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[mv1simp]

Into It ♥️ Part 2 of 3

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

and she don’t really like it (but she needs me, yeah)

the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom/sub, size kink, Charles used as a plot device to make Max jealous soz, orgasm denial, classic kinky shit, 4k WC

PART ONE HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️

That’s how you found yourself on a girls’ night out in Monaco’s new hottest club, downing three shots in a row. Woah, woah girl!! your best girlfriend exclaimed, what’s the occasion? You huffed and avoided eye contact, prompting her to lean in conspiratorially, trouble in paradise with your boy Maxie? This time you glare at her in response and she grins in satisfaction, knowing she's caught you.

A few more shots later and you were drunkenly rambling about your tales of sexual frustration to her, about all the attempts at seducing your boyfriend, all the unfulfilled fantasies. She laughs, so you’re saying you’re upset your boyfriend acts too sweet to you to be rough with you in the bedroom? You nodded glumly, squishing your face against the bar countertop. I’m the worst girlfriend ever. I don’t deserve an angel like max!

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at your melodrama. Girl, no. We all need to get dicked down hard. You need to be straight up with him. Besides - she smirked - he’s the most chaotic driver on the grid. I’m sure he can provide everything you want and much, much more.

Squinting, you tried to make sense of her words through your drunken thoughts. Logically you knew she was right - you should just tell Max honestly what you desired so badly - but even imagining how he might react when he obviously considered you to be his sweet, innocent girlfriend made you feel too embarrassed, even now. More drinks, you declared promptly. Your girlfriend shrugged, handing you another shot. Cheers to that!

An hour later you found yourself on the dance floor, having the time of your life. Twisting and grinding the night away, initially with your friends but at some point you stumble across Charles and Lando, who had joined your group at the club. Giggling, you threw your arms right around Cha, who you had known from living in Monaco the last few years. Chaaa!!! It’s so good to see you!! You’ve had such a fantastic year in Ferrari, I’m so proud of you-

Charles chuckled good naturedly at your drunk ramblings, wrapping an arm around you to steady you. He made eye contact with Lando, gesturing to his phone, to which the other boy mouthed already on it - having texted Max to come pick up his normally very responsible, well behaved girlfriend who had hilariously gotten far too wasted. Charles guides you away to get you a drink - water, sorry mon cherrie - he sweetly apologises as he takes the beer can you had grabbed instead and replaced it with a clear bottle. You pouted, struggling to stand up straight, and leaned right into him, arms around his shoulders, letting him feel all of you. And he definitely could, given your choice of outfit tonight - a silky long sleeved minidress hugging your body perfectly, with a low cut sweetheart neckline giving the taller man a perfect view of your cleavage. Charles’ eyes widened in surprise - in all his years of knowing you, you had never acted like this before. He reached for your waist again to steady you as you start to lean to one side again.

Unfortunately, this was exactly the picture Max found you two in.

Before Charles could even put a finger on you, a strong arm wraps around your waist from behind, yanking you backwards against a firm chest. You stumbled, confused, and tipped your head up only to come face to face with your boyfriend. Except even in your drunk daze, you could tell your boyfriend looked absolutely furious. You vaguely hear him snarl something aggressively towards Cha - Keep your fucking greedy hands off her - To which the monegasque driver innocently raised his hands in defence, attempting to explain, but Max doesn’t give him a chance as he leans down and tosses you over his shoulder, making you yell out in surprise. Maxie, you gasped as he quickly navigated you out of the club towards his Aston Martin Valkyrie, his fast pace making you dizzy - Maxie, slow down, I didn’t say bye to Cha-

A hard smack on your ass cuts you off, making you squeal and eyes boggle at the unexpected rough treatment. Max had never, ever used his force on you like that. Oh, we’re way past the point of that, Princess. I’m taking you straight home, Max growls as he drops you into the passenger seat, jaw clenched as he clicked your seatbelt in. He tossed a bottle of water in your lap as he started the car and speeds off. You gulp it down greedily, desperately trying to sober up a bit and process where on earth this behaviour from your usually sweet boyfriend had come from.

By the time he parked in his garage, you had started to think a bit clearer and felt nervousness build up, realising you’ve started your first real fight as a couple. Maxie- You try again as you entered the elevator up his penthouse together, Maxie, I’m sorry, I got too drunk- But your boyfriend didn’t even meet your gaze, still staring ahead furiously as you stumbled after him through the front door. You called out again as he stalked off, reaching a hand out to grab his t-shirt and pleading for him to tell you why he was so mad, you had said you were sorry, you just had a bit too much to drink - and he whirled around, letting the full impact of his anger implode onto you.

Why am I so angry? Are you seriously fucking asking me that right now? Max spat, stalking towards you and making you back up against the kitchen wall, doe eyed. What do you think? What would you do if your girlfriend leaves in the middle of the night and you find her fucking dry humping your mate in the middle of a club for all of Monaco to see? Huh? Your eyes had gotten wider with each sentence Max had yelled at you, inching back further and further until you were trapped with the hard kitchen wall to your back, Max’s arms caging you against it as he glared down at you. Maxie, you say guiltily, taking a deep breath to focus on de-escalating the fight instead of the freakish butterflies you felt in your belly seeing his harsh intensity directly focused on you for once. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done it and it genuinely didn’t mean, I only want you-

The tall blonde scoffs, rolling his eyes and making it clear he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. Oh, don’t give me that bullshit now, Schat he sneered, his usual favourite nickname for you now said with a bitterly sarcastic tone, making you half excited at the cruel change in his attitude and half panicked because you had never expected he would get this angry at you. You’ve been acting weird for the past month, half the time I swear you’re trying on purpose to delete my sim racing data, and then leaving your laundry all over the apartment when you get mad at me for not putting a single pair of socks away, and now tonight with Charles? Why did you have to act so pathetic and put yourself all over him?

You take a sharp breath in as Max’s words hit you right in the heart. He’s still glaring down at you, arms caging you in and making it clear he demanded an answer from you. His words had shocked you - all your efforts, all the attempts at trying to turn him on had apparently gone completely unnoticed? And instead he just thought of you as pathetic? You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, your deepest insecurities now coming out given your already oversensitive emotional state after getting so drunk tonight.

Why? WHY? you scream up at Max, unable to control the hot tears that fill your eyes in response to his words. Max flinches reflexively, not expecting you to become so upset, and you shove him away with your full strength. You barely manage to push him back a couple centimetres as he concedes, but that was all you needed to slip under his arms and away from his intense gaze, not wanting him to see the fresh tears that had started dripping down your cheeks now, the tequila in your system amplifying your emotions. Wiping them off, you spin back around and resume your yelling - Well maybe because I wanted to actually make you mad for once, Max! Maybe because I actually wanted you to treat me with the passion and intensity you treat everything else around you, and yes, maybe it was a stupid way to get your attention tonight, but I thought making you jealous would finally make you lose control and just fuck me hard for once!

Max’s startled look is almost priceless, his baby blue eyes going wide like a deer in headlights as the argument takes a complete 180 from where it had been earlier. But you don’t stop there -

So I’m sorry I made myself look like the pathetic girlfriend of the golden boy, Max Verstappen. I just didn’t know what to do! I tried to get dressed up for you in my nicest lingerie, or make you mad at me so that you had an excuse to punish me however you wanted. But apparently it just wasn’t enough because you never noticed and still treat me like I’m some little precious doll that might break, like I can’t handle seeing you when you’re mad or upset or aggressive. So I guess I am pathetic, so desperate to try so hard to seduce you because I just wanted you to be yourself when you obviously just don’t think I’m hot enough to make you desire me in that way -

Woah, woah woah - okay, this deprecating self talk had gone on way too long for his liking, Max thought, as he closed his mouth that had dropped open in surprise as you finally released the tension and secrets he could tell you had been building up. Schatje, he murmured, approaching you gently, all his earlier anger crumbling away as he wipes your tears.

His strong hands grasped your waist and easily lifted you onto the marble top counter behind you, the twinkling Monaco city lights streaming in through the glass panels behind you. You sniffle, still refusing to meet his eyes, so embarrassed that all your feelings had rapidly come out of you like that. Max lovingly tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. For such a smart and accomplished woman, you can be so incredibly stupid sometimes He starts, quickly continuing when he sees the indignation on your face -

So stupid because I can’t believe you think there is any version of me that doesn’t think you’re the most fucking beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, the only woman who has me wrapped around her pretty little finger. You know I would give you the world, schat, all you have to do is ask me for what you want.

I know, you say, sighing miserably, I know you’ll give me anything I want, you treat me so well, Maxie, and I’ve been the one who’s been having all these dirty thoughts every time I see you shirtless or driving on the track.

Max chuckles, his eyes shining brightly and cheeks flushed from your confession about how crazy he makes you feel. You’ve been holding back on me, liefje he teases, gently rubbing his thumbs across your dusty pink cheeks. Tell me, what naughty ideas has my girl been hiding from me? What’s driving you so wild about seeing me drive?

Your cheeks darken as you struggle to come up with a half coherent response despite your weeks of fantasising. I - um, well, sometimes - sometimes, when a race is going bad and you’re getting really angry on the radio and racing so aggressively against the others, it just really, uh, turns me on? you mumble, eyes purposely looking at his toned chest to avoid eye contact. And it makes me think about what it would feel like to have all that power up against me instead, to help you relax by releasing all your energy out on me instead of holding it in…as you trail off you hesitantly look back up, certain that you had freaked your boyfriend out by your inner thoughts. Instead, you find Max’s ice blue eyes locked intently onto yours, swirling with that stormy darkness you had caught glimpses of before.

Schatje, Max says, his voice low as he steps closer into your space, your soft thighs parting to accomodate his large frame. Are you telling me you’ve been wondering if I can fuck you the way that I like to drive? Aggressive and completely in control? You feel your cheeks flush again at his direct question, and you nod in response to his question, squeaking out a nervous yes.

Max’s eyes darken, lips quirking into a smug smirk you had seen many times on post race interviews and podiums but rarely within your home. He jerks you forward with one arm, pressing your soft tits up against his own firm chest, your legs instinctively tightening around his hips as he stands directly in front of you. So, Schat, you like it when I’m getting angry at you, huh? It all makes so much sense now. The way that you’re always biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together everytime I’m arguing in the garage. You look so innocent, but you’re actually just a dirty little girl, huh? acting like the sweetest WAG on the grid - but you’re just a desperate cocktease, aren’t you?

You let out a breathless gasp at the new sense of superiority in Max’s words, a condescending smirk still on his lips. Your ego rises up hotly and you shake your head in defence, Nuh uh, Maxie, that’s not, I’m not-

He cuts you off by suddenly dropping his hands from your waist and instead curling them around your chubby soft thighs, forming a tight grip easily with his large fingers. Doesn’t matter what you say, baby. The proof is right here. He flips your minidress up, exposing the cute white lacey thong underneath, his ring finger easily hooking around thin material and pulling it to one side. There’s no hiding the sheer wetness coating your cute pink pussy, so much so that there’s strands of it connecting to the thong as Max pulled it back. Bingo, he chuckles darkly. You’re squealing at the gesture as your intimate parts go on full display for him, trying desperately to close your legs with your full strength but Max’s bruising grip on your thighs is unrelenting for once. He laughs at the sight, angling his long fingers forward to teasingly flick against the entrance to your core. Your needy little pussy is already dripping for me, huh schat? It got so wet seeing me get all angry and jealous, didn’t it? Did you get even wetter when I yelled at Charles for touching you? Or maybe it was when I had to smack that fat ass of yours to shut your whining up?

Your eyes go wide as you look up at him in shock, hearing filthy words you never thought you would hear from your sweet Maxie. Your head is starting to spin from his deep voice as he continues his teasing with a cocky look. Oh, liefje. I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight you won’t even be able to remember your own name. You’re going to tell me every single dirty fantasy you’ve had, and you’re not going to stop until I’m completely satisfied with you.

Before you can even reply, Max is lifting you up off the counter and into his arms, navigating you both easily to the large plush sofa facing his penthouse balcony and sitting down comfortably. He pulls you on top of him, bringing your still clothed core to rest directly on top of his muscled thighs. You find yourself face to face with his chest even in this position, having to tilt your head up to look at the much taller Dutchman. He grins smugly, the very picture of a Chesire cat as he looks back at you, large palm resting securely on your plump ass.

So, mein liefje? You going to tell me what you’ve been plotting up? Beg me to fill you up and treat you like the little slut you’ve secretly always been? he demands. You bristle at his arrogant tone, not replying to him after you had already made so many embarrassing confessions. But you can’t deny the wetness that keeps dripping from your core, making a mess all over his pants. Your boyfriend notices your stubborn efforts to keep yourself composed and smirks. That’s how you want to play it, love? He croons at you. That’s ok. I can play this game with you. All. Night. Long. It’s my turn to tease you after all the fun you’ve had prancing around in your tiny slutty outfits, rubbing your ass up on me in the middle of the night and driving me crazy having to hold myself back since you couldn’t be a good girl and just beg for it.

And with that he tenses his thighs up into you, bouncing his leg, making you moan suddenly from the blissful stimulation. He speeds up his pace and you find yourself grinding down onto him, eyes fluttering shut as the feeling your pleasure start to build up -

And come crashing down when Max abruptly stills, startling you into grabbing onto his biceps to steady yourself as you almost topple over. Your - loving, adorable, currently irritiating - boyfriend flashes a cheeky smile at you. Max, you whine, but he continues to look at you expectantly and you huff, caving in and gathering the confidence you had left over from your earlier shots.

Your eyes trail down to his chest, one very common thought of yours immediately springing to mind. I guess I really like how you’re so much bigger than me, you murmur, blush starting to return to your cheeks. You’re so big and sooo strong, always lifting the heaviest things easily and I think a lot about how good it would feel to have your big hands on me, holding me down, moving me in anyway that you wanted for your own pleasure. Your hand moves slowly down his front as you speak, and Max rewards your honesty by smoothly removing his shirt, his muscular chest now on display for you. You continue your exploration and trace across his wide shoulders, feeling your heart speed up at the stark difference in your sizes. And, I think about how sexy you sound when you get angry, cause your Dutch accent slips through and makes it even hotter, and I wondered how you would sound if you gave me orders and told me exactly how you wanted me to please you.

Max’s breathing is getting deeper, revealing that your boyfriend is not as unaffected by your words as he is acting. You bite your thick lips as Max’s hands find their way to your ass again, now simultaneously pushing you down onto his leg while pushing his thigh up at the same time. Yeah, schatje? Like this? You want me to show you just how much stronger I am than you, just how hard I’ve had to hold back in case I hurt you?

His fingers unzip the back of your satin dress, allowing it to easily slide off your shoulders, exposing your perfect tits for him while his other hand navigates between your thigh, easily ripping your thong off on one side and pulling it up your smooth leg to let it dangle on your ankle. His hands set the pace as he easily bounces you up and down on his large thighs, making you moan sweetly in pleasure, then squeal as his mouth latches onto your pretty brown nipple that he had been hungrily eyeing. He licks and kisses aggressively at your boobs, leaving a smattering of hickeys as he went and you can’t control how loud your moans get anymore. Ohhh, Maxie, that feels so good~

He bites down on a nipple, then leaves a gentle lick on the bruise he left, and you feel a lightning bolt shoot straight to your pussy at the feeling 💕 He smirks in satisfaction, noticing the blissful expression on your face. Fuck, you like it rough, don’t you baby? Love when I use your little body however I want? You whine in agreement, all earlier inhibitions completely out the window as you’re lost in the pleasure Max makes you feel. That’s all he needs to escalate this again. His hands grab onto your satin dress, this time easily ripping it into two and tossing it onto the floor. You squeal, eyes wide at his casual display of strength as his palms find their way to your exposed jiggling ass, laying a powerful smack on them as you continue to hump his thigh. Oh! Ohhh, Maxie, mhhmm, feels so good!

Max chuckles at your endearing desperation, delivering slap after slap to your quickly reddening asscheeks as you bounce on him. He delivers another slap, this time leaving his hand there to possessives squeeze the flesh while his other hand wraps around your throat to pulls your lips forward onto his. You moan into the sloppy kiss, so unbelievably turned on at this domineering side of Max. His fingers glide across your ass, teasing your dripping heat from behind and you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. You greedily bury your hands in his soft hair as his tongue swipes across yours, when Max suddenly stands up, pushing you off him and onto your knees on the fluffy carpet. You blink up at him, dazed at the change in position, only to find a wicked smirk on his face as he steps out of his pants, letting his thick and very hard erection swing out, his tip landing just in front of your plush lips.

You feel your face flush, because truly you had not gone down on your boyfriend very much at all. He would often be the one to worship you, lounging for an easy three quarters of an hour in between your legs, his tongue lapping at your wet heat. Your boyfriends’ thoughts mirrored yours exactly, and he leaned down, his hand cupping your chin and forcing a thumb into your mouth. You wanted me to use you, isn’t that right? To be a little fucktoy for me, and let all of my stress out at? Go on, schatje, you know what to do.

You immediately began suckling at his thumb, eyes wide, mascara smudged sexily, and looking up at him sooo obediently that he feels himself get even harder. Fuck yeah, that’s a good girl. He swiped his thumb across your tongue before hooking it around one corner of your lips, stretching it uncomfortably wide to the side. Open that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart. It’s time to teach you how to put it to good use.

You could tell Max was just getting started from the pleased smirk on his face as he watched you get more and more desperate to have him. Fuck, you were in for a long night.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Part 3 is out! Tysm to all of you for the unexpected response!! So glad so many of you liked it, glad I can feed all you thirsty souls hehe 🤭 Comment to let me know what you think cause it’s been a while since I’ve done this! Lmk if you have any ideas/prompts for our manz u want me to write 🫶

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Sleight of Hand - Chapter 3: The Prestige

(tumblr will nuke each and every single page of this, so you besties only get a cropped cover. go to Ao3 or Patreon to see the full versions)

Only the most premium of premium porn can do @moonyinpisces’ writing justice, which is why this chapter took so damn long, but now it’s finally here!

All the comic pages are on Ao3 and the full uncensored version on my Patreon!

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispers brokenly. The way he says it… it sounds like Song of Songs. It sounds like Twelfth Night. It sounds– holy. 

The polaroid is face-up beside Crowley’s head, just inches away. Aziraphale leans down and kisses him, uses the distraction to carelessly throw it out to the center of the room before the guilt stalls him altogether. It’s not about hiding it from Crowley, not now. No, it’s that Aziraphale can’t bear to look at their faces when Crowley’s watching him openly, trustingly, knowing that he doesn’t deserve the automatic faith that he’s been given. The devotion to deception, to lies. Aziraphale kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him until it’s the only thing he can think about.

Soon, the sounds leaving Crowley’s lips become formless, shapeless. He thrusts up erratically, increasingly quick and shallow. “Oh, angel, I’m–”

“Say it,” hisses Aziraphale into his open mouth. 

“Ah–” Crowley writhes in place. Tries, “Aziraphale–”

“No,” Aziraphale replies, bearing down harder and fluttering his eyes closed, brows tight. “The other thing. Say–”

“I– oh,” Crowley fumbles his hands up, pressing at the curve of his cheek, the nape of his neck. The words jumble out in inconsistent sizes and shapes, like he’d never voiced them aloud before. Didn’t know if demons could manage it before tonight, if beings materialized from hell’s machinery could communicate feelings so pure, so good to this magnitude. If Crowley can manage it without discorporating entirely. 

He can. He says them over and over until they constitute their own language. A babbling brook, an unending stream. Aziraphale feels like he’s overflowing with too many emotions to ever quite name. Despite everything, though, he says them right back. 

With a last forceful thrust of his hips, hands shaking on Aziraphale’s body and head thrown back in a silent sob, Crowley comes.

---

Keep reading on Ao3

Thanks for coming along for the ride and thank you moony for the amazing collab! It was super fun to adapt your writing into a comic!!

[fluentmoviequoter]

What I Didn't Know I Had

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader

Summary: You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, fluffy comfort and soft Tim at the end

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“I’ll catch up,” you tell Tim.

He nods once and tunes out Lucy as she walks beside him. The bullpen is crowded because of a busy day in Los Angeles, but you have something more important on your mind.

“Angela, can we talk?” you ask as you approach her desk.

“Of course,” she answers. “Is everything okay? Baby okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” You lay your hand over your not yet existent bump and smile. “I’m ready to tell Tim, but I want to surprise him with the pregnancy announcement. He’s not… conventional, right? So, I just wanted to ask if you had any ideas for how I can tell him, how I can make it special?”

“Not conventional is certainly a good description of Tim Bradford,” Angela agrees playfully. “Honestly, you know better than I do what he’d consider to be special. I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”

You nod and look over your shoulder toward Tim. He deserves a memorable announcement; it’s his first child and he’s going to be an amazing father, so you want to make sure he knows that.

“Blue and pink target practice,” Angela suggests. “Nothing like a gun range jump scare.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wade yells your name, and you thank Angela before you return to the crowd of police officers. He says your name again before he adds, “Bradford, Nolan, and Chen, we’ve got a domestic call off Wilshire. Take care of that and get back here. ACH!”

“Anything can happen,” Lucy murmurs. “But it’s never fun.”

“ACHBINF,” Nolan agrees.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks as he falls into step beside you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Love this time of year when we have to send two cops to a call and two cops to protect the others,” you reply.

“Hey, what’s it like being married?” Lucy asks as you enter the garage.

“Depends on the marriage,” Nolan answers. “Why? Are you getting married?”

“Not today,” Lucy answers. “Just curious.”

“Nolan’s right,” Tim agrees. “It depends on the marriage.”

“I love being married,” you tell her. “But it’s nothing to rush into.”

“I just want to meet someone,” Lucy groans. “And you guys are no help.”

“Yeah, I married my partner,” you say, winking at Tim.

“And Nolan’s divorced,” Tim points out.

“Okay!” you announce. “Before this gets worse and turns into a competition of who has or had the better marriage – because it’s me and Tim – we need to go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy agrees. “ACHBINF.”

Tim grunts as he slams the car door, and you smile. As long as that isn’t his response to your pregnancy announcement, you’re amused by his grumpiness.

“There’s nobody here,” Tim says as he looks through a dirty window.

“This is the address. They said they were watching the argument from across the street,” you explain. “So, it’s either a setup or a prank.”

“Bradford!” Nolan calls as he moves out of the yard. “There’s a black SUV moving slowly toward us.”

“Tell dispatch, and get through to Grey,” Tim demands. “Stay down.”

You move with Tim, staying low as you move toward the shop. The black SUV is several houses away, but it only rolls a foot or so before it stops for thirty seconds, then moves again.

“Option 3, someone’s trying to steal a stick shift and can’t drive it,” you joke.

“It’s never that easy,” Tim replies.

“ACHBINF?” you ask.

“Don’t,” Tim murmurs as he watches the car. “We need to make contact before they get close enough to do something.”

“I can go through yards and come up behind them.”

“No, we don’t know what the back looks like. Nolan, where are you and Chen?”

“Behind the shop,” Nolan answers. “On the other side of the street from you.”

“Stay in position,” Tim radios.

A shot fires somewhere nearby, but it echoes so you can’t tell where it originated from.

“The car’s a distraction,” you and Tim say together.

“Backup is two minutes out,” Lucy calls over the radio. “We don’t have time!”

“I’m shooting at the SUV,” Tim tells you. “Cover me.”

You trade places with Tim and press your back to the shop as you cover him. Before you can alert Tim of movement beside the house you were called to, someone fires again. You feel the sting of the bullet against your vest but rise to your knees and return fire. Tim notices your movement and lowers beside you. When the shooter drops his gun and tips back, Tim rushes to him as Lucy and Nolan run to stop the black SUV. You lean back against the shop and run your hand over your uniform. It’s tinted red with blood when you pull it back, and you gently press your fingers against your side. The bullet missed your vest by less than an inch, and your first thought is that the bullet may have gone in sideways.

“No, no, no,” you whisper as you press your hands to your lower stomach.

With the pressure, your bleeding increases with nothing to stop it. Tim rounds the corner of the house with the shooter in handcuffs but pushes him to the ground when he sees you. You’re losing blood quickly, and Tim sees your hands in the wrong place, which immediately concerns him. If you didn’t tell him you were shot and are causing it to bleed more, you must be in shock or hemorrhaging.

“Nolan, get over here!” Tim radios.

He kneels beside you and presses his hands to your side as you try to force a hand under your vest.

“Get me an ambulance!” Tim demands. “Officer down!”

“Tim, I’m pregnant,” you blurt out. “You have to make sure the baby is okay.”

Tim shakes his head and tells you to stay calm. Nolan loads the shooter into the back of his shop and tells Tim the ambulance is approaching.

“Promise you’ll make sure the baby’s okay,” you repeat.

She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Tim thinks. That thought only increases his worry because you’re losing blood and not making any sense.

“What happened?” the paramedic asks as he approaches your side.

“GSW to her side,” Tim replies.

Your eyes flutter closed as they wrap your side, and you don’t mention ‘the baby’ again. Tim asks the paramedic which hospital you are going to and follows your ambulance in his shop. As he drives, he wonders where the “I’m pregnant” announcement came from. It’s something he wants but hearing it because you were losing blood causes his hands to shake. He reminds himself to focus and control his emotions as he parks and runs into the emergency room entrance.

“Office Bradford?” a doctor asks.

“Yes, sir,” Tim responds as he stands. “How is she?”

“She’s perfectly fine. The bullet was through and through with very little tissue damage, so we cleaned and stitched the wound, and she’ll be free to go after some observation. And the baby is perfectly safe as well, Officer.”

“Baby?” Tim repeats. “She’s pregnant?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Yes, sir, she’s about seven weeks pregnant. You can go in if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

The short walk to your room feels like a marathon, and Tim’s mind races with each step. You should have told Tim; you have a dangerous job, and he needs to know. Tim takes a deep breath before he opens the door and steps into your room.

“You really meant that,” he says.

You look up and tug your bottom lip between your teeth before you release it to speak. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you, and I was going to do it later today, but… you know.”

“You have to tell me this stuff,” Tim says gently. “I didn’t know. And I- if something had happened, I wouldn’t have known. I’m supposed to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Surprise?”

Tim rolls his eyes as he takes your hand. He lays your joined hands over your stomach, avoiding your stitches.

“I was terrified,” you whisper. “There wasn’t a way to tell where it went, and if I’d lost-“

Tim shushes you gently and sits on the edge of your bed. He moves a hand to your jaw and brushes his thumb over your cheek.

“I get it. The doctor told me the baby was fine, and it suddenly crashed down on me. That fear that I could’ve lost something I didn’t know I had hit me, even after I knew you were both okay.”

You nod and turn your chin. Tim kisses you softly, and you whisper another apology against his lips.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“A hug, mostly,” you say lightly.

“I was hoping you’d say you were ready to get out of here.”

“Oh, we’re both very ready to get out of here,” you agree.

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch after you arrive home, and you twirl your wedding ring around your finger. He returns a moment later, and when you pull your knees up to give him room to sit beside you, he huffs. Carefully, he lifts your ankles and lays your legs back in your original, comfortable position. Tim lays with you rather than sitting beside you, and you happily turn into his arm. He drags his fingertips along your spine, over your shoulders, and back down. His other hand lays against your side, and he drops his hand to where your baby is growing.

“You’re getting soft,” you murmur.

“Just for you two. And we both need this,” he replies.

“I have an appointment next week, and I want you to be there.”

“I’ll be right here,” he promises. “Can’t trust you to tell me anything important,” he jokes.

You try to push him away, but Tim grabs your wrists and carefully pulls you with him as he rolls. He barely manages to catch both himself and you as he nearly falls off the couch.

“Surprise?” he asks, repeating your earlier comment.

He kisses you before you can say anything else, and when his hands wander to your stomach, you know that you were right about what a great father he will be.

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[shiftingparadise]

*gets on knees before repeatedly blowing*

May we PLEASEEEEE get another soft spot part where Feitan and reader have a fluffy and smutty day? I NEED MOREE THE SERIES IS SO GOOODDDD 😭

I hope you like this 🥺 I wanted to show another side of Feitan. Anyway, thank you for your request and your kind words 🤍🤍🤍 You guys don't realise how much this means to me <3

Word count: 1468

Warnings: smut!!!

His mind was made up. He was going to punish you for what you did. You were his and his alone.

Feitan shook his head at the thought. You weren’t his. Not his alone anyway, but he had agreed to share you a long time ago. It was better to have a part of you than nothing at all. “Tsk”, he narrowed his eyes. Feitan felt betrayed more than anything – a feeling you seemed to give him more often than not.

Yes. That feeling you gave him was a sweet justification for what would come. He talked with Chrollo about your punishment and he gave his full permission. A part of him felt excited. After all, he never thought he’d got to treat you so rough again; that he got to punish you like before. With a determined heart, he opened the door to your room.

“Fei!”, you happily jumped from your desk, “Look, I just finished reading this”.

Feitan froze as he noticed your enthusiasm; your glittering eyes that seemed to light up the darkest of nights.

“You see? It’s a classic”, you proudly held it in front of you, “At first it was kind of hard to understand what was happening but now-“.

 Feitan could only watch as you rambled on. It seemed you were unaware of his mood and feelings toward you but still… A part of him enjoyed seeing you like this, despite his anger toward you.

“What’s wrong?”, your hands dropped to your side, “You seem tense. Is something wrong? Can I do something?”.

Why? Why did you have to make everything so hard for him? He wanted to punish you. You deserved to be punished. So why? Why did he feel like this? So soft, so…

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you”, you looked to the ground, “We can talk about something else”. “No”, he hastily intervened, “Tell me more”.

He didn’t want you to stop; to lose that spark in your eyes. He loved seeing you like this.

“Really?”, your eyes lit up again.  “Hm”, he coldly nodded. “Come, sit down!”, you happily jumped on your bed, “I’ll tell you everything”.

Feitan shuddered as your soft touch met his cold skin. He never got used it.

“Besides, where’s Chrollo? He recommended me this”. “Out”, Feitan’s heart shattered a bit. He was supposed to hurt you and here he was, listening to you rambling about a book he couldn’t care less about. “Oh, okay”, you smiled as you gestured for him to lay down on your thighs.

Feitan hesitated for a bit, but he quickly realized he’d never say no to such a luxury.

“Okay so, if you didn’t know this book is called “Metamorphosis”. Franz Kafka wrote this”, you shifted a bit before stroking through his dark hair. “It’s about a cockroach, but it isn’t about a cockroach. Get it?”. Feitan only hummed in response.

Despite is stiff position; he felt more comfortable than ever. It never took him long to doze off like this.

“One day, this business clerk wakes up as a cockroach and his entire family-“.

Those were the last words he heard before he fell asleep. It didn’t take him longer than a minute – as usual.

When he woke up, he found his arms wrapped around your body. You must’ve fallen asleep not too long after him.

Feitan stared at your face. Something he cursed himself for. Were you an angel? Sent by the Lord himself? Or a demon that had him wrapped around your finger? It didn’t matter to him. You had his heart, his soul, his mind… Every part of him belonged to you.

He softly positioned himself on top of you; his hands resting beside your head. “Y/N?”, his voice still rough as he gently moved a strand of your hair. “Hm?”, a frown on your face as you woke up. “Please”, his gaze fixed on your eyes. “Fei?”, you softly grunted as your tired eyes looked at him. “Can I- Can we”, he never felt so unsure. “What?”, your brows pulled together at his strange behavior. “Can you take care of me?”, his eyes seemed cold, but his breathing betrayed how he truly felt. “Oh, you want me to-“, your eyes widened. “N-no, I want you to take care of me”, he coldly looked at you. “I don’t understand”, a confused look in your eyes. “I think I want something else today”, he gently grabbed your hand and placed it against your cheek, “I don’t know what, exactly, but I know that I want to feel as I did earlier”. “Earlier?”. “When you were stroking through my hair… I want that feeling”, he softly guided your hand to his hair.

He didn’t know what he was asking. He didn’t even understand this part of himself or what he craved.

“I think I understand”, you sweetly smiled, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you”.

Feitan watched as you moved away.

“Where are you going?”, he jolted upright. “Well, you asked me to take care of you, right?”, your cheeks reddened. “Hm”, he nodded. “Don’t worry”, you shyly slipped out of your gown, “I’ll take care of you”.

Feitan didn’t answer. Instead, he sat back again.

“You always take care of me”, you gently sat on his lap; your arms wrapped around his neck. “You think I don’t notice everything you do for me?”, you whispered as you massaged the back of his head.

Feitan’s heart started to race. Your voice never sounded so soft.

“Hm”, his eyes were locked to the ground. “Fei?”, you gently wrapped your hands around his cheeks, “I notice everything”.

His eyes widened as he saw the vulnerable look in your eyes.

“D-don't-” he frowned as you pushed against his chest. “Let me take care of you. I promise I’ll make you feel good”, you placed another soft kiss on his cheek.

He wasn’t used to this; for you take control but… It felt nice.

Your hands gently tugged on his belt, eager to see more of him.

Feitan took off his clothes and threw them into the nearest corner of your room.  

“Fei?”, you gently placed yourself on top of him. “What?”, his cold gaze hid every ounce of emotion he felt. “Tell me what you want me to do”, another kiss against his cheek.

“I-I want you to take care of me-“. “How?”, you left a trail of kisses on his chest, down to his stomach. “You know how”, an irritated sigh. “I don’t”, your hand gently stroked his member. “F-fine”, he loudly swallowed, “I want you on top of me… I want you to tell me how much you enjoy being mine and… And I want you to tell me that you, I don’t know, love me or something”.

Your eyes widened as you noticed his stubborn expression. You never saw this side of him. Despite knowing him for so long, you still didn’t know who he truly was; what he was hiding deep inside of him.

You nodded as you shifted on top of him; his member easily sliding into you. “S-shit”, he closed his eyes. He wasn’t used to you being on top. “Fei-“, you slowly started to ride him. “Hm?”, his hands grabbed your waist; guiding you. “I love you”, your hands resting against his chest, “I love you not because you make me feel good but because you take care of me-“. “Y/N-“, he practically moaned your name. “I love the way you look out for me; how you ignore your own needs for me… I love how you look at me and at anyone who dares to look in my direction-“. “S-stop-“, he pressed his head against the mattress.

He didn’t want to come already. Not now. This felt too good to be true.

“I-I love how jealous you get and how good you look when you’re angry at me-“, you picked up the pace, your eyes closed in pleasure. “Y-you like that?”, he admired how your breasts bounced up and down as they invited him them. “I-I do”, you grabbed his hand before he could do so and placed it between your thighs. “F-fuck Y/N-“, he loudly swallowed. “Together?”, you leaned forward as you pressed your lips against his. “H-hm”, he gently grabbed your jaw as his other hand rested on the back of your neck.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your climax.

“Fuck, that felt good”, you softly moaned against his ear. Your body still shaking. “You were amazing”. You noticed how his voice didn’t feel as cold as before. “Fei?”, you gently pulled away. “Yes?”, he softly stroked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you”, you barely whispered.

For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, but luckily his heart knew.

“I don’t know what love is”, his voice still rough, “But I think that this comes pretty close”.

[moonandst4rs]

"Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me"

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Masterlist

DEAN WINCHESTER X GN!READER

WC: 894

Summary: Dean thinks you're too good for this life, and him

Warnings / Content: Inspired by Angels like you by Miley Cyrus, Angst and fluff, no use of y/n,

A/N: Feel free to request of simply just chat !! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

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Dean Winchester sat behind the wheel of the Impala, his hands loosely gripping the steering wheel though the car wasn’t going anywhere. The night was still and quiet, the only sound coming from the faint crackling of the fire outside. Beside him, you sat in the passenger seat, the soft glow of the dashboard lighting your features, calm and thoughtful as you stared out the window at the stars.

Dean let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He was tired, more than he’d ever admit out loud. Tired of running, of fighting, of losing everyone that ever meant anything to him. And then there was you—sitting there like a beacon in the middle of all his mess, like you didn’t belong in the darkness he lived in.

“Ever think you’re in the wrong place?” Dean’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it cut through the stillness of the night like a knife.

You glanced over, brow furrowing as you caught the meaning behind his words. “What are you talking about?”

Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes on the fire. “I mean, this life. All of it. The hunting, the danger, the…” He hesitated, swallowing hard before forcing the words out. “The damage. You could do better, you know? Be somewhere better. Someone better.”

The silence that followed felt thick, like the air was holding its breath. You didn’t answer right away, didn’t rush to fill the space, and that made Dean’s chest tighten even more. He almost regretted saying it—almost. But deep down, he knew it needed to be said.

Finally, you stood up, brushing the dirt off your hands. You took a few steps toward him until you were standing right in front of him, your arms crossed, your expression unreadable. “You’re really going to try to push me away now? After everything?”

Dean forced a weak smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just saying, maybe you’re too good for this crap. For me.” He avoided your gaze as if he was afraid of what he’d see.

You stared at him, your gaze unwavering as the weight of his words settled between you. The wind picked up again, s small reminder that the world that the world still moved, even in times where it felt like time came to a halt. The soft hum of the night continued, but you were all to focused on the man next to you.

“You don’t get to decide where i belong, Dean.” You replied quietly, although there was determination behind your words. You take another moment to analyse his body language, the way his jaw was clenched, like he was holding something back. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the way his eyes kept darting around in silent wait. “You think I’m too good for this life, for you? You really believe that?”

Dean opened his mouth but no words came out. His eyes flickered, as if he was caught between holding it all in and letting something out that he wasn’t ready to face. You could see it, the pain behind his eyes, the weight of his past. His mistakes and losses had worn him down, carved cracks into his heart that he tried to cover up with false confidence. But you had seen through it long ago.

You moved your hand to hold his, giving it a firm squeeze. “You’re not perfect, neither am i. But that doesn’t mean that you get to decide what I’m worth or what i deserve.” Your words were firm, a quiet challenge, but there wasn’t any anger in them, only honesty.

Dean shook his head lightly, a bitter smile tugging of his lips. “You deserve a normal life. Not this—”

“Who said I wanted normal?” You cut him off, a faint smile playing on your lips now. “I chose this Dean. I chose you. I don’t want a life where I’m sat behind a picket fence wondering where the hell you are, if you’re okay, if you’re out fighting on your own.”

The silence settled between you again, but this time is wasn’t as heavy. It was filled with something else, an understanding a quiet acceptance. Dean’s hand tightened on the steering wheel for a moment, his knuckles paleng before he let go, exhaling a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. His gaze shifted to you, the intensity as if he was trying to find the right words, the right way to let you in without breaking himself apart in the process.

“I’m scared,” He finally admitted, his voice so low it almost blended with the night. “Not for me, for you, i don’t want to lose you.”

You squeezed his hand again feeling the tension in his fingers, the tremor underneath. “You’re not gonna lose me Dean. Not unless you keep pushing me away.”

For the first time that night, Dean’s eyes softened, the walls he’d built so high beginning to crumble. He nodded, not trusting his voice, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now, like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it.

And in that quiet moment, with stars above and the wind howling, something shifted between the two of you, something unspoken but deeply understood. You weren’t going anywhere, and for now that’s all he needed to know.

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[cerisesparadise]

unspoken roads ㅡ park sunghoon

pairing - rising actor!sunghoon x fem movie director!reader

genre - romantic drama, contemporary romance, coming-of-age, lovers to exes to lovers (everyone deserves a happy ending), slight angst

warnings - none, other than writing this sent me on an emotional rollercoaster :’) maybe somewhat an open ending? (lmk if i missed anything!)

wc -  3.8k

synopsis - Once inseparable in the vibrant city of LA, Sunghoon and Y/N chased their dreams–he, a rising star in modelling and acting; she, a passionate filmmaker. When success pulled them apart, they believed they had lost each other for good. Years later, fate reunites them on the set of a film–she’s the director, he’s the lead actor. As old feelings resurface, they must confront whether their love can survive the same dreams that once tore them apart. Can they rewrite their story, or are some loves meant to remain lost?

a/n - hi!! so I can't even count the amount of times I cried while writing this, it genuinely sent me on a huge rollercoaster of emotions </3 Eitherway, the inspiration for this fic was NIKI's song "La la lost you"! Listening to the song made me think about the intent of the song, two lovers being separated in two different cities so - actor sunghoon in nyc and film director reader in la was born! I promise there will be more fluffy stories, but I hope you enjoy regardless! | bookshelf

On his rare day off, Sunghoon had no real destination in mind. Wrapped up against the biting winter air, he strolled through the streets of New York, the buzz of the city moving around him like a blur. Normally, he thrived in the energy of it all–the constant movement, the endless opportunities–but today felt different. There was nothing pressing on his schedule, no meetings, no rehearsals. Just time.

And in the quiet of that space, his thoughts drifted back to you. It wasn’t the first time. Every now and then, especially on days like this, he’d find himself lost in memories of LA. The way you used to pull him into some obscure café or alley, insisting it was your special place, even though anyone could’ve stumbled upon it. The way you’d get excited about your next project, your eyes shining with that determination he always admired. He hasn’t thought of those moments in a while–not intentionally, anyway–but they had a habit of creeping in when things slowed down, when he wasn’t distracted by work or the hustle of the city.

The cold air stung his skin, but the memories warmed him in a way that left him feeling both nostalgic and hollow. There were no answers in those memories, just lingering what-ifs.

It had been five years since he last saw you, and every moment since then felt like an echo of what his life had been before. The streets of New York had become all too familiar over the past years, yet it wasn’t the familiarity that hurt. Sunghoon had carved out a life here–navigating through the bustling avenues, attending high-profile events, and landing roles that had once felt like distant dreams. But as he walked through the city that had become his home, a weight settled in his chest. The echoes of laughter and love he once shared with you lingered in his mind, making the vibrant lights of the city feel hollow. He couldn’t shake the memories of you–the way you had once laughed beside him in the warm glow of the Los Angeles sun, the way you danced barefoot on the beach together as the sun set behind you. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever feel that spark again, lost in a city that reminded him of everything he had chosen to leave behind. One would say he’s living the dream, but to him it would never be complete without you in it. In LA, everything felt simple. Effortless even. But that was before the distance, before the cold realisation that dreams sometimes took people in different directions.

His breath came out in soft clouds as he walked aimlessly, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He had come here for a reason–some interviews, some shoots, the kind of opportunity he used to dream about when he was younger. Now, it felt hollow, like every victory he earned since you left only reminded him of what he no longer had. He tried to move on, to drown himself in work, but the thought of you lingered in the back of his mind like a song he couldn’t stop humming.

The last time he saw you was back home, standing in the doorway of your shared apartment. You had smiled that bittersweet smile of yours, the one that told him you were proud of him, even though you knew this was goodbye. “New York’s waiting for you,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears in your eyes. “I know you’ll shine there.”

He wanted to believe you, wanted to believe that this was just another chapter, that there would be more time later. But now, with the distance between you stretching not just across cities but across hearts, he wasn’t so sure.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him back to the present. It was a message from one of the guys, asking him to meet up for dinner. He ignored it for now, his gaze drifting up to the skyline. The city felt vast, cold, and impersonal, but it was exactly where you wanted to be–pursuing your own dreams. You always loved New York, even as a child. You used to tell him how you could picture yourself walking down Broadway, sipping coffee in Central Park, living the life you’d always imagined.

And now he was there. Living it without you.

A part of him wished you had asked him to stay, but he knew it wouldn’t have been fair. He couldn’t expect you to give up everything you worked for just because he was chasing his dreams. Love wasn’t about holding each other back, and he knew that the moment he boarded the plane to New York. Still, that didn’t make the ache any easier to bear. Leaving you behind in LA felt like leaving a part of himself behind, and even after all these years in a city that became his second home, he couldn’t shake the emptiness of what he left behind.

He paused in front of a small coffee shop, the kind you would’ve loved. He could almost see you sitting inside, a book in your hand, your eyes lighting up as you talked about your latest idea for a new movie. The pang of hope was sharp, almost cruel. For a moment, he considered walking in, pretending that maybe time stood still, that the years and distance didn’t erase what you were.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Because he knew–you weren’t waiting for him anymore. And somehow, that truth was heavier than the weight of all the dreams he's ever chased.

Sunghoon sighed, his breath visible in the air again, and turned away from the shop. Maybe this was just how it was meant to be—two people who loved each other but had to let go to chase their own stars. Maybe, in another life, another version of New York or LA, things would have been different.

But for now, the distance was too great, the city too vast. And he was lost. Lost in New York. Lost without you.

As he walked back towards the subway, the city buzzing around him, Sunghoon couldn’t help but whisper to himself, "La la, I lost you."

A few days later, as Sunghoon sat in the backseat of the car, his mind wandered once again, almost on cue. The streets of New York became second nature to him by now, but today felt distant, like background noise to the memories swirling in his head. He hasn’t thought about LA in a while, or at least, he hasn’t allowed himself to. But today, as the city rushed past, his thoughts drifted back to you, like they did the other day when he passed by the café. The quiet moments you shared, the late-night conversations, the way your eyes would light up when you talked about your dreams–it all felt so vivid, as if time didn’t pass at all.

It was strange how quickly memories crept up on him, slipping through the cracks of his busy life. Especially now, on the brink of something new. He wondered if you still thought about him in quiet moments too. Lost in thought, he barely noticed the car pulling up to the studio. With a sigh, he pushed the memories back down, burying them like always, as he stepped out to face the day ahead.

Sunghoon walked through the studio’s doors, his usual calm demeanour in place. The hustle and energy of the place were familiar–people darting from one end to another, lighting technicians testing their setups, and makeup artists chatting with the stylists as they prepared for the day. He had grown accustomed to the noise, the constant buzz of activity that came with every project, but this one felt different. Bigger.

“Sunghoon!” His manager’s voice broke through the noise as she approached, holding a thick packet of papers in her hand–the script. “This is the one, I’m telling you. It’s a career-defining role, the perfect chance to showcase everything you’ve been working for. The studio’s all-in on this, and they’re backing you hard. You’re going to be the lead of something special.”

He nodded, taking the script from her hands, and flipping through the pages absentmindedly. He already knew the outline–he agreed to this project because the story spoke to him. It was intense, emotionally raw, and complex. But he didn’t have the chance to dive into the full script yet.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tracing the edges of the script as he glanced over the pages. The movie, Unspoken Roads, had an almost magnetic pull–something about it felt deeply personal, even if he couldn’t quite place why.

The script unfolded like a slow-burning memory. Doyun, a man in his late twenties, had lost five years of his life to an accident–five years, including the memories of a woman he once loved, Eunjin. She was written as a beacon in Doyun’s forgotten past, someone he couldn’t recall but felt inexplicably drawn to. A road trip was their journey, but also a metaphor for piecing together shattered fragments of love, memories scattered by time. Each word seemed to pulse with the weight of something Sunghoon himself had long buried

Sunghoon paused. His eyes lingered on a line: “You can’t remember me, but I never forgot you.”

The words blurred as they sank in. Unconsciously, his breath hitched, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. Doyun’s journey, his confusion, his longing for a love he couldn’t recall–it hit too close to home. Sunghoon didn’t lose his memories, but it felt like he had lost something just as precious when he left LA. When he left you.

It hit too close to home, almost painfully so. He hasn’t thought about you in years–rather attempted not to–or maybe he did, constantly, but kept shoving the thoughts away, burying them beneath his rising career and busy schedules. But reading this, watching Doyun retrace a love he couldn’t remember, Sunghoon felt like he was standing in those shoes. He thought of you, the one he left behind in LA, the one who told him to go, to chase his dreams without you.

“We’re better off this way.” That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Or maybe you said nothing at all, just smiling through the sadness. And like Eunjin in the script, you had your own ambitions, your own road to take. He told himself it was the right choice. So why did it still feel wrong?

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. This isn’t about her, he reminded himself. It’s just a script. But as he read through the pages, your face kept flashing in his mind–every line felt like a whisper of the past, tugging at the feelings he so desperately tried to move on from.

Doyun and Eunjin’s story was all too familiar. The lost time, the unsaid words, the lingering question of what if? What if he had stayed? What if you had asked him to? Would things have been different? Could you have worked it out?

He swallowed hard, blinking away the sudden weight behind his eyes. Sunghoon didn’t sign up for this movie expecting it to strike so deeply, to unravel feelings he had locked away. Without realising it, a tear slipped down his cheek, then another, until his vision blurred entirely. The line between the script and his own past dissolved, and for a moment, he wasn’t reading Doyun’s story. He was living his own.

“Sunghoon, makeup’s ready,” a voice interrupted, like a background hum.

His thumb brushed against the tear-stained page as he stared blankly at the final scene. Doyun and Eunjin were standing face-to-face, years of separation between them, the weight of time palpable. His breath stuttered as he read Doyun’s final plea: “I lost you once. Please, I can’t lose you again. I love you too much, Eunjin.”

That line… was it something he would’ve said if he ever had the chance to see you again? Or has he already lost you for good?

“Sunghoon?” His manager’s voice was closer, more urgent.

He still didn’t respond, lost in the words, lost in a past that long slipped through his fingers. Tears continued to fall, silent but steady, until a firm hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality.

“Sunghoon!” His manager shook him gently.

He blinked, startled, realising his cheeks were wet. “Huh?” he mumbled, wiping his face quickly, disoriented by the emotion that caught him off guard.

His manager’s concerned eyes met his. “You okay? You’re… crying.”

Sunghoon touched his burning cheek, noticing the tears for the first time. He didn’t even realise. He let out a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. “Yeah, I… I’m fine. Just–this script, it’s–”

“Yeah, I know. It’s intense. But are you good to go? Makeup’s waiting.”

Sunghoon nodded, though his heart was still heavy. “Yeah. I’m fine- Let’s go.” He closed the script gently, his fingers lingering on the edges. But the lines he read, the emotions they stirred–they clung to him. Even as he stood and walked toward the makeup room, his mind was still back there, stuck between the story of Doyun and Hana, and the echoes of his own.

Maybe this wasn’t just another role. Maybe this movie found him, found him for a reason. Maybe it was time to face the past he left behind.

As Sunghoon stepped into the makeup room, the bustling atmosphere of the studio surrounded him. Makeup artists flitted about, their brushes and palettes busy transforming the actors into their characters. Sunghoon settled into a chair, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from reading the script, but the thoughts of Doyun and Eunjin clung to him like a shadow.

“Just relax, Sunghoon,” one of the makeup artists said, applying foundation to his skin with gentle strokes. He nodded absently, his mind still tangled in the narrative. But then, amidst the hum of conversation and the sounds of the studio, he heard it–a voice drifting through the air, clear and commanding.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go over the scene one more time. I need everyone on the same page!” The voice was familiar, and for a moment, he couldn’t place it. It pulled at his heart, wrapping around him like a memory he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Can we get the lighting adjusted over here, please? And make sure the sound levels are perfect for this scene. I need every detail to be flawless!” The voice was firm yet light, filled with a confidence that stirred something deep within him.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched as he froze. It couldn’t be. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him, right? Maybe the emotional turbulence from reading the script had scrambled his senses. He turned slightly in the chair, straining to hear better, but the voice faded into the cacophony of the studio. He felt a pull, an inexplicable urge to move, to follow the sound that resonated in his chest.

“Sunghoon, could you please face me?” his makeup artist asked, but he couldn’t hear her.

He had to know if it was you—if it was really you. 

“Excuse me, I just need a moment,” he said, surprising even himself as he stood up abruptly, startling the makeup artist. Without waiting for a response, he stepped out of the makeup room, heart pounding in his chest. He could still hear the voice down the corridor, and it felt like a beacon, guiding him.

As he approached the set, he held his breath, his mind racing. He rounded the corner, and there you were—standing with your back to him, surrounded by crew members who listened intently as you went over the details of the upcoming scene. You were as stunning as he remembered, even from behind. Your hair flowed down your back, and your focused stance exuded confidence.

Sunghoon’s heart raced. Was this real? Could it be? He took a cautious step forward, then another, compelled by the desire to see your face. He hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment press heavily on him.

“Y/N?” he called out, his voice shaking with disbelief, uncertainty twisting in his stomach. With shaking hands, he reached out as if to touch your shoulder, but stopped short. He couldn’t bring himself to reach out, not yet. What if he was just imagining this? What if the moment shattered if he dared to touch you?

You turned at the sound at your name, and the world around you fell silent. Your heart raced as your eyes met his. The surprise written across your face mirrored his own—a mixture of shock and disbelief washed over both of you, making the air feel electric.

“Sung- Sunghoon?” you breathed, your voice barely escaping your lips as you took a tentative step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. 

The distance between you both felt both infinite and painfully close. You hadn’t seen him in years, yet here he stood, transformed into a man who chased his dreams and succeeded. The man you once loved, now in front of you as the lead actor in the very film you were directing.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “Is- is this real?”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The memories of the last time you saw each other flooded back—his departure, the hurt in your eyes, the way you fought to smile through the pain. He left to chase his dreams, and now, standing in front of you, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of that decision pressing on him.

Your lips trembled as you fought to maintain composure. “I never forgot you. I thought… I thought maybe I’d lost you for good, Hoon…” A single tear slipped down your cheek, glimmering under the studio lights.

Sunghoon felt his own emotions surge, the dam he had built around his heart breaking down in an instant. “I didn’t know how to come back,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you every day, Y/N…”

The tears fell freely now, and he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, struggling to keep himself together. “I was so scared of what I left behind. And now… now here you are.”

You stepped closer, the distance between you disappearing entirely. “It’s like a dream,” you murmured, your voice cracking as you reached up to touch his face. “I never imagined I’d see you like this:”

Sunghoon felt the warmth of your hand against his cheek, grounding him in the moment. “Neither did I,” he said, his own tears flowing as he looked deeply into your eyes, searching for the love that had always been there, waiting patiently through the years. Instinctively, he reached up to hold your hand—the one resting against his cheek. His fingers intertwined with yours, and a wave of warmth washed over him, melting away the uncertainty that had clouded his heart for so long.

In that simple gesture, everything fell into place. The soft touch of your skin ignited memories of all the moments you shared—every laugh, every whispered secret, and every fleeting glance that had left him breathless. It felt like home, like the missing piece he had longed for during the years spent apart.

You looked at him, eyes softening as he held your hand tightly, as if afraid to let go. “Hoon…” you sighed, filled with a mixture of awe and longing.

“I’ve missed this—missed you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. The tears continued to spill down his face, and he didn’t bother to wipe them away anymore. “It feels like I’ve been searching for you in every role, in every city. I never wanted to forget, but I didn’t know how to find my way back…”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze unwavering. “You didn’t forget. Not really. I felt you with me, even when you were so far away, It’s like we were always connected, despite everything.”

As the weight of your shared history hung in the air, he took a step closer, closing the distance between you. With a gentle but deliberate motion, Sunghoon raised his other hand, resting it on the side of your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. He leaned in, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The world around you faded into a soft blur, and in that intimate space, it felt like time had stopped. The tears had slowed, but the emotions still ran deep, swirling in the space between your shared breaths.

He let out a shaky exhale, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and resolve. “I lost you once,” he whispered, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Please… I can’t lose you again.” His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through, the emotion clear in every syllable. “I love you too much, Y/N.”

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with the realisation that he was quoting one of your lines—the very words you had written for Doyun in the script. Hearing them from his lips, directed at you, made everything feel surreal and achingly poetic. You stared into his tear filled eyes, your heart racing, knowing that those words carried a deeper weight now than they ever had on the page.

You had written those lines with love in mind, never expecting them to be spoken back to you by the man who had once been your world. And now, as he stood there, saying them with every ounce of sincerity, it felt like fate had brought your story fully circle.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were different. They weren’t born from heartache but from the overwhelming sense of love that you thought you had lost forever. “Sunghoon…” you whispered, voice trembling as your hand gently caressed his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, eyes never leaving yours, the raw vulnerability between you palpable. “I’ve never stopped loving you, and I’ll never make the mistake of letting you go again,” he continued, his voice stronger this time, his hand squeezing yours. “I was lost without you. I’m done running.”

The world felt quiet, like it was holding its breath for the two of you. And as you stood there, hand in hand, you knew this wasn’t just an ending—it was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. Together.

You leaned in, forehead resting against his once more, and whispered, “You’ll never lose me again. I’m not going anywhere.”

© cerisesheaven — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my works. thank you angel!

[noemilivv]

Hellooo may I please request some fluff for a Husk x Angel! Reader who sneaks out of Heaven to see him keep track of the hotel? I wish to see the grumpy old man having a soft spot for her even if they are so different. Perhaps him teaching her how to prepare drinks or how to win a card game on his spare time leads him to confess his feelings for her. As a little extra, he finds it endearing just how innocent she can be in Hell's standards <3

as a husk lover, this is so cute <33 im loving this idea and i rlly hope i gave it the justice it deserves !!

Warnings: Seraphim!Reader, Swear Words, S1 spoilers, GN!Reader, Not proofread (I don’t have to energy to read through all of it it’s so long hsjsjsjs)

“King of Hearts”

Heaven was a place of glory and peace to the public eye, but Heaven… wasn’t all it was built up to be.

It had rules, as expected, but a lot of them… And some of the rulers weren’t exactly as open minded as you may think.

An example of this is when Princess Morningstar, the daughter of the fallen seraphim, Lucifer, came up from Hell to explain why sinners deserve a second shot, and how they can be redeemed by a redemption hotel of hers.

The meeting did not go as planned, Charlotte’s partner turned out to be a fallen angel, thanks to Adam, first douchebag man on Earth and in Heaven.

It had been a day since the meeting, and Adam, as well his lieutenant, Lute, wanted to meet with you, and you couldn’t imagine why.

We had a meeting yesterday? What could’ve been so important?

You open the door to Adam’s office, a bit hesitant. Adam sits at the desk casually, legs plopped over the top, shoving his face full of chips, leaving crumbs everywhere, as Lute stood beside.

“Sup, bitch.” You heard, barely audible, due to the fucking crinkling of the chip bag. ‘Wow, great start.’ You thought.

“Hi.” You said, a bit quieter than intended, as you sat down. “Look, we need to ask you a favor.” Adam said as he munched on his chips, you tried to maintain all the patience that kept you from chucking that bag of chips at his crotch.

“I’m listening.” You said, crossing your hands politely.

Lute piped up into the conversation, combing a hand through her silvery locks, “Lucifer’s cunt and her idiotic hotel are diminishing everything Heaven is built to represent. We need you to go down to that damned shit hole every week and give us reports.”

“And before you ask!” Adam started. “If you don’t, we’ll tell Sera how much of a dirty whore you’ve been, and all the filthy sins you’ve committed.” Adam said, a shit-eating grin spread wide across his mask- face? No, mask.

Your eyes widen, how the fuck did he know? “Fine.” You said with a sigh, an annoyed smile on your face, maybe you’d get to fulfill Emily’s wish of helping Charlie after all.

You stood in front of the door of the Hotel, taking a breath before knocking on the door.

Moments later what you recognize to be Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie, if your memory is serving you right. “Oh, hello again, would you like to come in?” She asks with a grin.

“Yeah.. I would.” You say, as Charlie steps aside to let you in.

You chuckle bashfully before looking to Charlie, “I know Heaven and Hell have never seen eye-to-eye, and I never really gave the yearly exterminations much though, but when I heard you at the meeting the other day, my perspective totally flipped.” You started, Charlie couldn’t have looked happier, and you saw out of the corner of your eye Vaggie eyeing you suspiciously.

“I was told to come down here to sabotage you guys, but after seeing everything you’ve built, even before that, I know I couldn’t do that to you guys. You don’t have to trust me, but I wanna help you, and I wanna give this hotel thing a shot.” You said to Charlie, well, to everyone who was in the lobby, which seemed like all the staff and residents that you knew of.

Vaggie sighed, approaching Charlie’s side, putting a protective arm around her waist, “I… I’m not so sure..” She said, eyeing you, not with hatred, necessarily, more so, caution.

“How about this,” Alastor pipes up, approaching the conversation, after being a bystander, “If you go against your word, and go against us, all of Heaven will know exactly what you told us, deal?” Alastor, or who you knew as the radio demon suggests, putting his hand to yours, offering a shake.

You shake it firmly. “Deal.”

The hotel fills with green flames and sparks, Alastor looks at you with a wide grin, “Well anywho, enjoy your stay, my dear, I’m off to visit one of my dear friends!” He says, walking off.

“C’mon, Vaggie! We gotta show them around!”

Charlie and Vaggie had shown you everything, and honestly, the progress they were making wasn’t half-bad, did it need improvement here and there? Yes. But it was pretty good considering.

The two girls had shown you off to your room, but honestly, you didn’t wanna go, it felt like your night wasn’t over. And you hadn’t really gotten to know many people, so you went to place you thought would be most lively, the bar.

Yeah… Not so lively. You go down and sit, the grumpy cat man, which you knew to be Husk looked at you. “What would you want to drink?” He asked, eyeing you.

“Oh, just a water.” You say with a smile. “Fuckin’ course.” He mumbles, pouring you a water and handing it off to ya.

You tap your nails against the glass for a moment, it was silent, awkward silence, maybe not for him, but definitely for you.

“So ya really think this whole redemption shit is possible? If you don’t, I don’t blame ya. Not like I’mma fuckin’ tell anyone.” He asked, sparking a conversation first, which had shocked you a bit.

“Oh, well yeah, of course I do. No one is truly evil, even in Hell, and with the right help, I believe all of these sinners could be up in Heaven.” You said, the same polite yet bashful smile plastered on your face, Husk took notice of it, giving a small smile, not that you noticed.

“Well… You’re right, sinners aren’t evil, but they are broken. Just because you’re broken, doesn’t mean your evil. You can be broken and still end up in Heaven, it’s just the people who are broken but don’t try to change.” Husk elaborated. Huh.

“Oh.” You said, eyes slightly widened, and a small ‘o’ shape of your lips, “I… never thought about it that way.” You mumbled.

“Sure, maybe not every sinner is gonna go up, but I’m positive most will!” You recovered quickly.

Husk let out a joking scoff as he smirked and rolled his eyes, so innocent, Husk chuckled at your naive antics.

Moving on from that, Angel eventually came down to the bar, with full plans to get wasted - so Husk made you help him out here and there.

He taught you how to make a few simple drinks, nothing too hardcore, and honestly it was quite fun for you, new, but fun.

Then when Angel drank one too many drinks, he sluggishly dragged himself up to his room, you assumed it had to do with his work, but you weren’t sure.

You weren’t ready to leave quite yet, so with no drinks to serve to you, Husk began to teach you how to win a game of cards, over the course of the hour or two you played, which was almost until sunrise, you made some fair progress.

Times like these went on till the extermination and after, Adam had found out what you had done, and you had fallen down to Hell for good, and honestly, you didn’t mind one bit.

You came down to the bar, Angel winking at you before sliding away, knowing your intentions for the night, you sat down and smiled at Husk.

“My usual, please” You said, “Shoulda known.” Husk said, chuckling softly, shaking his head, before handing your water to you.

“What’s the next topic your gonna talk my ear off about? Or are we playing cards again?” Husk asked, softly smirking at you, his gaze softer than usual.

“Oh no, I actually came down with erm… a report… of sorts?” You said, trying to not elaborate so much, not wanting him to catch on quite yet, although you have a feeling he might’ve, “And that is?” He asked, his head turned, putting away the glass he was cleaning, his full, undivided attention was now on you.

“Well- I.. Uh. I have something I need to ask you- Well more so, tell you, I guess?” You explained, using your hands to help elaborate what you were trying to say.

Husk was catching on, he always knew you had a little something for him, maybe not immediately, but it didn’t take long. “Well, Husk, I- Okay so, uh… Heheh.. We’ve spent a lot of time together.. And well, I just wanted to tell you- Wait ask you.. No. Tell? No, ask you- if maybe you uh..”

Husk sat there with a pleasant but patient smile on his face, he was more than willing to let you finish this on your own.

“If maybe… you wanted to go out.. with me..? Like uh, like a date? Or not a date, that’s fine too, well I-”

“Doll.” Husk said.

You shot up. He spoke. Shit shit shit shit shit shit…

“I feel the same way.” He said, his soft gaze on you, a chuckle escaping his lips.

You giggle awkwardly. “Oh and by the way.” Husk said, reaching into his pocket, “From that round of cards we played the other day,” He started.

“Was this your card?” He said with a smirk, sliding a card to you.

You look at it.

King of Hearts.

Damn, that was smooth.

[itsruki]

The Drug in me is you

Dom!Abusive!Sanzu x Sub!Abused!Younger!reader

MDNI! MINORS DO NOT READ!

Masterlist:

a/n: Here is the surprise..It kind of just came to me. I personally love it.

synopsis: Haruchiyo and you are a couple and have been together for 3 years. It's not a good relationship. It's toxic and very unhealthy. On the night of your 3rd anniversary, he came home late again. He missed the date. So you finally decided to confront him and potentially leave him

Trigger warnings: afab-reader , mentions of unprotected sex, domestic abuse, guns, fingering, petnames: good girl, baby, girl, angel

word count:  1,925

You were wearing his favorite dress, made your makeup look just the way he liked it, and cooked his favorite dinner.

You sat on the couch, waiting for him to come home, and that's when you began to think.

It's your anniversary. 3 years.

3 years of him putting you second. 3 years of him coming home late and doing everything that Mikey wants from him. 3 years of emotional outbursts, of anger, of rage, of despair, violence, drugs and parties. You knew what you got yourself into when you started talking to Haruchiyo. He was always known to be unstable. The drug of the day determined his mental state. Physical violence was normal, but it's not like you could speak yourself clear of that yourself. It's like you bring out the worst in each other, yet you just can't be without each other, and it's not like everything is bad. They call him the mad dog, but he can be quite a timid puppy at times. When the drugs are affecting him in just that very specific way, his emotions swing in the opposite direction. He turns into a whimpering mess….someone who you can't help but wanting to be protected. 

Images flash in front of your eyes of all the nights where he just begged for you to stay, begged for you to hold him because he felt like he would fall apart on the spot if you didn't.

Your head snapped back when you heard the keys in the door. You check the time.….3 am….at this point, the food is cold, and so is your heart.

Haru steps into the shared apartment, his motions a little wobbly due to the drugs that are probably in his system.

You almost dreaded the next question you had to ask.

"Where were you?...it's 3 am?"

His head snapped up, and he stared at you, through his emerald green eyes.

"What do you think, woman?! I was working my ass off!" you flinched. This was normal. Haruchiyo wasn't to be questioned.

"We were supposed to have a date night, Haru….you promised…"

He laughed. "And? Plans change. Besides, Mikey needed me."

You flinched again, your shoulders shaking.

"Could you please call next time?.... I was waiting. " You really were pushing it today. You just wanted to spend time with him.

"Why should I? It's not like you did anything special. Whatever. Did you make food? I'm starving."

"....Haru I..." you stuttered. You promised yourself you would finally stand up for yourself. "We need to talk." you said firmly.

He scoffed, "Okay. Talk."

He gave you that knowing smirk. This wasn't the first time you try to pull something like this. "Why are you like this?...why is it always me that has to wait?..." he laughed again. "Because you are just a girl, I keep around. You aren't my king. Nothing important. Just property." that stung.

Anger boiling in your stomach. You clench your first. "I am….not …. Mikey…" his eyes turn from lighthearted and soft to sharp, and his smile vanishes.

"Don't say his name like that. He is my lord. My king. Have some respect."

"It's not fair, Haru. I give you my everything, and I get NOTHING!" he growled. "And?! It's to be expected of you to give yourself up for me!" You stood up and looked at him, facing his eyes.

"You never do what you promised! You are always on drugs, and you always put me second! I deserve more! I deserve love!"

"Stop being such a spoiled brat! I give you a life of luxury, and that's how you pay me back?!"

You flinched. "I don't need all this, Haru! I don't! What I need is your love! What I need is you here! You became such an asshole! You don't even care about me!"

Haruchiyo came closer, only a few inches away.

"Watch your mouth. I won't let you disrespect me; understood? You are to follow me. You are to submit." At this point, you were fed up. He reeked of drugs and alcohol.

"Fuck you and fuck Mikey! I am done! I'm done with all of this!" He grabbed you by the arm. His grip was tight, and his nails dug into your flesh.

"Don't you dare say his name like that, and don't you DARE speak of him in this way, or I will kill you right here and now. I will kill you on the spot and leave no trace behind. You don't know who you are dealing with." You trembled in fear.

"You are scaring me, Haru…." he smirked, his diamond scares moving with his lips to a grotesque smile. "Good. Maybe that would make you learn." He let go of you and slowly stepped away from you. You took a deep breath; you weren't done yet. "Mikey is the sole reason we are breaking apart! Don't tell me you don't see that! You are ALWAYS high, and leave the SECOND he calls for you, regardless of the occasion!"

He turned his head and looked at you. "You really wanna go there? Baby girl, you are playing with fire right now."

He yanked you by the arm and grabbed your throat. "I won't let you disrespect me or my lord. Mikey is my everything. He is my world and my heart. You will never reach his level. You will never be him." You gasped when you felt the cold metal of his gun against your throat. Tears begin to stream down your cheeks. "Haru please. Please don't..." Haruchiyo was always unpredictable. There was no knowing when and if he would do something to you that's more than some slaps or some hits. 

He saw you sob and cry, tears streaming down your face. He looked almost satisfied. He grabbed you off the wall and pushed you onto the ground, placing his gun in the drawer next to him. "Look at you….that's why you will never be him...you are weak and pathetic…" You kept crying until you got a hold of your purse. You throw it in his direction. "I HATE YOU, HARUCHIYO!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. "I WILL LEAVE YOU. I'M DONE. I'M LEAVING!" Your whole body was on fire. He stepped closer to you and kneeled down on one knee before yanking your head back on your hair, so you had to look at him; your mascara was ruined. "You pathetic excuse of a woman...shut your mouth before I make you...and if I do...I will do it forever." He slapped you across the face before he got up and sat down on the sofa, legs spread out, a big smirk on his face as you were still sitting on the ground crying. 

"Go on. Leave. I don't need you. I know you have nowhere to go. Your family disowned you. You have no friends and nobody to go back to. So go on."

He untied his tie and filled himself a glass of wine that was on the little table next to the sofa. 

You couldn't see anymore. Everything was blurry from all the tears you were shedding. 

"What happened to you, Haru?….why is Mikey everything for you?…..he isn't doing anything for you, Haru…." He looked down at you, ready to go back and hit you again, but you kept talking. "I was always here….why are you like this to me?….I gave you everything, Haru…..I am always here." Something in his eyes moved. "I am always here…..every bad trip….every depressive episode….every rage...every time you can't sleep….every panic attack...I'm always here….I'm the one holding you...not Mikey."

"Don't speak his na-"

"It's not fair, Haru!" he faltered.

"It's not fair…." he seemed conflicted.

"What did I do to deserve this, Haru?... why do I not deserve your love?" You began to shake as the tears just kept streaming down your cheeks

"Am I not good enough, Haru?? Am I not worthy of love? Am I not doing enough? Please tell me so I can fix it...I don't know what I did….."

His face contracted, and his fists clenched.

"Please Haru…..I love you so much…..I just want you to stop hurting me….please stop hurting me…."

"I'm not hurting you...I…..I….I don't…"

A few individuals tears run down his cheeks.

".....I'm not...I…..I give you everything I have."

"Today was our anniversary…..Haru…"

His eyes widened. He forgot. You saw that in his face: "M-mikey needed me, I...I…"

More and more tears run down his cheeks

"I'm sorry...I….I just….I didn't…...I…"

He started shaking. His hand grabbed his face, fingers running through his hair. "I didn't mean to..." There is that face that always drew you back…..the vulnerable little boy.

You got up and went over to his sofa. He was shaking, his eyes not focusing on you. He was looking past you. His breath has irregular…..panic attack….

You wrapped your arms around him, his face in your chest, and your hand on his head. You began to run your hand through his hair. "It's okay, Haru...breath...I'm here…"

You held him close and rocked him back and forth as he started to wrap his arms around you. He began to grasp his arms around you and cling to you like a lifeline as he was furiously sobbing. Desperate and filled with pain and hurt.

"I'm so sorry...I'm so stupid...I can't live without you…I need you...i….I can't...please...I…."

He sobbed, hiccuping and unable to breath properly. You kept cradling him in your arms and whispering to him, "It's okay, Haru….I'm here for you...I won't leave you." He pulled you even closer, his face buried in your chest. "I don't deserve you...I never do, yet you always stay….you always stay…..please never leave...I love you so much."

You kept cradling him. Kissing the top of his head until he slowly calmed down. 

He looked up at you and stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate. You cupped his face in your hands and leaned down, giving him a soothing and soft kiss on his lips. He slowly kisses back, as if you could break with any wrong move, so gentle and soft. 

"I love you so much" he whispered

"I love you too, Haru…" 

You kissed again, the kiss hungry and desperate. Needy for love. 

"Please forgive me...I promise this is the last time…."

You knew it was a lie...it always was.

You kissed him again, and again. All you two wanted was love.

He pulled you in his lap, hugging you tightly.

"I forgive you, Haru...I'm yours…" you whispered. You two are unable to be without each other. 

After a few moments of cuddling and looking at each other, he began to kiss your neck. His hands were drawing circles on your thighs. "That's my favorite dress…" you nodded. "I wanted to look pretty for you" you whispered back to him. He gently caressed your cheek. "I'm sorry that I ruined your makeup" you shock your head no….

You leaned down, kissing his lips again. The kiss was soft and sweet until you tried to pull back. When you tried to pull back, his hand grabbed firmly in your neck and pulled you back into the kiss. His tongue playfully licked on your bottom lick, asking for entrance. 

Your cheeks heated up, and a soft moan left your lips before opening them for him. 

His tongue slid into your mouth. The kiss turned from gentle and sweet more and more to sloppy and messy. He held you close and began to rub his hand up and down on your calve. "Haru~" you moaned against his lips when you felt his touch. 

"Never let go…" you whispered before his hand began to give your ass some firm squeezes.

His other hand grabs your chin and tilts your head back. "you're mine….only mine…"

Another kiss. You felt him harden under you and began to grind against him, causing him to groan. 

His hand moved your skirt higher and higher until his fingers were properly under the fabric, gracing your panties. "You sound like such a good girl...so fucking perfect."

His fingers were running over your covered folds, you were moaning and throwing your head back. "You are so wet, my sweet baby….did you miss Daddy so much?"

He kept rubbing circles around your clit through the fabric of your panties. "Haruuuu~" you whimpered.

"What do you want, baby?" he teased

"need you….please…" You were just too weak for him. He pulled your panties to the side and began to run his fingers through your lips, collecting slick. 

When he finally pushed a finger in you, you moaned out loudly and long.

He began with a slow and steady pace, in and out, your walls stretching around his finger. His thumb rubbing your clit. A smirk over his face. Your cheeks turning more and more red. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his finger, penetrating your small hole. 

As you closed your eyes and finally adjusted to the feeling, he slowly pushed a second finger into you, causing you to yelp out. Drool spilled out of your mouth as he kept pumping into you. You were getting closer and closer to that sweet, sweet release….almost there...until he stopped the motion.

You whined out in frustration.

"Aww, was my baby close?....I'm sorry, baby, but you have to work for it….common angel… Fuck yourself with my fingers. Be a good girl~" he continued to rub your clit through that exchange. You slowly raised your hips before sinking back down, letting out a needy moan. You continued to ride his fingers. The sensation and slight embarrassment make it so much more intense. 

He held your face by the chin, holding your face up for him to look at while you keep riding his fingers.

You felt the knot in your stomach build up again. When he felt you tighten again, he began to move again. An aggressive and past pace that took your breath away and made you claw into his shoulders. He caused you an orgasm that felt earth shaking. Your entire body felt like it was on fire. You shouted, and tears were running down your cheeks. "Who do you belong to, baby?" he asked with a satisfied smile.

"You, Haru...only you." you stammered out. 

He chuckled before he stood up. His elbows hooked under your knees. You were too out of it to even realize that he unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, same as pulling your panties to your left ankle. It only registered when you felt his tip rubbing against your entrance. 

"I feel you drooling all over me, baby"

He rubbed the head of his cock between your folds, back and forth, back and forth, making it nice and wet. 

You held onto his shoulders, scared of falling if he wouldn't hold you.

"Haru please..." you begged for him. He gave a guttural and deep chuckle before slowly pushing into your drooling cunt. 

Your eyes widened, as he pushed in, your toes curling. You swore you could feel him in the back of your throat….it's so unbelievably deep.

Just as you finally adjusted to the feeling of having him inside of you, he began to thrust upwards. 

Your whole body was shaking, your eyes wide open, almost as if they would pop out at any minutes. Incohesive babbling was the only thing you mustered out as he kept ravishing your hole midair.

Your nails dug into his back and began to scratch him. 

Your cheeks were red; your makeup a mess; tears kept on running down your cheeks, your mouth open, tongue hanging out and drool spilling down your chin.

Your eyes were half closed, as your brain was just unresponsive.

"I love when you are fucked stupid, baby….makes me want to fuck my load right into you"

You felt the familiar knot in your stomach build up. Frantic whining left your throat the closer you got, which only fueled him more and more to thrust harder and faster.

When your release hit you, your toes curled, and you chanted out his name over and over again. "atta girl...fuck...you squeeze me so tight."

He kept on thrusting into you. His movement dragged out your climax until he gave you one last final hard thrust, spilling his hot cum deep inside your womb. 

Your body felt numb as he gave you a few more lazy pumps to fuck his cum into you.

He pressed his face into your neck as he slowly sat back down onto the sofa, still inside your pussy.

He slowly lifts you so he would slide out.

"Such a good girl…" he huffed out while leaning back.

"Be a doll and light me a cigarette, angel"

While still being completely out of it, you lean over to the little coffee table and grab the box of cigarettes and the lighter.

You fumble one out and place it between his lips. With shaky hands, you lit the cigarette for him and then place the lighter back. 

He kissed your temple before leaning back and smoking. "Thanks doll."

You leaned your head against his chest and tried to calm your breath.

The room went quiet. Both of you were not speaking a word. 

For him, this is a sweet moment of tenderness, and for you…..it's the realization that this whole circle will continue once more.

Again, you were not able to leave.

Again, you were just too weak for him….but….can anyone blame you?

Haruchiyo was just that—a drug. You can't stop….your drug….

Taglist:

@agustdswifey @burntmarshmallowchishiya @mitsuyas-version

©itsruki reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

What kind of interaction would the reader have with the Decay of Angels. (Mainly Fyodor Dostoevsky, and Sigma ,Nikolai Gogol) how would they treat the reader?

(my poor baby need some Love Sigma <3)

Here you go. As I said before, all characters will get their own entries later. Same with Decay of Angels. Until then, I can share this headcannons with you.

On the side note. A little update on main entries progress. Self-Aware Dazai Osamu entry is in progress. The first third (Becoming self-aware) is almost finished.

Self-Aware! Decay of Angels x GN! Reader

Headcannons

Warning: OOC. Yandere. Stalking. Mentions of world domination. Mentions of killing. English is my second language.

General

🐾 Group, that take longest to join the others.

🐾 Not because of you or their feelings towards you. Because of how slowly they were introduced in the manga.

🐾 Their plan has failed. What they should do next? How it should be connected to you?

Bram Stoker

🧛 At first, he doesn't care, that he is fictional. It's not like he is walking around. Besides, right now he has no one, he can consider his friends.

🧛 But it changes, thanks to Aya. The girl is mesmerized by you and your world, and, after being appointed as Bram's 'guardian', she tried to show Bram, how wonderful your world is.

🧛 Slowly, Bram warm towards you. You don't seem bad. Besides, your emotions feel nice. Also, there is so much interesting in your world.

🧛 Like to watch videos with you and Aya. Sometimes, two of them watch something on their own.

🧛 Will try to find a way to get his body back and control his ability again. Because this ability will help you. He will give you an army of vampires, ready to serve you.

🧛 You are normal human. You are an interesting human. You treat someone like him is human. He will help to bring the human world to their knees for you.

Sigma

🃏 At first, Sigma is on the cross road. It's not like he is entirely human, so knowing that he is fictional, doesn't hit him as hard as the other characters. Bit, still, it hurts, to know, that he was created for someone else's entertainment. And the voice of Guiding Light. They were praising him. Lowing him. Did you try to trick him? Was it the same situation, as with Dostoevsky, three years ago?

🃏 No. It was different. You aren't fake. You were real. Not only that, but you liked him for simply existing. You liked him as he is. No need to use his ability or do something for you.

🃏 Sigma would observe your messages. To make sure, that people won't try to scam you.

🃏 One time, on The Internet, you were discussing with other people what would you do, if you had a chance to see Sigma in real life. Sigma was disgusted by some responses. But then, he heard you.

"I would give him a cookie and ask for a hug".

Congrats, Sigma is now as red as a tomato.

🃏 Sigma will memorize everything about you. He doesn't want to lose you. Near you, he has a scene of purpose.

🃏 His purpose - be in your life. To make you feel happy.

____________

Sigma grumbles under his breath, looking another scam message from your mailbox.

The same person has been trying to scam you for a while.

Sigma send the scam letter to Fyodor. He will help to deal with thief.

Parasite, that want to hurt you. Who wants to steal from you. He deserved to be punished.

Sigma looked at the Little Light, floating above him. One day, he will see the true you. One day, he will bask in your emotions. And he will give you a hug you want so much.

Nikolai Gogol

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🤡 Let's just say, after some time of internal conflict, reassuring words and conversations with other characters, Gogol will see you as the embodiment of freedom. A real person, who doesn't need to follow the plot and can do anything they want.

🤡 Gogol is one of the characters who became obsessed with you. He believes, that he will become free, if he stays near you.

🤡 Your influence broke the plot chains. Your influence make him realize, that he is fictional. Nikolai is grateful. He will do anything for you.

🤡 Like to watch videos with Circus performances with you. If you liked some magic tricks, will learn, how to do it.

🤡 He is perfectly sane, and knew, that killing is bad. But, for your sake, he will kill.

🤡 You are Their Guiding Light. You are his bird. He will fight for your freedom. For his freedom. For freedom of other BSD characters.

____________

Nikolai Gogol was angry. He heard from Sigma, that someone tried to steal from his Birdy. He wished he can drag the thief there. To make his last moments the real Hell.

Gogol wished, that you were there. His Birdy is so weak. They don't have ability. Everyone can take their freedom away.

Gogol looked at Little Light, circling around his hands. The proof of your existence. The proof of your emotions. Untouchable...

But don't worry. They are near. Soon he will be near you. Soon no one will dare to take away your freedom.

Fukuchi Ouchi

🐀 Became self-aware earlier, than other DOA members.

🐀 At first, he was simply curious about your world. Then, he became curious about you. Then, he became obsessed with you.

🐀 You don't have an ability. You live in the world with no abilities. His perfect world. You are perfect in his eyes.

🐀 Fyodor Dostoevsky is one of the hackers, who hacked BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan app. One of the creators of the portal.

🐀 Watch whatever you are watching. He just wants to spend time with you.

🐀 Perfection must be saved. And Dostoevsky will save you. He spent enough time to start trusting other characters. But he also won't stand back. He will protect you.

___________

Fyodor Dostoevsky smirked. Nikolai Gogol and Sigma were standing near him.

Fyodor has found the scammer. Found him and post all his personal information for everyone to see.

And put a special virus on their phone. The one, that will connect his phone to the portal. The scammer will be the perfect lab rat for a testing.

Bright light.

Scammer was laying there. Bleeding, but alive. Fyodor Dostoevsky smirked. The next second, Gogol's hand grasp scammer's head.

Little Light were floating above them, as always. And his Perfect Guiding Light will stay perfect and safe.

The next day, BSD gang find the body of a scammer. Fyodor, Nikolai and Sigma didn't hide, that it was their doing. That they have tested the portal and protected Their Guiding Light.

"Aren't you afraid, that 'Kamui' will be angry at you doing things without an order?" mocks Dazai, looking at Fukuchi.

Sigma was first.

"I was working for Kamui for three years. Never heard anything good from him. And Guiding Light were nice to me. They are more deserving of my loyalty."

Then Gogol.

"He promised me freedom. He lied. But Guiding Light is there. They are my freedom. They are more deserving of my loyalty."

And then, Dostoevsky.

"Kamui promised the world without sin. He failed. But Perfect Guiding Light already live in sinless world. They are more deserving of my loyalty."

Fukuchi Ouchi knew, that he has lost to you.

[dawnoftime22]

hi! How do you feel about writing a fic where Taylor and fem!r get married? (Both in white wedding dresses btw)

I love your fics btw :)

wedding day.

| T.S

Warnings: lots and lots of kisses, a single sentence of 'I don't deserve you' quickly avoided with Taylor's reassurance, and thats it

Summary: Finally, after years of your shared honest love and months of planning, you and Taylor decide to get married, and it was your special day to wear your beautiful wedding dresses and walk down the carpet.

Word Count: 4.5k

Category: FLUFF!

A/N: hehe I really loved writing this request, and kind of got carried away...although I usually write for gn!reader, I still adored this, especially because I got to write this at work<3 (I work at a wedding venue btw! so its very perfect) thank you for requesting this lovely story! I hope you enjoy :] reeally sorry if its too long

pls don't judge, I have no idea how to write vows

| Started on 13/07/2024, 11:34 AM | the 13th :o

| Finished on 15/07/2024, 4:12 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“No more keeping score now, I just keep you warm.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

In the morning...

Sunshine filtered in through the window curtains, peeking in as daylight slowly arose, a gentle sight to lay your eyes upon in the morning.

You slowly stir from your sleep, feeling the brightness even behind your eyelids, at least until you opened them, needing to blink away the darkness that you once saw.

A yawn elicits from your lips, and you bring your hand up to cover it, stretching too, as you were at it. Once done, you take in your surroundings, registering that it was now morning.

Beside you, there she was. The love of your life, sleeping peacefully like an angel in bed. Her blonde hair almost seemingly glowed from the sunlight, radiant and nothing short of what you loved seeing.

You let out a gentle breath and reached up your hand, lightly tracing her cheek with the side of your index finger.

She was something precious, something you'd put in a treasure chest, or to keep in your pocket at all times to bring with you.

Her breaths were soft, so peaceful and deep in sleep that you if you weren't so close to her and inspecting her face, you would've thought she was gone from this world already.

You smile softly, admiring how her eyelashes went down, and her beautiful face structure. Simply everything. It felt unbelievable.

Today was the day. The day you'll officially put a ring on each other's fingers. Officially with a promise, a vow. You remembered how everything else before went, exactly how you had your small box ready, back at the restaurant balcony, with a stunning view.

But when you had brought out the ring and revealed it to Taylor, but in mere seconds of surprise, it doubled when she had one too, prepared to bring out still in her pocket until she showed it to you.

A small chuckle escapes your mouth at the memory, and you fade back into reality, focusing back on Taylor's curves and edges, and she was still asleep as you gazed at her.

Your eyes trailed over to the clock on the nightstand at the side of the bed. It showed 7:45 am. You still had some time, but you feared of the time needed to arrive at the wedding venue.

You lean down, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead. Then, pulling back only to go put another on her cheek.

A cheeky smile raised upon your face as you had an idea of waking her up, and you leave a kiss on the tip of her nose, then anywhere else you can on her face, peppering it all over her skin and trailing her jaw.

Slowly, Taylor was waking up by the tingling feeling of your kisses, feeling your soft lips lingering. She blinks away her sleep, letting out a small adorable and confused hum.

When her eyes find yours, a smile raises up on her lips, before she lets out a small giggle, now knowing the source of the tickles. She was still feeling your kisses, and it was the gentlest way she's ever woken up by.

"Good morning, baby..." she whispers groggily, her voice husky and quiet as her arms reach out to wrap around you, pulling you closer like a simple teddy bear.

"A very good morning," you reply back happily, and her heart jumps in joy at your voice, a chuckle leaving her lips as she knows exactly why you were so happy.

"Do you remember what today is?" you ask her excitedly, all while she was nuzzling into your neck, still kind of waking up. You on the other hand, had all the energy in the world.

She pulls back from the crook of your neck, looking at you with raised eyebrows. "Of course I do, silly..." she whispers, leaning in to kiss your lips and then brush her nose against yours.

You were all out filled with love as you gazed into her eyes, your smiles reflecting each other's without a doubt.

When you rested your head on her chest, her arms that were wrapped around you squeezes you lightly, feeling her very own excitement for today. "How did you sleep, baby?" You question softly, tilting your head to look up at her.

She gazes down at you tenderly before letting out a content sigh. "Amazingly...you?" she questions you back, wanting to make sure you had just the same comfort levels as she did.

You nuzzle into her face, making her scrunch her nose up. "Always, with you," your voice whispered. Taylor giggles, then buries her face into your neck again, feeling the blush coming onto her cheeks easily.

"You sweet talker...but I love you." She turns her head laying a kiss on your jaw, just between your neck, a warm, loving gesture.

Blood rushed to your very own cheeks, just about to feel dizzy by her love. "I love you, too..." you whisper back, closing your eyes for just a moment.

But upon remembering the important day, you open your eyes again, taking in a breath and pulling back to look into her blue eyes.

"Lets get ready to go, baby," you say, about to get out of bed, but Taylor's arms around you had tightened, pulling you right back into her embrace.

"Mm...just a few more minutes." She pouts, her eyes closed as she refused to get out of bed. At least, for now. She had just woken up, and wanted your time of snuggling.

"Mm, mm, we're gonna be late." You shook your head, murmuring to her as you tried getting out of her embrace, but very much failed, so you went up to boop her nose, which made her open her eyes and raise her eyebrows.

"Mhm, we won't be." she fought back, standing her ground in wanting to stay in bed, and you sighed softly, although the corners of your lips were raised up.

"The 'few minutes' can turn into an hour or more, sweetheart..." you reason with her, reminding with a hint that you still had your important wedding together.

She tried giving you a deeper pout and slight puppy eyes that had your heart clenching as you tried to hold on, but ti wasn't long until you hear a small sigh and a breath of, "Fine."

Your own lips turned down at her obvious expression of her slight frustration, and you lean forward to kiss away her pout, giggling softly.

"I'll make it up to you," you say, rubbing her shoulder before pulling her up with you to get out of bed again, to your success, but she was sagging against you.

"Not to say that I'm literally going to be your official wife today..." you lead on with a small melodical tune, going to the closet.

"Baby," she whines, and you chuckle, relenting as you knew she was a little disappointed in not getting some more time in bed.

You turn around to look at her. "Tonight, cuddles and kisses." your words held genuine as you hand her the clothes to wear on your way to the wedding venue.

She stares into your eyes, searching, then slowly taking the clothes. "...And more?" she asked quietly, going to place the folded shirts on the bed.

"And more." you lay one last loving kiss directly on her lips when she spun back around, surprising her, but she melted into it.

Once you part, you bring her to the shower with you, hand intertwined ever so gently for the warm water to rain down on your bodies.

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At the wedding venue...

When you arrive at the wedding venue, you get out of the car to round to Taylor's side and open her door, to which she gave you a loving smile as she stepped out.

After you both step foot on the venue, you were invited to do an outdoor photoshoot first, and Taylor had agreed to do it with you, the event planner leading the both of you.

You had to change into a different outfit, one of your choosing for the pre photoshoot. Once done, you both walked to where the photos would be taken, and the sight had your eyes shining with adoration.

It was an entire scenery that might have been stolen from your dreams. There was a cobblestone path that trailed down to a big garden of scenery. A swing was hanging off the branch of a tree, and a lake stood proudly behind it.

You were honestly sure that you would spend a picnic with Taylor here someday if you were able to. Even she was taken away by every little detail thats been placed here.

"Tay, look!" You say, pointing to the lake. Taylor turns her head, at first, her expression natural and only curious of your excitement, but her face lights up when she sees the different colored feathers of the animals sitting on the water.

"Oh, my god, ducks!" she said, pure happiness filling her as she squealed, a big smile on her face at the surprise. You giggled at her shock, watching the look on her face

"There's even swans!" the blonde pointed out, gesturing towards them with open hands, having not expected there to be animals in such an area.

You raised your eyebrows but then shook your head with a smile, turning back to face the photographer. "Can we take a picture with them?" You ask, hoping for the best.

The photographer chuckles softly, and nods. "Yes, you can," they answer, probably used to the question, but they hold their camera firmly before helping you both to get in a good position and pose.

You and Taylor also got a heart-hand picture together as a bonus, behind the two of you, two swans swimming, angled at the right timing and making their own little heart shape with their necks.

The hired photographer gives you a thumbs up, and shows you the pictures to make sure you were satisfied. They were friendly, always being gentle and giving positive affirmations, but helping to make the photos look perfect.

Everything was private. Even the pictures taken are only going to be for you and Taylor. Maybe some for the outside world, or just your friends and family, but not all of them. You stayed until you finished the photoshoot, laughs and smiles shared with the two of you.

Once done, you both walk into the building for your wedding, having visited before, but seeing it again made your eyes wide with mesmerization.

The venue was beautiful and huge. The side walls were glass, and the outside held scenery of the pretty outdoor gardens, flowers and trees; the place where you had just been standing in earlier.

Along the walls, extending up to the roof, there were vines decorated in a detailed path, curving and hanging off corners.

Inside, you were walking on concrete flooring, not green grass. Still, it was breathtaking. It seemed almost like a greenhouse, but it wasn't extremely extravagant. Just...perfect.

Yet, the stage. The stage was the main attraction. No, this time, not a stage for Taylor's concerts. Although, it would be great for an acoustic show, you can see the look in her gaze off to it. She was already imagining how your wedding was going to be like.

Upon the stage large white archways stood tall. Flowers were down below and in the middle of the archways, mixed in with the smallest little lanterns. It all had a glowing backlight too, adding onto everything to make it complete.

You and Taylor went to the dressing room to get ready, the time starting to tick down to where the guests was on their way. The room was cozy and dim, enveloping the both of you like a warm embrace.

On the side, there was a rack of your two white wedding dresses. They were beautiful. Chosen and decided by the both of you with the utmost care and sincerity from your hearts. The lace was soft, and parts were flowy enough to make a satisfying movement.

Of course, you needed to get your makeup on first. As much as you were eager to wear the pretty dress, it was best not to get any makeup accidentally on it.

The stylist greets both of you when she enters, giving a kind expression. She could see almost instantly how great of a pair you make, and it lightened her heart tremendously.

You moved to sit on the couch, sitting patiently and waiting for Taylor to finish her makeup first, the light surrounding the mirror helping in making her face glow.

To think that she was sitting here, in front of you, not getting ready for a show, but for a wedding. Your wedding. Together. Well, maybe, a show for you...but this...she was making an eternal promise of her love and for yours.

You were double checking the notes of when you walk down the walkway with the event planner, but you couldn't focus. You look to see Taylor in her makeup chair, absolutely gorgeous looking. She was your distraction, and you didn't mind it at all.

The event planner notices, and they couldn't help but smile. Yet, they took your attention once more just in case. Of course, you go over the planning again, remembering everything without a hitch.

Soon, the both of you finish your makeup. It was a light makeup that show parts of your natural faces while still making it glow.

You get into your dress, Taylor following along behind you and being careful on her touch upon the dress. You adjust everything and look over your own, the all white outfit serving as its one true color, and not off to creme or anything at all.

Just as you were about to take a step forward to ask Taylor to help with your zipper, you see her standing in front of the vertical mirror, her teeth sunk into her lip as she stared and looked at herself.

On the other hand, your heart absolutely jumped, seeing her in the beautiful gown. She didn't have her zipper up either, her hand holding the dress together and trying to reach for it.

You slowly walk towards her, your hand reaching out to gently pull her zipper up before putting your hands on her waist, making eye contact with her in the mirror.

"You look perfect," you whispered under your breath, nearly not even sounding out in a volume. But Taylor heard it, her eyes lighting up as she turns around to gaze at you, her cheeks rising with a blush.

"Really?" she breathed out, sparks flying in her heart. You nodded, smiling brightly at her as you took a step closer. Your hands slide up, gently grasping her arms.

"I almost don't deserve you..." you whispered, barely even above a breath as your eyes looked at every part of her appearance, shaking your head lightly.

"Don't think less of yourself now..." she says, her eyes soft when she brought her hand up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin.

You lean into it, holding the moment of vulnerability with her. "I chose you. I love you just as much as you love me, and maybe more," she whispers through the space between you.

"Mm. That can be argued," you murmur, mindlessly letting your mind take control of your mouth without meaning to. But she smiles at the comment.

"Shh..." she puts a single finger on your lips, shushing you softly with a gentle shake of her head. "Just take it, sweetheart," she whispers, which did indeed make you back down.

You let out a giggle though, absolutely surprised at how she took control of the situation. Now, Taylor gazed at you, full of awe. You smile softly and turn around, showing her the zipper you needed help with, and she gladly and gently pulled it up.

Afterwards, your hair was still to the side to have ensured it was not getting caught on the zipper, but she leans in closer, seeing the opportunity to lay a soft kiss on your visible neck.

To your surprise, you tilt your head slightly to look at her, eyebrows raised and a grin on your face. "You, look like an angel, sweetheart," she compliments you charmingly from your shoulder, having you blush for the 100th time today.

"Thank you..." you whisper out, looking down in shyness as she steps in front of you, her hands on your shoulders. She chuckles softly, seeing your blush.

"I love you," she whispers, kissing the top of your head as she pulls you closer. You lean into her, wrapping your own arms around her and feeling the fabric of her dress.

"I love you, too." you reply, closing your eyes with a soft sigh. The two of you needed this moment, how real it was, and how it wasn't a dream.

Outside, the room, the small amount of invited guests had already arrived. If the music and the wedding planner coming in through the room wasn't obvious enough, you can hear the mixed conversations outside, just barely leaking through the walls.

They were playing Taylor's songs specifically made for you on the speakers, mixed in with your favorite songs together, melodies that echo through the hall.

You turn to look at her, and she gives you a reassuring smile before the wedding planner goes to take you both outside, at the entrance of the venue so you could await for your walk together and prepare.

You take a deep breath in, seeing the long pathway, empty only for the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, and Taylor can see your nerves setting off.

"Are you ready?" She asks you softly, standing beside you with all the comfort her presence holds. You look to her, taking another breath in.

"I'm, um, nervous...but...yes," you whispered, your voice shaking as your hands trembled. Taylor smiles gently, her eyes softening as she gives you a reassuring kiss on the cheek, her wondrous lipstick not even smudging or lingering on your skin, but her lips ghosting your cheek.

"I'd walk down it anytime you want, as long as its with you, darling." she assures you, leaning in to lightly brush your shoulders in a loving touch.

"You're so sweet..." you whisper, your lips raising up in a soft smile, and it was exactly what she aimed for, her heart swelling.

"Take my hand, baby," she says quietly, holding her hand out to you, and you slip your fingers in between hers, intertwining without a doubt, but she can feel the tremble in your joints.

"We're gonna do this together...okay?" the blonde captures your eyes, squeezing your hand gently. Being assured by her blue set of eyes that only held love and care for you, you nod.

"I'm ready," you breathed out, seeing the wedding planner walk up to the both of you, making sure you were both calm and ready, and that your dress was spread out perfectly.

It was time. This was it.

The glass windows on the side of the walls started to be closed by large metal doors, closing out the outside light, only for the orange chandelier and lights evenly places across the venue to take its place. It was dark, but the walkway had candles alit on its sides, accompanying the red carpet. It was all just to prepare for the two of you to enter.

The guests waited, some holding their breaths, some already even getting teary-eyed at the mere thought that this was where you were both being locked in, officially an intertwined couple.

Taylor's mom, Andrea, especially. She held tissues ready in her hand, some already used. Scott was sitting beside her, getting emotional too with Austin.

When you walk out together, everyone watching gasps, their breaths taken away by the beauty of your dresses and how you two fit together like puzzle pieces in the right place.

Everyone except her parents was requested to have their phones off, and they all obliged, the camera person in front as the main view, but it wasn't the whole world watching.

Both of your dresses flowed and drifted across the carpet, Taylor's white dress having the look and idea of flowers, trailing their pathes.

Your appearances were alit by the many glowing candles and bit of spotlight upon you, up until you both reach the altar where the marriage officiant stands.

When you reach the stage, you turn to face Taylor, still holding hands. The marriage officiant starts her words, the waiting making your heart grow even faster in anticipation, and you tried to make sure everything in your head was correct.

Taylor's eyes were on yours, never leaving. In this moment, it felt like it was only the two of you. The whole world faded in just a gaze.

"Do you, Taylor Alison Swift, take Y/N Y/L/N as your wife?" The officiant finally says, her eyes going up to travel between the two of you.

"I do," Taylor says, her smile growing wider as she looks into your eyes and squeezed your hand, ever excited to hear every word in this special day.

The officiant turns to face you, her lips raised up. "And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Taylor Alison Swift as your wife?" she asks.

You nod, "Yes. I do," you say, your genuine happiness evident and overlaying your voice. Taylor's heart just about felt like it was about to explode.

"Now, since you have chosen to say your vows, you may hold each other's hands and speak in truth," the officiant says, lowering her book she was holding.

You take a deep breath, looking to the officiant before catching Taylor's eyes again, seeing her own hesitancy and nervousness in speaking her vows. You smile, and decide to go first.

"Taylor...I will love you, for all my life, and with my entire soul. You were there for me in my worst times, when I needed someone when no one else came to my aid. I don't know what I would do without you, but I know right now, I would do anything for you, and as long as I'm with you, I know I'm living happily. I wish to give you everything you've ever needed, all without resentment. All the kisses, all our shared days, we'll share with laughs and honesty. I hope we spend each second cherishing it all, because I will. With every chance I get. Because you, Taylor, are the love of my life, and I wish to give you this ring so we can have this sweet love forever."

You finished off your vow, some parts being shaky, and some parts holding the most absolute brightest smiles as you felt a swell building in your throat. Taylor already got teary eyed, a soft sniffle sounding out from her before she prepares and remembers her own vows.

"Y/N Y/L/N...With every guitar string scar on my hand, I take you to be my lover...After years and millions of tears, finally, with you, I'll spend all my time with until the end. You're the whole world to me. I promise that all my stares and gazing upon you, will always be filled with love, and my words whispered to you whenever you feel down, will always have care and sweetness. I vow that we'll always be together, in the times of need...and if there are, the times of the worst. The times that are the best, and anything in between. Take my ring, and I'll take yours, our soul to be intertwined, forever and evermore."

You tried blinking away the tears, but they had already fallen at her beautifully thoughtful words. She lets out a small laugh tearfully as she saw you already crying, even though she was, too.

The officiant had put down her book, and held out the board for the rings, and you both took one, slipping it on each other's finger with gentleness.

Once done, the officiant leaned back, and nods. "...I now pronounce you equally wed." she announces. Over in the front row, Taylor's mom was tearing up, looking up at the both of you proudly.

You gaze at each other, eyes holding your own reflections and emotions, and smiles wider than they've ever been. "I love you," you whisper, squeezing Taylor's hand.

"I love you, too," she says back, leaning in to kiss you, and you meet her halfway, your lips brushing before fully touching in a whisper of promise.

"We're gonna be together forever." You murmur against her lips, crying softly and needing to pull back slightly to gather yourself up, but forehead resting against her.

"Yes, sweetheart..." she whispered, smiling softly as she gently nuzzles her nose against you, the gesture making you pull her into an embrace.

Now it was forever, something you'll keep to for your whole life. Thank god for Taylor's indestructable makeup. All her tears had nothing against it, and especially not with her love for you.

The rest of the wedding went by amazingly well, with congratulations from many people, smiles, laughter, and loving stares. There was a polaroid moment, with you and Taylor and her friends only using polaroids to take photos. You danced together, and then cut the cake with Taylor too, both of you having brought the cut piece on the spoon up to each other's lips in a sweet gesture.

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

In the car...

The two of you had now changed into different outfits, sitting in more comfortable clothing. Taylor was driving, carefully keeping eye on the roads.

You breathe in the air, then let it out slowly, the seatbelt keeping you grounded as you sunk into your seat exhaustingly, but completely and utterly satisfied with how everything turned out.

The sunset traced your faces, and when you turn your head, it seemed to have made Taylor ever so graceful looking. You might have somehow fallen in love with her even more; if that was even possible.

You smile softly, unbelievably happy as you went to reach your hand over the centre console, resting it on her thigh as she drove.

"I can't believe we happened..." you whisper softly, your thumb soothingly moving. Her eyes flicker down to your hand, her heart swelling.

"But we did," she whispers, glancing to you. When she had the chance, she takes off one hand from the steering wheel, reaching down to hold your hand.

"And I love it," you said quietly. There was almost no more words to describe how you felt. It was all...overflowing your heart at this point.

She smiles softly, bringing your hand up to her lips to kiss it softly. "You're so precious to me..." she says, looking to see your ring she got for you on your finger. Her own hand held the same, but the one you got for her.

She kisses that part of you softly, too, making sure her love is known and marked upon it, and your face held a deep flush before you gently pull her hand to do the same.

The windows held the blurring scenery of a day, the sunset being the framing background picture of your love together, driving back home.

She was all you needed.

And you were all she needed.

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Happy Fathers Day.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

author’s note - happy father’s day, y’all, i know that is late but this cute little idea popped into my head and i just had to write about it. 🫶

word count - 7.3k

in which, father’s day was something that harry never envisioned himself celebrating in past years, but now that he has his own little one, he couldn’t be more excited to celebrate . It’s been almost a three years since your angel baby made an appearance (25 months to be exact) and today is father’s day you’ll be spending the day with your gorgeous husband and your prince charley, as well as some friends, family and a whole lotta love.

trigger warnings - mentions of panic attacks <3

June 18th, 2023.

Acoronf to Wikipedia, is a holiday honouring one's father, or relevant father figure, as well as fatherhood, paternal bonds, and the influence of fathers in society.

It was a very special day but also a slightly bitter sweet one.

As much as Harry loved celebrating Father’s Day with his family, and his biological father, he couldn’t help but think of his step father Robin on this day.

He passed away in 2017.

You wake up with a smile, the realization dawning on you that it's Father's Day. Excitement dances in your eyes as you glance at your husband, still slumbering peacefully beside you. An arm wrapped tightly around your waist like it always was when you slept.

You carefully climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb the man beside you before heading across the hall to your son's room to check on him.

It’s what you did every morning.

Your bare feet hid the wooden floor as you made your way over to his room, your hand reaching out to push the door open even more than it already was.

That was when you made your way over to the crib and your eyes softened at his peaceful figure.

Charley Robin Styles.

Born May 10th, 2021 at 09:18 am.

He's still sound asleep, cuddled up in his little fortress of stuffed animals, lying in his front which was a habit he picked up from his father.

A surge of love fills your heart as you watch him, grateful for the gift of being parents to such a wonderful little boy. He was so carefree and hardly ever kicked off, but that was before he started going through his terrible twos.

You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before you tiptoed out of the room, closing the door gently, and headed to the bathroom to prepare a special surprise for Your Harry.

With delicate care, you set up the bathroom, transforming it into a mini oasis. Soft towels, scented candles, and Harry's favourite shower gel adorn the space.

Everything is in place as you quietly slip back into the bedroom, ready to awaken Harry with your surprise.

You sit on your side of the bed, gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It's a special day.”

Harry stirs, blinking his eyes open slightly before a sleepy smile graced his face. "Hmm? What's going on?"

"It's Father's Day, love," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I've arranged a little surprise for you in the bathroom. Shall we start the day off with a relaxing shower?"

Although he had just woken up, you could see the small smirk that filtered into his face as the idea of a shared shower.

But there would be none of that today mister.

Harry's eyes widen with delight as he fully wakes up, realizing the treat in store for him. "You've outdone yourself, my love. Lead the way."

Hand in hand, you make your way to the bathroom, the anticipation building.

The flickering candlelight casts a warm glow as you step into the steam-filled shower. The soothing sound of running water envelops you, heightening the atmosphere of relaxation.

"Sit here," you gesture to a small stool inside the shower, covered with a plush towel.

Harry settles onto the stool, his eyes fixed on you. "You're spoiling me today."

He spoiled you every day so it was only fair.

"You deserve it," you reply, reaching for a loofah and squeezing a dollop of his favorite shower gel onto it. "Today, it's all about celebrating you as an incredible father."

You dip the loofah into the warm water, watching it foam up with fragrant bubbles.

Gently, you begin to wash Harry's back, your touch a tender caress. The lathered loofah glides smoothly over his tattooed skin, releasing a subtle aroma that fills the air.

Vanilla and Oak.

Harry closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation. "This is heaven. Thank you, my love."

You smile, your heart swelling with love. "I'm just getting started. There's more to come."

With each stroke of the loofah, you pour your love and appreciation into the simple act of pampering.

You work your way down his back, his shoulders, and his arms, focusing on every inch of his tired muscles, washing away the fatigue of fatherhood.

As you rinse off the soap, your hands glide through his hair, massaging his scalp with practised tenderness just how you know he likes it. The water cascades down, washing away the suds and any lingering worries, leaving only a sense of serenity in its wake.

"I'm so lucky to have you as the father of our son," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "You bring so much joy and love into our lives."

Harry opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours. "And I'm grateful every day to be your partner, to witness the incredible mother you are. Our son is blessed to have you."

Tears well up in your eyes as you lean in, your lips brushing against his. The shower becomes a sanctuary of love and appreciation, a sacred space where the bond betweenyou and Harry deepens, reinforced by the shared moments of tenderness and gratitude.

As the water continues to cascade over you both, you shift your attention to Harry's front, your hands working their magic against his butterfly tattoo with the gentle touch of the loofah. You navigate the curves of his chest, the contours of his abdomen, and down to his legs, ensuring every part of him is enveloped in the soothing embrace of the shower.

"Thank you for being such an incredible father," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "Our son is growing up with a role model who embodies love, kindness, and strength."

Harry's eyes glisten with emotion, his love for his family radiating from within. "Being a father is the greatest gift. I wouldn't trade it for anything. And I couldn't do it without your unwavering support and love."

You smile, the water mingling with tears of joy on your cheeks. "We're a team, Harry. Through the challenges and the joys, we're in this together."

Together, you rinse off the remaining suds, feeling the weight of the day and the world wash away with each droplet. As the shower comes to an end, you wrap soft, fluffy towels around each other, basking in the warmth and comfort of the moment.

After the shower, instead of getting changed you and Harry decided to stay wrapped in your pyjamas.

Well you wore one of Harry’s shirts and a pair of his boxers whilst he just wore his boxers and left his torso on show completely.

You cast a look over to the baby monitor that was resting on your husband's bedside table. “— shall we go wake up Char and head downstairs for some brekkie?”

Waking up your son was one of Harry’s favourite things to do, he loved to be the first Charley saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night.

Together, you enter Charley's bedroom, greeted by the sight of him still sleeping peacefully in his crib. His tousled hair that matched his fathers and rosy cheeks make your heart swell with love. Harry approaches the crib, his voice filled with warmth and anticipation.

"Good morning, little champ," Harry whispers, leaning over the crib rail. "Wake up, Char. It's a special day today."

Charley stirs, blinking his sleepy eyes open, and a smile tugs at his lips as he recognizes his dad's voice. "Daddy?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

Harry chuckles softly, reaching down to scoop Charley into his arms. "Yes, buddy, it's me," he replies, his voice brimming with affection.

Charley's face lights up with delight. "Happy Daddy Day!" he exclaims, his small arms wrapping around Harry's neck.

 You join in the tender moment, a loving smile on your lips. "Happy Father's Day, Harry," you say, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Harry's eyes twinkle with gratitude as he gazes at both of you. "Thank you, my loves. This is already the best Father's Day ever."

With Charley nestled against Harry's chest, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen. The delicious aroma of breakfast lingers in the air, inviting you to partake in the celebration. As you enter the kitchen, you see the table adorned with a feast fit for a king—fluffy pancakes, sizzling bacon, fresh fruits, and a steaming pot of coffee.

The morning sunlight spills into the kitchen, casting a warm glow over the countertops and filling the room with a gentle ambiance.

Charley's eyes widen with glee as he spots the colourful array of food.

"Breakfast!" he exclaims, clapping his hands in delight.

"That's right, buddy. A special Father's Day breakfast for all of us."

You settle Charley into his high chair, his little legs dangling beneath the tray. His excitement is contagious as he eagerly waits for his plate to be filled. Meanwhile, you and Harry take your seats, the anticipation of the meal bringing smiles to your faces.

You begin to fill Charley's plate with small portions of each delicious treat. Pancakes, cut into bite-sized pieces, are stacked high, adorned with a dollop of whipped cream and a drizzle of maple syrup. You carefully place a few slices of crispy bacon beside the pancakes, knowing it's his favourite. Ripe strawberries, juicy watermelon chunks, and a handful of blueberries complete Charley's colourful plate.

Charley's eyes light up as he takes in the feast before him.

“Yummy!" he exclaims, reaching out to grab a piece of pancake with his tiny fingers.

Harry leans over, his eyes brimming with pride. "Go ahead, buddy. Dig in. It's a special breakfast just for you and me."

You smile, watching the father-son duo bond over their shared excitement for the meal. Charley's small hand grabs a piece of pancake, and with a delighted giggle, he takes his first bite. A smudge of whipped cream adorns his cheek, a testament to his enjoyment.

While Char enthusiastically devours his breakfast, you and Harry exchange glances, savouring the simple joy of this moment. It's a celebration of Harry's role as a father and the love that surrounds your family.

"Thank you," Harry says, his voice filled with gratitude as he looks at you. "For this beautiful surprise, for being an amazing mother to our son, and for making every day feel like Father's Day."

Touched by his words, you reach across the table and clasp his hand. "I'm grateful for you, Harry. You bring so much love and joy into our lives. Watching you with Charley fills my heart with happiness."

Charley, oblivious to the depth of the conversation, claps his hands and exclaims, "Daddy!"

Harry chuckles, his eyes glistening with emotion. "That's right, buddy. I'm your daddy, and I love you more than words can express."

The breakfast continues, laughter and conversation filling the room. You share stories and jokes, creating memories that will be treasured for years to come. Charley's infectious laughter rings out, reminding you of the incredible gift of family.

As the meal draws to a close, you rise from the table, carrying Charley in your arms. With a satisfied grin, he leans in to give his dad a messy, syrup-sticky kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" Charley exclaims, his voice filled with love.

Harry's eyes shine with pure joy as he gazes at his son. "Thank you, Charley. Being your daddy is the greatest privilege in the world."

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After getting changed for the barbecue, all three of you were getting everything ready for when your guests would be arriving.

You were wearing a white knee length cotton dress, with white ruffles on the sleeves, paired with a pair of white converse seeing as you didn’t want to walk around your garden all day in heels.

Harry was wearing a grey tank top with a pair of multi coloured shorts to add a bit of colour to his outfit, his hair was pushed back by a bandana and some white Adidas running trainers.

Charley looked really cute. He was wearing some white and blue pin striped overalls with some light blue crocs on his feet and a hat sat backwards atop of his head to protect his head from getting burned.

As you stood in the kitchen, you stared at the open fridge, head tilted to the side, as you studied all of the food you had brought for your guests.

A million and one thoughts were running through your head.

Did you have enough chicken wings?

What about burgers? There were going to be twelve people at the barbecue but what if you ran out?

And salad? You hadn’t checked if anyone was allergic to anything, what if someone had an allergic reaction?

As the pressure of preparing for the Father's Day barbecue intensifies, the weight on your shoulders becomes almost unbearable.

The constant stream of tasks, the expectations you've placed on yourself, and the fear of falling short begin to consume your thoughts. The familiar signs of a panic attack start to manifest—racing heart, shallow breathing, and a tightening in your chest.

Why had you agreed to organise this bbq?

In the midst of the chaos, you don’t even realise that Harry has walked into the kitchen, his wedding ring being the only ring in his finger for the day and his nails freshly painted by you the night before.

Harry senses your distress and quickly springs into action.

"Hey, love," he says, his voice laced with concern as he approaches you. "I can see you're feeling overwhelmed. Let's take a moment to regroup."

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath. "Harry, I don't know if I can do this," you manage to say between gasps. "I wanted everything to be perfect, but it's too much. I'm failing."

Everything was becoming hard to focus on.

Harry's face softens with empathy, and he gently guides you away from the hustle and bustle of the preparations.

"Alright, darling," he reassures you, "let's step away from this for a moment. We'll find a quiet space where you can catch your breath."

With Charley by his side, Harry leads you to a serene corner of the house, away from the chaotic whirlwind that had engulfed you. He gently guides Charley into the adjacent room, making sure he's occupied and safe.

Harry didn’t ever want Charley to see either of you having an anxiety attack, it was something he never wanted his son to grow up to see.

He always made sure that your angel baby was in another room either watching tv or occupied by his toys so as to not see either of his parents having a meltdown.

That’s what made him an even better father.

As the door closes, a sense of isolation settles upon you, exacerbating your panic. Harry, however, remains by your side, his calming presence providing a lifeline.

He guides you to sit down on the sofa in the lounge room, he sits down beside you, his warm hand resting on your back.

"Focus on your breathing," he says, his voice steady and soothing. "Close your eyes, take slow breaths with me. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale."

You follow his instructions, attempting to mimic his rhythmic breathing pattern. The sound of Harry's voice becomes a guiding melody, anchoring you amidst the storm of your racing thoughts.

But the panic refuses to subside. The weight on your chest intensifies, and you clench your fists, feeling the urge to escape from the suffocating grip of anxiety.

You felt as though you were going to faint.

Harry senses your struggle and adjusts his approach. He reaches out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own.

“It's okay to feel overwhelmed," he whispers, his voice filled with empathy. "You're not failing, love. You're doing the best you can, and that's more than enough."

Tears stream down your face as the weight of his words sinks in.

“But what if it's not enough?" you sob, your voice choked with fear. "What if I disappoint everyone?"

You had spent too much time organising this for it all to fall to shit.

Harry's grip tightens, his voice firm but reassuring. "Listen to me," he says, his eyes locking with yours.

"You are enough, and you are loved. Our family and friends are going to be here to celebrate with us, not to judge how flawlessly everything is prepared. They're here because they cherish the time spent together."

His words resonate, breaking through the cloud of panic. Slowly, your breathing begins to regulate, and the tightness in your chest eases. You open your eyes, meeting Harry's gaze filled with unwavering support.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude and a bit raspy due to the crying your throat just endured. "I needed you to remind me of that. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Harry smiles, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You don't have to do it alone, love," he says softly. "We're a team, and we'll navigate this together. Remember, the true essence of today is celebrating fatherhood and the love we share as a family."

Oh, what would you do without him?

After you and Harry continued to sit next to each other on the lounge sofa, it wasn’t long before Charley was calling out for his father to come and play.

Harry seemed hesitant about leaving you alone but you were quick to usher him towards where your son was, telling him that you needed to get cleaned up before the guests arrived.

Now that the panic had subsided and left you feeling vulnerable, you knew that it was time to take care of yourself. Give yourself a little bit of TLC.

You stumbled your way to the bathroom, seeking solace within its familiar walls. The cold tiles beneath your feet offered a grounding sensation, a small anchor in the midst of chaos.

With trembling hands, you turned on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reached the perfect temperature—neither too hot nor too cold. Cupping your hands, you allowed the clear stream to cascade over your fingers, a gentle touch against your skin.

As the water pooled in your palms, you brought it to your face, splashing it with gentle force. Each drop that landed on your skin carried with it a whisper of relief, a momentary respite from the turmoil within. You repeated the ritual, each splash washing away a fraction of the panic that had overwhelmed you.

With each touch of the water, you felt a sense of renewal. It was as if the pure liquid carried not only physical cleansing but also a soothing balm for your troubled mind. The weight of the panic began to lift, replaced by a glimmer of calmness that danced within your soul.

After the final splash, you reached for a soft towel, its fibres caressing your sensitive skin. With delicate motions, you patted your face, the material absorbing the remaining droplets and leaving a sense of comfort in its wake. As you dried yourself, you focused on the rhythmic motion, finding solace in the simple act of self-care.

Once your face was cleansed and dry, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you was a survivor—a testament to your strength and resilience. The panic attack may have shaken you, but it did not define you. You were stronger than the storm that tried to break you.

Someone ringing at your ring doorbell snapped you out of your slight daze and had you turning your head towards the bathroom door.

Your guests had finally arrived.

Taking a small breath, you walked out of the bathroom, out of your bedroom and down the stairs and made your way towards the front door.

Harry had no idea who was coming today, he thought it was his family but boy was he wrong.

You invited his closest friends, Louis, Zayn, Liam, and Niall, along with their kids, to join in the festivities.

It was going to be a good day.

On your way to the front door you fixed yourself in the floor length mirror located by the door and pushed some of your hair out of your face, before pressing your hand against the handle and opening it up to see all their smiling faces.

It was adorable that they had all arrived together.

Opening the door, you were met with the smiling faces of Louis, holding hands with his seven-year-old son, Freddie, and Zayn, with his two-year-old daughter, Khai, perched on his hip. Liam trailed close behind, accompanied by his six-year-old son, Bear, while Niall stood beside his girlfriend, Amelia, wearing a grin from ear to ear.

"Surprise!" Niall exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice. "Happy Father's Day, Harry!

You looked over your shoulder at your husband who was with Charley. “— H, look who it is!”

Harry, who had been playing with Charley in the living room, turned his head at the sound of your voice. He entered the hallway, his eyes widening with astonishment as he took in the unexpected sight of his friends and their kids.

"Hey, mate! Happy Father's Day!" Louis greeted Harry, giving him a friendly pat on the back.

Harry's face lit up, his surprise transforming into pure joy. "You guys! I had no idea you were coming! This is amazing!"

Freddie, eager to join in the excitement, tugged at Harry's shirt. "Uncle Harry, we're here for the party! Are you gonna play superheroes with us?"

Harry chuckled, lifting Charley onto his hip. "Absolutely, Freddie! We'll save the day together!"

Zayn grinned, handing Khai over to Liam so he could give Harry a warm hug. "Mate, we wouldn't miss this for the world. Happy Father's Day! And trust me, our kids are gonna keep us on our toes today."

Liam, with Bear at his side, playfully nudged Harry. "You're in for some serious dad competition, my friend. Bear here is already strategizing for the water balloon fight."

Niall chimed in, wrapping his arm around Amelia's waist. "Happy Father's Day, Harry! We thought we'd come and celebrate with the best dad we know. Plus, we brought some goodies!"

Harry's eyes gleamed with gratitude as he took in the warm wishes from his friends. "Thank you all so much. This means the world to me. And Charley here is in for a treat with all these little friends to play with!"

Today was going to be a good day.

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The backyard was filled with the joyful sounds of laughter and conversation. You took a moment to step away from the festivities and went to the outdoor bar to mix a refreshing drink for yourself. As you poured the liquid into a glass, you felt a tug on your shirt.

Looking down, you saw Freddie, the son of Louis, standing beside you, his eyes filled with concern. "Hey there, Freddie," you greeted him with a smile. "What's up?"

Freddie fidgeted slightly, then spoke in a soft voice. "Charley is crying. He wants you."

Your heart melted at Freddie's words. You put down the drink and followed him, eager to tend to Charley's needs. As you made your way through the crowd, you reached your son, who was sitting on a picnic blanket with tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

Kneeling down, you enveloped Charley in a comforting hug. "Hey, sweetheart. What's the matter?"

Charley hiccupped, sniffling. "Mommy, I want milk."

You smiled, understanding his request. "Alright, Charley. Let's go somewhere quiet, just you and me."

Scooping Charley into your arms, you made your way upstairs, finding a peaceful space where you could nurse him.

You settled into the comfortable rocking chair, feeling a sense of calm and connection wash over you. As you adjusted your position, Charley looked up at you, his tiny hand reaching for your chest.

"Mommy, milk?" Charley asked, his voice filled with innocence and longing.

You smiled, recognizing the familiar request. "Of course, my love. We can have some quiet time together."

When it came to breastfeeding your little Charley, you and Harry agreed that you wouldn’t stop breastfeeding until he decided to stop himself. You wanted Charley to wean himself, you didn’t want to force him to stop when he ultimately didn’t want to.

Charley snuggled closer, his little fingers tracing patterns on your arm. As you guided him to your breast, the room filled with a peaceful silence, save for the soft sounds of breathing and the rhythmic swaying of the chair.

Charley latched on, and you could feel his gentle sucking, a reminder of the incredible bond between mother and child. The world around you seemed to fade away as you focused on this precious moment shared between the two of you.

Charley's eyes met yours, his gaze filled with warmth and comfort. "Mommy, I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You kissed the top of his head, the words melting your heart. "I love you too, my sweet Charley. More than words can express."

The room filled with a serene ambiance as you continued to breastfeed, the soft rhythm of his swallowing bringing a sense of peace and contentment. Time seemed to stand still as you embraced the simplicity and beauty of this intimate connection.

You stayed rubbing soft circles onto his back as he continued to suck on your nipple, Beverly thing was peaceful until a foul smell made its way into your nose.

Chuckling softly, you whispered to Charley, "Oh, little one, it seems we have one more task to tackle."

You tapped his diaper clad bum through the material of his overalls and watched as he unlatched from your breast, a clear indication that he was finished eating and giggled, head thrown back slightly.

Charley giggled, his laughter filling the room. "Di-di!" he replied, pointing to his bottom.

You nodded, reaching for the wipes and fresh diaper. "That's right, Charley. Let's get you all cleaned up."

As you began to remove Charley's soiled diaper, he kicked his little legs in excitement. "Tickle, Mommy!" he squealed.

Gently tickling his tummy, you joined in his infectious laughter. "Tickle, tickle! You're such a funny little one, Charley."

As you wiped away the mess with care, Charley's curiosity got the better of him. "What's that, Mommy?" he asked, pointing to the diaper rash cream.

"This is some special cream, Charley," you explained, showing him the tube. "It helps to keep your skin nice and protected."

Charley nodded with wide eyes, clearly intrigued. "Skin nice!" he repeated, mimicking your words.

With the old diaper disposed of and Charley's bottom all cleaned up, you unfolded a fresh diaper and expertly slipped it under him. Charley couldn't resist reaching for the tabs, eager to help. "Me do it!" he exclaimed proudly.

You smiled, allowing him to try and fasten the diaper himself. "Good job, Charley! You're becoming such a big boy."

Charley beamed with pride, his little hands fumbling with the tabs. "Big boy!" he repeated, pleased with his accomplishment.

Once the diaper was securely fastened, you scooped Charley into your arms and peppered his cheeks with kisses. "All done, my little love," you said, cuddling him close. "You're clean and fresh again."

Once he was all clean, the two of you made your way back down stairs and made your way into the garden, a smile appearing on your face as you saw all your friends and family having their own conversations in the garden.

Charley was set upon the floor and within seconds he was racing towards his Aunt Gemma, Nana Anne and Grandpa Des, who must have arrived when the two of you were up stairs.

Making your way over to where Amelia was sitting, you plonked yourself down in one of the chairs at the outdoor dining table and offered her a smile.

The two of you shared a comfortable patio set, sipping on refreshing drinks and immersed in conversation.

Amelia smiled warmly, her eyes filled with genuine interest. "So, how's everything going with your family? I heard you and Harry were considering moving to a new place?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "Yes, we've been thinking about finding a new home, one that fits our growing family. Charley is getting bigger by the day, and we want to create a space where he can flourish."

Amelia leaned in, her voice filled with curiosity. "That sounds exciting! Have you found any potential houses yet?"

You looked around the lush garden, your eyes scanning the playful scene before you. Harry was engaged in a lively game of football with Charley, Louis, Freddie, Zayn, Khai, Liam, Bear, and Niall. Laughter and shouts filled the air, mingling with the clashing of soccer balls.

"Well, not yet," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. "But with all these wonderful friends and family around, it's hard not to feel at home. We've created a little community right here."

Amelia's gaze followed yours, and she chuckled. "You're absolutely right. It's heartwarming to see everyone coming together like this. Speaking of which, how has your relationship with Harry been lately?"

 You took a moment to watch Harry, his face beaming with joy as he played with Charley and the rest of the group. "Harry has been an amazing partner and father," you said, your voice filled with adoration. "He's always there for us, and seeing him with Charley, it fills my heart with so much love and gratitude."

Amelia nodded, a soft smile on her face. "That's beautiful. Niall is the same way with me. I couldn't ask for a better partner. We've been through so much together, and his love and support mean the world to me."

As your conversation continued, you noticed Anne, Harry's mother, walking towards the garden. She carried a tray of freshly baked cookies, her face radiant with happiness. Behind her trailed Gemma, Harry's sister, and Desmond, his father.

Anne's eyes sparkled as she approached, her voice filled with warmth. "Hello, dears! I couldn't resist bringing some treats for everyone. It's lovely to see you all enjoying the day."

Gemma and Desmond joined the gathering, their smiles mirroring Anne's joy. The garden became alive with laughter and conversations, a true celebration of family and friendship.

You turned back to Amelia, both of you taking in the beautiful scene. "We're truly blessed, aren't we?" you mused, your voice filled with gratitude. "To have such incredible people in our lives, to witness these precious moments... It's a reminder of how fortunate we are."

Amelia nodded, her eyes shining with appreciation. "Absolutely. These moments, the love we share, are the foundation that makes life meaningful. I'm so grateful for the connection we all have."

With Anne and Gemma bidding their goodbyes and returning inside, the atmosphere shifted slightly, creating a more intimate setting between you and Amelia. The sound of children's laughter and the occasional thud of the football being kicked provided a comforting backdrop to your conversation.

Amelia took a sip of her drink before turning to you with a mischievous grin. "So, have you and Harry been considering any exciting plans for the future? Any big adventures or dreams you're pursuing?"

You chuckled, a spark of excitement igniting within you. "Funny you should ask! Harry and I have actually been discussing the idea of building our own little dream house. We've been searching for the perfect plot of land and envisioning what our ideal home would look like."

That was true, you and Harry had lived in your current London house for just over seven years together now, two years as a family and the other month, you had both shared a conversation about wanting to potentially expand the family and move house some time in the future.

You remember when you told Harry that you wanted to expand your family and the look on his face was priceless.

As the moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, you lay in bed next to your husband, Harry, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. There was something on your mind, something you had been contemplating for a while, and tonight felt like the right time to share it.

It was one of those quiet nights when deep conversations seemed to find their way to the surface, and you knew it was the perfect moment to share the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind.

Turning towards Harry, you mustered up the courage to speak your heart. "Harry, I've been thinking a lot lately, and I want to talk to you about something important."

His eyes met yours, his face reflecting a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "What is it, love? You know you can tell me anything."

Taking a deep breath, you gazed into his eyes, finding solace in his unwavering support. "I want us to have another baby, Harry. I know we have busy schedules, with your touring and album projects, but I can't help but feel the longing to expand our family."

A brief moment of surprise flickered across Harry's face, quickly followed by a cascade of emotions—joy, contemplation, and a hint of concern. His voice was filled with tenderness as he reached for your hand. "Love, that's a beautiful desire, and I understand how important it is to you. Our family means everything to me, and the thought of giving Charley a sibling fills my heart with warmth."

You couldn't help but notice the genuine reflection in his eyes, the way he processed the idea with care. It meant the world to you that he took your feelings to heart.

"But, love," he continued, a touch of uncertainty lacing his words, "I can't deny the demands that come with my career. The touring, the studio time—it can be a whirlwind at times. I want to be there for you and our family as much as I can, but I worry about the balance between my work and family life."

You squeezed his hand, offering him reassurance and understanding. "Harry, I appreciate your honesty, and I understand that your career is a big part of who you are. The fact that you're willing to have this conversation and consider the possibility speaks volumes about your dedication as a husband and a father."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze filled with gratitude. "Thank you, love. It means a lot to me that you see my perspective. I want to be present for our family, to create a nurturing environment, and I'll do my best to strike that balance between my passion and our family life."

His words resonated deep within your heart, affirming the strength of your partnership. Together, you were ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.

You leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Harry, I know it won't always be easy, but I believe in us. We've overcome obstacles before, and with open communication, love, and support, we'll navigate this journey together. We'll find a way to make it work."

You had been looking online for houses around the current area you were in as you didn’t want to live too far from home, but there had been a few lots that you had seen where you could build on.

Created The Styles Dream House.

Amelia's eyes widened with intrigue. "That sounds amazing! Tell me more. What kind of house are you envisioning?"

You leaned in, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "We want a cosy yet spacious home with lots of natural light and a touch of rustic charm. A place where we can create beautiful memories with our family and friends. We've even started looking into eco-friendly features and a garden where we can grow our own fruits and vegetables."

Amelia's excitement mirrored your own. "That sounds like a dream come true! It's wonderful that you and Harry are envisioning a space that reflects your values and allows you to live harmoniously with nature. I can already imagine the warm gatherings and laughter-filled evenings that will take place there."

You nodded, a sense of anticipation bubbling within you. "Exactly! We want it to be a haven for our loved ones—a place where they can feel welcome and cherished. We've been gathering inspiration, creating mood boards, and sharing ideas. It's such an exciting time."

Amelia leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It's incredible how our dreams evolve as we go through different stages of life. I remember when Niall and I used to talk about travelling the world, exploring new cultures and experiences. Now, our dreams are centred around creating a stable and nurturing home for our little one."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the ebb and flow of dreams and priorities. "Life has a way of shifting our focus, doesn't it? But it's a beautiful evolution. Our dreams adapt and align with the chapters we're living, bringing us joy and fulfilment in unexpected ways."

It wasn’t long before the barbecue was ready.

As the delicious aroma of grilled food wafted through the air, you all gathered around the picnic table, ready to enjoy the Father's Day feast. Freddie, Louis' enthusiastic son, proudly held his little notebook and went around, taking everyone's food orders.

Freddie approached Anne with a big smile. "What would you like, Grandma Anne?" he asked, pen poised over the notebook.

Anne chuckled affectionately. "Hmm, I'll have a juicy burger with all the fixings, please. And make it extra special, just like my son here," she said, playfully nudging Harry.

Harry laughed and nodded. "You got it, Mum. One special burger coming right up!"

Freddie moved on to Gemma, who raised an eyebrow teasingly. "What's on the menu for me, young man?"

Freddie grinned mischievously. "Well, Auntie Gemma, I think you need something spicy to match your fiery personality. How about some tangy chicken skewers?"

Gemma pretended to fan herself dramatically. "Oh, Freddie, you know me so well! Chicken skewers it is."

Next, Freddie turned his attention to the rest of the guests. "Alright, Liam, what can I get for you and Bear?"

Liam ruffled Bear's hair affectionately. "We'll have some mouthwatering ribs, Freddie. And don't forget the barbecue sauce!"

Freddie scribbled down the order and moved on to Zayn. "Hey, Uncle Zayn, what's your pick?"

Zayn smiled at his daughter, Khai, who was playing with her toys nearby. "Khai and I will share some tasty grilled vegetables, Freddie. We're keeping it healthy."

Freddie nodded approvingly and wrote down the order. He then approached Niall and Amelia, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Niall, Amelia, what can I put down for you?"

Niall grinned. "I'll take a juicy steak, Freddie, cooked medium-rare, please. And Amelia, what would you like?"

Amelia pondered for a moment. "I'll have a grilled chicken salad, please. Light and refreshing."

Freddie eagerly noted down the orders and made his way back to Harry, who was tending to the grill. "Dad, I've got all the orders ready. You're doing an awesome job, by the way!"

Harry beamed with pride. "Thanks, buddy. You've been a great little helper today."

As the food sizzled on the grill, you joined Charley at the table, helping him cut up his hot dog into bite-sized pieces. Charley's eyes widened with anticipation as he watched the food being prepared.

"Mummy, is it ready yet?" he asked eagerly.

You smiled and nodded. "Almost, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, and then you can have your yummy dinner."

Finally, Harry brought the platter of grilled delights to the table, and everyone's eyes lit up with delight. The air was filled with appreciative murmurs and exclamations of hunger.

Anne took a bite of her burger and savored the flavors. "Harry, darling, you've truly outdone yourself. This burger is absolutely divine."

Harry blushed modestly. "Thanks, Mum. I'm glad you like it."

As everyone dug into their meals, the table came alive with lively conversations. Gemma shared a funny anecdote from Harry's childhood, causing peals of laughter to fill the air.

"Remember that time Harry got stuck in the treehouse?" Gemma exclaimed, pointing at Harry. "We had to call Dad to come and rescue him!"

Desmond chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah,those were the days. Harry always had a knack for finding adventure, even in the simplest of places."

Louis raised his burger, playfully imitating a toast. "To Harry, the ultimate treehouse explorer!"

Everyone joined in, raising their glasses and laughing heartily. Harry blushed but couldn't hide his wide grin.

Amelia turned to Niall, nudging him playfully. "Do you remember the time you and Harry tried to build a secret hideout in the backyard? It ended up looking like a pile of sticks!"

Niall chuckled, a fond twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, how could I forget? We were convinced it was the best hideout ever. But let's just say our architectural skills were lacking."

The table erupted in laughter, the shared memories creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie. Conversations flowed freely, intertwining stories from the past with plans for the future.

Between bites, Liam leaned over to Zayn, teasing him good-naturedly. "Hey, Zayn, remember when we used to prank each other relentlessly? Those were some epic battles!"

Zayn smirked, reminiscing. "Oh, Liam, the pranks we pulled on tour were legendary. The fake spiders, the disappearing clothes—I still have scars from some of your tricks!"

Liam chuckled, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Well, mate, it was all in good fun. Besides, those pranks brought us closer together."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gathering, Harry's dad, Desmond, raised his glass, his voice filled with nostalgia. "To all the fathers here, both present and in our hearts. May we continue to cherish and nurture the beautiful bonds we share with our children."

The clinking of glasses resonated through the air, and everyone raised their voices in agreement, expressing their gratitude for the fathers in their lives.

As the conversation continued to flow, Charley tugged at your sleeve, his eyes sparkling. "Mummy, look! I cut my food all by myself!"

You beamed with pride and pulled him into a gentle hug. "Well done, Charley! You're such a big boy now."

Charley giggled and took another bite, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The table became a symphony of laughter, stories, and the clinking of cutlery, each voice adding to the melody of love and togetherness.

The evening wore on, and as the last rays of sunlight faded, a sense of contentment settled over the gathering. Plates were cleared, and desserts were served—a sweet finale to a memorable Father's Day celebration.

As you sat there, surrounded by loved ones, laughter echoing in the air, you couldn't help but reflect on the joy that filled your heart. Father's Day had become a testament to the strength of the bonds forged through love and shared experiences.

In that moment, amidst the conversations and laughter, you realized that it wasn't just the food that nourished the soul—it was the presence of family and friends, the stories and memories woven into every bite, that made the celebration truly special.

And as the night sky sparkled with stars, you glanced at Harry, his smile radiant, knowing that this Father's Day would forever be etched in your hearts as a day of love, laughter, and cherished moments with those who mattered most.

You turned towards your husband, whose grey tank top was now removed from his body due to the body heat and was sitting next to you with a blissed smile etched into his facial features.

You linked your hands together, the feeling of his wedding ring cooling down your skin ever so slightly. “— Happy Father’s Day, H.”

“Thank you m’love,”he turned towards you, leaning forward ever so slightly and nudged his nose against yours, forgetting everyone else that was around you. It was as if it was just the two of you. “— you made me a father, and for that, I’ll forever be grateful.”

Happy Fathers Day Everyone.

[maxiskindahere]

Hello! i just finish reading the Lute x Reader you just recently made and im Inlove I'm wondering that if you can make a part 2 of it? if it's not too much to ask, like Lute goes to reader after the trial or if the reader was with lute that's also fine and the aftermath of the extermination where reader was worried of Lute then she goes full shock when she saw Lute's State. This is just an Idea of mine of how the part 2 goes but you can always do it ur way :)) Thank you! <3

abso-fucking-lutely i can!!

it doesn’t follow the exact bit but i wanted to see if i could fit in everything you asked for 🫶 apologises if it’s not what you were expecting x

part one here

Extermination is entertainment | Lute x F!reader part 2

cw: swearing, talk of murder

Y/N sat quietly scrolling through ‘Blessed’, which according to the Winner who made it.. is the Holy version of an app called ‘Twitter’. She didn’t really understand the whole concept of Twitter, but she quite enjoyed Blessed.

Though, her quiet time was quickly disrupted as she notices a text pop up from Adam

DickMaster

good luck bitch

But before the girl can ask anything, an angry Lute bursts through the door “Those fucking hellspawns!” She shrieks, slamming the door behind her causing Y/N to jump in surprise “Holy shit! Give a girl some warning” Y/N exclaims, holding a hand to her heart

“All this talk of redemption after they killed one of us, they all deserve to die.” Lute rants, anger coursing through her veins “Wait, did they win?” Y/N asks in shock, putting down her phone “Of course they didn’t! Sinners can’t be redeemed!” Lute exclaims, taking a deep breath

“Sorry, I just..” Lute sighs, running a hand through her hair “Everyone on the council knows now, Adam exposed it.” She explains to the h/c angel who nods slowly, still not sure what the issue was “So you won! That’s all that matters right?” Y/N asks, a silly smile on her face

“I guess” Lute digresses, taking a seat beside Y/N who swiftly wraps her wings around her “You know, if you’re stressed.. I know a great stress reliever” Y/N teases, wiggling her eyebrows

“Please, you sound like Adam.” The lieutenant deadpans, playfully glaring at the other “Ouch!” Y/N says, holding a hand to her chest “You’re so rude”

“Maybe, but you love it.”

—

Realistically, you knew you had nothing to worry about. Those demons didn’t stand a chance against the extermination army but you were still extremely nervous.

If one figured out how to kill an Angel, the others could catch on.. and that scared her more than anything.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks softly, sitting down beside Y/N on the park bench “Yeah.. Just nervous.” Y/N says simply, picking at her fingers “Lute seemed off before she left, I’m worried it will affect her performance.” The girl explains, leaning against the back of the bench

“Maybe Charlie got through to her” Emily comments, a playful smile on her face as Y/N lets out a small laugh “I doubt it, she was really annoyed after the meeting” Y/N says with a soft smile on her face

“Well, I’m sure she’s fine!” Emily reassures the girl who looks down at her lap with uncertainty before noticing the familiar shine near Sera’s office “I think that’s them, I’ll be back” Y/N tells the Seraphim before swiftly flying over to the “meet up” point

She was excited, Lute had promised to help her with some basic self defense skills when she returned.

But what Y/N saw was the opposite of exciting. She saw a bloodied Lute, one of her arms was pulled apart and she was staring down at the halo in her hands.

“Holy shit” Y/N gasps as she notices it’s Adam’s halo “Lute? What the fuck?” She exclaims, frantically flying over to her partner, resisting the urge to hug her

“Adam is dead.” Is all Lute says, her gaze strong as she stares into the skyline “Are- Are you okay?” Y/N asks quietly, looking at the missing arm

She didn’t know what to say, how do you talk about that? For the first time in her life, Y/N was speechless.

Adam was dead, and God knows what happened to cause that.

And then there’s Lute, showing no emotion per usual but Y/N knew that look in her eyes.

“It’ll regenerate, now move. I have someone to talk to.”

—

it’s so hard to write abt what Lutes reaction was when she got to heaven bc we only see her with Lilith, but i personally would be in too much shock to care about anything else if i was her x

requests are open🫶 i’m trynna get back into writing and this is a lot of fun :)

[tan1shere]

Could you write a Young Miko story where she notices the reader is being distant. And when she asks it’s because of hate she’s receiving online and she’s not used to it. Like Miko comforting the reader maybe? So cute to think about.

My Angel

Young Miko x female reader !

A/n: Your wish is my command my love ! I especially find this fitting right now, so I hope this helps whoever reads it when you're facing hurtful people <3

Warnings: none, comfort only !!! Buttt maybe a bit of hate and language ? Small breakdown ?

Masterlist

It rang through your brain constantly. You couldn't get rid of those same words. Over. And over. Miko had noticed this change in you, she didn't know what was exactly going on but today she decided to get it out of you. You were drifting from her, it hurt her as she missed you. You knew the 'perks' of being with someone in the public eye, it wasn't as easy as you had thought. You were so confident that any hate you got you'd be able to handle it, ignore it even. Boy were you wrong. It kept on going, nonstop of how you didn't deserve her, how they'd be better. That, you could handle. You knew miko chose you for a reason. She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be. But it started getting more brutal. Little details you even hated about yourself, they'd mention it.

Then it got to the worst of the worst kind of hate. The 'kill yourself' and so on. It was getting to you near the end. You couldn't handle it anymore.

As you sat watching TV, you couldn't stop thinking about this one message you got. "Miko is just sorry for you, she doesn't love you, I mean look at yourself. You don't belong here or even in this world at that point. Go kill yourself." It played in your mind all day, a little voice chanting it. You couldn't let the last part consume you, but you were beginning to let it just happen. We're they truly right? It was tricking your brain into thinking it was. All the voices, all the messages. You couldn't think properly. You get a tap on your shoulder, it was Miko. She was finally home. You look at her, a bit startled but your expression changed back to its gloomy self.

Although you didn't look sad per say, your demeanor was cold, off-putting. "What's up with you lately?" She just asks at random. You furrow your brows, keeping looking at her. "What do you mean?" Fiddling with your fingers, you kept looking at her. But you couldn't bare it. "You've been so distant, have I done something?" She wonders, sitting beside you. You just shake your head. "So is there something?" Now you look to the side, such a stupid give away but you could feel tears pooling and you didn't want to look stupid. She gently grabs your face, and you curse because when she does a warm liquid comes down your face.

There was no stopping them, they had been bottled up inside for far too long. "Shhh, talk to me." She brings you close rubbing your hair. "Please? Im really worried." She continues speaking, doing her same actions. You couldn't form words, you sob and sob. But her sweet heart understands completely, she takes her time with you. Knowing that whatever it was wasn't easy. Gentle touches on your hair and your cheek as you rest your head on her should. Your crying had subsidied thankfully. Your eyes stung so you just closed them. "Want to tell me what's up mama?" Her tone was soft, and comforting. "I've, been getting quite a lot of messages.." You spoke quietly, feeling your throat hurt also. Having let so much emotion out you were just genuinely tired. "What messages love?" A sigh escapes your lips. You grab your phone to just show her as it'd be easier.

She reads everything, comments, dms, posts. It hurt her, not only were they being cruel to the woman she loved, but her own fans. "It's so hurtful." Your quiet voice speaks up. "I know, I know.." She sighs now. "You don't deserve any of this, you've hardly been in anything anyway, this is so disgusting." You hated the fact she was still reading the stuff, you could see how upset she was about the whole situation. You grab your phone gently, setting it aside. "I didn't want to worry or upset you-" She shakes her head. "I'm glad you told me. Although I wish you would've done it a bit sooner, I'm glad I know now." You nod. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you til now." She kisses your forehead. "I chose you for a reason, none of these hating loosers." You smile as she speaks a small laugh coming out of you. "There she is." Shes the one smiling now, you blush at her words. "Keep that, it suits you." She refers to your smile. "Oh Miko. How'd I get so lucky." You put your head back onto her shoulder.

"How did I get so lucky with you." She rubs your arm, as a comfortable silence approaches. "Don't listen to them from now on yeah? And if there's anymore, please tell me. Its no good keeping it to yourself like that." You nod and smile at her. "I'm glad you chose me." "I'm glad I chose you too my angel."

[imyourbratzdoll]

Could you do Bucky's POV for "she was his angel and he was her knight"? I would just want to know if Bucky did feel guilty but he was just hiding it.

I like your storys very much wether if it's smut, fluff or angst!❤❤❤❤

hi honey! thank you so much!

this is a sort of part 3 of you aren't nat, and she was his angel and he was her knight.

summary - bucky tries everything to destroy your happiness.

warning - angst, no happy ending for bucky.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

“So… You fucking my best friend now?”

The words echo in Bucky’s head.

“Can’t say I’m surprised. You have always been super easy.” 

He stares at himself in the mirror, following the bruises he received.

“I bet he wishes it was Natasha or maybe even Sharon. Do you really think anyone would want you as their first choice?”

His hand opens and closes. 

“Why should I? It’s not like you like her, and she’s just your rebound because you can’t have who you really want.” 

Bucky’s eyes connect with his own.

“Go on, Stevie. Tell her the truth, c’mon. Doesn’t she deserve to know that you aren’t better than me?”

His anger grows inside of him, remembering it all.

“You can’t take me, Steve. You’re weaker than I am.” 

All because of you, Bucky had lost his best friend. You just had to go and spread your legs for anyone who paid you enough attention, and Steve was the poor soul caught in your web. Bucky hated you and had hated you ever since he met you. When you asked him out, he found the perfect opportunity to make Natasha jealous and possibly hurt you simultaneously. Bucky really had no reason to hate you. When you met him, you welcomed and treated him like family. But the more you hung around him, the more he had grown to hate you, and now he hated you even more because you’ve turned his best friend against him. 

Bucky had come out of his room and headed to the loungeroom, noticing you and Steve curled into each other and Natasha and Sam the same. He scowled. He wished you would just disappear. No one wanted you here. He smirked. Maybe he could prove that Steve was just using you, yeah. He’d do that, and there’d be no way you’d ever compare to the Peggy Carter. He abruptly left the room, coming up with the perfect plan. 

A few weeks passed, and you and Steve were happier than ever, and it was pissing Bucky off. He smiled as a woman walked into the room and toward him. She was the spitting image of Peggy, which should make you see that no one wants you. “Bucky?” He nods, surveying her and feeling happy she kept with the 40s style. “What exactly am I doing?” 

He smiled charmingly, “You're just going to be my date to a party. Is that okay?” She nods, linking arms with him, and they head off to the party Tony had organised. More like yours and Steve’s engagement party, but if Bucky had it his way, there’d be no engagement, wedding, or you. They had entered the room, and Bucky grinned when Steve’s eyes widened slightly. His focus was on the woman beside his ex-best friend. When you saw what Steve was looking at, Bucky's smile widened even more. The smile on your face had fallen.

Bucky began to lead the woman over to the happy couple, feeling his heart skip happily as Steve’s gaze focused on the Peggy look-alike. “Hello, I guess congratulations are in order.” He watched you gulp, your eyes flickering between Steve and the woman. “Oh, right! This is my date.” She smiled, introducing herself and shaking your and Steve’s hand. 

Steve squeezes your side and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve, and this is my beautiful fiancee, Y/n.” Bucky frowned, wondering why he was now looking at you, not the woman he had brought. Steve’s eyes moved to Bucky’s icy blue ones and hardened. Bucky didn’t know that Steve wasn’t like him, even if he liked to think he was. Steve really did love you. He had loved you when you first met and loved you through it all. No other woman could compare to you, and Bucky had to realise that. 

Months after the party had passed, and Bucky tried everything to get rid of you, to hurt you. But it seemed like nothing fazed you anymore. Steve had clouded your mind from Bucky, and he couldn’t even ruin your wedding. 

Bucky sat outside, glaring at everything, not noticing Steve making his way over. “You know, she never did anything to you.” His gaze moved, and he glared more, “I don’t know why you hate her, and I don’t care anymore. You need to stop trying to ruin our happiness, do you understand?” Steve stared into the distance, where you stood, hand placed gently on your stomach.

“Please, you don’t love her.” He grunts as Steve slaps him across the back of his head. 

“Shut the fuck up. I love that woman with my entire being. We’re happy, Bucky. You should’ve been there as my best man. You should’ve been happy for me. You should be the fucking godfather to my child! But for some fucked up reason, you hate my wife. She treated you like a human from the beginning, and you just threw that kindness away. For what fucking reason?” Bucky stared at his old friend as Steve spoke, tears in his eyes with every word. “You don’t even have one. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” 

And with those words, Steve left, leaving Bucky alone. And for many years, Bucky would continue to be alone.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[hell-drabbles]

Mock-up Card 1

Basically it's just an L Card with the Embittered Companion and Lucifer working together because my brain is stuck on that for some reason? It's weird. Anyways, when you activate the Ultimate Skill of this card, you switch to either Lucifer or the Embittered Companion. A sort of, two-in-one card. Embittered Companion is all about dealing damage while Lucifer is all about healing. There's a boost to their ATK for a good while after switching. Don't ask about the numbers, I didn't think of them at aaaall.

Also I don't have it in me to write prose right now, so here be lines!!!

[First Encounter]

YOU: Hey. It's been how many years? You know, since I last took up a weapon to chase people away? It's pretty nostalgic, honestly. LUCIFER: …are you already forgetting what you promised us? YOU: I'm not gonna charge in head first, you two. Get off my ass.

[Level Up]

YOU: What I lack… LUCIFER: I'll make up.

[Evolve]

YOU: It would be nice, to have less lives lost. LUCIFER: But all we can do is continue on, until the very end.

[Ultimate Skill 1]

YOU: Go ahead and take a nap, Lucifer.

[Ultimate Skill 2]

LUCIFER: Sit. Rest. You're bleeding.

[Upon Death]

YOU: I'm still shit at keeping promises huh? LUCIFER: It's not your fault. Let's go.

[Victory 1]

YOU: Glad to see you've been focusing on the task at hand, Ra-on. Well, battle's over, so you can do whatever the hell you want.

[Victory 2]

LUCIFER: This is something to celebrate about, isn't it? …yes, you'll be invited to the party.

[Defeat]

LUCIFER: A mortal body such as their's does not deserve to have injuries like this. Keep quiet, they'll wake up. I know they will.

[Lobby Interaction 1]

YOU: It's kind of funny to me that, after all that, my normal body hasn't really changed one bit. Still the same strength, still the same weaknesses. LUCIFER: It doesn't make it any less remarkable to me. YOU: So you and Ra-on say. Well, I've been in this body longer than anyone, so I wouldn't know what to be impressed by. Everything about this body is just uninteresting to me. Doesn't make me any less happy that I'm back in it, though.

[Lobby Interaction 2]

YOU: Hmm? What are you staring at us for, Ra-on? We that good of a sight? …happy, huh? Yeah, I suppose Lucifer and I make each other pretty happy. Don't discount yourself though, buddy. Wouldn't be in the place that I am without your help.

[Lobby Interaction 3]

LUCIFER: Your hands. Let me see them. YOU: Huh? Alright, but why? LUCIFER: Ra-on told me you forgot about your blisters. YOU: Oh. Oh! No, yeah I did forget. Whoops. But hey, at least I'm wearing gloves this time around, so they're not that bad. None of them popped, so they should heal nicely.

[Lobby Interaction 4]

LUCIFER: If you wanted to destroy Heaven, would you? I wouldn't blame you if you answered 'yes.' YOU: …maybe a younger, more freshly wounded version of myself would've said yes, but as I am now, no. The fate of Heaven is not mine to control. I can only control the distance between me and that place. Besides, I'll hold onto hope that the angels will eventually weed out that sickening need to be superior.

[Lobby Interaction 5]

LUCIFER: Shh. They haven't rested well last night. Whatever it is you want to ask, save it for later. Hmm? Mm. Yes, they're… still haunted by everything. Not even in sleep can they be allowed to escape. A curse that not even my powers can relieve.

[Lobby Interaction 6]

YOU: You know, I haven't heard the name Solomon in a while. Did you finally put your foot while I was away, Ra-on?

[Lobby Interaction 7]

YOU: Another angel almost snatched me up today. Even in this human form they hate so much, they still want to whisk me up right back to that suffocating cradle. Thanks for the warning by the way. LUCIFER: While we were all once siblings connected through our love for God, I won't allow them to repeat that torture. If I must make my words absolute, then I will.

[Lobby Interaction 8]

LUCIFER: Have you adjusted yet? YOU: To what? LUCIFER: To your lack of extra limbs. To that body of yours. Is there any pain? Any noises that want to invade your eyes and ears? YOU: …There's nothing. Sometimes I'll feel like I'm missing something, but it's all blissfully silent.

[Lobby Interaction 9]

LUCIFER: Do you have no intention of staying here? YOU: I have no intention of ever forgetting you, Lucifer. But, I can't stay here. This is not my home. Our home, is right where Minhyeok is. Where our beloved earth is. Hell is nice, but I'm pretty sure Ra-on and I miss the comfort of our home's air.

[Lobby Interaction 10]

YOU: Lucifer? LUCIFER: Yes? YOU: If, one day, I decide to visit, would you welcome me? LUCIFER: …always. A small visit, or a promise to dedicate our existences to one another, I'll welcome it all the same.