#able to process it. through no fault of their own

[torahtot]

hi mommy i know ur in middle of getting divorced & u just gave me $50 last time i came home but can i have $100. can i have a plane ticket. can i. can i have. things sorry im annoying sorry i made ur life miserable sorry i never talk to u sorry im sorry

[stereax]

saw you post 'listen before you go', thought you'd enjoy this:

oh...

[ubike-official]

fuckkk gaming rlly is all psychological. Dr. K really was right. i knew all this and yet couldn't apply any of it. legit crying abt how like all this psychological stuff and mental blocks and other isms ive got came up while playing dnd and i was just weird and yea everyone did notice and was like "is she okay" like jgjfjdjsjs no I've got trauma that rears its ugly head in in new group settings regardless of context buts a me issue. this is so cringeeeeee

[heeliopheelia]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 

You feel awful. 

Jake feels even worse. 

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia

© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

[theemporium]

YAYYYYY I FOUND IT FINALLY

hi love hope ur doing well

can i request 💛and no.16 with lando?

thank u sm i love ur work🤍🤍

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

16. massaging them

.

“Oh fuck, that’s the spot.”

You couldn’t help but snort, the noise joyful and bashful. “Shut up, I have neighbours!”

“Not my fault you’ve got hands crafted by the gods themselves,” Lando retorted, his words slightly muffled by the way he buried his face in one of your pillows. “It feels good. I might have to replace Jon with you.” 

“I’ll pass,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement even if he couldn’t see. “You seem like a needy client.” 

He let out a high-pitched noise of complaint. “I’m a fucking delight, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly why you barged into my apartment demanding a massage,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your words. 

It was only partially an exaggeration to the truth. 

With summer break in full swing, it meant that Lando finally had time to relax and step away from the crazy, intense world that is Formula One. It meant he had time to spend with his family and friends that he didn’t usually get during the season, even when they came to race weekends. It meant he could pretend to feel a little normal, even if his life was far from it.

Except for the fact he still had to train like a Formula One driver. 

Which he was insistent he could do without the help of Jon. He insisted the man deserved a break of his own, to enjoy his vacation before they had to return to Woking later in the month. He insisted he would be able to follow his routine without the man watching over him. 

And he could do it. He just forgot the aftermath of it all, which was how he came storming into your apartment after his latest workout, whining and complaining about how stiff and sore he felt. And somewhere in his complaining, you agreed to do Jon’s job for him. 

“People don’t complain this much about helping their friends,” Lando commented, turning his head to the side so his cheek was squished against your pillow and his words were no longer muffled.

“People also don’t sound like they are filming a bad porno when they are getting a massage,” you shot back, finding some pleasure in the way Lando’s cheeks burned pink at your words. 

“Please,” he huffed out, clearing his throat in bed. He tried to stay light-hearted, playful, jokey. He tried to focus on the banter, rather than the way your hands felt across his skin. “This isn’t even close to what I sound like in bed.” 

“I know.” 

“I sound so—” He paused, his brows furrowing as he processed your response before snapping his head back to look at you. “What do you mean, you know?” 

“Carlos was your teammate,” you shrugged, trying to bite back your smile. “And he was always in the room next to you in hotels. He’s heard some stuff.” 

“I—” Lando tried to speak but words failed him. Memories flashed through his mind, nights he had spent in his hotel room alone. Nights where his hand was wrapped around himself with you on his mind and your name on his lips and—

“I’m kidding!” You laughed, unaware of his internal dilemma as you pushed him back down on the bed, your hands smoothing along the backs of his shoulders. “Carlos didn’t hear shit. I’m just winding you up.” 

“Pfft, yeah, I knew that,” Lando laughed nervously, his heart hammering in his chest despite your reassurance. “Carlos wishes he knew what I sounded like in bed.” 

“More like you wished you knew what he sounded like,” you snorted. “Your crush on Carlos wasn’t subtle.” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, burying his face into your pillow once again. “My crush on Carlos. Totally. That was it.”

.

[marysfics]

In the Silence of the Night

You’ve noticed that your girlfriend has been withdrawing a bit lately due to her busy work schedule. You really need her help with your medical injections, but you don’t want to add to her stress. You’ve tried doing it yourself, but it’s been more challenging than you thought it would be.

Angst, Needles, Fluff, Happy Ending

It was nearing 8 PM when you heard the front door finally creak open. You didn’t need to check to know it was Alexia. The sound of her duffel bag hitting the floor with a soft thud, followed by the weary sigh she let out, told you everything you needed to know. She’d had another long, draining day at the club, just like she had the day before… and the day before that.

You lifted your head slightly from where you were curled up on the couch, trying to suppress the flicker of hope that had bubbled in your chest all day. That small, irrational hope that maybe tonight she’d come in, smile, and ask how you were doing. Maybe she’d sit next to you, brush a kiss across your forehead, and offer to help with your injection like she always used to. But the moment was fleeting as soon as she stepped inside.

Without even looking your way, Alexia walked past the living room, her footsteps heavy as they disappeared down the hallway. "I’m just going to shower," she mumbled in your direction, the exhaustion dripping from her voice like water from a leaking tap. "I’ll be quick, I promise."

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You watched her disappear around the corner, the hum of the bathroom light flicking on soon after. And just like that, the bubble of anticipation burst, leaving nothing but a sinking weight in your stomach.

She didn’t ask how your day was. Not anymore.

Your gaze dropped to the small black case sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, your throat tightening. The case held the injections—your injections—the ones you’d always relied on Alexia to help you with. It had become a kind of routine between the two of you, an unspoken pact of support and care. You hated needles, but when she was the one doing it, it didn’t seem so bad. You always felt safe when she was by your side.

But lately… things had changed. She had changed.

You bit your lip, drawing in a shaky breath. You understood that she was busy. You really did. Being captain came with more responsibilities, and there were new players to help, more training sessions to oversee, more late-night meetings, more everything. You could see how much it weighed on her. And you didn’t want to be another burden.

Still, it stung. It stung that, even when she was finally home, she seemed distant, distracted. It stung that she didn’t seem to notice how much you’d been struggling, even though the signs were all there, clear as day. She used to notice everything. Now, she barely noticed you at all.

I’ll talk to her tonight, you told yourself, trying to push back the rising tide of frustration and doubt. She’s just tired. It’s not her fault. She’ll listen.

But as the minutes passed and the steady hum of the shower continued to echo through the walls, the doubt began to creep in. The words you’d been rehearsing in your head all day started to feel inadequate, too small for the growing gap between you. What if she brushed it off again? What if she said she didn’t have time?

You pressed your hands into your lap, your fingers twisting together nervously. The thought of doing the injection on your own tonight filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread. You could do it. You should be able to do it, after all these years. But the idea of going through the familiar process without her there, without her steady hands and calming presence, made your chest feel tight.

You heard the water stop, the shower shutting off with a quick squeak of the faucet, and moments later, the sound of Alexia padding back down the hallway reached your ears. She didn’t stop this time either—just a quick, tired, "I’ll be in bed," tossed over her shoulder as she headed straight to the bedroom.

You sat there for a long time after she disappeared. Long enough for the apartment to fall into a deep silence, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The case still sat on the table, staring back at you, waiting.

It wasn’t just the injection. It wasn’t just about the needle piercing your skin, or the act itself. It was what it represented. It was about the growing distance between the two of you, the way it felt like you were slipping further and further apart with each passing day. You didn’t want to feel like you were losing her, but you did. And what scared you most was the thought that she didn’t even realize it.

You rubbed your palms over your face, trying to shake the thoughts away. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe, if you waited long enough, Alexia would come back out, sit beside you, and everything would go back to how it used to be. You could hear her voice in your head, soothing and gentle: I’m here, cariño. I’m always here.

But tonight, she wasn’t.

And that thought was enough to leave you sitting in silence, the weight of the injection case heavier than it had ever been.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the silence in the apartment growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked toward the bedroom. The weight of the black case felt like an anchor dragging behind you, each step a reminder of the challenge ahead.

When you entered the bedroom, the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Alexia, who was already half-buried under the covers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the ache in your chest pushed you forward. You needed to talk to her. You needed her help.

You approached the bed slowly, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. “Alexia,” you said softly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Can we talk for a second?”

Alexia stirred, blinking sleepily as she turned toward you. She looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and fatigue. Without waiting for a full response, she leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to your lips. The gesture was familiar and comforting, but it felt rushed, almost automatic.

“Sorry, cariño,” she murmured against your lips, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so tired. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The issue was complicated, and you were too weary to fight for your point. You tried to start again, but your voice was barely a murmur, lost amidst the tangled blankets and Alexia’s already retreating sleep.

“Um… I just—” You tried to say, but she had already turned her back slightly, clearly ready to drift off again. “I need your help with…”

But the words wouldn’t come. The term injection seemed to lodge itself in your throat, too difficult to utter. Instead, you stood there feeling small and overwhelmed, the conversation slipping through your fingers like sand.

You sighed deeply, retreating from the bed. The small black case on the coffee table in the living room seemed to mock you now. The thought of trying to manage it yourself filled you with a mix of determination and dread. You had no choice. You needed to handle this on your own.

Returning to the living room, you took a deep breath and retrieved the case. Your hands were trembling as you set it up, the familiar steps feeling foreign and daunting without Alexia’s calming presence. You tried to remember each part of the process, focusing intently as you prepared the syringe.

The first needle prick was sharp and uncomfortable. You winced, struggling to keep your hand steady. The injection was awkward, and you knew it wasn’t going in smoothly. The needle wobbled, and you felt a sharp sting that was far more intense than usual.

When you finally finished, you pulled the needle out, but the skin around the injection site felt sore and swollen. The sensation of an impending bruise began to settle in. You looked at the result, the slight redness and unevenness telling you that it hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have.

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness. The injection was done, but it had left more than just a physical mark. The emotional weight of it all—trying to manage alone, the growing distance between you and Alexia, the unspoken words—was almost too much to bear.

Sitting down on the edge of the couch, you held your arm and looked around the room, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. You had managed to do it, but it was clear that things needed to change. You needed more than just a quick kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow. You needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

With a heavy heart and a painful bruise forming, you lay down on the couch, trying to push aside the frustration and hurt. As you stared at the ceiling, the quiet of the apartment felt like an echo of your inner turmoil. You were left alone with your thoughts, the ache of the day settling deep into your bones.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the curtains in a hazy, indifferent glow. You woke up to find Alexia already up and moving around the apartment, her movements quick and purposeful. It was clear she had another busy day ahead.

You stretched out beneath the covers, trying to muster the energy to join her. As she prepared to leave, you rolled over and reached out for her, hoping to get a few more moments of closeness. “Alexia,” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “Can we—”

She turned to you, her eyes tired but focused. She gave you a faint, distracted smile. “I’m sorry, cariño, but I really need to get going. The team has an early meeting today.”

You tried to pull her closer, wanting to cuddle up to her before she left, but she gently but firmly stepped back. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later, okay?” Her tone was soft but final, and before you could say another word, she was out the door.

You watched her go, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness. It wasn’t that you were trying to be clingy; you just needed more connection, more reassurance. But it seemed like every attempt to bridge the gap was met with increasing distance.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself increasingly withdrawn. You tried to distract yourself with small tasks, but the weight of the previous night and the ongoing tension with Alexia hung over you like a dark cloud. By evening, the thought of going to bed early to escape the pain seemed like the best option.

However, the reminder of your injection brought you back to reality. The small black case sat on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You had hoped Alexia would be home in time to help you, but she had texted you a brief message around 7 PM—“Hey, still at the club. Things are running behind. I’ll be home late. Miss you.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. You missed her too, but the text felt impersonal compared to the support you really needed. You glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and you knew you couldn’t put off the injection any longer.

You tried to psych yourself up, determined to handle it alone this time. But as you fumbled with the needle and the syringe, the anxiety and discomfort from the previous attempt came rushing back. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and your attempts at administering the injection were clumsy and painful.

After several failed attempts and tears of frustration, you felt a growing sense of despair. You couldn’t do it. The pain was too much, and the thought of another bruise or worse was overwhelming. You sat on the couch, feeling defeated and helpless.

In a moment of desperation, you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you found Alba’s number. Your fingers hovered over the screen, and then you pressed the call button. The phone rang, and as you listened to it ring, you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Hello?” Alba’s voice answered, calm and soothing.

“It’s me,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—I need help. I can’t do it. I’m so sorry to call you, but—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alba interrupted gently. “I’m on my way.”

When Alba arrived, she looked at you with a mix of worry and determination. You led her to the living room, where the black injection case was waiting on the coffee table. Her eyes fell on your bruised arm, and she winced.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.

“I tried to do it myself,” you said, your voice trembling. “It didn’t go well. I know it’s not right, but Alexia’s been so busy, and I didn’t want to bother her.”

Alba nodded, her expression resolute. “Alright, let’s figure this out. I’ve never done this before, but we’ll get through it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to remember how Alexia used to do it. “Okay, so you need to… first, clean the area with an alcohol swab. And then you have to make sure the needle is ready, and…”

Your words came out in a rush, filled with a mix of anxiety and desperation. Alba listened carefully, trying to follow your instructions as best as she could. You could hear her taking deep breaths, her voice steady despite the situation.

“Alright, I’ve got the swab and the syringe,” Alba said, her tone more confident now. “Just talk me through the rest.”

As you guided her, you felt a mixture of relief and tension. Alba was doing her best to stay calm, but you could hear the slight tremor in her voice. It was evident she was nervous, but she was trying not to let it show.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, trying to reassure both her and yourself. “Just remember to be gentle and to get it in quickly.”

Alba nodded, her hands steadying as she prepared the needle. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

You guided her through the final steps, your heart racing with every movement. When she finally managed to complete the injection, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing.

As Alba finished the injection, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders slowly begin to ease. She gave you a reassuring smile before heading out, promising to check in later. You sank into the couch, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Despite the relief from the injection, the emotional strain was heavy.

The weight of it all was too much. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and drifted off to sleep on the couch, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity and resolution.

A few hours later, the soft click of the front door woke you. You stirred, groggy and disoriented, as the familiar sound of Alexia’s footsteps filled the apartment. She must have come in quietly to avoid disturbing you. You squinted, struggling to sit up as she entered the living room.

Alexia paused when she saw you on the couch, her eyes immediately landing on the bruise on your arm. Her expression shifted from tiredness to concern as she approached you. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep here.”

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”

Alexia’s gaze flicked to the black case on the coffee table, the remnants of Alba’s visit still visible. It was then that a flicker of realization crossed her face. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she took in the situation—the injection kit, the bruise on your arm, the signs of distress etched into your features.

“Oh dios mio,” she murmured, her voice breaking with a mix of guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Her hand reached out to gently touch your arm, and the softness of her touch was both comforting and heartbreaking. “I should have been here for you. I didn’t know it was this bad.”

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so busy, and I thought… I thought I could manage on my own.”

Alexia shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, you shouldn’t have had to. I should have been paying attention. I should have been here.”

As the days passed, the efforts Alexia made to mend the rift between you were deeply moving. The grand gestures, the thoughtful surprises, and the sincere apologies helped to heal some of the wounds, but rebuilding trust was a journey that needed both time and patience.

You had forgiven her. The love you felt for her hadn't wavered; it was simply shadowed by the hurt of her absence and the loneliness you had felt. Forgiveness was a step forward, but you knew that true healing required more than just saying the words. It meant working together to rebuild the trust that had been fractured.

You began to talk openly about your feelings, your fears, and your needs. It was a new kind of dialogue for both of you, one that involved vulnerability and honesty. Alexia listened with an open heart, her understanding growing with each conversation. You both acknowledged that communication had faltered, but you were committed to changing that.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, you found a moment of clarity. “Alexia,” you said softly, “I’ve forgiven you, but it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust. I need us to keep working on this, to communicate better and to be there for each other.”

Alexia nodded, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. “I understand. I’m committed to working on this with you. I want to make things right, and I want us to be stronger than before.”

Her words were a balm to your wounded heart. The sincerity in her voice and the effort she was putting into making things right made a world of difference. You could see how much she wanted to be the partner you deserved, and that gave you hope for the future.

That night, as you lay in bed, Alexia held you close. The warmth of her embrace was a reminder of how much she cared, and it seemed to envelop you both in a cocoon of love and safety. You felt her breathing become uneven, and when you looked up, you saw tears glistening in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m so grateful that you still choose me, that you’re willing to work through this with me.”

Her tears fell softly onto your shoulder as she held you tightly, her emotion raw and genuine. You could feel the weight of her remorse and her overwhelming love. The sight of her crying, holding you with such deep gratitude, was both heartbreaking and reassuring.

“You’re my everything,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for giving us a chance, for choosing to be with me despite everything.”

You held her tightly, feeling her tears mix with your own. “We’ll get through this together,” you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. “I believe in us, and I believe in our future.”

In that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past began to dissolve. The trust that needed rebuilding was a journey, but you both knew that with love, effort, and open communication, you could create a stronger, more resilient bond. Alexia’s overwhelming love and gratitude were a testament to the depth of her feelings, and it filled you with a renewed sense of hope and commitment for the days ahead.

[little-diable]

A dare to kiss - Tyler Owens (smut)

I'll keep on riding the Tyler train till my ideas run out. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been best friends for years. But after another storm season, she finally snaps and realises she can't be around him any longer, not when her feelings for him won't let go of her. But perhaps the feelings aren't unrequited as she fears.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), friends to lovers, idiots in love, some angst, but a very happy ending

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.4k words)

“How old are you? Stop it, Boone!” (Y/n)’s voice dripped with annoyance, eyes flickering from her friends and colleagues down to her drink. It had been their last day of chasing, saying goodbye to another season that had been filled with exciting but also horrible moments they all haven’t quite processed just yet.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s just a kiss!” Boone excitedly clapped his hands while he let his gaze wander from (y/n) to Tyler, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. They no longer knew who had started their annual game of truth and dare, passing a few hours where they got to spill secrets, fears, and do harmless dares to end the night with stomachs that hurt from laughing too much.

At least it had always been like that until this very dare, something that clearly went too far for her aching heart. Her feelings for Tyler were no secret, they all knew of the feelings she harboured for her best friend – all but Tyler, who obliviously chased other women while (y/n) was forced to suffer around him. 

“Give her another dare, Boone.” Tyler’s voice drew all eyes towards him, ripping their hope of finally being able to push the two of them together into shreds. They were too focused on Tyler to pick up on the hurt crossing her features. It was her own fault, she should have just kissed him, should have crossed the distance between them while the chance had been right there for her to grasp. A chance that had passed the second Tyler had spoken up.

“You know what, I’m tired anyway, I’ll head back to the motel.” She rose to her trembling feet, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket to hide the fists she had balled them into from their confused eyes. She didn’t wait for them to speak up, turned from them with an aching heart and allowed the darkness to swallow her while almost jogging back to her room. 

Even though (y/n) hated parting from the group, not wanting to leave them that early on their last evening together, she needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. Staying this close to Tyler for the past weeks had been more exhausting than she had thought it would be, unable to endure his closeness any longer. She should look forward to returning home, to quiet hours where she won’t have to worry about hiding the feelings she hadn’t been able to let go of for the past years. 

The door to her room fell shut behind her, letting the silence wrap itself around (y/n) while she wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Curses rumbled through her, she felt as if she was drowning, unable to breathe while the room closed in on her. Her body started moving without listening to her mind's command. She threw all her stuff into her bag, hastily reaching for her things as her vision grew more blurry. 

She needed to get away, needed to make it home, she couldn’t stand being around him for another minute. She left the room with her heart in her throat, forced to a sudden halt before she could collide with Dexter. His hands shot out to catch her should she fall, drawing her tear stained features up towards him. 

“Oh, (y/n). What’s going on?” She let her head fall against his chest, searching the closeness of the man who had always treated her like his daughter, the first one she had told her feelings for Tyler to. A sob wrecked through her, forcing him to tighten his hold on her to keep (y/n) close. 

“I need to leave, I can’t do this any longer, Dexter. Here, this is my room key.” She pushed the key into his hand, trusting him to take care of checking her out in the morning. His hand ran up and down her spine in a comforting manner, set on soothing the pain she felt all too clearly. Another sob left (y/n) before she stepped out of the embrace. “Tell the others I’m sorry and that I’ll reach out soon.”

(Y/n) squeezed his hand one last time, trying to put on a soft smile for the man who stared down at her with pity swimming in his pupils. She felt his eyes on her as she jogged towards her truck, set on driving through the night to make it home before the sun would paint the horizon in bleeding colours.

……

“Hey, it’s me again. It’s been a while, and I really need to see you, (y/n). We need to talk, call me back, please.” 

She woke to new voice messages every single day since leaving a few weeks ago. At first Tyler had voiced out his disappointment and confusion, not understanding why she had left him just like that. And then the sadness had entered the picture, begging (y/n) to call him back because he missed her and was sorry for whatever he had done to her. And now his voice no longer carry any emotions, monotonous and unfamiliar without any nicknames he’d normally use. 

(Y/n) knew it was time for her to finally reach out to him, to bury her own sadness and her embarrassment and to call her best friend, if she could still call him that. Her hands shook as she clicked onto his contact, listening to it ring five times before he answered with a whisper of her name. 

“Hi,” no further word managed to leave her. She listened to him exhale, shuffle around before speaking up.

“Are you at home today? I’d come round to see you.” A part of her screamed at her to say no, knowing that she shouldn't meet him at home, the one place where she had managed to focus on her feelings, giving her space to think about them properly. But the stronger part knew it would be less awkward to see him here than somewhere else where they could easily run into fans. 

“I am.” His hum shot shudders down her spine, forcing her to fist the blanket she had tossed over her cold legs. 

“I’ll be over around three, see you then.” He ended the call before another word could leave her. Her stomach was churning, not used to his cold voice and how he spoke to her as if she was a business contact or a stranger almost. 

(Y/n) let her phone drop into her lap while she sank further into her couch. What would she even tell Tyler? She wasn’t ready for his rejection, wasn’t ready to mess up what was still remaining of their friendship. Even though she couldn’t stand being close to him for longer than a few hours, (y/n) also knew that life without Tyler by her side wasn’t worth living. 

……

“There you go.” She pushed the coffee towards Tyler who was leaning against the kitchen island, right across from her. His eyes followed her every move, ever since a rather awkward hug and exchanged pleasantries that felt as if they didn’t know one another at all. He shot her a grateful smile before taking a sip, not letting his gaze leave her nervous features once. “How are you?”

“Cut the bullshit, (y/n). Wanna tell me why my best friend ran from me and then decided to ghost me for the past weeks?” Her heart sank, letting her guilt settle deep inside her stomach. Her eyes found interest in studying her trembling hands, not daring to get lost in Tyler’s angry expression. 

“I’m sorry, I was just so exhausted with it all. I needed some time away.” A humourless laugh clawed through Tyler, a sound that finally forced her eyes back towards him. 

“You’ve never been good at lying. What is this really about, huh? Why did the others all seem to understand what’s going on, but you couldn’t tell me?” His voice carried his hurt, dripping with sadness and anger she also felt flushing through her system. 

“It's nothing you need to worry-“ the sound of his palm coming down on her kitchen island interrupted her, forcing her pupils to widen as he shook his head at her. It felt as if she was looking at a stranger, not once had she seen Tyler this hurt and angry, never directed at her at least.

“Just be honest, (y/n)! I’m supposed to be your best friend, or is this what this all is about? Do you no longer want to be-“ now it was on her to interrupt him.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” And then they were engulfed by nothing but silence. The seconds faded by, turning into almost a full minute of Tyler just staring at her with an unreadable expression. It seemed as if he was combing through his every moment with her, reliving all the past years to figure out how he could have missed this. His silence forced her lips to part again, knowing that she needed to say some more. 

“I tried to let go of it, I really did. But being around you made it impossible for me. I am sorry, I just needed some time alone. And then that dare, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but it would have been my end, and I couldn’t risk losing that last shred of sanity I had in me.” Her whispers lured Tyler closer, letting her watch him round the kitchen island to come to a halt in front of her. 

“Look at me, darling.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of the nickname, taking some fear from her trembling body. Slowly she raised her gaze, looking up at him with glassy eyes as he cupped her cheeks with his big hands. “I’m sorry it took me this long to see it, but I was quite occupied with hiding my own feelings from you.”

Tyler’s words left her frozen, staring at him with confusion laced in her gaze. Her mind was racing, letting his words sink in to understand what he had just told her. A soft chuckle rumbled through him, “Will you let me kiss you? No dare this time.” 

She shifted her weight onto her toes, letting her lips collide with his. Tyler instantly replied to the touch, kissing (y/n) breathless while his hands moved down her sides. She deepened the kiss with a soft moan clawing through her, allowing his tongue to meet hers. Both their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests as if they had just returned from another chase, losing themselves in the adrenaline that still buzzed through them. 

Tyler parted from her for a moment, hands wandering down her thighs to pick her up and place her down on the kitchen island. For the first time since she had started being with partners, she truly felt weightless, trusting Tyler fully with whatever he had in mind. Slowly, he connected their lips again, kissing her to stop her racing thoughts from overthinking what was about to happen.

“Do you want this? Do you want to be touched by me?” His voice was raspy, deeper than it had been before - details that made her walls flutter in excitement. 

“Please, touch me, Tyler.” The hum he let go of was drowned out by her gasp as he pushed her back down on the kitchen island, feeling his wandering hands find their way to her pair of shorts. He pulled the fabric down her legs, panties following moments later to expose her lower body to his piercing eyes.

“What a beautiful sight, it was worth waiting for all these years.” Heat rose up her neck, spurred on by his praises. Carefully he touched her, letting his fingers brush through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin. Goosebumps littered her body as if she was trapped in a cold room, unable to stop shaking. And yet her body was burning up, set ablaze by his touch. 

“I need to taste you, can I, baby?” Nothing but a moaned “yes” left (y/n). His tongue felt rough against her pulsing bundle, letting the sensation zap through her aching body like lighting. She tried to find something to hold on to, and yet her fingers could only wander to his head to tug on his almost golden roots. 

“Jesus fuck, why haven’t we done this sooner?” (Y/n)’s words left Tyler chuckling against her heat. The sound vibrated on her skin, pushing her even closer towards the edge.

“Seems like I ain’t doing my job well enough if you can still speak.” He was urging himself to move his tongue quicker while pushing two fingers into her heat. Her walls clenched around his fingers, drawing him even closer in while her orgasm crept closer and closer. A moan clawed through (y/n), letting it reverberate through the air as Tyler sucked on her pulsing bundle. 

“Atta girl, I got you, pretty.” He comforted her, cozied her along to finally push her over the edge. His name left her parted lips like a prayer, unable to think of any other thing to say as she felt the blinding sensation wander up her limbs. (Y/n) came without a warning, back arched off the cold kitchen island top. 

Tyler kept lapping at her folds to guide her through her high before he pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh. He moved up her body, hands stroking their way up her sides until he cupped her warm cheeks to pull her in for a kiss. 

“I love you, darling, and I promise to make up for all the time we’ve lost.” 

[changetyre]

I'll never forgive myself II Mafia!Carlos Sainz X Reader

SUMMARY: Carlos's circle was small, extremely small considering his job and the fact he was a single father. You being the nanny to his son was the only person he had a different kind of trust a full, whole, and complete trust.

WARNINGS: Minor injuries, attempted kidnapping, screaming, angst/comfort.

A/N: Short but again please have patience with me cause I am slowly getting out of my block.

"Emanuel be careful!" You yelled to the 6-year-old kid at your care as he excitedly climbed up the stairs to the slide in the park close to home that you visited every day.

"Y/N Look Look!" Manu screamed as he positioned himself atop the slide ready to glide down.

"Wow! You're so-" You were distracted by the aggressive sound of tyre screeching.

You saw a black car stop in front of the park, two men getting out quickly hopping out the car as they rushed towards Emanuel.

"EMANUEL COME HERE!" You were faster than you'd ever done in your life towards him as you pressed the small button on the bracelet Carlos had made for you, a matching one adorning Manu's wrist. A panic button.

"Y/N!" Emanuel yelled your name scared as he sensed the sudden danger.

Emanuel was at the top of the slide and you were just able to reach it just before the men closed in.

"EMANUEL!" In desperation, you yanked him down from the top of the slide injuring him slightly in the process.

You clutched him tightly against your chest as you started running the men close behind you.

"SOMEBODY HELP!" You screamed in deep fear as you could feel the presence of the men right there.

You felt them clutch your hair and in pure instinct, you dropped Emanuel. "MANU RUN!" You yelled hoping to at least deter the men giving Manu a chance to run while Carlos and his men arrived.

You were yanked backward with force but didn't let your mind process the pain as you immediately clutched at both men holding them back from getting to Manu.

"PAPA!" You heard Manu's sobs although felt relief as you heard more tires screeching and soon after the men running away.

You rushed to get up getting to Emanuel.

"Manu, are you okay?" You held his face trying to examine him for injuries, your heart skipping a beat at the small bruise forming on his temple probably from when you yanked him off the slide.

"PAPA!" Manu screamed as he continued sobbing terrified. He got up running away towards his father who had quickly found his way to his son.

"Emanuel estás bien? (are you okay?)" Carlos examined his son as you did noticing the bruise, his eyes darkened in anger.

"Tras ellos! (go after them!)" He yelled at his men as they got in their cars to chase after the men.

"Carlos they came out of nowhere I-" You got up suddenly feeling the piercing pain shooting through your body from the way you were yanked back.

"You should've paid more attention!" Carlos screamed at you angrily as she held Emanuel trying to soothe him.

"Carlos I was-" Your attempts at explaining were futile.

"Why were you even here alone! You're fucking smarter than this! He got hurt and it's all your fault!" Carlos was seething, completely blinded by his anger and his terrified child in his arms.

"I'm sorry I-" This time you were fighting to talk through your own tears both of guilt and pain. Carlos had never raised his voice with you, even less after you started getting closer, crossing the line of boss-employee.

"Get in the fucking car!" He cut you off once more.

The car ride back to the house was silent except for the sniffles of both you and Emanuel.

"Y/n are you okay?" Emanuel asked from the car seat next to you on the back seat.

"I'm fine Manu. I'm sorry I hurt you." you held his small hand.

"It's okay, you were trying to save me." Manu offered you a small smile tugging at your heartstrings. "You're bleeding." He pointed out at your fingers.

You had some blood probably from cluthing at the men trying to stop them from getting to Manu.

"I'm okay." You quickly hid your hands away from him offering him a smile of your own.

You pulled up at the house and once again Carlos didn't say a word although you could tell he had significantly calmed down. He grabbed Emanuel taking him inside.

You watched them go taking a second to yourself as the pain you know felt across your whole body was presenting itself fully. You struggled to undo your belt and get out of the car with ease.

Once you got inside you could hear the shower running and you knew Carlos was getting Manu cleaned up giving you some time to clean yourself up before needing to look after Manu again...if Carlos would even want you to again.

Carlos POV:

"Manu, are you sure you're okay?" Carlos asked his son for the umpteenth time as he brushed his hair.

"Yes, Papa I just got scared but y/n protected me," Manu replied as he played with his figurines.

Carlos's heart ached knowing he was entirely too harsh on you but the terror that invaded his body was unlike anything he'd felt before when he saw you'd activated your panic button, it was something he wished you'd never had to use. As he drove to you and Manu a million terrifying thoughts raced through his head of what could be happening.

Once he turned the corner he saw the way you dropped Manu as the men yanked you back, you fighting to keep them away from his son. He was terrified for Emanuel but equally terrified for you which translated to anger. He was surprised at his own emotions taking over him, evidencing how much he truly cared for you.

"You were mean to her Papa." Carlos was snapped out of his thoughts. He looked at his son through the mirror in front of them, a frown on his son's face.

"I know Manu. I was very mean." Carlos admitted ashamed.

Once he got Manu to bed he knew he had to go see you. He walked to your room, he heard the shower running and he took the liberty to step in.

He saw your clothes, a few rips in them making a mental note to get you knew clothes tomorrow. He stripped before heading into your bathroom.

His heart broke at the sight of you. Watered blood rushed down your shaking body as you cried. Your back was facing the door so you didn't see him come in but the glass walls of the shower permitted him to see the fresh scratches on your back.

Carlos opened the shower door stepping in with you. You jumped when you felt his arm snake around your waist.

"Shh it's me, baby," Carlos whispered.

You continued crying, looking down and avoiding his eyes.

"I'm so sorry for screaming at you." Carlos turned you around gently careful not to hurt you further.

"I tried to protect him. I swear I did everything I could." Your eyes were puffy from all the crying you'd done which only broke Carlos's heart further. He hated himself for being the cause of it.

"I know. I know baby. You did, you protected him. He's safe." Carlos pulled you close kissing your temple and he felt you finally relax on his chest.

"I'm really sorry." You cried in his chest.

"No shhh. I'm sorry, I'll never forgive myself for screaming at you. I'm sorry I was just so scared." Carlos apologized again and again.

You finally looked up to meet his eyes, your crying dying down. You nodded accepting his apology. "My body really hurts."

Carlos leaned down pressing his lips to yours in a reassuring kiss. "I'll take care of you baby. Just let me take care of our family." He kissed you again.

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men having a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt.1

characters: fem!reader x rengoku, giyuu

PT 2 with Sanemi HERE

AN: the long awaited request is finally here!! sorry for the delay! im in college and finals week was crazy! but the semester is over and i'm ready to get back to it with a bunch of new content for you guys! <3

RENGOKU

when he comes home from a mission to find the house completely trashed and a trail of blood leading to the bedroom he freezes

his first thought is that you're dead

someone or something has broken in

and he wasn't here to protect you

immediately blames himself

and poor kyo just can't force himself to walk in the bedroom only to discover your broken bleeding body

his heart couldn't take it

its not until he hears movement and small noises of pain that he pushes the bedroom door open

only to discover you hiding in the corner of the room covered with a blanket

relief

until he pulls the blanket from your head to see what you've turned into

he doesn't react

doesn't talk

doesn't move

doesn't even breathe

just stares at you

until you manage to croak out his name

this snaps his mind into high gear

immediately thoughts of the young Kamado girl are running through his head

she has never hurt a human and seems to do just fine

and if you were going to harm him you would have done it already

quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to avoid the sunlight peaking through the curtains and carries you to the bed to set you down

scribbles a note to the head of the corps to inform him of your condition

and spends the rest of the day and that night comforting and reassuring you because of what had to have been a traumatic night

a week or so passes

you fall back into your old routine of caring for the house

and its quite obvious that you're becoming depressed

no longer able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and being cooped up in the house for your own safety

it isnt until a young man wearing the head of a boar bursts headfirst through the window

breaking the glass, ripping down the curtains

with a "comin through!"

that you realize the sunlight doesn't harm you like it does to other demons

leave it to inosuke lmao

when kyo returns home from another mission around noon

imagine his surprise when his demon SO bursts through the front door into the sun

and into his arms

takes a minute for him to process that you're not burning up

"oh my god we have to get you inside NOW"

the poor man is having a heartattack

but then he sees your smile and hears your laugh for the first time since the attack

finally he's able to realize that the sun has no effect on you

and he's picking you up and swinging you around in a giant hug

i just know he gives the best hugs

i'd let him crush me to death in one

of course kyo is still sometimes crushed with guilt

he blames himself for your transformation in the first place

but the most important thing is that you're safe and happy again

GIYUU

why can't this man ever just be happy

when you don't show up at your usual meeting place with Giyuu in between missions he knows somethings up

he rushes to your home

and there you are

sitting on the steps in front of your house

covered in blood and in tears

it isn't until he gets closer that he realizes what has happened

he has no words

everyone that giyuu has ever loved has been taken from him

and he allowed himself to love you

thats why this has happened

blames himself even though it obviously not his fault

still not speaking he looks at the sky to see the sun

and then back at you

a demon

who isn't affected by the sunlight in the slightest

and isn't attacking him

and then he disappears

when he returns several hours later it's dark outside

and with him he's brought Shinobu and the Kamado siblings

one of which is a demon

Shinobu checks you over and determines that the blood you are covered in is indeed yours

but any wounds you had have already healed

Nezuko senses what you are but seems to know that you're docile and snuggles up to your side as a comfort

and Giyuu just watches quietly

when Nezuko has fallen asleep her brother picks her up giving you a sad smile before he leaves

Giyuu helps you stand and brings you inside

he runs a bath so you can clean urself off

and goes about cleaning the house which was destroyed during your attack

it isn't until you're in bed that Giyuu lays behind you, tugs you close to him, and speaks to you for the first time

"i am staying with you. and i WILL turn you back."

and those two sentences bring you all the comfort in the world

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Hey, Good Omens fandom and maggots, it's your mascot Asmi here. I don't need to explain why I'm making this post, I'm sure you already know the situation and have read the articles about Neil Gaiman.

Thank you to the kind people who asked me how I am and how I'm dealing with the whole thing. I am, as I'm sure a lot of you are, overwhelmed, sad, and sick to the stomach. My life IRL is messy at the moment, and this news is not something I'm able to fully process.

I'm sure there were be more emotions, anger, betrayal, the whole thing, in time. Right now, there's just sadness and exhaustion.

Some of you have asked me for my opinion. I don't think I'm qualified to give one, since right now I'm lost and overwhelmed and could be wrong about a lot of things.

But I will say, though, that there is no good way to look at this. At the very least, there were relationships with extreme power imbalance, with an employee and a fan, and with large age gaps. Whatever you may speculate about the SA, you cannot deny those facts. It's not a question of whether or not Neil did anything wrong, the only thing we are getting updated on is exactly how much he did wrong. By wrong I don't mean just illegal. Not all unhealthy relationships are illegal.

I'm not going into more detail on the subject because, first, I don't have the energy to get the details. I've never bothered actively keeping up with the real lives of any celebrity, and as some of you remember, I didn't even know Neil or Michael Sheen or David Tennant existed at the start of January. And right now, I don't have a lot of information and I don't have the emotional energy to go searching through the internet for it. If you're feeling that too, I want to tell you that's okay. Take a step back. Take care of yourself first.

Secondly, I have my own trauma regarding SA, and I'm trying to avoid spiraling. I'm sending all the love and support to victims of SA, it was never your fault and you are valid in all your emotions.

As for the fandom. I hope you support each other in the sadness and anger and all the emotions, as you always have. This is going to be rough journey, but the community is there for you. Disregard people who use this horrible situation as a way to justify transphobia and general queerphobia and hate speech. Those are never okay. Disregard people who attack you for feeling hurt or betrayed. Those emotions are valid, and this is a sickening situation, there is no way to pretend otherwise.

There are going to be a lot of people saying a lot of things now, and I suppose by writing this I'm one of them, but above all, I'm sending you love and support, we're in this together. Be there for each other, step away from the internet if you need a break, and take your time to process.

If I've said anything wrong, I'm really sorry, I'm writing this post in an absolute haze, but I knew I couldn't stay silent. Feel free to correct me or to speak your mind, but remember, be kind. Be kind to each other.

I love you.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Once Upon A December

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Of all the things your heart used to know, things it years to remember, Bucky Barnes is at the top of that list.

A.N. - I feel like you guys just haven't been made aware, but one thing about me, I love a good musical.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Anon's Birthday Celebration

Bucky softly swallows the air that seems to get more sparse as he thinks, truly thinks, about his latest conclusion. "I just - I think it's time."

His hands fold together, he hunches over, barely able to tear his eyes off the ground.

"I can't tell you what to do here, Buck."

"I know."

"Do what you think is best."

"Best?" He bitterly chuckles. "There is no best. I just - I'm hurtin' the both of us by holding on. And I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I feel so guilty every time I look at her." Bucky lightly gasps for air. "And God, I - Sometimes, I think that maybe that's the reason I'm the only one she doesn't remember."

Steve grips Bucky's shoulder, "Buck... it wasn't your fault."

"How do I let her go?" Bucky brokenly whispers. "How do I mourn the love of my life when I know she's right there, she's alive?"

Steve finds himself at a loss for words. There was no answer. Nothing he could say. It was a truly impossible situation. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head, clearing his throat, "I should go talk to her."

"I think she was in your - in her room."

Bucky winces at the correction. It wasn't their room anymore. Now, it was your room. He'd given you the space to try to regain that void in your memory.

And yet, it's all so painfully familiar. It's muscle memory. Walking to your room. Knocking on your door. The only difference is now, it doesn't feel like coming home, it feels more like the procession to his own funeral.

"James..." Your tone is flat, unsure as you open the door. He hates the guilt glistening in your eyes. He sees it every time you look at him. He hates that he's the one that made you feel that way.

When it first happened, when he first realized that he was nothing but a blurry figure dancing through your memory, he tried telling you.

He tried filling every detail of your epic love story in your mind. He tried forcing himself back into your memories. Nothing brought back the look of love and adoration in your eyes.

He offers a heavy smile, "Hi. Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping away from the door to allow him into his former home. The place looks the same, with the notable exception of the traces of him.

You settle on the couch. He sits on the small loveseat, perpendicular to you. "How are you?"

He licks his lips, offering a small shrug, "I start therapy in a few days again."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

Your voice is far more curt than you intend, "I didn't remember anything if that's what you're asking."

His heart stammers, "No. That's not what I meant."

"Sorry, I didn't sleep very well. Not that it's an excuse."

"Nightmares?"

"Just the same one." You're not sure how much detail he cares to hear, but the way he waits for you to continue is almost a comfort. Your eyes squeeze shut as the memory plays on a loop. "I - I don't remember the mission. Just bits and pieces. I was alone. On the rooftop. And then I see the HYDRA agent's face. When they push me. That's where the nightmare starts... I fall. It's dark. I can hear someone screaming my name. And it's over."

"You weren't alone on the roof."

"What?"

"I was on the roof with you. We were scoping out the area. They came out of nowhere."

Your eyes widen. It clicks. The sound of the voice screaming after you. It almost perfectly matches the timbre of his voice. Only now, his voice sounded strained, tried. "You were screaming my name."

Bucky nods, "I jumped after you. I didn't make it in time. I found you laying in your own blood."

"I'm sorry, James."

He hates the sound of his name so formal leaving your mouth. He can't help himself as he speaks, "You never used to call me that."

"Oh?"

A sad smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth, "You only called me James when you were upset. Or when I was annoying you."

A light chuckle leaves your lips, "What did I call you when you weren't annoying me?"

"Bucky. Buck." He shrugs. He swallows the knot forming in his throat, his voice wavering, "A lot of pet names. I pretended to hate it, but I didn't."

You look up to see tears shining in his eyes. His voice breaks as he continues on, "You called me Sarge when you were joking or being flirty."

You reach forward, squeezing his hand. A tight knot forms in your throat, "I'm sorry I can't be the girl you remember."

He looks down at the warmth of your hand resting on his. He's acutely aware that this is the first time you've initiated contact with him since you forgot him.

He swallows back his tears, "You didn't take off your ring."

"It didn't feel right to." You start sliding the ring off, "I should probably give it back."

He immediately stops you, "Keep the ring."

"Steve said it was your mother's. I couldn't."

He shakes his head, his heart clenching with pain, "I won't need it."

You rest your hand on your chest. Your heart yearns to remember him, to remember his place in your life. It was right there. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. You could feel the memory of him glowing in the recesses of your memory, glowing as dim as an ember.

You were so close, and yet, it wasn't enough. "I want to remember. I so badly do."

He stroke a stray hair out of your face. Sitting this close to you, he takes a long moment to memorize every detail. The slope of your nose. Your eyes. Your lips. He knows he'll never be this close to you again.

He had to stop hurting you. He had to stop hurting himself.

"I know."

You rest your forehead against him. It feels both so foreign and so familiar all at once.

"Can I - Can I kiss you?" he asks. "Just one last time."

You nod, your heart shattering at the sound of the hurt in his wavering voice.

His flesh hand rests against your cheek. Your breath shudders, dancing across his lips. His nose brushes against yours. Once. Twice. You find yourself leaning forward, closing the distance. His lips brush against yours hesitantly at first. You can't help but notice the way they mold against yours perfectly.

The song that vaguely echoed in the back of your mind gets louder and louder, echoing with thoughts of him. The memory of him rattles against your skull, begging you to remember.

Your hand moves from its place on the cushion to his shoulder. Slowly, it creeps down to rest just above his racing heart. You hum against his lips, pulling yourself away from him.

You look up at him, your eyes shining up at him like they once used to. "Bucky?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Anon's Birthday Celebration

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[lxkeee]

Hi!! I absolutely adore/love your works!🥰💕 Also if you do accept a request can you do platonic with reader as the second child of Lucifer and Lilith!

If your requests are closed you can just ignore this and have a good day/night!😁

TO-DO LIST

—Father! Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter! Reader [Platonic]

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Synopsis: Lucifer promised himself to do better, making a to-do list to keep track of what he needed to work on. Including mending his broken relationship with his second daughter.

Notes: will be making a male version of this later.

Additional Notes: anon didn't specify what scenario it is so I just winged it and made up a scenario of my own.

Progress, sure it's slow but progress is progress no matter what the speed of the process is. Lucifer sighs softly to himself, his right hand holding a fountain pen and his left holding a notepad. Moving his hand as he fluidly crossed out something from the paper.

Organize my room. Done.

He smiled proudly at himself, admiring his work. His bedroom is now neat and tidy, the pile of rubber duckies are now stored away properly. Some are used as decorations but the others were hidden somewhere. He made sure to display his proudest creations, such as the backflipping and fire breathing rubber duckie he recently just made.

He promised himself and Charlie that he'll be better. He thanked himself for allowing himself to visit his daughter's hotel. There, he was able to reconnect with her.

His eyes became heavy as his gaze landed on the very last goal he wanted to achieve. Reconnect with [y/n].

Reconnecting with Charlie was easy as the girl was like an exact copy of him. [Y/n] on the other hand is the copy of Lilith, his ex-wife.

Sure, she has his qualities but personality wise. Lilith.

He and [y/n] stopped communicating with one another after he and Lilith split. Guilt. He felt guilty.

He avoided his second daughter as she reminded him so much of her mother.

It's not [y/n]'s fault, nor is it his. He was just grieving, grieving over a love that lasted for so long and suddenly fell apart.

He couldn't process it properly and hurt his daughters in the process.

He doesn't even know what [y/n] is up to lately. Last he remembered is that she took over some things around the kingdom as he was quite useless during these past seven years.

What a shitty father he is. He couldn't protect his daughter. He wonders how much his daughter is going through by temporarily taking his place for the meantime. He could just imagine those filthy sinners looking at her with those disgusting eyes. The harsh words, the objectification.

He just wants to shelter and adore both of his daughters, okay?

Lucifer sighs softly, hand gripping the notepad.

He wants to reconnect so badly but he's being too much of a coward.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's doing all of these tasks because he's prolonging the inevitable of talking to [y/n].

Running away like he always does.

Before he could self destruct like he always does when facing a problem, he could remember Charlie's words, “Healing takes time and you shouldn't rush things if you're not ready. Take one step at a time.”

Lucifer calms down, right. Take my time. I should use this to think about what I should say to her.

Progress, just like Charlie has said.

Slowly and surely, goals that were written down are crossed out one by one.

It took a few weeks at most but he's finally done. Taking out his pen and crossing something out of the notepad.

Try to understand sinners. Done.

His eyes landed on his final goal. Reconnect with [y/n].

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his fast beating heart. He's nervous, that's an understatement because he is downright terrified.

Finally picking up his phone, tapping on to the screen to look for his contacts.

Finally seeing [y/n]'s contact, her profile a rubber duck version of her that he had made.

Taking a deep breath, trying to remember what he planned to say. Finally, his fingers hit the call button.

Ringing. It's ringing.

His fingers taps along the table of his office nervously, waiting for her to accept his call.

“Father...?” [y/n] answers hesitantly from the other line and his heart almost leaped out of his chest. He cringed a little, after his relationship with his second daughter fell apart. She started calling him father instead of dad. Which sounded way too formal for his liking.

Taking a deep breath, he needs this to be perfect.

“Hey sweetie... I am just calling because I am wondering how you have been?” he says, stuttering a little.

The other line went silent for a few moments before she answered, “Are you okay? This has been the first time you've called me in the last... 5 years. Do you need something father?”

He could practically hear doubts in her voice, imagining that she's raising an eyebrow at him at the moment.

“Are you busy at the moment...?” he asked softly and he could hear the deep sigh from the other line, he could practically hear the disappointment from the sigh she let out.

She probably thought he only called her for a favor. What a bad father he is, really.

“Not at the moment, why?”she asked.

“Can I visit?” he asked hesitantly and the line went silent once more.

“Why...?” she asked, he flinches from the question.

“Can't I visit my daughter now?” he asked, jokingly. He can practically imagine her deadpanning at him.

“Surprised to hear you still call me your daughter, I'm sure I didn't feel it for the last seven ish years.”

He flinches, yeah. He hurt her a lot.

“I know [y/n]... I was a horrible father to you and you didn't deserve that treatment but... I want to be better. For you and Charlie... So please? Can I see you...?” he pleaded softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear her breath hitched from the other line, followed by a sigh.

“Alright, fine. You can come over.” she says, defeated. No matter what he did, she'll always look for her dad.

The phone call ends and Lucifer takes a deep breath, calming himself before eventually teleporting to the other side of the pride circle, where his daughter's office is located.

He immediately teleported to her office, seeing her working on her desk, typing out on her laptop.

Without giving her time to process, he immediately went to her side. Pulling her up from her seat making her yelp in surprise and hugging her.

“Dad?!” she yelped in surprise, surprised by the warmth her father gave her after seven long years. The male hugged her waist. [Y/n]'s eyes soften as she returns the hug.

“I know I treated you so horribly and I cannot justify my actions. You have been nothing but the best daughter to me and I pushed you away. For that I am sorry, please forgive me.” Lucifer pleaded softly, crying silently against her suit.

“I should've been there for you as you lost your mother but I made it all about me. You had to take over my work while also grieving. I should've been more competent but I pushed all my responsibilities to you and for that I am deeply sorry for hurting you.”

[Y/n] stayed silent, crying silently as she hugged her father. She misses him so much.

“And for that, I hope you know that I am very much proud of you. I love you my dearest princess.” he says softly and it was enough for the girl to finally breakdown, sobbing into her father's shoulders as she kneeled down to reach him. Lucifer held her, holding her body protectively.

“I am grateful that you are my daughter more than anything.” he says, running his hand through her hair. His other hand rubs circles on her back for comfort. “You've grown into such an amazing woman and I am very proud of you. I hope you forgive your father for making you do his work. Don't worry, daddy's here now...” he cooed softly, still holding into the crying girl in his arms. He promised to be better. One step at a time.

General Taglist:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full headcanons of MC being forced to attack M6 please 🙏🏽🙏🏽

The Arcana HCs: When MC is forced to attack M6

~ oh boy, anon friend, we're really not holding back today are we XD Hope you enjoy this sequel! ~

CW for non-gory injury descriptions, trauma disassociation, and intense guilt

-- to set the scene --

You don't know if you'll ever be able to forgive yourself.

In the moment, all you could feel was terror. The mage you were fighting rippled away as a haze of fear washed over your senses, and suddenly your worst nightmare was right next to you and readying itself to tear you limb from limb. You don't know how long you screamed and lashed out for. You don't know how many rules of fair fighting you abandoned to stay alive.

All you know is that, eventually, the terror subsides, and now you're looking at the pained face of your beloved as blood slowly trickles down their temple.

Julian

The first thing you feel is the way his arms are pinning you to him, effectively restraining you with a desperate hug

He's quietly talking to you, watching your eyes clear as you return to your senses, whispering "hey. hey, I'm here" over and over again until you're able to stop struggling and meet his gaze

You're almost relieved to see that you only managed to hit his head once, until he shakily loosens his grip and you can feel where your hands have angrily clawed and pummeled at his back

He's already nudging you to get back home, leaning a little heavily on your shoulder and telling you over and over again that it's not your fault, the threat's gone, nothing's hurt that can't be fixed

Refuses to take care of his own wounds until you've let him tend to yours and until you've started to believe that things will get better

It's hard not to let your heart break when he finally takes off his shirt and lets you get a look at his back. You tore it to shreds

Not to mention the cracked ribs that clearly make breathing hurt

He doesn't let you dwell on it, instead passing his doctor's tools back to you and talking you through the process of patching him up. Any apology is interrupted with "ah ah ah, my dear, doctors don't say sorry when they're helping people. It's not your fault."

Beyond the initial fear of losing you to the madness, he's not shaken up by your capacity to hurt him. If anything, once he's healed up, he starts praising your ferocity whenever he can

Asra

They're a little ways away from you when you regain lucidity, one shaking arm extended to hold up the magic barrier you were just struggling against. They look terrified - and heartbroken

As soon as you stop fighting and your legs begin to give out, he's sprinting the several feet over to catch you. There's a stream of apologies and reassurances leaving his mouth as he reaches you

"It's okay - it's okay - I'm so sorry, it's going to be okay - I'm sorry I didn't stop it sooner. Just hold on, my love, it'll all be okay -"

Doesn't want to let go of you. Mostly because they're injured and exhausted too, but also because it's easier not to let you see how badly they're hurt if you're both hiding in each other's necks

Won't let you look at him until he heals you first

When you do, you have a to keep a strong face, or you know they'll cover it up and take care of it themself. You didn't get through the barrier, but it seems your powerful magic attacks did. Effectively

The arm that was holding up the shield has bruises and cuts all over it. There's angry red lines reaching from his elbow across his chest where you apparently sent lightning dancing over it

They let you heal them because they know it'll help you, but they won't talk about such a painful thing openly. They don't want you to feel like you have to apologize. The nightmares think otherwise

When he does talk about it, it was seeing you so scared of him, like he was a threat to you. Like he'd hurt you. It's his greatest fear

Nadia

You open your eyes to find yourself at the other end of her drawn sword, the blade carefully hovering at an angle where only the flat of it will strike you. Her eyes look wide and scared - vulnerable

You can tell she's been moving defensively this whole time because she doesn't take advantage of your sudden pause. Rather, she watches you cautiously as you sink to the ground

She wants to believe it's over, but she's not putting her sword away until she knows for certain that it's done. Prove you're back to her

Can't bring herself to touch you or to let you touch her until you're both finished talking. You need to tell her what happened to make you act like that. She needs you to know what she did and why

She did everything she could not to hurt you. She promises

Doesn't hold it against you at all. She knew from the moment your eyes went hazy that you weren't acting of your own volition, and she feels truly sorry for the frightening thing you must've endured

But that doesn't change how startling it was to be on the receiving end of your fear and aggression. She needs to know you're okay. She needs to know she's okay. She needs to know it'll stay that way

Has a Palace medic tend to your wounds separately, but does eventually let you use healing magic on her once she's comfortable with your touch again (though that might take a few hours at least)

Insists on holding you close that night and the following evenings. She knows she's safe with you and refuses to feel otherwise

Muriel

The more your vision clears, the more your terror changes to horror. He did nothing to stop you. He did nothing to stop you

The blood trickling down his temple meets with several gashes on his jaw and neck, there's jagged gouges across his chest and shoulders, and bruises already blooming across his stomach

And yet he's giving you the gentlest look, reaching out to you slowly the same way you've seen him calm wounded beasts in the forest. You've still done much more damage than a scared rabbit

Doesn't say much, just catches you by the shoulders when you start to fall and carefully cradles your cheek when you start to cry

You don't realize how much trauma he's fighting until you've made it back to the hut and the fine tremble in his hands hasn't left

And it's because he's so busy fighting his own awful memories that he accidentally shuts you out, not saying a word, not hearing a word, turning away after setting you down so you can't see him numbly dab at his wounds and try to get the blood out of his sight

Doesn't start to break until you start to break. Somewhere in his mind is a conviction that he's not allowed to feel bad about this because he's had worse, and your tears are his permission

Healing really begins late that night as he holds you in his lap by the fire, learning to let his own tears fall while you tend to his injuries and lament the fact that Muriel didn't protect the person most precious to you - himself

Portia

When the haze lifts, you're flat on your back, all of Portia's weight on your middle while she pins your hands to the ground above your head. The worst part is that she's openly sobbing

You can feel throbbing aches and pains all over your body where you know she fought back and you've never been so happy to be injured in your life. Sadly, you still did a fair amount of damage

So relieved to see you stop struggling and recognize her that she collapses into hugging you and telling you it's over and it's okay and she loves you so much and she's so glad you're back

Furious at the mage that pulled this kind of trick on you, to the point that she can't even hear you bring it up without immediately venting all her anger at them and all the things they deserve

This accidentally makes it impossible for her to accept any kind of apology from you, because to her you're a victim. (which, you are, but that doesn't change the injuries your hands gave her)

Quick to try to cheer both of you up, dragging you home to her cottage, pulling out her first aid kit, and handing you what you need to patch her up while she gets started on you. It'll be okay

Starts processing it pretty openly the next day, at which point you're finally able to share more of how you felt through the whole thing and make the apologies you want to make (she forgives you)

There's a short period of time where you're both extra careful about consensual touch, but all in all, she bounces back quickly

Lucio

You can see his golden arm up and guarding his head while he readies his human hand to push you away again. His gaze is scared and worried, and yet vacant enough to know he's acting on instinct

Stays frozen as you fall, still mentally struggling to realize it's over, before finally collapsing next to you and reaching out to pull you into a hug. You're back. You're here. He's so glad you're here

Shaking and terrified that everything's going to fall apart after this. He just saw you more scared and angry than he's ever seen you before - as scared and angry as he's seen others often look at him

He knows deep down you were under a spell that made you see something else, but there's a worry present in his brain that this was actually you awakening to your true feelings about him

It doesn't help that he doesn't remember what all he did to fight back. Years of combat experience and battlefields kicked in, and all his thoughts went on hold while his body went on autopilot

And the last time someone he loved fought to kill him - well - it was his mother. That did not end well

He can't bring himself to care about injuries until he knows you won't leave him, until he knows you're going to work through this with him. Until he knows you can still love each other

Once you're reconciled and bandaged up, he's in his element. The amount of tender attention you're showing him is feeding his soul

Still subconsciously keeps his guard up around you, for a while

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬

Pairing: Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

1.06

Gwayne searches your face until he meets your eyes. You offer him a reassuring look, then glance back up at the ceiling. His panting becomes heavier as he quickens his thrusts. Gwayne wasn’t a bad person; there was just no passion or love between the two of you. Laying together was nothing more than an act of duty.

“Gods,” he groans.

Seconds later, Gwayne drops his body down on top of you. He pecks at your cheek before pulling out and rolling onto his side. You lick at your dry lips, then get to your feet, and immediately start pushing your nightgown down. Gwayne appears to have enjoyed himself a lot more than you did, then again he got to reach his peak, which was disappointing considering you used to enjoy having sex.

“Do you want me to escort you back to your chamber?”

“No, but thank you for the offer.” You pull the thick robe that resembles a coat on and tie it at the front, making yourself more presentable to walk through the castle halls. “Gwayne, are we going to address what your family is saying?”

Sighing, Gwayne gets up from his spot on the bed, his body bare for all to see, and begins pouring himself a goblet of wine. “If you are desperate to have another babe I’m sure the gods will grant you one.”

“I am not desperate to have another child. Pregnancy and childbirth are both horrid experiences; it’s a matter of performing our duty. The weight of having a child weighs more heavily on me than it does on you. The blame always falls upon the woman. It will be me they will whisper about and call a failure.”

“Dear wife,” he says. Shaking his head, Gwayne walks over to you with a small smile pulling on his lips. “I do believe there is a way to make this more simple. The unspoken issue is the fault may lie with me, but you can bear another child, so if needs be, a possible solution is you seek out the company of another.”

“Are you suggesting I take a lover to impregnate me?”

His jaw clenches ever so slightly, but Gwayne nods. “The babe would still have the last name Hightower. I would fiercely claim them as my own.”

“Would you be able to love them if they were from another?”

“Love,” Gwayne inhales sharply, “a foreign concept to some. I’m not suggesting we stop trying, but just explore other ways of getting what we both want.”

“I would be breaking the vows I made at our wedding.” A man could break his vows and nobody batted an eyelid, but seven hells rain down on any woman who did. “I know this is not a match we made for ourselves, but I didn’t think you would be so eager for me to bed another.”

“I also have my father breathing down my neck, continually insisting our family legacy continues. Not to mention all the snide comments from my sister.” Sighing, Gwayne swirls his drink. “I’m just saying if you thought laying with another would improve your chances of having a child sooner, it wouldn’t be an issue with me.”

“It would not?”

“No.”

You didn’t know what else to say; your mind was racing trying to process everything he just said. "Goodnight, husband, I have much to think about.”

—

You are so lost in thought you almost walk by Ser Criston and into your chambers without even acknowledging him; it’s not until he opens the door and speaks that you come back to reality.

“Goodnight princess.”

You spin on your heels and speak quietly. “Can I ask you something? The other night... do you judge me for what I did or said?”

He thinks about it before answering, “No, I don’t.”

“...thank you, Ser Cristion.” You want to say more, but taking in the knight's appearance, you can see exhaustion weighing him down and decide it is best to leave it for another time. “You can retire for the night. Another member of the king's guard can take over. I shall see you in the morrow.”

—

You hear your daughter wail before you see her. Her cheeks flushed red as she cries hysterically while Raya holds her.

“Meera, my sweet,” You tuck the thick book of your family's history under your armpit and hold your arm out, taking your daughter from Raya. “What is the matter?”

The moment she’s in your arms, Meera clings to you. You had gone to the godswood to read while it remained dry outside. The feeling of your warmth and soft voice soothes your daughter, and soon she starts to calm down. You look to Raya and quietly ask, “What has upset her so much?”

“They were talking about houses and their sigils during her lessons, and when they mentioned House Stark, she got upset.”

You sigh. Meera misses her father, and unfortunately there wasn’t much you could do to remedy that pain. “Your cheeks are awfully warm.” You place Meera back on the ground and take her hand. “Come, let’s get you back inside.”

You briefly lock eyes with Ser Criston; there hadn’t been a chance for you to have a private conversation with him yet, as there was always someone else nearby. The godswoods may have been your chance, but there was now a more pressing matter.

“Do you want me to do anything else for her?” Raya asks.

You nod, “Have a cool bath prepared; hopefully that will stop her from being so flush. Thank you.”

As you walk back towards the halls of the red keep, serval lords and ladies have looks of disgust on their faces as Meera continues to sob. At the heart of the congregation of ladies sitting by the archways is Alicent, with an almost mocking smile pulling on her lips. You felt judged, as if your daughter crying somehow made you a bad mother.

“Princess,” Ser Criston’s voice is softer than usual. “Pay no mind to their glances. Most ladies at court children are raised by handmaidens; I doubt many of them would be able to say what brings comfort to their child, let alone enjoy spending them with them.”

“Thank you, Ser.”

—

As you leave your father's chambers, Rhaenyra links her arm with yours and whispers, “I’ve been thinking about your situation.”

“Which one?”

She giggles, “aōha valzȳrys's suggestion hen ao taking another naejot bed.” (Your husband's suggestion of you taking another to bed.)

“Rhaenyra!”

“Shhh,” she pulls on your arm tighter and continues the conversation in High Valyrian. “I know there will be no shortage of men who would be honoured to bed you, but I definitely think I know the one.”

“Who?”

She subtly moves her eyes in the direction of your sworn shield, who was walking not far behind you beside her own. You pray to the mother that neither of them had secretly learnt High Valyrian.

“A man who takes a vow of chastity values honour above all else.”

“He’s swore an oath of loyalty to you, sister. The way he looks at you goes beyond duty.”

“Enough of that. I value—” you pause before saying his name out loud. “Him too much. Besides, if I was desperate, I’d ask Daemon.”

“Gods no...” Rhaenyra rolls her eyes. “Daemon has probably slept with all the whores in the keep.”

“Yet, there are still some who would find themselves drawn to him,” you say teasingly. “I would do no such thing. The temptation to rub it in Otto’s face would be too great for him.”

She nods in agreement. “I am being serious though; your shield would be willing if you asked. Also, father wishes for him to join you in your travels.”

You swallow thickly. Your father had reluctantly granted you leave from the keep to return to Winterfell with Meera for a short time; however, you had no intention of having a full party of knights and handmaidens accompanying you. Flying on Dragonback would be much easier for everyone.

As you reach the far end of the royal quarters, you switch back to English. “Let’s speak no more of this. I’d rather visit my sweet nephews in the nursery before Meera finishes her lessons.”

—

The rain was relentless; each gust of wind would have threatened to unseat you if you weren’t strapped into your saddle so tightly. The wind whips your unbraided hair into a tangled mess that sticks to your face. Despite the heavy downpour, Lady pressed on, knowing that every moment spent in the sky was another moment of freedom for you both.

You’re ready to wait for the passing storm to end, but as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the darkness, Lady plunged down towards the forest floor, sheltering herself under the thick trees.

While landing, she knocks over a few small trees and is boisterous while doing so. The spot was near the cave she had claimed and had begun showing signs of nesting behavior. You couldn’t see any knights, but you could hear the sound of rhythmic galloping getting closer.

Climbing off Lady, you say, “Ao sagon ȳgha kesīr.” (You’re safe here.)

Lowering her head for her customary sniff, she nudges you with her nose, and you embrace her, resting your forehead against her damp peach scales.

“Princess!”

“Don’t come any closer, Ser Criston,” you call back. “Be careful not to startle Lady; she’s very protective.”

In High Valyrian, you speak in a soothing tone to Lady, lovingly rubbing your hands over her scales until she retreats back in her cave. When you mentioned she had made a den for herself outside the dragonpit, your father had ordered knights to guard the cave at all times, so there was some light in the darkness of the forest by the torches hung up against the trees.

“Ser Criston?” You glance around, trying to figure out where he was.

Hearing the snapping of branches, you spin fast and are taken by surprise seeing his is so close to you and stumble backwards. You find yourself in the arms of the knight as he catches you before you hit the ground.

Instead of wearing his armor, Criston was dressed in his own clothes, with a thick black cloak shielding his body from the rain. “Your shift was finished hours ago, Ser, why did you come?”

“I saw the weather was worsening and was worried. I wanted to make sure you returned safely, princess.”

You hold his gaze; there were more than a dozen knights on guard; any of them could have been your escort home. “Don’t speak half-truths.”

Criston leans into you, his breath warm against your ear. “You have not been yourself of late. And in truth, it made me nervous knowing you are out here, in the storm with so much on your mind.”

“Scared I’d fly away and not return?”

He laughs, “The king would most definitely have my head if you did. I was worried you’d get hurt.”

Your heart races as you feel the knight's strong grip on your arms. With a sudden movement, your lips met his. Criston’s lips were warm and firm against yours, sending shivers down your spine. As you pull away, you couldn't help but feel a longing for more. “Forgive me,” you say as you step out of his grip. “That was inappropriate; I should not have done that.”

“There is no forgiveness needed.” Criston’s hand rests on the side of your neck, his thumb tracing your jaw. “What is troubling you, princess?”

“I’ve found myself in a position I thought I’d ever be in. Gwayne wants me to bed another so that we may do our duty to our houses.”

“To bed another?” He repeats this while guiding you to gain shelter underneath a tree. You were thankful the night was so dark that even with the torches, no other knight would be able to have witnessed what you just did.

“Yes, and I just—I understand his trail of thinking, but I cannot expect another to go along with a lie like that.”

“I’m sworn to you, princess. My sword and shield are yours.”

“Ser Criston, I cannot ask you to—”

“Love you in secret?” Criston presses into you until your back hits the tree. Your noses gently brush together, and his lips lightly ghost over your own. “I’m afraid it may be too late to stop that from happening.”

You give in and lean forward, kissing him. Tangling your hands in his damp hair, his fingers caress your ribcage. “This is wrong,” you whisper. “We should stop.”

“Tell me to stop, princess, and I swear we’ll never mention this again.”

“No, Criston, I don’t want you to stop. And that is what’s wrong.”

He kisses you again, but this time it becomes more heated and all doubt disappears. You move his hand that’s resting on your ribs up to cup your breast, silently signaling you want more for this to go further.

Criston moves his leg to open yours further and presses his knee against your core. “Do you want this, princess?”

“Gods, yes.”

Your breath hitches in your throat when Criston repositions himself and grinds against you, his lips pressing into the sweet spot on the side of your neck. He bunches your skirts up, giving him easier access; he spits on his fingers before rubbing circles on your clit. After a few moments, he steps back to lower his trousers enough for his cock to spring free.

Wrapping his arms around you, Criston lifts you high enough that your legs hook around his waist. “You’ve no idea how badly I desire you, princess.”

Desperate to feel him, you pull your skirts and small cloth to the side and line the head of his cock against your cunt. Criston muffles your moans with a kiss when he pushes inside you with ease.

“Fuck,” you whine against his lips.

“Shh,” he starts to thrust slowly. “Nobody can see us, but if they hear us, they will come looking.”

Biting your lower lip, you bury your face into the side of his neck. Doing your best to not make any more noise, as all primal urges take over. You dig your nails into the back of Criston's, keeping him close as he thrusts into you amongst the wind and rain.

[not-so-casualenjoyer]

Simon (trying to be) casual about the mask

By that I don’t mean he’d take it off whenever you asked. Of course not. You have to have very, very special privileges to see his face, and even each of the 141 members practically had to pry it off him once he agreed to let them see.

Simon’s mask is what makes him Ghost. It’s what makes him able to slip into work mode. It’s what holds him together when he needs it and what lets him block out everything else and pretend it’s never happened. The mask allows Simon to assume another identity.

He puts it on at night after his nightmares, when he feels like the world is crumbling down around him. It holds everything together, making sure his scars won’t tear apart at the seams, letting him find reprieve in his second skin.

The mask is an essential, immovable part of who Simon is. Who Ghost is. And he doesn’t take that thing off for just anyone.

Simon is an intimidating, bloodsoaked, unadmittedly sad, broken man. All these things, coupled with lesions on emotions beat into him by his father, make for a not so smooth approach to communication.

By which I mean, almost none at all.

Which isn’t a fault of his own. He likes to shove everything down, and almost nobody he knows is willing to risk his temper enough to dredge it back up again. So he gets to keep it locked away in a tight little bottle. He’s never had to express himself, communicate with another person, explain the reasoning behind his sometimes irrational actions (and he is not willing to admit it may be akin to the fact that he doesn’t quite know why he does them himself sometimes).

But when you came around, it jolted his entire world.

You, little firecracker you, who doesn’t flinch when he glares or snaps and pushes him to explain until he wants to scream his tar-soaked lungs out in newfound frustration.

You’re so different. You don’t fear his wrath. You meet it with a firm hand and a possibly more stubborn attitude. The team has never seen someone who can go head to head with Simon, and they don’t think they’ve ever seen him get so irritated either.

You push him until he snaps, spitting his reasoning and thoughts to you, explaining with a growled “I don’t know, okay?!” when you push him too far. You bend him on topics that make him itch until he breaks, and then you soften. You lower your voice, sweeten your tone, comfort him with words that make his stomach churn with how kind they are, and drag each word of explanation and processing out of him with coaxing gentleness.

You learn more about him than he intends over time.

You learn about the scars that cut through him–his mind, his heart, sometimes his flesh body. Sometimes when you look at him, he thinks you can see them, the slashes and cuts that mangle his body. His gnarled heart, his twisted mind.

That doesn’t scare him the way it would if it were anybody else. It doesn’t scare him because no matter what he shows you, you always come back. You always learn more, and you always show him that syrupy, worried look whenever he bears a new mark to you, physical or not.

So he wonders, in spite of himself, what would you think of his face? His cleft lip, his scarred cheek, his cut brow? What would you think of his eternally crooked nose, his drawn brows?

He hopes the scars on his face won’t stop you from giving him that sweet look, because none of his scars have before.

Simon isn’t quite sure how to integrate his bare face into the equation.

He wishes he didn’t have to go through all the muss and fuss, could just take it off with no overdramatic theatrics. He just wants to rip the bandaid off as quickly as possible.

So, that’s what he does. Saunters into the rec room one day while it’s just you, completely maskless.

He casually walks to the kitchen counter (despite how he thinks he might be having a heart attack from how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage) to make some tea.

You glance over your shoulder when you notice his presence, and–

“...Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you forget your mask?”

He turns the knob on the stove to light a fire under the kettle.

“No,” He grunts.

You blink at him, speechless, for lack of a better word, trying to process this situation and the face in front of you.

It’s almost surreal, seeing it all come together. Those familiar eyes, the glance of jaw and lip, his light brows, furrowed down. Now connected with the rest of his face, a crooked nose and a gnarled cheek, lines in his forehead from scowling so much.

“What?” He mutters from his spot at the counter, seeing how you’ve twisted around to stare at him over the back of the couch.

“Nothing,” You say quickly, turning back to your phone with a grin.

a/n: haha hey guys sorry i fell off the face of the earth! i do that sometimes ANYWAYS gonna try to write some more 😭 i have little thing in the works rn but it takes me at least three days to start writing literally anything beyond a base idea so

[httpsleclerc]

so i'll take the nightshift

sebastian and his ex wife have a chat after the last weeks events

part one here

wc: 1.3k words

cw: absent father? again not intentional

It had been a week since you had admitted to both yourself and your daughter that you missed Sebastian. In that week, he had been at your apartment first thing on Monday morning to pick her up so that he could spend his week with her, since he had already missed her birthday - which was truly no fault of his own - he had vowed he would treat her like the princess you both knew she was for the whole week he was able to spend with her. You knew that Sebastian was a great father, in your daughter's eyes? The best - even if her mommy and daddy didn't live together, she knew that they both loved her with everything that they had. Your week without her had been peaceful enough, managing to get all the housework that needed done did before her arrival - But the silence that came with the lack of her had you deep in your thoughts, as you remembered your admittance of missing your ex-husband: You were hoping that she wouldn't relay what you had said to Sebastian.

You were sat on the couch, Sebastians throw blanket tucked around you - You couldn't bare to get rid of it after you had separated, everything else was fair game, but part of you didn't want Sebastian out of your life entirely, you still loved him and missed him dearly. Hearing the door knock, you paused the movie playing on the TV, your daughter had already walked in on you watching a horror movie before, and you would rather not want to go through that again. Keeping Sebastians blanket wrapped around you, you heaved yourself up off of the couch and shuffled to the front door, opening it and seeing your daughter asleep in her father's arms.

"Oh, hey," You greeted him, your heart stopping as you realised that this was really the first time you had come face to face with your ex since you had admitted missing him, the Monday past where he had picked her up, you had been too busy getting her ready to really have a minute to process your feelings.

"Hi, I don't know if she's pretending to be asleep or not but she's not waking up," He smiled at her and then you, and you returned the smile, remembering the days where she would be pretending to be asleep to get you or Sebastian to carry her into the house. "Can I come in?" Sebastian asked you, you nodded in response, stepping aside to let him come into your apartment.

"How was she?" You asked him, brushing her blonde curls out of her face as she slept peacefully in her father's arms. Sebastian smiled, he held so much love for the daughter that you and him had created and loved nothing more than getting to spend time with her - well, he loved one thing maybe a bit more.

"She was great, I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when she wakes up, she's really talkative now, huh?" You chuckled at Sebastians words and nodded, you knew all too well how chatty your daughter could be, especially when she was excited or had something fun to tell you.  You sighed as you realised that you couldn't deal with the conflict that you felt within you anymore, you needed to talk to Sebastian about how you were feeling, about how your daughter was feeling.

"Seb, can we talk?" You asked him, placing a hand on your daughter's small back and then looking up at Sebastian, who nodded in response to your question. "You can put her to bed if you want, her room is down the hall and to the left." He smiled and nodded, internally fighting the urge to place a small kiss on your lips like he would always do. You paced your living room as you thought of how to vocalise your feelings without bursting into tears.

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" Sebastian asked you, as he settled down on your couch and watched as you sat down beside him, playing with the bracelet that your daughter had made you. You sighed, knowing that if you didn't do this now, then you never would. 

"(Name) missed you last week, she was devastated when you didn't make it to her party," You started telling him, your heart breaking as you remembered the heart break of your daughter as she told you of her upset at the absence of her father at her party. "And I had to tell her the same thing that I used to tell myself, that it was because this was your job and that you couldn't help it and then she said that she missed you and then I said-"

"That you miss me too," Sebastian cut you off, frowning as he looked at you. "She told me, I was putting her to bed and she told me that you were upset because you missed me." Your heart stopped as you sighed, rubbing your face.

"The worst part is that I mean it, Sebastian," You told him. "I miss you, but I don't miss you being gone all of the time, not hearing your voice for days because of the time differences, but now I have to make the same excuses I made for myself for you being gone to our daughter, Sebastian." Your voice was wavering and you knew that at any point, you would burst into tears and his next words would determine the possibility of that. He reached forward to hold your hand as he always did when he could tell that you were getting worked up, even separated, he still knew you so well.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to be retiring at the end of this season," He dropped the biggest bomb you had possibly ever heard. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him, you didn't understand - Sebastian loved his career, so why is he giving it up.

"What? Sebastian, you love racing," You voiced. Sebastian chuckled as he shook his head, still holding your hand in his.

"I do, but I love you and (Name) more, and I don't want to miss out on any more of our girl growing up," He told you, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you gained some sort of inkling where this was going - were you ready for this again? Was he being genuine? Of course he was. Again, even separated, you knew your ex well. "And I'm not expecting you to take me back straight away, I know me being gone so often really hurt you in ways that I could never imagine, but I would really like for us to try again. I still love you, Y/N. I think I always will love you." 

You didn't even think over his offer of trying again before you threw yourself into his arms, craving the feelings of his touch after being starved of it for so long. You were getting your Sebastian back. 

"I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Seb," You cried, looking into his eyes which mirrored your daughters perfectly. He laughed as he looked into yours, finding nothing but the woman he had loved since their first meeting, the woman who was the mother of his beautiful daughter, the woman he loved.

"Me neither, my love."

Maybe this time, things wouldn't be the same, but better. 

note: idk whether I love or hate this pls give me some feedback to work with