#I want to cry because if I start writing something like this then I’ll just start watching romcoms again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

humanjarvis · 2 months ago

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caught in a lie

synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.

tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader word count: 3.9k

a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure

As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something.

You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.

“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”

As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.

“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”

“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”

At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest.

Caleb.

Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home.

Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.

Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled.

7 Unread messages

4 Missed calls

3 New voicemails

Fuck.

“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”

“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”

Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.

He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think.

As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”

“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.”

“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”

When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.”

But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.”

She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”

"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you.

In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend.

Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.

You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone.

Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.

“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”

Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”

The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her.

“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.

The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom.

When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving.

“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.

“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”

“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”

“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts.

“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs.

Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks.

Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”

As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—

Your phone rings.

You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him.

The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.

“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”

At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower.

“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”

You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied.

Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you.

“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”

His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”

With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss.

“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him.

When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”

He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk.

Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.”

He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air.

With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses.

Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress.

“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core.

An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”

Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole.

A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you.

One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt.

Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace.

All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”

You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.”

You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”

You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion.

“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry.

“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.”

You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs.

“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you.

Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease.

When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?”

As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.

“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.

“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!”

“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”

Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders.

At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”

You do it.

When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.

Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say.

Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.

“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.

“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule.

“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.

“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers.

As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.

But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him.

“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—”

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.

“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script.

“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions.

“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”

“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call.

For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin.

Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again.

“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does.

As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once.

Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.”

“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying.

At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him.

Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.”

Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt.

With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”

“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”

He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.”

When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him.

At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.

#iris writes #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #caleb x reader #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads #lads x reader #caleb smut #lads smut

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bunnis-monsters · 1 month ago

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Incubus Husband Angst(GOOD END)

Pt1

WK: 1.7k

warning: mentions of a womb tattoo, breeding, make up sex, tail use

A/N: the yandere and no forgiveness ending will only be available to my kofi members! I’ll post a link to each ending when I finish writing them ^^

It was later in the evening, and you were just getting home from work. The day felt like it went on forever, and not just because your boss was being hard on you for missing a few days of work.

No, you couldn't get your mind off of your husband... if you could even call him that still. Your entire heart ached every time you pictured his smiling face in your mind, and it made focusing on your tasks nearly impossible.

Seeing his things littered across your apartment, or smelling his perfume in your car as you drove home was just another reminder of what had happened.

At times you wondered if you had been too harsh... and then you remembered his words. The heartbreak suddenly turned into fury, making your hands clench around the wheel before you settled back into an emptiness that threatened to consume you.

Did you still love him?

That question was something you didn't even want to answer. You knew you did, after everything not only did you love him, you adored him. He had made you feel beautiful after years of hating yourself and others too.

Why did he have to do the very thing that made you dislike yourself all over again?

Jealousy... what an ugly emotion. All your life you had always been jealous. Jealous of other women, of the way they looked themselves in the mirror with a smile instead of contempt, of how they were able to love someone without being looked at with disgust…

He had made you forget what jealousy even was for a while. His eyes were always on you, and you even thought that you were all he wanted.

Then he started flirting with other women, always sending you a knowing look. Even if you knew he was just trying to make you jealous, you still felt hurt and... ugly. Every woman he flirted with was perfectly thin, beautiful, and looked nothing like you.

What if he really was into them?

As you pulled into your driveway, you raised an eyebrow when you noticed your front door was ajar. You could have sworn you closed and locked it… but you had been super forgetful as of late.

Since you sent him away…

“Must’ve forgotten…” you murmured, setting down your bag and walking in. It was dark, which wasn’t unusual. Lucian left all the lights off besides the one in your bedroom when you weren’t home. He didn’t want to make the light bill go up…

Lucian wasn’t there anymore, though. So you didn’t expect your bedroom light to be on when you walked in…

Not only was the light on, but on your bed was the one person you wanted to see the most, and yet dreaded speaking with.

“Lucian? What are you doing here?”

He flinched when you used his full name. For most of your relationship, you called him Luci. “Don’t be angry, love, I just wanted to talk.”

Your heart thumped against your ribcage. He was here, his soft lilac colored hair tied back so you could get a good look at his face.

Lucian was even paler than he usually was, his golden eyes a bit puffy and red. Had he been crying?

“Not much to talk about…” you murmured, hanging up your coat. “You’re single again, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. Go talk to all the women you want.”

Lucian clutched his chest, as if your words had hurt his heart. “(Name)… please, don’t say that. You can’t just end things like this.”

“I already did, Lucian. You just don’t know how to take a hint.”

The incubus stood, his tail swaying in either annoyance or anxiety. “Please, before you kick me out… just allow me to talk. All I ask for is five minutes of your time…”

He reached out and held your hands in his, squeezing gently. A shiver went up your spine when his skin made contact with yours.

“2 minutes, alright?”

You didn’t miss the way he perked up when he noticed your flustered appearance, but he didn’t comment on it.

Lucian took a moment to compose himself before he began. “(Name)… I want to apologize. I hurt you and what I did, talking to that girl and teasing you… it was stupid.”

It took everything in you to keep your eyes on his face. You wanted to turn away and cry just from him mentioning what happened…

“…”

He sighed, his tail drooping. “Being apart from you… it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to experience. I…”

His eyebrows knit together, tears threatening to spill from his watery yellow eyes. “I love you more than anything, I’d never cheat on you, ever. Flirting and trying to get you jealous… It was selfish of me to not even think about how that could hurt you. Not just this time, but every other time, too.”

The two of you were quiet for a moment. Lucian’s tail swayed nervously, his claws clicking together as he waited for your answer.

When you looked over his face, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the slight redness to them. It was clear he had been crying, and your husband wasn’t getting much sleep either.

In the past, he had always clung to you desperately when it was time for bed, nuzzling and cuddling into you. The sudden lack of your warmth during bedtime probably left him feeling cold and tired…

A rumble came from his belly, and he clutched his belly with a wince. That meant he hadn’t been with anyone while he was gone!

Your eyes widened at the realization. He had gone without sex, unable to eat or sleep without his wife near.

Your insecurities slowly started to melt away, the jealousy ling forgotten about. “… I forgive you, Luci.”

That broke the dam, and he couldn’t hold back his tears. Lucian sobbed as he spring forward, wrapping his arms around you. Kisses were left along your face and neck as he blubbered.

“Th-thank you… thank you so much, my love. God, I missed you…”

You simply hugged him back, playing with his long black hair. He was starving, and you missed him too, so you smiled when his tail moved up your skirt and pressed against your panties.

He bit down on your neck, growling lightly. Lucian needed to fuck you, he hadn’t eaten in a week at this point.

It didn’t take long for him to lift you into his arms and carry you to bed. Some hot make up sex would do both of you some good.

“I love you more than anything…” he said between kisses, his tail rubbing against your wet panties. “You’re the only one I want to make love to, the only one I feel anything for…”

That was truly an honor. Incubi and succubi were incredibly careful with who they chose to become mates with.

Once mated with someone, they could no longer gain sustenance from other people, and were tied to them for the rest of their partner’s life.

Lucian’s tail slipped past the damp fabric and began rubbing against your clit, his tongue tangling with yours. He was desperate for you, his cock already leaking precum onto your belly.

“Beautiful…” he cooed, squishy your plump hips and soft tummy. “Don’t you ever doubt that, love. I chose you…”

You let out a breathy moan as his mouth latched onto your nipple, suckling eagerly as his tail pushed into your needy cunt. It wriggled around inside of you, making you cry out in pleasure.

“L-Luci!”

He placed his hand over your womb, smiling down at you as a womb tattoo was placed there. It was one of his powers as an incubus.

You had played around with them before, but the effect began immediately.

“This one enhances your pleasure and makes you more fertile…”

Lucian nuzzled his face against your neck, the slight movement causing you to cum around his tail. “That’s my girl, I’m gonna make it all up to you…”

He pulled his tail out, letting you suck on it and clean off your juices while he positioned his cock at your hole. It was clenching around nothing, and he was happy to know you were ready to be fucked.

“Shh, baby…”

He caressed your cheek as tears of pleasure fell from your eyes. “That's it, let me take care of you… it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Lucian moved his hips slowly, fucking into you just enough to relieve some of the pressure building in your belly, but not enough to completely satisfy you just yet.

“Mmm, you look so cute when you’re all needy…”

Usually, he’d tease you for a good bit, but today he wanted to focus entirely on your pleasure.

His hands gripped your plump hips, squeezing lightly. You were so damn soft and warm, it made him want to cum inside you and give you the baby you had been asking for.

You came around his cock several times, and all he needed to do for your walls to tighten up for another orgasm was gently flick your perky buds.

The womb tattoo made you extra sensitive, every touch and caress made you cum, and you were getting overstimulated, fast!

“F-fuck, sweetheart… so tight, you’re squeezing me like crazy.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss as he came inside of you.

The night was full of lots of creampies and lovemaking. By the end of it, his hunger was satiated and you were full of cum.

“You’re really ready for a baby..?” you asked, tracing circles into his naked chest.

“Mhm… I am now.”

All he knew is that he didn’t want to play around and tease you anymore, you were everything to him. If you wanted a baby, so did he.

So the two of you went at it again the next night. You walked in to see Lucian in his favorite set of lacy lingerie, waiting for you on the silk sheets as if presenting himself to you like a gift.

“Let’s try again, love. I missed you while you were at work…”

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

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5sospenguinqueen · 1 year ago

Text

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

next.

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user2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

user3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ user4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

user5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

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22•05•22

user6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

user7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

user8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

user9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

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16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @/YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of the tonight show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

user11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

user12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ user1 not even in the likes or comments

→ user2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ user3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

user4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ user5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 aug '22

4,990 comments

user6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ user7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to be writing a romance novel at this time

→ user6 confirmation??!?!

→ user7 we’re children of divorce

→ user8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ user9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ user10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ user11 i love their friendship

→ user12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

user13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

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04•09•22

user14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ user15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

user16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story danielricciardo posted a new story

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in suzuka. moving on to the americas

5,509 comments

user1maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

user2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

user3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ user4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ user5 he’s way too young for her

→ user4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

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19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

user7 happy birthday to the best author

user8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

user5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ user6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

Request are open!

Baby Fever Angst Series

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formulaonecrumbs · 3 days ago

Note

could you osc comforting reader throughout having to have a surgery to remove a cyst that refused to rupture? the fear of no longer being able to have children if something goes wrong with the procedure. the worry of oscar not wanting to be with her anymore and him staying with her through it. from learning about the cyst to post surgery having to help her move, shower, eat after surgery.

-🧸

even if

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

summary: reader needs surgery to remove a cyst and fears the worst—oscar stays through it all, from diagnosis to recovery.

warnings: pcos, chronic pain, ovarian cysts, surgery, hospital setting, fear of infertility, post-op recovery

A/N: i don’t have much to say except for that i’m sorry this isn’t much longer. i didn’t know how to write it, idk why. but thank u for the request as always :) i appreciate it more than u know, lovie. I LOVE YOU, 🧸❤️

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

it starts with a scan.

you’d gone in expecting them to say what they always say: ride it out, take painkillers, it’ll pass. but instead, the doctor frowns, tilts the screen, and clicks too many times. and then:

“this one’s not rupturing. we’re going to need to remove it surgically.”

the words hit your chest like a stone dropped in water. the ripples spread fast—fear, confusion, shame.

they talk you through the process, but all you hear is the possibility.

the what if.

what if something goes wrong? what if it takes more than just the cyst? what if you wake up and something’s missing? what if you can’t—

“will this affect… fertility?” you whisper, barely able to finish the word.

they don’t say no. they say “we’ll do everything we can.”

and that’s worse.

you don’t tell oscar at first.

you mean to. you want to. but how do you explain that you feel like your body’s turned against you? that you’re scared he might not love what’s left of you after?

he finds the pamphlet before you can hide it.

you come home to him sitting on the couch, the crumpled sheet of paper in his hand. his expression is unreadable. not angry—just quietly hurting.

“how long have you known?” he asks softly.

“a few days.”

he nods. “and you didn’t tell me because…?”

you shrug, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “because i didn’t want you to think i’m broken.”

his face breaks instantly. “don’t say that.”

“but it’s true.”

“no. it’s not.” he gets up, crosses the room, holds your face in both hands. “you’re in pain, and you’re scared, and you don’t want to go through this. but you’re not broken. not even close.”

you look down. “what if i can’t—what if i won’t be able to have kids?”

he doesn’t flinch. “then we deal with that together.”

“you want kids, though.”

“i want you.”

your eyes flood. he kisses your forehead.

“we’re getting through this,” he says. “surgery and recovery and all of it. i’m not going anywhere.”

he’s there the morning of the procedure. hospital bracelet on your wrist, paper gown too cold, hands shaking in your lap.

he’s the only reason you’re not falling apart.

he talks to you while the nurses prep everything. about planes. about how he saw a dog wearing sunglasses on the walk in. he makes you laugh—quiet, but real.

“you’ll be out in a second,” he says. “and when you wake up, i’ll be right here.”

you fall asleep with his hand in yours.

you wake up sore and slow and dizzy. everything aches.

you barely register anything until you hear his voice, quiet and close.

“hey, there you are.”

you turn your head. he’s right beside you, hair messy from running his hands through it, eyes red-rimmed from not sleeping.

“hi,” you croak.

“you did so good,” he says, brushing your hair back. “doctor said they got it. everything went okay.”

“okay?” you whisper.

“okay,” he nods. “you’re okay.”

you cry. he lets you. holds your hand and leans over to kiss your temple.

the next few days are rough.

you’re weak. sore. bruised and stitched and barely able to move without help.

but oscar helps with everything.

he sits behind you in bed so you can lean back against him when your stomach hurts too much to lie flat. he holds your hips steady when you shuffle to the bathroom. he helps you shower, gentle and respectful, whispering “i’ve got you” over and over while water runs down your back.

he makes you toast and soup and little snacks. watches bad tv with you and laughs even when you can’t. reads your medication labels out loud and sets alarms on his phone. tucks your heating pad in the perfect spot and rubs your shoulder while it warms up.

he sleeps beside you on top of the blankets just in case you need space, then crawls under when you reach for him without saying a word.

and he tells you he loves you. constantly. when you’re in pain. when you’re quiet. when you’re too tired to say it back.

“i love you,” he says into your hair.

“even now?” you whisper.

“especially now.”

the bruises fade. the stitches dissolve. the fear softens.

you’ll never forget how it felt—the waiting, the hurting, the not knowing. but you’ll remember this more: the way he never let go. the way he saw you at your lowest and didn’t blink. the way he made you feel like you could come out the other side whole.

and you did.

THE END :>

#formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #op81 fluff #pcos awareness #oscar piastri #supportive oscar piastri #oscar piastri boyfriend #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri angst #op81 mcl #op81 angst #op81 x you #op81 x y/n #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 #heavy topics

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dantes-jacket · 8 days ago

Text

Dante Scenario

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: day 9473292736291929 thinking constantly about this man. This idea has been stuck in my brain for so long so I had to write about it

* You are Dante’s assistant. You basically do everything for him. You do finances, cook, patch up his friends after a mission, you help run Devil May Cry, and so much more

* You and Dante have a really close relationship that has built up over the years

* Everyone knows you two like each other and always begs you two to confess to each other. But the other party always says “they don’t see me like that” or “I don’t wanna ruin our friendship”

* That is until one day…

* Imagine Lady comes to Devil May Cry to talk to Dante about a job

* There’s this club that has been having a lot of females disappear and it’s always the same story. “A single girl sitting at the bar and a guy comes up and talks to them, they leave and never get seen again.”

* Lady deduced it’s a sex appeal demon, that is essentially a walking aphrodisiac. It shows the desires of the woman to her then puts her under a spell to control her. After the spell cast the woman follows whatever the demon wants (and that’s just the demon literally sucking the life out of her)

* Lady says she wants Dante’s help with this mission

* Dante brings up how he’s a guy and he can’t do too much to get close to the demon. But if he can know what the demon looks like he can try and hunt from the shadows

* Lady brings up how the demon changes appearances every night so nobody knows who it actually is

* Dante suggests she lead the demon out but lady quickly shuts down that idea because the demon would definitely recognize her

* Dante and Lady go through multiple plans and all end up seeming like dead ends

* You sit there quietly and just listen to them go back and forth. You don’t know much about demon hunting besides stuff you’ve picked up on throughout the years

* Then it clicks in your head after they have another failed idea

* “What if I am the bait for the demon?”

* Lady looks at you and talks about how that is a great idea and starts making a plan

* But while that happens Dante stands up lets out a firm “No.”

* Lady rolls her eyes and looks at him, “It’s the only shot we got. We need to get this mission done and this is our best idea.”

* Dante looks pissed and you get it

* “I am NOT putting her in danger just so I can kill this fucking demon. We still have time so let me think of a new plan.”

* You stand up and walk over to Dante and look him dead in the eyes, “Dante we don’t have any more time. The more we wait there’ll be more innocent women that will die. I don’t want to put anyone through that. If I can help and prevent it I’ll do it.”

* Dante quickly refutes “But what about you? What if you get hurt? I could never live with myself if something happened to you because I put you in danger.”

* You reach for his hands and hold them tightly, “Well Mr Pro demon hunter will just have to protect me right? I feel the safest when I know you’re around anyways.”

* Dante tightens the grip on your hands, “I’ll protect you with my life, I promise you.”

* You, Lady, and Dante all make a quick plan because you have to get ready since you are going to the club tonight

* The plan is to have Lady as surveillance and watching you at all times (on the clubs cameras) you’re also going to be hooked up to a mic that both her and Dante can listen to

* Dante is going to be in the club laying low trying to find the demon before he can get to you

* You all confirm the plan then you go get ready

* You get dressed in a tight and short red dress (you saved it for whenever Dante would ask you on a made up date you made in your dreams)

* You put on some heels, makeup and perfume and you walk into the main area where Dante and Lady are setting up the mics

* Once you walk in Lady cheers you on and compliments you

* You thank her and turn your attention to Dante who can’t take his eyes off of you

* You’re so beautiful and captivating in his eyes, but does he admit that? No…

* He just shakes his head and goes back to adjusting his mic

* Lady frowns and looks back at you. She sees you’re upset from the lack of compliments by Dante

* Lady waves you over to put on your mic and make sure it’s hidden so the demon won’t be able to tell

* After it’s all set up Dante has you test it to make sure it’s working, once the test is successful you all head out

* You’re sitting in the back of the van Lady has with Dante

* As you all get close to the bar you feel your nerves skyrocket

* It is now that you realized what you offered to do and that it’s actually going to happen

* You’re going to be face to face with a demon and you’re not even going to know

* What happens if it succeeds? Will you die? Will it be painful?

* You start to bounce your leg up and down due to your anxiousness

* You then feel a big warm hand settle on your knee stopping you

* You look over at Dante who is already looking at you

* “I told you, I promise I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything happen, you’ll be safe.”

* You nod and thank him

* You two just look at each other for what feels like a century

* Dante opens his mouth but is cut off by Lady announcing you three have arrived

* Lady gets out of the front seat and comes to the back where she’s tapped into all the cameras in the club

* Once that’s good she spins in her seat to face you, “Alright, you’re turn. Dante will enter in about 10 minutes. Be safe.”

* “Okay I’m off then.” You go to leave out of the van but Dante grabs your wrist stopping you

* You look back at him, “If you ever feel uncomfortable and want to stop say pizza and I’ll come to you.”

* “Got it. I’ll say pizza if I’m uncomfortable.”

* You can see Dante’s expression soften a bit and see some stress melt off of him but he still looks super tense

* You leave the van and head into the club

* You walk straight to the bar and order a drink

* You slowly sip on your drink looking around waiting for anyone to approach you

* After about 45 minutes no one has come up to you and it confuses you. Are you doing something wrong?

* As if Dante can hear your thoughts, “You’re not doing anything wrong sweetheart. We got here a bit early to make sure we would be all set up.”

* You nod obviously knowing he can see you responding non verbally to him

* Another 10 minutes goes by and Lady speaks up into the mic, “Someone a little off looking just came in. He’s got on a white polo and blue dress pants. He’s has brown hair that is gelled up.”

* Dante then speaks up, “Got eyes on him.”

* Lady then calls your name, “He’s coming your way.”

* You take the last sip on your drink, by the time you’re putting it down someone appears by you

* “Well it looks like I got lucky today. The pretty girl I wanted to chat with has a drink that is all gone. Do you mind if I buy you another one?”

* You look at the man and see the exact one Lady described

* Steeling yourself you bat your eyelashes and flirt back, “Well I can never turn down a drink from someone so handsome. Do you mind joining me? There’s an open seat right there.”

* The man sits down and flags the bartender down and orders two drinks

* You stare at him trying to look if anything is off. You’ve barely seen demons so you can’t tell

* The bartender comes back with the drinks and the man faces you

* He tips his drink up to do a cheers, you tap his glass and you both take a sip of your drinks

* Small talk ensues. You’ve two talk about your jobs (well your made up one), what foods you like, what’s your favorite animal and so on

* The man finishes his drink and stares deeply at you, it kinda makes you uncomfortable

* It doesn’t feel like the one Dante gives you. His look makes your heart race but the look you’re getting now makes you feel sick

* The man pushes some hair behind your ear and then rests his hand on your cheek

* If you weren’t on a mission you’d slap his hand away

* “So tell me, what is a beautiful and single girl doing here all alone?”

* He rubs his thumb against your cheek and it’s like your mind starts to become foggy

* You don’t even really know what you’re saying while you talk

* “Oh it’s because I love someone and he doesn’t love me back.”

* The man looks shocked, “Oh really?”

* You bite your lip, “Yeah…”

* “Does he have a girlfriend already? Or maybe even a wife?”

* You shake your head, you’re not even in control anymore

* “He doesn’t.”

* The man smirks, “Then why doesn’t want you?”

* You think about it and don’t know. Why doesn’t Dante want you?

* “I don’t know…”

* The man scoots closer, “Come on sweetheart, I know you can do better than that.”

* Your stomach twists when he called you sweetheart, it doesn’t give you the same emotions it did earlier when Dante called you that

* You can hear talking in your ear but your brain can’t register it

* Little did you know it was Dante freaking out and trying to call our to you

* Lady tries to stop him so he doesn’t fuck up the mission

* Dante growls “I’m not going to let her get hypnotized by the demon, and I sure as hell don’t want to listen to her talk about the man she loves.”

* Dante then hears you speak up again

* “Well he’s my boss. He is the most beautiful person in this world. He has such a selfless heart and cares about everyone around him. He works so hard and never stops until he knows peace is coming. He is also so funny and silly. He never fails to make me laugh and smile. He’s also a great dancer. Whether he’s dancing by himself or drags me to dance with him. I love him so much but I don’t think he sees me in that way at all.”

* Your voice cracks but you continue, “I’m not strong at all. His job is very taxing and I can’t even keep up with it. I feel so useless any time he is so tired and stressed because I can’t do anything to help. He’s also surrounded by so many beautiful and strong women that I get outshined in every single way. He never compliments my looks and I just don’t think I’m his type.”

* The man brings your focus back to him, “Do you want me to help you?” He pulls his hand away and it’s like you’re in a deeper trance

* You nod and let out a meek “Yes.”

* The man smirks, “Okay what’s this man’s name?”

* “Dante…”

* Dante’s voice hitches. He feels like he can’t breathe. His heart is racing and he reaches for his chest to hold it

* He clenches his chest and heaves, How can he let you think he doesn’t love you? How did he mess up so fucking bad that you think you’re not special? You’re the most important person in the world to him. You’re so smart, kind, caring, funny, and absolutely gorgeous. He couldn’t compliment you earlier because he couldn’t find the words to describe how beautiful you are.

* Lady yells his name over the mic, “You idiot try and talk to her to see if we can get her out of the trance so she doesn’t get taken.”

* Dante frantically calls out your name

* He sees you and watches you start to follow the demon

* “Baby please, that’s not me. Don’t let him manipulate you. I promise you, I will take you out after this.”

* His voice cracks, “Just please don’t go with him.”

* By the time he finishes the demon has you in the back alley and Lady tells Dante how to get there and he goes running

* Dante tries to talk to you more though

* You feel like shit in all honesty

* This all feels off, the man in front of you looks like Dante but doesn’t feel like Dante

* His hands aren’t super big, they aren’t rough with callous’

* This doesn’t feel right

* You hear something in your ear again but it’s getting louder and louder

* “Baby- please listen to me. Please let me know you hear me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

* You let go of the demons hand and you mind stops fogging up a bit

* You breathe out “Dante?”

* You hear a huff and your name, “Is that you?”

* “Dante? Why is there two of you?

* “The one in front you isn’t real. Im coming to you now, get out of there.”

* The demon obviously caught on, “Come on sweetheart, don’t let go.”

* You try and rip your hand out of his but it’s futile you can loosen the demons strong grip

* “Oh so you figured it out? Well I’m not going to let you survive anyways. I’ll just devour you right now.”

* The demon grabs you by your shoulders and pins you hard against the wall

* The demon bares it fangs and goes for your neck and you hear something through the mic,“Don’t move.”

* A couple shots go off and you hear a howl from the demon

* The demon lets go of you and staggers back then a flash of red appears in front of you

* You breathe heavily “Dante.”

* Dante doesn’t look back but grabs his sword, you see his grip is tight

* “Don’t worry I’m here now. I’ll protect you, just like I promised.”

* The demon laughs, “So this is the man that you love but doesn’t care an inkling about you?”

* The demon looks at Dante, “You know I could see her memories and feel her emotions? I felt the hurt and pain you cause her. You hurt her more than anyone. YOU SAY YOU WANT TO PROTECT HER BUT YOU’VE ONLY HURT HER!”

* Dante freezes and you can see his attention wavering

* The demon tries to capitalize on this but you yell, “THAT’S NOT TRUE! Dante means the world to me and he makes me so happy. Being by him no matter what the context feels me with so much joy. I’m not going to let you make him think he’s not everything to me.”

* That seems to snap Dante back into the fight

* It catches the demon off guard and has a hard time fighting off the many attacks Dante his hitting him with

* Dante deals a fatal blow and the demon falls to the ground

* He stands over the demon who is badly injured and can barely move

* The demon growls, “You want to act like a hero but you’re not! I’m the hero here, I helped women like her be able to get what they wanted. I helped them! Not you. You only have hurt the girl that claims to love you. Stop acting like you’re some goddamn saint!”

* Dante stares at the demon, “No you killed innocent women for your selfish greed. You are no hero. A hero doesn’t march around saying all the good deeds they do, their actions are what speak volume. I’m not hero and no saint, and never claimed to be. But if she told me to do something I’d do it. If she wanted the world I’d give it to her.”

* He grips his sword and slices the demon’s head off

* “I’d do anything for her, after all I love her.”

* You breath hitches at his words

* Dante turns around and stares at you. He looks you up and down, “Are you okay? It didn’t hurt you right?”

* “I’m okay, I’m not hurt.” You two stare each other in silence

* Dante can’t take it anymore and walks over to you and pulls you into a tight embrace

* He holds your head to his chest and you can feel how fast his heart is racing

* “You really scared me sweetheart.”

* “I’m sorry Dante.”

* “Please don’t apologize for anything. I should be the one to apologize.”

* “Dante if what it said bothered you don’t listen to it-“

* Dante squeezes you tighter to him, “I’m not good with words and never have been. But I’ll try my hardest.”

* “I don’t know what I would do without you. You make every day so much better. You keep me sane in this fucked up world we live in.”

* Dante leans back and puts one of his hands on the back of your head to connect your foreheads

* You stare deeply into his beautiful blue eyes

* “I don’t think you understand how radiant you are in my eyes. You walk into a room and my eyes are instantly drawn to you. Damn it… earlier I wanted to compliment you non stop but didn’t know how or what to say. No words felt right to describe what I thought.”

* Dante softly calls your name, “You are so beautiful. Whether you be in this dress, in your pajamas, in my jacket, or wrapped up in a blanket. Even when you’re tired, exhausted, or stressed you’re still so breathtaking in my eyes. Your smile and laugh is so contagious and I crave to hear and see those two things every day. I don’t care if I have to look like an idiot to get my wish, I’ll do it.”

* “Dante-“

* “I’m not done.”

* “Having you in my arms makes me feel at home. You are my home. Coming back to you after every mission makes my heart race. I want to be with you always. I meant what I told that damn demon, if you wanted the world I’d give it to you. No matter what I had to do. Because I love you and nothing will change that.”

* You are lost for words, you have no idea what to say

* Dante was right he’s never been good with words but you can tell he put everything into this declaration

* “Dante, I don’t need the world. I just need you because I love you.”

* Dante lets out a deep sigh that turns into a laugh, “Thank god that confession was good. Don’t know what I would have done if it didn’t.”

* You laugh, “Even just if you just said you loved me I would have believed you.”

* “You deserve more than just a simple confession. But I want to do one more thing.”

* “What is that?”

* “I really and I mean really want to kiss you.”

* “And I really want you to kiss me.” You beam up at him.

* Dante leans down and pulls your head close to connect both of your lips

* The kiss is soft but is over quick

* You two pull apart and then Dante doesn’t hesitate to go back in

* He connect your lips in a heated clash

* He pulls your hips closer to him so you’re completely pressed up against him

* He slides his tongue into your mouth to connect with yours

* You get his message and let your lips and tongues dance in the heated clash

* Dante disconnects again and goes to kiss down your neck

* “You drive me fucking crazy.”

* He knows he finds your sweet spot once you let out a little moan

* “There it is.” He sucks on the spot which makes you let out another moan

* Before Dante can continue his actions you two hear a throat clear in the mic

* “Finally you two confessed but how about the first time you fuck it isn’t in a dirty alley. Where I can also hear.”

* You hide yourself in Dante’s chest out of embarrassment and the man groans

* “Did you really have to ruin the moment? Also I wouldn’t fuck her in a dirty alley, I have dignity.”

* “Whatever just get back to the van so I can take you guys back.”

* “Okay, okay we’re coming.”

* Dante steps back and takes off his jacket and helps you put it on

* Once it on he holds out his hand, “Let’s go home.”

* You grin at him, “Let’s!”

#dante sparda x reader #dante x reader

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monzabee · 9 months ago

Text

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?”

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.”

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–”

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?”

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?”

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.”

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.”

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone.

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.”

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?”

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment.

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!”

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.”

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?”

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–”

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–”

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.”

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.”

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?”

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!”

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover.

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!”

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?”

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.”

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?”

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...”

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?”

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers?

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?”

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?”

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?”

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?”

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.”

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.”

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?”

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.”

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?”

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?”

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.”

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?”

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach. But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.”

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.”

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?”

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?”

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.”

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?”

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.”

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?”

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.”

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?”

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!”

“I know you don’t,” he nods.

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!”

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.”

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.”

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.”

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.”

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up.

2K notes · View notes

luvbabydoll · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! I really like your bunny hybrid with the 141. I was just curious how the boys would react to their chubby bunny crying? Like someone hurt her feelings and they find her hiding and crying?

Thank you! Really enjoy your writing!

it starts with an uneasy feeling. the base is too quiet—usually, they can hear the soft sound of you shuffling around, your little sniffles when you're sleepy, the twitch of your ears as you hum to yourself. but today? nothing.

soap notices first. "where’s our bunny?" his voice is lighter than usual, but there's an edge to it.

gaz frowns, scanning the room. you’re not curled up in your usual cozy corner. "she was here earlier. maybe she's napping?"

but simon? He feels it. the gnawing instinct that something isn't right. his jaw tightens, and without a word, he starts searching.

and then—price hears it.

the smallest little hiccup. a tiny muffled sniff.

his entire body tenses.

they find you tucked away in one of your hiding spots—maybe under a desk, curled up in a storage room, or buried beneath a pile of blankets. your ears are drooping, your chubby little cheeks damp with tears, your soft sniffles barely audible.

and oh.

oh, they do not like that.

john crouches down first, voice low and gentle. "sweetheart, what’s happened?" his big, warm hands reach for you, but he doesn't pull you out—he lets you come to him. and when you do? when you crawl into his lap and bury yourself into his chest, little hiccups shaking your body?

that’s it. he’s furious.

his grip tightens, rubbing slow circles into your back as he murmurs, "s’alright, love. whatever it is, we’ll handle it." but his eyes? dark. calculating. whoever did this is about to have a very, very bad day.

ghost doesn’t speak right away. he crouches next to you, letting you cry, his gloved hand slowly reaching out to rub behind your ears. it’s grounding, comforting, and when you lean into it, his touch becomes firmer, more possessive.

"who?" His voice is sharp, quiet, dangerous. "tell me who made you cry, bunny."

the moment you do? the moment you whisper a name or mumble something about someone being mean to you? ghost is gone. he doesn’t get loud, doesn’t lose control—no, he plans. whoever hurt you? they’re about to learn what fear really is.

soap is already on his knees, pulling you into his arms before you can even process it. "och, c’mere, lass. who did this?" he’s rubbing your back, kissing your forehead, mumbling soft reassurances in that thick accent. his grip is a little too tight, like he’s physically holding himself back from storming off and handling it right then and there.

"ye know you’re precious, right? no one talks to our bunny like that." and when you sniffle out a response? when you tell him someone called you slow or too soft or—god forbid—made a comment about your weight?

oh, hell no.

soap just grins, but it’s not a happy grin. it’s the kind that promises retribution.

"stay ere, bonnie. i’ll be back."

gaz hates seeing you like this. it wrecks him. he’s already wiping your tears away, kissing your warm cheeks, trying so hard to bring back your usual sweetness.

"nah, bunny, we’re not having this. you don’t cry over shit like that." his voice is soft, but his hands are firm, grounding. "you’re perfect. you hear me? fuckin’ perfect."

and then, with a careful, deliberate breath, he asks, "do you want me to handle it, or do you just need me here?" because gaz? oh, he will handle it. but if all you need is for him to hold you, to remind you that you’re safe, loved, and the most precious thing in the world to them? then that’s exactly what he’ll do.

#anons — 🤍#luvbabydoll ‧₊˚ ⋅#john price x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #johnny soap mctavish x reader #gaz x reader

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dokyumms · 1 month ago

Text

i'll take the time, treat you like a lady

pairings: the8 x afab!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 616

cw: periods, mention of medication (ibuprofen), excessive use of “băobèi”

a/n: a request for anon! posting this late bc i legit spent the whole day writing a svt reaction just to get a writer's block halfway through but i still tried to finish it and it didn't end well........

"i'm bleeding, in pure pain, and hormonal."

that's the text you send to minghao on a tuesday afternoon. to be fair, it's the truth. your period came in full swing with no warning while minghao was out, so now you're stuck with bloody bed sheets (that are currently being washed) and the worst cramps you've gotten in your life.

normally, you wouldn't text him over this stuff, but right now, you're definitely not in the mood to be alone.

at first, he responds with, "??" but then follows up with, "i'm On my way!"

groaning at the throbbing pain in your lower abdomen, you curl into yourself and wait impatiently for your boyfriend on the couch.

it’s about 15 minutes before minghao enters the apartment, calling out your name as he takes off his shoes.

he softens when he finds you on the couch, still curled into yourself, arms wrapped around your waist area as you sleep.

reaching out, he almost thinks about letting you rest more, but then you make a discomforted noise in your sleep and he pokes you a little.

“bǎobèi, i’m here~” he sing songs softly, attempting to wake you up. you wink one eye open, and go right back to sleep.

now he’s the one groaning, “aren’t you on your period? you need to wake up so you can take ibuprofen.” unfortunately, you’re too stubborn for your own good, refusing to get up.

he sighs, deciding not to test you, he gives you a kiss on the forehead, “fine, if you don’t want to get up, i’ll just take care of you from here. give me a minute.” you cry out in protest at the absence of his warmth, but that reason is quickly replaced by another strike of pain going through your lower abdomen.

after what seems like years (for you), minghao returns with ibuprofen and a hot water bottle. “here, let me take care of you, love.” he says, stroking your hair and watching you intently as you take the painkiller.

he lays the hot water bottle on you, giving you another kiss before he gets up to go make you a meal when you reach for his arm.

“can you just stay here for a little?”

“but you need to eat something,” he insists hesitantly, though he does consider your suggestion.

“please, hao,” you plead, looking up at him with the best puppy eyes you can muster.

you watch as he goes through an internal argument with himself before finally accepting defeat because he doesn’t want to accidentally make you cry.

“don’t complain when your stomach starts hurting because you haven’t eaten.” he warns lightly (knowing damn well he’d go make you food in record time) as he slides in next to you. you laugh, thinking of something to shoot back, but you feel the throbbing pain come back before you can say anything.

you bite back a curse and fall onto minghao’s chest, whining, “when does it (the ibuprofen) kick in~”

“soon, băobèi, soon.” he murmurs, pulling a blanket over you two and wrapping his arms around you. “it’s gonna go away, i promise.” he whispers along with other reassuring words, holding you tightly.

but once the pain subsides comes the emotional sensitivity…

“what’s wrong, love?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you start crying out of nowhere.

“i was just reminded of this video that had a cat in it and i realized that i’ll never have a cat because i’m allergic. but they’re so cute~” you cry into minghao’s shoulder.

“ah, we can get a stuffed animal cat, it’s okay băobèi.”

“but it’s not the same!”

and this repeats every single month.

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moonstruckme · 1 month ago

Note

Hey! 👋🏼 Ty for taking the time to write such eloquent and inspiring fluffy works for us!

I'm a writer as well, and what I've read of yours (most of your marauders in the last 2 days 🫣) has scratched an itch I've had for inspiration! This is greatly appreciated!

I was wondering if you'd mind writing something for Gn!reader and poly!Wolfstar where one of them aren't well (a cold or flu perhaps?) and reader cares for them, convinced they won't catch whatever the other has. But, it inevitably happens anyway and then they're all miserable and help each other through it? Muggle AU or whatever you're comfortable with. :)

If not, no worries! I just love your writing style and it's refreshing!

Have a fantastic day!

Thanks for your request babe <33

poly!wolfstar x gn!reader ♡ 711 words

“Rem.” You kiss your boyfriend’s temple, trying to wake him gently. “Remus.”

He hums, a tired, croaky sound. His face turns further into the pillow.

“Sorry, lovely. Your soup’s going to get cold.”

Remus cracks an eyelid. “Oi,” he grunts. “Get away.”

You let out a breathy laugh, sitting up. “Gosh, you’re so sweet when you’re sick. Aren’t I lucky?”

“You’re going to be sick too if you’re not careful,” he says, though he scoots into an upright position against the pillows of the bed once he sees the soup you’ve made him sitting on the nightstand. You pass it to him. “Thank you, love.”

“Don’t mention it.” You lift your hand, brushing some hair aside to feel his forehead. “How’s your throat?”

As if reminded to do so, Remus makes a gravelly throat-clearing noise before blowing on a spoonful of soup. “Better, I think.”

You make a pitying sound, stroking your thumb over his temple.

There’s a tsk from behind. You turn to find Sirius carrying in a cup of tea. He levels you with a reproachful look.

“You’re begging to get sick.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not.”

“S’what I told them,” says Remus.

“I never catch the flu,” you defend yourself.

“Just…” Sirius sets Remus’ tea down on the nightstand, taking you by the hips to pull you a few inches down the bed. “Let’s keep some distance from patient zero here. Not that I don’t love you,” he says to Remus with a saccharine smile, “because I do, but I don’t need to miss my work party on Friday because this one felt cuddle deprived.”

“Totally understand.” Remus slurps his soup.

You frown. “It’s nothing so wholly selfish as cuddle deprivation. If I wanted those, I could just get them from—” You’re cut off when a bit of phlegm gets caught in your throat. You clear it hastily. “From you.”

Sirius’ eyebrows have inched upwards. “No, I don’t think you could. You’re catching it already.”

“I am not,” you say, but you can’t help coughing a couple of times. “Sorry, there’s just something stuck in my throat.”

Remus groans. Sirius pins you with a glare.

“Get in the bed.”

Unfortunately, despite Sirius’ best efforts, Friday morning finds all three of you sniffling and foggy-headed, each too warm to tell if the others have a fever.

“Two blankets is plenty,” Remus reasons with Sirius.

“I’m freezing.”

“I’m sweltering.”

“I’m going to make tea.” You haul yourself upright, dragging one of Sirius’ three requested blankets with you like a cape.

“Oh.” Remus sounds hesitant. “I’m sorry, lovely, I ran us out of honey last night. I’ll go to the co-op.”

You try not to let your shoulders slump too obviously with disappointment. Or to curl up on the floor, or to start crying, or any of the things you’d really like to do.

“That’s alright,” you say. “I can just dissolve a cough drop in it. It’ll work the same.”

Sirius whines. “Baby, that sounds pathetic.”

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” Remus starts to rise. “We need more tissues anyway.”

“No,” you and Sirius say at the same time.

“The last time we let you go on an errand,” says Sirius, “we found you nearly passed out in the lift.”

Remus’ already flushed cheeks turn a deeper pink. “I did have all the groceries, though.”

“I’m calling James,” you announce.

“No,” Sirius and Remus chorus.

“Why not?”

“Lily said if we got him sick, she was going to take Harry to her parents’ and leave us to take care of him.”

“James invented the man cold,” Remus tells you, sniffling. “It would be awful.”

“Fine, then I’ll go to the store.”

“No, come here.” Sirius reaches for you, wrestling you back down onto the bed. His warm cheek presses to your clammy forehead. “I’ll do it, I’ll call James. We’ll just tell him to leave the stuff outside the door.”

“You know he’s going to want to come in,” says Remus, though he reclines against the pillows again with a relieved sigh.

“Yes, well.” Sirius sets his lips to your temple. “Better to risk a whiny James than one of you keeling over on the sidewalk, I suppose.”

“I did not keel over.”

“Hush, darling. You’re growing delirious.”

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reysdriver · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if it would be possible to write about Eddie coming over and you have cooked a big meal for the two of you and Eddie has never seen this much food. Used to a frozen meal or Mac and cheese, he is kind of scared to overindulge even though the food is mouth watering. Reader just wants to take care of him.

Eddie's stunned when you make dinner for him, and even moreso when it's the best thing he's ever tasted — eddie x reader fluff

warnings: ig just food and talks of Eddie's social status/living situation

words: 1.2k

Your multitasking skills were finally coming in handy for something important tonight.

Tonight’s menu consisted of a main dish, sides, and dessert that you were making completely from scratch. And on top of all that cooking, you kept looking at the clock every two minutes to make sure you’re on track for when Eddie said he was coming over.

Eddie Munson had never been a punctual person. He shows up late to class every day—which is part of the reason why he’s in his third senior year of high school—and all of his friends know to tell him to come at least a half hour earlier than everyone else because that’s the only way they can guarantee he’ll be there when they want.

But he’s always on time for you. Whenever you have a date, he shows up exactly when he says he will. And when he’s even a few minutes late, he apologizes profusely until you promise that you’re not upset with him.

You know he’ll be here at exactly seven o’clock, and it was almost time.

Each tick of the clock reminding you that your boyfriend was on his way and you weren’t going to have dinner ready on time.

You tried your best to rush the process, but the knock at the door caught you by surprise before you could fully finish cooking.

You jogged over to the front door to let Eddie inside—even though you’ve told him before that he could let himself in—and you were met with his smiling face.

He immediately snaked his arms around your figure and pulled you in for a kiss like he was a sailor coming back from a long voyage at sea.

As much as you loved when he kissed you like this—and he did it quite a bit—you had to break apart because you had pasta on the stove that you were absolutely not going to let burn.

“I’m almost done cooking dinner.” You told him as you jogged back to the kitchen.

“I thought you liked me.” Eddie says dramatically, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. “Such a shame. I guess I’ll just go home.”

“This food took so much work. If you leave before trying it, I think I’ll cry.”

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?”

Eddie waltzed over to where you were standing in the kitchen and leaned against your fridge, eyeing up both you and the food you were preparing.

“What did you make?”

“Eddie, do you have any patience at all?”

Your boyfriend shook his head, barely taking any time to think of his answer. “Little to none.”

Right after saying that, he started reaching for the covered desserts that you had placed beside the stove.

“Yeah, I can see that.” You said while swatting his hand away and shooting him a joking glare. “Go sit at the table and wait until I’m done cooking.”

He sent you a flirty smirk before obeying what you asked of him.

“Yes ma’am.”

As you plated up dinner, you and Eddie exchanged a bit of small talk since the both of you were trying to focus. You on dinner, and Eddie on how good you looked wearing that floral apron that was hanging from your waist.

When you loaded plates and bowls onto the table, Eddie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He couldn’t believe how much food you had prepared. It looked so colourful and smelled so damn good too.

You hung your apron on the handle of the oven door and sat down across from Eddie. Noticing that he looked somewhat stunned and hadn’t yet taken a bite, you explained the dish like the chefs you had seen on TV.

“It’s a creamy tuscan chicken. I found the recipe in a magazine.” You then pointed at the side dishes you made to go with it. “And then I made some rice pilaf and roasted vegetables to go with it. I know you don’t love vegetables but I added a balsamic glaze so it’s not so plain.”

He wanted to speak up. He wanted to thank you and tell you how excited he was to dig in. But he was still just so shocked.

Eddie had never seen this much food at once in his life. Especially not home-cooked food, and especially not on just a normal night. Neither Eddie nor his uncle Wayne had ever been good at cooking, and even if they were, their small trailer didn’t allow much room for food preparation.

He was just stunned. No other word for it. Eddie saw all this food in front of him, but still couldn’t believe it was real. Or that his girlfriend made it for him for date night. He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it.

“Is everything alright?” You asked him, suddenly insecure about your work.

“No! Wait, no, I mean ‘yeah’!” Eddie stumbled over his words, only now processing that you were across the table and waiting for him to say something. “It looks good, really good. Amazing actually.”

“It’s not too much? Or something you don’t like?” You asked, still unsure. “Because I could just pack it up for meals throughout the week and we could order a pizza or something?”

“No, it’s not that!” Eddie picked up his fork and eagerly scooped up some rice to prove he wanted the food. “There’s just so much, I wasn’t expecting all of this.”

“I made dessert too, brownies and chocolate chip cookies.” You said, pointing to the dish your boyfriend tried grabbing earlier.

Eddie’s eyes widened, realizing that there was even more than what he was seeing. He didn’t believe you when you said you spent the whole day cooking—why would he? If a delicious pizza could be at his door in 30 minutes or less, how could anything good take longer than that?—but now he knew you were telling the truth.

And now his mind was going a mile a minute trying to process everything.

“Well now I feel like shit.” He said jokingly.

“Why?”

“Look at this whole thing. Jesus, last week when I cooked for you, I made a can of Spaghettios!”

“Well I liked that!” You told him, trying to clear his guilt. “I just wanted to do something special tonight and use what I know. I’m sorry it made you feel bad.”

“No, no, I was kidding about that, baby. It’s great, don’t worry.”

You smiled at him, happy that he was excited about the dinner.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Are you gonna try it, then?”

Without another word, he took a piece of the chicken and brought it to his lips. The second it touched his tongue, he felt like he had just eaten something made by Julia Child herself—and Eddie noted to himself that he should pull out that impression later.

It was easy to tell the emotions on Eddie’s face as he took that bite. So, satisfied with his reaction and proud of yourself, you started to eat too.

With every bite Eddie took, he thought about marrying you just so he could eat like this more often.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction

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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago

Text

Too Late

SUMMARY: Tyler is forced to choose between the career he loves and the woman he loves. After leaving for a chase after a fight with his girlfriend, Tyler's world spirals into chaos. He struggles to balance is job with the life he wants. Both you and Tyler are forced to confront what you're willing to sacrifice for love and whether there's still time to fix what's been damaged.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I apologize that it's taken me so long to get it written. Work kept getting in the way and then I was struggling with writer's block. And then I started writing again but it was mostly Glen himself and I was struggling to finish this. I hope it's worth the wait! I'm working to get requests done as I have time and the inspiration is flowing! Hope you enjoy! xx

THERE WILL BE A PART 2 COMING TO THIS! because for some reason it's impossible for me to write angst and leave it at that.

WARNINGS: None, just a lot of heart-shattering angst. This one made me cry while writing it, so be prepared!

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The hum of the television filled the living room, a soft background noise to the steady rhythm of Tyler’s breathing. His arm draped lazily over your shoulders, his hand resting against your collarbone, warm and reassuring. You leaned into him, your legs tucked under you, savoring the rare stillness of the moment.

Tyler had been home for twelve hours, and for ten of them, he’d been passed out in your bed, utterly spent after a grueling two-week storm chase. You’d stayed up waiting for him to walk through the door last night, running on caffeine and the sheer anticipation of seeing him again. When he finally stumbled in, soaked to the bone and bone-tired, you didn’t mind his muttered apologies for being late or the faint smell of rain that clung to him. You were just happy he was home.

Now, as he held you on the couch, his thumb absentmindedly tracing patterns against your skin, you allowed yourself to breathe. It was these quiet moments that made all the waiting, all the worry, worth it.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Tyler murmured, his voice husky from sleep. He shifted slightly, his head tilting toward you, those familiar brown eyes heavy-lidded but focused entirely on you.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” you admitted softly, your fingers toying with the hem of his T-shirt. “Two weeks felt like forever.”

“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with guilt. “I didn’t think it would take that long. Storms were... unpredictable this time.”

You reached up, brushing a stray lock of his wavy brown hair off his forehead. “It’s okay. I get it. You’re home now—that’s what matters.”

He let out a long breath, leaning his head back against the couch. “Home,” he echoed, almost as if the word was foreign to him. But the way his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer, made it clear that he understood exactly what it meant.

“Hungry?” you asked after a beat, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Starving,” he admitted, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, you’re in luck. I made lasagna last night. Figured you’d need something hearty after living off gas station snacks and fast food.”

Tyler chuckled, his voice rumbling against you. “Have I mentioned lately how lucky I am to have you?”

You tilted your head to look at him, your smile mirroring his. “Not today. But you can start now.”

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll do better,” he promised, and in that moment, with his warmth surrounding you and the steady beat of his heart under your ear, you believed him.

The oven beeped softly as you set the timer, the warm smell of lasagna already starting to fill the kitchen. It wouldn’t be as good as it was fresh last night, but Tyler wouldn’t care. He’d scarf it down and tell you it was the best meal he’d had in weeks, and you’d believe him because that’s just who he was—always grateful, always sincere.

You were rinsing a glass in the sink when you heard the faint buzz of Tyler’s phone vibrating against the coffee table in the living room. His deep voice carried over the quiet hum of the house as he answered. You couldn’t make out the words, but you had a pretty good guess who it was. Boone or Dani, maybe both. You leaned against the counter, straining to catch fragments of the conversation. Tyler’s voice was calm but firm, his words clipped in the way they always were when he was focused on a problem.

The sound of his footsteps moving toward the stairs made your stomach twist. You turned just in time to see him disappear up to the second floor, the weight of dread settling over you like a heavy blanket. You didn’t need to ask what was happening; you already knew.

Still, you found yourself following him, your bare feet padding softly on the stairs. By the time you reached the doorway to your bedroom, Tyler was pulling clothes from the dresser, a duffel bag already lying open on the bed. He didn’t notice you at first, too preoccupied with finding what he needed. You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watched him.

“How bad is it?” you asked finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, startled by your presence, but he didn’t stop packing.

“Really bad,” he admitted, shoving a few shirts into the bag. “There’s a cell headed straight for Oklahoma City. Boone says it’s one of the nastiest cells he’s seen in a while.”

“How long will you be gone this time?” you asked, already bracing yourself for the answer.

He sighed, pausing as he reached for a pair of jeans. “I don’t know. Hopefully just a few nights.”

You nodded, though the lump in your throat made it hard to swallow. “Do you really need to go? You just got back, Ty. Can’t you sit this one out? Just once?”

Tyler turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I wish I could, but this one’s bad. Towns are gonna need us. Javi and Kate are already on their way, and Dani’s meeting us there.”

You flinched at the mention of her name. Kate. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Tyler—you did, completely. He was a good man, loyal to a fault. But lately, it felt like every story he told, every update he gave, involved her. Kate this, Kate that. The team. Always the team.

The crack in your voice surprised even you when you finally spoke. “Just go. Go hang out with Kate. You’ve gotten pretty good at that.”

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and electric. Tyler froze, the shirt in his hand forgotten as he turned to look at you. His face fell, hurt flickering in his eyes before he sighed and set the shirt down on the bed.

“That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his tone even but weighted. “You know that’s not what this is about.”

“I know,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as you looked away. “I just... I don’t want you to go, Tyler.”

“I don’t want to go either,” he said, stepping toward you. His voice was softer now, but there was still a hint of frustration. “But this is what I do. What we do. You knew that when you moved in.”

“And what about what I need?” you countered, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’ve been gone for two weeks, Ty. Two weeks. I barely got you back, and now you’re leaving again.”

He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. Instead of answering, he reached for you, his hand brushing against your arm. But you pulled back, shaking your head as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Don’t,” you murmured. “Just… pack your bag.”

You turned sharply on your heel, heading back downstairs before the tears welling in your eyes could spill over. Tyler’s sigh was heavy, cutting through the thick silence of the house. You heard his footsteps following you, faster now, as he called after you.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “C’mon, wait.”

You didn’t stop. You didn’t want to have this conversation, not when your emotions were this raw, but he caught up to you at the bottom of the stairs, his hand reaching gently for your arm.

“Sweetheart, please,” he tried again, stepping in front of you to block your retreat. His green eyes searched yours, filled with concern and something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t want to leave like this.”

You scoffed, pulling your arm free and folding it across your chest. “Funny, that. You seem to have no problem leaving any other time.”

He winced at the jab, but his expression softened as he tried to explain. “It’s not what you think. I know you’re upset about Kate, but—”

“This isn’t about her, Ty,” you interrupted, shaking your head as you turned away from him.

The frustration in his face shifted to confusion. “Then what is it? Why are you so upset?”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you looked at him, trying to find the words that would make him understand. “I’m upset because you’re leaving. Again. Because every time you walk out that door, I don’t know how long it’ll be until I see you again. And I’m supposed to just… deal with it. Like it doesn’t matter. Like I don’t matter.”

“Darlin’…” he started, but you cut him off again.

“My birthday party is on Saturday, Ty,” you said, your voice cracking as you met his gaze. “In two days. You knew that, right?”

His face told you everything you needed to know before he said a word. He’d either forgotten or hadn’t thought about it when he’d agreed to meet up with the team. The guilt in his eyes was enough to send a fresh wave of hurt through you.

“I’ll try to be back for it,” he said finally, but you could hear the hollowness in the promise. You both knew it wasn’t likely.

You felt your heart ache, the words barely leaving your lips. “Do you even realize what that does to me? The hoping, the waiting—knowing you probably won’t be there?”

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away. “I want to stay,” he said earnestly, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “I do. But I can’t. I’m needed out there. These storms, they—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Don’t say it.”

“Darlin’, just let it go,” he pleaded, his voice desperate now. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I swear. And when I get back, we’ll have a date night. Whatever you want. You plan it, I’ll make it happen. Just... let me go, okay?”

The tears you’d been holding back slipped free, rolling down your cheeks as you finally broke. “I can’t just let you go,” you said, your voice trembling. “Not this time, Ty. Please. Don’t make me try to make you stay.”

He reached for you again, but this time, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him take your hands in his, his warmth grounding you even as your heart shattered.

“I just…” Your voice cracked as you looked up at him, the tears blurring your vision. “I just want to be enough. Just once, I want to be enough for you to stay.”

The words hung in the air, raw and aching, as Tyler’s grip on your hands tightened. He opened his mouth to respond, but for the first time, he seemed at a loss. His eyes searched yours, the storm inside him almost as intense as the one he was chasing.

Before Tyler could say anything else, his phone buzzed, the sound sharp and intrusive in the quiet tension between you. He pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. His jaw tightened as he sighed, the weight of the message clearly written in his expression.

“Boone’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” he said softly, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “I need to finish packing.”

You didn’t respond, only nodding as you reached up to swipe at the tears still slipping down your cheeks. His words, as well-intentioned as they might have been, were a knife to the heart. He wasn’t saying, I’ll stay, or even, Let’s finish talking. He was saying, I’ve already made my choice.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Tyler said, his voice heavy with something that might have been regret. “We can keep talking then.”

But you both knew the truth. He might want to come back to this conversation, but the fact that he was finishing packing first told you everything you needed to know. Nothing you could say would make him stay.

When he returned downstairs, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, you heard Boone’s old beat up van pulling into the driveway. The headlights briefly lit up the kitchen window before Tyler opened the door and called out to his friend, “I’ll be right there.”

Then he turned back to you. You were still at the counter, picking absently at your lasagna, the fork dragging across your plate. The second plate—the one you’d made for him—sat untouched, cooling and forgotten.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer. “Darlin’,” he said softly, his voice full of unspoken apologies. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You didn’t look up, but you felt him lean in to press a kiss to your lips. You turned away at the last second, and his kiss landed awkwardly on your cheek. He sighed and shifted, settling instead for a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the words past it. “I love you, too.”

And you did. God, you did. You loved him to a fault, even when it felt like your love wasn’t enough to make him stay.

“Be safe,” you whispered.

“I will,” he promised, his words like a balm to a wound that wouldn’t heal.

You watched him walk out the door, your eyes stinging with fresh tears as Tyler’s truck rumbled to life. You watched through the kitchen window as Tyler threw his bag into the back and climbed into the driver’s seat, his figure silhouetted in the dim glow of the driveway lights. Boone threw his own bag into the backseat and then climbed into the passenger seat.

And then they were gone. Tailights headed up the driveway and then disappearing as Tyler turned onto the highway.

You stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty driveway, wondering—When will he be done with this? With chasing every storm, every call for adventure? You blinked, and the tears spilled over, hot and unrelenting.

You made your way back to the living room, the familiar comfort of the worn couch doing little to ease the ache in your chest. Your mind wandered as you sank into the cushions, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric.

You thought back to a conversation you and Tyler had a few weeks ago, one of those late-night talks where the future seemed so bright and full of possibility. He’d talked about marriage, about having kids. About building a life together.

But now, as you sat there in the quiet, the weight of his absence pressing down on you, a painful thought crept in. How could he ever be a husband or a father when he barely had time to be a boyfriend?

The realization broke something in you. You wanted that life with Tyler more than anything. You wanted to be his wife, to see him become a father. You wanted to build a family with him, to share those moments of joy and chaos and love.

But you didn’t want him to be a part-time dad. You didn’t want a husband who was always somewhere else, chasing storms and leaving you behind.

And for the first time, you wondered if the life you wanted was even possible with the man you loved.

* * * *

TYLER’S P.O.V.

The rhythmic hum of Tyler’s truck tires against the highway should have been soothing, but to Tyler, it felt like nails on a chalkboard. He stared out the window, his elbow propped on the door, fingers pressed against his temple. The world outside was dark, illuminated only by the truck’s headlights and the occasional glow of a passing sign.

Boone cast a sideways glance at him for what had to be the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. Tyler knew it was only a matter of time before he spoke up, but he wasn’t ready to talk. Not yet.

“You gonna tell me what’s eatin’ at you, or do I have to drag it outta you?” Boone finally asked, breaking the silence.

Tyler didn’t respond at first, just shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“C’mon, man,” Boone continued. “We’ve been friends too long for me not to know when somethin’s wrong. You’ve barely said a word since we left, haven’t turned on the music, and you’re starin’ out the window like the answer to life’s problems is out there somewhere.”

Tyler sighed, long and heavy, before leaning back in his seat. “It’s nothin’, Boone. Just tired.”

Boone snorted, unimpressed. “Bull. You’ve pulled all-nighters before and still wouldn’t shut up the whole ride. Don’t make me guess, Ty. Just spit it out.”

Tyler let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re like a damn bloodhound, you know that?”

“Yup. Now spill.”

Tyler hesitated, but finally gave in. “We had a fight,” he admitted quietly.

Boone glanced at him again, his brows furrowing. “You and her?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah. Right before I left.”

“What about?” Boone asked, his tone softening.

Tyler hesitated again, struggling to find the right words. “I dunno, man. Not really Kate, but…I guess kinda about Kate?” He let out another sigh. “She’s not mad about her, though. She’s mad about me leavin’. Again.”

Boone didn’t say anything at first, just let Tyler talk.

“She told me she needed me to stay,” Tyler continued, his voice quieter now. “For her. For once, she needed me to stay, and I still…I didn’t.” He swallowed hard, the weight of his own words settling heavily on his chest.

Boone nodded slowly. “And you think you messed up bad this time?”

Tyler’s laugh was humorless, almost bitter. “Yeah, Boone. I think I really screwed up. She turned away when I tried to kiss her goodbye, man. That’s never happened before. And the look on her face…” His voice cracked, and he paused, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

Boone glanced at him again, concern etched across his face. “She loves you, Ty. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Tyler said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But what if…what if it’s not enough anymore? What if I’m not enough anymore?” He shook his head, his voice breaking again. “I can’t lose her, Boone. I can’t.”

Boone tightened his grip on the wheel, his jaw set. “Then don’t. You’re stubborn as hell when it comes to everything else, so don’t give up on this either. You’ll figure it out, Ty.”

Tyler nodded, running a hand over his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

The two fell into silence again, but this time it wasn’t quite as heavy. Boone reached over and turned on the radio, keeping the volume low. Tyler leaned his head back against the seat, staring at the roof of the truck and trying to figure out how the hell he was going to fix this.

* * * *

TWO DAYS LATER, YOUR BIRTHDAY

The sun streamed through your bedroom window as you sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your phone. A single missed call and a few unread texts from Tyler stared back at you. You hadn’t opened the messages, too stubborn—or maybe too hurt—to even look at them. It wasn’t that you didn’t care. You cared too much, and that was the problem.

You opened the Life360 app for what had to be the hundredth time in the last two days, watching Tyler’s little icon blink on the map. Still in Oklahoma. Still chasing storms. Still too far away to make it home.

Even if he left right now, you calculated bitterly, it’d be three, maybe four in the morning before he walked through the door. But he wasn’t leaving. You knew that. The tracker told you everything you needed to know—Tyler Owens wasn’t coming home for your birthday.

You locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed, your chest tightening with the familiar ache of disappointment. It wasn’t anger. No, anger would have been easier. Anger would have been a quick burn, a flash of heat that you could let out and be done with. This was worse. This was the cold, dull ache of hurt.

You stood and moved to the mirror, staring at your reflection as you got ready for the party. You’d spent weeks planning this, excited to celebrate with the people you loved most. Now, the thought of facing them felt almost unbearable. Everyone would ask about Tyler, and you’d have to put on a brave face, smile through the questions, and pretend like you weren’t holding your breath every time your phone buzzed, hoping it’d be him telling you he was on his way.

But you knew better. He wasn’t coming.

As you brushed a stray tear from your cheek, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d had with Tyler a few weeks ago. He’d talked about your future together, about getting married and having kids, painting a picture of a life you’d always dreamed of. But now, the cracks in that picture seemed impossible to ignore. How could you build a life with someone who was always halfway out the door?

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as you fought to push those thoughts aside. Not today. You wouldn’t let them ruin today. This was your birthday, and you deserved to enjoy it, even if he wasn’t there.

Straightening your shoulders, you turned back to the mirror and gave yourself a firm nod. You’d put on your best dress, your brightest smile, and celebrate with the people who were here. But as you stepped away from the mirror and picked up your phone again, that stubborn, nagging ache in your chest reminded you that no matter how hard you tried, a part of you would always be waiting for him.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. String lights hung from the trees, casting a warm glow over the backyard, and the scent of barbecue wafted through the cool evening breeze. Everyone had shown up—friends, family, even a few coworkers. It should’ve felt perfect.

But as you smiled and greeted everyone, it felt like you were moving through a haze. The excitement and joy on everyone else’s faces only seemed to amplify the emptiness you felt inside. You plastered on a smile, accepting hugs and well-wishes, thanking people for coming, but the effort was exhausting.

A couple of hours in, you found yourself standing near the drink table, sipping from a plastic cup of wine and watching the crowd. Your mom made her way over, a warm smile on her face, but the moment she reached you, her brow furrowed slightly.

“Honey, where’s Tyler?” she asked, her voice gentle but laced with curiosity.

You froze for a moment, gripping the cup a little tighter. “Oh, he’s, um, he’s on a chase,” you said, forcing the words out. “It came up last minute.”

Her expression softened with understanding, but you could see the concern flicker in her eyes. “I’m sure he wishes he could be here,” she said, reaching out to touch your arm.

You nodded quickly, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah, of course. He’s been texting me. He feels awful about it.” The lie slipped out so easily, you almost believed it yourself.

Your mom gave you a small squeeze before drifting back into the crowd, but the interaction left you rattled. You tried to shake it off, turning to join a group of friends by the fire pit, laughing at their stories and pretending like everything was fine.

But as the hours dragged on, the weight of Tyler’s absence pressed heavier on your chest. Every time someone asked about him or mentioned how great the party was, it felt like a reminder of what was missing. You glanced at your watch—10:03. The party was supposed to go until one, but you couldn’t stay another minute.

You slipped away quietly, grabbing your purse and coat from the entryway. A few people called out goodbyes as you left, and you forced a smile, waving over your shoulder as you made your way to the car.

The drive home was a blur. By the time you walked through the front door, the tears you’d been holding back all evening finally broke free. You kicked off your heels and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body.

You’d wanted so badly to enjoy tonight, to celebrate with the people who loved you. But the one person you needed most wasn’t there, and no amount of pretending could fill that void.

You thought about all the times you’d told yourself it was okay, that Tyler’s work was important, that you understood why he couldn’t always be there. But tonight, it didn’t feel okay. Tonight, you just felt… alone.

And as you curled up on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to your chest, a single thought echoed in your mind: How much longer can I keep doing this?

* * * *

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains as Tyler stepped through the front door. Exhaustion pulled at him, but it wasn’t what he noticed. What stopped him cold was the sight of you curled up on the couch, a pillow clutched to your chest, tear tracks staining your cheeks. His heart sank.

He set his bag down quietly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He knew he’d hurt you—he always knew—but seeing it like this, seeing you broken because of him, twisted the knife in his chest.

Carefully, he walked over and crouched beside the couch. For a moment, he just looked at you, the rise and fall of your chest as you slept. The way your fingers clung to the pillow as if it could offer some comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick.

Tyler leaned down and slid his arms under you, lifting you gently. You stirred slightly, murmuring in your sleep, but you didn’t wake. He carried you upstairs, careful not to bump into anything, and laid you down on the bed. He pulled the blankets up to your shoulders, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before leaving quietly.

A few hours later, you made your way downstairs, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your body felt heavy, your chest tight. The events of last night still hung over you like a storm cloud.

As you reached the living room, you noticed him sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. A bouquet of wildflowers sat on the coffee table in front of him, their bright colors almost mocking in the dull atmosphere.

He heard your steps and looked up, his face lighting up with a hopeful smile. “Morning,” he said softly, standing and walking toward you.

You stopped at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, as he closed the distance. He reached out, pulling you into his arms.

“You look pretty,” he said, his voice warm and tender.

You huffed, pulling back just enough to look at him. “I cried myself to sleep last night, so I’m sure I look like a supermodel,” you said, your voice laced with sarcasm.

His smile faltered, and his brow furrowed. “You cried yourself to sleep?” he repeated, his voice dropping with guilt. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You pulled away, shaking your head, and walked past him into the living room. His gaze followed you, the weight of your silence pressing down on him.

“I missed you,” he said softly, his voice tentative.

You didn’t respond. You sat down on the armrest of the chair, staring at the flowers but refusing to acknowledge him.

Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, silent treatment. Got it.” He stepped closer, his tone pleading now. “What’s it gonna take to make this up to you?”

You looked up at him then, your eyes sharp and filled with hurt. “It’s too late for that.”

His face fell, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if the words hadn’t fully sunk in. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cracking.

You took a deep breath, the words tasting bitter as you forced them out. “I mean I’m done, Tyler. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep having you miss things—important things—for the job.”

He staggered back a step, as if the words had physically struck him. “No, no, don’t say that,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t say that.”

His knees hit the floor in front of you, his hands reaching for yours. “I can’t lose you. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll talk to the team—I already did. I told them I’d cut back on the days I’m on the road. I swear to you, it’ll be different.”

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “It’s too late, Tyler. You should’ve done that months ago. I begged you to.”

His hands gripped yours tighter, desperation pouring out of him. “I know. I know I screwed up. I know I’ve hurt you. But I love you. I need you. Please… just give me one more chance.”

You looked away, your heart-shattering at the sight of him, broken and pleading. You wanted so badly to believe him, to believe that things could change. But deep down, you knew the cycle would continue.

The finality in your voice broke him. He leaned his forehead against your knees, his shoulders shaking as he choked back a sob. You reached down, your fingers threading through his hair one last time, and then you stood, walking away before you could change your mind.

* * * *

A WEEK LATER

The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Tyler shuffled aimlessly from room to room. He hadn’t left in days, couldn’t bring himself to. The walls seemed to press in around him, suffocating and empty. The coffee table still held the dead bouquet of wildflowers he’d bought for you, their once-vivid colors now dulled to brown. Next to them sat the small red box, untouched, its contents a painful reminder of what he’d lost.

He sank onto the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. His eyes burned, swollen from too many sleepless nights and too many tears. He hadn’t eaten much. He hadn’t showered. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Every corner of the house was haunted by you—your laughter, your smile, the faint scent of your perfume still lingering in the air.

A sharp knock at the door startled him. He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away. But the knocking came again, louder this time, and then he heard Boone’s voice calling out.

“Tyler! Open the damn door!”

Tyler groaned, dragging himself off the couch. He unlocked the door and swung it open, only to find Boone, Lilly, Dexter, and Dani standing on his porch. They took one look at him, and their faces fell.

“Jesus, man,” Boone said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The others followed, their expressions a mix of concern and shock.

“You look like hell,” Lilly said softly, her hand brushing his arm.

Tyler let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it feels about right.”

They gathered in the living room, their eyes flicking to the dead flowers and the mess of empty coffee cups and takeout containers scattered on the table. Boone cleared his throat, leaning forward.

“All right, spill. What the hell happened?”

Tyler sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. He took a shaky breath before finally speaking. “She’s gone,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell silent. Boone exchanged a confused look with Dexter, while Dani’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Gone?” Lilly asked. “What do you mean, gone? We knew you two fought, but… Tyler, we thought you’d work it out.”

Tyler shook his head, his voice breaking. “She’s done. She walked out, and I don’t blame her. I couldn’t—” He stopped, his throat tightening. “I couldn’t give her what she needed. I wasn’t there for her. She deserved better, and I couldn’t be that for her.”

Boone leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Tyler, man, you’ve gotta talk to her. Fix this.”

“It’s too late,” Tyler said, his voice hollow. “She’s made up her mind.”

The group exchanged glances, unsure of what to say. Boone’s gaze drifted to the coffee table, where the small red box caught his attention. He reached for it, his fingers brushing the worn velvet.

Tyler’s head snapped up. “Boone, don’t—”

But it was too late. Boone flipped the lid open, his eyes widening as he took in the ring inside. The room went still.

“Tyler,” Boone said, his voice low. “What is this?”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. “It’s… it was supposed to be hers,” he said quietly. “I was going to ask her that night we got back. I was going to tell her I was ready to change, ready to be better for her. Ask her to give me one more chance. But it didn’t matter. I waited too long.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, pressing down on everyone in the room. Lilly’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Dani reached over to place a comforting hand on Tyler’s arm.

“Tyler,” Dexter said gently, “it’s not too late. If you love her, you fight for her. You show her you’re serious. You don’t give up now.”

Tyler shook his head. “She’s better off without me,” he muttered.

“No,” Boone said firmly, closing the ring box and setting it back on the table. “She’s not. She loves you, Tyler.”

Tyler didn’t respond. He just stared at the floor, the weight of their words battling with the doubt and regret that consumed him.

The room fell silent again, each of them searching for the right thing to say. Finally, Lilly spoke up, her voice soft but determined.

“Tyler, you don’t have to do this alone. We’ll help you figure it out.”

Tyler’s shoulders sagged, and for the first time in days, a flicker of hope pierced through the darkness. “I don’t know if she’ll even listen,” he said quietly.

“You don’t know unless you try,” Boone said.

Tyler stands up abruptly, grabbing his keys, his mind set on finding you. But Boone, ever the realist, steps in his path. He holds up a hand, a half-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Ty, you’re not going anywhere like that," Boone says, looking him up and down. "You’ve been living like a hermit for a week. You smell like you’ve slept in a barn, and I’m pretty sure your hair has its own ecosystem. Go take a shower, put on some clean clothes, and then we’ll talk about how you’re gonna win her back. You can’t even look at her like this."

Tyler stares at Boone, then looks down at his own disheveled appearance, realizing his friend might have a point. With a sigh, he drops the keys onto the counter. “Fine.

Boone watches him with a knowing look as Tyler trudges upstairs, and the team remains silent for a moment.

Boone sighs and heads toward the door, turning back once to glance at Tyler’s room. He knows his friend isn’t ready to give up, and neither is he. Tyler had made his mistake, but it wasn’t too late to change. They just had to get him there first...and then hope by some miracle that you'd listen to what Tyler had to say.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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parkerslatte · 3 months ago

Text

One Year

Thanos/Choi Su-bong x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: usual squid game stuff. blood and gore. injury. mentions of suicide. mentions of addiction. drugs. soft thanos. slight canon divergence.

Summary: After an argument about money and debts, Y/N left Thanos. A year later she meets him again in the games yet he does his best to ignore her. During the game of Mingle, Y/N gets thrown out of her room and Thanos comes to her rescue.

Squid Game Masterlist

“Are you being serious?” Y/N asked, sitting down on the chair in disbelief.

Su-bong paced in front of her exasperated. “It was meant to make us more money! You can’t blame me for trying.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I told you when you first told me about it that it was a stupid idea. Not only did you ignore me, but you invested more than you said you were going to. And not just your own money, you took some of mine too!”

Su-bong rolled his eyes and Y/N chuckled. How he could be annoyed with her was beyond her. “I can’t believe this. I really can’t.”

“I can do something,” Su-bong said, a hint of desperation in his tone that he was clearly trying to hide. “I can start writing songs again. I can–”

“Don’t lie to me or yourself,” Y/N snapped. “You have been saying that for the past year.”

Su-bong scoffed. “You try to do something like that again when you are turned into a laughing stock!”

“And who’s fault was that?” Y/N said. “I was the one who advised you to not take those pills before the performance and you did it anyway. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Aren’t you meant to be my girlfriend? Isn’t it your job to support me?” Su-bong questioned.

“I do support you, but I know when to draw the line,” Y/N replied. “I don’t support you basically gambling your entire life savings and mine all on what was clearly a scam from the start. I don’t support you going out every night getting high using pills you bought with my money. And as far as I know, you are supposed to support me too.”

“I do support you,” Su-bong defended, clearly offended.

“Give me one example where you supported me over the past year,” Y/N said. Su-bong remained silent, giving Y/N the answer she needed. “The fact that you can’t even name one explains it all,” Y/N said. “You weren’t there for me when I was fired from my job. When my father was sick. When I broke my leg and could barely get around.”

“I can support you,” Su-bong said, grasping Y/N’s hands. “I can get us money. I can get it back–”

“No,” Y/N said and pulled her hands from his. Despite how she felt in the situation, she couldn’t help but miss the warmth of them. But she knew that what she was about to do was the right decision for her. “I can’t do this anymore. Not only did you continuously lie to me, but you stole money from me dragging me down with you.”

“Y/N, please,” Su-bong begged. “Don’t do this.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. There was a time when they had had this conversation before. Then she had stayed and Y/N was coming to realise that it was a stupid decision. Despite it all, she did still love him. But she couldn’t forgive him–not this time. “Are you begging me only because you have nowhere else to go or because you still love me?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. It was at most a few seconds but those few seconds were arguably the most important. “Of course I love you!”

Slowly, Y/N nodded. “I see.”

“Y/N, please,” Su-bong begged. “I’ll get a job. Fuck, I’ll get two jobs. I can fix this.”

“You are over one billion won in debt!” Y/N exclaimed. “Do you really think a few shitty jobs are going to fix that anytime soon? At least my job pays a decent wage but it is still nowhere near to pay off my own debts which you forced me into. No, I’m done this time,” Y/N said, keeping a steady tone despite the way she wanted to cry out and forgive him instantly. “Please leave. I’ll have your things sent to you.”

“You can’t kick me out!” Su-bong exclaimed.

“You don’t rent this apartment, I do,” Y/N said, avoiding his gaze. “Please leave Su-bong. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

He scoffed. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”

Y/N’s gaze remained fixated on the table before her until his footsteps grew distant and the front door was opened and slammed shut, plummeting the apartment into silence. The moment she knew she was actually alone, Y/N allowed the tears to flow. She knew that this decision was for the best, after all their relationship over the past year had been far from a whirlwind romance. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time they had even slept in the same bed.

But somehow she already had the urge to run out and tell him to come back and that they could work everything out together. Y/N’s hands gripped the arms of the chair, grounding herself. She couldn’t do that. Leaving him was for the best– even if she didn’t believe it just yet.

***

The platform began to move, the number of players in the room was considerably less compared to the first round. She was standing on her own as she looked at the puddles of blood on the floor. There had yet to be someone Y/N had become allies with, the group she was with for the pentathlon were already a small alliance of four and she only joined them because they needed a fifth person. Everyone else already seemed to have their own group apart from her.

It wasn’t that Y/N hadn’t tried. The moment she had seen her ex-boyfriend run up to that voting button and confidently chose to continue the game, she had tried her best to speak with him. Despite the fact that she was the one who broke up with him, it was nice and comforting to see a familiar face, even if that familiar face was high out of his mind every single time she tried to speak with him.

Four different times Y/N had tried to speak to Su-bong and each time he wouldn’t give her the time of day. It irritated her more than she cared to admit though deep down she couldn’t blame him. After all she was the one who had kicked him out.

She glanced at him from across the platform and noticed him already staring at her. Upon noticing this, he quickly looked away from her. If she made it through this round, she would make him speak to her whether he wanted to or not.

“Two players,” the voice called out.

There was no hesitation as Y/N grabbed the person closest to her and began to drag them to the yellow room right before her eyes. The round was carnage as people pushed and shoved and fought each other to get to a room in time. There were 126 players left, only 100 would be able to make it through the round.

Just as the person she dragged opened the door, Y/N spared a glace in the direction Su-bong ran and found him and Player 124 dragging people out of the way of the door before running into it themselves. Y/N turned back to her room and slammed the door behind her just as Su-bong looked in her direction before he slammed his door closed.

Once the door was closed, Y/N allowed herself to breathe and finally relax for a moment. She looked at the person she had dragged. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you when I dragged you, did I?”

Before the woman could even muster a response, the door was forcibly pushed open and a firm grip squeezed Y/N’s arm, pulling her out of the room as an older man forced his way inside.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Y/N yelled, kicking and hitting the man as he tried to push her out of the room.

“I’m not dying today!” the man hissed.

Y/N pulled her arm from the man’s grasp and before he knew it, a fist was flying at her face, her vision blurring immediately. A force pushed Y/N outside of the room and she fell to the floor.

“Fuck you!” Y/N yelled at the man inside.

Y/N glanced around at the clock and panic instantly rose within her. There were ten seconds left on the countdown and all hope left her body. There was no possible way she was going to find a partner and a room in time. Y/N slowly stood to her feet, already accepting her fate.

There were a few people still on the platform either hurt from someone or accepting their fate. Others were still trying to force their way inside rooms and fight for them. Slowly, Y/N closed her eyes. At least in her final moments she wouldn’t have to see the carnage surrounding her.

Before Y/N knew it, she was quite literally swept off her feet. Her eyes opened and immediately recognised the mop of purple hair and she let out a small noise of surprise. Without a moment of hesitation, Su-bong ran into a blue room and slammed the door behind him just as the door locked, breathing heavily.

As the gunshots sounded out, his grip tightened on her as he slumped down to the floor, Y/N still in his arms.

“Su-bong?” Y/N muttered, still in disbelief that he had saved her. She stood from his hold and shakily got to her feet.

“Why were you just standing there?” Su-bong asked, raising his voice. “Do you want to die?”

“I was thrown out of the room,” Y/N said. “There wasn’t enough time to find someone else and find a room.”

Su-bong stood to his feet, his eyes wide. “Why wouldn’t you at least try?”

“Why would you care?” Y/N said. “Evidently from the way you have refused to even speak to me here, you wouldn’t care whether I lived or died.”

“Of course I care!” he exclaimed.

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we’ve been here?” Y/N questioned. “I have tried so many times to speak with you, thankful to see a familiar face, and you have shut me down every single time! Is it about the drugs you’ve been taking? I know that I don’t like it when you take them but honestly right now I don’t care. All I have wanted to do is speak with you.”

Su-bong scoffed. “Now you want to speak to me? What about the past year? You never wanted to speak to me when I reached out.”

“The circumstances were different and you know it,” Y/N snapped.

“How?” He asked. “I’m just doing exactly what you’ve been doing to me.”

Y/N sighed, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. “For once, imagine being in my place. Imagine supporting your partner for a year after their career took a plummet, you start paying for everything. Food, clothes, sometimes even their drugs when they begged you.”

At that statement, Su-bong glanced down at the necklace hanging from his neck.

“Then you find out that they had an amazing idea to invest in crypto that turned out to be a scam,” Y/N continued. “Not only did they stupidly invest their entire life savings, but then you find out that they have been taking small amounts of money from your account too. Now leaving themselves in debt as well as you. In between all of this, imagine them going out early in the morning and either returning high out of their mind where you need to stay up and take care of them all night or they don’t return at all and you spend the whole night worried about where they are and if they are even alive.”

Y/N took a step closer to Su-bong. “Imagine if our positions were switched. You wouldn’t want to speak to me again either. But you have no idea how hard it was for me, because despite it all– somehow I still loved you. You fucked me over and I still loved you.” A shaky breath left Y/N. “So, I’m sorry if I didn’t want to talk to you. I’m sorry if I ignored you for a year. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help you, but I needed to put myself first for once.”

The silence in the room was deafening. The gunshots had ceased and the guards were clearing up the bodies. The numbers who hadn’t made it sounded through the speaker but Y/N didn’t listen as she only stared at Su-bong who hadn’t met her eyes the whole time she spoke.

Slowly she took another step towards him and brought her hand up and placed it under his chin and forced him to meet her eyes. “You always did have trouble making eye contact when we were having a serious conversation.” His pupils were blown wide from the pill Y/N had watched him take before the game. “Why did you save me?”

Su-bond blinked once, then twice as if he was confused by the question. “What?”

“I watched you run into a room with your friend, pulling people out of the way for it. You were safe. Why did you risk your life to save me?” Y/N asked.

“You were watching me? Señorita, I’m touched,” Su-bong said, his tone flirtatious. Y/N knew this behaviour all too well, sometimes she used to fall for it.

Y/N frowned. “Be serious for a minute. I don’t want you to be ‘Thanos’. I want you to be Su-bong. My Su-bong.”

Surprise seemed to fill his eyes and he seemed to unconsciously lean into her touch as his eyes flicked to the side. “I watched you run into a room, I thought you were safe so I entered a room. When I looked out and saw you were standing outside, I ran out without thinking.”

“Did you know that there was a room available?” Y/N questioned.

If possible, the room became quieter. “Why did you do it?”

“I couldn’t leave you out there,” he admitted. “I couldn’t leave you to die.”

“But you could have died in the process?” Y/N questioned. “How stupid could you be?”

Su-bong’s eyes met Y/N’s once more. His pupils were still dilated but Y/N could see his true emotions shining through clear as day. Vulnerability.

“Do you know where I was when that man in a suit offered me that card?” Su-bong said, his voice strangely quiet. “I was on a bridge ready to jump and take my life. So I don’t care if I die in these games. But if you died, I couldn’t handle that. When I ran out, I thought that we would either both live or we would both die.”

Su-bong’s hands slowly moved until they held onto Y/N’s waist. The feeling of it so familiar but so foreign. “I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care about you, that if you died, I wouldn’t feel anything. I tried to convince myself that I was angry at you for turning your back on me. But when I saw you standing outside that room prepared to die, I realised that none of that was true. I still love you, baby. Even though I’m pissed that you joined these games.”

“It’s not like I had any choice,” Y/N shrugged as she cupped his face gently, her eyes stinging.

Su-bong glanced down guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Y/N said, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “Someone who wasn’t sorry wouldn’t risk their life to save their ex-girlfriend who kicked them out with nowhere to go”

A huff of a laugh left Su-bong as he dipped his head down resting his forehead against Y/N’s. “Looking back, I can’t blame you.”

Y/N’s eyes closed as she savoured the feeling of his closeness. If she imagined hard enough, she could pretend that they weren’t trapped in a series of deathly games. They would be in her apartment, her doing her own work while Su-bong worked on a new song, happily sitting side by side. Just how it was for four years before his career blew up and things spiralled from there.

“Vote to leave,” Y/N whispered. “We can get out of here and we can work things out. I know that you said that you…don’t care if you die in these games, but I don’t want to watch that. If we vote to leave, we can pay off our debts together and work things out between us– properly this time.”

Suddenly a warm pressure captured Y/N’s lips. The feeling was one she had missed. Her body fell into his as she wrapped her arms around Su-bong’s neck as she deepened the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist before he turned their bodies until her back was pressed against the wall.

Y/N pulled away and allowed herself to look into Su-bong’s eyes for a brief moment before she leaned in once more. The kiss held a hint of desperation behind it, as if one of the guards would enter the room and gun them down that very second. Su-bong’s hands slid from her waist to her hips, giving them an experimental squeeze.

A content sigh left Y/N as she threaded her fingers in his hair and Su-bong smiled into the kiss. He pulled away, breath mixing with hers. “Jump, señorita,” he muttered.

“I always hated you calling me that,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“You loved it,” Su-bong replied as he picked her up and her legs immediately wrapped around him as he deepened the kiss.

It wasn’t until now when Y/N realised how much she had missed him and how perfectly they fit together. It had been a year since he had last touched her this way and it was as if no time had passed.

“I missed this,” he muttered, lips attaching to her jaw before peppering soft kisses down the side of her neck.

“Me too,” Y/N sighed, tilting her head back as she savoured the feeling of his lips on her skin. She could only wish that they were in her apartment, gradually making their way towards the bed.

Instead Y/N was brought back to her harsh reality.

“Attention players, the game is now over.”

The door clicked and unlocked and Su-bong reluctantly detached his lips from Y/N’s neck. They stared at one another breathlessly. Y/N’s legs were still wrapped around his hips and her fingers were tangled in his hair– only messing the strands up even more.

Slowly, Su-bong set her back on her feet, hands slipping up her body to her waist. The footsteps of the other players broke the two from the daze they were in as Su-bong slowly stepped back, allowing Y/N space to step away from the wall.

“We can get out of here together,” Y/N whispered as she slipped her hand in Su-bong’s. “Please vote to leave.”

The door was opened and a guard stood in the threshold, gun clutched in their hands unafraid to use it. Y/N and Su-bong slowly stepped out of the room and joined all of the other players as they exited the game. Neither of them spoke though their hands remained clutching one another tightly.

“Thanos!” Player 124 said as he nudged Su-bong’s shoulder. “What was that for? If it weren’t for those pricks outside the room, I’d be dead.”

“You’re alive aren’t you?” Su-bong said the tone of his voice shifting to something more distant. A tone he never spoke to Y/N in. A tone that she knew was purely for other people.

Player 124 glanced at Y/N and his eyes trailed down to where her hand was linked with Su-bong’s before his eyes fixated on the red patch stuck to her jacket. A quiet huff of acknowledgement slipped past his lips. “I hope this bitch won’t make you change your mind about playing one more game.”

Su-bong’s head whipped around fast to face Player 124. “Don’t fucking call her that, man.”

Player 124 laughed. “Whatever you say. But remember. One more game.” He slipped back into the crowd of people– significantly smaller than when they had first entered.

“You need to make better friends,” Y/N commented watching Player 124 leave with distaste.

“And you need to make friends,” Su-bong defended as he pulled Y/N along with the rest of the crowd. “I’ve seen you sadly standing around on your own since we’ve been here.”

“Sorry for not wanting to get attached to anyone in a place where I could die,” Y/N replied.

Su-bong huffed a laugh and squeezed her hand. “You have me now.”

“Only until the vote?” Y/N asked, her heart dropping slightly.

There was a brief moment of hesitation as he glanced down at the blue patch on his jacket. After a while he slowly nodded and Y/N let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Only if you promise to not kick me out again,” Su-bong muttered as he threw his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, keeping her pressed to his side.

“I promise,” Y/N replied as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “Only if you promise to work things out between us.” Y/N glanced at his necklace. “That includes your addiction. I know it will be hard, but I will be with you every step of the way.”

Su-bong looked at the cross necklace hanging from his neck and let out a long sigh. “Okay, señorita. You have a deal.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Y/N muttered.

“I know that you love it,” Su-bong said. “You always did. Especially when I–”

“Let’s leave that talk for when we are out of this hellhole,” Y/N said, lightly shoving him away from her.

A quiet laugh left Su-bong as Y/N looked up at him, a small spark in his eye shone brightly. It was the first time she had seen it in years. Y/N’s lips twitched up as she savoured his touch, hope filling her heart for the first time she had woken up in this god-forsaken place. Y/N linked their fingers together once more as they walked through the colourful staircase for what would hopefully be the final time.

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