#but I couldn't not mention her. like I said her love for feeding people is why I started the whole thing! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clauscielo · 2 months ago

Text

⊰⊹ pure, uncorrupted

pairing: arthur morgan & virgin!reader.

summary: you are too pure, too naive. and he hates to see other men fantasizing about tainting you. so, before someone else does - he decides to do it himself.

warnings: mentions of rape/sexual abuse, past physical/psychological abuse, corruption kink, arthur takes reader's virginity, arthur is protective, but lonely and hates himself. legal age gap, oral sex (fem receiving), p-in-v sex, loving sex, creampie - english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes!

he would never forget that day. trelawny had told them a few weeks earlier that, southwest of valentine, just a mile from the village, there was a farm: two houses and a barn. trelawny claimed there was a large amount of money hidden there, illegitimately earned by the family.

that's why they went. micah, bill and arthur set out into the night, riding toward that farm. thieves robbing thieves.

the family consisted of a father and two sons. they had no choice but to wipe them all out. arthur had never liked to take the lives of innocent people, but these people... they didn't feel right.

the house was very untidy inside, grimy, and there was a padlocked door on the upper floor. while micah and bill ransacked the downstairs, he took a look at the bedrooms, and of course, kicked in the locked room door.

you were in there. cowering on the bed, pressed against the wall, shivering and sobbing. you had heard gunshots and banging, you had tried your best not to make any noise, but they had found you. arthur was perplexed. he studied you for a few seconds, processing the situation: this family had you locked in this room. you were wearing torn and dirty rags, and your room was even more neglected. there were flies, food from days ago, and only one bed in the room.

“it's okay, it's okay. i ain't gonna hurt you,” he finally said, slowly approaching you.

micah arrived shortly after, and a crooked smile came across his face.

“well look at this, morgan! i say we have some fun. bill, get up here!” his cruel words irritated arthur deeply.

“get out of here, you foul thing! wait downstairs!” he raised his voice, and micah only let out a challenging laugh. still, he obeyed, after arthur shot him a menacing glare.

you, still shaking and weeping on the bed, watched him. the thought that the man in front of you had protected you from the others, soothed you a little.

arthur couldn't kill you. how could he kill you? it wasn't an option.

“what are you doing here, girl?” he moved a little closer and noticed that one of your legs was covered in bruises.

“i-i was... grounded,” you mumbled, between sobs. arthur frowned and clicked his tongue.

“were those your father and brothers?” he asked, his hand hesitantly stroking your forearm, seeking to calm you.

you nodded, hot, copious tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. he sighed.

“they're dead. i'm sorry,” he began, and his heart shrank at your obvious expression of relief. “you can come with us, we won't hurt you. we'll take you to valentine,” he added.

you nodded, raising your arms toward him. arthur accepted the gesture, and with his strong hands on your armpits, he lifted you and carried you in his arms, heading for his horse.

you refused to stay in valentine that night. you begged again and again to be taken with them. and this snarling, distrustful outlaw, softened at the image of you, a forlorn young woman alone in this world that had so embittered him over the years.

“we're taking her,” arthur said to the other men.

“morgan! we can't afford another mouth to feed!” bill protested.

“we're taking her,” he insisted, his tone firm and intimidating, and the others snorted.

it had been months since that night. you were accepted into the gang of outlaws arthur lived with, but you had a hard time adjusting. you developed an unhealthy attachment to the man who had rescued you, who you considered your hero. whenever arthur was in camp, you followed him, trying to talk to him. being close made you feel better. but he was very cold most of the time.

“girl, really, you need to leave me alone. what d'ya want now?” he said, his tone showing irritation, when you approached to talk to him for the tenth time today.

your smile vanished, your expression transforming into one of pain and embarrassment. you blushed and lowered your gaze, and before you could say anything, he snorted heavily.

“i'm sorry. i'm sorry, i just like to be alone, you know that,” he replied, exasperated.

you fiddled anxiously with the edge of your blouse, pursing your lips sheepishly.

“i just wanted to be with you for a little while,” your voice came out shaky and low. arthur's heart almost melted.

“come,” he said, curtly, sitting down on his bed.

“no, n-no need. i'm sorry to disturb you.”

“come,” he repeated, louder now, as a demand.

you shrank back but obeyed and sat down next to him. he looked at you, his blue eyes scrutinizing your sad, anxious expression, his frown easing.

“i can't be with you all the time,” he explained. your lip quivered, and you nodded.

“i know. i know. i'm sorry.”

“it's not because i don’t want to. it's because this... this thing you got with me, it can't go on,” he said, his hand stroking your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear, his actions contradicting his words. “you're gonna have to leave here someday. and if we don't stop this in time...” his words trailed off.

“i don't want to leave.”

“you're absolutely gonna leave. don't be silly. you don't belong in this kind of life. when you get your strength back, i want you out of here.”

you looked at him, wide-eyed, silent.

“don't look at me like that,” he spat, annoyed. but a second later, he sighed. “we're not doing you any good. not me, not anyone here. you understand that, don't you?”

“i don't have anyone else. i'll be alone,” you said, your heart racing with fear.

arthur stroked your cheek, thoughtfully. he had grown so fond of you these past few months, that he could hardly imagine his life without you anymore. but the rational part of him knew you had no future here, not with someone like him.

that's why he pushed you away. that's why he tried to ignore you. he couldn't stand seeing the way you looked at him, like he was a hero, a savior. because arthur was nothing like that. arthur was a criminal, a murderer, a ruthless, bitter, outlaw with no future, someone who only brought tragedy into people's lives.

“i don't like it when you're this mean to me,” you muttered, pouting, still hurt by how he had greeted you when you came.

“i know. forgive me,” he whispered, looking at your hand. he wanted to take it, to feel it, but didn't dare to.

weeks passed. arthur hated the way the men looked at you. micah, especially. that sick, deranged bastard. he mocked your innocence, your naivety.

“well, i've been dying to deflower that little lassie, the new one. ever since we saw her at the farm i been saying we have fun with her, but morgan won't let us,” protested micah, sipping from his bottle of whiskey, one night by the fire.

“do you think she's a virgin?” javier replied with curiosity.

“please!” interjected bill, laughing. “that girl doesn't even know what screwing is.”

“of course she doesn't. i told her to blow me the other day and she just looked at me with those dopey eyes of hers,” micah cackled.

arthur overheard the conversation and felt his insides boil. listening to those nasty old men, talking so crudely about a young, proper lady like you, made him sick.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” arthur snarled. he snatched the whiskey bottle from micah's hand and faced him, with an annihilating glare. “if you ever talk about her like that again, you better make sure i don't hear. or i'll cut that throat of yours so you never say a fucking word again,” he said, his voice low and intense, getting micah to turn away, letting out a nervous laugh.

he retreated to his tent, furious, and was startled to find you there. he put his hand to his chest and shook his head. “what are you doing here, you want to scare me to death?” he wheezed, anger still boiling inside him.

you looked at him with a smile and showed him a flower crown in your hands. “look what i did,” you declared, proudly, your eyes on his, perhaps seeking approval in his expression. he eased back and couldn't hide a soft smile, gentle and loving. he took the floral diadem and placed it on your head.

“beautiful,” he whispered. you blushed heavily and pressed your lips together, excited.

“i was reading and in the book, it explained how to make it and what flowers were ideal for it. i think it turned out really pretty,” you explained.

“yes. it looks very pretty. but you should be sleeping,” he scolded you.

“i'm sorry. i was excited and wanted to wait for you to come back,” you defended yourself. he smiled.

he couldn't help but bring his hands to your face. you were so precious, so candid and credulous. and those abhorrent men were talking about deflowering you just a few minutes ago... it made him feel like throwing up.

the affectionate gesture surprised you. your cheeks grew warmer. “what's wrong?” you asked, uneasy, and he dropped his hands to either side of his body.

“nothing. nothing,” he huffed, rubbing his face with his hand, frustrated, confused.

he knew he didn't do you any good. but how could he let you go? the world was full of disgusting men like micah. men who wouldn't hesitate to hurt this girl he had come to love.

he pushed past you and sat down on his bed.

“i want you to keep away from micah no matter what, do you understand? whatever he says to you. you stay away. and if he bothers you, you come and tell me immediately,” he said, without looking at you, his tone stern.

you didn't answer, you just nodded. you would do anything this man asked of you.

“are you sad?” you asked, moving closer to him. arthur was slow to answer, still not looking you in the eye.

“yeah. i am,” he admitted, sighing. you sat down next to him, and hugged him, trying to comfort him and also, seeking solace.

arthur wanted to push you away, to scold you for invading his space, to urge you to leave him alone. but he couldn't do that anymore. he didn't want you to leave, and each and every time he had asked you to stay away, he had betrayed himself. he let himself enjoy your touch, your scent, and your warmth for the first time. he closed his eyes and leaned in slightly, sliding his arms around you.

“forgive me for being a sorry son of a bitch to you,” he whispered, very remorseful.

“it's okay. forgive me for always being annoying.”

“you're not annoying. don't ever say that again,” he replied, his chest vibrating against yours every time his husky voice made itself heard. “i've been a real jerk.”

you fell silent. you didn't understand what this was about. and arthur was grateful for your ignorance. he wouldn't know how to comfort you, how to make you forget those nauseating words if you had heard how you were spoken of before.

“i need to lie down, sweetheart. i'm very tired,” he mumbled, pulling away a little. the affectionate nickname made your heart skip a beat. you nodded, watching him lie down, his expression one of displeasure.

“can i stay with you?” you whispered, fearful that he would say no. but he nodded without hesitation, and you settled in next to him. his heart was about to burst out of his chest. he let you snuggle up to him, and his arm slipped loosely around your waist.

“gonna stop by saint denis tomorrow to run some errands. wanna come with me?” he asked, and you looked up at him, your eyes widening with excitement.

“really?” arthur let out a chuckle and confirmed. “yes, please. i'd like that very much.”

your excitement stirred something inside him. he felt a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. such a sweet being like you...and your father and brothers had you locked in a filthy room, only to be discovered by men who just wanted to fuck you and leave you stranded. what would have become of you if he hadn't gone and robbed that farm with the others that night?

“okay, sweetheart.” he used the nickname again, which made you grin like a fool. “i'm gonna sleep now, okay?” he said, and stretched his arm over you, reaching over to the bedside table to put a glass over the candle to put it out.

you pouted, and rested your head on his chest. “okay,” you whispered back, closing your eyes.

arthur was trying to hide it, but he was so nervous. it had been ages since he'd been this close to a woman, let alone a woman such as yourself. his pants had started to tighten since you first curled up with him, though he tried to act normal, his heart pounding in his chest.

innocently, you ran a leg over his thigh, sighing. his arm tightened around your waist. he was restless, tense, and kept shifting his posture every few minutes.

inevitably, his eyes opened in the darkness. he couldn't sleep.

“i like being like this with you,” you whispered when you noticed he was still awake. “it gives me... this nice, funny feeling in my tummy,” you added, and arthur let out a shaky sigh.

“oh, yeah...?” he replied, absently, your words replaying in his mind.

“yes... it always happens to me when i'm around you,” you confessed, your candid statement making his cock grow harder in his pants.

“don't get used to it,” he growled. you looked up, saddened.

“don't you like being like this, together?” you asked, your voice low and apologetic. arthur exhaled hoarsely.

“too much, darlin'. too much,” he admitted, without looking at you. he was getting carried away.

you slid slowly onto his lap, and his breath hitched.

“what in the world are you doing?” he whispered. he panicked, feeling your pelvis right on top of his erection, which he had been trying to hide all this time.

“i want to be real close to you,” you whispered. “do you mind?”

he looked at you with pleading eyes and shook his head, he was speechless. he tried to push you away, but his hands wouldn't move.

“the book talked about this too... about men, women...” you began, your voice shy as you explained.

“no. we're not doing this, girl,” he protested. but he didn't really mean it. the least he wanted right now was for you to get off of him.

“please...” you begged. “i just want to know how it feels.”

his face was burning, his cock throbbing desperately in his pants, needing urgent relief. so you were indeed a virgin.

this wasn't right. he wouldn't take advantage of you.

“why?” you wanted to know.

“you're a virgin,” he declared, in a low gasp. you didn't respond, just shrank back a tiny bit, with shame. “my god, you're a virgin... no, i... i can't. i can't.” he covered his face.

arthur had never been with a virgin before. let alone a virgin with a life like yours. were you even aware of the importance of what you were asking?

“oh, don't do this to me, please,” he whimpered, his hands sliding over your thighs, down to your buttocks. you blushed and let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling your hips against his, trying to ease the burning between your legs. arthur let out a low moan, his eyes half closed, his cheeks red.

“baby... we can't... not with me,” he whispered, desperate.

“i want it to be with you,” you murmured. and he had no more strength to resist.

“do... do you want me to put it inside you?” he asked, pressing his pelvis against yours, making you feel his whole erection, warm and big against you.

“yes, please...” you begged.

“oh, sweetheart...” he swallowed, flustered. it had been so long since he'd last had sex, and now he had a beautiful, untouched woman in his lap, begging to be fucked. it felt like a goddamn dream. and he felt disgusting about it, but he was so turned on by the idea of taking your virginity. he felt like a hypocrite.

his hand slid down your ass cheek and under your nightgown. his fingers reached for your panties, his arm around your leg to touch you.

“you're so wet,” he murmured. he closed his eyes for a moment, the heat feeling a little overwhelming. “take off your nightgown, baby.”

obedient, you removed the garment slowly, remaining in his lap, your body covered only by your bra and panties. arthur exhaled, salivating, his gaze gliding over every inch of your exposed skin.

“you are exquisite,” he said to himself, almost as a reproach. he shouldn't have to be doing this. but he couldn't stop. he just couldn't. he began to unbutton his shirt. “can i see your tits?” he asked, rhetorically, since he knew that without complaint you would take off your bra. and so you did.

his lips and tongue immediately landed on the soft skin of your breasts, after having devoured you with his gaze for a few seconds. his lips left kisses, his tongue caressing and frolicking around your nipples. you moaned and stirred on his lap, immersed in pleasure and desperate for more.

he removed his shirt, and eagerly, unbuckled his belt.

“gonna get on top, it may hurt a little this way,” he whispered between kisses. you nodded, and let him grab you by the thighs, your arms around his neck as arthur changed position.

he laid you down gently, and his hands crawled up your thighs, spreading your legs. his eyes lowered to your crotch, the fabric of your underwear was visibly wet.

“darlin'... i'm not gonna last. haven't done this in a long time,” he said, his hands shaking a little, he was so horny he could barely think coherently.

“i-it's okay,” you murmured sheepishly.

he knelt between your legs, and placed soft, warm kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs, moving closer and closer to your center. he kissed your pussy over your underwear, and pressed his face to it, inhaling your scent.

“delicious,” he purred, closing his eyes, sucking and kissing over the fabric. his hands, big and strong, squeezed your flesh, eager to feel you. his right hand traveled down to your crotch, pushing aside the annoying material of your panties. “what a pretty little pussy,” he growled, and glued his mouth to it, licking between your warm wet lips, sucking on your clit, devouring you like a hungry man.

you moaned, your legs trembling. his hands pressed against your thighs, spreading them wider, and when his fingers left your panties, they again came between you and his touches.

“fuck,” he hissed in frustration, and roughly, he yanked them off you, sinking his face back between your legs, parting you wide and devouring you with both intensity and desperation.

“i'm going to put my fingers in, okay?” he warned, looking down at you, his beard wet with your juices, his cheeks red. you nodded, your gaze clouded with pleasure. his ring and middle finger teased your sensitive, dilated entrance. slowly he slid them inside, feeling the rough texture of your insides tightening around his thick digits. he moved them slowly inside you, curving and massaging your insides lovingly, while his tongue and lips fed on your juices and moans, sucking on your sensitive, sweet spot.

“you're so tight,” he gasped. he pulled away briefly, to pull down his pants. his cock sprung, flushed and swollen, eager for the delicious relief only you could bring him. “look how you got me, baby...” he whispered, wrapping his member in his left hand, squeezing it slowly. “how you get me, always.”

your pussy clenched around nothing, feeling emptier than ever. “please... arthur,” you whimpered. he looked at you, unsure, was he really doing this? you deserved better than this. something so much better than this.

but the urges in his body were too strong, they absolutely ruled him. he placed his cock against your center, gripping it firmly, and rubbing its tip between your lips, pressing lightly as it met your entrance, tiny but eager.

“darlin’... what the hell are we doing?” he said, sliding in just the tip, which was thick enough to make you whimper. “ow... baby.”

you felt so full. you looked down, and you could see his thick member, disappearing inside you. your pussy throbbed and squeezed him, unable to adjust to his size. he was huge.

before he got it all in, arthur had to pull it out a little. “you're too tight,” he let out a pitiful whimper. “i'm gonna cum.” he added with embarrassment.

he pulled out, taking a deep breath. he leaned down to kiss you. he kissed your lips lovingly. god, he'd been so rude, not kissing you all this time. he relished your lips, and you could feel the wetness of his beard against your chin and cheeks. he penetrated you again, and this time he entered you somewhat more easily.

“enjoy, sweetheart... just enjoy,” he whispered, watching your face contort in pleasure. he had to close his eyes, imagine the horses, the flowers, the bees, the smell of the barns, or he would cum right there, inside you. he pushed it all the way in, his tip pressing against your cervix. “does it hurt, honey?”

“no, no... i... it feels so good...” you moaned. you felt so full, his cock was so thick you felt like there wasn't an inch of you he wasn't touching right now. every little movement of his hips, pressing against yours as he nestled his face into your neck, made you shudder.

“fuck... yes, squeeze me like that,” he begged, closing his eyes tighter, starting to move his hips, his hands squeezing your thighs and pressing them against the bed, spreading you wide to penetrate you deeply. “thank you, thank you...” he gasped hoarsely.

your small hands clung to him, your nails sinking into the flesh of his back, his big, strong back, as his whole body enveloped and filled you.

one of his hands slipped between your bodies, and he began rubbing your clit, each thrust making his member bury itself deep and hard inside you, your tight body giving him no respite.

“please tell me you're close. i can't hold on much longer,” his voice sounded strained, cracked. the bed creaked beneath you, his hips slapping against your ass every time he bottomed out inside you.

“yes, yes, please don't stop,” you whimpered. his hot, sweaty skin clung to yours, the heat under the sheets thick. his smell, salty and masculine flooded your nostrils, and his cock filled you, again and again, your snug cunt squeezing, sucking him deeper and deeper inside.

your orgasm was intense. you trembled beneath him, your cries and mewls getting louder, and you writhed, your pussy milking him dry. arthur frowned in concentration, letting out soft grunts and whimpers as he moved within you. he came too, couldn't help it, his legs quivering as well. his thrusts became ragged and desperate, his eyes rolled back slightly as his cum filled you, hot and thick. "oh, god," he whined quietly. his strong arms hugged you closer, pressing you tighter to him as he left you completely full of him.

“d-darling,” he gasped, shuddering on top of you, his strokes slowing, until he stopped. his hands, scratchy from work and guns, slid over your sweaty skin and squeezed your breasts and hips, before holding you tight. “don't leave me, please.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

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Vampire!oscar with human girlfriend who wants him to feed from her

🤭🤭🤭

okay so this is at the top of my inbox but @biancathecool and i coincidentally had a conversation about this and here we are

warnings: blood drinking talked about (human and animal mentioned)

Oscar used to eat well. Before he met her, before he fell in love, he ate like, well, a king. He didn't care who he fed from, as long as he was eating well.

But then he fell for a human. He hadn't expected it, hadn't expected to want to do anything but feed from her once he met her. He'd pushed her hair to the side and had felt his teeth elongate.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't puncture her neck and feed from her. Most humans enjoyed it. It was a euphoric feeling, as they slowly drifted into an eternal sleep.

Oscar kissed her neck. He forced his teeth back and pressed his lips to her neck. She ended up in his bed that night.

Even after he had slept with her, Oscar didn't want to let her go. A human that made him not want to feed on humans? Why should Oscar want to let her go?

When they began dating, Oscar stopped feeding on people. He couldn't bring himself to do it, couldn't bring himself to harm someone. Not since he met her.

Animal blood didn't sustain him like human blood did. Oscar ignored the signs his body gave him, the signs of his body growing weaker. He used to be incredibly strong, incredibly fast, but not anymore.

She noticed this change in Oscar, and it was incredibly worrying. He hadn't told her what he was yet. But, when she cornered him, almost crying because she seriously thought he was dying, he told her. He revealed his teeth and let his eyes glow.

But still, something was wrong. He didn't tell her what was wrong, but she knew it was something.

And then she realised that she'd never seen him feed. Maybe he did. Maybe it was in secret, but she'd never seen it.

"Hungry, baby?" She asked one day as she sat down and moved her hair away from her neck.

Oscar couldn't hide the way his stomach growled. But still he said, "No, I'm fine," he said and kissed her cheek.

But then she climbed into his lap and stared at him, her expression stern. "Oscar, come on," she said, tilting her head to the side and exposing her neck to him. "I know you're hungry."

Oscar bowed his head, pressing it against his shoulder. "Starving," he replied, his voice gravelly. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay," she whispered as she ran her hands through his hair. "I trust you to stop."

Oscar lifted his head from her shoulder. His teeth slipped down and he pressed his lips to her neck, kissing softly. But then she felt his sharp teeth graze over her soft skin. A gasp left her lips and Oscar pulled away, but she shook her head. "Keep going."

Oscar sank his teeth into her flesh. "Shit," she cried, but it came out more like a whine. Oscar pulled his teeth away and licked her skin. A soft moan left her lips as Oscar began drinking from her. It really was a euphoric feeling, one she wouldn't mind feeling for the rest of her life.

Even when she began growing light headed, she didn't register it. It felt too damn good. It was only when her gasps few weak and her eyes began fluttering shut that Oscar pulled away.

He licked his teeth as he looked at her. Shit, he had gone too far. She looked so incredibly weak. "Oh fuck," he said, pulling her against his chest. "Fuck, I'm sorry," he gasped as she weakly lifted her hand to his face. "I didn't mean-"

"Shhhh-ut the fuck up," she mumbled. "I'm fine. I'm alive. And that was incredible."

But Oscar wouldn't be feeding from her again, not for a long time (no matter how much she loved it).

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lee-laurent · 23 days ago

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Pushing Through - Quinn Hughes

Summary: faye and quinn navigate parenthood

content: pregnancy, angst, fluff, family issues, mentions of sex but no explicit smut, arguments

wc: 15.3k

notes: part two of 'a love like no other' as requested by multiple people! i hope you all enjoy!!! (not proofread)

Faye sat on the edge of her bed, cradling a swaddled James in her arms. The lamp on the bedside table illuminated her tired face, her hair messy, and her body aching. Quinn stood awkwardly by the bassinet, watching her, unsure of what to do next.

"Do you want to sleep?" he asked quietly, stepping a bit closer. "I can hold him for a while."

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think I can. Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I'm going to miss something. That he's going to need me and I'll be asleep."

James shifted as much as he could in his swaddle, letting out a cry that sent a wave of panic through her. Faye immediately shushed him, rocking him slightly, trying to calm him down. The exhaustion was a lot, but the fear of not being there for her baby was worse.

Quinn sat next to her, rubbing her back gently. "You're doing great, Faye," he said softly, his hand warm on her shoulder. "He's just getting used to everything, too. This is his third night out of the womb. He's probably still confused. I'd be."

"I don't feel like I'm doing great," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I feel like I'm failing him already. What if... what if I can't do this, Quinn?"

He put his thumb on her chin, forcing her to face him. "You're not failing. You've been doing everything for him. He's healthy. He's here, Faye. We've got this."

Her eyes were full of doubt, but something in his voice reassured her. He was scared too, she could tell, but he was trying--for her, for James. That mattered more than anything.

"Why don't you let me try?" Quinn offered again, gesturing to James. "You can sleep for a bit, just an hour and I'll wake you up."

She hesitated before nodding, her body craving some rest, no matter how short. She carefully handed James over, her hands lingering for a second as Quinn took him.

Quinn looked down at his son, eyes wide with wonder. He rocked him gently, his hands almost comically large compared to the newborn. Faye watched them for a moment, feeling an emotion she couldn't quite name. Maybe it was relief. Maybe it was love. Exhausted, she lay down, her eyes closing as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When she blinked awake, Quinn was asleep next to her. He hadn't woken her up like he'd said, but she appreciated it. She needed sleep. She shifted and a damp feeling woke her up further. Her shirt was soaked, and she groaned softly, glancing down at the growing wet spot on the fabric of Quinn's Canucks t-shirt she'd stolen. The ache she felt was unmistakable--she was leaking.

Quietly, she sat up, not wanting to disturb Quinn, who was still fast asleep. She peeked at James in his bassinet next to the bed, peacefully sleeping after hours of restless crying and squirming. But she knew she couldn't wait.

With a quiet sigh, she picked him up, cradling him in her arms. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake. She leaned over to grab her nursing pillow, cringing when James whimpered. "I'm sorry, little man," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. "Time to eat."

She sat back against the headboard, lifting her shirt up, positioning James to nurse. He latched quickly, and Faye felt so relieved. There were times where he struggled, but he seemed to be working with her this time. His eyes were closed, peaceful and content as he ate.

Faye brushed the few strands of dark hair on his head, her eyes drifting to Quinn, who had shifted but was still fast asleep. The sight of him, his arm flung over his eyes, made her smile. He had been so helpful, and seeing him with James made her heart ache in a new way.

James finished feeding, and she carefully pulled him away, wiping a little milk from the corner of his mouth. She lifted him up, quickly burping him before he fell back asleep. "You full, buddy?" The night had been long, so she was praying he'd sleep for at least a couple more hours.

He squirmed, but after a couple minutes he settled, and she placed him back in his bed. When Faye finally climbed back into bed, her body was sore, and her eyelids were heavy. She lay down, listening to the breathing of her boys filling the air, she eyes started to close, and she whispered softly, "We're doing okay, James. We're doing okay."

The air in the apartment felt heavier than usual. It had been two weeks since James was born, and Quinn had to head back to hockey. Faye paced the kitchen, her fingers running through her greasy hair as she glanced at Quinn, who was zipping up his duffle bag. James slept peacefully in his bassinet, oblivious to how his parents were feeling.

"I don't know if I can do this, Quinn," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I've never been alone with him for this long. What if something happens?"

Quinn paused, crossing the room to her. "You're not alone, Faye. I'm a phone call away. Your mom is coming to help. My mom is always willing to help. You can do this."

Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as tears welled in her eyes. "But what if I mess up? What if I miss something? He needs so much, and I just--"

"You won't mess up." His voice was steady, but his eyes were misting too. "You've been doing everything since he was born, and you've been amazing. I've seen it." He took a deep breath, his voice faltering as he looked over at James. "And I don't want to go either. It's killing me to leave him."

Faye saw the first tear slip from Quinn's eye, and it broke something in her. She let out a sob, falling into his arms, and he held her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head.

"We'll make this work," he whispered, his voice cracking as he tried to keep it together for her. "I'll come back when I can. I'll FaceTime every night... I don't want to miss anything either, Faye."

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. "He's going to forget you."

Quinn shook his head, squeezing her hands. "He won't. He'll know who I am. I promise you, Faye."

For a few minutes, they stood in the kitchen, holding each other, the only sound being James' white noise machine. Finally, Quinn leaned down to kiss her forehead and walked over to James, who was still fast asleep. He bent down, wiping a tear from his own cheek before pressing a gentle kiss on his son's head.

"I love you, little Hughes. Dada will be back soon."

He straightened up, wiping his cheeks and grabbing his bag, hugging Faye one last time. "You've got this."

And then he was gone, the door closing with a soft click. Faye stood there, staring at the door while she cried, she wanted him to stay. But a part of her was finally believing that maybe, just maybe, she could do it.

1 month

Faye was hunched in the driver's seat, her back aching with every turn she took. James's cries filled the cramped space, louder than usual, as they pulled into the lot of the pediatrician's office. He hated the car. The only time he didn't cry when driving was if he was asleep. She parked and took a deep breath, squeezing the steering wheel to steady her hands. The pain in her chest, most physical and emotional, had been growing as rapidly as James's appetite.

She looked at him in the mirror attached to the headrest of his seat. His face was bright red, tears staining his chubby cheeks, his little fists clenched in frustration.

"It's okay, buddy. We're almost getting out," she whispered, her voice shaky. Her throat had that tight feeling she got when she was about to cry. Crying had become too frequent, and she was tired of it. Exhausted, actually.

She pulled James and his carrier out of the car, a sharp pain shooting through her back almost immediately. She winced, gritting her teeth. The pain was never ending--between the back pain from months of carrying him and the stabbing soreness in her boobs from endless nursing, it seemed like her body was rebelling against her. How did people do this?

Inside the clinic, she rocked James, hoping to soothe him before they got in to the see the doctor. Faye scanned the other moms in the room, all of whom seemed much more put together than she felt. They probably didn't Google every little thing like she did. She'd spent hours the previous night searching for ways to alleviate nursing pains. Articles about creams, different positions, and "healing times" flooded her search history, but nothing seemed to help.

She glanced at the time on her phone, seeing Quinn's missed text from an hour earlier, telling her about his insurance covering everything except a small co-pay for James' appointment. He called every night since going back to Vancouver, even during travel days. But it really wasn't the same. She missed him being there physically and as much as she wanted to tell him about how hard it had been, she couldn't bring herself to do it over FaceTime. Not when he already looked so sad every time James fussed or cried without him there to help.

James let out another wail, and Faye quickly stood up, bouncing him in her arms.

"We're almost done, baby. Mama promises," she whispered. He'd been feeding constantly the last few days, hitting a growth spurt that left him fussier than usual. The pediatrician said it was normal, but the combination of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and a gnawing anxiety in her gut had worn her thin.

The nurse finally called them back, and the examination felt like a blur. The doctor smiled, congratulating Faye on how well James was growing, how strong her was becoming.

"All those long feeding sessions are definitely paying off," the doctor commented, jotting down some notes. "You're doing an amazing job."

Faye forced a smile, nodding in agreement even as her mind screamed otherwise. She felt like she was barely holding it together. James squirmed as the doctor measured his length and weight, making a small squawk before falling silent.

"Everything looks good," the doctor continued, probably used to seeing delirious new moms. "Just make sure you start doing tummy time with him regularly. It'll help with his development."

"Tummy time," Faye repeated. "Right. We... We'll get on that."

The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the white noise machine on Faye's nighstand. James was finally asleep after hours of cluster-feeding. Faye sat against the headboard, her legs stretched out and a heating pad resting on her lower back. Every muscle in her body ached, and the pain in her chest had barely subsided. Even the act of nursing had become an ordeal, a reminder of how fragile her body still was.

Her phone buzzed, Quinn's contact photo lighting up the screen. She quickly answered, her tired face reflected in the small window in the corner. His eyes, though tired, lit up when he saw her.

"Hey, how'd the checkup go?" he asked, adjusting his position on his couch.

"It was fine," she replied. "He's doing great. He's growing so fast. They told me to start doing tummy time."

"That's great!" Quinn's voice was filled an enthusiasm that Faye wished she could share. "And you? How are you holding up?"

Faye hesitated. She didn't want to burden him, not with the pressure of work and being away from his son. But the truth sat in the back of her throat, burning. "It... It's a lot, Quinn. The feeding, the crying... I really just didn't expect it to be this hard. My back's killing me, and the nursing--" her voice cracked, "I've tried everything but it's still sore."

"I wish I could be there with you," he sighed. "I'm so sorry you're going through this alone."

"You're not gone, Quinn," she whispered, wiping a stray tear away. "You're here, just in a different way. You FaceTime every day. That's more than some people get."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're doing this alone, Faye. I'll come visit as soon as I can. And in two months, our family will be together in Vancouver."

"I know." She looked at James, flipping the camera so Quinn could see him too. "I just... I really don't want him to forget you."

"He won't. We'll make sure of it."

They spent the next half hour talking--about hockey, about James, about the little things they missed about each other. Quinn talked to James, pulling goofy faces even though the baby was fast asleep.

Faye couldn't help but cry as she watched. She couldn't help but feel like everything was falling through the cracks.

2 months

Faye was knelt on the floor, her phone propped up on a stack of books, capturing the perfect angle of James lying on his play mat. His legs kicked in the air, and his tiny fists waved in excitement as Faye set up for their morning FaceTime with Quinn.

"Hey, you two!" Quinn's voice was soft but excited. "How's my little guy doing today?"

"He's ready to show off," Faye said, a grin on her face as she angled the phone more toward James. "He's been lifting his head more during tummy time. Watch."

She gently flipped James onto his stomach, and within seconds, he lifted his head, his chubby cheeks wobbling as he tried to hold the position. Quinn let out a laugh, clapping his hands through the screen.

"Look at him! Strong like Dada," Quinn joked. "Man, I miss you guys so much."

Faye smiled, but she could hear the longing in his voice. James lifted his head again, and his eyes caught the phone, recognizing the sound of his dad's voice. His little mouth curled into a smile, wide and gummy.

"There it is! He's smiling at you," Faye laughed. "He's been doing that a lot lately. I think he's finally realizing we weren't trying to torture him by taking him out the womb."

"That's my boy," Quinn whispered. "You're getting so big."

As they continued to talk, Faye positioned James on his back, watching as he squirmed, trying to roll over. His movements here jerky, uncoordinated, but Faye knew it wouldn't be long before he'd finally manage.

"He's working on rolling," she explained. "He gets so close, then he just stops. But I think he'll get it soon."

They spent the next few minutes chatting while James babbled away, his little coos and gurgles filling the room, making Quinn laugh. "He's making more sounds now, too," Faye noted, adjusting James's onesie. "He doesn't cry as much anymore, thank God."

The routine had finally started to feel manageable. James had settled into a more predictable schedule. He woke around 6 each day, with five short naps throughout the day, and went to bed around 10pm. Faye cherished the moments during the morning and evening when she could actually think, when her whole focus wasn't on feeding and changing diapers.

Since starting to freeze her milk, things had become easier as well. She could give James a bottle at night, which gave her a break from the soreness. She'd learned to power through it though when she had to. It was for James after all.

It was around 11:30pm when James started stirring for his first nighttime feeding. Faye set down her book, grabbing the bottle next to her that she'd already warmed up. He drank slowly, grasping her shirt as his eyes fluttered shut.

After getting him back down, she scrolled through her messages with Quinn, admiring all the photos she'd sent of James. She swore he looked more and more like Quinn every day. She really couldn't wait to see Quinn again.

3 months

James lay on a blanket on the floor, his tiny fists clutching a bright yellow teething toy, occasionally letting out a giggle as he gnawed at it. His wide blue eyes followed Faye's every movement as she worked through organizing and packing all their belongings.

Her parents, who had come to help, were bustling around the room, thought their conversation had shifted to more serious territory.

"I just don't understand why you have to go so soon," her mom said, folding one of James's blankets and placing it in a box. "You have everything you need here. We're here. Your support system is here."

Faye froze mid-pack, her stomach twisting. She had been dreading this conversation from the moment her parents had arrived, and now that it was happening, she wasn't sure if she could deal with it.

"I've already explained it, Mom," Faye replied. "Quinn wants us to be with him. We've been doing this long-distance thing for three months, and it's hard. He wants to be there for James. In person."

Her father, who had kept quiet until then, cleared his throat. "But you're already doing so well here. You've settled into a routine, and with us around to help, you've got all the support you need."

Faye dropped the stack of board books, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. The exhaustion and the stress of moving hit her all at once, and she felt tears prick her eyes. "I'm not staying in Michigan. Quinn needs to be with his son. And I need to be with Quinn."

Her mom exchanged a glance with her dad. "We're just worried, sweetheart. You've already drained, and moving across the country with a three-month-old isn't easy. If things don't work out..."

"I know it's not easy. None of this has been easy, but staying here won't make it any better. Quinn and I want the best for James--together. He deserves to be a part of his child's life every day, and not just over the phone."

Her parents didn't press the issue further, but their disapproval hung heavy in the air. Faye took a deep breath, blinking away her tears. She crouched down next to James, who was contently chewing on his hand, oblivious to what was happening.

She smiled at him, brushing her fingers through his hair. "We're going to be okay. We have to be."

The flight had been long, and by the time Faye and James landed in Vancouver, she was completely drained. Quinn had met them at the airport, grinning from ear to ear as he scooped up James, pressing kisses all over his tiny face. After months of separation, they were finally together again.

They arrived at Quinn's place in the late afternoon, James asleep in his carseat as Quinn carried him up the stairs. The space was modern and clean--clearly the home of a bachelor who hadn't yet baby-proofed his life. But Faye didn't care. It was their home now.

Quinn set James down in his crib--a new addition to his bedroom--and turned to Faye, pulling her into his arms. She melted into the hug, the weight of the past few months melting away. For the first time in months, she felt herself relax.

"You made it," he whispered into her hair.

"We made it," she corrected, tilting her head to look up at him. "We're here."

Quinn smiled. "How's he doing?"

"He's good. Much more aware now. Lifting his head, grabbing anything within reach. You'll see for yourself tomorrow."

They spent the rest of the day unpacking essentials--diapers, bottles, baby clothes--while James slept, blissfully unaware of the major change to his life. Faye couldn't help but smile as she watched Quinn move around the apartment, organizing toys and blankets in his precise, methodical Quinn-way.

They sat on the couch, exhausted but happy. Faye leaned against Quinn, her hand on his knee as they talked quietly about routines and being a family together.

Quinn reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "I'm so glad you're here. I missed both of you so much."

"We missed you too. But we're here now. And we'll figure everything out."

"We will."

It was late, pushing midnight, and the only light on in the apartment was a bedside lamp. James was nursing in Faye's arms while she sat propped up against some pillows. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, her t-shirt stained with milk, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. Quinn lay beside her, his arms lazily draped over his chest, watching them both under the dim light.

As Faye moved James to swap sides, Quinn's voice broke the silence. "You know," he started, a smile tugging at his lips, "It's been exactly a year since that party."

Faye looked at him, blinking in confusion for a moment, clearly not connecting the dots. "What party?"

Quinn chuckled, rolling on his side to face her. "The one where we... created James."

"Ew. Don't say it like that," Faye's face flushed, and she let out a soft groan, rolling her eyes at him. "Oh, God. Don't remind me though."

But Quinn's smile didn't fade. His voice dropped to a quieter, more serious tone. "When I saw you at that party, I never imagined we'd end up here." He gestured toward James. "You, me... our son."

Faye swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were. She could feel the tension between them, and she shifted slightly under his gaze. "Yeah, I didn't exactly seeing this coming either."

His eyes lingered on her, a quiet admiration in his expression. "But I'm glad it did."

Faye wasn't sure what to say, so instead, she offered a small smile and turned back to James, who had finally finished eating. Quinn didn't push it, but he still watched as Faye burped the baby and set him back in his crib. Neither of them would say it out loud, but they knew something between them had shifted.

They lay there in the dark, side by side, as the tension slowly dissolved into their usual, comfortable vibe. But somewhere far in the back of Faye's mind, she wondered how long they were going to ignore what was clearly growing between them.

4 months

The lake house was Quinn's sanctuary--a place where he could let loose, hang out with Jack, Luke, and their friends, and forget about responsibilities. But this year was different. James was now four months old, and Faye had come along for the annual summer trip, bringing a sense of responsibility Quinn wasn't used to.

The weather was perfect, the sun glistening off the water, and laughter echoed from the dock where Jack, Luke, and their friends--Trevor, Cole, and Alex--were playing around, just like they always had. But Quinn wasn't out there with them, at least not in the way he wanted to be. Instead, he sat on the dock, not on edge but in the middle, as Faye had insisted. He had a wiggly James in his lap and Faye hovered nearby, her eyes flickering nervously between their baby and the group of people gathered at the water.

Faye couldn't shake the anxiety that she felt. The lake was beautiful, but there were so many people. James had never been exposed to that many people. It wasn't that she didn't trust Quinn's friends; she just felt so out of place. The constant noise and joking around so was different than the quiet routine she'd created with James.

Jack and Luke were in love with their nephew, constantly cooing at him, stealing him away for cuddles, or playing peek-a-boo to make him laugh. Even the other guys--especially Trevor--were coming up to Faye, asking to hold him or play with him. And while Faye knew they were just excited to see the baby, her nerves had her constantly on edge, afraid James would be overwhelmed.

As soonas the boys came out of the water, Trevor was bouncing James on his knee. Faye bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched. "Maybe it's time for his nap?" she suggested hesitantly, not trying to sound overly cautious.

Trevor grinned at her. "Nah, he's having fun! Right, little Hughes?"

Quinn, sensing Faye's anxiety, stood up from his spot, taking James from Trevor. "Yeah, maybe he does need a break," he shot Faye a reassuring look. "We'll be back in a bit."

They retreated into the air-conditioned living room. Faye sat on the couch, holding James close as she rocked him gently, still in overprotective mode. Quinn sat beside her, resting his hand on her back.

"You don't have to worry so much," he said softly, eyes flickering to look at his brothers through the window. "They love him. They'd never do anything to hurt him."

Faye sighed, looking down at James, who was eating his hand. "I know... I just... it's hard. I feel like I'm always on high alert."

"Faye, you're doing great. He's fine. He's more than fine. I think he's obsessed with Luke."

Faye nodded. She knew Quinn was right, but being there made her feel even more protective than she normally did. James had started to roll over and lift his head with ease, his giggles filling the house, and even though she loved watching him grow and interact with everyone, she felt like their perfect little bubble was about to pop.

Quinn glanced outside again, a conflicted expression on his face. He wanted to join his brothers, enjoy the lake like he always did, but things were different now. And though he loved James, he couldn't help but feel trapped in his new reality.

The lake was peaceful at night, but inside the house it was anything but. James's cries echoed through the halls. He had been fussy for days, barely able to sleep, a common sign of the dreaded four-month sleep regression. His routine had been completely upended, and Faye had spent countless nights pacing the floor with him, her body bgging for rest.

Faye sat up in bed, bouncing James gently in her arms as he wailed, his fists clenching and unclenching. Her eyes stung with tiredness, and every muscle in her body ached. Quinn, lying beside her, let out a heavy sigh, his patience wearing thin.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "I haven't slept in days."

Faye didn't look at him, focusing on calming her baby. "Welcome to my life," she said under her breath, though she didn't mean for it to come out so sharply.

Quinn sat up abruptly. "You're not the only one dealing with this, Faye. I've been trying too."

She looked over her shoulder, her exhaustion fueling her frustration. "You've been trying, Quinn? Really? Because all I've seen is you getting more and more frustrated with every cry. He's a baby--this is what babies do."

"I'm young, Faye. We're young. I wasn't supposed to--" He cut himself off, but the damage was done.

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

Quinn shook his head, clearly regretting his words. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?" Faye demanded. "Because it sounds like you're saying you don't want to be a dad."

I'm just saying... this isn't what I imagined my life would be like right now. I didn't plan on dealing with this--sleep regressions, constant crying..."

Faye stood up, clutching James tightly to her chest, tears spilling down her cheeks. "If that's how you really feel, then maybe we shouldn't be here." Her voice cracked, but her anger kept her moving. "Maybe we should go."

Quinn's eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. "Faye--wait, I didn't mean--"

But she didn't wait. She grabbed the diaper bag and stormed out of the room, heading down the stairs, her breath coming in shallow, painful gasps. James, still fussy, picked up on his mom's distress, his cries growing louder. Faye rushed to the car, buckling him in and driving away from the lake house, her hands shaking on the wheel.

Hours had passed before Faye returned. By the time she pulled into the driveway, the sun was rising and her anger had changed to a deep sadness. James had finally fallen asleep in the backseat, and Faye was feeling drained and hurt.

Quinn had called her countless times, his messages a mixture of apologies and pleas for her to come back. She hadn't answered any of them, but she knew she couldn't ignore him forever. She spotted Quinn standing on the front porch, his face pale and anxious, as she approached with James and his carrier in hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was stupid, Faye. I didn't mean it. I love James. I love doing this so much. I was just frustrated."

Faye didn't say anything, walking past him and into the house. She carefully laid James down in his crib and turned to face Quinn, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Don't you ever," she began, her voice low and firm, "make me feel like you don't want him. Like you don't want us. If you say anything like that again, Quinn... I won't come back."

He swallowed thickly, nodding. "I know. I'm sorry. I swear I'll never say anything like that ever again."

They stood in silence for a couple minutes, until Faye finally nodded, her shoulders sagging. She didn't fully forgive him, not yet, but she was willing to give him the time to make things right.

The tension from the argument still hung in the air, but things were slowly starting to feel normal again. Quinn spent as much time with James as possible, trying to make up for what he'd said. One afternoon, while Faye watched from the deck, Quinn lay on a blanket in the shade with James. He held him up, making airplane noises as James giggled, his tiny hands reaching out to touch Quinn's face.

"Who's the best little guy?" Quinn cooed, kissing James's cheeks and making him burst into more giggles. His blue eyes sparkled as he pulled his son close, holding him against his chest.

Faye wanted to be mad at Quinn, but it was hard when he looked at James with such love and pride.

Later that day, James was the centre of attention on the dock. Jack and Luke couldn't get enough of their nephew, constantly offering to hold him, while Trevor, Cole, and Alex took turns trying to make him laugh.

Trevor waved the bright toy in front of James's face, his goofy expressions earning a high-pitched squeal. "This kid is gonna be the funniest Hughes yet," Trevor said, grinning up at Faye.

"Look at him," Luke chimed in, leaning over to blow a raspberry on James's belly. "Coolest baby at the lake house."

Eventually Quinn had to take him away for bed, earning groans from all the guys. They all decided to head out to some party they'd heard was happening. When Quinn was done putting down James, he found Faye curled up near the fire pit, a baby monitor resting beside her.

"I know you're still mad," Quinn started. "But I'm really trying here, Faye. I want to be better--for you, for James."

She glanced at him, biting her lip as she considered his words. "I know you are. And I appreciate it. It's just... what you said, it really hurt. I don't want to ever feel like you regret this."

Quinn shook his head, reaching for her hand. She tugged it away and his expression fell. "I don't regret any of it. I was an idiot for saying that shit, Faye. I love James, even if I'm too damn stubborn to admit it sometimes."

She let out a soft sigh. As much as she wanted to be pissed with him, he made it really hard. She finally gave in, squeezing his hand. "I'm not saying I've completely forgiven you. But we're getting there."

"I'll keep trying."

Things weren't perfect by any means, but they were moving in the right direction.

The boat swayed gently, the hum of the motor the only sound on the calm lake. James sat on Faye's lap, his hands grabbing onto the front of his bright yellow life jacket, bringing it up to his mouth to chew on. His wide blue eyes peered out from under the little sun hat Faye had tied on him, his legs kicking in excitement as they cruised over the water.

Quinn sat at the steering wheel, sunglasses perched on his nose. He hadn't said much, just a few comments in his baby voice that always made James laugh. Faye could feel the weight of something unsaid hanging between them. But Quinn just stared out over the water, lost in thought.

Faye glanced at him, then back down to James, brushing her fingers gently over his chubby cheek. "He loves this," she murmured, watching their son bounce with excitement at each tiny wave they hit.

Quinn looked over his shoulder quickly before looking back at the water. "Yeah, he does," he agreed, his voice quieter than normal. There was a pause, a long stretch of silence where Faye wondered if he was going to say something else. And then, finally, he spoke, his tone serious.

"I've been thinking a lot," he stopped the boat, turning to look at James who was still gnawing at his life jacket. "About what I said. About how stupid it was."

Faye kept her eyes on James, unsure of how to respond.

Quinn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't ever want you to feel like I'm not in this--like I don't want to be here. With you. With him." His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. "I've never regretted him, Faye. Not for a second."

She nodded, holding James a little tighter.

"I was angry," he continued. "I'm not used to this, ya know? Not having all the freedom I used to have, especially here with all the guys. It used to be just us, messing around. But I was selfish. I didn't think about what you've been through--how hard it's been for you."

"Quinn..."

He held up a hand, shaking his head. "No, let me finish. I love James... and this family we've created. And I know I haven't said it enough, or made it clear. I'm all in, Faye. I'm sorry I made you think otherwise."

"Like I said... I don't want you to ever say anything like that again," Faye whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't... I can't do this alone. And if you ever make me feel like you don't want us... I'll move back to Michigan."

"I know. I swear to you, Faye. I'll never say anything like that again. I don't want to lose you or James."

James babbled as if he was giving his two cents, making Faye giggle quietly to herself.

"You're gonna have to make it up to both of us," she teased.

Quinn chuckled, the sound full of relief. "I will. Whatever it takes."

5 months

The setting sun filtered through the blinds in the living room where Faye was sat on the floor with James. He was fussy, gnawing on a teething ring while she bounced him on her lap, her anxiety mounting as the minutes ticked by.

"We don't have to go if you're not ready," Quinn said gently, coming up behind her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He was dressed in a nice button-up and some jeans, his hair neatly styled for the first time in weeks. "It's fine if you're too nervous."

Faye bit her lip, glancing down at James, who let out a whine as he chewed on the ring. "I've never left him alone, Quinn," she whispered, her voice strained. "He's teething. What if something happens? What if--"

"He'll be fine," Quinn assured her, crouching down and taking James's hand in his. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't trust her. Emily's got two kids, and she offered. They'll take care of him like he's their own."

Faye knew Emily was trustworthy--one of the other team moms, she's been nothing but friendly and supportive since Faye'd moved to Vancouver. But leaving James with anyone, especially a non-family member, felt overwhelming.

"What if he just cries the whole time? What if he doesn't sleep? What if--"

Quinn placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her head toward him. "Faye, he'll be okay. We'll only be gone a few hours. We deserve this."

She felt like she was going to puke, but she could see the excitement in Quinn's eyes. She had to admit, the idea of a real date, just the two of them, was tempting. After months of sleepless nights, teething struggles, and never-ending routines, she needed a break. And she could tell Quinn did too.

"Okay," she swallowed her fear. "But if anything happens--anything--we're coming right back."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Deal."

Faye thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest when they stepped inside Emily's house, her arms instinctively tightening around James. Emily greeted them warmly, her two kids--ages 6 and 8--rushing over to peek at the baby.

"He's so cute!" one of them exclaimed.

"Yeah, he's... he's a good baby. Just a little fussy because of his teeth."

Emily waved her hand, completely unfazed. "Oh, don't worry about that. We've got teethers, and the kids loving having babies around. We'll take good care of him, I promise."

After a few minutes of reassurances and very reluctant goodbyes, Quinn gently coaxed Faye out the door. She glanced back several times, but Emily's smile never wavered.

"He'll be okay," Quinn said again as they walked to the car.

Faye nodded, though she couldn't shake her nerves. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

The restaurant was intimate and elegant, the soft lighting and quiet music setting a romantic tone that felt miles away from their hectic lives as parents. Faye felt almost out of place in her dress, her hair done up for the first time in months.

Quinn smiled at her as they sat down, his eyes warm and full of affection. "You look beautiful."

Faye blushed. "Thanks. It's weird being here without him, though."

"I know," he reached across the table to take her hand. "But it's nice, too, isn't it? Just us."

Faye nodded. She hadn't realized how much she missed this--missed him. The constant demands of being new parents had consumed so much of their lives, she hadn't had the time or space to really focus on Quinn. But sitting there, seeing him all dressed up, she couldn't deny the attraction she felt.

They talked about everything as they ate--James, their future, how far they'd come in the last few months. Quinn made her laugh, telling her stories about his teammates and teasing her about how nervous she was leaving James with a babysitter.

She giggled, feeling a lightness she hadn't experienced in forever. "Okay. Maybe I was a... little over the top."

"You're a great mom, Faye. You worry because you care. But you're also allowed to relax."

She glanced down at her plate, her heart thumping as she realized something. She was falling for him. The thought hit her with a sudden, startling clarity. She never expected to feel like this about him when they first met. But there she was, realizing how much he really meant to her.

When they finally arrived back at Emily's house, Faye's nerves were back. She was thinking about everything that could've gone wrong while she was gone. But as soon as they stepped inside, her fears melted away.

James was fast asleep in Emily's arms, his face peaceful.

"He did great," Emily smiled. "Cried a little at first, but he calmed down after a bit. He's a sweetheart. Definitely has his dad's personality."

"Thank you," Faye sighed.

Quinn wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "See? He's fine."

"Yeah, he is."

As they headed home, Faye couldn't help but steal glances at Quinn. Maybe it was more than just co-parenting.

Faye stirred awake, surprised to hear the sounds of James cooing and giggling down the hallway. She blinked, her brain still foggy, then sat up, noticing the empty spot next to her in bed. Usually, James would be fussing by now and Quinn would still be asleep.

She padded into the living room, stopping at the doorway to take in the scene in front of her. Quinn was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out, holding James upright on his lap. James was all smiles, his fists wrapped around Quinn's fingers as Quinn bounced him gently.

"Look at you, buddy," Quinn murmured, his tone filled with pride. "You're getting so big. Almost ready to crawl, huh?"

James giggled, kicking excitedly. Quinn laughed too, his face lighting up in a way that Faye had never seen before. She stood there, quietly, watching, not wanting to interrupt.

A bottle sat on the coffee table, and it was clear Quinn had already fed James without waking her. Watching Quinn like that, so at ease with their son, was almost overwhelming.

"I didn't want to wake you," Quinn said softly, glancing up at her as if he'd sensed her presence. "Figured you could use the extra sleep."

"Looks like you've got things under control," she teased lightly, sitting beside them on the floor.

"Yeah, we've got our routine down, right, little man?"

James babbled happily, reaching up to grab Quinn's hair, and they both laughed. Faye leaned over, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. "You're getting really good at this, you know."

"I've got a pretty great teacher."

6 months

The sound of tiny wheels squeaking against the hardwood floor echoed through the apartment as James, nestled comfortably in his new sit-in walker, zoomed across the living room. He giggled as he kicked his legs, propelling himself toward the couch where Faye sat, laughing at her son's new found mobility. His chubby hand gripped the clip of his pacifier, his face lighting up every time he managed to turn himself in a new direction.

"Look at him go!" Quinn grinned, standing by the kitchen counter, watching James navigate his way through the room. "He's unstoppable."

James's mouth formed a toothless smile as he bumped into the couch, his feet scrambling to turn himself around. Faye leaned down, helping him redirect his little walker, her heart swelling as she watched him scoot away again, this time heading for the kitchen.

Quinn met him halfway, stopping the walker with his foot. "You coming to help Dada cook, buddy?" He leaned forward, kissing James's cheek and pulling a silly face, earning more giggles from his son.

There was something so beautifully simple about it--the three of them, together, in their cozy apartment. Quinn had become so at ease in his role as a dad, effortlessly balancing his time between the rink and home. The domesticity of it all was something Faye never imagined she would have with Quinn, but it felt so natural, so right.

"Think we should put up a speed limit sign in here?" Faye teased, raising an eyebrow as James headed towards the coffee table.

"Yeah, or maybe some baby traffic cones," Quinn laughed, grabbing James before he could knock into anything else.

James squirmed in his dad's arms, still eager to explore every inch of the apartment. Quinn kissed the top of his head, setting him down to continue his adventure. It was moments like that--watching Quinn and James together--that made Faye realize just how much her life had changed. And for the first time, in a long time, she wasn't scared of it.

Faye stood at the counter, carefully spooning a bit of soft rice cereal into a tiny bowl, her hands moving with nervous precision. James was sat in his high chair for the first time, his legs swinging beneath the tray, eyes wide as he watched his mom's every move. Today was a big day--his first taste of real food.

"He's going to love it," Quinn said from beside her, grabbing his phone off the counter. "I bet he's ready to dive right in."

They had done the research, talked to the pediatrician, and Quinn had been more than eager to introduce James to baby-led weaning. But now that it was actually happening, Faye felt a little uncertain. "What if he doesn't like it? Or what if he chokes?" she asked, glancing at Quinn.

"He won't choke. We've got this, and we'll go slow. He's going to have so much fun with this."

With a deep breath, Faye walked over to James, placing the small bowl in front of him. His little hands immediately reached for the spoon in his mom's hands, eager to grab whatever was in reach. Quinn knelt down, phone camera in hand, ready to capture every moment for their families.

"Here we go, bubba," Faye whispered as she scooped up a bit of the rice cereal and offered it to him.

James tried to grab the spoon again, but instead of trying to put it in his mouth, he smeared it on his hand. "Well... that's one way to start."

Quinn laughed, "Looks like we've got a future artist on our hands."

They spent the next few minutes encouraging James, offering him small tastes of the cereal, though most of it ended up on his face, hands, and the high chair. Every bite was like a new experience of James, who made loud smacking sounds and grunts as he demanded more food.

Later that evening, they tried mashed sweet potatoes. Quinn held a spoonful out to James, who immediately leaned towards it, though most of it fell out of his mouth. But this time, Faye saw his face light up as he tasted it. He definitely liked it more than the cereal. "You like that, don't you?"

James responded with a happy, gurgling sound, orange puree smeared across his lips.

"That's my boy," Quinn said. "Eating like a champ."

Faye exchanged a look with him, grinning as he wiped a stray bit of sweet potato from James's nose. There was a growing closeness that neither of them had fully admitted, but both were beginning to feel.

It was late, around 9, and the only sound in the apartment was the hum of the dishwasher. James had gone down easily after a long day of excitement, and Faye was curled up on the couch with a book while Quinn finished tidying up the kitchen. His eyes kept drifting over to her, the soft curve of her smile as she flipped through the pages of her novel.

He felt it then--like a weight settling on his chest. He was in love with her. Really, truly in love.

It wasn't just that he admired how good of a mother she was, or that they had built this life around James. It was the way she made their chaotic life feel... complete. The way she laughed, the way she challenged him, the way she looked at James like he was her entire world. Somewhere between the late-night feedings, baby giggles, and stolen moments of quiet, Quinn had fallen for her.

He wanted to say something, but every time he tried, the words caught in his throat. Was he supposed to? Was this the right time? He sighed, feeling the uncertainty. With a quick glance to make sure Faye was still absorbed in her book, Quinn slipped into the bedroom and dialed Jack's number.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Jack's voice was loud despite it being midnight where he was.

"I need your help," Quinn blurted out, his voice quiet. "It's about Faye."

There was a pause on the other end. "Wait--what kind of help? Are you in trouble?"

"No, no. Not like that." Quinn ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the room. "I think I'm in love with her, Jack. I know I'm in love with her. But I don't know how to tell her. Or if I even should."

"Whoa. Okay, first of all, that's awesome. But also, are you sure? Like... love, love?"

Quinn nodded, though Jack couldn't see him. "Yeah, man. I've never felt like this about anyone. Not even close. It's just... I don't wanna screw things up with her. Especially with James in the picture."

"Look, if you know you're in love with her, then you've gotta be honest. Don't hold it in until it's too late. She probably feels the same way, but even if she doesn't, you'll regret not telling her. You've already built something with her. Just be real."

"You're right. I don't know why I'm so nervous about this."

"Because it's real," Jack replied. "You care, that's why."

Quinn felt a sense of clarity wash over him. He didn't have all the answers, but he knew what he had to do. "Thanks, Jack. I'll figure it out."

He was in love with Faye, and somehow, that felt both terrifying and perfect all at once.

7 months

James was babbling, rolling around on the floor with a bright green baby spoon in hand. The window was cracked slightly, letting in the crisp September breeze. Faye watched James from her desk, her laptop open to a half-finished essay for one of her online classes. Juggling motherhood and trying to finish her degree had been hard, but she was finally starting to find a rhythm, learning how to balance everything with a bit more confidence.

James on the verge of crawling--he could prop himself up on all fours, rocking back and forth, but hadn't quite figured out how to move forward yet. Every time he did it, Faye would hold her breath, wondering if today would be the day. So far, though, he seemed content to sit back down and continue his rolling, chewing on toys as he went.

In the kitchen, Quinn was prepping breakfast--he had been squeezing in family time whenever he could, especially with preseaon training and media appearances taking up most of his days. Hockey season was fast approaching, and as much as he loved being at home with Faye and James, Quinn could feel the pressure building. His days were getting busier, and he hated missing moments with James, especially with how fast he was growing.

"I swear, he's gonna start crawling the second you leave for practice," Faye called over her shoulder, eyeing James as he rocked again. "He's getting closer every day."

Quinn chuckled as he set down two plates on the table. "Of course. But knowing him, he'll wait for the exact moment we're not looking."

James babbled in agreement, kicking his feet as if to emphasize his point. Both Quinn and Faye turned to look at him, laughing as he rolled onto his back and gave them a big, gummy smile.

Later that afternoon, after Quinn had left for practice, Faye sat on the floor, carefully spooning mashed carrots into James's mouth. He scrunched up his face at the unfamiliar taste, but after a few moments, he opened his mouth again, curious.

"Good job, baby," Faye cooed. James was eating more and more baby food, slowly transitioning away from breastfeeding--a shift that made Faye feel a bittersweet mix of emotions. Her plan had always been to stop breastfeeding around the 8-month mark, and with that deadline creeping closer, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of letting go of such a large part of their routine.

At the same time, though, she knew it was the right decision. James was growing, becoming more independent every day. She was proud of him, proud of how far they had come together, even if letting go of that last bit of babyhood felt daunting.

As James player with his spoon, Faye leaned back against the couch, glancing at her laptop on the coffee table. She was doing well with the school balance, using James's naptimes and the quiet moments after he went down for naps. It was hard work, but she liked the structure.

But even as she focused on her future, her mind drifted to Quinn. Over the past few months, she had really noticed the shift in how she felt about him. It was something deeper than co-parenting. Something that made her stomach flutter when he smiled at her, or when they got into bed after a long day.

She wasn't exactly sure when it happened, but she knew her feelings for him had changed. It was no longer just about James or being parents. It was about Quinn. She had fallen for him.

But for now, she kept it to herself, not ready to admit it. Not to Quinn, not even to herself really. There was too much at stake. And the last thing she wanted was to complicate the family dynamic they had created.

By the time Quinn got home, James was already in bed, his tiny snores filling the baby monitor on the coffee table. Faye was on the couch, scrolling through class notes while some medical drama played on the TV.

"You're up late," Quinn said, dropping his gym bag by the door.

"Just finishing up some homework. How was practice?" she smiled tiredly.

"Exhausting," he sighed, their legs brushing as he sat next to her. "I missed James, though. He almost crawl yet?"

"Not today. But you might want to cancel all your plans for tomorrow. I think he's planning something big."

Quinn chuckled, but Faye could hear the exhaustion in his voice. She turned to look at him, sweaty and tired, but still there for her and James.

"You're doing great," she said softly. "I know things are getting busy, but you're still here. You're still with us."

"Thanks, Faye."

8 months

Faye moved through the kitchen, preparing a bottle for James, while Quinn sat on the floor in the living room, watching their son as he crawled around, exploring every nook and cranny he could find. James was fast, his hands and knees carrying him across the floor with a newfound determination. Quinn couldn't take his eyes off him--each moment with James a reminder of how quickly his baby boy was growing up.

"You're fast, huh?" Quinn called out, grinning as James crawled back toward him, babbling away. "What're you trying to say, Baby Hughes?"

James stopped right in front of him, rocking back on his knees. His big blue eyes focused intently on his dad, and he raised his arms as if he was about to say something important. For a second, there was nothing but silence, and then...

"Dada."

Quinn's heart stopped.

He blinked, staring at James in shock, unsure if he'd really just heard what he thought he had. "Did... did you just say 'dada'?" Quinn whispered.

James giggled. "Dada!"

Quinn scooped him up into his arms, laughing with pure joy. "That's right, buddy! I'm Dada!" He pressed kisses to the top of James's head in disbelief.

Faye rushed into the room, a questioning look on her face. "What's going on?"

"He said it," Quinn beamed. "He said 'dada.'"

Faye's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as she knelt down beside them. "He did?! Oh my God, he said it?!"

James, delighted by all the attention, clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with himself. Faye leaned in, pressing kisses to his cheeks. It was just them, their family, in their own perfect little moment.

Faye stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the Canucks jersery she had put on James. The jersey was loose around him, but the back said it all--"Daddy" with Quinn's number 43 beneath it. It was a custom jersey that Quinn had ordered months ago, waiting for the perfect moment for James to wear it. And tonight was that night.

She knelt down, fitting James with his oversized baby headphones. The large, puffy protectors looked comically big on his head, but he didn't seem to mind them. His eyes were wide as she strapped him into the baby carrier, ready for his very first hockey game.

Faye was nervous. It was her first time sitting in the WAG section. She'd met some of them casually, but this was different. She stepping into a world as more than just the mother of Quinn's child.

The women greeted her warmly. A few of them fawning over James, who was peeking out from his carrier, taking in all the sights. "Oh my God! He's adorable!" one of them gushed, lightly touching his jersey. "And that jersey! So cute!"

Faye smiled, pulling him from his seat. "Yeah, Quinn had it made. First game day."

"You guys must be so excited," another chimed in. "You and Quinn must be like so happy right now."

"Oh, we're not... sorry, we are. We're so happy to have James here. Quinn is like the best to co-parent with."

There was a brief pause before the women exchanged surprised glances. "Really? I... wow, I just... the way he talks about you and James, it seemed like..."

Faye felt her cheeks flush, why had she said anything. "It's fine. We're not together... just working together to parent James."

As the game started, James's head bobbed back and forth, his eyes tracking all the things happening around him. Faye held him close, watching the game unfold below as the Canucks took the lead in the first period. She was surprised that the bright lights and noise weren't bothering James--he seemed enthralled if anything.

When Quinn skated onto the ice, Faye felt her heart swell with pride. She glanced down at James, who was happily chewing on his fist beneath his massive headphones. "There's Dada," she whispered, her lips brushing the top of his head. "Look at him go!"

At the end of the first, Quinn looked up towards the family suite, offering a small wave even though he couldn't quite make them out from so far. Faye waved back, but decided it was time to head out. James was starting to fuss and she didn't want to push him too hard. As they left the arena, Faye shot Quinn a text, telling him how proud they both were and how much James adored his first hockey game.

It would be the first of many.

James had officially entered the phase where everything within reach ended up in his mouth. From his toys to Quinn's dress shoes, nothing was safe from his curious hands. Faye and Quinn had been busy, crawling around the apartment on their hands and knees, checking for potential hazards and baby-proofing every corner. The cabinets were locked, electrical outlets covered, and sharp edges padded.

James, however, seemed unfazed by their efforts, determined to chew on anything that came his way.

"Looks like he's after your hockey stick," Faye teased, watching as James, equipped with a teething toy, crawled toward Quinn's gear bag by the door.

Quinn swooped in, scooping James up and giving him a playful toss in the air. "Nice try, buddy, but you're not getting your hands on that just yet."

James squealed his delight. He was becoming more independent in his play, spending longer stretches rolling around with his toys, but there was something about playing with Quinn that always brought out his loudest laughs. Quinn loved it too. Whenever he had a break from the rink, Faye could find them building block towers, playing peek-a-boo, or engaging in a game of chase around the baby-proofed living room.

That evening, after a long day of chasing James around the apartment, Faye had finally gotten him down for the night. She stood in the living room, picking up James's toys scattered around, lost in thought. It had become part of her nightly routine--cleaning up the remnants of their busy days, reflecting on how much had changed.

Quinn emerged from their bedroom, lingering by the doorway for a moment as he watched Faye tidy up. She didn't notice him right away, too focused on straightening up the apartment.

"Faye," he said softly, his voice cutting through the silence.

She jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence. "Hey. I thought you went to bed."

He moved toward her with a seriousness in his eyes she hadn't seen in a long time. "I've been thinking about something for a while... and I don't want to keep it to myself anymore."

"What is it?"

Quinn took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was stressed. "I'm in love with you," his voice was raw, vulnerable. "I know I've probably been in love with you for a while now, but I couldn't admit it--to myself or to you. But I can't keep pretending. I'm in love with you, Faye."

Faye froze, the words hanging in their air around them. She wasn't sure what to say. She had felt it too--the growing connection between them, the way her heart raced when he was around, the way he made her feel safe. But hearing him say it out loud, took her completely by surprise.

"Quinn..." she whispered. "I... I love you too."

The words had been spoken. There was no turning back.

Quinn's face softened and he stepped closer, gently cupping her face in his hands. Their eyes met, and the world around them seemed to fade. Slowly, he leaned in, and Faye closed the gap, their lips meeting in soft, meaningful kiss.

It wasn't rushed or uncertain. It was tender, full of all the things they had never said before. When they finally pulled apart, Faye looked up at him, love in her eyes.

"I've been wanting to say that for so long," he whispered, leaning his forehead agaisnt hers.

"Me too."

Everything felt right... more than right. It felt like the start of something new, something real, something they both knew had been there all along.

9 months

James was full of energy, pulling himself up to stand using the edge of the couch, his legs wobbly as he gripped the fabric. Faye stood nearby, ready to catch him if he lost his balance, but James's focus was elsewhere. He had become fascinated by music, especially when James and Faye sang to him. He loved it so much that he would start bouncing to the rhythm, his knees bending as he held onto the couch for support. Just as he was doing now, dancing to the music Faye had playing through the TV.

"Look at you, little dancer," she laughed, watching him bounce up and down, his face lighting up. His giggles joined the music, bounching with the melody.

Quinn, who had just come home from practice, leaned against the doorframe. "He's gonna be a musician at this rate," he joked, walking over to join them. Jame's eyes darted to his dad, his smile widening as he continued to dance.

"Dada! Dada!" he squealed.

As much as Faye and Quinn wanted to believe he knew what he was saying, the pediatrician had told them that James had yet to associate the word with Quinn. It was just the only word he could say, so he said it ALL the time.

Quinn bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of James's head. "That's right. I'm Dada."

Faye placed a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes onto the tray of James's high chair tray. His hands reached for the food, eager to explore the new texture. He picked up a "handful" and brought it to his mouth, smearing most of it across his face but managing to get some in his mouth. He eyes lit up, and he made a delighted sound, flapping his arms as if to sign for his approval.

"He loves it!" Faye smiled, wiping his cheeks with a warm washcloth.

"Well, we can add that to his list of favourites." Quinn leaned forward, placing a bit of steamed broccoli on the tray next. "Let's see how he feels about this."

James picked it up, his expression puzzled before he shoved it in his mouth. He made a face, spitting most of it out, but then grabbed another piece, curious enough to try it again. Quinn and Faye laughed at his determination to eat the broccoli that he didn't even seem to like.

As soon as James was "realeased" from his high chair, he crawled over to his stuffed rabbit. The toy had been gifted to him by Ellen and Jim when he was born. It had become his biggest comfort, going with him everything, especially when he was upset. Lately, he had become particularly attached to it, making "grabby hands" whenever he couldn't reach it.

"Where's your lovey?" Faye asked as James crawled toward the couch, reaching for the bunny. She handed it to him, watching as he clutched it to his chest, giving it a big hug. "There you go, bubba. All better."

Quinn, too, had noticed this new attachment, and without telling Faye, he had already ordered a second rabbit online. He didn't want to risk a meltdown if something ever happened to the original.

As they got ready for bed, a knock came at the door. It was a neighbour who was asking to see if they'd been having the same issue she was in their apartment. The moment she left, James who had been watching from the floor, waved his hand enthusiastically, repeating his new favourite trick.

"Are you saying 'bye-bye?'" Faye laughed. "You're such a smart boy."

Faye stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress for the tenth time. It had been months since she'd properly gone out. And now that she wasn't breastfeeding, the thought of drinks with the WAGs was tempting. But still, the nagging worry about leaving James tugged at her.

"You look amazing," Quinn said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You should go. It'll be good for you."

Faye met his eyes in the mirror, chewing on her bottom lip. "What if he needs me? I feel like he always knows when I'm leaving."

As if on cue, James, who had happily been playing on the floor, caught sight of her near the front door and immediately starting screeching, his arms outstretched in protest.

Faye groaned, turning to Quinn. "See?"

Quinn picked him up, bouncing him lightly in his arms. "I've got him. Go out, have fun. He's with me, and we'll be fine."

She hesitated, but the promise of a night with the girls, free from mom duties, was far too tempting. "Okay," she agreed, grabbing her purse. "But if anything happens--"

"I'll call you. Now go," he interrupted, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

It felt liberating to be out in the world again, without a diaper bag or baby wipes, just her and the girls.

"You made it!" one of the girls exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. "We were starting to think you'd never leave that adorable baby behind!"

Faye laughed, taking a sip of the cocktail someone had ordered for her. "I almost didn't. He screeched the second he saw me heading for the door."

"That's what they do," another girl said knowingly. "They always make you feel guilty, but trust me, Quinn's got this. He's great with James."

"Yeah, he really is the best."

A few of the girls exchanged knowing looks before one of them grinned, leaning in closer. "So, does that mean you two are, like, official now?"

Faye bit her lip, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Actually... yeah. We're official. Quinn's my boyfriend."

The table erupted into cheers, the girls hugging Faye and bombarding her with questions. They had all assumed for months that something was happening between Faye and Quinn, but hearing it confirmed had sent them into hysterics.

"You two are so cute together!"

"I knew it! He's like so in love with you!"

Faye blushed as the table toasted to her and Quinn. It felt good--really, really good--to finally say it out loud. Quinn was hers, and she was his.

When Faye got home, all the lights were off. She kicked off her heels, tiptoeing into the living room, and the sight made her heart melt. There, on the couch, were Quinn and James--both sound asleep. James was sprawled on Quinn's chest, his tiny fist clutching the fabric of Quinn's shirts, his lovey on the floor next to them.

Faye pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture, smiling as she set it as her new phone background, replacing the picture of her and a newborn James in the hospital.

Careful not to wake Quinn too suddenly, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we've gotta get him in his crib."

Quinn stirred, blinking groggily as he looked down at James. "Oh, right," he mumbled, carefully lifting their son into his arms.

Faye followed him into the office they had made into James's bedroom, the two of them working together to get him into bed. As they stood over the crib, watching James settle into sleep, Faye whispered, "I can't believe that we could create something so incredible."

Quinn wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Yeah, we did. I can't believe it either."

After moving across the hall to their room, Quinn spoke up again. "I missed you tonight."

"I missed you too. The girls were happy for us."

"Yeah?"

"They all assumed we were together already," Faye whispered, her breath catching as Quinn leaned in.

"Well, they're right now," his lips brushed hers.

"I love you."

"I love you too"

The house was quiet when Faye, Quinn, and James made their way downstairs on Christmas morning. The lights on the tree reflecting off the ornaments and setting the scene perfectly. Faye's parents were already in the living room, waiting with coffee in hand, their smiles warm but reserved. Faye hated the tension that was still there. Even though they had been kind and welcoming since their arrival, Faye knew deep down, that her parents hadn't fully come to terms with the path her life had taken.

Her father looked up from his tablet, offering a smile when he saw James. "Good morning, little buddy," his expression softening for his grandson.

Faye took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on James as she sat next to Quinn on the other sofa. They were trying to show her parents that things were working, that Quinn was a good day and an even better partner. But her parents' unspoken disapproval of the fact that Quinn had, in their eyes, "ruined" their' daughter's future was still there.

As Quinn moved James to his lap, helping him unwrap one of his gifts, Faye noticed her mom watching them with a furrowed brow. "He's getting so big."

Faye nodded, leaning over to pull a piece of wrapped paper from James's mouth. "He's growing fast."

"We've been trying to get him used to solid foods," Quinn chimed in, telling her parents about their grandson's latest milestone. "He's still not sure about broccoli, though."

Her parents chuckled slightly, but it felt forced. Quinn was trying so hard to prove himself, and she was just desperate for her parents to see what she saw--that he was a loving, attentive father and boyfriend.

And as the morning went on, the mood lightened. James, giggling and crawling around the room with his new toys, brought a warmth to everyone. Faye watched as her dad bent down to play with James, and for the first time that morning, she saw genuine joy in her father's eyes.

"Look at that," her mom whispered to her. "He's a little explorer, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is. Everyone always says he takes after Quinn."

"Well... isn't that something."

By early afternoon, the family of three had moved on to the Hughes household. Jack and Luke met them at the door, their faces lighting up when they saw James bundled up in his little snowsuit.

"There he is!" Jack called out, basically snatching the baby from Quinn as soon as they were inside. "Merry Christmas, Baby Hughes!"

James squealed in response, grabbing at Jack's hair in excitement. "Dada! Dada!"

"I'm not your Dada, silly," Jack laughed, tossing James into the air much to his delight.

Faye felt an ease that she hadn't felt at her own home. There was no unspoken judgement or grudges. Everyone was happy to be together. To spend their Christmas with people they loved.

"Look at him, all bundled! He's like a Quinn clone, huh?" Ellen said, pulling Faye into a hug, before turning to Quinn. "You two look happy."

"We are."

James spent the afternoon crawling around, pulling himself up on furniture, determined to keep up with his two favourite family members, Jack and Luke. Faye couldn't help but smile as Luke helped him stand, his hands steadying his nephew as he bounced up and down, giggling.

"Babababa!" James exclaimed, earning a nod from Luke.

"I couldn't agree more, James. You're so right."

"What're you two talking about?" Quinn asked, patting his youngest brother on the back.

"He was just telling me that he has the best dad ever."

"He really does," Faye agreed, scrunching her face as Quinn pressed a kiss to her nose.

"I love you," Quinn mouthed, pulling Faye onto his lap.

"I love you more," she whispered back.

"Impossible."

10 months

James babbled as he carefully pilied the colourful rings of his stacking toy on top of each other, only to knock them over and start again, squealing at the result.

"Getting pretty good at that," Quinn nodded, shooting a look to a half-awake Faye standing by the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, he loves those things," she said with a tired smile. James had become increasinly attached to her, to the point that she could barely move without him following close behind, ready to cry.

Faye took a deep breath, trying to mask her weariness. "He's such a mama's boy," she added with a chuckle, though it was clear the constant attention was getting to her. James's separation anxiety was growing stronger each day.

"He'll outgrow it," Quinn said softly. "It's a phase but I know it's hard."

"I can't even go to the bathroom without him losing his mind. I love that he's attached, but... I'm exhausted, Quinn. I feel like I can't get anything done around here."

James, as if sensing he wasn't the centre of attention, looked up from his toys and spotted Faye standing by the counter. His face scrunched up and he let out a loud wail, crocodile tears already streaming, he crawled to her as fast as he could.

She sighed, setting down her coffee and scooping up James, his cries softening the second he had a handful of her shirt. He clung to her like Velcro, his head resting on her shoulder.

"There we go, buddy," she whispered, kissing the top of his head. "Mama's here."

James had been extra clingy, refusing to play unlesss Faye was sitting next to him, but he seeemed content for now, crawling around with his Lovey.

Quinn sat on the floor, his legs stretched out as James crawled back and forth between him and Faye, occasionally stopping to blow kisses, something he'd recently mastered. He loved blowing kisses to anyone who would watch, his hand slapping against his mouth before sending the kiss off with a giggle.

"He's obsessed with you too," Faye laughed as James babbled to Quinn, still clutching his Lovey.

"He's obsessed with you more."

Suddenly, James crawled to the edge of the couch, pulling himself up. He stood there for a moment, wobbling slightly but steadying himself by holding onto the cushions. Faye and Quinn watched quietly, not wanting to break his concentration.

And then, in a moment that seemed to go in slow motion, James let go of the couch.

He stood there, swaying for a second, and then took one tiny step. Then another.

"Quinn, look!" Faye gasped, swatting at her boyfriend's leg. "He's walking!"

"James, bud, you're doing it!"

James took one more shaky step before falling onto his butt in a fit of giggles. Faye and Quinn burst into cheers, clapping for his first real steps.

Faye picked him up, smothering him in kisses as he babbled "mama. dada," between his giggles. He didn't know why they were so excited, but he was eating up the attention. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

"Growing up so fast."

"Too fast."

11 months

James toddled across the living room, his legs carrying him to his toy kitchen with a newfound confidence. He reached for a plastic pot, stirring it with a spoon, before grabbing a plastic carrot. Wobbling back over to Faye, who was seated on the couch with a cup of coffee, he proudly held it up for her to see.

"Mama, mo!" James said, grinning as he pushed the plastic carrot toward her, expecting her to "eat" it.

Faye laughed, leaning down to take a bite. "Mmm, delicious, bub!" James giggled, returning to his kitchen to give Lovey a taste as well.

"Looks like someone's been busy," Quinn crouched down next to James. "What're we cooking today, Chef Hughes?"

James held up the carrot again. "Dada! Mo?"

"More? Alright, I'll take some more," Quinn also took a pretend bite of the carrot.

James, seemingly satisfied with his parents' reactions, continued to "cook." Throwing things into the small pot that surely didn't go together. Some plastic spaghetti mixed with some plastic ice cream. He was experimenting with flavours, that was for sure.

The only downside of his confidence in walking was that it was even harder for Faye to escape him. His separation anxiety hadn't eased at all, it had gotten worse. He would cry if she dared to leave the room. Whether she was folding laundry, cooking dinner, or trying to take a shower, he was there waddling after her.

"I was thinking about taking James for a walk. You can take a bath, get ready for date night if you're still up for it."

"That sounds perfect. And I'm not missing date night for the world. God knows we need it."

Faye sat across from Quinn, sipping on some expensive wine he'd ordered for them. The conversation between them was flowly easily--telling stories from their university years, discussing James and how big he was getting, simply enjoying each other's company.

"I love when it's just us. Don't get me wrong, James is the best thing to ever happen to me, but... we never got to experience the regular dating stage."

Quinn smiled, "Me too. I like having a moment alone with you that isn't us getting ready to sleep."

Faye had fallen in love with Quinn slowly, over time, but moments like that made her realize how much their love had grown. He wasn't just the father of her child--he was everything.

As the night went on, they moved from the restaurant to a quiet bar. Quinn leaned in closer, his hand resting on her thigh, his voice dropping. "You're so beautiful."

"Thanks, Q. You're not too bad yourself."

His gaze shifted, his fingers brushing lightly over her exposed skin. "Let's get out of here."

12 months

The living room was decorated with soft blue and white balloons, streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a large banner that read Happy 1st Birthday, James! The coffee table held a neatly wrapped pile of gifts, and at the centre of the kitchen room table was James's smash cake--covered in light blue frosting with tiny white stars piped along the edges.

Faye was adjusting some last-minute details while Quinn brought James over to the guests. They had kept the party small, just a few of Quinn's teammates, their partners, and some of their kids. It was the perfect way to celebrate without overwhelming James with too many new people.

"Look at him," Quinn said, pride shining in his eyes as James toddled over to Brock with his Lovey in hand, showing it off to his dad's friends. "He's so big already."

"He really is," Faye replied. Watching James reach his first birthday felt surreal--it was hard to believe how much he'd grown over the past year, how he'd gone from a newborn to this curious, adventurous little boy.

James was in his element, giggling and chasing after some of the older kids, his legs carrying him as fast as they could. He had only recently starting running--well, running as much as he could--and even though he tumbled over constantly, he was always ready to bounce back up, laughing each time like it was all part of the fun.

"He's tough," Elias commented with a grin as they watched James take a small fall before pushing himself back to his feet, his face lighting up as he ran toward Quinn. "Guess that runs in the family."

Quinn chuckled, reaching down to pick him up. "Yeah, he's a little warrior."

When it was time for the cake, everyone gathered around, singing as Faye placed the cake in front of the birthday boy. His eyes widened at the sight of the blue frosting, and without hesitation, he plunged both hands into the cake, squishing it between his fingers before bringing a handful to his mouth.

The room erupted into laughter as James smeared the frosting across his cheeks and nose. He squealed happily, clapping his sticky hands together, making a mess as Faye and Quinn watched on proudly.

"He's having the time of his life," Faye laughed, snapping pictures of the moment while Quinn wiped a bit of frosting from James's dark curls.

"Not sure he's ever been this happy," Quinn added as he watched their son enjoy his first taste of birthday cake.

James, now fully engrossed in smashing the cake to pieces, occasionally grabbed a piece and offered it to Quinn and Faye, babbling happily as if inviting them to join him. Faye pretended to take a bite, saying "mmm" as she wiped more frosting from his hair.

Once he was all clean, James got to open his presents. They were mostly clothes but his favourite was a toy truck gifted by Brock. He wanted it out of the packaging as soon as he tore paper off, pointing at it and chanting "dada."

He was quick to run around the room with it, putting all his toys in the back of it, then dumping them out in a pile and starting again. Faye couldn't believe how confident he'd become around people he knew. He'd grown so much in 12 months.

"Can you believe he's already one?" Quinn asked, pulling Faye into his side.

"No... it feels like just yesterday we brough him home from the hospital."

"We've got a pretty amazing little boy, don't we?"

"We really do."

Faye stood in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and winding down for the night. But there was a nagging feeling in her brain, one that she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried. Something felt off. But she couldn't quite place it. The only other time she'd felt like that before was...

Was she pregnant?

She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but the thought was ever present. It felt impossible--she and Quinn hadn't even discussed having more kids yet. They were still trying to perfect their balance with James, and now that he'd just turned one, the idea of another baby was very overwhelming.

She dug through one of the drawers under the sink, trying to find the tests they'd bought just in case. Her hands were trembling as she unwrapped it. The wait felt like hours, though it was maybe four minutes, and when she finally glanced at the test, her heart sank.

She felt like she was right back where she'd been two years ago, staring at a positive test and trying to process the reality of an unplanned pregnancy. They hadn't talked about this. They hadn't planned for this. They were careful now. They used condoms every time they slept together.

She sat on the edge of the bathtub, her hands shaking. The piece of plastic fell to the floor with a clack. James was just now walking, they had just celebrated his first birthday, and the chaos of parenting had already left her feeling stretched thin. How were they supposed to manage two kids under two?

She felt the same emotions as the first time. The fear, the anxiety, and the excitement. But mostly, she was stressed. What would Quinn think? How would he react? They hadn't talked about having another baby, and she wasn't sure he was ready for this news.

For now, she'd keep it to herself. To process it, to figure how she felt before bringing Quinn into it. But maybe just like James... this was another unexpected gift in her life.

Faye and Quinn were getting ready for bed, the room softly lit by their bedside lamps. Faye was standing by their dresser, brushing her hair, her mind still trying to catch up with everything that had happened so far in March. James turning one, the party, finding out she was pregnant... what a whirlwind.

She gave Quinn some side-eye. He was being unusually quiet, his movements slow as he changed into his boxers. He had been fidgety all day, like something was weighing on him, and Faye couldn't help but wonder if he sensed her unease. She was still trying to figure out how to tell him, in fact, she was still working on processing it herself.

"Everything okay?"

Quinn looked over at her, taking a deep breath, clearly nervous. "Yeah," his voice was quieter than usual. "There's just... something I've been wanting to ask you."

Faye scrunched up her face in confusion as he walked over to his nightstand and pulled something from the drawer. Her heart skipped a beat when he saw the small velvet box in his hand, and suddenly, all her other thoughts melted away.

He took a shaky breath, standing in front of her, his fingers fidgeting with the box. "I know it's early," he began, "and maybe it's not the perfect moment, but... this family is everything to me. You and James--you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to wait any longer."

He opened the box, revealing a dainty, beautiful ring. "I love you, Faye. I love our life together, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

For a moment, Faye couldn't speak, the weight of his words hitting her like a truck. "Yes," she whispered, clearing her throat. "Of course, yes."

Quinn slipped the ring onto her finger before pulling her into a hug. It wasn't flashy or over-the-top, it was just them, in the quiet of their room, with the life they'd created. And it was perfect.

13 months

James had three words in his arsenal now: "mama," "dada," and his favourite "doggy." Anytime Faye or Quinn took him on a walk, he would eagerly point at every dog they passed, his little finger stretched out, shouting "doggy!" with a wide grin. He was utterly obsessed.

Faye loved how seriously he took his dog-spotting duties, pointing at each dog with the same amount of energy, as though it was the first time he'd ever seen one. He was so curious about the world around him and it brought Faye so much joy.

"Doggy!" James shouted, shoving his plush golden retriever in his mom's face.

"Yeah, that's your doggy."

He had also mastered the art of drinking from a cup--or at least, he was trying to. Every meal came with the thrill of watching James tip his little plastic cup back, usually spilling half the water on himself before getting a successful sip. But he was determined, even if the messes were endless. Strong-willed just like his dad.

But nothing got James as excited as he was when he saw Quinn on the TV. Anytime a game was on and Quinn's face appeared, James would point excitedly, bouncing in place. "Dada! Dada!" he shouted, over and over again, as if the more he said it, the closer Quinn would be to hearing it.

Faye sat beside him, giggling at how easily James recognized his dad, even through the screen. She leaned over, kissing his cheek. "You love watching Dada, don't you?"

"Dada!"

"Can you say 'go Dada'?"

"O Dada!"

"Good job! Go Dada!"

Quinn was sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. Faye had spent days going over how to tell him about the pregnancy. The positive test had been hidden away in her underwear drawer, as if that would keep it from being real.

He had been her rock since James was born, and now that they were officially engaged, she knew he'd be there for her. But this pregnancy wasn't planned again, and the shock of it had her feeling vulnerable, just like she had when she found out about James.

"Quinn, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Quinn looked up as soon as he heard the seriousness in her voice. He put his phone down, his face covered in concern. "What's wrong?"

Instinctively she placed a hand on her stomach, "I... I'm pregnant."

The air between them seemed to still. Quinn's eyes were wide, and he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, attempting to process what she was saying.

"You're... pregnant?" he repeated, his voice full of disbelief but not in a bad way--more of a he was trying to catch up kind of way.

"I know it's a shock. We didn't plan this, and I've been so scared to tell you because we haven't even talked about having another baby yet. I just... I don't know how we're going to handle this. I'm terrified."

Quinn stood frozen for another few seconds before he wrapped her into a bear hug, rocking them back and forth. "Faye... this is amazing."

"You're not upset?" she pulled away, looking at him with tears in her eyes.

"Upset? No. I'm not upset. I'm... I'm shocked, yeah. But I'm excited. We've made this beautiful little family together, and now we're adding to it. How could I bet upset about that?"

Faye's fear slowly dissipated as Quinn's words sank in. "I was so scared to tell you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't want you to feel like we weren't ready."

Quinn cupped her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs brushing away tears as they fell. "Faye, we're going to be okay. I know it wasn't planned, but that doesn't change how much I love you or how excited I am to add to our family. And this time, you won't go through it alone. I'll be here for everything. Every doctor's appointment, every late night--everything."

"I love you," she whispered, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words.

"I love you too. We're going to be okay, Faye. We've got this."

Faye knew that the pregnancy was going to be a challenge, but she'd have Quinn by her side this time. And that made it feel slightly less terrifying.

Quinn pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. "Our little family is growing... and I couldn't be happier."

"Who knew all of this could come from a college party."

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

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yooneunhay · 2 months ago

Text

Essence of the Feathered Heart

【ＣＨＡＰＴＥＲ　ＴＷＯ】

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; (eventually) ot8ateez x hybridbird!reader

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; human!seonghwa (ft; human!hongjoong, suprisehybrid!idol) x hybridbird!reader

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚; angst, a bit of fluff

-----

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐯

i had only been in this adoption center for a day. the staff tried to feed me but i refused. how could i eat with all that just happened to me? i was unwillingly dragged out of my home, put into an adoption center, and not to mention just a couple of hours ago before being dragged out my house, i was shot. the staff did help my wound and wrap my wing in bandages but they had to strap me down for it. even though i had hurt one of the staff in the process, she still was so kind to me. i couldn't understand it.

knock knock

i was sitting with my legs up to my chest and my head laying in my knees, leaning against the wall, when the kind staff lady knocked on my room door and walked in, closing the door behind her. she had a plate of food in her hand, i just watched her as she set the plate on the desk in the corner. the room i was in was a normal room, all white with a bed in the corner and a desk with a chair in the other corner. there was a big window in the front of the room where people could see in. like at a normal animal adoption center. then next to the big window was the door. there was also one more thing about the room. another window. much smaller than the first, with a curtain over it. the curtain was on my side but the first time i moved it, thinking it was a window to the outdoors, there was another curtain on the other side of the glass window.

"must be another room for hybrids.."

the staff lady came over to me. she bent down to my level on the floor. she reached her hand out, and pet me. she was petting the top of my head. i didn't feel anything towards it when she pet me. it's not like i'm a cat i'm not going to purr..but the action was nice, i felt relaxed.

"you're still hurt," she spoke "you need to eat something."

she smiled at me beofre getting up and leaving the room. i wasn't really all that hungry, it had been awhile since i last ate though. i got up after a few minutes of sitting on the floor next to the wall and went to the desk where the food was. i sat down and began to eat. i was almost down with my food when i heard a knocking noise. it wasn't from the door though. i turned around looking at the other wall where the smaller window was. on the other side was another person. a hybrid, smiling at me and waving.

"hi! i like your wings!" the other hybrid said.

my wings twitched at his compliment, and a slight smile spread across my face at seeing his bright smile. the kind of smile you can't help but find calming and heart fluttering. i left my food on the desk and walked slowly over the window with the hybrid on the other side.

"i'm Felix!" he said with a bright smile.

"Y/N" i said back.

he motioned for me to come closer to the window. i walked closer. i noticed his ears first, they were a pretty brown color with white spots on them. he had small antlers that were a big constrast from his beautiful white, almost angel like, hair. he seemed to be a deer hybrid. more specifically a sika deer. i for some reason felt the need to protect him. he seemed so pure..but he was an orange code, why?

"i like that name! how did you get here?" he asked.

"they found my home in the forest..if you don't mind me asking, why are you an orange code? you dont seem at all aggressive." i responded.

he paused and thought for a moment, as if he was deciding if he should tell me.

"my owner sent me here. gave me away. she said she didn't want me anymore.." his smiled faded a bit. "she told the staff i was aggressive so i was put here." he put his head down for a few seconds just to lift it back up and have his bright smile on his face again. "but that's fine! i wasn't the biggest fan of her anyway."

i felt bad. having a owner you think loves you, just for them to give you back to where they find you. i could relate to how im sure he was feeling when it all happened. it was similar to how my family treated me. they acted like they loved me when my grandpa was around, until he passed then they kicked me out.

"i'm sorry to hear that..Felix."

i felt like i should've given him a hug or some sort of comfort. the only thing i could do was give him a smile hoping that would cheer him up in some way.

knock knock

i turned towards the door as a staff member came in. it wasn't the nice lady so my other wing that wasn't bandaged immediately opened to make myself appear bigger as a sort of defense mechanism.

"calm down birdy, there's someone who wants to meet you."

------

𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

"are you still thinking about that hybrid?"

Hongjoong asked, snapping me out of my daze.

"you've been just staring at the t.v for 7 minutes.."

i looked over to him in the kitchen as he was washing the dishes. the truth is i was still thinking about that hybrid. i wanted to see them again, give them a better life. i think my feelings were clear on my face as Hongjoong stopped doing the dishes and came over to me at the table.

"Seonghwa, if you really think adopting this hybrid will help them, then you should go see them. try getting to know them. see if they would even want to be adopted."

Hongjoong grabbed my hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. all i could do was smile at him and nod slightly. how would the others react when they found out i was thinking of adopting another hybrid? Jongho is very possessive, i'm sure he wouldn't like it. Wooyoung likes meeting new people and hybrids but they're usually intimidated by his energy. San, even though he's the kindest hybrid ever, isn't the best at making friends. his larger frame tends to make others scared of him.

sigh

"maybe i should.." i said in response to Hongjoong. he smiled at me.

"i'll go prepare some food for you take." he said while getting up and walking back into the kitchen.

i couldn't help but smile at Hongjoong as he walked away. maybe i was thinking too much into it but sometimes i couldn't understand how i got so lucky to have such a amazing life with someone who loves me and hybrids who love me just the same. hopefully meeting this hybrid, they would be able to get that same love.

-----

hiii !! tysm for reading ! sorry seonghwas pov wasnt as long as the readers :(( i couldn't think of much for his pov ><

if u want to be on the tag list pls comment !!

===

TAGS; @astuteataraxy @newworldwritings

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

Text

Matilda- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo creds:@ave661^

Based on a request:

Ghost finding out his s/o has a bad family, who she doesn’t keep in contact with but talks shit about and is like. Pretty open about how fucking awful her past was? if it’s too much I get it but like- I used to love your angst posts :3 they were so yummy! --- F!Reader, 18+, angst, comfort, family issues/trauma, mentions of SA/rape, mentions of eating disorders, toxic!family, mentions of child abuse, so...trigger warning!! ---

A/N: this is me trauma dumping so I'm sorry if it isn't perfect

Simon knew, he knew well that you weren't so open to starting a family with him for reasons he knew best to respect. But, one day, without him even realising he asked the question, you sat down and told him the story your teary eyes held for so long. As he listened to you explain the stories, he noticed how he wasn't speaking to his wife but to the little girl, his wife once was. The one who was left in a cruel world to people who shouldn't have had kids. "So, they...abused you?" He carefully asked and when he noticed you pause, he knew the answer you didn't. "I...I don't think so," your soft words spoke.

Nothing about the way you were treated seemed especially alarming 'til now

"What I know is that they were mean, evil to me. I was a kid...how was I to know right from wrong so easily?" You held his hand, support you failed to have as a child. Then, you told him the story of a young R/N. "I don't remember the exact age, but I could've been 5 through 8. I was there, he took me to his room, I thought we were going to play and he said we would so would I have known, you know?" Your innocent voice spoke the fear he held. "I don't remember much of that day but in glimpses, if I look too deep, I can see his hands between my thighs, and how he...well...you know," you couldn't explain, it was like a knot in your throat prevented to cause your heart more harm. "And you didn't tell your parents?" His voice is soft. You shake your head, "No, I...as a kid, they never believed what I said," you chuckle out of coping with it all.

"There was one time when my older sister tried to suffocate me, I didn't do anything to deserve it, all I did was watch cartoons and she annoyed me but I knew best and didn't feed into what she wanted from me." You pause and wipe some tears away. Your gaze never fell on his, afraid to break down too easily if you stared at the man who became home to you so long ago. He was that, he was comfort and home and you knew that if you stole one glance, you would be sobbing the stories. Your hand held his tighter, he knew well it was for comfort. "She pressed the pillow tight on my head, I was sick and my stupid lungs couldn't take the fact I had pneumonia, so of course killing me would be easier," you chuckle again. His gaze never left your delicate face and even he had to admit he cried as you told him these stories.

After a long sigh and pause you continue, "I somehow pushed her off me and ran to my parent's room, knocked loud and when my dad opened the door I swore I finally felt safe until I didn't," You know he was ready to ask why but you just laid your head on his shoulder. Looking off into the distance you continued, "My sister told them I pushed her, told her that I hated her, which is not true because hate is strong and she is my sister," you shake your head. "I cried when they didn't believe me, and had a panic attack in their room. and when I backed into a corner as my mother and father yelled at me...that's when they took my sister to the hallway and my mother stayed with me, she tried to hug me but I didn't need none of that...not from her." His hand rubbed your arm, knowing what you needed from him. You wipe some tears away, your breathing hitches and he wraps both arms around you. "I didn't hurt her Simon, I swear I didn't but no one believes me, no one," you whisper the last part. "I know you didn't, my love," he kisses your head and continues to rub your arm.

"I believe you, I'll always believe you before anyone else," he reminds you. "I...my mother gave me water and sent me to my room, told me to just sleep it off," you stop and cry. "Oh my love," he whispers and carries you onto his lap. The pouty frown broke his heart more and more. The cosy home he and you made for the years of your life, warming up his belief that slowly, he will replace all those bad years. The fireplace radiates heat on the snowy winter day. "In this world, I'll always believe you, no matter what, okay, my love?" He looks down and you nod. "That's my girl," he says and places a blanket over you both. "Do you want to continue, my love?" He asks, rubbing your back with his warm touch.

"I do," your voice is small. It was best to open about this and then burn it and let the ashes fly away than to keep it locked in for eyes to see. "I...as I grew up, I knew I had no place in that house. My mother shamed me for my body, and so did everyone in my family." Your head nuzzling onto his chest like a cat finding comfort. "So, I starved myself to be the perfect daughter. I did try to be perfect, I tried to get an I love you, a simple smile or hug." He nods, understanding where you came from. "One time, my mother grabbed my stomach, she told me I was fat and looking back at how I was at that age, I...I was healthy, nothing was ever wrong with me, nothing," you repeat in a whisper.

After a long time of comfortable silence, you speak again. "As I grew older, they made me feel terrible about all of me, how I dressed, if I did my makeup, my hair, my body, the stretch marks that decorated my body, all of it and even I wasn't allowed to have one bad day, not one." He shook his head and in that instant, he understood why all those years of loving you, you always avoided starting a family conversation. You were afraid to be like them, to persist in a cycle of never-ending trauma. He knew you loved him, he knew how much you yearned to be a mum, to watch him and you become parents and do foolish things for and with your child.

"I never understood why I was so insecure over my thighs or why I hated when people touched them, but as I grew older and noticed that I was...you know... I..um.." You could never be admitted, never say you were raped as a child, not when you were scared to acknowledge it again. "I know love," he responds so you don't torture your heart anymore. "But...when I realised what happened to me, that's when it all hit me and there was a time in my young life that I knew I would never forget," you kept holding onto his torso. "It hadn't been long after what that...person...did to me when my mum and sisters pinned me to the ground, they knew then that I disliked people touching my thighs so they pinned me to the ground and touched them," you shake your head, trying to forget the moment. "They...th-they touched my body as I cried and begged for them to stop and not once did anyone stop or help me. My father walked by and he...he just laughed and kept walking...how...how can you do that?" You cried. "How can a parent do that? I was a kid, Simon...a child," you broke down.

"And don't get me started on why I felt like Christmas was just not a happy holiday anymore." Your mind went to a past Christmas, your family yelling, your father accused of his cheating, never denying, just lying and yelling at your mother. You hid in a closet, grabbed headphones and played music loudly. Hours passed and your mother saw fear within her eyes as she cried to you, why can he love me? she asked as she cried, you played strong. Your father drove away, leaving his family scared and cornered in a bathroom, crying as they listened to stories.

"My dad used to hit me, well, my entire family really," you confessed. His eyes widened, he knew they were bad, but not this bad. "My dad had a belt he used to hit me with, my mother and sisters used to watch. One time, they added more fuel to the fire as they told him more lies to get me into more trouble, part of me thinks they loved to watch me cry and get hit." You so innocently say, "When I was a kid and even as I grew older, my mum and dad would hit me and tell me they did it because they loved me." He shook his head, "Never...never in your life do you dare think that way. If I even dare to lift my hand at you, you leave me, my love. Because no matter how much you or I love the other, abuse doesn't equal love," he cups your face. You nod.

You learned one thing from Simon as he listened, that he was calm after the bad storm. He had his troubles, yes, but never would he be like them. He and you healed the other after all those years of a bad life you lived. You and him, sunshine to the other even in the darkest of the night. He has become light and a new beginning. Family. And as you admire the soul who can tell which smiles you are faking, you know that the little girl in you is finally safe. She has packed her dolls and sweater, moved to the countryside, grew up and fell in love with a man. A man who is home, a man who became the grown-up little R/N runs to when scared. For he is home, he is light and he is love. He is your man, your safe place and the one you find comfort in.

I don't believe that time will change your mind In other words I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go

"No more," he told you, you looked up at him in confusion. "No more?" you asked and he shook his head. "From this day on, you are not their blood, you are a Riley, you are R/N Riley and never will you be associated with them." He cupped your face. His tone was stern as he tried to make you listen to him. "They are not family, my love. They are strangers you lived with. And me...I am your family, we don't need another shit Christmas, we can...hm...we can have dinner here, or maybe get takeout and watch your favourite movies all day and night. Hey, who knows, maybe that Santa Clause man will come in the night as we sleep and hopefully you've been nice my love because I want him to bring you some good gifts," he chuckles as he cups your delicate face. You laugh a little, "Hey, look who's back, that cute laugh of yours my love," he kisses your lips and pulls you to him, closer than you already were.

You can start a family who will always show you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own

In this lifetime, you will learn many things and you will meet many people. Most of which will come and go. Those who stay, you may ask? Well, they become a family, maybe not a biological one but it's not blood that relates two strangers. It's memories, it's understanding, growing, living and loving. Family is him, family is the old lady or that professor you bonded with. Family is people who make you feel safe and at home. For if you are lucky, in this life you will find your Simon Riley. The person who wraps you in a warm blanket and loves you a little more when you hate the reflection in the mirror. And if you get even luckier, you will find that not only will it be Simon Riley who heals your old wounds and covers them in kisses and caresses. You will find yourself, maybe in ten years, getting covered in glitter, mud, and stickers and having the walls of your home drawn on by Simon's child. The love child that was created on a warm Christmas morning. The same one that wakes you up at six in the morning to go and see what the big red man brought them for Christmas.

And if you are lucky enough, you will find peace. The same one you looked for since age 5, the same one you cried for throughout the years. Maybe it won't come this year, but if you are patient enough, you will find it and when you do, appreciate it because you cried for it many moons ago.

You don't have to be sorry, no

A/N: the tears I shed as I wrote this made a river. Anyway, thank you for letting me dump years of trauma with this one, love you all <3

Tags:

@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @sans-chara @siwwayouu @allaboutirem0 @just3rowsing @mothcelestial @blankk3

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hyunluvbug · 5 months ago

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show me how to love I one - party time

pairing: hyunjin x afab reader

premise: all hyunjin is known for is hookups. he does not commit and would rather feed on lust. he has never been in love but his best friend, y/n, is in love with him. maybe he will someday want to be loved.

content: 🔞this series is NSFW so MDNI at all!!! some making out mentioned and grinding (in a party setting), drinking, brief mention of weed

a/n: i know its been a while but this has been in my drafts forever and is now seeing the light of day. i already have 4 parts full written, i anticipate 5 or 6 in the series so i hope u enjoy!

The floor vibrates from the loud music that fills the thick air. Smells of sweat, weed and beer litter the room. Among the smells is the loud conversations that filter throughout. Each conversation is barely comprehensible.

She takes a sip from her solo cup and feels the familiar liquor hit her throat. Was it worth it in the end to get drunk? Who knows but she couldn't wait to find out. This is her first drink, a drink her friend Han had given her. She wasn’t quite sure what it was.

She watches Han as he plays beer pong with a few of his other friends, Lee Know, Chan and Changbin. They were also her friends, friends she made all thanks to him.

She felt her stomach begin to rumble a little, starting to crave food. Her eyes scan the crowd around her. A few people are dancing amongst themselves, boys chugging down their drinks, couples making out but one couple in particular caught her eye. One of them was none other than her best friend, Hyunjin, which was no surprise. She feels her face warm up at the sight. He was sloppily kissing the girl who was grinding into his lap. His hands roam down her back and settle on her waist. He moves her hips in circular motions on top of him. She could practically hear her loud moans from here. A feeling in her chest made her look away. Her eyes instead land on the snack table filled with finger food. She puts her cup down and reminds herself to not pick it up again.

She makes her way to the snack table and stuffs her face with pretzels. The saltiness fills her tongue creating an explosion of flavor. She heard it was good to eat while drinking and right now she sure was hungry.

“Hey.”

She looks up and sees Seungmin, another boy who is a part of Han’s friend group. His eyes were glossed over and he was beginning to slur his words.

“Are you doing okay?”

The thing about Seungmin and to be fair all of Han’s friends is that they all looked after her. No matter the situation, at least one of them would be by her side.

“I’m alright. I think I’m a tad tipsy.” She replied, she was still putting pretzels between her lips. Her face was clearly flushed and her eyes were beginning to lose focus.

He pats her head lovingly, “Just be careful. Don’t forget to also drink some water, yeah?”

She nods back at him with a salute which makes him chuckle. Yep she is getting drunk.

“I’ll be over here.” he said pointing over to the couch filled with people. They were playing some video games on the big tv mounted on the wall.

Even when Seungmin is drunk he is still a sweetheart.

Han screams loudly in victory, her eyes look over to him. Him and Chan dance happily while Leeknow and Changbin accept defeat. She chuckles to herself at the sight. Han’s eyes make contact with hers and he gestures for her to come over.

She begins to walk and feels her legs wobble. Is this what being tipsy feels like? Very strange.

“We just beat their asses.” Han yells over the loud music that was now making people sing along. Chan picks up his beer and takes a big swig, wiping the dribble of beer off his chin.

Jeongin then walks over, his hand filled with a few more beers. “Who wants more?” He smiles widely. Lee Know and Changbin take one each from him, Jeongin passes the beer opener.

Jeongin then turned to her, “Want one?” Jeongin asked, still having one left over.

“Fuck it, why not?”

He opened the beer bottle for her and she put it to her lips. Was it disgusting? Absolutely. But, she needed some sort of stimulation tonight. The boys talked amongst themselves and she found herself searching the room. The corner where Hyunjin previously sat was now empty. She didn’t even have to guess where he was. Probably upstairs in some locked room. The mere thought made her feel less happy.

She sighed loudly and Lee Know looked at her. He knew what was up. They all did. It was pretty clear to all of them how she felt for him.

“Y/n.” Changbin said, catching her attention and knocking her from her head.

“This is your time to enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about him.” He places a hand on her shoulder, his fingertips were cold from the beer bottle in his hands.

She nods shyly, “Come on Y/n! We’re supposed to be having fun. Fuck college and studying, we’re finally done!” Han cheers loudly causing the rest of the party to cheer as well.

It was the end of their third year in college, only one more year and they would be finished. Time surely does fly past really quickly. She swore she was just starting college and next thing she knew, she was going to graduate in less than a year. It’s crazy.

“You’re right! Let’s do some shots or something!” She replied, a big smile coating her face.

“Did I hear shots?”

She turned around and both Seungmin and Felix stood behind her. Felix had a tray of shots on a plate.

“Damn how did you do that so fast?” Chan chuckles and grabs one of the shot cups.

“Well I was bringing them anyway, I guess it was perfect timing?” Felix says, a smile spreading across his lips. Everyone grabs a shot cup and clinks their cups together before shooting them down.

The burning liquor resonates in Y/n’s throat. Giving her a very nice buzz. She could tell her alcohol tolerance was not very high as she already felt the effects.

She began to walk unsteady through the room. Everything soon felt like a blur. All she could see was mirages of bodies moving past. She sat down on the couch in the corner, her friends danced in the middle of the room in front of her. The music filled her ears but it felt slow.

Something wet began to trickle down into her hands. It was water. She was crying. She felt her chest rise and fall quickly. Someone was mumbling. More tears came down into her hands creating a tiny pool.

“Hey.” No response.

“Y/n.”

She finally looks up and is met with his eyes.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His hands move up to her cheeks wiping away the tears.

“Hyunjin.”

#stray kids imagine #kpop imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #kpop #kpop x reader #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut

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litnerdwrites · 7 months ago

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Feyre betrayed Nesta in the worst way...

It's a common stance that many people, regardless of if they love or hate Nesta/Rhys/the IC, seem to have, but I don't think it is. Was Nesta complacent in keeping it from her since she found out? Yes. Was that wrong of her? Yes again. Was blurting it out the way that she did also not ideal, to put it mildly? Absolutely yes. But was it out of malice? No.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?' Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!' But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?' 'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.'

The idea that this was all said in malice just never sat right to me, and after scrolling through some comments on a video discussing the matter, the pieces finally clicked into place. First, let's talk about the hike, though.

Her breakdown after that hike wasn't a moment of catharsis and letting walls down. It was a weeks worth of exhaustion, dehydration and depression that resulted in Nesta giving in to the torture she was put through just to end it. It was a pivotal moment in the IC's efforts to break and then reconstruct her to their liking, or rather, to Feyre's liking. However, a vital stepping stone in reaching this point would be for them to gaslight and isolate her until she truly had no one. I mentioned before that I didn't think anyone in the NC would chose Nesta, and this is an example of why I believe that.

Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.'

Nesta is clearly upset and hurting and Feyre disregards that entierly, not even offering to discuss or find out why Nesta is hurt or feeling the way she is. Feyre didn't bother to try and understand Nesta before and she isn't bothering now. Either Feyre assumes she knows what Nesta is thinking/ feeling, or she just doesn't care. She dismisses her, telling her to go back to her prison, disregarding Nesta's choices, autonomy and opinions again.

If I recall right, it was Amren who informed Nesta that she was free to go where she wanted if she made it down the ten thousand steps. Feyre wouldn't order Amren, even to stand up for her sister, but happily go against Amren's own words to punish Nesta? Hypocrisy at it's finest.

All of this leads to one outcome: Nesta feeling trapped. Cornered and without a single ally in the whorld who would defend her properly. Isolated from anyone who'd be willing to treat her with decency, while believing she doesn't even deserve the basics of kindness. It leaves Nesta more prone to actually going through with committing suicide, since the behaviour of these people, mixed with her own self hatred, sets a precedent for how Nesta believe she'd be treated.

We see this when Nesta first meets Emerie, thinking to herself that 'the invitations would stop' when Emerie learned what nesta was really like. Or at least what Nesta perceived herself to be like.

Even though Nesta has Emerie and Gwyn, she has no reason to think, based on what brainwashing the IC has already done coupled with her self deprecating mindset, that they wouldn't side with the IC. This isn't to say Emerie and Gwyn are like the IC by any means. I think they're great friends to Nesta, and if that changes or not later on is more so up to SJM and her writing, rather than their characterisation. It's the reality that the IC have created for Nesta through abuse, gaslighting and borderline torture that's wound up feeding in to Nesta's already existing trauma and self worth that has lead to her becoming isolated this way.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?'

The comment on the video I saw explained that, while Nesta was angry when saying this, she wasn't trying to hurt Feyre or take her anger out on anyone. Nesta was angry because she wasn't told that she made a new trove. She was angry that these people had the audacity to vote on her life, and take bodily autonomy from her. She was angry that Feyre wasn't acknowledging or even trying to understand how Nesta was feeling. She was angry that she was treated like the bad guy- or more like a petulant child in this scene, I suppose- and had her feelings dismissed again.

Dismissed the way her mother/grandmother used to when she was trained. The way her father did when he refused to hunt. The way the Mortal Queens did when Nesta merely asked them to save her people. The way Feyre did when she asked for Nesta's help again, and again, and again during the war, only for it to never be enough in the eyes of other. The way that Elain did when she got upset at Nesta time and time again for how she handled her trauma or how she wasn't over her trauma or how Nesta tried to protect her. The way Cassian dismissed her feelings when he got mad at her for having an opinion of Rhysand.

Nesta was angry. She had every right to be angry. Most people would be angry, and alone, and if they already had suicidal thoughts like Nesta, having been abandoned by everybody while gaslit into thinking it was fine, and then only called upon to be used for the benefit of others while the snickered behind her back and dismissed her again.

As the commenter put it; She was trying to find someone who would relate to her anger. Nesta wanted an ally, someone who wouldn't leave her alone. Someone to be by her side and, perhaps subconsciously, thought that Feyre, who'd hunted for them and helped look after them for years, would chose Nesta's side.

The parallels between Nesta and Feyre's situation here are clear, and I think Nesta understood that when she said what she said. I think that Feyre believing Nesta said it to hurt her was a gross misunderstanding on her part, but it's not like she ever asked Nesta how she felt. Now that I think about it, for all that Feyre talks about Nesta feeling too much, and taking everything to heart, she never once confirms with Nesta. Never asks how Nesta feels.

Since coming to the Night Court, Nesta's feelings and traumas have been twisted and spoken about only in relation to how Feyre feels.

'Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends-my family- had to hear all about it?'

The intervention began, not because of Nesta doing something to risk hurting herself, but because Feyre was embarrassed and started crying into her breakfast.

'All of it pains me… It pains me that Nesta has become… this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other’s throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too.'

Cassian is pained, not because Nesta is suffering so greatly that she isolated herself for her own sisters (who didn't really act like sisters between the end of ACOWAR to... well now, so it's understandable), or because Nesta felt her only reprieve from her pain was in sex and alcohol, but because Feyre hurts over it. He knows Nesta does (but he doesn't know she hates fire? Or is uncomfortable at their social gatherings, since in ACOFS he somehow hoped she wouldn't take the bribe money and say she enjoyed their solstice party??? Because...Why?) But, of course, it's Feyre's feelings on the matter that are prioritised.

'Nesta is Nesta. She does what she wants, even if it kills her sister.'

Rhysand, not that I expect much from him, honestly, is utpse, not because he can't find a way to help Nesta. Not because his court is actively cruel to Nesta, hell, he joins in. Not because Nesta is in pain, in no small part because of him and his court. Not even because Nesta is spending his money. Because she's upsetting Feyre. Because, god forbid, Nesta have trauma and handle it in a way that doesn't make his wife happy.

Feyre tells others how she thinks Nesta feels, the others go with it, or just come to their own conclusions, not sure which is worse, but nobody stops to consider how she feels. Feyre feeling like Nesta said it to hurt her, I think, is simply proof that she doesn't understand Nesta.

Let me ask you, if you found out you were lied to in a way that affects your ability to make informed decisions regarding your own body, by someone you were supposed to trust, and who should've had your back, and that your own sibling has been betrayed by the same people in a very similar, if not identical way, and yet you're the one being turned into the bad guy, and dismissed, would that not make you feel isolated and frustrated?

It's understandable that Nesta tried, either consciously or subconsciously, feel less alone by appealing to common ground to find an ally. Nesta mentions at the end of ACOSF that she believes Feyre loved her from the start, and after those years in the cabin, I think Nesta sees Feyre as someone reliable.

This scene doesn't feels like Nesta trying to hurt Feyre. It feels like Nesta trying to reach out to the one person she could rely on; Feyre. Her mother was abusive, her father was a deadbeat, Elain was her ward, and the IC hate her.

'Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub, anymore. I have to use buckets.” I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging water…'

Amren tells Cassian to keep reaching out his hand, even though Nesta has reached out her own time and time again. Esspecially to Feyre, as she was the one Nesta relied on before. Possibly even the only person Nesta has ever relied on, and Fyre was the one she was trying to rely on now.

Nesta relied on Feyre, and needed to rely on her again. To have strength together, in a situation where they both lost their choices and autonomy to Rhysand and his (cause don't pretend it's even slightly Feyre's) IC.

It may have been wrong to say it in that way, at that time, under those circumstances, but this, to me, feels like Nesta's way of reaching out her own hand only to be misunderstood, punished, and dismissed again. And again. And again.

In a way, I think Feyre might have, unintentionally, betrayed Nesta in a worse way than Elain ever has. Elain was a ward. Almost like a child, to Nesta. They were never on equal footing. Moreover, Nesta was never punished if she upset Elain, no that she should be, or if Elain misunderstood her. Nesta never relied on Elain the way she relied on Feyre. She never trusted or had faith in Elain, the way she clearly trusted Feyre. She had thought she'd found an ally, with similar pain, in Feyre, in the moments she spilled the secret, but Feyre didn't care.

When I was reading the scene where Cassian told Feyre his idea to take Nesta on a punishment hike, she sounded all too gleeful when telling him how miserable Nesta would be. That, in my opinion, is the worst betrayal of all.

#anti ic #anti inner circle #pro nesta #anti rhysand #nesta deserves better #anti acosf #pro nesta archeron #anti amren #anti mor #anti feyre #anti cassian #anti morrigan #anti rhys

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littlest-w01f · 3 months ago

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Family

Rhysand x Evelyn (See Evelyn here)

For @officialrhysandweek

Rhysand Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 3: Loved one

Summary: Evelyn and Rhysand spend a moment together with their daughter

Cw: Family fluff, mentions of struggles after birth, breastfeeding, Rhysand's usual flirting

Evelyn giggled softly, bouncing her daughter on her hip, "Come on, Rhys, Let me have fun with our baby. You can take Nyx when I'm done."

Rhysand chuckled, watching her with Nyx, "Oh, you'll have plenty of time to play with our babe. I just need to sort out a few things real quick. I don't want to overwork yourself, you already tried your hand in cleaning the drawers and pulled on your stitches." He gave her a pointed glare, Evelyn sighed, knowing she had pushed herself too hard today, but she didn't want to be a couch potato after giving birth, and Madja had just released her from bed rest.

Evelyn was sitting next to Rhysand with Nyx on her lap. "Then I'll watch you." She said, giving him a kiss on his cheek, and he melted instantly.

Rhysand glanced up, unable to resist her smile or kiss. He smiled back, leaning to brush his lips against hers. "You should really rest up a little though, my love."

"I don't want to put her away for even a moment..." Evelyn sighed, looking at Nyx, she had given birth to her a week ago, it was quite a difficult birth given the babe's Illyrian wings but she was finally able to move around, and her body physically healed, even if she felt little spurts of pain every now and then. "She's so precious."

Evelyn gazed adoringly at Nyx, marvelling at how much she had grown in such a short time. The delicate wings, still folded against her back, were a testament to her Illyrian heritage, a part of both of them, a reminder of the powerful lineage he would one day inherit. As she cradled her close, Nyx's tiny fingers curled around her thumb, her bright violet eyes blinking slowly as she studied her surroundings.

Rhysand watched the tender scene unfold, his heart swelling with pride and affection. He reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from Evelyn's forehead. "She is indeed precious," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion. "And you did an incredible job bringing her into the world. We're both so lucky to have you."

With those words, he stood up, offering her a hand to assist her from the chair. Her body was still tender from childbirth, but the pain was manageable now, thanks to Madja's healing and the remedies of Day Court and Helion, who, out of the kindness of his heart, and totally not because he wanted some of Evelyn's chocolates, stayed with them both a few days before and after the birth, and giving Rhysand some healing teas for him to brew for Evelyn.

There had been so many people who'd wanted to be there for Evelyn, but in less than a day she had gotten too overwhelmed by the crowd that formed, leaving only Rhysand, Nyx and her in their home.

Evelyn took Rhysand's offered hand, allowing him to help her rise from the chair. As She stood, she couldn't help but wince slightly, the lingering soreness from the birthing process still present. Rhysand noticed her discomfort and immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, providing support and comfort.

"Are you alright, my flower?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern. "Perhaps you should sit back down and let me bring you some tea?"

Evelyn shook your head, determined not to let the residual pain slow her down. "No, no, I'm fine," She insisted, leaning into Rhysand's embrace. "I just want to spend every possible moment with Nyx right now. It feels like I blinked and she grew enough to fill my arms!"

Rhysand chuckled softly, understanding her sentiment completely. Evelyn closed her eyes softly, sinking into their shared bed with Rhysand, "I think I'll just feed her and then go to sleep... I'm getting light headed... I thought I could stay up longer."

Rhysand looked over at Nyx, who seemed to be starting to fuss in her arms, "I'll take her if you need to sleep. You'll need to get rest in where you can, especially how quickly you exhaust yourself."

"I... I want her... I want my babe, Rhys..." Evelyn eyes went wide, her lip tremblings, "Don't take her... Please."

Seeing her tears welling up, Rhysand felt a pang of guilt for sounding like he wanted her to leave Nyx. He knew how fiercely protective she was of her newborn child, with how she had been with Cyrus, and he didn't want to separate them if it made her uncomfortable. But at the same time, he also wanted to ensure Evelyn got the proper care and attention she needed during this vulnerable time.

"Alright, alright," he murmured gently, "I won't separate you two long, my precious. why don't you feed her and I'll burp her after, huh? I don't want you to get too exhaused."

Despite his reassurances, there was clear concern etched across Rhysand's face. He knew how hard it must be for her to part with Nyx, even for a brief moment, how her body and mind were not used to the physical loss of her.

Rhysand's words brought a small smile to her lips, appreciating his willingness to compromise. Evelyn nodded, settling back onto the pillows with Nyx cradled against her breast, already grabbing at her dress, she slipped out of the straps of her gown, pulling them down enough. As Evelyn began to nurse Nyx, Rhysand sat beside her, his large hand gently stroking her hair in soothing motions.

The intimate scene was peaceful, the only sounds being Nyx's contented suckling and Evelyn's soft whispers of love and reassurance with Rhysand gently stroking her side. It took a long half an hour, Nyx finished feeding, looking up at her with her big eyes that held so much innocence it made her heart clench, leaving her more than a little tired as she leaned into Rhysand.

Evelyn smiled as Nyx was done feeding and carefully handed her to Rhysand, "Ok... She's done... Now you burp her... I am napping."

Rhysand took Nyx with a soft smile and chuckled. "Yes, madam, whatever you say." He stood up and walked over to a chair beside the bed, gently placing Nyx on his shoulder. He began to pat her back, making sure to burp her.

Evelyn lay back down and pull the blankets over yourself, "Could you put her next to me after so I can cuddle her…?"

Rhysand smiled softly as Nyx happily burped, she was a very easy babe, which didn't mean they gave her any less attention or pampering, the babe only got fussy if she was hungry or dirty, or simply needed her mama, otherwise she was all smiles and curiocity. He then walked over to the bed and lay her down beside Evelyn, carefully adjusting the babe's blankets. "There we go, flower. You two stay comfortable." He leaned over Evelyn and kissed her forehead before standing up.

"Come back soon..." Evelyn whispered softly, curling around their son, letting her play with her fingers as she was babbling away, "What do you think she's talking about?"

Rhysand laughed softly as he looked down at Nyx, who seemed to still want both of their attention, talking in her own tongue. "I assume she's planning world domination. What else would she be thinking of?" He chuckled again before giving Nyx a last kiss on the head. "I'm going to do the dishes now. I won't be long." With that he turned around and walked out of the bedroom, reaching the door.

"Aww, does baby girl want to be High Queen like her mama?" Evelyn giggled, tickling her to make the infant giggle as well, emitting the same sound as her, "And look, the High Lord is going off to wash dishes, he's so domestic."

Rhysand laughed a little from outside the door since he hadn't gone too far from the entrance, turning back around. "Domestic my ass! I just know that you prefer me washing the dishes instead of you. You can't stand even washing one dish." He chuckled as he spoke, clearly being humorous.

"Ok, listen here, darling." Evelyn turned her head to look at him, a smirk on her face, Nyx still babbling, "I made and gave birth to your little mini you... So you move your behind and be a domestic mate... Also don't swear in front of the babe."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her words. "Oh yeah, because the babe will understand me perfectly, right after having sucked on your breast for the past half hour." The sarcasm was evident when he spoke, teasing her. "The only thing she's gonna be thinking about right now is how she could devour those breasts again..."

"Like father like daughter then?" Evelyn teased, making no attempts to hide her sarcasm.

Rhysand smirked, leaning against the side of the wall beside the bedroom door and crossing his arms while speaking. "Hey! I'm a gentlemale, I'll have you know. I don't want to devour you, I want to... savor you..."

He immediately stop himself from speaking and take a deep breath, trying to calm the dirty thoughts that immediately flitted through his head. "And I will. As soon as I finish the dishes. Just get yourself comfortable on the bed, I shouldn't be too long... Rest up, my love. I'll come cuddle you after."

"I want you..." Evelyn whispered enough for him to hear and he smiled. His voice filling her head, you'll have me forever, my precious flower.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Rhysand Taglist - @yeonalie}

{Blooming Flowers Taglist- @theskyisbrighthere @mybestfriendmademe @yeonalie}

{RhysandWeek Taglist - @andreperez11}

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ak319 · 12 days ago

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Heyy! Omg I love your Arthur Morgan series so much I’ve reread it so many times alr haha

Here’s an idea/request if your interested 🫶🏽 so this takes place right after part three and reader is getting sick of j doing chores all day and wants to study again to achieve her dreams so tries studying in secret and gets caught? Feel free to alter/add whatever u like 🫶🏽

💌TYSM Ritaa! *HUGGIES*, loved to hear that! Hope you enjoy reading this one too!

Warnings/ MDNI: not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions// I don't condone such behaviour

Wiping the sweat from your brow after chopping vegetables for Pearson, you decided to slip away for a moment’s rest and a quick drink of water. As you sat down, your mind raced through the endless list of chores left to tackle: sorting supplies, feeding the horses-

“(Y/n)! Get your ass here for a minute!”

A sigh escaped before you could stop it. What does he want now?

“Yes… Arthur?”

Without looking up from his journal, he handed you a shirt. “Button’s broken.”

Great. Again?.

“Right.” You mumbled, taking and inspecting it. Unluckily, your disinterest was too evident for him to miss.

Arthur’s gaze lifted from his journal, confusion mixing with mild irritation. “Right what? Fix it.”

“Do you... have to wear it today?”

“It doesn’t matter. Fix it. And wash it too.” He didn’t wait for your answer as you nodded, already bracing for yet another chore.

At this rate, my hands are going to look ancient by the time I’m 30 from all this washing.

You turned to leave, only for his voice to follow you. “Also, bring some coffee.”

“Arthur, don’t drink so much coffee all the time. It’s bad.”

From his cot, he glared, unamused. “What, you a doctor now? It’s only my second cup today.” Before you could respond, Dutch called him over, and he stood, striding off with a parting command, “It should be on the table when I get back.”

Grumbling, you turned to make the damn coffee.

He’ll get it, alright.

These were the times when you found yourself fervently wishing for your brother to get married just so you could be free from the burden of being his maid. But then again, would he even find a woman willing to endure a life like this? God, no, please, give him a wife. ASAP. But then again, you couldn’t help but pray for that unfortunate woman, too, because living here was no piece of cake. Do people even marry outlaws?

"...."

You shook your head and decided it was best to start on the coffee instead of rambling in your head.

⋆⋆⋆

Finally done with the day's work and free from Susan's watchful eye, you made your way to your tent and collapsed, face-first, into the pillow with a satisfied groan. You lay there, savoring the brief solitude, until a gentle throat-clearing sounded just outside your tent. The voice that followed caught you off guard. It was unmistakably Hosea’s soft, friendly tone.

You quickly composed yourself and stepped out to greet him.

"I wanna show you something. Come," he said with a smile, gesturing for you to follow. As he led you around the camp, you couldn't help but notice Arthur's horse was gone.

Thank God.

When you reached a quiet spot, he motioned for you to sit on an overturned crate beside him. "So, I gathered a few books here,” he said, a small stack beside him. “Annabelle mentioned you like reading, hm?"

"I--well..." Your voice faltered. How could you explain that after everything, your heart had shut itself off, wrapped tightly in a cocoon of cynicism? Arthur’s words echoed in your mind,

'Walking with empty dreams is useless. Lazy.'

The books felt like a window to something lost. They reminded you or maybe haunted you, of a past drenched in hope, of that rainy night when it all started to unravel.

"Well? Look, I'm gonna be honest with you," Hosea continued, his voice a comforting blend of seriousness and warmth. "You're a sharp girl, with a damn keen mind and a thirst for knowledge. So why waste your free time when you could read? I’ve got plenty of books you can borrow anytime you like."

You shifted, fiddling with your fingers. "No--I mean...thank you, really, but...it’s just..." The words caught in your throat, but you pushed on reluctantly. "Y'know...Arthur just...doesn’t… I don’t know how he’ll--"

"React?" Hosea let out a knowing chuckle. "Who says he has to know? Read when he's not around, it’s simple. And what’s his deal with you reading, anyway?"

"It’s not like he’s ever said anything specific, but..." You sighed. "I think he worries...that somehow the books will make me cling to the past. And honestly, what’s even the point of reading, really, when this is all I have to look forward to? Living here… forever."

"Now, don’t talk like that." Hosea’s tone softened, his eyes filled with an almost fatherly concern. "We all have different lives and paths, our thoughts and dreams that’ll shape our futures. And I’d like to see you have a life outside of all this, one with more than just survival, you hear me? You think I don’t want that for you? Sometimes I even think about it myself when Dutch is... well, being Dutch." He grinned, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the shared understanding.

"Also, don’t go thinking that being a girl can stop you," he added with a wink. "So… whaddaya say?" He waved the book enticingly in front of you, and any resistance you had left melted away.

"Sure. Thanks a lot, Hosea."

"No problem. And don’t you worry about Arthur, okay?" You nodded, cradling the book close as you slipped back to your tent. The weight of its worn pages in your hands felt like a secret gift. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

⋆⋆⋆

It was just another day when you finished your chores and when you were sure Arthur had gone hunting, you settled into a secluded spot on the edge of the camp, your book propped on your lap, and lost yourself in the words, the outside world fading away.

That is, until someone snatched the book from your hands.

"Hey!" you shouted, startled.

"What’s this, oh, these damn boring books!" John, who was a year younger than you and had a knack for finding you when you least wanted to be found, held the book out of reach with a mischievous grin.

"Can’t you just play with me instead sometimes? I swear I’m so bored these days!" His voice was grating, and you could feel your irritation rising.

You lunged forward to snatch the book back, but he leapt backwards, a teasing spark in his eyes.

“John! This isn’t funny! I’m not free like you all day, alright? I do actual work around here, not out there trying to shoot a rabbit and missing every time, and now I’m relaxing, so stop being a jerk! Hosea would be mad if he found out you messed with his book!”

“Of course, the oldie is your tutor,” he laughed, clearly unfazed. “How about we do something that makes both of us happy? I get to play, and you get your book back.”

Gritting your teeth, you feigned a serious demeanor. With a quick breath, you lunged at him again, your frustration bubbling over. John’s playful stance told you he was ready for a chase, and before you knew it, you were darting after him, laughter bubbling up despite your annoyance.

As much as you wanted to giggle and enjoy the thrill of the moment, there was a lingering fear at the back of your mind, what if Arthur returned early? The last thing you wanted was to be caught in a childish game when he expected you to be responsible.

"JOHN! COME BACK! DON’T GO TOO FAR!" you shouted, but he ignored you, running toward the small lake that fringed the camp. You had no choice but to follow him, anxiety bubbling up inside you, not just from the chase, but from the thought of losing that book. It wasn’t just some random novel, it belonged to Hosea, and you couldn’t let him down.

“Here, take it!” John taunted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he threw the book into the lake.

“JOHN, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”, your frustration boiling over as you watched the book sink beneath the surface.

“GO GET IT! HURRY!” You shouted, while John stood reveling in his victory.

“I don’t know how to swim!” He shot back.

“FUCK YOU!” But you knew you couldn’t let Hosea down. You couldn’t let that book be lost.

With a determined breath, you dove into the lake, plunging into the cold water. Your heart raced as you fought against the initial shock, remembering the few basics your dad had taught you when you were ten. You focused on the glimmering book sinking just out of reach and swam deeper, stretching your fingers to grab it. That's when John realized that maybe he went too far and kept calling your name.

Finally, you managed to wrap your hand around the damp cover. Kicking off the bottom, you propelled yourself upward, gasping for air as you broke the surface, the book clutched tightly to your chest.

"(Y/N)...I am sorry..." He stammered when he saw the look of absolute rage on your face. He knew he was going to be dead if he got in your hands.

The moment John took off toward camp, you bolted after him, fury blazing in your chest. He’s going to pay for this, you clutched the soaked book tightly in one hand and narrowed the gap between you. You could hear his frantic apologies as he dodged between trees and crates, but you weren’t letting him off so easily. This time, he had gone too far.

As the camp came into view, you spotted Arthur’s towering figure near the fire. He was leaning against a post, arms crossed, a dark look already on his face as his eyes landed on John racing toward him with you close behind.

“Oh, shit…�� you murmured under your breath, your heart pounding even faster. You slowed your pace, watching as Arthur’s expression shifted from mild irritation to intense, unfiltered anger. John stopped short, nearly tripping over himself as he came to a halt in front of Arthur, his face pale.

“Arthur--uh-- I was just--we....” Arthur cut him off, his voice low and deadly calm. "What? Messin’ around, huh?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, shifting to you, drenched and clutching the wet book. His voice dropped into a growl. He directed a sharp glare at John. “Looks like more’n that to me.

John’s face drained of colour. “Um-we were just--playin'” he started backing away under Arthur’s icy stare, but Arthur grabbed him by his ear and pulled him closer, making John let out a burning wince.

“Listen here, you little idiot,” Arthur snapped, taking a step closer until John practically shrank under his gaze. “You ever pull somethin’ like this again, you’re gonna find yourself missin’ a few teeth, you understand me? Stay away from her.”

John nodded frantically, too scared to speak, and when Arthur jerked his head in a silent order to leave, John took off like his life depended on it.

Arthur’s eyes turned to you, his face darkening. His gaze swept over your soaked clothes, the way you clutched the dripping book like it was something precious, and his jaw clenched.

“Care to explain why you’re drenched head to toe?” he asked, his voice low but laced with irritation.

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “I…just wanted to get the book back.”

Arthur raised a brow, unimpressed. “And what the hell were you doin’ with it in the first place?”

You stammered, caught off guard, and Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, grabbing your arm firmly, pulling you closer. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sneakin’ around to read like a fuckin princess,” he muttered, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief. “That why you’re makin’ trouble?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already fuming. Before you could get a word out, his grip tightened, and he gave you a hard, reprimanding shake. “You think jumpin’ in the damn lake’s a smart idea? Riskin’ yourself over some dumb book!? Are you fucking serious?”

“Arthur, it’s not-” you tried to explain, but he cut you off with a sharp slap across the cheek, the force of it blurring your mind for a few seconds, sending a shock through your whole body. You touch your cheek, trying to keep the hurt off your face and shield yourself from another one.

“You’re makin’ my life harder with this reckless nonsense, thought' I made it clear that there ain’t no use for fillin’ your head with fantasies out here. You need to learn what’s important here. Don’t forget your place. Also told you to not wander off! There are all sorts of dangers out there!”

Your voice was broken but you still managed to retort, "It's...not just fantasies...why can't you get it-" He threw the book from your hands, irked.

“Watch it,” he snarled, gripping your chin with bruising force, his face close, dark eyes simmering with anger. “You think I got time for this nonsense? Next time you got free time, you spend it doin' somethin’ useful, not messin’ around in places you don’t belong.”

But before he could go any further, Hosea’s voice sliced through the tension like a whip. “Arthur! Enough!” Hosea’s tone was sharp, urgent, as he stepped forward, grabbing Arthur’s arm and prying him back. “Have you lost your damn mind? Let her be!”

Arthur jerked back, breathing heavily as he let go, his jaw tight with frustration. He shot you a look that still held that smouldering fury but kept silent under Hosea’s watchful gaze. The older man placed a protective hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him, his face set in a firm, disappointed scowl as he looked at Arthur.

“This isn’t how we treat our own,” Hosea said quietly, the warning clear in his voice.

"I will treat her however I want, so shut it, old man! She jumped in the fucking lake for a damn book!" He turned back to you. "If I ever catch you slackin’ off with one of these again, or doin' such stupid stunts, there’ll be hell to pay. You hear me?" You nod quickly, too scared to even meet his gaze, swallowing back any retort.

He muttered under his breath and turned sharply, stalking off into the woods, leaving you standing there, shaken but grateful for Hosea’s intervention.

“You alright?” Hosea’s voice softened, his eyes filled with concern as he watched Arthur disappear.

Though your throat felt tight, you nodded as your hands still clung to his coat. “Hm.”

“Don’t let him get to you, you do a lot more around here anyway, more than anyone I would say,” he murmured. “He...he's just afraid. But you...don't have to be."

You tried to smile through your tears, though the sting of Arthur’s slap still lingered, and you knew it would for days to come.

Hosea gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder, noticing the way your gaze lingered on the soaked book. “I see the book’s wet, but it’s alright. There are plenty. I’ll buy this one again for you.” His tone was warm, reassuring. “Now, go change before you get sick.”

You managed a small nod, before hurrying to the privacy of your tent. As soon as you stepped inside, the weight of the day finally crashed down on you. You sank onto the cot, clutching the damp fabric of your clothes, and let the tears fall, the frustration and anger pouring out in muffled sobs.

Everything, Arthur’s fury, John’s reckless prank, the guilt over Hosea’s book, hit you all at once. The tent felt like the only safe space at that moment, the only place where you didn’t have to hold back. Perhaps, it's better if you don't read, maybe Arthur is right...but Hosea's hopeful words rang in your mind. You buried your face in the pillow, letting out everything, all the confusion, anger and pain that was clawing you from inside, draining yourself.

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siswritesyanderes · 2 years ago

Note

Question for you!😁 Which Yandere marvel characters do you think would want/make their darling age regress? Because I see a lot of Yanderes who would want them to depend on them but which characters (even if it varies from era to era) would take it a step further. Even just to treat their darling like a teenager, I think a lot of them would and I’m curious who all you think would most likely? I love your writing and I hope you have a great day!

It's funny you should mention this, because I was recently imagining a situation where a lot of Marvel heroes (and maybe non-heroes) have a get-together and bring their age-regressed, abducted darlings. Like a party of the forced agere yanderes.

(This is outside the canon of "Safe Because I'm With the Apex Predator.")

Druig and Makkari's darling is by far the best-behaved; everyone compliments them on how well-behaved their darling is. Dressed in brightly-colored overalls and knee socks, their hair is neat (which can't be said for a lot of the darlings; they get unkempt when they physically struggle), they greet the other yanderes with a smile when asked, and they say "Yes, Daddy," and "Yes, Mommy," and the like, every time they speak to Druig and Makkari. They don't use any words that a seven-year-old couldn't.

It's clear from the look in the darling's eyes that they haven't caved under the mental stress of their abduction; there's still an awareness there. Occasionally even hostility. But they behave themself, because if they didn't do so by choice, Druig would just make them anyway. So many of the yanderes are lowkey jealous, not just of this darling's good behavior, but of the general vibe of mutual understanding that exists between them and Drukkari. When all the other darlings are going to a "play room", so the "grown ups" can talk in private, this darling calmly asks, "Mommy, can I bring my food with me?"

Makkari answers, "Yes," and kisses them on the forehead before they go.

Meanwhile, Thena and Gilgamesh's darling is absolutely feral. (Or, as one of the other yanderes politely says, "very rambunctious!") Darling's on a leash, and Darling's trying to chew through the leash. They're dressed in a form-fitting toddler onesie and mittens that make it hard to hold anything. They aren't trusted to feed themself, so Gilgamesh feeds them while Thena leads them around on the leash. When Gilgamesh greets people amicably, and Thena greets people with her aloof smile, their darling glares at whoever they're directed to greet and mumbles a grudging "hello".

None of them are embarrassed about this. Thena is amused and enjoys the friction, and Gilgamesh is chill. Looking at all the other captives, darling demands, "How come they're not on a leash?"

Gilgamesh chuckles, "Because you're still biting yours."

Repeatedly, this darling tries to run for it, and Thena nonchalantly reels them back with a firm tug, not even pausing her conversation with the other guests.

Sam and Bucky's darling is shyly clinging to Sam's side. They don't have to say hi to anyone, because Sam and Bucky both enjoy the fact that they don't want to. "They're shy," Bucky says, and Sam pats their head fondly. They're dressed like a very fashionable five-year-old: everything matches, and they have very snazzy tennis shoes. Bucky and Sam are asked where they bought that shirt, those shorts, that cloth cap.

While darling doesn't talk to or look at the other yanderes, they're fascinated with the other darlings. They're kind of scared of the struggling ones, but their eyes are drawn to something brightly colored: Druig and Makkari's darling. Pretty...And they look friendly... Darling accidentally makes eye contact with Druig, who raises an unimpressed (almost challenging) eyebrow, and they quickly look away. When Sam and Bucky eventually run into Druig and Makkari and start making small talk, darling keeps their face buried in Sam's shoulder, so that only one eye can see the colorful darling who's now staring right back at them, curiously.

"Hi," Drukkari's darling says. They're allowed to carry their own plate!

Sambucky's darling waves hello but does not leave the safety of Sam's side.

The Guardians of the Galaxy were not invited to the party, but they showed up anyway. Their darling is as rough-edged as you'd expect from someone who has to trade barbs with Rocket Raccoon on the daily. They're dressed in an outfit composed of articles that have each been scavenged separately. (And an anklet of what looks like braided wood but is really a part of Groot's body, which can at any time grow roots into the ground, preventing them from walking.)

Rather than sticking by their yanderes (like most if not all of the other darlings do, if not by choice then by force), this darling pretty much runs rampant through the room, sneaking food from the banquet tables and making an honest effort to quietly steal a sling ring from Dr. Strange. Occasionally, Rocket or Nebula or Quill shouts at them from across the room to put something down or otherwise stop doing what they're doing. Groot, in the role of the older sibling, sometimes goes to herd them back.

"In what way is that age regression, and not just kidnapping?" Strange asks.

"Oh, that?" Quill says. "They're just going through a rebellious phase. Groot did the same stuff."

Separately, Nebula muses to someone, "With a father as cruel as Thanos, I never believed myself to have much of a...nurturing side. But ever since we found- GET DOWN FROM THERE, OR I WILL THROW YOU THROUGH THE WALL!" she suddenly bellows.

"Up yours!" their darling shouts back.

"It's nice to be a mom," Nebula continues solemnly.

(Thenamesh's darling tries to convince them to cut their leash.)

Eventually, Mantis puts them to sleep, and Drax spends the rest of the party with them casually slung over his shoulder.

The Guardians are still probably asked to leave.

Dr. Strange's darling is behaving themself, but they have an attitude. They're terse, with their lips in a sour twist that clearly conveys that they would not be here were it not for their magical captor and his ability to appear anywhere they could think to run. Their clothes are impeccable (and have the look of a boarding school uniform), but their hair is messy, suggesting they did not intend for Stephen to have an easy time getting them here.

This darling is simultaneously annoyed by the darlings who make a spectacle of their attempts to defy their yanderes and disgusted by the darlings who obey too well. The way Sambucky's darling is coddled and doted on is unbearably cloying, but Drukkari's darling being allowed to hold their own plate just absolutely grinds their gears, because Strange's darling isn't allowed to do or have anything, without Strange acting as the middle man. They have to politely ask for each bite of food, politely ask for any book or activity they might use to entertain themself, politely ask to go to the bathroom...And Strange really would let them wet themself, if they didn't ask politely enough.

They drag their feet, when Strange walks over to Druig and Makkari and the golden darling themself. They cross their arms tightly, as Strange chats with the Eternals and Drukkari’s darling meets their glower with a look they can't help reading as supercilious.

Strange's darling refuses to greet Drukkari's darling, and they don't consciously register that their unreasonable animosity toward their fellow abductees signifies a great deterioration in their emotional intelligence.

---

(I can think of more, but this post is getting long, and I'm not sure how interesting it is to other people, lol.)

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snowdropluck204 · 2 months ago

Text

A Date With Death - Spencer Reid x Unsub Fem! Reader - Pt 2

Hiya my lovelies... It's been a while... Mainly because I've been trying to write an original book, but hit a snag, so I'm back to my criminal minds centre of my brain to try and get some inspiration, hopefully this works... Anyway! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Xxx

TW: Murder, gore, blood, mentions of rapists, paedophiles, abuse, y/n being mistaken for male, assisted suicide.

Tag List: @vexis-world @inexplicableeee @flowercrownsandtrauma @alysianc @btsiguess-kpop @devilslittlebabyxx @delusional-4-fake-people @mega-kittyglitter-1 @esposadomd

(y/n) pov

I watched from around the corner of the hallway, waiting for Isabel Jackson to come home, waiting for her to stumble back to her hovel as she did most nights, either from her graveyard shift or from a night of drinking. This particular woman, wasn't as bad as a lot of the people I had previously disposed of, she hadn't killed anyone herself, but she was the reason for two young men, taking their own lives.

I sighed, thinking about the news articles, I remembered this case, it happened about two years ago and was thrown out of court. Because a woman couldn't possibly be capable of raping and abusing four, strapping young men? Could she? Granted the public believed that the person killing all these people was a man, probably not thinking anyone participating in such gruesome events could be a woman. I sighed once more. This was all for one purpose.

I watched, through the camera doorbell, as the woman came home, stumbling into her apartment and promptly passing out, as I could see all the cameras' feeds on my tablet. I waited, for around an hour, before walking up to the door, my mask on, I had decided to lean into the press and media, wearing a mask again, but this time, one of my own design. It was a kabuki mask, one of a skull, bright, innocent colours, like that of my original candy skull mask, but this one was mine. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a long, black rectangular box, a device I had invented, I waved it across the door lock, hearing the soft kachunck as the tumblers fell into place. I looked up at the camera, knowing that the police would be able to see me, I waved.

I opened the door and stepped inside. I took great care in disabling the security system, the cameras, the alarms, of course it wasn't difficult, I was the one who had designed the system, I had been the one to sell them to her...

3rd Person pov

The police, and therefore the BAU, had been notified of finding another body, matching the unsub's MO. A man had called the police, stating that he had just come off his shift at the graveyard, the same one the body was found, when he saw someone leaving, couldn't see a face or clothing, it was barely lit in the early morning. But he walked over, feeling the whole thing was rather sketchy, seeing a dead body just outside the gates of cemetery.

The victim still carried his I.D, whether it was left on the body by design or the killer had forgotten about it was unknown. The man's name was David James, he had been previously convicted of domestic assault, and later, sexual assault and paedophilia. Spencer called Garcia, asking for a background check on the latest victim and receiving a call, not two minutes later with what she had found.

Spencer put the call on speaker phone, holding it up awkwardly, so that Morgan and Hotch could listen into the call, "Go ahead Garcia," Spencer said, eagerly awaiting what she had found.

Garcia sighed, coming through the phone crackled and morphed, "This guy was creepy, not like Hannibal creepy, but just icky kinda creepy. He was arrested a few years ago, police having gotten a call from the neighbours that they heard screaming coming from his place, he was taken in by the police, his wife was bloodied and bruised, with broken fingers, obviously he'd beaten the stuffing out of her, poor woman. There wasn't enough evidence to make it stick, because without the wife's testimony, apparently the rest of the evidence was circumstantial... Morons." Garcia groaned.

"But then there was a sticking of one charge, being sexual assault and paedophilia... Ew... Apparently he molested his own daughter when she was ten... He spent only a year in jail, he made a deal and walked with no parole, that was about five years ago, and unfortunately his daughter couldn't deal with the trauma, she took her own life in a foster home, two years ago. Her mom ran away when she found out her husband was released from prison... She was found a year ago, overdosed, they were buried together at Linwood Cemetery." Garcia finished her deep dive, Spencer was intrigued.

"Wait, Linwood Cemetery?" He asked softly. Garcia confirmed. "That's where the body was found," He informed her. "So the killer knows the specifics about his crimes, knows where his family and previous abuse victims were buried and left him outside the graveyard?" Spencer asked, crouching down to look at the body, seeing a note on one side of the corpse. "That's new..." He said, wearing rubber gloves and picking up the note.

The note read, "No entry for sinners."

"A note from the unsub?" Hotch asked, looking over Spencer's shoulder.

"I don't think so," Morgan responded, "The guy who found the body works here, he seemed to be a pretty big fan of the unsub, he was wearing a pin that said "Don't fear the reaper." Like that song?" He said, "I think this is just that weirdo trying to get fifteen seconds of fame." Morgan rolled his eyes at the idea.

Garcia had been following the media response towards the unsub, most people were completely enamoured with him, that he was doing work that should have been taken care of.

Spencer leaned back towards the body, taking care to look through every aspect of the scene, the body was facing up, arms crossed over his chest, a white lily laced between the fingers, cleaned of most of the blood, which hadn't leaked much onto the ground where he was lying, so the unsub had cleaned up most of the blood at a separate location, most likely the victim's home, before bringing him here. This could have been a sign of remorse... Or a way of leaving less evidence.

The garrote was once again, wrapped around the neck, digging painfully into the skin, leaving deep, bloody grooves in the throat and the handle had the word paedophile carved jaggedly. The carving seemed different to the other victims, this one was angry and harsh, you could see just how much pressure was forced into the wood. Spencer's brow furrowed in concentration, "The unsub seems to have a connection with paedophiles, either they were assaulted as a child or knew somebody who was being assaulted and didn't do anything, that feeling of guilt probably followed them into adulthood and they're trying to compensate for their lack of power then, by forcing their will on these types of felons now.

This kind of unsub is especially dedicated, I doubt he'd stop until he's caught, there's only a finite amount of people he could kill, eventually the felons would become harder to locate, or the unsub would simply get too old... Either way, we need to catch them or he'll just continue..." Spencer finished, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Hotch looked on at him in worry, seeing him so befuddled was odd, to everyone on the team.

When they were ready, the team went back to the local station, ready to give the cops the profile they were working with. Standing in a circle around the group of desks in the bullpen, each member of the team filled in the police on what they knew. "We believe we're searching for a man in their mid twenties, not necessarily poor or well off, more middle class, probably has a job working with parts, computers, cars, something he can have control over." Hotch began.

Morgan stepped forward, to continue, "We believe something happened to this man in his childhood, either he was sexually abused or someone in his life was and he was powerless to do anything about it, now he's taking the law into his own hands to fix what he couldn't fix back then."

Elle began to speak, "He won't be open about his feelings on the news and the press, this isn't about fame and media portrayal, this is personal, he has a target in mind, we just don't know who that is yet, but we do know that he won't stop until this object of his obsession is taken care of, or until we catch him."

Spencer watched his teammates thoughtfully, he was conflicted about his feelings regarding these killings, it was obviously a horrible thing to have to look at the string of victims this unsub had left behind, but these were bad people, so maybe they deserved this kind of end? He stepped forward, "This unsub is most likely calm and collected, someone you could tell your troubles to, someone you can share secrets with, someone charismatic and easygoing. They might be religious, probably some kind of old druid or pagan religion, and they're the kind of person to feel deeply upsetting about hearing about the loss of a person, even if they didn't know them."

Spencer was frustrated with himself, most of the profile wasn't conclusive. The unsub might not be religious, they might have just been incredibly intelligent and throwing the police off by adding a religious format to the killings... They might not have been sympathetic towards their victims, but want to seem as though they are... Everything about this profile felt... Wrong...

One of the local cops came into the room out of breath, "Sorry to interrupt, we've found another body, almost half a mile away from the last..." He said anxiously, Spencer glanced at the rest of the BAU, Gideon meeting his tired eyes. Each time he thought they were getting closer, the unsub seemed to be at least three steps ahead of them...

They were probably on their next victim already...

(y/n) pov

Isabel Jackson, wasn't difficult to deal with, she was so wasted that she barely woke up before I slit her throat, the feeling of her blood seeping into my clothes made me feel ill, I couldn't help the shivering and retching as got back to my car. I sighed, realising there was still someone else I had to visit, someone who wasn't on my list necessarily, but was someone I genuinely did care about.

When I saw the text I was left, I couldn't ignore it, I drove to a suburb neighbourhood, mostly populated by elders, this house was no different. I stepped in through the gap in the back fence, walking through the backyard under the cover of night, I used my key to get into the house through the back door, walking through the house I'd known all my life. This house in particular belonged to a lovely old man named Reggie, he was just the sweetest old fellow, but now...

I walked into the room that was once a cosy living room, now it had been converted into a bedroom, after Reggie got too weary and frail to handle the stairs, the room was now filled with bottles of pills and ointments, heart monitors, IV drips and Reggie... Poor, poor Reggie.

Stage four, terminal pancreatic cancer, he'd beaten cancer once, when I was still small, but he was exhausted, too tired to fight, I stepped closer to the bed, seeing Reg, sleeping, even sleeping he looked tired, each breath looked like it was agony to take. I sat next to him, taking his cold hand in mine, "Reg?" I said softly, trying not to choke on tears and the lump in my throat.

He startled awake, seeing me, he settled back against the pillows. Being that I was inside the house, the curtains were closed, I had taken off my mask, showing my face, I probably looked almost as tired as he was. He smiled weakly, raising his hand from mine to cup my cheek, "Is that my little duck?" He asked, teasingly, that same glint in his eye from all those years ago that never seemed to fade. I smiled, nodding.

When I was a child, from when I was five til I was about eight, I had an obsession with ducks, I had shirts with them, I wore a onesie with a bill and duck tail, apparently I even spent a good few weeks quacking at people... Reggie never let me forget it, I remember when I was a teenager I would roll my eyes at his teasing comments, now, I couldn't even laugh. I leaned into his hand resting against my cheek.

Reggie took in my appearance, a small frown came onto his face, "Never expected my lil duck to become a murderer..." He mumbled. I sighed, nodding, even though it pained me to hear his comment.

"I know Reg... But I have to do this... for everyone that they hurt, or could hurt... For chick..." I told him, my eyes filling with tears, struggling to keep them from trailing down my cheeks. Reggie's eyes grew sad when I mentioned her, he knew exactly who I was doing this for. "When I got the text from your daughter... I didn't know what to do... I didn't know if I would be hearing your last words or taking them..." At that, I broke, leaning my head against his bed, soaking the covers with my tears, my chest sore from my sobs.

I felt Reggie's shaky hand rest on my head, I looked up at him, "You know what I want you to do, but don't feel you have to... I don't want this resting on your conscious." His voice was almost pathetic, quiet, he was simply ready to die...

I sighed, pulling open my bag, the kit I brought out was relatively lightweight, but the gravity of what I was about to do seemed to be pulling my down. I pulled out some syringes. "I got these from a nurse friend I have, they'll put you into a sleep you won't wake up from..." I told him, trying to be stoic, but I could feel myself breaking. This man was like a grandpa to me, to chicky... We would play here after school when our parents were working, hell even when they were, Reggie would chase us about, we'd play tag, hide and seek, and Reg would make us hot chocolate with a horrific amount of marshmallows and whipped cream as he'd tell us stories about monsters and dragons and princesses that were sick of being saved.

Reggie leaned back, closing his eyes, as I injected the serum, "Thank you, my little duck..." He whispered, as his eyes fell closed and his face went slack. I sighed, the dam breaking as I sobbed over the loss. After a few minutes, I laced the flower between his fingers, kissed his head and turned off the beeping monitor, I wiped my face, pulled down my mask and left the house, not even bothering to hide from anyone that could have seen me. I got in my car, and drove, I didn't know where I was driving until I got there...

I was in the field me and chick used to visit, meadow and streams everywhere, my knees began to ache, like they couldn't hold me up anymore. I fell to the floor and began to dig with my gloved hands, I felt like I'd been digging for hours, but I leaned over and screamed. I screamed and screamed until my voice was raw, all the sound being swallowed by this hole in the ground...

Hope this chapter was okay, this was more about setting out a background for your character! Hopefully it won't take me too long to write part three, granted I say that every time... Wish me luck! Xxx

#cute #love #fanfiction #romance #x reader #comfort #open requests #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #x fem!reader #murder #unsub!reader #angst #cw: gore

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 5 months ago

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Yandere Prince x Witch! Reader pt. 2

TW: Drugging mention, abortion mention, violence, honestly just the ordeal of waking up and finding out you're pregnant.

WANNA GET ME A ☕?

Five Months Ago...

"I need it. I need the reassurance she'll love me when I pick her," Helia said, walking into The Woods.

The Woods have light peaking from the tall trees, vines in the sky, and houses of flying creatures in the tree branches. Like an ecosystem, the fairytale characters and creatures that aren't in a castle harmoniously live in the Woods as a community. Near the lakes and streams are where the mermaids and nymphs live. The forest grounds are where mostly minotaurs, elves, fairies, dragons, and dwarfs live. Meanwhile, the sky has the harpies, phoenixes, and others. But everywhere in the forest has witches, vampires, and other magical beings to find and chat with.

"Excuse me, Mr. Elf, do you know where to find someone who can make a love potion?" Helia asked, tapping on the elf's shoulder.

"Oh wow, another royal in these woods. Luckily, you'll find what you seek right in front of you. My friend Y/N made extra potions of the highest quality with the most potent ingredients for the upcoming ball of Prince Helia," The elf responds, handing Helia a vile of pink liquid.

"Do the people who requested this potion want to use it on the prince?" Helia asks, giving the elf some golden coins. "And what does this friend of yours look like? Is she a witch?

"Haha! No. Let's just say gala and ball babies are trendy," The elf laughs, creeping out Helia. "But if you want to see her, look there."

Helia looks at the sunny Woods' path and sees a witch with a basket of herbs, fruit, and meat.

"She's beautiful," Helia thought, embodying the feeling of being bewitched.

Helia returns to his castle and doesn't look back at the woods, for if he did, he'd never return.

~~~~~~~~~~

It's been six months since the ball, and your relationship with Helia couldn't be better. However, that's because after the first love potion dose wore off on Helia, he's been giving you doses so you can't wake up from your lovely dream. But more importantly, the two of you have been preparing for the arrival of your baby girl, Maya.

"How's my beloved wife doing?" Helia asks, crawling onto the bed and rubbing your big stomach.

"You're gone too long. You missed our little girl kicking when I ate some peppers," You say, kissing your husband.

"Aw, sorry I missed your feeding time, baby," Helia coos, kissing your stomach. "How about this? I'll give you extra cuddles while we sleep."

"No complaints from me as long as I get free access to your cock if I get horny," You say, pulling back the covers and letting your husband in.

"Deal."

Helia climbs into bed and spoons you as sleep creeps up on you for the 45th time today. You wake up at 3 am, your body floating a foot in the air. Questions run through your fatigued body as you process your surroundings. A mirror sparkles in the moonlight, and you see the silhouette of your pregnant belly.

"Wha?" You whisper, subconsciously feeling the other side of the bed as if someone was supposed to be there.

You get up and look at your body. Your stomach is large with child, and your breasts are big and swollen with milk. You stare at your reflection in horror, touching your stomach and confirming your new reality. A whimper escapes your lips, and you sink to the ground. Your fetus kicks your stomach, and your whimpers turn into cries.

"Stop moving!" You cry, your nails digging into your stomach.

Your fetus kicks more and more, making you look for a way out of the bedroom. You see an uneven wall and run towards it, hitting the wall for a secret opening. Eventually, you hit the right spot, and an opening appears, leading to a dark passageway with cobblestone stairs spiraling downward. You put a hand on the wall to help keep your balance and go down the stairs, hoping for an escape. When you reach the end, you take your first step toward freedom as you walk on the crisp new grass of spring.

"Into the Woods I go," You say, walking away from the castle and to your home.

It's a silent walk on the way home as the village surrounding the castle is asleep. With only you, your fetus, and your thoughts, you begin to talk to your daughter.

"You know, I thought about trying to find someone to abort you, but it wouldn't matter anyway. No one on this land, Woods or not, would do it. Ever since the royal family passed the lineage law a century ago, nobody could abort a fetus of royal lineage, illegitimate or not. The last time someone did that led to everyone not human living in The Woods. It's not your fault you're inside me, it's not my fault I'm pregnant with you, it's not our fault we were in that castle," You say, stumbling into the lively Woods.

As you walk the village's dirt roads, the castle erupts with noise. You hear horses leaving their stables and running out.

"No, no," You groan, walking into the Woods faster.

"Find Queen Y/N, and bring her back to the castle or King Helia. Do not harm her!" The royal head knight commands, making you run further into the Woods.

The Woods become dark, and the liveliness you love and know becomes non-existent.

"I must be in the Fairytale district," You say, holding your stomach as you trek through the dark woods full of thorns, shrubbery, and trees that seem to be closing in.

"My love," Helia says, seeing your figure in the woods.

You run, tearing your dress as it gets caught in the thorns.

"Y/N, my love! Wait! You'll hurt yourself!" Helia yells, making his horse speed up.

You jump over a fallen tree and try not to focus on the pain from your feet.

"Leave me alone!" You yell, sliding down a steep hill.

You think you can handle the speed, but suddenly, you're sliding out of control. You scream as you head toward a dark valley full of fog and embrace your stomach, preparing for the worst. A hand grabs your arm at the last minute, and you're dangling an inch above raging rapids. Helia carries you back up, and you both rest on the forest floor.

"Are you crazy? You could've gotten yourself killed!" Helia screams, grabbing your shoulders.

"It would've been better than whatever was going on in that castle!" You scream, holding your stomach. "Do you know what it's like waking up and not knowing what happened to your body? What happened to yourself, and why you can't recognize places that feel familiar?"

"All you had to do was stay as my sweet wife, but it's my fault. I didn't give you another dose of love in time. But I won't make that mistake again," Helia states, pulling out a syringe filled with a love potion.

"No! No, please!" You beg, holding Helia's hands.

"Just stay still, and it'll all be over!" Helia screams, trying to stab your neck.

"NO!"

Magic shoots out of your body, flinging Helia across the forest. The silence from the forest takes over, leaving you with your tears and your baby's kicks.

"I'm sorry, May-Maya-no, May. That's right, May. I'm sorry, May. I shouldn't have hurt your daddy," You ramble, crawling to Helia's body.

You grab the syringe and use your magic to incinerate it. Then, you tap on your husband's cheeks for a sign of life. If his body is found in The Woods, it'll be the end of the magical and supernatural creatures in the kingdom.

"Helia, please. Please wake up," You beg, lightly slapping his cheeks.

"Mm...my love, you didn't leave," Helia groans, weakly holding your hand.

You couldn't leave. Not if you wanted any semblance of a future for your friends and family.

"Hey, how about we read parenting books, and have dinner?" You suggest, hoping he will not wonder where the love potion went.

"Queen Y/N, what happened to King Helia?" The head knight asks, jumping off his horse.

"A bear was about to attack me. Helia defended me and got wounded in the battle," You lie, holding Helia's hand.

"Guards, take King Helia to the infirmary for treatment and get the royal doctor and wizard. I'll take Queen Y/N back to her quarters," The head knight commands, picking you up and putting you on his horse.

And so, the witch and the prince return to their castle. Their unborn child is as calm as ever as the witch opens a book with a stork carrying a baby on the cover. The prince, now king, curls up next to his wife, his hand rubbing her belly. The witch hiding her disgust and she turns the next page.

#sanyuthewitch05 #yandere prince #yandere king #witch!reader #yandere x reader

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alixandra-elizabeth-ellis · 2 months ago

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Hi loves! Hope you guys are doing well. Here's a nightwing fanfic to feed everyone's obsession! I used HBOMAXs nightwing Pic but that really doesn't matter if anyone has any requests or cool pics for me to use Please don't be shy and message me♡! Sorry if there's any spelling mistakes I wrote this late at night

Warnings: Nothing triggering or tragic is mentioned. Romantic content is mentioned female reader!!! Sorry♡

Likes reblogs and follows are appreciated

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I have always loved you

"Sometimes all it takes is a moment of bravery to change everything."

Your relationship with dick was...complicated strangers to best friends to well strangers again, but after all these years, you found him on your doorstep asking for some sense of familiarity maybe if it was anybody else you would've told them to go away but you can't just to that to him no matter what

"So what are you doing here?...after all these years?" You said, raising an eyebrow at him as you sat down on your couch.

"What i can't visit my best friend now?" He said with his signature boyish smirk that you found yourself loving it so many years ago

"You know usually people don't visit their so-called best friend after what? Four or five years"

He sighed you knowing you had a point he couldn't just waltz into your life again after disappearing

"I know, I know....I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have left...I shouldn't have left you like that it was wrong but I needed to come back to take a hold of what i loved and love"

"Well then, you came to the wrong place because I can't find the person you want to meet" you said trying to play it cold he didn't need to know that you've missed him every day sometimes even going as far as asking Bruce or Alfred if there's anything knew about him....

"I think I'm looking at her right know"

"No you're not she isn't the person you knew she moved on and she doesn't have any intentions of going back"

Dick knew he had no rights demanding anything yet he looked at you with a pleading expression

You wanted to say no kick him out and tell him to never come back to you ever again, yet the other part of you wanted to hug him too tightly that he couldn't breathe and tell him how much you have missed him

"Fine I guess you can stay"

He smiled at you immediately, appreciating the empathy you had oh how you wish you didn't though you don't know how you ended up in this situation with the both of you two guys in your room cuddled up talking to each other like old the old times....

Your head was on his chest as you looked up at him as his gaze flicked to your lips lingering for a moment before meeting your eyes. He could sense the tension between the two of you, the undeniable attraction that had been there for so long but never acted upon.

He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to your knuckles, his eyes locked on yours as he did so.

"I love you...I have always loved you since the day I meet you and I know I have been a damn idiot to never tell you that before" you melted at his words...he loves you he had always loved you all these times you spend thinking nothing would ever happen was for nothing....

The rest of your night was spend making up for the lost time as you guys spend the time away by whispering words that were just meant for the two of you to know....

#nightwing #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #comics #richard grayson #richard dick grayson #new blog #fanfic #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson

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babyhatesreality · 1 year ago

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The Sinner and the Saint Ch 10

*GIF for vibes only, not a depiction of reader's appearance*

Pairing: Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

A/N: Here we go :)

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, reader is referred to by her stage name of Angel, reader is insecure, addiction references (reader feels addicted to Bucky, no drugs), SMUT, p in v, unprotected (glove before love people), creampie, p*ssy worship, foreplay, begging, teasing, one soft sp@nk, dom Bucky/sub reader dynamic and talk, Bucky is larger than reader, slight size kink, slight possessive behavior

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

“Would you like to come home with me tonight?”

All breath exited your body. And all sense as well.

Well, almost.

One tiny corner of your brain screamed at you that you'd only know this man's real name for a little over an hour, that you'd really only known him for a week, and that he was a GODDAMN MAFIA DON. But your addiction to Bucky Barnes was screaming much, much louder. You tried to keep your cool and your composure as you casually took a sip of your wine.

"Are you looking to do a scene tonight?" you asked, your thighs pressing together at the mere mention of it. Bucky smiled that sinfully seductive smile back at you.

"No," he said softly. You felt a fleeting stab of disappointment, which of course showed on your face. He grinned at you. "Let me rephrase. I want to do anything and everything with you and to you. You have NO fucking clue. We will do scenes, but that's later. Right now, tonight...I just want you. Just you and me. No set ups, no scenarios, no accessories. Only you and me tonight."

You were so turned on by his erotic and intimate request that you couldn't help but shift a bit in your chair. His grin widened devilishly, and you thrust your chin in the air, trying to prove that you weren't as instantly readable as he seemed to think you were. "You and me only. I think that can be arranged," you said smoothly, patting yourself on the back for your chill.

Bucky snorted a low laugh, making you panic for a second. Had he been teasing you, just to let you down? But he leaned forward, clasping his hands together and looking you dead in the eye with that wicked smile. "Cut the Cool Hand Luke act," he teased gently. "What is it you really want to say to me?"

Well. Fine. Fuck that then. He asked.

You hurtled yourself off your chair and practically threw yourself into his lap, grasping his head in between your hands and smashing your mouth onto his. The second your lips connected, that absolute thrill shot through your veins like electricity again, feeding the burning, sparkling desire you felt for him. You moaned into his mouth as the feel of his lips both soothed and exacerbated every nerve in your body, setting you on fire.

He responded quickly after a second of freezing, surprised by your amorous onslaught, wrapping his right hand around you and pulling you in tightly to his chest while his left hand slid up your back and into your hair. He pulled you impossibly closer to him as your arms wound around his neck. The push and pull of your mouths was sinfully delicious. And then he opened his mouth and slipped his tongue between your lips.

With another soft exhaled exclamation, you gave him full access to explore, which he greedily took advantage of. The feel of his warm, wet tongue slipping in and out and all around made you desperately aware of your arousal downstairs. You couldn't help the needy whine that escaped. You felt his lips curve up, then he pulled away for a moment, causing you to exhaled in horny frustration. He smirked that damn challenging smirk of his at your impatience.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Bucky asked you. What the fuck?! You shared one of the deepest, most passionate kisses of your life and THAT'S what he stopped it to ask?! Instead of answering, you moved to press your lips back to his. He jerked back and gave you a soft spank instead, a look of warning on his face. That made you stop immediately, staring at him doe-eyed, your arms still around his neck.

"Uh uh," he admonished quietly. "Answer the question, now." You took a deep breath and gulped.

"Yes, sir," you said, before squirming again, unable to keep the neediness out of your voice as you felt his significant arousal as well. You needed another hit of your Bucky drug, knowing how turned on he was too, but somehow instinctively knew better than to challenge that look. You felt the thrill zip through him as you called him 'sir', but he wasn't quite ready to give in just yet. He obviously had more self control than you, the bastard.

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Really?" he asked, giving you that look again, wanting a more satisfying answer. So you took another breath to rein your roaring libido in, looking behind you at your empty plate and half drunk wine. You reached across the table impatiently, snatched the glass, and drank in down in one. You felt more than saw his grin get wider and wider as you chugged. You slammed the glass down on the table and turned back to him, the look in your eye now wild.

"Really," you deadpanned back. He laughed in the back of his throat.

"Little brat," he teased affectionally, then his grin got wider when you gave him your own cheeky smile back. "Seems like you needed a little touch of the Dom tonight after all." He laughed again as you attacked his lips with a feral growl, then met you with the same enthusiasm.

You didn't entirely remember how you got back to the car, as Bucky half carried you through a back door exit, his lips never leaving yours. You suddenly realized you were outside only because of the abrupt temperature change. You heard a car door, and only opened your eyes because Bucky set you down.

"In," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. You scrambled in immediately and he followed, slamming the door shut and reaching for you again in the same fluid movement. "Home," he barked at Steve, before jamming his finger on button to slide the privacy divider between the front and back seat up. Before the divider was even halfway up, Bucky put his hand behind your head and dove into your mouth with his tongue again.

Panicking slightly, your eyes shot to the rearview mirror. Now that you knew Steve was Bucky's oldest and best friend, what did he think of you agreeing to go home with his buddy? Were you good enough for him? For his boss, the gangster?? Were you making a very dangerous man mad? But you caught the tiniest eye crinkle in the mirror right before it disappeared, that made you realize Steve was smiling, even if just a little bit.

And, to be honest, the next second that Bucky's tongue swept the roof of your mouth, you forgot what you had even been worried about.

You were so caught up in the spell that was Bucky Barnes, that squealed in surprise into Bucky's mouth when he suddenly yanked you sideways in your seat and out the door. You came to your senses enough to realize you were in a huge, cavernous garage, before Bucky literally hoisted you into his arms and started walking, carrying you like a koala. You didn't give a shit. You only wanted him and couldn't be bothered to think of anything else.

Before you knew it, you found yourself on your feet. You looked around and gasped in surprise. You were in his fucking bedroom.

The furniture in the room was all a rich, deep cherry color, all looking incredibly expensive and well cared for. The fabrics in the room were black with silver details, but every now and then a surprising pop of a soft dark purple color combined with the mahogany wood made it all feel warm and inviting, but slightly dangerous- a room worthy of a mafia king. The bed was huge, with a mahogany headboard woven with a black wrought iron detailing grate inlaid on it.

It suddenly hit home where you were. And what was about to happen. You took a deep breath, but a combination of nerves and anxiety smacked you back to reality all at once. And then Bucky put his hands on either side of your face and turned your gaze back to him.

The slow burn through your blood as you sank into his touch drove out everything else. He gently kissed your lips, leaning down over you possessively. Your hands grasped his sides, pulling yourself into him. His arousal was now more prominent than ever, making you feel like a fucking goddess.

"I've watched you take your clothes off for the last week," he said in a seductive tone. "You have no idea how jealous I've been...of you getting to do that. Now it's finally my turn."

He reached down, pulling on the silk wrap tie at your waist. He apparently understood how the dress worked, because as he slid his hand inside for the interior tie he also leaned down, pressing his lips softly to the crook of your neck. It felt so sinfully divine that your head tilted back and you let out a soft moan. You felt his lips curve up against your sin.

"Mmmm, you're so responsive," he murmured, tugging the tie open. "I'm gonna have fun with that." Once the tie came loose, he stood back up, slowly pushing the silk dress off your shoulders. It flowed down your arms in a fluttery wave to the floor. He stepped back and sharply inhaled as he took in your lingerie.

You were wearing a black silk plunge bra, and a matching black silk thong with the tiniest hint of purple lace trim. He growled in appreciation and went into remove them. You reciprocated by reaching for his shirt buttons (You didn't remember him losing his jacket, but fuck it, one less layer to deal with). The first time he felt your fingers on the button, he instantly snatched your wrists, holding them tight.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he said playfully, making you smirk. "Did I tell you you could do that?"

Since this wasn't a scene and you weren't sure you'd ever be able to get away with this again, you turned on the puppy dog eyes and gave him your biggest exaggerated pleading pout. He took one look at your face, and his entire demeanor changed to soft. Then he scowled.

"Goddammit, that's gonna be dangerous," he muttered, making you giggle as he yanked his cuffs open. You took that as permission to keep going, hurriedly undoing the buttons but trying to be cool. The more skin you revealed, the less cool you got, until finally you yanked his shirt tails out of his pants and over his shoulders. You exhaled as you took in his sculpted torso. There was no body hair save a fine line down beneath his waistline, but a plethora of scars. For some reason, the thrill of him zipped through you again, just looking at them. You wanted to run your fingers across every single one of them, but you wanted something else even more now.

You both grew frenzied, him reaching for your bra and you reaching for his zipper, your lips locking as you fervently raced to unclothe each other. Once the last garment dropped, you both stepped away as if on cue and looked at each other.

His blue eyes were glowing with a carnal appreciation and lust as he saw you, fully undressed, for the first time. You noted how his gaze lingered on you lower abdomen, your breasts, your neck. He'd seen almost all of that before at the club, but now it was complete and all only for him. You looked him over yourself, appreciating the fine specimen of abs, the cut hip bones, and his...

"Oh my god," you breathed out.

He grinned devilishly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He moved towards you, his cock at full attention, and pulled you into him again, slotting his tongue into your mouth. The feeling of skin on skin was indescribable, sending you into a lusty haze. You ran your hands up his back, feeling more scars, but feeling HIM. You could feel the warm, velvety flesh under your fingers and the moving muscles of his back. You felt more high than you'd ever been in your life.

He moved you closer to the bed, only pausing from kissing you to rip the covers back. You were surprised by the dark purple silk sheets. Somehow you'd managed to color coordinate with his bedroom.

Score one for you.

He gently laid you down on the bed, then positioned himself on your left, running his right hand up your arm, subtly moving you so that your hands went above your head. You were completely under his spell, moving exactly how he wanted you to with only the slightest nudging on his part. Nuzzling to your side, one of his legs thrown over and trapping both of yours, you felt his impressive manhood pressing into your hip, and without realizing it, you turned your whole body towards it, letting out a small whine of need. He let out an exhale of satisfaction as his right hand subtly took a hold of both of your wrists over your head, pinning them gently down.

"So gorgeous, my perfect Angel," he whispered hoarsely. He took his time, tracing the fingers of his left hand down your body, noting its response to the metal. It was shockingly warm yet electrifying. You were insanely aware of where those fingers were. You bit your lip to try to keep your moans inside, but he attacked your mouth with his the moment he saw that.

"Mm-mm," he scolded in his throat as he kept up his fiery assault on your lips. He broke away, leaving you gasping for air and for him. "Don't hold back. I want to hear every sound I pull out of your body. This room is sound-proofed; no one other than me will hear you. I want every single sound- only for me. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mmmmm ESPECIALLY that sound," he growled, before he began kissing down your body again, causing you to arch and bow and moan like you'd never done before. He ran his fingers along every part of you, taking his time, usually finishing with a kiss before he moved onto the next section. "Someday," he murmured against the soft skin under your right breast, his body draped over and touching yours, "I will have every inch of you in my mouth."

You groaned as those words stoked the blazing fire of need centering between your legs. You felt your pussy twitch as that mental image of having every part of your body in his talented mouth invaded your mind. Bucky smiled and licked a line under your breast, right where his lips had just been. You nearly screamed at the incredible feeling, your back arching involuntarily. "But I don't have the patience for that right now, not when I need you so badly," he whispered against your left nipple. Your eyes closed as your back bowed again.

"Bucky, please," you managed to gasp out. "Need you too."

"Do you now?"

"Yes, please! Please!"

"So pretty when you beg for me, Angel. Begging to be made a sinner."

"Bucky, please, please..."

Bucky moved his lips to your left ear. "I'm right here, baby," he whispered. Your entire body instantly went limp, reacting to the warmth and the sensuality of it. You felt his right hand let your wrists go, and him move to the end of the bed. Your eyes opened to find him kneeling at your feet, looking down on you like a predator, his huge dick fully at attention.

"Open yourself to me," he whispered. "I want to see you." His eyes dragged from your ankles to your core, where your thighs were pressed together.

A fear shot through you at his insanely intimate request. Why was he asking this? What if he didn't like what he saw? A lot of guys didn't want to look at a pussy, only pound into it. And could you actually bring yourself to spread your legs and let him...just look? And then he broke out his own secret weapon.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely. You couldn't resist it. There was no way, not when you were already hooked on him so desperately. You slid your hands down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs, and carefully spread your legs open for him. Your eyes never left his face as he moved in closer, on his knees.

Bucky stared into your core with wonder, letting out a small exhale of delight. His eyes slid along your folds, seeing the glistening arousal there. "My god," he murmured. "You are exquisite." He reached down and gently pumped his huge cock a few times, even though there was clearly no need. He just wanted to touch himself at the sight of your beauty.

His carnal worshipping of your pussy was the most erotic thing you'd ever experienced in your life. To have this gorgeous powerful man look at the most secret part of your body and declare it exquisite was beyond anything you'd ever felt before. And he hadn't even touched it yet. You felt powerful, worshipped, and at once- pliant and ready for whatever he wanted to do to you.

With a bold move, you slipped your hand between your legs to gather up your slickness. You reached out, replacing his hand, and gave his cock a few pumps of your own. Jesus Christ it was like getting your hand on a paint roller holy FUCK. His feral growl of pleasure was enough to send a new wave of lust crashing through you.

"Touch me," he commanded you, as he positioned himself in between your legs. Your hands traced up his arms as he guided his cock to your entrance. He looked at you, just to make sure.

"Yes," you whispered back, not even recognizing your own voice in your need. He slowly sank into you, letting out a sensual moan as he did. He tried to take it slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You gasped and mewled as he took you, your hands suddenly clutching his back fervently.

"Nails," he said, and you knew what he meant. You raked your nails down his back, and he let out a guttural cry, pushing in even further, making you gasp harder.

"Fuck, you are so goddamn tight," he murmured, kissing your collarbone frantically, trying to hold himself back from plunging into you and splitting you in half. In response to that, you put your hands on his incredibly firm backside, pulling him into you even more, not giving a damn if he cracked you right down the middle because it felt so fucking GOOD.

He slid all the way in, and between that and the feeling of your bare chests touching, you nearly came on the spot. You both tried to catch your breath for a moment as you adjusted to the incredible feeling of connection. He looked deep into your eyes, and all you could do was return the wide-eyed stare of wonder, before he smiled that devilish, seductive grin.

"Let me hear you baby," he said, then began slowly thrusting. The shocked gasp and high pitched keen that you gave off at the first thrust was exactly what he wanted to hear. For your sake, he tried to move slowly, letting you feel him as he slowly stoked your desire. He drank in every sinful moan and cry from your mouth, letting it fuel his own passion.

His sensual strokes became quicker as he could feel you pulsing and tightening around him, groaning in pleasure himself. Your hands were on his back, pressing him into you, then running up his arms to his face, and pulling him in for a desperate kiss, then back down his arms as he really began pumping into you. The feeling of his lower abdomen pressing against yours, feeling the slight sprinkle of his hair moving against your smoothness, drove you absolutely insane. You pressed your hips up, meeting him thrust for thrust, holding onto his ass as he fucked you into the mattress.

You felt that slow burn, that spot of golden light between your legs grow and grow as he thrust harder and harder. The glow began to fill you, to take you over, to block out anything in the world but the two of you. The air was filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin, the cries and moans out of the both of you, and the creaking of the bed. As it all got louder and louder, so did your passion and need for each other.

Your vision turned gold, and you just managed to get it out. "Bucky, I'm cumming, I-" before you exploded. You screamed to the heavens and all the angels, your back arching as the tremors passed through you. It went on and on, but somewhere in the midst of that you became aware that Bucky's thrusts were becoming more and more sloppy, and you felt him cum deep inside you, his warmth filling you. He cried out your name as he came, then partially collapsed on top of you, trying to make sure you were okay as you continued to press him into you, doing the same.

As you both came down from your insane high, gasping, muscles twitching, vision clearing as the moment passed, you couldn't think of anything else except one thing.

My whole life changes tonight.

Chapter 11

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