#i've done the first three temples
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lovely-v · 1 year ago
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it's crazy how skyward sword is becoming my favorite zelda game despite the fact that I've spent 2/3 of my time playing it suffering unbearably
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svtskneecaps · 2 years ago
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ayo shoutout to revali for being the champion whose ability i have used the least since obtaining
#i have not obtained urbosa's fury bc sand seals are scary and the camel makes me nervous#i've used mipha's grace at least three times bc i'm bad at the game but i'm also a coward so i don't die but when i DO die. i DIE.#and shoutout to daruk bc i can't parry for shit but i love exploding the spiders#not kpop#shut up vic#that's a lie i'm getting better at parrying i killed at least two walking guardian spider boys entirely on my own#and i can consistently get the decaying guardians first try#but like. i suck. lmfao.#if a shrine is anything above a minor test of strength i literally turn tf around and walk out#like yes medoh was my most recent divind beast but 'most recent' was last week#i have done most of naboris; explored mount lanayru; found a stable i somehow missed; combed the eastern islands; finished eventide;#tidied some sidequests; killed a talus using only bombs; killed another talus; cried in the temple of time; dyed half of my clothes purple;#found fifty more koroks; finally found the second to last memory i need; combed faron woods looking for the spring of courage because#my theory is that it's there (i'm still looking lol); killed a monster camp out of spite; picked a fight with every yiga i saw out of spite;#combed the gerudo highlands; finished two labyrinths; wandered into castle town; wandered into castle town again;#entered castle town with the intention of murdering every guardian i saw; killed the yiga leader; helped build tarrey town; killed a molduga#activated the tower in hyrule field; explored hyrule field in stealth mode bc i'm a pussy and guardians scare me; found and paid the last#great fairy; found and paid the horse god; found and tamed a third horse for the quest at dueling peaks; furnished links's house#upgraded most of my clothes to their highest level; tracked down the other two pieces of the zora armor; found more berserker armor;#killed a lynel because i walked in on it and decided that meant it had to die even if i died too#my point is i've done a lot of shit and in that time i have used revali's gale. twice.#me staring at a wet cliff: well. my only options are to wait it out or go around.#i can't stress that this isn't me willfully sticking it to the birdman i literally just forget i have it i am. dumb.#long tags
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painted-bees · 1 year ago
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A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte
[OC's]
(image description under the cut)
[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.
 (First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."
 (Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.
 (Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.
 (Fourth panel):  The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.
 (Fifth panel):  Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.
 (Sixth panel):  The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."
 (Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”
(Eighth panel):  Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain.  But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"
(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."
 (Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.
(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"
 (Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."
 (Thirteenth panel):  The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."
 (Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks.  Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]
This description was written and provided by Hiwi.
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logansdoll · 5 months ago
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Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again
sunflower
part three of "37"
CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.
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"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."
Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.
He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...
"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."
"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."
Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.
"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.
Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.
"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."
But Logan didn't buy it.
Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.
Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.
And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.
It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.
Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.
A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.
Your tears of joy when he proposed.
Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.
Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.
He missed it all.
And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.
"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."
His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.
"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."
The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.
He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.
'Let's hope he survives...'
"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."
Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.
"Now... try not to move."
Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.
He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.
"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.
"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."
"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.
"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.
You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"
He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."
Yes...
"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."
"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."
"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.
It's all coming back...
"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."
His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"
Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.
His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.
"You're... pregnant?"
You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.
But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."
Wait...
"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"
"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."
With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.
Pop!
Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.
You dislocated his finger.
Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.
"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.
Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.
In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.
And she wasn't even a minute old yet.
I have—
"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.
Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.
'James...'
Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.
She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.
Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.
"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.
"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.
'Laura...'
The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..
Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...
Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.
"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.
Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.
"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."
Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.
Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.
Every birthday.
Every boo-boo.
Every first.
Slowly but surely, they were all returning.
Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.
"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.
"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.
He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.
After all this time, your husband was truly whole.
Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.
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taglist !!
@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce  @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate @nickf1 @pinkisokay @mercurysjoy
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octuscle · 6 months ago
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Fatal shortcut
You know those days. The traffic is murder. You can't go another inch. Your destination is within reach, but it will take you three green lights and at least 20 minutes to cover the last 100 meters. Bloody hell! Honk the horn? It's no use… But now carefully pull onto the green lane, then cut across the high school parking lot and you're there. Why do you have your baby, the Mercedes G-Class, after all? I put on the turn signal, the car takes the sidewalk like nothing, carefully into the parking lot, look left and right and…… BANG! Damn it, the Mustang has clearly taken my right of way. This is guaranteed to take longer than 20 minutes… The two morons in the car look like they only have their heads to wear football helmets and pour beer through their mouths. The typical stereotypical football college jock bros. The day just keeps getting better…
"Yo, Chuck! Bro, did you see what that punk did there?" "Sure, Brad! He definitely took your right of way." I try to protest. But I'm way too caught off guard when the guy, who is obviously Chuck, stands up in front of me. God knows I'm not small. I'm a well-trained, muscular six foot two. But Chuck is easily ten centimetres and at least 20 kilograms taller than me… He grabs my balls. Damn it, I want to punch him, but Brad's already got me from behind. And Brad is barely smaller than Chuck. "There you go, you little faggot!" Chuck hisses at me. "Are you lying in wait for your wankers in the parking lot again? But this time is the last time!" He spits in my face and his grip on my balls tightens. Brad turns my head in his direction and spits again. Then the two of them get into their car, put it in reverse. And disappear.
I stand there a bit like an idiot. I'm far from being small or a faggot. And the last thing Chuck and Brad were to me were wank templates. I mean, I have nothing against gays… But thanks no, not for me… I'll take a look at the damage to the car. It's no big deal, the Mustang looked worse. I get back in the car, drive the last few meters into the underground car park, throw my keys to Stephen at reception and ask him to take the car to the garage. When I get off work later, I'd like to have it done. He puts his hand to his temple and says "Sir, aye, sir". Hehehe, I don't mind hierarchies being recognized.
"You little faggot"… I can't get that phrase out of my head. Shit, I'm really unfocused today. Maybe I just need a distraction. I go to the gym during my lunch break. Somehow I feel the need to look like anything but a faggot. I train bare-chested. Dressed only in compression shorts. Not really appreciated here. But I don't care today…
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Shit, I'm not in top form here either… What I normally lift without any problems is all too heavy for me today. At least it's the cross trainer… Even though I'm not really the cardio type. When I get in the shower, my cock gets hard. Shit, that's embarrassing. But I also have to say that there's really only premium meat running around here today. And I'm one of them. Definitely one of them. Even the clean-shaven guy in front sees it that way. Clear body language. It doesn't take long before I'm leaning against the shower wall. And for the first time in my life I get fucked… And how! I can hear the angels singing. It feels so good as the stallion cums in my ass. To say goodbye, he gives me a kiss and a pat on the ass. And he says loudly to one of his buddies. "What a waste for such a submissive pig to have such a magnificent cock!"
The fuck was great, but apart from that I'm really not myself today. I feel like I've been missing the last year. For the life of me, I can't remember a lot of things that happened. It's like I wasn't there. I'm glad when Stephen calls me at around 5 p.m. to tell me that my car is back. I thank him, pack up my things and go down to reception. Stephen grins at me almost insolently and says that this service is an exception and that he now has something good on me. Completely confused, I say, "I'm fine, dude" and take my car keys. But there is no black G-Class in my parking lot. There's a baby blue Mercedes SLK, in good shape, freshly polished. But it must be 15 years old. I press the key. The doors open. What the fuck?
I just want to get home, this day is a disaster. As I park the embarrassing car and walk past the concierge, Michael calls after me, "Hey, Johnny boy, can you give Mrs. Smith from 2316 a lift?" I turn red. I walk back to the concierge desk. "So what, my name is Jonathan, but it's actually Mr. Hays to you. And why would I stop on the 23rd floor when I live on the 38th. Besides, I don't know Mrs. Smith." Michael grins at me with his one-million-dollar smile. "Rough day, John, uh, Mr. Hays? You might as well ask the old lady if her drain is still acting up. And before you try to break into the wrong apartment, I understand you live in 2304." He hands me a package. I drive up to the 23rd floor. I give her the package. She asks if I can plug in the new coffee machine straight away. "Of course, mom," I say. I ask if her drain is working again. She says it would be nice if I could have another look. I ask if she has any rubber gloves. She nods. I pull the dirt out of the blocked drain. She slips me a dollar. I go to 2304, open the door. And drop onto the bed. It's right next to the door. 2304 used to be the room for the lady's maid from apartment 2312. On the one hand, I feel very much at home. But on the other hand, I should be somewhere else. Somewhere with a view of Central Park. With more space. I pull out my cell phone and start working my way through Grindr. Maybe I just need someone to take me really hard again today
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That was a night of really wild dreams. Really wild dreams. But obviously everything is fine now. I feel fit. My morning wood has never been better. I stroke my chest. Didn't it used to be hairy? I'm fantasizing again. What it would be like to be a real guy. Successful, at least 1.82 m. Well, I'm not going to grow any more. But maybe that's because of some Italian roots or something. That's where I got my hairy armpits and good beard growth. Shit, I'm still hard as nails. So routine like every morning: wank, jog, shower and then off to the office. I should be there at 07:00 so that the mail is distributed and the conference tables are all set before the Masters of the Universe arrive at the office. It's 07:05 when I walk in the door. Stephen grins and just says, "Subway?" "Don't ask, bro!" I reply, rolling my eyes. I didn't really need a bachelor's degree for my job. Jogging in the morning to stay in shape is more important. At the end of the day, I usually have 15K steps and 40 floors on my fitness tracker. And that's not usually the end of it. By the time I get home, Michael usually has a number of assistance activities for me. But hey, the address on the Upper Eastside sounds impressive, which I would never normally have been able to afford as a young professional. I'll even put up with the apartment on the first floor with a view of the backyard and the job as a temporary janitor.
Of course it's embarrassing to still live with my parents. But if I wanted to afford my own place, I'd probably have to move 200 miles away from Down Town. And I want to stay here. That's important to me. Also for financial reasons. The subway tickets alone would be too expensive if I had to travel further. I mean, the little bit of scholarship… And I don't earn much in the kitchen of the cafeteria. Stephen and Michael are good friends. If I didn't have them, I wouldn't make it. But they have good contacts. Stephen in the office, Michael at home. They always know someone who needs a massage with a happy ending. Or a greedy college boy face for a blowjob. The men are usually well-groomed. Too well-groomed, actually. That's why I always look forward to my part-time job as a trainer at the high school gym. If I'm lucky, I get to meet Brad and Chuck. I mean, they're not gay or anything. We never make eye contact. But I still get to blow them sometimes. Even though, of course, it's pathetic when you're a sophomore in college sucking high school seniors. But fuck, you won't find cheesier dicks with a more pronounced scent of musk and sweat anywhere!
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Yo, have I even dropped my name yet? It's Janusz, 19 years young and repping as an exchange student up in the Big Apple. Just call me Jonny, keep it chill. Hailing straight outta a tiny village near Krakow, Poland, in case that detail tickles your pickle. Still wrapping my head around this English gig… But let me tell ya, my French game is on point, or so the bros claim. Thrilled to be out of the parental crib and living it up in this wild city. Dang, the possibilities here are endless! Senior year vibes, you know what I'm saying? And now that I joined the wrestling squad, it's like BOOM! More close body action in a week than I got in a year with the 'rents around! Truth bomb: I make most of my cash tagging along with my wingmen Brad and Chuck, the school heartthrobs. I'm like their trusty sidekick. It's lit! Hoping to snag an athletic scholarship next year, fingers crossed. Sure, these two golden boys ain't wrestlers (legends in the bedroom, though), but football studs. It'd be epic if we could keep the bromance alive in college. Purely platonic, of course. Or not… 🤷‍♂️
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unknownati · 15 days ago
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x. bonnet
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a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me
*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering
warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,
_______________________________________________
a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.
"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.
to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.
your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.
"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to his lips as you pace by his room.
"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"
"then i don't know, baby."
"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"
ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."
"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."
he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.
"can you check your workroom?"
"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.
"ekko, don't get smart with me."
he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."
you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.
you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.
pink satin.
atop ekko's head.
"i know you fuckin' lying—"
you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.
ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"
you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.
now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.
your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.
"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?
"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.
"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"
...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.
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takes1 · 7 months ago
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I NEED MORE GYM BROS KIRISHIMA AND READER
thank you so much!! this is a fav of mine. i've had like half of this written for a whole year and lost motivation for it. picked it back up a few days ago and i'm rlly excited to post! soft end, so if anyone has suggestions for continuation, i can keep it going.
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warnings. nsfw, safe sex, f! receiving oral, big fingers, sharp teeth, size kink
details. nsfw / rough sex / gymbros with benefits / aged up!kiri / fem!reader / mentions of f! masturbation / f! rec oral / clumsy kiri / aftercare, cuddling / mutual size kink / shy reader / support course student!reader / scars thirst / sharp teeth thirst / 2.8k words
🤍 scenario series. part one thru three + more here / kiri headcanons
more links. my ao3. request box is: open!
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As soon as the door clicked shut, a calloused hand first draped your thigh over his other leg, then wasted no time to palm your cunt.
"Fuck," He sighed against your mouth to look down at his soaked hand.
It was totally his fault with the leg thing-- embarrassed, you pushed his hand back down and felt warm at his chuckle.
He slid his fingers under your useless panties, eliciting a very sharp, closed-mouth moan and another squirm. He locked you back into his chest.
No guy had spent so much time on you before. Kirishima seemed to get his kicks by pleasing you instead. His habit of waiting around to pull his dick out was a new concept, but you really liked it.
Still, that empty feeling in you was only heightened by his careful attention to your clit, and messy smattering of kisses over the side of your face and neck.
Your hand was already shaking on the back of his hand as he pushed his middle and ring finger into you, smooth and slow with the help of your own lubrication.
"Mmmh- Aah," You scratched on his already heavily scarred knuckles, breathless at how much bigger his fingers were than yours.
"That feel okay?"
His breath brushed by your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. You gave a whimpery, 'Mhm' and completely missed his mouth when you tried to kiss him.
Thankfully, he had no problem holding you by the back of the neck to help -and to keep you still when you tried to pull away-. He lapped up every choked sound and broken phrase that left your lips.
"You're so cute," He muttered, done with keeping you hostage in more drawn-out, clumsy kisses, and pressed his forehead hard into your temple.
The compliment went straight to the tightness forming in your stomach. You squeezed around him, goosebumps formed in your skin.
"Please, just fuck me already," You struggled to get out.
Your head hit his shoulder with the focus it took to not cum around his hand.
The laughter of the man under you made your entire body shake with him. Based on his reaction, you thought he might say no, but were relieved to hear a smiley:
"Yes, ma'am."
Ma'am? He was full of funny names and habits for you.
Once again, that terrible, empty sensation came back tenfold when he took his fingers out in order to carry you over to his bed. He would've rather fucked you on the desk, but the height difference would've made it incredibly inconvenient.
Your back was still to him when he set you down. You slid your arms up so your chest was pressed on his already fucked up sheets. He hiked his shirt up to give your ass a few lovetaps but stopped all too soon.
"You just sit there, nice and pretty for me."
When he saw you poke your head up to watch him root around in his bedside table drawer, he bit the inside of his cheek and palmed a painful throb away.
The sight of a few condoms made you feel a little ashamed that it had completely slipped your mind.
You slid so you could lay on your stomach, heels locked together in the air, and watch him start to tug on his waistband, finally.
A straight-up monster bounced up from his sweatpants, so heavy it looked like it weighed itself away from where it would usually sit closer to his stomach.
You blinked at the slight bend in it and what looked like a scar underneath, then lowered your open mouth to bite your forearm.
He acted like he wasn't looking at your reaction while he plucked a condom from the drawer, but would sometimes glance and never fail to see you still gawking.
"How big is that...?" You whispered. Your eyes were starting to burn from not blinking. Maybe you should've let him stretch you out more.
Kirishima stroked his tortured cock again with a bashful smile, "I-I'm not sure, I've never measured."
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and sat on your heels to make grabby hands at him.
"Let me hold it."
It was only right to let you feel on him, he concluded after a moment's hesitation.
He was such a beautiful man-- that was all you could think as you took his warm cock in your hands, his entire body bare before your eyes.
"You have a scar--?"
"Yeah,"  He choked, tummy flexing, face twisting at your slow pumps, "Yeah, it's- uh--ha, from my Quirk. I was- 13."
That must've been an insane hospital trip. It was a long scar, too. Poor thing.
You pressed a long, slow kiss to the tip, but it was cut short by his flinch away. He played it off before you could dwell on it with a replacement kiss on the mouth, instead.
He put his knee on the mattress, which brought you into the throws of your ignored ache and inspired you to hook your legs over his bulky thighs.
"Anyways, where were we--?"
Kirishima grinned through a playful groan, seizing the back of your thighs to smush into your chest instead, muffling your delighted laughter with another round of deep, albeit rushed, kisses.
His body was extraordinarily heavy; he was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs in this position.
The gasp you took when he shifted his weight off was one of immense relief- yet full of longing for him to return.
There was a smile so distracting in his crimson eyes when he looked up at you that you didn't notice the one giant arm snaked around your hip, the tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips, nor the hook of his fingers under your panties.
"I'll be real careful," He lulled.
Your face grew hot, your heartbeat hastened, at the brief sensation of cold air on your sex. Being the object of intense attention never did get easier, even if he had the goofiest, sharp-toothed smile plastered across his face.
A sharp pang of pleasure hit you like a brick wall. With the messy kisser he was, you should've anticipated his pussy-eating to be just as inconveniently skilled.
"Mm-m, Ah!" You bit the heel of your hand but were robbed of it almost right away.
His free hand trapped your wrist like it was nothing and you felt a smile spreading once more at your useless attempts to free it.
You settled for fixing his long hair up and out of the way, since he had absolutely no intention of helping the cause, and let him slide his rough, heavy hands onto the back of your thighs.
"Mm-mmn," You whimpered at the mercy of his tongue and resolve to get you as slippery as he possibly could, with what little patience you both had left.
He was so good that you didn't care if he'd practiced on a million other girls before you, as long as he just kept edging his tongue around your clit like that.
The man used little to no force to press your thighs up further. His big, warm palms engulfed your hamstrings like they were nothing. Your heart fluttered at the sight.
It was only embarrassing for a moment, because the way he kept lapping at you was downright sinful.
One hand slid down your thigh- you watched as he slicked up two of his middlemost fingers down to the knuckle. Given that his fingers were so long and thick, it was strangely hot watching that happen. He really did keep surprising you.
"I knew you'd taste s'fuckin sweet," He mumbled against your cunt before getting a good position with his hand and sucking at your skin once more.
An uncontrollable whine caught in your throat at the slur in his speech and how easily you took his fingers. Your thighs flexed and twitched as he pumped, nice and slow, filling you up as far as he could reach.
"Oh my- god," Your moans were just noise to you at this point- catching your breath was difficult when your body was in such a state of bliss.
He seethed with a boyish laugh against your bitten-up thigh, "You're takin' me so well- That feel good?"
No man could compare to Kirishima's methodical, yet passionate care around your pleasure.
You gasped as he slipped a third finger in- just as you got accustomed to the stretch of the other two. It's like he could feel for himself when you needed more. And he always had more.
No coherent words that could escape your mouth. He made eye contact with you that you couldn't seem to look away from. He wore a sympathetic grin, understanding that you couldn't tell him just how good you felt with just how far gone you looked.
The tension in your belly was growing all too quickly- you'd be useless if you came now.
But he was so lost in it. You had to tug pretty hard on him to get him to yield. He stalled and you finally found your breath.
"Eij- I," You gasped at his quick grin that gave way to a long, gentle kiss to your clit, "a-Ah-Ha- okay-mm, stop, sto-op-,"
He sighed and slowly earned his pruny fingers back- he made sure to lick every bit of you off of them before he rose to meet you for a tender, but still very messy, kiss.
His cock weighed heavy between you, but it felt much more achievable of a goal now.
If you weren't ready for him now, you'd never be. What was this? Like at least an hour of foreplay?
You were shaky and weak as he lined himself up with your sex after sliding on a condom.
"Let me know if it's too much-," He used his free hand to hold your face, not giving you anywhere else to stare but his attentive gaze, "I don't wanna hurt you."
It helped that you were feeling so empty prior- because as he pushed past your entrance, the realization hit you that you never felt so stretched past your limits before.
A couple taps kept you in the land of the living. You blinked slowly up at him with a bitten lip, practically drunk on the feeling of being split on his cock.
"Y'don't talk much, d'ya?" He huffed, swallowing his own pleasure to keep responsible for yours.
It goes without saying the guy couldn't bottom out without hitting your cervix- and that was a drastically different endeavor depending on the woman, so he didn't attempt it.
You didn't notice.
Lines blurred between discomfort and acute pleasure as soon as he felt you relaxed enough to stuff his thick shaft further into your tight body.
"Can't've fucked ya dumb already," He drawled with a feverish, dirty look in his eyes.
He seethed as your body responded, your thighs tightening around him, tummy stirring at the stretch and that probe of a comment.
You gave a playful grin at how he easily spread your thighs apart, his cock able to stuff you better without your unnecessary flexing.
A gasp racked you at the sensation and you leaned your head back with a whine.
He gave your hip a pinch when you kept trying to make him do it again. He was intrigued at your reactions, and more than willing to oblige with how good you were at taking him.
"Mm-mm, you've gotta open up for me, pretty girl," He lowered himself to drown you in a rough kiss.
You just couldn't catch your breath with him inside of you- like there was no room for air in your lungs when your entire body felt like it was filled with him. A sleepy smile roused at his occasional force.
Soon, with your mouth as a distraction, his pace grew to a less kind speed.
"Mmn-Ah! God-," You yelped, sounds soon to be covered by a firm, calloused hand.
"Shhh," He grinned just briefly- it was overshadowed by a grimace of intense pleasure, "A-ah, you're way too loud."
The incredulous look on his face explained that he clocked exactly how you liked to be fucked as soon as he put it in. There was a reason you went for big guys.
"nd' way too tight for me," He added with an honest groan.
He was slowly sinking into you. All 290 pounds of him. You felt lightheaded, like you were getting pounded to Cloud 9 with the most handsome, blurry face as all you could see.
The hand he used to keep you silent slipped. His hips stalled for a moment.
He asked you something but you couldn't hear it. All you gave was another whimper at his hesitation when you were just getting there. You didn't realize you had been crying until he wiped one away with the rough pad of his thumb.
You blinked away the sting.
"'M fine," You mumbled, smiling at his concern, "You jus'feel so good..."
Another surprised expression could be briefly seen in his eyes, while an excited smile still remained plastered to his jaw.
You were the little freak of his dreams. A match made in heaven.
It was the final confirmation he needed to really put his dick to good use.
Nice and pliable now, you reveled in his slick, heavy body crushing you into his mattress. His hands slid under your ass, a brutal grasp as he picked up pace and force to how you preferred.
No room to move, hardly enough air to keep you intelligible, and fucked senseless under him. Exactly how you fantasized in your own bed right after you first met him.
His grunts and groans at the mercy of your tight cunt were so clear against your ear, his forehead against the sheets.
He kept your adorable sounds muffled with his hulking shoulder in your useless bite.
"Fuck-- a-h, f-uck," A subtle, clipped whine at the end of his curse stroked your ego a bit.
One hand came up to support his weight and fist a section of hair, forcing your head to one side.
"A-h!" You whined again, but this time he smiled at it.
His bottom hand slid to one hip with a brutish squeeze as he brought you down on his cock. The grip on your scalp was electrifying and reassuring all in one.
"Feels so fucking good," He groan-laughed, "God, you--Mmn-! Got such a good pussy,"
You were swimming in the buzz of your climbing orgasm. Drunken, whimpery sounds were coming out of you, but you couldn't register them. His shaky affirmations served as stepping stones towards the strongest build-up you've had in a long, long time.
It crashed over you without more than a mere second's warning-- your nails dug deep trenches down his well-muscled back, as you came hard around his cock.
Your loud mouth was no longer muffled or of his concern other than wanting everyone in the building to hear how fucking good he made you feel.
He watched your body squirm and tremble under him in adulation; he fucked you to completion, but no more.
Tired, weak, and shaky, you had no room to respond to him pulling out of you, his lack of orgasm, or his cuddly shushing. He brought you back down gently, with no pressure, or judgement.
Your head was pressed to his oversized chest, a grounding hand scratching lightly in your hair.
A light, soft blanket over your prickly skin settled you at last. His big, puppy dog eyes met yours with enthusiasm as you peered up at him.
"You're so cool."
Somehow, that compliment stunned you the most out of all his endearing habits and sayings.
His bitten-lip smile matched your embarrassed giggle. "What're you talking about?"
"Just, aah," He showed off those pointy teeth you just couldn't get enough of. You watched them in a delightful and soft daze, "You're so-o good! I've just..."
A bashful sigh, though the graceless palm on your bruising hip didn't express such modesty, "Never been with someone who... could..."
He trailed off. It could've meant many things.
He was a master at keeping his experiences vague, though you could tell it wasn't intentional.
The softness behind his lashes, the speed in which he let up on your hip at your subtle wince, and the hesitancy that characterized him this whole night helped you understand.
The partners he must've been with before-- he probably hurt them. Badly enough to carry that guilt with him to now.
"You made it easy," You slid up to give him a peck on his stubbly chin. "You...take good care of me."
Your body raised as his chest swelled with pride. It threw you a bit off balance, so you slid to lay yourself on top of him, slow and steady. The comfort of his big, warm body was unparalleled.
"We're," Kirishima's rumbly voice tugged you out of a light slumber, "Totally dating now, right?"
His voice didn't sound entirely sure.
You chuckled and rubbed an eye, "Mmm, you still--," A big yawn made him giggle, "Gotta take me to dinner."
He squished a big kiss to the top of your head. Hulking arms linked back over you for extra warmth to let you sleep a while longer.
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taglist:
@dough-yo-bu @yellowflowerbub @fairywriter-oracle @kirismoon
@kwiwin @cringingmemeries @leo6472 @nijha2tact @lotusstarr @straows
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dinogoofymutated · 8 months ago
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I absolutely adore how you write Kurt,
Could you write something for Kurt being concerned for an overworked reader?
And or a reader that struggles with sleep?
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SFW!Nightcrawler/GN! Reader The amount of comfort that this man gives me UGH! He's just so caring and sweet, but I worry about him :( He's been the therapist friend in basically every episode in 97' and he deserves some comfort too so I added basically the reverse version of these headcannons at the end as well! Sorry I didn't end up writing anything for sleep, I've written a fic with some sleep struggle themes here but I might end up writing some seperate headcannons for that later! TWs: Themes of burnout/exhaustion. Mentions of the Genosha attack and Remy's death/funeral, religious themes. As always, reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned. I'm doing my best with adding German dialect while Kurt speaks but I'm not super knowledgeable, so let me know if there's something I need to change!
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Kurt makes it his absolute mission to make sure you're always taken care of. Food, emotional support, laundry, dishes, Hell, he'd give you the sun and stars if you needed them. He just cares about you so much, and he never wants you to feel like you're alone in this world.
This being said, when he feels that you're overworking yourself, he's not afraid to let you know.
When he first starts to notice it, He'll check in on you more often. He'll pull you into a hug and give you kisses and he'll only leave when you reassure him that you're perfectly fine.
If you're still overworking yourself after this, he will outright tell you that he loves you, but you need a break. You can't go on like this and he's concerned about you. He doesn't purposely give you the sad puppy eyes, but seriously, how could you think about saying no to that face?
He really likes to brush his hands through your hair when he's trying to help you relax. He'll move your head into his lap on the couch and hum you softly to sleep. He might take you to bed, but he won't wake you up unless he absolutely has to. He won't go as far as to turn off your alarms, but he just wants you to rest.
However, if you know you're overworking yourself but still refuse to let yourself stop, or take a break, he's going to be a little more "aggressive".
    Your computer screen is giving you a migraine, you feel like you want to tear your brain out of your head, and plainly? You just can’t sit still. You had been in this spot for about six hours straight. The last time you actually got up was to eat dinner, and even then you had only relaxed for what, thirty minutes? You can’t really remember.
    You sigh deeply, leaning back in your chair as you massage your temples. Working for the budding country of Genosha was certainly not for the weak. You needed to have this paperwork finished and faxed before the end of the week so that talks of Genosha entering the U.N. could continue. It was such a hefty amount, but it was necessary. Everyone else had done their part, and all you had to do was make corrections, edit, and make sure everything was in top shape. You’d been working on it for about three days straight, and with the finish line in sight, you didn’t want to stop now. 
    Oh, but your head hurts so bad, and you feel like you're starving. You look from your computer to your copy machine and the huge stack of mostly finished paperwork on your desk. You just want it to be over with, you decide it’s best if you just push through.
    “You haven’t moved from that spot since lunch,” You hear Kurt state. He comes around the side of your chair to brush some stray locks away from your forehead, and you do your best to give him a smile, although it’s obvious the expression is pained.
    “I didn’t hear you come in.” Your voice comes out a little gravelly from being silent most of the day. Kurt’s hands begin to gather your hair and caress the back of your neck lovingly. His hands feel good, grounding. You close your eyes to appreciate the feeling and miss the sight of Kurt’s frown.
    “Let’s get you to bed, Liebchen. I can tell your head hurts.” Kurt’s tone is gentle, although displeased, and it makes you feel guilty when you shake your head and pull away, leaning forward as you restack the paperwork on your desk.
    “I can’t. I’m almost done with this whole U.N. thing and the sooner it’s over, the better.” You mumble stubbornly. Kurt shakes his head at you, pulling your rolling chair away from the desk before you can get your hands on something else. You don’t even have the energy to express your shock as Kurt takes the papers out of your hands, using the table to straighten them before placing them in their proper place. He tuts at you as he does so, and continues to save your files and power down the computer despite your protests.
    “My apologies, love, but I won’t let you rot in this room for another moment. I understand how important this work is to you. Giving Genosia a voice that the world can hear is a very noble cause, and yet it is still a cause that can wait till tomorrow, Ja?” You open your mouth to attempt to protest again, but your head hurts so bad, and you are so tired. Kurt takes your hands to help you out of your chair, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls you into a gentle hug.
    “Okay. But-” You don’t finish your sentence before Kurt is tucking your face into his shoulder, sparing you the view as he Bamfs you away. When he lets you go, you’re standing in your bedroom. You’re thankful that he spared you the sights, knowing that it would have just made your head worse- but it didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t been remotely done in the office.
    “-I still need to lock up, Kurt.” You start to say, but he’s gone in a puff of smoke before you can even finish the sentence. When he makes it back a few minutes later, Kurt sends you a cheeky smile, lifting his tail to show you the keys he must’ve snagged from your pocket earlier. 
    “Did you-”
    “Lock the file cabinet? Yes. And I turned off your lamp, and closed the curtains before I locked the door.” Kurt kisses your temple as he sits you down on the bed, beginning to take your shoes off. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you taken care of.” You feel like your heart might explode with the overwhelming fondness you’re feeling right now. When he’s done with your shoes, he carefully helps you undress and change into pajamas, something he knows you struggled with when you were as exhausted as you are now. He makes sure to tuck you into bed before he himself goes to change. It doesn’t matter how much pain you felt at this point, when he crawled into bed you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up close to him, pressing tired kisses to whatever part of him you could reach. Kurt simply chuckles, pulling you into an embrace as he whispers sweet encouragements for you to sleep.
    “Kurt?”
    “Yes, Meine Liebe?”
    “ ‘Think you could Marry me?”
Now just because Kurt will do everything in his power to keep you from reaching the point of burnout, doesn't mean that he himself will stop from reaching that point.
Kurt is a genuinely good person, right to the core. He likes helping people, he likes to care for others, but he doesn't always ask for help when he needs it. It's not that he doesn't have emotional intelligence for his own feelings, he just tends to soothe himself by assisting others. Even then, to an extent, that's not healthy coping. There is only so much someone can carry alone.
After the attack on Genosha, there was a lot of work that had to be done- and Kurt, being a familiar and dependable face in the many religious communities, was needed constantly in a tumultuous time when many turned to religion.
It's been a struggle for the two of you, much of your time together being cut short in one way or another, and the longer you spent away, the more worried you became.
It all came to a head after Remy's funeral.
    Remy’s funeral was… Rough. To say the least. No one was coping very well, especially not Jubilee. You had walked out to the cars with the group after the last of the dirt had been laid, making sure to give her a tight hug. The X-men were the only real family she had ever had, and now she had lost a brother. You had let her sob for a moment, listening to her cries and the sounds of doors, opening and closing. 
    When everyone had loaded up and was ready to head out, you noticed that Kurt wasn’t there. You told everyone that you would catch up. You had a feeling you knew where he would be.
    You find Kurt in an empty church. He’d shed his outermost robes at some point, and was sitting silently on a pew. His eyes are closed and his hands folded, praying. You don’t disturb him as you sit down, simply reaching a hand out and placing it on his knee, squeezing it to let him know you were there. When he finishes, he places his hand over your own, opening his eyes as he looks down. His tears are flowing freely, and he leans into your touch when you wipe them from his cheeks.
    “I’ve been told that there is strength in a man that freely mourns, but… It’s silly. I can’t help but wish that I was stronger.” Kurt’s almost whispering as he speaks. You feel a lump form in your throat, your stinging eyes welling with tears for the countless time today. It hurts so unbelievably to see someone you love hurting so much, knowing that there is so little that you can do to make the pain go away, even if the loss is shared.
    “It’s not silly. I think that a lot of people feel the same- especially right now.” You say. You take hold of his left hand, tracing the cool metal band on his finger. You compare it to the one you wear, and find yourself thankful that the hand that bears his is still warm. You think of Rogue and Remy. The life they could’ve had together, if only they had been given more time. 
    You lean your head on Kurt’s shoulder, and he rests his head on top of your own. 
    “You don’t have to carry it alone.” You whisper eventually. Kurt says nothing, lacing his fingers between yours. “I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve carried so much on your shoulders- but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” Kurt laughs lightly at your words, squeezing your left hand before lifting it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
    “You are a gift that I’m not entirely sure I deserve, my love,” Kurt says. You scoff at him, frowning now as you look up to meet his eyes.
    “Lying is a sin, Kurt.” You say playfully. His smile is blinding, and you gasp as Kurt Wagner of all people rolls his eyes at you. 
    “Even if it was a lie, which it isn’t, as long as I have you near, Schatz, Heaven will be in reach.”
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tiredspacedragon · 15 days ago
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Ranking the Metru Kanoka symbols by intelligibility
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#1. Ko-Metru: First place goes to Ko-Metru for a fantastically clear image representing the district. The clearly discernible shape of the Knowledge Towers, the Metru's most iconic feature, even cleverly arranged to match the silhouette of the the Coliseum on the Metru Nui skyline, and the two dots on the sides possibly representing Metru Nui's dual suns/moons, emphasizing Ko-Metru's focus on astronomy, astrology, and all else to do with tracking the motion of the heavens. It doesn't get much better than this, folks.
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#2. Le-Metru: Coming in at a close second place is Le-Metru, its symbol instantly recognizable as a collection of Chutes filled with cargo, a simple and elegant means of of showing of Le-Metru's status as the transportation hub of the city. Straightforward and to the point, exactly what we want to see.
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#3. Onu-Metru: Third place starts to get a little more abstract, but the artistic intent remains fairly clear. The Onu-Metru symbol appears to depict a hallway of the Archives, with exhibits on either side and a steady stream of Matoran visitors and/or workers filing through the corridor. It is slightly less obvious than the two above, but if understood correctly, it is an excellent representation of exactly what Onu-Metru is all about.
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#4. Po-Metru: Fourth place is where we start to see these symbols go off the rails, and where I'm going to have to start providing visuals to illustrate my interpretations. Po-Metru's symbol had me stumped for a long time. It is carved in the notch that held the Po-Metru Great Disk, but that isn't much to work with. I think I've finally figured it out though. I believe it speaks to the Po-Matoran's sculpture work, specifically one of their favourite subjects: maskless faces.
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To my eye, the Po-Metru symbol appears to be six of these^ pieces arranged in a circle, or at least faces of similar shape. If that is indeed the case, then I commend the artistry, and the choice to use it as Po-Metru's symbol, as using the Po-Matoran's art to represent them is perfect. However it loses points for being less immediately recognizable than the preceding three symbols.
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#5. Ga-Metru: And in fifth place, Ga-Metru veers further into obscurity. While simple and elegant, this symbol lacks any easily recognizable features to connect it to aspects of Ga-Metru's culture or architecture. At best, I can offer theories.
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Perhaps the top-heavy shape of the blue section is in reference to the Ga-Metru lighthouses? It's possible, but seems unlikely as the shape is not an exact match and only bears superficial similarities.
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Then perhaps the connected circles represent the connected pathways here at the Protodermis Falls, and likely across many other of the Metru's canals? Or even the long bridge from the coast to the island where the Great Temple sits? These possibilities seem more likely to me, but not enough to say it is either for certain. Regardless, the fact that the best I can do is offer some maybes is enough to land Ga-Metru squarely at the bottom of the list, kept out of last place only by...
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#6. Ta-Metru: What is this. What-- What am I even looking at here? Is that a disk launcher? An eclipse? Is it meant to be the foundries pumping out the clouds? Is it an extreme close up of Lhikan's Hau or some other mask?
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I don't know, I just don't know. I'll grant you that out of all six Metru, Ta-Metru is the most lacking in terms of iconography; the Great Furnace is not a terribly inspired building, nor are molten Protodermis vats exactly visually striking, but there had to be something that could have been done. If it is meant to be a mask, that's actually a fantastic idea. Kanohi are Ta-Metru's primary export, they'd be the perfect way to represent the Metru. But if it is a mask (zoomed in way too far), it's not at all recognizable as one, or as anything else for that matter. And had all six Metru's symbols been similarly abstract, that wouldn't be a problem! There's nothing wrong with a good old-fashioned Shape. But when at least three of the other symbols do such a quality job of showing off aspects of life and work in their Metru, Ta-Metru's symbol being so undefined places it firmly at the bottom. Last place.
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theonottsbxtch · 24 days ago
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THE COME DOWN PT 2 | LN4
an: i'd like to preface this by saying this is not everyone's cup of tea and warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse and overdose, so if you're not comfy reading this, step back now! if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!
wc: 3.8k
warnings: substance abuse, overdose and mentions of death
part one
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The flat was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old pipes and the distant hum of traffic outside. She sat cross-legged on Oscar’s bed, wearing one of his oversized hoodies that smelled faintly of cedar and something else distinctly him. Her bag sat untouched in the corner; she hadn’t bothered unpacking, too afraid that settling in even slightly would mean acknowledging the enormity of what she’d done. Leaving Lando. Leaving everything behind.
Oscar was in the kitchen. She could hear the clatter of mugs and the low hiss of the kettle as he made tea, always keeping his hands busy to avoid saying too much. He had a way of filling silence that was considerate, like he understood she needed time and space but couldn’t leave her to drown in her thoughts.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She ignored it. It wasn’t as though anyone important would be calling her, and she couldn’t stomach the idea of hearing Lando’s voice, slurred or otherwise. The last time still replayed in her mind, a cacophony of anger, confusion, and shame. She pulled the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands and pressed her fists to her temples, willing the memory away.
Oscar appeared in the doorway, balancing two steaming mugs. His face was a study in quiet concern, his dark eyes scanning her as though trying to decipher what she wasn’t saying.
“Chamomile,” he said, setting a mug on the bedside table. “It’s good for relaxing. Not that I think you need it,” he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “But, you know, just in case.”
She offered him a small smile. “Thanks, Osc.”
He stood there for a moment, uncertain, before finally retreating to the sofa in the other room. He hadn’t asked her why exactly she called him three nights ago looking like a ghost of herself. He didn’t need to. Oscar had always been like that—a safe harbour. Dependable. Steady. A friend.
She leaned back against the pillows, clutching the mug in her hands and letting the warmth seep into her fingers. The flat was so different from Lando’s. No art on the walls, no clutter, no hint of chaos or indulgence. It was simple and unpretentious, much like Oscar himself. For the first time in what felt like years, she felt like she could breathe.
But the guilt lingered, gnawing at her. She’d left Lando. Not just walked out, but abandoned him when he was at his lowest. The memory of his eyes, wide and red-rimmed, flashed through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to cry again. Not now.
The days at Oscar’s flat passed in a blur of silence and borrowed familiarity. She didn’t do much—couldn’t, really. Her thoughts were too loud, her energy sapped by the constant cycle of guilt, anger, and self-recrimination. Most of her time was spent curled up in Oscar’s bed, surrounded by the faint smell of his laundry detergent, trying not to think too hard about anything. It was a losing battle.
Oscar gave her space, which she appreciated. He didn’t hover or press her for answers, but he was always there, lingering at the edges of her solitude, ready if she needed him. Sometimes she found him at the small dining table in the corner of the living room, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.
Tonight was one of those nights. She wandered out of his room with the cup of tea he’d given her. He glanced up when she padded into the living room but didn’t say anything, just offered a small, welcoming smile before returning to his book. She sat down opposite him, curling her legs beneath her, and watched him in the soft glow of the table lamp.
The book must have been gripping because his brow furrowed slightly, and he turned the pages with an almost reverent care. She noticed the way his fingers brushed the edges, like he didn’t want to crease them. She hadn’t seen him this still in years. But then again, she rarely ever saw Oscar now.
“Good book?” she asked eventually, her voice breaking the comfortable quiet.
He looked up, startled for a second, before the smile returned. “Yeah. Bit dense, though. I’m not sure I actually understand half of it.”
She huffed a small laugh, the first real one in days, and it surprised her. He noticed, too. For a moment, he just looked at her, like he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head and glanced back at the page.
The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t oppressive. She stared at the mug in her hands and her mind wandered—back to Lando, inevitably. To his voice, slurred and sharp; to the way he used to be, before everything went wrong. She wondered if he’d even noticed she was gone.
Oscar’s voice cut through the fog of her thoughts. “You don’t have to stay cooped up in there, you know.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“In the bedroom,” he said, nodding towards the closed door behind her. “You’re welcome out here, anytime. Even if it’s just to sit.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks.”
They sat together like that for a while longer, him reading and her lost in thought. It was strange how easy it was to be with Oscar, even with all the mess she’d brought into his life. She wanted to thank him, to say something to convey just how much it meant that he’d opened his door to her without question. But the words felt too heavy, so she stayed quiet.
Later, when the weight of the day became too much, she retreated to his bed again. She pulled the covers up to her chin, staring at the ceiling, but sleep didn’t come easily. She kept seeing Lando’s face, hearing his voice. Over and over, the same thought clawed at her—I left him.
The phone call came in the early hours of the morning, jolting her awake. She fumbled for the phone on the bedside table, her heart already racing as she answered it.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was barely a whisper, but she recognised it instantly.
“It’s me,” Lando said, his voice cracking.
Her stomach twisted. “Lando? What’s wrong?”
“I… I don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, his words slurring together. Then the line went silent.
“Lando?” she said, louder this time, her voice thick with fear. “Lando, are you there?”
Nothing.
She sat up, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. She knew something was wrong. Her body knew it before her mind caught up. She stumbled out of bed and into the living room, where Oscar was sprawled on the sofa, asleep under a thin blanket. She shook him awake, her urgency spilling over.
“Osc, wake up,” she said, her voice shaking.
He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Lando. I think something’s happened. We need to go. Now.”
Oscar blinked himself awake, shaking off the haze of sleep as he sat up on the sofa. The urgency in her voice jolted him fully alert. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice low but sharp with concern.
“It’s Lando,” she said, pacing in frantic, uneven steps across the room. Her hands were shaking. “He called me, and something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but we have to go. Now, Osc. Please.”
Oscar frowned, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Wait, slow down. What did he say?”
“He didn’t—he barely said anything. But I know him. Something’s wrong.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she stopped pacing, fixing him with a desperate look. “Please, Osc. We can’t waste time.”
He didn’t ask any more questions. He grabbed his keys from the table and pulled on his jacket. “Let’s go.”
The drive was a blur of adrenaline and recklessness. Oscar’s McLaren roared through the city streets, the tyres screeching as he ignored red lights and zipped through gaps in traffic that barely existed. She sat rigid in the passenger seat, clutching the edge of the seat with white-knuckled hands, her eyes fixed on the road ahead as though willing them to go faster.
“What’s his flat number again?” Oscar asked, his voice tight.
“Four. Top floor.”
When they reached the building, she was out of the car before he’d even fully stopped. She tore up the stairs two at a time, her breath coming in gasps, the blood pounding in her ears. Oscar was right behind her, keeping pace as she reached the fourth floor and darted to Lando’s door. She banged on it with both fists.
“Lando!” she shouted, her voice echoing down the empty hallway. “Open the door! It’s me!”
Nothing.
“Lando!” She banged harder, the sound reverberating through her skull. The silence on the other side of the door was deafening.
Oscar caught her arm gently, his expression grim. “Move,” he said.
Before she could argue, he planted a foot against the doorframe and slammed his shoulder into the wood. The first hit made it shudder; the second sent it crashing open.
The smell hit them first—a sharp, acrid scent that made her stomach turn. She rushed inside, her eyes darting around the dimly lit flat. “Lando?”
The bathroom door was ajar, and she spotted his legs sprawled on the tiled floor. Her heart stopped. “Oh, God.”
She ran to him, dropping to her knees beside his lifeless form. He was slumped against the tub, his head lolling to the side, his skin pale and clammy. An empty syringe lay on the floor next to him, and his breathing was shallow, barely there.
“Lando,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. “Lando, wake up. Please.”
Oscar appeared in the doorway, his face ashen. “Is he—?”
“Call an ambulance!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Right now, Osc!”
Oscar pulled out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he dialled. She turned back to Lando, tears streaming down her face. She shook him gently, her voice rising in desperation. “You don’t get to do this, Lando. You hear me? You don’t get to give up like this.”
The operator’s voice buzzed faintly from Oscar’s phone as he relayed their location. He crouched beside her, his free hand resting on her shoulder, trying to steady her as she broke down.
“Come on,” she pleaded, her forehead pressed against Lando’s. “You’re not allowed to leave me. Not like this.”
The sound of distant sirens filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. Oscar stayed silent, his grip firm but gentle, grounding her as she crumbled.
In that moment, a bitter realisation struck him—a knife twisting in his chest. No matter how much he wanted to, he could never truly have her. Her heart was still tethered to Lando, even in its shattered, battered state. And as he watched her hold the man who had hurt her in so many ways, he knew it would always be that way.
She, meanwhile, was drowning in her own spiral of guilt. She’d left him. She’d abandoned him when he needed her most. And now, seeing him like this, all she could think was, I’m the reason he’s here. I’m the reason this happened.
The paramedics burst through the door, their presence swift and efficient, but she didn’t move until Oscar gently pulled her away to let them work. She stood frozen, clutching the edge of the sink as they checked Lando’s pulse and prepared a stretcher.
“Will he be okay?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
One of the paramedics glanced at her with a professional calm. “We’re stabilising him. He’s got a chance.”
As they wheeled him out, Oscar stayed close to her side, his arm hovering protectively near her back. They followed the stretcher down the stairs, out into the crisp night air. She couldn’t stop trembling, her mind replaying the scene over and over.
For Oscar, the sight of her clinging to Lando’s hand as he was loaded into the ambulance was a final confirmation of what he’d already known deep down. He would always be the one standing on the sidelines, watching as her heart belonged to someone else.
“Come on,” he said gently, guiding her away from the flashing lights. “Let’s go.”
The ambulance doors slammed shut with a finality that echoed in the pit of her stomach. She stood on the pavement, watching as the vehicle sped away into the night, its siren cutting through the heavy silence. Her arms hung limply at her sides, her chest tight with the weight of too many emotions to name.
Oscar stood a step behind her, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, the tension in his body radiating outwards. He wanted to say something, anything, but he knew better. She needed space, and he wasn’t sure he had the words to make this better, even if she’d let him try.
Finally, she turned to him, her face pale and streaked with tears. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the city. “I can’t believe I left him.”
Oscar frowned. “This isn’t your fault.”
Her eyes snapped to his, the raw guilt blazing in them making him wince. “Isn’t it? I walked out, Osc. I left him. I knew he was falling apart, and I still…” Her voice broke, and she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. “What kind of person does that?”
“The kind of person who couldn’t set herself on fire to keep someone else warm,” he said softly.
She stared at him, her breath hitching, but the words didn’t seem to sink in. She shook her head, taking a step back. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to see someone you love destroy themselves, to feel like you’re all they have, and then to just… leave.”
Oscar’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know?” His voice was quiet but firm. “I’ve been watching you do it. For too long. Staying with him, breaking yourself to pieces trying to save him.”
Her lips parted, but no words came. She just looked at him, stunned, as though the weight of what he’d said was pressing down on her all at once.
“I’m not saying it to hurt you,” Oscar continued, his tone gentler now. “But you need to stop blaming yourself. Lando made his choices. You didn’t make him drink, or use, or…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t make him do this.”
She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself as though trying to hold the pieces together. “I just keep thinking… if I’d stayed, maybe—”
“Maybe you’d have ended up in that ambulance too,” Oscar interrupted, stepping closer. He hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did what you had to do. For yourself. That doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human.”
The tears came then, silent and unrelenting. She leaned into his touch, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was something fragile and precious. She buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled by the fabric of his jacket.
For a moment, Oscar allowed himself to close his eyes and just be there for her. It wasn’t enough—not for her, and not for him—but it was all he could offer.
When she finally pulled away, her face was blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed, but there was a flicker of determination in her expression.
“I need to go to the hospital,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.
Oscar nodded. “I’ll take you.”
The drive to the hospital was quieter, the urgency replaced by a heavy solemnity. She stared out of the window, her mind miles away, while Oscar focused on the road.
When they arrived, the harsh fluorescent lights of the A&E waiting room made everything feel colder. She checked in with the nurse at the desk, explaining who she was there for, and was told to wait.
Minutes turned into hours, and still, they hadn’t heard anything. Oscar sat beside her, his knee bouncing impatiently. She sat perfectly still, staring at the floor, her hands clenched in her lap.
Finally, a doctor emerged, her expression neutral but kind. “Are you here for Lando?”
She shot to her feet. “Yes. How is he?”
The doctor glanced at the clipboard in her hands. “We’ve stabilised him. He was lucky you got to him when you did. Another half an hour, and we might have been having a very different conversation.”
Her knees nearly gave out, and Oscar steadied her with a hand on her arm. “Can I see him?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“He’s still unconscious,” the doctor said. “But you’re welcome to sit with him.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and followed the doctor down the stark, sterile corridor. Oscar stayed behind, giving her space.
Inside the room, Lando looked small against the backdrop of wires and monitors. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was a stark reminder of how close he’d come to losing the fight. She sank into the chair beside his bed, her hands trembling as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from his face.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I shouldn’t have left you.”
But as the words left her mouth, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered something else: You couldn’t have saved him alone.
She sat there for what felt like hours, holding his hand and staring at the fragile rise and fall of his chest. In the doorway, Oscar watched her silently, his face unreadable.
For her, it was a moment of reckoning. For Oscar, it was a moment of heartbreak.
The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence of the hospital room. She sat by Lando’s bedside, her hands trembling as they clutched his limp, lifeless one. He looked fragile under the harsh fluorescent light, a hollow shadow of the man he used to be.
She didn’t know how long she’d been there when his fingers twitched weakly in hers.
“Lando?” she whispered, leaning forward.
He stirred, his eyelids fluttering before slowly cracking open. His eyes were bloodshot, unfocused, but after a moment, they found her. Confusion flitted across his face, followed by something darker. Shame.
“You shouldn’t… be here,” he rasped, his voice thin and raw.
Her breath hitched. “Lando, don’t say that. I was terrified. I thought—” She swallowed hard. “I thought I’d lost you.”
A bitter laugh escaped him, jagged and broken. “Why do you care? You left, remember?” His words cut, even though his voice barely carried above a whisper.
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find the words. She squeezed his hand instead, her own shaking. “I care because you called me. You called me, Lando. You could’ve called anyone else, but you didn’t.”
He looked away, his expression crumpling. “Should’ve called no one. Let it… end.”
“Don’t you dare,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “Don’t you dare say that. You don’t get to give up like that. Not when there are people who still care about you.”
Lando’s gaze drifted past her, to the doorway where Oscar leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his stance, a sharpness in his eyes.
Lando scoffed. “Even him? What, are you here for moral support, Oscar? Come to gloat?”
Oscar’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for her, not you.”
The venom in Lando’s glare was palpable. “Course you are. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Sweep in like a knight in shining armour, acting like you’re better than everyone else.”
“I don’t have to act,” Oscar replied coolly.
“Stop it, both of you,” she snapped, looking between them. “This isn’t about whatever history you two have. Lando, you’re in a hospital bed because you nearly died. Oscar, I didn’t ask you to be here so you could fight with him. This is bigger than that.”
Lando’s gaze flicked back to her, and the defiance faded, replaced by something brittle. He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he murmured. “I didn’t want anyone to.”
“Then stop putting yourself here,” she said, her voice breaking. “Lando, please. You have to get help. You can’t keep doing this.”
He didn’t respond, his face turned away. She felt her throat tighten, but she pushed on, her voice softer now. “I left because I couldn’t keep watching you destroy yourself. I didn’t want to, but I had to. For me. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring. And it doesn’t mean you can’t fix this.”
Lando turned his head slowly, his bloodshot eyes locking with hers. “What if I don’t know how?”
Her heart broke at the quiet, vulnerable question. She squeezed his hand, her tears falling freely now. “Then let someone help you. Let me help you. But you have to try, Lando. Promise me you’ll try.”
Lando’s lips quivered, and after a long moment, he nodded weakly. “I’ll try,” he whispered.
Behind her, Oscar exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. But when Lando’s gaze shifted back to him, the bitterness returned.
“Bet you’ve been waiting for this,” Lando muttered. “The great Oscar Piastri, saving the day again. Must feel nice, huh?”
Oscar stepped forward, his expression hardening. “This isn’t about you, Lando. It stopped being about you the day you threw it all away. The career. The friendship. The team. I stopped caring about you a long time ago. The only reason I’m here is her.”
Lando flinched, and she bristled, turning to Oscar. “That’s enough, Osc.”
But Oscar didn’t back down. “No, he needs to hear it. You’re not my responsibility, Lando. You never were. But you made her yours, and you dragged her down with you. That ends now.”
Lando’s face crumpled, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his hand over his eyes. The sound of his muffled sobs broke something inside her.
“Oscar, stop,” she said firmly, standing. She faced him, her eyes filled with anger and hurt. “I know you’re angry, but this isn’t the time.”
Oscar’s jaw worked, but he nodded curtly, stepping back. “Fine. I’ll be outside.” He walked out without another word.
When she turned back to Lando, his face was wet with tears. “He hates me,” Lando muttered.
She sat down again, taking his hand in hers. “Maybe he does. But I don’t. And that’s why I’m asking you to fight. Not for him. Not even for me. For you.”
Lando didn’t answer, but the faintest nod of his head gave her hope.
In the hallway, Oscar leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the floor. His heart ached with frustration and unspoken words. When she finally emerged, her face pale and drawn, he straightened.
“Is he—”
“He’ll be okay,” she said quietly. “He promised he’d try.”
Oscar nodded, his expression unreadable.
He didn't know how this was going to go, but he wasn't ready to mourn the loss of another friendship because of his old teammate's reckless decisions.
the end.
taglist: @waytooobsessedwithlife@iimplicitt
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facefullofsadness · 10 months ago
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poly!aespa comforting you
gf!aespa x reader, university!au
fluff, 1.6k wc
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quite frankly, I've had a terrible ass fucking day and honestly, the thought of just collapsing into the arms of my 4 gfs is such a pleasant thing to think ab. small warning for mentions of deteriorating mental health. enjoy (I love them so much).
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your classes today span from 7 am to 7 pm, coming back home, however, just before midnight, having had to work on extra assignments or what not. you were so fucking exhausted, you didn't even get good sleep last night and had to wake up early too. your girlfriends were already home, aeri and minjeong in the kitchen while yizhuo and rina cleaned the house, all of them waiting for you to come home.
you'd usually be back by 8 or 9 during these 7-7 days, but once the clock hit 10, your girls started to worry. winselle had already been done a while ago with the food and ningrina had finished cleaning by the time they all realized you hadn't come home yet. jeong immediately texted you, asking if you were okay, a worried expression on her face. the unnies felt their heart drop to their stomach imagining the worst, the two of them exchanging a look of worry. ningyi was borderline hysterical, verbalizing everything wrong that could've happened to you, which ranged from rambling ab if your phone had died or lost signal to if you had gotten into an accident on the way home or someone had taken you.
her hysteria didn't help at all and just made all of them worry even more. rina tried to be level-headed about it and give rational explanations, to which everyone agreed. but the worry didn't subside once it turned 11. they all started becoming paranoid as fuck. and so, rina texted you, aeri called you, jeongie dm'd your socials, and yizhuo contacted all your friends. they had to figure out where you were and most importantly, if you were okay.
when honestly in reality, you just had ur phone on silent, not touching it, just trying to power through all the fucking piles of work you had to finish. when you finally did, you packed your shit and booked it, not even glancing at your phone and b-lining home, wanting to feel the warm embrace of your gfs. you finally made it to the door of your shared apartment, leaning your forehead against the hardwood and sighing. your temples throbbed and eyes heavy with exhaustion, your body barely able to move atp. but you gathered enough energy to dig for your keys and unlock the door.
the girls perked up when they heard the locks rattle. ning raced for the door and swung it open before you could unlock it, colliding her body with yours and burying her face into your winter coat.
"where have you been?!" she would exclaim, voice muffled by your clothes.
"ningie, that's enough, at least let her come in," rina said behind her, pulling both of you inside and closing the door.
she pulled away, and the four girls crowded around you, their eyes full of worry but relief as well. you ignore their gazes and rid of your outerwear, removing your shoes, taking off your bag, and slipping out of your coat. they followed you as you dragged yourself to the living room and collapsed on the couch face first. they all jumped a little when you suddenly screamed into the armrest, letting out your stress and pent up exhaustion.
aeri was the first to reapproach you, pulling your limp body up to face her, her kneeling down beside you on the couch.
"you okay baby?" her voice gentle but lined with so much concern.
you closed your eyes at the feeling of her fingers brushing your hair, suddenly feeling tears well up in your eyes. no, you wanted to say, I'm so overwhelmed and stressed and today fucking sucked. but the sheer amount of exhaustion and dread washed over you, making u unable to respond and also start sobbing softly.
ur quiet cries didn't go unheard, the three other girls standing around you on the couch feeling their heart break at the sight of you, just absolutely shattered. aeri's jaw clenched and her eyebrows dropped, immediately pulling you up against her body, you shoving ur face into her neck. the other girls joined just as fast, feeling minjeong move under you so u sat on her lap, your back being hugged by ning, aeri letting you cry into her.
rina crouched down in front of you and rested her chin on your thigh, holding one of your hands with her own, using her free hand to caress your cheek and brush the hair out of your face. the five of you cuddled in silence, your sweet gfs just letting you release all your pent up emotions, feeling emotional themselves watching you so broken.
you were in such a devastated state, crying and aching, feeling so tired and wanting to sleep but being so fucking hungry that your stomach hurt. but even in this moment, despite barely able to breathe thru ur clogged nostrils, the only thing you're able to hear is white noise and the sound of your hiccups, shaking against gigi's sweater, jeongie's lap, yizhuo's hold, and jimin's hands, god, you felt so loved.
you felt so cared for, so adored, so safe, so comforted, so warm. rina leaving the gentlest kisses on ur leg and hands, aeri placing small pecks on ur forehead and hair, minjeong caressing your skin under your shirt, and ning holding you in the most comforting embrace, mumbling to herself against your back ("oh my sweet sweet girl, I'm so sorry you feel so broken, I love you so much :((("). they felt so good, so sweet, like home.
sitting there for minutes to hours, just holding onto you like their precious baby (you are), never leaving your side for a second, making sure every inch of your body was paid attention to. it made you melt further and further into them, something u needed desperately in this moment (it's also cold as fuck outside). u stopped crying on your own, feeling the tears stain ur cheeks as they slowly stopped falling from your eyes, sniffling to recollect yourself (and not leave gross remnants on ur gf's givenchy sweater).
the sound of ur soft giggle made all of them look at u. you sniffle once, twice, hiccup, before mumbling loud enough onto giselle's skin, "fuck."
they all let out an amused chuckle or sigh, rubbing at your skin, your back, patting your head or hair, anything, anywhere, just touching you and making sure you feel their love and affection for you.
"I hate to ruin your designer aeri..." you pull back slightly away from her neck, bringing a hand up to brush at your nose.
"don't even worry your pretty little head about it my love, are you kidding? I don't care about this, especially not when I have the most precious thing in the world right here," she states so sweetly, kissing ur stained cheeks.
"I wet it..." u hiccup.
"it's not like it's the first time you've cried into this sweater. except, it was for other reasons," aeri snickers next to your ear.
karina scowls, winter grimaces, and ningning bellows with laughter. you playfully hit her shoulder and roll your tired eyes as she smiles at you with that adorable and sweet :] shaped grin of hers. jimin taps your thigh and you look down at her, "tough day?"
you nod your head with a heavy sigh, the two younger girls following it up with rubbing your body caringly.
"you should rest princess, let's get you relaxed, okay?" yizhuo behind you rests her chin on your shoulder and says against your ear, the other girls nodding in agreement.
you let out a silent but audible okay before your girlfriends get to work. helping you get cleaned up and out of your clothes you've been in all day, getting you water and electrolytes to replenish the amount of tears you shed, feeding you dinner, getting you ready to sleep in your bed. they all do this in such blissful and comfortable silence, putting your mind at ease and peace as to not stimulate your overwhelmed form any further. they were so calm and patient with you, speaking softly and treating you gently, making sure you were okay with every little simple yet thoughtful thing they did to and for you.
as the girls discussed silently with one another who would stay with you for the night, your weak voice raised from behind them, immediately grabbing their attention.
"please, I need all of you with me tonight. please stay with me?"
the desperation and sorrow in your voice made their hearts ache. they love you so much, like so fucking much. so of course, they did. all of you cuddled up together in karina's big bed, you snuggled up nice, tight, and warm in the center. the soft noises the girls around you made as they slumbered, making sure they had some part of their body touching yours, never wanting to feel you apart from them.
"sleep baby," minjeong's soft cute voice emerges from the dark, her face digging into your neck and placing the sweetest kisses against your skin, "you deserve every bit of rest in the universe."
a smile creeps onto your face hearing her genuine adoring words towards you. you hum contentedly in acknowledgement, shifting closer to the sleepy girl next to you. drifting off to sleep with an exhausted figure, droopy eyes with dark bags, aching heart, overwhelmed mind, but the bestest girls loving you, right by your side, all yours, all theirs.
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running-with-kn1ves · 11 months ago
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Hi lovely, to celebrate the new year! I was wondering if you could please do a fluff/smut with Cirden.
Does not have to be hardcore smut only a taste!! thank you so much 4 taking the time out of your day and writing we all appreciate your work.
A/N: took it in me to get this done before January ended!! putting this man in the spicy is so bittersweet b/c it feels so wrong (but so right). And thank you for your kindness!! Lord knows I've been needing some grace. Thank you for being so sweet I'm glad people actually see my stuff <33
CW: NSFW/SMUT, public(?) doing the dirty in the woods, hunting, elf X reader, established marriage
WC:2.8k
Gender Neutral Reader X Male Elf husband
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"Raagghh. I haven't caught ANYTHING..." One of your arrows lands in the dirt, it's blade skinning against the ground before it fell flat. You couldn't even manage to stab a lizard that blundered past you, it's skittering body running as your arrow slumped.
"Don't get discouraged," Cirdan mumbled with unmoving lips, focused on the prey only a few meters in front of him. "It's only your first time with a bow and arrow."
He still managed to whisk away your heart in his crouched battle stance as you curled on the forest floor, his arrow flying as it released with a snap. The harsh squeak of a cottontail broke the silence of the ancient trees, a fatal jump being it's last movement before it succumbed to the ground in a helpless flop. Your husband moved forward without you to slice it's throat. You looked away in shame; he had been hunting for your dinners ever since your joint movement into the cottage currently a mile away; he had cut the heads off deer and ducks while you sat back and covered your eyes. You couldn't even shoot down a bird, not only from your poor aim but your heart lurched everytime you saw its feathered breast beat with life, its beak release a hymn of song. Every now and again you could garner the courage to help him defeather or clean the bones of his latest catch but when seeing their heads or lifeless eyes, it made your insides churn.
It was dispiriting, knowing you couldn't provide in the way he had learned to do since he was a child. But by Gods and Goddesses, did he not look fine holding that bow and pulling back its string, showing the strength in his chest and the unwavering focus in his grey-blue eyes. You memorialized the image in your head, toes scrunching deep in your sewn leather boots (created by cirdan and his many talents) with your knees pushed together, gaze focused on the ground.
"Whats wrong?"
You looked up from your place in the dirt and dead leaves, your spouse like a pretty ice mountain that you had to strain upwards to see. He placed three dead bunnies by their ears into the sack that was once on his back; if he were alone, he would've just carried them by hand back to the cottage.
"Nothing, I was just... thinking. It's beautiful out here."
You looked up at the canopy of trees, dappled light speckling between the small empty holes that neither branch nor bushy leaves covered to block the evening sun.
Cirdan bent down, placing his sack on the ground as a warm hand came to cover the top of your head. A calloused palm pushed your hair back, patting you with deadweight.
You couldn't see the rest of him with his gigantic arm in the way, his voice like an omniscient invisible God of the forest. 
"Don't worry if you can't hunt...I'll do enough for the both of us," His palm slid to your cheek in a messy fashion, attempting to be heedful of how firm his touch was, too used to handling his bow with untamed strength for the day. His hand was a pillow on your cheek as he pressed his thumb against your temple. "It's my job to take care of you."
He spoke as if mostly to himself, thin silver lashes disguising his eyes while he watches your lips with a small, almost unnoticeable quiver. But he didn't waver as you stared back, gaze running from his deep pupils to his strong nose bridge, down to his dripping jugular.
It was tension inside you and it was unbearable. It took choking yourself back to not scream "just kiss me, dammit!"
But elves weren't the hasty type,(especially your aloof husband), and you didn't know what Cirdan would think if you came forward so hungrily. Would he think you were just some lust-crazed old bat that replaced the careful spouse he once knew?
"Come, let's go back; the wind is picking up. I won't let you catch a cold."
The forest was all but blowing, a leaf tumbling every now and again but practically silent. And yet, who were you to argue with the seasoned elf who had survived in forests like this?
You took the outstretched hand cirdan put in front of you, allowing him to practically lift you to your feet as your bow held limply in your other hand with defeat. Alas, another day with no progress in conquering your woodland fear.
You let Cirdan lead you, following him past old oaks and emptied burrows, unable to keep your wide eyes off of him. It was nice, to distract your disappointed mind from your empty game sack to the hauntingly beautiful portrait of the manly elf before you.
"What is it?" Cirdan stopped, looking at you with those long locks covering his scarred eye, the other staring with a darkened brow.
"Nothing!" You'd repeat, looking away with your antsy feet bouncing, hoping he'd somehow read the growing need inside of you. And this carried on a countless too many times before you saw the clearing that led to the desire path back home.
What were you to say? That you wanted him here and now? That you wished he'd just smile and hold you and tell you to take off your hunting clothes and everything underneath as soon as you got back home? Yeah, right. As if the stoic beast that you married would be so forward, as hopeful and desiring as you.
You sneaked glances, learning better than before when aiming to witness the veins in his forearm that traveled to the hand interlocked with yours, the pants that fit his slightly toned ass just right. Gods, were you really so sinful? But, was it so wrong to want your husband, to think of him panting above you and his beautiful thighs encasing you with heartache and hunger?
Cirdan stopped again. You were about to tell him now this time you really weren't looking but he didn't face you, instead dropping his bag along with an unused set of arrows accompanying his bow.
"I think... I understand."
You tilted your head at him, maybe at a poor attempt to get him to look at your cute side.
"I'm supposed to do more than...be a a simple protector."
You would've pressed for more information, if it weren't for the oddly timed shove towards a nearby tree. Cirdan took the bag from your hands faster than you could ask "what the hell are ya doing," his sharp face only mere inches away and angled as if he was about to kiss you.
But maybe, that was just your imagination, your mind centered only on his smoothened pinkish lips.
"Is this what you wanted...?"
The elf brute inched down, nudging your nose with a deep exhale. His hands engulfed yours, holding them down at your sides as he pressed his lips snuggly to your cupids bow.
The sheer power of his face pushed your skull against the tree; along with it a warm, humid hand came from behind to press along the curve of your back. His pointer finger inched, massaging into your tailbone as the elf's thigh quickly entrapped you between he and the old oak.
That hand moved down to the waist of your hunting trousers, digging beneath them to reach more savory skin.
You almost jumped at the slight clutch of your left ass cheek, your husbands eyes shut as he rubbed his forehead against you.
Lost words were grumbled under his breath with a gentle rasp, his other hand leaving your fingers as they braced against the bark of the tree behind you.
"Cirdan-- wha," you tried to figure out what you were feeling, what the right thing to do would be. Which was, to tell him that this was not the right place, nor the right time. But that gentle nudge of his tented crotch against your leg made any thoughts of lucidity drift.
"Want you..." He spoke, barely above a hum. "Isn't this, what you needed? Looking at me, at my..."
"Don't finish that sentence," you warned, unable to meet his gaze as he softly squinted open his eyes. "Maybe so but--! Right here?? Right now? In the woods?! Even I'm not desperate enough to make us do it...here."
"No creatures come to the edge of the woods... too smart for that. We're too far away for any hunters to venture close enough." You could see even he wasn't one to normally suggest this idea; but if anyone knew this forest, it was him. "Besides, said I want to take care of you.. did you not think I'd follow through on that..?"
"But, wait, I mean-" you nearly whined, hardly able to contain yourself with the hand massaging your backside, the fat of his buldge grinding into your quadricep. He was almost as bad as the rabbits he so skillfully caught, their known libidinous currently rivaling his own.
It was still atleast a 15 minute walk back to the cottage when following the path directly back. Could you make it that long? If not, could you bare the anxiety of having him bend you over in the woods completely out in the open?
"I didn't know you were so... pent up." You choked. "I mean, you're not just doing this for me, right?"
Who were you kidding? He was practically rubbing on you like a fox in heat.
"Please don't make me beg." He looked at you directly, finding your lost-at-sea eyes that had been rapidly searching for any creature or holy figure nearby witnessing you and your husbands' immoralities. He wasn't whining nor desperate but rather asking you, to please, not make him put himself even lower at your mercy-- if that was even possible.
His directness caught you off guard; sure, you had been on the edge of ripping your clothes off and throwing yourself at him but-- to have him beat you to the punch?
You couldn't help yourself when he leaned in, his soft locks brushing against your shoulder as the tip of his pink tongue swiped your lower lip, his confidence having grown since the first time you made love to him in the dark.
You opened your mouth greedily, nearly starvingly so as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. How could you say no, when he asked you so genuinely, when your groin ached to be caressed by him?
With the confession of your open mouth and the lewd noises of your labored breaths, Cirdan moved quicker than with the normal diligent pace he tended to do everything with. In a split second your leg was wrapped around his hip, his large hand rubbing gently at the front zipper of your trousers, reaching in deep between your legs to get a good cup full o' you. 
You couldn't just ignore the cries of his loins as he lunged forward, desperate for your affection. You undid the two buttons holding the elf's own wood-colored slacks up. They drooped only slightly to show the clean grey of his happy trail, your palm digging in to reach for the stiff piece that craved a special touch.
It slid out so easily, his tip warm against your wrist. You couldn't help but watch him leak just a bit, slightly hard as a thin vein pulsed under your thumb.
"Gods please...I said t'not make me beg." He muffled in your ear, taken aback uncharacteristically as you stroked with the intent to milk him for all he had.
It was so cute and fat, the small grey-white hairs of the front of his cock leading down to his crowned jewels, making you appreciate the differences between humans and elves. His pointed ears twitched upward as he practically foamed at the mouth against your neck. A gentle palm came to push your shoulder against the tree with simplicity.
Without unzipping, cirdan shifted to pull your pants and undergarments down to your knees; in a matter of two seconds he managed to strip you half naked. Your hand was pulled away from the elf, interlocked instead with his fingers as your bare thigh was hoisted further up against his naked hip.
His chest pressed up against you as he slowed to get inside, looking at you with glazed over, hooded eyes. He didn't look away, he couldn't. There was something about the sweat at the corner of your brow, your slightly ajar lips that kept him going, entering inside of you with raw cock and raw determination, awaiting to see that expression of nearful ecstasy that would wash away all the neediness you had been experiencing.
You didn't know how he could do it, stare at you so intently without any break away while you sweated under his gaze. If he wasn't currently bottoming out inside of you right now, you would've felt like you were under interrogation. You both huffed simultaneously once your hole swallowed up the entirety of him, your right leg limp over his thigh as he pressed you up further against the tree.
"Feel okay?" Cirdan panted, and you could see he was barely keeping himself at bay. What a gentleman, controlling himself from fucking you blind-- not that you would've minded the latter, of course.
You responded in turn by grinding down on him, rolling your hips forward to have that needy, hungry and achingly thirsty spot become just a little farther quenched.
It was difficult to not throw your head back and scream, feeling so warm and full as you gripped the back strands of the elfs hair.
With the time you had spent with him you realized Cirdan wasn't much of a grunter, preferring unconsciously to huff and pant and wordlessly suck through his teeth when he was inside of you. If you were lucky, you'd get to see him furrow his brows in exasperation, frowning as if he was concentrating hard on something important and not just from rocking into you. The challenging part about being his first lover however, was that he was still learning not to finish in the first few seconds of plunging inside.
"Ill.. n'take care of yo..u" he muttered, lifting your hips as your bare ass scraped against the bark of the tree. "Take care so good..."
You would've laughed at his drunken fervor if you didn't find it so endearing, the urge to stick your tongue into his heated cavern of a mouth washing over you like a wave.
Cirdan accepted the kiss greatfully, placing a hand behind your head to grace your thump against the tree. You could hear the branches shake, a stray dead leaf falling on the top of your head as he rutted forward, your own pelvic floor pushing against his thrusts. The elf's nose smushed against the side of your own, lips practically consuming one another as his lashes brushed your cheek. Sweat formed on your back dripping to your legs, but you didn't care. It felt too good, your senses only focusing on where he was caressing or what would be next, the cold breeze reminding you that you were still outside.
That fear remained in the back of your mind, your eyes occasionally opening and scanning the forest that you could see beyond Cirdan. But there was nothing, nothing but the trees and dead fallen logs blocking pathways.
Your kisses drifted away as you saw a hunched over deer, somewhat 10 paces away with its head burrowed in a bush.
Cirdan slowed, the deep drilling inside of you now merely a thick discomfort of occasional thrusts. He could feel you were getting lost in your worry, your grip on his shoulders loosening.
"Ma’sal’shiral," he grabbed your chin, turning you away from the fear of the forest. "Going to make you feel love unlike any creature has known;" he kissed you with wet lips, giving you breath and teeth. "So please, don't turn from me."
The horrible ache in his eyes, the twitch inside of you-- for how torturous it was for yourself, it was just as bad for him. You would've apologized, turned the mood even further south into sourness if he hadn't begun rocking again, holding your back to keep your sensitive skin away from the tree. He huffed into your cheek, pressing hard up against you as he cherished everything he could touch. The deer that once took over your thoughts was now pushed to the edge, your eyes half-shut now that all you could feel was the depth of your husband, his precum mixing with the heat of your hole. The crude sound of skin on skin, the slight slap of elf balls hitting your ass-- it nearly sent your mind into overdrive.
And even with the pain of tree bark rubbing against your skin, the stench of petrichor and sweat in your nose, you wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
This might even be better than the bed... Okay, maybe not. But that didn't matter with Cirdan so far inside of you he huffed with inclination, tempting to keep his orgasm at bay.
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Text
Cornflower Blue
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SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL
❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader
➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙
✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.
♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫
✫彡wordcount: 14k
♡'・ᴗ・'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst
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ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness
not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲
⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.
"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.
"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.
"No, I'm not tasty!"
"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.
"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"
You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"
"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.
You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"
You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.
The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.
You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.
   "Hello, Si-"
  "Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.
     You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"
     He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.
       "Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.
    "Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.
    He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.
    "No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."
    It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.
"So, where are you from, stranger?"
     "Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.
"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.
     He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."
     His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.
      The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.
     He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.
     The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.
     The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.
     "I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."
He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"
You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."
"Hm. And you?"
"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."
A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."
    "Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"
     He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."
    "Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.
    "Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.
     His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."
    A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"
     With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.
You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.
    You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.
    As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.
     "Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.
    "Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.
     "Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.
      You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.
     Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"
    "I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.
      You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.
    Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.
      You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.
    Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to.  A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.
You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"
"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."
"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.
"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"
It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.
He smells shockingly good.
He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.
Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.
He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.
The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.
So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.
"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.
But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.
You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."
     "Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"
    "Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"
     "I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.
    "Where is your family?"
    "I'm sorry?"
   "Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"
    "Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."
"And a husband?"
"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.
You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"
He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."
"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."
"I'm not a cowboy."
"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"
"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.
If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.
      The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.
    He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.
     Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.
"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.
"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"
"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.
Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.
Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.
"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.
"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.
"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.
"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."
"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"
"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.
Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.
His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.
And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."
"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"
"Now, (Y/n)."
With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.
Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.
"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.
He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.
Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.
Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.
As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.
"Her parents."
He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"
"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."
It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.
He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?
Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"
"No."
"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."
"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.
"Don't make me gut you, boy."
"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."
The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.
A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.
"Who you talking to?"
The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."
He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"
"Don't mean she can't listen."
He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.
"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"
You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.
"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.
"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."
He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"
     "I must admit... a bit."
    "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."
    "Really?"
    "Mhm."
      You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.
     One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.
     The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.
     "Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."
And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.
He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.
She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.
"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.
"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"
The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.
"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.
"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."
"I'm not a cowboy."
A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.
"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.
"I think I may like that."
You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.
You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.
Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.
Directed at him, and him alone.
He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.
You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.
He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"
"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.
"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.
He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"
"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.
"Oh, hush."
"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.
You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"
"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.
"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.
And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.
It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.
Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.
He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.
You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.
He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.
    He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.
You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.
God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.
That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.
He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.
He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.
As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-
Why not find out?
He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.
"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.
"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"
You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.
"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.
He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.
It's so much better than he imagined.
That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.
All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.
Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.
Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.
Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.
You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."
"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.
He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.
"Mh?"
"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."
"Oh, do tell."
And tell, you do.
"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"
"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.
"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"
Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.
He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.
He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"
With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.
His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.
You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.
He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"
Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.
You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.
     The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.
     He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.
     The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.
     All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.
      "Mingi—"
    So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.
     He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.
     You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person. 
     He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.
     "W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.
     "It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.
     The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."
      "G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.
    And he absolutely revels in it.
    "Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.
     "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."
     Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.
"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.
       He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.
     "Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."
       "Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.
     "Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.
    Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.
     "Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"
     "Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."
     "Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven." 
    The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"
    "Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.
    "I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"
     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.
    "If it is, we would be silly together."
     "You mean-"
    "Yes."
    You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.
    Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.
      A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.
     "Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.
      There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"
     "Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."
    "Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.
Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.
He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.
It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.
He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.
He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.
"You. Are. Mine."
And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.
Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.
     He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.
    He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.
    He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.
     He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.
     All was well- more than well. It was perfect.
      Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.
     He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.
     "Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.
     "Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.
     "Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.
   "You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.
     "No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."
     Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"
     "Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.
      That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.
     "He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.
     He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.
    "Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."
      With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.
    He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.
      "Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.
     He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"
      He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.
      "Louis, they're going to raid the town."
"What...?"
"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"
"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."
"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.
Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.
Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.
"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"
"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.
   They share a look.
    It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.
"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."
Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.
He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.
When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.
    You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.
    The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.
"(Y/n)!"
"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"
"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"
"Min, you're scarin' me..."
"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.
He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.
"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.
And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.
Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner. 
     He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.
     Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.
He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.
You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.
He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"
Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.
"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.
      "Buck."
   "Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"
     "Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."
     "Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"
   "That's what's gonna happen."
   "You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."
    Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.
      Cause shit is about to hit the fan.
    He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-
     He puts a bullet in his brain.
     You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.
    As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.
     And then all is silent.
    With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder. 
     "What the hell was that, boy?"
     "That was me saving your ass."
    Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.
     Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.
     You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down.  And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.
     Because he was the gunner.
    Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.
    WANTED.
    DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.
 DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.
    The door to the bar swings open.
   The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.
    "Mingi..."
    "Are you okay, Doll?"
   You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.
    "Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.
     "What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.
   Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.
     "You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."
     Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.
     "Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."
     Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.
"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"
    "You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.
Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.
He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.
"Mingi, long time no s-"
"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."
The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"
Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."
He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"
     It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.
     You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.
    Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.
     They don't know that Mingi was the one.
     He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.
     "Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.
     "I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."
     "Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.
     "Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"
      Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.
     He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.
You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."
You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.
You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."
"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"
"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.
It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.
You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.
Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.
But you're only met with a stranger.
You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.
You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.
You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.
"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.
You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.
The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.
      He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.
      You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."
      He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.
    He followed Mingis request and made it quick.
       He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.
    "Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.
     "Why not?"
   All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.
    A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.
    "Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.
    He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.
    Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.
    "Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.
    "Aye, man, I did what yo-"
    "Too close."
    "Just give me my mon-"
       His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.
      "Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.
     Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.
    "I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.
     Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.
    Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.
     He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.
    He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.
   The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?
Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.
    It was silent the entire way back to town.
And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.
"Mingi..."
He sighs, shoulders dropping.
"I'm s-"
"I thought you hated me?"
"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"
He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.
The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.
"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."
He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.
"Come back home, Mingi."
"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.
You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-
"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.
"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.
     He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."
You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.
     And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."
     Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry,  slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.
     You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.
       You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.
      "I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.
      "I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."
     He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.
    You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.
    He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.
    But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.
     He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.
     You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.
     His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.
    Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.
    "You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."
"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.
"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."
And he does.
     God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.
     He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.
     Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.
    He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.
    "Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.
    He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.
     "Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.
      Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.
   Mingi is so deep.
   Mingi is so thick.
   Mingi fucks you so good.
   Mingi treats you so good.
   Mingi loves you.
   Mingi.
   Mingi.
      "Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.
     He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.
      "Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.
    "F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.
Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.
     "Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.
     He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"
    "You did... but I liked it."
    He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"
    The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."
"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.
    "But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.
     He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"
    "I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.
      He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.
     "Mrs. Song."
1K notes · View notes
harveysweakness · 1 year ago
Note
If it’s possible could you possibly write something where reader and Harvey have been secretly married to each other for a few years the law firm doesn’t know since reader practices under her maiden name, anyway the firm finds out and tells them that they don’t need to hide anything. (Maybe they thought the firm would fire them or something?) idk up to you!
Thank you for taking my request!
A/N: Italics are in the past! I absolutely love this request! Thank you so much for requesting, I had a blast writing it! Let me know your thoughts!
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"Mrs. Specter," your husband whispered into your ear, pressing his lips briefly to your temple. "I will see you in thirty minutes."
"Mr. Specter," you replied, leaning into his touch, "My driver is faster than yours, so I will see you in twenty."
He chuckled, the feeling of it rumbling through his chest against your back. "I like those odds."
He left, the fluttery feeling in your chest once again taking you back to the first time you met Harvey.
"And this is our newest senior partner, Y/F/N Y/L/N," Jessica introduced Harvey to you. "Y/N, this is Harvey Specter."
"You can call me Harvey," the man replied, holding his hand out to you.
"You can call me Ms. L/N," you smiled, shaking his hand. Jessica smiled.
"And that is why I hired her."
Harvey smirked, but his eyes didn't leave your face. And though you kept his gaze, the fluttering in your chest made you want to run.
-------
By the time you'd made it to the building, Harvey had already been there thirty minutes. He caught up to you quietly in the hallway.
"What happened to twenty minutes?" he asked, trying and failing to conceal the smirk on his face as the two of you walked briskly towards your office.
"Traffic," you simply shrugged.
"I think it was actually that you still hadn't done your hair when I left."
"Shut up," you muttered, both of your eyes falling to the approaching junior partner.
"Mike," you greeted warmly, "how's that case for Robinson coming along?"
"I've got my first year associate working on it, so good."
"See, now you know why I treated you the way I did all those years," Harvey responded.
"You made me work three times the amount of hours I'm having mine work," Mike retorted.
"What are you going to do, labor laws have changed," Harvey shrugged, glancing at you.
"Don't look at me, I was always nice to my first years."
"It's true, she was the nicest," the newest junior partner agreed.
"Thank you, Mike. I will see you and Mr. Specter later at the meeting."
"How many times do I have to tell you? It's Harvey," your husband called after you.
-----
You weren't quite sure when you'd started letting him call you by your first name, but it probably had to do with the all-nighters you'd started pulling together when the firm was being sued for fraud.
"I can't find anything," you sighed, frustrated. You held your head in your hands, rubbing your temples from the exhaustion headache.
"Me either," Harvey replied, throwing down his recent stack of papers on his desk.
"What are we going to do, Harvey?" you asked softly, scared for the firm.
"I don't know, Ms. Y/L/N."
"You can call me Y/F/N, Harvey. I think we've known each other long enough."
"Does this mean we're becoming friends?" he laughed. You couldn't help but laugh too.
"Something like that."
-----
"They know," you announced, shutting the door to Harvey's office behind you.
"What do you mean they know? It's been five years, they don't know."
"They know," you repeated.
"They don't know."
"Harvey," you deadpanned.
"Sweetheart."
"Harvey, you ought to listen to your wife," you said, crossing your arms across your chest and jutting your hip out. His eyes followed the curve of your body, focusing on your hip.
"You're right, I should."
"Not the time. I heard Jessica telling the other partners, junior and senior, that she needed to hold a meeting with everyone because of something going on with two partners. Everyone was there but us."
"Because we're busy and the best in the firm," he shrugged.
"Harvey."
"Sweetheart."
"Jessica then said, and I quote 'best-kept secret relationship the firm has ever seen."
"Okay, so she knows," your husband nodded. You hummed in agreement.
"So what? She's not going to fire us," he noted.
"So why is this a partner meeting?" you questioned.
"That I don't know, but I'll find out."
You nodded, turning on your heels to get back to your office, not missing Harvey's famous call for Donna to tell him what was going on.
-----
Not even an hour later Jessica knocked on your door.
"Y/N, can I borrow you for a last minute partner meeting?"
"Of course," you replied, hoping your nerves weren't showing through your voice.
"It will only take a few moments. We just need to pick up Harvey on the way."
Stopping at Harvey's office, you waited while Jessica repeated the same words to him before leading you towards the conference room. The two of you shared a look, feeling a bit on edge. While you were more the one to feel your nerves, Harvey typically put himself more on the offensive when danger seemed possible.
"Why now, at this hour on a Tuesday?" he asked the managing partner.
"It seemed like the right time," Jessica replied simply.
"Well it doesn't feel right to me," Harvey retorted. "I had plans this afternoon."
"I'm sure you did. Y/N, didn't you also have to cancel plans? Didn't you ask for this afternoon off about a month ago?"
If you weren't sweating before, you certainly were now. Even your husband looked a tad nervous. Neither of you had time to dwell any further as you took your seats.
"There seems to be a congratulations in order," Jessica began. "One that was due five years ago."
You paled, staring straight at her. You didn't dare sneak a look at Harvey.
"It's impressive, really, keeping a secret such as this for so long. It's not a simple task to hide a marriage."
There were murmurs and whispers heard around the room. Harvey's hand briefly found your knee below the table and gave it a quick squeeze.
"Would the couple like to reveal themselves? Or should I?" Jessica asked.
"Y/N and I have an announcement," the man next to you spoke up.
There were several surprised gasps around the room, causing your cheeks to burn.
"You're married!?" Mike exclaimed, seemingly unable to help himself.
"Have been for five years, three months, and four days," your husband responded smoothly. Mike looked like he might stop breathing.
"And they have been the happiest days of my life," Harvey continued. "And I regret nothing."
"Can I ask why?" Jessica questioned softly, her eyes on you.
"We never wanted to put the firm in danger, in a different light," you answered. "If people knew- clients, other firms- we didn't want to risk changing the reputation of the firm."
Jessica gave an almost apologetic smile, knowing what you said had truth.
"Cats out of the bag now. I guess screw the firms reputation," Louis muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Louis-" Harvey began.
"The firm will be just fine," Jessica interrupted. "And I did mean congratulations really were in order." Her secretary seemed to hear everything, for several bottles of champagne were brought in with glasses for everyone.
"To Harvey and Y/N, may you have a lifetime of continued happiness together."
You looked at Harvey, clinking your champagne glasses together with smiles on your faces.
"Screw it," you heard him mutter, before quickly pressing his lips to yours.
965 notes · View notes
lvnleah · 6 months ago
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Sage’s third birthday | Leah Williamson x Lia Wälti
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Summary: Leah and Lia celebrate Sage’s third birthday in true Sage styles.
notes: thank you so much to @scribblesofagoonerr for helping me write this! :)
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"I can't believe she's three. Only seems like yesterday I was bringing her home from the hospital." Leah sighed, finishing blowing up a pink balloon.
Lia nodded in agreement as she hung up the pink birthday banners "The time really has flown by, hasn't it?"
She'd been there since the day Sage was born, one of the first people to meet the precious little girl. Leah could recall countless moments when Sage had been fussy, and Lia had been right by her side, offering comfort and support.
"Mhm, I miss her being so small like she was,” Leah smiled, “but she is becoming such a sweet, clever and funny little girl. I don't think I've done so bad now, have I?"
Lia placed her arm around Leah’s shoulder, planting a kiss on her girlfriend's temple, "You've done an amazing job. You have yourself to be proud of for that.”
"I couldn't have done it without you," Leah leaned over, kissing Lia’s soft lips.
"I wouldn't have ever left you on your own, there’s nothing else I would’ve rather done than have snuggles with her when she was a newborn.” Lia grinned.
As Leah released a balloon, it made a comical squeaking noise, and Lia burst into laughter. "I suppose we'd better finish blowing these balloons up," she said. "They won't inflate themselves, will they?"
"No, they won't," Leah agreed. "And you're right, it's getting late. Our little miss will probably wake us up the moment the sun rises, won't she?"
Leah and Lia continued decorating the living room before setting up Sage’s presents in their bedroom. They headed to bed, falling asleep in each other's embrace.
The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Sage's excited voice pierced the morning stillness as she burst through the girl's door.
"Mumma! Mummy!” Sage’s little voice cheered” Wake up! Wake up!"
Leah stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Right on cue," she mumbled, her voice still heavy with sleep.
“Wake up!” Sage continued, Mr Flopsy in a tight grip as she climbed onto the bed.
Lia chuckled from her side of the bed as Leah rolled over onto her back
“Lia, your daughter is awake," she teased.
Lia gasped jokingly. "My daughter? What happened to our daughter?"
Leah grinned, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. "She's your daughter when she's awake this early."
Sage bounced onto the bed, her little face beaming as she collapsed down onto Lia’s chest.
"Sage has a right to be awake and excited today, it is a very important day, isn't it?" Lia smiled, holding Sage against her chest.
Leah played along. "It is? What important day is it?" She smiled at her little girl.
Sage's eyes widened. "It's my birthday, silly Mumma!"
Leah laughed. "Oh right, yes, of course it is, Bubba. And do you remember how old you are today?"
"I'm three, Mumma!" Sage declared proudly, settling between both women and bouncing up and down on the bed.
Leah's heart swelled. "That's right, clever girl!" She leaned over and pressed a kiss on the top of Sage's forehead.
"Shall we open your presents now?" Lia asked, capturing Sage's attention as she pointed over to the pile sitting in the corner.
"Yeah, the presents!" Sage shouted in excitement, using the phrase that Kyra had recently taught her.
Leah slipped out of bed before setting the pile of wrapped gifts down in front of Sage. "Wow, Bubba, look how much stuff you have!"
Sage's eyes widened as she tore into the first package. "Wow. Thank you, mumma! Thank you, mummy!”
Leah and Lia exchanged a glance, their hearts full. "You're welcome, my girl," Leah smiled.
While Sage played with all of her new toys, Leah whipped up a special birthday girl breakfast that consisted of Sage’s favourite things. Lia got roped into playing with the new Barbies, something they had to tear Sage away from while they got her ready.
On the drive to training, Leah and Lia didn’t even get to choose a song. The whole drive, which was a short one, was filled with Sage’s own song choices.
"I hear it's someone's birthday today. I wonder who it could be, hm?" Viv said as Leah unstrapped Sage from her car seat.
"It's me!” Sage smiled, running over and standing in front of Viv before jumping up and down, “It’s mine Vivi. I’m three!"
"What!” Viv gasped, leaning down to Sage’s height. “there's no way you're three already!"
"Uh-huh.” Sage nodded, “It’s my birthday!"
"Wow, happy birthday!” Viv smiled, “Did you get lots and lots of presents?"
Sage nodded once again, "Yeah! I opened them with Mumma and Mummy this morning!"
"Oh wow. you've been spoiled a lot!"
Beth sneaked up behind Sage, tickling her before lifting her and throwing her up in the air "There’s the birthday girl!"
"Ah! Ah! put me... put me down!" Sage giggled, her blonde ponytail flying all over the place.
"Put her down, Beth!” Viv warned, “Before you make her sick!"
Beth jokingly rolled her eyes at her girlfriend before resting Sage on her hip, "Always a spoilsport, Vivi!”
"You’ll be the one complaining when she throws up on you, leifje!”
As Beth carried Sage into the lobby of the training centre, Lia, Leah, and Viv followed close behind, chatting animatedly about the upcoming celebration. The lobby was bustling with activity, decorated with colourful balloons and streamers in honour of Sage's special day. It wasn’t long before they were stopped by someone else.
"I spy a little girl whose birthday is today!" Alessia smiled warmly as Beth set Sage down on the floor. The toddler's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Lessi! Lessi!" Sage cheered, her small arms reaching out eagerly.
"Hi, Sage," Alessia beamed, kneeling to hug the excited toddler as she wrapped herself around Alessia's legs. “Happy birthday!"
Sage grinned from ear to ear, her eyes sparkling. "Thank 'ou!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure joy.
Just then, Kyra appeared through the doors, her face lighting up when she saw the birthday girl. She scooped Sage up into her arms effortlessly, twirling her around. “Sage, do you know what birthday girls get on their birthday?"
"What?" Sage's eyes widened with curiosity.
"Birthday cake!" Kyra gasped, her enthusiasm infectious.
"Cake?!" Sage echoed, her excitement reaching new heights.
Kyra nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Uh-huh. Lots of it!"
Leah, who had been watching the exchange with a smile, sighed and shook her head. "Don’t tell her that, Kyra. She'll want to eat it all!"
Sage's face fell into a pout as she turned to Leah. “I wan' cake, Mumma!”
Leah sighed again, but her eyes softened. "We'll have cake, Sage, but later on," she said, trying to balance the toddler's excitement with a hint of restraint.
Alessia chuckled, ruffling Sage's hair. "Well done, Kyra. Now she's got cake on her mind for the rest of the day."
"I didn't think she'd react like that," Kyra admitted, looking somewhat sheepish as she balanced Sage on her hip.
"Really? How'd you think she would react when you mention the word c-a-k-e?" Alessia teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"I can spell, you know! I'm smart! Mumma says so!" Sage interjected proudly, her little face beaming with confidence.
"That's my girl!" Leah responded, her heart swelling with pride as she ruffled Sage's hair.
"She's definitely your mini-me, that's for sure. I'm surprised she hasn't already started doing sudokus yet," Katie remarked jokingly as she appeared out of nowherer.
"There's still time for it," Kyra chimed in, snickering as she shared a glance with Katie.
Leah couldn't help but roll her eyes affectionately at the banter. "We'll eat it in a bit, Sage. We have to train first. Come on, let's get you set up on the sideline. Do you want to do some colouring?"
"Okay, Mumma!" Sage agreed eagerly, her earlier disappointment forgotten as she focused on the prospect of colouring.
After getting changed, Leah led Sage to the sidelines outside and set her up with crayons and colouring books, the bright hues catching the toddler's eye. The rest of the team gathered outside, readying themselves for training. The buzz of activity filled the air, a mix of laughter and anticipation.
"That's my girl," Leah said, smiling proudly as Sage concentrated on her colouring.
"We'll be over here if you need us, okay, sweetheart?" Lia added, giving Sage a reassuring smile.
After a while, Sage grew bored of her colouring and made her way over to Lia. She tapped Lia on the leg, grabbing her mum’s attention.
"Mummy, can I kick the ball?" Sage asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Course you can, sweetheart. Go ahead!" Lia encouraged her.
"Go Sage, go!" cheered Leah from beside the goal where she stood with Manuela.
"Woohoo!" Beth cheered as Sage kicked the ball into the back of the net. "Look at you go, Sage!"
"She's already a star striker in the making!" Alessia commented, clapping her hands.
"Not if I have anything to do about it. She's gonna be a defender just like her mumma," Leah interjected, winking.
"What if she wants to be a midfielder like me?" Lia suggested, laughing.
"Nah, she's gonna follow in my footsteps!" Leah insisted with a determined nod.
"Mumma, I wanna be a striker like Lessi!" Sage declared, kicking the ball with enthusiasm.
"Ha! Told you!" Alessia teased, a grin spreading across her face.
"Oh, shut up! She’ll be a defender!" Leah retorted, playfully rolling her eyes.
After the impromptu football session, everyone gathered inside for lunch. The room was filled with laughter and chatter as plates were passed around and stories were shared. Once everyone had finished eating, Leah brought out the cake, a beautifully decorated confection that had everyone’s eyes widening in anticipation. She set it down in front of Sage before fetching a lighter from the chefs.
"Can we have cake now?" Sage asked impatiently, her eyes fixed on the cake.
"Slow down, slowpoke. We haven't even lit the candles yet!" Lia replied, smiling at her daughter's eagerness.
"I wan' eat it though!" Sage pouted as she sat on Viv’s lap, her legs swinging back and forth.
"Patience, kid," Katie laughed, ruffling Sage's hair.
"This is Leah's child we're talking about. Do you really think she has any patience?" Kyra said, grinning.
"I heard my name mentioned," Leah said, walking over with a grin, the lighter in hand. She lit the candles as everyone gathered around, ready to sing Happy Birthday to the excited birthday girl.
As the candles flickered to life, everyone gathered around the table, forming a semi-circle around Sage. Leah stood beside her, smiling proudly, while Lia took her place on the other side, ready to join in the celebration.
"Alright, everyone," Leah called out. "On the count of three. One, two, three!"
The room erupted into a chorus of "Happy Birthday,". Sage's eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked around at the familiar faces singing just for her.
As the song concluded, Leah crouched down next to Sage. "Okay, sweetheart, make a wish and blow out the candles."
Sage closed her eyes tightly, her little face scrunching up in concentration as she made her wish. Then, with a deep breath, she blew out the candles, everyone cheering as the last flame flickered out.
"Yay, Sage!" Viv said, giving her a gentle squeeze.
"Good job, sweetheart!" Lia added, kissing the top of her head.
"What did you wish for?" Katie asked, leaning in with a curious smile.
Sage grinned but shook her head. "Can't tell, or it won't come true!"
"Smart girl," Manuela said, chuckling. "Let's hope it comes true, then."
Leah began cutting the cake, handing out slices to everyone. The rich aroma of chocolate filled the air, making everyone's mouths water. Sage took a big bite, her eyes widening with delight.
"Mmm, so good!" she exclaimed, her face covered in frosting.
As everyone dug into their slices, the room buzzed with conversation. Kyra was recounting a funny story from training, making everyone laugh.
Leah sat back, watching the scene with a content smile. These moments, surrounded by family and friends, were the ones she cherished most.
After everyone had finished their cake, Alessia stood up, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone, it's the present time!"
Sage's eyes lit up even more, if that were possible, and she bounced in her seat with excitement. "Presents!"
Leah and Lia guided Sage to a spot on the floor where a pile of brightly wrapped gifts awaited her. Sage wasted no time, tearing into the first package with gusto. She gasped as she pulled out a brand-new football jersey, personalised with her name on the back.
"Look, Mummy! It's got my name on it!" she squealed, holding it up for everyone to see.
"That one's from me," Beth said, smiling. "Now you can look just like your mum on the field."
Sage beamed and hugged the jersey to her chest. "Thank you, Beffy!"
One by one, Sage opened her presents, each one bringing new excitement. There was a set of new colouring books and markers, a pair of shiny new football boots, and even a small goal set for the backyard.
As the last present was opened, Sage looked around at everyone, her face glowing with happiness. "Thank ‘ou, everyone! This is the best birthday ever!”
Leah and Lia shared a smile, their hearts full. "You're welcome, sweetheart," Leah said, pulling Sage into a hug. "We love you so much."
Finally, Leah and Lia managed to get Sage home. She was definitely on a sugar high from all of the cake Kyra had fed her but by the time they were home, Sage was completely knocked out.
"She's had a good day," Lia said softly, as Leah laid Sage down in her bed.
"The best," Leah agreed, tucking Sage in before kissing her forehead. "And so have I."
They quietly closed the door to Sage's room and headed downstairs, the house now quiet and peaceful after the day's excitement. Leah collapsed onto the couch, sighing contentedly. Lia joined her, resting her head on Leah's shoulder.
"Today was perfect," Lia murmured. "Seeing Sage so happy... it means everything."
Leah nodded, wrapping her arm around Lia. "It really does. She's growing up so fast. Sometimes I wish we could slow it down, just enjoy every moment a little longer."
Lia smiled, looking up at Leah. "We're doing a pretty good job of enjoying it, I think. Days like today are proof of that."
"Yeah," Leah agreed, her eyes softening. "We really are."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. Eventually, Lia shifted, sitting up slightly. "We should probably clean up a bit before bed."
Leah groaned playfully. "Do we have to? Can't we just leave it for tomorrow?"
Lia chuckled. "As tempting as that is, you know we'll regret it in the morning."
"True," Leah sighed, standing up and stretching. "Alright, let's get it over with."
Together, they moved through the house, tidying up the remnants of this morning. They picked up wrapping paper, washed the dishes, and set the living room back in order. It didn't take long with both of them working together, and soon the house was back to its usual neat state.
As they finished, Lia took Leah's hand, pulling her towards their bedroom. "Come on, let's get some rest. We deserve it."
Leah smiled, squeezing Lia's hand. "You don't have to convince me.”
They made their way upstairs, stopping briefly to check on Sage one last time. She was still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on her face.
In their room, they changed into their pyjamas and climbed into bed, the day's events catching up with them. Leah turned off the light, and they settled into the comfortable embrace of the covers.
"Goodnight, love," Leah whispered, kissing Lia’s shoulder before switching the lamp off and falling asleep.
120 notes · View notes
astraystayyh · 2 years ago
Text
When I fell in love
Pairing : Hyunjin x reader. fluff.
Summary : it's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you - all the moments he fell in love with you in.
If you enjoy please let me know, I READ AND APPRECIATE ALL YOUR FEEDBACK <333
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The smell of burnt food wakes you up. You rub your eyes tiredly, patting the spot beside you to find it cold and empty. Which could only mean that your boyfriend Hyunjin was in the kitchen.
You smile to yourself, guessing that he wanted to make you breakfast since it was your birthday; the first one you're spending with him. You've already made it a point to tell him you didn't want anything expensive. To which he frowned, whining "but I want to spoil you."
With renewed energy you leave the bed, quickly washing your face and brushing your teeth. You head to the kitchen to find Hyunjin with his back to you, flipping what appeared to be pancakes on the stove. You lean on the door for a bit, admiring the view of his bare back and flexing muscles. He was beautiful, thoughtful and he was yours. That was gift enough.
You sneakily walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Hyunjin yelps, taken aback by your sudden presence and drops the spatula he was holding. "You scared me", he huffs a hand on his chest and you laugh, "dramatic."
He then turns around, cradling your face between his hands. His thumb swipes back and forth on your cheek and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch. "Happy birthday, my angel", he whispers, before meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.
"Am I in heaven?" you smile, eyes still closed.
"Now who's the dramatic one?"
"Your antics are rubbing off on me," you wink, making him chuckle.
Hyunjin turns back towards the stove and you lean your cheek against his arm, your hand wrapping around his waist, "What are you making?"
"Pancakes, i've burnt the first three ones but i'll get it right now."
"Of course baby, everyone burns the first three pancakes," you tease and he pinches your cheek affectionately. "I'll let all your comments slide because it's your birthday today."
"Why thank you," you smile, sitting down on the kitchen stool. "Is this your first time making pancakes?"
"No, I made Felix teach me. But for some reason, it doesn't seem to work now," he says sheepishly and you melt.
"Is this why you've been spending so much time with him lately?"
"Yes, I wanted it to be perfect for you."
"You're here with me so it's already perfect", you say seriously, and his eyes soften at you. "Here, let me help you?" you offer and he shakes his head no, "I want to do this for you."
"You've already made the batter, i'll just cook. Plus, you can make me coffee. Pretty please."
"Fine. Only because I don't want us to starve", he grumbles the last part and you laugh.
Hyunjin starts playing music and you quickly realize it's the playlist you made him. You shoot him a smile and he grins at you, his eyes crinkling closed. He didn't tell you but he listened to this playlist every day. This way, even when you're not with him, you're still there- in essence.
When the food is done, you set everything up on the table, and Hyunjin quickly leaves for his art studio. He comes back, hands behind his back, and a huge grin on his face. "Close your eyes", he instructs and you oblige, smiling.
"Okay... Now open them."
You smell them before you see them, a bouquet of flowers twice the size of your head. They are roses and sunflowers. You mentioned wanting one for your birthday on your third date- that was 7 months ago.
"You remembered", you smile softly, touched.
"Of course", he says as if it's evidence that he'd remember; like the sun rises every morning and sets every night.
"Thank you, this is the best birthday ever", you hug him tightly and he pulls back to place a kiss on your temple. "Now eat", he orders and you laugh, "Yes, sir."
The conversation flows between you easily, with Hyunjin excitedly telling you what he has planned for the day. A picnic in a secluded spot he has chosen months ago. It made you emotional, how happy he was at the prospect of making you happy. As if you were an extension of his being, and he felt your joy like it was his.
When your breakfast is done, you get up to wash the dishes. But Hyunjin pushes you gently back into your seat, "Baby, you aren't doing anything today."
"But you hate doing the dishes", you point out. It was a routine between the both of you, you washed the dishes, he dried them and put them back in their place.
"But I'd do it for you", he answers instantly, making you pause in your tracks. It was small acts like those that made you feel so loved by Hyunjin.
You don't argue any further, seizing this opportunity to watch him. You liked looking at him, memorizing every one of his gestures- the way he flicks his blonde hair back, the way he shakes his hands to dry them, the way he looks back at you every minute or so, as if to make sure you were still there.
When he's done, you stand up and walk towards him. He picks you up by the waist, placing you on the kitchen table. He then stands between your legs, caging your body with his arms.
"Hello there", you smile and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Hello, pretty."
"You are very handsome, do you happen to have a girlfriend?", you tease and he laughs, shaking his head.
"I do, she's the most beautiful human alive", he humors you and you smile, "You sound in love."
"I am in love".
"Then maybe you should tell her", you smirk and he laughs, before leaning in until your noses brush together, "Hi, girlfriend. I am in love with you."
"I am in love with you too", you smile before planting a sweet kiss on his lips.
"Stay here, I'll be right back", he tells you, retreating towards his art studio once again, and you yell out after him, "There is more?!"
"Of course, there is more! You are Hwang Hyunjin's girlfriend", he shouts and you laugh. Him and his -well-deserved- ego.
He comes back skipping, a small box with a pretty blue ribbon wrapped around it in his hands. He gives it to you, and you eagerly open it. Inside, you find a huge letter, and written on the front you read "Moments in Time".
"What's this?", you ask him and he only smiles at you. But you could tell he was nervous, his left hand touching the nape of his neck over and over again. You put the box down, pulling him towards you so he's standing between your legs once again. "I'd love this whatever it is", you reassure and he smiles, "You don't even know what's in there."
"It could be a rock and I'd be happy because you gave it to me", you tell him seriously and he nods, eyes shining. How is it that it's your birthday and still he's the one feeling so loved by you?
You open the letter, taking out a dozen of drawings. They are small, the size of a Polaroid picture. You recognize yourself in each one of them. "What are those?", you ask him, heart beating wildly in your chest.
"it's um.. All the moments I fell in love with you in."
You stare at him in shock, your eyes darting between the drawings and him. You haven't even gone through each one and yet your eyes are tearing up already.
In the first drawing, you see yourself, a smile on your face and the neon lights of a grocery store reflecting on you. It was dark outside- the first night you met.
"This is when I saw you for the first time. You gave me the keys I dropped and smiled at me and I felt as if my heart stopped beating. I still remember your smile that day", he explains and you smile fondly at the memory. That was the moment that changed your life forever.
"You still remember what I was wearing...", you whisper and he nods, his thumb drawing mindless circles on your thigh. "I remember everything when it comes to you."
You beam at him, going through the second drawing. "Me with ice cream on my nose", you giggle, "This is when we were still talking and I took you out, right?"
"Yes, I was feeling down until you dragged my ass outside", he chuckles, "You got ice cream on your nose and when I pointed it out you pouted at me. You just looked so cute, I wanted to stare at you forever", he pauses, bopping your nose with his finger, "But most importantly, it was the way you cheered me up by just being near me. You are magical, my love."
"Aren't I the best", you joke in a useless attempt to stop your tears from falling. "That you are", he smiles softly, planting a kiss on your head.
You stare at the drawing some more, admiring all the details he easily captured- the color of the seats, the painting hung on the wall, the strobe lights that shone in the icecream parlor. "You are really talented, angel. My favorite artist", you compliment, and he blushes, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "Look at the next one", he mumbles and you oblige, giggling.
The third drawing was of your first date, you see yourself running down the beach, your back to Hyunjin, the sun casting behind you. He had taken you for a picnic there, and you ended up playing tag with each other. It was one of those moments that healed your inner child.
"You looked so beautiful that night, you and the sunset and the sea. I realized I wouldn't mind chasing after you if it meant that I'd have you with me in the end."
You can feel your heart clench at his words, you couldn't believe that you got this lucky to have him love you.
"You don't have to chase after me, Jinnie. I'm yours", you reassure him and he beams at you, "And I am yours."
The next drawing makes you giggle, it's you crying, your cheeks red and stained with tears. You were sitting on a swing, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, "Is this me crying?"
He nods and you laugh, "I was crying and you were thinking of falling for me?"
"Yeah", he scratches his neck sheepishly, "it's just... It was the first time you cried in front of me, and it made me realize that I wanted to be the one to comfort you. Each time you cry, I wanted to be the one you come to."
You can't speak, so instead, you lean in, kissing him for what felt like an eternity. When you pull back, Hyunjin points at the fourth picture.
"This is when you came over for the first time. You were wearing my hoodie and sweatpants, coffee in your hands. And I always find you beautiful...", he pauses, his hand gently caressing your cheek, "but still, when you weren't all dolled up, that's when I thought you looked the prettiest."
"You are the prettiest", you coo and he waves his hand in the air, "Shut up... Say it again", he grins and you swat his arm playfully.
In the final drawing, you see yourself sleeping, your hair sprawled around you. Your lips are puckered out, and your cheek is on what you assume is Hyunjin's arms. He even drew the little flowers you have in your pajama.
"This is when I slept over at your house for the first time. And when I woke up, you nuzzled up against me and I... I knew I wanted to wake up to this sight forever", he kisses your forehead and you close your teary eyes, savoring the feel of his lips on you.
But then, you look closer at the picture and you pinch his side jokingly, "did you have to draw the drool too?"
"I stay true to details", he winks and you laugh, leaning onto his side.
"How do you still remember all of this? What clothes I was wearing and the details of the background", you whisper in awe.
"I just stare at you a lot so it's imprinted in my brain, is that weird?"
"No, it's absolutely endearing and I...", you put the drawings down, linking your hands behind his neck, "and I love you. I am so in love with you, Hyunjin. I can't believe you did all of this... For me. You're the love of my life."
"Say it again."
"You are the love of my life, my Hyunjin", you repeat and he grins, hugging you. You wrap your legs around his waist and he spins you around. The sound of your giggles fills the kitchen and you know you'll remember this moment forever.
He finally puts you down, and you cradle his face between your hands, your thumbs slowly stroking his cheeks. "Thank you so much Hyunjin, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me and I will cherish it forever. I'll protect those drawings with my life if I have to."
"I'm glad you liked it", he blushes and your eyes soften at him, "I didn't like it, I loved it, baby. You are so sweet to me, I don't know what I did to deserve you."
"You are you, that's enough for me to love you", he whispers and you smile, heart so full of love it feels like it will burst.
Hyunjin brings your hands to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly, all while looking into your eyes as if you were the answer to all his prayers. His stare is too intense you almost can't hold it.
"Why are you looking at me like this?"
"I'm remembering this moment...", he says as he gently kisses your palm, "this way I can draw it for you on your next birthday."
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