#I just can't stop I need to express my feelings in a way that matters

[cosmicatta]

EVERYONE READ THIS IT'S ABOUT MY BABY I'M CRYING 😭😭😭💜💜💜

I already left a half-coherent comment on ao3 so I don't want to repeat myself, but!!! I'm just so happy, giggling, kicking my feet right now. It's just so lovely and perfect, this is 100% canon in this AU now 🌸

Princess Monster

For @cosmicatta!! All credits for this AU and Monkey D. Ola go to her! (Please check out her amazing art and fics <33)

There is going to be a short lawlu extra tomorrow (hopefully, I'm gonna be AFK most of the day) because I have no self-control and I am also not sorry at all :)

Side note: happy birthday Luffy, my one and only sun! Here, have Ola's birth as your gift! I'm gonna try to throw something together for his birthday specifically but uhh who knows ahahah

PLEASE NOTE that this story contains MPREG (you're welcome to use your imagination on who's actually pregnant tho ahaha)

[ Read on AO3 | Extra | Ko-Fi ]

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Sanji wasn’t sure what he had expected when Luffy burst into the kitchen one afternoon with Law in tow. He had expected something—after all, Luffy being late for lunch was never without reason—but that ‘something’ sure as hell wasn’t what actually came out of his captain’s mouth.

“We’re having a baby!”

Dead silence settled over the kitchen as everyone present stared at Luffy with an open mouth.

“I’m sorry, who is having what?” Usopp finally asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

“Me and Torao. We’re having a baby,” Luffy replied matter-of-factly as he settled into a chair, grabbing for the whole chicken in the middle of the table.

Sanji automatically swatted him, “Hands off, that’s for Nami-san, Robin-chan, and Ikkaku-chan. Are you actually for real?”

“You’re mean,” Luffy whined, chewing on a slab of sea king meat unhappily, his eyes still fixated on the chicken. “But yeah? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because the Captain—You—You know…” Penguin tried, waving his hands around vaguely and obviously looking for words.

“My head already hurts…” Torao muttered, dropping into his designated chair next to Luffy, throwing his arm around the back on Luffy’s own chair.

“Well, considering Torao isn’t trying to murder Luffy right now, I guess it’s not just in Luffy’s head,” Zoro laughed, earning himself a glare from both Luffy and Torao—one of those way more threatening than the other—but he didn’t pay them any mind. Instead he raised his mug in a toast. “Congrats.”

That seemed to break the spell that had both of the crews in a stupor. Suddenly, everyone was cheering and congratulating their captains on the happy news, asking a million questions and already making plans for a celebration.

There was Franky crying his eyes out, Bepo hanging onto Law and rubbing his face against him, Penguin and Shachi fighting over who was going to be the godfather—as if the Straw Hats would let them hog that role all to themselves—Chopper so happy he didn’t know what to do with himself, and of course, Robin enveloping Luffy in a warm hug with a happy smile on her face.

Sanji wanted to feel jealous. He would be, very much so in fact, under any other circumstances.

However, right now…

Right now he had more pressing issues on his mind.

Exchanging a look with Nami and Usopp, all three of them nodded, a mutual understanding between them.

Sanji needed a cigarette.

—————

It was that very same night that Sanji found himself in the kitchen once more. This time, however, the atmosphere was much calmer… and also much more serious. The silence that hung over the room was almost oppressing, the unspoken tension felt by everyone present.

Sanji carefully placed a cocktail glass in front of Nami, who only muttered her thanks in a voice so quiet it was barely more than a whisper.

Usopp seemed to not even have it in himself to protest the unfair treatment or demand his own from where he was lying slumped over the table, his eyes staring off into space and fixed on an empty spot on the wall. Sanji could understand the sentiment.

With a sigh, Sanji pulled out a chair and sat down, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it, taking a long drag. He wondered… how many chances to enjoy a smoke in peace did he have left?

It was only minutes later that Usopp finally broke the silence in a completely lifeless voice, not even bothering to unglue his face from the table. “What are we gonna do?”

“Pray,” Sanji replied, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling. Really, what else was there for them?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them okay?” Usopp continued, gesturing with his hand as if to stress his words while still keeping his head on the table. “But can you imagine? A person, a human person who is half Luffy and half Torao? That’s not going to be a human person, it’s going to be the thing that will finally sink the Sunny.”

“Tell me about it…” Sanji mumbled. “If that baby eats as much as Luffy does? Do you have any idea what it’s like feeding one Luffy?”

“Not to mention the cost of feeding one Luffy.” Nami nodded in agreement as she rubbed the bridge of her nose; no doubt already worrying about their already strained finances.

Usopp groaned. “Even just picturing their personality is giving me a headache. We are so fucked guys.”

Suddenly, Nami slammed her glass on the table, startling both Sanji and Usopp and making both their heads turn to stare at her. She was silent for a moment longer, her eyes closed but her posture firm. It was obvious she had come to a conclusion in her mind and was about to assume command of their meeting.

Ah, Sanji loved her when she was decisive like this too…

“Listen, you two,” she said once she finally opened her eyes and gave them both a serious look. “We need to stop panicking. What is our advantage?”

“Uhm.” Usopp frowned, taken aback. “That we’re three adults against one monster of a baby?”

Nami rolled her eyes. “That we’ll be there from day one. We can be positive role models and neutralise the awful influence of their parents and their freak-genes.”

“I see. Avert the worst case scenario with positive reinforcement training,” Usopp hummed as he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

“Don’t talk about the kid like they’re a dog.” Sanji lit up a new cigarette before he wondered out loud, “But Nami-san, can the three of us do it? We’re up against Luffy.”

Nami heaved a deep sigh, resting her cheek against her palm as she sipped on her drink. “Well, what other choice do we have? We can’t just will the problem away and we can’t possibly… I don’t know, edit their bloodline element to not be a Luffy and Torao child.”

Sanji winced, not wanting to even think about any genetic modifications. He had had more than enough of that at three years old for the rest of his damn life. He’d rather have the kid eat twice as much as Luffy and be twice as picky as Law than anything even close to that.

(No, Sanji would never let that umeboshi fight they had on their way to Punk Hazard all those years ago go, thank you very much.)

“So, Nami… what’s the plan? Once they’re born, do we just make sure to feed them a normal person amount and teach them not to say or do creepy shit while Luffy, Torao, and Robin are right there?” Usopp asked.

Nami grubbed at her temple and sighed. “Something like that. We still have a few months, we can work on the actual plan during that time…”

“Here’s hoping,” Usopp groaned, slumping back on the table. “Man, kids are exhausting…”

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Sanji couldn’t help but agree with Usopp. He was so tired already and they only found out about it today. 

Sanji honestly dreaded the day they were born.

—————

Sanji sighed, running his hands through his hair. He wanted a cigarette but Chopper had made him promise to stop smoking. He supposed he could at least go outside for air but that would mean leaving and what if something happened while he was gone? He had to be there, he had to stay in this room with everyone so that they could help if needed. Or be there once they can meet their newest crewmember.

And no, Sanji wasn’t nervous. Not at all. He knew nothing would go wrong and everything would be fine. He was perfectly fine—

“Can you stop pacing around like you’re the goddamned father, Curly?”

“Shut the fuck up, Marimo,” Sanji snapped, baring his teeth at the man who dared call himself his boyfriend but instead was still the same asshole he was when they first met. Why did Sanji tolerate him anyway?

Zoro rolled his eyes, leaning forward to grab Sanji’s hand and pulling him closer—closer until Sanji was basically standing between the swordsman’s legs with his arms wrapped loosely around Sanji’s slowly growing stomach, his presence solid and grounding and suddenly, Sanji felt like he could breathe easier. Ah… Yes, this was why.

Sanji took a deep breath as his shoulders sagged and his whole body relaxed, focusing on the warmth of Zoro’s body against his own instead of his thoughts.

“It’s fine, Chopper’s there,” Zoro said, his voice steady and firm.

“I know. Sorry,” Sanji muttered back. All of a sudden, he felt like the idiot, getting all worked up for nothing. It wasn’t like worrying would help in any way, was it?

“Thank god, the pacing was making me nervous,” Shachi noted with laughter that sounded way too strained to be amused.

Yeah, they were all nervous weren’t they?

Sanji wished it would end already. The wait was the worst.

Suddenly, as if answering his thoughts, the lock clicked and the door to the infirmary creaked.

Everyone’s heads immediately snapped to stare as the door slowly opened, holding their breaths and not moving a muscle, their hearts beating a mile per second in their throats—at least, that was what Sanji’s heart was doing. But considering even the Marimo froze completely against him, he was sure they were all in the same boat.

It felt like hours before Chopper came into view behind the door, looking completely spent. Tears were glistening in his eyes as he looked up, his gaze taking in all the Straw Hats and Hearts that were packed into the waiting room.

Sanji gulped heavily, watching with wide eyes as Chopper started crying—at the same time as his mouth split into the widest, happiest smile Sanji had ever seen on the little reindeer.

“It—” Chopper started but then stopped as he choked on his own words. “It’s a girl. They–they’re–everyone’s doing great.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment as the information slowly sank in. But then…

“WHOO-HOO!!”

Loud cheers erupted around the room as the invisible weight they had been carrying around lifted. Sanji laughed in relief, his lips stretching into a smile. One of his hands automatically came to rest over Zoro’s arm around his stomach, squeezing lightly.

He heard Zoro huff in response, the man only hugging him closer in a wordless gesture that they both understood but neither addressed.

“Shut the fuck up!” someone finally snapped from inside the infirmary when it seemed like the cries and excitement wasn’t about to end anytime soon.

And, as if by magic, everyone went quiet, some even going so far as to slap their hands over their mouths. There were only several muttered ‘sorry, Captain’ and ‘sorry, Torao’s to be heard before the thin film of Law’s room appeared—and only a split second later, the door to the infirmary slammed shut again by itself.

“Well, I guess they really are fine…” Usopp mumbled after a moment.

“So uh. Can we meet her or?” Uni asked uncertainly.

“Who’s going to ask them though?” Penguin asked back, shooting a look at Uni, then the door, then finally at everyone else in the room.

A moment of silence passed before everyone echoed, “Bepo.”

“Why me?” the bear whined.

“Because he’s not going to kill you,” Shachi explained helpfully, which only earned him an unhappy frown from Bepo.

“Stop bullying my bear!” Law snapped from the inside of the infirmary.

“It’s fine~! Come see her!” Luffy called, completely ignoring Law.

The two crews exchanged glances, all of them hesitating to move at first but then Ikkaku sighed and got up. “Cowards,” she shot with a smirk before reaching for the door handle, opening the door and walking inside like nothing was wrong.

“Now she acts all cocky but when it was just the Captain threatening us…” Clione grumbled only to receive general hums of agreement.

But, with the spell broken, everyone slowly shuffled into the infirmary to meet the 'Pirate Princeling (gender neutral)', as Big News Morgans had dubbed her.

Was that going to be 'Pirate Princess' now?

Sanji took a deep breath, preparing himself—he wasn’t even sure what for. He didn’t fight it when Zoro grabbed his hand to pull him inside the room with everyone.

By the time they got there, a crowd was already gathered around the bed, all of them cooing and giggling as they greeted their youngest crew member, everyone pushing at each other to get the better view. It was so crowded in fact, that Sanji couldn’t see a thing.

“My, she is quite adorable,” Robin whilpered, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, thank god she looks nothing like the Captain,” Shachi mumbled—unfortunately for him, not quiet enough for the parents to not hear him, as proven by the swift kick he received in response, as well as Luffy’s laughter.

Nami sighed. “How the hell are you both so full of energy? I feel like I’m more exhausted than the two of you combined and I was just waiting out there, not giving birth or watching my partner do that…” she groaned as she rubbed at her face tiredly while everyone else nodded.

“Eh, it wasn’t that bad,” Luffy said with a cute little frown before he glanced at Law. “Right?”

“Yeah, we’ve had worse in a fight than this.” Law shrugged, making everyone exchange a glance.

“You’re both freaks,” Usopp decided before his tone completely changed, turning into the sweetest, most obnoxious voice Sanji had ever heard. “Little Ola, are you hearing this? Your dads are freaks. At least you are cute.”

Sanji bit back a snort. He had to wonder whatever had happened to ‘this kid will be a monster!’ which had been the only thing that Sanji had heard from the sniper in regards to the child since they were told she was on the way. Just how easy was Usopp to sell?

Because Sanji, as happy as he was for his captain and for Torao, still remembered and dreaded what she was going to grow up into. A bottomless pit who ate nothing but tuna-mayo onigiri? Did she have any idea how much work that was going to be?

No. No way Sanji was weak enough to just ignore that.

“Sanji-kun, stop hanging out in the back and come look!” Nami said, waving him over almost… excitedly.

Ah, Sanji really was left alone with his fears, wasn’t he? But he could forgive Nami at least.

“Yes, Nami-san!” he called, his lips curling into a wide smile as he skipped over to their navigator’s side.

“So whipped,” Zoro said with badly suppressed amusement.

Sanji clicked his tongue, reminding himself they were currently in the infirmary with a newborn baby, and that Chopper would cry if they started fighting. Settling to only shooting his so-called boyfriend the dirtiest glare he could manage, Sanji quickly turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

Making his way through the huddle of people, he took in the sight that was the patient’s bed. Luffy and Torao were both sitting on it as if they had just come out for tea and cookies—Luffy was sitting cross-legged on the covers, grinning like the idiot he was with his chin resting against Law’s knee where he had it pulled up. Law let him; he himself played absentmindedly with Luffy’s fingers but he also looked almost bored and ready to get up and leave, just to get some peace and quiet.

If Sanji didn’t know what they had been doing in here up until a few minutes ago, he would have thought they had just walked in on them playing cards with Chopper.

Truly freaks of nature, the both of them.

Sanji huffed, his eyes dropping to where Ikkaku was now cradling the kid in her arms.

He studied her tiny face, round and red, the shape of it so close to Luffy’s that he startled. She looked so comfortable all bundled up in her blanket, resting against the crook of Ikakku’s elbow, her tiny fist curled around Hakugan’s little finger and holding it close. She looked so fragile…

Ah.

He got it now.

And he didn’t care how much she was going to eat anymore.

“So your name is Ola?” Sanji asked as a soft smile pulled on his lips. Placing his right hand over his heart, Sanji bowed deeply. “It’s a pleasure, Princess.”

[paintedpineleaf]

one of the oddest feelings i experience is when i position myself outside my body and don't think of it as my own, i really think i have a hot body, like it's exactly my type and i would actually be so attracted to someone who looked like that, then if i look at that same body and think of it as my own, like i look in the mirror and i think "that's my body, that's me", it's like there isn't anything right with that body, my thighs are too fat and my body fat percentage is too high and my lower stomach "pooch" is so big i look 3 months pregnant and on and on and on. why does this look like this why does that look like that etc etc etc.

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ "oh shit you're crying okay"

Hazbin Hotel boys react to you crying at a party

Warnings : mentions of val. hate that motherfucker.

Genre : angst, comfort, fluff

A/n : bro I jump between fandom obsessions too much I need help. Why am I simping for THE DEVIL from THE BIBLE and A TV-HEAD MAN 😭😭 actually devastated with myself. Anyways Vox and Alastor's may be a bit longer because... yeah. Angel-Dust's is a friend relationship but you can interpret it differently if you are a dude lol

Characters : angel-dust, husk, alastor, vox, lucifer

▢ angel dust 𔘓

When he walked into the bathroom, he was shocked at first at the sight of you, feeling fear grip his heart.

Had Val got his hands on you when he was distracted? He would never forgive himself if he had-

"Toots, ya can't jus' go an' disappear on me like that," He began softly as he closed the bathroom door, locking it for privacy," had me tearin' out my hair."

You sniffed as you look up at him, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks swollen from tears," s-sorry..." you whimpered out, curling in on yourself a little more.

He grimaced at the dirty floor you were sitting on before maneuvering around you sit next to you, one of his arms pulling you into his side-embrace comfortingly.

"This party's fuckin' shitty, ain't it? Sorry for bringin' ya here, doll." He sighed out, hand caressing your side softly.

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from sobbing as you shook your head vehemently," i-it's not that, Angel... you were only trying to cheer me up..." you furiously wiped at your eyes to stop more tears from falling," I just-... Fucking hate everything down here..."

He hummed, head leaning on top of yours," cheers to that." He droned out with a frown.

You looked up at him, his heart squeezing at the innocent look on your face. You weren't supposed to be down in a place like this, there was no way.

"Can we just... go get ice cream or something?" You then gulped, waving a hand," b-but if you're having fun-"

"Nah. I'd rather do one of Charlie's trust exercises than be in this shit-hole." He stood up smoothly and pulled you with him, keeping you close to him as he grinned toothily," I would kill for an ice cream right now."

▢ alastor ⍋

He didn't willingly want to be here, in fact he stayed for a total of 15 minutes to please Charlie before escaping outside to leave.

But the sight of you sitting on the steps outside sniffling to yourself made him pause in his long strides.

You had your head hung low, a red plastic cup sitting at your side alone.

You were prime for manipulation.

But... Alastor found himself being sympathetic. He breathed out a sigh before walking over to you," my, what do we have here? My dear, being out in the open in such a vulnerable state is a bold choice!" He exclaimed, grinning down at you, but it wasn't as sharp as it usually was.

You jumped at his sudden presence," Jesus-!" You looked up.

"Not quite!"

You seemed to relax at the sight of the red-haired demon and sighed in relief," Alastor..." you gave him a weak smile, wiping away at your tears," Wh-what brings you out here, huh? Needed fresh air?"

He sat down on the steps with you," As a matter of fact, I was planning my great escape from this wretched event!" He tilted his head at you, hair falling along with him as he regarded you with a knowing glint in his eyes," I believe you're well acquainted with the feeling, hmm?"

Your smile fell as you huffed, deciding it was useless to keep up a happy persona around Alastor when he was so good at reading right through you," You could say that."

"What bothers you so, my dear?" He gave you a closed-eyed smile, tugging at your cheek like an annoying auntie would do," perhaps your favourite radio demon can be of service to you."

He earned a giggle from you as you waved his hand away amusedly, making his expression soften at the sound.

"You're the only radio demon I know." You raised a brow at him in amusement.

He nodded with an exageratted shrug," I wouldn't have it any other way, dear."

You smiled genuinely at him, feeling your worries already disappearing," parties suck." You answered his previous question.

"Aha!" His smile looked like a grimace and his fluffy ears flattened as if an unpleasant memory was reminded to him," agreed."

"They're gross."

"Tell me about it!"

"And the people in it make me want to kill myself. Again."

He snapped his fingers at you," I knew we had something in common! Well-said, cher, very well-said~!" He pressed a hand to his heart - as if he had one.

As you laughed, your tears dried up and you leaned back a little," as for you being of service?..." You trailed off, referring back to his earlier inquiry. A soft smile made its way to your lips," I think you've helped enough already, Al."

The red demon's posture seemed to stiffen but relax, his grin curving gently which was his way of softening it," Wonderful to hear, my dear."

He gave you a gentle pat to the shoulder and you had never felt so comforted in that moment.

▢ husk ꩜

Before even attending the party, he knew something was up with you. You weren't smiling as much on the way there, and you were jumpy at his comforting touches.

Even so, you insited that you wanted to spend time with everyone at the party despite his assurances that you could stay home.

When he found you crying in the bathroom, he froze in his spot before grumbling to himself and closing the door behind him, not before giving a growl and a deadly glare at the demon that was whining about needing a piss.

He led you gently from the ground to a standing position before settling you on the toilet seat.

The silence between you both was soft and comforting, hanging in the air like a gentle caress of wind.

He got down on his knees in front of you and began to wipe away at your tears, a deep frown settled on his face.

You only stared into his eyes with your glassy ones, bottom lip trembling," my makeup probably looks so fucking gross..." you sobbed.

Husk snorted," should be the least of your worries, doll." When you finally stopped crying he huffed and flicked your forehead," you have some serious FOMO." He grumbled out, an amused smirk on his fluffy face.

You sniffled and nodded, choking back more tears," I know."

"And you need to know when to stop if you're uncomfortable."

You nodded again," I know.."

His brows furrowed," and you still look pretty with your makeup running down your face." His reassurance was sweet and charming despite the disgruntled expression on his face.

A watery smile broke onto your lips,"... Thank you." You breathed out softly.

"Wanna get the fuck outta here? There's a nice bar I know a few blocks away we could drink at. Just the two of us."

You hummed," Sounds awesome."

▢ vox ᯤ

When he agreed to go to this stupid party for Val, he wasn't expecting to run into something like this.

His greatest enemy, you, was sat outside with your head in your hands as you sobbed and cursed to yourself.

To be honest he was torn between making fun of you or just taking advantage of the situation and killing you.

But there was that little voice in the back of his coding that screamed to comfort you.

He groaned and ran his hands down his face," fuck my life fuck my life fuck my life..." He muttered to himself as he walked over to you.

He stood behind you and watched as you paused to look up at him, face puffy and pathetic.

He grinned wryly at the sight," Holy shit you're an ugly crier." He stated without thinking.

Your wide eyes turned half-lidded as you turned your attention away from him," Go fuck yourself, Vox. I'm not in the mood for your whiny baby shit." You grumbled out.

"Hey, hey. Whiny baby is too far, sweetheart. Take the insults down a few notches, yeah?" He then sat down next to you," treating me like this when about to comfort you. The fuckin' nerve of you."

You gave him a deadly glare, growling," Vox, leave. I told you I'm not in the fucking m-" you were interrupted by being pulled into a sudden embrace, making you shut up immediately.

There was a long awkward silence as you were pulled into Vox's side in a side-hug.

Then you spoke with a small voice,"... what is this." Was more of a demand than a question.

"Comfort." Vox replied casually when he was fucking sweating buckets.

"........ huh...." you bit your lip as you felt tears sting at your eyes,"... alright."

You leaned into him unknowingly, making him gush a little to himself. Why the fuck was he being soft right now? He didn't know.

"You looked hot tonight. All dolled up." He gritted out.

"Yeah? Looked? Past-tense?"

He nodded," you look like a wet-rag now."

You snorted," fuck you, man." You grumbled, and leaned your head onto his shoulder," fuck, I'm pathetic..."

"Yeah. But it's okay." He replied as comfortingly as he could but it just came out awkwardly," y'know parties are supposed to be fun? Why are you crying?"

"I hate my life? Or lack thereof?"

He hummed with a nod," Fair enough." Then he smiled widely," guess we have one thing in common, huh?"

You looked up at him before you sent him a slightly amused smirk," do we?"

He cleared his throat at your expression and looked away quickly, blush on his screen,"I-I mean.. yeah. Fucking sucks down here. Literal shit hole." Then he shrugged, trying to brush off the stutter of his heart," but... but at least you're not like... alone or whatever the fuck."

You stared for a moment, eyes softening as you nodded in agreement,"... Yeah. At least there's that, huh?"

You leaned back into his embrace with less tension in your body as Vox began to relax alongside you.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

He came to this party just to make a brief appearance for his daughter's celebration of the hotel being rebuilt to be honest.

But he took quick note of how you had left very suddenly, mumbling to him about needing to take a breather outside. He was worried, of course, but he just left you in your lonesome until he got worried when you didn't return for 20 minutes.

When he walked outside onto the balcony of the hotel his eyes widened in horror at the sigh of you sobbing to yourself.

"Oh shit you're crying okay ummm," He walked over to you quickly, playing with his fingers awkwardly," Honey is everything okay? Do...do you need a hug?"

"Shit... sorry..." you mumbled looking up at him ashamedly from the floor, smiling pathetically as tears trailed down your cheeks," I.. I'm sorry you have to see me like this..."

He frowned deeply, his nervousness subsiding as he crouched down in front of you," Don't apologise for something so silly." He mumbled, grabbing on your hand and gently squeezing," what's wrong? Is it something I can help with?"

His concern was incredibly sweet and touching, not something you would expect from the King of Hell.

But here he was comforting you like you were the most precious treasure to him. And you were... aside from Charlie, for obvious reasons.

You sniffled and felt your tears gathering again at his concern, you bottom lip trembling. At the sight, he frowned," Oh, love... oh honey..." He brought you into a hug, arms wrapping securely around you as he let his wings embrace you as well," I'm here now... always will be..."

You nodded against him as you just cried your heart out.

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[amazinglyashy]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?

(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)

Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3

LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street

Xavier -

He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.

There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.

He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.

So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.

He can't help it.

He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-

And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?

You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.

Zayne -

Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.

He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.

He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.

You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.

If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-

Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.

Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.

Rafayel -

He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.

If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.

He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.

The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.

He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.

He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-

And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.

Sylus -

I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.

Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-

But you knew.

You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.

For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.

No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.

Just a bit.

Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.

"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn't even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes. 

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point. 

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son's forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As he does, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to. 

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

part two here!

[kaeyas-beloved]

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

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@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

[cosmicanakin]

ִ𓂃⋆ A HUNTER'S REMEDY.

੭୧ . . . dean winchester x female!reader.

ᯓ trapped in a motel with dean, you find unexpected relief from restlessness through helpful distractions.

warning(s) smut┆friends with benefits┆s1 dean┆thigh riding┆strong language. 𓇼 i swear i have BAD dean brainrot. he just won't leave my head no matter what i do. gonna watch supernatural tonight for spooktober<3 eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist

you sat across from dean at the rickety motel table, your eyes occasionally flicking between the worn pages of john's journal and dean's focused expression. it had been hours since sam left for the library, promising to return with more information about the case, and the sun had long since dipped below the horizon.

your leg bounced restlessly under the table, a nervous habit you'd developed over years of hunting. the original plan had been to hit the local bar—a much-needed break from the constant research and hunting—but sam's extended absence had relegated you and dean to more case work.

"would you cut that out?" dean's gruff voice broke through the silence, his green eyes fixed on your fidgeting form. "you're making the whole table shake."

you mumbled an apology, trying to still your movements, but the restless energy continued to course through your body. your relationship with dean was... complicated. best friends who occasionally crossed lines that friends shouldn't, but neither of you ever complained about it. it worked for you both, somehow.

"i can't help it," you whined softly, shifting in your chair again. "we've been sitting here forever."

dean watched you for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips — a gesture that shouldn't have affected you as much as it did. "come here," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave lower.

you hesitated, knowing exactly what that tone meant. "dean..."

"now," he demanded, pushing his chair back slightly from the table. "you clearly need help focusing, and i know exactly what'll help."

heat pooled in your lower belly as you stood, making your way around the table to where he sat. dean's hands found your hips instantly, guiding you to straddle his right thigh. you could feel the heat of his skin through your thin black leggings as they pressed against the rough denim of his jeans.

"there you go," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "now be a good girl and help yourself while i work. maybe this'll help with that restless energy of yours."

your breath hitched as he pulled sam's laptop closer, acting as if he hadn't just given you permission to get yourself off on his thigh. his free hand remained on your hip, encouraging you to move.

slowly, you began to rock against him, the friction of your leggings against his jeans creating the perfect pressure. dean continued scrolling through newspaper articles, but you could feel the tension in his body, the way his thigh flexed beneath you every so often.

"that's it," he praised quietly, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "just like that, sweetheart."

your movements became more desperate as the pleasure built, your hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. the material of his flannel bunched under your fingers as you ground down harder, the thin fabric of your leggings doing nothing to dull the sensation.

dean's grip on your hip tightened, guiding your movements when they became erratic. "focus," he reminded you, though his voice had grown hoarse. "sam could be back any minute. wouldn't want him walking in on his brother's best friend getting off on his thigh, would we?"

the thought should have made you stop, but instead, it sent a thrill through you. you buried your face in dean's neck, muffling your whimpers against his skin as you chased your release.

"fuck���dean," you breathed, your hips moving faster.

"i've got you," he assured, finally looking away from the laptop to watch your face. "come on, baby. let go for me."

your orgasm washed over you suddenly, your body trembling as dean held you steady. his free hand stroked your back soothingly as you came down from your high, your breathing gradually returning to normal.

"better?" he asked, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

you nodded, still too blissed out to form words. dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before gently nudging you to stand on shaky legs.

"good. now maybe we can get some work done before sammy gets back."

you returned to your seat, noticing how dean adjusted himself in his jeans when he thought you weren't looking. the restless energy was gone, replaced by a pleasant buzz that made focusing on the journal's pages much easier.

when sam finally returned an hour later, arms laden with books and local newspaper clippings, neither you nor dean mentioned how you'd passed the time waiting for him. but every time your leg started bouncing again that night, dean's knowing look across the table made heat rush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but wonder if you'd need another "study break" before the night was through.

[agatalunar]

· . ˚ *  * How do others perceive you? · . ˚ *  *

it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

choose the gif with which you feel most connected/attracted

Pile 1… 2… 3…

⠀〜 Pile 1

Cards: king of wands, the moon, the justice, eight of cups

You are afraid that others will see who you really are and others notice this, they see potential in you but for some reason you don't dare to express it. You have a lot of light inside you but something stops you, you have an infectious laugh. It's as if you wanted to be a rockstar but in your environment you avoid being perceived, there is no balance between what you want and what you do. Others perceive that you hide, but... why do you do it?

You may think that you don't stand out in the crowd, but it's quite the opposite. No matter how basic you dress or how little you speak, you always have eyes looking at you and admiring you.

It's like you're a greek goddess/god trapped in the body of a mere mortal, there's a potential in you that others perceive; little by little take control of that potential, play with makeup and clothes, play with the way you walk and act, you have a mesmerizing aura that others can't resist. Don't be afraid of being perceived. Don't let fear take away your path to success, the world is waiting for you. I don't even know you but I love your energy, you are a star baby!! The world needs an icon of freedom and authenticity like you.

The vibe you bring to the function:

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Luces de Nueva York by Sonora Santanera, Hold me tight by BTS, “can you trust me?”, wear a lot of black, having hair up/short, redhead, 11, 18, Endlessly by Kali Uchis, “watch me with your eyes”, Chappell Roan, Vanity by Christina Aguilera, 1920, 🏳️‍🌈, queer, 888, Bjork, feminine power, “who’s the real me?”, Villain by PIXY, have an audience, fill stages

⠀〜 Pile 2

Cards: ace of wands, king of cups, queen of swords and nine of cups

You don't let others take power over you, others notice the limits you set and that can sometimes intimidate them. You're like that person at the party that everyone wants to talk to but they don't because you have such a strong energy, they love to admire you. No matter how you identify, you have a super well-balanced masculine and feminine energy.

Others love your hair, the way you move when you dance, you may really like silver jewelry or accessories, animal print? Others notice that you have a very mature energy, they perceive you as someone responsible and who knows what they want in life, you are an extremely attractive person, you are such a beautiful human being that your beauty imposes

You love spending time alone or at least you know that your happiness doesn't depend on others, it only depends on you. Although maybe the only thing you haven't completely healed is the fact of feeling vulnerable with someone else, and yes, I'm talking about loving connections. Let your soul feel what it's like to be in love, let someone like you. Don't let the fear of being sensitive take away the possibility of creating deep and beautiful connections.

The vibe you bring to the function:

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Heavens on fire by KISS, 9, Lo que Paso Paso by Daddy Yankee, Can’t get you out of my head by Kylie Minogue, scary beauty, Never say never by The fray, When loves is around by Zayn (feat.Syd), dance to transmute energy, 🐆, 🤎, black hair, Bad girl by WOOAH, Lest fall in love for the morning by Finneas, Hey Ma by Pitbull, You should be dancing by Bee Gees, fast and furious, She’s not afraid by One Direction

⠀〜 Pile 3

Cards: knight of coins, seven of wands, eight of cups and the death

You have a very calm energy, others perceive you as a peaceful person, you have very diverse tastes.

You are a very beautiful person but you don't notice it? Or you just don't give it any importance. Others love spending time with you because your presence attracts calm, you love to see the sky, you probably meditate or you like philosophy and reading a lot, you like to write. They love you because you are not one to criticize, you just want to take it easy, you understand that each individual goes their own way.

Somehow I feel that you have the gift of transmuting the energy of others, the negative energy of the world, you do it automatically so take good care of yourself, rest and eat well. You are like a teacher of life, possibly your soul is an old soul. You let others know a lot about your tastes, your personality and your law of life but you don't let them get too close to your personal life, I don't see it as something bad but understand that there are people in the world that you can trust, not all of them are selfish or bad.

The vibe you bring to the function:

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Sagittarius, air sign, indie kid, Sex, drugs, etc by Beach Weather, alternative music, lying on the grass/admiring the scenery, the pandemic is significant in your life, viral music from tiktok or music from 2019-2021, I love it by Charlie XCX, kpop, Work - Rihanna, Break free by Ariana Grande, diary, Emma Chamberlain, 5, goblin/fairy vibe, Doja Cat, “talking bad is not my style”

Thanks for your time and energy, I hope you liked it <3

[mishellii]

♢ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢

naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi

a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual

masterlist

♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢

✿oh my baby boy

❀first off: angel. 100%.

✿because u are his angel u feel me

❀he can't go a day without telling u

✿then also just the basic baby

❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done

✿puppy eyes and all

❀and also during sexy time

✿it's his most used name for u there

✿fight me on this

❀big on his own self made nicknames for u

✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?

❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"

✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye

❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew

♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢

✿now this guy is a wild card

❀he'd prefer ur name through & through

✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously

❀because he barely ever calls u that

✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife

❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with

❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."

✿during sex he can be quiet mean 

❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way

✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."

❀when ur just about to black out??

✿but like i said 

❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3

♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢

✿pretty

❀just pretty bro.

✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA

❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely

✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,

❀woman. and brat.

✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."

❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working

✿,,i'm busy, brat.''

❀in bed tho???

✿love or doll

❀i'm almost CERTAIN.

✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???

❀PFFF i'm on my knees 

♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢

✿now this fucker

❀teasing names through & through

✿ur shorter than him? 

❀"hey, shortie, need help?"

✿ur taller than him?

❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"

✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)

❀but he can be sweet too i promise

✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby 

❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?

✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u

♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢

✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,

❀bug or lovebug

✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY

❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these

✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names

❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho

✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex

❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU

✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:

❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming

✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''

❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not

✿UGH lovesick fr

♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢

❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him 

✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting

❀sweetheart, love & darling

✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying

❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it 

✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER

❀& i will die on this hill 

✿NEVER use any degrading names for u

❀ur his baby don't make him do that

✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane

❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"

✿ sedate me pls

♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢

✿AAA this guy

❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel

✿u can't change my mind

❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off

✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside

❀i'm thinking toots & peach

✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''

❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first

✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u

❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all

✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3

❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof

♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢

✿AHEM

❀so this man,,

✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name

❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable

✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.

❀his most frequently used one too i'd say

✿but then he'd go like 

❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"

✿and idk about u but i'd faint

❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO

✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN

❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips 

✿i'm (s)creaming

❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!

✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3

a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x

devider by @enchanthings

[oldsoul007]

i’m every women that’s in his mind

nicholas chavez x reader

summary: your boyfriend is obsessed with you and can’t get enough, fluff

Nicholas couldn't get y/n out of his mind. Every moment he wasn't with her, he found himself thinking about her smile, her laugh, and the way she made him feel. His friends noticed how often he talked about her, how his eyes lit up at the mention of her name. Nicholas was completely captivated by y/n, and it was clear to everyone around him that she was always on his mind.

One evening, Nicholas decided it was time to express his feelings. He took y/n to their favorite spot, a quiet park bench under a canopy of stars. The night was calm, the air filled with the soft rustling of leaves. Nicholas took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts and summoning the courage to speak.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked smiling at him.

"Y/n," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "I need to tell you something. I can't stop thinking about you. From the moment I wake up to the time I fall asleep, you're always on my mind. Every little thing reminds me of you, and I find myself looking forward to every moment we spend together."

He paused, searching her eyes for any sign of how she felt. "I realize now that I'm completely obsessed with you. You’ve become such an important part of my life, and I can't imagine my days without you in them. You mean everything to me, more than I ever thought possible."

Nicholas reached out and gently took her hand, hoping she could feel the sincerity in his touch. "I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me, y/n. You're my world." He looked into her eyes, his heart pounding, waiting for her response.

…

Nicholas was completely smitten with his girlfriend, and it showed in everything he did. As an actor, he often found himself in interviews and at events, and no matter the topic, he always managed to bring her up.

"Yeah, filming this movie was an incredible experience," he'd say, his eyes lighting up, "but honestly, the best part was coming home to my girlfriend. She's my rock and inspires me every day."

Even during casual conversations with friends or colleagues, Nicholas couldn't help but mention her. "You know, that reminds me of something my girlfriend said the other day," he'd start, launching into a story that showcased not just his love for her but also how much he valued her opinions and insights.

It was clear to everyone around him that Nicholas's love for his girlfriend was deep and genuine, making their bond a beautiful part of his life and career.

[https-lvesick]

AESPA & THEIR KINKS!

❪ ᶻ  𝘇  𐰁 ❫ 𝒩 otes ⋮ aespa x fem!reader. i have a lot of things to write, but when someone asked for “aespa kinks” something in my mind just clicked... yes, i'm a sucker for them

NIPPLE PLAY | just how you love her boobs, she loves yours. gets messy really easily just by sucking your nipples. drools all over them and starts whining because she's already hot and bothered. if you have piercings, she'll tug on them to tease you and have the time of her life.

THIGH RIDING | usually, karina rides your thigh when she's undeniably needy and needs to cum as soon as possible. frequently done when she gets wet just by playing with your boobs.

FINGERING | she puts you in front of a mirror, between her legs and makes a mess of you. streches your hole with her fingers and when you start squirming and whining, she stops, watching your arousal dripping from you cunt on the bedsheets, hypnotized. when you complain, begging her to let you cum, she does, cooing in your ear, praising her little good girl.

MOMMY KINK | loves being called mommy because she loves taking care of you. treats you just right, stimulating you the way you like and praising you. as soon as the word falls from your lips, she's kissing and climbing onto your lap.

QUIROFILIA | karina is just obsessed with your hands, from the palm to the fingers, and absolutely loves when you come home with a new manicure. constantly playing with your fingers or just putting your hand on her thigh. she can't help but imagine how good you are with your hands, making her drool all over your fingers or just having them inside her. she definitely gets wet by that.

MORNING HEAD | giselle loves waking her girl up with a head, she says it's the best way to assure your day goes well. starts kissing your thighs while removing your bottom parts, then she plays with your clit, pinching and twisting it until you get wet, then she dives in. gives you the sloppiest head ever so you wake up quickly. makes sure to get her girl cumming on her tongue at least twice, then she lets you go.

BONDAGE | only when she's pissed off, not necessarily with you, but she needs to relieve her stress with something and that little thing is you. you're her toy, her pretty and obedient toy and she won't let you say or do anything she doesn't want to. puts your ass up and face down and ties you to the bed, blindfolds you and gets her whip.

SPANKING | always spanks you! no matter if you were a good girl or a bad girl, you are going to receive it. she loves your ass and it's almost a physical need to spank your ass and thighs until they're numb. after that, she licks and scatter kisses all over the affected parts.

CHOKING | the first times she did it, she didn't wanna hurt you, but she can't deny that the way you look so helpless turns her on and you too! every time she chokes you, you clench harder and drip even more, making her fucking proud.

MARKING | winter is kinda possessive of you, so she does anything in her power to make sure people know you're hers. she always marks you, whether it be her nail scratches or hickeys on your body. and she always smears her cum on you, making sure you smell just like her.

BULGE KINK | bought a bigger strap just for her baby. she wanted to try something and now is obsessed with it. makes you wet her cock in the messiest way you can find so you finally sit on it. her eager gaze is stuck on your belly as you sink deeper and deeper in the strap. she couldn't wait for you and was deeply sorry for that, but she needed to fuck you hard. you were just so pretty having her cock bulging in your tummy :(

RECORDING | she gets proud of herself every time she makes you feel good and needs to replay every expression you make. makes you sit on the floor while she stands up and rides your face and these are her favorite videos.

PUBLIC SEX | see, she loves doing it in public because she push your limits and your helpless state is priceless to her, but don't get her wrong, she's not a exhibitionist. you're hers and your pleasure is for her eyes only. loves to control your orgasm in public just to see your pretty face scrunched when you try to calm yourself to not let people notice.

FACE SITTING | this woman is a tease. ningning absolutely loves riding your face because that's the only time when she's “in charge” and she loves to tease you with it. she suffocates you, staying longer in your nose, but she can't keep that attitude, since she gets desperate easily.

SEXTING | again, a total tease. it's all unintentional, at least for you. she is the one who starts it. if you're away from each other, in a party, for example, she gets her phone and texts you, just to say how much she wants you, or how her pussy is wet just by looking at you all pretty. and she stands by what she said! not regretting any word, even when you're ready to treat her like the slut she is.

EDGING | keeps saying she hates it, but keeps begging for it, you don't really understand. whines, breathy moans and her unquiet hands holding you, begging you to stop and leave her, but when you do as she says, she complains. then how can you please your girl?

DIRTY TALK | has the dirtiest pretty mouth and uses against you. whispers dirty things in your ear to work you up and even uses her hands. be it on your thighs, sneaking under your tops or ligering a bit longer on your crotch, your girl is always down to make you go insane. rather do it in public though and that's why is dangerous going out with ningning.

CHOKING | when she gets too impacient because you're taking too long, she guides your hand to her throat and makes you squeeze. her eyes roll to the back of her head whenever you choke her. the first time she asked (begged) you to choke her, you were worried, especially because she was getting red because of the lack of air, but as soon as you noticed her cum dripping down her legs, it was gone.

SCISSORING | it is a must for her, if you don't scissor, then you don't love her! she needs to feel your pussy rubbing against hers and the thought alone is enough to make her cum. when she is close to her orgasm, she starts to pick up her movements and, eventually, squirt on you.

masterlist | all rights reserved to @https-lvesick don't copy or translate my works!

[laine-is-pomegranted]

You won’t do it, no balls (like curly).

Jimmy x co captain Y/N smut, or head cannons NSFW and SFW. Anyways you ate your last Jimmy fic!

Jimmy Headcanons ! (NSFW & SFW)

c/w - jimmy being jimmy

a/n - thinking abt doin headcannons for all of the mouthwashing crew.... lmk if that would be something you guys would wanna see... also sorry about this being so short.

wc - 408

(image not mine)

Safe For Work Headcanons !

huge on pda! always has a hand on your waist or the small off your back or an arm around you. not really in a cutesy "i love my partner so much i need everyone to know how much i love them" way but more in a "i need to keep my dog on a leash" kind of way.

contrary to popular belief, i think he is actually very well groomed. he thinks very highly of himself so i think it would only make sense that he wants to make himself appear extremely put together.

uses cremo's 'bourbon vanilla' bodywash and their ' spice and black vanilla' cologne.

love language is definitely acts of service or gift giving.

he hates telling you that he loves you because it makes him feel like you have a level of control over him and he can't stand it. however, he is constantly doing things for you.

your car needs repairs? he's under the hood. you need help moving something? he's doing it by himself and will NOT let you help.

smokes camel crushes. used to use chewing tabaco because pony express doesn't allow cigarettes onto the ship due to them being fire hazards, but stopped after realizing you could taste it in his mouth. now he just uses nicotine patches while on the ship.

listens to divorced dad rock. think hinder, theory of a deadman, my darkest days.

much bigger fan of cats than he is of dogs.

Not Safe For Work Headcanons !

slightly above average dick size, not huge though. quite girthy, though.

not a fan of you riding him, he says it doesn't feel as good as missionary or doggy but in reality it makes him feel emasculated having you on top of in a 'position of power'.

a huge sadist (shocker). he's constantly spanking or hitting or pulling hair.

LOVES making you cry during sex. whether its from overstimulation or just straight pain, it doesn't matter.

really big on choking too.

not very big on bondage or restraining you. he likes to feel you grabbing at him and writhing around under him. it gives him a huge ego boost to know that he doesn't have to tie you down to keep you from squirming away.

bites and leaves hickeys frequently. he enjoys the thought of there being physical marks on your body that show that you're his.

very vocal in bed. he's not necessarily *loud* perse but he talks and groans a ton.

[syluslnd]

NSFW IMAGINE REQUEST PLSSSS!!!

sylus going with u to the supermarket, but since you've been teasing him all day, he decides to tease back

he controls a vibrator, and everytime youre close he stops until he brings u to the bathroom

(sorry ive been too freaky these days)

sylus remote vibrator

Tags-squirting,overstimulation,verbal teasing

He had been watching you all day, his eyes darkening with each passing hour, each teasing remark you threw his way. You'd been playful, a little more mischievous than usual-flirting, brushing against him, tempting him with lingering touches. Every time he tried to pull you close, you'd giggle and slip away, keeping him on edge, knowing exactly what you were doing.

But now, the tables had turned.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your expression neutral as you follow him through the store. Sylus walks ahead of you, seemingly composed but you can feel the tension between you. The small remote in his hand is your undoing, the vibrator nestled between your legs sending torturous pulses through you. He knows exactly when to increase the intensity and exactly when to stop.

Your thighs clench as another wave of pleasure builds, your breathing becoming shallow. You reach out, steadying yourself on a nearby shelf, trying to appear nonchalant as a couple walks by, completely unaware of the predicament you're in. But Sylus, with his infuriating calmness, glances over his shoulder at you, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

"Something wrong, sweetie?" he asks, his voice a low purr that sends a fresh rush of heat to your core.

You shake your head, cheeks burning. "N-No, I'm fine."

"Is that so?" He steps closer, towering over you, his hand sliding around your waist, fingers brushing the remote in his pocket.

"Because you look a little... flustered."

His words make you shiver and you struggle to hold back a whimper as he flicks the remote, increasing the vibrations. Your legs tremble and you grip his arm for support, your body betraying you. You're so close-so close to the edge that it's maddening.

But just as you're about to tip over, he stops it. Again.

You let out a quiet, frustrated gasp, your legs shaking from the constant denial. "S-Sylus..."

He chuckles darkly, his hand tightening on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"What's the matter, kitten? You were so confident earlier, teasing me and now look at you" he murmurs in your ear, voice dripping with amusement. "Legs shaking, completely pink... You're adorable."

You feel your face heat up even more at his words and you glance around the store, terrified someone might notice the state you're in. But Sylus doesn't care. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers "You've been behaving naughty all day. Did you really think I wouldn't get my payback?"

Your breath hitches and you shake your head, biting your lip as you try to compose yourself. But it's impossible with him this close, his voice, his touch, and that damn vibrator all conspiring against you.

"Sylus, please" you whisper, barely able to form the words.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his smirk widening as he sees the desperation written all over your face.

"Please what? You want me to let you finish?"

you nod, your voice too shaky to respond properly. The frustration, the need-he's driving you insane and he knows it.

But instead of showing mercy, Sylus tilts his head, pretending to think. "Hm... I don't know. Maybe you haven't had enough yet." His thumb brushes over the remote again and the vibrator hums to life, this time softer, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge without pushing you over.

A small, strangled moan escapes your lips and you bury your face in his chest, mortified at how far he's pushed you. "S-Sylus, I can't..."

"Yes, you can” he replies smoothly, his hand stroking your back as if to comfort you but the cruel glint in his eyes says otherwise.

"Just a little longer, sweetie. You can take it."

You're trembling, your knees weak as you grip his shirt, desperately trying to stay standing but it's too much. The pleasure is overwhelming, yet never enough to bring you release and it's driving you mad.

"You're... so mean" you manage to whisper, voice barely audible.

He chuckles again, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. "Maybe" he admits, his voice softening slightly. "But you like it, don't you?"

You don't respond, unable to form a coherent thought. The only thing running through your mind is the unbearable tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

Just as the wave of pleasure threatens to crash over you, Sylus suddenly flicks the remote again, turning the vibrator off just before you can finish. A strangled gasp escapes your throat, and your legs nearly give out from the frustration but he's quick, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to keep you from collapsing.

"Not yet, kitten" he whispers in your ear, his voice low and dark, sending a fresh shiver down your spine.

Your body trembles, desperate for release but he doesn't give you a moment to recover. Instead, Sylus scoops you up effortlessly, carrying you through the store with a purpose that makes your heart race.

Every step has you blushing furiously, your mind a haze of want and embarrassment.

He pushes open the door to a private bathroom, kicking it shut behind him before pressing you against the wall. His body cages yours in, one hand lifting your arms above your head, pinning them in place. You whimper softly, the air thick with anticipation, the weight of his gaze on you making it impossible to think.

"S-Sylus..." you manage to gasp but he only smirks, holding up the remote with his free hand.

"You've been teasing me all day, sweetie" he murmurs, eyes gleaming with dark intent.

"Did you really think I was going to let you off that easy?"

Before you can respond, the vibrator comes to life again, buzzing to its highest setting and your body jerks in his hold. Your back arches against the cold wall, your head falling back as the intense sensations wash over you. This time, he doesn't stop.

Your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the relentless pleasure. The tension inside you builds faster than before, your body completely at his mercy as you squirm beneath him, your wrists straining against his grip.

"You can come now" Sylus whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice thick with amusement. "Go ahead, kitten."

And you do. The orgasm rips through you, more intense than anything before, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you let out a breathless moan. But even as the pleasure crashes over you, Sylus doesn't stop.

The vibrator keeps going, sending aftershocks of pleasure rippling through you, too much and not enough at the same time.

"S-Sylus, please..." you whimper, but he only tightens his grip on your wrists, his body pressing even closer to yours, holding you in place.

"Look at you" he purrs, watching you with a wicked smile. "You're so pretty when you're all pink and trembling like this. Didn't I tell you you'd pay for teasing me?"

Your head spins, your body wracked with overstimulation but he's unrelenting. Every time you think you've had enough, the vibrations keep you teetering on the edge, pushing you further than you ever thought possible.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you writhe against him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. But Sylus only leans in closer, his lips brushing softly over yours as he whispers, "You wanted to be naughty, sweetie. Now you'll take everything | give you."

"Sylus... please... turn it off" you plead breathlessly, your voice barely a whisper as the relentless vibrations wrack your body.

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably, your thighs slick with the evidence of your pleasure. But he's not listening—no, he's savoring every moment of your torment, his eyes dark with amusement as he watches you writhe against the wall.

A low, mocking chuckle escapes his lips and he tilts his head, leaning in close enough for his lips to ghost over your neck. "Turn it off?" he echoes, his tone dripping with cruel amusement. "Why should I? You're the one who teased me all day, sweetie. This is your fault."

You whimper, shaking your head as your body jerks with each pulse of the vibrator. "I-I can't... it's too much..."

"Oh, it's too much now?" Sylus smirks, his hand still firmly holding the remote. "You were so bold earlier, kitten but now look at you." He brushes a thumb over your flushed cheek, his touch almost tender but his words are anything but. "Shaking, helpless, begging me to stop. You're adorable."

Your body trembles violently, your legs barely able to hold you up. Every nerve feels like it's on fire, the overstimulation pushing you to a breaking point. You let out another desperate moan, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the intense sensations build and build, becoming unbearable.

"S-Sylus, please!" you beg again, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation becomes too much to handle. But he just grins, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

"You can beg all you want" he purrs, pressing the vibrator even harder against you "but I think you've got one more in you, sweetie. Let's see how far you can go."

That's when it happens. The overwhelming pressure finally pushes you past the point of no return. Your body spasms and with a loud, helpless cry, you feel yourself gush uncontrollably, your release splattering down your legs and soaking your panties. The sheer intensity of it makes your entire body tremble and you slump against the wall, barely able to stay standing as the waves of pleasure ripple through you.

For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of your labored breathing, the wetness dripping down your thighs a stark reminder of just how far he's pushed you. But Sylus?

He's far from finished.

"Well, well, well" he drawls, his voice thick with mockery, "look at the mess you made, kitten." His eyes roam over your trembling form and you feel the weight of his gaze, both embarrassed and completely at his mercy. "Did you just squirt all over yourself?"

You bite your lip, too ashamed to respond but Sylus isn't about to let it slide. His fingers trail down your quivering thigh, collecting the evidence of your release, and he holds it up, glancing at the wetness coating his fingers with a wicked grin.

"You really couldn't help yourself, could you?" he teases, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're trembling like a little leaf, squirting all over the place... How cute."

You bury your face in your arm, too mortified to meet his gaze, but Sylus doesn't let you hide for long. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't be shy, sweetie. I think you enjoyed that more than you're willing to admit." He presses his lips to the side of your neck, kissing you softly, but the cruel amusement never leaves his voice.

"You're so sensitive... so easy to break."

His teasing only makes the humiliation burn hotter, and you feel another wave of pleasure building again, despite your body's exhaustion. "Sylus, please..." you whisper, your voice trembling.

But he just chuckles, pulling back to look at you with that familiar smugness. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before teasing me all day. Or maybe you like being punished this way, hm?"

His words hang in the air, his relentless teasing pulling you deeper into the haze of overstimulation. And Sylus? He shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

It Only Takes One

Jason has never felt more useless in his life. There's a gun to your head, and all he can do is watch. ~1.2k words

You're kneeling in front of him. Any other time, he would be fighting the heat that threatens to rise to his face. Any other time, he would be reaching out to cup the back of your head, eager to guide you closer. But it's not any other time. There's a gun pressed to where Jason's fingers should be on your scalp, and Jason feels cold.

The armor of his Red Hood gear is too tight. He can't tell what your expression is under your domino mask. He wonders if you're scared. It would be worse if you weren't, if you trust him enough to save you.

He doesn't hear most of Falcone's speech, he's too busy desperately thinking of a way to save you. He can't seem to come up with one. The cold metal of the gun is against your head and he's halfway across the room from you. He doesn't know how to save you.

Falcone shoves the barrel of the gun against your head. It takes every inch of Jason's self-control not to lurch forward. "You really thought there wouldn't be consequences for burning down my warehouses, did you," Falcone asks, smug and confident.

"I'll admit the two of you have been a real problem for me," he continues, nudging your leg with his foot in feigned disgust. He looks up from you to meet Red Hood's gaze, "But it only takes one good bullet to deal with issues like this."

Jason does surge forward at that, and the henchmen at either side of him force him back down to his knees.

Falcone just laughs. "Ah, ah, hot shot," he knocks back the safety and Jason's ears start to ring, "wouldn't want your partner to spill their brains everywhere. Not when we haven't had any real fun."

You still look so calm. Even as he thrashes and writhes against the men holding him down, you're kneeling like there's not a thing wrong. Like your life doesn't hang in the balance, like just one twitch of Falcones finger wouldn't take away the person Jason needs most.

All his training, all his skills and reflexes, all has come down to nothing. Because he can't save you. He can't stop the cruel smiles that form on the thugs around you. He can't find a way to cross the room and get to you before the trigger gets pulled.

"Don't shoot," he snaps out, all the panic and fear he's feeling filtered out through the helmet in a false bravado, "Aren't they more useful alive?"

Falcone scoffs and kicks you again, "Neither of you are useful."

"I could be," Jason promises. He could be. He could be anything to keep you safe, "I used to run more territory in Gotham than you've ever seen. I have an in with The Bat. I'm the best at what I do, and you know it."

Interest speaks in Falcones' eyes. Good. He should be focused on Red Hood. He should be lowering that gun a fraction of an inch. He should consider everything Jason would do for you. The lines he would cross. The people he'd hurt. He'd change the world to get you home safe.

Falcone lowers the gun completely. Jason wants to be relieved, but you still have other guns trained on you. You're still in danger.

Falcone takes a step closer to him, "Alright, Hood, I'm in a good mood tonight. So, let's make a deal. You tell me who Batman is, maybe do me a few favors, and you and your partner are free to go."

"They leave first, and then we talk," Jason counters. As if he'd risk you getting shot.

Faclone tuts and points his gun back towards you, "That's not how this works, son."

Red Hood stiffens. He doesn't feel like a hero right now, he rarely ever does. But in this moment, he's weak. Pathetic. He has one chance to keep you safe, and he's going to take it. Jason opens his mouth to speak.

Glass shatters and smoke fills the room. Instinct kicks in and Jason's thrown off the men holding him down before Falcone even has a chance to bark out orders. Nothing else matters but getting his hands on you.

There's yelling. None he recognizes. He breaks more bones than he has in weeks. Blood splatters onto his armor.

When the smoke finally starts to clear, Jason scans the room desperately. Every single goon is knocked unconscious on the floor. Falcone's in handcuffs, limp on the floor.

He's lucky that Red Robin and Spoiler got to him first. Jason is more than inclined to remind him why Red Hood was the most powerful crime lord Gotham's ever known.

"Hey-" your voice cuts into his darker thoughts. Jason doesn't hesitate to move towards you and grab your waist with both hands, tugging you against him.

He scans your face, "Are you hurt?" He's frantic, his hands hold you just a little too tight, he's crowding your space. Jason's aware of all of this, but he only pulls you closer.

"I'm okay. I'm not hurt. Are you?" You say, pressing your hands to the leather of his jacket.

His shoulders slump and he drops his head to rest his face plate against your forehead, "I'm– fine." He takes a moment, a selfish minute to focus on your breathing.

He pulls back to nod towards Spoiler and Red Robin, "We're leaving." Jason doesn't bother to check if they acknowledge him, only pulls you along to the balcony.

He's more shaken than he wants to admit. He needs to get both of you out of here, somewhere safe. You follow him willingly, don't say a word until he's led you all the way home to your apartment.

You don't try to talk him out of anything, not when he pulls you onto his lap and holds you close. You let him toss his helmet to the ground and hide his face in your shoulder.

Jason's not sure how long it stays like that. Your armor digs into his skin. He's sure his own suit is doing the same. You play with the ends of his hair. He tries to keep his heartbeat steady.

Jason nearly convinces himself that both of you are safe. That it's going to be okay. He almost believes it until you speak up.

"Were you going to tell him?" You ask quietly, so softly he might have missed it if his every sense wasn't trained on you.

"Tell him?" He mumbles in your neck. Jason knows exactly what you're talking about. But he's stalling. There's no way to really answer.

You don't respond. He doesn't answer.

Of course, he was going to tell him. Of course, he was going to put everyone they've ever cared about or loved in danger.

You know that. You have to know that if you don't ask again. There's not a thing he wouldn't give to keep you alive, to keep you happy and healthy and safe.

He'd trade any secret, commit any atrocity, betray everyone who ever trusted him, all for you. But how can he put that into words? He can't. Doesn't know how. And you don't deserve the burden of that. He can't lay something so heavy at your feet.

He holds you tighter instead. The silence is answer enough.