#like he was laughing HARD when this happened

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. This part- fingering, fucking, loss of virginity, masturbation (suguru) finger sucking, hate sex, light angst. WC this part- 6.4k

Based on Clan Leader Geto- will be three parts <3 Plz share/comment/like if you enjoy!! Suguru is unappreciated I wanna give this psycho Princess a good fic!

Songs for this part-  Geto Suguru - Fill the Void - I hate everything about you

Part One

You were to marry Suguru Geto, curse user, rumored cult leader, and clan leader to the major four clans there were. The Kamos, The Zenin, The Gojos and The Getos, the main four clans that you all know there are. As for Suguru’s family, it turns out he is now the clan leader for them, he is the one that they are now riding the whole line of the Geto Clan on.

Marrying you.

You stand there nervously, tummy feeling sick in your pretty white robes as you stare at this psychotic man, this man that thinks people without power are lesser, and perhaps worthless. Perhaps he wishes to eradicate you all, yet for his duty to the Geto clan, it leaves him to have to be with you, the chosen one from your family, for as long as you two were alive.

Maybe Suguru Geto back then was tolerable, back when he was just a clan leader and not all the rumors that are held, but now!? Being his bride was not just terrifying, it was a literal death sentence. After you’d given him heirs you were absolutely sure he’d eradicate you and perhaps anyone you’ve ever known and loved, including your family, who’d just given you the saddest of looks.

They weren’t here, you supposed even they couldn’t live with just handing their only daughter off to him, maybe before, you’d have been excited, remembering meeting him when you were just a teenager, he was a little older than you. Handsome and sweet with this smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks, he was so courteous and sweet, but that was a different man.

You look now, as you nervously step down the aisle, eyes of everyone on you aside from him, Suguru Geto. He’s decked out in brilliant emerald robes, laughing and murmuring to several girls near him. His long black hair is half up, showcasing his handsome features, yes if perhaps he wasn’t a psycho killer, you could find him attractive, not be sick to your stomach.

As some long red headed lady taps his shoulder, her long nails against him, he finally sees you then, and his jaw locks, you feel those violet eyes on you like a physical touch. You doubt he remembers your one meeting years ago, you doubt he recognizes you or cares, or sees you as anything but a nuisance, a duty. But you see his narrowed eyes dip down your body, taking you in.

Your heart hammers as you get closer, a mix of sorcerers scowling or smirking at you, along with the Geto clan looking curiously, murmuring here and there. Everyone hoped to stay on Suguru Geto’s good side, if he had one, you weren’t quite sure, feeling the insane energy emanating from him as he studies you. Another step, another click of your heel echoing in the immaculate hall.

It’s hard to be impressed with the beauty of it, of the Geto estate, surely it’s one of the nicest there are, there are four major families, and the Geto family is one. You don’t know how you ended up being selected, your family is certainly wealthy, but you wonder at your horrific luck now as you stand before him.

You have to lean your head back just to look at the tall man, towering over everyone in the room, he makes you feel so small, even smaller with his quiet assessment, as the room is full of hushed whispers. Half of them surely want you to just die, half of them want an heir from you, you imagine this man in front of you leaning down wants both.

Suguru eyes you carefully, yes you’re beautiful, but you clearly have not an ounce of power, not an ounce of any useful energy. You’re clearly just some pathetic little mortal, which disgusts him, you’re tiny and pathetic, useless. He’s so annoyed this is what he has to do, but he certainly can’t just not fulfill these obligations, as Suguru needs the backing of his family to gain more power.

Already so powerful, and with an enormous, loyal following, he detests that he has to in any way deal with his parents still, but he supposes he will handle it for now. Surely soon he’d have the precious few mortals he allows to live, to be loyal servants at his beck and call, pathetic ants that work for their lives he allows them.

Your eyes lower nervously, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lights of the soft chandelier hanging above you glittering on your smooth skin. He feels it, you’re terrified, which makes him smirk just a bit, as you should know your place, under him, beneath him, perhaps he can handle you if you’ll be just a little docile. You are pleasing enough to look at.

Something familiar stirs when you look back at him, with eyes glimmering with unshed tears, your lower lip caught in your row of upper teeth. He remembers it like a fog, being at Jujutsu high with his best friends, right before he started to realize how horrible humans were, God he’d been so naive then. Your families introduced you two, but you were young.

He remembers thinking you were pretty, being just a little shy actually, which is so laughable now. You’d met Satoru then too, and he could swear you’d made eyes on him, on his old best friend who now is his enemy, which hurts Suguru in many, many ways, as having Satoru back on the right side, his side. There was no denying Satoru was the strongest, but Suguru was coming for him.

He smiles a bit as he thinks of it, and his pretty face looks terrifying for a moment, making your breath catch, as the priest begins the ceremony, and Suguru rips his eyes from you. You eye black gauged earrings, alone with some little barbell in his eyebrow, details that almost make him seem like a human, but you suppose those are just from long ago.

Suguru feels Manami’s long nails against his back, he turns and smirks at her, ignoring the pretty, but pathetic human in front of him. Manami and him have long hooked up together, though Suguru partakes in many women, she seems to be the main one by his side. Just this morning she’d sucked him off, he had not been in any sort of mood however to do more.

Knowing he’d have to fulfill his stupid duties were irritating him to know end, and no amount of sucking was fixing his shitty mood. He also sees the girls he truly sees as his real daughters, Mimiko and Nanako whispering about the bride just a bit. He errantly thinks he hears ‘pretty’ but he remembers how young they are, and what he keeps them a bit sheltered from still.

They didn’t know all of his plans yet, they were just girls still.

“You may kiss the bride.” Suguru hears errantly, he sighs, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, hopefully the only time he’ll have to, but something literally jolts through his body as he does. He pulls back, glaring down at you, gripping your wrist, tiny in his massive grip, making you wince a bit, looking up at him with frightened eyes.

“Do you have any cursed energy!?” He demands, narrowing those intense eyes of his, you step back, shaking your head quickly.

“You know I do not. Why ask?” You whisper, he grabs your wrist even tighter, sensing every bit of your body, finding nothing. Why then, had he felt that!? Some odd shock through his system!?

He’d never kiss you again, it is quite annoying.

As the ceremony goes, and Suguru has many people around him, including some redhead you notice is all over him, you come across two little girls, who you’ve been informed are like daughters to Suguru. They both study you curiously, the little blond with pigtails smiling at you.

“You’re just a human, right?” She says, and you nod, shyly.

“Does it… suck to have no powers?” The little brunette says, and you sigh.

“Honestly, no. I don’t want all of that responsibility I guess? Do you all…” They both hold balls of energy, and you step back, heart racing as they giggle.

“Girls, not at the ceremony.” You’re almost shocked to hear him sound- kind, affectionate?- from across the room, chuckling a bit.

“Fine, dad.” They speak at the same time you notice, then they bombard you with more and more questions, while Suguru watches curiously, Manami murmuring things she’d do to him in his ear, as the other members start to dance. Someone dances with you, then, and Suguru…

Well he doesn’t fucking like it.

Why!? You’re nothing really.

When you’re finally done in the ceremony, and you’ve been dressed in some dainty little see through slip, you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, as they finally leave after slathering you in fragrant oil, brushing your hair till it gleamed. You eye yourself in the mirror nervously, seeing the color on your cheeks, the way your eyes look so… frightened really.

Being promised to Suguru meant being sheltered, and aside from making out and some touching when you could sneak out, you were indeed a virgin, and having your first time with a dude who wants to kill you just doesn’t sound fun. You sure wouldn’t let him see how afraid you were, not when he walks into the room, a goblet of wine in his hand, sighing and shutting the door.

You’re tense as he eyes your, thin transparent material showcasing your curves, the nip of your waist, the just of your hips, and most tantalizingly the swell of your breasts. His breath catches at just how good you do look, his cock twitching in response, irritating him to no end.

Perhaps this is just his stupid body’s response, but he does not get attracted to humans, they disgust him, even the pretty ones. But you are… exceptionally sexy right now, could it be all the wine, could it be that he saw you before he changed? Suguru shoves all those thoughts back, gulping down the rest of the red wine now, a drip falling from the corner, and you’re just standing there.

“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbles, and you glare then, making him smirk but also making his cock even more full of blood.

“Let’s, I don’t want this any more than you.” You mumble, unlacing the ribbons over your gown then, and he’s irritated at how bad his hands itch to take it off you, instead raising a brow.

“Oh I doubt that, at least you get to fuck me, someone with power. I am the one that has to fuck a pathetic monkey.” Your scowl deepens, as he unlaces his belt, letting his robes fall, and you see his perfect body, well formed pecs and cut abdomen, lines and swirls of tattoos all over his body, even on his corded arms.

You falter for only a moment, because his body is literally perfect, down to the trail of dark hair below his flat belly button, but you quickly shove all that out, ignoring the way your body is reacting to just seeing him. “Monkey, huh, is that what you call humans?”

“Sure is, pathetic monkeys, lesser developed and-” He pauses when your dress falls in a silky pool to your ankles, and you stand there naked fully, his heart dropping into his damn stomach.

His cock is leaking precum just staring at you, god you’re fucking beautiful, so beautiful he doesn’t think he can put a word to it. It’s as if his cock doesn’t recognize you’re some pathetic human, neither do hands that itch to touch, and his tongue that wants to just lick you.

Fuck you’re annoying.

Why are you built like this!? Your perfect tits alone are making him ache for you so badly he can hardly breathe, as they rise and fall with your own nervous breaths, and you look right at him, boldly. Suguru tries to avert his eyes, to play it off in any way, but he’s awestruck, lips parted, as he watches you cross your arms under those breasts, sees a hint of a pussy he wants to bury himself inside.

Fuck if you were just… if you just had some powers, he’d have so much fun with you, god he’d tell you how pretty you were. He’d make you cum on his mouth over and over, feel you gripping his long locks, but he can’t because you’re… you’re nothing, really, just a monkey… he has to remember.

You see red lining his perfect cheekbones, making you curious at him until he clears his throat, averting his eyes and releasing his hair, letting it cascade over broad shoulders. “Let’s just… get it done.” You murmur then, sitting on the futon now, decked with reds and golds in the luxurious room they had made for the two of you.

That’s when Suguru sees your perfect little pussy, making him bump into the side table, you blink a bit, curiously at him, thighs spread as you rest on your elbows. He cannot even function, you are so perfect he hates it, surely there is something about you, some energy they’re missing, there is no way that you’re a human, with such effects on him!?

He lets his pants fall as he tries to pull himself together, and that’s when you see him, rock hard and thick, far, far too many inches. You panic, wondering just how the fuck that’s gonna fit, you’d had fingers inside you that hurt a bit before, this was probably gonna wreck you. You almost shut your thighs, watching his reddened tip drool pearly drops of precum.

Sheltered but not stupid, he was clearly ready. You raise a brow. “You seem pretty… ready for such a monkey in front of you, hmm?”

Suguru glares now, grabbing you by the hair, cock near your face, you wonder if he’ll shove it in your mouth wildly, but he’s just pulling at your hair, making you gasp out in pain, as he tilts your head back. “Do you even know what to do, pathetic little fucking monkey!?”

“I haven’t before, no.” You whisper then, and he pauses, gulping down some horrible sense of guilt. Not only has he not been with a virgin, he knows he’s clearly not your choice for this.

What is it that's making him feel so much?

He hates it. He hates you.

Is it the fact that he can see you’re afraid, he lays with women who coo over him, who are soaking wet as he just smiles at them, women who drop to their knees if he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he shouldn’t care, right? What are humans to a sorcerer?

“I know you need an heir, so just… put it in me.” You say, he chuckles then, shaking his head as he shoves you back on the bed, bouncing just slightly when he rests over you on an elbow, sucking on two fingers then.

It’s so lewd, how his mouth wraps the thick digits, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them, before he sinks two right in your tight little cunt, making you gasp at the stretch, and making him exhale, holding back a moan. You’re so tight, clenching him, your gummy little walls convulsing, making him picture just how good you’ll feel around his cock.

“Do you have to!? Just get it in.” You whisper, and he glares down at you, lips parted at your utter lack of knowledge and insolent mouth.

“I can’t, you’re too tight, stupid monkey.” You glare and shove at his chest, only making him chuckle more. “You think I wanna prep or even touch you?”

“You think I w-want those or that in me!? No, just do it. Stop that… touching me inside… mnh!” At the sound of your own moan you cover your mouth, gasping as your eyes shoot up to his, he tilts his head, long silky hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both, as he presses on that spot again.

This time your eyes roll back, and he knows he’s found it, that spot in your pretty pussy that is just a little spongier, as your cunt starts drooling, and his cock has to press against the bed, for any pressure. Not only do you feel so good, so wet, you’re also fucking gorgeous as your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he looks down at the mess you’re making.

“Messy little thing, tsk.” He says then, and you’re struggling to form a word when he puts his fingers back in, building pressure in your tummy that feels far too good, making you hate him more. “Hear her, huh? Monkey that excited?”

“D-don’t hear shit, don’t even l-like it.” You manage to utter out, and he’s smirking down at you, kissing down your breasts far too fondly, moaning as your walls are fluttering around his fingers, sucking a pretty, puffy nipple in his mouth. “Just fuck me, would you?”

“It will hurt you… I-” You pause, blinking as he leans up from licking and biting your breasts, little trails of saliva, as you look at him with wide eyes.

“What do you care, you don’t need me to like it to give me an heir. Just get it done so I can go to sleep.”

Your words hit him then, why does he care? Suguru could slaughter a village but can’t imagine fucking you without preparing you properly, fuck he wanted you to like it, to want him. And why!?

“You won’t be able to take me, tiny pathetic little cunt can’t.” You scowl as he sucks on a nipple again, scissoring his fingers in your cunt now, making lewd squishing sounds as you feel you’re soaked, mortifying you.

“Stop sucking on them, you don’t need to.” You shove him again, and he glares, leaning over you now, intimidating as he curls slick fingers, making you gasp in pleasure, biting your lower lip hard so you don’t scream out how good it is.

“If I must breed you, I’ll do it how I wish to. Stop acting as if you can tell me what to do.”

“I hate you.” You smack him then, earning a psychotic glare, and you realize fuck you’ve messed up, as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them right in your mouth, making you choke on them.

“Will you shut up, stupid monkey, fuck.” He’s then lining up his cock with your entrance, shoving your thighs up high. “Fine then, wanna get it over with, huh?”

You nod eagerly, hating every second under him, even if your body betrayed you. “Sure do, fucking psycho.”

“Psycho, huh?” You nod again, then gasp in pain as he fills you, stuffing your cunt full in one stroke, making it burn even though you are soaked and prepared somewhat, nothing could really prepare for his huge cock inside you.

“Ah!” You blink back tears, tears that bother him, and they shouldn’t, but now he wants to tenderly brush back your hair, that’s fallen on your brow. He wants to pull back out and prep you more, but you’re an insolent brat who won’t even let him, and he shouldn’t want to.

But your pussy gripping him drives him insane, to the point he could cum in a stroke or two, it’s gripping that fucking good. He can’t take it, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, so you don’t see an already pussy drunk face when he pulls back, shoving his cock even deeper, and feels your nails in his back, digging, hears your little cries of pain.

He wants cries of pleasure.

What the fuck are you doing to him!?

Is it human to have a pussy like this, he wonders, biting back a moan and leaning up, grabbing at one of your thighs to sink deeper, and you hate that it starts to feel good, when he starts fucking into you. Thick cock stretching, as your cunt gushes around him, his tip dragging on some spot that makes your eyes roll back again in pleasure, and this fucker notices.

“She’s fuckin’ soaking my cock, huh? Like it, pathetic little monkey, a sorcerer over you?” You manage to glare, shaking your head, his attractive smirk widening, as he fucks you deeper and harder, and you’re a tremblind mess under him. “Oh no, you don’t hmm?”

“N-no, hate it. Hate you.” He scowls now, as you gulp down moans and cries he’s dying to hear, so he pays attention, to when you’re gasping, clamping down, realizing the spot and angle you’re dying over, so Suguru grins down at you, lifting your thighs up so high he slams your cervix. “Ah!”

“There it is.” He whispers to himself, pressing on the backs of your thighs and slamming your cervix, over and over, as you’re moaning so sexy, your back arching, while he’s folding you damn near in half now. “F-fuck… you feel so…” He stops himself, he can’t say that.

It feels so perfect.

Feels like you’re made to take his cock.

You’re so pretty under him, perspiration on your forehead, eyebrows scrunched, lips red from you biting them, your eyes glazed over. God you’re gorgeous, as his cock is throbbing inside your tight walls, and you’re struggling so hard to act like you hate it, when he’s hitting that spot over and over, his tip dragging on it again and again. You moan out loud, whining when he rolls his hips bottoming out.

“J-just cum, finish it. W-wanna be d-done.” You whisper, he glares now at you.

“Not enjoying it at all?”

“Hate it. B-boring.” Suguru laughs now, shaking his head, slamming into you, and you’re screaming out, convulsing, feeling pressure build and build, realizing with a panic then.

You’re gonna cum.

Not for him, dammit!

You struggle to hold back, shaking your head and covering your face, when he lets your thighs fall to the side, yanking your hands off your face, pinning your wrists above your head with a strong hand, long fingers wrapping your delicate wrists like they’re nothing. You gasp at it, as his other hand yanks you by your hip, slamming you down his length.

“I’ll look upon your face.” He says through his teeth, dying to watch it when you cum, and fuck he feels it, you’re so close. He wants it then, he needs it, you to cum all over him, milking him so good, and your eyes go wide in shock, but they’re already so fucked out. He’s leaking precum inside you, dragging on that spot and watching you unravel for him.

“Why do y-you wanna- mnh, f-fuck!” You’re clinging to the sheets, when Suguru would like you to cling to him, as he sends you over the fucking edge, and he watches your gorgeous face screw up in pleasure, making his cock pulse.

Fuck you’re pretty.

Fuck he hates you for doing this.

He’s never even felt anything better than this.

“Can’t help yourself, huh monkey? Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” He whispers, you shake your head, still pinned under him, and he lays over you, grinding his cock inside you, dark hair on his pelvis just pressing on your neglected clitoris, then you feel it, and he moans. “There it is.”

“No, no, no… f-fuck you… hate… ah!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you can’t even see, all while this psycho watches avidly, and you hate him more for it, for giving you this orgasm that almost makes you faint. “Sh-shit… mnh…”

Your cunt soaks his cock as the orgasm wrecks your brain, as you’re convulsing around his thick veiny cock, with its tip pressing into your cervix, and you’re twitching under him, pathetic. You gasp as he fucks you through it, disoriented and blinking rapidly at how euphoric you feel, listening to the grunts and groans of his and the squelching of your cunt.

“Oh my… f-fuck…” Suguru groans now, unable to hold back any longer, violet eyes so dilated they look black as they drink in your face, lips hovering over yours, cock fucking harder and harder.

You almost cum again, clenching around him, as he moves over you, stuttering in his rhythm finally, faltering just a bit, gripping you tightly as he moans out, his breath hot against your lips, lips he wants to kiss, a mouth he wants to spit inside, tongue he wants to feel on his skin. You’re maddening, he realizes then, as he gets closer to his release, his cock throbbing at your pussy milking him so good.

“Mnh… shit I hate… you…” You whisper, as you’re cumming again, and he grips your wrists so hard they’ve gone numb, starting to pump hot loads of cum inside, you, groaning out loud at how good it feels.

“Milking me, shit… f-feels so fucking perf-” Suguru holds it back, luckily you’re too fucked out to care, as his cum fills you, so hot and gooey, and you’re both gasping for breaths, the room quiet save front he sounds of his cock slipping inside you, and your hearts pounding. “Filled you so fucking good, monkey, hmm?”

“G-good, it’s over…” You whisper, damn near delirious as your aftershocks make your sticky walls grip him, he gasps at it, pumping even more, as he looks into your eyes, feeling too much.

“Y-yes. Over.” He manages to spill out, and you whimper when he kisses your neck, something he shouldn’t indulge in, easing off your wrists and looking at them, his hand left prints clearly.

You ease them down, fingers wresting on his shoulders for a moment, a moment that feels too good, too natural, before you press on him. “Can you go, then?”

“What?” He blinks in confusion, cock still inside of you, fuck he never even wants to leave, so hot and wet and-

“Your seed is inside me, we should be good for now. I’m… sore. Please get off of me.” You look away now, and Suguru’s pulse races, as you refuse to look at him whatsoever when he gets off, easing his cock out of you with a messy pop sound, tensing as he sees the evidence of your innocence between your thighs.

“Let me clean you up.” He murmurs, and you glare, shaking your head and closing your legs then. “Would you just-”

“Fuck you, get out. I don’t need you cleaning me up, we’re good until… I guess whenever we have to do this again.” You stand on wobbly legs, as Suguru stands, looming over you as you head to the shower adjoining the room, grabbing you by the top of your arm. “What!?”

“So eager to run off, monkey? You should thank me.”

You laugh then, ignoring the throb of your pussy and the pounding in your head, fuck him he felt so good in you, you’ve never even felt that good before, not from little orgasms you gave yourself. You hate him more for it, not only did your first time have to be with this ass of a man, a psycho killer, you also came when you didn’t even want to, making it all worse/

“Thank you!? For what!”

“For cumming inside you.” He presses you against the wall then, looming over you so tall, his sweet breath like the grapes of the wine as he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “For making a monkey like you cum.”

“You didn’t make me cum, stupid psycho.” You glare right at him, chest heaving as you speak the lies, but he laughs right down at you, thumb brushing over a lip with teeth indentations from how hard you bit it.

“Didn’t cum? You’re a fucking liar, on top of being pathetic. Useless.”

“Useless, yes except to have your stupid heir. I can’t wait to get pregnant, actually, so I’ll never have to get touched again.”

“Oh yeah, so fucking horrible?”

“Terrible.”

“And you’re disgusting to me.”

“Good!” You shove at his strong chest, slick with sweat, and pause there then, as does he, a hand now entwined at the nape of your neck, as he dies to kiss you, brutally, over and over, but he just holds you there. “Am I done for the night Lord Geto, or whatever the fuck you like to be called?”

He’d like you to scream Suguru.

Fuck.

“Will you just let me clean you up, it was your first time and-”

“Oh no, you’re not gonna play like you care at all. We did what we had to do, what we both had to do, neither of us wanted it, or enjoyed it. Right?” You demand then, raising a brow, and he scowls.

“Not right, and I’m just-”

“I remember it, meeting you, you were… sweet.”

He laughs then. “What?”

“You were, and him? I’d have been happy to do this, but you? I don’t wanna look at you and think of it. Let me go.” He scowls as he goes to grab his clothes now, and you lean against the wall, covering your face, not wanting him to see just how you are affected by him.

“I’ll be putting a curse at your door, to make sure you don’t run.” He says then, making you blink in shock, seeing he’s dressed finally, putting his hair back up.

“I have nowhere to run to.” He pauses at that, jaw locked. “But go ahead, maybe it’ll be better company than you.”

Suguru scoffs. “Clean up.”

“Get out.” You order, finally he turns, walking out, leaving you to step into the shower, letting the hot spray hit you, sore in places you’ve never imagined, thinking just how much you hate him.

You’re sobbing then, under the coverage of the shower, where no one would see you, see what he’s done to you, your mental state in ruins. You scrub everywhere his elegant fingers touched, everywhere his lush lips kissed, hissing when you wash your sore pussy, looking down at your fingers, finding his cum pouring out of you. Hot, sticky white cum washed by the shower.

Steam fills as you slide down to sit in the shower, resting your head on your knees, hating him so much you can barely breathe. Bad enough he fucked you, why did he have to make you enjoy it, why did he act like he cared for your pleasure, cared for you after even? A lie, all a lie, and it’s the last thing you need. 

You will hate him.

Outside your room, Suguru leans his back against your door, trying to catch his breath, head swirling with you, hands shaking as they brush back his hair. You have him shaking, you annoying, stupid brat of a girl, who wouldn’t even let him try to care for you, at all.

Why’d he want to though? You were right, your duty was fulfilled for the night, he should stop thinking of how he’d love to be in that shower with you, how he’s dying to be back inside you, imagining making you admit how good it felt. He could feel your slick on his cock still, wondering if you feel him pouring out of you, dying to breed you again, again, again.

He detests you.

Summoning a curse, a rather derpy looking one shaped like a bull with several eyes, he plops him next to your door now, this is a docile curse he’s had since his youth, bringing back too many memories. Of being happy, of laughing, of a girl named Riko, right before he’d snapped, her riding this curse on its back as they tried their best to save her.

It proved how disgusting humans were that day, lest he ever forget, his fist clenched as he struggles to gain his resolve, looking down at the creature now. “Guard this door.” It nods, tongue lolling out, Suguru sighs then. “Also make sure you… care for the girl in this room. Yes?”

It nods again, as Suguru does not know if you are safe really, surely no one would go against him, but there is much hatred already for humans, and many, many people hate you. But he wants you to be safe, otherwise he’ll just get another bride thrown on him, and who knows if he’d hate her more.

Suguru ends up in his room now, sighing as he sees Manami there with another woman from his cult, he shakes his head as they try to disrobe him. “No, I am not in any sort of mood for it.”

“But Suguru, it must've been awful.” Manami cooes, and the other girl nods, as they rub up and down his arms, making him feel disgusted.

How?

How do they, powerful women, make him disgusted now? He owes you no loyalty, he did not plan to only be with you, but the thought of anyone but you actually makes him sick. What sort of witchcraft do you possess, some new undetectable kind that he hasn’t figured out, to make him feel like this? Are you some weapon to destroy his fucking plans?

“Go. Now.” Suguru orders then, and they pout as they leave, but Suguru can’t get his mind off you, not when he’s washing you off in the shower, every vivid thought of making you enjoy it fills his mind.

Suguru hates you more when he’s stroking his cock to the thought of you whimpering, begging for him, on your knees with your tongue out. He’s moaning as he pinches his tip, he already came so much but he can’t stop how hard he is, thinking of how your eyes would cross as he fucked your throat, as he came so deep and you swallowed him greedy.

Thinking of you riding him, your tits bouncing right in his face, your thighs squeezing his face as he lapped his cup out of your pussy after. ‘F-fuck, you like it, don’t you’ he’s muttering, wet hair sticking to his back as water pounds down, and he’s stroking his cock faster and faster, eyes shutting, vivid pictures of you everywhere.

‘That’s it, good girl, cumming just for me, mine, aren’t you’ he’s stuttering, saying stupid insane shit, so high off your pussy he can’t even talk himself out of it, not when his big hand strokes his thick shaft over and over.

When Suguru cums again he moans out loud, hunching over and gasping for a breath, hating you more for what you’ve done when his sticky cum pours all out of his hand now. He rinses himself off, shaking his head and covering it with his other hand, realizing jerking off was nothing like cumming inside you, like fucking your perfect little pussy.

Just who the fuck are you?

******

The next day of being Suguru’s wife, you open the door and gasp, seeing some bull shaped creature who’s grinning at you, several eyes wide open as it licks your leg, making you squeak. “What!?”

“He likes you.” Comes Mimiko’s voice, she’s poking around on her phone, and you take a breath, smiling a bit.

Just because Suguru is a psychotic dick, it doesn’t mean you’d take it out on little girls, or oddly cute curses. “Can I pet it?” You ask, and Nanako giggles next to her sister, stepping closer.

“He’s docile.” She pets him then, and the thing damn near purrs, you bend down on your knees now, petting him yourself, sighing.

“He’s kinda cute?” They burst out in laughter, leaving the hall then, as you find the first bit of comfort in one of stupid, psycho Suguru’s curses. “You like me?”

He nods, licking on your cheek, you swipe at it, wincing as it runs off, and suddenly Suguru Geto is standing right in front of you, as you’re just on your knees still, looking up at him. Vivid insane thoughts fill you, as you feel your tummy clench, pussy so sore from him still, thinking of the dreams you’d had of this ass of a man, and now you’re just… there.

He freezes when he sees your hair fall back, loose and flowing, shimmering likely from your shower, and you’re right where he pictured you, what he jerked himself to over and over. The urge to pull out his cock and fuck your pretty face was overwhelming, driving him so insane his cock responds violently, already leaking precum, annoying him to no end.

He’d turned down more women this morning, because now he’s coming to a really annoying realization- he wants you. Only you. He’s blaming his stupid body, for wanting a petty human, but it’s undeniable, while you just blink and look up for a moment, before you clear your throat, standing and grabbing the door way, looking away now.

“Where’d the curse go? I like him.”

“You like him!?”

“Better than you, I was right. He’s cuter.” You smile then, and he glares, grabbing you right by your throat, only making you laugh.

“Who’s the psycho here, me or you?” He whispers, and you grip his wrist now, as he looks how pretty your neck is with his hand around it, as he looks at glossy lips he wants to kiss.

“Gonna kill me before the heir?” You whisper, when he squeezes just so.

“Tempting to do so.” He whispers against your lips, and you come to a very annoying realization of your own, when your nipples tighten, when your pussy drips from him choking you.

You want this psycho.

Just your body, you’ll just blame that, but it’s undeniable, and it makes you despise him more. “Go for it, put me outta my misery. Won’t have to look at you.” You say, he squeezes harder, stepping a little further in the room, as you feel lightheaded, and fucking horny.

What’s wrong with you!?

“Why don’t we work harder on making it happen then?”

“Now!?” You demand, and he shuts the door, smirking, undoing his black robes as you rub your sore neck.

“Now.”

Taglist open for parts two and three if you're not on it already <3 Hope you enjoyed this, I know Geto doesn't hit like my Gojo or Sukuna posts, but I rly tried lol. Can't wait to see what ya'll think!

Taglist #1- @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @rjreins @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @angelzrulez21-blog @espresso1patronum @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @silvarys @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @tojicvmslut @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @soyokosuguru @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @voideddd @maddyhehehehhe @norikuna @yenayaps @alygator77 perm tags (rest in rbs) @honeybunnnnie @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw

[hoshifighting]

Hii so like could you either each member reaction or a drabble with woozi (whatever you're more comfortable writing) being sub and you riding them/him and making them cum over and over until they are milked up dry and cannot physically cum anymore

riding seventeen until they cant physically cum anymore (getting milked dry)

WARNINGS: smut, strong overstimulation, cock riding, sensitive content, may not be comfortable to some audiences, you're warned.

seungcheol: starts giggling. not in a “haha that tickles” way but in an “i am so fucked out of my mind i don’t even know what’s happening anymore” way. GETS IN DENIAL TOO!!. like, he’s still gripping your hips, trying to thrust up into you even though his dick is not responding. “no, i can—i can go again, baby, just—just gimme a sec—” except it’s been five minutes, and all he’s done is twitch pathetically underneath you. when you tell him he’s done, he gets all pouty, brows furrowed, whispering, “fuck… you really drained me dry?” like he just realized he isn’t the tank he thought he was.

jeonghan: not even moving anymore. fully limp, sprawled out, arms above his head, legs twitching, eyes hazy as he blinks at the ceiling. broken. defeated. ruined. you squeeze him and there’s nothing—just a weak, pitiful little tremor. “honey, i think you killed me,” he mutters, voice raspy as hell, before exhaling real deep, like he just finished a marathon. gives up completely, just lays there, blinking at you like you just rewired his entire system.

joshua: on the verge of tears. whimpering. shaking. clinging. you try to grind down on him again, but his hips jolt so hard, you swear he’s about to short-circuit. “baby—oh my god—i cant—icanticanticanticanicant” and it’s the most broken, high-pitched plea you’ve ever heard. his hands weakly push at your thighs, but they have no strength.

junhui: prob laughing in disbelief. giggling, eyes red and watery, his head lolled to the side, looking at you with this dazed-ass grin. “oh my god, i’m so done,” he breathes, chest heaving, abs clenching, still twitching with aftershocks. you grind down just a little, just to test, and his whole body spasms, a wrecked whimper escaping him before he laughs even harder, shaking his head like, “nah, babe, you actually ended me. oh? i cant feel my legs? ”

hoshi: BRO IS CLINGING FOR LIFE. good luck with the bruises, because he is full-on latching onto you, fingers digging into your skin, forehead pressed to your shoulder, legs raising in desperate spasms all the time, entire body trembling. “baby, baby, i—i can’t—oh my god—i swear~~~” his voice sooooo broken, and every time his dick twitches uselessly, he lets out the softest little sob, hiding his face in your neck like he’s so embarrassed that you just milked him out of existence.

wonwoo: completely unresponsive. eyes glazed over. mouth open. chest barely rising. looks like he just got hit by a bus. his arms are flopped uselessly at his sides, and when you move, his thighs twitch involuntarily. you squeeze around him and nothing happens—no pulse, no twitch, just nothing. “holy fuck,” he mutters like he just got his soul snatched straight out of his body.

woozi: shaking like a fucking leaf. wrists trembling, legs trembling, hands trembling, chin trembling, abs trembling, breath completely uneven, looking up at you like you just broke him beyond repair. “b-baby, i—i don’t have anything left—” and his voice cracks so hard, you actually feel a little bad. he tries to lift his hips, tries to respond to you, but his body refuses, and when you tell him it’s over, he just collapses back against the sheets. he's not a biiiig fan of aftercare, but that night, he will accept everything you can to repair his pieces together.

minghao: fully dissociating. bro is just staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, hands twitching, looking like he just had an out-of-body experience. you say his name and it takes him five full seconds to even register it. you squeeze around him, testing, and his head instantly tilts back, a wrecked groan falling from his lips, but there’s nothing left. “nah, that’s it, babe,” he breathes, completely spent, just laying there in absolute surrender.

mingyu: whimpering so much, you actually think he might start crying. clinging onto you, lips trembling, eyes wet, entire body twitching. “i—i can’t cum anymore—...?” and his voice breaks mid-sentence, you don't even know if its an affirmation or a quesiton bc he literally can’t. when you try to grind down one more time, his hips buck so hard, he yells, then collapses back, panting, eyes rolling back into his head.

seokmin: fully overstimulated beyond belief. whimpering, shaking, eyes glassy, hands weakly grabbing at your hips like he’s trying to slow you down but has no strength left. “b-baby, please—!!!” when you finally stop, he physically melts into the bed, body slack, chest heaving, just laying there shaking and completely ruined.

seungkwan: full-body twitching. thighs shaking, abs twitching, arms weakly draped over his face, hiding his wrecked expression. “fuck, baby, i’m—i’m done—” he gasps, his voice hoarse as hell, sounding like he just ran up a mountain. when you finally let him go, he just lets out the deepest, shakiest sigh, body going completely slack.

vernon: completely unresponsive part 2. bro is just laying there, eyes blank, mouth slightly open, looking like he just got his entire EXISTENCE reset. you say his name, and nothing. you touch his thigh, and nothing. when he finally blinks, he just tilts his head towards you, chest still rising and falling rapidly “you actually fucked me dry.”

chan: thought he could handle it but by the fourth orgasm, he was whimpering, “no more, no more—”, so now, he is completely silent. doesn’t even try to talk, just stares at you, mouth slightly open, eyes red form crying. he just lays there, staring at you like you just fried his last brain cell.

[goldfades]

sweet on you Joe thanking his wife during his MVP speech when he wins pretty pretty pleaseeeee

omg yes! this idea has been floating around as soon as you sent this ask. hope you enjoy!!! sweet on you will be back i promise, just need the motivation to finish :) and yes in this universe he DID win mvp

MVP SPEECH FT. SWEET ON YOU

The stadium was deafening. Fans roared, confetti rained down in gold and white, and the cameras were all on him—Joe Burrow, the newly crowned MVP, standing under the bright lights, trying to keep himself together.

He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, exhaling a slow breath as he adjusted the microphone in front of him. The trophy was heavy in his other hand, but it wasn’t the weight of the metal that had his chest tight—it was everything leading up to this moment. The years of hard work, the sacrifices, the unwavering support from those who had been there since the beginning. And more than anyone else, it was her.

Joe cleared his throat, the noise dying down just a fraction as he leaned in. “Man,” he started, shaking his head with a small, breathless laugh. “This is—this is crazy. I don’t even know where to start.”

The crowd cheered again, cameras flashing, but his eyes weren’t searching for them. They were searching for her.

And then he found her.

Sitting in the front row, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes glassy and bright, looking at him like he had just hung the damn moon.

His wife.

His whole world.

Joe swallowed hard, gripping the mic a little tighter. “Obviously, there’s a long list of people I need to thank—my teammates, my coaches, my family. None of this happens without you guys. But, uh—” he huffed out a soft, nervous laugh, shaking his head before glancing at her again. “There’s one person in particular who—God, I don’t even know if I have the words.”

The crowd fell a little quieter, as if they could sense this was something important.

Joe smiled, softer now, and only for her.

“My wife,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You’ve been with me through everything. Before all of this—before the trophies, before the headlines, before anyone knew my name. You believed in me when I was just some kid with a dream. You stood by me through every high, every low, every doubt I ever had about myself. And somehow, through it all, you loved me.”

She was already crying, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe him, even though she should have known by now just how much he meant every word.

Joe chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he glanced down at the trophy for a second, then back up at her. “I know I work a lot, and I know there have been nights where football took me away more than it should have. But not once—not once—have you ever made me feel like I was in this alone. And I need you to know—I need everyone to know—that I wouldn’t be standing up here if it weren’t for you.”

A collective aww rippled through the audience, but Joe didn’t even hear it. He was locked in, focused only on her, watching as she wiped at her cheeks, smiling like she wanted to scold him for making her cry in public.

“And Hayes,” he added, his voice hitching just slightly at the mention of their son. “Our boy. I hope one day, when he’s old enough to understand all of this, he knows just how lucky he is to have a mom like you.”

She let out a teary laugh, covering her mouth again, and Joe grinned.

“I love you,” he said simply, his heart in his throat. “More than football. More than anything.”

The crowd erupted in cheers again, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the way she looked at him in that moment, like he was the greatest thing she had ever seen. Like she had always known he was capable of this, long before he ever did.

And when he stepped down from the stage a few moments later, trophy in one hand, the other reaching for her, she was already there—waiting, arms open, eyes shining, love pouring out of her like a flood.

She kissed him, right there in front of everyone, not caring about the cameras or the eyes on them.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured against his lips, laughing softly as she pulled back just enough to look at him.

Joe grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I meant every word.”

And when he kissed her again, the whole world could have disappeared, and he wouldn’t have cared. Because this—she—was his greatest victory of all.

[norrisjpg]

only angel - ʟɴ⁴

the one where she can’t help but be curious, so he teaches her a few things — before he returns the favour.

part one | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten

contains; fluff, softdom!lando, nsfw, smut; implied masturbation, handjob, fingering, squirting, praise kink; inexperienced!femoc, talks of loss of virginity, swearing.

…

…

it had been a week or so since their encounter, and things had changed between the two of them — makeout sessions, dark hickeys etched into collarbones, soft squeezes of her ass when they were alone.

it was a lazy sunday afternoon, and the summer break was well and truly in full swing. lando had gotten used to the idea of a quiet sunday afternoon now, lounging around the apartment after brunch with lily.

but this? this was way better than lounging around.

her hips were grinding into his slowly, torturously slowly. their lips were practically moulded together at this point, made for each other. his hand was wrapped around her throat, he had learned that she liked that pretty quickly — the other splayed across her lower back, keeping her pressed to him.

he nipped at her lower lip as she deepened the circular motion she was drawing with her pelvis. a soft whimper escaped his lips as her hands dragged through his curls, tugging at the shorter hairs at the base of his hairline. he pushed his hips up toward her, his cock having been painfully hard and aching for the best part of the last ten minutes.

with blind confidence, her hand travelled down to the growing bulge in lando’s loose joggers, pressing her palm against it. he moaned up into her mouth, bucking his hips into her hand. he was pathetic, whimpering into her lips as he squeezed his eyes even further shut — but it was so fucking hot.

knock! knock! knock!

so fucking hot, that she had forgotten inviting alexandra and charles over for dinner that evening.

“fuck.” she pulled away, her eyes widening as she realised the nature of what was about to happen — alexandra and charles were about to enter her apartment and lando had a raging hard-on. “uh— go to your room, i’ll say you’re napping, sort yourself out, and then come out.”

lando huffed like a child, and he murmured a quick, “fine.”

she nodded softly and climbed off of his lap, smoothing down her skirt and adjusting her top.

"go!" lily ushered quietly, raising her eyebrows at the dazed man with swollen lips and dilated pupils on the sofa in front of her.

knock! knock! knock!

"coming!" she called back quickly, touching up her hair and assessing the light redness on her throat - not entirely sure whether it was from lando's hand or from the hotness of the whole situation.

alexandra and charles were stood outside of the norris-ainsley apartment, a few looks being shared between the couple as they listened in on the shuffling inside.

however, they were interrupted a few seconds later when the door flew open and a rather flustered looking lily opened the door.

"sorry," she smiled softly, stepping aside for the pair to enter. "come in."

-

lando had re-emerged almost an hour later, and lily shot him a look, 'what took you so long?' - to which he just shrugged with a small smirk in response.

alexandra and lily were now alone in the apartment, lando and charles going to look at the renovations the brit was doing on his car - leaving the italian to ask as many questions as she wanted.

"lily, love, lando has been staring at you for the past half an hour." alexandra stated matter-of-factly. "what on earth is going on there?"

lily laughed a little, her cheeks betrayingly flushing a pastel pink. "it's nothing."

"i'll believe that when he doesn't look at you for more than thirty seconds." she took a sip of her wine, raising her eyebrows a little. "is there something you're not telling me, miss ainsley?"

"maybe, maybe not." she shrugged innocently, aware that she couldn't lie to alexandra's face. "you'll have to wait and see."

alexandra practically squealed and put her wine down to clap her hands together, "i have been waiting for this to happen for fucking years!"

-

it was a lot later than lando would have like when alexandra and charles left the apartment, and he could tell that lily was tired now. he didn't want to push it, but he also didn't want to spend the night alone.

so, once he had helped her clean up in the kitchen, and tidy up the living room, and assisted her with the online shopping for the next week — she had an idea of what was going on.

“lando, i’m tired.” she murmured when he sat down next to her on the couch — sort of just assuming he wanted something sexual.

“i know, darling.” lando replied softly, putting his arm on the chair behind her.

“so you don’t need to like… make an effort or anything,” she began. “i’m too tired to do anything tonight.”

he furrowed his brows deeply at the woman, she just thought he was being nice because he wanted her for something physical?

“what? no, i was going to ask if you wanted to stay in my room tonight,” lando told her quietly, a little hurt by the fact she’d think that. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to… i just, yeah.”

“oh,” her hands froze on the keyboard, oh?

“uh… yeah — you really thought i was going to ask for… that, because i was being helpful?”

“i mean… i don’t know, i assumed.” lily sighed softly, looking at him briefly. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, can i get a kiss though?” he asked sweetly, keening for her touch.

she briefly leaned to peck him on the lips, and lando frowned. he rolled his eyes and tilted her head back toward him with his fingers hooked under her chin — pulling her into a chaste kiss.

his tongue slid into her mouth, and he grabbed at her needily. lily melted into the kiss and, of course, it was reciprocated with her hands grabbing at his hair and her lips parting for him.

he broke the kiss after a few moments, smiling softly and pecking her lips briefly again.

“thankyou baby.”

this definitely wasn’t normal.

-

the morning, however, that was a different story.

lily was the first to awake, and she immediately noticed the tent underneath the duvet. it’s not like she didn’t know what it was — she’d watched porn, of course, what’s a girl to do with no good dick in her life?

she was intrigued to say the least, lando’s boxers didn’t do much to conceal his size, and fucking hell how was that ever supposed to fit inside of her?

her hand wanted so badly to just travel down and brush her fingers against the tight fabric of his underwear, but she knew she couldn’t — that would be wrong and he was asleep.

so she waited, until he woke up.

lando felt it as soon as his eyes opened, and it was now his turn to turn crimson.

“fuck…” he murmured out. “i’m so sorry.”

she was biting her lip as she gazed at him, a hint of hunger in her eyes.

“i…” she breathed out. “can i?”

“can you what?” lando furrowed his eyebrows, his mind a little too hazy with sleep to understand what she was getting at.

“um…” lily mumbled. “can i.. uh… touch you?”

“oh.” seriously dude, is that the extent of your vocabulary?

she stayed silent, lying there in wait for his flustered response — completely unaware of the way she was looking at him or the effect it was having on the strength of his boxers.

“yeah, please.” lando almost stuttered out, nodding quickly.

lily nodded and licked her lips, gently tugging the covers off of the two of them. she crawled down his body, until her dainty fingertips reached the waistband of his flimsy boxers. she hooked her index finger over the centre of them and dragged them down his hips agonisingly slowly.

but nothing beat the look on her face when his cock sprung out and slapped up against his abdomen — having become extremely turned on by this entire situation.

dazed was the only way he could have described it, the way her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights, the way her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, the way her hand faltered on his boxers.

“fucking hell,” she breathed out, subconsciously leaning a little closer.

he thought she could have literally grabbed him right there and then, and taken him nice and deep down her throat — because that’s exactly what the look in her eye was saying.

“you good, lil?” lando asked softly, his voice a tiny bit strained.

“you’re fucking huge.” she said bluntly, her lips parted a little.

he let out a nervous chuckle, reaching down to stroke her hair briefly — “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, sweetheart.”

she wasn’t listening though, her mouth practically watered at the sight of his cock all red and angry, the tip leaking a fair amount of pre-cum. he was just so delicious, ready for her to sink nice and deep wherever she wanted — but she wasn’t ready for that just yet.

so, instead, her fingertips brushed against the thick vein on the underside of his length, that of a whimper leaving his lips. then, she slowly but surely let her hand wrap around the base of his cock, and started to pump.

he moaned out at the feeling of her hand on him alone, but he needed more — and this was for her to gain experience, right?

so, he reached down and grabbed her hand, a reassuring look on his face. he brought her thumb up to the tip of his cock, and took a deep breath before pressing her thumb down on the slit and rubbing it in circular motions.

“mhm—” lando struggled to speak between moans. “like that— fuck… wanna rub like that— tip is the most sensitive part… mhmmm— and needs lube too…”

it’s like something came over her, something new, because before he could even speak again — there was a thick splatter of warm saliva dripping down his cock.

“that’s my girl,” he praised, head tossed back against the pillow underneath him. “just like that.”

lando moaned when he felt her hand begin to pump again, slick sounds emerging from the lack of friction. it was almost embarrassing how close he was already, his aching member twitching in anticipation of a euphoric high.

“lily— ohmyfuckinggod… shit i’m so close—” lando fucking writhed underneath the simple motions of her wrist, pumping up and down and swiping her thumb over the sensitive slit of his cock every time her palm reached the tip. “gonna— fuuuuck…”

his hips bucked up frantically, chasing the impeccable high of his orgasm. all it took was one extra squeeze of the tip, and he broke. she stroked him through it as thick ropes of hot, sticky cum splattered over his lower tummy and her hand, broken whines and whimpers leaving his lips as he bordered on getting overstimulated.

“ah- ah- too much.” lando pleaded softly, grabbing at her wrist so she would stop. “you sure you’ve never done that before? fucking incredible you are.”

lily laughed sheepishly with a blush, pulling his boxers back up and tucking his cock in neatly.

“go and shower, i’ll make breakfast.” lily nodded softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before slipping away into the kitchen — leaving him sweaty and practically panting on the bed.

-

“c’mere.” lando patted his lap, gazing up at the girl placing a plate down on the coffee table in front o him.

“lando, i have to do the dishes—”

“sit. here.” lando patted his thigh again. “now.”

lily swallowed softly and climbed onto his lap, placing her hands on his shoulders instinctively. lando was craving her approval, he was desperate to make her feel good after their morning escapades.

his lips were on her’s immediately, hungrily nipping at her lower lip as his hands gripped her waist tightly, fingers pressing into her lower back.

again, this definitely wasn’t normal for just a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement, but we move.

a breathy moan left her lips when lando’s hands slipped under the back of her shorts to her ass cheeks, kneeding them apart and squeezing them hard enough to leave hand prints.

“lando,” she protested into his lips — they both knew she didn’t want to stop, but the girl had stuff to do.

“shut up.” lando said bluntly into her lips, and well, that was the end of her protesting. “spread your legs for me.”

she obliged, lifting her hips and opening her legs wide for him, allowing his hand to slip below the waistband of her pretty cotton underwear.

his fingers traced the sensitive bundle of nerves near the apex of her pussy, before gliding a little lower to tease her entrance.

“gonna let me have this one today, right, pretty girl?” lando asked softly, his previous brooding dominance having passed.

“yeah, yeah.” the angel on his lap breathed, wet and needy, their lips brushing against each other. “can have it, i’m ready.”

he nodded at lily, teasing his middle finger around the tight hole — dipping into the soft skin near the passage. a final nod of her head confirmed it for him, and soon enough he was sliding his finger forward.

he sunk his middle finger in first, slowly pushing in until the knuckle. a soft gasp escaped her lips, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. it wasn’t uncomfortable — new, unfamiliar maybe — but definitely not uncomfortable.

“lan,” she gasped out when he curled it to press against the delectable spongey spot inside of her.

he pumped it slowly and softly at first, not bothering to slide it in and out yet at the risk of overwhelming her — he wanted to treat her like glass.

soon enough, she was begging, pleading for more, eyes fluttering open and closed as he pumped his finger in and out of her tight heat.

“gonna add a second, m’kay, baby?” lando rasped, gazing into her hazy eyes.

“yeah, okay, okay.” she panted out, eyebrows arched and hips resisting the urge to start fucking his hand.

within around thirty seconds, lily was stretched around two of his thick fingers, curling to hit the right spot every single time. the burn was palpable, but she craved it deeply. part of her just wanted to split herself in half on his thick cock, fuck him until he spilled inside of her, and keep him there forever — but she knew she wasn’t quite ready, and that the last part was impossible too.

he was pumping in and out with precision, circling her bundle of nerves with his other thumb while pressing down on her lower abdomen with his long fingers.

“lando, fuck gonna— fuck, fuck, fuck!” lily moaned out needily, grabbing at his back. “right there-right there-right there—”

the knot coiled through what felt like her entire body was insufferably tight, and a liquid pressure was building up inside of her — almost as if she was going to pee.

“lando— feels like— yes!” her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her nails digging into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“go on, baby.” lando coaxed gently, quickening the circles to her clit and making each flick of his fingers more precise. “come for me, let me hear you.”

something of a scream ripped through her throat, and pretty, clear liquid squirted from her pussy down onto his wrist, drenching his expensive rolex — but he couldn’t give less of a fuck. her legs shook around him, high-pitched whines and whimpers leaving her lips as she came down from her incredible high.

she was fucking floating, blissed out in his lap with no care in the world.

“you okay, lily?” lando asked, a little concerned at the peacefully withdrawn look on her face.

“ten outta ten.” she replied, breathing a little rapidly.

he chucked at her comment, pressing a kiss to her cheek briefly, “come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

-

hellooooo, sorry i ditched you all, i’m ill and all that jazz. i have seen all of your requests for a tag list, but i’m in paris until friday — so i’ll do one when i get home! i hope you’re all well, and i missed you all while i was gone!!

[emmyrosee]

You and Osamu do not have time for this.

Sitting in the doctors office, osamu’s knee bounces up and down anxiously, his hands covering his mouth and his body sending waves of nerves through the air.

You’ve been sick for the past week, dizzy and nauseous, fatigue coursing through your soul and rendering you on bed rest for the week. You haven’t been able to work, or help him at the restaurant, and while he assured you it wasn’t a problem, but the elephant in the room was that you didn’t feel good, and you haven’t for days.

It wasn’t until you started running to the bathroom to fight the nausea that he decided enough was enough and decided to take you to the doctor. You feel terrible, today you were supposed to help Atsumu’s wife help with hisako’s birthday planning since stupid dumb Atsumu is away due to a tournament.

(Okay, potentially that’s the nausea talking. You haven’t slept in a few days.)

“Osamu?” You ask softly.

He hums. You let out a shaky breath.

“Do you think-“

“Im trying hard not to.”

You offer him a laugh for his attempt to break up the awkward silence.

“What if im fine? Will you be mad if this is all for nothing?”

“Baby,” he assures, reaching for your hand. “I’m not playing when it comes to your health. You know that. And even if you’ve been faking this entire thing- which you’re not- I couldn’t be happier to be here, making sure.” He presses a kiss to your head, and you nuzzle into his neck.

You both jump at the sound of the door opening, a call of your name snapping you out of your mind surfing. The doctor plants herself across from you both; she looks calm, and you take that as a good sign.

“Whats wrong with her, doctor?”

“Isnt there a better way to word that?” You hiss.

His eyes widen, “you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well how did you mean it!”

The doctor chuckles, “nothing. There’s nothing wrong with her. Perfectly healthy, Miya-San.”

Osamu’s the first to let out a sigh. Then, he pulls you close eyes screwed shut as you let out a small cry of relief. You bury your face in his chest and fist the collar of his shirt, relief washing over you. You feel light as a feather, able to come out of this with an update to Atsumu’s wife that you’ll be late but you’re on your way, false alarm, and-

“Well. Nothing that won’t resolve itself in nine months.”

You two freeze. Comedically, your faces both drop and after a few seconds, you both turn to the doctor.

She smiles, “congratulations kids. You’re having a baby.”

“Thats…. Not possible.”

“Then consider it a miracle,” the doctor hums.

“But… but we-“

“Doctor, I truly think you’re…. Mistaken….” His voice trails off and he grips your hand, trying to calm himself down.

“Modern science truly is a gift.”

Your entire world spins as you try to pinpoint when and how this happened, you’d been so careful, so sure to be safe because you and Osamu do not have time for this.

But then, Osamu laughs.

It starts as a snicker, a little shake of his shoulders before it blossoms into a bigger, deeper laugh, one that comes from his chest and swirls around the room happily. When you look at him incredulously, looking at him as if you could kill him, he shrugs at you, cheeks split into a grin that’s bright enough to match the sun.

“We’re having a baby,” he manages around his laughter.

Then, you snort. In your peripheral, you see the doctor smile.

“We’re having a baby,” you agree.

[isaspsp]

I think my parents did pretty similar things. I'm feeling sensitive right now so, story sharing time.

I did misbehave every now and then, as all kids do. I don't remember this incident, but my mom does. I was doing whatever naughty thing, and she hit me to make me stop and discipline me. I stopped, started crying, and went away. My mom never hit me after that. She says it's one of her biggest regrets.

I remember when we got our big TV. I was maybe 8-9 and we had been at the store all day. I wasn't particularly interested in picking out a TV cus that seemed like adult business, and children have no right to poke their nose of that. But then, my dad crouches next to me, points to the final two tvs they were deciding between, and asked me which one I thought was best. And I do remember asking, "Why are you asking me this? I am a child." He laughed and said something among the lines of, "Children are always honest." And that gave me all the confidence and reassurance to choose what would be our TV for the next 10+ years.

They took the effort to see my side aswell. I grew up with my cousins. We were 6 kids in total, and with two of them being older, we 4 youngsters played together a lot. Of these four, the oldest used to bully me a lot (I bit him really hard once as revenge, but that is another story) and I had two younger cousins, the youngest of which, was the one I saw most often. He would come with us to trips and such. But he was the younger child, so he had preferences over me. If I had anything he wanted, I HAD to share. If he wanted to sit where I was, I had to move, lest he makes a fuss. But, if he had something that I wanted? He was under no obligation to share. It was Easter time, I was about 13 (?), and we had gotten ourselves fancy chocolate eggs. My aunt had gone along with us to shop. I'd done my research at the site of the store we were going to, so I knew exactly what I wanted. My aunt didn't know what to get my cousin, so she followed my lead and got him the same two eggs. My aunt used to be paid to clean our house once in a while and just so happened that that week my little cousin had come along. I was going to travel that weekend, and my eggs would be left behind, I'd only have them when we came back. So, having been thinking and fantasizing about the chocolate eggs for weeks, I sneaked around, opened one of the boxes, grabbed a piece, ate some, and put the rest in the refrigerator My aunt saw me do this. Later, my parents confronted me about it; my aunt had told them what happened, that I tried to hide just so I wouldn't have to share. I started crying about how if I didn't sneak around I would've had to share with my cousin, who had the exact same egg at his home, who wouldn't have to wait to come back from a trip, and that I would never get the same kindness back, the piece he would've taken from me, the egg that I so researched to get, that I beheaved and did well in school to get, I would have to give away, even if it was a small piece, and tgat, even if I asked nicely, my cousin wouldve said no, and nothing would be done anout it. And the damn was broken, so I mentioned also all the other times I had to give in because I was older, he was younger and I was bigger and could hurt him more. They looked at each other... and agreed with me. I was forced to share less after that. I still shared, of course, but now... I wasn't forced as much. (At least by my parents, we couldn't control everyone or course u_u)

I genuinely remember very VERY few times of my parents taking away my stuff or banning m3 from activities. If I remember at all, because all I have are "vague feelings" that it happened. And honestly, I think I turned out better for it.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[st7rnioioss]

can u do bsf!chris taking off inexperienced!reader's virginity?

BSF!CHRIS TAKING INEXPERIENCED!READER'S VIRGINITY

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬... smut!!, fluff, softdom!chris, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), kissing, swearing.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the air and atmosphere in chris’s room was all hot and cloudy. every breath felt heavier than the last one, the close proximity of the two of you making it hard to breathe.

you were sitting on top of chris. it all sort of happened so quickly neither of you got to comprehend it—but here you were, on top of chris, your tongue gliding over his while mindlessly reaching and touching his chest, gripping his shirt.

chris’s focus was everywhere else than on the movie playing in the back, long forgotten. he was way too busy trying to kiss the best he could. his hands were everywhere, but mostly resting on her hips which were starting to jerk forward.

“chris, can.. can we go further with this?” your voice was quiet and meek, almost too shy to ask.

you’d gone over the topic of sex with chris a couple times, and you always said you’d know when you were ready, because you wanted to—mostly you wanted it to be chris, not someone else. you let him know of that.

chris’s eyes widened at the question you just asked to casually, but he didn’t want to dwell on it, so he nodded. “o-okay.. i mean, are you sure you want to, it’s not just the heat of the moment?” his voice was soft, his lips plump and hands caressing your sides. “no, i’m sure chris, i’m ready.” your words were like honey to him, delicate and sweet while you avoided his eyes.

his hands cupped your face, finally making you look directly at him. “are you sure?” you nodded slowly, staring back at him with an soft smile, almost not there. swiftly, he kissed your forehead, before he started to take off his shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor next to you. your legs were already straining from being on top of him for so long, so you shimmied away.

you watched intently as he got undressed, almost forgetting about your own clothes, quickly discarding your shirt. “um, chris?” you spoke up, meeting his eyes once more. “what’s up?” you sucked in a breath, staring at his bare chest you so desperately wanted to feel and kiss at like usually. “is it’s okay if i keep my bra on?” chris stared back at you, offering you a sweet smile and a nod. “yeah, that’s- that’s okay. don’t worry.”

you nodded again, quickly going back to unbuttoning your pants, messily pushing them down your legs and ankles so you were left in your underwear. chris was too left in only his boxers, the two of you sitting with a good distance on the bed.

“okay, just lay back for me,” he instructed, shuffling closer to you, watching as you got into position. “is this okay?” you whispered, your hands awkwardly resting on your stomach while staring up at the man on top of you. “it’s perfect,” he leaned over you, both hands next to your head. “if you want me to stop, just say the word, okay? or slap me, or just-“ he laughed, watching as you broke into a giggle. “okay, i’ll slap you.”

he chuckled along with you, slowly shifting further down the bed, his hands following down the sides of your arms. chris’s eyes met yours, and when you nodded he gently rested his hands on your knees to spread them apart. he never wanted to look away, your panties already sticky and damp, a patch forming on the fabric.

“holy shit..” he whispered to himself, his palms smoothing up your inner thighs, before his thumb stroked the wet fabric. a moan slipped from your lips, and in pure embarrassment you slapped a hand over your lips. “hey,” he said, looking back up at you. “i wanna hear you.”

with red cheeks and a shy smile, you removed your hand from your mouth, letting it thread through his hair. “that- that felt really good,” you mumbled, making chris snap back out of the trance he was in. “yeah? d’you like it?” he couldn’t help but smirk, letting his thumb continue to carefully rubbing.

another pathetic whimper slipped, and before long you felt his slender fingers hook under the material of your panties. “tell me to stop if you need to..” you rolled your eyes with a groan, growing impatient. “chris, i just need you to touch me, i’ll let you know!” you whined, making him smirk. “okay okay, sorry.”

your panties met the floor with swift movements while chris admired the naked sight of you. his hard dick was already straining against his jeans, bucking his hips into the mattress. “you’re so fucking wet already,” he looked at your soaked folds, glistening and slick. his thumb ran down your walls up to your sensitive bud, making a moan rip from your throat and fingers tighten their grip on his hair.

“touch me please, it hurts..” you whimpered, your hips grinding into his weak touch. chris quickly reached for your leg, throwing one of them over his shoulders with a gentle touch. his fingers returned to your pussy, his middle finger making its way to your slit while his thumb rubbed slow circles on your clit. “keep going chris..” your voice was weak, but loud enough for him to hear your pleading.

chris slowly entered his finger into your hole, his eyes stuck on your face to watch your reaction, and he nearly came in his goddamn pants from the sight of your jaw dropping, eyes rolling back, and back arching. your walls fluttered around his finger as he slowly retracted it, before pushing it back it. “does it hurt? at all?” his words were soft and gentle, keeping his pace slow. “n-no, it feels really good,” you shook your head, your mind enveloping the feeling of his touch.

chris smiled, carefully adding another finger to your dripping pussy, emitting a moan of his name from your lips. his eyes were stuck to your cunt, watching you clench around the two digits pumping in and out of you easily from the slick coating his fingers. “c-chris i think i'm gonna cum,” you whined, only moaning louder when his pace on your clit sped up, immediately releasing around his fingers.

“you’re doing so good, so perfect for me..” he whispered, listening to the sweet noises you let out shamelessly, pulsing around his fingers. he was quick to withdraw them, popping them into his mouth to lick off your slick. “taste so perfect too..”

within a few seconds, his boxers were throwing on the floor, his hand next to your head, the other one lining his cock up with your walls. “it might hurt a little..” he mumbled, but slowly aligned his leaking tip with your walls, his sticky precum mixing with your precious release. “it’s- it’s fine, just go slow please..”

and he did—chris slowly pushing the tip of his dick inside your drooling pussy, watching your face scrunch up in discomfort. “o-ow, that hurts like hell,” you whimpered, fingers digging into the skin of his shoulder to steady yourself from slipping out of reality. “sorry, i’m sorry,” he kissed your lips gently, stilling his movements. a minute or two later of kissing and comforting, chris stuffed more of his length into you.

his free hand grabbed grabbed your breast, still clad in a bra. “you’re so fucking right, oh my god. you feel s’good.” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut when he plunged most of his length into you. your own eyes screwed shut as well, pain striking through your body momentarily, before it subsided into pleasure in the matter of a few minutes.

“you can move, i think,” you weakly murmured beneath him, making his hips stutter and eyes open to look down at your pretty, pink face—now your eyebrows were knitted up in pleasure, lips parted, and eyes still pinched shut. “f-feels good,”

chris nodded with a laugh, the knuckles of his hand grabbing the sheets next to your head, turning white. you wrapped your legs around him to press him closer when his hips started moving, pulling his cock almost all the way out, before thrusting it back in. with every buck of his hips, the painful stretch of his cock spreading you open felt more and more pleasurable, sending your mind into a frenzy with a loud moan. you were squeezing around him, your nails clawing at his broad shoulders for some sort of stability.

“harder p-please. harder chris,” you let out a cry, feeling his pace pick up gradually. chris let out a breathless laugh at your wish, but he didn’t hold back from stuffing his dick harder into you with every thrust. “you like this, hm? tell me how it feels being fucked by your best friend,” his words caused you to let out a guttural moan. it was a half-lie, because just as much as he was your best friend, he was your boyfriend too—but yet his words sent a particular chill down your spine, making you clench around his cock.

“g-good.. s’good..” you pathetically mumbled, opening your eyes to look up at him, his face flushed and forehead glistening. the sight was enough to make your legs quiver around his waist, a groan followed by a whimper of his name leaving your lips. “you’re so fucking beautiful.. think you’re gonna cum?” his voice was strained and breathless, his fingers sneaking from your breast to place two of them on your clit, rubbing in careful circles while looking down to meet your eyes.

you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer with a nod, moaning through gritted teeth. “yes, oh gosh.. i’m- ah,” when he sped up his circling on your sensitive nub, you almost came immediately, the last push to send you right over the edge.

your face was twisted up in pleasure, legs closing around his waist while a moan was ripped from the back of your throat. chris was in a trance, nearly spilling his cum right into you at the sight and sound of you, his hips stuttering against your own. “fuck, i’m gonna cum too..” he groaned, leaning down to press his forehead to yours, your pants and breaths mingling. “chris!”

you were holding onto him for dear life, thighs aching and pussy fluttering around his cock with every buck of his hips, his name being the only thing both your tongue and mind could remember. it didn’t take another second for him to paint your walls with his cum, emptying himself inside of your velvety walls with a gasp.

his eyes found yours, a giddy smile taking over your lips quickly as you turned flustered. you grabbed him by his face, pulling him closer to kiss him—it wasn’t as needy and desperate as earlier. this time is was much more gentle, patient, intimate. you’d never ever felt like this, your skin prickling and cheeks burning. “i love you so, so much. that was amazing.. but i can’t feel my legs at all.” you chuckled between pants, your laugh like music to his ears while he laughed along with you.

his lips quickly found your neck and collarbones, littering and placing wet kisses down your chest. “you couldn’t love me more than i love you,” he chuckled against your skin, his hands tracing your sides with gentle fingertips. your fingers found his hair when he continued to trace kisses down your body, twirling the dark hair between your fingers. “you did so well, pretty girl. and m’sorry about your legs.”

his words caused your heart to swell, turning you a little shy and meek. “was it really okay?” your voice was small and soft, but you cut yourself off when he looked up at you. “are you serious? you did so well, so, so good. you’re perfect in every way,“ he muttered, his hands roaming your body when he leaned over you once more, his eyes close to visibly darkening. “—let me show you.. please?” his lips attached to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you when he started rocking his hips.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬... sorry if this STINKS chat💔 i lowk hate it but haha.. for the lore..

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❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[pomegranatelifethis]

Porcelain Doll

**English is not my native language**

WARNING: THERE IS RAPE, I MARKED THAT, YOU CAN GO WITHOUT READING. DISTURBING ELEMENTS

(A Neglected!Reader x Batfam Story)

In the beginning, Wayne Manor echoed with her laughter. He was someone who filled every room he entered with his light. He made little jokes, tried to make everyone laugh with his cheerful laughter, and said good morning to everyone one by one every morning.

He enjoyed sneaking sugar into Tim's coffee and watching the surprised expression on his face. He would applaud Dick's cool moves while training, and try to provoke Jason by arguing about the books he was reading. Despite Damian's harsh demeanor, she would try to break through the wall between them and talk about things that would interest him—Titus or cats, for example.

As for Bruce... He would always look for an opportunity to call him "Dad", but every time the words got stuck in his throat. Instead, he would sit quietly next to her, sometimes bringing her coffee with a small smile.

But nothing found a response.

At first he tried not to notice. "Maybe they're too busy," he thought. After all, they were all heroes. They lived in a city like Gotham and had responsibilities. So he decided to show himself more and make more effort.

But over time, everything became more and more obvious.

Every "I'm busy now" turned into an endless silence over time.

Every "we'll talk later" became promises that never happened again.

At one point, Dick stopped hearing his voice. Jason stopped laughing at his jokes. Even though Tim was exhausted before his eyes, he didn't even ask him once, "Are you okay?" he didn't ask. Damian didn't even seem to tolerate his presence.

But what hurt the most was Bruce.

When he tried to hug her, Bruce would just shake his head slightly and walk past her. Even when there was a problem, he always consulted others instead of listening to her thoughts. At some point, he just started to feel like a part of the wall—a shadow that existed but went unnoticed.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he laughed, no matter how much he talked... When he realized that it didn't make a difference to them, the light inside him began to fade.

And then, tragedy struck.

No one knew exactly what happened that night. Maybe he had an argument with someone, maybe he was in the middle of a fight. Maybe they didn't even realize someone had hurt him.

But as he left the house that night, the last spark of hope that still burned within him flickered and went out like a candle flame.

When he came back in the morning, he was still the same person—but also completely different.

After that moment, their conversations decreased. Their smiles disappeared.

When Tim looked at him for hours, he no longer made the same fun comments. When Jason made a joke, he didn't even react. No matter how hard Dick tried, he couldn't make him laugh. Even when Damian got angry, he didn't look up.

And Bruce… Even when he realized something was wrong, it was too late.

His eyes were empty, his soul seemed to be lost in a void. It was as if there were no emotions left inside him.

She was just a porcelain doll now. Cold, silent and numb.

And you know what was the worst?

No one remembered when it broke

Porcelain Doll

November 11 – The Day It Broke

Everything started out ordinary that day.

He woke up early in the morning and helped Alfred, who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. At that moment, he heard Damian and Tim arguing in the living room and noticed Jason tinkering with his motorcycle in the garage. Bruce was in his study, studying the reports, his eyes narrowed with fatigue.

He tried to approach everyone, as always, preserving the endless energy and joy within him.

He interrupted Damian and Tim's argument, maybe if he made a joke the atmosphere would soften. But Damian glared at him.

“There is no place for unnecessary people here.”

These words hit him like a sharp knife, and for a moment he felt like he couldn't breathe. The smile that fell on his face faded, but he tried to recover. He had hoped Tim would at least defend him, but Tim just sighed and continued talking.

He didn't say anything. He felt like there was something extra there, but he still remained silent.

When he met Dick in the kitchen, he put a big smile on his face.

“Dick! Shall we do something today?”

But Dick's answer was just a smile. “Then, okay?”

When?

Later. Always later.

Everyone had a job. Everyone had a priority.

And he was never among those priorities.

But what hurt him the most was Bruce.

When evening came, he went to her study. Maybe he could at least talk to her for a few minutes. When he knocked on the door, Bruce's voice was heard from inside.

“I'm busy.”

He swallowed. But he didn't give up.

“Dad… Can we just talk for a minute? It won't take long, I promise.”

Silence.

Then he heard his chair creak slightly. Bruce's cold voice echoed again:

“I'm really busy right now. Please come back later.”

Later.

Again?

He walked away, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

That night, no one at the mansion noticed him leaving quietly.

No one knew he was walking alone through the dark streets of Gotham.

No one knew that he felt that it made no difference whether he existed or not in this world that no longer meant anything to him.

And no one found out what happened to him. But you will learn, let's find out what happened

That night, when he left the mansion, no one noticed anything. He silently closed the door and lost his steps in the dark streets. When Gotham's night darkness combined with the feeling of loneliness, everything became even deeper. The weather was cold and the wind was harsh, but the emptiness inside was colder.

A void inside him felt like nothing made any sense anymore. No one looked at him, no one understood what he felt. In this darkness, he didn't have to prove anything to anyone.

The streets embraced him like the dark corners of Gotham. He walked slowly, his steps so light that he could not even hear himself. But then, that darkness came closer to him, deepening the emptiness within him.

Suddenly, there was something he noticed with his eyes—figures blending into the shadows. They moved so fast that he couldn't quite understand what was happening. He didn't want to face them even for a moment with his eyes. But it was too late.

Suddenly, he felt a cold touch on his back. He tried to turn back, but someone grabbed his arms hard. It was done so suddenly and harshly that he was thrown off before he even had a chance to do anything. His face hit the ground and his arms and legs curled up. Everything was blurred, he felt a cold, but painful warmth enveloping his body.

For a few minutes he tried to understand what was happening. The fear inside him only prevented him from hearing the voices. Hands continued to wrap around his body. Everything became blurry for a moment.

When the voices stopped, his joy, which once shone like the light within him, was replaced by deep silence. There was nothing left in his mind. The darkness that night was a breaking point.

He stepped aside, emotionally frozen, despite not being aware of his own body and his hands shaking. That night, he broke in a way that no one else saw anymore. And it would never be the same again.

Telling what happened that night would make every word knot in his mouth. It was a reflection of the break, the pain, the lost joy. But there was something, no longer felt—losing oneself, not belonging to anyone or anything. It all ended with the person he once knew.

And that night, among the cold walls on the west side, no one ever understood what happened to him.

Flashback – The Night It Broke

The streets were dark.

Gotham was always dangerous, but he didn't care at the moment. There was such a big void inside him… He couldn't even feel what was dangerous anymore. His feet dragged him unconsciously from one street to another.

He was cold. But this coldness had penetrated not only his body but also his soul.

At one point, he realized someone was calling out to him. At first he didn't care. But then the steps became heavier. His eyes blurred.

When someone grabbed his arm, he instinctively pulled back. But the streets were silent, there was no escape.

When the touches became harder, he realized that moment.

Something inside him was screaming. He was thinking about the voice that echoed in the Batcave a few hours ago. That short answer Bruce gave him, Damian's disdainful look...

They didn't even know he was here.

And they wouldn't know.

He resisted. But he was tired, very tired.

He felt the hardness of the cold wall on his back. His breathing became irregular. Words didn't come out of his mouth. A pair of hands, then another...

**Those who are uncomfortable with the detailed scene should not read it, maybe I will remove it from the scene**

Without wasting any time, he slid your panties down your legs and forced his big dick into your dry, unprepared hole. it hurt. . It hurt so bad. You screamed and beat him, you raised your hands and tried to beat him with pathetic tears in your eyes, but it didn't work. nothing happened. He was so strong, so big, so muscular, and so desperate that he couldn't give up his relentless and unstrategic attacks. When your screams dried up, big tears flowed from your face. When you gave up and surrendered to the intruder, snot was running down your face. and god listened. He made a few more rough, sloppy thrusts, pushing the tip of his leaking dick towards your cervix, and the man was whining on top of you - filling your pussy with an overwhelming amount of sticky cum.

**Scene ended**

At that moment, his mind fell silent.

Everything fell silent.

The Next Morning – Return Home

When he returned, the moonlight illuminated the garden of the mansion.

He was disheveled, but no one noticed. His hair was disheveled, but no one looked. His face was expressionless, but no one questioned it.

Nobody asked anything.

And he didn't say anything either.

He just went into the bathroom. The water should have been hot, but his skin was numb. It was dirty. He was in a mess. No matter how much he rubbed it, no matter how long he stayed under water, it wouldn't go away.

He knew.

But he still didn't come out of the bathroom for hours.

That day, the last remaining humanity within him broke.

And it didn't belong to anyone anymore. Not to the Batfamily, not to Bruce, not to himself.

[sosa2imagines]

My girl.

Warning- Soft dark Bucky and Steve, manipulate, spiking drink, planning and kidnapping maybe?, possesiveness, jealousy, 6.6k words.

You tug at the hem of the black dress Natasha had lent you, feeling a little out of your comfort zone but enjoying the way it hugs your curves. Even Thor, your ever-blunt best friend, had taken a moment to whistle in appreciation when he saw you. “Damn, Sweets, if I wasn't already taken...” he'd teased with a wink, earning a playful slap from Wanda.  

You laughed, shaking your head, “Thank you, but come on lets go, Natasha is waiting for us!!!”

Now, inside the nightclub, you were mesmerized. The music was pulsing through the air, vibrating under your skin, and the flashing lights created an electric energy that makes it impossible not to get caught up in the atmosphere. Wanda and Thor were already pulling you towards the bar, but your gaze lingers, scanning the crowd.  

That’s when you see them.  

Two men, both wearing baseball caps, an odd choice in a place like this. One has short blond hair, his face sharp yet friendly even under the dim lighting. But it’s the other one who catches your attention. Dark brown hair falls slightly into his eyes, piercing blue beneath the brim of his cap. He’s leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable, yet there’s something about him... something dark, something intriguing.   

You quickly look away when Thor hands you a shot, grinning widely. “To a great night!” he declares. You, Wanda, and Thor clink glasses and down the shots, the burn spreading warmth through your veins. Laughter bubbles out of you, as Natasha joins and drags you to the dance floor, and soon you're lost in the music, swaying and spinning with the beat.  

Little do you know, the two guys in the caps were watching you.  

The blond one, Steve, nudges his friend with a knowing smirk. “See something you like?”  

Bucky’s lips curl at the corner, his eyes never leaving you as you move effortlessly to the music. The lights catch on your skin, your smile lighting up your face in a way that sends a spark through him.  

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark. “I do.”  

The music pulses through your body, and you let yourself get lost in it, swaying and twirling under the flashing lights. Laughter spills from Wanda and Natasha as they dance beside you, their energy infectious.

But despite the music and the crowd, your thoughts drift back to those two guys.  

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance back toward where you first saw them, only to find the spot empty.  

Your brows furrow slightly. You could’ve sworn they were there... 

Before you can finish the thought, some movement catches your eye. They're closer now. Much closer.

The dark-haired one with those piercing blue eyes stands near the edge of the dance floor, his gaze locked onto you like he’s been watching your every move. The blond one leans in to say something to him, but Bucky doesn’t react, his focus entirely on you.  

You swallow hard, a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your chest.  

And then it happens, gradually at first. The more you move, the closer they seem to get. Each beat of the music shortens the distance until, before you realize it, there’s a presence behind you.  

A warmth at your back.  

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you turn, and suddenly, he’s there. The dark-haired stranger stands close, almost too close. The sharp angles of his jawline, the way his eyes pierce right through you, leave you momentarily speechless. Up close, he’s even more devastatingly handsome, and your brain screams at you to keep it together.  

He offers you a small, almost sly smile and reaches out, taking your hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle, sending an unexpected thrill down your spine.  

“I'm Bucky.” he says, his voice deep and smooth, laced with something that makes your breath hitch.  

You blink, trying to ground yourself, “Y/n…” you manage, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks as you force yourself to meet his intense gaze.  

The moment lingers, and with a shy smile, you turn back to Wanda and Natasha, hoping to gather your scattered thoughts. They’re both watching with matching grins, their expressions practically screaming “we saw that.” Your cheeks heat further, and you shake your head, laughing nervously.  

It isn’t until you try to raise both hands to gesture at them that you realize something.  

Bucky was still holding your hand.  

Your eyes flick down in surprise, and when you look back up, there’s an unmistakable glint of amusement in his gaze. He gives your hand a light squeeze, as if testing whether you'll pull away.  

You don’t.

Bucky tugs lightly at your hand, a silent invitation to follow him. Just as your feet begin to move, a familiar voice cuts through the music.  

“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?”  

You turn to find Thor standing there, arms crossed and an amused yet protective look on his face. His gaze flickers to Bucky, sizing him up with that big-brother energy you’ve grown used to.  

“Just to the bar.” Bucky says smoothly, but there's an edge to it, like he's not used to being questioned.  

You introduce Bucky and Thor to each other.

Thor’s eyes narrow slightly, looking at Bucky, before turning to you. “Stay where I can see you, yeah?” His voice is light, but you know he’s serious.  

You roll your eyes with a playful smile. “Yes, Dad!”  

Satisfied, Thor gives Bucky one last look before heading back to Wanda and Natasha, who are too busy dancing and whispering to each other to notice much.  

You finally let Bucky lead you through the crowd, feeling the warmth of his grip as he weaves effortlessly through the pulsing bodies. The bar is busy, but he navigates it like he’s been here a hundred times before.  

“This is Steve…” Bucky says, nodding toward the blond guy in the cap you noticed earlier.  

Steve offers a friendly smile, his blue eyes warm. “Nice to meet you.” he says, tipping his drink slightly in greeting.  

“You too…” you reply, offering a small smile.  

Bucky leans in a little closer, his voice low against your ear. “What’ll you have?”  

You wave him off, feeling a little awkward under his gaze. “Oh, I’m good.”  

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “C��mon, something.”  

You glance around nervously, then mumble, “Uh… orange juice?”  

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Your brain practically screams at you, “Who on earth orders orange juice in a nightclub?”  

Steve stifles a laugh behind his drink, and Bucky just smirks, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. “Orange juice, huh?” he muses, signaling the bartender. “Classy.”  

You groan, covering your face for a second, “I panicked, okay?”  

Bucky chuckles, leaning a little closer, “Don’t worry, doll. I like classy.”  

Your heart does an embarrassing little flip at the nickname, and before you can come up with a response, he hands you the drink. The way his fingers brush yours sends a spark of warmth up your arm.  

Before you can sip, Bucky’s hand returns to yours, leading you further away from the crowded bar area. You find yourself in a quieter corner of the club, where some people are lounging, some are smoking, and the music feels a little more distant.  

Your nerves kick in again, but Bucky’s presence is oddly steadying. His gaze never leaves you, like he’s figuring you out piece by piece.  

“So,” he says, leaning against the wall, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”  

You take a tiny sip of your orange juice, trying not to cringe. “Apparently... making excellent drink choices.”  

Bucky laughs, and you realize then how soft his smile can be despite the dark edge lingering beneath it.  

You glance around the dimly lit corner of the club, your fingers tracing the cold glass of your orange juice. The air here feels heavier, laced with smoke and whispers of conversations that don’t quite reach you. Bucky stands close, his eyes never leaving your face as if he’s studying every flicker of emotion.  

“Do you smoke?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and rough, cutting through the haze around you.  

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. “No, not really my thing.”  

He nods, then tilts his head. “Mind if I do?”  

You glance at him, the way he stands with such quiet confidence, and shrug. “I don’t mind.”  

With a smirk, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with practiced ease, taking a slow drag before exhaling the smoke in a way that somehow makes your heart stumble. The glow of the cigarette highlights the sharpness of his features, casting shadows across his jaw.  

You find yourself mesmerized…again.  

And then, in that same soft, dangerous voice, he says it.  

“You’re my girl now,” he murmurs, his eyes cutting through the smoke to meet yours. “If anyone comes near you... I’ll fucking kill them!”  

Your breath catches, and for a split second, your mind flashes to your ex. He never said anything like that to you. Not once. Your brain screams at you to stop thinking about him, to stay in the present, but it’s too late. The comparison lingers.  

You shake it off, letting out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Is that so?” you tease, tilting your head. “Then prove it.”  

Bucky’s lips curve in a way that makes something tighten in your chest. Without another word, he takes your hand, still warm from before and leads you back toward the bar. The music grows louder again, pulsing around you like a heartbeat, and just as you start to feel the weight of his words settle in, Thor intercepts you.  

“Alright, sweets” Thor grins, grabbing your hand before Bucky can react. “Time to dance.”  

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder at Bucky, but Thor’s already twirling you into the crowd. Wanda and Natasha cheer, and soon you're moving with them, laughing and letting the music wash over you.  

But it doesn’t last long.  

Before you know it, a familiar grip wraps around your wrist, not gentle this time. Firm, almost painfully tight. Bucky. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls you away, but the intensity in his hold is enough to make your heart race for a different reason. He’s not asking. He’s taking.  

You barely manage to throw Wanda a glance before you’re dragged through the crowd again, your feet struggling to keep up with his pace. The air between you thickens, and it finally hits you. You’re not just his girl now.  

Bucky Barnes is possessive about his girl.  

Your skin tingles under his touch, and for the first time tonight, a little voice in the back of your mind wonders just how deep that possessiveness runs.  

You don’t notice the way Steve watches from the sidelines, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, as if he knows exactly what’s going on inside Bucky’s head. As if he’s seen it all before.  

Bucky’s grip on your hand loosens as he finally stops, and when you look up at him, expecting to see the same intense expression from moments ago, you’re met with something entirely different.  

A soft smile.  

It’s disarming, almost as if the possessiveness he showed just seconds ago never happened. His blue eyes are calm now, gentle even, and it throws you off balance. You’re not sure how to react. Should you call him out? Ask what that was about? Or just... let it go?  

Your heart is still racing from how easily he dragged you away, but before you can decide what to say, Steve steps closer, and Bucky turns his attention to him. Their conversation is low, their words blending into the pulsing music, and for a moment, you’re left standing there, trying to process everything.  

Meanwhile, back at the dancefloor, Thor is anything but calm.  

“I don’t like it,” he says, eyes narrowing as he watches you with Bucky from across the room. “I don’t trust his intentions.”  

Natasha, ever the observant one, nods in agreement. “Did you see how he pulled her away? That wasn’t... normal.”  

Wanda, though quieter, presses her lips together in concern. “Y/n didn’t seem to mind too much, though.”  

Thor lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the problem. Guys like him? They have a way of making it feel like it’s okay... until it’s not.”  

Natasha’s eyes darken slightly, and she exchanges a knowing glance with Wanda. “We need to step in before this goes any further.”  

Wanda nods. “I have an idea.”  

Before long, Natasha and Wanda are weaving through the crowd toward you. You’re still standing with Bucky and Steve when they reach you, their smiles bright but calculated.  

“We’re just gonna steal her for a sec!” Natasha says smoothly, looping an arm around yours before Bucky can protest.  

Bucky’s jaw twitches slightly, but he nods, letting them take you. “Don’t take too long.”  

You let them pull you away toward the restrooms, barely registering the way Bucky’s gaze lingers on you as you disappear into the crowd.  

Inside, Natasha closes the door behind you, and Wanda immediately turns to you, her eyes full of concern. “Alright, spill. Are you okay?”  

You blink, caught off guard. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”  

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, he dragged you off the dancefloor!”  

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, yeah, that was... intense. But he’s…I don’t know, it’s weird. He’s intense but then... soft?” You groan, pacing a little. “And I’m not even drunk, so I can’t blame it on that, but part of me just... wants to be around him.”  

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You sure it’s not just the mystery?”  

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Maybe? I don’t know. But I’m fine. Really.”  

Natasha exchanges a look with Wanda, not entirely convinced. “Just... be careful, alright?”  

Meanwhile, outside the restroom, Steve watches as Bucky takes another slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the door you disappeared through.  

Steve sighs. “Buck, you gotta calm down.”  

Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales smoke slowly, his eyes still on the door. “She’s mine.”  

Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You barely know her.”  

Bucky finally looks at him, and for a brief moment, there’s something dark in his expression. “I know enough.”  

Steve watches Bucky carefully, noting the way his jaw tenses as he stares at the restroom door. The silence between them stretches until Steve finally breaks it.  

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buck?” he asks, his voice low but firm. “What’s the plan here?”  

Bucky flicks the ashes from his cigarette, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s mine.” he says simply, as if that alone explains everything.  

Steve raises an eyebrow. “And?”  

Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on the restroom door, his expression unreadable. “I’m not gonna rush it. She’ll come to me.”  

Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “And if she doesn’t?”  

A smirk tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “She will.” His voice is full of quiet certainty. “We wait. We watch.”  

Before Steve can respond, the restroom door swings open, and you step out with Wanda and Natasha. You look more composed now, but your eyes instinctively search for Bucky. When you find him leaning against the wall, his gaze unreadable, something inside you twists unexpectedly.  

Before you can take a step in his direction, Thor is suddenly at your side. “C’mon, sweets…” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you straight back to the dance floor. His grip is firm but not overbearing, a silent reminder that he’s keeping you close. Wanda and Natasha follow, shooting Bucky a subtle glance.  

Bucky watches, his expression darkening as Thor keeps you firmly within the group, away from him. His fingers tighten around his cigarette before he flicks it to the ground and grinds it under his boot. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, but he makes no move to come closer. Instead, he leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his attention shifting to Steve.  

“What’s the plan now?” Steve asks, watching Bucky carefully.  

Bucky’s lips curl into a slow, almost dangerous smirk. “Wait and watch.”  

Steve nods knowingly. “You’re playing the long game, huh?”  

Bucky’s eyes follow you as you laugh at something Thor says, but there’s a flicker of something in your expression, something almost hesitant. “She’ll come to me,” Bucky murmurs, as if it’s inevitable. “She’ll start missing me soon enough.”  

And maybe he’s right. Because as you dance with your friends, trying to enjoy yourself, you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. Every time you do, he’s already looking away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist.  

And for some reason, that stings.  

You know you shouldn’t feel this way. Thor and the others are just looking out for you, making sure you’re safe. But there’s something about Bucky’s sudden coldness that unsettles you. You can’t explain it, but a small part of you feels... bad.  

Kindness.  

It’s one of your biggest weaknesses. Your friends adore that about you, but they also know it makes you vulnerable. People can take advantage of it.  

And as much as you try to shake it off, that little voice in your head wonders if Bucky is counting on that very thing.  

You sway half-heartedly to the music, but your mind isn't on the beat or the flashing lights. Your eyes keep drifting to where Bucky and Steve are standing, and every time you see Bucky deliberately looking away, something inside you twists.  

Natasha nudges you gently. “Sweets, stop.”  

You blink, pulling your gaze away. “Stop what?”  

“Being you!” Wanda chimes in with a teasing yet serious look. “You’re too kind. You always feel bad when you shouldn’t.”  

Natasha nods in agreement, crossing her arms. “Kindness is great, but not when it keeps you up at night worrying about people who don’t deserve it.”  

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t just switch it off, Nat.”  

Natasha rolls her eyes but smiles knowingly. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Doesn’t mean we won’t try.”  

They both mean well, and you know they’re right. But it’s easier said than done. Your kindness is part of who you are, for better or worse. And right now, it’s gnawing at you, making it impossible to focus on anything else.  

Meanwhile, across the club, Steve watches you carefully before turning to Bucky. “She’s getting restless,” he says, sipping his drink. “You counting on that?”  

Bucky smirks, tapping his fingers against the table. “Of course, I am.”  

Steve exhales slowly, leaning in slightly. “Why her, Buck? There’s plenty of girls here tonight. Hell, there have been plenty of girls before her. What makes this one different?”  

Bucky's smirk deepens, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “She’s not like them,” he says simply. “She’s got... a softness. But not weak. She’s got fight in her too.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto you from across the room for the briefest moment before he looks away again. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”  

Steve shakes his head with a knowing chuckle. “You’re obsessed.”  

Bucky’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more dangerous. “I don’t do half-measures, Steve.”  

Steve leans back, watching Bucky with careful eyes. “Yeah... I know.”  

Back on the dancefloor, Thor notices the way you keep sneaking glances in Bucky’s direction, the way your shoulders sag with indecision. With a heavy sigh, he leans down, his voice gentle but firm.  

“Alright, doll,” he says, using the nickname Bucky had claimed as his own. “Go.”  

You blink up at him in surprise. “What?”  

Thor gives you a knowing look. “Go back to him. But stay where I can see you.”  

A wave of relief washes over you, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Thor.”  

He ruffles your hair playfully. “Just don’t make me regret it, yeah?”  

With a nod, you turn and make your way back toward Bucky and Steve, your heart pounding with anticipation. You don’t notice the way Bucky’s lips twitch as he watches you approach, like he knew this moment was inevitable.  

Steve watches you approach with a knowing smile, nudging Bucky slightly with his elbow. “Told you…” he mutters, amusement dancing in his voice.  

Bucky doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans against the bar, his expression unreadable as you finally reach him.  

You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even look at you.  

“Hey…” you say softly, but he doesn’t react.  

You clear your throat and try again, a little louder this time. “Bucky?”  

Still nothing.  

Frustration bubbles up inside you, but you push it down, giving it one last shot. “Are you seriously going to ignore me all night?”  

Silence.  

Something sharp twists in your chest, and with a sigh, you take a step back. “Fine,” you say, your voice steady despite the sting of disappointment. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone, just like you want.”  

Before you can turn away, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. The grip is firm but not rough but possessive, in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.  

“I don’t like being ignored.” he says, his voice low and dark, his blue eyes locking onto yours.  

Your breath catches in your throat. “I wasn’t ignoring you…” you murmur, suddenly feeling the heat of his touch.  

His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smirk. “Apologize.”  

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “I…what?”  

“Apologize,” he repeats, his thumb brushing lightly against your wrist.  

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Fine. Sorry, Bucky.”  

Satisfied, he tugs you closer and starts leading you toward the dancefloor. You don’t resist, letting him pull you into the crowd. The music pulses around you, and before you can fully register what’s happening, his hands find your waist, drawing you flush against him.  

There’s no space. None. His body is pressed firmly against yours, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest. The heat between you both is undeniable, and your mind is racing, screaming at you to think straight, but it’s impossible with him this close.  

“Relax…” Bucky murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.  

You try, but it’s impossible. His hands grip your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, slow and deliberate. Your skin tingles under his touch, and every time your body brushes against his, your pulse spikes.  

After a few moments, he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I wanna do something for you.”  

You swallow hard, shaking your head slightly. “Bucky, there’s no need for that.”  

He grins, and the playful banter begins. “I didn’t ask if there was a need.”  

“Seriously, it’s fine.”  

“Let me.”  

“No.”  

“Yes.”  

And then, without warning, he silences you the only way he knows how.  

His lips crash against yours, stealing your breath and every coherent thought in your head. The kiss is firm, confident, and leaves no room for argument. Your hands instinctively find his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.  

When he finally pulls away, his blue eyes flicker with mischief, and he winks at you. “Told you I’d do something for you.”  

You’re left standing there, breathless and stunned, as the music pulses around you, but all you can focus on is him…just him.  

Bucky leads you through the crowd, weaving past dancing bodies and flashing lights until you reach a secluded corner of the club. The music is quieter here, the atmosphere darker, more intimate. You stand close, the space between you charged with something you can't quite name.  

For a while, neither of you say anything. You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you wait for him to speak first. Eventually, he does.  

“I like you.”  

The words are so simple, so unexpected, that they make you laugh. “Really?” you tease, arching an eyebrow. “Just like that?”  

Instead of answering, Bucky takes a step back and, to your horror, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “I like her!”  

Heads turn, eyes land on you both, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically reach for him. “Bucky! Shut up!” You hiss, tugging at his arm.  

He grins, utterly unapologetic, and takes it a step further. “I REALLY LIKE HER!!!!”  

You slap a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in mortification. “Okay! Okay, I believe you! Just be quiet, you goof.”  

Bucky chuckles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Slowly, you lower your hand, and before you can say another word, he kisses you again.  

This time, it's slower, deeper, less about teasing and more about something real. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, your palm resting over his heart. You can feel the steady, strong rhythm beneath your touch, and it does something to you. A soft sigh escapes you, and Bucky’s lips curve into a smile against yours.  

When he finally pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours. “Come with me…” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your waist.  

Your heart skips a beat, but reality crashes in just as quickly. “I can’t…” you whisper, shaking your head. “I came here with my friends. Thor won’t let me just disappear.”  

Bucky’s jaw tightens, and for a split second, there’s something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t take no for an answer, doll.”  

Before you can protest, his lips are on yours again, stealing your breath, your words, your logic. You feel his arm tighten around your waist, holding you close, keeping you in his orbit.  

What you don’t see is the way he locks eyes with Steve over your shoulder. There’s a silent exchange, a plan forming without words. Steve nods subtly, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking.  

You’re too lost in the kiss to notice.  

You try to pull away, your hands pressing lightly against Bucky’s chest, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he tilts his head, a playful yet dangerous glint in his blue eyes. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he says, his voice low and laced with something that makes your stomach twist.  

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? No, of course not!”  

Bucky hums, unconvinced, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist. “Then why won’t you come with me? You think I can’t take care of you?”  

The guilt hits you like a truck, and you immediately shake your head, your voice softer now. “Bucky, that’s not it at all. It’s just… my friends. Thor won’t let me go that easily, and I don’t want to worry them.”  

Bucky stares at you for a beat, then his lips curl into a smile, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and makes a face, his eyes wide, mouth open like he’s about to devour you whole.  

You burst into laughter, swatting at his chest. “Stop that, you’re ridiculous!”  

He grins, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “But you love it,” he teases.  

Your laughter fades into a soft smile, and for a moment, you forget everything else. But what you don’t see is the way Bucky’s eyes flick over your shoulder, locking onto Steve.  

Behind your back, Steve nods, the plan silently set into motion.  

And just like that, you’re already one step closer to exactly where Bucky wants you.  

Just as you’re starting to relax in Bucky’s hold, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.  

“There you are!” Wanda’s voice is laced with amusement and just a hint of suspicion. She strides over, her eyes flickering between you and Bucky with a knowing smirk. “Come on, we’re not letting you disappear just yet.”  

You sigh, reluctantly stepping back, but Bucky doesn’t let you go so easily. His hand stays wrapped around your wrist, and he tilts his head at you with a playful pout. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”  

You blink in confusion. “What?”  

He leans in, voice dripping with faux hurt. “That’s why you’re not coming with me. You think I’m some idiot who can’t handle Thor.”  

Wanda laughs, crossing her arms. “It’s not about you, Barnes. Thor’s just… let’s say, protective about his friends.” She glances at you. “Right, dear?”  

You nod quickly, grateful for Wanda’s backup. “Exactly. I don’t want to cause drama.”  

Bucky smirks, but there’s something sharp beneath it, something calculating. “Drama? Doll, I’m all about drama.”  

You roll your eyes, about to respond when Wanda grabs your hand. “Come on, let’s go.”  

Just as you turn to leave, something shifts in the air. Steve, who had been lingering nearby, subtly moves into position, blocking Thor and Natasha’s view of you both. The timing is perfect.  

Bucky doesn’t let go of your wrist. Instead, he pulls you back suddenly, spinning you right into him. “Not so fast…” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.  

Your heart stutters in your chest, but before you can process what’s happening, Steve casually bumps into Wanda with a distracted, “Sorry, miss.” causing her to stumble and momentarily break her grip on your hand.  

In that split second of distraction, Bucky tugs you further into the crowd, his grip firm but playful, as if daring you to resist.  

“Bucky…” you start, but his grin is all you get in response.  

Steve watches from a distance, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. The plan was working.  

And deep down, despite the warnings ringing in your head, you don’t really want to stop him.  

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you whisper, breathless as he pulls you deeper into the crowd. The flashing lights dance across his face, highlighting the mischief in his blue eyes.  

Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you. Soft at first, teasing, before deepening it with a possessive edge that makes your knees weak. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders to steady yourself, but your mind is screaming at you to get back to Wanda and Thor.  

When he finally pulls away, his lips brush against yours as he murmurs, “Still wanna leave?”  

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to regain control. “I have to go…” you insist, your voice lacking the conviction you wish it had. “Wanda and Thor are looking for me.”  

Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, his fingers tracing over your wrist. “Stay.” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.  

You shake your head, trying to find your footing in this whirlwind. “Bucky, I can’t just…”  

He tilts his head, watching you closely, and then with that signature smirk, he says, “Just for a little while. We’ll stay in the club, I promise.”  

Your resolve wavers, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to think straight. After a moment, you sigh in defeat. “Fine. Only in the club.”  

Bucky’s lips twitch in victory. “Good girl.”  

But what you don’t realize is that Bucky’s promise means nothing, not when he’s already made up his mind. While you’re distracted, his eyes flick over your shoulder to where Steve stands near the bar. A single nod passes between them, silent and calculated.  

You may think you’re staying, but Bucky has other plans.  

Just as you begin to relax in Bucky’s presence, the music pounding in your chest like a second heartbeat, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.  

“There you are,” Thor’s deep voice rumbles from behind you. His expression is firm but not unkind as he reaches for your arm. “It’s time to go home, Sweets.”  

You glance up at Bucky, feeling the tension in the air shift. For a second, you consider arguing, just a little, but something about the way Thor is looking at you makes you nod instead. “Alright, you say softly.  

Bucky’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t stop you. Not yet.  

Just as you turn to follow Thor, Bucky appears at your side, holding out two glasses. “One for the road?” he offers, his voice smooth, his smile disarming. He hands one glass to Thor and one to you.  

Thor eyes Bucky suspiciously before taking a sip. You hesitate for a moment, but under Bucky’s expectant gaze, you take a small sip too.  

Before you know it, Bucky has his hand on your lower back, steering you gently away from the dancefloor. “C’mon, just for a second,” he says, his voice low and persuasive. “One last moment before you run off.”  

You follow him, oblivious to the subtle exchange of glances between him and Steve.  

The club lights flash around you, and you’re too caught up in the conversation to notice Thor’s steps faltering behind you. Steve quietly steps in, keeping Thor distracted just long enough for Bucky to guide you further away.  

It isn’t until you reach the quieter edge of the club, near the exit, that you realize something is off.  

“Bucky,” you say, blinking as you look around. “Where are we going?”  

Bucky smirks, his hand firm around yours. “Told you, doll. I don’t take no for an answer.”  

Panic rises in your chest, and you yank your hand away, taking a step back. “I have to go back to my friends.”  

Bucky doesn’t let you get far. He grabs your wrist again, his grip just tight enough to make your heart race for an entirely different reason. “Apologize,” he says, his voice lower now, laced with something darker. “For trying to leave me.”  

Your pulse hammers in your ears, and suddenly, the warmth in his eyes seems a little more dangerous. “Bucky…” you whisper, trying to pull free, but he refuses to let go.  

Behind you, Steve stands with his arms crossed, his smirk never fading. He knows exactly how this will play out.  

Your heart pounds as you take a step back from Bucky, trying to create some distance, but you don't get far. Your back collides with something solid, someone solid.  

Steve.  

His arms snake around your waist, holding you firmly against him. You freeze as he rests his chin lightly on top of your head, his breath fanning over your hair. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes your stomach twist, and you can feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him.  

Bucky watches the scene unfold with a lazy smile, his eyes dark with amusement. “Relax, doll,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I already told you, you’re my girl now.”  

You shake your head, your voice shaky but firm. “Bucky, you promised. You said we’d stay in the club.”  

Bucky’s grin widens, his fingers reaching out to brush against your cheek. “Yeah, well... there’s been a slight change in the promise.”  

You stiffen, your mind racing. Steve's arms tighten subtly, his hold secure but not forceful. Yet.

It’s clear he’s enjoying this, the way his body presses against yours, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You’re way too tense,” he says with a chuckle. “Loosen up, doll.”  

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thor will come looking for me...”  

Bucky’s expression softens into something almost pitying. “Thor?” He tilts his head. “Sweetheart, he won’t be coming for you.”  

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”  

Steve chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening just slightly as if to keep you in place. “Let’s just say... he’s taking a nap.”  

Your stomach drops. “What did you do?”  

Bucky waves a dismissive hand. “Nothing too bad, doll. He’s fine. Just a little... distracted.” His smirk deepens. “That means it’s just us now.”  

Your pulse races as realization sinks in. They had planned this from the beginning.  

Steve finally releases you, only to grab your hand with a firm grip, and Bucky takes your other hand, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that feels both soothing and possessive. Together, they lead you toward the exit.  

You glance back over your shoulder, searching for a way out, for Wanda, Natasha, anyone, but the crowd of strangers swallows the dancefloor whole, and just like that, you’re outside.  

Under the cool night air, Bucky leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “Told you, doll. No one’s taking you from me. You are my girl now!”  

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[mochacoda]

night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his indifference for dating. As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

���치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful. 

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth. 

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops. 

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store. 

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting. 

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side. 

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say. 

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

Jeonghan never yields. 

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup. 

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs. 

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything. 

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep. 

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment. 

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually. 

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear. 

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way. 

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love. 

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same. 

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence. 

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves. 

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon. 

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply. 

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes. 

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks. 

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far. 

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly. 

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends. 

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know. 

You gnaw on your lip. 

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest. 

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly. 

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh. 

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands. 

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend. 

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.” 

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual. 

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.” 

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating. 

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him. 

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes. 

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you? 

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better? 

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away. 

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his. 

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his. 

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck. 

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]” 

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said. 

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes. 

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times. 

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone. 

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek. 

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes. 

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest. 

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh. 

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back. 

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession. 

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm. 

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you. 

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ──── 

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem. 

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently. 

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you. 

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good. 

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug. 

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting. 

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]” 

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him. 

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it. 

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[sincerelybubbles]

"I love you" warnings: none, fluff, written forever ago and reread and edited to shreds ||||

The first time Spencer says, "I love you," it’s an accident.

It happens in your kitchen again, but this time it's quiet. The smell of coffee lingers in the air, and the soft hum of the refrigerator is the only sound between you. You're leaning against the counter, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes, while he stands a few feet away, watching you with that careful gaze of his, the one that makes you feel like he's analyzing you but not in a clinical way. No, Spencer looks at you like he’s memorizing every tiny detail, tucking it away in some secret place in his mind where he keeps things that matter most.

You’re mid-yawn when he says it, so casual you almost miss it.

"I love you," he murmurs as he passes you a cup of coffee, like it's just something that slips out when he isn’t thinking.

Your fingers nearly fumble around the handle, and your whole body goes still. Your stomach twists in on itself, because you've thought about this moment a thousand times. How it would feel to hear it, how it would sound in his voice. You just didn't expect it like this—so offhanded, so natural, so completely without fanfare.

Spencer doesn't realize what he’s done at first. He takes a sip of his own coffee, eyes flicking up to meet yours, and in an instant, you see it—the delayed reaction, the widening of his eyes, the way his throat bobs as he swallows too hard.

"Oh," he says, like he's just processed his own words, and the air in the room shifts. "I—" He swallows again. "That wasn't—I mean, it was, but—"

You bite your lip, unsure if you should help him out of his flustered state or let him dig his own grave for another second.

"You mean it?" you ask, voice small. You hate how insecure you sound, but it’s there, that creeping uncertainty that whispers: maybe he didn’t mean to say it at all.

Spencer's hands tighten around his mug. "Yes," he says, barely above a whisper. "I mean it. But I didn’t want to say it like that. I wanted it to be special."

Warmth unfurls in your chest, battling the self-doubt that always seems to lurk just beneath the surface. You set your mug down before you drop it and step closer, reaching up to touch his cheek. His skin is warm under your fingers, and you feel him exhale, long and slow, like he’s been holding his breath.

"It is special," you tell him. "Because it's you."

Spencer lets out a soft laugh, a little self-deprecating, shaking his head. "You deserve something more than an absentminded confession over coffee."

"Stop that," you scold gently. "You always act like you have to prove something to me. You don’t. Just being with you is enough. You are enough."

His eyes flicker with something deep—something you almost can’t bear to look at because it’s so raw. He nods, absorbing your words like he’s trying to believe them, and then, after a beat, he tilts his head.

"Do you…?" He trails off, hesitant, the Spencer who still second-guesses when it comes to emotional things.

You take a breath, feeling your pulse in your throat. The truth is, you've known for a while. Maybe since the moment he showed up at your work with lunch, or when he called just to make sure he hadn’t done something to mess things up. Maybe it was the first time he kissed you, or maybe it was even before that, in the little moments where he let himself be fully himself with you.

"I love you," you say, because it’s true, and because he deserves to hear it.

Spencer blinks at you like he can’t quite believe it, and then, before you can say anything else, he kisses you. It's not hurried or desperate. It’s slow and reverent, like he’s savoring the words on your lips. His hands come up to frame your face, gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. "I’ve never had this before," he admits, so quiet you almost don’t hear it. "I don’t always know what I’m doing."

You smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Neither do I. We’ll figure it out together."

He nods, closing his eyes for a moment, just breathing you in. And then he exhales a soft, "Okay."

It’s not a grand declaration, not fireworks or an earth-shattering moment. But it’s real. It’s steady. It’s love, spoken in small moments, in morning coffee, in nervous laughter, in the spaces between words. || you can consider this a continuation of "it's a date" if you squint.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off. 

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won. 

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile. 

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together. 

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet. 

You weren’t even sure how this happened. 

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.  

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you. 

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you. 

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath. 

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on. 

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair. 

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck. 

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper. 

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips. 

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you. 

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped. 

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned. 

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered. 

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe. 

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard. 

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum. 

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you. 

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face. 

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you. 

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.  

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly. 

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back. 

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues. 

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day. 

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.

[onebadassunicorn]

Love Lies

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: angst, talk of poisoning and potential death, smut (18+), some fluff

word count: 5.9k

Permanent taglist: @motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero

Azriel permanent taglist: @kathren1sky-blog

Taglist @sinfully-yoursss @sillyfreakfanparty @phoenix666stuff @ quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @hellohauntedturnstudent @love-over-fears @kk191327 @i-am-infinite @historygeekqueen @yourdarkrose @fr0stfall @dnfhascorruptedme

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

********

Chapter 13

Elain sat rigid in her chair, her usually serene expression twisted into something raw—something close to fear.

Her delicate hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her breath uneven, eyes wide as they darted between you and Azriel.

But neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke just yet.

You simply stared at her, at the woman who had once been kind, once been a friend, once been someone you trusted—and now, was nothing more than a poisonous snake, a traitor who had carved a knife into your back and twisted it until you could barely breathe.

Azriel stood beside you, his golden eyes burning with fury, with disgust, with a level of loathing you had never seen in him before. His shadows curled and snapped violently around his boots, barely restrained.

Elain shifted, swallowed hard, but still, she didn’t speak first.

So you did.

Your voice was ice, sharp enough to cut through the thick silence of the room.

“You were my friend.”

Elain flinched, as if she hadn’t been expecting that.

You took a step forward, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides.

“You sat in my home, in my kitchen, and you spoke to me about the future—about my future with him.” Your voice trembled with barely contained rage, betrayal, agony. “And all the while, you were slipping poison into his tea.”

Elain’s face crumpled, her eyes filling with tears. “I—I didn’t mean for it to go that far,” she choked out, shaking her head. “I just—I just loved him so much. I wanted him to love me back.”

Azriel let out a low, sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it.

Your body shook as you tried to hold yourself together, as you tried to stop yourself from doing what you really wanted to do—rip her apart with your bare hands.

“You loved him?” you hissed, incredulous. “This is how you treat someone you love?”

Elain let out a choked sob, shaking her head frantically. “I never wanted to hurt either of you! I just—I just wanted to be with him.” She turned pleading eyes to Azriel, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His expression remained cold, detached—like he was looking at a stranger.

Azriel’s thoughts were a storm—dark, violent, raging.

He had spent months under her influence, feeling his mind turn to fog, feeling something wrong yet unable to grasp what it was.

He had woken up in a world where he had already destroyed everything he loved, only to learn that it was not his doing at all.

And yet, the pain was his to bear.

The nights you spent alone, crying in the bed that was meant to be shared—the nights you ached for him while he unknowingly drifted further and further away—that was still his fault.

Because he had let it happen.

Because he had been blind.

He had been so careful all his life, always one step ahead, always knowing when someone was deceiving him. And yet, the one time it mattered the most, the one time it was his own happiness on the line, he had failed.

And he had lost you because of it.

Until now.

Until this moment—where he stood before the woman who had stolen his choices, his mind, his love for you—and he felt nothing but hatred.

Elain turned back to you, her shoulders hunched, small, as if she could curl into herself and disappear.

You weren’t done.

“You wanted him to love you,” you whispered, shaking your head. “But love isn’t something you steal, Elain. Love is given freely.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her chest heaving. “I just wanted him to see me.”

“You didn’t want to be invisible?” you asked, tilting your head. “So, you decided to erase me instead?”

Azriel had never felt such disgust in his entire life.

He had faced monsters, murderers, traitors, had seen the worst kinds of evil—and yet, none of them had made his stomach turn quite like Elain Archeron.

Because she had nearly destroyed him.

Not with a blade or shadows or war—but with something far more insidious.

Poison. Manipulation. Lies.

And now, standing before her, watching as she crumbled beneath the weight of her own treachery, all he felt was revulsion.

Because this girl, this delicate, soft-spoken creature who had pretended to be nothing more than sweet and kind, had nearly cost him everything.

Had nearly cost him you.

And he would never forgive her for that.

Azriel’s hand never left your waist, his grip firm, grounding, possessive, unshakable—because he needed you to feel it.

Needed you to know that he was here, that he was yours, that no one—not Elain, not fate, not the Cauldron itself—would ever take him from you again.

“You made him believe he didn’t love me,” you breathed, voice shaking with fury. “You made him think I wasn’t enough.” Your chest heaved, rage burning your lungs, your throat, every part of you. “And for what?”

Elain’s lip trembled. “I—I didn’t mean for it to—”

“But it was not only me you hurt,” you cut her off, your voice trembling with uncontained fury. “You could have killed Azriel.”

Elain’s entire body stilled, her face draining of all color. “What—what do you mean?”

You let out a cold, humorless laugh, your nails biting into your palms. “Did you even bother to look up what you were giving him? Did you think beyond your own selfish desires?”

Azriel exhaled sharply beside you, as if he couldn’t stand another second of being in her presence.

“You were so desperate for him when he was never meant to be yours, and you nearly destroyed him. The tonic you gave him,” you hissed, watching as her expression twisted into fear, “Nettlewisp, in high doses, causes paranoia, hallucinations, and irreversible brain damage. And if he had kept taking it for much longer in large doses, he could have died.”

Elain paled, her lips parting slightly, eyes going wide with horror. “I—I didn’t know -”

"Didn’t know?" Azriel’s voice was like a blade cutting through the air, filled with nothing but pure, unfiltered disgust.

"You knew exactly what you were doing," he spat, his wings tensing, shadows curling angrily around his feet.

"You wanted me to leave my mate, to turn my back on the only person who has ever truly mattered to me. And you poisoned me to do it."

Elain sobbed harder, but Azriel didn’t care.

There was no more pity left inside him.

“I—I thought it would just… make you love me,” she whispered, voice shaking.

Azriel spoke, his voice a low, lethal growl.

“I never loved you.”

Elain stilled, her face crumbling.

And the way he looked at Elain now was something you had never seen before.

It wasn’t just anger.

It wasn’t just disgust, disappointment, or even loathing.

It was hatred.

A deep, seething, unshakable hatred that poured from him in waves, curling in his shadows like a living, breathing force of darkness.

His golden eyes, once warm and filled with devotion whenever they met yours, were now hard, cold, unyielding as they burned into the female who had stolen his choices, his mind, his love for you.

And you—

You didn’t know what to feel as you watched him stare at her like she was nothing.

Because this was the same Azriel who had once spent hours with her in the gardens, helping her adjust to Velaris, answering her quiet questions, listening to her speak of the world she had lost. The same Azriel who had once believed he was helping her heal—who had once believed she was I n need of kindness.

Now, he saw the truth.

Now, he saw her for what she really was.

And the complete absence of warmth, of pity, of even the smallest ounce of care in his face sent a shudder through you.

Because Elain had truly lost him.

Forever.

And some part of you reveled in that.

Some part of you relished the way his voice turned sharp, the way his words sliced into her like cold, merciless steel.

Azriel took a single step forward, his entire body radiating fury, his wings flaring slightly, his shadows curling ravenously at his feet.

Elain flinched, looking at him as if begging for mercy.

But there was none left to give.

“You were an acquaintance to me, nothing more,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth, any kindness, any mercy.

His golden eyes burned like molten fire.

“I was helping you because Feyre asked me to, because you refused to be around Lucien, and I thought I was doing my High Lady a favor.” He said, his expression unforgiving and unyielding. “You were a duty I fulfilled. Nothing more. I would have never fallen in love with you.”

Elain shook her head violently, her hands trembling as she clutched at her skirts. “No—no, that’s not true,” she whispered, desperate, broken. “You—you cared about me. You were falling in love with me.”

“No. I wasn’t.” His voice turned sharp, final. “And I never would have.”

He stared at Elain with that unwavering, icy hatred, there was no restraint.

There was only truth.

And it struck you then, with the full force of realization—

He truly hated her.

He hated her in a way that only someone who had been deeply betrayed could hate.

And you understood it.

Because you felt that same hatred.

You wanted to rip her apart with your bare hands, to make her feel even a fraction of the pain she had inflicted upon you.

You had dreamt of watching her fall to pieces, of watching her realize that all of her manipulation, all of her efforts, all of her scheming—had been for nothing.

You thought you would feel triumphant, knowing that Azriel had no love left for her—that he saw her now with the same revulsion you did.

And yet—

There was something about it that made you ache.

Not for her. Never for her.

But for him.

Because the Azriel who had once helped her adjust to this world, who had once thought he was doing a good thing, who had once trusted her enough to even let her near him—

That Azriel had been betrayed beyond measure.

And it had broken something in him.

His hatred was not hot, not wild or reckless—it was cold, calculating, merciless.

A hatred born not just from anger, but from deep, unshakable contempt.

And seeing it—truly seeing it in him now, so openly displayed for the first time—

It hurt.

Because it meant he was still hurting.

Because it meant Elain had taken something from him, too.

Not just from you.

Not just from the relationship you had spent years building together.

She had taken his choices.

She had taken his trust.

And as you watched him stand there, the rage simmering just beneath the surface, you knew—

This was his reckoning, too.

Azriel's golden eyes bore into hers, and when he spoke next, his voice was clear, unwavering, and final.

"There has only ever been one person I have loved," he murmured, tilting his head toward you. "And there will never be another." His voice turned sharp as steel. "You could have poisoned me for eternity, and I still would have never loved you."

The words hung in the air, curling around you like something sacred, something devastatingly precious.

Your breath hitched, your heart clenching violently, your entire body locking up as if the world had just shifted beneath you.

You felt everything at once.

A rush of vindication, a flood of anger, sorrow, longing, love—all of it, all at the same time, tearing through your chest like a storm too wild to control.

Because this—this was what you had been waiting to hear.

Not just that Elain had stolen his choices. Not just that he had been poisoned and manipulated.

But that his love for you had never wavered.

Not once.

Even when he thought he had left you, even when he had walked away from you in that alley, when he had believed he wanted something else—it had never been true.

It had never been real.

And hearing it—hearing him say it, in front of her, knowing that he was fully himself again, knowing that he had come back to you with love still in his heart—

It made your knees weak.

It made your lungs feel tight, your throat burn, your pulse race.

Because after everything, after all the months of agony, after thinking you had lost him, after believing you were no longer enough for him—

He was still yours.

He had been yours all along.

Azriel’s head snapped toward you, his golden eyes filled with a depth of emotion so overwhelming it nearly stole your breath away. “I have only ever loved you. I will only ever love you. Nothing—not her, not anything—could ever change that.”

He was standing before you now, himself again, the male who had always loved you fiercely, wholly, irrevocably.

The male who would do anything to fix what had been broken.

And you still loved him.

Elain’s lips quivered, tears slipping down her cheeks, but neither of you cared anymore.

You stared down at her, at the pitiful, broken creature before you, and for the first time, you felt nothing.

No pity.

No sadness.

No remorse.

And now, as she sat there, falling apart in the wake of her own ruin, you felt only justice.

“You are a pathetic excuse for a fae,” you murmured, voice low and deadly calm. “And exile is too kind for what you’ve done.” You inhaled sharply. “But I will support my High Lord’s decision, even though you deserve so much worse.”

Elain looked up at you, her face a mess of tears, her expression twisted in guilt and shame.

You let out a slow breath, shaking your head. “I used to feel bad for Lucien,” you admitted, staring at her as if she were a stranger. “I thought it was cruel, the way you pushed him away, the way you acted like he was some burden to bear.” You smiled then, but it was cold, empty. “But now? Now I realize Lucien is the lucky one.”

Elain let out a quiet sob, her entire body hunched in on itself.

“Because you will NEVER be good enough for him,” you sneered. “Because you are selfish, weak, and cruel. You will never deserve him.”

She let out a broken gasp, her eyes filled with pain, with regret, with loss.

But you didn’t care.

“I came here wanting to physically hurt you…slap you, punch you, anything to make you feel the pain and hurt you caused me,” you said, your voice light, almost thoughtful. “But now I realize—you aren’t even worth it.”

Elain’s face crumpled.

You stepped over to her, but speaking loud enough for Azriel to hear your last words.

“This is the last time I will think of you,” you murmured, “but I know you will think of me every single day.” Your voice was a soft whisper of victory. “When I am with Azriel, the love of my life and the mate you could never have. He is mine.”

"And he was never yours," you whispered, your voice like a whispered promise, like a blade gliding across silk.

Azriel’s entire body shuddered, something dark and fierce and possessive curling in his chest, something that sent a violent wave of emotion surging through the bond.

Yours.

You were claiming him.

Gods—you still wanted him.

After everything, after all the pain, all the betrayal, all the nights you had spent crying yourself to sleep, after he had failed you so utterly, after he had let Elain’s poison seep into him and turn him into a version of himself that you had not recognized—

You still wanted him.

You still chose him.

Not just as your mate, but as your love, your partner, your forever.

And gods, he had never wanted anything more than to belong to you.

Because you were right.

He had never been Elain’s.

Not for a single second.

Not even when the poison had clouded his mind, not even when she had stolen his emotions, twisted his thoughts, made him believe he wanted something else.

Even then, even when his mind had been warped beyond recognition, his soul had still belonged to you.

And now, hearing you say it—hearing you say it with such certainty, with such quiet, unshakable conviction—

Something inside him cracked wide open.

It undid him.

Completely.

His breathing turned ragged, his hands clenching at his sides, his shadows curling in slow, reverent waves around his boots, no longer frantic, no longer restless.

Because this was all he had ever wanted.

To be yours.

To be claimed by you, chosen by you, loved by you.

To stand at your side, where he had always belonged.

Elain let out a choked, shattered noise, as if those words had been the final blow, the final nail in the coffin of her ruined, twisted fantasy.

But Azriel didn’t look at her.

Not anymore.

Because there was only one person in this world who mattered to him.

Only one person he would spend the rest of his life making it up to.

Only one person he would worship for as long as he lived.

Elain let out a shaky, broken sob, her body trembling as she folded into herself, her arms wrapping around her chest as if trying to hold together the shattered pieces of her own ruin.

And he—

He felt nothing.

Nothing but satisfaction.

Because she deserved this.

She deserved to sit in the wreckage of her own destruction, to watch the world she had so desperately tried to steal crumble into nothing before her.

Because she had never been his choice.

Not then.

Not now.

Not ever.

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, and when you turned toward the door, ready to leave this wreckage of a confrontation behind—

He pulled you to him.

Right there, in front of her.

And before you could even register the movement, his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t soft or careful.

It was fierce, unyielding, consuming...a declaration, a vow, a promise carved in stone.

A kiss that said you are mine, and I am yours, and nothing will ever change that again.

A kiss that said I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I will never, never lose you again.

A kiss that said this is real.

This is forever.

Elain gasped, her breath hitching at the display in front of her, but Azriel didn’t give a damn.

Because he had spent too long pulled into a fate that was never his to claim.

Spent too long letting others dictate where his heart should belong.

He groaned as he tangled his hands into your hair, his tongue sliding across your lips, silently asking for entry, which you immediately gave him. He stroked his tongue across yours again and again, as if memorizing the taste of your lips that he had gone without for months. He drank from you like a man starved and when he finally broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his forehead pressed against yours, his hands firm on your waist as if he would never let go again—

He turned to Elain as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and spoke the words that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"Nothing and no one will EVER pull me away from her again."

His voice was low, with lethal undertones challenging anyone that would dare try to take him away again, each syllable carved into the air like an unbreakable vow.

"I am forever hers, and I will destroy anyone who tries to separate us again."

And when he looked back at you—the love, the devotion, the certainty in his golden eyes nearly stole your breath away.

Because he meant it.

Every word.

Every touch.

Every piece of his soul, his heart, his love—

It was all yours.

And then, in a voice so low and filled with love, with certainty, with the quiet promise of a future that was now truly yours again, he murmured,

"Come, my love. Let’s go home."

Home.

The word hit something deep inside you, something raw and aching and fragile from all the months of pain, of loneliness, of grief.

But you let out a slow breath, your body relaxing into his touch, into the warmth and safety of the only male who had ever made you feel truly seen, truly cherished, truly loved.

Azriel didn’t glance back.

You didn’t look back.

You didn’t need to.

So you let him lead you out of the apartment, his arm firmly around your waist, his body a steady, unshakable force beside you.

And as the door shut behind you, sealing Elain in her own self-inflicted misery, you realized—

You were no longer drowning.

You were finally…free.

*****

The apartment door clicked shut behind you, sealing Elain away in her own self-inflicted ruin, leaving behind the wreckage of her destruction, her desperation, her betrayal.

Azriel’s arm remained firm around your waist, his body warm and solid against yours, his shadows curling softly around the two of you, not frantic like before, but calm, reverent.

He was watching you—really watching you, his golden eyes filled with something raw, something aching, something so unbearably tender that it nearly stole your breath away.

With a sharp inhale, you grabbed his face in your hands, pulling him down, your fingers threading into his dark hair, gripping him like he was the only thing tethering you to this world.

You kissed him.

Fiercely.

Desperately.

With every ounce of longing, of grief, of love that had been buried beneath months of pain.

Azriel let out a low, guttural groan, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, as if he needed you just as badly, as if he was terrified of letting go.

His lips moved against yours, urgent, devouring, worshipping, and you felt it in your soul, in the bond that had been stretched thin but never severed.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours, his body pressing into you, a silent plea, a silent vow, a silent apology.

And gods—you could have stayed like this forever.

Because this—this was yours.

This was real.

Not the twisted illusion Elain had tried to create, not the falsehoods laced in poison, but this—Azriel, his hands on you, his lips on yours, his love still burning for you despite everything.

When you finally broke apart, both of you panting, chests heaving, you rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering open to meet his molten gaze.

His expression was wrecked, his lips red and swollen from your kiss, his breathing still ragged, his hands still holding onto you as if letting go wasn’t an option.

“Gods, I have missed you, baby. I love you so much,” he whispered, his eyes gazing at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

And then, softly, you whispered,

"I love you, Az. Take me home."

A sound escaped him, something close to a shuddering breath, a quiet prayer, before he nodded, pressing one more lingering kiss to your lips, softer this time, filled with something quieter, something reverent.

Then—he pulled you into his arms and flew to the cabin.

*****

The cabin loomed in the distance, its silhouette cutting through the dense, moonlit forest. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the faintest hint of rain, but all you could focus on was the warmth of Azriel’s body, his grip firm yet trembling as he landed gently with you in his arms. Months apart had stretched between you like a chasm, but now, as he led you up the creaking steps to the front door, the tension between you was electric—unspoken, undeniable.

He paused, his broad shoulders tense beneath the black fabric of his shirt, and turned to face you. His eyes, those piercing, stormy hazel eyes that had haunted your dreams, searched yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

You could see it there—the regret, the longing, the desperate need to fix what had been broken.

His voice, low and rough, broke the silence. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, the words slipping out like a confession. “More than I can say.”

Your heart clenched at the rawness in his tone, and you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble that dusted his jaw. His skin was warm, familiar, and it sent a shiver through you.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Every single second, Azriel.”

His hand covered yours, pressing it harder against his face as if he feared you’d pull away. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “For everything. For not seeing what was happening. For making you feel I didn’t love you anymore. For making you feel like you were nothing. For not fighting harder as she was trying to pull me away.”

His other hand came up to grip your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from him, could smell the faint, night-chilled mist and cedar scent that was so uniquely his.

It made your head swim.

“We are both victims of Elain’s lies and manipulation. But we’re here now and we’re still standing,” you said softly, your other hand resting on his chest. His heart thudded beneath your palm, steady and strong. “That’s all that matters.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours. For a moment, you just stood there, breathing each other in, the world around you fading away. Then, with a sudden, almost desperate urgency, his lips crashed into yours.

He didn’t give you time to think, to second-guess, to wonder if you were dreaming.

Because this—you and him, tangled in each other, wrapped up in love and fire and desperate need—

This was real.

And he was going to make sure you knew it.

It wasn’t gentle—it was hungry, demanding, as if he was trying to make up for all the time you’d lost in one kiss. His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair. The feel of him, the taste of him, was overwhelming, and you felt yourself melting into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

His tongue slid against yours, teasing, claiming, and you arched into him, your hands sliding down to grip the back of his shirt. He was everywhere—his scent, his warmth, his touch—and it was too much and not enough all at once. When he finally pulled back, both of you were panting, your foreheads resting together as you tried to catch your breath.

“I need you,” he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. “I need to feel you, to know you’re really here. That you’re still mine.”

The intensity in his eyes made your knees weak, and you nodded, your hands sliding down to grip his. “I have always been yours, Azriel” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

He growled as he swept you up into his arms, carrying you through the front door and into the cabin.

The second the cabin door shut behind you, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, unyielding, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him as if he could somehow fuse you into his very being. His mouth stayed on yours as his body pressed you backward, his hard cock grinding against you.

"Do you feel what you still do to me, baby? he growled against your lips.

You whimpered in response as his lips continued to claims yours.

The fire was already lit, casting a warm, golden glow over the room, and he set you down gently on the rug in front of the hearth. His eyes never left yours as he knelt before you, his hands sliding up your thighs to the hem of your dress.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “Let me show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

You nodded, your breath hitching as he slowly peeled the fabric away, revealing your bare skin to the warm glow of the fire. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, and you could see the hunger in his gaze, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as they skimmed over your body.

“Gods, you still take my breath away,” he breathed, his voice reverent. His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your ribs, and you shivered, your eyes fluttering shut. His touch was electric, sending ripples of pleasure through you with every caress.

When his lips found yours again, it was softer this time—slow, lingering kisses that made your heart ache with how much you’d missed him.

"I almost lost you." His voice broke, his hazel eyes gazing into yours as his hands slid down your sides, tracing every inch of you like he was relearning, reclaiming, reminding you that you had always been his. "Never again, my love. Never again."

You arched into him, your hands sliding over his shoulders to grip the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“Azriel,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them, his breath hot against your inner thigh.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his voice rough with need as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin there. “Being between your thighs, tasting what is mine, hearing you moan my name as you fall apart for me.”

You gasped as his lips brushed against your core, your hands tangling in his hair as he teased you with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue. His name spilled from your lips, a desperate, broken sound that only seemed to spur him on. He devoured you like a man starved, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still as he brought you to the edge and then pulled you back, again and again, until you were trembling beneath him.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I need you.”

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you. “Not yet, baby” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not done with you.”

You moaned, your back arching as his hands slid up your body, his lips following the path of his fingers. He was everywhere—his touch, his kisses, his words—and you felt like you were drowning in him. Your hands slid down to grip his shoulders, pulling him up to meet you in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“I need you inside me,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Azriel.”

He groaned, his hands sliding down to grip your hips as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough.

“I need you inside me,” you repeated, your voice breaking as you arched into him. “Make me yours again.”

With a low growl, he thrust into you, filling you completely in one swift, powerful stroke. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, his pace slow and deliberate, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. He was everywhere—his body, his scent, his touch—and you felt like you were falling apart in his arms.

"I could stay buried inside you for a week," he groaned against your throat, his hands gripping your hips, his breath uneven, his body moving against yours with slow, deliberate control. "So you never forget. So you always know who you belong to."

And gods, you did.

Because every touch, every whispered “I love you”, every press of his lips against your skin was a vow.

A vow that nothing, no one, would ever come between you again.

Hours passed, the world outside fading, lost in the rhythm of your bodies, lost in the quiet moans and breathless gasps that filled the cabin.

Until finally, you both collapsed into each other, sweat-drenched, breathless, bodies tangled together as if untangling would mean losing each other again.

Azriel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your bare shoulder, his body still pressed against yours as his shadows lazily curled over your skin.

"I told Rhys we’d be here as long as we wanted," he murmured against your hair, his voice laced with exhaustion, with absolute contentment.

You blinked, still floating in the haze of pleasure, of love, of belonging.

"Your duties—"

"Can wait."

His grip tightened, his lips pressing to your temple.

"You are my number one priority now. Forever. And nothing will change that."

Tears pricked at your eyes, your heart swelling so fiercely you thought it might burst.

Because for so long, you had felt second.

Forgotten.

Neglected.

But now—now, he was here.

Completely.

Entirely.

"Rhys understands," he murmured, his fingers brushing soothing circles along your back. "He told me to take as much time as we need."

You exhaled, something deep inside you settling, healing, finally at peace.

"I love you," you whispered into the quiet, into the safety of his embrace.

He tilted your chin up, his golden eyes burning with something fierce, something unshakable.

"And I love you."

You smiled, the first true, unburdened smile you had felt in months.

"I’m glad to be here."

Azriel’s expression softened, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a lingering, soul-stealing kiss to your lips.

"You are home, my love."

And as the first rays of morning light spilled through the windows, illuminating your tangled bodies, your breath still mingling as you held each other—

You knew.

This was exactly where you were meant to be.

But before you could say anything else, before you could even fully process how at peace you felt in his arms,

Azriel rolled you beneath him again, a wicked gleam in his golden eyes.

"What are you doing?" you breathed, gasping slightly as he trailed his lips down your throat.

He smirked against your skin, his voice dark with promise.

"Loving you the way you deserve. Again."

And gods help you, you let him.

Because this was home.

He was your home.

And you would never leave again.

Chapter 14

[dulcescorderitas]

the bar’s packed, bodies pressed together, heat rolling off them like a furnace, beer sloshing in plastic cups, cheers and groans bouncing off the walls. the game’s on every screen, a tidal wave of green and red jerseys, but you don’t give a shit about football. neither does sam, not really. he’s here for dean, who's already three whiskey shots deep, yelling at the tv like his life depends on it.

you’re here for sam.

he's leaning against the wall, beer in hand, his eyes flicking from the screen to you, more interested in the way your lips wrap around the rim of your drink than whatever the hell’s happening on the field. there’s something simmering in his stare, something slow-burning and wicked, and when the eagles score, the whole bar erupts, but all you hear is his voice low in your ear.

“if the eagles win,” he murmurs, his lips just brushing your skin, “i’m fucking you so hard your legs don’t work tomorrow.”

your breath hitches, the weight of his promise making your fingers tighten around your glass. but you don’t back down, tilting your head to whisper back, “if the chiefs win, you’re eating me out until i forget my own name.”

his hand flexes at his side. tension coils tight between you, and it’s unbearable, the game, the people, the noise—it all fades because suddenly it’s just him and you, and the need pooling low in your belly.

you don’t wait for the final score.

the bathroom is dimly lit, the walls vibrating with the energy outside. you barely get the door locked before sam’s on you, his hands greedy, rough, palms dragging up your thighs, over your hips, pushing you against the cool tile. his breath is hot, his mouth demanding, swallowing your gasp as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, setting you on the sink.

“fuck, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he growls, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingertips branding heat into your skin.

you do. because you’ve wanted it just as bad.

your fingers tangle in his hair, dragging him down, mouths clashing, messy and desperate. his beard scrapes against your jaw as he kisses you hard, like he’s trying to consume you, like he can’t get close enough. and when his hands move lower, when he tugs at your jeans, you help him, kicking them off, the cool air a sharp contrast to the heat between your legs.

his fingers slip beneath your underwear, dragging through your slick, teasing, before he groans, “fuck, you’re already so wet for me.”

“sam,” you whimper, hips rolling into his touch.

he doesn’t make you wait. not tonight.

he frees himself with one hand, stroking once before lining up, his eyes locked on yours as he thrusts in, slow, deep, stretching you inch by inch until he’s seated fully, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

“jesus,” he breathes, forehead dropping against yours.

his hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he starts to move, each thrust deliberate, driving pleasure through you like a pulse. the bar noise is distant now, muffled, drowned out by your soft cries, the wet slap of skin on skin, the sharp hiss of his breath.

he fucks you like he promised—like he’s trying to ruin you, each roll of his hips hitting that spot that has you clawing at his back, desperate for more. and when you tighten around him, close, so fucking close, he growls against your throat, “come for me, baby. come all over my cock.”

you do, gasping his name, shattering around him, and he follows with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you.

outside, the bar erupts into cheers.

sam’s still breathing heavy, forehead resting against yours as he huffs a laugh. “guess we missed who won.”

you smirk, fingers tracing his jaw. “we both won.”

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @deanssun @ambiguous-avery

[thebibliosphere]

That’s unfortunate. They’ve still been very helpful to me recently but it was more to do with fighting Ingram than book content.

Out of interest, was the content note part of the cover or an internal part of the book?

Amazon censors tend not to get flagged on covers so much unless a human looks at it, but they will crack down hard if certain key words get flagged by the computer. The same is true for most of the retailers draft2digital use, who will also sometimes require different cover dimensions/quality requirements. My books all have different covers made for different upload sites. Amazon and Amazon print all have different dimensions from Ingram ebook/print and D2D ebook and print. (Don’t even get me started on the problems I had with hardbacks) It’s a pain in the ass.

I get around the censor issue with content tags by having a link to my website which I leave inactive until after the book is accepted. After that I make the website link live so readers can click on it. It’s not as ideal as having them directly in the book or on the cover, but it’s a way around computers flagging our stuff for certain things and that’s been true since at least 2020.

Inhuman genitals or anything to do with monsters tend to trip the censor flags a lot. I always get a good laugh when Tumblr complains about how so much shifter romance is devoid of knotting or is ‘mild’ compared to Ao3. Technically it counts as bestiality which isn’t allowed by most retailer platforms ToS — unless you’re trad-pub and the publisher goes to bat for you like they did for Ali Hazelwood. (Genuinely so fucking funny watching the broader Romance community who didn’t come from fandom be introduced to the concept of knotting through Bride and subsequently losing their minds, lmao)

In that regard, yeah, donating to libraries would be a helluva lot easier than all this faff.

I suspect censorship is also going to tighten up a lot, which sucks because it’s already pretty tight. Ironically, Amazon rejected the milder heat version of my book (spicy one got through fine) because there is a known homophobe on staff at the weekends and he’s notorious for knocking back anything flagged as LGBTQ+ content regardless of actual explicitness. So if anyone has ever had anything queer knocked back by Amazon and you just so happened to submit it over a weekend, it’s worth trying again toward the start of the work week.

The hoops we have to jump through to sell books I stg.

hey, could a small self published author possibly get its book in your library? it's not quite done yet but it'll be out on my website within the next year or so and it'd really make me happy to send you guys a copy :] thanks!!

hi! good question. we do have a lot of indie, small press, and even self pub authors in our collection, however the process is a little complicated due to our status as a digital library. In order for us to be able to purchase a copy of your book one day, it will need to be available on OverDrive, as that is currently our only platform for digital books.

Because we can’t accept physical copies, PDFs, or other digital files at this time, in order for you to donate a copy of your title, we can accept a monetary donation for the cost of the number of copies you’d like to donate - If it’s available on OverDrive

If it’s not, unfortunately we wouldn’t be able to add it to the collection.

Authors: if you are interested in donating copies of your book(s) reach out to librarian@queerliberationlibrary.org

Readers: if you want to suggest a book to add to the collection, please use the ‘notify me’ tags on libby or the acquisition request form on our website <3

[megalony]

Change Of Plans

Here is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, based on an idea I had for a different character a while back.

I hope you will all like it, feedback is always motivating.

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Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) goes into labour sooner than expected, they try and make a late night trip down to the hospital. But things happen fast while traffic delays them.

Enjoy.

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When a pair of hands suddenly latched around (Y/n)'s hips, her hands slammed down against the kitchen counter and a gasp tore past her lips. She could feel her heartbeat thudding throughout her skin like a drum sending shockwaves through her veins.

Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh when she heard a familiar laugh rumble from the chest behind her.

(Y/n) stayed on her tiptoes, leaning against the counter to try and catch her breath back while she felt Eddie's arms slither around her waist and his chin dug down into her shoulder. She leaned her cheek against the top of Eddie's head with a huff, feeling his hair tickle her skin and his teeth nipping at her neck.

"Thank you for that." She murmured while she moved one hand down to drag her fingertips along Eddie's exposed arm and down to his wrist.

She hadn't heard Eddie come home, but then again, Chris had a movie blasting out in his bedroom and (Y/n) had the radio on in the kitchen. It wouldn't have been hard for Eddie to get inside without making enough noise to attract attention.

She could still feel his chest rumbling with quiet laughter and he began to pepper kisses against the side of her throat, as if making up for the jumpscare he had just given her.

"You're welcome. You okay?" Eddie began to tap his fingers against her stomach like he was typing a secret message against her skin.

If (Y/n) was prone to scaring easily then Eddie wouldn't have given her a little shock, but it wasn't often that she didn't hear or sense him when he came home. So he thought he would take the opportunity to surprise her.

"Apart from a headache. How was work?" When (Y/n) turned her head to the left, she smiled against his lips when he kissed her. His lips were cold, almost like touching blocks of ice but they soon warmed up the more kisses he stole from her.

They parted just enough so that (Y/n) could catch her breath and she could feel his cold lips hovering so close that she was practically breathing into his mouth. His nose nudged against hers and he pecked her lips again before he tilted his head to lean their foreheads together. And (Y/n) suddenly smiled when she realised what he was doing. He was checking to see if she was burning up or not.

"Just a headache, nothing else?" They both knew he wouldn't answer her other question until he knew if she was okay or not.

"Other than back ache, no, I'm okay." (Y/n) squeezed his wrist and leaned into him a little more, trying to resist the urge to let all of her weight drop back onto him.

"Good. What about them?" His hands squeezed her waist, as if (Y/n) didn't know what he was referring to.

"Wide awake." (Y/n) muttered back while she closed her eyes to try and stop her head from spinning. The baby had been kicking almost non-stop today and although it was good to feel the baby moving and know that they were okay and lively, it did get uncomfortable after a while.

When Eddie whispered "Probably waiting for me to come home," into her neck, (Y/n) couldn't stop a smirk from spreading across her lips despite her discomfort.

He was probably right.

(Y/n) was glad that Eddie was home now. Her headache was bad enough that she actually wanted to go to bed and try to sleep it off, and that wasn't like her. Maybe some sleep would make her feel better, and (Y/n) always slept better when Eddie was home.

So much for sleep, (Y/n) thought bitterly.

A tear slithered down her cheek despite her best efforts to keep them at bay and she tossed her head back with her eyes tightly closed. Her lips rolled together into a thin line and her right hand pressed into her lower back that had been throbbing and aching for a long while now.

All she wanted to do was sleep. (Y/n) wanted to lie down and have her brain shut down and get some rest. She needed sleep, but some part of her brain was fighting it. Something was keeping her awake and the circulating aches and pains were making it even harder.

She couldn't even lie down and relax or watch tv, she was that uncomfortable.

Her fingers carded through her hair as she walked slowly down the hall and headed back into the kitchen. Sleep didn't seem to be her friend and (Y/n) couldn't lie down and wait for it to happen. She had no attention span for anymore tv and it wouldn't be fair to turn the tv on when Eddie was asleep.

He had been at work on a double shift through last night until this evening, (Y/n) wasn't going to wake him up when he needed to rest. And since she had a migraine that was too hard to concentrate on reading, she had resorted to trying to tidy up quietly.

Moving a few things around the house, putting some clothes and books away. But now it was time for some painkillers and to sit down and at least rest before she found something else to occupy her night with.

Everything ached as she trudged into the kitchen and started making herself a drink and found some painkillers in the cupboard.

Her hip slouched against the counter and she closed her eyes again while she cradled the glass of cold water in her hands and downed the pills with a grimace.

Her head was spinning. It felt like someone was stabbing a kitchen knife into her lower back. Maybe it was time to go and lie down again, even if she couldn't sleep, some rest might make her feel the tiniest bit better.

Just as she tried to step out of the kitchen, shockwaves coursed beneath her skin and her body froze in place when a sudden trickle of water between her legs made her look down.

Oh no.

A choked cry left her lips that started to wobble as she stared down at her feet and one hand moved to cradle her stomach.

This wasn't right. This was too early. She was only thirty-four weeks. This was over a month early and it wouldn't be safe for the baby to be born now. She couldn't be in labour now, the aches and pains and discomfort couldn't have been leading up to this. Not yet.

Tears trickled down her face as her breaths came out short and shallow and her fingers started to dig into her stomach like she was trying to grip the baby and make sure they stayed exactly where they were.

She couldn't find it in herself to move. All (Y/n) could do was stare daggers into her bump that she cradled with both hands.

She had to wake Eddie. He would know what to do.

Her feet felt like blocks of ice with how numb they were when (Y/n) finally found the will and the power to move. She couldn't get her knees to stop shaking and it caused her to shuffle down the hall rather than walk, but at least she was moving. It took a while to get towards the bedroom and when she was there, she flicked on the main light and shut the door behind her. The last thing she wanted was for Chris to wake up in a panic.

One hand stayed on her stomach while her other hand reached out and leant on the end of the bed so she could stoop over. Her knees pressed into the mattress to stop herself from slumping onto the bed or falling to her knees.

When she realised turning the light on hadn't woken Eddie- he had gotten used to sleeping through any conditions during his time in the army- (Y/n) moved her hand and grabbed his foot to give it a shake.

The jostle made Eddie's entire leg jerk and his knee shot up near his stomach as he grunted and jerked awake.

His tired eyes blinked furiously and his head lifted up from the pillow in an instant as he glanced around the bedroom. What had nudged his foot? Why was the light on? Why was he awake?

The sight of Eddie's ruffled hair askew and stuck up in all directions would have made (Y/n) smile in any other circumstance. She watched him drag a hand up and down his face before he groaned and pushed up so he was sitting up in bed.

"Baby what're you doing, what time is it?"

It took Eddie a second longer than it should have to realise that his wife was crying. The moment he saw the tears, adrenaline shot through his system and he suddenly felt wide awake rather than half asleep.

"What's the matter?" The concern dripping from his otherwise deep voice almost made (Y/n)'s knees buckle and her words suddenly clogged up in her throat.

She couldn't find the right words or the ability to speak. She didn't want to see Eddie's expression drop when she told him what had just happened in the kitchen. All (Y/n) could do was watch in torment as Eddie flung the cover to one side and crawled to the end of the bed like a predator approaching its prey.

Once he was in front of her, he knelt up on the bed and his hands moved to cup her face. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones, wiping away the tears as he leaned close and tried to search her eyes for any hint of what was wrong.

"You're scaring me," His voice was oddly quiet but the look in his eyes was almost maddening.

Eddie felt like he couldn't breathe when (Y/n)'s watering eyes looked down and he followed her line of sight. He realised how one hand was tightly cradling her stomach. He saw the dark patch on her shorts and the water glistening on her legs and he found that he was starting to shake his head without realising it.

"Baby…"

"My water broke." (Y/n) hated how pitiful her voice sounded and the way that Eddie's jaw hung loose and his blushing lips looked so fragile as he tried to wake up and take in what she was saying.

When a broken sob left her lips, Eddie suddenly seemed to break out of his trance. His hand curved around to cup the back of her neck and he reeled her in close, pressing his lips to the side of her head while his other hand moved down to grip her waist. He let her lean on him rather than the bed with her free hand scrunching up in his shirt that was soaking up her tears.

"Okay, okay shh. I- fuck, I'll try find someone to watch Chris and we'll go to the hospital, hm? It's alright, just a bit early. We might be able to stop it yet." His words hushed against her temple as he began gliding his hand over her lower back in wide circles to see if it would help.

He would ring and try to find someone to look after Chris. He would take her down to the hospital and they might just be able to prevent labour from happening if they were lucky enough. But even if they couldn't, this wasn't too early or dangerous, as long as they got to a hospital their baby would hopefully be just fine.

(Y/n) tried to nod into Eddie's chest but just as he went to shuffle back to get off the bed, he paused, stricken to the spot when (Y/n) cried out into his chest. Her face pressed down against his sternum and her hand clutched at his shirt so tightly she almost ripped it off his body.

Her broken scream vibrated straight through Eddie's chest and his hands clutched at her neck, trying to peel her from his chest so he could see what was wrong.

She didn't have to say anything. When her hands moved down to grip her stomach and her head bowed back down again, Eddie understood her wordless cries. A quiet 'no, oh no,' left (Y/n)'s lips and she cried again as she slumped down onto the bed so her knees wouldn't give out on her.

She was having a contraction.

"Eddie…" A broken sound followed her words when Eddie clambered off the bed. Shockwaves rattled through her and her hand desperately reached out for Eddie as more tears poured down her face when he stumbled to his feet and fumbled around for his phone.

"Just breathe for me, I'm gonna see if someone can watch Chris, okay?"

(Y/n) found enough willpower to nod while she sank back on the bed a bit more and tried to let herself relax and stop tensing so much. Her trembling hands moved to press down into the mattress and she reclined back a little so her weight was resting on her arms to see if it would take the sting from her lower back.

It was almost amusing to see Eddie flutter about the room, trying to find a change of clothes when his mind was clearly somewhere else and he kept stumbling in his delirious state.

She watched Eddie get dressed and she saw the concern bubbling up in his eyes as he looked over at her and gave her a silent nod before he grabbed his phone and wandered out into the hall, flicking the lights on as he went. He was going to try and ring round and see if anyone could help. The last thing they wanted was to take Chris to the hospital with them and it was midnight, he was fast asleep. They didn't want to disturb him or panic him this late at night. But they might not have a choice.

(Y/n) could distantly hear Eddie clattering about the house and his gruff voice in the distance, but she couldn't work out what he was saying or who he was talking to.

Every now and then she winced and coiled in on herself and more tears splashed down her face when the pains started to get worse. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, it felt like hours, but it could have been minutes. It was a little while though because Eddie kept popping his head round the door to check on her while he tried to call anyone and see if someone would pick up.

It took all of (Y/n)'s willpower to stop herself from screaming when a particular pain made her feet fidget against the floor and had her squirming from side to side on the bed.

Why did this have to happen now?

Her fingers scrunched into the covers until her nails were almost tearing through the material and she could feel blood welling up in her mouth from her teeth cutting through the inside of her lip.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) pushed herself forward and tried to move towards the wardrobe. If they were going to the hospital then they needed the hospital bag. It was a relief that (Y/n) had decided to pack it a few weeks ago on the off chance that something like this happened. She had hoped to pack the bag and not need it, to just have it sitting in the wardrobe until the right time came around. Clearly her body was having other ideas.

Her eyes snapped closed and a quiet sob left her lips when it felt like a coil was tightening inside her abdomen. Her head bowed down until her chin was almost touching her chest and her left hand gripped the wardrobe door while she lowered down to her knees before she fell.

When she found the bag, she grabbed it and tossed it onto the floor beside her before her hand moved to cradle her stomach and she tried her best to breathe through the uncertain pains.

"Babe-" Eddie cut himself off and glanced worriedly around the room until his eyes set on (Y/n), knelt down in front of the wardrobe.

The sight made his heart pang in his chest and a shudder crept through him as he tossed his phone onto the bed and moved to crouch down behind her. His hands held onto her waist and he peered over her shoulder and pecked her cheek.

He could see the hospital bag, he knew what she had been doing but after a minute when she didn't say anything, he tilted his head to hover his lips over the shell of her ear.

"You want up?" He mumbled against her ear and when she nodded, he hooked his arms around her waist a bit better and slowly pushed up. Pulling (Y/n) carefully along with him until she was back on her feet and both hands were gripping his forearms for stability.

Once they were up, Eddie tilted his head back down and merged his lips with (Y/n)'s exposed shoulder where her shirt was sliding down her arm. He tried to feather his hands up and down her stomach to see if it would do anything to help with the pain and make her feel better. But he could still feel her trembling and sniffling every few seconds.

"Who- who did you call?"

The lack of reply made (Y/n) shake her head and a quiet whimper left her lips. He couldn't get hold of anyone. Not surprising. Who would want to answer the phone at midnight? Their friends and family would either be tucked up in bed, on a night out or be far too busy to bother answering the phone.

"Eddie, i-it hurts…" (Y/n) tipped her head back into Eddie's shoulder as more tears drenched her face and a round of shaking overcame her.

If they couldn't find someone to have Chris then he was going to have to come with them. They would have to panic him, they didn't have any other choice. If they called an ambulance Chris would still have to travel down to the hospital with him if they couldn't get hold of anyone. Either way, this situation was complicated.

When Eddie felt the way (Y/n) tensed up and started to bend her knees like she wanted to crouch down, a deep growl left his lips and vibrated through from his chest through to her back.

"Fuck it, let's just go to the hospital. Chris will have to come with us until I can get hold of someone." He would keep trying. He would keep calling round everyone he could think of until someone answered and agreed to help out. Until then, the three of them would just have to head to the hospital together.

Eddie carefully turned to the right and slowly eased (Y/n) down until she was sitting on the end of the bed again and he was hovering in front of her.

"I'll go get him in the car."

(Y/n) nodded, relishing in the kiss that Eddie pressed to her temple before he hurried out the room.

He didn't want to wake Chris. It always took Chris a while to get to sleep and if he was woken up during the night it would take him even longer to settle once again. But what other choice did Eddie have?

He tried to be as quiet as possible when he headed into Chris's room and took a moment to look around. Once he spotted the dark blue noise-cancelling headphones, Eddie hooked them on his shoulder along with the fluffy blanket from the end of Chris's bed.

Eddie took a deep breath when he moved towards Chris's bed. If he could do this without waking him, then he would. He unravelled the cover which Chris had managed to roll around himself like a caterpillar in a cocoon and slid one arm beneath his neck and the other beneath his knees.

He moved as slowly as he could, lifting Chris from the bed which caused the ten year old to hum, but he didn't stir. If anything, he nuzzled his face into Eddie's chest and tried to curl up into a ball in his arms. It had been a while since Eddie had carried Chris around, especially like this, and he would cling to the little spark of hope this feeling gave him.

Eddie slowly trudged down the hall, trying not to jostle Chris too much and when he got to the hallway, he grabbed his keys from the dish beside the door. It took some effort to unlock the door with Chris in his arms and he figured he should have gotten ready before he grabbed Chris, but it didn't matter much now.

He took his time trying to open the car door as quietly as possible and he eased Chris into the back seat. He made sure to wrap the fluffy blanket around him and let his head loll against the seatbelt. And when he was sure Chris wasn't about to wake up, Eddie slipped the headphones on him for good measure.

The last thing they needed was Chris waking up to (Y/n) crying and wondering what on Earth was happening.

(Y/n) ran her hands up and down her thighs, trying her best not to leave scratches all over her skin as she waited for Eddie to come back. It was hard to stop herself from screaming or from sliding onto the floor and trying to curl in on herself. She didn't know what she wanted to do, but sitting here wasn't it.

"Alright amor, let's get you in the car."

(Y/n) didn't realise how badly she was shaking until she was up on her feet and she felt like her body was vibrating back and forth, but she wasn't cold. She was riddled with sweat and her body felt like it was heating up, although she wasn't burning a fever yet.

She dragged the blanket from the end of the bed and looped it around her arm, she might need that in the car. Once Eddie had the hospital bad on his shoulder and his phone and wallet tucked into his back pocket, he wrapped an arm around her waist and let (Y/n) deadlock his free hand in her grip.

They took a slow walk out to the car, pausing briefly on the porch when (Y/n) pulled on Eddie's hands and hunkered forward to try and dull down the next contraction.

She could barely feel her legs when they got to the car and she was grateful that Eddie helped her into the car. Her head lolled back against the headrest and she tried to cast her eyes behind her to see if Chris was okay. She judged by the fact that he wasn't talking or fidgeting that he was still asleep. Small mercies.

Eddie mumbled "Let's go." once he was in the driver's seat. He was glad he felt wide awake now, it wasn't often that he had to drive in the dead of night like this.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and tilted her head back while one hand curled into a fist and pressed out against the dashboard. Her stomach tensed and her back straightened out like she was a piece of wood that wouldn't bend.

She could feel her teeth scraping against her lower lip that had already split and had the first few layers of skin ripped off so she didn't scream.

Reaching across, Eddie laid his hand down on (Y/n)'s thigh and tried to give a tight squeeze. There wasn't much he could do in the way of comfort or to soothe (Y/n) when he was driving, but he was trying.

His eyes cast up to the rear-view mirror and he looked in the back. Chris was still asleep. When he was younger he used to love a late night drive, the sound of the road and the rocking motion would send him to sleep so hopefully he would stay snuggled in that blanket for a while longer yet.

"H-hurts." (Y/n) desperately tried to stop her voice from coming out in a horrid whine but she couldn't help the way her voice broke and her tone came out with a razor sharp edge.

The contractions were getting stronger and all (Y/n) could do was sit here and wallow in agony. She couldn't walk about or stretch or crouch down or do anything to make herself feel better.

"I know amor, just keep holding on for me."

For this time of night there were quite a few cars out on the road, but at least they wouldn't get stuck in any school or rush hour traffic.

His fingers began to tap against the steering wheel but when he went to take the slip road, his hands suddenly tightened around the wheel and he fought down a groan. His back pressed up into the seat and he put his foot down harder on the gas pedal as he tried his best to think of a different route because the slip road was shut. That was the main road to the hospital.

(Y/n) writhed her head from left to right, but when she tried to focus her eyes, a frown pulled at her lips and she looked up at Eddie. Despite the darkness of the night and the limited road lights, (Y/n) could see where they were. He wasn't going the right way.

"Y-you missed the exit." She did her best not to sound angry, but they had to get to the hospital now because this was definitely labour, without a doubt.

"The road's closed, they must be doing repairs. I gotta re-route baby." Eddie gave her thigh a tight squeeze before he reached out for his phone clipped into the holder beside the steering wheel.

He got onto the app on his phone for maps and put in the hospital's address, it would be quicker than Eddie trying to think of a quick route and finding more road closures. Of course, he knew the way off by heart but the app on his phone would have updates for road works and accidents. It could find them a quicker route and avoid any cut offs.

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

"What?" Panic clouded (Y/n)'s voice and her hand reached out to grip Eddie's arm as she looked between him and his phone.

"It's taking me all the way round the back roads, it- it's double the time to get there."

Eddie's lips curved down into a broken expression when (Y/n) smothered her fist over her mouth so she didn't scream. She didn't want to be sat in the car for longer than necessary, she wasn't sure she could cope with that. Her body was telling her to fidget and move and hunker down but she could barely do anything.

And it wasn't as if Eddie could properly coach her through this when he was driving. And if he pulled over, it would only leave them stranded here without further medical attention.

He tried to drive as fast as he could, being wary of the bends and the corners and in case there were any speed cameras. The last thing they wanted on top of this madness was to either get in a crash or get a speeding ticket.

His hand clenched down on the steering wheel, trying to force all of the nervous energy out of his system so he didn't swerve the car. And his other hand moved to tangle in his hair that was probably still stuck up and crazed in all directions.

But his head twisted to the left when (Y/n) groaned and started to shimmy from side to side. She looked desperately uncomfortable when he snook a glance across at her, but it was the panic on her face that made Eddie's heart stutter in his chest.

"Ohh,"

"What, amor what's wrong?"

"I- I don't…" (Y/n) tried to look over at Eddie through blurring eyes that were going dizzy from the agony. But she couldn't hold his gaze for long before her eyes were tightly closing and she was shifting around again.

Her right hand clenched down around the door handle and her other hand reached across the gears to grip Eddie's thigh, needing to latch onto him somehow, no matter how small the contact was. Her body hunkered forward and her knees pulled up and pressed into the glove box as she cried, trying desperately not to bee too loud, for Chris.

"Jesus baby please don't tell me you're pushing already." The uncertainty in Eddie's voice made (Y/n) whimper and she gripped his thigh tighter until she felt his leg jerk beneath her touch.

She couldn't help it. She was only following what her body wanted her to do, even though it was drawing deep cries from her rumbling chest.

Eddie's eyes narrowed and he snapped his head to look over at her. They weren't at that stage yet. They couldn't be. (Y/n) just had to try and stay calm and settled and he would get her to the hospital as soon as he could. She could push once they were in hospital when a midwife told her to, not here in the car.

"No, no mi amor don't do that. Come on, deep breaths," Eddie reached his hand out, brushing the back of his knuckles against her cheek and down the side of her neck that was flushed with a sheen of sweat and burning hot to the touch.

He moved his hand up until he cupped the back of her neck, lacing his fingers into her hair to try and keep her calm and do something to help because he felt useless right now. But he didn't like the way she choked out a moan and tensed next to him. She pushed up on the edge of the seat, unsure what to do with herself.

Her teeth chattered together and a very forced breath spat past her lips but the way she twisted her body and tensed her stomach made Eddie flinch.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not!" (Y/n) wailed as she pushed his thigh and let go in favour of pressing her hand into the dashboard instead. Nothing about this was okay. They weren't supposed to be having the baby yet. There shouldn't be roadworks disrrupting their trip to the hospital. (Y/n) shouldn't be close to giving birth in the car.

Her body was telling her to push, although she had never been through this experience before, (Y/n) was sure that this was the signal she was getting. Whether or not they wanted to do this here and now didn't matter. She didn't know how to tell her body to wait and hold off. She couldn't squeeze her legs together and hope for the best.

"Eddie, I th- I need to push." The way she whined his name made him shiver but he could barely hear her words when she smothered her palm over her mouth to muffle a cry. She was beginning to feel desperate, there was nothing else she could do but try to push. Her body was aching with a desperate need to have the baby now.

Another cry burst past her lips as she tried to lean forward until her fingers scraped against the blanket she had tossed into the footwell. She had been cold when they got into the car but now she was burning, but she didn't want the blanket for warmth. It was all they had to swaddle the baby in if she was about to have the baby now like she dreaded she was.

She fiddled to try and drape the blanket over her lap but she left it half scrunched up on her thighs. She didn't have the energy or the patience to try and unfold it properly.

(Y/n) pressed her feet down into the footwell and lifted her hips up enough so she could shimmy out of her shorts and underwear. This wasn't dignified and she didn't want to be doing this at all, but she didn't have any other choice. Her body wanted to have the baby now.

She heard Eddie mumbling "Oh Dios," under his breath and the tapping on the wheel became erratic when he snook glances at her. His eyes dragged over (Y/n)'s frame, noting the way her shirt was sliding down one arm, her head was pressing back into the chair and her eyes were screwed shut.

The agony was evident on her face and the way she was arching her thighs off the chair, bracing her weight between her shoulders and her feet.

He tried to reach his hand out and grip her thigh when she screamed pitifully, desperate to provide some sort of comfort but he could feel how tightly her muscles were tensing up and how she was tremoring back and forth.

"How- how much longer?" The desperate tone in her voice made Eddie wince and his heartstrings pulled in agony.

He didn't really want to tell her. He didn't want to say that it would be a while yet until they got there because he was still turning on back roads and heading near a cul-de-sac to go the back way to the hospital rather than the main roads. Eddie didn't want to tell her how much longer he reckoned they would be in the car because he didn't want to distress her any more.

"I'm going as fast as I can, mi amor."

Eddie began to scratch his hand along his chin, rubbing the stubble he hadn't bothered to shave for a few days. He didn't like this. Part of him wished he hadn't bothered getting (Y/n) and Chris in the car and had settled on calling an ambulance instead. At least that way (Y/n) would have been more comfortable and at home with water and scissors and a medic kit.

He would have been able to deliver their baby at home if he didn't get her in the car. But they didn't know (Y/n) would progress this fast. They took a chance, it was all they could do.

"Ooh, p-please," (Y/n) wasn't quite sure what she was asking for, but when Eddie's hand suddenly appeared in front of her, something sparked within her. He sensed what she needed and he had a moment to hold her hand.

She interlaced their fingers and gripped tight, holding his hand against her chest while her other hand gripped the door handle and she pushed. Her chin tucked down and her eyes closed as she groaned, trembling and panting.

Her knees bent out at the sides, pressing into the dash near the gear box and her other knees bashed into the door harsh enough to leave a mark, but it helped pin her body in place and let her push with more effort.

Words and rambles past her lips and when Eddie reluctantly let go of her hand to change gear, she cried out, desperate to gain his touch back again.

"It's okay, you're doing great mi amor, we're almost there."

"Eddie, it- oow it's-" Another cry blundered past her lips as she leaned forward just a little and slid her shaking hands beneath the blanket she draped over herself for modesty.

Eddie could of screamed when a blubbering rendition of "Help!" tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she doubled over so much that her forehead almost collided with the dashboard. There wasn't much help he could give while he was driving.

"Baby, baby listen to me. If you want me to help I need to pull over, okay? Do you want me to pull over?"

She had to tell him what she wanted him to do. If (Y/n) wanted him to pull over and try help deliver the baby then he would gladly do that. But if she wanted him to keep driving to get them to the hospital quicker, he would do that instead and try to coax her through this situation.

A broken sob left (Y/n)'s lips as she muttered "Drive," under her breath. She wanted him to help, but they needed to get to the hospital and delaying wasn't going to do them any good. She didn't want him to stop, they had to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

"Okay." He shifted up a gear after turning off onto a new road and reached over to rest his hand on (Y/n)'s thigh.

When Eddie tore his eyes off the road to look at his wife, she had once again slouched back in the seat. Her arms were hidden beneath the blanket but he could see every part of her was vibrating and shaking. And she was switching between panting and crying with each pain that tore through her.

He glanced into the rear view mirror to check on Chris and he sighed in utter relief when he watched his boy snuggle down into the blanket wrapped around him. Chris had curled up in his seat and he was almost burrowed away out of sight, but that was a good thing. He was happily sleeping and the headphones were working to block out the commotion he was oblivious of in the front of the car.

(Y/n) almost screamed when she suddenly felt Eddie's hand on the side of her neck. She'd been lost in her thoughts with her eyes screwed shut. His hand on her skin was comforting and she could feel his fingers twitching against her neck, gliding across her skin trying to calm her down.

"Jesus you're burning up baby. Big deep breaths, hm?" His thumb brushed across the edge of her jaw and he didn't dare pull his hand away when (Y/n) started to lean her head on his hand and arm.

"T-the head's coming." (Y/n) could barely find the ability to speak, but voicing those words felt like she was speaking a foreign language.

This was not how either of them expected to have their first baby, here, alone in the car with Chris in the backseat. (Y/n) didn't expect to be the one delivering her own baby. In the worst case scenario she thought maybe Eddie might have to deliver their baby, but that was a far fetched worry she thought about. Having this baby in a car wasn't what she had dreamed about when she thought of this scenario.

Her eyes widened and a gasp tumbled past her lips when Eddie veered the car to the left.

"No- no babe please-" (Y/n) broke off into a cry but she didn't divert her eyes away from Eddie as he pulled over and yanked on the brake. He needed to keep driving. They had to be close to the hospital by now, he couldn't stop here.

"Amor I'm not driving until you've had the baby. The hazards are on and we're five minutes away so help might stop by soon. Now let me help."

Eddie couldn't drive anymore. He couldn't keep driving when (Y/n) was having the baby. He couldn't drive and not help her, it was eating away at him and he couldn't let her sit there and do this herself when she was clearly panicking and getting distressed. This was part of Eddie's job. He had delivered babies on shift before, he knew what he was doing.

They were close to the hospital now. They might get lucky and an ambulance or an off duty emergency worker might pass by and see if they needed help. But if not, Eddie would drive them the last mile to the hospital once the baby was safely in (Y/n)'s arms.

He put the hazard lights on, turned off the engine and flung off his belt until it almost whacked into the window with the force he flung it. He shifted around in his seat until he was practically knelt on the edge of his chair and leaning on the gear box so he could lean over (Y/n).

Their eyes locked as he reached beneath the chair to grab the lever so he could push the chair back. There wouldn't be enough space for Eddie to climb or kneel in the footwell but he had to have a bit of room to lean over if he was going to try and deliver their baby.

Trembling breaths stuttered past (Y/n)'s lips as she watched Eddie open the glove box to find the bottle of hand sanitiser he kept in there. Something he'd continued since covid when they were always told to carry sanitiser with them everywhere they went.

Her wide eyes watched Eddie lather his hands and wrists in gel before he leaned over and moved the blanket. He pulled it onto his own lap instead so he could see what he was doing and rest the baby on it when they were here.

"Oh Dios, push again… that's it, heads out."

(Y/n) pushed herself back into the chair, scraping her feet on the floor to try and keep steady and make room for Eddie as he was leant across her rather strangely. She tried to keep her focus on his changing expression, noting the love and shock in his eyes, the way his lips were parted in amazement and he was almost panting along with her.

But (Y/n) had to close her eyes when another pain wracked through her. She gripped the door handle and before she could stop herself she locked her left hand on Eddie's shoulder. He didn't seem to mind, he didn't care if she grabbed or bruised or even hit him, as long as it somehow helped her and calmed her down.

"Just small pushes now baby, almost there." Eddie moved the blanket between (Y/n)'s thighs.

A choked groan left (Y/n)'s lips and she opened her eyes, leaning her head down as she started to gasp. This was it. She could feel it; the baby was here.

She was almost certain that Eddie was trembling when he reached up and curved the blanket around the newborn. (Y/n) felt like trying to take the baby, to do something to help, but she didn't know what to do.

"You've done it baby, you've done it. Good girl."

She heard Eddie speak through a chuckle, but his voice was distant over the constant bells ringing in her ears.

She tossed her head back into the seat and gripped the door handle causing the door to jitter and rattle with how badly she was shaking and gasping. She felt like she was going to combust. Was she dying? Was this normal? Was she supposed to be in this much shock?

Her vision blurred when she tried to look over at Eddie as he pushed up so he wasn't leaning over her thighs anymore, instead he was kneeling up on the driver's seat. Doing his best not to move the baby too far away as the cord was still attached. He couldn't cut it, there was nothing he could use in the car to tie off and cut the cord.

His trembling hand ran up and down the newborn's chest until a small mewling cry flooded the air and a breathless laugh left Eddie's lips. Tears trickled down his face and he turned towards (Y/n), carefully easing their baby down onto her chest when she held her arms out, waiting patiently.

"We've got a girl," Eddie murmured happily while he helped (Y/n) shakily cradle their little girl on her chest. She was still rattling back and forth, but she felt a little better now there was a comforting weight on her chest. And she wanted to smile when she felt Eddie tucking the ends of the blanket around her chest to bind her and the baby together and keep them both warm.

Tears trickled down (Y/n)'s face when Eddie's hand cupped the back of her head and his lips smothered her temple. He peppered dozens of kisses against her skin and tried to catch his breaths back.

She had done that. She had given birth in the car.

"Are you okay?" There was a sense of urgency in Eddie's voice that made (Y/n)'s heart beat even faster than before. He could feel the heat radiating off of her and how she was panting like she had run a marathon, but she looked relatively okay in his humble opinion.

(Y/n) didn't trust her voice so she settled on humming and she angled her head back to capture Eddie's lips in a kiss.

With a deep breath, Eddie finally unlatched himself from (Y/n), assured that she was relatively alright and their girl was still mewling and breathing. That was the main thing.

He pushed back into the driver's seat and when he caught sight of a florescent van in the distance, his heart soared. An ambulance. There were no flashing lights and no siren blasting, it wasn't on the way to an emergency. Perfect.

Reaching his hand out, Eddie turned the key in the ignition and hammered on the horn to gain attention.

He cringed when he heard Chris groan and whimper. He was finally waking up; Thank God he had slept through until now. This would make for a fun and surprising story when they explained to him what had happened.

The ambulance had turned their lights on and was aiming to pull up in front of them. Help had arrived.

"What did I tell you, ey? Help's here."

A shiver coursed down Eddie's spine and his breaths paused when he felt (Y/n)'s shaking hand cupping the side of his face. He felt her thumb gliding across his cheek, so soft it felt like the wind or a soft feather tickling his skin. And the way she smiled up at him made his insides melt as she murmured "I know."

Help was already here, in the form of her husband.