't fight as you're submerged, floating, suspended in a space much larger than what the cauldron should hold. The icy hot liquid burns your body as you change until finally, you're being dumped out onto the stone floor, shivering, sputtering, and coughing. Your new fae senses are immediately overwhelming. It's all too much. The sobbing, the begging. Nesta’s cries of fury. Elain’s sobbing. The sickening scent of blood. Even the stone floor, is far too cold and rough against your skin. You wish you could just close your eyes and fall asleep, fade into blissful unconsciousness where nothing is too much. You flinch, looking up as Lucian drapes his coat over you, no longer sure what he is to you. You try to tell yourself that you don’t care about the sadness in his eyes at your fear and uncertainty towards him. You just want it to all be over. You just want-

You awaken suddenly, shoving the male away from you. You move across the bed, putting as much space between your bodies as you can, grabbing a hairbrush from the vanity to arm yourself, before realizing it was Lucien. He watches you, hands raised in front of him, as if to calm you like you were a frightened animal. You throw the brush at the wall a foot or so away from him, hoping to drive him away. But he stays, watching you. You grab something else and throw it, this item shattering against the wall, but still he doesn’t leave. You hate the way he looks at you, hate the regret that fills his eyes. The pity. You throw something else towards the bathing room.

“Get out!” You scream, not caring how loud you’re being, not caring if you wake the whole of Spring. But he doesn’t, he just stands there, watching, waiting. After a few minutes, the sobs come and you sink to the ground. He crosses the room, sinking down next to you, pulling you into his arms. Tonight, you let him, some part of you tired of shoving him away, when you so desperately want him there. You cling to him, sobbing into his chest and he holds you tight. He brushes your hair out of your face, keeping it from clumping in your tears. He’s glad that you can’t see his face, seeing the tears that are threatening to spill. He knows that this is his fault. He couldn’t stop you from going into the cauldron and now you hate him. His mate hates him, and most of the time, he believes he deserves it. He flinches, startled out of his thoughts by your hand on his face. He leans into the tender touch, savoring it, despite his surprise.

“Why do you keep coming back when I treat you this way?” you ask.

“Because I deserve it. You should hate me.” I hate me is left unsaid.

“No, you don’t. I don’t.” You shouldn’t.

“Why not? I should have stopped it. Stopped them.”

“Perhaps. But what could you have done? Against Tamlin? Against… It wouldn’t have made a difference.” He says nothing, knowing that you’re right, but not wanting to agree.

“You couldn’t have done anything more than I could have with that knife Under the Mountain. I used to wonder why you didn’t try harder to stop Tamlin from suffocating her.”

“And now?”

You look him in the eyes. “Now I know you’re just as powerless as I am.”

A/N: And there's fic 2 on the blog! I have a few ideas for the next chapter of both this one and Everything Could Be Okay. Hopefully, the next one for Lucien will be fluffier, he certainly deserves it!

divider once again by @tsunami-of-tears

[tinylilacbun]

rafe involuntarily regresses and doesn't know it ‧₊˚ ┊

You are just about to finish your skincare routine when you see your phone light up, wiping your hands on a towel before picking it up, smiling at seeing that its a message from Rafe.

A frown spreads on your face, reading that you both couldn't meet up today because something came up.

Weird. It's unlike him to abruptly cancel your plans since he always looks forward to every second he gets to spend with you, so you're a little concerned that something might be wrong.

He has been under a lot of stress lately, to which he just replied that it's just because of Sarah acting up or some shit, but you know better.

That's how you're now making your short way to Tannyhill, luckily living a few houses away from your boyfriend.

As you round the corner you stop when you hear a familiar voice shouting.

"Please! Sarah, please don't leave, okay?" Rafe calls out desperately, continuing when Sarah stops her bicycle. "Dad's gone. And now it's just...it's you, me, and Wheezie."

"What's the point, Rafe?" Sarah sniffles, trying to keep up a tough facade.

You watch as he approaches to stand in front of her, not being able to make out what they're saying and shocked by what you just heard, Ward is gone?

After a while Sarah simply drives past him and he lifts his hands to fist his hair in frustration, turning to watch his sister leave he catches you standing a few feet away, his hands falling back to his sides.

Walking over to him you see a single tear rolling down his face, picking up your pace you embrace him just in time for him to break down.

He loosely wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck and his body trembling slightly as he cries, finally letting out all the pent up emotions he kept sealed for the past weeks.

"He's gone...he-" He chokes on his own words and you shush him softly.

"I'm here, I got you..." You assure him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "C'mon, let's go inside. Tell me what happened."

Soon you're both cuddled up on his bed. Rafe laying on top of you, using your chest as a pillow while you run a hand through his hair to soothe him as he sniffles, his hands holding onto you for dear life.

"If I wouldn't have...I could have saved him I-" He keeps on rambling over and over again, blaming himself for his father's death.

You sigh heavily, on one side you obviously feel bad for him, not wanting to see the person you love so much in pain.

On the other side you can't help but feel a tinge of frustration at how much Rafe cares for his father who didn't even wanted to acknowledge the fact that his son needed help even after he himself told him that he's not well.

He doesn't need to be all big and independent in your eyes. He should get to have someone that listens to him and help him fight his demons, not push him away and tell him to 'man up'.

"You're not alone, baby...I'm here for you, always." You hum, your nails softly scratching the back of his head to the nape of his neck, pressing a kiss to his hair.

He adjusts his position to be able to look up at you with glassy eyes, the tiniest pout on his face as he blinks at you. "M'scared..."

"Scared? Of what?" You ask, your voice soft and like balm to his soul.

"This- This feelin'." He mumbles, his grip on your shirt tightening momentarily. "I jus'...feel so small? I dunno, you make me feel safe and- and taken care of."

Your eyes widen a tad, your hands not stopping their comforting gestures. You've noticed for a while that Rafe seems to slip into some kind of subspace? But not exactly what you would expect.

His speech slurs and he won't let go of you, not even for longer than a minute, almost whimpering when you would pull away.

He reminds you of this sweet little boy he was when you both were younger and playing or fooling around in figure eight.

"It's okay, don't worry about anything right now. Just relax." You smile at him, cupping his cheek with your hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb as he nuzzles more against you, craving your comfort.

Whatever this is he seems to slip into, you're there for him, always. You love Rafe with your whole heart and would do anything to make him feel cared for.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[https-capri]

Do I Wanna Know?

caleb x reader angst

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cw: angst (hurt no comfort), name-calling (ONCE), caleb is a lil ooc bc ik he cray cray for mc but not today! lower case on purpose

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it had been years since you had seen him, years that you took to grieve him and heal. now, your (what seemed like) long forgotten childhood best friend was standing before you. a cold, unfamiliar gaze presented itself to you, and you couldn't help but feel uneasy, even unsure that this was truly caleb and surely not the same boy you'd remembered.

"caleb.. it can't be, is it really you?"

a slow, thoughtful nod is the only response you get, seeing his eyes filled with guilt and an unfamiliar emotion. you rush into his embrace eagerly, hugging him tightly as if he were to disappear again.

unsure if it was due to shock or the fleets training, you're only met with a hand being placed on the small of your back in return. it feels like a small piece of your heart shattered, despite having grieved someone who never died, the version of them you knew did.

your mind races, flooded with too many emotions to manage.

"what happened to you?" the question comes out angered, despite your voice having cracked whilst on the brink of sobbing.

he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes scanning yours. "i joined the fleet, i had nowhere else to go" he states simply, seemingly having skipped over the entire incident that left you shattered.

"you left me, caleb. i grieved you because i thought you were gone." you seethe, knowing the angry facade on your face was wearing thin, just happy that he was back.. despite being a different caleb than who you remembered.

"well i'm back now, aren't i? ...what good is it to still be upset" he retorts, almost uninterested in the both of you being reunited.

"besides, we'll have to go our separate ways again soon enough."

it feels like the breath is being pulled from out of your lungs, why is he not happy to see me? what did they do to him?

"do you just not care that we finally get to see eachother again?" a single tear rolls down your cheek, feeling the walls cracking.

he scoffs.

"hey- pipsqueak, i had to grieve you too, and grandma. i just.. learned to live a life without you"

he finally admits it. slowly, which didn't help the pain, but at least he confessed.

he had moved on

his nickname didn't comfort you the way it used to, instead feeling like someone had poured sand into your lungs.

"gege.."

you whisper, hardly audible as your brain racks the reasons he could've turned so cruel.

"don't you love me?"

a pained look grazes his face, only for a quarter of a second. taking its place is a look of pity, which doesn't make you feel better at all.

the words leave your lips like vomit, unable to stop them despite trying to bite your tongue for the better good.

"i.." his lips purse, looking for an answer.

daringly, you near closer to him, hoping to any godly being above that you could bring the old caleb back and- save him.

"i love you, caleb. can't you see that?" you admit, the confession being distorted through soft cries and sniffles.

he looks away, his face red. he looks uncomfortable.

"i have someone." he finally blurts out.

it feels like a gunshot. ever since you two were kids you had always planned a future with eachother in it. pinky promises late at night, warm breaths blowing dandelions into the summer breeze, wishes on eyelashes, all to be with him in the future.

you gritted your teeth, biting back any kind of pathetic response. you lower your head, a soft, almost hesitant nod because you didn't want to accept that.

you felt like one of his fan girls back in high school, wondering if this is how they felt when he'd politely reject them. and also wondering if the other girls he's with now is getting the same treatment you used to.

the air felt tense, and awkward. there was nothing you could've said in that moment to have the ending you'd always hoped for.

sucking in a stiff inhale through clenched teeth, your gaze meets his once more.

"well, i hope you both are happy" you lie, speaking with a weak, guilty tone.

you had hoped this would be the turning point, that part where caleb reaches out and changes his mind, knowing that you're the one he wants, the only one there's ever been.

you can see him shaking his head from your side view, slowly turning to leave this godforsaken room. it's like you're subconsciously giving him the time to make a decision you knew wasn't going to happen.

"goodbye" you say flatly, hand gripping the doorknob with more pressure than intended, knowing that when you leave this room, closing the door behind you- that you're not only leaving this place for good, but caleb along with it.

"bye" he calls out, no motive to stop you from leaving.

@erensfeed @sxlfcxst