#I'll help you keep your own story straight

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Helping Vergil With Baby Nero

Vergil X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: A touch of angst, fluff, suggestive themes

Word Count: 2k

(A/N:) A little something for the Vergil girlies! Don't worry I won't just keep writing for Dante. Though most of my ideas I have involve him but I do have some more Vergil and Nero stories in mind so stay tuned! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You hadn't heard from Vergil in awhile, you knew he was busy so you didn't think much of it. But you had been missing him and his baby son Nero tremendously. So you planned on coming by his apartment after work. You finished your shift and went by the grocery store for a few items. Something to cook for Vergil and you and some diapers and some snacks for Nero. With bags in hand you started towards Vergil's apartment. Vergil had given you your own key to his apartment that way you could come over any time you wanted. You had gotten close to the silver haired man the last couple of years and when he showed up with a baby son that turned out to be his, you had become an important part of his life. You quickly fell head over heels for little Nero and he seemed to take a liking to you, like you were his mother. You didn't get to visit much but when you did Nero refused to let anyone hold him but you.

Standing in front of Vergil's door, you gently tapped your shoe against it hoping he would answer. But no answer, so you tried again. Still no answer. You sighed setting down a grocery bag to dig the keys from your bag. In a matter of seconds you had the door open and you were inside. Shutting it behind you and locking it back you took in the surroundings of Vergil's apartment. It was dark and more than a little messy like Vergil had been too busy for common maintenance of his home.

"Vergil," you called a little bit of fear nipping at your mind. Vergil did explain to you what he is and that just knowing him would put you at risk. But you shook your head, you wouldn't be scared of anything. You walked into the kitchen to set your bags down to start searching for Vergil and Nero. Flipping on switches you checked the bathroom and you knew he wasn't in the living room area as you had to walk through it to get to the kitchen. The last place was Vergil's bedroom and it felt like a violation of his privacy but you were too worried now. Opening the door with a creak you saw the empty crib before spotting a sleep Vergil sprawled out in his bed with a little Nero sitting on his chest wide awake and staring at his snoring father.

"Nero," you whispered causing him to whip his head around at his name. You waved and he cooed gleefully. Vergil snorted and you had to stop a laugh before scooping the grabby baby in your arms.

"Hello baby. Did you wear your dad out?" You kissed his chubby cheeks. Nero babbled patting your cheeks with his little hands.

"I'll take that as a yes then. Want to help me while I cook and do some cleaning? It'll help your poor exhausted papa out."

Nero glanced over at his snoozing papa before gazing back, his blue eyes staring straight into yours. You could swear he understood what you said. Letting Nero kiss his papa goodnight you couldn't help but leave a tender kiss on Vergil's temple.

"Don't worry Vergil you just rest," you whispered. Vergil mumbled in his sleep rolling to his side.

Closing the door softly behind you, you carried Nero into the kitchen where you placed him in his high chair. He began to fuss immediately at your lack of attention but you poured some cheerios on his little table and all woes were forgotten at the sight of food.

"Eat up little man I got a whole box just for you," you brushed back his white hair. It was amazing how much he looked like his father. The Sparda gene apparently stupid strong in the family line. You'd met Dante and it wasn't lost on you how much he cared for his older brother. Vergil liked to act aloof but in the depths of his soul he wanted and needed his remaining family around him. It was important that Dante and Nero stayed in his life. He suffered enough, you prayed he wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

With Nero taken care of at the moment. You prepped your ingredients to cook later. You wanted to cook something delicious and easy but if you prepped now it would help later. You wanted to focus on picking up the house for Vergil and that wasn't going to happen if you were too focused on getting a huge meal ready. Chopped vegetables placed in the fridge and meat marinating you got to work. Tossing instant noodles cartons and empty tubs of baby formula and baby food you uncovered the living room side tables. Dusting and sweeping made you sneeze from the dust that lingered all around. You wanted to vacuum but decided to save that for when Vergil finally woke up. Nero cooed happily watching you work as he played with some of his favorite toys. You'd stop every little bit too play with him, giving his little duck friend a funny voice or telling him a quick story. But mostly you just hummed a tune while you worked.

After almost an hour you could hear Nero getting fussy, though you had the majority of the cleaning done. You could leave the rest for later after you made a nice hot meal. Vergil had to be exhausted if he was sleeping this long, it wasn't like you were able to be that quiet while you worked. If he wasn't up by the time you finished cooking, you would go brave the cranky half demon to wake him up. With Nero on your hip, you started cooking.

Vergil groaned, rolling over to look for Nero. He hadn't meant to sleep so long but when he noticed that his son was missing panic gripped his heart. His pulse raced and he jumped out of bed. He could smell something delicious when he opened his bedroom door and the faint sounds of you singing had him calming a little. He couldn't fully sate the panic until he could see that his little boy was alright. But all horrible thoughts melted away when he saw Nero resting on your hip as he played with your hair. He knew how much you loved his child and that you were the closest thing to a mother Nero had in his life. You laughed at Nero's childish antics stirring at whatever delicious concoction you had on the stove. Too engrossed in your own little world you didn't hear Vergil enter the kitchen or notice that Nero was now watching his father with alert eyes.

"Smells good," Vergil spoke behind you causing you to jump and scream. Your wooden spoon flying behind your back. It was only Vergil's quick reflexes that caught it and held the spoon back out to you.

"Vergil," you wheezed. "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

Nero clapped reaching towards his dad.

"Stop laughing at my misery Nero," you whined.

Vergil took Nero and held him to his chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I hadn't heard from you in awhile," you shrugged and went back stirring. "I missed you believe it or not. Or maybe it was Nero I missed."

"That's believable."

"I missed you both. Can't a girl come visit her friend and his charming little boy," you glanced at Vergil quickly before averting your gaze.

Vergil stepped forward resting his chin on your shoulder. He had feelings for you, been harboring them for awhile. He was just too afraid to admit them. Nero's mother had been a slip, their time together a tragedy with a miracle baby like Nero as the ending. It had been you Vergil had longed for, where other's had left you stayed. You had been a pillar in his life for so long he knew he would come crumbling apart if you ever left him. So confessing terrified him, he couldn't lose you because his human heart longed for you and the devil inside needed you.

"You know you're always welcome," Vergil offered and Nero gurgled in agreement.

"I know," you smiled at him patting his cheek. "You're exhausted Vergil. If you need help call me."

"I didn't want to burden you with my problems."

"One, Nero is not a problem. Two, friends are meant to be burdened. So burden me I can take it. And three, I care about you both there's no sense in you two living this way. Nero needs his papa to take care of himself too."

Vergil sucked in a breath at you calling him papa. His blue eyes staring intensely that you had to glance back down to the soup you were making. "Say it again."

"He needs you Vergil. You're all he's got."

"He has you too," Vergil replied.

"He needs you more," you retorted.

"He needs us both. You're just as important to Nero as I am."

"I highly doubt that," you scoffed but Vergil wasn't having it. He could blame it on the exhaustion later but seeing you in his kitchen, taking care of him and his kid, and seeing just how much you actually cared had him feeling a way he never felt before.

"Stop disputing me," he growled. Vergil cupped your chin, refusing to let you look away or back down. "You mean so much to the both of us and I don't care that you don't think so I'm willing to prove it just so you stop putting yourself down."

Nero squirmed, sensing the tension between you and his dad. Vergil shushed him gently, refusing to look away from you.

"What are you trying to say Vergil?"

Vergil sighed, "And I thought my brother was the dense one. I want you to stay. I want you to be here for both of us. Want me to say what I've been dying to say for awhile now? I need you. I care for you and I want you to help me raise my son. I want you to be a part of both of our lives until the very end."

"Do you mean it," you wanted to cry but it would only make Vergil feel more awkward. And the tip of his ears was already turning red. Nero seemed to notice that something was happening and he reached towards you. Vergil was about to tug him back when you opened your arms. Nero sliding right into your chest, clinging to a strand of your hair.

"I don't say things I don't mean. You know this," he said matter-of-factly.

It wouldn't be easy but your heart knew this was what you wanted, it was what Vergil and Nero wanted. So you nodded, "I'd like that."

Vergil was the one to surprise you this time as he embraced you. His cheek resting on the top of your head, he held onto you tightly. He felt like a weight had been lifted from him and he couldn't even begin to explain all the emotions he was feeling at this moment. There was only you in his vision. You holding his little Nero against your side, him perfectly safe and warm. Vergil wanted to do the same for you as he gently kissed your cheek. These moments were the ones that kept him out of the dark. The ones that kept him from slipping back into the abyss that Mundus had created around him. As long as he had you and Nero, he would never feel alone. This was the thing that gave him strength and he never wanted to lose that. You reluctantly passed Nero back to Vergil so you could set the table. With Nero sitting in his high chair between you and Vergil. You talked openly with Vergil but in the back of your mind you couldn't help but think about the future and all it could possibly entail. It had you giddy and as long as you had both of them, it would all be perfect and you were excited to see what lay ahead.

[simpingland]

Req: Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co-star (pronounced feminine) where they are on the set of season 2 and how he is surprised by every performances that fem gives (Fem's character is bad and perverse), since since the recordings of season one he was already staring at her surprised by her actings and now with Season 2 he wants to spend more time with her, plus he likes her.

The Rehearsal// Ewan Mitchell x Fem!actress

Summary: Ewan is a method actor and it has been working fine for him. But he regrets this decision when season 2 of HOTD starts with a love scene, being partner with a lovely talented actress who propaply hates him and his mathods. But nothing is better than asking for help when one needs it, right?

|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|

Ewan watched from the monitor, patch removed but wig still on, your close-up was impressive. One look at you and you could see all the ambitions that were going through your character's mind, and he himself regretted not having told you yet. The good news was that filming for season two had just begun, and in this new season, Ewan had the opportunity to do scenes only with you.

They shouted cut, and you immediately broke into a smile, laughing after such an intense scene. You received compliments as you were photographed to keep the raccord straight.

"Congratulations, that's a good start," the director said to you. "Remember you have a special sequence tomorrow, get a good rest."

Yes, you remembered. And Tom (who played your brother Aegon) smiled mischievously at you. It was a kissing scene with Ewan, with whom you had barely exchanged a word since the moment you were confirmed as part of the cast, a year and a half ago. You only spoke a little at the audition, which was a chemistry test, and he was a sweet, unassuming guy. When he was announced as the official actor of Aemond... it was something different. You didn't interact in the scenes in the first season, his scenes were shared more with Fabien and Tom, while you had shared scenes with Olivia and Phia (Alicent and Helaena). The chemistry your characters were supposed to have was only hinted by the placement of you both in the scene or montages of shots that you only saw once the series was released. And in the meantime, Ewan had stayed away from all those with whom he didn't share any dialogue, with the excuse of staying focused on his character. Tom had already told you numerous times that Ewan thought you were a fantastic actress, but you always responded the same way.

"If he does, let him tell me so. Then I'll be flattered.”

When the script for the second season came, both of you, in your respective homes, had your hearts skipped a beat. Your character would approach Aemond in the throne room in the middle of the night. And there they not only talk, but share a kiss that promises to go further in the following seasons. Aemond confessed his love for your character, and being that it was a story taken from the world of Game of Thrones, it was sure to end in much more intimate scenes. Normal for actors and comfortable for a cast that was so friendly and close. But with Ewan being so distant and serious? It was difficult. You didn't even dare to call him. Nor did he call you. What you did do was call Tom.

"She hasn't spoken to me once since we started filming. I've seen her look at me sometimes, like she's trying to talk to me but then, before I could say a word, she's gone quiet again. Tom...I don't think I should take being a method actor so seriously," he said to the other actor.

"It amuses me immensely to be the connecting point for both of you. Don't worry, Ewan, she's a sweetheart, and very understanding. She knows that everyone has their own procedure. So if she has respected your method, you should respect hers."

"And what is her procedure?"

"According to Phia, she loves to walk back and forth repeating her lines in a thousand ways."

Right, Ewan saw the video Phia sent around the group so everyone could see how lunatic you looked. And even there, after discovering you were being filmed, you smiled tenderly at Phia asking her to stop. What else would he have missed since you weren't talking?

You had already taken off your wig, your hair was loose and your dress had been off for quite a while. You were waiting to take off your make-up when your trailer was called. You were expecting anyone, happy to have any interaction with the wonderful team around you, but when you saw Ewan, the smile must have dropped a little.

"Sorry if I'm intruding. Is it late?" Ewan asked you as he saw your friendly greeting getting lost in the air.

It wasn't dark yet, and the next day's filming was starting early, so you genuinely didn't know what to say to him.

"Well... I have to finish off some of the lines for tomorrow.’

The lines you had to say with him, and he knew that. But since that wasn't an invitation, Ewan understood instantly and nodded.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you...it's been an awesome first day of shooting for you. It's no wonder you're a fan favorite."

That made you blush.

"Well, that means a lot coming from you."

He smiled sheepishly at you, you were taller than he was, standing on the trailer and he was on the grass a few stairs down. And yet he seemed way too big.

"I promise I'll be on time tomorrow so we'll have plenty of time to rehearse," he said, trying to get out of the strange conversation he had started.

You nodded and watched as he walked away, the patch in his hand and taking off his seatbelts. Did he come with the intention of chatting? My God, you'd had a chance to talk at length with your fellow cast member and you'd wasted it? You needed to go over the scene as much as possible!

"Ewan!" You called out to him, hanging almost on your doorstep, he turned with that agility that is so engaging on screen (and in person). "Are you done for the day?"

"I've got to get out of my costume. But...yes, I'm done."

"Would you mind..." you mumbled in an exaggeratedly loud voice for him to hear. How embarrassing. "Would you mind dropping by again to rehearse?"

Ewan stood still for a second. He watched you from afar, so affectionate and shy, totally contrary to your character, and felt a deep tenderness.

"I'll be back in half an hour," he promised you.

You looked forward to it, and you'd be lying if you didn't say that you'd put your make-up back on a bit. Ewan, on the other hand, was hurrying more than usual to remove his own clothes, forgetting to remove his fake scars in the rush that followed him. He was punctual, and in thirty and a half minutes, he was knocking on your door again.

"I really appreciate you doing this, Ewan," you said as he climbed into your trailer.

"Don't worry, it's going to be fun."

You looked at each other for a second, smiling, kind of gawking, which was nothing like the scene you had to recreate.

"How do you prepare for a scene?" You ask.

"I listen to some music. But I want to try what you do. "

He looked at you expectantly, and you suddenly felt embarrassed. Like the girls at the school function.

"So... I close my eyes, and I create a map where everything looks a little bit like the set."

"And what do we choose to be the throne?" Ewan smiled, which made you blush even more.

"Well... "There was a fully finished teacup, with the inelegantly squeezed bag next to it, dripping. You'd forgotten to clean it up completely. "That cup itself."

Ewan frowned slightly, teasingly, and nodded. The next step for you was harder to explain.

"Now, Ewan, I need some space."

He sat down on your couch, script to one side, the bastard having already memorized it all. And from there he watched live what he'd been craving for months, watching you pace back and forth. You read the annotations and your lines.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did," Ewan replied, intoning in the silky voice he gave Aemond.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." though you paced, your hands and gestures maintained theatricality, and you repeated the phrase three more times, all with trapped deliberation. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me."

"What pantomime do you mean?" replied Aemond.

Then your character stopped looking at Aemond to stare at the Throne. In this case you stopped to stare at the ugly teacup. You had to hold back a smile. Ewan looked at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been." Ewan got up from the sofa and approached you, as Aemond does with your character. "It is a crude, chaotic and ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

Then the laughter you'd been holding back escaped, unable to think of the mug as anything else. And Ewan laughed with you, all the tension disappearing instantly. Now he could understand the affection with which everyone spoke of you.

"I'm sorry, really," you said, getting serious again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, this is fun. I'm going to try your method. Shall we close our eyes?"

"That's right."

You closed them at the same time, thinking about the huge room, illuminated by a silver light that simulated the moon. And after a few seconds, Ewan opened his eyes to look at you. Although you didn't have your white hair, or the elegant dress, your eyes were the same, as beautiful and bright as they were behind the cameras. And he had the privilege of being the focus of your attention and having them in the foreground.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered close to your lips.

"That you tried at least" you whispered back.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as sharp as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

Then came the kiss. You looked into Ewan's eyes, up his nose and down to his lips. What was there left to throw yourself? Not much, but with him being so reclusive, with that being one of the few times you spoke to each other, it felt strange to pounce on him without consent. So you walked away, leaving the scene there.

"We can work this out with the director and the intimacy coordinator, if you like," Ewan suggested, a little flushed and extremely sweet.

You poured him a cup of tea while you discussed the romance that your characters might have developed over the years that the series skips. You imagined romantic scenes that might have led up to that kiss and concluded that they were a toxic couple, but possibly better than Rhaenyra and Daemon.

"You know, I love the way you act and I love that I discovered your process," he confessed. "I think the admiration part is not going to be too hard to act out."

"Oh...my process is really ridiculous, everyone laughs at me. I'm glad it at least works. But it gives me a hard time at auditions," you laughed nervously.

"Well, it's true that it's fun to watch. But it's certainly worth it. I don't think you have anything to envy the others, you're...magnetic." He said it with a seriousness that moved you, adding to his intense gaze. "I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to tell you sooner, because I've been thinking about it since the day they put me in the same room you were in, back at the audition.”

You froze a little, so you just said what you felt in the simplest way and with the most honest smile.

"Thank you."

Ewan took the last sip of his tea and before he left you remembered one of the thousand questions you had for him.

"Is there a reason you haven't removed the scar? Something to do with method acting?"

"Scar?"

You touched his cheek, where the scar began, and Ewan understood instantly.

"Ah, gee, I completely forgot to go through makeup. I'll get a telling off tomorrow."

"Not if you sleep on it until tomorrow" you joked. "Let me help you, I love fake wounds."

You stood next to him, towering over him a little, and lifted the thin layer of silicone with the delicacy you had seen in make-up artists. You were envious of the woman who was in charge of characterising a person as curiously attractive as Ewan. He also smelled exaggeratedly good.

When you took it off, you threw it into the creepy teacup from earlier.

"I've almost run out from, the costume department before," he justified himself. You took the opportunity to wipe that part of her face with a makeup remover wipe. "I usually do this part myself..."

"I know, but I like it..."

And while you were stroking his face with the excuse of cleaning it, Ewan was watching your lips, and didn't notice that you had noticed. You pushed the wipe away, stroking his chin, and at the same time, you both pressed your lips together. A strange kiss, something special, sweet and soft. You stretched it out, standing almost still, afraid of what would happen if you broke apart. When you finally did, you looked at each other with a look of confusion, though neither you nor Ewan pulled away.

It was a dangerous idea, he was your partner, and you had been unprofessional. You broke away.

"I think you should rest. I've distracted you too much." Your tone came out agitated and Ewan rose slowly.

"No, it's all right. I liked it. I liked everything. Didn't you?" He had emphasised the word 'everything' and was looking at you with lambent eyes.

"Yes...I loved being with you."

He said goodbye with a smile of his, and you bowed at your door like a little girl. Most of the team had already gone to rest and you barely noticed.

You had to put on more concealer than usual the next day because of the lack of sleep you'd had from that strange kiss. Ewan had kept his promise and had arrived a good while earlier to re-rehearse the scene. You did it without the kiss or the lights, just with the director's instructions and with your cheeks flushed as you exchanged glances.

"Did you practice with the kiss?" the intimacy coordinator asked you.

You were completely silent. Ewan answered for you.

"Not really, maybe it's better to give a first kiss at the moment of the shot. More realism."

"Well, then I guess you've worked out the sexual tension and dynamics of your characters."

Ewan nodded and smiled, which made you smile. Had he put hours of sleep into your little meeting yesterday? Yes, he had, and he told the woman who was putting on his scar who asked him who had removed it the day before. When you returned to the set, lights on, costumes on, cameras rolling, Ewan looked at you in the distance, asking you with his eyes if you were ready. You nodded with a shy smile, and began to act when they shouted action.

Aemond, still dressed and coming from the castle library, walked into the empty throne room to watch you. You walked behind him, in a smart dressing gown, your hair loose and trying uselessly not to make a sound. Aemond then spoke aloud.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did."

You approached Ewan, who still wouldn't look at you.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." You leaned into him a little, as the director had recommended. He was so tall and so tense that you felt as safe as if you were leaning against a stone pillar. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me." Then Aemond would look down to see you out of the corner of his eye, which made your character - and you - nervous.

"What pantomime do you mean?"

Then you looked at the throne, now there was no laughter to disturb you, only the terrible seat of swords before you. And Aemond was looking at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been. It is a brutish, chaotic, ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

After a pause, he turned fully around to look at you, his height becoming primordial in that short distance. In that low light, Ewan's visible eye looked into your eyes, dropping to your lips subtly.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered in his velvety tone.

"That you tried at least" you replied trying to keep your composure. If they knew how hard you were struggling not to fall to your knees at that moment they would have nominated you for an Emmy by now.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as clever as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

He stroked your face gently, something that coming from Ewan was tender and expected, immensely pleasing, but then you remembered that Aemond could never be so gentle in the face of his urges, and you let your own out. You pressed yourself against him, pressing your lips together with all the assurance you had longed for the night before. You could feel Ewan intensify your kiss even more, placing his hand on your neck. All the possible kisses that had been going on in your head during the night were now dwarfed by the kiss that was happening right there. As fierce as your characters, with the longing you had just discovered that you and Ewan had shared for a year and a half.

It was only when they shouted 'cut' that you broke apart, catching your breath and barely breaking away. Some applause, chatter and comments from the team, you could hear little of what they were saying. You pulled away flushed, laughing at the sudden intensity. You looked at the director as Ewan smoothed his jacket.

"Let's look at the shot, I think it was simply perfect, congratulations."

Another round of applause, and you felt Ewan brush your unruly hair out of your face, stroking it as he ruffled your hair.

"What a pity not to have to repeat this scene..." He confessed.

"That's the thing about being so talented," you joked.

"Obviously..." he removed his patch and turned back to you to ask in a quieter voice, "although I'd love to have more private acting classes with you..."

You smiled at the hint.

"I'll give them to you if in exchange you let me remove your fake scars again."

"Deal."

[kpopimaginings]

Jackson Wang - Ride me? (NSFW)

A/N: Got a request for some more Jackson on here, so I finally finished this story I started about 3 years ago!

Jackson had had a long day and you knew this. It wasn't a surprise to you that after a quick hello and a kiss he headed straight to the bedroom. What was a surprise was entering it later and finding him still awake. "What's up baby?" you asked him. "Can't sleep?"

You sat beside him and ran your hand through his hair soothingly.

He shook his head. "I want sex."

You were taken aback by his blunt words.

"You look like you want sleep."

"Ride me?" he asked, giving a pout and his irresistible puppy eyes.

"Really?"

He honestly looked to you like he'd fall asleep before either of you climaxed.

"I've missed you. It feels like so long since we were together and I kept getting distracted thinking about you today."

"I can lay with you and cuddle while you fall asleep?" you offered.

Jackson just looked up at you with a pout and his puppy eyes you loved so much. He ran a hand up and down your thigh.

"Please?" he asked again, his hand wandering slowly higher and higher.

"You are far too persuasive, Jackson Wang," you sighed, causing a bright smile to appear on your boyfriends face.

He swiftly pulled you so were straddling him and brought your lips together. You couldn't help but giggle into the kiss at how eager Jackson was despite his sleepy state.

"Baby," you mumbled against his lips and he just hummed in response. "I'm wearing far too many clothes for this," you finished, pulling back slightly.

It was Jackson's turn to let out a laugh this time, releasing his grip on you so that you could shed your clothes. He lazily threw back the covers so that you could join him under them. That was when you noticed that he was already naked and semi hard.

"You really are keen, aren't you?" you teased before climbing back on top of him.

He just grinned up at you, before pulling you back down to connect your lips once more. One of his hands threaded through your hair while the other splayed out against your back, keeping you as close as possible.

As your lips were engaged with Jackson's, you slowly began grinding down against him.

"Baby," he moaned, "Feels so good already."

You smiled before kissing him again, continuing your movements to make sure you were both ready before going further.

As you finally slid down onto him, he let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

You smiled, letting out a happy hum yourself. "Is this what you needed, baby?"

He hummed in confirmation. "Love you," he mumbled out in his half sleepy, half blissed state.

"Love you too," you smiled, capturing his lips in yours and rolling your hips.

Jacksons breath hitched at your movement, so you continued.

"Let me know when you're close, yeah?"

The only reply you got was a nod as he gripped your hips tightly to keep you moving against him. You allowed your hands to roam from his chest around his body, your hips still grinding against him.

Despite his tired state, Jackson was still rocking his hips in time with yours, his hold on your hips so tight it was as though he was worried you may vanish.

"Close, baby," he muttered, screwing his eyes shut.

You leant forward to kiss his lips. "Good," you whispered in his ear, "Let go for me, baby."

The closeness of your body against his, your soft breath against his ear and the continued movement of you hips timed with his was exactly what he needed to reach his high.

With a grunt as his movements stuttered as you kept circling your hips, riding out his high and chasing your own. After finishing yourself, you pushed yourself up again, looking down at your boyfriend. His eyes were still closed as you softly brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"Is that what you needed?"

He nodded and hummed, the only response he had energy to give you.

"I'm just going to clean up and I'll be back to snuggle you," you said as you got up to head to the bathroom.

Upon your return you pulled on the first of Jackson's tshirts you found and were very unsurprised to see his fast asleep in almost the exact position you left him in.

With a small smile, you pressed a kiss to his cheeks before snuggling into him to drift off yourself.

NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST

[gigabyte-flare]

Pause the Game

[A Gigabyte Flare One Shot]

Summary: You decide to play a video game to help you wind down so you can go to bed. Sylus has other plans.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Sylus x fem!Reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Pet names, dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie

A/N: Part one of 21 Reasons is going to be freaking massive so I wanted to get a one shot out to help hold me over (especially after yesterday's banner reveal WOOF). This is loosely based on Sylus's "Crying Wolf" Secret times; as an avid gamer, that audio rewired my freaking brain. So naturally, this is 5000% self indulgent, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

It's now morning, you begin to make a mental note of all the things you have to do today before the day ends; you don't have much time.

Wake up, go water the plants, collect the eggs, milk the cows, collect the duck feathers, sheer the sheep--

"What are you playing, Sweetie?"

You practically jump where you're sat up in bed, dropping your phone in the blankets on your lap. You didn't even hear Sylus come into the bedroom.

"Are you trying to scare me, Sy?" you ask, rolling your eyes up at him as he leans over the bed to see what you're so focused on.

"Me, try to scare you? Never. Although I am shocked my little Hunter didn't even notice me…" a devious smirk appears on his lips as he leans in close to your ear, "when I was this close."

His breath on your ear causes a chill to run straight down your spine and into your core, the depths of you throbbing in response to his voice; he knows exactly what buttons to push on you. You shake your head, pushing the lewd thoughts aside just as you bring your hand up, pushing his face away.

"Sylus, come on, I was just really focused on what I was doing!"

He instantly grabs your wrist, holding it still for a moment before letting go; his devious smirk transforming into something darker, "you should know better, it'll take more than just your hand to keep me away, Kitten."

A sudden sad sounding chime emanates from your phone, drawing your and Sylus's attention to it, the words 'YOU LOSE: The wolf ate your livestock!' hovering on the screen. You let out an annoyed sigh as you pick up your phone from your lap.

"Oops… looks like you lost. Sorry for interrupting your game, Sweetie," he says with a low chuckle as he stands back up straight, slipping his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "don't I recall you telling me this morning that you are going to start going to bed early from now on? Only naughty Kittens stay up and play games."

You clear your throat, once again willing yourself to not let Sylus get you worked up, "I like to play video games to help me wind down and go to sleep!"

Looking down at you, Sylus raises a scrutinizing eyebrow, "playing video games to fall asleep? That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I think someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes."

"No I'm not! Here, give it a try! It's relaxing!" you reply, holding up your phone to Sylus.

"You want me to play your silly game?" he raises his brows, glancing down at your phone before his crimson gaze shifts back up to you, he smirks again, "Oh… you're trying to prove your innocence to me. I suppose I'll indulge you."

He gently takes your phone from you, pulling the comforter back to sit in bed next to you, "scoot over, Sweetie."

You immediately shift over so he can sit next to you, laying your head against his upper arm as he cradles your phone in his hands.

"So, what exactly do you do in this game?" he asks softly.

"It's a farming simulator; you take care of your crops and livestock each day, but if you're not paying attention, the wolf will come and eat your livestock," you explain as you watch him start to play your game, the upbeat music of the game once again filling the bedroom.

"I can see how you fall asleep playing this, it's awfully boring," he replies with another soft chuckle, "let me count the sheep… one, two…"

You playfully poke Sylus's side, "well I like this game, quit being a jerk."

Sylus lets out a huff as he smiles down at your phone. He mindlessly takes care of your farm for a few minutes before his gaze begins to wander; starting with your hands folded in your lap, up your arms until he finally settles on the necklace adorning your neck.

His breath hitches upon recognizing the necklace, "is that the necklace I gave you for your birthday?"

"It is, actually," you reply, looking downwards as your bring you hand up to gently caress the necklace resting on your collarbone area, "I really like it."

"I have good taste, don't I?" Sylas asks, his own hand caressing the necklace, leaning over so that his lips hover just next to your ear, "so pretty."

He kisses the shell of your ear, intentionally making a sound knowing it drives you absolutely wild with need. His lips move from your ear, to just behind your ear, using his tongue, teeth and lips to mark your skin. You can't help but let out a soft whimper, however, you advert your gaze to your phone in his hand, the farm being left unattended.

"Sylus, what are you doing?"

"Sorry, Sweetie. This spot was too enticing for me to resist…" he purrs into your ear.

"But the farm--"

"The farm?" Sylus sits back up, his crimson eyes giving you a predatory look, "I don't have your undivided attention, do I?"

He growls, turning his body and climbing on top of you while still under the blankets, essentially caging you with his body, his ruby eyes practically burning into your soul as he looks down at you, "you know how much I hate sharing, Kitten."

Your phone, now laying on the bed next to the two of you, plays the same sad chime from earlier. You watch Sylus's eyes shift over to your phone, that smirk you love so much appearing once more, "oh dear… looks like we lost again."

Leaning down to you, his lips hover above yours, his breaths ragged, hot and heavy as he whispers, "the wolf ate all the animals."

Before you can even say a word, he descends upon you, his mouth devouring yours like a man starved. His hands grip your upper arms like a vice as he turns his head to invade your mouth with his tongue, savoring you. In the midst of this, you try to reach over to grab your phone, but Sylus is quick to grab you by the wrist again, pinning your arm to the mattress before shoving your phone away, so hard that it falls off the bed.

"Now, why are you reaching for your phone?" he asks, burying his face into the crook of your neck, "if you need something to help you fall asleep, I can fulfill that role."

He props himself up on his arms and knees, once again caging you beneath him. First, he slips your pajama top up over your head before he slowly moves downward, trailing his lips and tongue down your body as he moves.

He stops briefly over your breasts, his hot breath caressing your hardened nipples before he speaks, "how do you think the wolf ate the animals? Like this?"

His mouth seals itself over one of your breasts, his tongue swirling and flicking your nipple; all the while his crimson gaze is locked on you. You can't help but let out a strangled moan, covering your mouth with your hand as your body trembles beneath him.

He relinquishes your breast with a pop, then proceeds to continue moving downward once more, gracing your skin with his soft lips as he moves lower and lower. He reaches the hem of your pajama bottoms, hooking them and your underwear beneath with his fingers, peeling them off slowly and tossing them off the bed once they're off. He pries your legs apart, looking up at you with an animalistic grin.

"Or like this?" he growls before diving into the spot between your thighs, lapping up the sweet nectar of your arousal.

"Sylus!" you cry out, your hand moving down to tangle your fingers in his silver locks, but rather than push him away, you force him down into your heat, earning you a dark chuckle in response; the vibrations coursing through your folds, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

He starts by flicking your throbbing clit with his tongue, then wrapping his lips around it, sucking it like his life depends on it. The coil of your release binds tight in your stomach and just when it's about to snap, he moves lower. His tongue delves into your leaking hole, caressing your walls as his nose rubs your clit. Your heels dig into the mattress, trying to stop your legs from violently shaking, but your efforts are useless. Your makeup is running down the sides of your face from your violent cries of his name. He lets out a low growl, the vibrations hurling you over the edge. Your release covers tongue and mouth; when he pulls himself away from your sex, strings of your orgasm pull away with him before snapping and dripping onto the sheets below.

Sylus sits up onto his knees, his deft fingers making short work of his belt and pants zipper, "is my Kitten prepared?"

Your eyes widen when he pulls out his hardened length, the tip red and angry, dripping with pre-cum. He then proceeds to crawl back up to you, nestling his hips between your spread legs; you feel the tip of his cock prod at your entrance.

"Because the wolf is coming."

With a single jerk of his hips, he sheathes his whole length into your warm depths, causing you to yelp. As Sylus stares down at you, you drape your arms around his shoulders, trying to brace yourself as he begins to brutally thrust into you. Each thrust hits your cervix, making your eyes flutter and roll into the back of your head. Sylus buries his face into the crook of your neck once more, biting and sucking dark bruises into your skin.

"Don't hold back, Kitten. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."

His ministrations move to your throat, but not before running his tongue over the necklace he bought you, pulling a strangled moan out of you. His tongue continues to run up your throat until he reaches your chin. He smirks, a low chuckle emanating from him before his lips are on yours once more. You can taste the tangy flavor of your release as your tongues dance with each other. His large hands grasp your breasts, gently squeezing them before he rolls both nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. You sob into his mouth, which he happily devours with a growl. Soon, his thrusts become uneven, heralding his release.

With a breathy moan of his own, he snaps his hips into you once last time, his member throbbing as he paints your pussy walls white with his love. His hands grasp the pillow under your head as he rests his forehead against yours. You whimper as your legs hook around his waist, your body shaking as you come down from your own release. Your breaths are shaking as you place a gentle kiss onto the tip of his nose. He can't help but smile and laugh.

"That was more fun than you silly little game, wouldn't you say, Sweetie?"

[aayakashii]

(maybe) distance makes the heart grow fonder

Part 1, part 2

Author's note: as someone mentioned, it's been 8 months since the last update 💀 but I said I wasn't going to abandon it and I was serious! Either way, sorry for making everyone who likes this story wait so long. I'll try not to have the next chapter take too long but I have like 3 or 4 other fics I wanna write so they'll come first. The next chapter is already outlined though! Soon you'll have the other ghouls suffering from your absence >:3c aaanyway this one is a long one! I hope you like it and I hope it was worth the wait too. Let me know what you think!!!!!!

Warnings: angst, nightmares, blood, depictions of a panic attack

Ren was in a pickle.

He had called your name out a lot of times, but you were fast asleep on his bed and barely even stirred. He placed his hand in front of your nose more than once, in order to confirm you were breathing, each time getting more and more annoyed at the fact that, yes, you were breathing and still wouldn't budge.

That's what he gets for being nice once. Some annoying ass senior that slept like the dead hogging his bed.

Ren stood next to you, burning a hole into your forehead as he chewed anxiously on his thumb, wincing and hissing when he pulled a bit more than just dead skin. He sighed, looking at the red gash on the corner of his finger.

“This is so fucking annoying.” He muttered, rubbing his face with his hands.

What was the game plan here? Was he going to give up and just let you sleep on his bed all day? But what about him? He needed sleep as well.

Well, what was his other obvious option?

Ren grimaced at the thought of having to carry you on his arms, shuddering at the idea of being called out for sexual harassment after only trying to help. No, he did his good deed for the day already, and look where that got him.

As he pulled his hair in frustration, he heard the familiar sounds of things falling down all over the place downstairs. Great. That fucking weirdo was back. Awesome timing, in fact. He could deal with this issue then.

Ren turned on his heel, opening and closing the door to his bedroom quietly, in order to keep you from awakening, despite himself. Downstairs, Haru was sweeping an unknown pink powder while Towa watched with uncontained amusement. The pink dust sparkled and made strange, tingling sounds, like tiny little bells, as the broom’s bristles swooped them to a corner of the room. Haru mumbled to himself, eyebrows scrunched tight etching deep lines onto his forehead.

Ren lingered on the last step of the stairway, hesitant on asking Haru, of all people, for a favor. But desperate times call for desperate measures and Ren didn’t see any other way to (gently) remove you out of his room without getting in trouble for that - in his mind, the only options were being accused of sexual harassment or just straight up being scolded by you. And he didnt know which option sounded scarier.

“Hey.” he called out to the red-haired man quietly, scratching his cheek.

“Oh? Ren!” Haru looked up, face immediately brightening despite Ren’s permanent scowl. A hand flew to support his own lower back, which popped audibly as he turned around. “Think you can help me clean these things here? Towa bumped on the shelf and now we have this, uh. Little mess to clean up.”

Ren frowned in disgust and shook his head.

“Nah, actually… I’m the one needing some help right now to be honest.”

Haru’s face immediately fell.

“What’s wrong?” He stepped closer, eyeing Ren intently as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. “Did you get hurt somehow? Are you okay?”

“Ugh… Yeah, yeah, just come here in my room” he rolled his eyes, climbing up the stairs back towards his room without checking whether or not Haru would follow. After a few mumbles, the sound of a broom loudly falling down and some muttered curses, Ren heard footsteps quickly trailing right behind.

Ren put a finger in front of his lips, shushing Haru right before entering his room. A gust of cold air blew past them as he opened the door, goosebumps prickling their skin and Haru had to suppress a shiver. Right before he was about to scold Ren for racking up their electric bill with how long he kept the air conditioner on, his mouth shut immediately, teeth clacking audibly.

Right under the navy-colored duvet, you were fast asleep - chest rising and falling with every breath, almost peaceful-looking, if it weren't for the puffiness of your eyes and the redness of your nose.

“Oh…”

Ren sighed loudly.

“Yeah. Can you get them outta here? I wanna, you know. Have my bed back so I can sleep.”

Haru tilted his head.

“Can’t you carry them, though? You’re strong enough.”

“No way.” he shook his head vehemently. “What if they sue me for sexual harrassment?”

Haru scoffed in disbelief.

“They would never do that, and you know it. You’re their friend after all.”

“We’re not friends.” he mumbled.

Haru forcefully rubbed his nose that still had a bit of pink powder dust.

“Okay.” he said, sniffling, eyeing his hands that were now a bit pink as well. “I guess I can take them to Obscuary.”

Ren raised an eyebrow.

“Obscuary? Why don't you take them to their dorm?”

Haru tiptoed towards the bed, gently removing the duvet from your body, a guilty expression on his face as he noticed how you shivered under the cold air.

“They’re gonna spend a little time there.” He mumbled as he crouched and pulled you into his arms with ease. “Oh, that reminds me…” he turned to Ren, expression unusually severe. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone that they were here. If anyone asks you if you know where they are, lie.”

“What? Why?” Ren asked as Haru maneuvered his way out of his room.

“Ah, it’s a bit of a long story, and it’s best if they tell you themself, but they asked Towa and I to do that. You have to do the same. That’s a Captain’s order, in fact.”

Ren scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

“You can't tell that Sinostra friend of yours, no matter what.” Haru added, going down the stairs as Ren trailed behind.

“Ritsu? He’s not my friend.”

“Can’t tell those 1st years from Vagastrom either.” Haru scowled as he looked once again the pink dust that still covered a good chunk of the room. Towa was nowhere to be seen.

“None of those guys are my friends! I won't tell anyone, I got it, ugh.”

“Okay. good. While I'm out, you clean up the living room then.” Haru concluded as he opened the door to the dorm and stepped out.

“What? Wait, hold on! I didn’t say I would do that!” Ren replied, exasperation in his features as he immediately tried running towards the entrance as well.

“Counting on you! Be right back! Bahnti!”

As soon as Ren arrived at the door, Haru was already nowhere to be seen, his stigma immediately taking him far and away from Jabberwock, leaving the whole living room mess in Ren’s hands.

“Fuck!” he slapped the wall, wincing at the instant pain on his palm. “He’s so fucking annoying!”

Haru opened the door to Obscuary’s main entrance with ease, despite holding you in his arms, and sauntered towards the bar.

The bell chimed softly as he opened the heavy mahogany door and entered the dim lit recint and soft, jazzy music echoed through the place accompanied by the clinking of glasses.

“Sorry, the bar’s not open yet!” Rui announced cheerily, his back towards the door as he dried one of his many crystal cups. “I'm still organizing everything so please come in a few hours from now!”

Haru grunted, adjusting you in his arms before getting closer to the counter.

“Hey, Rui.” He said with a sigh, resting his hip against the sturdy wood.

“Oh! Harurin!” Rui took a quick glance over his shoulder before placing the cup down and turning around. “What’s u–” he paused with a gasp, eyes widening, as soon as he was faced with Haru's sheepish smile and your form, bundled in his arms.

“Uh…” Rui cleared his throat, eyes glued to the way you seemed to be holding on to Haru's vest for dear life. “What's going on?” he laughed anxiously as he rounded the counter to get closer.

“Aw, will you look at that. They look like that silly little princess from the fairytales.” Ed’s sultry voice resounded from a corner of the bar, his tall and languid form coming out of the shadows with a smirk on his face.

“Are they okay?” Rui asked, completely ignoring Ed's comment, although his grimace was fairly obvious.

“Well…” Haru shrugged, looking at you with a frown. “Physically, I guess they’re fine. They were going to come here to Obscuary and ask to stay a little while, but they passed out back in Jabberwock. Probably of exhaustion.”

“Exhaustion?”

The bar’s door slammed open and both men jumped, startled by the loud noise. You, however, remained trapped in a deep slumber, despite the ruckus caused by Lyca as he barreled through the bar with excitement.

“Is the honor student here?! I smell their-” Lyca’s expression fell as soon as he saw you bundled up in Haru’s arms, eyes still puffy, with a frown as you dreamed unpleasant dreams.

Lyca’s ears and tail popped out, an angry rumble reverberating in his chest while he approached Haru, slowly.

“Harurin…” he growled the nickname, an odd contrast to his demeanor. “What did you do?!”

“Lyca, calm down.” Rui stepped in front of Haru before the werewolf could come any closer.

Haru gulped, voice trembling as he backed away from Lyca’s very prominent canine features and tried to keep his fear of dogs at bay.

“Hey, I just brought them here as they were already planning to do, big guy. No need to get aggressive!”

“I’m not aggressive!”

“You sure do look aggressive...” Haru murmured.

“Lyca, don't worry that much. Harurin is a friend, remember? He wouldn't do anything to harm anyone, much less the honor student. Chill out.” Rui said with a warning glare.

“Ye-yeah! I would never hurt them! Please don't bite me!”

Lyca's ears and tail disappeared and he looked to the side, crossing his arms and sulking.

“I wasn't gonna bite” he pouted.

“What happened to them, though?” Rui pointed at you, trying to address the elephant the in the room once again. “They look absolutely wrecked.”

“I think… the pressure of everything and especially of all the other ghouls has finally got to them. You know how some of us can be.” he shrugged.

Rui sighed, a pitying look on his face as he clenched and unclenched his fists, keeping himself from reaching out and petting your tousled hair.

“They do look exhausted.”

Haru nodded.

“They cried a lot today.”

“They cried?!” Lyca’s eyes were wide, as if you crying was something unimaginable.

“Yeah and… They probably need to talk to you guys once they wake up, so keep watch, maybe.”

“Can't we wake them up then? So they tell us what's going on?” Lyca reached his hands towards you, but Rui shook his head.

“No Lyca, let them sleep. They probably need it. Harurin, can you take them to a room upstairs? It can be the one you use when you stay over.”

“No problem!”

“I’m gonna go with you.” Lyca grumbled, following Haru’s footsteps as he swiftly made way towards the mansion's second story.

“And you.” Rui turned on his heels to face Ed and pointed at him, accusative. “You just stay here and drink your wine while I fetch some stuff for them. Don't even think about messing with them while they're sleeping.”

Ed put a hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

“You wound me, Rui. I wouldn't dare kick a poor dog that's already down.”

Rui made a disgusted sound and walked away, to the sound of Ed’s amused chuckle.

Through the thick fog that encompassed your whole being, you saw a dog.

It felt like a lifetime since you’ve last seen one. A real one. Darkwick clearly had a preference for unnaturally skilled cats (demons? You weren't sure at that point), so you never saw dogs – at least not ones with a normal snout and little beaded, bright eyes.

Maybe they weren't as dextrous? It didn't matter.

But still, you saw a dog. And it was wagging its long, fluffy tail and panting happily, as if it was overjoyed to see you, an old friend you were supposed to recognize.

You didn't see your blurred, foggy surroundings, you just saw the dog – its dark, greyish coat and bright yellow eyes, the size of a labrador. It trotted towards you, head bowed down as it showed you it meant no harm. As it got right beside your feet, it laid down and showed its belly, begging for pets.

You smiled. The dog was so happy to see you. You wonder when was the last time anyone was this happy to see you.

You crouched down in order to pet it, and it wiggled gleefully under your hands, one paw shaking as you scratched a particularly good spot. Despite yourself, you cooed, telling him how he was so cute, such a good boy, so adorable. And it loved your praise, tail wagging a mile an hour.

After a few peaceful minutes, however, it started whining. It flopped down onto its side and got up quickly, startling you out of your happy daze.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You asked, but it whimpered and curled into itself, ears flat against its head and tail tucked between its legs. It was looking over your shoulder.

Without a second thought, you twisted your torso to see what was scaring it.

All you registered is a tall, woman-like figure with limbs bent unnaturally, one huge eye surrounded by purple, blue, red and white flowers; and a mouth slit into a wide, bloody smile.

Your mind screamed for you to leave, to run, to hide. No, no, not again, not again, not again.

But you were glued in place, breath hitched inside your throat as you can't do much but take it all in all over again.

There was something different in the scenario, though.

Right in front of the woman, there was a red headed man. He turned around slowly, as if he could sense your gaze fixed upon him. His toxic green eyes lock onto your figure, disdain and anger threatening to melt your bone like acid. Copious amounts of blood soaked his face, neck and white shirt.

You finally noticed how red your surroundings looked, out of nowhere.

The dog was long gone. You were alone again.

Taiga slowly placed the barrel of his golden, glittering gun onto your forehead with a blank expression. You tried to open your mouth and yell in a desperate attempt to have him recognize you, but your whole body felt heavy like lead.

All you could feel was the cold metal of his gun touch your forehead.

The piercing pain came right after the loud gunshot.

You screamed and flailed wildly on the bed, accidentally pushing Lyca, who napped peacefully on your belly. His body flipped to the side and he fell down with a yelp, but you didn’t even register his presence. Your eyes were still sealed shut, as if the nightmare had an unyielding grasp on your conscience, dragging your body back into its torturous depths as you left claw marks on the way.

You screamed and screamed. This seems to be your thing now, apparently.

"What's wrong? Hey!” Lyca jumped up to his feet in a rush, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you with little restraint on his strength. You kept on moaning in what sounded like incredible pain, still unaware of him

“Hey! What's wrong?" he gave tiny slaps on your cheeks, hoping to bring you back to consciousness. When that didn’t work, he settled for holding your arms down in order to keep you from getting hurt, since your arms were dangerously close from knocking everything that surrounded you and the bed.

Lyca’s eyes were brimmed with tears and he looked terrified once Rui entered the room.

“They- they won’t wake up” he stuttered, voice wavering as he looked at Rui for answers “What do I do?”

Rui breathed deeply, eyes fluttering as he tried to think of a solution. You were clearly still stuck in your sleep, unable to escape whatever seemed to be haunting you in your mind.

But what could he even do? It’s not like he could come near you and try to talk you out of your stupor, when you flailed wildly, almost as if convulsing – he couldn’t risk having you accidentally touch him, no matter what.

In the blink of an eye, however, Ed appeared on your bedside, an amused smile on his face as he flicked your forehead, huffing out a laugh.

“Come back here, you silly human.” he murmured, voice laced with a mischief that was unsuitable for the situation.

With a gasp, you resurfaced - your eyes finally opened and your body relaxed under Lyca’s arms. Your eyelids fluttered and you heaved, coughing as you took in your surroundings and, especially, Lyca’s pained expression hovering over you.

“Ly…ca?” you rasped and he immediately sat back on his heels, rubbing unshed tears away from his eyes and snot from his nose.

“You scared me.” he sniffed, looking away as you massaged your temples, a throbbing headache making itself known in your skull.

“What happened? What did I do?” you frown.

“You didn’t do anything, doll.” Rui chimed in, sitting on the foot of the bed with a meek smile “You were just having a really bad nightmare and it made you thrash in your sleep. It was a bit scary to see, but it wasn’t your fault. Can’t control that type of thing.” he explained, while smoothing non-existent wrinkles on the duvet.

“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I… This type of thing never happened before.” you tried sitting up, looking at Lyca apologetically.

“The blond gigolo already said it. It wasn’t your fault.” he huffed.

You remembered bits and pieces of the nightmare, but mostly, how it made you feel - all the helplessness, the pain and the terror that had slowly built up inside you ever since you arrived at Darkwick crashed upon you like a tidal wave, leaving you no space to breathe. It felt like being pushed over the precipice of death time and time again, and revived only to suffer the same pain once more - a Promethean torture that only allowed you to think what the hell could you have done to deserve that much hurt; which god could have possibly angered so badly to deserve their rage in such a way.

You sighed, still rubbing your temples.

“I'm sorry for scaring you either way… When- when did I arrive here?”

“Harurin brought you. You were fast asleep in his arms. He mentioned you said you'd apparently come here? Is that so?”

“Oh… Yeah… Yeah, it is.” gratitude washed over your body for a moment. Haru already did so much to help you. You promised yourself you'd find a way to express your thankfulness once things went back to normal – or as normal as they could be.

“What happened, doll?” Rui snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked into his eyes, an unusual seriousness in his expression. “He told us you kinda crashed out, but said you were planning something. What is it?”

You gulped, casting down your eyes and fiddling with the fabric of your blazer, mouth opening and closing as you tried to find the words to explain the mess that was your mind.

“I… I found a way to look at some of my old social media.” You muttered, finally.

Lyca scrunched his eyebrows, shaking his head in confusion.

“What does this have to do with what's going on?”

“I didnt know I was gonna be so affected by my memories.” You shrugged. “I suddenly remembered how I had a life out there. Outside of Darkwick. I don't know… I don't how I even forgot about it. I had friends, family. People who cared about me, people I don't know if I'll ever see again.” You murmured, looking everywhere but the pity in Rui's eyes. You were so, so fucking tired of crying. Your limbs felt like they weighed a million tons.

“And it made me think.” You continued, after trying to clear your throat from the knot that seemed to be permanently there. “How badly people treat me here. You guys are the exception, obviously, and a few others but…” you shook your head “I don't know what I did to deserve being humiliated on a daily basis. I'm– I'm threatened, yelled at, insulted, hurt time and time again by people who barely act as if I'm human. I think some of them might see me as lesser than that.”

Rui opened his mouth to speak, but the words were flowing freely from your lips – sorrow finally seemed to have given away to anger and you needed to air out your grievances before they dragged you down again.

“And some of them see me as a school project. Means to an end, you know? Cure that stupid human and get this cool prize. I'm not a fucking project. I had my life. My dreams. They all act as if they're doing me a favor when all I wanted was to never have met them at all; never been through this at all.”

A beat passed, heavy in its silence.

“You regret meeting us?” Lyca's voice cut through the rage that covered your vision, and you paused.

He had his eyes downcast, a pout on his lips and a line between his eyebrows. He poked the bed, trying his best not to give in to the frown that tried to tug his lips down.

You hurt him. How great.

“No, Lyca. I'd never regret meeting you, nor many of the friends I made here.” You reached out to grab his hand, quieting his fidgeting as you squeezed it reassuringly. Lyca side eyed you with barely concealed upset. “It's true, I– I promise you. I swear. I love you guys and it's the only thing that has kept me alive so far.”

At the mention of the word “love”, Lyca's cheeks turned pink and he squirmed his hand out of your hold, embarrassed.

“You don't- don't need to exaggerate.” He murmured, scratching his cheek.

“It's true.” You smiled, before turning serious once again. “But I would be glad if I could never see some people ever again.”

“Okay, so… what is this plan Harurin mentioned then?” Rui chimed in, once again bringing back the focus.

You breathed deeply.

“I wanna give myself a break. I wanna spend some time away from them, from the people that have been hurting me. I asked Haru to bring me here because I wanted to ask if I could spend some time here in Obscuary, hidden from some of the ghouls.”

“Of course you can!” Lyca immediately jumped at your words, straightening his back. When he didn't get confirmation right away, he looked at Rui. “Right?”

“I mean… You can, but, uh. I'm not sure how it'd change anything…?”

“Change?” You tilted your head.

“Rui means: What is your goal with this?” Ed suddenly spoke. He had seated himself in a nearby armchair, quietly watching the exchange. You had basically forgotten he was there.

“What?”

“What do you plan on getting from this disappearing stunt? Apologies? Penitence? A sudden revelation from them that they love you and can't live without you?”

You scoffed.

“Have you been watching romcoms lately?”

Ed chuckled, amused.

“How do you know that? I found this website called Netflix and it's been a delight.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I could tell. No, I dont expect any of them to miss me or whatever.”

“Then…?”

“I'm just tired. I’m so tired, Rui. I wanna rest. I want some peace and quiet, without someone searching for me and dragging me to do whatever stupid task they think I gotta do. I wanna sleep in without the threat of being yelled at by some asshole that's barely older than me. I need a timeout.”

Rui pursed his lips and hummed in thought with a finger tapping his chin.

“But I bet some of them will look for you. You know how they are.”

“Just pretend you don't know anything. You haven't seen me at all. I hardly doubt anyone wants to walk through Obscuary’s forest anyway.”

“Ouch!” Rui laughed with a hand on his heart. “But well, yeah. You aren't wrong.”

“So… Can I stay? For a little while? I promise I'll help out to pay back for my stay.”

Rui was already nodding, but before he could open his mouth to agree, Ed interrupted, a lascivious smile on his lips:

“You know all your troubles would be solved if you just accepted what I offered to you back in that one mission, don't you my dear?”

A hazy, pink hued memory of Ed's whispers flashed behind your eyes: a hypnotizing hum vibrating in your bones, egging you to allow him to sink his teeth on your throat and exchange your deadly curse for his own. You shivered.

“No offense, but being tied to you for an eternity is a torture of its own. I don’t wanna exchange one torture for another.”

Ed's smile faltered for a moment, but you catched it regardless.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Rui asked, eyes wide and hypervigilant of whatever insanity Ed was referring to.

“Nothing. Your captain is just being unreasonable again.” you shook your head.

“So? Will you stay in Obscuary for real?” Lyca asked, ignoring the exchange entirely.

You looked at Rui for confirmation. He put his hands on his hips with a defeated sigh.

“Oh, honey. You know I have a weak spot for you, don't you?” he winked, back on his best host demeanor once again.

You breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.

“Thank you, Rui. Thank you so much. I promise I won't give you trouble and will help out here as much as I can.”

Lyca suddenly grabbed your hands and leaned forward, clearly on a quest to hog all of your attention.

“Now that you're staying, come here with me. I gotta show you my new drawings!” he immediately jumped out of the bed and pulled you by your hand, taking you outside the bedroom and towards his own room.

“Lyca, they barely woke up! Be careful! And reasonable! Geez!” Rui trailed behind you, exasperation clear in his voice.

You didn't miss how Ed stayed back, still in the armchair. And a weird glint in his gaze, firmly locked onto you, is the last thing you see as you leave the room.

Comments or reblogs with tags are appreciated! Please let me know what you think of this so far

[lotuzies]

౨ৎ MY OWN SHIFTING METHOD

note: i haven't shifted yet, only hundreds of minishifted (yes its still a shift but this is for the sake of explaining) but this is what makes me feel the closest to my realities.

before all this, i like to indulge in something that makes me feel connected to my dr, mainly listening to my playlists or scrolling on pinterest.

the first thing i do is this weird detaching process from my body. i've mentioned this in a different post but ever since i was a kid, looking at the mirror for too long felt uncanny. i'd always think "is this really me? this body, is it me? is it what fully defines me? that can't be right..." turns out that has been a MASSIVE help lol.

anyways, you can do this however you like, the point is to detach from your body, to understand that you're not chained to it. i like to affirm it throughout the day, remind myself that it doesn't define me, and i like to look into the mirror for 5-10 minutes straight, causing that uncanny feeling again of "this is not me".

then, i lay down and relax. i breathe, clear my mind, don't interact with any thoughts whatsoever and keep in mind that i'm literally just consciousness, not by body.

now, instead of visualizing waking up in my desired reality, i like to think of past memories! after all, when shifting, you're just becoming aware of another reality, you're perceiving that reality as a person who has been living in it! so i like to bask in past memories, such as ex-relationships, high school days, etc! these memories aren't even scripted or anything, half of them are just stuff i know it happened OR memories i genuinely just gained during this whole process. i tell myself those are memories i simply forgot and i'm just simply remembering them ( @hrrtshape inspired )

one important thing is: i don't focus on the "shifting" part. i stopped trying to trigger a shift, i let my subconscious handle that, and just focus on those memories. i don't think "am i shifting? am i doing it right?" and instead just let my mind wander in my memories. when you're going to sleep in this reality, you don't think "ok, i'm gonna close my eyes now, will i wake up in my room? will this work?" no! because you know you will! same thing here.

another important thing is: shifting is natural, so i don't look for any symptoms. all success stories emphasize how shifting feels like nothing, like snapping your fingers. one moment you're "here" and the other you're "there". there's not even a "oh my god i shifted!!!!" moment because it just naturally flows. so i know the moment i open my eyes, i'll already be in my desired reality, even if there's no symptoms or anything (i don't even notice if i have any lol).

and that's it! i'll just naturally open my eyes like waking up on a normal day in this reality (because, once again, shifting is natural) and done!

this is a super short post, i know, but shifting isn't complicated, only if YOU complicate it, so there isn't really anything else to add here. anyways, i hope i could help and happy shifting <3

[moonzzip]

thinkin' bout you | kwon jiyong

a/n — so, this is a story I had an idea for out of the blue, I don't know if I'll post more, only time will tell, I enjoyed writing it and wanted a bit of jiyong's angst, now I'm sharing it, english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes

summary: you wanted to help jiyong, but it didn't go as planned.

pairing: jiyong x gn!reader

warnings: bigbang debuted recently in this story, little angst, happy ending, small appearance of taeyang and daesung, indirect mention of t.o.p

lowercase letters, word count: 1,1k

when you walk into the practice room, your eyes go straight to the floor, seeing jiyong crouched down with sweat dripping from his temples, slightly out of breath. you sigh, “jiyong, that’s enough, right? you’ve been here for hours. if you keep pushing yourself to the limit, you might get hurt.”

your gaze shifts to the corner of the room, where empty water bottles are scattered—evidence of the countless hours jiyong has spent perfecting his dance. walking over, you pick up an unopened one and twist the cap off, making your way toward the man on the floor. “here, you need to dri—”

a sharp slap sends the bottle flying to the ground, its contents spilling instantly. you don’t even have time to react before he snaps, “shut up. stop bothering me. i’m busy right now.”

he runs a hand through his damp hair, sighing in frustration. “you don’t even know what i’m going through. you don’t know how hard it is to keep doing this for hours. if you didn’t have what it takes to debut, then just leave others alone and stop being a nuisance.”

you stare at jiyong in shock, completely speechless. he had never acted like this before. you knew he was stressed, but you still worried about him. before you can even process it, he’s already walking away, slamming the door behind him and leaving you alone in the practice room.

you stand there, blinking, unable to believe the words that just came out of your (former?) best friend’s mouth. you had always been there for him. you spent so much time by his side, sacrificing your own things just to help him—whether it was with his idol career or anything else. you had been there from the very beginning, even before jiyong met the other members of the group he always talked about.

looking down at your feet, unsure of how to react, your eyes land on the fallen water bottle. without thinking, you walk toward the small supply closet in the practice room to grab something to clean up the mess. as you wipe the floor, you feel your legs weaken. you crouch down, biting your lips hard as your eyes well up with tears. clutching your hair in anguish, you let go of the mop and cover your eyes with one hand, drowning in your own misery.

you don’t know how long you stayed there—it couldn’t have been too long—but eventually, you stand up and walk out of the dimly lit practice room, the setting sun casting long shadows across the floor.

as you descend the stairs to the company’s lobby, you pass by taeyang and daesung, who greet you cheerfully. “hey, ___! have you seen jiyong around?” taeyang asks, while daesung waves at you with a smile.

you glance at them, then simply shake your head with a neutral expression before continuing toward the exit. the two watch you walk away in silence.

“what do you think happened?” daesung wonders out loud, not really expecting an answer.

you walk aimlessly for about ten minutes, staring up at the starry sky. turning your head to the side, you see the vast han river, its waters reflecting the scattered stars above. approaching a nearby bench, you sit down, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. leaning your head back against the bench, you exhale a shaky sigh, then lift your arm to cover your eyes, breathing heavily, lips trembling.

the sound of the wind fills your ears, drowning out everything else.

your arm slowly falls to your side, away from your face. your eyes remain closed.

“…aren’t you cold?”

your eyes snap open in an instant, locking onto the ones you sometimes admired in secret. the two of you stare at each other in silence. jiyong’s gaze lingers, waiting for your answer, while yours are wide with surprise. you blink, his breath faintly hitting your forehead due to how close he is when speaking.

for a small, minuscule, almost imperceptible moment, your eyes flicker to his lips—but you quickly look away.

you stand up from the bench, tilting your head just slightly to avoid bumping into his.

“…jiyong?” you whisper, noticing the cold air leaving your lips. how long had you been walking? you don’t know.

your eyes shift to the man in front of you, only a short distance separating you both, with the bench still between you.

silence.

but soon, you’re the one who looks away first, turning your gaze toward the river, where the moon’s reflection shimmers on the surface. even when you hear footsteps, you don’t look. jiyong stops beside you, but neither of you speaks—until he finally does.

“here.”

you turn your head, only to find something practically shoved into your face, blocking your view of him. your hands instinctively reach out, taking the small bag. you glance down at it, then realize what it is. your breath hitches, and your eyes glimmer slightly as a small smile tugs at your lips.

“ohhh~ kwon jiyong is giving me chocolates? that means you’re confessing your love for me, right?” you tease, grinning mischievously as you nudge him with your elbow.

before you can say anything else—

“…yes.”

your world stops.

everything freezes.

your eyes widen in shock. you’re completely paralyzed. and apparently, so is jiyong. the two of you stand there, speechless. your mouth hangs open. his does too—but he quickly covers it with his hand, as if unable to believe what he just said.

silence again.

you gently take his hand in yours, pulling it away from his lips.

“it’s okay, ji. i like you too.”

delicately, you hold his hand.

“i’m sorry, ___.”

you lift your eyes to his, but before you can say anything, he continues,

“i said things i shouldn’t have, and i hurt you. that’s the last thing i ever wanted to do. i was just stressed and couldn’t express myself the right way. i was frustrated—still am, actually—but now it’s because i said things that hurt you. i never meant them. i’ve never been good at expressing my feelings. and the way you take such good care of me… it made me confused. embarrassed. happy. warm.

i tried to distract myself by dancing—not just to improve, but to stop thinking about you, and i—”

his words are cut off by the soft touch of your lips against his.

gentle. warm. comforting.

but just as quickly as they came, they are gone.

jiyong stares at you in shock, his cheeks heating up as he processes what just happened.

you smile. “your speech was getting too long. i forgive you, you idiot.”

taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it lightly. “we should go get some ramen, just the two of us. the other three eat way too much—unless they’re paying this time.”

you start walking, pulling jiyong along with you.

he stares at your back, at your hand holding his, and he smiles—his heart warm, the cold from before completely forgotten.

a/n — I wrote this while listening to 'this love' by gd, I saw the m/v recently and I thought it was so... I don't know, a really good vibe to write, I hope you liked it! I have some difficulties with english so I used a translator to help me write it, but I hope it's not bad, thanks for reading!

[mrs-hwangh]

a boxers heart.

chapter three

Kim Geonwoo x Fem!Reader

Summary: one day was enough to change your lifes forever. Geonwoo is your best friend, you help his mother with her coffee shop and became part of a legendary trio with Geonwoo and Woojin. However.. nothing will ever be the same again after the Smile Company entered your lifes.

wc: 2.1 K

warnings: mentions of: violence, knifes, blood

+not proof read, I'll do that tomorrow

an: I'm so sorry that I dissappeared for this long. Some things happened that I had to take care of, but long story short, I might get my dream job if everything goes right.. sooo the long pause had some kind if good reason :'D

Now back to this series, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I actually started writing it along with the first two, I just didn't know how to write the scenes because it's my first time writing something this violent. I hope I succeeded in this part, please bare with me 🥹

Anywayyyy

Enjoy

Men styled in black stood outside the now destroyed Shop, guarding it so that nobody would interfere while they traumatized yet more persons lifes.

Geonwoo tried to run past the first guy but he stopped him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Who the hell are you? Get lost!"

The man pushed Geonwoo back, not letting him get any closer to the entrance of the building.

He was able to steal a glance from inside the shop and there they were.

"Hey! I told you to scram, asshole!"

Two men were holding you by your arms while another, seemingly richer, man sat with his mother.

He could see both of your frightened expressions.. and this alone was enough to send him on edge.

However.. the rich person suddenly grabbed his mother by her head and pushed it against the table.

These people are doomed.

It started with one punch, then another and many more. The first guard met the ground during his attempt to keep the boy back. And so did the others. Geonwoo sent all of them flying. Avoiding most of their attacks against him, punching, kicking and pushing them one by one.

You heard the noise from outside and were in shock as you witnessed Geonwoo, fighting 15 people on his own. He may be strong but where was his limit?This was a whole squad against him, experienced criminals against the guy who would never fight unfair, always respecting his boundaries.

You saw one of them landing a hit on him and you flinched, worried that they hurt him even if you knew that this guy just won a boxing tournament yesterday. Moments passed by and he marched into the shattered and unrecognizable shop.

The two guys that held you let you go, running against him just to be defeated seconds after.

"..Geonwoo..!"

You said relieved, looking at his mother and side eyeing the hell out of the asshole who caused all of this.

The once so proud man stood up, left Geonwoos mother on her own and backed off towards the back door.

Geonwoo ran to you two.

"Mom, y/n! You allright?"

You two nodded, still in the schock of the moment.

"We're okay.. we're okay"

He hugged us tightly, his gaze analyzing us to ensure himself that they didn't do worse to his closest persons.

The poor woman was sobbing, seeing her like this was the last straw he had to make that bastard regret that he ever showed up to this place.

Their gazes met and Geunwoo wasted no time into lunging onto him, pushing him harshly against the wall.

Did he want to punch him? Yes.

Did he want to send him straight to the hospital? Oh he will.

But he firstly had know why everything of this happened in the first place.

"Who are you?"

He asked.

"Who are you to do this to our store?"

The stranger wanted to flee but there was no use in trying so, Geonwoo had him perfectly locked. No answer was offered by him, only a shocked look on his face.

"I asked you 'who are you?'"

Geonwoo's a patient person, but whoever this was was walking on very thin ice right now.

Instead of answering him, the man looked towards the door where his thugs were readjusting their positions and another men was entering the shop.

The bastard chuckled and this was the moment when Geonwoo decided to look at the person the guy was looking at.

He had a scar running across the top to the bottom part of his face. A proud look and the company of an muscular giant.

You quickly shielded his mother from the new guys. She was a trembling mess and that psycho look on their supposed leaders face didn't help.

Geonwoo let go of the idiot who dared to lay his hand on you two, looking at the new individuals now.

He was quick to walk towards your forms, taking both of you into his arms as he positioned himself in a protective manner. One hand clung onto his mother's form to reassure her, his other held yours tightly, squeezing it lightly to let you know that everything would be fine.

Geonwoo looked a them, unsure if he could keep you safe, thousands possible outcomes created the worst scenarios in his head. He didn't want to see you two suffer.. he wouldn't let that happen.

But that big guy over there looked anything but friendly, he never fought against someone like him and his position in this only worsened the situation.

The person who seemed to be their boss then speaked up.

"Calm down, kid"

How could he?

How could he calm down knowing that whoever he is tried to harm his mother and you?

Did he seriously think that Geonwoo would trust anything he'd say after this?

The man held an amused expression, his hands behind his back.

"Your mother has borrowed some money from our company"

Geonwoo looked at her and she shook her head no.

"Mh-hm"

The boy mustered his courage, the only thing racing in his mind being to get that man and his followers our of here.

"So what do you want?"

The adults gaze darkened, that playful manner now unrecognizable.

"Pay us back."

You noticed the slight shaking of his hand, of course he was nervous, everyone would be in such a situation.

The little option you had to comfort him was to turn the tables and to squeeze his hand in return, holding tightly onto it and hope for the best.

"Pay us for the damages first"

He spat, it took alot of courage in such a situation and you admired him for that ..however.. you also mentally facepalmed yourself because this was certainly not the answer this criminal was hoping for. The said man stepped closer, not breaking the eye contact he had with Geonwoo until he stopped. His gaze switched between his, his mothers and yours.

The look of this psychopath would hunt you in your dreams, these eyes spilled all of his darkest secrets, leaving no room for hopes of a happy ending.

"G-Geonwoo.."

"Don't worry, I've got this"

He lied or he tried to reassure himself. Whatever it was, you could feel the slight tremble of his hands while he held you and his mother. The stranger stood there for a while until he smirked and stepped back. When he passed the buffed guy, he whispered something.

"Beom"

His name? Whatever it was, it wasn't a good sign. The stranger walked out of the line and took one of the chairs, putting it on a corner to sit on it.

The Gorilla of a man then took his hat of and threw the closest chair to him violently to the ground. Geonwoos grip on us tightened but all it took was one look to understand what'd happen.

"Mom, y/n, it's okay, just go over there.. okay?"

"Geonwoo.."

His mother started but he didn't leave us any room for resistance.

"Please.. please don't get hurt"

You knew how bad it looked... these guys are dangerous and for whatever reason they chose to torment his family tonight.

He pushed you towards the back, his mother didn't want to leave him but you held her, trying to comfort the poor woman.

Geonwoo took a protective stance, watching the grown man as he analyzed the best way to end this. The said man just stood there, waiting for Geonwoo to land the first blow. Which he did.One on his southern part and another one straight to his face. Much to his frustration, the giant didn't move.

A dangerous and angered gaze flickered across his facial features. A second, a third and a further blow followed, with no effects.

All of this just for a tiny bit of blood coming from the guys mouth. You knew your friend good enough to understand his body language by now. He stiffened, his gaze was unsure and you knew that this Gorilla of a human would cause a big damage.

His patience wore then and the said Guy lunged at Geonwoo. His mother flinched in your arms and all you could do was trying to comfort her and pray that they wouldn't hurt your friend.

Geonwoo managed to defend the first attack, using the time the other guy needed to readjust himself to fight back.

He hit every blow and you couldn't be prouder of him right now... however,his oponement wasn't just someone.A sickening blow was thrown at Geonwoos head, sending him to the other side of the destroyed coffee shop.

"Oh my God.. "

I whisper yelled as he hit the display which shattered at the sudden impact.

The attacks were restless, one blow followed after the other. Geonwoo managed to take a position just like he would during a fight. But this one was anything but fair.

His oponement wanted him dead. Two strong arms getting a grip of his hands, pulling them away from his head.The next stage followed.. the guy hit his head against Geonwoos until he lost his strength. His eyes rolled back and his knees gave up.

A loud thud echoed through the room as his body hit the floor.

His mother cried in your arms while you fought against your tears.

"Geonwoo! Geonwoo please! Wake up!!"

He was trying to stay concious, blood dripped from his nose and there were some nasty wounds shattered across his face.

The stranger gave the Giant an approving nod and everything that followed was like a blur in your memories. Geonwoo had managed to lunge an attack on his oponement but the following actions were just cruel.

He got pinned against the wall, his head hitting the mirror.An attempt of choking him followed with mercilessly placed punches and that was the moment you lost your shit.

"You fucking bastards!"

You tried to attack the Giant form behind, offering Geonwoo every help you could offer facing the sad truth that you had no idea of martial arts.

Seconds before you could reach him, someone pulled you from behind and threw you to the floor.

"You little bitch"

Was all the said man said before kicking you at your stomach. Geonwoos mother was being held back by the guy with the glasses.

"You'll regrett this"

You managed to say between gritted teeth, kicking his leg before he could land another kick on your form. The guy fell to the ground and you punched him as many times as you could before his mates pulled you away from him, restraining you from further actions.

"Let me go!"

One of them kneeled down to match your height, holding your chin to move it towards a terrifying scene.

There he laid, motionless and at the mercy of the cruel man.

"W-What.."

"Cat got your tongue?"

"This is where the fun part begins"

Their sickening comments added on the helplessness of the whole situation. Footsteps echoed through the room as their leader kicked Geonwoos body to make him face him.

He was coughing, struggling to even stay awake.

The sight broke your heart and the screams of his mother would always hunt you. Their leader kneeled down, holding eye contact with the person who never failed to light up your day.

"Hey, I appreciate people with grit"

He moved closer.

"Because guys with grit can get anything done"

A long silence followed after that.

"Do you want to work for me? I will make sure that-"

The psychos offer got shut off with Geonwoo spitting on him.

A proud smile made it's way to your face but your gut feeling said that something terrible would follow.

Their leader looked outside of the shop where his minions were waiting, they saw that action.. and he stood up again, stepping over him to sit down on him.

He pressed his weigh on Geonwoos lungs which made him struggle even more. Soon enough, a sharp sound traveled across the room and your eyes widened.

He held a knife.

He held a fucking knife.

His free hand held Geonwoos Chin, positioning him so that he'd face him.

The cruelsome act that followed after wasn't something that one could even try to describe. The knife was used to slice a clean cut across his face.

The sickening sound of the skins layer getting sliced through made his mother cry even more.

It hit you aswell, tears were falling freely now as you witnessed the torture they made your friend go through, praying that for whatever reason it'd end soon.

-

Taglist @dripoftheseus @asterizee @njajd8kss @urlocalbeaner5 @croissant-san @darklove2020 @nadlx33333 @domfikeluva

Thank you for reading!!

[sunny44]

The lollipop

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of blowjob

Summary: Lando steals your lollipop.

The paddock was busier than usual this afternoon. The mechanics were rushing around adjusting the last details of the cars while the drivers were reviewing their strategies.

I was walking nonchalantly, licking my lollipop while observing the movement around me. Writing had always been my way of escaping the chaotic reality of racing, as there was always a moment when all the movement and bustle got too much but, at that moment, I was just enjoying the vibrant atmosphere.

I saw Lando chatting animatedly with some members of his team and decided to approach him. Lando always had a way of making the most tense moments seem light and fun. When he saw me approaching, a mischievous smile appeared on his face, making me suspicious.

"Hey, Y/n! What are you up to?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Nothing much, just enjoying the day and wandering around," I replied with a smile, my lollipop still in my mouth.

Lando stared at the lollipop for a moment, and before I could react, he plucked it out of my mouth and put it in his own.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, surprised and annoyed. "That's mine! It was literally in my mouth."

Lando smiled, his gaze full of mischief.

"Yeah, and? So was I this morning and in a lot of other days."

I felt my face heat up instantly and the staff started laughing and leaving us alone.

"You're impossible, did you really had to tell that I had your cock in my mouth this morning in front of everyone?" I muttered, trying to hide my embarrassment. But inside, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement. Lando always had this ability to put me off my guard and make me laugh at the same time.

He leaned a little closer, still licking my lollipop.

"Admit it, you like our dynamic, and I just hinted that you had my cock in your mouth, they don't have to believe me." he said, his tone playful but with a touch of sincerity. "Even if it was true."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep a serious expression.

"What if I say I don't like this dynamic?" Lando laughed, a light and infectious sound.

"Then I'll have to keep stealing your lollipops until you admit that you like me. And not just my sexy body."

I couldn't help but smile. "You're so childish," I said, rolling my eyes in an exaggerated way.

"Maybe," he replied, shrugging. "But you love it." He licked lollipop again and, before handing it back, looked straight into my eyes. "Do you want it back?"

"Of course I do, I paid for it," I replied, holding out my hand. Lando held the lollipop out of reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Only if you admit you like me." I sighed, knowing he wouldn't let me off the hook easily.

"All right, Lando. I like you. Now give it back."

He smiled, genuinely pleased, and reached up to put the lollipop near my mouth and when I opened it, he put it in.

"See? That wasn't so hard."

I took the lollipop, feeling his fingers rub against mine.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" I said, but with a smile that I couldn't hide.

Lando laughed again. "That may be, but I'm the idiot you like."

And as soon as I took the lollipop out of my mouth, he pulled me in and kissed me. It certainly felt like one of those movie kisses that makes you stop breathing and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like never before.

We had kissed before, but every time I had the same feeling of happiness.

"See you later?" He whispers with his lips still close to mine.

"Of course, we're sharing a room." He laughs and gives me one more kiss before going into the garage and leaving me smiling like a teenage girl after kissing the boy she likes.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername inatagram stories

“Who doesn’t love a lollipop.”

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 14

Source for pic

Trouble 14

Word Count: 6045

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Okay, now we really are reaching the end of the story. There's the Epilogue after this and we'll be done with Zoro! I'm missing this story already, it was so different from the others and I had so much fun with it! Well, as I said in my post earlier today, I wasn't expecting this chapter to take such an angsty turn, I was going to skim the details of the healing to get straight into the fluff. But they decided they wanted something different, and I complied. I'm glad I did because I like the bit of angst in this chapter, tell me what you think about it too, will you?

Masterlist

You both get a good scolding from the team of nurses as you wake up because you need rest in order to recover from your wounds. Zoro tries to argue that it was the best rest he’s gotten in the past few years, and though some nurses find the declaration cute, the head nurse tells him to stop acting like a child and behave.

So, you leave to return to your room for the doctors and nurses to check on Zoro’s condition, promising to return as soon as possible. 

You’re still finishing up breakfast, sitting in your bed when you hear a light knock at your door. “Come in.”

“Bug?” 

As soon as you see the look of worry Shanks gives you, you feel like a little girl again and start sobbing, the weight of everything too overwhelming to bear alone. 

“Oh, honey…” Shanks drops his coat on the floor and runs to you, holding you close in a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” He keeps kissing the crown of your head, his arm pulling you closer and closer as if by that gesture he can erase all the pain you’ve been through.

“I–It’s okay, Dad…” You hide your head against the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of safety and love, and sob some more. “It’s not your fault.”

Shanks sits on your bed, never letting go of you, and when he speaks, his voice sounds hoarse and ragged, like he’s trying to hold back his own tears. “I should never have left you alone.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“What if–... What if Zoro hadn’t–... What–...” Shanks groans, shaking his head and gritting his teeth, squeezing you tighter against him and not finishing his line of thought, as if merely thinking about what could have happened is unbearable. “I’m never leaving you again, Bug.”

You let out a bubbly laugh mixed with a dry sob. “We both know that’s unreasonable, Dad.”

“It’s not.” He kisses your head again. “I’ll strap you to my waist with a rope or something. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Dad!”

“I mean it, though. Don’t worry, it will be a rope long enough to give you some privacy.”

“Geez, Red, stop being so dramatic.”

Mihawk enters the room after a slight knock on the door to announce his presence, but Shanks is already scowling and still refuses to let go of you. 

“I’m not being dramatic, Hawkeyes, I’m just comforting my child and showing her love. Something I doubt you’re capable of doing.” Mihawk smirks back at your father, and you wiggle free of his embrace, still holding his hand. 

“Actually, Dad, Captain Mihawk was quite understanding with me last night.” You chuckle slightly, drying your tears with the back of your hand. 

“Well, I’ll be damned…” Shanks begins with a grin, and Mihawk sighs, rolling his eyes and promptly changing the subject. 

“I was just on my way to see Roronoa, but I wanted you both to know that your property looks like a media circus now.” He straightened up, his nose scrunching at the mention of reporters. “I tried to keep things wrapped up as tightly as possible, but the news still leaked, so we had to make a statement. And though we’re trying to provide all the information about King and his responsibility in the maiming of the two victims, the reporters still want a story about the girl he did all of this for…”

Shanks tightens his grip on your hand, and you hold a breath. Obviously, the nightmare couldn’t be over. Was it too much to ask?

“We forced them to remain outside private property, but you know how tenacious reporters can be… maybe you can stay with a friend until the novelty dies down?” He looks at you, and you nod softly. 

Your friends! If they heard the news, they must be worried sick!

“My friends, are they…”

Mihawk sighs again, this time in exasperation. “They’re all camped outside the hospital, demanding to see you and Zoro. I managed to talk to Miss Nico and Miss Nefertari, the sensible ones in that crew, and promised they would be allowed in as soon as you were cleared to receive visitors.”

You shed a small smile, your brows wrinkling with gratitude mixed with worry. Of course they’re camping outside. You push the guilt from not telling them anything far down to the abyss of unwanted things to think about, and force the smile to keep pressing your lips.

“We’ll be fine.” You say to your father. Shanks nods, the wrinkles near his eyes much more prominent than when he left, and then he fixes your hair in a loving gesture. 

“We will.”

Mihawk nods and turns to leave, then he calls your name and turns back to you. “One more thing, if you’re up to it, I can take your statement here instead of you coming to the police station to do it. Less hassle, no reporters…”

You nod with a small thank you and he leaves you to your father’s fussing once more.

-*-

“You look like crap.”

“Thanks, Cap. That’s exactly the pep talk I needed after getting stabbed and almost dying.” Zoro grunts and raises his arm to cover his eye. He feels like shit. Every muscle feels raw, every wound stings and hurts, every bruise taunts him and strains his movements. 

But he feels fucking good too.

Because you’re alive, and King is not. Motherfucker.

Zoro clenches his fist and grits his teeth. He still feels so much rage over what the fucker did to you. He keeps thinking about all the things he could’ve done differently, of all the pain and hurt that could’ve been avoided if he’d just figured out sooner what was happening to you.

He keeps revisiting your conversations, everything he could have done differently to avoid this outcome because yes, you’re alive, but you’re not unscathed. You went through hell, and King almost took you away from Zoro. He still touched you and did unspeakable things to you. Zoro can’t help but blame himself for most of it. If only he’d been faster, stronger, smarter…

“Don’t think too much, Roronoa, you might strain a muscle.” Mihawk’s remark is teasing, and Zoro snorts in response, but doesn’t answer back. A confirmation that he is, indeed, thinking too much about things he cannot and will never be able to change.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Mihawk continues, as if he’s a mind-reader, when in reality he knows Zoro like he knows his prized sword. “None of it. So stop blaming yourself and stop thinking you could’ve done something differently. It doesn’t matter now. The bastard’s dead. You got the girl. You’re alive.”

“But…” Zoro starts, then stops, his teeth clattering together as he forces back the anger and the shame, the guilt and the rage. The words are stuck in his throat, drying it up and sucking all the air from his lungs. He never wanted to be a disappointment… but he needs to acknowledge it. Even if only to himself.

“I... I got a scar on my back. From a fucking blade.” His arm is still draped over his eye, and though Zoro doesn’t cry, the words sting and burn. Even more so because of how much he admires the person he’s saying them to.

Mihawk remains silent. 

For too damn long.

“Fuck. Just admit that I’m a fucking disappointment and–”

“I’m proud of you, son,” Mihawk states. Zoro removes his forearm from the front of his eye as it bores into Mihawk’s golden gaze. He doesn’t seem to be joking, hell, he doesn’t seem disappointed at all. 

“You gave your all to save a young woman’s life. You protected her with all you had and were willing to lie down your life in order to achieve it.” He sighs. “As far as I’m concerned, that scar on your back brings you pride, not shame. And you should look at it the same way.”

It takes every ounce of willpower in Zoro to school his features into perfect stoicism. Then he nods. “Thanks.” It’s all he manages to say, and even that one word comes out shaky and watery. 

“Anytime.”

-*-

In the afternoon, after Shanks leaves to take care of the animals, the nurses allow your friends to visit you, as long as they promise to be quiet and not all come in at once. 

The poor nurse doesn’t know your friends at all.

They come in all at once, hugging you, crying, drilling you with questions, and every other minute one of them asks if you are okay. It’s overwhelming. So much so, that Robin decides they should let you rest and shoos them all away as you promise to stay in touch and meet them as soon as you leave the hospital.

They try to check in on Zoro, but the nurses don’t allow them, as he’s still in critical condition and can’t be strained. You promise to send him their love as they all leave.

Nami stays behind, though. 

“I should’ve noticed…” She whispers while fidgeting with the blanket at the end of your bed, folding it neatly as her eyes turn brighter. “I mean, I did notice! And that’s why I’m so mad! I noticed something was different, but didn’t dig enough, didn’t ask you more questions. I– I’ve been such a shitty friend!”

Your smile is strained and saddened. She shouldn’t blame herself when you did your best to hide everything from them. To isolate yourself from the people closest to you. “Sweetie…” You begin, getting up on still-wobbly legs because of all the painkillers you’re on, clutching your broken arm against your chest. “It wasn’t your fault. I was the one who kept you all in the dark.”

Nami swallows a sob and hugs you tightly, minding your injuries like a worried mother, fussing over you, fixing your hair and hospital gown. “I know you did, but you were being threatened! It’s not like you could’ve told us what was happening! You didn’t tell Zoro, and he knew something was up! He didn’t let go, didn’t dismiss it as a bad moment, or just missing your father like we all did!”

You hug her back, patting her head. “Nami, I don’t think we should play the blame game. It happened. It’s over. I want to heal. Just… be there and help me heal. I never asked for more.”

“So just… be your friend?” She smiles.

“That’s all I need.”

With a nod, she wipes her tears and finishes straightening your hair, helping you get back into bed. “That I know how to do. Shanks said you had reporters camped at your house and that you should find a quiet place to stay until it all dies down.” You nod. “You can stay with me and Vivi, love, okay?”

Of course she would offer. You smile and nod. “Thank you, Nami.”

-*-

“Why are you still here, Trouble?” Zoro’s voice sounds more amused than upset, but you thought he was asleep. You straighten up in the uncomfortable hospital chair and take another sip of your coffee nonchalantly. “Didn’t the hospital dismiss you already?”

He’s right. You were dismissed two days ago, but he wasn’t. And you’ve been spending every possible moment with him, even when the nurses tell you to go home. Because how can you go home when the only place that feels safe enough to be called such is Zoro’s arms?

“They did.” You answer, crossing your legs as your gaze wanders. He looks better. Less pale, stronger, with more brightness in his eye. He’s still heavily bandaged, and there’s still an IV bag strapped to his arm, but he has been talking about leaving the hospital already, though the nurses assure you he still needs at least another five to seven days of rest. 

He’ll never stay that long, you’re sure of it. 

“You should be resting.” He reprimends. 

“I am! I was sleeping just a while ago.”

He sighs, looking at the discarded blanket at the back of your chair. “You were napping, it’s not the same as proper rest, in a bed, at home.”

Your eyes fall to the ground as you fidget with the coffee cup and set it aside. “I don’t want to go home…” It doesn’t feel like home anymore. It feels tainted, unsafe, dangerous. Captain Mihawk says they found cameras all over the house, even in your bedroom and bathroom. You were horrified by this knowledge and it sent your father into another spiral of guilt. 

Plus, the reporters are still hovering around the property, trying to get to you and hounding your dad as the next best thing. Shanks decked one of them in the jaw when he got extra nosy. Mihawk alleged the reporter was on private property, so Shanks was off the hook, even though he hit him far off the property grounds. 

“Why?” Zoro asks, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. He knows why. So he sighs and scoots to the side. “You don’t have to go, then. C’mere.” This time, you don’t even protest. You carefully climb into the bed and nestle against his strong body, getting hooked on the feeling of safety only he can provide. “Better?” You nod as he kisses the crown of your head. “Me too.”

After a long silence, in which both of you seem lost in your own thoughts, Zoro presses his cheek against your head and sighs heavily. “He’s dead.”

You just nod. You know that. Your head knows that, but your body still shudders every time you’re alone. Your heart still beats faster whenever you hear a foreign noise. Your eyes still sting when someone enters your space unwillingly. Your breath still hitches every time your phone vibrates. 

He’s gone, yes, but the scars he left behind will take an eternity to heal. 

-*-

You haven’t set foot in your house since it happened. Nami went with your father to bring your essentials and a change of clothes. She set up an inflatable mattress in her art room and you finally found some peace. 

Until the reporters find out that you’re staying there and then guilt settles into your chest, and you don’t want to impose. So you spend more time at the hospital, having befriended some nurses who particularly like you, and they let you sleep near Zoro.

Other than the fact that you barely rest, and he gets grumpy about it, he doesn’t contest to your being there. After almost ten days, he’s had enough and hounds the doctor to give him clearance, promising not to overexert himself. 

He gets released, but someone leaks the news and when you, Shanks and Zoro leave the hospital, there are more reporters than you can count, and suddenly, the air feels thicker. 

“Maybe I should talk to them and just get this over with…” You start, your voice already small and shaking, not wanting to relive the worst moments of your life. 

Then Zoro places one arm over your shoulder, pulling you to him as he nearly growls. “Like fuck you will. They’re just looking for gossip, I don’t want you having to relieve the experience just so they can get a scoop.” He turns to Shanks. “Can you go get the car, Mr. S.? We’ll wait here.”

Shanks nods while a frown presses on his lips, then he sighs and walks through the reporters, repeating ‘No comment’ over and over again, though you swear he’s cussing each and every one of them as he walks to the car. 

“You okay?” Zoro asks, concern shadowing his eye, and you sigh. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Stop worrying, Zo, you need to recover, not stress about me every single second.”

He smirks smugly and flicks your forehead, earning an indignant gasp. “Too bad. Worrying about you is in my blood, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

You scrunch your nose at him, your good hand rubbing the spot he flicked, even though it doesn’t hurt. “Idiot.” You mutter under your breath, and he chuckles, using two fingers to lift your chin so you can look at him.

“Your idiot.”

“Damn right.”

-*-

Healing hurts.

Not just physically, though each pull at the scars, each twist of a battered muscle, and each ache of your wrist has you wincing in agony. It’s the emotional scars that cause more pain. 

You’re seeing a therapist - doctor’s orders - and you talk, but the fear, the anxiety, and the overwhelming sense of being trapped are still buried deep in your bones. The therapist keeps saying you’re making progress, and there are days when you actually believe that.

And then there are terrible days. 

The reporters left Shanks’ property after three weeks, and though some still pop up once in a while, the novelty died down. They are still focusing on the story, but since the police caught Queen and Jack, both accomplices to King, the spotlight on you faded somewhat. 

While accompanying Zoro to physical therapy, he tells you that Mihawk informed him they managed to connect the cameras in your house to Queen. They caught Jack because of DNA collected from hair found at the overlook, where Lucci’s eyes were discovered. 

The weight in your chest doesn’t lift, it constrains you further. You didn’t even think about the fact that King’s accomplices could still be out there. What if they had come for you? What if they wanted to avenge their fallen comrade and gone after Zoro?

“Fuck!” Zoro grunts as thick beads of sweat drip from his forehead to the tip of his nose. His arms give out, his knees follow, and he slumps down onto the mat with another curse and a grunt.

You fight against your strongest instinct to rush to him and instead shove your idle hand beneath your leg, biting your lip as Zoro’s physical therapist tuts and sighs. “I said breathe, didn’t I?” Doctor Kureha is not the most patient of women, but maybe that’s exactly what Zoro needs for these sessions. “Your core is not strong enough, boy, stop pretending like you’re in a brutal training session. These things take time to heal.”

“Again.” Zoro growls, already setting himself back into plank position, this time willing to last longer than ten seconds. 

“Not yet. Your body is still–”

“I said again, woman.” Zoro inhales sharply and you see the way his body trembles under the strain. This time you do get up, kneeling down next to him.

“Hey, Zo. Please, take it easy.” He grits his teeth together and avoids your gaze. You know Zoro hates to feel weak, limited and useless. Even though he’s already doing exercices that he should only try for another week or two. He’s strong. But he’s also stubborn.

“You need to be patient, boy, or you’ll permanently damage your body. And there’s no coming back from that.”

“Tch.” Zoro struggles, his shoulders shaking from the effort, but then he lowers his knee and sets it on the mat to relieve the strain on his core. “Fine.”

You sigh in relief and kiss his temple before returning to your seat. 

Healing hurts. And you’re not the only one doing it.

-*-

The nights are the hardest. 

You finally leave Nami’s house, thinking that you’re already imposing, even though she assures you that you’re not, but then you don’t head home immediately. You leave your stuff in your car and go to Zoro’s, avoiding returning home like the plague.

If he knows what you’re doing, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, you help him with some simple exercises Dr. Kureha recommended for him to do at home and in between sessions, then you order pizza and watch trash TV for a while.

You can feel all of the unsaid things floating around both of you. The guilt, the shame, the helplessness you both felt, you’ve been skirting around it as if it were a living thing, ready to bite or claw at any given moment.

Instead, you talk about trivial stuff.

But the hurt is still there. 

You can see Zoro needs to rest, so you kiss him goodbye and finally head home for the first time since the nightmare ended. You need some extra seconds inside the car to collect yourself before you finally climb the steps to the porch. 

Each step feels daunting. Your hand grips the handrail so tightly your knuckles turn white. You close your eyes to take a deep breath, and a quick flash of a succession of images passes before your eyes: dead animals, blood, a gutless cat pinned to the door, the note… the threats, the fear.

You swallow down a sob as your heart rate increases. “He’s gone, he’s gone,” you whisper an unending litany as you try to calm your erratic heart. 

“Bug, you’re home?”

Shanks. Your dad is ‘safety’, you’re fine, you’ll be fine.

“Yeah, Dad,” you answer and compose yourself before he opens the door with a strained smile. “I’m… home.” The word still feels foreign, but you ignore it.

Ignore the pain.

“Let me help you.” Shanks reaches for your small bag and ushers you inside. He’s also wearing a strained smile, which you can’t help but notice. And then, at dinner, you and he also dance around the important subjects. 

It’s like you’re made of glass, and everyone is scared to grab you too tightly, or to drop you. 

Including yourself.

You propose a movie night, and Shanks immediately says yes, clearly wanting to spend more time with you and using the excuse of it being cold to nestle you under his arm, cradling you against his body - protecting you, like he failed to do while he was away.

It’s too much.

You fake a headache and excuse yourself, saying you need rest. You do need rest, except you already know there won’t be much of it in this house.

Still, you do your nighttime routine and even try to read for a little bit before your eyelids feel heavy. You close the book and use the covers of the bed to try and disappear. The light is still on, but it seems as if the shadows are even more menacing now. 

Every creak of the old house brings you flashes of the time when you were alone and helpless, every night sound coming from the outside of the house feels like a heavy footstep, and thunder in the distance sounds like a pound on the door. 

You’re nowhere near healed. 

The nightmare is nowhere near over. 

And the pain doesn’t disappear. It lingers.

-*-

Your days all seem the same. You help Shanks with the chores, trying to get back to normalcy, but never quite getting there because you see the way your father looks at you. It’s not pity, it’s guilt. He blames himself for all that’s happened to you while he was away, and with each new day that passes, you fear that he’ll never really get over that feeling. 

You spend your afternoons with Zoro, going to therapy or physical therapy, listening to him complain about how he already feels good enough to get back to work, but then watching as he struggles with basic exercises and avoids dealing with his mounting frustration by pushing himself harder and harder.

He looks at you with guilt, too. But that is your fault as well, since you know he could’ve acted sooner if you’d just told him earlier. So you don’t address the subject, nor does he. And it festers like an infected wound. 

Zoro’s also more protective and worried than ever. He used to look out for you before, but now it’s worse. It’s not like before, when he saw physical obstacles or mundane situations where you would get hurt and had you avoid them before you could harm yourself. Now it’s like he’s attentive to another kind of danger, to something that might lurk in the shadows, to something he can’t see or won’t be able to protect you from.

Your own guilt swells. 

Healing seems so far away…

You barely sleep again. And it shows, you know it does. Zoro and Shanks keep looking at you as if you’ll break at any minute, even though you try to plaster your best fake smile around them. Your therapist suggests antidepressants and you dismiss the thought immediately.

“Is that because you want to prove to everybody that you’re strong, or just to yourself?” She asks, kindness in her eyes, but you don’t know how to answer that.

She still prescribes the drugs and tells you to think about taking them. 

You don’t think about it. You do want to be strong, as strong as Zoro, who keeps pushing his limits, as strong as Shanks, who keeps fighting off random reporters and gossipy magazines. 

But you can’t. 

And one night, everything crumbles. 

You’re in bed, fighting off sleep as you usually do, thinking that you’ll nap tomorrow at Zoro’s, or after lunch while watching a movie with your father. Still postponing the inevitable, still avoiding whatever might trigger you.

But then you fall asleep from exhaustion, as you did on many nights when King was still terrorizing you. 

And it’s like you’re trapped again. You feel King’s hands roaming your body, his weight pressed upon your naked body, his breath hot against your lips, your tears scalding as they drip down your face.

You try to scream for help, but you can’t even open your mouth. And he keeps touching you, claiming you, taking away bits of your soul that you can’t and will never get back. “That’s it, Kitten, purr for me.” It’s like he’s right there, it’s like he never left.

It’s too much. 

You wake up with a jolt, panting, and with your screams all trapped in your throat. You can’t stop shaking and shivering; the walls close in on you, and the air is suffocating. You can still feel the pressure on top of you, the way his fingers groped flesh, the way his breath fanned your skin. You don’t feel safe.

Shanks can’t help. 

But Zoro can. 

With a whimper, you get up on wobbly legs, trying to be quiet because you don’t want to worry your father further. You still leave a note for him before heading outside, though. 

Driving your car with your arm in a cast is a challenge, but it’s the middle of the night, and there’s barely any car outside, so you somehow manage.

When you park outside Zoro’s apartment, you still can’t shake away the phantom touch of King, the grip he has on your mind and body, and just knowing that Zoro is a few steps away has more tears flooding your eyes. 

You knock desperately on his door, hiccups and sobs taking over as your chest heaves with gasps and pain. Zoro opens the door with groggy eyes, his hair messy and a tiredness in his eye that’s been branded permanently since this whole thing started.

“Hey!” He calls your name, and his eye widens as soon as he takes a good look at you. Then he reaches for you and pulls you inside, looking at both sides of the hallway before closing the door and locking it. 

You’re shivering, convulsing with sobs and tears, there’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you need… you need… “Zoro…” Him.

The wail that escapes your lips alongside his name seems to physically hurt him. Zoro winces and hugs you, pulling you against him tight, ignoring both your wounds this time, because who cares about physical pain when his hug can obliterate all that is destroying your mind?

“Zo… Zo…” You can’t utter a full sentence, you can only sob and dig your nails into his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Is– fuck, did anybody hurt you?” He growls, his body becoming taut. “Tell me!”

You shake your head frantically. “No, no… it’s…” More tears and sobs wreck you, and Zoro looks lost. Helpless again because he can’t help you if you don’t tell him what’s wrong. “A nightmare… I…” You inhale deeply. “It felt real. I felt his hands, his mouth, I–... I was trapped again.”

Zoro takes a deep, shaky breath, his eye closing as he rests his head against the crown of yours, his hand soothing your back, caressing up and down to ground you. “He’s gone… he’s dead. You’re safe.”

And though you know his words are true, you can’t stop the sobs. So he doesn’t say anything else, he just lets you cry, holding you through it all as you cling to him like he’s your only lifeline. He’s warm and solid. He’s your rock, he’s your safety net, he’s your everything.

And you need to stop hiding things from him, you need to talk, or you’ll drift apart. And you don't think you can survive that separation. 

When you’ve calmed down, you try to pull back with a sniffle, your hands rubbing your face to dry it, but Zoro doesn’t let you go. He pulls you to the couch, into his lap, and you clutch his shirt, burying your face against the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply. 

“Wanna talk?” He asks, his voice clipped like he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. 

“I do.” The sigh he lets out is filled with relief. “I can’t be at my father’s house anymore. I– It doesn’t feel safe. I’m always waiting for King to appear out of nowhere, to grab me, to terrorize me… I can’t sleep, I don’t rest…”

A lingering sob still shakes your lips as you inhale, but Zoro doesn’t interrupt you, though you still feel the tautness in his body. 

“The therapist suggested some pills that are supposed to help with PTSD and anxiety, but–... I want to be strong and–”

“You’re still strong if you take meds. There’s no shame in it.”

An unwanted scoff escapes your lips. “You’re not taking them.”

“Not everybody deals with shit the same way, Trouble.” Zoro closes his eye and sighs, his breath warm against your temple. “I can’t stand to see you like this again. I feel like I’m losing you… like I’m powerless against an invisible force that’s pulling you from me. And this time… this time I don’t think I can defeat it. Because I can’t even see it.”

His grip on you tightens, and so does your throat. All the unsaid things, the unspoken words of the last few weeks seem to weigh on you. It’s your fault… it’s all your fault again. 

“Take the meds…” He continues. “Please, take care of you, Trouble. I’m here, but there’s only so much I can do to help you. You need to want to help yourself too.” He raises his hand to cup your cheek and forces you to look at him, and what you see reflected in his eye scares you. He seems haunted and afraid, so unlike the unshakable Zoro you’re used to. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

You nod, forcing back another wave of tears. Then he takes your lips softly and you let him. You’ve pecked him a few times after the hospital, but not like this, not in a way that feels like you’re drowning and he’s the one giving you life. 

Zoro deepens the kiss, and you open your mouth so his tongue can chase yours. The slow kiss is very different from the ones you shared when you first had sex with him, but it’s much more intimate, more raw and exposed. 

You need more.

You shift in his lap, and he groans, his hands gripping tighter as he stiffens with pain. 

You pull back fast, stepping out of his lap, but still sitting near him, your hands still cupping his cheeks as your eyes search his. Sure enough, he’s in pain as little drops of sweat trickle down his temple. “Fuck, Trouble. I want to, but…”

You chuckle, your chest feeling lighter for the first time in a very long while. “I know. Let’s take it slow, shall we?” He nods with a frustrated sigh, and you run your fingers through his hair. “There's no rush. We have all the time in the world, right?”

Zoro stares at you, his jaw clenching as he smiles softly. He traces your cheekbone with his thumb, letting it settle on your lips, then pinches your chin, pulling you closer to seal the deal with an innocent peck. “We do.”

You both sigh as you settle back into his arms. Then, after a moment of silence, you continue. 

“I can’t sleep in that house anymore…” You confess. And it’s another weight off your shoulders. Finally admitting to someone other than yourself that your house doesn’t feel safe, isn’t comforting, it’s not a haven, but hell itself. 

Zoro nods in understanding and gets up, extending his hand for you to take it. “Did you tell Shanks where you were?” You reply with a yes, so he leads you to his bedroom, taking another pillow from the closet for you to use. “Let’s rest, okay?”

You nod once more, and soon enough, you’re both snuggled under his covers, close, but not on top of each other so as not to strain any of your wounds. 

Maybe healing doesn’t have to hurt so much?

It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim you, exhaustion taking you under in a few minutes. Zoro follows shortly, his breaths evening out too, because, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it himself, every minute he’s away from you, it’s hell on earth. 

He needs you as much as you need him. You were both just too stubborn to admit it.

-*-

You had the best rest in a while, and though your body still feels battered and bruised as you wake up, you feel calm. 

Yawning, you adjust your eyes to the light coming from the window, and the first thing you notice is that Zoro isn’t next to you. You frown. Maybe he’s in the bathroom?

But then you hear noises coming from his closet, and you turn. Sure enough, Zoro’s inside, moving shirts around and tossing others to the floor, folding some jeans and setting them aside.

Is he cleaning? Or…? You blush, a small smile creeping up your lips. “What are you doing, you big Mosshead?”

Zoro chuckles, a smirk tugging at his lips, as if he’s happy you’re feeling cheerful and back to your old self. “What does it look like, Trouble? I’m spring cleaning.”

Bastard. You snort. Then he sniffs one shirt, grimaces, and throws it onto the pile on the floor before turning to another one, his back turned to you. 

“I’m making space for your stuff.”

Yep, that’s what you thought. Your chest swells, and you bite your lower lip to contain an excited giggle. “For me?”

He turns back slightly, a frown on his lips as his ears turn red. “If you want. You said your house doesn’t feel like home anymore, so… maybe my home can… be yours too?” Then he turns back to the closet, not wanting to face you, perhaps afraid you’ll reject his offer. 

So you get up on tiptoes, stand behind him, and bring your uninjured arm softly around his torso, letting your head rest against the planes of his back. “Thank you.” You whisper and he stiffens for a second before relaxing. “I would love to.”

Zoro nods, then clears his throat and continues his closet inspection. “Yeah, well… yeah. It’s just space in a closet.”

Sure it is. 

And the gesture is so… Zoro, that it makes you warm and tingly all over. 

“Yes, it is, Zo.” You kiss his back and flop back on the bed with the biggest smile in weeks, months, even. 

You’ve made up your mind. After today’s session, you will start taking those pills. And no more hiding stuff from Zoro, your dad, or your friends. Sure, healing is hard, painful, and it hurts.

But it doesn’t have to.

Not all the time, at least.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall

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|Epilogue🔞|

[mxrtixnzwrld]

What's Wrong w/ Nanami?

Synopsis! you've working for Jujutsu Tokyo for a while now as Nanami's secretary and you're sick of how your schedule leaks into your personal life. you go to quit and nanami isn't havin' it.

Pairing! kento n. x fem. reader

Content. MDNI! office au, ceo. nanami, jealousy, 'work wife' usage, series, piv, proposal, petnames, gojo mention, higuruma mention, intern itadori + more

Word Count! 2.1k

Authors Note! this story is very loosely inspired by 'whats wrong with secretary kim' and it kinda gave cocky nanami so i decided to write my own little version of it as my first series of this page. i'll add tags as i post more chapters of the series but please let me know if you have any recommendations for the series.

You have been working for Mr. Nanami for a couple of years now and finally understood why he was so feared respected by his coworkers. You were hired as an assistant secretary and bound to replace his current secretary.

-

"He's not that bad once you work here long enough.." Shoko mumbled as she exhaled the deep breath of smoke from her cigarette.

"I'm not too worried about it, but what'd Miss Yuki get fired for?" You asked, looking at her as you took a bite of your lunch. Her eyes met yours as she chuckled.

"She had relations with President Gojo, and Nanami found out," Shoko answered for you to pause.

"As long as you keep your head down and do your job, you should be good-" Shoko continued before the door swung open to reveal Kiyotaka.

"I'm sorry to interrupt Miss (name); Nanami would like to see you in his office." He says, walking up to you and Shoko's table. The umbrella above you rustled with the small gusts of wind as you looked at Kiyotaka, annoyed.

"Can it wait a bit? I wanted to finish-"

Before you can get the sentence out, Nanami walks out the door with an irritated look on his face, coming straight towards you. Kiyotaka shrunk and silently snuck away as Nanami got to your table.

"Miss (name). You clearly didn't understand your job description if you are 4 minutes late to a meeting as important as this one." Nanami huffed as he stood before you and Shoko, who mirrored the same look of surprise.

"But sir, my scheduled break is-"

"I can move it back to later. Please pack your things and follow me; it wouldn't look good if I had to fire you your first couple months here for your incompetence." He stated in a calm, chilling tone, making you straighten up and throw your belongings in your bag before standing and waving back at Shoko as you followed Nanami to his meeting.

-

Now, in your years here, you have his schedule down to the letter. You come early to meetings, and he doesn't even have to ask you for daily documents. But the longer you work at Jujutsu Tokyo, the more you realize that your life revolves more and more around your CEO. All of which brings you to your current moment now.

"You're quitting?" Nanami asked as he looked at your resignation letter.

"Sadly, yes, Mr Nanami." You answer, bowing silently as he stares at you in disbelief. You had been the best secretary he's had in a while. Always on time: punctual, you had even stopped to do the little things like fix his suit and run and get his lunch no matter how big the order. All while staying on top of your work with your intern Yuuji Itadori.

"I don't see the issue, sir. You have Itadori to help you with your tasks and-"

"He isn't as experienced as you."

"Well, whip him into shape the same way you did me." You huff, maintaining your tone of respect, causing him to sigh and rest his head in his hand.

"Can you wait until after the company's art gallery opens?" He pinched his nose as his room filled with thick air.

"I suppose.. but after that, I must take my leave." You sigh as he looks up at you.

"Of course; you have until then to train Itadori to be your work clone." He says for your eye to twitch. Getting in your position with Nanami took years, and he expected you to do that all in 6 months?

"I will try my best, sir."

"Good."

You exited his office and softly closed the door before returning to your desk to text Shoko and the Marketing Manager Tsuki about what had just happened.

Nanami slouched in his office. He had just gotten used to you, and you just want to quit? You were the best candidate for the job, but something else pulled at him. You were completely right; he had Itadori, so why couldn't you leave?

He didn't want you to leave.

You were too important to the company.

Too important to him.

No! He sat up in his chair and sighed, focusing back on the pile of paperwork on his desk that seemed to pile up with upcoming events and meetings. Although well spaced out, it was all still so stressful.

His mind wandered and wandered before he reigned it back in. He couldn't think of you as anything more than an employee. An asset to his company... a big asset that he was going to lose if he didn't convince you to stay, and he would have to figure out how. And quick.

–

“Shoko, Mr Nanami would like to see you.” You walk up to the cubicles as eyes turn to you. Childish oo's went over the desks as she stood and chuckled.

“Did he say what for?” She asked for you to shrug with Itadori following you in toe. Ever since that meeting, you made sure to keep Itadori around at all times possible to make sure he got the most information about her job as he could.

You walked through the hallway with sounds of clicking from heels, shoes, and typing, filling the silence as you led Shoko to Nanami’s office, which was covered by a huge door. 

“Good luck, soldier.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m good.” Shoko chuckles as you knock on Nanami’s office door. He replies with a quiet ‘come in,’ causing you to open the door to see Nanami sitting at his desk writing, not even making eye contact with you. Shoko stepped through the door, and you swiftly closed it, sitting back at your desk.

“He seems real intense.” Itadori sighed as you nodded and opened your tabs on the two monitors on your desk to pull up Nanami’s schedule along with your emails.

“He is. That’s kind of the reason I’m leaving..” You sigh as you look at him.

“You seem so good at your job, though! And it seems to pay well.” He says, watching your screen as you go through emails, swiftly replying and occasionally sharing emails.

“The pay is good, but I heard Higuruma is hiring a new secretary for his law firm, and since Jujutsu Tokyo and his law firm are in good connections, I thought it’d be better to move over there.” You explain.

“Is your job hard? I’ve only been here for a month or two, but it doesn’t seem that busy.” Itadori asked. The two of you sit in silence as the sound of your computer fills the area. Nanami wasn't horrible to you when it came to your office. If it was empty, you could snack on something small before your lunch, and your desk was decorated and even had a humidifier that sat on the edge of your desk.

 “It’s not too hard, but it gets in the way… I haven’t been out anywhere in a while, and I don’t like using my PTO unless it’s an emergency. Especially since I’m so close to Mr. Nanami at all times, I usually just go to work and sleep because of his overtime. If he’s in a good mood, I can go home early, but my schedule doesn’t clear up at all.” You rant lowly to the younger man.

“Higuruma’s past secretaries have said that he’s not as bad when it comes to scheduling since his law firm isn’t as big as Jujutsu Tokyo overall.” 

“Do you think I could live up to that? The expectation, I mean.” Itadori asked before you rested a hand on his head. You ruffle his hair and smile at him comfortingly. The job was hard, but with encouragement, it was manageable. The only difference is that when you started, there was no encouragement unless it came from Kiyotaka or Shoko, and it took a while for one of them to even speak to you outside of regular work conditions.

“Of course, you could. If he selected you as an intern, then he sees enough potential for you to be his next secretary.” He smiled and lifted his arm to flex, pulling back his sleeve to show his muscle.

“For you; I’ll do my best!” His optimism always made you smile. It was so infectious. 

You chuckle and make small talk, asking him how he even ended up applying here to this dead-end job.

–

“You asked for me, Nanami?” Shoko asked for Nanami and looked up at her with tired eyes that could pierce someone's soul. He had stayed up the night before, making sure everything was perfect for the concept of an art show. Making sure his pitch and tone were perfect for the upcoming meeting.

“Jeez, you look stressed,” Shoko said with a lopsided smile as Nanami pushed up from his mahogany desk to stand tall. His suit perfectly highlighted his muscular body.

“You’re close with Ms.(name) correct?” He asked, ignoring the informality due to their high school years.

“Close enough.” 

“How would I stop her from quitting?” He asked for Shoko to pause. That was out of the ordinary for him. Nanami, to everyone else, was the type to fire someone at the drop of the hat. Even in scenarios where good secretaries left the company, he was never usually caught up on it and just hired another one. 

“Why, if I may ask, are you concerned about her quitting? Don’t you usually hire a new one?” She asked as Nanami walked around his desk and leaned on it so they could speak face to face. 

“Well… I’ve noticed before she resigned that she was already unmotivated, and she shows a good amount of talent that I haven’t seen in any of my past secretaries.” He explained, knowing that it was only half of the full truth. 

“Well, she doesn’t get out much. She probably feels the way you do since you two basically have the same schedule.” She sighs for Nanami to respond with a pinch of his nose along with a frustrated sigh. 

His office sat silent as the two talked. He knew that he was stressed, but she didn’t do much when they were in the office together. At the most, she fetched paperwork missing from his pile and made sure to inform him of any meetings that were added last minute to his schedule.

“So, give her more days off? She could’ve asked for that any time before that.” He huffed.

“The last time she did, you had an attitude about it, so I guess she decided not to do it after that.” 

“So what should I do?” He asked again

“Well, you can try being more lenient with her. Try to be more nice. Like if I didn’t know you, I would have thought that you’re a no-shit CEO who won’t tolerate any mistake.” She sighed.

“Hmm, I think I came up with something. Thank you for your information, Shoko, please make sure to give Ms.(name) her documents before the end of the work day; I’d rather not have her stay longer than she usually does.” He nods as she nods back. She leaves with a bow, being met with you and Itadori giggling at your desk as the two talk amongst eachother. 

“Ok! Ok! I’ll organize the files the way you showed me.” He laughed as you put him in a playful headlock. 

“What are you two doing?” Shoko asked, getting a gasp from you before you moved away from Itadori.

“Shoko! You scared me!” You say, straightening up in your chair.

“Ms.(name) was just showing me where each file goes, but there are so many I lost track,” Itadori replied.

“Well, you two should tighten up. Nanami seems irritated.” Shoko said for you to nod. She walked back to her cubicle before Nanami came out moments after.

“Itadori, are you good with notes?” He asked Itadori for the boy to scramble to his feet and enthusiastically nodded.

“Good. Ms.(name) take the rest of the day off. I will teach Itadori anything he needs to learn while you are off.” He says calmly, for you and Itadori to look at eachother as if the sky started falling.

“D-Did I do something wrong, Mr.Nanami?” You asked him to shake his head in response.

“Of course not, Ms.(name). You have seemed stressed as of late, so I would like you to take a day off to recuperate; take some time for yourself.” He said for you to look up at him amazed without a sound.

“Wait, Ms.(name)! Before you go, can we exchange numbers, just in case?” Itadori asked for you to smile and hand him your phone. After you exchange numbers, you begin to pack your bag to leave.

What's going on with him?

©mxrtixnzwrld. do not copy, modify, translate, repost any of my work! reblogging is greatly appreciated!!

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[luveline]

Can I request an Eddie and roan story where something happens and Eddie is quite vulnerable and upset and roan finds him at the kitchen table so she goes and gets reader to help cheer him up. Hurt comfort

ty for requesting ♡ eddie and roan fem!reader, 1.7k

cw grief

It's a bad idea, but Eddie opens the photo frame on the sill. He moves the small metal holdings aside, peeling away the velvet back to reveal the hidden photograph waiting beneath.

His hands are trembling as he picks it up. The edges are soft but the photo itself is pristine, a perfect polaroid taken from her waist height, angled up as she smiled down. 

Eddie puts it back. Closes the frame, sets the photograph right side up on the sill next to your vase. His hands shake as he stuffs them in his pockets, a hard lump aching in his throat. I shouldn't have looked, he thinks to himself, sitting down at the dining table freshly cleared after dinner. 

He couldn't not look. As he washed the dishes after dinner, he'd found his gaze drifting. The photo framed is a simple close up of Roan at her last birthday, her face painted pink, purple, and white in the shape of a butterfly with silver glitter accents. The secret photograph is stupid to keep secret, he should put in pride of place, he should be a fucking man about it—

If you could hear his thoughts you'd frown. Maybe do that silly sweet thing with your hand on his cheek and your soft eyes imploring as they look into his. God, Eddie would give you anything you asked for when you look at him like that. But he doesn't tell you about the photograph, how could he? It's his. It's the last bit of her. 

He looks down at the wooden grain of the dining room table. Without thinking, he springs to his feet, removes the frames backing, and takes the photograph of his mom into his hand a second time. 

She looks so young. Younger than Eddie is now. He must have been a really little kid when he took the photo, old enough to have worked the camera but young enough that he can't remember the moment. Can't remember what she said, what she was laughing about, how that sounded. He can't remember her smell. 

How could I forget that? he thinks, stricken. 

Eddie ducks his head. He drops back into his chair at the table, pinching the bridge of his nose between a calloused index finger and a softer thumb. Don't, he thinks desperately, even as his thoughts race to a more cruel place. I don't remember her. 

She's beautiful in the photo. Willowy and smiling, crouching ever so slightly with a hand braced on her knee. Her lips are curved up a touch and parted with a laugh, but Eddie theories now that she wasn't laughing. Maybe she was telling him something he doesn't remember anymore. Maybe she was telling him that she loved him— 

"Dad?" 

Eddie hides the photograph without thinking. "Yeah?" 

His voice cracks. Roan stares at him with wide eyes, brown as his own but with longer lashes. She's quicker to smile than he was at her age, though none of that lightness shines at present. 

"I'll get Y/N," she says hurriedly, spinning on her socked heel and hurtling back the way she came. 

"Ro!" he says, clearing his throat. "Fuck. Fuck." He wipes at his wet eyes. Fucking great. 

"Y/N!" he hears Roan shout, her panic a raw thing. He can see the look on your face a floor away. "You have to– we have to go help dad!" 

There's a lapse in shouting. Eddie would put the photograph away, wipe his eyes, and run to set things straight if he could; you don't deal with abrupt circumstances well and he hates to think of how your heart is racing, but he can't stop crying. 

Your footsteps sound and stop at the kitchen doorway. 

"Eds. You okay?" you ask. 

"I'm fine, I'm," —he starts to laugh, but the laugh turns into crying, everything a mess— "okay. Tell Roan it's okay." 

"Okay. Two seconds." Eddie covers his face, trying desperately to get a handle on things as you speak in hushed tones. "It's okay, Ro, alright? How about I put some TV on for you? Would that be good?" 

"I want to stay," she whispers. 

You pause. Eddie loses bits of time and conversation, wiping madly at his eyes, his head heavy as a bowling ball and aching as though it's been hit by one. Roan must agree to watch TV or at the least pretend to, because you return alone, pushing the table away from him to stand skewiff by his legs.

Eddie feels like he's choking on air. "Sorry." 

"Eddie, what's happening, honey?" You touch his shoulder tentatively. "What's wrong?" 

He tries to tell you and it hurts worse. Grief is super weird, it always has been (when it wasn't solely and unsympathetically devastating), and Eddie's grief tends to hide away for long periods of time. Like a brewing storm, pressure builds, and builds, and he knew looking at her photo wouldn't end well but she was just so pretty.

He presses his forehead to balled fists. 

You sigh like he's hurt you, curling protectively over his hunched back. Your cheek to a heaving shoulder, you rub at his tensed spine with your palm spread. "It's okay," you whisper, hugging him gently. "Sweetheart, it's okay. You have to tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." 

"You can't," he says, his voice rough as gravel. 

You kiss his shoulder. 

A handful of seconds and you pull back to look him in the eye. "Let me try?" 

He shakes his head softly, reaching into his lap. He's careful to dry his hands before he picks up his mother's photo, placing it with care on the table. You follow his movements, your lips twitching with understanding as you realise what it is. "That's your mom."

"Yeah, she…" 

"I've never seen this one." 

Eddie doesn't have many, but he has a few that he treasures. One framed on the living room mantle, four or five kept in safe keeping with Wayne. You nudge the corner of the polaroid to shield it from the glare of the kitchen fluorescents. 

"She looks really young." 

"She was younger than we are now. She didn't… it couldn't have been five years before she…" 

You don't condescend, your empathy palpable as you murmur, "Aw, Eddie. I'm so sorry. It's not fair." 

His eyes burn. His nose tickles. He closes his eyes and shoves the brunt of his palm against his socket. "I can't remember what she was trying to say. What kind of son am I?" 

"No, no," you crouch down and place your hands on his thighs, "what do you mean? Is that why you're upset? Babe, I can't remember things you said to me last night, you know that? That's not how memory works." 

"But it was important. I took the photo, I should remember." 

"You were young… I'm sorry, I wish you could remember, but," —you hold the photo up carefully— "with a smile like that, it's not hard to guess, right?" Your voice is smooth and soft as angora silk, though it pills as you continue, "I bet she's just telling you that you're doing a good job. Same way you say it to Ro. You must've gotten it from somewhere." 

A half sob shudders out of him. "I hope so." 

You pat his thigh. "You gonna be okay?" you ask, eyebrows pinched. 

He leans into the chair, the armrests groaning as he tries to breathe. His breath hisses from between his teeth. "Shit, sorry. I'm sorry. I'm alright, just, sometimes I remember she's gone and I realise I lost another little part of her and–" 

"It's okay." You stroke a strand of hair from his face. He relaxes at the simplicity of it, a routine gesture. "She's not lost, Eddie. You're not losing her. Yeah? That's not how it works. She's your mom forever." 

"I guess you never stop wanting your mom, huh?" he asks. His throat burns like nothing he's ever felt. 

"I guess not." 

Eddie's tears peter out eventually, aided by the way you hold his hands as though they're delicately made and the constant steadiness of your presence, your head dipping down intermittently to press kisses to the side of his thumb. He can't shake the feeling of grief and he doubts that he'll feel much better tonight, but the need to cry dissipates. He's drained suddenly, like he's held his breath too long, every inhale an ache. 

Roan comes to investigate the quiet. She tiptoes in, her lips parted in confusion, but her puzzlement doesn't stop her from snaking between his legs and your arms to sit in your lap. He's scared her, he knows, and he can't blame her for the way she wraps her arms around your stomach. Like he said: you never stop wanting your mom. 

Roan twists her neck to look at him. You plant a kiss behind her ear. 

"Are you okay, dad?" she asks. 

"I'm okay." 

"Why were you crying?" 

"I don't know, Ro. I guess I was hurting." 

"Did you cut yourself on the sharp knife?" she asks worriedly. 

Eddie chucks her under the chin. "Not that kind of hurt, babe." 

She frowns as though he's told her off and buries her face in his knees. Eddie folds down onto her like a cheap tent in a hurricane, craving the comfort of his little girl, knowing she's here, and that she's not going anywhere. "Is it okay if I squeeze you?" he asks. 

"Yeah, dad. But only this time. You squeezed me too hard last time." She huffs, chewing over her words even as she hugs her father back ferociously. "You're rough." 

"I said sorry already," he says lightly. His eyes scrunch closed. He has to try hard not to burst into a second round of tears as he smells her hair. "I'm really sorry, I thought you liked being squeezed." 

"I don't mind if it's to make you feel better." 

You laugh through your nose. Eddie clings. "Thank you." He's saying it to you, too. He really hopes that you know that. "I feel way, way better already." 

[sabrecrane]

Battling Writer's Block

Believe it or not there are people out there who believe that writer's block isn't a thing. Nope, I'm not kidding, that is what my lecturer said last year and I just want to assure anyone that may believe it doesn't exist/ or are thinking of giving up on their work, don't. It is a very real thing and is very common to experience especially if you've written so much that you've managed to burn yourself out. Also, nobody in my class liked that lecturer for the rest of the year after making that comment so if you don't believe it's real...I wish you luck is all I'm gonna say lol.

So how do you prevent this?

Well first of all, you can't, but you can decrease how likely it is to happen.

Organisation

First thing is first, get your notes and your characters down somewhere you can look at them. Organisation will help a ton. Personally I have notes scattered all over the place both physical and on a folder on my laptop. Ideas come at random so I jot them down and then always forgot to put the physical notes somewhere. This meant I got stressed because I knew I had a good idea but couldn't remember exactly what it was. I did end up finding the notes and have now bought a folder to store my papers in. But this disorganisation meant I spent a lot of time overthinking my skills as a writer which then affected my confidence and ultimately resulted in writer's block.

Create

The next thing you can do is relax and create. Plots will come in time, focus on creating -- that's the fun bit especially if you're working in the fantasy or sci-fi genre! Don't create your plots first because as soon as you create your characters you might realise those plots won't work with those characters anymore. While this may not directly contribute to writer's block it definitely could affect your confidence so if you already have a good plot idea but find your characters don't fit then store away the idea for later to use with characters that will work for it.

Also I know I only focused on the writing aspect of creation but if you want to create other things then do that, too! Draw, make models, maybe a small mistake you make might give you inspiration!

Take a walk

This is common advice I see and that is taking a walk. If you can't find the inspiration to work on your current project but want to write something, grab your laptop or notebook and just wander around in a park and focus on your senses. What can you hear? What are the conversations people are having? What can you see? Try and show it instead of telling. Is there wind, can you feel it?

Create Your Own Definition For Your Favourite Words

If you don't want to write something too complicated and can feel your motivation disappearing but want to try and regain it, search for words and show your meanings for it instead of what the official definition is. For example the word 'love', the official definition is generalised and always straight to the point but the word means different things for different people. So what is love to you?

Poetry

Adding onto the previous paragraph, maybe try poetry! Last year I was dreading my poetry module but I have actually enjoyed it so far. I never thought I would but at 3am I find myself drafting up a poem to work on the next day. I do have old notes somewhere so when I find them I'll post them here so you have a sort of visual for how some poetry forms work. My favourite type of poetry is freeverse so if you're wanting to create a story without necessarily rhyming but keeping within the poetry theme, that would be a great way to start!

Relax

Finally, read. Sit down somewhere with a cup of hot chocolate or your favourite drink and read. Take some time for yourself, your writing isn't going anywhere and either way it takes time. Writing is a skill to develop not something to rush. Rushing will result in confusion and you may miss out some minor plot points you wanted to add. Reading helps you learn so pick out pieces that you enjoy from the book and see if you can incorporate it into your own work somehow.

To all my fellow writers out there, take a breath. Everything will come to you in time.

[blkgirl-writing]

Valentine's day drabble HCs for the men of BG3 x Reader

These are a collection of small drabbles written in different styles for valentines day! Warning Gales is the longest, whoops.

Gale:

Gales cold warm hands grasped around your waist from behind, squeezing your skin gently as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"The earl grey lavender, please-" He kissed your neck softly, speaking in a quiet tone. It was a perfect day inside his tower, the rays of sun beaming through the stained glass, fluttering rainbows across the cozy kitchen. The kettle whistles quieting down as you took it off the stove.

"It's already in the mug, lovely" You gestured to his favorite mug, a heavy stoneware piece decorated with flowers of purple and pink encased in a golden heart, he said it reminded him of when he realized he had loved you. You never fully asked why, but it made enough sense to be sweet.

"How you know me so well." Gale Smiled. You finished pouring the water and handed him his extra-strong tea. He leaned against the counter, blowing on the drink a few times. "Maybe I should have told you earlier, but I do have a surprise for you."

"I thought we said no gifts!" You batted his shoulder playfully, "though I'll admit, I didn't follow that rule either."

"is that so?" Gale leaned in to kiss your lips through a smile. "We just can't seem to help ourselves."

"So what's this gift?" you asked. He set down his own mug, ducking into the pantry to retrieve a box, unwrapped and simple. He placed it on the counter and patiently waited, his excitement barely hidden in his smile.

You opened the small box to reveal a mug, a matching mug to his, but a dark blue with purple and red flowers, with a silver heart. It was gorgeous, less heavy than his and somehow it felt built to hold within your two hands.

"Oh Gale, it's perfect." You kissed his cheek, refusing to let go of the mug quite yet, the hug would have to wait.

"I had it specifically made by the same artist. Tara now has a similar water bowl as well. She felt left out" Gales hand slipped around your waist yet again. "as much as I love it when you steal my mug, I thought it was beyond time you had your own as well."

"Oh so you didn't want me using yours?" Your teasing turned into pecks, which led to kisses- "Your gift is waiting in the bedroom," You smirked, hand caressing his messy hair. "If that's ok, of course,"

"I was secretly hoping that was the case." His hand intertwined with yours, nearly sweeping you off your feet.

Wyll:

Wyll had been staring at you for some time before you'd woken up, the sun shining down on your resting face, the definition of peaceful. Wyll hadn't remembered pure peace, it had been years since he'd felt fully at rest, but with you, calmness was as easy as breathing. All he had to do was look at you, and he remembered serenity.

He had made sure he was the best man for you, the best man he could be. He loved you with all his heart and made sure you felt like a goddess above every waking moment of your lives together, however long that may be. He loved the small moments you shared, like when you'd tripped and nearly fallen, but straight into his arms. "Well I didn't think you'd be falling head over heels for me this fast," He'd said. And you'd laughed and smiled, and he swore he'd do everything to keep that smile on your perfect lips.

He remembered your first date, where he had tried so hard to reserve a seat at the best restaurant in baldurs Gate, but ended up in a dingy bar, getting more drunk with each cup, and instead of spending the night entangled in each other's bodies, you'd shared barely cohesive thoughts and stories from lives long past. He learned your favorite color, your old friendships, and the star that you felt most connected to, the smaller details that never seemed to have enough time for during your big adventure.

Or the time you'd styled his hair into braided buns, which he'd kept in until his hair was frizzy and far past wash day. But you'd worked so hard on it to be perfectly symmetrical that he never wanted to take out your work. He asked you to help him with his hair, after that, not just because you were good at it, which, hells, you'd made him feel confident in himself for the first time since he grew his horns, but because your light touch sent him into a nearly meditative state of bliss. The way your fingers carefully combed through his hair, spending time to detangle each knot with such care that he had barely noticed it at all. And eventually, you'd taught him how to do your hair, too. Eventually wearing matching styles (if he asked politely), and took turns in the "hair chair"

"Honey?" You whispered, groggy and barely awake, "have you been staring at me again?"

"Is it a crime?" Wyll asked, placing a light kiss on your forehead.

"Only if I was drooling"

"Oh, but you look too adorable when you drool." He chucked, holding you closer to his warm chest.

"Shut up..." You pouted, eyes fluttering open and closed, trying to force yourself awake. But sleep had you tight in it's arms, and so did Wyll.

Astarion:

Red was his favorite color, after all. The room was dripping with it, black, gold, and dark, burgundy. Candles dripping hot wax down into careful carafes, soon to be poured and decorating your skin. It was romantic, it was warm, and it was lustful. Astarions eyes never left you, dancing across your body in pure sin, he clearly knew exactly how your night would unfold, and the only hint he'd give you was the devilish smile on his lips.

"It's going to be a long night, hm?"

"Oh yes, darling" Astarion purred, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling downwards, revealing your neck to him. His fangs scraped against your bare skin, but not piercing it, no, that was for later, with much less clothing and a lot more sweat, when all you could see was his snow-white skin and the blood rushing through your veins.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[wosostories]

Not the Plan II (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Master List

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Request: Maybe a USWNT teen!reader where she gets caught after drinking and the whole team acts like disapproving big sisters but then one player (idc who) tells reader about everyone’s dumb stories when they were young and drank too!

Ok so I lied. This is going to be more than two parts. This is so I can do little blurbs for the stories instead of trying to fit multiple into one chapter. Let me know if there is a specific scenario that you want to see portrayed with a specific character for one of the blurbs.

You knew as soon as you walked into the meeting room exactly what was going to happen. You had known for weeks. Since they day you called Alex and told her you had gotten drunk at a party. 

You took a deep breath and walked into the room. You kept your head down knowing that you would not be able to look her in the eye. She had already expressed her disappointment in you over the phone. 

You were surprised that no one said anything to you as you walked in and found a seat. No one approached you the entire time that you were waiting for the meeting to start. That's when you knew. 

Everyone had heard what you had done. And everyone was disappointed in you. Immediately after the meeting you went straight to your hotel room. You curled up around one of your pillows and tried not to let it get to you. You tried not to cry, but you failed. You failed so badly that you couldn't hide the tears when you heard the door open. You tried to wipe them away but it was no use. 

"Y/N I think we need to talk." It was Alex. You had been so caught up in how she was going to react that you hadn't even checked who your roommate for the camp was. Of course it had to be Alex. 

You nod your head and feel the bed dip as she sits next to you. 

"Why'd you do it Angel?"

"I hadn't planned on it. I got invited along with the rest of the team so I thought I would just go and have fun with them. But then some of the people at the party just kept pushing and pushing for me to have drink so I did. And… and it was good so I had another and then it became too many and I…"

For the first time you look up tears streaming down your face. Alex can't help but pull the you into her arms. 

"I'm sorry Al. I'm so sorry. I won't do it again promise. Just please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad at you Angel. Was it a dumb decision, yes, but I know you. I know you are going to learn and grow from this."

So that's how you sit. For hours Alex just holds the you. You the younger girl that she had taken under her wing the moment you stepped on the field together. 

Eventually you manage to cry yourself to sleep, but Alex doesn't go anywhere. She just continues to hold you. 

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

You are only pulled from your slumber when Alex finally wakes you to go downstairs to get dinner. You follow behind and keep your head down knowing the other girls may not be as forgiving as Alex has been about the whole thing. It's like Sophia said you are young, but the new prodigy which means you aren't allowed to mess up. 

"Go ahead and sit down I'll grab you a plate." You nod and do as your told. With your head still down you barely register when someone sits down beside you. 

"Team bonding is in my room after dinner. Don't be late." It was Kelley. With that she gets up and leaves you again to wait for Alex on your own. Throughout dinner you barely say anything. You just relay what Kelley had told you and nothing more. 

You follow after Alex to Kelley's room when dinner finally finished up. You could barely taste anything and it all felt heavy in your mouth. You make it up to Kelley's room and knock on the door. 

The door swings open in seconds. "Shit kid why'd you bring Alex?'

"Uh you said it was team bonding."

"I just said that to get you to come. Why'd you have to bring the buzz kill?"

You look up at her a confused expression plastered on your face. "But the whole team is supposed to come to team bonding."

"We're not actually having team bonding Y/N. We're going to talk about you getting drunk. More specifically what you got up to while you were drunk." Kelley says with a smile while dragging you into her room. 

Now that Alex was there and knew what was going on there was no way that she was leaving, but she lets Kelley continue her antics for now and followed you inside. 

Kelley pushes you down on to one of the beds and sits on the opposite bed with Sonny. Rose, Sam, Mal, and Sophia are all spread out throughout the room. Alex sits behind you and pulls you in to her lap. 

"So how was getting drunk for the first time?"

"Uh fine I guess." You respond still a little confused on what is going on. 

"Fine? That's all you have to say? You, against all better judgment, go to a party and get drunk, and all you have to say is that it was fine?"

"I didn't plan on getting drunk. I didn't plan on drinking at all."

"But you did so tell us about it." Kelley insists. 

You look down and blush a little before mumbling something.

"What was that?"

"I don't really remember anything."

Kelley's mouth opens in suprise before a smile creeps in. "Oh so you were drunk drunk." She flops back on the bed. "You know I was about your age the first time I got so drunk that I couldn't remeber anything. But I was smart enough to do it in my own basement." 

[laneywrld]

call out my name | Lewis Hamilton

request: heyy, can we get a story with call out my name by the weeknd as the base line of the story .

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

When you first met Lewis, you had a feeling it'd end like this.

If you could go back and change that night, you would, with no hesitation. You missed the days when Lewis was a nonfactor in your life when you didn't know he existed.

You remember that night all too well. Miami was always alive when the Grand Prix came around, your friends, like the partygoers they were enjoyed taking the opportunity to take on the vibrant nightlife and enjoy the crowds the race brought in.

It was an annual tradition, you could say, to party like tomorrow didn't exist when the lights shut down and engines roared to life.

When you first moved to Miami, you hadn't understood the essence of the sport or the crowds it brought in, until you met an overly enthusiastic Daniel Ricciardo.

You had no clue who he was when he quite literally stumbled into your path; his boyish smile and golden retriever energy made it almost impossible to be mad at him as his drink soaked your dress.

"I'm so sorry!" He calls out, stumbling over himself.

"You're not from here?" You called out as you reached down to help him stand up straight. His thick accent was a dead giveaway.

"No, I'm Australian."

"Long way from home," you shouted over the music, dragging his frame into an open seat further away from the dance floor.

"I'm working." He slurs, smiling up at you.

"Mhmm, doesn't look like you're working," you trail off, "what's your name?"

"Danny. After work fun."

"Ahh," you hum, "okay, understandable. I'm going to get you some water, okay? Did you come here with friends?"

"No. Was actually planning on making some friends." He laughs, and it makes you chortle as well.

"Miami is not the place to make friends Danny." You informed. "Stay here, I'm going to grab that water."

You saunter away, keeping an eye on the lean man as you approach the bar. You order a water, paying for the overpriced bottle with your Apple wallet, and quickly return to the drunken man. You don't know why you helped him; it was just in your nature to assist anyone you could.

Danny smiles up at you with an appreciative smile as you uncap the bottle for him, "Can you hold it, or do I have to give it to you?" You inquire.

"Give it to me, please."

You both break out into childish snickers at his words. "Easy there, buddy," you warn, tilting his chin up and directing the bottle to his mouth.

You pull it away, tightening the cap and placing it in front of him on the table. You then slide into the booth beside, "I'd feel better with myself if I stay with you for a while, just to make sure you're okay."

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, "Yeah, I get it; I'm so shitfaced right now."

It is quiet between the two of you for a while, you constantly reaching over to make sure he's hydrated and him smiling at you all dopey-like.

"You from here?" He asks as he starts to regain his sober mind.

You shake your head, "No, just moved here though."

"You can be my Miami friend." Danny grins.

"I'll probably never see you again after tonight, Mr Australia." You joke, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"I come here every year around this time." He announces. "Work."

"Work," you nod. "Right."

"Yes or no?" He prods.

"Have to see if you can hang; it doesn’t look like you can." You joke.

He scoffs, leaning away and eyeing you. "Please, I am a good time, the best time."

"Sir, I've just met you, and I'm taking care of your drunk ass." You cackle.

"How about this, stick with me for the rest of the night, and if we have a blast, every time I'm in Miami, you ride with me."

"You're going to get white girl wasted every time?" You inquire with a raised brow, and he laughs hard.

"Probably."

It was safe to say that Daniel was a blast. Even if he did party like a fratboy, you enjoyed his company. He gave you the energy of a teenage coming-of-age movie, doing whatever and saying whatever with his friends. It was a connection you hadn't experienced before.

And you enjoyed it, you liked spending time with your Australian friend. Which is how you ended up meeting Sir Lewis Hamilton six years later.

Lewis didn't know why he allowed his enthusiastic coworker to convince him to spend a night in Miami with him. The only solace he found in the situation was knowing that he wasn't the only driver there. Everyone was there, in a section booked by no one other than Daniel Ric himself.

It was nice for sure, and Lewis was curious as to how Daniel, of all people, knew so much about the lively city of Miami and their restless nightlife.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Lewis, just felt out of place a little bit, without his usual crew.

"Hey Guys, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to grab my friend."

Lewis rolls his eyes taking another sip from his glass.

He doesn't know who he was expecting, a Ken doll, a high-energy frat boy like Daniel, or even a valley girl with a high-pitched voice. This was Miami, so logically his smartest anticipation would be a surgery-riddled Kim Kardashian lookalike. But not you, Lewis would never expected you to enter the section, arm wrapped around Daniel's waist as you cackle at whatever nonsense leaves his mouth.

He is instantly intrigued, his phone being powered off and stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

You were beautiful with your rich complexion and beaming grin as he walked you down the line introducing you one by one.

His eyes never leave you as he watches you interact with everyone. You cloud his vision as you get closer. His eyes trace your hair and flow down to your brows and your alluring eyes. His view travels down your nose and lingers on your spread lips. And he physically lets out a sigh as he traces over your body.

You would drive him mad. He knows it.

-

As you take the time to introduce yourself to Danny's coworkers, you aren't surprised to see, well, to make it short, people who are not of your crowd.

But to your surprise, they're all friendly and welcoming. You're not surprised to see that you have met some of them before on your trips with Daniel or when you fly out to see him.

When you reach the end of the line you see him and your confidence falters as your eyes meet his. You should've known by the way his eyes were drinking you in that he'd be a problem.

With conviction, you approach him, bearing a sly smirk on your face.

"I'm y/n." You declared, and Lewis returned the same decency.

"I'm Lewis."

Your hands meet in the middle and he has a soft grip on you, refusing to let go.

"What's a girl like you doing with Daniel."

"He's my friend." You reply.

"Just a friend?"

"Just a friend." You confirm, and the way he looked at you through his fluffy lashes was evidence enough of what was to come between the two of you.

-

Lewis wasn't all that the media portrayed him to be. He wasn't overly confident or carefree. He actually worried a lot and was stressed a lot.

You knew that he felt like he had something to prove. You met him at his peak, and even now, when he feels like he's at the worst in his career, you're still here.

"So you're going to leave?" You hum, rubbing your fingers through his parts.

"Do you think I should?"

He looks so stressed out that is it has your heart is aching for him.

He's slumped like a kid in your lap with his face set in a frown. "I think that if you're unhappy and there are ways that you feel can change that, that you should look for something new, yes."

"Did you mean what you said last time?"

You think back to the last time you were in his presence, how he had gotten drunk for the first time in years. You wince internally as you recall how you had to nurse him back to health that night, how he cried like a baby when he mentioned how alone he felt at Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton wasn't used to being an afterthought.

"Yes, I don't think they appreciate you, Lewis. I don't think they are valuing your feedback or honoring your talent. I think they are making you miserable." You confess. "There are so many other teams that would love to have you, who would fight for you to reclaim your eighth. I don't think you should keep going through this with that team. Look at how they have you."

"Is your favorite team still Ferrari?" He opens his eyes and stares up at you.

"Duh,"

When you first met Daniel, you had only heard of the sport, but as time went on, he fully immersed you into the world of Formula One. You quickly took a liking to the red team and its intricate history in the sport. When you met Lewis in 2018, he was shocked that you knew so much about them (and barely anything about him).

"Don't tell me you're considering Ferrari, Sir Hamilton." You grin and he only smirks up at you.

"We'll see."

-

After the eventful first night you had spent with Lewis nearly six years ago, Miami has become a frequent destination of his. And New York of yours. The two of you guys had a chemistry unlike any other, every night filled with breathless pants and chants of each other's names. It was electric and erotic all at the same time.

You were fully aware that you and Lewis weren't necessarily together.

You were fun for him and him for you.

It was a mutual agreement, a bond strictly built from the amazing sex that the two of you had together.

You were aware that when the time came for Lewis to settle down and spend the rest of his life together it probably wouldn't be with you. You had believed you'd come to terms with the fact. But the idea of you two being together in the future still lingered in the back of your mind.

But as you scroll through Twitter, images and small clips of Lewis walking hand in hand with a Brazilian model have your heart tightening.

It wasn't like Lewis hadn't given you that false hope of a relationship, because you'd like to think that all of those little small things were him giving in. Surrendering that stupid ideology of his that made him believe he was a permanent bachelor.

You'd been by his side and in his bed over and over again for the last six years. And you’d be doing the same again tonight.

You almost feel grimy, sitting and waiting for him in his hotel room as he takes another woman out on a date, but a part of you knows that you’d accept anything from Lewis. You had standards and you had morals, but for a man like him, you always seem to throw them all out of the window.

Your phone vibrates and pings as your social media erupts in a frenzy.

That was another thing that had your mind in shambles right now.

How open he was when it came to you.

How quick he was to show you to the public, none of his other flings had gotten that opportunity, well until whoever this chick was.

Before you, Lewis hadn't introduced his "fun times" to his friends or even bothered to take any of them to the track.

That was something reserved only for you, though, you feel sort of naive, watching the tan and leggy woman prance around hand in hand with Lewis as he leaves the paddock.

You feel like you're stuck at the crossroads as you wait for Lewis to return.

He'd flown you out here partly because he claimed he missed you so much and the other half because of how much of a hard time you'd been having with your life in general.

Lewis was also a sort of saving grace for you, when you were with him, none of your other problems mattered. So you were quick to accept his invitation.

You'd never have accepted if you knew that he'd be playing a cruel game with you like this.

When the door creaks open and he emerges with a happy grin on his face, and bags filled to the brim with what you know are gifts for you, you can only grimace. Your attempt at a smile seems good enough for him as he approaches you and places a sudden kiss on your head.

"Hey love," He smiles, "I've got some gifts for you, yeah, knew you'd need a pick me up."

And you can't help to wonder if you'd needed the pick me up from his actions or what had transpired within this last week which was the sole purpose of you going to see him.

"I'm going to wash up, really fast, yeah? And then it'll be me and you tonight."

You say nothing as he places the bags at your feet and rushes into the bathroom.

You don't move, but you allow your eyes to skim through the bags and sigh as you see just how much he spent on you.

You had gone and done it.

Gone and made some glorified elaborate fairytale out of a man, who'd only treasured your body and in return showered you with gifts.

You laugh at yourself as your hand comes up to palm at your forehead.

You were his goddamn sugar baby, not the kind of woman he'd settle down with.

You feel even more stupid at the realization, that all of the nights you'd lay with him and console him after giving him your body were not as you had made them out to be.

It wasn't romantic, it was transactional. Those nights where you offered Lewis emotional solace always came with a hefty reward the next morning.

And now, you feel tainted, knowing that all it took was a simple call of your name for you to come flying to him and land in his bed, wrapped around his body.

You found Lewis in his prime and stuck by his side through his decline. You comforted him throughout his entire descent down the totem pole. Helped him out of that broken place, and gave him reassurance and something to look forward to.

You treasured this man.

Put him on top, time and time again, when he would leave you feeling used after your time together. And if it was up to you, you'd probably continue this cycle. Giving him your all and getting nothing in return.

You really wanted him, you wanted him to want you, which is why you were fine with keeping his bed warm, at least he wanted you in some kind of way, craved you even if it wasn't the way you wished to be desired.

When he emerges from the steamy bathroom, body clad only in a pair of briefs and his body soft and glowing, you swallow back all of your thoughts allowing yourself to take him in.

He nestles beside you on the bed, taking one of your hands in his, "everything okay?"

You can only push out a meek "yeah."

And the night goes on as planned.

The dim light of dusk spills through the blinds of the grand hotel room, casting long shadows that dance across the walls. You sit against the headboard, The melancholic melody of the empty night mirrors the turmoil in your heart.

Six years ago, you met Lewis at a nightclub, your paths crossing in a haze of neon lights and pulsing music. He was charming and mysterious, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that promised adventure. Your connection was instantaneous, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming flame. You spent endless nights talking, laughing, and dreaming about a future together. Well at least on your end.

But as the years passed, you began to notice the cracks in your seemingly perfect world. Lewis' past as a bachelor was a shadow that loomed over your situationship, a constant reminder of the freeness he carried within him. He would disappear for days on end with no communication, leaving you in a state of anxious uncertainty, your mind racing with thoughts of where he might be and who he might be with. Yet, you had no right to concern yourself with these sorts of things.

As you lay in bed, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you, you find the courage to ask, "Lewis, do you love me?" His silence is deafening, and the look in his eyes speaks of a love that is nonexistent, a love that is more of a need for you than a want.

"I care about you," he finally whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "But my heart belongs to someone else. I’m sorry."

Your world shatters at that moment, the pieces of your heart shattering like broken glass. You know you have to let him go, to find a way to heal from the pain of a love that was never truly yours.

You realize that you have been holding on to a love that was destined to fade, a love that has left you feeling empty and lost.

You deserve a love that is real and true.

He’s like medicine, he makes you feel good and at the same time, he’s like poison, running through your system and finding a new part of you to sicken. Lewis is a walking contradiction, you don’t know if he’s helping you or hurting you, if he loves you, or if he hates you. Surely, he hates you, why else would he be okay with making you feel like this?

And as the city lights flicker on, you vow to never lose yourself again.

You shouldn't ask, because you know you can't bear the weight of his answer but you do.

"The woman from earlier?"

He sighs, his response weak, "Yes."

"So no more us? Right?"

"I think this is the last time." He admits and you swallow back your tears.

"Okay."

"I still want to be your friend."

"We were never friends Lewis, and we're not going to be friends after this."

Lewis swallows, sitting up to catch your gaze through the darkness.

For years, you and Lewis had maintained a delicate balance, a friends-with-benefits arrangement that allowed you both to keep things uncomplicated. You cherished the intimacy, the shared moments of laughter, the comfort of his presence. But deep down, you always knew that this arrangement had an expiration date, an inevitable end that you tried not to think about.

And now, that end has arrived. Lewis has fallen in love with someone else. You can only turn away from him.

You stand up, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed. You begin to gather your clothes, each movement mechanical, your mind numb with the reality of it all. You glance around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign and distant.

As you pull on your jacket, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears, your expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. You know that this is the moment you have to let go, to walk away from a love that was never truly yours.

You think it's kind of ironic.

How you'd been there for Lewis, and when you needed him most, he's leaving you behind.

"Do you love me?" Lewis' voice echoes from his place on the bed.

"No." You lie. "It was fun, was fun being a pit stop for you." You chuckle.

"It wasn't like that-"

"No, it's fine, we weren't anything, you fucked me and brought me gifts in return, I ate that up, that's all. I knew I was only here until you made up your mind, I'm happy you did."

You had a tendency to become a bitch when you were hurt and you knew that your words were low blows, but your pride was too hard for you to allow Lewis to see himself affect you in real time.

In reality, you'd hoped that if the unfortunate and impending doom would occur, that Lewis would have the decency to allow you to fall out of love with him first.

Then it wouldn't hurt.

You knew what the arrangement was, you knew that you and Lewis were technically nothing and you always thought that when the day came for him to finally leave you, you'd be fine. You'd feel nothing. But you do.

It feels like when that one character who doesn't care about dying has a sudden brush with death, how almost dying rids you of every sane thought you have, a person who fears nothing all of a sudden fears death, fears everything.

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but losing, could you even say losing Lewis? 

Being left by Lewis feels terrible, being left by him feels scary, like everything you knew before was not as it seems. 

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but you feel everything you thought you never would.

And in the end, you still wanted him to stay. You wanted him to choose you. Even if he didn't want you.

here you go babes @greedyjudge2 !! I'm sorry it took so long <3

part two in the future fs.