#a two week break after this too? I'm a bit frustrated about it

[mybelovedwoo]

secretly close

seonghwa x f!reader

fluff, forbidden love/ wc: 2.0k

warnings: jealousy, a lost little kiddo, anxiety, tension between two people, unsaid feelings

note: hey guys! i hope you liked this little comeback, i swear i'll try to post more frequently again. i missed you. lots of love from yours truly <3

seonghwa masterlist - main masterlist

Y/n and Seonghwa had grown closer over the past few weeks. Their initial connection had blossomed into a deep, meaningful friendship. They texted all the time, sharing jokes, life updates, and random thoughts throughout the day. But they both knew they couldn't tell Yunho or Y/n's sister about it. They wouldn't understand the bond that had developed between them.

One sunny afternoon, Seonghwa texted Y/n, suggesting they meet up for coffee. Y/n eagerly agreed, happy for any excuse to see him.

Seonghwa: Hey, want to grab some coffee today? There's a new café I've been wanting to check out.

Y/n: That sounds perfect! I could use a break. 😊

They met at the cozy little café, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted them as they walked in. They ordered their drinks—an iced Americano for Seonghwa and a caramel macchiato for Y/n—and found a small table by the window.

"This place is really nice," Y/n said, taking a sip of her drink. "I love the atmosphere."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Seonghwa agreed, smiling. "How have you been? How are your classes going?"

Y/n sighed, a hint of frustration in her eyes. "They're tough, but I'm managing. It helps to have distractions, like hanging out with you."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Glad I can be of service. Work has been crazy for me too. But I guess we're both just surviving the chaos, huh?"

They continued chatting, their conversation flowing effortlessly. They talked about everything from their favorite movies to their dreams for the future. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and they frequently found themselves sharing knowing looks and inside jokes.

After finishing their coffee, they decided to go for a walk. The weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze and a clear blue sky. They strolled through a nearby park, enjoying the tranquility and each other's company.

As they walked, Y/n found herself glancing at Seonghwa, admiring his profile. She appreciated how thoughtful and kind he was, always making her feel comfortable and valued.

Seonghwa, on the other hand, was captivated by Y/n's bubbly personality and the way her laughter lit up her face. He felt a connection with her that he couldn't quite explain, but he knew it was special.

They came across a food stand selling Sotteok Sotteok—skewers of rice cakes and sausages. Seonghwa's eyes lit up. "Want to grab some? I'm starving."

"Definitely," Y/n agreed, her mouth watering at the thought.

As they approached the stand, the girl working there flashed a bright smile at Seonghwa. "Hey there, what can I get for you?"

"We'll take two Sotteok Sotteok, please," Seonghwa said, returning the smile.

The girl quickly prepared the skewers and handed them over. "Here you go. You know, you have a really nice smile," she said, batting her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

Y/n felt a pang of discomfort. She knew she had no right to feel jealous—they were just friends, after all. But she couldn't help the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach.

The girl wasn't done. "So, do you come here often? I'd remember a face like yours," she continued, leaning a bit closer to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa, completely oblivious to her intentions, smiled politely. "Not really. This is my first time here."

"Well, you should definitely come back," the girl said, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe next time, I can give you a special discount."

Y/n stood behind Seonghwa, feeling more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She tried to focus on the positive—how nice the day had been, how much fun she was having with Seonghwa—but it was hard to ignore the flutter of unease in her chest.

Seonghwa, still clueless, nodded. "That sounds nice. Thanks for the offer."

Y/n couldn't stay silent any longer. "Are we ready to go, Seonghwa?" she asked, her voice a bit sharper than intended.

Seonghwa turned to her, a bit surprised. "Oh, yeah. Let's find a place to sit and enjoy these."

As they walked away, Y/n tried to shake off her discomfort. She knew Seonghwa wasn't encouraging the girl, but it still bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

They found an empty bench and sat down, enjoying their Sotteok Sotteok and the peaceful surroundings. Y/n decided to change the subject and lighten the mood.

"So, do you get offers like that often?" she teased, trying to keep her tone light.

Seonghwa laughed, looking a bit confused. "Not really. I think she was just being friendly."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, friendly."

They continued chatting, the playful banter flowing naturally. Despite her earlier discomfort, Y/n found herself relaxing and enjoying their conversation.  The park was serene, with families enjoying picnics and children playing nearby.

Just as they were about to take another bite of their Sotteok Sotteok, a little girl no more than six years old approached them. Her eyes were wide with worry, and she tugged on Seonghwa's sleeve.

"Excuse me, mister," the girl said, her voice trembling slightly. "I can't find my mommy. Can you help me?"

Seonghwa and Y/n exchanged a quick glance, their playful banter giving way to concern. Y/n immediately knelt down to the girl's eye level, trying to comfort her.

"Hey, sweetie, it's okay," Y/n said gently. "Let's help you find your mommy. Can you tell us where you last saw her?"

The little girl nodded, her lower lip quivering. "Over there," she pointed towards a crowded area of the park.

Seonghwa placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll help you find her," he said with a reassuring smile.

Y/n and Seonghwa followed the little girl through the park, scanning the area for any signs of the girl's mother. Y/n felt a rush of empathy for the child, imagining the fear and confusion she must be experiencing.

As they approached a larger group of people, they spotted a woman frantically calling out the girl's name. Relief washed over the woman's face as she saw her daughter running towards her.

"Mama!" the little girl exclaimed, throwing herself into her mother's arms.

The woman hugged her tightly, tears of relief streaming down her face. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much for finding her!"

Y/n smiled warmly, relieved that the situation had a happy ending. "It's no problem at all. We're just glad she's safe."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. "She's a brave girl for finding us and asking for help."

The woman turned to Y/n and Seonghwa, her expression filled with gratitude. "Thank you both again. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found her."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "We're just glad everything turned out okay."

After ensuring the little girl and her mother were safely reunited, Y/n and Seonghwa started heading back home. The park had quieted down, and the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky. They walked side by side, talking and laughing about random things, the earlier tension dissolving into the background.

As they strolled along the path, Seonghwa was telling a particularly funny story about his misadventures with Legos when suddenly, the sky opened up and rain began to pour heavily.

"Oh no!" Y/n exclaimed, looking up at the darkening sky. "We don't have an umbrella!"

Seonghwa glanced around, then grabbed Y/n's hand. "Come on, let's find some shelter!" he shouted over the sound of the rain.

They sprinted down the street, dodging puddles and laughing despite the downpour. After a few moments, Seonghwa spotted a doorway of a small, closed café and pulled Y/n under the awning. They were both soaked to the skin, rainwater dripping from their hair and clothes.

Breathless and shivering slightly from the cold, they looked at each other and started laughing about the whole situation.

"This is crazy!" Y/n said between giggles, wiping water from her face.

"Yeah, it's like a scene from a movie," Seonghwa agreed, chuckling. But then he stopped laughing, his expression turning serious.

Y/n noticed the change and her laughter faded too. The air between them seemed to thicken, the playful atmosphere replaced by something more intense. Seonghwa's eyes searched hers, and she felt her heart begin to race.

He reached out slowly, gently pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, and Y/n felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

"How can you be this pretty even like this?" Seonghwa said softly, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/n felt her cheeks flush. She didn't know what to say. Pretty? Me? she thought. Then what about you, you're seriously so handsome. But she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

Instead, she stammered, "I-I... um, thank you. You're too kind."

Seonghwa noticed how Y/n was shivering, her damp clothes clinging to her and her lips slightly blue from the cold. Concern filled his eyes as he gently rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up.

"Let's get you home," Seonghwa said, his voice firm yet caring.

Y/n nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. They stepped back into the rain, which seemed to have no intention of letting up. Seonghwa kept a protective arm around her, guiding her through the slick streets. Their earlier playfulness had given way to a quiet, mutual understanding.

By the time they reached Y/n's apartment, they were both thoroughly drenched. Seonghwa walked her to the door, lingering for a moment.

"Thank you for today," Y/n said, looking up at him with a soft smile. "I had a great time, despite the rain."

"Me too," Seonghwa replied. "Get inside and dry off. I'll see you soon."

Y/n nodded, giving him one last smile before stepping into her apartment. Seonghwa waited until he heard the door lock behind her, ensuring she was safely inside. With a sigh, he turned and started the walk back to his own place, his thoughts swirling.

As he walked through the rain, Seonghwa replayed the day's events in his mind. The laughter, the unexpected moments, and the connection he felt with Y/n. He couldn't deny his feelings any longer; they were too strong to ignore. But what would he do about them? How would he navigate this complicated situation with Yunho and Y/n's sister?

By the time he reached his apartment, he was soaked to the bone and deep in thought. He opened the door to find Yunho lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Yunho looked up, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of his drenched friend.

"Seonghwa! What happened to you?" Yunho exclaimed, sitting up.

Seonghwa shook off some of the excess water and managed a sheepish grin. "Got caught in the rain. Long story."

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head. "You look like you swam home. Seriously, what happened?"

Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "It's a bit of a story. I was with Y/n, and we ended up helping a lost little girl find her mom. Then the rain started, and we got soaked trying to get back."

Yunho raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face. "You and Y/n, huh? You two seem to be spending a lot of time together lately."

Seonghwa felt his cheeks heat up but tried to play it cool. "Yeah, she's great company. We get along really well."

"Uh-huh," Yunho said, his smirk widening. "Just friends, right?"

Seonghwa's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to tell Yunho everything, but the timing didn't feel right. "Yeah, just friends," he lied, hoping his friend would drop the subject.

Yunho's expression shifted to something more serious. "Good. Because if you had decided to mess around with my girlfriend's little sister, that would have been a whole mess. And she is my little sister too, after all. I look at her that way, and I wouldn't want to ask you to leave her alone, bro. So I'm glad you're just friends."

Seonghwa felt a lump form in his throat. He forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I understand."

"Great," Yunho said, clapping Seonghwa on the shoulder. "Now go get changed before you catch a cold. And next time, take an umbrella."

Seonghwa laughed weakly, grateful for the momentary reprieve. "Yeah, yeah. I'll remember that."

As he headed to his room to dry off and change, Seonghwa's thoughts returned to Y/n. He knew he had to figure out his feelings and what to do about them. But for now, he was content with the memory of their day together and the hope of what could be.

-

taglist: @dinossaurz @soso59love-blog @tiredlittlevirgo @everythingboutkpop@engentiny @abibliolife @k-zuzu @ateezswonderland @oc3anfloor

[yuseirra]

162 rant~~

This one has a lot of spoilers so I'll use a read more!

Seriously though...it'd be so freaky if there's hundreds of dead bodies that start showing up the next chapter or so in the world of onk,

only after Kamiki dies or sth because he had some kind of godly powers that prevented them from being discovered while he's alive...

I' m actually scared to see that happen :/

I did say I wasn't too bitter earlier but I am a bit, they really didn't have to make his past so full of suffering if they were only going to make it as a convenient device to make him a criminal that'd have an obsession over his gf, I feel that's very rude and cruel. It can be handled better.

There are a few things that'd make me feel really unsettling if this is it, I still really don't want people lile nino and ryosuke get some type of justification or something that'd make it seem like they couldn't help being that way(it just doesn't make the manga to be that way;;)

And another bit would be about Ai...

Kamiki's probably really really broken to have become what he is now, but... Gosh, this chapter did not do Ai any justice. Sibling bond and the tender feelings that passed in from former lives are great in theory,

But I really want there to be a reason on WHY she had mothered the twins. It's like Ai is out of the picture in this one? She DIDN'T have to be there if this is it. I thought they were reborn into her twins have to do with her. So I'm really not giving up on this idea. I still believe the theories I had regarding this makes good sense. It's really how I see things, and I still don't really see it going any other way?

I want her wishes to come true and it should. A little bit annoyed on how Aqua is all about Ruby and not about what Ai's wanted, he doesn't mention of what she's wanted and I feel like Kamiki cares about her more lol(I do hope he loves her the right way.. Anyhow he does think about her till the end, it gets really creepy though? This can't be his nature. I refuse to believe it;) it gives me the idea that at least he didn't harm Ai because if he did, wouldn't Aqua have got to his throat about it, saying Ai really loved you but you killed her and all that? The guy fell into ruin AFTER having lost his half, that's how I think it is. Wow, but he really, seriously is in shambles rn, then just what was him in 154?? How is he so different from then? Is there a way to take of him in a consistent way?? I don't see it for the time being.

May write more later but this is what I need to get out of my head rn, it's not very good. So I don't think things are over just yet!

[littlejuicebox]

You'll stay still, won't you, little love?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex

Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀

-----

You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.

When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction. 

Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give. 

For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.

“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.

“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.” 

He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this. 

“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.

You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.

“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers. 

“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight. 

“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.

“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent. 

“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.

“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.

Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”

You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.” 

“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”

You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.

“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”

Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”

“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.

“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.

He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.

His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself. 

In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.

“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.

“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.

Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.

You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth. 

You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.

“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.

You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.

His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.

“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.

You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.” 

And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.

Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.

Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.

“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.

“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.

As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.

He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.

Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.

“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.

“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”

“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.” 

He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.

[allpiesforourown]

Roommate Binghe would absolutely make the most insanely hilarious Reddit thread that’s so out of touch with reality. I can just hear the comments begging him to give the woman he dates a break and just bend over and fuck his roommate already

That thought is literally what inspired this au for me in my head I had this idea of binghe saying "am I the asshole for not picking my BEST FRIEND OF TEN YEARS over a woman I've been dating for two weeks?" And it's one of those aita posts that have a deceptive title because everyone reads that and goes of course not! Then the actual post is this:

"I (21M) met my best friend (22M) when I was 11 and he was 12. I used to be really weak and scrawny back then, and he saw me getting bullied at the playground and became the first person who ever stood up for me. After that he asked his parents to hire my mom and we could finally move out of poverty. She was really sick at the time and getting a better paying job really helped her get better. I'm saying all this to show how important he is to me and why anyone should understand that he'll always be the most important person in the world to me.

He's also a bit sickly. Nothing severe but he has asthma and picks up illnesses way easier than most people, so I often take care of him.

Recently he said he wanted to meet my girlfriend, so I agreed the three of us should have dinner together at a nice restaurant. She was weirdly quiet the whole time, staring at the two of us talk. When we left it was late, and the night air was making him shiver, so I gave gege my jacket. I thought we'd all head our separate ways from there but my girlfriend got super moody and said it was my job to drive her back too?? I said "I'm not making gege walk back because you want me to drive you home" and she was about to yell at me when gege stepped between us and said I can drop her off and then take us home. It was annoying because she lives in the opposite direction but I agreed.

When we got to her apartment, instead of saying thanks and leaving, she said she wants to talk to me. Obviously I didn't want to leave my friend alone in the car, but he just smiled and said I should say goodnight to my girlfriend. He's always very sweet and indulgent to the people I date, to the point it's a little frustrating.

Once we were alone, she blew up at me, claiming I ignored her all evening. She got mad at me, saying that gege was wearing jeans and a full sleeve shirt while she was wearing a short dress and I gave my jacket to him instead. I explained to her that his immune system is weak so if he caught a chill he'd be sick way longer than if she got a cold.

That was our first argument. She got over it in a few days. but I didn't want her around gege anymore lest she said something about me "picking him over her" and made him feel guilty for no reason.

Afterwards she invited me to be her plus one at her cousin's wedding. I said I'd go but just two days before gege got really sick. I said I'd stay with him, but he insisted I go to the wedding and he'd get someone else to look after him. He mentioned this guy who I absolutely hate and that's when I knew I couldn't leave him in anyone else's care.

Gege's friend is a terrible influence on him. He's an idiot with no brain and a creep who clearly wants to take advantage of him. I absolutely could not leave the two of them alone when he was so vulnerable so I refused to leave him alone even for a few hours. Gege was too feverish to remember the wedding after the first day so he didn't say anything about it.

I was so busy taking care of him, I forgot to tell her I wouldn't be able to come to the wedding. I didn't bother picking up my phone until gege was back on his feet and saw about 50 missed calls all from her. When I called her back she was screaming so loud, gege could hear her even though she wasn't on speaker. After I hung up on her, he looked so sad and said he was sorry for being the reason I couldn't go. I told him I didn't even want to go and it was just her cousin, but for the last week he's had a perpetual frown on his usually smiling face. I feel so terrible. I want to tell him it's not his fault, of course I'd choose his HEALTH over a date, but he's really beating himself up about it... I hate that I made him feel that way.

Top comment: THAT'S THE PART YOU FEEL GUILTY FOR???? THAT YOUR GEGE FEELS BAD????????? NOT HOW YOU MISTREATED YOUR POOR GIRLFRIEND?????

Second comment: just fuck your best friend instead of making her suffer bro 😭😭

[javierpena-inatacvest]

I saw this on Twitter and I just screamed because this is so Osita and Javi code 😭 like when she was having bad morning sickness and couldn't eat anything, but Javi just said her favorite foods and went to buy them 🥹

https://x.com/pascalisswift/status/1847825290875048157?s=46

McFlurry for Two

Summary: You're wide awake, pregnant, and have no idea what you want to eat. Lucky for you, Javi has an idea of what may make you feel better

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: This is all fluff and sweetness 🥺 Mentions of morning sickness and food aversion

A/N: Sweet non, whoever you are, this is the most adorable thing I've ever seen 😭 You know that this man would cross the ends of the earth and back to get you whatever you were craving. Dad to be!Javi is top tier, 10/10, no notes.

It doesn't surprise Javi to find you wandering around the kitchen at 5:30 in the morning anymore. Thank god he's always been an earlier riser- it makes it easier to keep you company as you shuffle through the boxes and containers in the pantry for the 3rd time since you've woken up, trying to will whatever you and the baby have been craving into your kitchen. Even if he wasn't an earlier riser, the sounds of you frantically scavenging through every food item you own like some sort of wild raccoon would be enough to wake even the heaviest of sleepers.

It also doesn't surprise him when he stumbles into your kitchen, half awake and half dressed, he hears the sounds of your sniffles, crying in frustration that you can't figure out what you want to eat at this ungodly hour of the morning.

"Baby's hungry?" He asks, never blaming you for whatever strange, nearly non-edible combinations you're looking for. He made that mistake once early on- He's learned his lesson ever since.

You still can't help but pout, arms crossed over your chest, trying to hold back your tears as Javi sneaks up behind you, the warmth of his bare chest pressed against your back, hands wrapping around to splay across your growing bump.

"Yeah. We have nothing to eat."

It takes everything in Javi not to laugh as the two of you stare into your open pantry, filled to the brim with every snack imaginable from the 6 trips he's made to the grocery store this week alone.

Truth be told, he's just happy you're eating again after 3 hellish months of barely being able to keep anything down besides bananas and diet Coke. He'll take multiple trips to the grocery store instead of watching you hunch over the toilet in misery any day of the week.

"Anything sound good, Osita?" That's a question he's learned is a gamble too- when you already have an answer in mind, you couldn't be happier he's asked. When you don't, he's come to find it's a question that can quickly lead to tears.

Unfortunately for him, this morning, it's the second.

"I-I don't know. I'm so hungry and nothing sounds good. And then I think something sounds good, but then I think about it for too long, and then the thought of it makes me wanna yak. Ugh, I just wanna eat!" For as humorous as the basis of your conundrum is, it still breaks his heart to watch you cry, gently kissing your shoulder and rubbing his hands back and forth across your belly to try and ease at least a little bit of your pain. You're growing his baby, for Christ's sake. If you wanted fresh spaghetti and meatballs, he'd be on the next flight to Italy, if that's what it took.

"Shhhh, I know, honey. It's okay. We'll figure out what Baby wants, I promise. Want me to list things, and then you can tell me if they sound any good?" He knows his one good brain cell is definitely not working full force, considering the sun was still hours away from waking the rest of the world, but he also knows that your poor brain is working overtime and a half. The slim chance he can come up with a solution that gives you any sort of relief is solace enough for him.

"O-okay." You sniffle, gulping down the rest of your tears. Javi knows he's not a mind reader, but Lord knows it would sure help if he could be one right now.

"Pickles and sriracha?"

"Ew, no. Spicy stuff sounds gross and I don't wanna have heartburn later."

"Sour gummy worms?"

"Ehhhh, maybe."

"Garlic bread?"

"Oh god, no. Please don't say that again, or I may legitimately throw up."

"Okay, not that, got it. Uh, shit- What about... French fries? Like, french fries dipped in chocolate ice cream?"

He braces himself for the next 10 seconds of silence as you ponder his suggestion. Thankfully, your silence is golden.

"Oh my god, that's what I wanted! How did you know that's what I wanted?" Even though you're still crying, at least now they're tears of relief, Javi letting out a quiet exhale of satisfaction himself at the fact it only took him a single digit number of guesses to solve your hunger riddle.

"Lucky guess." Javi smiles as he gently wipes the tears from your eyes, kissing your forehead before bending down to kiss your belly. It does a number on his knees, but he'll take all the joint pain he can handle before passing up on a chance to greet his two favorite girls good morning. "Try and go get some more sleep, Osita. I'll be back in a few with food. There anything else you want while I'm out?"

He's not sure what he's said in the past 3 sentences that's made you start crying again- he hasn't been able to figure out a pattern in the past 5 months, and guesses he won't come close in the 54to come.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Baby, don't cry, it's okay." He coos, draping his arms around you to pull him against his chest, letting your weepy tears drip against his tanned, warm skin.

"I'm- I'm sorry." Your apology only spurs your tears on further.

"Sorry? What on Earth do you have to be sorry about, Osita?"

"That I'm always hungry and can't stop crying about it."

He can't help but smirk at this one, brushing the sleepy strands of hair away from your face as he carefully cups your cheek, tilting your chin up just enough to place a delicate kiss on your lips.

"Cariño, you don't have to apologize. You're pregnant. No offense mi amor, but I kind of expect crying and being hungry all the time to be a given."

Javi's relieved to finally hear at least a little giggle out of you now, quiet laughter replacing your tears as you remember that somehow, you were lucky enough to be married to a literal saint sent down from the heavens.

"I know, I just- You're so good to me. You're so good to both of us. Way too good to us."

"You're literally growing our baby inside you. French fries and ice cream is about the least I can do."

"I love you, Jav."

"I love you too, Osita. Try and go back to sleep for a little while I'm gone, okay? You and Baby Girl gotta rest up for this McDonald's."

As much as you'd love to protest, it doesn't take much for Javi to get you to curl up on the couch, wrapping you up in your favorite blanket with the TV on low. He laughs to himself as he reappears from your bedroom, putting on enough clothes to go through the drive-through, only to find you passed out cold, mouth half-agape and snoring like a train.

At this point, the McDonald's staff practically knows him by his first name, considering Javi's the only one who's ordering french fries and a chocolate McFlurry before the sun has yet to rise. He knows he has some at home, but it's more often than not that a large, black coffee has now become a part of his order, too, and none of the employees can blame him for that.

The sky has slowly begun to shift from shades of black and blue to warm pinks and oranges as he pulls into the driveway, a sign he's more than likely not making into work on time- his co-workers have learned that a pregnant wife pretty much trumps everything else, short of a life or death emergency.

You're still sound asleep as he tiptoes through the rest of his morning routine, scribbling a quick note under the bag of fries he's left for you on the end table next to the couch, sneaking one last kiss before he leaves for work and begins the countdown of coming back home to you.

It doesn't surprise him to hear his phone ring not long after he's made it into the office- He is almost sure it's you- he's got a 6th sense for it at this point.

"Peña."

"Your note made me cry this morning."

He doesn't mean to beam with an ear to ear grin as he listens to talk about how you're crying, but there's few things in this world he'd rather hear than the sweet sound of your voice.

"You crying at the note, or the fact there's two McFlurries in the freezer instead of one?"

"....Both. How'd you know I would change my mind and say I wanted vanilla instead?"

The concrete evidence is in the pile of crinkled drive-through receipts in his center console, but now's not a time for "I told you so's".

"Just had a feeling. You and Baby Girl enjoy your breakfast."

"This is the most embarrassing version of a breakfast I've had in a very long time, but I guess it's an upgrade from bagels and hot sauce. God, she's gonna have the weirdest taste in food when she grows up, isn't she?"

"If she grows up to be anything like you, I'll be the happiest man alive, hot sauce and all."

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[coucouatoi]

don't want to be alone | h.s.

Pairings: Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: Divorcing the biggest superstar on the planet is the hardest thing you've ever done. Almost as hard as marrying him was.

Warnings: Angst, couples therapy, a little bit of fluff, hopeful ending

A/N: I don't know why I'm feeling so full of angst... but, please enjoy!

Flashback are in italic and present day is normal text

Boxes are littered around the house. Some full and taped shut others still being stuffed with your items. It's a slow and torturous process, having to choose what to take, what to throw out and what things are a conversation waiting to happen "That's a wedding gift from my aunt" or "When have you ever used that?" or even better "I know it was a gift, but I paid for it so i'll keep it". It's like he knows exactly which buttons to press to get the fights started. Granted you might be doing the same thing... But it doesn't make him entitled to all the belongings you've ever shared.

You've managed to find all the picture albums, the ones you decided to make for sentimental value. The ones you gifted him in tender moments. The ones filled with so much love, so much hope and promises for a future together. The ones you're now highly considering throwing into a paper shredder and tossing into the nearest incinerator. The ones you won't be able to get rid of. The anniversary album you gave him on your one year, the wedding album, the honeymoon album, the many travel albums and, of course, your daughter's first album.

Little Anya, barely 9 months old just starting to babble her first words. Chubby legs working so hard to keep her standing and exploring. She can barely take 3 steps one after the other but she's a fighter. Your little girl that is now a cause for argument, no, fights. Custody battles. The true war between yourself and your husband, Harry Styles. Neither of you want to lose or call for a tie, it's not how either of you operate in conflict. That, most likely, is the reason for the downfall of your relationship.

Frustrated you put the albums back where you found them and you head to the kitchen.

Most kitchen items have been packed up, Harry had never really invested in worthwhile cutlery or electronics of any sort. You take some orange juice from the fridge and pour a glass for yourself. The fridge itself is barren, with only the essentials left... neither of you has gone to the groceries in weeks. Today is not going to be a good day.

From the rediscovery of your love-filled albums to the boxes you've spent most of the day doing, you still have one horrible thing to do.

Couples therapy, your first-ever session. You thought, well still think, that this is too far gone to save in therapy. There won't be anything new shared that you haven't already screamed in each other's faces and self-help talks aren't exactly going to do the trick. Anne, Harry's mother, insisted that your marriage doesn't only include two people anymore. Anya makes it worth trying, she is worthy of a stable home as she grows up. No matter how unstable having a superstar parent may be, divorced parents might just add to that an unruly amount. So, you've both agreed to try. Try your very best to reassemble your love no matter how shattered it has become. Love. Love hasn't manifested itself once since about your seventh month of pregnancy. Love has vanished from your husband's once warm and inviting eyes, it no longer lingers on his fingertips and doesn't even creep into the more tender moments you must share with your baby. Love feels like a complete joke to you now.

-

The waiting room is empty of other clients which is a blessing in disguise. This is the absolute last place you'd want to run into Harries. Even if the media has already been dragging you in the mud for "breaking their dear superstar's heart" and has been making all sorts of claims about you and your marriage. In the very beginning, Harry had spoken up about these articles and had gotten his team to shut some people up but he's been losing care for... well, you.

"Harry and Y/N?" you look up meeting the eyes of who you can only assume is your therapist. Without sparring your husband a glance you get up and follow her into her office. It's cosy and smells like vanilla. There's a yellow glow to the room, it bounces off her multiple frames and decorations. Very nonthreatening, immediately putting you a little more at ease. She gestures for you to take a seat on her velvet green couch and you sit down squeezing yourself onto the left armrest. Harry does the same to the right.

"Good afternoon to you both, I am Trinity Finch. Can I get either of you something to drink before I sit down?" She smiles politely as her eyes shift between both of you. You only shake your head as an answer not trusting your stomach at the moment.

"Water if it's not too much trouble, please" Harry's voice is strained, he had been at the studio all morning probably preparing a new album you aren't aware of.

Trinity nods and quickly grabs a water bottle from a small fridge she's got right behind her desk. Harry mumbles a thank you as she hands it to him. You don't realise that his hands are shaking as you're back to looking around the room. He takes a few big gulps before your therapist gets to sit in her chair.

"Today I would just like to start with a history lesson on your relationship. How it started, all important moments, how parenthood has changed your shared life and just how you two are as a couple" She starts getting things ready around her, notebook, pens, highlighters, some sticky notes and you swear that you spotted some bright childish stickers. Her long manicured nails tap against the glass of her desk a few times as the silence stretches. Neither of you taking the first step in this session. When she looks up again she doesn't look annoyed or surprised by the lack of an answer.

"Harry, how did you meet your wife?" Trinity asks him gently.

Harry seems caught by surprise to have been asked a question directly. He looks at you briefly before turning his eyes back to her.

"Um, we meet on the plane. For some reason, my private plane for that day was not available and they booked me on a regular flight. Premium ended up being full and I got an economy seat. I had the aisle and she had the middle we ended up bonding over our shared movie choice. Then I asked her out and um here we are?" He ends with a question. As if unsure if "here" is a good thing, it's definitely not but meeting has, unfortunately, brought you both here.

"And when was this?" she asks.

"April 2018" he answers quickly. She nods presumably writing it down.

"How was your relationship before marriage Y/N?" she looks at you now with kind eyes. They are big and dark. Staring right into your soul. It makes you slightly uncomfortable but at the same time you don't want her to look away she's your lifeline right now.

"It was very easy. I work remotely as a translator and an editor, so I've always been able to tag along on his travels and tours. He, um, he always insisted that he rather have me with him even if we couldn't see each other every single day. Just knowing I was near helped him..." you sigh. You don't want to shed tears this early into your session. You don't want Harry to see you cry any more than he already has over your lost relationship.

"I really loved following him around the globe" you add, looking down at your lap willing your wet eyes to dry.

"Any fighting? How did you deal with that?" Trinity is still talking to you maybe even sensing that you're about to cry. Is that what she wants from this?

"Well, yeah. I mean all couples fight, right? We fought over the same things all the time really. I wanted more affection I guess pressuring him to take some time away from the spotlight or he wanted me all to himself whenever it worked with him without thinking of my work. Our jobs were the main reason for fighting between us" Besides you, Harry scoffs before taking another sip of water. Your head turns to him

so quickly that a sharp pain forms in the back of your neck. Your posture immediately tightens, muscles locking and your breath gets heavier.

"What? You don't agree?" you question him in a much harsher tone than you were previously using. He meets your gaze and shrugs.

"I do but that's not all we fought over" he shrugs again not looking away. Is he trying to pick a fight right now? Here of all places?

"Then what? What am I missing?" you prepare yourself for the worst. Ready to feel like absolute shit at anything he might say.

"Your constant jealousy was a contender for the most appearances in our fights" his entire expression is accusatory but he does this thing with his posture. Gets all soft and somewhat blazé making you feel inferior and so incredibly small.

You want to storm out. Call Anne to apologise that it couldn't work out and immediately sign the divorce papers that are permanently placed right on your dining table.

Not wanting to fuel this energy taking over him right now you shrug as well before facing Trinity again. She's watching both of you like a hawk, processing the way you react to conflict with each other. Making mental notes as well as some physical ones all while hostility happens between her clients.

"We'll move on from this for now. Harry, how was the wedding? How did married life change your bond?" this seemingly calms his overgrown ego. His face is neutral again but there's a softness to it now, recalling the happy days.

"We had an Italy wedding. We, I love Italy. I flew everyone out, our families and friends, and then we stayed there for a month more for our honeymoon. The wedding itself was... amazing. We kept it small. Intimate. With my life it's always been hard to have that so, it was important to us" he sounds blissful towards the last part. Probably back there now in his mind. Ah, the good old days as they say.

"I don't think married life changed us much. We were living together before that and we'd been planning it since we got together practically" he stops talking again to take another sip of water. You look at the lady in front of you again and as she begins to open her mouth to probably question him more Harry starts talking again.

"I guess tension started about a year in. The media wasn't kind to her. They made up cheating rumours on both sides and manipulated things to make them seem like something else. Someone even showed up at our old house while I was out" he took a deep breath, cracking some of his knuckles at the same time, "We were always on edge around each other. Throwing these rumours at one another just to I don't know, get a reaction? Plus, we were stuck at home because of Covid and my tour was postponed. It was a real shit show" he laughs bitterly and you nod along to what he was saying. That was just a terrible time. For everyone.

"Then I got to go on tour, Y/N didn't follow along for all of it but she was there most of the beginning. It wasn't the same as before. There was this distance that just never got better. And then she got pregnant" he almost sounds exhausted. Maybe he is, you're not sure how much he's slept lately.

-

Shit. Fuck. This can't be happening now. Shit! The word "Pregnant" seems to be mocking you as you look down at it. Mocking the fact that you and Harry have not seriously spoken in two days and that you're flying back home tomorrow. Mockingly reminding you that this can only make things worse right now.

"Y/N, come on the car is waiting downstairs" your husband's voice is weak through the thick hotel bathroom door. He's performing in Toronto tonight. The second day, the last day before he flies to New York and you go back to London.

You walk out of the bathroom, straight past Harry, not wanting him to read your face and figure out that something is terribly wrong. You slip into your shoes for the night and take a deep breath, no scratch that, a huge breath. Willing your facial expression to cooperate before you turn to him and smile.

"Let's go superstar!" he smiles back and walks over to you. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his mouth so he can plant a kiss on the back of it.

"We just might have to cancel tonight if you look this good" his free hand wraps around you tightly glueing you to his body. You know he doesn't mean it but you pretend to consider it nonetheless.

"Mh what about all your adoring fans? Won't they be so utterly crushed?" you tease against his lips. He smiles wickedly before slowly nodding.

"I do have quite the engagement this evening... how about I make it up to you after?" he presses soft kisses to the sides of your face. Framing it.

"That's a pretty good offer, I just might have to tak-"

"HARRY STYLES GET YOUR ASS OUT OF YOUR HOTEL ROOM!!" Jeff's voice is full of annoyance as it cuts you off. Rude.

You laugh before getting pulled out of the room by your husband. The small plastic stick forgotten on the washroom counter for now.

You get a harsh reminder tho when you're back at the hotel after yet another amazing concert. You're laying on the bed completely stretched out and now only dressed in your underwear. Harry's currently using the washroom to try and get some of the remaining glitter off his face when he finds the secret you've kept all evening.

"Y/N, what's this?" his voice is so shaky that you barely even understood what he asked you. However, when you look up your brain catches up. He's in his boxers, left hand in his hair and right hand holding the test like it's made of glass as he looks at it as if it's going to explode. Fuck.

"No chance that you suddenly lost the ability to read?" you try and lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. It fails.

"You're pregnant. How, I mean no I know how. Fuck, you're pregnant" he looks up at you panicked.

"We don't have to keep it" is the first thing out of your mouth. Probably as a panic response to his reaction. Not wanting this to turn into another fight.

"What?! Why wouldn't we, you don't want, I um" he takes a second. He's just breathing heavily while looking at you desperately. "You don't want to keep it?" he breathes out.

"You do?" is all you answer. You stand slowly, finding the clothes you just took off to put them back on. Whatever mood you were in is gone you're now filled with anxiety and a deep fear.

"You leave tomorrow... We won't see each other for what 3 months? In Mexico?" he hasn't moved an inch. Feet seemingly glued to the floor and limbs were frozen.

-

Pregnancy. One of the worst and best times of your life. Your gorgeous baby girl came out of all the pain you suffered. She gave a new meaning to the way you live, made you forget about all the physical pain you endured and...

"Why do you say it in that way? Like you still dread what the pregnancy brought" Trinity's voice almost startles you. You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you'd almost forgotten where you were.

"I don't! I love Anya" his voice is stern.

"What about your wife? What happened during the pregnancy?" she's digging. Wants to find the right buttons to push.

Harry stammers, but no answer seems to satisfy him. His hands are squeezed under his things, his right leg bouncing and his eyes avoiding either of you.

"We didn't plan her, I was right in the middle of my tour. We, um, we weren't doing very good and she was about to go home" he looks at you suddenly surprising you when he meets your eyes. You can't read him, can't understand what he's feeling. You haven't been able to read him in months.

"She- You, Y/N, she got really sick in February the seven-month mark. I was in Australia and I couldn't be there. It really strained us, we fought all the time over the phone and in person. I guess that's really when we went downhill" his jaw tenses when he looks away from you. Looks like he's not happy to have to have shared this with the room.

"Okay, thank you, Harry. I think now's a great time to take a breather. I'll meet both of you individually when we come back. So, see you both here in 20 minutes?" Trinity smiles at both of you and keeps smiling until you both walk out.

-

Harry doesn't come back. You wait 45 minutes in Trinity's office looking like an idiot. She dismisses you with a look of pity on her face before scheduling another appointment 5 days later, lots of work to do you assume. You rush out of the building humiliation creeping into every inch of your body. How could he do this on the first day? It was going fairly well, well you think so anyway... did he give up on your relationship right then and there?

As you make your way to your car you see him. Harry is pacing back and forth in front of his car as he seemingly argues on the phone. His free hand waves erratically in front of him, gesturing like mad for someone who can't even see him. So this is what he's been doing? Arguing over the phone while you sat in a therapist's office waiting to try and work on your ever-crumbling marriage. You scoff before turning away from him and to your car. But nothing seems to be on your side today as your husband hears you and immediately calls out to you.

"Y/N! Why are you leaving?" you hear him walk towards you, the clacking of his shoes getting closer to you but you ignore him and walk away faster.

You're completely focused on your black Subaru, the "You're so Golden" sticker catching your eye and making you more pissed off. Something that was put there because you loved the song, because of how beautiful your husband's voice is in the song but now all you want to do is rip it right off. So, that's what you do.

Your nails claw at the edges of it desperately. You don't want any reminders of Harry on your car, you don't want to think of him while putting the groceries away, while walking around the car after putting Anya in her car seat and you don't want to see it in your rearview mirror anymore. The top corner lifts as you're pulling at it giving you the perfect leverage to rip it right off. You throw it to the ground right before turning around to stare daggers into Harry's eyes.

"45 minutes, Harry. I sat there 45 minutes with our therapist looking at me like a beaten dog!" you hiss at him. He is now only about 2 or 3 feet away from you. His eyes are wide, in shock you guess, as he looks at the sticker. "What could you have possibly been doing for more than an hour that made you forget what we were here for?" you're sure you sound desperate right now. Your head is all over the place and your heart feels like it might explode out of your chest.

"An hour? I, no, that couldn't have been more than-"

"You can go back up and ask her if you want because I really really don't want to be around you right now" and now you're crying. Fuck. Why are you crying now? You need to leave.

While rummaging in your bag for your keys Harry grabs your arm. Well maybe not grabs, he just places his hand on you, resting it there delicately. If you weren't so aware of every single inch of your body right now you wouldn't have noticed. No matter how delicate the touch is supposed to be you flinch out of it aggressively.

"I'm, I'm so sorry Y/N. That was my mother, she, fuck" he sighs and runs a hand in his hair gripping it tightly. "She wants us to go up... she's rented a lake house or something I guess" his voice is so soft, shy even.

"Us? You mean you and Anya?" god you hope so.

"I'm so sorry" is all he answers.

-

Anne Twist is a very difficult woman to say no to. Actually, it's impossible to say no to her. In the many years you've known her, she's always been able to find a way to make you say yes. Always in a good way. She loves you, she has told you that countless times, and you love her but now that you're... the way you are with her son you don't know where you stand. Yet, she has still found a way to get you to agree to something you would have much rather not have gone to. You're in a small townhouse almost 4 hours away from your home in London with your mother-in-law, your daughter and your soon-to-be ex-husband. What has your life come to?

Anya is sitting in her high chair passionately eating banana slices as you watch her. She's already gobbled up the strawberries and pita bread slices she also had for her snack. She's such a good eater always so ready to try new things and taste whatever the adults around her eat. Especially the sweet treats her dad sneaks her.

"Do you want to go take a dip after huh? We should enjoy the water my love" you coo at her as she takes her final bite of food. She smiles at you like she understood what you asked and you chuckle wiping her chubby cheeks and hands. She'll be able to float around in the water for a little bit with you before you put her down for a nap. The steps of your morning are perfectly planned so that you can have your solo Zoom session with Trinity.

There is a small river behind the house you're staying in. The water goes up to just above your breast and it's the perfect warmth at this time of day. You've made your way down to it and are now setting up Anya's towel for when she'll be too tired to entertain you and ready for her mid-day snooze. She's currently lying right by you looking up at the sky with such curiosity, probably trying to figure out what the hell clouds are.

"You're so curious my love!" you shake her gently as you smile widely. "What do you see up there?" as you look up to join her sky-gazing you spot Harry making his way to the river as well. He's only got very short grey swimming trunks on meaning his entire chest, thighs, calves, and arms are out for the whole world to see. Maybe that's an exaggerated statement as you're the only one looking right now. You want to scold yourself for staring, you really really do but he's just so... so captivating and very enjoyable to look at no matter how much you resent him at the moment.

"Mind if I join you ladies?" his voice is more cheerful than when you heard it last. Must be because he's actually speaking to and looking at Anya.

However, when you don't answer his question he looks up at you. Expression now closed off again, how it's always been for the past few months. You smile politely and nod before turning your back to both of them so you can take your robe off. Your swimsuit isn't anything special; simple black one-piece that's high on the hips and low on your back. You think it looks pretty good on you but now you feel very aware of the amount of skin you're showing. You decide to just get in the water hoping its dark colour hides you. Hides away the skin your husband might be looking at.

"Looks like mummy is in a hurry, we should join her. What do you think sweetheart?" Harry picks your baby up and makes his way into the water. He holds her tightly to his chest as he climbs in, just in case he slips on the stones he uses as stairs. Once your daughter's chubby limbs meet the water her mouth forms into an adorable "O" shape. It's the second time Anya's been in the water now so she must still be unsure about this feeling. Harry turns her so that her front faces you and her back is against him. She smiles when she spots you reaching her arms out quickly which splashes some water around. She looks at you with a shocked expression and does it again with a giggle now.

"You little troublemaker! Trying to splash me!" you tease her sending some water her way. She answers with a sweet giggle and shakes her arms around as fast as she possibly can.

"Mh, my jokester gene is strong in her" Harry's voice is laced with pride. You playfully roll your eyes at him and hum affirmatively.

"And her love for singing too" you add remembering so many moments where she hums to any song playing. Her favourite thing to do is to harmonise with her father. His deep voice always gets her attention, always gets her to mumble and hum along with her own lyrics.

"Oh yes, she's the next big thing this one" he affirms kissing the top of her small head affectionately.

It's in moments like these that you tend to forget how bad it is between you. How many horrible things you've shouted at each other not caring how deep your words could cut. The accusations, the insults, the taunts and even the lies still weigh heavy on both of you. You like these softer moments, where you're reminded of how much love you both had for each other. Have? Had? You don't know anything about your feelings anymore, they are much too complicated to understand...

All three of you stay in the river for about an hour more before Anya starts yawning and fussing. When you exit the water you're quick to slip your robe back on still overly aware. Harry wraps the fluffy towel you had gotten ready around your baby. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, her eyelids already heavy as she blinks slowly. You all walk back to the house together silently. Might it be to keep the sleepy baby calm or to keep the peaceful aura around you and your husband, you don't know.

Harry insists that he will put the sleepy girl to bed and that you should take a shower first. After all, you have the first private sessions with your therapist. The mention of her does make the air in the townhouse tense again but Anne appears immediately to kiss Anya before she naps. You use that moment to sneak into your shared room with Harry. Luckily, it has two single beds so you don't have to share with him.

Signing deeply you rid yourself of the now damp robe you had on. Another blessing in disguise, this room has an en suite bathroom so you'll be able to jump right into the shower. Before that you do want to set up your laptop for the video call, you want to be as ready as you possibly can be. You grab your device from your backpack and make your way to the small desk in the corner of the room. There's a bunch of papers scattered around it, one glance at them and you immediately know what they are.

Lyrics. Drafts of songs and melodies written by your rockstar husband. You don't mean to read any of the words you really don't but as soon as you spot your name at the top of one of the pages you're doomed. You put your laptop down on Harry's bed which is right next to the desk and reach for that exact paper.

The words you read are full of longing, pain, sadness and fear. They mourn love, they are mourning your love. You pick up another sheet of paper, this one has no title but there are so many lines written. This one is reeks of self-hatred, of shame and guilt... it shakes the weak barriers you've built around your heart. All of the lyrics you read on different papers revolve around the same emotions. These are all about your relationship. About the death of it. About his desire to turn around. You don't realise you're crying until a tear falls onto the paper you hold. The ink bleeds into itself where it's been wet blurring the words slightly. You quickly wipe your face and put the papers down. You shouldn't be looking at these, you're invading his privacy.

"Thought you were showering" Harry's voice startles you out of the chair. You meet the floor with a loud thud. Your tear-filled eyes meet his sharp ones. Scrambling up to your feet you grab your laptop ready to explain, ready to apologise over and over again.

"At least tell me what you think" he sighs walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. This shocks you. What does he mean? He, he's not mad? Isn't disappointed that you invaded his creative space? Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsure what you should answer.

"I'm sorry" is all you're able to get out. Your brain is blank in absolute fear but tears keep falling from your eyes.

"I should be apologising... you, you weren't supposed to see those" he walks in your direction slowly, testing the waters of how close you'll let him get. He's closer than arm's reach when you flinch backwards slightly and he stops immediately.

"I was going to ask you for your permission before making any of those full songs but you know music is how I cope" he whispers now that he's so close to you. Silence takes over the room again, stretching out for too long. Your eyes somehow keep producing tears as you try and speak. Hopelessly searching for words to say.

"Do you really miss us? You miss me?" is what you come up with, your voice is so shaky that you're on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably.

This shocks Harry in place, seemingly not prepared for that kind of questioning from you. His mouth gapes and his eyes grow wide. This time you do see his hands start shaking. You're not entirely sure what this emotion is.

"Of course I do. Did you not think so?" while still whispering he reaches out to hold you but stops himself hands falling at his sides.

"Yo- Harry, you asked for the divorce. How was I supposed to know you miss me?" your voice breaks. You don't understand, why is this happening now, why is he saying these things?

-

"We should just get a divorce" Harry snaps at you as he fights back tears. Your expression immediately closes up, your body reacting before your thoughts and words do. Protecting you from what he just said, building walls around you and your heart as quickly as possible.

"Fine" you spit out as you turn away from him and walk straight out of your bedroom. If that's what he wants then so be it. You won't beg for anything now that he's made his decision.

-

"I know, okay? I know that I asked for it and that it's the reason why you don't talk to me anymore. Well, you do but not really" he sighs and sits down on his bed, damn swim trunks wetting the bed "We talk about Anya and when we're not we are yelling at each other... so when was I supposed to tell you that I missed you? That I regretted asking for the divorce..." he looks at you with a guilty expression, all his emotions are coming up at once.

"Why did you ask for it?" you ask him sitting back on the desk chair with your laptop still in your hands.

"I got in my head. You were saying we should take some time for ourselves maybe live apart... with everything that kept being said about us, I got so scared" he takes your laptop out of your grip and puts it down next to him.

"I thought you were going to fight me on it..." he adds as he grabs your hands tenderly. Like he's afraid you'll break.

You shake your head in disbelief not sure what to say. Your thoughts are all over the place, what should you make of this?

"It broke my heart" When did his face get so close to yours? You should really move away. You can't fall back into him, you can't let yourself do that. So you pull away from him roughly, your hands tugging out of his hold, face moving to the side, a sob making its way out of you as your back meets the chair-back.

When you meet Harry's eyes you can see the pain, the hurt, in them. They are brimming with tears that are so close to spilling out.

"Are we... are we too broken?" his voice has dropped to a whisper. He sounds so sad and scared.

"I'm worried" You take in a few breaths before you speak again, "What if we just end up hurting each other again? What if we can't go back?" you choke out the last few words. Tears spill endlessly out of your eyes and sobs rack your entire body.

It feels like you're running out of air and the little bits you get in are painful. Your eyes burn as you cry and your hands are shaking like crazy.

Harry might be answering or trying to communicate but nothing is making its way past your meltdown. What does make it through is the feeling of his arms around you. Him pulling you against his chest tightly, immediately rubbing your back as soothingly as he can. Your hands are grabbing his still bare skin desperately, wanting to anchor yourself in any way you can. Your face rests on his peck, right above his heart, the frantic beating bouncing around your head.

"Breathe, you have to breathe love" he speaks delicately in your ear, breaking through the barrier your body has put up.

"I'm- I'm, I can't... Harry I can't" your clawing at him almost trying to get under his skin, someplace you might be able to understand everything that's going through his mind.

He wiggles around a little before laying you both down as he keeps reassuring and encouraging you. He drags you on top of him your face now pressed up against the juncture of his neck. Your left-hand makes its way into his hair, pulling at it as softly as you can manage. Harry's hands run up and down your back, your arms, and your neck and he even pets your hair delicately. He's always known how to best calm you down... how to bring you back down to earth and out of the panic attacks you sometimes get when you're overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he repeats that over and over with a pained desperation. Harry's scared shitless too. He doesn't know how things will go with your relationship. He can't guarantee that you won't end up actually wanting a divorce one day... But he can love you. He has and will keep loving you. He hopes it'll be enough to save your marriage. He'll work incredibly hard every single day to prove his love for you... if you let him back in he won't ever let you go. He'll leave it all up to you. Your little family is all he needs, he'll spend the rest of his life proving that to you if that's what it takes.

[revelboo]

Maybe some optimus, metroplex, or tfp ratchet pretty please🙏 I have no special reason bc you always make sure we're fed regularly I'm just addicted to them💅 *looping around your legs like a cat and you're holding the treat bag*

Also I am floored over some(all tbh) of the other characters recent chapters and just how many different paths all these stories are on and how well they all flow like do you somehow have extra storage space in your brain??? Where can I get the update installed for myself😂how the hell are you sorting all these bc you may pump them out fast but thats still like a lot of things to track😅 plz tell me you have a comically large brick of sticky notes you're slowly going through bc otherwise real talk if youre just rawdogging this all by memory plz ignore the request and give your brain a rest🙏we ly but plz make sure to take breaks with lots of snacks and sleep💗

Nah, I just keep track of them in my head. I’m weird like that 😅 I’m doing better now. First day I’ve woken up without a headache in two weeks

I Can Feel You Pt 11

Metroplex x Reader

• Rasping softly, brows creasing in frustration that he can’t speak. Still. Keeps his head turned toward where you’re sitting on a table with Ratchet’s tools as the medic works to repair the drone’s damaged systems. To give him a voice again. Something pulls, hurts and there’s a burst of staticky noise. “Little one,” he says, not his voice, but his words. And you stand, little fingers fisted in the blanket Ratchet has given you. “I think everything should be back online now, but take it easy. This drone’s been inactive for centuries,” Ratchet says. But he’s not listening, focused on you as he mass shifts the drone to your size, the energy strain slamming through him in drowning pain. Crippling him and severing the connection to the drone. Hearing Ratchet’s frustrated, “What did I just say?”

• Visor dimming, the drone sags. “Metroplex?” Looking from him to Ratchet when the medic vents tiredly. “Is he gone again?” Nodding, the medic slams down a tool a bit rougher than necessary. “Can I sit with him until he comes back? Please,” you add as he frowns at you.

• “Probably not a good idea. Any involuntary movement could hurt you even at that size,” he mutters so you content yourself with sitting on the edge of the table, legs dangling. “We should at least get some answers,” he grumbles. “No matter how much damage we repair, he’s rerouting energy somewhere and staying critically low.” Hesitating as he begins cleaning his tools, he looks at you, expression critical. “Hound told me you’d said the Titan was speaking to you.”

• Face heating at the memory that speaking isn’t all you’d done, you shrug weakly. “He was lonely. I started talking to him first.” Because you’d been lonely, too. Overlooked a lot of the time by the Autobots just because you’re so small, an after thought most of the time. Easily forgotten. But Metroplex had heard you, seen you. Reached out in return. Echoing your loneliness and halving it.

• Again. Frustrated as he retreats deeper into himself, knows he needs to build energy again. Be patient. But the drone is there with you. It’s mass displaced. These are steps forward, not stumbles. He just has to remain on course. You’re waiting for him. You’ll be right there. He needs to believe it, desperate to hold you in his arms even if they’re borrowed. To recharge with your heartbeat against him, to hear your soft voice and to be able to answer. Wants to hear about your day, your dreams, everything. And he’s getting closer to that goal. Closer to you.

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Amusing myself all the way to Pier Park leaving notes

[tpwk-formula1]

I saw your Drabble ideas 🥵

What about Lance Stroll ( I know he has like 10 fans but stay with me) with a pregnancy/lactation kink 🥵🥵 he’s really been on my mind lately

AN: I'm ngl Im not really a Lance girlie but I loved writing this so I hope you guys love it too!

TW: MDNI 18+ Lacation/ pregnancy kink. nipple orgams

WC: 950+

Y/N POV

Being 8 months pregnant in the middle of an F1 season is not necessarily ideal but Lance is finally on summer break which means for the next two weeks we get to do nothing but relax in Montreal before he has to go back to work.

"I think I'm starting to produce," I comment while rubbing my sensitive boobs softly.

"Oh, really?" Lance says while walking towards me to meet me in the middle of the room. When he gets close enough he's already rubbing my very swollen belly.

"Ya, Ive leaked through a couple shirts already and it's only 2 in the afternoon," I whine getting frustrated with going through so much laundry.

"Just wear nothing than," Lance smirks while jokingly pulling at the end of the Aston Martin shirt I had thrown on. I jokingly send him a glare but when he leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips I kind of just melt into his touch.

"I'm mostly joking, but what about one of your nursing bras with some breast pads in them," Lance says softly while still rubbing soothing circles on my bump.

"I tried that earlier but the pads where rubbing against my nipples too much and it was making them too sensitive," I respond which only makes Lance look at me with a soft smirk.

"Sensitive huh?" Lance comments which makes me look at him with a raised brow.

"Bet I could make you cum with just a little bit of nipple play," Lance comments with a smirk knowing I've been extra horny since being pregnant and it really doesn't take much to cum for him anymore. But just nipple play? I doubt it plus I was leaking which would make it all too messy, which makes me shake my head at the thought but the thought of it has my pussy slightly throbbing.

"You're thinking about it aren't you?" Lance teases making me look him in the eye and nod softly. Lance takes this as his chance to softly pull my shirt over my head leaving my top half completely bare given I hadn't put a bra on after leaking through the first one.

As soon as the air hits my already sensitive nipples I can feel a bead of my milk pebble out making Lance look at it before gently rubbing his thumb over it making me whimper at the touch.

"Oh I'm gonna have you cumming in the next 10 minutes," Lance smirks when he seems how sensitive they really are. He brings up the thumb that's gently coded in my milk before bringing it up to his mouth and sucking it off making me grow red in embarrassment but when I see Lance close his eyes and enjoy the taste I can't help but grow weak in the knees.

"Tastes so good baby," Lance says softly while pushing me towards the bed and gently laying me down on my back while he climbs into the bed next to me.

"Look so fucking pretty like this," Lance keeps praising while rubbing my swollen bump before slowly bringing his hand up to my slightly leaking nipples.

"Oh fuck," I moan gently when Lance pinches my nipples making more milk leak out. I can feel the pleasure from my nipples going straight to my pussy.

I feel Lance start kissing my shoulder and slowly moving closer and to my nipples where he instantly latched his mouth onto my right nipple while still teasing my lift one.

"Mmmm, so good," Lance mumbles when he gets a weak stream of milk filling his mouth. While Lance is sucking on my right nipple he keeps playing with my left leaving me a whimpering mess under his touch.

"Lance," I moan softly when I feel myself really starting to dampen my panties wanting to touch myself.

"More Lance please," I whine trying to push Lance's hand towards the waistband of my pants but he keeps a firm pinch on my nipples making me whimper at the feeling.

"I said I was making you cum just by playing with your nipples," Lance says before leaning back down and taking my nipples back into his mouth while giving it a small bite knowing how much I love a little pain mixed with my pleasure.

I could tell that I really was gonna be able to cum like this if Lance kept playing with me like this.

"Shit, Lance," I moan when he keeps pinching my left nipple between his fingers making me whimper when he starts pulling at them while pinching.

"Lance," I whine a little louder when I feel myself nearly the edge of my orgasm which quickly has Lance shifting slightly so he can take my left nipple into his mouth and start pinching my right nipple instead making me gasps as I feel the milk in my left milk start to spray out slightly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I start loudly moaning as I feel myself starting to fall over the edge.

Thats when Lance gently bites down on my nipple and tugs it's between his teeth while pinching and pulling my other nipple helping me ride out one of the more intense orgasms he has given me while pregnant.

"Oh! Lance," I cry as I relax into the waves of my orgasm.

Once I slowly start coming down from my orgasm Lance gently releases me nipples but brings his mouth back towards each one giving it a gently suck to help sooth any pain he might have caused.

"I'm not gonna lie, you taste divine," Lance says with a smile playing on his lips before he leans down and gives me a gently kiss on the lips.

-----------

The end! I hope you enjoyed!

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> you do too much

word count: 3.7k TW: body image, overworking, swearing, angst italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

Cyana never meant for it to get this far.

It had started off pretty mild, she'd wake up earlier than usual, take a morning run to the company and get a head start on practice. She'd stay later than the others too, insisting they go home without her and that she'd join them a bit later. Just one more time, she'd say, as she cued up the song once again. Just one more time, she'd say again after that, and by then it would already be close to midnight.

She stared at herself in the mirror, shaking with frustration and fatigue. Her chest heaved harshly as she tried desperately to calm her breath.

Hoshi shot her a worried glance. "Nana, take a break."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Practice is done anyways. The car's ready, pack up." He grabbed her hand to drag her towards their things.

Cyana shook her hand out from his grasp, shooting him a tired smile. "You can go first, Soonie. I'll stay a little bit longer. I want to try Getting Closer again."

Hoshi frowned at her words. "We've already stayed late, nana-yah. Everyone's already left. And you've been staying late for the past two weeks. Let's take a break, okay?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "It's fine, really."

He looked at her apprehensively, not quite believing her. Sighing, he reluctantly agreed, knowing there was no stopping her. "Please be home by at least two am."

She nodded absentmindedly, already turning back around to cue up the track. She made sure Hoshi really had left before continuing, concentrating on perfecting her angles and facial expression. She had failed the company test - when the higher-ups came and decided she wasn't good enough - her ego burned from the hit and she vowed to work even harder. The members had told her she was already amazing, but she couldn't believe them if the company officials didn't think so.

She hadn't told any of the boys she hadn't been returning home. Most of her essentials were stored safely in one of the drawers in their practice room - saving her both the time and energy it took to return home. This way she could wash up and change before immediately getting back to practice.

"Oh, Jeonghan oppa." She answered when he called her phone.

"Nana, where are you?" His voice sounded muffled and tired. "Hoshi texted and said you're still at the company."

She checked the time. 3:26 AM. "Oh. I decided to crash at Mingyu's place." She lied, wincing. She hated lying to him whenever he called to check in. It was pure luck that no one really ever confirmed with Mingyu that she had actually been staying over. "I'm about to go to sleep. You should too, oppa."

She heard Jeonghan sigh in relief. "Okay, good. Goodnight, Nana." He hung up, probably way too tired.

Placing her phone back down on the floor, she glanced once again at the time. It was late. Her body was sore and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. Dragging her feet towards the connected washroom, she was glad they'd installed showers. Cleaning herself up and changing, she returned back to the practice room and crashed on the couch. Just a couple hours, she thought to herself.

"Cyana."

She opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness and letting out a groan. "What time is it?"

A very confused Dino stared back at her. "7 AM." He helped her to sit up, frowning when he saw her wince. "Why are you sleeping here?"

Her eyes widened when she remembered where she was. She inwardly kicked herself for oversleeping. Usually she was able to wake up, get ready and change before everyone else began arriving. They always just assumed she had been the first to arrive. "I-" Feeling rather caught, Cyana could only stare up at Dino wordlessly.

He seemed to catch on rather quickly. "Cyana." He looked at her, disappointment written plainly across his face. "Have you been living here?"

"No!" She protested, knowing he'd 100% tell Jeonghan if she admitted to it and Jeonghan would 100% kill her. "I was just practicing last night and fell asleep, that's all."

He gave her a weird look. "Alright, just-" He sighed. "You really don't need to be pushing yourself so hard. You're already ready."

Cyana gave him a hard stare. Perhaps it was the pain or the lack of sleep, but her nerves were wearing thin. She pushed herself off the couch, walking to the washroom. Splashing water on her face, she attempted to wake herself up.

"Please don't tell the others." She begged Dino once she returned. "Please please please." He looked unconvinced. "Please." She said again. "They'll kill me and you know it."

He sighed. "Fine." He pointed a finger at her, his poor attempt at being stern. "But you've got to promise me it's the last time."

"Got it." She promised, although she knew she'd probably end up breaking it. "Thanks, Chan."

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms gently around her waist, frowning when he felt how skinny she had gotten. He was about to comment on it when the practice doors opened and a hoard of members rushed in, all still slightly half-asleep.

"Aigoo~" Seungkwan cooed at the position they'd caught them in. "Our maknaes are so cute."

Dino flushed, trying to pull away but pausing when he realized Cyana was leaning on him, her eyes closed.

"Is she okay?" Jun mumbled, sipping on his ice coffee and glancing at the girl.

"Hm?" Cyana opened an eye, jumping a bit at the sudden appearance of so many people. "Oh! You're all here."

"Yup." Vernon walked over, ruffling her hair. "You ready?"

She sighed, reluctantly detaching herself from Dino, shivering at the loss of his body heat. "I guess."

Jeonghan had thought something was off from the way Cyana sounded over the phone. She sounded sick and incredibly out of it, her words slurring slightly as she spoke to him. He would've pressed the girl for more answers, but Hoshi's text had woken him up mid-sleep and he was aching to the state of passing out.

Even as they started practice, Jeonghan's mind drifted from the choreo over to Cyana. His mental list of things wrong with her had been gradually growing over the week and he was getting concerned.

Jeonghan's mental list with things that are wrong about Cyana:

She's been saying over at Mingyu's a suspicious amount. Sure, he could understand, the Minwon residence was easily the quietest out of the bunch, and Mingyu was Cyana's closest friend. He figured Wonwoo was in his room most times anyways.

The amount of canceled plans the boys have been complaining about to him was increasing. It felt like every couple days, at least one member would approach him requesting a therapy session, where they just complained about how Cyana was ditching them for their usual hangouts.

He rarely ever saw the girl anywhere but the company. Under any other circumstance it would've been normal, but Cyana had expressed before she hated the feeling of captivity the company gave her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat something.

He could've continued listing reasons in his head, had it not been for the loud thud and a piercing screech that followed it. He froze mid dance move and spun towards the noise.

Cyana was on the floor, Woozi a mere step away from her as he crouched down to examine her. DK was apologizing for the loud scream, although he continued to panic loudly.

"I think she fainted." Woozi concluded, voice calm. His furrowed eyebrows were the only sign he was worried.

"Fainted?" DK gasped out loud.

Mingyu reached down and scooped the girl into his arms, depositing her on the couch. "Yeah, she's out."

"Is she injured?" Seungcheol asked, hovering over her as Mingyu checked. He sighed with relief when Mingyu shook his head. "It was a loud thud."

Jeonghan let out a groan of both realization and disappointment.

"What." Seungcheol whipped his head around at the sound of Jeonghan's groan. "Do you know something?" He pointed at Cyana, who was still laying limply on the couch, head supported by Mingyu's large hand. "Why is she like this?"

Jeonghan raised his hands in defence. "I only suspected. I mean- I thought it was weird she was sleeping over at Mingyu and Wonwoo's so often recently but-"

"What?" Wonwoo cut him off. "She hasn't been over since-" He flushed at the memory. "Since she hurt her ankle."

And all at once, the pieces seemed to fall into place in Jeonghan's mind.

"She's been living here, hasn't she." Dino beat him to the punch, stating what he had just realized. "I found her here asleep when I came in this morning."

They all turned to Seungcheol, who seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at Cyana.

Cyana awoke just in time to see Seungcheol leave, the practice room door swinging shut behind him. She struggled to get up, as strong hands grabbed her and situated her to lean back. A bottle of water was shoved wordlessly into her hands by Vernon, already opened.

"You scared us." Mingyu muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She was vaguely aware of the other boys standing around her. Her ears still rang but she could faintly hear Woozi talking to Jun.

"I swear I tried to catch her. I didn't let her drop on purpose." He was defending himself to a wary Jun. "I'm not that mean."

She would have smiled at how defensive he sounded had it not been for the glowering face of Jeonghan, who was staring holes into her skull.

"Everyone out, please." Jeonghan signalled the others to give them the room. He sat down next to Cyana, letting out a loud sigh once everyone had left.

She knew she was in for it now.

"You wanna tell me what's been going on?" He said quietly, rubbing the seam of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger. "No lies this time."

She felt a lump form in her throat. "Jeonghan-"

"I'm not mad, Cyana." He looked at her sadly. "I just want to know why you haven't been taking care of yourself."

On any other occasion, she would have argued that he was mad. He hadn't used 'Nana' when saying her name.

"You haven't been staying at Mingyu's, I know that for a fact. And you've been canceling plans with the members. You also haven't been eating well. Jun says you rarely take the breakfast he sets aside for you." He continued, frowning when he saw her eyes well up with tears.

"I'm sorry." It was all she could muster.

"I don't care that you lied, Cyana." Jeonghan wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. "Just tell me why. Are we doing something wrong?"

She shook her head frantically. "No." God no.

"Then why?"

She finally looked up from her lap to see him, feeling an ache in her chest when she saw how desperate his expression was.

"The company officials-" She paused, and Jeonghan nodded for her to go on. "they said I wasn't good enough. Not quite good enough to debut with seventeen. They said they had a lot bet on me but I was disappointing them."

She got worried when he stayed silent. "Oppa?" She whispered, reaching out tentatively to shake him.

He laced his hand in hers before she could reach him. "I'm sorry they said all that." He turned to look at her, a serious expression taking over his face. "But you know they're wrong, and even if you think they're right, you shouldn't have risked your own health like that."

Cyana nodded. "I know. I just-" She tried to find the words to explain. "I just wanted to debut so badly. I wanted to look good onstage next to all of you." It was a lame explanation but it was the best she could give.

"I know." Jeonghan nodded. "And you will." He pointed at the large mirrors on the wall in front of where they sat. "I watch you dance with us everyday through those mirrors. And you look beautiful. Full of talent and raw power."

She let out a shaky breath.

"Is that why you haven't been eating your meals?" He asked, looking back at her. "Did they say something about that too?"

She nodded. It was perhaps the comment that had hurt her the most. "They said I looked too heavy. That I was supposed to be a girl member. Not a boy."

Jeonghan let out a huff. "Who the fuck-" He muttered, almost to himself. "Give me the names of the people, I'll talk to them."

Cyana smiled despite the heavy setting. "They're higher-ups, Hannie. You can't do anything."

"Psh." Jeonghan waved away her concern. "Still. I'll write their names down and get rid of them once we're big enough."

She supposed she admired his optimism. "Okay." She relented. "I'll find their names and text them to you."

Jeonghan leaned his head on the crook of her shoulder, slouching a bit to reach it. "You know we love you, right?"

She didn't say anything.

"You don't have to believe it now." He said softly. "I know you're a bit weird about stuff like that." He squeezed her hand firmly. "Just need you to hear it."

She nodded. "Okay."

They sat in silence for awhile, and Cyana's ears stopped ringing. "Where did Seungcheol-oppa go?" She whispered, curious but not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment.

Jeonghan cracked an eye open from his spot on her shoulder. "He's dealing with it his own way."

"Dealing with what?"

He sat up straight to look at her. "You fainting. He's our leader, he's going to feel the responsibility."

She frowned. "It's not his fault though."

Jeonghan shrugged. "It's just how he works. He's going to blame himself for not noticing it all sooner either way. Even if it's not his fault."

She stood up, swaying a bit before steadying herself. "I'm gonna go look for him, is that okay?"

She could swear Jeonghan was smirking a little. "I think he'd like that."

She found him in one of the empty studios. Seungcheol was sitting on one of the chairs when she walked in, head in his hands. He got up quickly once he heard the sound of her footsteps.

"Cyana." He breathed out, thankful she was okay. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She whispered, sitting down and motioning gently for him to join her. She watched him hesitate before he sat down next to her.

"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard." Seungcheol scolded her.

"I know."

"And you should've told someone you weren't going back to the dorm. You should've let me know how much you were struggling."

"I know."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Tell me what happened. Everything leading up to today. I assume this has been going on for awhile."

She could tell from his face he meant business, so she told him without a fight. She recited everything - the skipped meals, the ditching hangouts, the sleeping in the practice room, the toothbrush and skincare hidden in the drawers - all of it. She saw his face twist in pain when she got to the part about the company officials.

"You should've told me." He whispered, once she was all done.

"I thought perhaps you didn't want to know." She admitted.

He looked astonished she would even say such a thing. His mouth opened and closed again as he reconsidered his choice of words. "I'm your leader, Cyana. I care about this team."

"And I'm doing my job." She said, not getting what he meant. Wasn't SEVENTEEN doing quite well? And the team would do even better if she was perfect for the comeback.

Seungcheol didn't know if he wanted to strangle her and cry. "Let me reiterate." He looked at her. "I care about you, Cyana. Not the comeback."

She blinked. "Oh."

He felt more like crying, Seungcheol decided. She looked so fragile and confused at the mere thought of him even caring about her. A burning sense of rage fuelled through him. Who on earth had taught her to be so skeptical of care and love?

Cyana panicked when she saw the tears in Seungcheol's eyes. "Please don't cry." She whispered frantically, not knowing what would happen to her if she saw the dependable and strong Seungcheol break down.

"Our maknae~" Seungcheol whispered back, reaching over to brush his hand against her cheek. "Maybe I didn't do well enough, to show you you belong here. I tried being a strong leader, guiding everyone through the comeback, letting you adjust to how busy life in SEVENTEEN can be. But maybe you needed more of a gentle touch? Something more personal?" At this point he seemed to be talking to himself. "I know I didn't really take the time to connect with you on a deeper level like the others did. I was so focused on guiding you through work. I must've done something wrong, if you felt like you needed to hide this much from me. Push yourself this far."

Cyana's lips trembled as she desperately held back tears. "It's not your fault."

"It is." Seungcheol corrected her quietly. "I always strived to be a leader you could tell anything to." He paused, looking at her with sad eyes. "I'm sorry you felt the need to break yourself so much to make this comeback happen. I'm sorry the company said such harsh things. I should've noticed."

Cyana felt the sudden strong urge to give him a hug. It confused her. She only ever felt comfortable enough to initiate any sort of contact with Jeonghan, Dino, Joshua or Mingyu. Yet, when Seungcheol finished his speech and looked at Cyana with those sad, wide eyes, she decided perhaps she could make an exception. She leaned slightly in his side, stiffing slightly when his arms wrapped around her frame.

"It's not your fault." She managed to say again, telling herself to relax into his hold.

"I know it's not logical."

Cyana let out a breathy laugh. "I am sorry I lied to Jeonghan."

"I know." Seungcheol pulled her a little closer. "Please don't ever do this again. All of it. You're much more important than a silly comeback."

She nodded. "I won't."

"I'll talk with the company about the whole test thing. They shouldn't have done that, or said those things. And you need to start eating." Now that he was hugging her, he could feel just how malnourished she was. He felt as if he could accidentally snap her just by moving the wrong way. "I'll talk to the stylists too. Everyone needs a good reminder that you're part of SEVENTEEN forever."

Cyana's face flushed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, feeling bad for making him so worried. "I didn't know it'd hurt you so much."

Seungcheol let her go, giving her a sad look. "I hated seeing you like that. You were so pale and fragile."

She didn't know what to do with the amount of loving words she was receiving today. She looked away awkwardly. "I'll be more careful now, I promise."

She could hear the smile that overtook his face despite not looking at him. "Good." He said. "Start getting it into your head that you're important."

Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol monitored her as she cleared out her drawer and any other sign that she had been living in the practice room. She promised them both that she'd return everything back home and that she'd keep them there.

"You scared me." DK whined. "I thought you'd died."

Cyana was grateful at how lighthearted the atmosphere was once her and Seungcheol had returned to the practice room. Everyone was still obviously worried, but they seemed to have all decided not to sour the mood further. Everyone had noticed the watery eyes from both Cyana and Seungcheol as they returned but pretended not to.

"I'm sorry~" Cyana smiled at DK's dramatics.

"Ah, hyung- it was your scream that scared me the most." Dino butted in, cackling at the memory. "I was mid move and I heard a blood-curdling cry. I thought I was in a horror movie."

The others laughed along, each of them relating to the younger boy.

Joshua sidled up to Cyana amidst the chaos Dino's remark had brought, holding her waist to support her as his eyes roamed her face for any sign of lingering fatigue. "You sure you're alright?"

Cyana nodded, grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. "Yeah. Sorry."

He shook his head. "No more apologizing. Just join Hoshi, Seungkwan, Myungho and I for dinner later today, okay? We're going to check out this new restaurant Hoshi found online."

"Okay."

From the other side of the room, Seungcheol clapped for everyone's attention. "Okay! We're resuming practice!" He looked at Cyana. "You're going home." He pointed at her. "Don't argue with me."

"What?" She protested. She was feeling fine. "I'm fine!" She insisted.

Her remark was met by a roomful of protests, even Woozi and Wonwoo joined in as everyone told her to get the fuck home.

"No really!" She protested again once the noise died down. "Please, Coups-oppa. I won't push myself too hard, promise."

She watched him think it over. She could practically see it as he fought himself. "Fine." He finally relented. "But-"

She paused her celebration.

"You're sitting out for practice. You can watch and take notes, but no dancing."

She sighed, but she knew it was the best she was getting out of him. "Fine."

As she sat on the couch, notebook in hand as she took notes on the performance, she couldn't help but glance towards their leader. He was working hard, giving 120% like he did with everything he put his mind to. She felt a glow of gratitude towards him. For a second, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she did belong here, with these people. And perhaps him and Jeonghan were right - those people had just been mean and she was already good the way she was.

author's note: wahhhh thank you so much for reading! this one was quite a ride - writing about scoups as the leader always sends tears to my eyes, we truly don't deserve him. next fic is cyana's debut fic (finally!)

[nofingjustaninchident]

i need marriage au jason so bad, he’d be such a good hubby

ᯓ★ next to you

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x fem!reader

summary just jason being the most awesome lovey dovey person in the world and you breaking down

warnings angst/comfort, a little too fluffy

authors note is that… me??? posting again??? i’m in shock. literally this ask is from my jason event almost three months ago i’m so so sorry

now listening to die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jason spent the day at home, enjoying the peace and quiet of their cozy apartment. He’d gotten up early, tidied the place, and then decided to surprise y/n with something special. He knew how stressful her job could be, and he wanted to make her happy, especially if she had a rough day.  

He wanted to do something that would bring a smile to her face the moment she walked through the door. After a bit of thought, he decided to bake her favorite cookies - soft, gooey, and loaded with chocolate chips. He remembered how much she loved them, especially when they were fresh out of the oven, still warm and melty. 

As he knew that she’d take a little while to get home, he decided to walk down the street to their favorite flower shop. He bought a bouquet of her favorite flowers. After, he went to the store and bought everything they needed for the week so she didn’t have to worry about doing it later, and walked back home.  

As the evening approached, he baked the cookies and made sure they were just the way she likes it. When he heard the key turning in the lock, he was pulling the last batch out from the oven.  

y/n stepped inside; her shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. The weight of the day was evident in her eyes, and Jason’s heart ached to see her like that. But as soon as she looked up and saw him standing there, holding the tray of freshly baked cookies, her expression changed. 

He gave her an awkward smile as he put the tray on the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, you’re early. I didn’t have time to clean the house, but I restocked the things we needed and I-” he said, smiling as he grabbed the bouquet and offered it to her. “bought you flowers.”  

“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of warmth. He gave her the biggest, brightest smile, hoping it would lift her spirits. 

y/n was frozen for a moment, her eyes welling up with tears. The sight of Jason, the scent of the cookies, the flowers and the sheer love behind something so trivial - it was too much. The stress, the frustration, the exhaustion - all of it came crashing down at once. 

Without a word, she dropped her bag and rushed into his arms, burying her face in his chest as the tears finally spilled over. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried, whispering soothing words into her hair.  

He didn’t quite understand why she was crying, but he just held her close. “Hey, it’s okay. I've got you.”  

Her sobs were muffled against his shirt, but Jason could feel the tension in her body slowly melting away as she clung to him. He rocked her gently, letting her release all the emotions she had been holding in throughout the day. 

After a few moments, y/n pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked up at Jason, her cheeks flushed and eyes red from crying, but there was a small, grateful smile on her lips. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky but sincere. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

He cupped her cheeks, squeezing her face and kissing her forehead, then her nose, then his lips. “You’ll never have to thank me for this. I'm your husband. And, just like I said in that altar two years ago, I'm with you for better or worse, sickness or health. It doesn't matter if you’re having the worst or the best day of your life. I just want to make it better, always.”  

She let out a watery laugh and kissed him, the salty taste of tears mixing to their mouths. When they finally broke apart, she kept their foreheads touching for a little while and pecked his lips one more time.  

“My days are always better when I'm with you.” She muttered.  

[lizzieisright]

Alpha!Abby is such an oddly specific thing to write about, thank you for your service.

I've never sent a request to anyone ever before but I wanted to ask if you can write more alpha!abby.

Ahahaha, it will make more sense if you know that I spent my formative years in SPN and Teen wolf fandoms when they were at their peak, and in and out of kpop fandoms as well. (+ I worked on og story with omegaverse because I wanted wlw with a strong omega lead, which led to me getting really in depth with a/b/o, and now I'm quite fond of it)

Palestine: what can you do

Fri(end)s pt 2

alpha!abby x omega!reader

Summary: after you start dating, the question of sex comes up and Abby finds out you have 0 (zero) experience. So Abby, being an amazing partner, guides you through everything.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), virgin!reader, no hurt only comfort, communication, they're incredibly comfortable with each other. for smut: dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering (r!receiving), penetrative sex (r!receiving).

a/n: it's a mammoth (8k). I know. I don't know how it happened.

tags: @ushijimaswife-77

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's no such a big difference between being friends with Abby and dating Abby. It might sound good since you're already super comfortable with each other, but being friends for so long with an alpha who is a player leaves its marks. 

You constantly forget you have a claim on Abby. You see other omegas look at her, smell her, and you don't remember that you are her omega, not other people - you just chuckle and do nothing about it. 

Abby gets confused because she can't stop fucking glaring at other alphas - but Abby is a possessive asshole, she knew it would happen. Still, you don't act like you're a couple sometimes, and it kinda hurts. 

Abby watches how once again you freeze when another omega looks at her, your scent going just a bit sour, but you still do nothing, and Abby presses down her frustration. 

It hits her only after two weeks of you doing it, why you’re doing it. She realises it when you two are sitting in her living room, drinking wine and chatting, like always, and when she does, she is filled with desire to tease you. 

“I have a question.” Abby asks with a cocky grin, and you roll your eyes fondly. “You know you can scent me, right?”

Your eyes go comically big before you understand what she is saying, but then you avoid looking at her - not in a bad manner, but more like you want to hide from her.

“Um. Yeah. Right.” Abby laughs kindly and tugs you so you could sit on her lap. You're clearly embarrassed by your own obliviousness, and Abby wants to tease you so bad. 

“Since we're dating? And I literally told you I'm yours?” You groan and Abby laughs harder. 

“I'm so used to you fucking every pretty omega you see, my mind hasn't caught up yet.” You mutter, trying to defend yourself, but Abby's pretty laugh makes you smile. “Did it upset you?”

“A little. But I knew you wouldn't be cruel like this to me, so I figured you had a different reason.”

Your heart breaks a little and you take Abby's face into your palms, staring into her pretty blue eyes, while her arms are wrapped around your back. 

“I love you.” You say with all your soul. 

Abby blinks, her mouth falls open. She blinks again. Then her whole face goes red. You giggle and kiss her forehead. 

“Thank you.” Abby says eventually and you laugh harder. 

“What kind of response is this?” 

Abby blinks and buries her face in your shoulder, embarrassed.

 “I love you too. And I'm thankful for your love.” 

You giggle and kiss Abby, pressing closer to her as her scent envelopes both of you. Abby holds you so tightly you can't take a full breath, but you don't care, you like being close to her. 

You break the kiss and very tentatively, as if you expect Abby to stop you, rub against her scent glands. Abby's fingers dig into your ass and she sighs, her voice low. The room starts smelling like arousal and Abby chuckles. 

“Have you caught up on the fact that I really want to fuck you or do you need more explicit confirmation for it as well?”

Your face burns with Abby's every word, but then there's a sudden smell of anxiety that makes Abby slow down. 

“We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.” She reassures you, her hand caressing your back to bring you some comfort. Abby really doesn't like being a cause for your anxiety, especially in a topic that requires trust.

“Thanks.” You sigh and cringe at yourself. You're an adult, for fuck’s sake, there's nothing to be ashamed of. “I just.” You take a longer breath. You feel humiliated - not by Abby, never by her, but by some social expectations. “Please don't be weird about it. I'm a virgin.”

Abby freezes. You watch her blank face nervously - you don't know how she'll react. You keep repeating “there's nothing to be ashamed of” over and over in your head, but you start to crumble when Abby stays silent. 

“You're being weird about it.” You chuckle nervously. Abby shakes her head and smiles. 

“Sorry.” She then grins like she won this life. “I know it's stupid, but it makes me happy.” 

You understand what Abby is saying: she is happy you trust her with this. She is also smug as fuck, this asshole, and you don’t say anything more  - you’re not going to boost her ego out of the stratosphere.

“Do you want to have sex someday?” Abby asks gently, watching your face as your scent keeps being sour. She wants to comfort you, any way she can. 

“Yeah. It's not like I don't know what it is, heat really makes you creative. But I've never been with another person. I'm nervous.” You tell Abby honestly. She nods, although your scent tells her you’re more scared than nervous.

“You've never smelled of anxiety before, when I flirted with you. Is it different because now it's a real possibility?” 

You take a moment to think about it, and then nod.

“Yeah. I mean, I knew I wouldn't let us have sex, and you also knew I'd regret it, so I wasn't worried when we'd make out.”

Abby hums, figuring out how to handle this conversation and make you feel safe. 

“What are you nervous about?” 

You take a moment to think - it's not like you haven't spent time worrying about it, but you're not with some imaginary stranger right now, you're with Abby, so you make an effort to pinpoint the exact reason. 

“Doing something wrong. You know how I always have to get everything right on the first try, and I guess sex is not an exception. Plus, you have so much experience and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me feel insecure.”

Abby hums again, thinking about your words. 

“Got it. Well, I mean- having experience is great for building confidence and seeing how diverse people can be, but when you come down to it, every person is different. Every time when I was with a new person, it was the first time all over again, except my hands didn't shake and I didn't cum in the first five minutes.”

It makes you feel better and you chuckle. You're grateful for Abby taking such care with her words. 

“Do you know what I like in bed? Do I know what you like in bed? I've got some experience, but we have no experience with each other. You know, even if you weren't a virgin, I'd still be nervous too.”

You laugh at this, not being able to imagine this alpha nervous. Abby doesn't do nervous. She is hot and confident and knows what she is doing. 

“Would you?” You ask sceptically. 

“Of course! You're my dream girl, I want it to be perfect.” 

“You're such a sap.” You shake your head and kiss Abby, the smell of love and affection filling your noses. “Thanks. For being so patient with me.” 

“Shut up, it's basic decency.”

“Well, when you put it this way, thanks for being basically decent with me.”

Abby pouts and you laugh, kissing her again. 

You decide to take it slow so you can get used to being close to Abby in a different way. You talk about it more later on, go on a “let's get tested” date and make a system as Abby would slowly introduce new things to you and you'd tell her if it's something you like or not. 

You're very eager to explore Abby's weak points - seeing what makes her run electric. You get fond of kissing her neck and rubbing circles into her hip bones - it never fails to get a sigh or a grunt out of her. Abby loves how enthusiastic you are, especially when you get all sciency-like with her and experiment on different parts of her body - that's how Abby finds out her sides are actually pretty sensitive. It's more playful than sensual, but you progressively get more comfortable with her. 

Then you start touching each other under your clothes, and Abby has a hard time not growling into your mouth as you trace her newfound sensitive sides with your warm fingertips, while Abby gets to explore your back, running her fingers over your spine. She doesn't hurry into touching your tits under your shirt - only when you hesitantly cup her rib cage with both of your hands and run your thumb under her tits, Abby feels like she is free to do the same. Still, she needs it to be talked about.

“You can touch me, if you want.” Abby rumbles into your neck, sniffing this beautiful scent of arousal and love. “Do you want me to touch your tits?”

“Yeah.” You smile and Abby giggles before carefully cupping you right tit. You copy her and sigh, surprised. “Oh. It feels good. Yours is so soft.”

Abby laughs kindly at your childlike wonder and kisses you. 

“They're sensitive too.” You grin and squeeze Abby's tit, but in your eagerness you do it too hard and Abby jumps. “Easy.”

“Sorry.” You ease up and gently run your fingers over Abby's nipple. “Does it feel good?”

Abby chuckles and runs her thumb over your nipple. You sigh and shudder, suddenly very turned on.

“You tell me. Does it?” 

“Uh- yes.” You pant and Abby keeps brushing her thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. “Shit. I didn't even-” Your hips start to move and Abby watches you as you get desperate and needy. She can fucking smell how wet you are. 

“If you want, you can rub against my thigh. Make yourself cum while I play with your nipples.”

You think about it for a moment. 

“Okay.” You pant, but then you get an even better idea. “Wait, can we, um-” You swallow as you try to get your brain together, a little overwhelmed: Abby's touch is so much more pleasant. “Can you grind against me? So we both cum? Or it doesn't work f-”

You don't get to finish your sentence because Abby turns you on your back and gets between your legs. 

“I fucking love your brain.” 

You grin and let Abby part your legs, even though it makes you nervous. Abby can smell it, so she checks in with you. 

“You okay? Wanna stop?” 

“No, fuck no. Maybe slow down a little?” 

Abby nods and doesn't make any quick movements. She puts your legs over her thighs, letting your knees rest there, but she doesn't move closer until you feel comfortable, caressing your thighs. You can see the tent in her pants and it makes you feel all giddy - you will never get tired of getting Abby hard. 

“Come here.” You tug Abby down and she grins before kissing you. 

Abby holds herself on her forearm while the other arm slowly guides your thigh on her hip, slow enough so you could stop her before she puts all her weight on you - it might feel safe, but it also might feel scary to be caged like this. But you eagerly let her manipulate you and buck your hips - you love having Abby’s weight on you. You can't help but arch into her desperately, keeping your legs spread wide. 

“Fuck, it reminds of that time when you were with me during my heat.” You murmur and brush baby hairs out of Abby's face.

Abby smiles, visibly trying to be all collected and calm for your sake, but her scent betrays her - it's overpowered with lust. Her blue eyes have sprinkles of red in them and you grin. 

“Move, Abby.” You laugh, and Abby laughs too, but then she presses her clothed cock against your covered pussy- “Uh!” 

Abby smirks at you and starts slowly grinding her hips, while you try to not make any embarrassing sounds. It feels amazing, her cock is thick enough to rub you in all the right places, the tip of her dick catching on your clit and making you swallow another whimper. 

“Do you want me to touch your nipples?” 

You nod and Abby slides her hand under your shirt, rubbing and lightly pinching your nipple. You bite your lip before any embarrassing sound can escape, and Abby would find it endearing, but she wants to hear you. 

“Hey, I wanna hear. Let it out. Let me know that I'm making you feel good.” Abby pants. Her cock rubs against your clit just right and you whimper quietly. “Yeah. Good.”

“If you call me- fuck! If you call me good girl I'll-”

“What? You'll cum?”

You buck your hips and glare at Abby: and she knows you're playful, but she's also scared of hurting you with unnecessary teasing. 

“Do you want me to call you a good girl?” Abby asks genuinely and you get all flustered, not answering her question. 

Abby kisses you behind your ear and you shudder. God her cock feels good and it's not even inside you yet, it's absolutely not fair. It is also unfair that Abby makes you feel good and you're doing nothing, so you slide your hands under her shirt and hold her sides, stroking them with your thumb. Abby's pace stutters and you grin. 

“You're a menace.” Abby growls and pinches your nipples a little harder. 

Her grinding gets quicker, bringing you closer to your orgasm. You wish you didn't have two layers of clothing between you, that you could feel Abby for real. 

“Abby-” You whimper her name and Abby grunts, her hand squeezing your tit almost painfully. Her thrusts become erratic and you feel like you're on fire: Abby is cumming, her scent spiking with pleasure. She is going to cum because you said her name, oh god. “Abby, please-” You whimper again and Abby moans, her other hand gripping the blanket you're laying on. Her hips shake as she keeps grinding against you and you buck your hips, wanting to cum with her. 

“Call me-” You ask Abby, desperate, hoping she will understand. 

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl-” Abby growls and you cum with a quiet shriek, your thighs closing on Abby. She watches you like she's obsessed, like she is witnessing a miracle, and her dick keeps twitching and soiling her pants. 

It takes a minute for both of you to even out your breathing, and then you laugh, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

“Wow. You're so fucking hot.” You tell Abby and she kisses your tit through your shirt. “Do you think when we get to real sex it will feel even better?”

“Just because I didn't put my dick in you doesn't mean this wasn't real sex, babe.” Abby murmurs, tired. “Who knows. Maybe you'll try it and feel like this is better. There's only one way to find out.” 

You huff fondly and run your fingers across Abby's shoulders. 

“Have you ever been with virgins before?”

Abby hums in agreement. 

“A few. It was cool.”

“Was it awkward?” You ask out of curiosity: you don't feel awkward with Abby at all. She is your comfort person.

“I mean, not really. It was when one of them didn't tell me she was a virgin and I hurt her. So you know, thanks for telling me.”

“O wow. That must've sucked.”

“Well, we stopped and I ate her out in the end.”

“Oh.” You feel your face warming up. 

Abby catches your little “oh” and looks up, curious. She thinks back to her words and grins. 

“Wanna try? I'd love to eat you out.” 

“Yeah. Sounds great.” You laugh, cringing at yourself kindly. “I feel like we won't go all the way before my heat with all of these things you can show me.”

“We're not going to rush. We'll find plenty of ways to fuck anyway, so if you want me to be with you during your heat, we'll figure it out.” 

“Of course I want you to be with me, you dum-dum. You're my alpha.”

Abby wiggles on top of you and you kiss her head. 

“You're a fucking simp.”

Abby bites your shoulder and you bite her too. 

Now that you two are being more close than before you started dating, you finally feel the pull to mark Abby and glare at other omegas - of course they want Abby, she is fucking perfect, but she is yours. 

You have it on good authority. Abby told you. Herself.

You start scenting Abby and she beams every time. She also notices your glares and she can't be happier - she loves when you get possessive. One night she teaches you how to leave hickeys, and you leave an absolutely gigantic one - you really opened your mouth wide for this one - and Abby, who is notorious for having no shame, feels the need to cover that one up because it's scandalous. You grin, satisfied, every time you look at it and Abby gives up. She stops wearing her turtlenecks. 

After a few months, the campus finally accepts that Abby Anderson is now taken. Omegas stop looking at her like they have a chance, but keep looking at her like she is a god. You don't mind. 

After that time when Abby made you both cum in your pants, you grow impatient. You don't rush with the whole penetration thing - you’ve felt how big Abby is and it is intimidating - but you want to get naked. You want to feel Abby’s skin, and feel her with your lips and feel her lips on you. (You might wanna grind on her cock as well)

“I wanna take my shirt off.” You tell Abby when you're making out in your living room: Abby is half lying on the couch while you're on top of her. 

“Please do.” Abby smirks. 

“I want you to take off your shirt as well.”

Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs her shirt off and then helps you take yours off. Abby stares for a moment, mesmerised by your tits - she knew you didn't have a bra on - they're pretty, they're soft and Abby really wants to play with your nipples and see if you'd be sensitive too when she will use her mouth. 

“Holy fuck, doll. You're fucking beautiful.” Abby marvels and brushes her fingers over your warm skin, going from your shoulders to your hips. 

“Take your bra off.” You nod at Abby's last defence and she takes it off so quickly she almost gets stuck in it. You lie down, pressing your chest on her chest and it feels so good. Abby is so warm and yes, she is pure muscle, her abs and chest are very defined, but she is still very soft. You kiss her shoulder right above her collarbone and Abby grips your waist harder. “Does it feel good?” 

“Yeah.” Abby sighs, happy. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“I want to get fully naked.”

“Jesus Christ.” Abby swallows. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“I thought maybe I should take you on that offer to eat me out?”

The way Abby's eyes don't take even a second to become bright red makes you giggle. Abby tries to suppress her desire to make you submit to her, but you feel her alpha presence getting stronger and more suffocating than ever. You nuzzle into her neck and Abby growls quietly, like a teenager - but you know she is fighting herself on just doing everything her way. You know it's tempting - you can't say you haven't fantasied about Abby just pinning you down and fucking you until you can't take it anymore - but Abby does have amazing self-control. Even if her presence tells you how much she wants to just bend you over and fuck you through this couch, her hands are gentle and she doesn't move. 

“But first let's just get naked.” You smile and Abby nods. 

You both strip completely and you just stare at each other. Your cheeks burn as you trace Abby with your eyes: her long legs, muscular thighs, her half-hard cock with curly blonde pubes around it, the v-line of her hips, her abs, perky little tits, her round, muscular shoulders, her arms. God, her arms. Soft, strong fingers, veiny wrists from lifting weights, chiselled forearms, the curves of her biceps and triceps. Abby looks like a god, her blonde hair almost like a halo, liquid gold around her. You don't want to stop looking, trying to see every mole and every scar on her. 

You get so stuck staring at Abby you don't have a moment to get self-conscious, but then Abby reaches for your hand and the spell breaks. You realise you were just standing there, fully naked, in front of a literal Greek goddess, and your insecurities flare up.

“I really need to hit the gym, huh.” You try to joke, but Abby doesn't buy it. 

“You're perfect.” Abby says with all the love she has in her heart. “I’m so privileged to get to see you like this.”

You chuckle, but hug Abby around her neck as she kisses you softly. She holds your waist, but as you're kissing, her hands start wandering over your hips, your back, stopping at your sides just to feel your curves. It feels good, having her warm strong hands all over you, and you press closer, feeling Abby's cock poke your stomach. Abby hums into the kiss and gently grabs your ass, messaging it. 

“Bedroom?” Abby asks in a raspy voice and you nod. 

You giggle as you walk to the bedroom holding hands, fully naked, and Abby chuckles at you - she loves how much fun you have, how comfortable you are with her. You're still nervous, but you don't smell sour anymore, and it's all Abby needs. 

You climb the bed and watch Abby climb after you with a smile, opening your arms for her as she lies on top of you. You feel her cock and you can't help yourself - you buck your hips and sigh.

“Stop it.” Abby laughs and you buck your hips again. Abby gets harder and her grip on your waist gets tighter. “I'm gonna get you for that.” 

“Yeah?”

Abby wants your cocky smile gone, so she leans to your neck and sucks a hickey into your skin, making you squeak and shudder under her. Abby smiles, her canines grazing your skin and you feel yourself getting wet. Abby is so damn hot. 

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

“Yes, fuck-” You sigh and pet Abby on her head, weaving your fingers into her hair. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah.” 

Abby starts leaving kisses all over your shoulders and chest, avoiding your tits at first, but then she feels confident enough to wrap her lips around your nipple and you gasp. Abby can smell how wet you're getting and she growls, her control slipping away. 

She can't help it: you're pretty, pliant under her, you make the best noises and you're hers. She wants to sink her teeth in you. 

“Fuck, it feels good.” You sigh like you're surprised. Abby chuckles and sucks on your nipple making you sigh louder, not moaning yet, but not quiet anymore. “Are yours this sensitive too?” You manage to ask and then you yelp when Abby gently bites you. 

“Yeah.” Abby frowns when she sees your excited eyes. “No, right now you're just going to lie and be pretty for me.”

Your breath hitches - your body relaxes immediately and your head falls down on the pillow. You feel all fuzzy and horny, ready to do whatever Abby tells you to do, whatever your alpha tells you to do. Your thighs relax and Abby presses closer, her abs pressing against your cunt. The change in your behaviour is so sudden Abby slows down and looks at you, only to groan helplessly: your eyes are golden and pleading, inviting her to destroy you. 

“Breathe.” Abby tells you and you breathe for a minute. Your head gets clearer and the golden of your eyes fades away. 

“What the fuck was that?” You pant, surprised. You don't smell scared or anxious, and Abby can breathe easier.

“I accidentally used my voice on you.” 

“Uh. Okay. So that's how it feels. Cool. Good to know.” Abby laughs and you laugh too before tugging her up and kissing her. Abby is getting impatient, so she breaks the kiss and resumes her trail down your body. She licks your nipple and you squeak again, but then she goes lower, kissing your stomach with an open mouth, biting you gently, while her hands bend your legs. Abby is so close to your pulsing cunt she has to force herself to be slow, and judging by how your scent changes just a little sour, it's for the best. 

“This is embarrassing.” You laugh and cover your eyes when Abby finally moves down and puts your legs on her shoulders. 

Abby kisses your thigh, ignoring the scent of your dripping pussy - she wants to bury her face in you - and then she blows a raspberry on your skin. You jump and laugh, glaring at Abby fondly, but she only blows another one. 

“This is very unsexy of you.”

“Not true. I can smell how horny you're. You liked it.” Abby smirks, noticing how the sour smell left your scent almost completely.

You huff, but all your giggles stop when Abby kisses your thigh lower - you can feel her hair tickling your pussy. She moves lower and you fist the blanket under you: even feeling Abby's head move between your legs is already a lot. But it also so fucking hot, and then you feel her breath on your pubic bone and you grip her hair tighter.

“You smell so fucking good.” Abby says reverently, dragging her nose over your pussy. You're tense, so fucking tense under her, but you don't smell like you're distressed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it's just a lot. Every time you move I feel it so intensely.” 

“Take a breath for me and relax.” You listen to Abby and breathe out, relaxing. 

Abby is slow: she kisses all around your pussy, the junction of your thighs, your lips, your pubic bone. You're suffocating in her scent, you feel already devoured by her with the heavy scent of possession and dominance filling your nose. It helps you relax and Abby finally opens your thighs so she could eat you out properly. Her eyes are red and she can't help her growling - god, if you ever want to mate her she'll leave her bite right between your legs, because this pussy is hers. 

Abby licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and you jump, your grip in Abby's hair tight.

“Fuck!” 

Abby doesn't listen anymore: she tasted you and her brain waved goodbye. She licks all of your pussy, rubs your clit gently while you whine above her. You can't keep your legs open, caging her between your thighs, so Abby wraps her arms around them and pins you down, her instincts going berserk with the want to keep you under her control. 

You look at her biceps bulging and roll your eyes in pleasure, letting the word “alpha” escape your mouth. 

Abby's brain short-circuits and she moans into your cunt, humping the bed. You buck your hips in response but she just presses you down and shoves her tongue inside you, moaning at your taste. You squeak and get up on your elbows, overwhelmed: it's too much and absolutely not enough, having Abby's mouth on you, hearing all the noises she makes because of you, smelling her scent dominating you. It's good, it's so good and you feel so empty, you need to have her inside you.

“Abby- fuck-” You screw your eyes shut when she sucks on your clit. “I wanna- want a finger.”

Abby looks up and you fall back on the bed after meeting her feral eyes: you submit to her fully, and Abby smirks, satisfied. Abby moves away and watches your soaked pussy for a moment before caressing it with her fingers, making you twitch when she touches your clit. 

“How many do you usually use?” Abby rasps.

“Two.” You whimper. Abby hums and slowly, very slowly, pushes one finger inside. 

“God, baby.” Abby sighs dreamingly. “So tight.”

“I'm a virgin, Abby.” You giggle, but feeling Abby inside distracts you.

Abby tries not to think how you'll feel around her dick, so hot and tight, clenching around her, but even a glimpse of it makes her hump the bed. She watches your face as you get used to having someone else's finger inside of you, and then she curls her finger gently. You gasp, and nod, humming in approval.

Abby starts moving her finger and curling it, seeing your cum collect at the base of her finger. It takes you little time before you relax and Abby pushes the second finger in. It's tighter and Abby doesn't move her fingers when she smells a faint scent of hurt. 

“Hurts?”

“I like it.” You say shortly, because you do like feeling how Abby stretches you. You think about her dick stretching you and you clench around Abby's fingers, making her growl, her self-control crumbling.

You don't need Abby to be careful, but she still is, curling her fingers gently. You're moaning quietly on every curl and the hurt evaporates from your scent - it's beautiful. Abby puts her mouth back on you and you whine when her thrusts inside you match the pace of her tongue on your clit. 

“Oh my god you'll make me cum.” You whimper and Abby groans, her humping gets more aggressive. You fist the blanket in your fingers, feeling your lower stomach tensing in approaching orgasm. “Shit, oh my god, Abby, please-” 

You grip her hair tighter, practically shoving her face into your cunt and Abby moans again: she loves feeling your fingers in her hair, loves hearing you beg. 

It takes one more gentle curl for your whole body to tense and a loud whimper to escape your throat. Your scent spikes in euphoria and Abby groans when she feels how you pulsate around her fingers. She drags her cock over the covers and shudders, too turned on, while she watches your face. You're fucking divine like this, cumming on her fingers, the only thing keeping you still is Abby's grip on your hips. 

“Abby, oh my god, fuck!” You moan and your hips jump when Abby sucks on your clit, but the pleasure starts to hurt. “It's too much, please-”

Abby moves away and watches your cunt flutter around her fingers rhythmically, drenching her hand. She is spellbound, and for a moment you two are in separate worlds: you're coming down from your high and she is somewhere in her darkest fantasies. Abby will never hurt you, but she cannot not think about fucking you right now, pushing inside you and not letting you escape her, splitting you on her cock. 

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but then you look at Abby and gulp: her eyes are so dark with something hot and dangerous. It makes you shudder and you remember that she hasn't cum yet. 

“Abby-” Her sharp eyes look up and you feel like you're in front of a predator. “Come here, baby.” 

Abby climbs on top of you, her fingers still trapped inside you, and you kiss her. You feel her cock poking your thigh and suddenly you’re overcome with the need to make her to cum. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad.” Abby admits and licks your neck, half-feral.

“I wanna make you cum.” You tell her and kiss her temple. “Lie down.”

Abby slowly takes her fingers out of you and licks them clean, making your face burn, but you don't stay embarrassed long: Abby lies on her back and you're presented with the magnificence that she is. 

“I'll need your help.” You tell her: even though you're very turned on, you're still intimidated. For a moment you feel like you bit more than you could chew, but Abby gently pets your head and nods.

“Of course. Don't push yourself, doll.” 

You feel easier after that and lean down to kiss Abby's scent glands. She squeezes your thigh and hums in pleasure. You move lower, kissing her sternum and then, like under some spell, you latch onto her nipple. Abby twitches and moans quietly, and your ears ring: it was one thing hearing Abby groan when she was between your legs, and another thing knowing it's your direct actions that make her moan. 

Your eyes fall on her stomach, where the precum is glistening, dripping from her hard, wet cock. Abby is big, fuck she is big, and you mouth salivates. You try not to think how it's going to fit in you one day, but right now you really want to fit it in your mouth. 

You crawl between her legs and Abby gulps while her fingers grab your hair. She is not guiding your head, letting you control the pace. You wrap your fingers around her cock and Abby hisses, so turned on by seeing your hand on her dick. You look up, panicking that you hurt her, but Abby's scent only spikes with joy. 

“Tighter, baby.” Abby pants and you listen, eagerly wrapping your hand tighter and pumping her cock. Abby starts panting, her chest heaving, and you smile. 

“I love seeing you like this.” You murmur and then, in a sudden wave of bravery, you lean down, licking the head of her dick. Abby grips your hair tighter, almost causing pain, but you don't care. 

You take your time to adjust to the velvet soft texture and the salty taste, but the more you lick, the more addicted you get, especially smelling her growing arousal, her desire to break you. 

“Shit, baby.” Abby growls and very lightly pushes your head down: you don't even register it at first, but then you eagerly swallow her down, as much as you can take. Abby moans and her thighs shake: your mouth is hot and wet, and Abby breathes through her nose to not cum immediately. 

You notice and grin before sucking on her head, whirling your tongue slowly. Abby groans, soft delicate sounds falling from her lips and you look up to her, making eye contact.

“I won't last long, babe.” Abby growls and you wiggle your butt, delighted. “Yeah? You like the thought that you can make me cum so soon?” You hum in agreement and Abby's head falls on the pillow. “Shit!” 

This is interesting. You keep moaning around Abby's cock, sucking her off as best as you can, and then you cup her balls gently, scared to hurt her. Abby moans, loud, and you wish you had something inside you right now to compensate for emptiness Abby’s fingers left in you. It's so hot seeing Abby coming undone, Abby, who probably had way better blowjobs in her life, but because it's you, it turns her into a teenager.

“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum.” Abby moans and you hum again. “Fuck!” 

You let Abby cum in your mouth, even though you don't know quite what to expect - but you feel her balls tighten and her cock pulsate as your mouth gets filled with her cum, and you don’t move away, too greedy. It's a lot, but it's not unpleasant, although you can't keep up and swallow everything. You let her dick out of your mouth and a few spurts end up on your face. 

Abby pants and moans, watching your surprised face: she laughs through her moans and wipes your cheek with a shaking hand. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

You grin and flop on top of Abby, kissing her. You both are covered in cum, and it makes you giggle, knowing you're gonna smell like each other for the next few days.

“Love you.” Abby murmurs, sleepy: she always wants to nap after sex. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. Can't wait for you to fuck me properly.”

“Whenever you want, babe. Whenever you want.”

It's ironic, but you have your first “real” sex (cue’s Abby's eye roll) in the morning. It's Saturday and you both sleep in: Abby's holding you close even in her sleep, her arm wrapped around your waist. You wake up earlier than Abby and giggle: not the first time when you wake up with Abby's hard cock pressing into you. You have no idea what she is dreaming about, but you hope it's you. 

And this time, you can actually do something about it. You snuggle closer to her and kiss Abby's scent glands, making her sigh. It makes you grin and you snake your hand down into her boxers, lightly brushing your fingertips over her cock. Abby sighs again and bucks her hips, seeking more, but you stop and kiss her neck again.

“Abby.” You call sweetly, not wanting to startle her, and she hums. “Wake up.”

“What's up?”

“Your dick.”

Abby laughs at this and you smile, happy. 

“Wanna do something about it?” 

You hum and stroke Abby's cock gently, feather like - the quickest way to get her worked up. Her scent gets heavier and you chuckle, gripping her cock tighter. Abby grunts and sneaks her arm behind your back, prodding at your hole - you're wet, your thighs are sticky with your cum.

“Got yourself worked up, huh?” Abby asks, her voice still sleepy and raspy. You nod and wiggle your butt, trying to get her fingers inside you. “How about you ride me?”

You gulp, suddenly extremely turned on, your scent getting thicker with desire, and Abby moves the blanket away. She helps you straddle her and you part your lips so they're on either side of Abby's cock, your clit dragging over her length. It's hot, you love covering Abby in your cum, feeling extremely possessive over her. 

Abby holds your hips in her strong hands and guides your moves on top of her, keeping them slow. You both pant and moan, you twitch when Abby pinches your nipple under your shirt. 

“Take it off.” Abby growls and you smile, a little fuzzy from her voice: she can't always control it, ordering you around. You throw your shirt somewhere and Abby grunts: seeing you on top of her, confident, safe, giggling and moaning, is the best view in her life. 

Abby squeezes your sides when your clit catches on the head of her cock, and when you slide up, you feel her poking your hole. It sends a hot wave down your spine and you try to do it again, slowing down every time you grind back, making Abby's cock press into you. 

Abby catches up on your actions and moans: you are a menace. She wishes you pushed a little harder, pulled her inside, into your tight, hot cunt. 

“Abby-”

“Yeah, baby?” Abby pants, watching your determined face. 

“Fuck me.”

Abby blinks and digs her fingers into your thighs, so fucking turned on: you want to take her. She will finally claim you, she will be the first (and the last) person you trust with this. You still smell a little nervous, but Abby learnt to read it by now: when you're good nervous and bad nervous. This seems to be a "good nervous" scent.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Abby brings you down and kisses you, kneading your ass so you could keep grinding against her, her scent quickly growing agressive. She pushes one finger in carefully and you moan, desperate.

“Abby, please-” You beg and Abby gulps, fighting for her self-control. 

She turns you both and slides down to put her mouth on you, and you whimper when Abby gently sucks on your clit. You're wet and you smell like her, your scents mixing together. It drives Abby crazy: she wants to mate you so fucking bad, she wants you to be hers for the rest of your lives. 

You take two of her fingers easily, dripping down her palm after all these times Abby fingered you, and Abby licks up all of your cum, addicted to your taste. But then Abby presses the third finger in and you grip her hair, excited. It goes tighter, but you love it - you even get a little sad when the sting of the stretch passes. Abby curls her fingers and you jump, dangerously close to your orgasm.

“Abby- Don't- don't make me cum.” You beg through your moans and Abby looks up.

“Why?”

“Want to cum on your cock.”

Abby would laugh if it didn't turn her on so much. She sucks your clit on purpose and you jump before tugging on her hair.

“I swear to god-” You start your threat but Abby curls her fingers, making you squeak. 

But Abby slows down: she wants you dripping, relaxed and blissed out before she fucks you. She keeps moving her fingers slowly while she licks and sucks on your pussy, and you sigh sweetly above her, your grip on her hair relaxing. Abby is almost lazy, but she watches you intently. You're wet, your cum mixed with her saliva and Abby moans quietly, getting off on the fact that she marked you. Your thighs start twitching soon, and you tug on Abby's hair again. 

“Come here.” You ask, and Abby obeys. She slowly takes her fingers out and kisses you, letting you taste yourself. You moan when you feel Abby's taste lingering as well.

“You're so beautiful.” Abby murmurs into your neck as she nuzzles you, wanting to comfort you and make you feel safe. 

You nuzzle back, grinning: you love how Abby takes care of you. You hug her shoulders and kiss her gently, slowing down as well. Abby snakes her hand between your bodies and slowly circles your clit with her thumb, watching intently as your face changes from pleasure; she tries not to overwhelm you. You sigh softly and Abby chuckles into your shoulder.

“You're cute.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh, embarrassed. Abby laughs too and kisses your tit before gently sucking on your nipple. You thread your fingers through Abby's hair and arch into her. “I love you.”

Abby's scent spikes and you giggle. 

“Love you so much.” She whispers feverishly into your skin. 

She takes a pillow and puts it under your butt, making you comfortable. Both of your clothes are around you and you feel extremely safe. It's Abby, it's your alpha, she will take care of you. You spread your legs and Abby parts your folds, replacing her thumb with her cock. You sigh and shake under her, too sensitive. You love when you grind against each other: it's so intimate and perfect. You know Abby loves it too, your slick making the best sounds for Abby's ears. 

You watch Abby frown and bite her lip to not make any sounds, so you kiss her, not letting her hide from you. Your clit catches on the head of her cock again and you both moan. 

“Come on, baby.” You encourage Abby and she nods, lining up her cock with your hole. 

“If I smell hurt, we're stopping.” She warns you and you nod. You don't want your alpha to know she hurt you during your most vulnerable time either.

Abby doesn't push right away, just lightly pressing on the edges of your hole like you did it yourself before, but when she gets the head of her cock wet enough, she pushes harder. 

“God.” Abby sighs, feeling your tight walls squeeze her cock. You don't smell like pain so Abby pushes further while you cling to her shoulders. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

You hum, but you're too concentrated on your own feelings: Abby is so big and it's a lot, it's intense and feels so different from her fingers. You're thankful she doesn't go all the way in, giving you time. Abby slowly pushes back and forth, fucking your gently until all of her length is inside you, and you relish in the feeling of her being in you. Abby bottoms out and you cling to her, turned on from being so full, so stretched. It doesn't hurt but it still stings a little - and you like it. You like knowing Abby is a little too big for you. 

“I'm gonna cum.” You whine when Abby slowly thrusts inside. You need one little touch to your clit and you'll come undone, you're sure of it. “Slowly, yeah?”

Abby nods and kisses you as she slowly fucks you; she doesn't go all the way out, letting you get used to it. You moan softly as she moves, her cock touching every nerve ending in your walls. 

“Good?” Abby asks, and you understand that she is nervous. Your heart swells with affection and your scent spikes with love.

“Perfect.” You smile and kiss her. “You can go harder.”

Abby grips your thighs and thrusts hard enough to punch the air out of you. You choke on your moan and Abby pulls out, watching her cock glisten with your cum. It makes her feral and she gets more confident, fucking you harder, letting her hips slap against yours. It's intense and you can't think, overwhelmed by how good it feels, so you let your brain go all fizzy.

“Fuck, Abby, please.” You whine desperately and Abby swallowa, gripping you harder. She doesn't want to hurt you, but you start bucking your hips, trying to get Abby deeper and that's it. 

Abby’s scent changes: it’s suffocating now, bending you to her will, dark and possessive. Abby pins your thighs to the bed and starts hammering inside you, growling on every thrust. She knows you can take it, smells your pleasure, so Abby doesn't restrain herself. She fucks you hard and fast, listening to your whines and whimpers with the only thought in her head:

“Mine.” Abby growls and you bare your throat for her like a good little omega you are. “You were made for my cock, taking it so well on your first try, huh? Good fucking girl.” Abby leans down and sucks a hickey into your scent glands, claiming you.

Your eyes roll into your skull and you claw at Abby's shoulders, so desperate. You're close, but your brain is a mush and you can only beg. Abby smirks and moves her hand down your thigh so she can hold you open and flick your clit with her thumb. 

You shake and cum with a loud moan, spasming around Abby's cock, and she groans. Abby bottoms out and stills, letting herself feel it, how your walls trap her inside. It's better than any of the fantasies she had before: not only you're so tight around her, but you're also so fucking pretty, with her mark blooming on your neck, your throat still bared. You're vulnerable, trusting, and Abby feels honoured she can get you to this point. But then she gets hungry. She starts moving again, and you're lost in your pleasure now: your head is so fuzzy, your cunt is full with your alpha's cock, and all you want now is for Abby to cum deep inside you, claiming you. 

“I'm yours, fuck-” You squeal when Abby thrusts especially deep. 

Abby chuckles and starts thumbing your clit, eager to make you cum again. 

“And I'm yours, pretty girl.” Abby sighs, getting hazy with her own devotion to you, the smell of love almost overpowering lust. “Cum.”

You close your thighs around Abby and cum again, not able to disobey her. It's a neat trick, having Abby use her voice on you, making you even more turned on. Abby moans softly as she tries to fuck you through your orgasm, but you spasm right on her head and she cums with a groan, bottoming out, painting your walls with her cum. You’re still pulsating around her, milking Abby’s cock and she pushes even deeper, until you choke on your moan and press on her shoulder to stop her, but you’re so deliciously tight Abby can’t help herself. She digs her nails into your inner thighs and pulls out just to see her cock covered in your and her cum, mixed together. 

“So fucking pretty.” Abby growls and pushes back in, overstimulating herself. You feel her twitch inside you, and you sigh, also overstimulated.

You're shaking, but you still find some strengh to bring Abby closer, burying your nose in her neck, whining and panting into her ear while she sinks her teeth into your shoulder gently, not causing any pain. 

“Jesus.” You pant as your head clears up. 

“Are you okay?” Abby asks and you chuckle: there she is, your caring soft alpha.

“I’m fucking floating in space, Abby.”

“Good.”

You lie like this for a few minutes before Abby pulls out - you wince, sore, and Abby comforts you with kisses. She insists on helping you in the shower and brings you her softest clothes, and you tease her for being so whipped. Abby rolls her eyes and puts her hoodie on you. It hurts to sit just a bit, but you don’t mind and hiss at Abby when she tries to make it easier for you. 

You’re hers, your body and soul, and you want the evidence of it to be constant. 

[kentsjohnson91]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍ᵃᶠ¹⁹

in which adam’s deepest regret is loving you too deeply.

warnings; argument between a couple, angry adam, allusion to the events that happened about a month ago

Adam Fantilli had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. The two of you had met in New Hampshire, when Adam had decided to follow Luca to boarding school to play hockey. The two of you had hit it off immediately, meeting in history class his first year there. Within a few months, Adam had asked you to be his girlfriend.

Over sophomore year, he had decide to take some advanced classes, graduating a year early before heading off to Chicago with Luca. You stayed behind in New Hampshire, finishing out your junior and senior year at the academy. Adam ended up playing with the Steel for two seasons, and despite the distance, the two of you remained strong. You'd come visit him over long weekends and holiday breaks, even visiting his family in Nobleton a few times.

Everything was perfect, and continued to be when he signed at Michigan.

You didn't follow him to Michigan, choosing to go to college in Chicago after falling in love with the city. And as much as it sucked, the two of you were used to the distance by then, so it didn't affect much. FaceTimes and phone calls were constant, and some of the boys would even tease Adam about how whipped he was. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't deny it.

He finished the year out at Michigan, declaring for the NHL draft after just one season. You were extremely proud of him - winning the Hobey Baker award as a freshman was no easy feat and he deserved nothing more than to play in the NHL. When he was drafted to Columbus, he finally asked you to follow and move in with him.

So you did. As much as you loved Chicago, you would drop everything for him. Instead of transferring, you talked to your advisor and decided to go virtual for the remainder of your time at college. And as you settled into Adam's apartment in Columbus, everything was perfect.

But now, the apartment was suffocating with tension, the air thick with words unspoken and emotions bubbling too close to the surface. You stood near the kitchen counter, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to shield yourself from the storm that was building between you and Adam. You'd been through a lot together - much more than most couples your age - but tonight, things felt different. It wasn't about the little things you guys usually bantered about, like leaving clothes on the floor or who was supposed to take out the trash. Tonight's argument ran deeper.

You knew he was having a hard time with the start of the season, especially with what had transpired over the past few weeks. The air inside and outside of the locker room was different, and not in a good way. It was understandably taking its toll on Adam. You tried to be there for him, you really did. But he had shut you out, the distance between the two of you increasing even though you were standing right there in front of him. You guys weren't 15 hours away from each other anymore. Hell, you weren't even four hours away from each other anymore. But right now, it sure felt like you were.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Adam muttered, his back turned to you as he stared out of the window, watching the rain patter against the glass.

You stared at him in utter disbelief, "I make things difficult?" you echoed, your voice a little higher than you intended, "You're the one who's been avoiding me for days! I just want to know what's going on with you, Adam. Why won't you talk to me?"

Adam turned around, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion, "Because I'm tired, Y/N! I'm tired of always being the one holding everything together. I can't do this all the time!"

Your heart sank at his words, "You think I don't feel the same way? You think it's easy for me?" your voice cracked, and you bit your lip to keep the tears from falling. "I get it, Adam, I do. You're under a lot of pressure with hockey, and I know you're grieving. But that doesn't mean you get to shut me out! All I want is to help you."

His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides, "I'm not shutting you out."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped back. "You haven't said more than ten words to me all week unless it's about something trivial!"

"Maybe I don't have the energy to talk about the heavy stuff right now!" Adam's voice rose, echoing through the apartment. His eyes, usually soft when they looked at you, were now filled with a fire that matched your own. "Maybe I just need some space without you always breathing down my neck, waiting for me to fall apart.

You felt like you had been slapped. The weight of his words hit you square in the chest, making it hard to breathe, "So that's what you think of me? That I'm just... waiting for you to mess up?"

Adam groaned, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration, "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" your voice was softer now, trembling slightly. You were tired of this, tired of the fight, tired of feeling like the two of you were on the verge of breaking.

Adam looked at you, his expression torn between anger and regret. His chest heaved as he tried to find the right words, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't stop himself.

"I wish I loved you less!"

The words hung in the air like a weight neither of you could lift. Time seemed to stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces as his words echoed in your mind on repeat.

"You... what?" your voice was barely a whisper, but the hurt in it was unmistakable.

Adam's eyes widened, as if he hadn't fully realized what he's said until it was too late, "Y/N/N, I-"

"Don't Y/N/N me," you whispered, your voice dripping with pain as you shook your head, taking a step back from him. "No. Don't you dare. You don't get to take that back."

He tried to reach for you, but you pulled away from him, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean, Adam?" your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. "Because it sure sounded like you meant every word."

Adam's heart sank as he watched you crumble in front of him. He wished he could take it back, but the damage was done. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your crying, "I'm so sorry."

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your sweater, but the tears wouldn't stop. "Do you even hear yourself? You just said that you wish you didn't love me as much as you do. What am I supposed to do with that?"

He stepped closer, desperation lacing his voice. "I didn't mean it that way. I just... God, Y/N, I love you so much it hurts sometimes! And when things get hard like this... I don't know how to handle it. I feel like I'm failing you."

Your breath hitched at his words, but you still couldn't look at him. "You don't have to be perfect all the time, Adam. I don't need you to have all the answers. I just need you to be honest with me."

He nodded, his heart aching as he reached out and gently touched your arm. You winced, pulling away slowly. The hurt in his eyes mirrored your own, and he continued, "I am being honest. That's the problem. Loving you is everything to me, but it scares me too. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. That's why I said what I said. I wish it didn't feel so... all-consuming."

You finally looked at him, your eyes red and filled with pain. "You don't get to say you wished you loved me less, Adam. If this is too much for you, then maybe-"

"No," Adam interrupted, panic flashing in his eyes, "Don't say that. Please. I don't want that."

You sighed, shaking your head at his words. "I don't want that either, Adam. That's the last thing I want. But I can't be here right now."

His face twisted in heartbreak, but he let you continue. "I'm going to call Odette and see if I can stay with her and Zach for a bit. Call me when you figure it out."

With that, you left to go to your guys' shared bedroom. Adam whispered your name over and over again in protest, but you ignored him. As much as you wanted to turn around and hug him, you couldn't be around him with that he just said.

You slipped into the shared bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you, your back resting against the cool wood as you took a shaky breath. The silence in the room felt suffocating, and stark contrast to the muffled sounds of Adam moving around in the living room. Everything between the two of you felt frayed, like a thread pulled too tightly, on the verge of snapping. You can’t bear to look at the room you’ve shared for so long — every inch of it filled with memories, good ones, but also the ones that now haunted you.

Your hands trembled as you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts, hovering over Odette's name. You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on your chest. Should you really leave? Could you even explain what happened to someone else when you barely understood it yourself?

But you needed space - space to think, to breath, to not have Adam's face constantly reminding you of everything you guys were struggling through. So, with a deep, unsteady breath, you tapped Odette's name and listened as the phone rang.

"Hey!" Odette's cheerful voice came through the line after a few rings. The brightness in her tone felt like a stark contrast to the dark cloud hanging over you.

For a second, you almost lost your nerve. How could you drag someone else into this mess? But you forced yourself to speak, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Hey, Odette. I, um... I need to ask you something."

Immediately, her tone shifted. "What's going on?" her voice was gentle now, concerned. "Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I... I was wondering if I could stay with you and Zach for a few days. Just until I figure things out."

There's a pause, a heavy silence that filled the space between the two of you, and you worried for a moment that you've overstepped, that you asked for too much. But Odette finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Of course you can, love. But what's going on? Why do you need to leave?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, a tear slipping down your cheek as you wrapped your arms around yourself, curling in on the bed like you could hold yourself together. "It's Adam," you admitted, your voice breaking. "We had this fight... I don't even know how it started, but it just kept spiraling. It feels like everything's been spiraling, and I just... I can't stay here right now. I need space, and I don't know how to get it when he's here, constantly reminding me of what's wrong between us."

Odette's sigh was audible through the phone, and when she spoke again, her voice was laced with empathy, "Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. I know how much you care about him."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob that was clawing at your throat. "It's so hard, Odette. It feels like I'm drowning, and I don't even know how to make it stop. I love him so much, it hurts. But I don't know who I am when we're constantly fighting."

"You don't have to explain it all right now," Odette assured you, "Just pack a bag and come over. You're welcome here for as long as you need. I'll be here, and we can talk whenever you're ready, okay?"

You nodded, even though Odette couldn't see you, a fresh wave of tears filling your eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaking, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to do this alone, Y/N," Odette said softly. "We'll figure it out together, okay? Zach and I will be here. Just come over whenever you're ready."

The call ended, and you stared at the phone in your hand, the silence in the room feeling even heavier now. Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the nightstand - you and Adam, arms wrapped around each other, smiling like you didn't have a care in the world. It felt like a lifetime ago, like you were different people back then. Maybe you were.

With a shaky breath, you rose from the bed and started packing a bag, each item a reminder of the life you're stepping away from, even if just for a little while. Every drawer you opened, every glance at the room you shared, made your heart ache. But you couldn't stay. Not like this.

As you zipped up the bag, you paused for a moment, glancing toward the door. You know Adam is just outside, probably sitting on the couch as he pretended that everything was fine, that the two of you hadn't been drifting apart for weeks. Part of you wanted to go to him, to tell him everything you're feeling, to fix it. But the other part - the part that'd been breaking under the weight of the unresolved tension, the part that Adam said he wishes he loved less, knew that you needed to leave. You needed to find yourself again before you lost everything, including your own sense of who you were.

With one last glance at the room, you grabbed your bag and quietly opened the door, slipping out before the weight of it all pulled you back in. "I'm going, Adam. Call me when you're ready to have a civil conversation."

Adam just stared at you as you left. There seemed to be no reconciling what he had said.

He sat on the couch, his leg bouncing restlessly as the reality of what just happened hit him. He could still hear the hurt in your voice echoing in his head. He'd said things he didn't mean, and the look in your eyes before you walked away... that's something he would never forget.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the knot of panic tightening in his chest. His first instinct was to call Luca, but as he thought more about it, he realized he couldn't do that. Luca was too much like him - impulsive, emotional. He'd tell his younger brother to stand his ground, but Adam knew that this wasn't the time for that. He needed someone who'd be calmer, more rational. Someone who could actually help.

There was only one person he could think of.

Without overthinking it, Adam scrolled through his contacts and tapped on Kent's name. It was late, and for a moment, he wondered if he should even be calling him right now. But the phone rang, and Kent picked up, his voice groggy on the other end.

"Adam? What's up, man? You okay?"

Adam swallowed hard, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He felt like the air in the room was pressing in on him. "I screwed up, Kent. Big time."

Kent was quiet for a second, but Adam could almost hear him sitting up, fully awake now. "What happened?"

Adam took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut like it might make the guilt a little easier to bear. "Y/N and I had this fight. I don't even know how it started, but it just... got worse and worse, and I... god, I said some things I shouldn't have. And now she's talking about leaving. Like, actually packing a bag and going."

He expected Kent to immediately start calming him down, to say something reassuring, but instead, there's just silence on the other end of the line. The longer Kent said nothing, the worse it made him feel.

"You're telling me she's leaving?" Kent finally said, his voice more serious than Adam was used to hearing. "Like, leaving for good?"

"I don't know," Adam admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She called Odette to stay with her and Zach for a few days. I didn't mean for it to get this bad, Kent. I didn't think it would ever come to this."

"Well, what'd you say during the fight that could've made her leave?"

Adam paused, not wanting to repeat the words that caused so much damage.

"I said that I wish I loved her less."

Kent exhaled sharply, and when he spoke again, Adam could hear the disappointment and anger laced in his tone, "What made you think that that was ever okay? Adam, man, you fucked up. Big time."

Adam's heart dropped into his stomach, and he leaned against the couch, letting KJ's words hit him full force. He expected it, but hearing it out loud still stung.

"I know," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "But what do I do now? I don't want to lose her."

Kent paused again, clearly thinking through his words carefully before speaking. "If she's walking out like this, and understandably so, may I add, you can't just sit there. You need to do something. Sooner rather than later."

Adam's throat tightened as the weight of Kent's words settled in. He knew that Kent was right. You were not just upset. You were on the edge of something bigger, something that could end everything between you two. And if he didn't act now, he might lose you for good.

"But what if..." Adam trailed off, staring blankly at the floor, his voice barely audible. "What if it's already too late?"

Kent's voice softened, but it was still firm. "It's not too late if you don't let it be. You've got a window, but it's closing fast, dude. You need to talk to her - really talk to her. No more fights, no more letting things spiral, no more saying stupid fucking shit. If you love her as much as you truly do, you have to prove it, Adam. Right now."

Adam nodded, though he knew Kent couldn't see him. He knew what he had to do, but the thought of facing you right now, of admitting how badly he'd messed up, terrified him. The hurt in your eyes was burned into his memory, and the guilt felt like it was choking him. But if KJ's right—and he knew he was—then waiting isn’t an option.

“Thanks, Kent,” Adam said, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ll fix this. I have to.”

“Yeah, you do,” Kent replied, his voice softening again. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? You can’t afford to.”

With that, Adam hung up. His heart raced as he stood up, his feet feeling heavier than they've ever felt as he walked toward the bedroom door. His hand hovered over the doorknob, and for a split second, he wonders if he should give you more time. But Kent's voice echoed in his head - "you can't afford to wait."

His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to walk inside your room. The weight of your fight, of everything he'd said in the heat of the moment, felt like it was too much to face right now. You had gone to Odette's anyway, and he knew that you needed time.

With a heavy sigh, Adam pulled out his phone and stared at the screen, the blank text message to you glaring up at him. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. He wanted to fix it, but he'd never been great with words when it came to you. Maybe giving you the night, letting you breathe, was the only thing he could do right now.

i'm sorry. i know you need space, and i'm giving it to you. i don't want to make this worse. but when you're ready, i'm here. i'm ready to talk in the morning. i need to fix this. i love you.

He stared at the message, reading it over a dozen times, wondering if it was enough. He didn't want to sound desperate, but he also didn't want you to think he’s not willing to fight for you. With a shaky breath, he hit send.

As the message went through, Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. The silence was deafening, and the absence of your presence was suffocating. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would feel like if you left for good.

All he could do now was wait for the morning, for you to text him back, for the two of you to finally talk civilly and try to fix the cracks that had been growing between you. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but the thought of losing you was more painful than any fight he'd ever had.

To his surprise, you texted back almost immediately.

i'll meet you at the apartment tomorrow night. don't screw this up, fantilli.

The next day, Adam waited impatiently for you to come back home. He knew you weren't going to be happy to see him, as Kent had repeatedly reminded him at morning practice. He could tell he fucked up badly when Zach glared at him through almost the entire practice, too.

But now, Adam's back was against the window as rain pattered against the glass, his eyes staring firmly at the door, waiting for you to walk through. It was as if you read his mind. Not even a minute later, you walked through the door, hair messy and dressed in a Blue Jackets hoodie.

He smiled softly at you, but you didn't return it. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen counter, your eyes focusing on him as he slowly made his way over to sit down next to you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I am so fucking sorry for everything," he started immediately, emotion lacing his voice, "I don't want to break up. I don't want you to go."

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't want to go either, but the truth of the matter was that he had hurt you. His words had cut through you like a knife, stabbing you right in the heart. It felt like five years had been flushed down the drain.

"Then what do you want? Because I can't keep doing this if you're going to push me away every time things get tough."

Adam took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he finally let down the walls he’d been holding up for so long. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. I just… I’m scared. I don’t know how to balance everything.”

Your face softened slightly, though the hurt was still there. “Then let me help you. We’ve been together for so long, Adam. Don’t shut me out now.”

He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. You resisted at first, but eventually melted into his embrace, your face buried in his chest. “I’m sorry,” Adam whispered again, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded against him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “I’m scared too, you know,” you admitted quietly. “But I’m here, Adam. I’m not going anywhere. But you cannot do this again. I deserve to be treated better than that."

Adam nodded profusely, "It won't happen again, I promise. Kent drilled that into my head all of last night and today. I fucked up, and I realize that. I love you so, so, so much, Y/N. More than you will ever know."

You nodded, and he rubbed his hand along your back, trying to make sure you were really there in front of him.

"I love you too, Adamo."

For a while, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other as the rain continued to fall outside. The fight wasn’t over - you still had plenty of things that needed to be talked about - but for now, you were okay. You had each other, and in the end, that was what mattered most.

[haechvn]

Too Intense

Pairing: Shuri Udaku x F!Reader

Warning: Y'all gone hate me cause Shuri rude asf. You have been warned. I'm actually tryna hurt yall feelins. Angst.

Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary/Request: Toxic!Shuri. That's it.

Author’s Note: I wrote this a while ago but I wasn't too sure about it. I tweaked it a bit and now i'm in love. Lmk if yall wanna be on my taglist. Love yall

Taglist: @blkgworlamplified @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @theblacksuccubus

The cold, sterile smell of the hospital was almost too familiar by now, a stark reminder of the pain and confusion that had become a constant in your life. Shuri had been rough with you during a training session. Her strength, normally a reassuring presence, had become uncomfortably overbearing, and you found yourself sidelined in the hospital for a few nights on many different occasions. The bruises and aches were secondary to the emotional turmoil of being so close to her yet so far away.

When you were finally released, the confrontation you dreaded sought you out. Shuri had locked herself in her room, unable—or rather unwilling—to face you. Her absence was a silent scream of regret and discomfort, and you could feel the coldness of her avoidance cutting through the air. Her usual self-assured demeanor had cracked, revealing a vulnerability she refused to acknowledge.

Her newfound lack of empathy was one of the hardest things to endure. Shuri often acted as if her own hardships were so monumental that nothing could compare. It became a habit for her to dismiss your struggles with an almost casual cruelty. “Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom every day. Where’s mine? Oh, right. I’m done listening,” she would say, brushing off your pain with a shrug. It was as if your problems were trivial compared to the grand scale of her own trials.

This lack of empathy extended to how she handled your relationship, particularly when it came to her interactions with RiRi. Shuri was constantly talking about how beautiful RiRi was, her voice dripping with deliberate poison, meant to provoke jealousy and rage. Despite her attempts to downplay it, her actions spoke volumes. The tension built until it reached a breaking point. One night, the emotional strain pushed you too far and you lashed out at her with every fiber of your being. It was a desperate act of frustration and pain, the culmination of feeling constantly belittled and manipulated.

Shuri looked you dead in the eyes after that you spoke out against her behavior, her gaze cold and unwavering. “You aren’t more important than my work or anyone else in my life,” she said with an icy calm tone. “If you can’t handle that, then you should just leave me alone. Spend the money I give you and keep quiet.” The words cut deep, and the gesture that followed—a transfer of two million dollars to your account—was a bitter reminder of her ability to detach from you emotionally while trying to compensate with financial means. The way she used money as a substitute for emotional connection only deepened the rift between the two of you. Her financial generosity was supposed to be a balm for the wounds she inflicted, but it only served as a stark reminder of how transactional your relationship had become. The many millions of dollars she has transferred to you over the years were a testament to her belief that money could mend what her words and actions had shattered.

Her refusal to even be intimate with you became a weapon she wielded with precision. One morning, you had simply greeted the Dora Milaje with a soft “hi,” and Shuri’s reaction was swift and harsh. “I didn’t like the way you spoke to them,” she declared, her tone final. “No sex tonight. Matter fact, don't touch me for a week.” The punishment felt petty and unjust, a way for her to reassert her control and punish you for perceived slights.

The physical and emotional barriers she built were sometimes more painful than the wounds from training sessions. Her constant criticism, whether it was about your strength or my interactions with others, was a manifestation of her own insecurities. She projected her frustrations onto you, making every exchange feel like a test of endurance rather than a moment of genuine connection.

The dynamic between you often felt like a constant struggle for validation. Shuri’s embarrassment over your perceived lack of strength was another cruel twist in the relationship. “Tighten up, what is the hell is the matter with you,” she’d scold, her impatience palpable. It was as if your struggles were a reflection of her own inadequacies and oh did she despised seeing you falter.

Shuri’s refusal to acknowledge her role in your issues, combined with her tendency to gaslight and dismiss every feeling you expressed, left you reeling. Her actions, from the callous remarks about any family issues to the cruel mind games she played with RiRi, spoke of someone who was deeply conflicted but unwilling to confront her own shortcomings.

Each time you thought you'd find a moment of understanding or solace in one another, Shuri would retreat back into her fortress of self-righteousness and emotional detachment. It was as if she viewed the relationship as a battleground, where the stakes were high and the only victory was maintaining control. Any attempts to address these issues were met with her trademark dismissal or cold logic.

In moments of clarity, you could see the cracks in her armor—the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability and the rare admissions of her own struggles. Yet, these moments were always fleeting, quickly buried under layers of her self-imposed duty and mental barricades. It was a dance between pain and disillusion, where love was twisted into a weapon rather than a source of comfort.

As you navigated the choppy waters of your relationship, it became clear that Shuri was trapped in her own cycle of paranoia and denial. Her inability to balance her personal and professional lives, combined with her tendency to prioritize her work over the connection you two once nurtured, created a volatile environment where genuine affection was often overshadowed by power struggles and emotional manipulation.

The realization of how deeply she was embedded in her own worldview left you grappling with your own emotions. You had to come to terms with the fact that your attempts to reach her or change the situation was no longer necessary. The love you once shared had become a thorn in your side. The high stakes were not just your feelings but your very sense of self-worth and emotional stability.

In the end, you were left to decipher the complexity of your union, trying to find a way to either bridge the gap or finally accept that this cycle of emotional manipulation and control was unsustainable. The journey was marked by moments of intense passion and deep pain, a testament to the intricate and often destructive nature of your once sacred connection. The combination of emotional distance, scheming, and outright cruelty created a relationship that was as painful as it was complex.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 5

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, angst and comfort, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: difficult conversation about the past, allusions to trauma, abuse, and body dysmorphia

wc: 1.8k

Chapter selection

I kept seeing glimpses of vigilantes after that night. Every Gothamite had a couple stories about seeing Masks, but five sightings in a week was weird, even after a villain prison break! So considering most of the major villains were behind bars or at Arkham at the time, and that most of these sightings were during the day, I was starting to get really weirded out. Signal made an amount of sense, but the rest of them were never seen during the day! And all of them just sort of standing around on rooftops and in alleys? Something was definitely up with the Gotham vigilantes. 

I mentioned it to Jason once. Only once. I had seen Nightwing and Robin whispering together in the alley behind my work. The looks on their faces when they saw me was too funny, and Nightwing's gravely “we were never here” before they grappling-hooked away had me wheezing. But the look on Jason's face told me just how unfunny he found it; for a minute I was concerned that he might try to fight them. I decided it was best to keep the sightings to myself after that; they weren't hurting anyone, most of the time they didn't even talk to me, and I didn't want him doing something stupid. Jason was so protective, and I wouldn't have him get hurt because of me.

Our relationship confused me a bit; in some ways we were moving very fast, but in others it was like we were at a standstill. Every day started with a good morning text, and ended with a good night call. Soon he was coming over every few days; sometimes we would cook together, but usually he brought takeout with him. We would eat and discuss the books we'd selected on our mall date. He would sit next to me on the couch; our knees would touch when we turned to face each other. Our hands would touch when I passed him a plate or a glass. Sometimes he would set his hand next to mine on the couch, and I'd rest my fingers over his. Every night on his way out he hovered by the door, and every night I thought he might lean in for a kiss, or a hug, or something. Instead, he'd stare for a minute, his face would turn pink and he'd mumble out a ‘g’night Doll’ and duck out. It would have been cute if it wasn't so frustrating.

I thought I was putting out all the right signals; I turned toward him when he spoke, didn't pull away when our hands touched, scooted closer when he sat next to me, leaned forward just a bit at the door. I wasn't sure if he was shy or uncomfortable, but I certainly didn't want to make it worse, so I wasn't sure how to get things moving.

Finally, after two months of this, I decided it was probably best just to ask him about it. I told him not to bring dinner, got everything to make one of his favorite comfort foods, and made sure it was ready when he arrived. His knock was quieter than usual, I almost didn't realize he had arrived. When I opened the door he had an unusually blank look on his face, like he'd put on a Halloween mask of himself.

“Hey Jay, … you alright?” I frowned slightly, moving to let him in. He hesitated before stepping inside.

“Yeah, I'm alright. How ’bout you?”

I led him to the dining room where the food was laid out. “I had a good day. I made that chili you like, and I- … are you sure you're ok? You look a bit tense.”

I had turned back to see him staring at the table, like he wasn't sure what he was looking at. “... You … cooked?”

“Um, yeah? … I know we usually cook together if we're not getting takeout, but the chili takes a few hours and I didn't think we’d want to wait until midnight to eat … is that ok?”

“... Y- yeah, that's ok … sorry, I … I thought …” he frowned, like his thoughts were a particularly complex puzzle he was trying to put together. “... I usually bring food, so … when you said not to I guess I assumed the worst.”

“Oh… oh! Did you think I didn't want to have dinner together?” He nodded awkwardly, staring at the table. “Oh Jason! I'm so sorry; I just wanted to surprise you with the chili. I love getting to eat together, promise!”

I smiled gently, holding my hand out to him. He slowly reached out and took it, squeezing a bit. “Me too… you … you're too nice to me, Doll.”

“No such thing. You feel ok now?” he nodded, smiling a little, and we sat to eat. The tension slowly eased out of his back as he ate. I tried not to stare too much, it seemed to make him a bit nervous, but I loved the look on his face when he was enjoying a meal. 

“... Jason, can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“... Is there a reason you haven't kissed me yet?”

He froze, looking over at me slowly. His cheeks were bright pink. “... W- was I supposed to?”

“Well, not necessarily supposed to, you don’t have to of course, but you could. … I just … Sometimes I think you will, but then it's like … you stop yourself? Is that right?”

“... I just … I don't …” he set his spoon down, chewing on his lower lip. “I'm … I don't want you to get hurt.”

I tilted my head a bit, confused. “... You're worried about hurting me?”

“Doll, I … you know who I am, right?” I nodded. “Do you … remember a few years back, I … was in the news alot?”

I nodded again; “yeah, … you were dead, and then you weren't.”

“... Yeah. I … I didn't … look like this before. … I was dead, and then I was back, and … I was suddenly in this body. I … I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. I still bump into things because I forget how big I am. I still break things when I think I'm being gentle. … I … I could seriously hurt you, and I don't want to, but … I don't know how to do any of this. I was a crime alley kid, and then I was learning to navigate life at Wayne Manor, and then I was dead. I've never done anything like this before, and I …” he took a deep breath, whispering; “I'm so worried I'm going to do something wrong, and you won't be able to forgive me…”

I slowly reached over, setting my hand next to his on the table. I hoped he’d take it, but I didn’t want to push. “... It sounds like you’ve been through a lot … too much.” He flinched a bit, looking away. “You had to figure out how to survive, and it sounds like you had to do it alone most of the time. … But you don’t have to figure this stuff out alone.”

His head jerked slightly, turning toward me but not looking up yet. “I don’t have a whole lot of experience either, but I think relationships are about figuring out life together.”

“... Most people don’t have so much they have to figure out though. You deserve better …” He whispered it, as if he was afraid I would agree with him.

I slid my fingers a bit closer to his, letting them rest against his just a bit. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t take my hand either. “I would take this with you over anything else with anyone else.”

“... What if I can’t give you what you want?”

“What I want is for us to keep spending time together. Can we do that?” He nodded. “Then nothing else matters. We’ll do things as we’re ready for them. And if we’re never ready for something, if you’re never ready, it will not matter to me nearly as much as getting to keep this. Ok?”

He nodded slowly, looking at our hands on the table. He slowly flipped his hand over, finally letting mine slide against his palm. His thumb gently stroked my knuckles. “... I still don’t know how to do this though… What if I do something wrong?”

“What kind of ‘doing something wrong’ are you worried about?”

“.... What if I want something you don’t?”

“Then we’ll talk about it, just like this.”

“... I’m not good at talking things out.”

“You’re doing pretty good so far. And I’ll learn to read your body language for those days where you can’t find words for your thoughts. We’ll just have to be patient with each other. Ok?”

“... Ok.” He continued to stare at my hand in his, running his thumb over my knuckles delicately. “... Can … next time, can you tell me if you have a surprise for me? This was really nice, but … most surprises in my life haven't been good ones.”

I nodded. “Of course. No more surprises without some kind of warning.”

 “Thanks ... I … I do want to kiss you, Doll …”

“I’d like that too.” His eyes slowly met mine, and for a brief moment I saw through the imposing man to the little boy he used to be; he wanted to love and be loved, wanted the easy touches and simple intimacies of normal life. But something between childhood and adulthood had obviously gone very, very wrong, and he had locked away those wishes to protect himself. The look in his eyes, like a dying man in the desert stumbling upon an oasis, broke my heart; being nervous in a new relationship was to be expected, but this was something else. Someone had hurt him, and if I ever found out who … I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d do, but I had a feeling I would end that day in handcuffs.

As quick as I saw it, that broken look in his eyes was replaced by a small glimmer of hope, and he slowly brought my knuckles to his lips. I could feel my face heating up as I watched his face; he seemed to be looking for something in my eyes.

“... M- my turn?”

He slowly nodded, letting me lean forward a bit. I guided his hand to my lips and, starting with the pinky, pressed a gentle kiss to the second knuckle of each finger. Jason stared me down, and with each kiss his face got pinker and pinker. When I placed the final kiss on his thumb his lips parted, releasing an almost inaudible high pitched whine.

In the next instant he had one hand in mine, and the other pressed firmly to his face to hide his bright red cheeks. I chuckled softly, offering him a coy smile; “that was a very pretty sound~”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60  @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a

[loveindefinitely]

O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.

I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.

I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.

Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.

Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day

-🐭

you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.

warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)

because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.

cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.

ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.

but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.

that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.

and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.

so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.

when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.

rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.

gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.

and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.

he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.

price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.

then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.

and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.

he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.

say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.

and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.

you'd been in for a long week.

this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work. 

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation. 

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested. 

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to. 

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home. 

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes. 

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week. 

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away. 

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said. 

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time. 

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked. 

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand. 

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said. 

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder. 

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows. 

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter. 

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.  

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said. 

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family. 

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.  

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you. 

“So you said he was struggling?” he said. 

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer. 

“What substances?” Colter asked. 

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well. 

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could. 

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.   

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks. 

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand. 

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. 

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.” 

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.” 

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.  

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck. 

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well. 

“Okay,” he said. 

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother. 

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise. 

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked. 

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said. 

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern. 

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy. 

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated. 

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy. 

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said. 

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them. 

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum. 

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide. 

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment. 

“Oh great,” you muttered. 

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look. 

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said. 

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked. 

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…” 

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.  

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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