#I've wanted to talk about not fade away for ages | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lee-laurent · 1 month ago

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A Love Like No Other - Quinn Hughes

Summary: faye's whole life gets turned upside down

content: angst, pregnancy, making out, refrences to sex, dirty jokes, fluff, panic attacks, body image issues

wc: 17.8k

notes: i'll make a part 2 if you guys want! this took me ages

"I told you I'm fine, Mom," Faye sighed down the phone, continuing to highlight vocabulary words in her textbook.

"Are you sure? Your dad and I could make a trip to help out. Make sure things are-"

"Mom, you guys don't need to do that," Faye sat back in her chair, pressing her palm against the small but growing bump underneath her very oversized hoodie. It was always like this when her mom called--concern that bordered on suffocation.

"Well that Hughes boy isn't, so we just feel--"

"Quinn is busy, Mom. He's working," Faye gritted her teeth, trying to maintain her composure. It wasn't like Quinn could drop everything and come running every time she needed something. He had his own life...that was over 2,000 miles away.

"You and you're health should be his priority, Faye. It's not just about him anymore." Her mom's voice took on that disappointed edge, the one that always made Faye feel small. "You're carrying his baby and he's playing hockey like nothing has changed."

Faye squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of nausea washing over her and it wasn't entirely from the pregnancy. "I told you, he's helping in his own way. We talk. He's... trying." The words felt flimsy leaving her mouth. Like she was defending him way more than she needed to. Or maybe she was defending herself.

Her mom sighed. "I just want what's best for you, sweepea. Your senior year should be about school, not... this."

And there it was. The disappointment. The subtle reminder of everything Faye was now balancing. Projects, assignments, a baby growing inside her, and parents who could barely look at her the same way since she'd told them. It wasn't how things were supposed to go.

"I know, Mom," Faye sounded exhausted. "I've got it under control. I'm handling it." Even if some days it felt like she was hanging on by a thread.

"Okay. But remember, your dad and I are just a phone call away. If you need anything. Anything at all."

"I know." Faye swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I'll talk to you later, okay? I've got class in a bit."

"Alright, honey. Take care of yourself."

As Faye ended the call, she stared at the phone for a long moment, her thumb hovering over Quinn's name in her contact list. They hadn't talked much lately... not really. It was like there was an invisible wall between them, something neither of them knew how to address. Or maybe they just didn't want to.

She dropped the phone onto her desk and stood up, pushing away the overwhelming feelings of fear and isolation that were creeping in. She had class, a paper due, and a prenatal appointment next week. No time to fall apart.

Now how did Faye get into her current position? Well... it was quite the story.

The early summer air had a way of making everything feel lighter. All anxieties faded into the background as the music thumped through the backyard. Faye hadn't planned on going to the party, but Ethan had insisted, dragging her away for one night relaxation.

She stepped into the crowded house, the smell of cheap beer and sweat hitting her like a wall. She scanned the room for familiar faces, relieved when she spotted a few of the hockey boys gathered around the kitchen table, laughing about something she couldn't hear over the noise.

"Faye!" Luca waved her over, a large smile on his face. "We're playing pong. You in?"

She smiled back, shaking her head. "Maybe later. I'm gonna grab something to drink first." She was already regretting not staying home.

She made her way over to a cooler, but a light tap on her shoulder made her turn around. She was met with a slightly familiar face. Quinn Hughes. She knew him from being friend's with Luke's friends. They'd met once before... maybe twice. She wasn't really sure. But he looked relaxed, a grin tugging at his lips, a beer in his hand.

"Hey, funny seeing you here," he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, well, Luke and his friends can be persuasive," Faye replied with a light laugh.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. "You look like you could use something stronger than whatever's in that cooler."

Faye glanced at him, the casual way he leaned against the counter, his presence somehow more noticeable than the dozens of the other people crammed into the house. She bit her lip, weighing her options. It was just a drink at a party. "Maybe you're right," she smiled.

Quinn took her to take a shot with him. Then he went he passed her a cold beer from the fridge, a smile on his face. "They keep the good shit in the fridge."

She hestitated a second, but took it, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. "Thanks."

Quinn grabbed himself another beer, popping it open with ease. "So," he said, leaning back against the counter again, eyes on her, "what's a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of hockey degenerates?"

Faye laughed, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh, I've got connections," she said, nodding toward the group of guys still crowded around the table. "I'm friend's with your brother's old teammates. You know, the up-and-comers. Met them all first year."

"Up-and-comers, huh?" Quinn smirked. "That makes me feel old."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips turning up into a teasing smile. "You are old. What are you, like 23 now? And still hanging around college parties?"

Quinn let out a low laugh. "I've still got friends here, you know," he said, lifting his beer to his lips. "Besides, I'm not that old."

"Right, you're ancient," she teased. "At least for a college party."

"I'm not out of place. I mean, I can still outdrink everyone here," he leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Think you can keep up?"

"I think I can handle you, Hughes."

"Yeah? I like that."

She chuckled, feeling the lightness in the air between them, the chatter of the party fading into the background as they stood in their own little party. "So, does Vancouver know they've got an alcoholic captain, or is that a secret?"

Quinn put a hand on his chest in mock offence. "Alcoholic? You're really going for it tonight, huh?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Maybe I can prove you wrong."

"Maybe," Faye challenged. She wasn't sure if it was the beer or the way his gaze lingered on hers, but she felt like the whole moment could turn any second. Her usual defences of casual flirting and trying to play it cool, felt harder to maintain with Quinn standing so close.

"You're bold. I like that."

"I try."

"Guess I'll have to step up my game," Quinn said, his eyes flicking down to her lips for just a second. She would've missed it if she blinked. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Faye's pulse raced as Quinn leaned in just enough for their faces to be meer inches apart.

"So," his voice was low and teasing, "are you always this hard to impress, or is just me?"

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to do something impressive," she tilted her head.

"Alright," he said softly like it was a dare. "Let's see if I can impress you."

Before Faye could respond, Quinn's lips were on hers. The kiss started slow and tentative, but quickly deepened as the spark between them came to life. Faye's heart was racing, her hand reaching out instinctively to steady herself, fingers brushing against his chest. All she could focus on was the heat of Quinn's mouth on hers and the way his hand gently gripped her waist, pulling her closer.

When they broke apart, her breath was short, her pulse still sky-high. Quinn's forehead leaned softly against hers. "Impressed yet?"

"Not bad, Hughes. Not bad."

She glanced around the crowded kitchen, suddenly aware of the fact that they were still in the middle of a party, surrounded by people. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she looked back at Quinn, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You know," she started, her tone casual but with an unmistakable undertone of suggestion, "my place is just a couple blocks from here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Faye replied, stepping back. "If you want to... get out of here."

Quinn didn't hesitate, his eyes still locked on her. "Lead the way."

With a smile, Faye took him by the hand, pulling him gently out the back door, the party fading away as they made their way down the street.

Faye walked alongside Quinn, her hand still loosely intertwined with his as they made their way down the quiet street to her apartment. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, a shared anticipation hanging in the air.

Faye fumbled with her keys for a second before getting the door unlocked. She held it open for Quinn, watching as he took in the cozy studio.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," Faye replied, her casual confidence from the party now felt a bit more fragile in her apartment.

He smiled at her, the same easy grin he'd worn all night, and for a second, she wondered if he was feeling just as unsure as she was.

"So... what now?"

Faye smirked, stepping closer. "I think we left off somewhere around here."

She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. This was one deeper, hungrier, messier than the one they shared at the party. Neither of them was holding back anymore.

Quinn's hands found a place on her waist, tugging her flush against his body. The soft sounds of their breaths and the rustle of their clothes were the only sound filling the apartment. As the kiss intensified, Faye's hands slid into his hair as he pressed her against the wall. For a moment, she broke the kiss, breathing heavily with her forehead pressed against his.

"You good?" his voice carrying a hint of concern.

She nodded as she leaned in to kiss him again. This time softer and slower, savoring the moment. "I'm good," she whispered against his lips. Quinn smiled into the kiss, and they continued to her bed, the outside world disappearing completely.

Faye lay back against her pillows, the sheets pulled loosely over her chest, her body still warm and buzzing. She glanced at Quinn, who was lying beside her, one arm slung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

There was an unspoken understanding between them. It wasn't love. It wasn't anything serious. Just two people enjoying a night that neither of them had planned.

Quinn shifted, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at her, a lazy smile on his face. "So, you impressed yet?"

Faye couldn't help but laugh. "You're really fishing for compliments, huh?" she teased, nudging him with her foot under the blankets.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He stretched, then slowly sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.

Faye propped herself up on her elbow, watching as he reached down for his jeans. "So... what's the plan now?"

Quinn shrugged, slipping on his jeans and glancing back at her. "I should probably get going," he said, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. "Got some stuff to take care of tomorrow." He looked at her as if he was deciding to say something else or not. But he decided against it.

Faye nodded, not feeling any kind of disappointment. It was exactly what she'd expected. "Yeah, makes sense," she pulled the sheets tighter around herself. "I've got summer class work to do anyway."

There was no need for goodbyes or long explanations. It had been fun, casual, uncomplicated. Just how it was supposed to be.

Quinn finished lacing his shoes and glanced back at her. "This was... cool."

"Yeah, it was. No strings, right?"

"No strings," he echoed, moving toward the door, hesitating just for a second before opening it. "Take care of yourself, Faye."

"You too, Hughes." The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Faye lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her mind clear. It had been a fun night--nothing more, nothing less.

Faye sat at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the white stick in her hands. Two pink lines.

She blinked, her mind desperately trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. Two lines. Not one. Two. Her stomach churned as the realization slowly set in, sending her world into a spin.

It couldn't be real.

She stood up suddenly, dropping the test on the floor like it had burned her hands. Her hands shook, and she pressed them to her face, trying to breathe, to calm the panic that was rising in her chest. It wasn't possible. She'd been careful. Mostly.

The memory of the night with Quinn flashed through her mind, quick and very much uninvited. The way they had laughed, kissed, fallen into bed with that easy, casual energy, no strings attached. And no condom either.

That night had been something she was supposed to leave behind. But now she couldn't.

Her phone buzzed on her nightstand, filling the silence of her room. Faye glanced at it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw her mom's name on the screen.

"Hey, Mom."

"Faye, sweetie! Just checking in. How's everything going? Classes good?" Her mom's voice was warm and cheerful, completely oblivious to what was storming in her daughter's head.

"Yeah, uh, everything's fine," Faye replied, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "Just... busy, you know. Summer classes and all that."

"Well, I'm sure you're managing fine, like always." Her mom's voice was full of pride, but it only made Faye feel worse. If she knew... if she knew about this...

"Yeah." Her eyes darted back to the test lying on her bed. Those two pink lines taunting her, screaming at her that nothing was fine. "I'm managing."

She had to tell someone. Eventually. But not now. Not yet. Not when she had barely processed it herself. How could she explain it to her parents? To her friends? Hell, how was she going to tell Quinn?

Quinn.

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought of telling him. She barely knew him.

Her mom's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Faye? Sweetie, are you sure you're okay? You sound... off."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. "Just tired. I'll call you later, okay?"

There was a brief pause, but thankfully, her mom didn't press further. "Okay, honey. Just take care of youself. And remember if you need anything--"

"I know. Thanks, Mom. I'll talk to you later."

She dropped the phone on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She felt like she was suffocating. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and she fought to calm down, to push away the fear that was eating her whole.

Why was this happening? What was she going to do? How could she do senior year with a baby on the way? How was she going to tell her parents? And Quinn... what would she even say?

She had to think clearly. Step by step. She wasn't ready to tell anyone yet--not her parents, not her friends, not Quinn. But she had to talk to him. He deserved to know. No matter what she decided, he needed to be a part of this conversation.

But how?

They hadn't exactly exchanged numbers that night. Faye knew she could probably get his contact info from Luke's friends--Ethan or Luca--but how was she supposed to ask for his question without raising questions? She didn't want anyone knowing the reason why. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Her eyes flickered to the pregnancy test on the floor, the two lines staring back at her, a reminder of the secret she was now carrying alone.

Faye tapped her fingers against her phone screen, staring at the group chat she had with some of the hockey guys she'd gotten close to over the years. She had to figure out how to word her request without making it obvious.

Hey, can I get Quinn's number? Totally normal, right?

She sighed, locking her phone and tossing it beside her. No matter how she phrased it, they'd ask questions. They'd want to know why she needed Quinn's number when she barely knew him. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to guess what was going on before she ahad the chance to figure it out herself.

There was no avoiding it. She had to talk to Quinn.

Her fingers flew over her keyboard before she could second-guess herself.

Faye: hey, does anyone have quinn's number? need to ask him something abt the canucks for a summer class project

Her heart raced as soon as she hit send, the lie hanging in the air. It wasn't a complete stretch--she was in communications, after all--but she felt a pang of guilt lying to her friends. Hopefully, they'd just let it go. No questions. No suspicion.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed. It was Ethan.

Ethan: You need it for a project? That's kinda random, Faye. You good?

Of course he'd ask questions.

Faye: yeah, it's for a case study thing about sports teams. i figured since i knew some of you guys, i could reach out to a player i've actually met instead of just cold-calling some rando

Ethan: Makes sense, I guess. Hang on, I'll ask Lukey boy for it

At least he seemed to be buying her story now. She stared at her phone, her nerves making it feel like ages before he responded.

Ethan: Here you go. Don't tell Quinn I gave it to you for a project tho. He'll probs think it's weird lol

Followed by Quinn's number.

She copied his number and created a new contact. Staring at his name on her screen felt like she was a step closer to the edge of something terrifying and unknown. She couldn't just sit on it. She had to text him.

But what could she say? "Hey remember me? We hooked up, and oh, by the way, I'm pregnant"? It was ridiculous, but she had to start somewhere.

Faye: hey, it's faye. we met at the hockey house like a month and a half ago. can we talk?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear. But they didn't. A few minutes passed. Nothing.

Maybe he was busy. Or maybe he didn't even remember her. Either way, she'd have to figure out something soon. She couldn't just not think about this. She had to handle it.

But all she could do for the time being was wait.

Quinn had just gotten back from training with Jack and Luke at a gym near their home in Michigan. All he wanted to do was crash on the couch, maybe play a round of 'chel with his brothers or scroll through his phone before taking a long nap. The grind was constant during the offseason, but he liked to be busy.

He slumped onto the couch, grabbing his phone to check if he'd missed anything during his practice session. That's when he noticed a text from a number he didn't have saved.

Faye? He had to think about it for a second before it clicked. She was an acquaintance of Luke's, someone he'd hooked up with at that party he went to at Umich. He hadn't really thought about it much since then--it had been a one-night stand. Just one night of fun.

But the way her message was phrased didn't seem like a casual "what's up" kinda text. Something about it felt off. So, he replied quickly.

Quinn: Yeah, I remember. What's up?

Faye: can we talk? it's kinda important

Important? His heart raced. She hadn't been weird that night. They'd both agreed it was just a one and done kinda deal. Maybe she needed something. Maybe it was something about Luke, or-- No, it was probably nothing.

Quinn: Sure, what's going on?

Faye: i don't really wanna do this over text. can i call you?

He sat up the straighter on the couch, his heart beating faster. This wasn't normal. Faye didn't sound like she was asking for a favour. His fingers hovered over the screen, before he typed back his response, thinking of the best wording.

Quinn: Yeah, I can talk. Gimme a sec. I'll call you

He headed up to his room, closing the door. He assumed it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in the living room where his brothers and parents could hear. His gut told him that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. Maybe she had crabs or something. He tapped the call button, and after a few rings, Faye picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey." Her voice sounded different. Shaky, like she was trying to keep herself together.

"So... what's going on?" he asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, waiting for her to speak.

There was a long pause on the other end, and he was considering checking to see if the line had dropped.

"I... I don't really know how to say this," Faye said finally, her voice faltering. "But I'm just going to say it."

He could practically hear her breathing heavily on the other end. He waited, his nerves eating him alive.

"I'm pregnant."

For a second, he didn't move, didn't say anything. His brain was still trying to process what he'd just heard. Pregnant? Did she just say she was... no, surely he just heard wrong.

"What?" his mind was struggling to keep up. "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant, Quinn." Her voice was steadier, though she still sounded just as scared as he felt. "And it's yours."

Quinn's thoughts raced, spinning out of control. He plus thundered in his ear, drowning out anything else she was saying. How? How could this be happening? They'd only hooked up once. They'd been... no they hadn't. Shit. Once was all it took.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Quinn? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here." His voice sounded far away, even to himself.

Pregnant?

"Are you sure?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself, and he winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course, she's sure.

"I took two tests, but I, uh, I'll schedule an appointment with the campus clinic. I... I just found out today."

"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. This was... a lot. He ran his hand through his hair again, pulling at the roots. He hadn't spoken to Faye since that night. And she was pregnant? With his baby?

"Yeah."

Neither of them really knew what to say. Quinn's brain was flipping through every possible scenario. His hockey career, his family, his entire future. Everything was crashing down on him at once.

"So what now?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," Faye admitted. "I'm still processing it, honestly. I haven't told anyone yet... you're the first."

The thought of being the first person she had told, hit him harder than he could have expected. He swallowed hard, a sense of responsibility creeping in even through the shock. He might not know Faye well, but it wasn't just about him anymore.

She's pregnant with his baby. His.

"I'm keeping it... I think. Like I know this is a lot, but I'm going to keep the baby."

He knew what he had to say next, even if he didn't fully understand it yet.

"I'll be there," he said suddenly, even catching himself off guard. "I mean... I'll help however I can. I'll be there for you. For the baby."

Faye was quiet for a moment, and Quinn was worried that he'd said the wrong thing.He barely knew her. How could he promise something like that? But the thought of leaving her all alone to deal with this felt wrong. Even if they weren't together, it was his responsibility too.

"You don't have to say that. I'm not asking for anything."

"No, I mean it. I'll be there. I don't know how, but... I'll, uh, figure it out." He rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders.

"I appreciate that," she replied softly. "I know this is... a lot. I didn't mean to just spring it on you like this, but I didn't really know what else to do."

"It's okay," Quinn lied. "I'm glad you told me."

There was another long pause, the air between them feeling more and more awkward. This was just the beginning of a conversation that was going to change everything for them.

"So, I guess... we'll figure this out?" Quinn said, trying to make it sound like he had some clue of what came next.

"Yeah. We figure this out."

He stared at his phone long after the call ended, his thumb still hovering over the screen like he might call her back, as if there was more he could say.

I'm pregnant. And it's yours.

He leaned back against his headboard, eyes unfocused, staring at nothing in particular. How had his life changed so quickly? One minute he was gearing up for summer training, focusing on hockey, and the next... he was going to be a father.

Father. The word made his stomach churn. He wasn't ready for that. Hell, he could barely manage taking care of himself, let alone another tiny human. How was he supposed to do this?

Nothing made sense. They hadn't spoken since that night. Just some stupid drunken hookup. He believed her when she said it was. But there was a part of him, a part of him that felt like a dick to say it, but what if it was another guy's. Was she 100% sure it was his? What if she asked for paternity test? No, that was too far. Way too far.

His phone buzzed. But it was a group text from Jack, something about dinner in a bit. He couldn't deal with that right now. He wasn't ready to face his brothers, or anyone for that matter. What would he even say. What could he even say?

Hey, guys, by the way, I just found out I'm going to be a dad.

He stood up abruptly, pacing his bedroom. What would his parents say? What would Luke say when he found out it was Faye? What about his team? Could this mess up his career? It was only his second season of captaincy. He couldn't take a break to look after a pregnant college student.

He stopped, standing in front of his dresser, his hands gripping the edge of the wood. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and he barely recognized himself. His face was pale, his hair a mess, his eyes wide with panic.

I'm going to be a dad. The thought sent a new wave of anxiety crashing over him. He didn't know the first thing about babies or fatherhood. He hadn't planned for this. He wasn't ready for this. But it didn't matter anymore. Faye was already pregnant.

Quinn's phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Faye.

thanks for taking my call. i know it was a lot. but we will figure this out

Figure it out. Easier said than done. His first instinct was to respond, to say something reassuring. But what? The words just didn't come. He didn't want to lie to her. He wasn't even sure he knew how to be the person that she needed.

He didn't respond. Unable to deal with it then. He needed time. Time to think. Time to process. Time to figure out how he was gonna make this work.

He sat back on his bed, his legs bouncing. He thought about his parents. How disappointed they'd be, how they'd probably give him the "we're here for you, but you messed up" speech. He thought about Faye, about how scared she must be, and how, despite everything, she'd told him first. Not her friends. Not her family. Him.

That alone felt like some sort of strange responsibility. She could ever kept it to herself, could have avoided telling him until much later, but she hadn't. Now he was all in. Whether he was ready or not.

Saying that he'd be there for her and the baby was easy in the moment. But now he wasn't so sure. Could he be a dad while balancing everything else in his life?

He needed to talk to someone. Jack? Luke? No, not yet. He wasn't ready for that conversation. He couldn't handle their reactions, not while he was still freaking out. His phone buzzed again, a call this time. From Jack. He didn't answer, instead placing his phone under his pillow. He let out a few long, shaky breaths.

For now, all he could do was wrap his head around it. He had made a promise to Faye, and no matter how scared he was, he couldn't back out of it now. But what came next? He had no idea.

Faye stared at the stack of textbooks on her desk, the words blurring together as she rubbed her eyes. It had only been a couple weeks since the semester had started, but she already felt like she was drowning. Her professors had no idea what she was going through, and she wasn't exactly in a rush to tell them. The fewer people that knew, the better.

She rested her hand lightly on her stomach, feeling the slight curve under her shirt. If anything it looked like she was very, slightly bloated. It wasn't very obvious. Three months. It was still early, but she could feel the changes. The nausea, the exhaustion, how she felt like napping after walking 15 minutes to class. How was she supposed to handle this? Classes, assignments, the baby? It was all too much.

Her phone buzzed on her desk with a message from Quinn.

How're you feeling? Everything good?

Quinn had been checking in regularly since she'd told him, but their conversations were brief. Surface-level. He was busy with training camp and preseason stuff in Vancouver, and she was busy trying to keep her head above water in Michigan. They lived in two differernt worlds, and no matter how many times he texted, the distance between them felt impossible to bridge.

Faye: tired. got a ton of work. but i'm good

She typed the words quickly, not wanting to burden him with how she was actually feeling. What was the point? He had his own life, his own career to focus on. Besides, she had immediate problems... like how she was going to tell her parents. They knew something was off. They'd been calling more often, asking questions, but she kept brushing them off, making excuses. She wasn't ready to face their disappointment. Not yet.

There was a knock at her door. Her friend and neighbour, Casey, peeked her head in. "Hey, you okay? You've been quiet lately."

"Yeah, just tired. I have a ton of work to do."

"You sure? You've been looking... kinda pale lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stressed, Cas."

"Okay, well, I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

Faye exhaled slowly as her friend left, her fingers brushing her stomach. Soon, more people would start asking questions, and she wasn't ready with answers.

Quinn scrolled through his phone, staring at Faye's message. "tired. got a ton of work. but i'm good." He frowned, feeling the distance betwen them more and more everyday. He'd been checking in, but their conversations were always short. It wasn't enough. But how could it be when he was over 2,000 miles away?

Training camp had just started, and the pressure was already mounting. It was his second year as captain, and everyone had expectations--his coaches, his teammates, his friends, his family. There was barely time to breathe, let along figure out fatherhood.

He didn't know how to be there for Faye. Every time he texted, he just felt like he was checking off a box. He really did want to do more, but how? He was stuck there and there wasn't room for distractions.

But Faye wasn't a distraction. She was... something else.

His phone buzzed again. This time with a message from Petey.

Dinner in 10?

Quinn sighed, pushing himself off the couch. He didn't feel like going out, but avoiding his friends wasn't going to solve anything. He needed to keep his head straight. Focus. But even as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, his mind stayed on Faye.

The phone call from her mom came earlier than expected.

"Faye," her mom's voice was laced with concern. "Honey, are you okay? You've been so distant lately. Your dad and I are worried."

She'd been dodging this conversation for weeks, but there was no avoiding it now. Her parents knew something was wrong, and she couldn't keep hiding.

"I'm fine, Mom." Her voice cracked, and she knew her mom had picked up on it.

"You don't sound fine, sweetpea. Is something going on? School? Your health? Please talk to me."

Faye closed her eyes, there was no easy way to do this. "Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"I'm... I'm pregnant."

The silence on the other end was deafening. Her mom didn't say anything for what felt like forever, and when she finally spoke, her voice was tight. "What? Faye, what are you talking about?"

"I'm pregnant," Faye repeated. "I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

"With who, Faye? Who's the father?"

Faye hesitated, her heart racing. "Quinn."

"Your friend Luke's brother? The hockey player?" She sounded shocked.

"Yes."

Her mom's voice hardened. "Faye, how could let this happen? How could you throw your future away like this?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen. It just... did."

"But now you're stuck," her mom snapped. "This boy has completely derailed your life. Your senior year, your future--all of it, gone! Poof! What is he going to do about it, huh? Keep playing hockey like nothing happened?"

Faye bit her lip, holding back her tears. "He's trying to help. He's... he's going to be there."

"Be there?" her mom scoffed. "How? He's in Vancouver, Faye? You think he's going to stop everything and come running every time you need him? You're fooling yourself."

"I'm handling it, Mom. I'm figuring it out."

"You shouldn't have to figure this out. He should be stepping up, Faye. You deserve better than this."

Faye couldn't say anything. Her mom was angry, but more than that, she was disappointed. And that was the worst part. No matter how much Faye wanted to believe she could handle this on her own, the reality of it was that she knew she couldn't.

The call came late that night, after Quinn had had dinner with Brock and Petey. He'd just gotten home when his phone buzzed with a call from Faye.

"I told my parents."

Quinn sat down, his heart racing. "How'd they take it?"

"They're pissed. They think you've ruined my life. My mom... she think I'm throwing my future away."

Guilt settled in Quinn's stomach. "Faye, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"I know you didn't mean for this to happen. But I'm the one who has to deal with them. You're not here."

The words stung, even though he knew they weren't meant to hurt. Faye was right. He was in Vancouver, while she was stuck dealing with things on her own.

"I'm trying, Faye. I want to help. I just... don't know how."

"I know. But it's hard. And I'm scared."

Her voice cracked at the end and Quinn felt his heart break. He hated that she going through it all alone, but he didn't know what to do to help.

"We'll figure it out, okay?"

"Yeah."

But the words felt hollow. Like she'd given up on him being there. And Quinn knew that "figuring it out" was going to be a lot harder than either of them realized.

It was mid-term season and campus somehow seemed quieter. The October air had settled, bringing out heavier coats and the crunch of fall leaves. Faye at her desk, trying to focus on her computer, but all she could think about was how tight her jeans felt that morning.

She had switched to only wearing oversized sweaters and hoodies to hide her growing bump. The baby had started to feel more real over the last few days. Her morning sickness had faded for the most part, but now her back had a constant ache. She was falling behind on assignments, skipping study sessions, and avoiding her friends. She couldn't keep pretending everything was normal. Her mom had been encouraging her to go to student services and tell them about her situation. Apparently the school was supposed to help pregnant students and students with children.

Quinn: You okay? Haven't heard from you in four days

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to Quinn--it was just that every time they texted, she felt like she was letting him down by not being stronger, by not being more put together. He was busy with hockey and she was trying not to let her life fall apart all the time.

Faye: yeah, just busy with school. midterms

It was mostly the truth, she was drowning in schoolwork but most of it was that her body was changing faster than she could keep up with. She'd gone up two entire bra cup sizes in a month and new ones were not cheap. But she felt like that was a weird detail to drop on Quinn. Her mom said it wasn't, since he was the father of her child, but Faye disagreed.

She felt more isolated than ever, and she felt that that feeling would just get worse the further along she was. She needed to tell her friends still and it was just a matter of time until someone noticed something was up.

Faye had been invited to the hockey house for a movie night. If she said no they'd definitely know something was up, because she never missed a movie night with the guys. Bowls of popcorn and beers were spread out across the coffee table, and the TV blasted with some shit horror movie they'd found.

Faye had a watter bottle in her hand, keeping it close to her chest, hoping nobody would notice she wasn't drinking. But she could feel their eyes on her already. It wasn't the first time she'd skipped drinking during their hangouts, but the guys didn't want her to think they were peer pressuring her.

"Hey, Faye," Dylan called out. "What's with the water? You've been off booze for weeks."

She glanced at him, then quickly at the others, who were all staring and waiting for an explanation.

"I just... haven't felt like drinking."

But Ethan shook his head, setting down his beer. "Come on, Faye. You haven't felt like drinking since the summer. That's not the Faye we know and love."

"You've been distant. Is something going on?" Mark added.

Time to come clean. She took a deep breath, setting her water bottle down on the table. "I... I need to tell you guys something."

"What is it, Faye?"

She looked down at her hands, lifting up the bottom of her sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest. "I'm pregnant."

"Wait... what?" Dylan asked, blinking in shock. "You're pregnant."

"Yeah. I'm almost four months."

"Four months? Did you get with someone at the party? Last person I saw you talking with was..."

"It's Quinn's?"

"Yeah. It's Quinn's."

"Holy shit, Faye. That's... wow."

"I know," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't know how to tell you guys. I didn't want you to look at me differently."

"Faye, we're your friends. We're here to help you, support you. Not to judge you. You don't need to go through this alone."

"Thanks, guys. I, uh, I'm not fully alone. My parents know. And Quinn. He's... trying to be supportive."

"Does Luke know?"

"Not if Quinn didn't tell him. Luke and I don't really talk that much."

The looks of concern on their faces, the way they were all pitying her made her stomach hurt. She hated it. She didn't want people to be sorry for her. She just wanted everyone to act like things were normal, even thought things would never be the same.

"I need some air," she sighed, grabbing her jacket.

Luke was laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he saw a text from Ethan come through.

Ethan: Hey man, Faye just told the group she's pregnant. It's Quinn's apparently. Didn't know they were seeing each other ngl

Luke blinked, rereading the text a few times to make sure he read it correctly. Faye was pregnant? And Quinn was the dad? Quinn hadn't told him he was going to be a dad, let alone that he was seeing Faye.

Luke: You serious? Quinn never said anything???

Ethan: Yeah, dude. She's almost four months along. She showed us the bump. Seemed legit

Without thinking he pulled up Quinn's contact, shooting him a message.

Luke: What the hell man? Why didn't you tell me that you're seeing Faye and that she's pregnant???

Quinn’s stomach dropped as he stared at Luke’s text. His chest tightened with guilt--a guilt he had been pushing to the side for weeks. He hadn’t told Luke, hadn’t told his parents. Hell, he hadn’t even processed it himself. But the truth was out now, and the window to figure things out on his own was gone. He decided to call Luke, instead of texting about it.

"Hey."

"Hey? That's all you have to say after I just found out you're dating one of my college friends and she's pregnant?"

"We... we're not dating. We hooked up at that party the hockey guys threw. Look, I know I should've told you. I just... yeah."

"How about starting with the fucking truth?" Luke scoffed. "You haven't told you family? You can't keep that kinda shit from us."

"I know. I'm going to tell everyone. I just... had to figure shit out with Faye first."

"Next family FaceTime. You should tell everyone. Mom and Dad will help out... probably."

Luke was right. Secret was out and if he didn't tell the family soon, someone else would. He had to tell them sooner rather than later.

Quinn sat in front of his laptop, staring blankly at the screen. His family's faces were staring back at him through the familiar layout of their family FaceTime session. Jim and Ellen in one square, Jack and Luke in another. He hadn't added much to the conversation yet, just letting out a couple half-hearted laughs when someone cracked a joke.

Luke had been on his case all week. Ever since the news had been handed to Luke through his friends, Quinn had felt like his walls were closing in on him. He wondered if that's how Faye felt too.

Ellen was in the middle of asking Jack and Luke about their latest game when Quinn cleared his throat. "Hey, guys," his voice was much more strained than he'd planned. "There's something I need to tell you guys."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "What's up, Quinn?"

He had rehearsed this a hundred times in his head, but the words were stuck in his throat now that he had to say it out loud. He glanced at Luke, who just gave me a slight nod.

"I, um... I'm going to be a dad."

Ellen blinked, her smile faltering. "Wait... what?"

"I... Faye, one of Luke's friends from Umich, she's pregnant. I'm the dad."

Jack was the first to react, his eyes wide. "Holy shit, Quinn. You serious?"

"Yeah. She's almost four months."

Ellen pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh my god, Quinn. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I didn't know how. I've been trying to figure things out with Faye, but... it's been really hard."

"Quinn, this is big. Have you thought about how you're going to handle this and your career?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, I'm still working through it all. Faye's in Michigan and I'm here, so... I'm just trying to be supportive."

"Oh, sweetheart. We'll help however we can. I wish you would've come to us sooner. You don't have to go through this alone. And neither does Faye. We'd be more than happy to help her out."

Quinn nodded, appreciating his mom's comforting words. He hadn't figured out how he was going to balance everything--hockey, the pregnancy, his future with Faye and the baby--but at least his family knew now.

"You did the right thing, Quinn," Luke nodded.

Faye stood in front of the mirror, smoothering her hands over her flowly tank top. She had agreed to a girls' night out after they'd all finished their midterms, and she was really planning on making it through the night without raising any suspicions. Her friends, Casey and Sarah, were already getting ready, throwing clothes around her apartment and laughing.

Faye had told them she wasn't going to drink because alcohol made her stomach hurt--which wasn't technically a lie. But it also wasn't the whole truth. She was trying to pull her favourite pair of jeans on, only realizing that they didn't button up.

She stared down at the small gap between the button and the buttonhole, her hands trembling. That was it. None of her jeans fit anymore.

"Faye, you almost ready?" Sarah called from the bathroom, sticking her head out as she did her hair. "We're running late!"

"Yeah. Just... gimme a minute."

She stood there, her hands still on the waistband of her jeans. Casey walked over, her eyes scanning Faye's reflection in the mirror. "Did you like... get a boob job or something?" she asked, half-joking. "You look different."

Faye wanted to brush it off with a laugh and make up a lie, but when she glanced at her reflection all she wanted to do was cry. Her body was changing too much, everyone would notice soon.

"I, um..." she bit her lip, her hands falling from her jeans. "No, I didn't get a boob job."

Casey frowned, picking up on Faye's seriousness. "What's going on? You've been acting so weird recently."

Faye exhaled slowly, her eyes stinging with tears she'd been holding back for weeks. She turned to face Casey, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm pregnant."

Casey's eyes went wide, and Sarah, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, froze, her mouth falling open.

"You're... pregnant?"

"Yeah. Four months."

Sarah walked closer, the initial shock wearing off. "Faye, why didn't you tell us? You've been dealing with this all by yourself?"

"I'm just really tired of people seeing my differently. I wanted some normalcy."

"We're not going to look at you differently. You're our friend."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Faye. You're not going through this alone."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I didn't know what to say. Everything's been... changing so fast."

Sarah smiled, giving her a hug. "We're here, okay? Whatever you need."

Casey grinned, her usual humour shining through. "Besides, you look pretty damn good for a mom-to-be. I mean, your tits look fucking amazing."

Faye laughed through the tears. "Thanks, I guess. But they hurt like hell all the time."

"Now, come on. Let's go out! Even if you're not drinking, you deserve a night out."

Faye nodded, digging through her drawers to find a pair of pants that fit and went with her outfit. At least she wasn't hiding from her friends anymore.

The ticking of the clock and the rerun episode of something on HGTV filled the waiting room as Faye sat in an uncomfortable, plastic chair. Her 16-week appointment. She had been dreading this one for some reason, even though she knew it was supposed to be one of the more exciting ones.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited to hear the baby's heartbeat--she was. But there was something about all the changes she was facing that made her uneasy. She had been feeling more emotional lately, the hormones sending her on a rollercoaster ride. And her body? That was a whole other issue.

None of her pants, except for stretch-band waisted ones, fit. Her skin was breaking out like she was in high school again, and the weight gain was starting to show in more than just her belly. It was making her self-conscious in a way she'd never been before. She knew it was all part of journey, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Faye Brooks?"

The nurse's voice pulled her out of her head, and Faye stood up, wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings as she followed the woman into the exam room.

"Let's get you weighed," the nurse said cheerfully, like it was no big deal.

Faye stepped on the scale, trying to avoid looking at the number that popped up, but the nurse read it out anyway. "Looks like you've gained about eight pounds since your last appointment. That's good--right on track."

Eight pounds. Her stomach churned. She knew that gaining weight was inevitable, but hearing the actual number sucked ass. She stepped down, forcing a smile. "Right."

The nurse led her to a small room, where she lay back on the table, her shirt pulled up over her belly. The bump was more prominent, although she could probably still get away with saying she was extremely bloated. The nurse prepared the ultrasound equipment and Faye tried to calm her nerves. This was supposed to be a happy moment. She was going to hear her baby's heartbeat for the first time.

The gel toucher her skin, and she shivered. She closed her eyes, waiting for the sound, the moment that would make things even more real... if that was possible.

And then it happened.

The steady, rhythmic thump, thump, thump filled the room, and she swore her heart stopped. The baby. Her baby. It was real. She blinked back tears, unable to stop the happiness that surged through her.

"That's your baby's heartbeat. Nice and strong."

Faye smiled through the tears. For the first time in weeks, the stress of school faded away. The pimples, the weight gain, the cravings--they didn't matter. All that mattered was that her baby was healthy.

"Would you like some ultrasound photos to take home?" the nurse asked.

Faye nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

She couldn't wait to send the little black-and-white photos to Quinn. He wasn't there, and that still made her heart ache, but at least he could see the baby in the photos. She grabbed her phone as soon as the nurse handed the pictures to her.

Faye: just heard the heartbeat for the first time. sending you the photos :)

Quinn was in the middle of a film session with the team when his phone buzzed. He normally ignored texts during meetings, but when he saw it was Faye, he felt that he had to answer. He quickly checked the message, his breath catching when he saw the words: just heard the heartbeat for the first time

Attached were three ultrasound photos. His baby. He stared at them for a couple minutes, barely listening to the meeting anymore. He hadn't been there with her, but seeing the phots made everything feel a bit better.

Quinn: Wow. That's amazing, Faye! Wish I could've been there

God, he wished he could be there.

Faye left the clinic with the photos tucked in her backpack. She felt so much joy hearing her baby's heartbeat, relief that everything was going well, but also frustration with everything happening to her body.

Her cravings had gotten stranger--pickles with vanilla ice cream, enough strawberries to feed a small town, peanut butter on everything--and her emotions were all over the place. Some days, she felt like crying over nothing. Other days, she was just restless. Her sex drive had skyrocketed, which was great since she wasn't seeing anyone and Quinn was in fucking Vancouver.

It sucked. She wasn't about to start dating while pregnant, but the hormones had her feeling much more needy than she was comfortable with. She tried to push those kind of thoughts aside, but when she was laying in bed at night, she couldn't help but wish Quinn was there with her.

That night, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at herself. She tugged at her shirt, trying to flatten it over her belly, sucking in as much as she could. But even when she sucked in, she wasn't as thin as she was pre-pregnancy. Her skin was breaking out, a cluster of pimples along her hairline and on her chin. Her hips were wider, her thighs thicker, and her favourite clothes didn't fit the way they used to.

She felt... ugly.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. It was a reply from Quinn. He'd asked for a 'bump-date.'

Quinn: You look beautiful. I know this is hard, but you're amazing. Can't wait to meet our baby

Quinn always knew how to say the right thing, but it didn't make the insecurities go away. She was grateful for his support, but it wasn't enough to make her feel better about the changes happening to her body. She was supposed to feel strong and capable, but she felt was out of control.

She sighed, placing a hand on her bump. "We've got a long way to go," she whispered to the baby. "But I'm doing this for you."

Faye sat at the back of the lecture hall, her arms folded over her stomach. It was the same spot she always sat in, tucked away in the corner where fewer people could see her. But even when she tried to disappear, she couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was staring at her.

With her belly starting to show more and more, and her face breaking out into what felt like a million pimples, she felt like a different person. She no longer looked like herself. Every time she caught her reflection in a window or glanced down at her swollen feet, she wondered where the old Faye had gone. The Faye that felt comfortable wearing the shortest mini skirt and tank top to a party.

She tugged at the hem of her Wolverines hoodie, trying to cover her stomach more. People were definitely noticing. She could feel their eyes on her when she walked through campus, feel their whispers following her as she sat down in class or waited in line at the coffee shop.

It wasn't just that she was pregnant. It was that she was pregnant, in college, and very much not in a relationship. Every time she passed a group of students, she imagined what they were thinking. Is she a single mom? Did the dad ditch her? What's her story? She hated it.

By the time class ended, Faye felt like she was suffocating. She gathered her things quickly, keeping her head down as she hurried out of the lecture hall. She was halfway home when her phone buzzed.

Sarah: girls night at my place tonight! you in?

Normally, she loved hanging out with her girlfriends, but lately, she'd been so tired, so emotional, that the idea of socializing just felt exhausting. But she also didn't want to push her friends away. They were one of the few things keeping her grounded.

Faye: yeah, i'll come by

At least she had friends. They didn't look at her with pity or judgement--at least, not in the way that she imagined other people did. They just supported her. And that's all she needed.

Sarah's apartment was warm and inviting, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling the air as Faye stepped inside. She shrugged off her coat, glancing at her friends already lounging on the couch with wine glasses in hand.

"Hey, girl!" Casey waved her over. "We saved you a seat!"

Faye smiled, making her way to the couch. She was grateful for the normalcy her friends provided. She sat down, tucking her legs under herself, and reached for the glass of water Sarah had already set out for her. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her.

"So," Sarah smiled. "Tell us what's new. How're you feeling?"

She wasn't sure how honest she wanted to be? How was she feeling? She felt like shit. Her body wasn't her own anymore between all her side effects, but she didn't want to bring the mood down.

"I'm... okay. Tired. Hungry all the time. You know, the usual."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "Girl, you've been looking tired. No offence, but your skin's been freaking out lately. Did you change your skincare routine or something?"

Faye bit her lip, trying to push her self-conscious thoughts aside. "Yeah, it's the hormones. I can't seem to keep up."

"That sucks, but you still look amazing."

She was trying to stay positive, but the truth was, she'd never felt more disconnected from herself. This wasn't her. The Faye she knew wasn't tired, overly emotional, or super uncomfortable in her own body. And the worst part? She had no idea when--or if--she's ever feel like herself again.

Quinn stared at the ultrasound photos on his phone again, a grin tugging at his lips. He had saved the images Faye had sent him and found himself looking at them whenever he had a quiet moment.

The baby. His baby. It still felt surreal at times, but whenever he looked at the black-and-white photos, a wave of excitement washed over him. This was real. The tiny little being in those pictures was growing inside Faye, and even thousands of miles away, he felt connected to it.

He scrolled through the photos one more time before pulling up the family group chat. He hesitated for a second, then decided it was time. His family had been asking about the baby since he told them, and now he actually had something to share.

Quinn: Hey guys, just got some ultrasound pics from Faye. Meet baby Hughes :)

He attached the photos and leaned back on the couch, waiting for the answers to come through. And it didn't take long.

Jack: Holy shit! That's so cool!

Mom: Oh, Quinn, that's amazing! Look at that little face! I can't wait to meet them

Dad: Proud of you, Quinn. Keep us updated

Warmth spread through Quinn's chest as he read their responses. Even though he wasn't physically with Faye, sharing those moments with his parents made him feel like he was more of a part of the journey. It made him feel less alone.

He sent Faye a quick text.

Quinn: Shared the ultrasounds pics with the fam. They're all super excited. How're you feeling?

He knew she was struggling, but every time he asked, she shrugged him off. He was trying his best. He was falling more in love with the idea of being a dad every day. He still had to figure out how to be there for Faye though.

Faye: i'm... okay. just feeling kind of off ngl. don't really feel like myself anymore

Quinn: I get it. But you're doing amazing, Faye. You're strong, even if you don't feel like it. Wish I could be there

She appreciated the support, but right now, no amount of reassurance was going to make her feel like herself again.

It was late, and Faye was curled up on the couch, flipping absentmindedly though a textbook she wasn't really planning on reading. She felt like she hadn't had a moment to relax recently. She sighed, shifting uncomfortably. He back had been aching all day, and felt an unfamiliar tightness in her lower belly.

She placed a hand on her stomach, furrowing her brow. The sensation wasn't painful exactly, but it felt... strange. A dull pressure that came in waves. She tried to brush it off, assuming it was just another pregnancy symptom she wasn't familiar with. But the tightness came again, stronger this time, making her sit up straight.

Something didn't feel right.

The pressure intensified again, her belly growing hard under her hand. Panic surged through her. This wasn't normal. It couldn't be normal. Was she going into labour? The baby wasn't due for months--she was only 20 weeks along.

Another wave of tightness hit her, and this time it was even more painful. She grabbed her phone, hands trembling as she dialed Quinn's number.

Quinn was getting ready for bed when his phone rang. When he glanced down and saw Faye's name, his heart skipped a beat. It was late where she was, and they hadn't planned on talking that night.

"Faye? What's going on?"

"I- I don't know," her voice was shaky and strained. "Something's wrong. I keep feeling this pressure in my stomach... I don't know what's happening, Quinn. What if the baby's coming too early?"

"What? Are you sure? How bad is it?"

"I don't know!" she cried, her panic rising. "I've never been pregnant before. What if something's wrong?"

Quinn's mind immediately went into overdrive. He wanted to be calm for her, but the fear that something was wrong with the baby made his pulse pound in his head. He needed to be there. He needed to help.

"Okay, okay, listen. You need to get to the hosptial. I'll book the next flight out."

"But Quinn, it's so far away--"

"I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. Go to the hospital and let them check you out. Everything's going to be okay." He hoped his words sounded more confident than he felt.

"Okay. I'll call you when I get there."

"Text me as soon as you're on your way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up and immediately pulled up flight options on his phone. He mind was racing, fear settling deep in his gut. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if Faye was going into premature labour?

He fired off a text to his coach, explaining the situation. Within minutes he had a response telling him to go to Michigan. That they'd be fine if he missed two days of practice for his baby.

The hospital smelled sterile, and Faye felt her nerves buzzing as she sat on the exam table. Her hands were clenched in her lap and every slight tightening of her belly made her wince.

She had texted Quinn when she had arrived and he was already on his way to the airport. Finally, the door opened, and the doctor entered the room, offering her a calm smile.

"Faye, hi. I hear you've been experiencing some discomfort," the doctor said as she sat down beside her, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"Yeah. I've been having these weird contractions or something. I don't know. I'm only 20 weeks..."

"Let's take a look."

As the doctor examined her, her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her nerves eating her alive. But after a few moments, the doctor straightened up, her smile reassuring.

"It looks like you're experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. They're often called 'practice contractions.' They're not harmful, and it doesn't mean you're going into labour."

"So... I'm okay? The baby's okay?"

"Yes! Everything looks normal. It's common to experience these at some point in your pregnancy. It can be uncomfortable, but it's nothing to worry about."

Faye let out a shaky laugh. "Oh my god... I thought I was going into labour."

The doctor chuckled. "No, not at all. Just keep an eye on things, but everything's perfectly fine."

As soon as the doctor left, Faye texted Quinn.

Faye: false alarm. it's just braxton hicks. baby's okay. everything's okay

Quinn's flight landed early the next morning, and as soon as he stepped off, he checked to see if Faye had texted. Relief flooded his chest, but even knowing things were okay, he still needed to see her. When she opened the door, she looked exhausted. Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. Quinn didn't care. He pulled her into a hug, feeling the tension leave his body the second he held her.

"I was so scared," he admitted.

"Me too," Faye whispered, clinging to him. "I thought something was really wrong."

Quinn pulled back slightly, looking down at her. "I'm glad everything's okay. I'm staying for a couple days, just to make sure you're good."

Faye hesitated, then nodded, too tired to argue. "Okay. That... that would be nice."

Quinn sat on Faye's couch, a cup of coffee in his hand, while Faye lay stretched out beside him, her head resting on a pillow. She still looked exhausted, her body worn out from stress and the Braxton Hicks scare.

"How are you feeling now?"

Faye shrugged, resting a hand on her belly. "Better, I guess. I still feel... off. But the doctor said it was normal. It just freaked me out."

Quinn nodded, then hesitated before reaching out. "Can I...?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Quinn placed his hand gently on her stomach. It was the first time he'd touched her bump, and the feeling of life growing beneath his hand hit him like a ton of bricks. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion.

"That's... our baby."

Faye smiled weakly, "Yeah, our baby."

Quinn's phone buzzed with a text from his mom.

Mom: Heard what happened. We're so relieved everything's okay. If Faye needs anything, let her know I'm here, okay? She's family now.

Quinn smiled, showing the message to Faye. "Mom wants to help you out. She's pretty excited to be a grandma."

"I appreciate that. Your mom's always been so nice."

"She means it," Quinn said. "And so do I. You're not doing this alone."

"I know."

It had been two days since the scare, and while Faye had physically recovered, the emotional exhaustion hadn't lifted. Having Quinn around helped, though. It was strange at first, seeing him so much more than usual, but also comfortable. He wasn't hovering, like a helicopter parent, but he was there, offering a helping hand

She wasn't sleeping well, though. Not anymore.

At 20 weeks, she'd finally hit the point where it was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep. It didn't help that her back constantly ached and her hips throbbed with every moment. Lying flat on her back made the pain worse, but when she shifted onto her side, it was like her belly was pulling her down, straining her already sore muscles.

Late at night, Faye lay awake in bed, shifting restlessly. Her body screamed for relief, but no matter how she positioned herself, the ache in her body wouldn't go away. She tried hugging a pillow like she'd seen online, but it didn't help. She was surprised she hadn't woken up Quinn with her constant tossing and turning, the rustling of her bedding.

Quinn had insisted on sleeping on the couch to give her space, but when the pain became unbearable, Faye found herself padding softly to the couch. She stood there a moment, watching him sleep, unsure whether she should wake him. But the dull ache made her decision for her.

"Quinn?" she whispered, nudging his shoulder. "I... I can't sleep."

Quinn blinked awake, his face full of concern as he sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I just... I can't get comfortable," she admitted, her hand resting protectively on her belly. "My back is killing me."

"How can I help?" his voice was deep with sleep.

"Come lay in bed with me?"

"Okay," he pushed himself up, following her over to the bed. Faye lay down beside him, curling onto her side, and after a second Quinn's arm came over her stomach. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh of relief as his hand helped her prop her stomach in a more comfortable position. His touch grounded her in a way that felt... right. She shifted slightly, nestling deeper into the curve of his body, and for the first time that night, she felt like she could sleep.

"That better?" he murmured.

Faye nodded slightly. "Yeah. Thank you."

As she drifted to sleep, she realized how much she needed this--needed him. She wasn't used to relying on people, but with Quinn, it didn't make her feel weak. It just felt... safe.

In the morning, Quinn was already awake when she opened her eyes. His arm was casually draped over her, and Faye's cheeks flushed as she remembered how she practically crawled onto him in the middle of the night.

"Morning. How're you feeling?"

"Better," she replied. Her back still ached, but he pain wasn't as intense as it had been when she was trying to sleep. "I think you might've saved me last night."

"Glad to be of service."

She sat up slowly, stretching her sore muscles as she glanced to the textbooks scattered around the place. Finals were creeping up on her, and while she'd tried to keep up with classes, the pregnancy was making it hard. Her professors and the school were understanding, but she still felt the pressure to stay on top of things.

"Do you need help studying? I've got time," he suggested, following her gaze.

"You? Studying?"

"Hey," he shot back playfully. "I wasn't a complete slacker in school, you know."

"I wouldn't mind the company."

They spent the next few hours at her small dining table, Quinn helping her go over some notes for upcoming exams. It felt strangely normal, having Quinn sitting beside her, scribbling down notes on things she missed, cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Faye let herself imagine what it would be like if things were different. If Quinn lived closer, if they were a couple, if they were navigating this together in a real, committed way. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. It was too much to think about.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah. I think about it a lot."

"And?"

"And..." Quinn's gaze dropped to her stomach before meeting her eyes again. "I think about how I want to be there. For you. For the baby. I know it's complicated, but... I'm in this with you, Faye."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

That night, Faye lay in bed, Quinn next to her already this time. She needed rest, but her body was only sort of cooperating. Quinn groaned slightly, having trouble falling asleep with all her tossing and turning.

"You okay?"

"No. I can't fall asleep."

He pulled her closer to his chest, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Better?"

"A bit."

She turned over, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes.

"Better?"

"Thanks," she whispered, her breath warmth against his skin.

Faye could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her mind spinning from the physical relief but also the chemistry she was sure was between them.

And then, in the heat of the moment, their lips met. Faye's heart raced as his tongue swiped across her bottom lip, her body responding to the need she'd been ignoring for weeks. She pulled back, her breathing uneven.

"It's the hormones."

But Quinn just smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I know. But if you need me... I'm here."

She blushed but still laughed at his flirting. Then tension between them was electric, and she leaned up for another kiss. Quinn rested his hand on her belly, pulling away when he felt something.

"It moved."

"What?" she whispered, not liking that he'd ended their make out session.

"The baby, I felt it. It was like a little flutter. Did you feel it?"

"I wasn't really paying atten--"

Then she felt it, the strangest feeling yet. Just like Quinn had said, like a little flutter.

"Oh my god. It's moving!" she laughed, cupping Quinn's face. "Our baby is moving!"

Quinn leaned in, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. Resting his forehead on hers as they pulled away.

"That's... that's so fucking cool, Faye! That's our baby!"

"I know, Quinn," she giggled, but as excited as she was, exhaustion was starting to take over.

"Do you want me to move my hand?" Quinn asked.

"No. It's fine there," she mumbled, falling asleep while Quinn sat there and waited for the baby to move again. He was even more in love with the baby and it wasn't even there yet.

It was Quinn's last day in Michigan, and Faye didn't like the heaviness that settled in her chest at the idea. She knew he had to go back to Vancouver. It was his job after all, but after everything that had happened, having him around felt comforting. He made everything seem a little less overwhelming.

To make the most of their last day, they decided to keep things light, indulging in Faye's latest pregnancy cravings. Currently, they were at her small dining table, staring at an odd combination of food.

"Are you seriously going to eat that?" Quinn asked, eyeing Faye as she spread peanut butter over a pickle.

"Trust me, it's so good," she insisted, though she had to admit it seemed strange. "It's the pregnancy."

"Well, I'm in. I promised I'd try all your cravings today, so let's see what this tastes like."

Faye handed him half the pickle, watching with amusement as he hesitated before taking a bite. His face twisted in confusion, then something more like... surprise.

"Okay... that's not as bad as I thought."

They spent the next hour going through her line up of food combinations--pickles in vanilla ice cream, hot sauce on a piece of white toast, avocado and chocolate, babybel cheese with whipped cream, lots and lots of orange soda. Each bite brought laughter and more jokes from Quinn, and Faye feeling better about her stupidity.

After, they sprawled out on the couch, stuffed from their culinary adventure. Quinn pulled out his phone, opening an app he'd downloaded to track the baby's development. "So, I was reading about what's going on with the baby at 20 weeks," he said, scrolling through the information.

"What does it say?" she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Apparently the baby's about the size of a banana now. That's... actually kinda big."

"A banana?" She placed her hand on her stomach. "Wow."

Quinn grinned, scrolling further down on the app. "It can hear things now too. Like they can hear your voice when you talk or when music is playing."

Faye smiled, imagining the little banana-sized baby growing inside her. She felt more connected with the baby every time she learned a new fact, but also much more anxious about the future.

As if reading her mind, Quinn set down his phone and said, "I ordered you something, by the way. It should be here tomorrow."

"You ordered something for me?"

"Yeah, I've been reading about pregnancy pillows. I figured it might help with the sleeping problems you've been having."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know," he smiled softly. "But I want to help however I can. Even when I'm not here. I hate that you've been struggling with getting to sleep."

Quinn had been supportive than she ever imagined, and while they hadn't had a serious conversation about the future, moments together like that made her feel like things would be okay.

They decided to end the day with a movie, cuddled up on the sofa. Faye was wrapped in a blanket, her head resting on Quinn's chest. It was peaceful, but just as she was getting comfortable, her phone rang.

"It's my mom," she murmured, sitting up.

"You want to answer it?"

Faye nodded, then slid off the couch and headed to the bathroom for some privacy. "Hey, Mom."

"Faye, sweetpea! How're you feeling? You've been awfully quiet lately."

"I'm okay. Just... busy with school and stuff."

"Well, your dad and I were talking, and we think you should move back home once the baby's born," her mom said. "It'll be better for you to have support--proper support."

She knew what her mom was getting at. "Mom, I'm fine. I can manage on my own."

"Faye, be realistic," she snapped. "You're going to be a single mother. It's hard enough raising a baby when you have help, but you'll be alone most of the time. And if you think Quinn's going to be around for the sleepless night and dirty diapers, then you're being delusional."

"That's not fair. Quinn wants to help."

"He might think he does now, but once the baby is here, he's going to be focused on his career, on hockey. You'll be left doing everything on your own. You should come home, where we can help you."

"I'm not moving back home, Mom! I've got everything under control."

"You're not thinking clearly, Faye! You're being stubborn, and it's going to cost you. You need to think about what's best for the baby."

"I am thinking about the baby," Faye fought back her tears.

"Then why won't you listen to us?"

"Because I don't want to move back home! I can handle this on my own! And Quinn's not going to just disappear, okay? He's been helping me, and he's going to be there."

Her mom sighed heavily. "I hope you're right. I don't want you getting your hopes up, Faye."

Faye ended the call abruptly, feeling her entire body tremble as she leaned against the counter, sobbing quietly.

Quinn had heard bits and pieces of the conversation from the couch, but when he saw Faye's face, he immediately stood up and rushed over to her.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "What happened?"

Faye sobbed into his chest, her words coming out in gasps. "My mom... She thinks I should move back home. She thinks... She thinks you're not going... to be around."

"What? Why would she think that?"

"She... she thinks you're just going to focus on hockey, and I'll be stuck all alone. She doesn't believe you'll actually be here."

Quinn felt a surge of anger rise in his chest, not at Faye's mom, but at anyone who would think he wouldn't be involved. He cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "Faye, listen to me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm in this with you. We're going to figure this out together."

Faye sniffed, "What if... What if my mom's right? What if this gets too hard, and you--"

"It won't. Yeah, it's going to be hard, but I'm not going to walk away. I care about you, and I care about our baby. I'm going to be here for you both of you. No matter what. Okay?"

"I'm scared."

"I know. But we'll figure it out. We're a team, Faye."

Maybe, just maybe, they'd figure this out together.

The snow was falling softly outside the Hughes' house, making everything look like a scene out of a Christmas movie. Faye stood by the window, watching the flakes settle on the ground, her hands on her ever growing stomach. It was strange being there surrounded by Quinn's family. Strange but... comforting.

She was 24 weeks along, her belly undeniably visible, and the baby had started kicking more regularly, constantly reminding her it was there. Her back ached 24/7 now and she slept most of the day, but she was still trying to enjoy her holiday break.

"Everything okay?" Quinn's voice came from behind her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Yeah. It's just... nice here. Your family is so kind. I still can't believe they invited me to stay for a few days."

Quinn chuckled, "Of course they did. You're part of the family now, Faye. Besides, my mom's been looking forward to spoiling you and the baby for weeks."

Ellen Hughes had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome, treating like she was already part of the family. And was overwhelmed as she felt, the whole thing made her feel less alone.

Later that evening, Faye sat on Hughes' couch, enjoying the warmth of the fire place, when Ellen came in and placed a large, beautifully wrapped, present in front of her.

"These are just a few things we thought might help," Ellen said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I know you've probably already started planning, but every little bit helps, right?"

Faye blinked, holding back her tears as she unwrapped the box. Inside was a collection of things she hadn't even thought about yet. There was a breast pump, a coupld sets of baby clothes, a few board books, and even a set of parenting books. One for her and one for Quinn.

"Oh my god, Ellen," her voice wavered as she ran her fingers over the small onesie. "This is so thoughtful. Thank you."

"It was mostly my mom," Quin grinned. "But I helped."

Ellen waved a hand dismissively. "Quinn picked out a few things. The parenting books were his idea."

The fact that he had been thinking about this--about them, about the baby--made her feel even more connected to him. Quinn was clearly committed to figuring things out.

"Thank you, Quinn. I mean it," she whispered.

Quinn reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're in this together, Faye. You and me."

Faye was exhausted from socializing, so she and Quinn retreated to his childhood bedroom. It felt cozy and nostalgic, with posters of old hockey heroes still hanging on the walls and a few trophies lined his dresser.

"So this is where the great Quinn Hughes spent his teenage years, huh?" she teased.

"Yeah, it's nothing fancy. But it's home."

Faye lay on her back, immediately feeling the stretch of her belly above her. "It's nice. Being here with you. I wasn't sure how'd I feel, but... I like it."

Quinn lay down beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm glad you're here. It feels right."

They spent an hour talking about the baby, about names they hadn't settled on yet, and how crazy it was that in just a few more months, they would be parents. As the conversation quieted down, Quinn placed his hand gently on her stomach, his face lighting up when he felt a kick under it.

"Hey, there's my little buddy," he whispered, voice full of wonder. "You're getting strong in there."

Faye smiled, her heart swelling at the way Quinn talked to the baby. She placed her hands over his, enjoying the warmth. "The baby likes you."

Quinn leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. "I like the baby too."

It was late by the time they finally turned off the lights, but Faye found herself still wide awake. She shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position without her pregnancy pillow. Sighing softly, she turned to face Quinn, who was lying beside her, his eyes closed but not quite asleep. "I can't get comfortable."

"How can I help?"

"Pillows and cuddles?"

"I can do that," he handed her an extra pillow from the floor, allowing her to stick it under her stomach. "Better?"

"A lot," she sighed.

Quinn gripped her jaw, turning her face towards him. He pressed his lips to her, a strong, quiet kiss. They'd shared kisses before, but this one felt more intimate, more real.

"I'm glad I'm here."

"Me too."

It was nearing the end of January, and Michigan was wrapped in a thick blanket of snow. Faye sat cross-legged on the couch under a heavy knit blanket. The baby's kicks were getting stronger, whenever she placed her hand on her stomach she could feel it responding to her touch.

She was 28 weeks, officially in her third trimester. The reality of everything was hitting hard. It wasn't just the growing bump, the constant back pain, or the shortness of breath. Now, the emotional weight of it all was settling in, and the need to start planning for the birth was unavoidable.

Faye glanced down at the notebook in her lap, where she'd started to write out ideas for her birth plan. It felt weird, putting pen to paper and trying to map out how it would all go. Of course, she couldn't fully predict how things would play out, but the idea of having a plan eased her worries,

Her phone beside her buzzed, and she smiled when she noticed it was Quinn texting her. They talked almost every day now, and she felt like a school girl with a crush every time he texted or called.

Quinn: You free for a FaceTime? Been thinking about some stuff we should figure out

Faye: yeah, call me!

Seconds later, her phone rang and Quinn's face filled her screen. His hair was damp, probably from a post-practice shower, and he was smiling brightly.

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Tired. The baby's getting bigger and I swear I feel every, single kick these days."

Quinn laughed. "Strong kid. Probably gonna play hockey."

"We'll see about that," she rolled her eyes, looking back at her notebook.

"So, I was thinking... We should probably start to make some real decisions here. Like about the birth and everything that comes after."

Faye nodded, "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I kinda started writing out my birth plan, but it's a rough, rough draft."

"Yeah? What kinda things are you drafting?"

"Well, I want to have the baby here in Michigan. I've already talked to my doctor about it, and she's amazing. I don't want to risk flying anywhere when I'm that close to my due date."

"Good call. I'll come as soon as I can. Make sure I'm there for baby's due date."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I know you'll have to travel for games, but I want you here as much as possible."

"I will be. I'll talk to the team, make sure I'm there whenever you need."

"Okay, so after the baby's born..." Faye trailed off, trying to put her thoughts into words. "I don't think I should fly to Vancouver right away. I'll need time to recover and moving across the country with a newborn... it just seems like too much."

Quinn nodded, "Makes sense. I don't want you to have to deal with that stress right after giving birth."

"So, I'm thinking I'll stay here in Michigan for the first few months. Maybe two or three? My parents will stop by and help, and you can come visit when you can."

Quinn's face dropped at the mention of her staying in Michigan. "I hate that we won't be in the same place right after the baby's born. But... I get it. It's the best plan for now."

"I know," she mumbled, her heartbreaking. She also hated the idea of being apart from Quinn for those couple months, but she knew it was necessary. "I just want to give the baby a stable place before we have to move all our shit to Vancouver."

"Absolutely. And I'll come to Michigan as much as I can. And then, when you're ready, you'll move to Vancouver. You... you can move in here with me or... we can get you your own place."

It wasn't something they'd discussed in detail yet, but Faye's heart fluttered at the thought of sharing a place with Quinn. The thought of building a life together with their baby, filled her with a lot of hope for the future.

"Okay, sounds like a plan."

"I've been looking into baby gear. Cribs, strollers, cars seats, all the works. We'll need to figure out what we need in Michigan and what we need in Vancouver."

"Yeah, I've been looking into childcare options for when we move to Vancouver. I still want to finish my degree online. It'll be a lot."

"It will be, but we're in this together. You're not doing it alone, Faye."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"Also, I think we should make a list of names. It'll help."

She giggled, "You've really been thinking about this, huh?"

"Yeah. This baby's gonna need the best name ever. No pressure."

"Alright, let's do it. Let's make a list."

Faye groaned, rolling over to look at the clock for the thousandth time that night. 2:47 AM. She was exhausted, but her body refused to cooperate. The baby liked to be active as soon as she was ready to rest. Which made it impossible to get comfortable and sleep.

Not that comfortable really existed anymore. She felt huge, like she had an oversized balloon under her shirt at all times. The baby had officially taken over. Every breath she took was shallow, and her bladder felt like it was the size of a peanut. She had to pee all the time. Every time she'd get settled, she'd have to get right back and waddle back to the bathroom.

With a groan, she pulled herself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom yet again. She'd lost count of how many times she'd made that trip in the last hour alone. The baby pressed on every single one of her organs.

"I swear, if you keep pushing on my bladder, you're grounded for life."

The baby gave a strong kick in response, making her wince and laugh at the same time. It was like they already had the same sense of humour.

After what felt like an eternity of pissing, Faye made it back to bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She drifted in and out of fitful sleep, and then the dreams started.

Faye's dreams had always been weird, but lately, her pregnancy was putting them on a whole new level. Vivid and bizzare, often leaving her very confused when she woke up. This dream, though, took the fucking cake.

In her dream, she was in the hospital, ready to give birth. Everything seemed fine at first--the doctors were calm, Quinn was there, holding her hand. But when the baby finally arrived, Faye's eyes widened in horror.

It had tentacles.

It wasn't a normal, chubby-cheeked newborn. No, this baby was some kind of squid creature, with wriggling, slimy tentacles where it should have had arms and legs. And instead of crying, it made this weird gurgling sound like it was trying to communicate to aliens.

Faye had stared at it in utter shock, unable to process what she was seeing. Meanwhile, Quinn was completely unfazed. He smiled down at the baby-squid hybrid like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Isn't it cute?" Quinn had said, his voice filled with pride. "Look at all those tentacles."

Faye woke up, her heart racing. She blinked in the darkness, trying to shake off the unease from the dream. 3:30 AM. No way she was getting back to sleep after that. She grabbed her phone, texting Quinn.

Faye: u awake?

Quinn: Yeah, what's up?

Faye: had the weirdest fucking dream. call me

"Hey? You okay? What happened?"

Faye bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing as she thought about the dream. "I had a dream that the baby came out... but it had tentacles instead of arms and legs."

Quinn was silent for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah! It was like the baby was a squid or something. And you were completely fine with it. You were holding it like 'Look how cute it is!'"

"Well, I mean, if our baby has tentacles, we'll figure it out, right? It'll be the cutest squid baby, ever."

"I'm blaming pregnancy hormones for that one. These dreams have been getting weirddd."

"I've read about that. Strange dreams are super common in the third trimester. So... get ready for more squid babies."

"Great. Just what I needed. As if peeing every five minutes and feeling like a human punching bag wasn't enough."

"How are you feel otherwise?" Quinn asked. "I know this trimester has been harder."

"Honestly? I didn't think it could get worse, and then... it did. I can't breathe half the time because the baby is squishing my lungs, and I'm always tired but I can't sleep. The baby decides to have a fucking dance party every time I lie down."

"Sorry, Faye. Wish I could help."

"I know. It's not your fault, Quinn. Every week I feel like something new pops up to remind me how massive I am."

"Baby's gonna be here soon. And the sleepless nights will be for a different reason," he offered.

"Great," Faye said sarcastically. "Something to look forward to."

31-weeks. 9 more weeks until their baby would be there. The days were flying by, and with each passing week, she got more and more anxious. Quinn wanted to be at the appointment with her, but he was busy doing hockey stuff. They were doing their best to navigate long-distance pregnancy, something she never thought she'd have to do.

Her OB entered the room with a smile. "How're you feelin' today, Faye?"

"I'm always tired, but good. Baby's active, which is probably a good sign."

"That's great to hear. We're mainly looking for the baby's position, measuring your uterus, and making sure everything is progressing as it should."

Faye nodded, trying to relax as the doctor took her measurements. She watched the doctor gently press along her stomach, feeling for the baby's position. The cold jelly made her shiver slightly, but she was more focused on the doctor's facial expressions.

"Looks like your little one is head down, which is exactly what we want to see. No signs of breech, which is good news."

"That's a relief."

"Things are looking good, Faye! And just to double-check you still want to keep the gender a surprise?"

"Yeah, Quinn and I talked about it, we both want to wait until the birth to find out."

"That takes some serious patience. But it'll be a great surprise when the time comes."

After the checkup, Faye called Quinn. He always wanted to be filled in on what was going on after appointments.

"Hey, Faye! How'd it go?"

"It went well! Baby's head down, which means no breech. Everything is looking good."

"That's awesome. I was worried about that."

"I know you were. But they're in the right position. Doctor said everything is on track, and we're still in good shape for a natural delivery."

"And the gender? They didn't slip up?"

Faye shook her head with a laugh. "Nope, still a mystery. Doctor asked, but I said we're stickin' with our plan."

"As much as I want to know, I think the wait will be worth it."

"Same. But it's getting harder to wait," she admitted, climbing into her car. "I keep imaging what they'll look like. If they'll have your eyes or my nose."

"Well, if they come out with tentacles, we're prepared."

"Let's hope not," she groaned.

"You're doing amazing, Faye. We're almost there."

"Almost there."

The day had finally come and Quinn was back in Michigan, standing in Faye's apartment, helping her settle down for the final countdown. 1 week until her due date. Faye had been anticipating this moment for months, but now that it was there, all she could think about were the things they needed to get done before the baby arrived.

It didn't matter that she'd already gone through every room, tidied the apartment, and organized all the baby gear. The urge to keep preparing, making sure everything was perfect, was strong.

"Hey, how's everything going?" Quinn asked, dropping his bags on the ground.

Faye barely heard him. "We need to get the crib set up today," she blurted out. "And I need to reorganize the dresser-- I don't think I folded all the clothes properly. Oh, and we need to clear space in the freezer for breast milk."

Quinn looked at her with an amused smirk. "You know the baby isn't coming today, right? We've got time."

"Time?" Faye repeated, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "We have less than a week, Quinn. What if the baby comes early and something isn't ready?"

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Okay, okay. Let's do whatever you need. Where do we start?"

Faye was in nesting mode. She had Quinn building the crib, while she sorted through the baby clothes for the tenth time. Everything needed to be perfect.

"Do you think I should organize them by size or typer?" she asked from the floor, surrounded by baby clothes. "Or maybe I should put the newborn ones on top. But then again, I don't know how fast the baby is going to grow."

Quinn glanced over from where he was screwing the last part of the crib on. "I think whatever you decide will be great."

Faye huffed. "You're just saying that. What if I mess this up? What if we're totally unprepared for when the baby gets here?"

"Faye, we're ready. The baby's not going to care if it's socks are in the wrong drawer. You've done so much already."

"I want everything to be perfect, Quinn."

"It will be perfect. You're not doing this on your own."

"I know. Thank you for being here."

"I'd rather be here than anywhere else," he leaned down and kissed her temple. "What's next on the list, boss?"

Faye stood in the middle of the room, staring at the crib. It was freshly made, ready for the baby with nothing that cause any dangers while it slept. It should've given her a sense of peace, but instead she was still freaking out.

"We have the crib," she gnawed at her bottom lip. "But... we also have the bassinet."

Her eyes darted between the two pieces of furniture.

"Why do we need both?" she frantically ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots. "What if the baby hates the bassinet? What if they refuse to sleep in either? What if we've set everything up wrong and the baby doesn't sleep at all?"

Quinn came through the front door, just as she was doing another lap of the apartment.

"What's going on?"

"Do we really need the crib and the bassinet? Why do we have both?"

"The bassinet's for when the baby is super small. Easier to keep them close that way. Then we'll use the crib when they're older. That's what the book said, remember?"

Faye just let out a frustrated sigh. Of course she remembered. But nothing felt logical anymore. Everything could go wrong in a million different ways.

Quinn moved to the kitchen to make some tea while Faye continued to pace.

"What if the baby doesn't latch?" she stopped in her tracks. "What if breastfeeding doesn't work? What if we have to switch to formula and we're unprepared?"

"If breastfeeding doesn't work, we'll figure it out. Formula is fine, Faye. We'll handle it."

"But what if the formula we pick isn't right? What if the baby's allergic to it or something? And I've been reading about colic. What if the baby screams for hours every night and we don't know what to do?"

Quinn walked over, gently taking her hands in his. "Breathe. We'll figure it out if that happens. And if the baby doesn't latch, we'll get help. It's not all on you."

"But what about the bottles? Why do we need a warmer and a sanitizer? Can't we just use the microwave?"

Quinn stifled a laugh, realizing Faye wasn't in the mood for humour. "The bottle warmer is supposed to heat it more evenly than the microwave. And the sanitizer is for making sure things are really clean. Trust me, people do it all the time. We've got it covered."

"It just feels like there's so much to keep track of. I keep thinking I'm missing something important, and then I panic," she sighed, collapsing onto the couch.

"You're not missing anything," Quinn reassured. "You've done everything. The apartment is ready, the hospital bag is packed, the car seat is installed in your car, we've got all the gear we need. We are prepared."

"What if the baby gets cold at night? And the swaddle isn't enough?"

"They'll teach us about that at the hospital, Faye. And we have those sleep sacks, we'll make sure the baby is all nice and cozy."

"I-"

"Faye, no more. We're going to be fine. We don't have to be perfect. No first-time parents are perfect. Now, let's watch something and stop talking. You're giving me a headache."

"Hey!"

Quinn was right. They didn't need to be perfect, they just needed to work together.

It was late in the evening, just two days before her due date, when Faye felt a strange twinge of pain. She had been lying on the couch, flipping through Netflix while Quinn did dishes. At first she thought it was just more Braxton Hicks, she got those a lot, but as the pain spread and deepened, her brain told her it wasn't.

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as another wave of pain gripped her lower back. She knew what was happening now. This wasn't a false alarm.

"Quinn?"

"What's up?"

"I think... I think I'm going into labour. The baby's coming."

Quinn froze for a moment, his eyes widening. "Are you sure?"

"I don't now," she admit, feeling the pain again. "But these feel different. Stronger."

Quinn was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on her lower back. "Okay, let's time them. Figure this out."

The next half hour was a blur of counting and breathing. Faye's contractions came steadily, each one closer than the last. She could feel the baby moving lower with each wave of pain, the pressure in her abdomen nothing like she'd ever experienced before.

"Four minutes. We should go."

Once Faye actually got in a bed, doctors and nurses were hooking her up to things, checking her vitals, checking the baby's heartrate, seeing how dilated she was.

They told her she was about six centimetres. And that she and Quinn had some time to wait. Faye had to take her mind off the pain, wracking her brain for something to do.

"You know, Quinn, I really don't know the basics about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Like your favourite colour, favourite movie, that kind of stuff."

"You want to play 20 questions while you wait to push?" he laughed.

"Yes. I'll go first, what's your favourite colour?"

"Blue. I know it's basic. What's yours?"

"Green. But not just any green. Like forest green. Like deep in the woods of Vermont typa shit."

"You have quite the way with words, Faye."

"I know," she winked.

"If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Hmm, anywhere that I'm happy and with people I care about. But preferably close to a body of water. I find that calming."

"Vancouver, here we come," Quinn smiled, allowing her to squeeze his hand as another contraction hit.

"Are you scared to be a dad?"

"Wow, hard hitting question. I mean, a little. But isn't everyone? I think I'm mostly worried about being there for you guys. Are you scared to be a mom?"

"Fucking terrified. But I can't exactly shove it back in the oven for any longer," she joked, allowing him to brush some hair from her sweaty forehead. "Do I look hot?"

"Oh, amazing. Hotter than when I met you at that party."

"Don't even mention that party. That party's got me pushing a watermelon out of my--"

"Shut up," Quinn cackled.

"One more big push and we've got the baby, Mama!" the doctor smiled.

"I hate you, Quinn Hughes. Ahh!" she gripped his hand, giving her one final push. And then cries filled the room.

"It's a boy!"

Faye collapsed, too tired to cry as they placed the baby on her chest. Quinn, however, wasn't too tired to cry. He wiped at his eyes, staring in wonder at the slime-covered baby on Faye's chest.

"We'll get him all cleaned up and then you can hold him, Dad."

He nodded, kissing Faye's forehead. "You did it, Faye. I'm so proud."

"Is he okay?" she mumbled, beyond exhausted.

"He's perfect. He has my nose, I think. You tell me what you think once he's all clean."

"He's really here."

"He's here," Quinn nodded. "Our baby boy."

A couple minutes later, the nurse brought the baby back, now clean and bundled up, only his face peeking out of the blanket. "Here he is, Mama."

Her little face was scrunched up, his eyes closed, and his lips puckered in the most adorable way possible. Faye stared at him in awe, lightly tracing his cheek with her knuckle.

"Quinn," she whispered. "He's perfect."

Quinn leaned over, wrapping his arm around her as they gazed down at their son. "Yeah. He's perfect."

His little nose did look like Quinn's, but she could see traces of herself in him too, in his chin and the curve of his lips.

"He has your mouth," Quinn said softly, noticing the same thing she did.

"And your nose."

Quinn reached out, gently loosening the blanket and brushing the baby's tiny hand with his finger. The baby stirred slightly, his little fingers curling around one of Quinn's. It was just the three of them, wrapped in their own little perfect bubble of love.

"What are we going to name him?" Faye continued to whisper, not taking her eyes off the bundle of joy in her arms.

"I think... he looks like a James. What do you think?"

Faye smiled. "James. I like it. James Hughes."

Quinn grinned, kissing the top of her head. "James Hughes it is."

Everything they had been through--the stress, the worry, the fear--had all led to that moment. It was all worth it. And as Faye held James close, she felt her heart swell in a way it never had before. She'd never held so much love for one thing.

She glanced at Quinn, who was still staring at James. She reached up, wiping away the last of Quinn's tears with her thumb.

"We're a family."

Quinn smiled, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. "Yeah, we're a family."

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine

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anghraine · 6 months ago

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I know I've ranted about it a million times, but every time someone brings up Roman, Byzantine, and Egyptian inspirations/influences on Gondor in more mainstream Tolkien fandom spaces (not me, because I don't even talk about it off Tumblr/DW), it seems like there's always someone who gets super weird and defensive about it. I've seen so many "well actually there's no need to consider any influences outside of England, mythology for England blah blah" responses.

And it's like! Oh, you want to play the decontextualized Tolkien quotes game? How about this one:

“But this [the setting of LOTR] is not a purely 'Nordic' area in any sense. If Hobbiton and Rivendell are taken (as intended) to be at about the latitude of Oxford, then Minas Tirith, 600 miles south, is at about the latitude of Florence [in Italy]. The Mouths of Anduin and the ancient [Gondorian] city of Pelargir are at about the latitude of ancient Troy [in Turkey]. Auden has asserted that for me 'the North is a sacred direction.' That is not true. The North-west part of Europe, where I (and most of my ancestors) have lived, has my affection, as a man’s home should. I love its atmosphere, and know more of its histories and languages than I do of other parts; but it is not ‘sacred’, nor does it exhaust my affections. I have, for instance, a particular love for the Latin language, and among its descendants for Spanish ... The progress of the tale ends in what is far more like the re-establishment of an effective Holy Roman Empire with its seat in Rome than anything that would be devised by a 'Nordic.'”

Or this one:

we come [in ROTK] to the half-ruinous Byzantine City of Minas Tirith

Or:

In the south Gondor rises to a peak of power, almost reflecting Númenor, and then fades slowly to decayed Middle Age, a kind of proud, venerable, but increasingly impotent Byzantium.

Or:

The Númenóreans of Gondor were proud, peculiar, and archaic, and I think are best pictured in (say) Egyptian terms. In many ways they resembled ‘Egyptians’ - the love of, and power to construct, the gigantic and massive. And in their great interest in ancestry and in tombs. […] I think the crown of Gondor (the S. Kingdom) was very tall, like that of Egypt, but with wings attached, not set straight back but at an angle. The N. Kingdom had only a diadem (III 323). Cf. the difference between the N. and S. kingdoms of Egypt.

Or:

Thank you very much for your letter. … It came while I was away, in Gondor (sc. Venice), as a change from the North Kingdom

Middle-earth is not equivalent to England, or northern Europe in general, and Gondor especially is not northern at all!

#fun fact: in the full letter it comes from tolkien concludes the mythology for england quote with 'absurd.'#and he specifically used gondor as a counter-example to the 'nordic' image of middle-earth #like it's literally explicitly stated by tolkien that gondor is not meant to be analogous to england or northern europe at all #anghraine rants #legendarium blogging #jrr tolkien #gondor #ondonórë blogging #lord of the rings #the letters of jrr tolkien #legendarium fanwank

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mothandpidgeon · 20 days ago

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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 1

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), slow burn, yearning, soft!Ezra, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), reader is a millennial but otherwise not described, Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.1k

a/n: This one is for all my Thackary Binx girlies. I've had some version of this story in my brain for years now. I'm very excited slash nervous to be sharing it with you!

Thank you @moonlitbirdie and @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thanks @tinytinymenace for suggesting the title and @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me ramble about this.

🐈‍⬛

Connor’s mouth is on you before you can get your key in the door. He’s lucky he’s a good kisser because he spent most of your date talking about his music. You’re lucky you don’t have a guitar because you’re pretty sure he’d serenade you.

“Sorry. I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says after you press him back.

You laugh, triumph blossoming in your chest.

“At least control yourself until we get inside,” you tease.

You hold his hand as you let yourself in. It’s quiet and dark now save the little reading lamp beside the faded, floral sofa. You’re relieved, maybe nobody’s home.

“Cool place,” Connor says wandering in behind you.

He’s taking in the details of your little apartment— a small kitchen tiled in green and an equally cozy living room. The attic ceilings slant with the roofline. There are pressed flowers and astrological charts on the walls, their frames outlined by the vines of overgrown philodendron. You pull him into another kiss so his eyes don’t linger too long on the books on your shelves, before he wonders why the spice rack is full of jars of belladonna and blackthorn instead of garlic and cinnamon.

He squeezes your hips and your hands lace through his hair. Connor might not be the one but that’s not what you’re looking for. He’s exactly the kind of guy you won’t feel guilty about ghosting. Until then, he’ll be a good lay.

He’s got his hand up your shirt when you hear your bedroom door squeak on its hinges. Out saunters Ezra, stretching out his long, black body like he’s just woken up. He was probably dozing on his favorite spot in the bay window.

“Hi, Ez,” you say, stepping out of Connor’s arms. Your cheeks heat, feeling like you’ve been caught doing something obscene.

Ezra brushes against your shins, a move that’s more territorial than it is affectionate.

“Did we wake you?” you ask, scritching him on the white patch between his ears.

“This your cat?” Connor asks.

To call Ezra your cat as if you owned him doesn’t feel right. Even calling him a cat seems inaccurate. Ezra’s been your familiar since you were 18, passed down through generations of your family, but he was once a witch in his own right before being cursed to live in this form for 1000 years.

“That’s Ezra,” you say, sidestepping the question entirely.

“Ez, this is Connor.”

“Hi, kitty. Pss pss pss,” Connor tries, crouching down to offer a hand for Ezra to sniff.

Ezra does no such thing. He merely looks at him disdainfully, then his golden eyes shift to you with a look that says you’ve got to be kidding me.

“Want a drink?” you ask, pulling Connor’s attention away.

“Yeah,” he says. He takes off his jacket making himself at home.

Ezra never approves of any of your dates and he isn’t shy about letting them know it, scratching up their jeans and hiding wallets under the couch. Once he left a hairball in a pair of new sneakers. As much as it drives you insane, you can’t be angry with him. It’s his job to not only be a companion and do your bidding but also to protect you. Now it feels like you’re bringing dates home to your older brother. Your older brother by a few centuries. He was turned sometime before the country existed.

As you pour two glasses of wine, Connor slips his hands around your waist and his lips graze your neck. You’re already working up incantations for passion, whispering the words to yourself as he kisses down to your shoulder. The one good thing about being a witch is you can mask even the worst sex with a little bit of magic. Not that you have low expectations for Connor. There’s a promising bulge where you grind your ass back into him.

A crash rouses you from your reverie.

“Ez!” you bark.

Ezra has swatted Connor’s phone to the floor. He sits on the counter with a mild defiance on his feline face.

“That’s ok,” Connor says, retrieving it and turning it over. “He didn’t mean it. Right bud?”

You’re not sure that cats can roll their eyes but Ezra does whatever the equivalent is before turning away with his tail raised to give Connor a full view of his asshole. He hops gracefully to the floor and retreats back into the other room.

“Sorry. He doesn’t really like…people,” you say.

“That’s ok. As long as you like me,” he says, pulling you back into his body.

You laugh at him before you let him kiss you.

—

“Should we go to the bedroom?” you ask.

You’re straddling Connor’s lap on the sofa. The strap of your black, lace bra dangles off of your shoulder.

“Huh?” he replies, as if he’s been roused from a trance. “Yeah.”

You chuckle to yourself. His lips are kiss swollen and eyes dazed. There’s a reason why witches are known to be seductive. Mortals can’t resist the magic.

You slide off of his lap and guide him up towards your room.

Ezra’s sleeping on your pillow, curled into a soft little ball.

“Wait here,” you tell Connor, depositing him on the edge of your bed. “Let me just—“

You scoop Ezra up and he lets out a yowl in displeasure. You take him to the living room, set him on the back of the couch and he blinks up at you, groggy and annoyed.

“Exiled once again,” he complains, his human voice a silky southern drawl.

“Just for a couple of hours. Can you stay out here?” you ask, your voice hushed.

“Have I not suffered enough?”

“Youre right. It’s so terrible.” You roll your eyes. “I make you sleep on the couch instead of the bed.”

“Two hundred and fifty three years in this feline form—“ he goes on.

“Keep your voice down,” you hiss.

“ —And the true curse is listening to you fornicate with a cavalcade of dim witted mortals,” he goes on.

“Did you say something?” Connor asks.

You whip your head around to find him standing in your doorway.

“Not to you, hun,” you say. With a flick of your finger, he turns on his heel and goes back inside. You’ll have to cast another spell to rid him of any magical memories.

“I live here, too, little mage,” Ezra says.

“Well, when you start paying rent, we’ll get a two bedroom,” you quip.

“That little jest never gets old,” he grumbles.

He leaps down from the couch and heads to the entryway.

“Where are you going?” you ask, keeping your words as quiet as you can.

“Leaving you to your debauchery,” Ezra says over his shoulder and he disappears through the flap in the bottom of the front door.

—

In the morning, you wake up alone.

Of course, you got rid of Connor as soon as you were sated. He asked to see you again to which you have a noncommittal answer.

You’d expected Ezra to return, though. He might complain about being kicked out of bed but he knows nobody stays the night.

“I only sleep with one man and that’s you,” you joke all the time.

Each night you rest your chin on the top of his head, his warm body pressed back into your chest. It’s hard for you to fall asleep without Ezra purring beside you.

You linger for a while after getting dressed, sitting in the bay window and watching the leaves begin to fall. The apartment feels so empty without Ezra in it. It’s too quiet. That damned cat has two centuries worth of stories and you’ve heard them all ten times. You’re constantly begging him to shut up. Right now, you feel oddly lonely.

Eventually you decide that waiting around for him is silly. You’ve got to get to work. Fortunately, you only need to venture down the back stairs and you’re there. Your apartment is in the attic of The Arcane Page.

You let yourself in and you’re immediately hit by the smell of leather bound books, old paper, and the drying herbs Aunt Margot has hanging from the ceiling. The shop is packed so tightly with rows of bookshelves and oddities, it’s almost impossible to tell that this used to be a proper house. What had once been confined to the front rooms grew to take over the kitchen and sun porch, up the stairs to the bedrooms until the whole thing functioned as the store.

The old Victorian is just off the main street that’s filled with quaint cafes, gift shops, and antique stores. It attracts all sorts— wannabe spiritual types looking for selenite wands, academics in search of rare books, and old ladies drawn in by the lush garden out front. Witches, too. The basement is full of spell books and strange ingredients, off limits to mortals.

You hear aunt Margot’s jewelry before she comes into sight, Her gold earrings tinkling, bracelets jangling.

“Morning, dear,” she says, without glancing in your direction. She knows you’re coming before you arrive and not just because she can hear you on the back stairs.

She’s behind the counter in one of her regular linen dresses, dark hair streaked with silver falling around her shoulders. She pours from her porcelain tea pot.

“Has Ez come down here?” you ask, glancing around the bookshelves to all of his favorite hiding spots.

“No?” she says. She pushes one of the cups your way. Delicate and decorated with spell work, the scent of assam wafts up to your nostrils. “Percy, have you seen your friend Ezra?”

A little white mouse appears on the counter, paws clutching one of Margot’s rings. He scrunches up his pink nose at the suggestion he’s a friend of Ezra. Margot’s familiar has never gotten along with him. Despite the fact that one of them is a demon and the other is a cursed witch, the old cat versus mouse thing is somehow universal. Ezra’s threatened to eat Percival a hundred times, sometimes leaving dead chipmunks and mice at the threshold of the bookstore just to amuse himself.

Percy shakes his head haughtily and then wraps his body around Margot’s steaming teacup.

“He’s mad at me,” you sigh.

“How come?” she asks, an eyebrow arched curiously.

“I had company last night.” You put the cup to your lips as soon as the words leave you.

“Let me guess. Another mortal.” Margot rolls her dark-lined eyes. She leans on the counter and sips her tea.

You just shrug.

“Then I don’t blame him,” she says.

“It’s not the ‘50s. I can date a mortal. Didn’t you read Harry Potter?” you ask, knowing it’ll get a rise out of her.

“You millennial witches and Harry fucking Potter.

A mortal—“

“Killed my great great great great grandmother. I know,” you say. As if you haven’t had that fact drummed into you since you were old enough to walk. You decide not to mention how hypocritical it is that Margot dislikes mortals when she’ll happily take their money. It’s not worth it. The two of you have had this argument a hundred times.

“I like mortals. They’re uncomplicated,” you tell her.

“Uncomplicated? They’re boring.” She sets down her tea cup. “Have you ever been with another witch?”

Your cheeks heat at the question. Not because she’s your aunt. You’d tell her just about anything and, considering the fact that she raised you, she knows pretty much all there is about you. You’ve had plenty of sex but you’ve never done it with a witch, a fact that makes you feel like a virgin all over again. It’s not for lack of trying. There’s just not a whole lot of hot, single witches in your area. And while you’ve talked about going somewhere where the witches are in excess— Salem, New Orleans, Portland— you’ve always found some reason to stay in the Catskills screwing mortals.

Luckily, you don’t have to answer Aunt Margot’s question because Percy squeaks and she says, “I know but she won’t.” Then she turns her attention to you and translates, “Percy says you ought to just summon Ezra.”

You frown at him. You could. A simple spell would compel Ezra to return to you but you can never bring yourself to cast it. Maybe if he were just an ordinary familiar, not a witch with his own desires, you might feel more comfortable using magic on him like that, but he has so little of his own. The least you can give him is the freedom to be alone if that’s what he wants.

“You spoil him,” she tells you. Sometimes you’re not sure if Margot can read your thoughts or if she just knows you well. “He’s your familiar not your roommate.”

You finish your tea and put the cup down on its saucer.

“You know what? I’m going to shelve some books downstairs,” you say.

“Oh would you look at that,” Margot says, peering into your empty cup with amusement on her lips. “Maybe there is a witch in your future after all.”

She holds the teacup out for you to see the wet leaves have formed a clump in the shape of a heart.

—

Ezra’s limping by the time he returns home. The sun has already begun to dip below the trees, painting the sky autumnal shades of purple and orange. Though he resents the idea he’s turned into a house cat, he’d much rather spend the night on the couch than have to do another in the damn woods. No matter how much it hurts.

“Where the hell have you been?” you ask when he slips back through the cat door.

You’re immediately kneeling beside him, concern cutting your pretty features. Shame settles between his shoulders. As your familiar, he has no right to disappear for an entire day. He almost wishes you’d punish him— dunk him in an ice bath or beat him with a hair brush like some of his old masters had— but he knows you won’t. You’re too good to him. That’s where he went wrong and fell in love with you.

It happened slowly. You treated him more like a pet than a servant. From the very beginning, you let him sleep in your bed, drifting off to sleep as you stroked his belly. Sometimes he thought you were the one purring. You talked to him. Not just about magic but you shared your entire life with him. No witch had trusted him, called him a friend in all the time since he’d been cursed, not until you.

As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized this was more than just affection. You were beautiful and bold. And he couldn’t do anything about it.

You’re off limits in every way. In human years, you’re not young but you’re practically a child compared to his 300 years. The bond between witch and familiar is sacred, a line even a witch as forward thinking as you would never dare to cross. And, of course, there’s the little matter of his being a cat.

“I was getting really worried,” you say.

“You requested solitude,” he responds.

You sigh and pick him up, setting him on the counter.

“You hurt your leg,” you tutt, taking his paw in your hand so you can examine his injury.

He spent the night prowling the forest, anything to save himself the agony of hearing you with that mortal. In this self pity, he’d picked a fight with one of the feral tomcats that lives in the old graveyard.

“This is why I don’t like it when you stay out all night,” you chide as you disappear into the bathroom. “Those cats are vicious.”

You return with a small jar of healing ointment you brewed specially for him.

“I’ve walked this earth a cat longer than those mangey beasts. Longer than I was human,” he says.

You begin by cleaning the cut, his fur now matted with blood and leaves. Your touch isn’t unfamiliar to Ezra yet he still wonders what it would be like to feel your skin, the softness of your cheek and plush thigh without a layer of fur in between. To hold your hand with one of his own.

“I’m sorry I kicked you out last night. You’re right. You live here too. And I know you don’t like mortals,” you say, as you clean his wound.

He’s let you believe that that’s why he’s so petulant when you bring your suitors around. Mortals have never been his cup of tea but he absolutely despises the ones that you bed, humans that have no business being with any witch let alone one like you.

“They’re below you. You deserve a proper witch,” Ezra says.

That’s a far more painful reality. Even if he were in the running, which he never will be, There are thousands of witches more worthy of you. One day you’ll find one and Ezra will watch you fall in love. With someone else. He’ll stay the same just as he has all these years, and be your loyal familiar even as you inevitably share less with him. He’ll watch you age and fade. Eventually, he’ll lose you entirely. Perhaps you’ll have a daughter that will take him on as her familiar but he can’t imagine caring for any other witch half as much as he loves you.

“Come on. You act like you never seduced a mortal,” you say.

The peppermint oil of the ointment tingles on his tender leg.

“There was an art to such things in my time. One had to concert more effort than opening an app,” Ezra says.

You smirk as you finish bandaging him.

“I got you something. To make up for it,” you say when you’re finished.

You glance towards the coffee table, a cheeky smile playing on your lips. Ezra follows your gaze to find a tray of take out sashimi waiting there. His stomach growls. Perhaps he is a house cat. He’d forgotten to catch himself dinner.

You bring him over and lift the plastic lid off of the container and Ezra sniffs at the glistening fish. It smells glorious.

He wishes he deserved you. You know what he is, what he did to be convicted of such a harsh curse and yet you care for him like no other witch has.

He swallows down the lump in his throat.

“Is this tuna belly?” he asks.

“Your favorite.”

“I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you,” Ezra says though you’ve done nothing wrong.

You scoop him off of the table, cradling him like a baby.

“Easy on the wound, little mage,” he complains but secretly his heart swells.

You laugh and kiss the white patch on his brow.

“I love you, Ez.”

🐈‍⬛

Part 2

I'd love to hear from you! Don't be shy!

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect fic #pedro pascal fic #ezra x f!reader #witchy #ezra prospect x f!reader #prospect fan fiction

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autistichalsin · 9 months ago

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Halsin and abandonment issues

One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.

To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.

Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.

It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:

"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."

"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."

And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.

If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):

"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."

Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.

After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:

"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."

He was expecting the party not to stick together.

Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:

"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."

The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.

His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."

He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".

I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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catoslvt · 6 months ago

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Newt (TMR) x Reader

you confess to Newt as he's a crank.

this is probably gonna be very quick.

As Newt jumps on me, sending me spiralling backwards into the floor, I look over at Thomas, who is standing clueless

"Go get the cure! I can handle him!" I scream, Thomas gives me a concerned look before running off anyway.

My attention is suddenly grabbed again by Newt, who now has a knife. Where did he get it from? I've got no clue, but all that matters is getting it out of his hands.

"I don't want to hurt you." Newt snaps, his tone certainly sounding like someone who wants to hurt me.

"You don't need to, please." I beg, but his eyes have faded over again, and he lowers the knife to hover above where my heart is, but I quickly knock the knife from his grip, and it moves far away on the concrete meaning I'm now gonna need to fight Newt with my hands.

"Keep talking!" Newt screams, his eyes flashing only a slight bit of normality before the flare comes back over him, and he's trying to hit me, so I do what he told me to do, talk.

"I've been in love with you since the scorch trials." I say as my hand connects with his jaw, and he stumbles off me, allowing me to stand up, and as I look at Newt, I realise he landed beside the knife.

"What?" He chokes, and I nod tears at the brims of my eyes.

"When Aris led me to your rooms from the vents, I was terrified to meet you, but somehow, I managed to persuade you to leave WICKED and I fell inlove with you almost straight away, I've never looked back. I've never wanted any other boy the way I want you." I continue to talk as a few tears fall from my eyes, and Newt now stands up with the knife, his step staggering as he approaches me, but I suddenly see Thomas, Frypan, Minho and Gallys shadows about to turn round our corner, so I take a few footsteps towards Newt as he stands and stares, either fighting the flare really well or it's about to take over for good.

as I step closer, Newt opens his arms for a hug, and I can't help but do it, crank or not. I just confessed my love for him.

as he wraps my arms around my waist, I momentarily forget he has the knife until it gets plunged into my lower stomach before pulling out, and I step away with my mouth hanging open, clutching the knives enterance wound as blood pours from it.

"y/n!" I hear frypan scream, but it's too late, I've passed out.

I wake up in a small hut with a curtain as a door confused, where the fuck am I?

I quickly go to sit up, but I let out a huge groan as a pain shoots from my lower stomach, so I decide to take it slower and once I'm sitting up, I kick my legs off the bed and stand up, grabbing onto the wall for support before I slowly make my way out the room.

Okay, where the actual fuck am I.

there's tons of people here, mainly people my age or younger who are all walking around, there's huts, there's hammocks and there's even Gardens.

Gardens. Newt.

Newt.

the thought of his name brings a huge pain towards my stomach, and I groan and almost double over, but Aris sees me and rushes over.

"You're up!?" He exclaims and I nod confused.

"Where are we?" I ask, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry as though those three words took away all my willpower.

"The safe haven, a real one this time." He answers, gently grabbing my wrist as he begins to steer me to what seems like a kitchen, and when we walk in, frypan is cooking up dishes.

"Morning shuckface." He says with a small smile as he raises his eyes momentarily to fall onto me.

"How long have I been out for?" I ask and both Aris and Frypan shrug.

"A week or so? Newt got banned from your hut because he was constantly in there speaking to you, Vince thought he was gonna wake you up." Frypan answers, and my eyes almost bulge out my head

"Newt?" I gasp, and they both nod, confused.

"After you passed out, Thomas managed to give him the cure. It worked quite quickly, except there's still dark veins in places." Aris tells me before pointing over at Frypan.

"Can y/n get some water and a sandwich or something?" Aris asks, and Frypan nods, turning around and rummaging around in his make shift kitchen.

I sit alone at the edge of the beach, eating my sandwich and ever so often taking a few sips of water.

"How was the sleep?" The all too familiar voice of Newt asks with a slight laugh as he sits down beside me, but I don't turn to look at him, because the last time I saw him I confessed to him only to get a knife plunged into my stomach.

"Fine." I respond and listen, I'm not too pissed about the knife thing, I'm just scared in case he can remember what I told him.

"Nobody ever told me that turning into a Crank means getting memories back." He sighs, and I turn to look at him, Frypan was right, there is still some dark veins, but it's better than what he looked like as a crank.

"All of them?" I ask, and he nods.

"I remembered Sonya from your maze is my little sister, only her name was Elizabeth back then." He first of all starts, and I gasp slightly.

"I remember every shank from my Glade before we got sent up." He begins listing little things that must mean a lot to remember.

"I remember you." He then states, and I gasp a bit.

"we would've been held separately. How can you remember me?" I ask.

"Minho, Alby, Thomas, Teresa, and I used to all sneak into a maintenance closet somewhere in the WICKED building. One day, we walked in, and there you were, as innocent as ever eating a chocolate bar." Newt tells me and we both laugh slightly.

"From that day forward, you joined us every night in the closet, and I knew from the very first moment I saw you that I'd do whatever I could to protect you." He goes onto say before frowning.

"But I couldn't. You told me you loved me, and i stabbed you." He mutters, and my eyes widen.

for fuck sake did he need to keep those memories?

"we don't need to talk about that Newt, you got the cure, and you're fine, and my stomach is healing. It wasn't your fault." I say as I reach one of my hands over and grab his hand with mine giving it a small squeeze which he returns.

"I tried so hard to fight the flare, even momentarily to tell you that I love you too, tell you that from that closet I knew it was always gonna be you." He tells me, and I look into his eyes, really confused, what did he just say.

he loves me too?

he's joking.

he has to be.

maybe he still has the flare.

"What?" I finally ask, and he nods.

"I love you y/n, I always have." He states, and I smile widely.

"I love you too!" I exclaim, and he kisses me, being gentle with the movements to not hurt my stomach.

#fanfic #fiction #romance #writing #wattpad #tmr #tmr newt #newt tmr #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #newt x reader #the maze runner #scorch trials #death cure #the flare #crank palace #the fever code

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selfloverrrrrr · 5 months ago

Note

Stalker gojo pls 🙏🏼

Stalker ~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I work in a cafe. I live alone in my apartment. My apartment was in an empty area. That's because that's the only appartment I got in my range. I don't have too much money to afford a good apartment .

Gojo Satoru was famous person in Tokyo. Everyone knows him. But nobody knows what he does. Is a good person or a bad person? Nobody knows. But everyone knows that he's a dengerous person. I also know his name. But never seen him. So how can I know he's stalking me...?

All of this started from the cafe. I was working. Suddenly the bell rang. I looked at the door. A tall handsome man entered. His eyes were blue, white hair. He was wearing a sunglass. His outfit was black. He came in and took a sit.

I went to his table and bow down."what would you like to have sir..?" I asked. "Nothing much... just a latte please " he replied with a charming smile. "Ok sir " I said and took his order. "And what's your name?" I asked. "Hmm?" He raised his eyebrows. "Your name....to write on the cup" I said. "Ohh... yeah.... it's Gojo Satoru " he replied. A beat skipped my heart as head his name. "Ok" I said and quickly went out of there.

I went in the maid counter. My hands were shaking. Did I just met and talked with Tokyo's most famous man?! Fuck I've heard that guy is scary... I shouldn't get too close to him. I thought. Then I bring him his order. "Here's your order sir" I said. "Oh... thanks" he replied with a smile.

That was the first time I saw him. Since then he was almost a regular coustomer. He came in the cafe almost two or three times in a week. He knew my name now. But I don't even try to get too close. I just do my work. Cause I don't want to get in any kind of trouble.

After few days... It was a normal day. Gojo came in cafe again. And he never ordered anything else... just latte. That was he's regular. So I don't even have to ask him his order. I bring him his order then went back to the counter. After finishing his latte he he went to pay the bill. "Here's the money" he said and handed me. " Thank you sir... please do come again" I said. "Umm...y/n... can I talk to you please?" He asked. "Sure" I replied. "I think you're really cute... can I have your number?" He asked with a smile. My heart skipped a beat. " I-i.... actually sir... I'm not interested... I'm s-sorry " I replied with shaking voice. His smile faded away. "Do you have any boyfriend?" He asked in serious tone. "N-No... it's not about having boy-" I was saying "do you like someone?" He cut me off with again his serious tone. "N-No " I replied. Suddenly his smile came back on his face. "It's okey...see you soon.... bye " he said. 'fuck I almost thought that he's gonna kill me' I thought. "B-bye sir"I replied.

Gojo's POV

I was walking on the road. I saw a cafe. I've never went to the cafe. I don't know what came in my mind I went in the cafe. I went to a empty table. A maid came to me. When I looked at her....GODDDDD!!!! IS SHE A FUCKING ANGEL?! She asked my name. She looked scared when she heard my name. I smirked at myself. Is she scared of me like those other peoples...? Well you don't have to be scared darling. I like you. I have fallen in love with you.... and when I tell myself something as mine... I make that mine...In. Any. Cost.

I have a great obsession with her. But never let anyone know that. Not anyone. I always stalk her everywhere.

I went to my room. I grabbed the door knob and opened it. I opened the door and went inside. I smirked at the view infront of me. That room's wall was full with y/n's pictures. Her pictures that I took every time I stalked her. I love her and I want her. I looked at the table in that room. I went to the laptop and opened it. I started playing all the footage of those cameras I set all over y/n's house. She's in her bathroom. I've seen her body so many times before. But God! I never get tired. "soon gonna feel that body, darling" I whispered.

A few days later. I went to the cafe again. Today I asked her for her number. But she rejected?! I asked her if she had a boyfriend or if likes someone. I know she doesn't but still I asked. She said no. I smiled. 'so she wants the hard way,huh?.... Fine!' I told myself and leave the cafe.

Y/n's POV

I just closed the cafe. It was dark at night and there was no one around to be seen. I was walking quietly when suddenly someone spoke. "I think its not good for a beautiful girl like you walk all alone at this hour. would you like me to take you home?" The voice said. When I looked beside me. It was Gojo.

He Smiled creepily at me as I notice a shadow of a knife on his hip. "Im a very gentleman person... you know and you don't need to be scared of me. Im just trying to help you get home." He said. My heart was pounding. I know he's a dengerous man... and I really don't want any trouble. "T-T-Thank you.....but I don't n-need your help" I said as I tried to walk first.

He starts to approach me. "So you rather choose walking alone than come with me? Dont you think you will be a easy target for someone to attack?" He said. I looked at the knife in his pocket. "Oh the knife..? Are you scared of that???" He said as he pulled out the knife from his pocket and threw it on the road. " I don't need any knife to have you " he said. And I looked at him confusedly. He suddenly put a cloth on my mouth and dragged me in his car.

When my eyes open again I was in my bedroom. But there wasn't any clothes on me. I started panicking. I looked beside me then I saw Gojo infront of me. He was taking off his clothes. I was about to get off the bed when Gojo grabbed my hand and pulled me harshly towards him. My back was on the bed and he climbed on top of me. " Where do you think you are going....huh??? " He said with a smirk. his hand slowly reaching up from my inner thigh. " Why don't you just relax darling..." he said and his hand reached my core. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside and started thursting in and out. "G-gojo stop" I moaned loudly. "Oh... You liked that?" He smirked at me.

He started thursting his finger in and out harshly. Looking at me and smiling like a psycho which make me froze in fear. "You like getting fucked by me right???? That's why you are squeezing my fingers like that!" He whispered in my ear. "S-stop....p-please.." I begged. He looked at me again. He paused his fingers. "Why did you rejected me huh? Do you know how much I love you? I stalked you everywhere you go.... I've cameras all over your house...I loveed you these much and you rejected me???...If I got you pragnent then you can't resist me right???!!!!" He said in a low voice.

"N-no.... n-no.... I don't want that... please" I begged him. He didn't even listen to me. I tried to push his chest but nothing. Gojo started licking on my nipple. He was being a tease. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.

I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed my leg and pulled me again in that place. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. "Gojo Gojo .... please no .... G-gojo please no... Don't do this again please!!!" I begged him and tears started falling from my eyes but he didn't listen. "Call me Satoru.... You should call me by the first name, baby" he said kissing my cheeks.

Gojo pushed his whole length in one slide and I scremed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was screming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thursting getting faster and harder. "This .... This is mine.... I wouldn't.... I wouldn't let anyone take it from me!!!!" He said between moans. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot make my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.

He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside... please" I begged him. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out and whispered in my ear with a smirk "I'm sure.... you'll be carrying my child". He whispered and fall beside me taking deep breaths.

" You are mine and just fucking mine. Don't ever dare to think of anyone else for a moment. Or else you know damn well what I'm gonna do." He whispered in my ear.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

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astvrook · 4 months ago

Text

洪水 | YANDERE THEMES | NI-KI.

"of course I've missed you, mum." you mumble, with the fluency of an actor. you'd even consider auditioning for a theatre major if you weren't so busy sorting out your new flat, instead of focusing on your college plans.

at home, your parents seem to have been struggling. growing up, you sometimes heard them talk about love and promise to be faithful to each other, but to you, love shouldn't be demonstrated through weekly fights that often lead to breakups or the threat of divorce, which puts everyone in the family's mental health at risk.

the only positive connection you had with your sister, but that complicity faded as you got older, as she fell into adolescence and became addicted to partying, clothes shopping and chatting with friends. meanwhile, you've moved to a new city to live on your own and continue your college studies in a new environment after applying for a transfer.

your main goal and dream is to maintain excellent grades, so you won't be forced by your parents to move back. and sure, you don't miss much about your old town. In fact, you had some friends there that you left behind, good friends who may now think you're selfish for not even saying goodbye to them, among them ni-ki.

nishimura riki, a year younger than you, came into your life thanks to his relationship with your younger sister, which began three years ago. with his sharp tongue and quick temper, he was a sweet boy who somehow impressed you and stood out among the others. over time, you became close to each other as you discovered that you shared common tastes, had a similar sense of humour and seemed to complement each other. and yet, you eventually had to walk away from him, not because of the implications of a stronger-than-usual relationship, but because of what that closeness stirred up inside of you.

more precisely, things changed between of you that night you went out to celebrate his coming of age and he tried to kiss you. while he quickly apologised for his thoughtless act and reiterated his interest in your sister, it was clear in his eyes and shyness that his feelings were not as clear as he had intended. you silently wondered why he didn't acknowledge his interest in you. and as much as you hated the situation, the suspicion that he might have been in love with you warmed your heart a little, although you felt pity for waiting for someone who wouldn't fight for you.

so you decided to move away to protect your emotional peace from people who could complicate your life.

determined not to fall in love just for the sake of appearances, a few weeks after moving to the new city, you ventured out. you felt it was the right time to have new experiences at your age, so you set up dates with people you met online and sometimes arranged them when you had time off from your university studies. you made it clear that you weren't looking for a relationship at the time, and although you felt like you were being watched in these situations, as if there was something wrong or someone judging you, you tried to convince yourself that it was just delusional paranoia.

"i'll call back later, need to hang up," you stated hurriedly, trying to say you were busy without wanting to sound rude, especially since the caller was your mum.

and, as you grab the doorknob to enter your apartment, you get the unpleasant feeling that it's damp. "yuck" you think, but you quickly head to the kitchen to start organising what you've just shopped for.

"maybe you will, or maybe you won't. i do. i know you well, (y/n)," says your mum. "and before I forget, just wanted to tell you that (your sister's name) wanted to talk to you this morning. she seems to need help with her birthday arrangements."

you scowl as you notice that the air-conditioner is not on and respond: "i'll take care of it, but it's got to be her who calls me, mom, she's got a mobile phone after all."

"she claimed to have called you, but there was no response to her messages," insists your mother.

"that's not possible…" you start to argue, but as you check your phone on the dresser to scroll through the notification bar, you notice your sister's missed messages and calls from a few days ago. "ouh…"

you notice that you've been carrying your phone with you less often lately, and you face reality and admit that you only carry it when you have an important date, and also when you want to get away from something or someone, and you realise this when you see ni-ki's messages.

"she's your sister, (y/n), you shouldn't ignore her. I don't know what happened between the two of you or what's going on, but you'll have to work it out. just remember that you're older and you shouldn't act like a spoilt girl."

the term "spoilt girl" was familiar to you, as your father used to call them that when they fought over a toy. It's so ironic.

"well… au revoir, mum," you said before hanging up.

although your mum was right that you should work on rebuilding your relationship with your sister, you were reluctant to do so in a short phone conversation of twenty minutes or fewer. plus, you're not yet ready to admit the real reason why you "broke" up with her: your mistake of falling in love with her boyfriend. so, for now, you prefer to wait for your guilt to subside before facing his advice, while you go to organise the products in the fridge.

about sixty minutes later, when you hear a notification on your mobile phone, your body goes into alert mode because it might be the girl you went out with yesterday, minji (she, with her black hair flowing gracefully down her back and a face that could touch the gods themselves, gave you a great time strolling along the seashore) and without wanting to admit it, your impatience overwhelms you, as if you were a schoolgirl eagerly awaiting another text message from her, or yearning for some sign that you're not so boring (again) that she doesn't want to go out on a second date with you.

by contrast, when you switch on your mobile phone and see a new message from ni-ki, feel like time has stopped, leaving you unable to move. although a wave of emotions overcomes the panic in your heart, your mind urges you to take a deep breath and count to a hundred. and the idea of staying calm is a distant option at the moment.

one side of your mouth is crooked, you realise, and in your mind you criticise him, silently pleading that it's not the end. but you soon realise that you look pathetic because you can't even reply to one of his messages.

so you decide to ignore him again.

(...)

just after midnight, ni-ki entered the apartment, moving cautiously as if he was afraid of waking up his girlfriend in their shared apartment, an idea that proved true for him, at least in his mental world. he moved slowly through the environment, stopping at the end to stare at the door with relief when he realised how easy it was to get in, and felt a brief moment of triumph as he savoured the sensation, which quickly gave way to the reality of being in your space.

"finally..." ni-ki spun around, letting any trace of manners fade away, rivalled only by the sound of his slippers on the floor and by the beating of his heart.

before he enters your room, he releases the handle to lift his feet, removes his slippers and places them next to the wall in a gesture that others don't consider necessary but you appreciate as a sign of good manners. and he congratulates himself because he has eliminated from his behaviour what he knows bothers you: eating with his mouth open, using the phone while eating, talking too loudly in important situations, etc. all to please you.

sure, most people fear death, but for ni-ki, the biggest fear is not being loved. ever since he saw a picture of you on your sister's phone, he has been trying to be the perfect boy. he has adopted your favourite colour, your culinary tastes, and even your film preferences. needless to say, he studied how to behave with you, wondering if one day your eyes would fall on him or you would miraculously wake up feeling perfect and wishing he were by your side forever.

your sister may have been nice at first, which ni-ki liked. however, he started the relationship mainly to fit in with his friends and to avoid being teased for being single. you and she inherited your mother's hair colour, share the same eye colour and have a strikingly similar appearance. despite this, (your sister's name) failed to awaken ni-ki's desire to dominate her, and as the days passed, her desire to end the relationship grew.

he chooses not to wait for you to wake up to speak, instead reaching into the collar of his shirt to lift the fabric over his head, and makes room for his torso to be caressed by the coolness of the room, settling with his knees on the mattress on either side of your hips.

you almost always sleep on your stomach, giving him a free hand to climb up and kiss you on your upper back.

a faint humming sound from your mouth interrupts the silence of the night.

"shh… just go back to sleep in peace."

ni-ki notices your limbs relaxing and your lips quivering, and stops abruptly. he places his hand on the side of your face, asking for support and confessing, "when i heard you left, i almost lost my mind, can you imagine? can you imagine? without you, i'm nothing."

his throat is dry and muscles are tense, as he brace for what's to come…. something bad. although ni-ki had promised to give you time to fall in love with him, promises often remain unfulfilled. and tonight, that promise will cost you dearly.

"how naïve, noona. always so selfish to bring everything of yours and not come back." ni-ki continues to speak, barely able to moving his body away from yours, his nose buried in your hair and feeling dizzy from the fragrance. "but forgetting the most important thing: of me."

LISTA MAESTRA DE ENHYPEN

#yandere enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #yandere enha #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x female #Ni-ki x reader #enha #Nishimura Riki #Spotify #enha x you #enha x reader #enha x y/n #enhypen x lector #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n

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hyuuukais · 8 months ago

Text

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, y/n talks abt being compared to her sister, family tension, food/eating mention, lowkey survivors guilt going on

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -> LIKE IT USED TO BE (partially written, wc: 898)

"Oh good, you're not dead yet," Han speaks a bit loudly into the phone and you move it away from your face slightly.

The bright screen has your eyes straining in the otherwise dark room, tucked under a plush comforter from your childhood. It's amazing it's still in good condition considering how old it is, but your bed squeaks under you to remind you of the age of this room full of old memories. On the night stand next to you is a framed photo of you with your family, your mom and dad standing behind you and another little girl, slightly taller than you; your sister. You lean over and put the frame face down.

"Still alive, barely," you reply with a sigh. "Why'd you assume I'm having a bad time?"

"Let me think," he puts a finger to his bottom lip in fake concentration. "'How am I supposed to last four more days'... doesn't exactly sound like someone having a good time."

"You caught me, but I swear it's nothing." A lie. "Nothing interesting." A truth; is your family drama really worth talking about? "How's the apartment?"

"Fine. We've started to try and befriend the guy down the hall, Seungmin? Maybe you've run into him?" You shake your head. "Minho seems to get along with him the best. I think it's because they both act unwelcoming to strangers."

This makes you snort. The two of you continue to talk and laugh, the cats making an appearance at one point with Minho, who gives you a short wave, and you don't realize how late it's getting until your eyes catch the time briefly; 3:08AM. Shit. How loud have you been? You freeze when you hear a door open, muting Jisung on the other end and flipping your phone over. Your door opens.

"What are you doing up so late? Don't you know what time it is?" Your sister groans. "And you're being kind of loud, mind keeping it down a bit? Who're you even talking to?"

"No one," you say too quickly, internally cringing at yourself. "Sorry. I'm going to bed soon."

"You're lucky it was me and not mom who walked in here," she says with a sort of laugh. "She would have screamed her head off and taken your phone, despite being an adult now."

You sit up. "Yeah."

"She really fucked us up a bit, huh?" She sits next to you hesitantly when you don't reply. "Maybe we'd be closer now."

"Hyo-"

"I'm sorry," she stands suddenly. "I shouldn't be saying all this. Forget this, please." Your older sister stands in the doorway, eyes pleading. "Don't mention this to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," you whisper, knowing damn well Jisung heard every word.

As you listen to her footsteps fade, you learn to breath again, flipping your phone back over and unmuting Han. When he notices you're back, he says nothing, fiddling with the string on the hoodie he wears.

"You-"

"It's okay-" You speak at the same time and laugh, breaking the newfound tension. He continues. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I guess this is what you meant by complicated?"

You pout, eyes beginning to sting. When you speak, your voice breaks a little. "Yeah, I mean, it's hard, you know? All my life I've been compared to Hyo by my mother and teachers and even my friends. Like, I have to be her instead of myself, and she never once stepped in to protect me from all that like a big sister is supposed to. Never heard her stand up for me when it was happening right in front of her, no moment of 'hey, let my little sister be who she wants, you already have one of me'. I feel like I can't talk to her anymore. I'm rambling, sorry."

"No, it's okay," Han reassures you.

"We used to be close when we were young," you speak into the space he's left you. "Then as we got older, we drifted. We're only a few years apart, but she always acted so much better than me once we hit a certain age. She said hurtful things to me a lot, and I'm sure I said equally awful things back." A tear falls onto your blanket and you sniff, looking up to your ceiling where a poster of a boy band is pinned to prevent more from falling. "I want my sister back, but... I think there's too much pain."

"Oh Y/nnie," Han gives you a sad look. "I wish I could hug you right now."

"I'm just saying stupid stuff now, I should sleep." You've overshared and want out of this conversation ASAP. "Goodnight Han, sleep well."

He's about to protest when you hang up, moving your phone next to the frame to charge. For a while you lay there, staring at your ceiling with a heavy weight on your chest. You've never fully talked to someone about the way your upbringing made you feel or the way it still affects you. There's still a scared little girl inside of you, shying away from hands that want to hold you, comfort you. Because what if it's all a lie? What if they all leave you, like Hwa? Or like... like him?

You glance over to the frame again, not having it in you to flip it back up.

notes -> me vs y/ns mother rn- who do we think this "him" is referring to? and what happened? will hyunjin and y/n make up?

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15 @splat00z

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

#-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143 #stray kids smau #skz smau #non idol au #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee know smau #lee minho smau #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x fem reader #lee minho x fem reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #smau #social media au

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mingi-s-dimples · 3 months ago

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weird request..? ( kinda ) it’s me lis😚 i love your work bia and i really REALLY want a demon hongjoong fic 🪦 maybe add some praising and choking kink as well…🤭🤭 i recently saw a picture of him that added to the “joong demon agenda” AND OH BOY 🫠🫠 love you 😚❤️

Crimson Nights - Hongjoong

REQUEST BY: @mingleshine (or how y'all might know her, my lovely Lis) she also made the banner 😋😋 had to use it for my love.

pairing: demon/incubus!hongjoong x fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: romance, demon x human, love not necessarily filth (but a little bit cause I love writing filth hihi)

summary: the sillhouette you've always been dreaming and painting about finally finds it's way in your room, giving you what you've been longing for.

WC: 3.5k

warnings: demon au, incubus!hongjoong x human fem!reader, choking kink, neck marking, marking, a sprinkle of praise, pet names (sweetie, darling, princess), ramming (if this is even a warning), hard deep and needy longing love (joong appeared in reader's dreams for years), choking, huge dick!hongjoong, slight belly bulging (he was a big guy hihi), eyes glistering with lust and changing as soon as they're finished, sharp nails (said marking + hickeys), biting, a little bit of cnc maybe from his perspective reader was all down for it, possesiveness, claiming reader (you/re mine/I already claimed you), completely consesual, unprotected (WRAP UP IRL!), slapping/spanking, orgasms (both m&f), fluff (if you squint but I promise there is fluff cause wdym Hongjoong has waited years for reader to be ready to invite him in her world and how he talks to her at the end ansadka I'm blushing), probably forgot something !

Author's Note: I loved writing this one. The description in the beginning made me absolutely looooooooooooooooooove writing this fic, I've always loved to describe nice, vintage/retro like things/rooms. Tysm love for the request andddd can't wait for another one from you hihi <3 love you always, enjoy this one ^^ also I love when u call me bia it makes something in me go insane nshdajkndsma

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The room was a sanctuary of warmth and color, tucked away in an old manor where the whispers of time lingered in the wooden beams. As you stepped inside, the scent of aged wood and crackling fire filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of dried leaves that had drifted in through the slightly open window. The walls were adorned with paintings of every size, each one a vivid portrayal of autumn’s embrace. Rich hues of amber, gold, and crimson spilled from the canvases, capturing scenes of forests bathed in the gentle light of a setting sun, of fields where goldenrod swayed in the cool breeze, and of paths carpeted in a mosaic of fallen leaves.

The floor, covered in a thick, russet-hued rug, creaked softly underfoot, adding to the room’s rustic charm. A grand oak table sat in the center, its surface cluttered with brushes, palettes, and jars of paint that seemed to mirror the fiery shades of the season. On a nearby easel, a half-finished painting depicted a lone maple tree, its leaves a brilliant cascade of oranges and reds against the backdrop of a fading twilight sky.

Outside, the trees rustled softly in the wind, their branches bare save for a few stubborn leaves clinging to their last moments of life. The windowpanes rattled gently, as if echoing the sighs of the season, and through them, the distant cry of a flock of geese could be heard, their silhouettes barely visible against the dusky horizon. The room, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamp, seemed to pulse with the rhythm of autumn itself, a place where the beauty of the season was captured and eternalized within the frames on the walls.

You’ve been having some weird dreams lately. The dreams were always drenched in shadows, where reality blurred and the world seemed suspended between night and twilight. In them, you found yourself standing in a vast, moonlit field, where the air was thick with an unspoken tension. The only light came from a ghostly crescent moon, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the landscape. It was in these shadows that you first saw him — a silhouette against the silver light, imposing, with a presence that sent a shiver down your spine and yet held your gaze captive.

He was not like any man you had ever seen. His form was humanoid but dark, almost as if he were carved from the very night itself. Yet, it was his eyes—those glowing embers hidden within the depths of shadow—that drew you in. They were the color of molten gold, burning with an intensity that made your heart race, eyes that seemed to see right through you, into the deepest corners of your soul.

Despite his demonic appearance, you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a magnetic force that defied all logic. Each night, the dreams grew more vivid, more intense. You would find yourself standing just a breath away from him, feeling the heat of his presence and the chill of the night air against your skin. His gaze would meet yours, holding you in place, and in that moment, you felt a strange mix of fear and desire. It was as if his eyes were speaking to you, whispering promises of secrets untold, of passions that could only exist in the world of dreams.

Sometimes, you could hear his voice—a deep, resonant sound that echoed in the silence, filled with both menace and allure. He would reach out, his hand almost touching you, but the dream would always end before you had made contact, leaving you waking with a longing you couldn’t quite understand. The sensation of his gaze lingered among you, haunting your waking hours, making you yearn for the night when she would see him again.

In these dreams, you were not afraid. The darkness did not frighten you, nor did his otherworldly form. Instead, you felt drawn into the mystery, consumed by the curiosity of who he was and why you felt such a strong connection to him. Each night you slipped into the sheets, so willingly, eager to return to that shadowy place where the lines between fear and desire blurred, and where you felt more alive than you ever did in the daylight.

The air in the room was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavy. You stood in the center of the old, dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows that danced on the walls. The atmosphere was charged with an electric tension, a sensation you knew all too well from your dreams.

You had been here before—in those haunting visions that gripped you in the dead of night, where the lines between fear and desire blurred into something irresistible. But tonight was different. This time, you were awake. This time, it was real.

The temperature dropped suddenly, and a shiver ran down your spine. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to coalesce, gathering into a single point of darkness that deepened until it was almost tangible. Your breath hitched as the air hummed with an otherworldly energy. The shadows twisted, taking form, and your heart pounded in your chest as you watched.

Slowly, he emerged from the darkness—a figure of impossible beauty and terrifying power. His skin was pale, almost luminescent against the darkness, and his eyes glowed with a deep, unnatural fire. They were the eyes that had haunted you in your sleep, eyes that saw through you, into you, but you yet had a desire to meet him. His presence filling the room, cloaked in darkness that seemed to cling to him like a living thing.

His lips curled into a knowing smile, one that sent a jolt of both fear and longing through you. It was the smile that had always made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something thrilling. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a low, velvety rumble that seemed to reverberate through your very bones.

"So, we meet at last," he said, his tone laced with a dark amusement. "You've been dreaming of meeting me, haven't you?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. It was as if the reality of his presence had stolen your voice, leaving you with nothing but the rapid beating of your heart and the heat that flushed your skin.

He stepped closer, his movements fluid, almost serpentine. Every step he took seemed to pull you in, your body betraying you as it leaned towards him, yearning for the touch you knew would burn but also ignite something within you.

"You've been calling out to me, every night," he continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now, here I am."

He was close enough now that you could feel the cold radiating from him, mingling with the warmth of your own body. The scent of him was intoxicating, a mix of something dark and forbidden, like smoke and spices you couldn't name. It made your head dizzy, your thoughts tangling with desire and dread.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and the contact sent a shockwave through you. His touch was cold, but it sparked something deep within, a fire that you had only ever felt in your dreams. It was a sensation that bordered on pain, but also pleasure—a perfect, terrifying balance.

"Why do you fear me?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "I am what you desire most, am I not?"

You swallowed hard, finally finding your voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. "Who are you?"

His smile widened, a flash of sharp teeth that should have frightened you, but instead, it only made your heart race faster. "I am everything you've ever feared, everything you've ever wanted. I am the darkness in your soul, the fire in your blood. I am yours."

The words wrapped around you like a spell, binding you to him in a way that felt both inevitable and inescapable. You knew, deep down, that this was what you had been searching for, what your soul had been yearning for in those lonely, desperate moments between sleep and wakefulness.

“W-what’s your name?” you said, your head dizzy from what he made you feel deep inside you.

“I’m Hongjoong.. nice to meet you, princess.”

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but a breath, a heartbeat. His eyes burned into yours, and you felt yourself falling into them, into him, as if you had always belonged there.

"You have nothing to fear," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours, close enough to feel their coolness. "We are one, you and I. And now, you will never be alone again."

As his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to fade, dissolving into darkness. All that remained was the heat of his kiss, the cold fire of his touch, and the knowledge that you had finally found what you had been seeking all along—him.

He stopped kissing you, a heady silence falling between, thick with the weight of what was about to happen. His hands, cold yet searing with an undeniable heat, trailed down your neck with a slow, deliberate touch, making you shiver. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. You could feel the pull, the magnetic force drawing you closer, deeper into him, and you knew there was no escape—only surrender.

With a fluid, almost predatory grace, he lowered you onto the bed. The mattress yielded under your weight, and the cool sheets sent a shiver through your body. He hovered over you, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never wavering from yours as he gently eased you down, guiding your back to the softness beneath. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of darkness and desire.

His lips found your throat, pressing soft, lingering kisses that ignited every nerve in your body. The sensation was intoxicating, a mixture of warmth and cold that made your skin tingle with anticipation. His kisses were like whispers against your flesh, trailing down to your collarbone, each touch a promise of more to come. His sharp teeth, grasping your skin, receiving some whines out of you.

You gasped as his hands slid under the fabric of your shirt, his fingers cool against the heated skin of your waist. His touch was slow, sensual, exploring every inch of you as if committing your body to memory. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice like velvet, dark and rich. “The way your body responds to mine? The way you tremble under my touch?”

His lips traced the curve of your shoulder, then continued their journey downward, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His fingers followed, brushing against your sides, your hips, as he moved lower. He was taking his time, savoring every moment, every reaction you gave him.

When his lips reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. There was a question in his eyes, one that didn’t need to be spoken aloud, and your answer was in the way you arched your back, pressing your body into his touch, craving more. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pulled your shirt higher, exposing more of your skin to the cool air.

He kissed along your stomach, his lips lingering on every inch of bare flesh he uncovered, each kiss sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His hands were everywhere, caressing, teasing, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he continued his exploration. The sound seemed to please him, a dark glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he looked up at you from beneath his lashes.

His mouth moved lower, his kisses growing more insistent, more demanding, and you could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter with each passing second. His touch was like a drug, addicting, overwhelming, and you were helpless to do anything but give in to the sensations he was pulling from you.

When he finally moved back up to capture your lips again, it was with a hunger that took your breath away. His kiss was deep, consuming, as if he was trying to devour every part of you, to claim you as his own. You could taste the darkness on his lips, the promise of something forbidden, something you had craved in your dreams but had never fully understood until now.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the small space between you. “You are mine,” he whispered, the words more a declaration than a question. “Every part of you, every breath, every heartbeat. Mine.”

And as he kissed you again, slow and deep, you knew that he was right. There was no turning back, no escape. You were his, body and soul, and the thought of it sent a thrill through you that was equal parts fear and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, as his lips found every sensitive spot on your skin, you surrendered completely to the darkness, to him, knowing that you were lost and yet finally found.

Your hands found their way through his hair, rubbing the nape of his neck. He took that as a challenge and as one of his hands was travelling around your body, all touchy on your thighs and waist, the other one went for your neck, putting pressure, almost like choking you. It only made you yearn for more as you squirmed under him, his gaze never leaving your needy eyes.

“I can see it in your eyes, princess. How much you want me, how much you need me. Do you want me to let you give in or… will you let me make you mine?” he said as he pressed down on your neck, hovering his lips over your collarbones, leaving soft, sloppy kisses, waiting for your response.

But as you didn’t say anything, only moving underneath him, in wish of some friction, he understood your movements and manhandled you on your back, pressing your face into the mattress.

“See, darling? Your body language is everything to me. The way it speaks to me… in no way you’d be able to portray by words” he whispered, his eyes glistening with lust and desire, eating you as a whole.

“Joong- i- “ you mumbled, trying to get ahold of yourself, his dick struggling inside the rough fabric of the leather jeans, creating a prominent tent. All of this mess caused by you and your little dreams formed a loop of stroking his cock for a few seconds before rubbing his thigh up and down, all through the tightening cloth.

His calm, yet lustful, twisted expression gave you an understanding on how much he wanted you, how bad he craved putting you on all fours, head buried in the mattress, holding your hands and pounding into you like the demon he was.

Trembling hands gripping the silk sheets, your bottom lip quivered involuntarily as breathless pants left your mouth, Hongjoong behind you, squeezing and occasionally slapping your ass. It was already red… at how much he fondled with it.

“So… should I.. finally claim you, princess?” he said as he turned you over to face him. He started undressing you, slowly but surely getting rid of everything. You were now laying bare in front of him, goosebumps visible on your entire body from the cold yet inviting touch he had.

He pulled you into him by your waist, making you gasp once you felt his hard erection press against your thigh. "Feel that, princess? Gonna fill you up nicely" he whispered, his breath stuttering against your face, like he was a feral animal wanting to destroy you.

As he unbuckled his leather pants and got rid of them, unveiling his already dripping cock, you were left amazed by the size. You expected.. the size.. cause he was a demon, after all, but...

"Oh, fuck" you exhaled when he went between your thighs, his red angry tip pressing and slowly moving up and down on your folds.

"You good, darling? he grunted as he pushed himself inside you, no warning. You softly moaned at the sensation, but as you realised he put only his tip in, you braced yourself on the mattress and when he pushed himself just a little bit more, you whined and tears started forming at the corner of your eyes. As he wiped them soflty, he let you adjust to his size but you never quite completely did.

Pain and pleasure hovered over you, heavy mist in the air and breathing. He lifted you up, still bouncing slowly on his cock, holding you close to his chest. It was it you were making love to your demon.. this was exactly what was happening. Slow, lustful, desireful thrusts, moves and touches, soft kisses from your neck to your collarbones, sucking dark spots on your fair soft skin.

You suddenly moved and twitched as he bottomed down, to which he pushed you down even further, feeling how a small bulge was forming in your belly, almost visible.

"Princess, stop moving. I might actually hurt you if you move without warning" he said as he dug his sharp nails into the flesh of your waist, leaving soft bleeding marks on your skin. You whined at the pain but damn... it turned you on so bad, arousal dripping on his balls, from below you as you bounced on him more forcefully, not caring about the pain anymore, which had turned into utmost pleasure.

Hongjoong was all touchy with you, he was like this... maybe because he was longing you how much you were longing to meet him? All of these years you've seen him in your dreams... all of the paintings and stories you've made up of him, all because you wanted to meet the mysterious entity in your dream and... you were over the moon for him. How he fucked you so good, how he took you under his influence, his voice, his fangs, as he dug them suddenly in your neck, getting soft choked moans out of your rapidly rising chest.

Only sloppy sounds could be heard from between the two of you, soft and slow stuttering moves, arching your back with every thrust of his. It's true.. he was basically ramming into you, feeling like he could destroy your insides any moment. But at the same time.. there was some kind of slowness, caring to it, deeply pounding into you but making sure you slowly take every single inch of his length, while he gave you soft kisses. One of his hands found it's way to your breasts, playing with your nipple as he received a whine out of you. You were already close, your head getting dizzier, cloudy with the thought of the dirty things you've done with your... demon.

His hands all over your back, leaving scratches and his lips leaving spots on your skin. This is how fucked up you were.. but you were close to finishing, and as he rammed into you a couple of more times and felt how your core bursted, you creamed on his cock, leaving out moans and cries of arousal, tears falling down your cheeks. He fucked you through your orgasm, overstimulating you. He later came inside your aching and throbbing pussy, slowing down his thrusts and then finally comming to a stop.

"Such a good girl you are... such a good girl for me. Is that right?" he whispered.

Both of your fluids were dripping down your legs and on his thighs as he let you fall slowly on the ruined bed sheets. He could feel... even smell how your blood boiled for him, how aroused you were.

"Everything good, darling?" he said as he wiped down your tears, rubbing your trembling thighs slowly. "Mhm? Are you feeling okay?"

"Uh, yes, Joong. It was incredible... " you said and he gave you a kiss on your forehead.

"You know.. y/n. I've been longing for this moment... for years. Ever since I first appeared in your dreams... but I had to wait until you finally wanted it to happen. Now I'm here, sweetie. I'm here.. I'll stay here forever. You're mine and I'm yours.. remember?" his eyes changed colours, from a deep red that appeared when he pushed you on the bed... to a soft hazel-like colour.

"You can't escape my grip anyways. I already claimed you before inviting me in your life..." he said and hugged you thightly.

"Hongjoong... I've always wanted to meet you.. the mysterious entity haunting, appearing in my dreams. I was so eager to meet that sillhouette... you won't ever understand." you said and gave in, curling up into a ball in his grip.

"Don't worry.. I'm here and I won't ever leave, as I said" he reassured you, stroking your hair slowly and biting your neck again, marking his terittory once again for the night.

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #smut fic #ateez fic #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x y/n #fanfic #smut #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #demon au #incubus au

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msgexymunson · 1 year ago

Text

Forbidden Fruit Part 5

Description: the situation has come to a head, and you prepare to run off into the sunset with Eddie. But, will you be able to come back?

A/N: so, this 'one shot' turned into a 5 part freakin' torrid romance! Thank you guys for the support! This is the final part, I hope you enjoy it. Remember, I live for your reblogs and comments, I need them like Tinkerbell needs claps.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Minors DNI this ain't for you! Dom Eddie, Fem reader, age gap, reader 21 Eddie early 40s, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (that's how you make babies) anal (that's NOT how you make babies), eloping, spit play, like one spank, parental confrontations, angst with happy ending.

7.5k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Is this even happening right now?

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the figure in front of you. He looks frantic, eyes wide and a little wild, hairs flying free from the low bun on his head. The mark your father gifted him has blossomed on his eye; it's a little swollen, glowing with a flesh flower of purple and yellow.

"How did you even get in-"

"Oh, your Dad forgot he gave me a spare key. I saw your mom leave. I've been waiting for days, your house has been like fuckin' Alcatraz."

You nod, fully aware of how crazy it's gotten.

"Eddie… Vegas?" You say, reaching for his face with a soft touch. Wincing, he holds your hand with his, enveloping it as he brushes his lips against your fingers sending a shiver up your spine.

"Listen. The weekend we had, all I could think was that I wanted it to be real. Every time I heard Mr and Mrs Munson, it fucking hurt." He looks away briefly; it's like this is difficult to admit. You wait patiently, hand still in his.

"I- I love you sweetheart." Gaze back on yours, his eyes are soft and glassy.

"I love you too, so much. But Eddie, you still haven't said. Vegas?" Prompting again, your heart in your throat, airway constricted with feelings. You know what he's saying, but you want him to say it. You need him to say it.

"I wanna marry you sweetheart. I want… no, I need to wake up with you every day, in my arms. If you'll have me?" Large hands find your waist, holding you in front of him as you look into his bourbon whiskey eyes.

"Yes. I'll have you." Grinning like an idiot, you wrap your arms around his neck, the gesture so natural and right it brings tears to your eyes. The kiss you share is soft, but brief.

"As much as I want to just hold you right now, we need to go, in case you're widowed before we even get hitched." He's chuckling, but the edge of nerves is prominent in his voice.

"OK, gimme like five minutes."

Never has a duffel bag been filled so fast. Clothes, underwear, shoes, toothbrush; you're not even sure what you've packed, but the bag is full, so that will have to do. Eddie grabs the bag as if it's weightless and throws it on his shoulder, ushering you out with his hand on the small of your back.

"Wait, I need to leave a note at least, otherwise he might call the police or something."

He might anyway, he's lost it.

You scribble down that you've gone on a trip and you'll be back, so you can all talk about this like adults. That last part is underlined. Signing your name, you both hustle out of your house and into Eddie's waiting truck.

As he drives away, the magnitude of what you're doing truly hits you. Is this what you want? You and Eddie, Mr and Mrs Munson, until death do you part?

You steal a glance at Eddie whilst he's driving. His strong jaw, the spackling of day old stubble, his serious concentration face he wears when he's driving. Any doubts you have melt, disintegrating into those beautiful eyes. He's the one. He's always been the one.

********************

Sunlight is dwindling, fading over the horizon slowly as you pull into a motel car park for the night. The room is… well, it's there. A bed and a bathroom, fitted with outdated decor that would look more at home in the 70's, including the lumpy mattress. It will do for now, merely a pit stop on the road.

Flumping down onto the ancient mattress, a dust cloud fluffing up, you stretch your arms towards Eddie, making grabby hands at him.

He laughs, dumping your bags before dramatically falling on top of you with all his weight.

"Eddie, I'm dying…" you croak out in a feigned weak voice, shutting your eyes and allowing your tongue to loll out of your mouth.

The drama is short lived however, as he runs the tip of his tongue over yours.

"Eddie!" You admonish, "I'm trying to die here, stop making it sexy!"

"Sweetheart, I can't help what turns you on." Smirking, he lands sloppy kisses on your mouth, all wet spit and smacking noises.

"Baby, you animal, can we eat first?"

"I was planning to." The kisses turn sultry, lips and nips trace up to your earlobe, sucking the skin in the way he knows you love.

"Eddie…" a warning tone, but there's an obvious lack of bite.

"OK, food. Gotcha." He's off you then, bouncing to his feet, leaving you breathing hard and heavy on the bed.

Eddie knows. The grin he's wearing is sinful, but for once he doesn't tease you. All he does is grab leaflets for nearby places and gets you to choose. Settling on a nearby pizza place, a gentle kiss is perched on your forehead as he leaves to get your order.

The grime that had gathered on you for the last few days is getting to you, so you take a long shower whilst he's gone. At the very least, the showers are hot. Basking under the steaming water, you rinse the dirt away and grab a less than fluffy towel from the rack, drying off.

You slip on the silk robe you managed to bring and sit cross legged on the bed just in time to see Eddie hustle through the door.

Eddie makes it inside, shutting the door behind him, moving with purpose. Until he sees you, that is. He staggers back dramatically then, as if he's about to faint.

"Sweetheart, you expect me to eat whilst you're in that robe? How can I concentrate on food with you looking hotter than sin?"

You smirk, tying it tighter around your body, perky nipples creating peaks in the fabric.

"Give me my pizza and then you can have what you want."

"Oh… might have to hold you to that" He smirks, passing you the take out boxes.

You both sit and eat, drinking a couple of beers between you. The pizza is soon demolished and you lie back in lumpy pillows, sated and content.

"So…do I get my dessert now? Please?"

Eddie's raking over your form with hungry eyes, mentally stripping you bare of clothes with just one heated glance. A nod and he's on you, sucking a bruise so hard in your neck you fear it might be permanent.

As he starts to run his tongue down your throat, you push him off with a little force that shocks him completely.

"What's wrong? You OK?" He asks as he pulls away, deeply concerned by your actions.

"We're getting married right? I forgot, I need something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue!"

"Really?" He chuckles, looking at your panicked eyes, "right now?"

"Yes! I mean, it's bad luck, isn't it? What if we get there and I don't have them, or what if-"

"Stop. Just breathe sweetheart." His soulful eyes drill into yours, finding the calm and bringing it to the surface. You take a deep breath and squeeze his hands with yours.

"OK. I mean, I've got something old, my birthstone ring, had it for as long as I can remember." As you speak you flash your hand at him, indicating the tiny band with the small sparkling stone set in it.

Eddie plants a kiss over the top of it, setting your insides on fire.

"Right, one down. As for something borrowed, you can always borrow this."

He takes a small unassuming ring off his finger. It doesn't sit well with the rest, tarnished and old looking; what looks like a mood stone is set in the centre. Wordlessly he hands it to you.

Turning it over in your hands, you look up at him with glistening eyes.

"It was my moms."

"It's really pretty."

"So was she."

Seems that's all the information he's willing to give. You try it on a couple of fingers before you settle on your thumb.

"Hmm, tiny hands" He laughs, rubbing your palms with his thumbs.

"So, what about-"

"Listen. I was gonna wait for this, but if you need this now…"

He gets up, striding toward his abandoned leather jacket and fishes around for a moment. Then, he's back, a small black ring box in his hand.

"I was gonna do this in Vegas but-"

Flipping it open, you see a dainty ring inside. A beautifully cut diamond nestled in the centre, surrounded by what appears to be a ring of rubies, set in a thin white gold band.

"Eddie, what the- when?" You ask, a lump forming in your throat, constricting it with emotion.

"The day after my little confession. It was wild I know, I thought I might have a chance to talk to you, talk to your dad, but he lost it and I… I panicked." He shrugs, like buying some expensive engagement ring is normal behaviour.

"Eddie…" words escape you momentarily as you stare dumbfounded at Eddie.

"Do you like it?"

"Do I like it? It's like you pulled it out of my brain, it's gorgeous!"

Eddie grins massively, slipping the ring out of the box and sliding it gently onto your ring finger. Surprisingly, it fits. Turning your hand this way and that, you watch the stones glimmer in the lamp light. Words cannot express the feelings churning through you as you watch the light refract from the diamond.

"Eddie its too much-"

"Nope. Not having it. It's for you, if anything it's not enough. You deserve, like- a herd of ponies and a private island or something."

You laugh loudly, sheer joy overrunning all senses as you stare at the ring.

"So, you wanna tell me what this is really about sweetheart?"

"Huh?" You tear your eyes away from the sparkling rock and look him in the eyes.

"Come here." He says, patting his thigh.

You swing your legs over him, thighs sitting side saddle against his muscular jean clad legs. Immediately he grabs the back of your neck, his other hand stroking at the inside of your knee. Face forced to look at him, you can't escape the serious look in his eye.

He continues, "what is this about? You having doubts about this, 'bout us?"

Shock widens your eyes.

"No! Not at all, it's just… well it's silly."

His look softens as he begins to stroke your inner thigh. "No it isn't, not if you're worried. What is it?"

His hands are all consuming, filling your senses with nothing but his touch.

"It's just… I'm a student. I'm not earning any money. And after that, I've got more training so I can be a teacher. I don't want you to have to… I dunno, provide for me I suppose." Your eyes dip downwards, almost ashamed of your own deepest thoughts.

"Hey. Look at me, my good girl."

Your body won't let you disobey the command in his voice, no matter how soft it is. Your eyes flash up to meet his in an instant.

"I want this. I want you, and everything that means." His hand on your leg traces higher, whispering over the soft skin and dipping unseen, but not unfelt, underneath your robe.

"I know you're still getting your qualifications and that's fine. I've got a big house sweetheart, two cars, hell I own the mechanic shop outright. I've got more money than I know what to do with."

His hand trails even higher, rough fingertips grazing your slit making you gasp. Running his fingers up and down your folds gently, gathering seeping wetness, he continues.

"The only thing I'm missing- is you. I can't stop thinking about you being mine, my partner, my wife. I'll pay for your schooling if I have to, I don't care. I need you in my life."

"Eddie… I don't know what to say. Do- do you mean it?" You ask, eyes glossing over.

"Sweetheart, I've never been more serious in all my life."

His middle finger breaches your entrance then, just enough for you to feel it and start clenching. It's toying with you almost, just up to the first knuckle.

"So, you still want me, sweetheart?"

"O-oh of course- oh fuck!"

He plunges two thick fingers deep inside you suddenly, pulling a needy howl from you at the unexpected pressure. Plunging them in and out of your wet heat he continues to hold your neck in place, keeping you staring at him.

"Keep looking at me. I need to see you come. Can you do that? Can you come for me sweetheart?"

You whine in response, a shake working its way over your skin and outstretching into the air around you, the room practically humming in anticipation.

"I asked a question…" his voice is lilting, as if amused. His fingers keep his persistent drilling into your soaked cunt, the squelching noise echoing through the trashy room.

"Y-yes Eddie" you respond, a whisper, a shadow of a promise.

"That's my girl."

The relentless pounding of his digits into your sodden pussy continue, unrelenting. You wail, convulsing almost, your slick heat contracting around his fingers hard as a ring of your creamy wetness circles them.

Pressure mounts in your abdomen, the force pressing on your belly in waves. Eyes flutter shut briefly until Eddie's grasp on the back of your neck borders pain. They snap back open.

"Eyes on me sweetheart."

His gaze on you is unwavering, staring straight at you and into your soul.

"You gonna come for me my girl? My beautiful, dirty girl? You look so pretty when you come."

His words push you over the edge, striking straight at your cunt. You fall apart on his command, the magnitude of your release shaking your limbs. You're only dimly aware of the impossibly loud squelching sound that keeps going as he works you through your orgasm.

As the stars start finally clearing from your vision you stare back at him gormlessly.

Eddie finally removes his fingers from your core and shows his shining hand to you.

"Soaked me sweetheart. Pretty sure you've ruined my jeans."

Swinging your legs away from his lap you see the full extent of your release. The dark patch on his jeans is surprisingly large, absolutely drenched with your cum.

"Fuck, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologise. That's hot as hell. Now, take my pants off for me sweetheart."

Quirking an eyebrow at his request, you still oblige, unhooking the belt and shimmying his jeans off of his taut frame. You notice, with a flash of embarrassment, that your release has even soaked through to his boxers, leaving a damp patch on one side. Removing those too and flinging them away, you gawp at his rock hard length. Every time you see it, you think it's not going to fit, even though you have literal evidence to the contrary.

"What now, Mr Munson?" You jokingly ask, mischief lacing your words.

"Hmmm" He hums deeply, eyes impossibly dark, "so polite. I want you to ride me a little. I want to see that sexy body of yours bouncing in my lap. Think you can do that for me sweetheart?"

You're nodding enthusiastically before you realise, slipping your silk robe off to join his bundle of clothes.

Straddling him, you tease him just a little, your soaking lips dragging across his hardened length. Almost expecting him to admonish you for your bating movements, you stare into his eyes. Oh, he just looks amused, lips pulled into a playful half smirk. A look you have seen before, many times, which makes you realise that you were really in for it.

Petulantly you tug at the hem off his shirt and give him a childish pout. "Off."

"As you wish." The grin remains as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it into the void.

Stunned by his body for a second, you run your fingertips over muscles, tattoos and chest hairs, feeling him tighten under your ministrations.

Enough teasing, you need him now.

Holding his throbbing member with one hand, you line him up and slowly sink down until you're sitting flush on his lap. A mutual groan flies out of both of your lips; the feeling of him filling you completely, unsure where one ends and the other begins, is simply otherworldly. If you could bottle it you could make a fucking fortune.

Eddie's hands grasp you firmly by the hips, dragging you forcibly up and down his staggering length. You do your best to keep up, using your thighs and your hands on his chest as leverage, but he is relentless today. Before you realise it, your head is lolling to one side, bones in your neck a distant memory. You can't think, only feel.

Eddie knows.

"Aw, sweetheart, fucked dumb already huh?" He asks, mocking words dripping from his tongue like bitter sweet honey.

"I- I can't" are the only words you can manage, his unbroken pounding into you filling your entire being.

"Shouldn't tease me so much then," he half laughs, and sits up, climbing to his knees to flip you backwards onto the bed. His arm hooks underneath your knee to bring it close to your chest as his powerful thrusts continue.

"Holy shit, Eddie!" You squeal, cunt clamping around him hard.

"My sweetheart gonna come again? That's it baby," his words are soft, juxtaposed against his ruthless drives into your sodden heat.

You clench even harder if that were possible, fingers winding into his hair and pulling hard. Eddie grunts in satisfaction at the gesture as he bites his lip. His pleasured face pushes you over the edge, falling into the deepest depths of your orgasm, moaning your release to the heavens.

"What a fucking good girl" He groans, releasing your leg so he can grab both of your hands, holding them above your head as he pumps out his release deep inside. You feel the throb of it which gives you that extra wave of pleasure.

Lips crash into each other, arms pulling tight, the need to be closer palpable.

You're kissing, and kissing, until an unexpected ringing brings you both out of your post sex daze.

Is it the phone in the room? Who knows you're here? Panic sets itself deep behind your eyes. Maybe your parents had tracked you down?

Eddie must sense your unease as he shushes you gently, planting a soft kiss to your forehead which helps release some of your tension.

He gets up, pads naked over to the phone and picks it up as you tug the bedsheet around you.

"Hello?"

You hear the scratchy sound of a shitty phone line, no real words, just noise. Eddie starts smirking bizarrely, twisting the cord with one finger.

"Of course. We'll keep it down. Sorry."

Replacing the receiver with a click his grin spreads further as he looks at you.

"Reception said they had two noise complaints, and asked us to be a little quieter."

"Oh my God." Your cheeks flush with heat as you pull the blanket higher up to hide, only your eyes and the top of your head visible.

"Don't be embarrassed." He says, laughing.

"Easy for you to say, you're proud of yourself!"

He pulls the cover down to get at your mouth, kissing you softly, and breathes the words on your cheek.

"Yeah, maybe a little."

Giggling, you slap his arm and he pulls you in for a squeeze of a hug, strong arms pinning yours to the side.

"Hey, I've got a young, hot fiancée, I'm allowed to be a little cocky."

********************

The first thing you noticed about Vegas was the noise. It was early afternoon but the place was a bustling hive of activity; loud chatting groups of excited tourists mingled with the cries of people pushing pamphlets and coupons into their hands. The dings and crashes and tinny music blaring from casinos, along with the honks of car horns and engines, and the weird and wonderful racket of street performers all blended into an overwhelming cacophony which filled your brain like some sort of drug. You could understand how people could get lost in the pull of it; hours, days passing in a place that never sleeps.

The hotel you were staying in was at least better than the motel, but it was still a little… odd. Only dumping bags and running you had little time to take in your surroundings, but what you did see made you laugh. There was an actual stuffed tiger in the lobby, along with several pieces of erotic art. The weirdness didn't stop there; the massive mirror over the circular bed in your room piqued your interest, as well as the sparkly wallpaper and fake zebra skins on the floor. Not that any of it mattered. You and Eddie were getting married, and that was at the forefront of your mind the whole time.

Mr and Mrs Munson. Mr and Mrs Munson.

Stupid things were making you panic. You needed to practise your new signature. You would have to change your passport. Why your brain was focusing on the craziest things, you had no idea. Chalking it up to pre wedding jitters, you walk arm in arm with your future husband, eyes seeking out the next goal: a wedding dress.

A glitzy store with full glass frontage and brass fixtures caught your eye, and you stopped to look at the dresses in the window. It wasn't a bridal boutique by any means, but the gowns in the window were more tasteful than any you had walked past in the hour or so you'd been searching.

"This, this is the place." You halt in front of the shop, squeezing Eddie's hand.

"OK, let's go."

"No." You say forcefully, placing your palm on his chest. He looks at you confused, and a little hurt, but doesn't say a word.

"You can't see it, it's bad luck!" You explain as his features give way to a smile.

"Fine, you win. I'll find a Chapel. Anything I should know before I do?" He asks, cocking his head with the question.

"Yes. Please, no fat Elvis impersonators. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face."

"You sure? Don't wanna be married by The King?"

Your scrunched up face makes Eddie laugh, throwing his head back. "OK, I get that. I'll find somewhere… tasteful. Well, I'll try to." He smirks, placing a card in your hands.

"What's this?"

"My credit card. Go nuts sweetheart."

A lump firms in your throat at the level of trust. Despite that, it just doesn't feel right.

"Eddie, I can't accept this."

"You don't have a choice. Just take it, I'll feel better knowing you ain't counting pennies. Honestly, it's cool. This way you can get what you want."

Shoulders slumping in defeat, you give in, accepting the card and slipping it into your pocket.

"Now, wait for me here. I don't wanna lose you."

He plants a kiss on your forehead and walks off.

Inside the shop, you know Eddie giving you his credit card was the right choice. It even smells expensive. The woman waiting for customers greets you with an enormous smile, and you explain what you are looking for. After a little search and a try on, you leave the shop with your dress, new shoes, and even a small veil from another place the store sent out for. You were ready.

Eddie finds you twenty minutes later, with a love sick grin on his face.

"I found somewhere, I think you'll like it. So, you find what you need?"

"Yeah, I'm good" You smile back, handing him his card.

"You can keep hold of it sweetheart."

"Nooooo" you say with feeling, forcing it into his hand, "that's just fucking dangerous."

He laughs and takes your hand in his, ushering you into a waiting taxi.

The cab pulls up to an unassuming building, pastel pink stucco covering the outside, along with a tiny steeple and fake bell. Taking a deep breath, you walk in, Eddie's hand firmly in the small of your back to guide you. At this point, you'd let him guide you anywhere.

They know you are coming, the smiling ladies at the desk, and one of them leaps up in a cloud of perfume and blonde hair, leading you away immediately.

"Heard all about you, so lovely to meet you! We've got somewhere for you to change, just come with me!"

She introduces herself as Brenda, and leads you to a tiny back room with a full length mirror and a clothes rail and insists on helping you with your dress. She's talking a mile a minute, helping you to calm your nerves.

"Oh he is handsome isn't he! And you are just lovely, I can see why he likes you. And the way he looks at you! Oh it's just so lovely. Let me help you with the zip honey. Oh, aren't you just a vision! Do a twirl, that's it, just perfect! You ready?"

Am I ready?

You stare at your reflection; the last time you'll look at yourself single. Butterflies dance in your belly, but searching your feelings you know it's excitement and not nerves. You want this; you can feel deep in your soul that this is the right decision. Staring down at your engagement ring, your birthstone ring, and his mother's ring on your thumb on the other hand, you smile.

"I'm ready."

With a final spritz of perfume at your retreating back, Brenda waves you off and you walk into the room where you will marry the love of your life.

The wedding march plays on a creaky organ as you walk down the short aisle.

As your gaze lands on Eddie, your heart beats in your throat. He's wearing that tailored suit of his, but a white shirt now hugs his torso. No tie, as you could have predicted, but a sprig of cornflowers is tucked into his suit jacket pocket.

Something blue.

It makes you smile, and cements the fact that this is right. He couldn't have known you'd pick a blue dress for the same reason, but here you were, matching.

Your beautiful satin gown mirrored the powder blue in the flower, flared slightly at the waist to sit gently on your knee. The tasteful neckline scooped, sitting at your chest with an elegant fold. You had blue paper flowers interwoven in your hair, with a net veil tucked backwards away from your face.

Your eyes never left him for a second. Vision locked, you stared at him pouring every ounce of your love into your gaze with each step you took towards him. Eddie's eyes seemed glassy. Was he about to cry? The thought made tears of your own well up.

Reaching the end, you stop and face him.

"Something blue huh?" You whisper, nodding at his flower accompaniment.

"Something blue" He smiles, gesturing at your dress. "You look incredible."

Keening at the praise, you look down for the first time and notice his heavy black biker boots.

He shuffles uncomfortably in place.

"I, er, forgot my shoes."

"It's perfect. Very you." Smiling, you grasp his hand, and nod at the officiary in front of you.

The officiary goes through the vows, up until it's time for the rings.

The rings! How could I forget the rings?!

Eddie's small smile is enough to calm you, as he reaches into his inside pocket and hands you a simple white gold band. He's holding a matching one.

You flash a warm smile at him, one he reciprocates with a disarming wink. This is the man you fell for; always ready, fixing a situation, making everything OK with just a glance.

The service ends quickly. They must have a quota to meet or something as before you know it, you are ushered outside and another couple are making their forever I Do's.

"So, what now, Mr Munson?" You ask, threading your arms around his waist.

"Hmmm, whatever Mrs Munson wants" He replies, nudging his nose with yours.

The giggle that bubbles out of your mouth comes unbidden and doesn't seem to want to stop.

"I think we should drink to our happily ever after, don't you?"

"OK" he sighs, "one drink. Then, hotel. I wanna consummate this thing right now."

The giggle turns into belly laughs as you respond, "I bet you do. But first a toast!"

********************

Well. It turns out, Vegas gives a lot of things to newlyweds. A free steak dinner, some free spins, and free drinks. A lot of free drinks. The afternoon had bled into late evening, and your cheeks hurt from the permanent smile etched on your face.

You both stumble towards the rented room and open it with a key card on the third attempt. Making your way into the room, Eddie stops you in your tracks.

"No, I gotta do this right" He mutters, as he lifts you up and cradles you in his arms to cross the threshold.

"Eddie!" You shriek, wiggling in his arms as he lifts you into the room, banging the door shut with his foot.

Eddie places you less than gracefully on the bed, the mattress wobbling under your weight. He hovers over you, looking distressed for a moment.

"Fuck" He says, almost defeated, his knee forcing your legs apart.

"What?"

"I used all my moves on you. Dunno what to do" He huffs into your neck, the hot air making you shiver.

"You silly bastard" you laugh, grabbing at his arms in a futile attempt to pull him in.

"No, 'sgot to be special!" He whines childishly.

"Eddie…" you attempt to get his attention, but he continues to look distraught, lips dragging soft and sloppy kisses over your neck. Inhibitions have truly left the building; the alcohol, eloping, and the feel of his hands all over you had you feeling rebellious.

"Well, you can always- stick it in my ass."

The statement pulls him out of his overcome revelry and lifts his head to gape at you, soft brown eyes trying to judge if you're being serious or not.

"Huh??"

"Well, you want to. You said it before. It'll… mark the occasion." You smirk at him, lifting your dress over your head and discarding it on one of the garish rugs in the room.

Pretty underwear displayed, Eddie's eyes rake over your frame. All barely there light blue lace hugs your curves. His gaze covets your physique, roaming up and down your body with reckless abandon.

"Well, you want to?" You ask, turning around beneath him so that your ass is pointing at him, almost wiggling in anticipation.

"Ooh you dirty fuckin' girl" He breathes out, quickly freeing himself of his suit jacket and shirt.

The rough pull of his hands forcing your hips up elicits a squeak from you, and before you know it he's running his tongue across your clothed pussy, dragging it up and up, and over your hole. Whimpering at the new sensation, you find yourself pushing back unconsciously onto his tongue.

"Fuck, my dirty girl. My dirty wife."

Suddenly he hooks his tongue into the flimsy stripe of your panties, and you feel it against your bare ring. The sensation is new; different but very welcome. Moaning wantonly, your fingers grip onto the bed sheets.

Eddie wrestles your underwear off you then, roughly working them down your thighs and off. Your bra goes too, flung into the abyss. Manhandling you back into position, your ass unceremoniously up in the air, he massages your cheeks with coarse hands.

"Legs wider for me, sweetheart."

You shuffle your knees, starting to feel self conscious in your position, but it's not good enough.

"I said wider."

A sharp smack to your ass takes you entirely by surprise, buzzing over your skin. A moan comes out of you at the sensation.

"I think she likes that!" You can hear the smile in his voice. You move your knees further out to accommodate him. The lack of sound coming from him is making you feel uncomfortable, until you feel a soft kiss, just a simple brush of his lips against the cheek he just struck.

"So fuckin' beautiful."

He's licking into you then, tongue breaching your hole as he slips a finger deep into your cunt.

"Oh fuck, Eddie!"

It feels so messy, so naughty; the wet noises of Eddie's wiggling tongue, and of his thick finger pulling squelching sounds from deep within are loud and salacious. He hums satisfaction into you, the vibration driving you wild. The need is throbbing from you, your clit twitching at nothing.

It's almost getting too much to take, his incessant movements making you feral with desires.

"Eddie, please!"

You expect teasing from him, a sarcastic comment, a pouting voice, but nothing comes. You just feel the emptiness of his tongue and finger exiting you, leaving you clenching at nothing. Then, the sound of his belt, clear as a bell. There's rustling, and a very quiet 'fuck'.

"What's wrong Eddie?" You ask, trying to look over your shoulder.

"Forgot my boots" He laughs, as he frantically tries to rid himself of his pants, boxers and boots in one go. You giggle at his eagerness.

All laughter stops however when you feel him release a globule of spit directly on your hole. It has you clenching around nothing, thighs clenching at the seediness of it all.

Then, his arms are on either side of your shoulders as he crowds over you, bare skin sliding on your back, his cock pushed between your legs. Hot breath fans the shell of your ear; his wavy hair tickling your neck.

"You sure you wanna do this, pretty girl?"

"Yes, please Eddie."

He kisses your cheek, then your shoulder, soft, loving kisses that make your insides melt.

"You tell me if it's too much sweetheart."

Kneeling up, he lines himself up with your hole, spitting down again at where you are so close to being joined, and pushes against you.

The tip slides in and you gasp. It's not painful as such, just uncomfortable. Eddie's large hand strokes down your back, soothing you.

"Just relax sweetheart."

Heeding his words, you breathe through your nose and out through your mouth.

"Look at you, doing such a good job. I'm gonna go further, OK?"

"Y-yeah" you manage, the praise fluttering in your tummy. As he softly caresses your back with his hand, he pushes his length into you slowly, until he's fully seated inside.

"Fuuuck… so tight sweetheart, holy shit."

His breathing is laboured, both hands now grasping onto your hips for dear life.

You feel… full. Not unpleasantly so. As you relax around his length, your pussy begins to flutter in the absence of attention. A mixture of your slick and his spit is wetting your thighs, a cooler contrast to the heat throbbing inside you.

"Eddie, you can move."

"No I fucking can't" He half laughs, though it sounds slightly strained as he's stroking your skin.

"Eddie!"

"OK, OK," he mumbles, pulling out slightly and pushing back in. The feeling is odd, foreign, but with each thrust it pushes the sensations into those of pleasure. You're moaning now, losing yourself in it as pressure mounts in your abdomen.

"Fuck" Eddie's hips stutter slightly, "forgot about the ceiling mirror."

He stops for a moment, clearly losing himself in staring at the two of you conjoined in your sinful position. From here, you couldn't see even if you tried, and the heat pooling from you, the pulsating need, is taking over. So, you push back on his cock, moving your own hips back and forth, chasing your release.

"Holy shit, look at you, think I married a fuckin' porn star, fuck"

His grip tightens again as he thrusts into you harder, grunting with the effort.

Your climax is hurtling towards you violently, the force of it shaking you from the inside out.

"Eddie, Oh I'm gonna- I'm cumming!"

You explode, liquid fire running in your veins, pulsing out with each roll of Eddie's hips. It doesn't burn, how could it? You're barely there, floating to the heavens on a cloud of ecstasy.

"Sweetheart, gripping me too tight, w-where-"

"Inside, please baby, cum inside me I wanna feel it!"

Eddie releases in you with one final powerful thrust. The throb of his orgasm extends your own, wildfire licking at each nerve ending in immeasurable waves.

Finally, you slump into the mattress, sweating and spent. Eddie flops on top of you, peeling away the hair that had stuck to your neck.

"You alright there princess?"

"Yeah" you breathe out, "didn't think it was gonna be that good. I think I left my body for a second there."

He chuckles, slipping out of you and rolling onto the bed. You lie next to him, snuggled contentedly into his chest. You glance up and see your two bodies entwined, legs wrapped up in each others, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces.

"The mirrors a bit creepy."

"That's a shame, I kinda want one now."

You giggle, lightly smacking his chest.

"Pervert."

"Hmm, now, who was the one who was begging for a dick in the ass?"

"Eddie!" You shriek, embarrassed.

"Just saying. We're both perverts. Wanna take a shower, Mrs Munson?"

"Only if you join me, Mr Munson."

You feel the smile on his lips as he presses them against your forehead.

"See? Pervert."

********************

Your stomach is tied tight into a clump of a knot, stressed strands intermingling and tugging on your organs. You try to breathe, feeling the tension in your head subside slightly, but it's still there. Glancing over at Eddie in the driver's seat he gives you a small smile and a reassuring pat on your knee, rough thumb brushing encouragement. It helps.

You're parked outside Eddie's house, having driven back after a couple of days of marital bliss, but now the real world is knocking. Eddie had to go back to the shop to check on things, and you need to talk to your parents.

"You can do it, I know you can" Eddie whispers softly.

"Yes, I can. Come on."

Setting your jaw in determination, you reach out for the handle to let yourself out of the truck.

Both of you stand on the sidewalk, his hand firmly grasped in yours.

"Are you sure you want me to come with you?" Eddie looks worried, discomfort evident. No surprise considering what happened the last time he saw your dad.

"Yes, definitely. They need to know we're serious. Let's go."

He lets you lead the way across the street and outside your parents house. Both cars are in the driveway, a good indication that your mom and dad are both home. Taking one final deep breath, you knock on the door.

The door opens a crack, and your mom's face appears. Then it's flung open wide crashing in the frame and she's crushing you in a bone crunching embrace.

"Oh thank God you're safe I was so worried! Honey I'm so sorry, come in, come in!"

She's dragging you inside and Eddie sheepishly follows just behind you. Her hands are cradling your face, as if she's looking for signs of pain.

"Mom, I'm OK. I'm great. I'm happy" You reassure her with a tight smile, pulling her hands down to her sides. It's as if she just notices Eddie is there, eyes flitting between you two as you grasp his hand firmly again. For your strength, as well as his.

"Honey, you know all I want is for you to be happy. If he's the man you want, I'll stand by-"

Her encouraging words are cut off by the gruff tones of your father from the kitchen.

"Is that her?" He booms, and you jump slightly, trying to will the confidence that you just held back into your spine.

He appears then, cheeks an angry red, the stern look set into his face slightly marred by the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"Now Mick, we discussed-"

Your mom begins but he moves her aside to try and step towards you. His eyes quickly move to Eddie but you stand in front of him like a shield.

"You can get out of my house right now!"

"Dad, can we just-"

He points a finger at you, eyes dragging away from Eddie and towards you again.

"Now you listen here young lady-"

"No!"

It comes out loud, louder than you expected it to. Shock emanates from him in waves as he stares at you open mouthed.

Softer, you continue.

"No. You listen. You've said enough and you've not let me speak, through any of this."

Your father attempts to regain composure. The accusing finger is laid to rest, and he nods at you. Taking it as the best sign you can, you finally have your say.

"I'm not a kid anymore. I'm a woman. I can make my own decisions, and I've decided. I love Eddie. I love him with all my heart. He's the one for me, now and always."

Eddie doesn't say anything; he's letting you have your moment, so he just places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. You reach up with your own hand, your left hand, and squeeze right back. Mom's eyes widen when she notices the rings.

"I want you to accept this, to accept us. This happened, whether you like it or not. Eddie's a good man, you know he is. I love you all. Please don't make me choose between you, because-" biting back tears, you try and stay strong, "because I'll always choose my husband."

The silence is loaded and deafening. All you can hear is your own heart hammering in your ears.

Your dad's voice breaks the quiet. It's low, bordering on a whisper.

"So… this is serious then?"

You can't help it, a laugh barks out of your chest before you can contain it, the release of emotion allowing a tear to run down your cheek.

"You could say that."

"Honey, I- come here." Your father opens his arms to you and you fall into them, tears tumbling freely down your face. He's crying then too, bubbling sobs that he buries into your hair.

"I'm so sorry honey, so sorry" He blubbering, wet apologies spilling from his mouth like a dam has burst. "You're my little girl, I just w-wanted to p-protect you."

You shush him, rubbing his back.

"I know dad, I know."

He finally releases you from his grip, wiping tears furiously from his face.

Eddie steps around you, holding his hand out to your father. He takes it in his, and then grasps it with the other as well, holding it firmly as he looks him in the eyes.

"You love my daughter?"

"More than anything." Eddie says emphatically. Your dad nods, but doesn't let go.

"You promise to take care of her, make her happy?"

It feels like you're saying your vows all over again, only this time it's to become part of the family.

"I promise Mick. I'd do anything for her."

Your father pulls him forward suddenly, taking Eddie by surprise. He whispers something in his ear, and envelops him into a crushing embrace.

You look over to your mom. Tears are cascading down her cheeks and she grabs onto you for dear life.

"You're married?! I didn't get a chance to buy a hat!" Your laughs and tears intermingle at that, smiling broadly.

After a few more hugs and tears, you excuse yourself, going upstairs to collect yourself and freshen up. Two minutes later, Eddie's barging in, clearly forgetting how to knock again. Not that you care anymore. You're in each other's arms immediately, his large hand stroking the back of your head.

"Well, that went better than last time."

You laugh, nodding agreement. Pulling away to look at him, you can't help but ask.

"What did my dad whisper to you?"

He chuckles back and fills you in.

"Something along the lines of, 'if you break her heart I'll break both your legs.' "

"Wow, extreme."

"Fuckin' fair if you ask me sweetheart."

His lips are on yours, soft plush pillowed against you.

"I gotta go to the shop, sort some stuff out. Oh, and get a key cut."

You tilt your head at him. "A key?"

"For you, for your new home. Our home."

Your tears brim with tears anew.

"You want me to move in, what, straightaway?"

"Hmm lemme think" He says, index finger dramatically tapping his chin. "Hell yes?"

You don't answer. You don't have to. You just fling yourself into his arms and kiss him over, and over, and over.

********************

Tag List (Thank you for all of your support it means so much to me)

@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @daisyridleyyyy @lolalanaie @dandelionnfluff @latedawnsearlysunsets92 @luv-flor7777 @topaz1983 @pixxie2004 @harmfulb1tch @findmeincorneliastreet @eddies-puppet @fertilitygodkiszka @freshsagegarden @josephquinnsfreckles

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stitcherofchaos · 3 months ago

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Kidnap Fam vs Earendil and Elwing controversy: Regarding the twins

Maybe I’m too practical-minded, but I see a lot of people either supporting or exaggerating kidnap fam, hating it with all their being, or ignoring the whole ‘love grew between them’ to translate into ‘emotional manipulation, hatred, resentment… etc (being anti-canon)’. I’ll respect opinions, frankly, I really could care less about them, but it does get irritating when people throw canon away for the drama (I certainly get annoyed when extreme pro-kidnap fams fans make it all sunshine and rainbows as if it wasn’t a difficult time or situation).

By the way, I can and will say that the twins can feel emotions, they are allowed to do that. Resentment and love can exist at the same time (for only a period of time) but one or the other must fade in order for the other the linger. One has to be consumed in order for the other to burn.

But just a thought, Elrond and Elros could love all of their parents equally, no more, no less than the others. One became a healer and the other, a king, I think they came to understand their foster father(s) and their bio-parents’ decisions.

(Ay maybe I just suck at emotions and all this feelings stuff and have no idea what I’m tolkien about)

And I’m not trying to call out or bash anyone!

I saw (and wanted to share) the quote,

“if your anger burns the furnace in your soul your whole life, you will be forever cold in the grave.”(I’m paraphrasing, I can’t remember the exact quote)

I cannot imagine Elrond or Elros being resentful to the point were they are vicious or unforgiving, whether it was towards Elwing, Eärendil, Maglor, or Maedhros (I really don’t think he was involved too much but if you swing that way).

I don’t want Elros to be cold in his grave, and I certainly don’t want Elrond's fëa to be burning for the rest of his immortal life.

Then I also had the thought, 'if the Fëanorians had never committed the third, worst, kinslaying, then Elwing would have never flown the Silmaril to her husband and they would have never gotten the help of the Valar.'

I personally headcanon that it was Eru’s work at hand to have Maglor raise Elrond and Elros. Think about it, what if they were spoiled in an alternate universe? What if something worse had happened to the twins? What if? What if?

What if they didn't become who they were meant to be if it wasn't for who they were raised by?

By the way, I read LOTR, I know Elrond refers to Eärendil publicly as his father and he makes no mention of Maglor. I analyzed this in three ways. 1.) Elrond must keep (the memory of) Maglor closed off, locked in his heart rather than talking about him more. 2.) It would've caused drama in his realm and in the counsel. 3.) Elrond really doesn't care, his father is his father, that's it. Zip. Maglor raised him, but Maglor is gone now. In a way, Eärendil is more present than Maglor in Elrond's life by the third age. Elrond can physically see the star, but he can't see Maglor.

I see it in the third way mostly. Eärendil is Elrond father, biologically, so why would he do this "My 'real' father" BS? It just seems like a waste of time. Tolkien probably didn't want to confuse anyone since the Silmarillion couldn't be published with LOTR.

Remind me of that quote from Yondu, "He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy." But I really didn't want to refer to that quote considering Peter and Yondu's relationship is not the best example to compare this cluster of daddy issues to. Nevertheless, there is a point to be made in that statement. There is a difference between relation in regard to Nature vs Nurture, and the effects of it.

I guess the whole point of this post is, the fandom tends to take canon lore to the extreme or over analyze things to the point where they're just projecting. Trust me, I've been there, done that. I've learned my lesson (I think) and I wanted to share what I've learned.

Also (this is purely opinion) I don’t think Maglor was manipulative about anything, in the book, he just didn’t come off that way, for as little as he appeared, he actually seemed to be pretty optimistic (*regarding Eärendil) and honest (*the debate with Maedhros). He didn’t try to excuse himself or get the twins to pity him. Maglor raising the twins was out of pity/mercy, yes, but love grew (like what Tolkien said). He probably educated them on the facts and encouraged them to form their own opinions, whether that costed him their love or not. Maglor did have the more accurate moral compass compared to his brothers (in the end of the book!- Put down your pitchforks Maedhros stans!), especially if he knew that the Silmaril was better beyond their reach than where the enemy can also reach it. It was an accurate moral compass, although not a big one.

Argue, agree or disagree, or discuss with me! I want to hear different perspectives or opinions on this matter.

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nopointic · 5 months ago

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when lisa said how everyone always says "time heals all wounds" when you lose a loved one or are hurt so badly you feel like nothing will ever be okay again, and she said that's a lie "time is the wound" i was like!!!!!!!

that's the fucking wound!!!!! that's why we feel distressed when we're looking back at memories and can't find that shirt we wore every other monday to a club meeting or that bracelet your grandma gave you. the smudged and faded writings in old books you've had on your shelf for ages. we memorialize EVERYTHING as humans. hell even animals do too!

we write letters and sing songs and we lay flowers and grin at laughs that sound familiar and get misty eyed at scents we catch walking through a crowded store. we cut hair and keep lockets of it and i've seen parents hold onto gowns they wore at the hospital while giving birth (my grandma still has the gown she gave birth to my mom in! she's 82 years old!!!!!!!!!! had my mom at 17!!!!!!) we are all made of memories and lisa is so right about how nobody should be forgotten.

the creature leaving flowers and writing beloved wife on her tomb! the gummy rings! the stitches she used to put him back together. the note folded like a football and she used her favorite pink gel pen! you KNOW she spritzed some perfume on that letter! you know lisa! we know her! cos weird shy quiet girls are her! (i am still selectively mute)

time is an open wound because we don't know how much we're gonna get. when he played the piano and lisa said you had a whole life. yes! people in the past had lives and fufilling ones! even if the final tombstone says something as fucked up unmarried or unknown, that use to be a vibrant soul! a person! like you and me.

lisa frankenstein may be corny or too campy to some, but it was everything my libra pink heart emoji with the yellow sparkles could ever want in a romcom.

someone literally ride or die for you, showing you their wounds, holding their wounds and saying i see and feel you and i'm gonna make this better, not perfect, but better, and i love you for loving and noticing me, and not throwing me away. for remembering me and picking me over and over even when i wasn't there. even when i didn't talk. when i couldn't talk. when i chose NOT to talk. you picked me? and loved me anyways? and got me?!

that is love.

and yes, lisa frankenstein is poetic cinema to me. sorry not sorry but it is. 5 stars. a million pink heart emojis.

a pair of gummy rings and tulle skirt in pastel goth colors with bold rainbow suspenders. this movie has my heart!

#lisa frankenstein #lisa swallows #kathryn newton #cole sprouse #lisa x creature #selective mutism #selectively mute

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shiny-jr · 1 year ago

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how to steal a heart (I)

[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader.

- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?

IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .

Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view.

The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already.

A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?”

Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors.

“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?”

Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her.

Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?”

Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!”

The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town.

In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining?

Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be––

“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!”

“Reyes?!”

“Where? I don’t see it!”

“There! Over the hill!”

Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious.

In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior.

Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down.

Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.

Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors.

Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week!

The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day.

Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string.

The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them.

The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won.

While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing.

It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own.

Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved.

Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point…

By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags.

As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.

Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here.

Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall.

The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?”

A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie.

The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity.

As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.”

Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?”

This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.”

Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.”

It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well.

In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time.

“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.

#yandere #yandere guy #yandere story #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #how to steal a heart

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