#the face and arms and everything is so good

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - taking care of you

x FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: +3.7K

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: reader is pregnant, soft!rafe cameron (to you anyway), talks of nausea and vomiting

the streets of the outer banks were quiet, except for the distant crashing of waves and the occasional bark of a stray dog. the four of you—sarah, kie, john b, and yourself—had split up to search for jj, who had gone on yet another self-destructive bender. the tension was thick in the air, but you barely noticed it, your focus entirely on the uneasy churning in your stomach.

it wasn’t just stress. the nausea had been growing worse by the day. you could feel it now, bubbling under the surface, threatening to spill over.

“are you okay?” sarah asked, looking back at you. she’s been keeping close, ever the protective sister-figure, but her sharpness softened when she noticed how tired you looked.

“i’m fine,” you lied, your voice tight. “i’ll be right back. i just... i just need to—”

you didn’t finish. instead, you veered off down the street, away from her questioning gaze, and toward the first place that caught your eye: pitts st. pharmacy.

the store was a mess, looted and trashed, shelves toppled and goods scattered across the floor. you stepped inside, heart hammering, and made your way through the debris. the nagging fear that had been gnawing at you for weeks now screamed in your head. it couldn’t be true, but you needed to know for sure.

your eyes scanned the wreckage until you found what you were looking for: a small box of pregnancy tests, dented but intact. grabbig it, you made your way to the bathroom at the back of the store.

inside, the lights flickered dimly. the sink was covered in grime, and the toilet looked worse, but none of that mattered. you locked the door behind you and ripped open the box, your hands shaking.

minutes later, you sat on the edge of the sink, staring at the test in your hands.

two lines.

“no,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head as if you could will the result to change. but it didn’t. it stayed the same—two unmistakable, life-altering lines.

you were broke, had no place to stay, and were currently under stress from everything that was happening. you barely had any food. how could you care for a child?

you felt the nausea return with a vengeance, and you barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing everything up.

a loud knock at the door startled you mid-heave.

“y/n?” kie’s voice came through, worried and muffled. “are you in there? are you okay?”

you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, wiping your mouth as your body trembled. the door creaked open, and sarah stepped in, kie close behind her. their faces were a mixture of confusion and concern.

“holy shit,” she said, taking in the state of you. “what happened?”

sarah’s eyes flicked to the sink, where the pregnancy test sat. her jaw dropped, and for a second, she just stared at you, stunned.

“oh my gosh,” sarah whispered. “are you—”

you cut her off with a tear running down your face, “don’t say it, if you say it, it means it’s real. i can’t do this.”

you buried your face in your hands, unable to face her. “i didn’t mean for this to happen,” you choked out, your voice breaking, and your heart followed.

kie grabbed the test, her brows furrowing as she saw the result. “is this real?”

you nodded, still shaking.

“okay, okay,” sarah said, crouching beside you. her voice was calm, but there was an edge of urgency in it. “we’re going to figure this out.”

she took a step closer, her expression shocked. “does rafe know you’ve been feeling like that?”

your stomach twisted again, this time with a different kind of nausea. “no,” you admitted. “i haven’t told anyone.”

kie crossed her arms, glancing at you. “well, this explains why you’ve been so out of it lately,” she said, her voice softer than usual.

the lump in your throat grew, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. “i just don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice breaking.

sarah pulled you into a hug, her arms strong and steady. “you don’t have to figure it out right now,” she said softly. “one step at a time. we’ll help you, i promise.”

you blinked at her, surprised by the warmth in her voice. “you’re not mad?”

sarah shook her head. “no. i mean… i won’t lie, this is a lot. but i’m not mad. rafe’s… complicated,” she admitted, her tone careful. “but he’s still my brother. and you’re our best friend. we’ll deal with this, whatever happens.”

kie sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah. i mean, i still think rafe is a total disaster, but… we’re here for you. whatever you need.”

“thank you,” you managed to crack a smile but your voice still cracked.

the boat rocked gently over the waves, the endless ocean stretching out in every direction as the pogues sailed toward morocco. the salty air was cool against your skin, but your nerves were hotter than ever. below deck, in the cramped bathroom, rafe was tied up like cargo—his usual sneer subdued by whatever storm was brewing in his mind.

sarah and kiara sat beside you near the railing, both trying to make small talk to distract you from the weight of your secret. you hadn’t told anyone else yet—only them. sarah had been protective from the moment she found out, and kie, despite her initial shock, had become a steadying presence. but you knew you couldn’t keep this from the others forever.

it had to come out now, before someone else pieced it together.

john b, jj, pope, and cleo were sitting farther up on the deck, laughing about something jj had said, the tension of the past few days temporarily pushed aside. you took a deep breath and glanced at sarah. she squeezed your hand reassuringly, nodding.

“alright,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you stood. “i need to tell you guys something.”

the laughter died down, and all four of them turned to look at you. jj raised an eyebrow, while cleo leaned back, her arms crossed, her expression curious but calm.

“what’s up?” john b asked, tilting his head.

you hesitated, your hands shaking as you clutched the edge of your hoodie. kie stood up beside you, her presence a quiet show of support, and sarah followed suit, stepping forward slightly like a shield.

“so, uh... i’m pregnant,” you blurted out, the words spilling from your lips before you could overthink them again.

the silence that followed was deafening.

jj blinked a few times, his mouth hanging open. pope froze, the book in his hands slipping onto the deck. john b stared at you, his face blank with shock, while cleo tilted her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line.

“wait, what?” jj finally said, breaking the silence. “you’re serious? like… a baby?”

“yes, jj,” sarah’s voice was serious, with a small hint of enthousiasm. “a baby.”

pope’s brows furrowed as he leaned forward, his voice cautious. “uh… does he know?”

you shook your head quickly. “no. and i don’t want him to know. not yet, i think. i need to figure out what I’m going to do first.”

john b ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the cabin. “he’s going to find out eventually. you know that, right?”

“yeah, but not now,” sarah said, stepping closer to you. “she doesn’t owe him anything. not until she’s ready.”

jj finally seemed to process what you’d said, his usual smirk replaced by something more sincere. “holy shit,” he muttered, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “you’re gonna be a mom.”

cleo stood, brushing off her pants as she walked over to you. she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes soft and understanding. “hey,” she said, her voice low but warm. “you alright? how’re you feelin’? you eatin’ enough?”

the sudden shift to motherly concern caught you off guard, and your throat tightened as tears pricked your eyes. “i… i’m okay,” you said, your voice shaky. “i mean, not really, but i’m trying.”

cleo nodded, her hand moving to rub your back. “good. ‘cause you gotta take care of yourself now, you hear me? you need anything, you come to us. don’t keep it all bottled up.”

her kindness undid you, and before you knew it, you were crying, tears streaming down your face as all the emotions you’d been holding in came flooding out. cleo pulled you into a hug, her arms strong and comforting.

“it’s okay,” she murmured. “we got you.”

jj scratched the back of his head, his expression torn between awkwardness and a genuine desire to help. “uh… do you, like, need anything? cravings or whatever? i could… i don’t know, fish or something?”

“geez, jj,” kie said, rolling her eyes, though there was a faint smile on her lips.

“what?” jj said, throwing up his hands. “i’m trying to be helpful!”

pope finally broke his silence, his voice calm but thoughtful. “this is big,” he said. “but you don’t have to do it alone. we’re a team, and we’ve got your back.”

john b nodded, though his expression was still conflicted. “yeah. we’ll figure it out, together.”

sarah crossed her arms, her gaze flicking toward the cabin. “i don’t know if rafe being a dad is going to be a good thing,” she said quietly. “but i know for sure, that you can always count on us.”

you wiped your face, looking around at your friends—your family. despite the chaos of the situation, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.

“thanks, guys,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

cleo gave you a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “alright. now you sit down, drink some water, and take it easy. baby’s already got enough drama in its life with this crew.”

that earned a few laughs, breaking the tension on the deck. even jj cracked a grin, though his eyes were still darting toward the cabin like he was expecting rafe to burst out at any moment.

the storm rolled in faster than any of you expected. the dark clouds roared overhead, the wind screaming as waves battered the small boat. rain lashed at your face as you clung to the railing, your knuckles white as the boat pitched violently.

“hold it steady!” john b yelled from the helm, fighting to keep the boat on course.

“we’re trying!” pope shouted back, struggling to tie down a loose rope.

everyone was scrambling, shouting over the howling wind, when your eyes darted toward the cabin where rafe was still tied up. the boat lurched again, and you realized the storm was too much for the pogues to handle alone.

you turned to cleo, who was gripping a rope near the mast. “cleo!” you shouted.

she looked up, rain streaming down her face. “what?”

“untie rafe! we need his help!”

her brows furrowed in hesitation, but another massive wave slammed into the boat, nearly knocking her off her feet. “you sure about this?”

“just do it!” you yelled, already moving toward the railing to help pope with the ropes.

cleo disappeared into the cabin, and moments later, rafe stumbled out onto the deck, his wrists free but still red from the ropes. his eyes were wild, darting around as he took in the chaos.

“help with the sail!” kie barked at him, pointing toward the mast.

for once, rafe didn’t argue. he jumped into action, his strength proving useful as he wrestled with the ropes alongside pope and jj.

oyu turned back toward the deck, trying to keep your footing as the boat tilted dangerously. the storm’s fury was disorienting, and the slippery surface of the deck made every step treacherous.

then it happened.

your foot slipped on a patch of wet wood, and you stumbled forward. before you could catch yourself, the boat lurched again, and the railing vanished beneath you.

“y/n!” rafe’s voice tore through the storm as you plunged into the icy water.

the cold was a shock, stealing the breath from your lungs as you struggled to orient yourself in the churning waves. you heard shouts from the boat above, barely audible over the roar of the storm.

jj’s voice was the loudest. “i’m going after her!”

“be careful!” john b yelled after him. “think about the baby! don’t squeeze her stomach!”

the words hung in the air, cutting through the chaos. on deck, rafe froze, his hands gripping the mast as his head whipped toward john b.

“what did he say?” he demanded, his voice sharp despite the storm.

sarah turned to him, her face pale, but there was no time to explain. another wave crashed over the boat, and she grabbed onto the railing, shouting at him to focus.

his eyes narrowed, jaw tightening, but he said nothing. instead, he turned his gaze to the water, scanning for any sign of you or jj.

hours passed, the storm finally beginning to die down as the sun peeked through the clouds. the pogues had managed to navigate to a small stretch of land, pulling the boat onto a rocky shore. the group was soaked, exhausted, and anxious.

sarah was pacing along the water’s edge, arms wrapped around herself. her lips were pressed into a thin line, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “it’s been too long,” she muttered, her voice strained.

“they’ll be back,” cleo said, trying to sound confident, though her eyes betrayed her own concern.

sarah shook her had and paced back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “they should’ve come back by now,” she said, her voice cracking.

“they will,” pope said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

rafe stood apart from the group, his arms crossed as he stared out at the horizon. his mind was racing, replaying john b’s words over and over again.

“think about the baby.”

he clenched his jaw and turned toward sarah, his voice sharp but controlled. “you knew, didn’t you?”

she stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing. “knew what?”

“don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “about her—about the fact she’s pregnant.”

the rest of the pogues glanced at each other, unsure whether to intervene. sarah sighed, walking closer to him.

“yes, i knew,” she admitted, her tone calm. “she told us a while ago.”

“and you didn’t think i had a right to know?” rafe’s voice rose slightly, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “you thought it was okay to keep that to yourself? to keep it from me?”

“she wasn’t ready to tell you,” sarah said, keeping her voice steady. “this isn’t about you, rafe. it’s about her—and her baby.”

rafe scoffed, running a hand through his wet hair. “my baby! it is about me, sarah. it’s my—our kid! and none of you thought i should know? that’s not your call to make.”

kie stepped forward, arms crossed. “she’s been through a lot, rafe. maybe think about her feelings for once instead of your own.”

rafe glared at her, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “i’m thinking about her and the baby, okay? i just—” he broke off, pacing a few steps away before turning back to face them. “she’s out there, in the water, and nobody bothered to tell me anything. do you know what that feels like?”

john b, who had been silent until now, raised a hand. “alright, chill, bro. she didn’t want you to know yet. we were just trying to respect that.”

rafe shook his head, muttering under his breath. “unbelievable.”

pope, ever the peacemaker, cleared his throat. “look, what’s done is done. the important thing is finding them. once they’re back, we can figure all this out. together.”

before anyone could respond, cleo’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “wait. look!”

all heads turned toward the shoreline. two figures emerged from the distance.

“is that—” sarah started, but rafe didn’t wait for confirmation.

“y/n!” he shouted, already breaking into a run.

the others followed as rafe sprinted across the rocky terrain, his heart pounding in his chest. the moment he reached you, he didn’t hesitate. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace despite how drenched and exhausted you were.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “thank God.”

jj, who was supporting you with one arm, stepped back with a faint smirk. “guess i’m chopped liver now,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his relief.

“shut up, j,” sarah said, brushing past him to check on you. “are you hurt? is the baby okay?”

jj made a wincing sound, “i’m good as well, thanks for asking.”

you nodded weakly, your voice barely audible. “i’m okay. we’re okay.”

rafe pulled back slightly, his hands still gripping your shoulders as he searched your face. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

you hesitated, your gaze flicking to the others before landing back on him. “i didn’t know how,” you admitted. “i didn’t know what you’d do.”

his expression softened, though the frustration still lingered in his eyes. “i’m not perfect, y/n, but i deserved to know. you should’ve told me.”

“i know,” you whispered. “i’m sorry.”

he exhaled deeply, shaking his head. “we’ll figure it out. but next time, don’t keep me in the dark, okay?”

you nodded, tears stinging your eyes as relief washed over you.

the rest of the pogues watched from a few feet away, the tension easing as they saw the interaction. cleo crossed her arms with a satisfied smirk. “looks like things are about to get real interesting around here.”

kiara rolled her eyes. “as if they weren’t already.”

“alright, people,” john b said, clapping his hands. “let’s get back on the boat. we’ve got a long way to go, and i don’t think this baby is waiting for us to sort out our drama.”

everyone chuckled softly, the storm behind them in more ways than one as they headed back toward the boat—together.

the sun was blazing overhead as the boat pulled into the small, bustling port of a coastal moroccan town. the storm was a distant memory now, though the tension it left behind was still palpable. the pogues were quiet as they docked, the salt-crusted air mingling with the scents of spices and fresh fish wafting from the market nearby.

rafe hadn’t let go of your hand since the moment he had you back, and he wasn’t about to start now. his grip was firm but gentle, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin as if to reassure himself that you were still there.

“you feelin’ okay?” he asked quietly, leaning closer to you as the group began unloading supplies.

“i’m fine,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, though the way your heart fluttered at his concern betrayed your frustration.

he didn’t seem convinced. “you need water? food? to sit down for a bit?”

oyu sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “rafe, i’m okay. really.”

sarah, who had been listening with mild amusement, rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag. “rafe, she’s pregnant, not fragile. let her breathe.”

he shot her a glare but didn’t respond, his attention still on you. “just let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.

“i will,” you promised, squeezing his hand.

as the group made their way into the town, the cobblestone streets came alive with vibrant colors and sounds. market stalls were bursting with fruits, textiles, and handcrafted goods, and merchants called out in several languages to passersby. the sheer energy of the place was overwhelming but invigorating.

jj whistled low, his eyes scanning the scene. “man, this place is something else.”

“keep your eyes on the mission,” pope reminded him, though even he couldn’t hide his awe.

cleo grinned, nudging you lightly. “bet you could use some of this food right about now, huh? what’s baby hungry for?”

you laughed, shaking your head. “we’re good, cleo, i promise. let’s just focus on finding groff.”

“still, wouldn’t hurt to grab something for later,” rafe said, already scanning the nearest stalls.

sarah groaned. “rafe, i swear, if you don’t chill—”

“leave him be,” john b cut in with a smirk. “it’s kinda funny. in an overbearing, borderline-annoying way.”

rafe ignored them both, steering you gently toward a fruit stand. “pick something. anything.”

you sighed but complied, grabbing a couple of oranges. the merchant smiled warmly as he handed over a few bills, and you couldn’t help but notice how his demeanor had shifted. gone was the sharp-edged, volatile rafe you were used to. in his place was someone softer, more attentive—a side of him you hadn’t seen before.

as the group continued deeper into the town, jj walked beside you, his voice low. “how are you feeling? really.”

“i’m good, i think,” you said honestly. “it’s just... a lot to take in.”

he nodded, her expression thoughtful. “rafe’s... different with you. i mean, not completely different, but it’s like he actually cares. that’s new.”

you glanced at rafe, who was busy arguing with pope about directions. a small smile tugged at your lips. “yeah. it is.”

before jj could respond, john b waved the group over. “alright, we’ve got a lead,” he said, holding up a map. “groff’s last known location is a few miles inland. we need to keep moving if we’re gonna catch him.”

the group fell into step, following john b through the winding streets. rafe stayed close to you, his hand never leaving yours, his protectiveness unwavering.

“let me carry your bag,” he offered as the heat bore down on the group.

“rafe, i’ve got it,” you said, though your tone was more amused than annoyed.

he gave you a look but didn’t push the issue. insteaf, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “you sure?”

“i’m sure,” you said softly, your chest tightening at the concern in his eyes.

for a moment, the chaos of your journey faded, and it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a foreign town, surrounded by the buzz of life. depsite everything—the storm, the baby, the uncertainty of what lay ahead—you felt a flicker of peace.

“we’ll figure this out,” rafe said, his voice low but steady. “all of it. i promise.”

and for the first time, you believed him.

[cosmicporos]

What would Arcane characters call their partner? What pet/nicknames would they use?

AHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE! Thank you anon :3

Synopsis: A lot of little cut scenarios where arcane characters call you by cute pet names!

Characters: Sevika, Vander, Silco, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor

((awkward Ekko x reader, Teasing Viktor x reader (he calls you an airhead…))

Warning: Angst for Silco, called you “Pet” but ends with comfort!

Not proofread

Sevika

Nicknames for you: Darling, Dear, Sweet thing, Babe, Dove.

Okay maybe I’m over sentimental but imagine her calling you Dove because you bring her so much peace in life. So you’re quite literally her little peace dove.

Sevika leaned against the bar, her mechanical arm resting on the counter as she watched you move around the room. It wasn't anything special-just you tidying up after a long day-but to her, it was everything. "You know," she started, her voice low and gravelly, "you've got this way of makin' the world feel... quieter."

You paused, glancing at her with a small smile. "Yeah? That a good thing?"

She smirked, pushing off the bar to walk toward you. "It's a damn miracle, is what it is. You don't know what it's like Dove… how loud it gets up here." She tapped her temple with a finger, her gaze softening. "But then you show up, and it's like everything just... stops."

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in her voice, but you kept your focus on folding a stray cloth. "I didn't think I was doing anything special."

Sevika snorted, stepping closer. "That's the thing. You don't even try, and still... you're it for me. My peace. My little Dove."

Vander

Nicknames for you: Peach, Love, Sweet Pea, Darling, Sunshine, Lass/Lad.

The Last Drop was unusually quiet. The usual clatter of mugs and background chatter of conversation was replaced by the occasional cough or sniffle from the makeshift beds spread around the common room. Powder, Mylo, Claggor, and Vi lay bundled in blankets, their fevered faces flushed as they sipped the herbal tea Vander had brewed.

"Peach," Vander called softly, his deep voice cutting through the stillness as he approached you. You were perched on a low stool, dabbing a cool cloth against Powder's forehead. He knelt beside you, resting his broad hand on your shoulder. "You've been fussin' over them all day. Why don't you take a break, huh? Let me handle things for a while."

"I'm fine," you said, though your hands trembled slightly as you wrung out the cloth."They need us."

He tilted his head, giving you that steady, knowing look of his. "And I need you to take care of yourself, Peach. You're no good to anyone if you run yourself into the ground."

Powder stirred, her small hand reaching out to grab yours. "Don't go," she mumbled, her voice weak.

You smoothed her hair back, glancing at Vander. "See? They need me."

Vander sighed, his lips twitching into a faint smile despite himself. "Stubborn as ever," he muttered. "Alright, Peach. We'll do this together, then."

Silco

Nicknames for you: Darling, Precious, lovely, Pet, Beloved.

After Jinx’s fiasco over at Topside it was obvious Silco was more than simply stressed.

In fact tension in the room was palpable, suffocating as it weighed down on your chest. Silco's piercing gaze bore into you, his lips pressed into a thin line. You'd overstepped-at least, in his mind-and now his sharp tongue was letting you know it.

"Stay out of matters you don't understand, pet," he snapped, the word cutting and cold as it left his mouth.

You flinched, the sting of his words settling deep. Your jaw clenched, and you refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the cracked edge of the table.

“I was—I was only thinking about Jinx.” You gulped down the bile that burned in your throat. “Temporary keeping her from missions is keeping her safe.” You spoke finally looking up at him with your wet pathetic eyes.

The silence that followed was deafening. Silco's breath hitched as he realized what he'd said, the regret settling in almost immediately. His tone had been cruel, and the look on your face drove a pang of guilt through his chest.

“I apologize…” he said softly, his voice no longer harsh. "That was... uncalled for." He spoke as he stood up, fixing his cuffs as he walks over towards you.

Silco stepped closer until he was within arm's reach. "I shouldn't have said that. You didn't deserve it," he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You mean too much to me for me to speak to you that way."

When you still didn't respond, he hesitated for a moment before tilting your chin up with his gloved fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his mismatched ones.

"Forgive me," he whispered, his tone sincere. "You are not my pet. You are my beloved. The only one who stands beside me, who understands me."

Caitlyn

Nicknames for you: Petal, Cheeky one, Muffin, Trouble, Dearest.

Flour completely dusted the countertop and your face as you tried to knead the dough. Caitlyn stood across from you, her sleeves rolled up, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"Petal," she said, tilting her head, "you're supposed to knead it, not wrestle it."

You huffed, brushing flour from your cheek. “It's sticking to my hands! I’m not sure how else I’m supposed to tackle this.”

Caitlyn chuckled and walked over, gently taking your hands in hers. "Here, let me show you." She guided your movements, her hands warm and steady.

When the dough finally started to cooperate, you couldn't resist smearing a bit of flour on her cheek. She froze, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “Trouble," she murmured, her voice teasing.

You grinned, backing away. "You love it."

Her soft laugh filled the kitchen as she grabbed a handful of flour. "Oh, I do. But you're not getting away with that."

Ekko

Nicknames for you: Firefly, Sugar, babe, baby, Cutie

You sat on a spinning chair in ekko’s workshop mindlessly spinning while watching him work. He was trying to fix a circuit board, but his focus seemed to drift in your direction. You caught him glancing at you a few times, his brow furrowed as though he was thinking of something important.

After a moment of silence, Ekko cleared his throat, his usual confidence wavering slightly. He set down his tools and looked at you with a small smile, hands shoved into his pockets. "Hey, uh... can I tell you something?" he asked, voice a little too casual.

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden and strange behavior. "Sure. What's up?"

He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "Well, I've been meaning to call you something... I dunno, it's just, uh, you're always so sweet, you know?" He glanced up at you briefly, cheeks turning faintly pink. “So, I was thinking... Sugar?"

There was a long, awkward pause. You blinked, processing the nickname, unsure how to respond. "Sugar?" you repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Really?"

Ekko's face reddened even more. "Yeah, I mean-because, uh, you're sweet... like sugar? You know?" He shrugged, clearly flustered now. "It's not like, weird, right?"

You couldn't help it you laughed, the sound light and teasing, but not unkind. "I don't know, Ekko. It's a bit... unexpected," you said, still grinning.

His gaze shifted, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Okay, okay, I get it. That was dumb, huh? Just trying to be smooth, but I guess it's not my thing." He shifted uncomfortably.

against his arm, your smile softening. "It's cute," you said, voice warm. "But I think you can do better."

He met your eyes, a sheepish grin finally breaking through his awkwardness. "Yeah? You think so?…Well, I'll keep working on it then."

Viktor

Nicknames for you: Beautiful, Trinket, Dearest, Cheeky, Airhead, Sweetling.

You were fiddling with a complicated piece of tech, the gears and wires all tangled in a way that made your focus drift. Viktor stood beside you, watching with a raised eyebrow as you muttered to yourself.

"Careful, darling," he teased with a sly smile, his voice smooth and mature. "An airhead might break something important."

You shot him a playful glare, a little flustered. “I'm not an airhead! Besides…I'm working on it!" you said, trying to hide the embarrassment in your voice.

Viktor chuckled, reaching over and gently fixing the wires with practiced hands. His tone softened as he met your gaze. "I didn't mean it, Sweetling. You're far from an airhead. You just... get a little lost in your thoughts sometimes." He smiled warmly. “And I think it's kind of endearing."

You felt your heart warm at his change in tone, the teasing replaced by something far more tender. "Geez thanks, Viktor." You pouted and sighed out quietly.

He smiled and chuckled softly, his hand now brushing against yours. "Anything for you, Sweetling."

HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT<3 thanks so much for all the support on my last post :>

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[beloveds-embrace]

Dukedom au but instead of the men noticing reader post marriage, they already notice her pre marriage like maybe before they went to war and meet each other. She use to be so radiant especially on her debut to society. She dances John and Simon and they were entranced since then. Maybe she likes sneaking out bro mingle with the commons and met Johnny and Kyle that way. Then war happened and many other things by the time they were back they’re not exactly expecting their dream girl to be unmarried, she’s so beautiful why would she be unmarried, besides they have each other now.

Imagine their surprise when they found out not only is she unmarried but rather unpopular in society for one or two petty reasons too.

ANONNNNN I LOVE YOUR MIND

It wasn’t until after his return from the military- when he finally came home with Simon by his side, Kyle and Johnny already settled into their places in his household- that John actually heard the full extent of the rumors surrounding you.

You were barren, they said. Damaged. A woman past her prime who had rejected too many suitors out of pride and was now paying the price. Not docile enough to be a good wife, too much of a spitfire. Hysterical, the last time you had snapped at a man who had gotten a little too close to you. A stain on your family’s lineage, who were trying desperately to marry you off.

Kyle had been the first to bring it up, muttering about what he’d overheard at the bakery one morning while helping Johnny’s parents prepare for the day. Johnny, normally so cheerful, had been uncharacteristically quiet about the whole thing- quiet in that dangerous, simmering way that meant he was ready to fight anyone who so much as looked at you wrong.

And Simon?

Simon had just looked at John.

“Fix it.” he’d said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t simple.

Not when the love John felt for you had been complicated from the start. Not when Kyle and Johnny and Simon already occupied so much of his heart, and the idea of forcing you to share that space- even with men who adored you already- felt like asking too much.

So he waited, and waited.

He waited until he saw you again, looking so perfectly soft and sweet and untouched by the harshness of the world around you, even despite all the hate-filled rumors aimed your way, it nearly broke him. He waited until Kyle started dropping more and more excuses to see you, until Johnny began dragging you into their outings, until even Simon- gruff, stoic Simon- began pausing to ask how you were doing when he saw you in passing.

He waited until he couldn’t not ask.

And when he finally did- when he knelt before you and offered you everything he had, everything he was, everything they were because he would keep anything a secret from you- you didn’t answer right away.

“John…” You were at a loss for words, eyes shifting to a fro. You could hear your parents practically yelling at you to just accept, no matter what, within your mind.

Your cheeks turned warmer than a furnace, and you lowered your head, gritting your teeth. “Surely you all know that- that I’m not… exactly the best candidate for you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, and he wanted to kiss that expression off your face. Replace it with something happier, brighter.

“It doesn’t matter.” John repeated, voice soft and so painfully fond. “They can say all they want. It’s you who I care about- we care about. Nobody else matters. Nothing else matters, except for your happiness and what you want. So I ask again… will you be my Duchess?”

You bit your lips, ignoring the tiny little voice of your nanny scolding you for your terrible nervous habit. You wanted to accept. You ached to accept.

“Promise me, John,” you breathed out. And he listened, more than anyone else ever has. “Promise me. I won’t ever be a simple accessory on your arm, or a forgotten relic in your home. I won’t be brushed aside, while everyone around me is loved. Please, John. If you can promise me that, then I accept.”

And for John?

It didn’t even take him a second before agreed; already, he could imagine the relief that the others would have, as well.

He could also imagine you, blooming in their home.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻

“ Twisted Wings: The Joker’s Plaything ”

Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 4

Summary: Everything hurts... But... But he can take it... He can take it... He just have to wait... He just have to wait... You and Bruce won't let him rot like this... Right?

Warning: Physically and mentally torture, Joker being Joker.

Notes: Merry Christmas everybody! I'm about to ruin it for you... English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

When the cell door creaked open, Jason didn’t even look up. He kept his head down, staring at the cracked concrete floor.

“Oh, bird boy,” the Joker sang, his voice laced with mockery. “Still sulking, are we? What’s the matter? Don’t like the accommodations? Or is it the lack of fine dining?”

Jason didn’t answer. He barely even moved, his breaths shallow and labored.

The Joker’s boots clunked against the floor as he sauntered in, something dangling from his gloved hand. “Well, lucky for you, Papa J is feeling generous today! I brought you something special.”

Jason’s stomach churned as the Joker dropped his “gift” onto the floor in front of him.

Dead rats. Three of them. Their tiny, broken bodies lay sprawled on the floor, their glazed eyes staring up at Jason.

Jason’s lips curled in disgust, and he finally looked up, glaring at the Joker. “You’re fucking insane,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

The Joker grinned, crouching down so his face was level with Jason’s. “Oh, come on, kiddo. Don’t be rude. I went through all the trouble of finding these little guys for you! Freshly caught, too. You should be grateful.”

Jason swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat. His stomach twisted painfully, but he refused to give in. He spat at the Joker’s feet, his good eye blazing with defiance. “Fuck you.”

For a moment, the Joker stared at him, his grin faltering. Then, to Jason’s surprise, the clown’s face lit up with genuine delight. He clapped his hands together, letting out a peal of laughter that echoed through the cell.

“Oh, you’re precious! You really think you can starve yourself to death, don’t you? You’d rather wither away than eat the lovely meal I prepared just for you. How dramatic! How noble!”

Jason clenched his jaw, his body trembling with rage and hunger. “I’m not eating your fucking rats.”

The Joker’s grin widened, and he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a phone. “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind, bird boy. Because if you don’t…” He tapped the screen, and the phone lit up. “Well, let’s just say things are going to get a lot more interesting.”

Jason froze. His heart dropped into his stomach as he stared at the screen.

It was her.

She was standing in what looked like an alley, her arms crossed, her face pale. She wasn’t tied up or restrained, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

Jason’s chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. “No…”

The Joker’s grin stretched impossibly wide. “Oh, yes. You see, bird boy, if you don’t play along, I’m going to pay your little girlfriend a visit. And do you know what I’m going to do?”

Jason shook his head, his voice trembling. “Please… don’t…”

“I’m going to skin her alive,” the Joker said, his voice gleeful. “I’ll peel her pretty little face right off, inch by inch. Then I’ll cook her up into a nice, juicy meal—just for you! Imagine that: you, sitting right here, munching on her crispy little fingers. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

Jason’s vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “No… Please, not her. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt her. Please…”

The Joker tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “Then eat,” he said simply, gesturing to the rats.

Jason stared at the dead animals, bile rising in his throat. He wanted to say no, to refuse, to let himself starve. But the image of her face haunted him—the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her hands. He couldn’t let the Joker touch her. He couldn’t let him win.

With trembling hands, Jason reached for one of the rats.

“There’s a good boy,” the Joker cooed, clapping his hands. “Now, be a dear and eat up. And make it quick—I’ve got places to be!”

Jason gagged as he brought the rat to his mouth. The stench of decay hit him like a brick, and he had to fight the urge to vomit. He closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face, and bit into the flesh.

The Joker erupted into laughter, his cackles filling the room. “Oh, this is priceless! Look at you, bird boy, gobbling up rats like a starving stray. Faster now! Come on, show me how much you care about her!”

Jason obeyed, choking down the rancid meat as tears blurred his vision. The Joker’s cheers echoed in his ears, each word a dagger to his soul.

“Faster! Faster! Don’t keep Papa J waiting!”

Jason sobbed as he forced himself to eat, his body shaking with revulsion and despair. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at him. He clung to those memories like a lifeline, even as the Joker’s laughter threatened to drown him.

She loves me, she loves me. She was just scared. She’ll come back… She’ll come back…

His mind screamed at him to stop, to fight back, to do anything but this. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let her die.

Everything hurts…

But he could take it.

He had to.

They’ll come for me, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra. Bruce won’t let me die here. She won’t let me die here. I just have to wait. Just a little longer…

But deep down, a voice whispered in the back of his mind—a voice that sounded eerily like the Joker’s.

What if they don’t?

Jason didn’t know how long he’d been in the chair. Days? Weeks? Months? The passage of time had become a blur, a murky haze of pain, humiliation, and Joker’s laughter. He couldn’t tell what was worse—the physical agony or the constant barrage of words designed to pick him apart piece by piece.

The room was cold and damp, the stench of mildew and blood lingering in the air. His wrists were raw and bleeding from the restraints, his muscles aching from being held in the same position for hours—days, maybe. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. But worse than all of it was the gnawing emptiness inside him.

The door creaked open, and Jason instinctively flinched. He hated that reaction, hated how the sound of that door sent ice through his veins. But it was impossible not to. Joker entered with his usual swagger, his painted grin stretching impossibly wide.

“Wakey, wakey, bird boy!” he sang, his voice grating and shrill.

Jason didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He focused on the floor, the dirt-streaked concrete beneath his feet, anything but the clown.

“Aww, what’s the matter, kiddo?” Joker cooed, circling him like a vulture. “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe…” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. “Maybe you’re starting to break, hmm?”

Jason didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the sharp pain in his cracked ribs. He wouldn’t give Joker the satisfaction.

But Joker didn’t need words. He always found a way to dig his claws into Jason’s mind.

“I brought you a little present today,” Joker said, his tone sing-song. “Thought it might cheer you up, you know, brighten your spirits!” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “It’s picture day, after all!”

Jason finally looked up, his good eye narrowing at Joker. The clown grinned wider and held out the paper, waving it in front of Jason’s face.

“Go on, take a look. Don’t be shy!”

His bound hands couldn’t reach, so Joker leaned in and shoved the picture into his line of sight.

Jason’s blood turned to ice.

It was a photograph. A grainy, Polaroid snapshot of her. She was smiling—laughing, even—standing beside someone in a Robin suit. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his suit.

“No…” Jason whispered, his voice cracking.

“Oh, yes,” Joker said, his tone gleeful. “That’s your replacement, kiddo! Isn’t he a real charmer? A little younger, a little smarter… and oh, so much shinier!”

Jason’s chest tightened. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced, his heart pounding against his bruised ribs.

“She’s moved on, bird boy,” Joker continued, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You’ve been replaced. Forgotten. Left behind. And look at her—she’s happier, isn’t she? Laughing, smiling, all while you’re down here rotting away.”

Jason shook his head, his breaths coming faster. “No… no, she wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?” Joker interrupted, his tone suddenly sharp. “Wouldn’t forget about you? Wouldn’t find someone better? Oh, come on, kid. Look at the picture. You’re not even a memory to her anymore. You’re nothing.”

Jason felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t show weakness. Not now.

Joker noticed anyway. He always noticed.

“Aww, poor little Robin,” Joker mocked, crouching in front of him. “Does it hurt? Does it sting? Knowing she’s out there, living her life, while you’re stuck here… forgotten… abandoned…”

Jason’s silence only seemed to fuel the Joker’s sadistic glee.

“You know, I bet she doesn’t even think about you anymore,” the clown continued, his voice turning cruel. “She probably doesn’t even remember your name.”

“Shut up,” Jason growled, his voice trembling.

The Joker’s grin widened. “Oh, struck a nerve, did I? What’s the matter, kid? Can’t handle the truth?”

“SHUT UP!” Jason screamed, his voice raw.

Joker’s laughter filled the room, loud and maniacal, echoing off the walls.

“Oh, this is too good! You’re just so much fun to play with, bird boy!” He stood, pacing around Jason’s chair. “You know, I should thank you. Breaking you has been the highlight of my days.”

Jason clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wouldn’t break. He couldn’t.

But then Joker leaned in close, his breath hot against Jason’s ear.

“You know what the best part is?” he whispered. “She doesn’t care. She never did.”

Jason’s resolve shattered.

Joker saw it—the moment the fight left Jason’s eyes—and his grin turned triumphant.

“That’s it, bird boy,” he said softly, almost lovingly. “Just let go. Stop fighting. It’s easier that way, isn’t it?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Joker straightened, his grin returning. “Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts, birdie. But don’t worry—I’ll be back. And who knows? Maybe I’ll bring another little picture next time. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Jason didn’t watch him leave. He stared at the floor, the photograph still burned into his mind.

She was smiling.

She was happy.

And he was nothing.

Jason barely registered the blows anymore. His entire body was a mess of torn skin, bruises, and agony so deep it numbed him to everything but Joker's voice. The laughter. Always the laughter. It echoed in his skull, filling every empty space where his own strength used to be.

By now, Jason had stopped flinching. When Joker’s boot slammed into his ribs again, he just let his head hang forward, blood dripping from his mouth onto the filthy floor.

“Oh, come on now, kid!” Joker taunted, squatting down to meet his eyes. He tilted his head in mock pity, his crimson smile as wide as ever. “Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing to say. Not even a little squeak? No ‘stop it’ or ‘please, sir’? You’re usually such a polite little punching bag.”

Jason forced himself to lift his head, just barely, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Please… sir,” he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Joker’s grin split wider. “That’s the spirit! I knew you had some manners left in you.” He stood, pacing in lazy circles around the boy. “Now, I’ve got some questions for you, birdie. You’re gonna answer them, right? Be a good little boy for Uncle J?”

“Yes, sir,” Jason rasped, his voice trembling.

Joker clapped his hands together like a delighted child. “Oh, how precious! Alright, let’s get started, shall we?” He leaned against the wall, casually spinning a crowbar in his hand. “Tell me, Jaybird… what did you see in her?”

Jason blinked slowly, trying to process the question. His mind was a foggy haze, but when he thought of her—her smile, her laugh—it cut through the pain. His lips trembled. “She… she was everything,” he whispered.

Joker cackled, the sound sharp and cruel. “Everything! Oh, that’s rich! And what exactly does ‘everything’ mean, hmm? Did you think she loved you? That she cared about you?”

Jason’s throat tightened. He wanted to lie, to deny it, but he couldn’t. His voice was barely audible. “Yes, sir. I thought she did.”

Joker laughed harder, clutching his sides. “Oh, you poor, delusional boy! And what about you? What did you want with her? Hmm? Did you have plans, birdie? Little fantasies about your future together?”

Jason swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the floor. The words came slowly, haltingly, dragged out of him like a confession. “I wanted… I wanted a family.”

Joker froze mid-laugh, his grin twisting into something darker. He stepped closer, crouching in front of Jason. “A family?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery.

Jason nodded weakly. “Yes, sir. I… I thought we could have a life together. Away from all this.” His voice cracked, tears streaming down his battered face. “I wanted… to marry her. Have kids. Be happy.”

Joker stared at him for a long moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. “Oh, my God! You really are pathetic, aren’t you? A little boy playing house, dreaming of a white picket fence while Daddy Bats fights crime.”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

“And what about now, hmm?” Joker pressed, his grin predatory. “Do you still want that? After what she did?”

Jason’s head dipped lower, his tears falling freely now. “I don’t know, sir.”

The Joker’s smile faded slightly, replaced by something colder. He grabbed Jason by the hair, yanking his head up to force him to meet his eyes. “Oh, don’t go all quiet on me now, kid. You wanted her, didn’t you? You loved her. You would’ve done anything for her. So tell me…” His grin widened again, sharp and cruel. “Do you still love her?”

Jason’s lip trembled, blood mixing with tears as he whispered, “Yes, sir.”

Joker’s laughter exploded again, filling the room with its twisted echo. He shoved Jason’s head back, sending it slamming into the chair. “You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

Jason didn’t respond. He just sat there, broken and defeated, Joker’s laughter ringing in his ears.

“That’s enough for now,” Joker said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “But don’t worry, bird boy. We’ve got plenty of time to dive deeper into that broken little heart of yours.”

And as Joker walked away, Jason let his head hang again, wishing he could disappear.

Jason didn’t look up when Joker came back. He didn’t have the strength. His body was a wreck, each breath a struggle, each movement a new kind of pain. His mind… it was something else entirely. Foggy, frayed at the edges, and slipping into places he couldn’t pull it back from. It didn’t make sense anymore—none of it did.

The world was nothing but pain now. Pain and laughter. The Joker’s laughter, high-pitched and endless, reverberating through Jason’s broken skull.

"Alright, bird boy!" Joker’s voice rang out, sing-song and sharp, dragging Jason back to the surface of his nightmare. “Let’s play a game, shall we? I call it Truth… or Pain.”

Jason didn’t react. His body slumped in the chair, his head lolled forward. He could barely lift his eyes to meet the clown’s, blood and tears crusted to his face like a second skin.

Joker crouched in front of him, leaning close, so close Jason could smell the rancid stench of greasepaint and sweat. “Here’s how it works, kiddo,” he said, his voice mockingly gentle. “I ask you a question. You tell me the truth, or…” He smacked the crowbar into his palm with a wet thud, grinning wide. “You get the idea, don’tcha?”

Jason didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

The Joker’s smile twisted, his patience as thin as the thread Jason was clinging to. He grabbed a fistful of Jason’s hair, yanking his head up. “Nod if you understand, birdie.”

Jason nodded weakly, his neck too stiff and weak to do more than a faint dip.

“That’s my boy!” Joker chirped, releasing him and stepping back. He twirled the crowbar lazily, watching Jason with an almost fatherly gaze. “Now, first question.” He leaned forward, his grin sharpening. “What’s your name, hmm?”

Jason blinked slowly, his brain struggling to process the words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

CRACK.

The crowbar slammed into his ribs, a sickening snap reverberating through the room. Jason choked on a scream, his body convulsing against the restraints.

“Wrong answer!” Joker sang, his voice bright and cheerful. “Let’s try again, hmm? Who’s Batman’s favorite? Which one of you brats he loves more?”

Jason wheezed, blood dripping from his lips as he forced himself to speak. “D… Dick…”

The Joker tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh, really? Are you sure?”

Jason’s throat worked, but the words wouldn’t come.

CRACK.

The crowbar struck again, this time across his knee. Jason screamed, the sound raw and broken, echoing in the dark room.

“Ooh, wrong answer!” Joker said cheerfully. “See, the correct answer is none of you! You’re all just little tools in his utility belt. Didn’t you know that?”

Jason didn’t reply.

“C’mon, birdie! You’re not even trying!” Joker taunted, twirling the crowbar again. “Alright, let’s make this interesting. What’s your biggest fear, hmm? What keeps you up at night, even in this lovely little hell of ours?”

Jason’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps. His vision blurred, but the question cut through the fog. His biggest fear…

The words spilled from him, trembling and desperate, like a confession to a god who wouldn’t listen. “I’m… afraid…” His voice cracked, barely audible. “I’m afraid of forgetting her…”

Joker froze, his grin faltering for just a moment.

Jason didn’t notice. He couldn’t stop now, the words pouring out like blood from a wound. “Please… don’t make me forget Y/N…” His voice broke, tears streaming down his battered face. “It’s only her… only her and me… in this whole world…”

The Joker tilted his head, his grin returning, slower this time. “Oh, kiddo…” he murmured, his tone almost tender.

Jason’s voice cracked again, his words dissolving into sobs. “Just… give me that. Please… please… don’t take her from me… Don’t make me forget her… please…”

Joker stepped closer, crouching again to meet Jason’s tear-streaked gaze. He cupped Jason’s bloodied chin, forcing him to look up.

“Oh, sweet, sweet birdie,” he cooed, his voice soft and mocking. “Don’t you know? She’s already forgotten you.”

Jason’s breath hitched, his chest heaving as the words tore through him like shards of glass.

“She’s out there, laughing, living, loving… while you’re here, rotting away.” Joker’s grin widened, his voice dripping with venom. “And when you’re gone, birdie, no one will even remember you. Not her. Not Batman. No one.”

Jason’s head dropped, his sobs choking him as the Joker’s laughter filled the room once more.

“Truth or Pain, birdie?” Joker asked, raising the crowbar again. “Oops! Looks like it’s both!”

And the blows rained down again, each one erasing a little more of Jason, until all that was left was a broken, empty husk whispering one name into the darkness.

“Y/N…”

Next: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason knows he’s not made out of porcelain, he was made out of anything but such fragility, something that he had always remained you of.

Yet he couldn’t help but feel as though he might be with how you take his hand in yours, gently caressing his calloused palms, his fingers and the scars that littered his knuckles from all the fights he’s gotten into.

He couldn’t help but think he’s somewhat made of porcelain when you hold his face as though inspecting a work of art, holding him in such a way he wasn’t certain either he could feel your touch or his mind was fucking with him. You trace his cheeks with feather light and curiosity touches as you trailed your fingers across them, across his bottom lip and down towards his jaw before racking back up to trail a finger down the slope of his nose and the faded scars close to his eyebrows.

You touched him as though he was porcelain, despite being told multiple times he wasn’t, he was far from porcelain but you touched and held him as though he’d break under pressure.

You touched his as though you were holding something whole and not something so damaged and so fucking broken beyond repair that many considered him a lost cause, an angry soul that use to beam so bright. You smiled and loved him and all Jason could think was this;

‘why me? Why do I get someone as good as them? Would they still love me if they knew all the things I’ve done? The people I’ve killed and the blood that stains my hands? Would they’d still love me all the same and hold me like this even if I become the monster many think I already am?’

You knew he wasn’t porcelain and you yet your touch, the affection within your eyes as you look upon him, your sweet kisses that you scatter across his scars after asking if he would be okay with it, everything you did made him feel as though he was made of porcelain because he actually was; Jason Todd was made of porcelain and his cracks and broken parts were put together and concealed in pure gold, it didn’t hide the fact that he been through so much but he looked beautiful and dare you say better then he’s ever looked before.

Jason Todd once believed he wasn’t made of porcelain, but with you he found that he was in fact made of porcelain, the most fragile variation possible but you loved and held him close to your chest as you poured your love into his cracks and broken parts; bringing him back together with the power of your voice as you spoke sweet and honeyed words to him about his beauty. You could see just how beautiful the man before you was, it was impossible for you not to see him as a beautiful man with a heart as pure as gold, and you’ll gladly show him this over and over again if you must.

Jason Todd was made of porcelain and he was content with that, just as long as it was your arms he went home to, your voice he fell asleep to and your heart that he listened to as he is reminded that you are alive and he is very much loved by you. Jason Todd knew was made of our porcelain the moment you whispered ‘I love you and I will fall in love with you again.’ Against his lips.

[frostbitten-writer]

Bathtub nights

Pairing: Ekko x gn!Firefly!reader

Tags: established relationship; no description of R; nakedness??? I don’t know how to name it, but no smut or suggestiveness; FLUFF

A/n: just a simple, cute one-shot that I thought about while daydreaming, so yeah, enjoy ����🏻

The rustling sound of leaves and the creaking of wood were the only things that could be heard in the slow night. The hideout was full and peaceful, the little ones kind of helping with the feeling of pure chaos. You were usually stuck with them during the day, but not that you were complaining, it’s just the fact that you saw Ekko even less. He was always so stiff and serious, never eating or caring for himself. The wrinkles and lines on his forehead were giving him a few more years than he had, making his young face look older. So that’s why you’re here, balancing the tray with his favourite dish in your hands while walking up the steps to his workshop, which, unfortunately for you, was at the top of the tree. 

The wooden door creaked open and you slipped your head into the room, only to see an even more slumped version of Ekko sitting at his desk. To the sound of your steps, he turned around, and you could see his stiff face softening ever so lightly from your presence. The workplace was untidy and yet cozy, just like Ekko. The whole atmosphere was just screaming him. The room was illuminated by a small, warm lamp that made Ekkos eyes seem even warmer, the little specks of gold shining so bright, you almost felt your body melt. 

Carefully setting the plate of food and bread down in the mess of his desk, you sat on his lap and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck while looking down at him with a tender smile.

“Hey..” He rasped out, voice groggy from several hours of silence, his callused and dirty from metal hands snaking up to your hips.

“Hi, tree boy, already studied everything about trees and their existence, or is there something more?” You joked, lips forming into a lazy grin, one hand coming up to one of his dreadlocks.

“Not yet, but I’m close to it..” He smiled, clearing his throat a bit before giggling quietly to you tickling him with his hair. 

He looked at your face with a certain softness that only he could give to you, the expression of love no one else got to see. If you stared a bit longer into his eyes, you could promise you saw his pupils forming into hearts. 

“What’s that that you brought..?” He mumbled, peeking at the plate with a mysterious meal.

“A bit of food, your favourite.. hazelnut soup~” You hooked his chin between your fingers, tugging his head back straight to face you, his big doe eyes looking at you with interest. 

“Really..? You’re so good to me.. how did I get with you..” He mumbled and rested his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes drooping closed. 

“Well, I have to feed you with something if you don’t eat yourself..” You teased, your hands sliding to his shoulders, kneading the lumps and muscles.

He whined a bit at the sensation, head lolling to the side.

“I just- I didn’t have time to do so.. I feel like time’s running away from my grasp..” He whispered sincerely, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“It’s okay, you just need some rest.. how about we take a warm bubble bath?” You suggested, doing your best to persuade him.

“You just want a reason to get me out of clothes..” He mumbled, his voice still tired but playful.

“Maybe~” You giggled quietly, jumping out of his grasp and then taking hold of his wrist. “Let’s go, space boy!” 

He only chuckled, the steamy soup long forgotten while you two ran down the spiral steps. 

Many Firelights stopped in their tracks at the sound of something or someone running down the stairs like a madman, their surprised expression growing back to neutral as they saw you two giggling and laughing. They all knew the effect you had on Ekko, they saw it by the way he would smile. Not the smirk he’d do when a plan worked, but a genuine one, an ecstatic grin.

When you reached your shared apartment, you slipped into the room, going straight to the bathroom, hands still clasped together. 

The steam was rising smoothly from the tub, the mirror already fully fogged, making the room humid and warm. He was about to ask how you managed to get it full, if you had already thought about it before asking him at the workshop, but he quickly shut himself up to the smell of the new oil or soap you borrowed.

“I found a new lavender and vanilla oil at the topside, smells amazing, right~?” You purred out with a grin, his expression confused and yet happy.

“Of course you did, found it.” He rolled his eyes affectionately, tugging at the hem of his shirt and pulling it off.

 

-

 

You both were now settled down in the bathtub, foam and bubbles flying around in the mist. He held you against his bare chest, your back rubbing against his skin, his long legs enveloping you from both of your sides. His dreadlocks were wet, his muscles finally getting their rest.

“Now that's a way to end the day, right..?” He whispered and pressed some lazy pecks to your shoulder. You only hummed in response, shifting sideways to face him, your damp hand wiping his face paint off.

“You always do that..” He giggled quietly, closing his eyes affectionately to let you get to his nose and forehead.

“And you love it..” You watched the drops of white colour roll down his cheeks. The smile on your face grew intimate, the chaos temporarily fading away.

“I do..” He whispered back, kissing the inside of your palm before tackling you and pressing gentle and chaste pecks all over your face…

[onlygarden]

[not so fast...] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: just as you're about to head out to grab a few things from the store, jungwon decides he wants you to stay. established relationship, dom jungwon, rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling/yanking, spitting in mouth, slapping, jungwon grips reader hard enough to bruise and draw blood, jungwon cums all over reader, oral sex (male receiving), cumeating, facefucking, degradation (whore, bitch, etc.), bit of power play.

a/n: it's a few days after christmas, but i'm wishing the merriest of christmases and the happiest of new years to everyone : ) it's been a little while since i posted a fic but i've been aching to write this for about a week. this might be the nastiest fic i've ever written but this is the result of jungwon. the inspiration smacked me in the face out of nowhere while i was watching a jungwon edit. jungwon PLEASE LET ME HIT

the muted padding of your feet against the carpeted stairs compelled jungwon’s curiosity, along with his undivided attention. a gentle “where are you going, baby,” sailed gracefully to your ears, and a small smile stretched it’s way across your face. 

“just.. headed to the store,” you said casually, as you lept slightly from the last step. your body drifted closer to his, your arms reaching out to wrap snugly around his torso. it was almost instinctual, but you were far too aware of the way you constantly longed for his warmth for any of your actions to be brushed off as involuntary. 

his hands slowly roam your back as you hug him, their path descending to lower territory, and quickly ending their journey as they rest a taunting distance from your rear. 

“the store?” he echoes, his voice a faint, leisurely murmur against your ear. “but i was just thinking about you, baby…” he starts, his fingers tensing a bit against the small of your back. 

“...and… mmmh, you always smell so good, i just wanna…” as the words tumble from his smooth lips, his hands slither down to the flesh of your ass, his fingers digging in with unbridled greed. 

a breath escapes your lips, your inclination to shop suddenly fading, the items on your shopping list suddenly becoming less of an urgent need. 

“won, i need to…” you start, but the harsh squeeze of his hands as they sink into your plush behind, and the way his body began to show you just how hard of a time he was having quickly began to usher any rational thoughts from your mind. 

he leans closer to your face as your weak, unconvincing plea rings throughout the air, and his lips brush against yours with every syllable that his mouth forms. 

“need to what, baby? hm?” his hands leave your ass with reluctance, caressing the curved lines of your waist as his fingers tense with the pressure of reining himself in. 

he continues, his words just as tormenting as his actions, slowly replacing everything you thought you ‘needed’ to do with an insistent desire that mirrored his own. 

“wouldn’t you rather just let me…” your arms now drape delicately around his neck as his hands land upon the waistband of your sweatpants, and his fingers begin to dip beneath the material, tracing along the lace of your thong. 

“do what i want?” his lips now glide along your jaw, igniting each inch of skin with a heat that only his lips could bring, though he still wasn’t kissing you. 

“god… please, won,” the words jumped from your throat in a breathless sigh before you could even think about denying him. 

a soft chuckle floats from jungwon’s lips, causing more heat to burst in your stomach, and the thin material of your thong struggles to accommodate the arousal gushing so plentifully out of you. 

jungwon lifts your body with haste, allowing your legs to wrap around him before ascending the stairs impatiently. in this moment, they were nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle further delaying him from drenching his cock with your sweet warmth. 

he tosses your body onto the bed, watching as you bounce slightly, completely helpless upon impact. your helplessness only serves to provoke his ache to devour you even further.

he lays down on the bed, resting his head against the pillow, his eyes refusing to leave your form– the way the breath escaped from your plump, parted lips as you regained your bearings, the way your chest heaved slightly and your tank top dipped low enough to provide him with a glimpse of your breasts, the way you looked at him as you patiently waited for a command from him. you were so delicate, so flustered, so pliant, and every bit of you belonged to him. all his, just his to use, to take, to ravage. 

“wanna make you choke, come here,” he announced casually, as though the words themselves didn’t weaken every fiber of your body. 

he pushes his pants down as you approach him, and you finish pulling them down the course of his legs as his boxers follow in tandem. 

god, you could never grow tired of worshipping his cock. jungwon is fucking hung. so hung, you can barely stop yourself from calling him ‘hungwon’ whenever you refer to him. he leaked with the evidence of his desperation, fully sprung from his pure adoration for you. 

you spit onto his length, stroking him, lathering him with it, spreading such generous lubrication over every inch of him. as you open your mouth and lower your head onto him, jungwon’s fingers lace into your hair, snatching any false sense of control away from you. he was entirely heedless of any sputters that escaped you as he pushed your head down, forcing his length to the back of your throat. 

a breathy grunt tumbles past his lips as he holds your head in place, thrusting upwards at a leisurely pace, thoroughly enjoying the way your saliva sloshed and flowed around his length, surrounding him, engulfing him with deliciously moist heat. 

“fuck, such a good fucking girl… mmm… just like that baby, yea…” he cooed, his head tilting back and his eyebrows drawing together as the pleasure began to overwhelm him.

the sweet praises which left his lips stood in such bitter contrast to the way he tortured your throat, tears sliding down the bridge of your nose as short, desperate breaths escaped your nostrils. 

with no urgency, he lifts your head from his length, tugging on your hair to encourage you to crawl up his body. as you reach his lips, he forces your face towards his, his fingers remaining stubbornly laced in your hair. his velvety lips meld against yours, and his tongue quickly shoves past your lips to tangle with your own. 

you feel his weight pressing you into the mattress, along with his shoulders caging you in, as he rolls on top of you, his cock prodding so demandingly against your lower abdomen. 

he draws his lips from yours with difficulty, leaving a final, chaste kiss against your lips before his lips meet your neck, leaving an urgent trail of kisses along your heated skin. 

“you’re so beautiful, baby… so damn pretty…” the words hardly leave his lips before he’s yanking your tank top from your body, each piece of your clothing leaving your body with such haste, you barely register the sensations of the material against your skin. 

“open your legs,” he demands, and you oblige, without a single thought.

jungwon swiftly discards his shirt, before his hands latch themselves onto the pillowy flesh of your thighs, his nails leaving imprints from the force of his grip. 

“fuck, look at you…” he whispers, marveling the sight of your glossy arousal spilling onto the sheets beneath you.

a low moan dances to your ears as he plunges himself inside of you, reaching unimaginable depths, punishing you with the speed and pressure of his thrusts as soon as he enters. his eyes flutter as he relishes the sensation of your silky slick swallowing and sucking his cock in. 

“oh, fuuuck, i love this pussy… you’re so fucking good at taking my cock baby, the only thing you’re good for…” he mutters drunkenly, his hand coming up to land a gentle slap across your face as the volume of your moans blares throughout the room. the smack arose from the desire to punish you, unable to control the aggression coursing through his body over how fucking good you were. 

your mouth hangs open, slack and pitiful, a series of whines and moans falling from your lips. tears spring helplessly to your eyes, playing along the edge of your eyelashes, and jungwon’s hands bury themselves within the flesh of your thighs, the pressure promising bruises to your skin. 

jungwon’s hand clamps onto your jaw harshly, forcing your eyes to meet his gaze. his eyebrows were furrowed, aggression, ecstasy, and effort all working together to create his expression. 

“who do you belong to? who’s fucking you dumb, huh?” he demands, his voice low and gruff as the sensation of your pussy surrounds him. 

you answer him, a pathetic “you, won!” leaving your lips, laced in with your moans. 

“that’s right, baby… good girl…my good little whore…” 

his hand clamps harder, squeezing against your cheeks as he instructs you to “open your mouth, baby.”

his spit falls into your open mouth, sliding down your tongue and mingling with your own, before you eagerly every warm drop. jungwon moans lowly as your mouth widens in anticipation for more.

“more? god, you’re such a whore. you’re so fucked up…” with a low hum, jungwon gathers a larger amount of saliva onto his tongue, spitting into your open mouth for the second time. his spit slides down your throat even more deliciously than the first time.

his relentless pounding continues, his long cock stretching you, abusing you, driving himself into you with such violent ferocity that it’s hard to believe he thinks your pussy is precious. mutters of “fucking bitch… nasty fucking bitch” tickle your ear as jungwon hurtles further into a haze of pleasure he’d never even dreamed of before meeting you. 

“mmm… baby, you don’t have a choice, do you? you just let me do whatever i want to you, huh?” in an almost taunting jeer, he grasps onto your breast with a firm hand, squeezing until he earns himself a whimper from you. he solidifies his ownership as he jiggles your flesh around, before returning to his bruising grip on your thigh. 

the velvety, slippery, warm confines of your pussy began to control his every action, his thrusts quickened to a euphoric speed, his erratic movements coupled with desperate breaths leaving his lips. 

your tears stream pathetically down your face, the pleasure coursing through your body only intensifying as jungwon’s desperation and aggression became more evident in each of his movements and noises. 

“too much! can’t, won…” you cry in a puddle of pleasure, every fiber of your body working quickly to prepare for your approaching orgasm, jungwon’s thumb working your clit in quick circles, sending you into a spiral of pure ecstasy that you could never be equipped for.

“too much? but you’re gonna cum all over me, aren’t you baby?” he mocks, his ingenuine coos and his comforting tone only serving to tease you as he continues to tear through you relentlessly. 

your moans grow stuttered, your volume escalating as your pleasure escalates, your delirious moans of his name leaving your lips impulsively, almost as though he was snatching it from you. you cum on his cock, your trembling legs evolving into writhes of your entire body, jungwon punishing your senses with pure bliss as he pummels you through your orgasm, still shoving his way into you at an unfaltering rhythm. 

fuck, you’re gorgeous, he thinks. it’s the most beautifully breathtaking sight his eyes were ever graced with in this life, certainly a sight he’ll never grow weary of. the sight of you, floating in the peak of a pleasure only he can ever bestow onto you. 

if he wasn’t close before, he’s close beyond question, now. as he races closer to his high, he lets out a series of low moans near your ear, quickly rambling, “oh, fuuuck, my dumb little whore…” in such depraved measure. he's not sure how he ever manages to hold out this long with you.

he swiftly withdraws himself from your divine pussy, stroking his cock for a brief duration before spilling his lavish cum over your body abundantly, his low moans now entwined with a more gravelly tone, his other hand drawing blood against your thigh as his nails embed themselves into your skin. a soft, feeble whimper falls from your lips at the sensation. 

he reaches over to the bedside table, retrieving his phone, before snapping a photo of your vulnerable, beautifully cum-drenched form. with two fingers, he greedily scoops his cum from your body, shoveling each bit into your eager mouth. he feeds you until you’re sucking hungrily on his fingers, yearning for just a bit more. 

“that’s all, baby,” he breathes out, chuckling softly before climbing off of the bed to retrieve a warm towel for you. 

jungwon returns, gently running the wet towel over your delicate, battered body, sure to soak up the blood he pulled from your skin in his pleasured haze. 

he brings the soft cover over your body in a tranquil manner as he lay beside you, dragging your drained body close to his, a whisper of “you did well” caressing your ear. you always do so well, no matter the severity of his treatment, he thinks. 

“still need to go shopping, baby?” he teases, another soft chuckle vibrating in his chest as he feels you land a weak slap there, and he pats your bottom with a tender slap in retaliation.

[fangel]

always, attic angel — jake [ 심재윤 ]

synopsis : jake’s hidden secret isn’t so secret anymore, but he’ll go to great lengths to keep it. he reaches his breaking point when faced with betrayal. he relinquishes any remaining sense of sanctity, surrendering to everything he's spent his life trying to suppress. ⇀ read part 1 here ⸝⸝ updated playlist

pairing : jake sim x fem. reader featuring : heeseung genre : psychological thriller, smut, yandere word count : 7.7k content advisory : dark content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content, obsessive!jake, possessive!jake, jake in general, corrupt!reader, choking, dubcon, somnophilia, spanking, unprotected sex, stockholm syndrome, religious themes and concepts, violence, blood, mentions of homicide/death, open ending - mostly proofread

“can you keep a secret?”

jake wasn’t only asking heeseung the literal question, but he was questioning himself. how long could he realistically hide you away? were you, his sacred secret, something that he could actually keep? he’s thought about it a lot. often losing hours in a day just going over the agonizing idea of not.

heeseung at a loss for words, just watches jake’s body language. jake is like nothing he’s ever seen before. jay and sunghoon have brought up jake’s odd behavior with concern, but he always brushed it off. now heeseung is here to witness it himself, stunned with his brows furrowed and a mouth opening and closing, looking for words he can’t find. he looks back up to the top of staircase, the room that he knows is occupied with someone. hundreds of questions flood his mind but he doesn’t know where to begin. 

“jake,” he says quietly, eyes darting from the door up the stairs and to the boys huddled in the living room. “what did you do? who is here?” even if jake did have a girlfriend, or just someone he’s been seeing, why would he need to act this way? with the way the air feels around them, heeseung is sure that there’s much more going on. and whatever it could be, was far from good. 

jake still can’t look at heeseung. he just stares to the floor with a death grip on heeseung. his breathing picks up in slow, deep heaves. he holds onto his hyung like a lifeline. heeseung feels genuine dread. the chill he feels run through his body makes every hair stand up. he wants to pull away from jake, to go investigate before the others get nosy or cause a scene. but he can’t. his instincts are telling him that if he moves too quickly that jake will break.  

“jake… if i go up there—” he begins to say slowly, quietly. and that’s when jake looks up at heeseung. his eyes look wild, almost like they’re threatening him. heeseung swallows hard, sensing that maybe he is silently threatening him. 

heeseung tries to step back but jake only digs his nails into the flesh of heeseung’s arm. he hisses at the sting and attempts to tug his arm away from the hold. jake’s strength is something heeseung never knew he had; he thinks that jake might just fucking break his arm at the elbow right here and now. 

through clenched teeth, jake seethes under his breath, “i’ll explain, but get them all out of my house first. and i swear to god if you tell another soul you’ll be buried out back too.” 

what the fuck, is all heeseung can think. his eyes wide from the venomous threat. he complies with jake out of fear. these were treacherous waters and he wasn’t going to test it out by diving in. especially with the tension growing too thick and too fast for heeseung to waste any time. 

jake follows heeseung to the living, standing behind him, watching and listening. he doesn’t say a word as his older friend handles the situation. he just shifts on his feet while staring into the back of heeseung’s head.

heeseung stumbles over his words, nervously attempting a lie to get the rest of the boys to leave. the words catching in his throat that he masks with a cough whenever one of them makes a questioning expression. 

although disoriented and perturbed, they all listen to heeseung. heeseung being obviously troubled with something serious made them gather their things with haste. they were rushing out to the car in minutes with no questions asked. there were many to be had, but they assumed they would find out eventually. 

jake and heeseung watch as they drive away, from the front door. neither of them say a word even when the vehicle is out of sight. the taillights fading into the snowscape treeline of gravel road is all to be heard and seen. 

there’s a pregnant pause before jake closes the door and locks it, all 5 different locks. heeseung raises a brow, stepping back slowly. his eyes watching as jake stuffs the ring of keys into his front hoodie pocket. he makes note of it. 

jake, still yet to utter a word, just walks into the living room area to clean up the leftover mess. heeseung, unsure of what to do, just helps in stillness. the tv remains a static screen displaying no signal: (1) check the cable connections and settings of your source device. the kitchen oven light flickers every so often. and the darkness of the night bleeds into the house. it’s eerily quiet between them. 

after some time, there’s a slow creak of a door to be heard. both of the boys heads shoot upward and down the hallway. layla trots away from them and sits at the end of staircase. her head tilted, ears raised, and mouth open in what would be interpreted as a smile. 

slow footsteps make their way down. the space between each creaking step of the wooden floorboards shows how apprehensive and timorous you are. once halfway down, there’s a pause. you’re standing there, waiting for a noise or response from jake. you saw the group of his friends leave, but there was still another car parked outside. and after waiting for so long, listening to silence, you had to see why jake hadn’t come up to see you, to tell you it’s safe to come out. 

jake stands from his crouched position, dropping the wet wipe he was just using to clean the low coffee table. he throws off his jacket to the edge of the couch. there’s a clink of the cluttered keys, but only heeseung hears it. jake’s already in tunnel vision. he gives heeseung a daring glare before walking away to meet you halfway. heeseung sits down on the couch, his hands folded over his lap while his leg picks up an anxious bounce. he looks at the pocket of the abandoned material. a glimmer of metals peak through the opening. 

jake walks up the stairs that you stand in the middle of, layla hot on his trail. he gives you a small smile as he places his hands on your shoulders to turn your body back around. “i didn’t tell you when to come out, did i?” he whispers with small anger, trying to keep his tone light but what’s deeper surfaces regardless. 

you very rarely made jake angry. a feeling of disappointment envelops you like instinct. as if you had to feel bad for going against him. 

“i’m sorry i made a noise,” you mumble, “i got excited when i heard them mention me.” it’s an honest admission. you turn your head back to jake and your guilt drops to something empty. the color fades from your face when you see him. he looks disgusted. “i-i’m sorry, i-” your mouth open and mind trying to find the right thing so say. 

he grabs the back of your neck and begins to walk forward, forcing your body back up to the bedroom. you stumble over your feet, nearly falling. his footsteps stomp against the wooden stairs. his hold on you is squeezing with fingers pressing into the sides of your throat. you want to cough away the feeling but decide on struggling to remain quiet instead. someone is still here. i promised to behave. 

when back in the room, he shoves you forward with the release of his grip. the door slams behind him. you lose balance but catch your own feet, your ankle shooting in a great affliction that you’ve become accustomed to ignore. your hands reach for your throat to massage the ache. you whimper at the touch. 

“it was a perilous decision, making you my attic angel.” his heavy footsteps march forward. he picks you up from under your arms and tosses you onto the bed. you bounce slightly before gathering yourself. you push yourself back into the corner of the bed, hugging your knees to tuck into your body, like you’re protecting yourself. you watch as he places his knee onto the bed, his hands too, leaning towards you. “i am trying so hard, so why isn’t it enough?” his head shakes in disbelief. “i’m just not enough for you? you want everyone to see you, to know you. why? as if they would need or love you as much as i do.” the last sentence is a scoff, spat with hate. he just stares at you with a tilt to his head. you feel that he’s mocking you in some way with his ridiculous words. 

tears brim your eyes, your hands forming small fists that tremble in a rage you’ve always felt within you. “i never asked you to.” your words are firm, a tight lip frown wears your face. you want to argue that this isn’t love and he’s just a sick man, but you don’t want to spill more tears over him. you’ve been drained enough.

jake’s face flashes with an array of emotions. his fingers curl into the blankets so tight his knuckles turn white. he looks irated and dejected, but mostly broken.

“you didn’t have to.” his face is a scowl, glaring at you for the first time. how could his attitude change so quickly? “you wanted me, and now you have me. let it be enough.” he pushes himself off the bed and picks up the metal cuff chain from the floor with one hand. you instantly try to scramble up off the bed but he’s faster; he takes your bruised, weakened ankle in his free hand to drag you into him. you yelp with agony, trying to kick your leg around in a struggle that would hopefully prevent the entrapment. but he secures it onto you with a low growl, warning you that your actions have been enough. 

with a burning gaze, he pushes you back down onto the bed before making strides to the door. he’s never been so blatantly mean towards you. it hurts far more than you could’ve ever expected. you slide yourself off the bed with urgency, tripping up behind him. you want to cry so badly, but you also want to show you’re stronger than he allows you to be. your hands reach for him to grab at the back of his shirt, a try of pulling him back from the door. “take it off! take it off now!” you stomp your metal clad foot, the chain rattles against the floor. 

layla begins to bark loudly from the other side of the door. her paws scratch at the closed white wood. 

jake spins around with your raised voice and slaps his hand over your mouth, “shut the fuck up!” he whispers with heated aggression. his other hand grabbing the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair and craning your neck back to look at him. crazed eyes stare into yours like they want to rip you apart. you can no longer help it now, tears escape and wash down to meet his hand. your entire body is now shaking in fear. “angel, i thought i taught you better than this… haven’t you made yourself known enough tonight?” he softens in tone, but his expression and hands don’t match. they’re strong, keeping you still. 

you shake your head frantically under his hold. his large hand taking up half your face, making it hard to breathe. your mouth and nose only taking in larger breaths of air that just isn’t sufficient. fat tears run down your face as you continue to shout muffled pleas into his palm. 

“take it off!” 

“let me go!” 

“stop, stop!” 

“help me!” it’s a deadened attempt of a shrill scream.

it’s all lost against his skin. you try to slap his hand and arms off of you but it’s to no avail. you’re simply too feeble to put up the fight you want to. you’ll always be overpowered by man. 

his hold doesn’t let up. he just watches you struggle in blazing silence. your lungs losing oxygen make you see bright white stars scatter your vision. the burning tears only make it all the more hazy. your body feels weak, like it’s about to collapse in on itself. is this what it’s like to lose consciousness? weird, it feels kind of good. you use all your strength to keep your eyes open, but they blink slowly to a close. 

“please.” is the final beg to be said against his palm.

“i love you.” is the final words he promises before it all goes black. 

　 　　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

 　when jake finally comes downstairs, he looks like he’s seen a ghost. 

heeseung—who was in the kitchen—heard jake’s descent with the settling creaks of the house’s floors, returns to the couch. he nervously watches jake, who was yet to look over at him, as he stuffs something back into the hoodie that jake left behind before going up to that room. 

jake just stands at the bottom of the staircase with a dead stare, eyes unblinking and unfocused. he looks pale, stuck in a state that heeseung is not ready to approach or question. heeseung heard nearly everything from upstairs. it was jarring, and enough evidence to understand that the house is dangerous for everyone in it. 

to think that he’s been here before without a clue of what was happening behind closed doors makes his skin crawl. he never could have imagined that his own friend, or himself, would get wrapped up in a scenario like this. was it all merely a matter of time? 

heeseung slowly stands up. due to the silence, even the slight sound of movement has jake’s heard turn in a split second to his friend's direction. 

unknowing of what to do, heeseung just stays still like a deer in headlights. frightful in nature as if he was the one to be caught in the wrong place. he’s frozen under the cold, black eyes that bore into him. 

jake stalks over to heeseung slowly. the unbreaking eye contact and lack of words sends chills through the older male. the kitchen oven light hums in the background, and it’s all to be heard. jake places himself on the other couch in the living room. the light flickers off and on again when heeseung follows jake’s actions, sitting once more. 

“i’ve never hurt her before,” his tone hostile, as if to defend himself from whatever he was imagining that heeseung was thinking, “not physically at least, i don’t think.” 

heeseung feels a cold sweat take over. his palms sweaty, squeezing his own thighs for a sense of stability. this can’t be real. he couldn’t process any of this. how could this be what jake is? he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and gnaws with anxiety. eyes trained on the intense presence before him. 

jake speaks up again, his voice breaking like he’s about to cry, “she looked at me so.. she looked terrified of me, seung. and i made her cry again.” jake has his elbows resting on his knees, his head hung low with hands fisted in his hair. he pulls on his dark locks in distress. 

heeseung glances from jake to the front door. then back to jake. and then the staircase. and then the front door again before going back to jake. he feels like his lungs are going to burst, his breathing something he now has to force himself to manually maintain. 

“but fuck, man!” jake hits himself in the head once, twice, three times. his smack echoing through the room, sending shivers of panic through heeseung each time. “i-i can’t think! what the hell am i supposed to do!?” there’s a pause. “i want to be good for her. she’s supposed to help me but i’m getting worse everyday.” his hands drag down over his face, covering it. 

“jake, i don’t know—”, heeseung’s voice didn’t reach. 

“i went to church. i prayed. i couldn’t confess though. i was too cowardly to say what ill thoughts consumed me.” jake looks up to heeseung with tears in his eyes, “too cowardly to admit to what i’ve done. i want to be clean, man. but i am full of greed, lust, and wrath. i can wash my hands over and over, but i still remember the feeling. a damned confession wouldn’t take the weight of that away.” he laughs lowly, shaking his head. a hand lazily wiping his tears from his face. “and i see it every night. the stains that painted me, that should’ve made me feel dirty. it didn’t.” 

heeseung needs to get the fuck of here now. he can’t keep up with jake’s insane behavior or confession. this has gone far beyond his expectations; his flight or fight instincts are screaming that this is unsafe territory. 

“but when i have her, it’s not so bad. i can’t--i can’t have you getting in the way, or anything, anyone else, for that matter.” jake is hanging on by a thread, it’s clear. he was going to snap soon. “do you understand that?”

heeseung nods his head but can’t bring himself to say a word. 

“well say it, damn it! say ‘jake, i won’t get in the way.’” his voice loud, demanding. 

“jake,” he stands on shaking legs, “i won’t get in your way. i w-won’t say a thing. this has nothing to do with me, man.” his hands up in a defending position as he makes brave steps that lead to the front of the house. “you can trust me…” 

“i hope so, or you’ll end up like her parents… somewhere in the back of those woods to feed the maggots.” 

heeseung nods again then darts for the door and out to his car. he wastes no time in getting far away from that nightmare. as he starts the car, he looks up to the window at the highest point of the house. the light is off and there is no face peaking through with hope. heeseung exhales deeply. he recalls the smile jake wore with his leaving statement. closing his eyes, he knows that he is no hero, and certainly won’t be made a victim. 

but, he also isn’t someone to do nothing. so, he’ll leave for now. 

　 　　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

 　jake’s mind is in a whirlwind. he needs to release the weight of everything that’s suffocating him from the inside. he feels as if all his organs have corroded and are crawling up his esophagus, like hundreds of little centipede feet, only to get stuck in his throat. 

he doesn’t even recognize how he got back to the bedroom since heeseung’s escape; unable to realize that some has passed. 

he stands in the middle of room, blinking his eyes back to a state of awareness. he was watching you sleep in the bed he placed you in. or perhaps he was just looking through you. he made you pass out in and from his own hands. he despised himself for it, and how it gave him a sense of god-like power. 

jake moves towards the bed and creeps in next to you. his hands find a place on your hips to pull you on top of him. the subtle movement of your chest and small breaths assure him of your liveness. he hugs you close like that for a minute.

his fingers trail up and down your body, squeezing and caressing his favorite parts of you. they stop at your ass, full in his hands he begins to move your body back and forth. his growing cock pressing up into your pussy, grinding with the maneuver. the back of his throat releases a soft, guttural sound. 

his large hands slip up your night dress and pull your underwear to the side. he runs a finger along your folds, feeling every detail of your womanhood. the callosed tips rub over your core until a layer of wetness leaks through.   

you shift on top of him, not awake, but subconsciously sensing an uncomfortable intrusion. a small noise leaves your lips, something of a whine. 

“i know you’re not all there. you’re too compliant with all i’ve done. you listen too well.” he’s whispering against the side of your face. his free hand working to take off his pants and boxer briefs. “you’re like me.” he licks a strip up your face, wet saliva leaving a trail. you stir again, face scrunching before rubbing onto jake’s shirt. 

he grins at you, thinking you’re cute all out of it and on top of him. his eyes find the teeth marks on your shoulder. the thin spaghetti strap of your dress falling from it, revealing full sight to the scarring mark of his possession. “i can sink my teeth into you and you will do nothing but watch me lick it clean. and you would still let me hold you. kiss you. and,” he’s rubbing his leaking cock against your pussy, humping up into you so the head dips in and out. “fuckkk.” he moans, feeling himself being teased with the enveloping of your creamy, warm hole. 

you make another tired, bothered sound with eyes squeezed shut. 

“possibly i have let you think of me as tender, but i will prove to you i am everything but.” he thrusts his hips upwards, his cock pushing into your tight core. he moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him, hugging him with wet heat. “i’ve always had these tainted thoughts with me. i could never admit to anyone, or myself, what i longed for.” his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close. his legs propped up, knees bent and feet pressed down to the bed, as he begins a brutal pace to pound himself in and out of you. 

your eyes open along with your mouth, a sound in between a moan and gasp leaves your lips. you look up to the man who is fucking you, confused and disoriented. you feel a deep pain between your legs and in the bottom of your stomach. you try to pull yourself back, to sit up, but jake grounds you to his chest. 

“i prayed for all the disturbed thinking to come to an end. my mind became more grotesque, morbid.” he looks at you and all you see is misery. his eyes are so empty yet he forces a smile. “i am haunted like a sick man.” i know, you think. your head rests tucked by his chin and neck. you just watch him, letting your body make little moans and chases to his touch like it’s trained to. “i always wanted more. i didn’t want to just think it, i wanted to do it all.” 

“mhmm.” your eyes blink slowly, watching the faces of pleasure he makes through your eyelashes. maybe this is all a dream, you imagine wishfully. 

“i stopped praying a long time ago, yet kept stepping into god’s house. i knew something, someone, would come for me.” he grunts, squeezing the skin on your back to bruises. his trusts become messy as squelching sounds of your pussy. skin slaps and fragmented noises come from the both of you. “in the bible; tell me, angel, who did god send to fulfill all his obligations?” he nibbles on your ear. sometimes licking and leaving his spit coating it. 

him pistoning his cock at his assaulting speed and force, elicits a loud mewl from you. you wish he would fuck you even harder. violent enough that it rattles your brain and body senseless. you don’t want to think at all, just want to see those stars again. 

jake is pissed when you ignore his question. one of his hands slides up your back while the other moves down to slap your ass. you whine at the sting. he grabs the back of your neck like he did earlier and you can’t help but grin a little. he yanks your head back and your body sits up on top of him. he feels so deep inside of you. you hum at the feeling, not even realizing your hand drops down to rub over your lower stomach. 

you still wear the faint grin on your lips as you look down at him. “hm?” 

“who carried out his judgements, served punishments, and set examples?” he fucks into you slower, focusing on your body. noticing how your hips move in small swivels and bounces on his cock. how your nipples peek through in needy points of the thin material. 

he gives your ass another slap and your head tips back with a moan, “ngh, the angels.” 

he squeezes your neck from behind at your response. your eyes rolls back as you continue to fuck yourself down onto him in severity. a slutty sound leaving you with every kiss of his dick to your cervix. 

“yes,” he pulls you back down to his face. his hand is still tight around your neck, borderline suffocating in pressure. “and he sent one to me too.” he feels your pussy pulse around him, signaling you’re close to cumming. “he sent you to me. but instead of learning a lesson i became obsessed just as my thoughts.” jake always had a dangerous personality, hiding inside of him. his obsessions becoming an illness was nothing he should be shocked by. or maybe it’s the other way around and he was always sick so he became it. “i so badly wanted you to be my savior… to tell me lies of purity and goodness.” he feels his cock throb, aching to release. he chases the feeling of pure want, pounding relentlessly into you. 

“open your mouth,” he demands with a low growl. you listen without a second thought and he spits into it. his saliva meeting your tongue only to be swallowed down. 

he pressed a kiss to your lips while you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure as you cum. your body collapses on top of his like an act of defeat. your breathing so ragged and lungs suffering; jake releases his hold on your neck only to use both hands on your hips to bounce your body on him. 

while your body makes small quivers in overstimulation, jake groans loudly as he cums inside of you. as you feel the deep warmth coat your insides, a sense of drowsiness takes over you. 

“i feel like a besotted rot has taken over me, and it’s been growing evermore since i met you.” he whispers, relaxing his body flat against the bed. with you still on top of him and his cock still buried in you with his seed, he hugs you. “it’s killing me from the inside out. you’re going to kill me. i can feel it.” 

the quiet and gentle honesty of his fearful ending confession lulls you to sleep. 

he continues to fuck you until he’s too tired to not. 

　 　　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

 　when you wake up the next morning, you feel your entire body is in pain. there’s a throbbing pain in your head, a dull strain in your neck, and a heavy ache in between your legs. 

you sigh as you sit your body up, hands place slightly behind you at your sides. you make slow circles of your head to stretch your neck muscles. there’s a pang of sharp pain for a split second but you relax once reversing the movements around. 

with lazy eyes, you scan the surroundings of the bedroom. the sun shines bright through the thin lace, white curtains. the clock reads that it is half past 10 in the morning. on the white, wooden night stand beside the bed is a note, a cup of water, and a plate of cut up fruit that has probably been out longer than intended. the door is slightly cracked open and the cold, heavy weight is missing from around your ankle. 

you stretch your arms and back before leaning over to chug down the glass of water. you think of eating the fruit presented for you, but decide on not. it's hard to have an appetite these days. 

you move yourself to sit at the end of the bed, legs and feet dangling off the mattress. you realize how quiet the house is. normally, jake is always with you when he’s home. if he’s working from home then he is next to you, or at least at the desk with his work laptop. but it’s saturday, so why would he be working? 

“jake!” you call out his name, but there is no response. your voice doesn’t sound like normal, it’s rough. you call for him again and still there is nothing. only layla comes up the stairs to push past the door. she too looks confused. 

you look outside the large window next to the bed and realize that his car isn’t there either. 

you look back to the nightstand, remembering there was a note left for you. you pick it up and read: had to run out. i will be back soon. rest and eat well, angel. 

with the note in your hand, you squeeze your hand into a fist, crushing and crinkling the paper in your palm. you stare at the destroyed paper, enclasped in your hand, before releasing your fist and letting it fall to the floor. 

the sound of a car driving makes you turn around. you don’t know if it’s annoyance or ease that washes over you. but once your eyes see the car, you know that it’s neither. because it’s not jake’s car that you see outside. you can recognize it’s one from the other night though. 

you’re quick to stand up and make your way over to the side of the clear glass. you peek over the side of the window, suddenly not comfortable to be seen. is it because you know jake isn’t here? your heart rate picks up rather quick, along with a feeling of anxiety. who is here? why? 

a tall man with dark, brownish.. no reddish hair, steps out of the now parked vehicle. he glances around before jogging over to the side of the house. you furrow your brows in confusion, wondering what he could be doing. you bite at your lip, trying to look around the house as much as the window allows.

then you walk over to the bedroom door and close it quietly, leaving you and layla inside. you lean your back to the door and slide down to the floor. your ear presses against the wood, listening to anything that you can. there isn’t much to be heard for a minute or so. and then there is. there’s a landing thud from somewhere downstairs. a clashing of objects hit the floor with it. something like a glass bowl or cup, if you had to assume. you can tell it’s coming from the kitchen based on the direction alone. 

your heart beats harder now and you don’t even realize how your hands hold a small tremble. you’re frozen in place; you don’t know what to do. jake always tells you what to do. he tells how to handle situations, how to react, how to respond. 

the footsteps of the intruder are rushed. quick feet move through the house and up to the stairs, only to stop right outside the door that you’re in front of. you feel a dangerous panic coarse through you, and unknown to you, you’re holding your breath as if it could give you away. 

seconds feel like minutes followed by a knock at the door. it’s slow and just as scared as you are. 

you place your hands over your mouth, silencing yourself from uttering a sound or a word. meanwhile layla lets out a guarded growl. you shake your head as you look at her, as if she could understand the notion. 

“i know you’re in there. i’m here… i’m here to help you.” the voice is sweet, familiar. it’s a friend of jake that’s been here before. he must have been the one who stayed longer than he should’ve last night. 

for some reason, you still remain silent. why would he come back? 

“i don’t know what exactly is going on between you two, but i know when something isn’t right. and jake isn’t…” his voice goes soft. he’s worried and nervous. 

“he isn’t what?” heeseung hears your melodic voice, weak yet defensive. 

“can you open the door? i don’t know how much time we have.” the door knob turns but doesn’t push open. it’s not locked. you both know it, but neither of you bring yourself to break the barrier. 

you stand from the door, your legs uneasy as if a baby fawn learning to walk. you grab the door handle with a timid hand. you turn it slowly and pull back the door just a crack. you look up with wide eyes. you’re face to face with someone other than jake for the first time in what feels like forever. someone is finally seeing you, talking to you, acknowledging your existence. why isn’t it as exciting as you anticipated? 

heeseung gapes at your disheveled appearance. his eyes quick to find the many bruises that litter your body, from your neck to your arms and legs. then to the scarred bite mark that’s discolored and horrid along your shoulder. and lastly over your face: dry, bitten lips and dark circles around your sad eyes. “i’m sorry.” is all heeseung can say. you think his voice sounds disappointed. 

“why? it’s not like you did anything.” you pull the door open a little more, unintentionally though. it furthered the exposure of the room when your hand pulled back to wrap around yourself. your eyes scan over his face, taking in the up close new appearance. you think he’s very cute for a second before a dread of guilt becomes you. you wrap your arms tighter around your midriff, as if to conceal what you’ve begged to be seen. you avert your eyes from his, suddenly embarrassed. 

heeseung steps into the room, and you step back. your eyes watch his feet. it feels like you weren’t given the permission to look at him; like you’ve already overstepped jake’s boundaries and broken his rules by seeing and speaking what you already have. yet your heart races with adrenaline. 

“that’s the problem. i didn’t do anything the minute i knew something was wrong.” 

it’s nice to hear something rational for once.  

“i tried to come up with some sort of plan as soon as i could. he left and i found his keys,” you immediately look up at heeseung when he mentions the object you fantasize about. keys. unlocked cage. freedom. “i figured the kitchen window would be the less susceptible.” he attempts a laugh but it’s clearly full of nerves. his eyes dart from you to the outside window. it reminds you of yourself. that feeling of waiting for jake, always mixed with too many emotions to really decipher. 

“but for real, you need to get a jacket and shoes on. we have to leave right now.” heeseung deadpans. his eyes watching yours that refuse to look back. you just stand still in the room, shaking like a leaf in the wind. your focus trained to the floor, spacing out from the scenario. 

“is this real?” your voice is quiet, unsure. “did jake put you up to this to test me? i don’t want to cause more trouble with him. i don’t like when he’s…”

heeseung begins to frantically search the room. he goes to the closet and shifts through the hanging clothes for the thickest jacket he can find. he grabs a big one with faux fur lining and heavy material, “put this on. where are your socks?” he hands it to you but you just hold it low in your hands, letting it hit the floor. he opens drawers of the dresser nearby, finding a pair of socks. 

still spacing out, feeling dreamlike, you sit down at the edge of the bed. the large winter coat still hands in your fingers, half over your lap and exposed legs. 

heeseung crouches down in front of you with socks in hand and a pair of boots by his side. he looks up at you with despairing eyes, but you just watch the floor below him. i should sweep the floors. there’s dog hair and dust everywhere. 

trepidatious, large and unknown hands pick up your foot. the cold fingers brush over your abused ankle. a sick feeling of flutters fills your stomach, you jerk your leg back from his touch. this isn’t right. something like a stray cat who doesn’t let strangers touch. 

“what happened to this?” he lightly taps the bone, “you need to see a doctor.” he tries again but faster this time. gentle hands pulling the sock over your foot and then the other. next he reaches for the boots to put your feet into. “come on, get the jacket on.” he says as he stands, a hand reaching out to you. you stand from the bed and ignore the offered gesture. 

you take a few steps forward and stop. heeseung takes notice of the slight limp in your walk. his eyes follow the floor from your feet and that's when he sees it. the long silver chain that’s attached to the bedpost, mounted to the floorboards. 

“jesus fucking christ…” he exhales, taking the coat from your hands to put it on you himself. 

“i used to try and break that whenever i had the chance, but i ended up hurting myself in the process.” you laugh a little. he sees your blank stare and lost smile. “he would ice my ankle for me though. and he wrapped it up, changing the bandages everyday when it was worse.” 

“i’m gonna get you somewhere safe.” heeseung promises, taking your hand in his own to lead you to the door. “you won’t have to live like this anymore, okay? do you have more family somewhere, someone we could call?” heeseung is doing his best to remain calm, but inside he senses immense uneasiness. you can feel how his palms are sweaty and holding too tight of you. you don’t like it. 

“my parents…” it’s a whisper. he helps you down the stairs and to the kitchen. your heart feels like it's a ticking time bomb set to explode. each beat a warning that screams louder and louder.

“well, how about anyone else.” there’s consternation. 

you stop in your tracks, heeseung tries to pull you forward. his eyes begging to leave through the window he left open for you two. “why anyone else?” you question. you feel heavy again, a boil builds in your body, your heart racing faster than you know it was capable. your breathing becomes quick and panicked. heaves and wheezes now leaving your body. “what? w-what do you m-mean?!” 

“they… jake, he…” heeseung stammers, his head moving side to side in a slow display of sorrow. he reaches out to you, to pull you into a hug of comfort. 

but you just stand there, unbelieving of what the man is trying to imply to you. “no, no… he wouldn’t—” your bottom lip quivers and eyes sting. 

from the corner of your eyes, you see a dark shadow approaching heeseung from behind. a large object hangs high in the air with the shadow. you let out a blood curdling scream, eyes looking past heeseung. the tall man turns his head around before the held object comes crashing down into the back of his head. heeseung drops to the floor in an instant, his hand slipping out of yours. 

it all happened so fast. 

you’re in a fit of panicked sobs now. your eyes can’t look away from the man who tried to help you; the man you didn’t try to believe in. there’s an open gash in his head, bleeding and matting into the hair. you feel sick. 

your attention is removed from the man when a familiar hard grip pulls on your hair. “where the hell did you think you were going!?” jake’s voice is terribly sad, loud and croaking. he’s dragging you back down the hall and up the stairs to your room. 

“i wasn’t going anywhere!” you squirm around trying to look back at him, “i was never going to leave! i swear!” 

jake sits you down at the chair by the desk, his hands place on your shoulders. he looks down at you with disquiet heartache, “you promise?” he’s fixing to cry. you hate when jake cries. 

you nod your head quickly, still having a panic attack, still frightful and overwhelmed. 

jake swallows hard, staring into your eyes. he’s trying to trust your word, and ultimately he just does. he places a long kiss to your forehead. you feel a drop of wetness land against your skin. and you just sit there, watching him leave the room with hands of shaking fists. 

you hear a lot happening downstairs while you’re glued to the chair. there’s loud commotion and aggressive words being passed between the two. heeseung is still alive. they’re fighting. 

unknowing of what to do, you squeeze your eyes shut. you curl your body inwards and cover your ears, gently rocking yourself back and forth to ease your mind of the chaos. this isn’t real. it’s all a bad dream. it’s another bad story you conjured up. 

and then someone yells. a painful, agonizing noise that you can’t disassociate from. it sends shivers through you. you can’t open your eyes, you can’t leave the room. if you don’t see it then it’s not happening, right? 

the clashing of aggression comes to a halt. and the usual eerily silence of the house stands still. 

a few minutes go by. 

you lift your head and open your eyes when you sense the door being weakly pushed open. 

you gasp and stand up, quickly moving over to jake to help him stand up straight instead of leaning on the door. 

“j-jake…” you’re crying, “hey, wha-what happened?” you’re trying to support his weight but it’s too much. you both somehow manage to make it to the bed. did he do it? did he kill heeseung? 

jake is covered in blood and he’s crying too. he simply shakes his head and presses wet kisses your cheek, pulling you down to lay next to him. he can’t say anything. 

confused and scared, you ask him again, but he doesn’t speak yet. he just holds onto you as tight as his body allows. the blood begins to stain your clothes, the bed sheets and blankets.

he breathes a ragged sigh, looking at you with wet, thick lashes, “i thought god hated me. ya know, for making me the way i am and expecting me to follow him.” he coughs, turning his head away from you, hiding. “but why would he hate me and still give you to me?” he laughs with a small cough, he feels his mouth tinge with metallic iron. 

you watch from the side of his face, crying quietly. then you feel it. the warm, seeping of thick liquid spilling onto you. your eyes track down your body and his, landing on the gash of his shirt. an open wound punctured in his side. a wrecked sound slips past your lips with your cries. 

“even if it was a punishment, you’ll always just be an angel to me.” his head turns back to face you, his mouth painted red with slips of blood passing the corners of his smile. 

you push yourself from his hug, crazed to find some material to wrap around jake and stop the bleeding. but he pulls you back to him, his eyes closing. “h-hey, hey. stop, it’s okay. just hold me close a little longer.” and you do. through all your whimpers, hiccups, and tears. you wrap your entire body into him, legs entangled and arms wrapped never this tight around him before. 

eve was made from adam’s rib. so is it really your fault for wanting to crawl inside the man you’re closest to? 

jake’s breathing is starting to become dangerously slow, along with the pulse of his heartbeat. 

heeseung, who managed to crawl his way up the stairs, waits outside the door. blood is dripping down his face and neck from his head. he coughs, grabbing your attention. 

you sit up just enough to not let go of jake, swollen eyes watching heeseung sit at the edge of the stairs. his body is struggling to stay upward, he wobbles and sways. his eyes not able to stay open. he asks you if you could drive them to the hospital, in hopes that there is still time to save them. 

you don’t take the risk of losing the only family you have left, so you do what he asks.  

 　time passes by in a blur. you end up back at house a day later to take care of layla. jake and heeseung are still in the hospital. you don’t know who will recover or die first.

when you return to the house, you do all the things that jake would normally do. you take layla outside for a walk around the house. you make sure she has food and water. you make yourself a meal that will be left untouched. 

and then you trudge up to your room and you crawl into the blood stained bed. you attach the metal cuff to your ankle, and lay there in silence. you think of praying but end up crying yourself to sleep instead. 

the first man you knew to really sin, not just true nor venially but mortally sin, you can’t help but want to wait for the return of. to be damned with him may be his punishment and your fate, but whatever happens is in gods hands now. maybe it doesn’t really matter anyways because you’ll be his attic angel, always.

© fangel ┊ do not copy, repost, modify or translate my content ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ — feedback and reblogs are appreciated 🗝️ !

꒰ tags & those who asked for part 2 ⸝⸝ if you want removed lmk ꔛ @nshmrarki @enhalxvr @jaengwon @taeminsboogers @beomsdoll @immelissaaa @pshfan0812 @supershy3 @hauntsoul @jenniferecand @randomanothercreature @numnomn @en-heedeungie @hwasangel @thatonedaragirltho @hooneverse @maliakealoha @kon-ss @laybensu @whateveridontcaresheesh @strawberrynull ꒱

[sheepispink]

Idea by @isabellaswiftie13198987

COD MASTERLIST

“This isnt a normal massage Si,” You hum, moving to practically straddle his legs as he lays face flat against the bed. What day of work wasnt long for him? He practically ended up like this more days than one and you were determined to see him a little more relaxed, even moreso that it’s the weekend tomorrow. “Oh? This a premium massage, hm?” He grunts, his head only shifting slightly to peer back at you before he lets his nose brush the duvets again. They smell of you— everything does, the towels, the couch, the bed, his clothes too. The only thing left untainted was his uniform; though now you had mercilessly pulled it off of him, perhaps that’d be infected too.

“Hm, sort of.” Slowly you graze your hands along the expanse of his back, something you’ve grown to forget the feel of. It’s warmer than you remember, rougher too with some new scratches near his waist. Even with the painfully differing colours of all of the bruises, it’s like a brand new map to explore, and to comfort him for. It cant be easy to change this often, whilst the rest of him is supposed to stay the same. So tonight, it’s your turn to re-mould him into the man you know and love—he just has to relax, and enjoy your show.

“You see, first you gotta knead the dough.” His fists clench when you start at his shoulders, pushing your fingers into the thick muscle and forcing the knots out. One hand on each shoulder, you continue, slowly moving closer and closer to his neck until finally his shoulders relax properly, the bed squeaking slightly as he lets the air take his tension. Now you move to your knuckles, dragging them down his back to the base before slowly working up. Your knuckles push and drag against his skin, occasionally stopping to really put pressure on a spot. When you reach his lower back, where his muscle is a tiny bit pudgier, your knuckles press in and tension flickers through him. “Love—“ But you’re too fast, pushing the heel of your palm into the muscle until he lets out a shaky sigh.

”Lord..”

“There was a lot of dough there, gotta knead it out.” You muse, carrying on your little journey to work out every ‘large piece of dough’ or rather the knots in each muscle until he quite literally has melted against the bed.

His arms aren't flat at his sides anymore, no he had to stretch them forward before he completely lost feel in them too. After all, your hands were way too good at getting him to this state. “You done?” He grumbles, voice noticeably softer but still a little too gruff for your liking and so you quickly shake your head, leaning down to press a kiss to the curve of his ear. “Who just has plain dough? That’s disgusting Simon.” Your cheeky remark makes him grunt again, and you snicker, grabbing some creams from the dresser. His back was dry, likely from lack of water, but definitely from lack of care. It’s not like you ever let that last too long anyway; as long as you were around he’d be a pillow princess every night.

You squeeze a dollop of moisturiser, the cold substance making him shiver but you don't take too much notice, spreading it from the top of his shoulders down to the waistband of his boxers. Your thumbs press in again, dragging across his waist to his sides and then up along his spine too. “This is freezin’, you’re trying to kill me now.”

“Hmph, fine i’ll warm you up. It’s time for the cheese anyway.”

You huff, patting his skin to maximise the absorption of the cream. But what confused him was the “cheese”. What were you going to do? It made no sense to him in the slightest, were you gonna just punch him or something?

He feels the first touch, dangerously light against his neck, and then it grows warmer and warmer as it grows lower. Your warm breath fans against his back, soft touches of love left against every inch of his spine. Your hands hold his waist, affectionately grabbing his muscle as you continue your path. His bruises get all the more pecks, making him twitch again, almost squirmish, but he can't swat you away when you just feel so, so good. Carefully your nails drag against his skin, definitely not enough to hurt but enough to make him shift beneath you, eyes flittering against the bed. “Don’t think there’s enough cheese, Sweet’art. You know I like extra.”

You giggle, happy he’s finally going along with your plan and you nod along, returning to his shoulders to leave your mark there too, kissing and scratching the skin in a way that makes way too many sighs leave his mouth.

“Mm… we're all done?” He can only mumble now, eyes drooped and likely about to fall asleep if not for the fact that he does not want to let this end, ever. “Pepperoni first— they’re frozen, sorry.” This time the touch is icy cold, but it quickly fades out to a numbing feeling. You have icy hot gel in your hands, which you rub into the bruise, making a circle on each one that litters his back. His fists unravel now, slowly gripping the pillows above instead. It’s almost adorable how easily he gets all mushy from your touch, just a simple massage. “Uh huh.. and what now?”

“Baking time.” You lean down more on his back, the warmth of your body invading his. Slowly you blow across his back, and he can't help but squirm a little, the feeling ticklish but comforting nonetheless when he feels your legs against his. When he feels your arms wrap around his middle, and your legs properly encase him, he doesn't even bother to raise a brow, instead using the last of his strength to turn himself over and pull you in properly. “We need all the warmth we can get for the best pizza.”

He murmurs into your ear, giant arms clutching around your body and swallowing you whole with his presence. He pulls the covers firmly over the both of you, entangles your legs and buries his face deep in your neck. “A shame really, you smell like a real meal, love.” You can only giggle and kiss his neck again, making sure your arms are wrapped as tights as his are. “Baking time lasts the whole night, didnt you know?”

“Well if you’re the oven, then i gotta make sure you’re the right temperature too.” His lips shut you up before you can respond, eyes all drooped and exhausted. Seems the pizza was perfectly made today.

[lizziesangel]

thinking of rafe cameron helping you to fall asleep

the gentle hum of the air conditioning was the only sound breaking the silence of the bedroom. you lay sprawled on your side, staring at the digital clock on the nightstand. 2:47 am. you groaned softly, turning onto your back, frustrated with your inability to fall asleep for the third night in a row.

beside you, rafe stirred. his golden hair was tousled, and his breathing had been deep and even—until now. his arm slid across your stomach, pulling you closer.

“baby,” he mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep. “what’s wrong? you keep moving.”

you hesitated. you hadn’t wanted to wake him up. “sorry. i just… i can’t sleep.”

he propped himself up on one elbow, concern flickering in his blue eyes even in the dim light. “again?”

you nodded, biting your lip. “i don’t know what’s wrong. i feel tired, but the moment i lie down, my brain won’t shut up.”

rafe frowned thoughtfully, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing specific. it’s like my thoughts are just… spinning.”

he sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “okay, let me help. stay here.”

before you could protest, he was out of bed and heading toward the kitchen. a moment later, he returned with a glass of milk and handed it to you. “drink this. sometimes it helps.”

you accepted the glass, smiling softly at his effort. “thanks, baby.”

once you set it down, rafe climbed back into bed and pulled you into his arms, resting your head on his chest. his fingers began tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“close your eyes,” he murmured. “focus on my voice. i’ll talk you to sleep.”

you chuckled softly, though you did as he said. “what are you going to talk about?”

“anything that keeps your mind off whatever’s bothering you,” he replied. “like… remember that trip we took to the bahamas last summer? the sunset on the beach, how you made us walk to the prettiest sight just to get the perfect photo? you looked so happy then.”

the memory made you smile. “yeah, that was a good day.”

“exactly,” he said, his voice low and steady. “think about that. the sound of the waves, the sand under your feet, the warmth of the sun on your face.”

his words painted the scene vividly in your mind, and the tension in your body began to melt away. rafe continued, his voice like a lullaby, recounting favorite moments, funny stories, and little things he loved about you.

before you knew it, your breathing had slowed, and your thoughts were no longer spinning. you felt yourself sinking into the comfort of his arms, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“rafe,” you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“yeah, princess?”

“thank you.”

he kissed the top of your head, his hand still stroking your back. “always, sweet girl. just sleep now. i’ve got you.”

and with that, you finally drifted off, safe and sound in the arms of the one person who could always make everything better.

MASTERLIST

[multi-fandom-imagine]

My little girl || Jason Todd ||

A/n: 6am, can't get girl dad Jason out of my head.

It was an accident, on how he found out. I mean it's not like he knew the little slip of paper had it written out.

A girl

Jason froze. The words on the paper hit him harder than he expected. A girl. He was having a daughter. His chest tightened, his throat felt dry, and before he could stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly rubbed at them, embarrassed by his own reaction, but the realization overwhelmed him.

Sitting on the couch, his hand trembling as he slid the paper away he couldn't stop thinking.

A little girl. His little girl.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. He thought of all the things he wanted to protect her from, all the ways he would be there for her the ways no one had been there for him when he was young. He thought about you, and how their daughter would undoubtedly inherit your warmth and strength. And for the first time in a long time, Jason let himself cry not out of anger or pain, but out of pure, unfiltered joy.

Jason had always been good at keeping secrets. It was practically part of his job description as Red Hood. But this? This was different. Knowing you two were having a girl was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and keeping it from you felt like torture.

While at home you had noticed something was off almost immediately. Jason was fidgety, overly attentive, and kept sneaking glances at your belly with a grin he couldn’t quite hide.

“What’s going on with you?” You asked one evening, narrowing your eyes as you caught him staring. “You’re acting weird.”

Jason froze mid-bite of his sandwich, quickly covering. “Weird? Me? Nah, I’m fine.”

You smirked, folding your arms. “Jason Peter Todd, I know you. Spill.”

He shook his head, standing abruptly. “I can’t! I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He practically fled to the kitchen, leaving you staring after him, your suspicions growing.

A few days later, Jason’s excitement finally got the better of him. They were lying in bed, you curled up against him as you two talked about baby names. Jason had been trying desperately to keep the secret, but when you mentioned the possibility of a boy, he couldn’t help himself.

��Okay, but what about girl names?” he blurted out, his tone too enthusiastic to ignore.

You tilted your head up to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you so focused on girl names all of a sudden?”

Jason froze, realizing his mistake. “Uh no reason? I mean, just you know, in case.”

You sat up, your smirk returning. “Jason. You know, don’t you?”

Jason groaned, running a hand down his face. “Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait. Are we having a girl?”

Jason sighed, then smiled, his joy impossible to hide. “Yeah. We’re having a girl.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, tears springing to your eyes. “Jason why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted, pulling you into his arms. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, we’re having a little girl. I’ve always wanted a daughter. I didn’t even think I’d get to have a family, let alone this.” His voice cracked slightly, as you kissed him softly.

“We’re so lucky,” you whispered, your own tears mingling with his. “She’s going to have the best dad in the world.”

Jason held you close, his hand resting protectively over your stomach. “And the best mom,” he said quietly. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she knows how much she’s loved.”

As you two sat there together, the secret finally out, Jason felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He was going to be a dad to a little girl, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly whole.

[dollarbils]

such a fuckboy | b.e.

fwb!billie x fem!reader

context. billie approaches you at an event, but you’re soon reminded that she has others waiting in line for her attention.

warnings. friends with benefits, smut, spit, oral, fingering, teasing.

request/request/request masterlist

her tattooed hand crept behind your back and rested firmly around your hips when she greeted you amidst the crowd.

“hey baby, what’s the frown for?” she commented on your expression, genuine concern spread across her features.

“it’s nothing, i just feel a little out of place here.” you replied, scanning the room once again to be met with unknown faces. you were at some gathering a mutual friend had invited you to, and knowing billie would be there, urged you to go.

“i didn’t expect to see you here, i was surprised. a pleasant surprise of course.” her lips pulled up to one side as she slyly delivered the compliment, a smile forming on your face when she did.

“i didn’t think i was gonna come, but a friend convinced me to. it’s been quite the turnout.” the last was an effort of sarcasm and it made billie chuckle, subconsciously pulling you closer.

“well you look so fucking good babe. it would be a shame to let that go to waste.” her eyes reflected the glistening lights that decorated the venue, as her bottom lip disappeared under her teeth.

“oh yeah? i wonder what your suggestion to fix that would be?” she smiled and was on the verge of finding a witty response before your conversation was interrupted.

“billieee, what’s taking so long? you said you’d be back in a minute.” a blonde emerged from somewhere behind you, her voice whiny and child-like for her age.

“yeah, fuck that’s my bad.” her arm left your body as she let herself get pulled away by one of her other bitches, reminding you of your position.

“i’ll find you. go mingle!” her last desperate words before she was out of your audible range, disappearing with the pretty blonde.

you stood awkwardly for a second, not completely sure what to do with yourself. deciding a drink in your hand would settle your nerves, you headed towards the bar.

“not surprised?” a girl approached you, having heard the last few words of your conversation.

“sorry?” your eyebrows knotted in confusion.

“billie. she’s always wrapped up in someone, you can’t seem to get five minutes alone with that girl. trust me, i know.” she scoffed chewing on the olive from her martini.

“wait, you mean, you? and billie?” you questioned as you were making the connection.

“me and plenty others. she’s ‘been around’ to say the least.” you chuckled when she signalled air quotations with her hands.

“she’s a fuckboy. i’m well aware.” she smirked at the comment.

“well it’s nice to meet another one of billie’s bitches, so to say.” she laughed at her own words.

“yeah, pretty humbling title don’t you think?”

“mm, she picks and chooses.” she shrugged her shoulders as if you were supposed to understand.

“what do you mean?” she paused for a second before speaking, as if not sure of what to reveal.

“well if she’s strung you on for this long it must mean she likes you. most of us get two nights at most before she’s bored.” a twinge of guilt settled in your stomach when she spoke so negatively of billie, who was your friend after all.

“no i mean we’re friends. i’ve know her for years.” you felt like you were bragging somehow, proving your place in billies life, proving to be superior to any other girls concerned.

“damn, i met her last night. im pretty sure she was drunk when she invited me here.” she held back a scoff, continuing the passive aggressive insults. she had been drunk last night, she’d called you.

“that doesn’t sound like her.” you always seemed to find yourself defending her, despite everything you knew. this conversation really hadn’t revealed anything new.

“looks like she’s come crawling back.” she nodded her head towards the girl approaching from behind. and you turned your face to be met with hers.

“back so soon?” you teased and she rolled her eyes. she scanned the girl you were previously talking to, an ounce of recognition clearly present.

“dead weight as usual, who’s this?” billie’s question clearly seemed to upset the girl as her face contorted in anger, but it was obvious she wasn’t surprised.

“honestly, fuck you billie.” she scoffed and walked away, mumbling words of ‘good luck’.

“well that was slightly dramatic.” billie still seemed confused and hadn’t caught on to your comment.

“what was that about?” she turned to place herself in front of you, gently caressing your arms.

“billie. do you seriously not remember?” she smiled awkwardly, catching onto the fact she should know who the girl was.

“uhh, yeah?” she dragged out her words in hesitation.

“you fucked her last night.” her eyes went somewhat wide as she turned to examine the girl.

“no recollection whatsoever of that. to be fair though, i wasn’t really in my right mind, what did she expect.” her nonchalant facade took over as she shrugged her shoulders.

“you invited her here.” her mouth opened in momentary surprise.

“shit, yeah that’s my bad.” she almost chuckled and you couldn’t help shaking your head in disbelief.

“god you’re such a fuckboy.”

“excuse me! i am not.” she huffed, clearly offended.

“oh please.” you rolled your eyes which seemed to annoy her further, her grip on your arms more prominent.

“yeah? say it again.” her tone was demanding but nowhere near the extent of her dominance. she made it almost too easy to counter.

“you’re such a fuckboy, billie.” she narrowed her eyes. “what? you don’t wanna hear it? it’s the fucking truth.” she smiled, clearly recovering from her moment of shock.

“mm,” she paused for a second. “i’ll accept it if you accept your truth.” your eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“tell me.” she was grinning when you urged her to speak.

“you’re just one of my whores, and i know you love it.” she pushed you further against the table behind you, raising her eyebrows to challenge your response.

“maybe, but you can’t deny i’m your favorite.” she smirked, biting the inside of her lip.

“what makes you so sure of yourself, baby?” she was playing with you now, submitting to the tension between you.

“because you never forget your nights with me.” she chuckled, however, still aware of your surroundings. otherwise, she’d have you right there.

“let me take you home.” her nose rubbed against yours tenderly as she placed a kiss on the side of your lips, misdirecting you completely.

“i don’t really want to go home.” you quipped, her eyebrows raising again. her sweet demeanour soon vanished when she spoke again.

“fine by me.” she said simply before forcefully dragging you to go find a spare room. it didn’t take her long either before she found an office type looking room, pulling you inside and locking the door.

“really?” you scrunched your nose up at the room, observing the furniture.

“what? it has a couch. besides, your hardly in the position to complain.” she backed you up against the door as she narrowed her eyes, her black eyeliner doing nothing to make her look less intimidating.

“i guess i shouldn’t put it past you.” she chuckled as her hands traveled to your ass.

“you’re really testing me today, aren’t you sweetheart?” her hands slid under your jeans, threatening the fabric of your underwear as she gripped your bare ass, almost making you jump if you hadn’t been expecting it.

“it’s fun.” this time, your words were almost a whisper, her face so close to yours causing the lower volume.

“mm, it is.” she agreed before bringing her lips to yours, closing the space between you with a kiss. gentle but still firm, her hands doing the work to assert her dominance instead, as she continued palming your ass. her lips left your fairy quickly as she traveled down your neck, the halter top you were wearing giving her easy access.

“billie.” the satisfied mumble left your mouth when her teeth moved the fabric of your top off of your tit, so that her mouth could attach to your nipple. you felt them harden as she sucked and nipped at them, her hands moving to undo your jeans.

“well that was an easy way to shut you up.” her face moved back up to yours and she guided your hips towards the couch, pushing you down as she swiftly followed, climbing on top of you.

“just get on with it.” you rolled your eyes but she clearly didn’t appreciate that. she almost laughed when she closed her hand on your neck.

“i think i’ll take my time, but thanks for the suggestion, baby.” her hand moved to undo the straps of your top, biting her lip when she exposed your tits.

“open up.” her command came with a soft tap of her finger against your lips, one of her hands returning to rest on your neck.

“come on baby, don’t be a brat.” you narrowed your eyes as she brought her face down to yours. when you complied with her request, her spit soon coated the back of your throat, as she closed your jaw, urging you to swallow.

“good girl.” her lips moved towards your tits again, as she began to bite the skin around your nipples, bruising the area. her hands worked quickly to remove your jeans, and she broke away to pull your top off aswell.

“baby, please.” you huffed when her fingers traced your clit through your panties.

“so now you’re all sweet again huh?” she teased, in reality she couldn’t get enough of it. your small sighs of content when her lips wrapped around your nipples, or when her tongue slipped past your lips. she could drown in the sounds of your pleasure.

“billie.” you dragged it out in a whine.

“yes, babe?” her fingertips worked their way past your underwear and through your folds. your mind erased any words you were attempting to say when her lips kissed your jaw. the only sounds leaving your mouth being soft moans as she teased you with her fingers.

“come on, i know you have it in you.” she purred into your ear, the hair on your back raising with shivers travelling down your back.

“no?” her fingers left your pussy and came up to your mouth. she tapped your lip again, pushing them in as you opened your eyes to stare into hers as you sucked on them, making a show of it too.

“there she is.” billie smirked when you moaned against her fingers, her hips beginning to grind on yours. she was becoming more turned on the harder you sucked on her fingers.

“fuck.” she sighed, when they left your mouth with a pop, a trail of saliva following. she couldn’t help but move down your body, sliding your underwear off as she kissed your lower stomach, tracing your thighs with her hands. it didn’t take long for her to move her lips lower, laying her tongue flat against your clit before using her fingers to spread the lips of your pussy. her mouth circled around your entrance, as her nose prodded your clit.

“mm, keep doing that.” she mumbled when your nails dug into her scalp, pulling at her hair while she ate you out. her fingers slid through your pussy, teasing your walls as she worked with her mouth.

“fuck, bils. more p-please.” your words, a mere stutter when she dipped her fingers past your entrance, her lips returning to your clit. your stomach tightened when she curled her fingers, slowly, dragging out your pleasure. her soft groans vibrated through your core as she brought you closer and closer to your release. you clenched around her fingers as she hummed in approval.

“i’m so close bils, c-can i-?” your words were interrupted when she thrusted another finger deeper into your heat, her thumb resting at the base of your entrance, just below her chin.

“mhm, go on baby.” she quickened her movements, as you released on her fingers, your thighs squeezing her head before she used her free hand to push your hips down. she pulled them out and lapped up your arousal, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“oh my god billie.” you sighed, out of breath, when you’d come back to your senses.

“yeah?” she grinned as she came back up to kiss you, holding your chin firmly to make sure you could taste yourself on her tongue.

“bet you’re glad i fuck those girls, hm?” she joked, laughing when she saw your expression.

“billie! what a dick!” you hit her playfully but she just continued laughing.

“i’m joking.” she pecked your lips but you didn’t return the gesture.

“what? come on, don’t be upset.” her expression softened when she realised you were serious, regretting the comment despite it’s humour.

“i’m not upset, it’s just-” you trailed off, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“hm? you’re jealous?” she smirked resting her body against yours as she sat on your lap.

“no!” you were quick to deny it, a reflex almost. but when she gave you time to think with her silence, you rephrased your response. “well, maybe.” she took your face in the palms of her hands gently.

“don’t i have the right to be? if i were just a good fuck why would you string me along for this long?” her thumbs rubbed your cheeks.

“i’m not trying to string you along, love.” her words were sincere but lacked an answer to your question.

“then what is this?” you gestured between the two of you, asking the million dollar question.

“i don’t know, i guess i just didn’t think you’d want more than just… this.” she repeated your gesture to clarify her words.

“are you joking?” you scoffed, disbelief spread across your features.

“what? it’s kinda awkward to tell one of your closest friends your into her.” she argued in defence.

“a friend you fuck.” you added.

“look, i’m sorry baby. i don’t know what you want from me.” her eyebrows were furrowed and her words tender.

“what do you want?” you asked. curiously, but also out of genuine confusion.

“i just-” she took a second to think. “i just want to see you, be with you. kiss you and… fuck you.” she smiled at the last part, needing to lighten up the conversation. and you laughed at her hesitance to admit it.

“that’s what i want. but i want you to want that with just me. no one else. is that really too much to ask from you?” her smile didn’t falter.

“no, of course not. i want that too.” she kissed you, holing your face, keeping it close to hers. and she didn’t let go.

[beloveds-embrace]

your omega simon idea makes me both soft for him and salivating at the thought of protecting such a big strong guy, urgh i love it. Giving Si and you a big forehead smooch, i love your brain😩 Very much hoping that your brain keeps thinking about omega simon so we get to feast on this damn good food too

Omega simon does unbelievable things to me 😩 and I am giving you a very big and loud smooch back!! <3 have this little Drabble that i wrote fast (so pls excuse any rushedness and mistakes 😔)

The hangar was buzzing with activity as they finally touched down on base, but neither you nor Ghost paid it any mind. The moment your boots hit the concrete, exhaustion weighed heavier than any gear strapped to your bodies. Without a word, without even glancing back at the others, the two of you slipped away like smoke. Silent, deliberate, and entirely focused on one thing: rest.

Price, Gaz, and Soap barely had tme to finish unloading before they noticed your absence.

“Where the hell did they go?” Soap asked, looking around like the two of you might reappear from thin air.

Price’s eyes scanned the hangar for a sharp second before he sighed, already putting the pieces together. If anything, he’d expected this. “Probably holed up somewhere to rest.”

Gaz groaned, though he couldn’t hide the fond smile that cracks on his face. “They could’ve at least told us first.”

“They didn’t have to,” Price said knowingly. “You saw the state they were in.”

And they had. Weeks of back-to-back missions, constant stress, and frayed nerves had worn everyone thin, but you and Simon had carried it differently. Instincts that screamed for comfort, security, and stability, but the battlefield offered none of that. Now that you were finally safe, it made perfect sense for the two of you to disappear and soothe those raw, overworked instincts.

It took them almost an hour to track you down, and when they did, it was clear why you hadn’t wanted to be found.

The room was dimly lit, smelling faintly of detergent and something softer- vanilla and Simon’s deeper cedarwood scent. Blankets, pillows, and their clothes had been piled high, creating a warm cocoon against the outside world. You were curled up in the center, tucked against Simon’s broad chest, your breathing slow and steady for the first time in days. He had one arm wrapped protectively around you, his mask discarded, revealing a rare look of peace on his face- what part of it that wasn’t buried in your hair.

Soap hesitated at the door, lowering his voice instinctively. “They look…”

“Content.” Gaz supplied, leaning against the frame.

Price crossed his arms, face softening the longer he looked at the two of you. “They needed this.”

It was rare to see Ghost so unguarded, but here- with you- he looked safe, grounded in a way the others knew only you could manage. Your hand was fisted lightly in the fabric of his shirt, and his nose rested in your hair like he’d been breathing you in for hours.

“They’ll come out when they’re ready, let’s leave them to rest.” Price murmured, already turning to shepherd the others away.

“Should we leave food out for them?”

Gaz snorted, rolling his eyes, and gave Soap an amused look. “They’re not strays, Johnny.”

But the idea stuck, and before long, supplies were quietly left at the edge of the nest- water bottles, snacks, and extra blankets. None of them entered the space, knowing better than to disturb their omegas when they were finally at rest.

And when the two of you eventually emerged, bleary-eyed and loose-limbed, the pack was waiting- ready to gather you both into steady, grounding embraces. No words were needed. Just their presence was enough to reassure you that everything was okay.

You and Simon had each other, but you also had them. And in a world that demanded too much, that was enough.

[moonselune]

I absolutely love how you write for the bg3 companions!!

Can we get romanced companions reacting to seeing Tav being approached by an abusive ex, who grabs them violently when Tav tries to walk away from the confrontation? They are grabbed violently by the hair, neck, wrist, etc? Thank you!!

omg yessssssssss tw everyone this will contain themes of abuse and domestic violence so if you are uncomfortable with that please click off and I will see you in the next one xox

Karlach:

The tavern was warm and lively, filled with the buzz of laughter, clinking mugs, and the hum of an old bard strumming away in the corner. You sat close to Karlach at a small, dimly lit table, her broad grin as radiant as ever. Her laughter boomed over some silly tale you'd told, her joy contagious as the two of you sipped from your mugs. The night was going perfectly—until they showed up.

You didn’t see your ex at first, but you heard their voice, a cold and unwelcome shard of your past cutting through the tavern’s warmth. “Well, well. Look who it is.”

Your stomach dropped. Turning slowly, you saw them, standing just a few feet away with that same cruel smirk you’d hoped to never see again. They looked the same, too—bitter, angry, and clearly still holding a grudge. Karlach’s laughter faded as she noticed your sudden shift in demeanor. Her eyes flicked between you and the person now looming over your table.

“Not here,” you said softly, your voice steady but laced with warning. “Don’t make a scene. Just leave.”

They laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that turned heads. “Oh, I’m making a scene?” they sneered, stepping closer. “You think you can just walk out of my life and act like nothing happened?”

You tried to stand, but before you could, their hand shot out and grabbed your arm, fingers digging into your skin.

“You’re not going anywhere,” they hissed.

The motion was so sudden that the tavern seemed to freeze for a moment. The mug in Karlach’s hand thudded onto the table, her expression darkening in an instant.

“Get your hands off them,” she said, her voice a low, warning growl.

Your ex sneered at her, but before they could say anything more, Karlach shot up from her seat. She shoved them back with one powerful hand, forcing them to release you. The force sent them stumbling, their eyes widening in shock.

“You okay?” Karlach asked, her warm brown eyes filled with concern as she turned to you. Her hand came to your cheek, her thumb brushing gently against your skin.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though your voice wavered slightly. “Let’s just—”

Before you could finish, your ex stormed back, their face twisted in rage. They lunged toward you, but they didn’t get far. Karlach’s fist met their face in a flash of fiery determination, the impact so loud it echoed through the now-silent tavern. Your ex crumpled to the floor in a heap, unconscious before they even hit the ground.

Karlach flexed her fingers, looking down at them with disdain.

“Idiot,” she muttered, then turned back to you. “C’mon, love. Let’s get out of here.”

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for your coat. As the two of you walked out into the cool night air, Karlach slipped an arm around your shoulders, her presence grounding you.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think they’d—”

“Stop,” Karlach said gently, her voice firm but kind. “You don’t owe me an apology for their bullshit. What’s their deal, anyway?”

You hesitated but eventually sighed. “We were together a long time ago. It… wasn’t a good relationship. They were controlling, mean. It took everything I had to leave.”

Karlach’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flicker of rage in her eyes as she looked straight ahead.

“Should’ve killed the arsehole,” she muttered under her breath.

You chuckled softly, though it was tinged with nervousness. “You don’t have to solve everything with violence, you know.”

She looked down at you, her expression softening.

“Not everything,” she said with a small grin. “But that? They had it coming.” Her arm tightened around you. “No one gets to treat you like that. Not while I’m here.”

A warm wave of gratitude washed over you as you leaned into her, the safety of her presence more comforting than words could express. “Thank you, Karlach.”

“Always, love,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. As the two of you walked home, you felt lighter, knowing you were no longer alone in facing the ghosts of your past.

Minthara:

The streets of Baldur's Gate were alive with the din of activity: merchants haggling in the marketplace, children darting between the crowd, and the occasional bard strumming a jaunty tune. You walked alongside Minthara, her presence commanding, as always. Her arm curled around your waist with a possessiveness that was both protective and tender. Her silvery hair caught the evening light, and her voice, low and firm, reached your ear.

“We are being followed,” she murmured, her lips brushing your temple. “Someone’s gaze lingers far too long on you.”

Your heart sank, a sinking pit of familiarity clawing at your gut. You subtly glanced over your shoulder under the guise of adjusting your scarf, and that’s when you saw them: your abusive ex. Their figure lingered in the shadows, weaving through the crowd like a snake, their eyes fixed on you with that same unsettling intensity you had tried so hard to forget.

“Dammit,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. The weight of the moment sank in, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

Minthara’s amber eyes narrowed as she studied your expression.

“Who is that?” she asked, her voice icy and sharp.

You hesitated, considering whether to brush it off, but you knew better than to lie to Minthara. “Do you remember the scar just above my hip?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper.

Her grip on your waist tightened as she nodded, her gaze fixed on you, unreadable yet intense.

“They gave it to me,” you admitted, keeping your voice steady. “It happened the day I tried to leave them. We fought, and—” You stopped, the memories creeping too close. “They’ve always had a hard time letting go.”

Minthara’s body went rigid. Her hand, still wrapped around your waist, stilled entirely, her nails pressing into the fabric of your tunic. Her jaw clenched, and before you could stop her, she uncoiled with terrifying precision and sprinted toward your ex.

“Minthara, wait!” you shouted, but it was useless. She was already closing the distance.

Your ex barely had time to react before Minthara tackled them to the ground with the force of a lioness taking down her prey. The crowd scattered, gasps and shouts echoing in the marketplace as she delivered blow after calculated blow. Each strike was vicious but efficient, aimed with the precision of someone trained to dismantle an opponent piece by piece. Her movements were smooth, brutal, and terrifyingly beautiful in their ruthlessness.

“Touch them again,” Minthara snarled, her voice low and venomous as she pressed her forearm against your ex’s throat, “and I will ensure that death would beg for you before I allow it.”

She delivered one final punch, leaving your ex groaning and crumpled in the dirt, their face bloodied and swollen. Satisfied, she stood, brushing her hands off as if she had merely swatted a fly. She strode back toward you, the calm precision of her movements making the crowd part before her like waves.

When she reached you, she lifted her chin, a faint, dangerous smile curling her lips.

“The injuries I’ve given them will take decades to heal,” she promised, her voice still simmering with fury. “And perhaps a century to scar.”

You stared at her, part of you unsure whether to admonish or thank her. Finally, you sighed, shaking your head. “Minthara, you didn’t have to—”

“They hurt you,” she cut in, her voice softening only slightly as her gaze bored into yours. “That is reason enough.”

She reached out, brushing her thumb against your cheek with unexpected tenderness. “You are mine to protect. That wretch deserved every ounce of pain I inflicted.”

Despite the ferocity of her words, the warmth in her touch reminded you why you trusted her so deeply. With a soft sigh, you nodded, leaning into her hand.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, the weight of her actions settling in. Her smile widened, pride glinting in her eyes.

“Of course, my heart. No one who dares harm you will ever go unpunished.” She took your hand and began walking again, her steps measured and sure. As the chaos in the marketplace faded behind you, you couldn’t help but feel safer than you ever had before.

Lae'zel:

The bustling market was alive with noise: merchants shouting out their wares, children weaving between the stalls, and the occasional clang of metal as blacksmiths displayed their crafts. You and Lae’zel moved through the chaos, her sharp eyes scanning for supplies while you trailed beside her, taking in the sights. It was a moment of relative peace amidst your usual adventures.

And then, like a thunderclap on a clear day, you saw them. Your ex.

Before you could react, they were in front of you, their face lighting up with a joy that felt out of place—wrong, even. “There you are!” they exclaimed, pulling you into a hug so suddenly that you didn’t have time to resist. Their arms wrapped around you tightly, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat as panic set in. It wasn’t the embrace of an old friend—it was a claim, a reminder of the control they once held over you.

“I’ve missed you,” they said with a grin, pulling back to look at you. “We have to catch up sometime.”

They left without waiting for your reply, disappearing into the crowd as if they hadn’t just turned your world upside down. You stood there, motionless, your heart pounding and your thoughts racing.

Lae’zel, who had been perusing a nearby stand, turned to you. Her amber eyes immediately narrowed, her expression shifting from mild annoyance at the interruption to something far more dangerous.

“What is this?” she demanded, stepping closer. “You look like you’re about to fight a dragon with a pitchfork. Who were they?”

You couldn’t speak at first. Your throat felt dry, and the words were stuck, lodged somewhere between fear and shame. Finally, you managed to stammer out, “That… That was my ex.”

Lae’zel’s eyes sharpened, her gaze cutting through you like a blade.

“And this is your reaction to a past lover? You are no stranger to affection, but you looked as though the mere touch of them turned your blood to acid.” Her voice lowered, her tone becoming more dangerous. “What did they do to you?”

You tried to explain, but the words faltered. Your lips moved, but the memories caught up with you, dragging you back into a place you didn’t want to revisit. You didn’t need to say it, though—Lae’zel saw the truth in your silence.

She cursed violently in Gith, the harsh, guttural sounds slicing through the air. Her hand tightened around her weapon, and her whole body tensed like a predator ready to strike.

“They hurt you,” she said, her voice barely above a growl. “I will take their head and present it to you as a trophy.”

She turned, already scanning the crowd for their retreating form, but you reached out, grabbing her arm.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. “Just… wait a moment.”

Lae’zel hesitated, her muscles twitching with the need for action, but she stayed. Her eyes never left you as you closed yours and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within. She stayed close, her presence grounding you as you forced yourself to let go of the fear and focus on the present.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes and gave her a weak smile.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I just needed a moment.”

Her gaze softened slightly, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Because I will not let this stand.”

You nodded, a small gesture, but it was all she needed. With a fierce grin, she turned on her heel and stalked into the crowd, her focus like a blade honed to perfection.

It didn’t take long for her to find them. You followed at a safe distance, your heart racing but unable to stop her now. She caught up to them near a fruit stall, grabbing them by the shoulder and spinning them around. They barely had time to react before Lae’zel shoved them against a wooden post, her face inches from theirs.

“You dare to touch what is mine?” she snarled, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone nearby. “You have left scars on them that I cannot abide. For that, I will use your head as my footrest.”

The ex stammered, their confidence evaporating under her ferocity. Before they could say anything more, Lae’zel delivered a sharp blow to their stomach, doubling them over. She stepped back, letting them fall to their knees, then stood over them like a conqueror surveying her victory.

Satisfied that her message was clear, she turned and walked back to you, her expression fierce but triumphant.

“It is done,” she said simply. “They will not trouble you again.”

You let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over you despite the chaos. “Thank you,” you said, reaching out to take her hand.

Her grip was firm, reassuring. “No one hurts you and walks away unscathed,” she said. “Not while I draw breath.”

With that, she led you away, her protective presence a shield against the world.

Shadowheart:

The party was vibrant, full of chatter, music, and laughter. The hum of lively conversation filled the grand hall as you and Shadowheart wove through the crowd, wine glasses in hand. You hadn’t been entirely thrilled about attending, but Shadowheart’s soft insistence and the promise of shared moments made it worthwhile.

That was until you saw them—your ex.

They were standing near the center of a small group, regaling their audience with some elaborate tale, their gestures animated and their voice dripping with charm. Your stomach turned when they noticed you, their expression lighting up with the kind of false familiarity that set your nerves on edge. They sidled over, slipping seamlessly into your space, and before you could react, they had drawn you into their circle.

Shadowheart, ever watchful, stayed close, her sharp eyes flicking between you and your ex.

“We can leave,” she murmured under her breath, her voice calm but concerned. “Say the word.”

You shook your head, managing a strained smile.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, though your grip on your glass tightened slightly. You didn’t want to ruin the evening for her.

As the conversation swirled, your ex began telling a story—one about you. They spoke as if the two of you were still an item, peppering their tale with biting remarks and veiled insults.

“Oh, you should’ve seen them back then,” they sneered, “always so scatterbrained. Couldn’t even get through a simple task without my help.”

The group laughed awkwardly, clearly sensing the tension. Your face burned with a mix of anger and humiliation, but before you could find your voice, Shadowheart stepped forward, her demeanor cool and composed, but her eyes as sharp as daggers.

She interrupted smoothly, her voice cutting through the conversation like a blade.

“That reminds me of a story from my past,” she said, her tone conversational yet chilling. The group turned to her, captivated by the quiet authority in her voice. “There was a time when I dealt with an exceptionally arrogant prisoner. They fancied themselves clever—always talking back, thinking they were in control. So I decided to teach them a lesson.” She paused, taking a sip of her wine as if the next part were merely an afterthought. “I ripped out their tongue and fed it to them.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The group stared at her, their eyes wide, as the weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Your ex, who had been so confident mere moments ago, visibly paled, their mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort.

Shadowheart tilted her head slightly, a faint, dangerous smile playing on her lips. “It’s remarkable how much quieter some people can be after a simple… correction.”

Your ex stammered something unintelligible before hastily excusing themselves, practically fleeing from the room. The tension broke, and you couldn’t help but laugh—a genuine, bubbling sound of relief and delight. You turned to Shadowheart, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection.

“Thank you,” you said, grinning. “The look on their face… I’ll treasure that forever.”

Shadowheart leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender yet possessive kiss.

“I love you,” she said softly, her words a vow as much as a declaration.

Then she pulled back slightly, her eyes glinting with something dark and resolute.

“Hold my wine,” she said, pressing her glass into your hand. “There’s something—or rather, someone—I need to deal with.”

Before you could protest, she was gone, her dark hair flowing like a shadow cutting through the crowd. You watched her go, a mixture of admiration and mild terror filling you. Whatever she had in mind, you knew one thing for certain: no one would dare cross her—or you—ever again.

Jaheira:

The warm hum of Jaheira's household had always been a comfort to you. The chatter of the children, the occasional laughter, and the scent of a home-cooked meal mingled with the faint floral aroma of the plants she meticulously tended. You were setting the table, ready to sit down for the evening meal with Jaheira and her family, when an insistent knock sounded at the door.

The sound froze you in place. It wasn’t the friendly, casual knock of a neighbor or friend. No, it was sharp and demanding, like someone who felt entitled to be heard. Dread pooled in your stomach, but you swallowed it down. You weren’t that person anymore. You were stronger now, surrounded by people who cared for you.

Still, when you opened the door and saw your ex standing there, their familiar sneer twisting their features, that old fear reared its head.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, keeping your voice firm. “This isn’t the time or the place.”

Your ex scoffed, taking a step closer. “I’ll decide where I should be,” they spat. “We have unfinished business.”

Your heart raced, but you held your ground. “Leave,” you repeated, gripping the doorframe tightly. “Now.”

Their response was to shove you—hard. The force sent you stumbling back, and you hit the ground with a painful thud, the breath knocked out of you. Your ex marched inside, their eyes scanning the room like they owned it.

“Get out!” you shouted, your voice shaking more than you’d like.

The commotion brought Jaheira’s children rushing into the room. Jhessem and Tate were at your side in an instant, their small hands helping you sit up as they looked at you with wide, worried eyes. Fig, ever the fiery little warrior, grabbed her wooden sword and brandished it at your ex, her small frame trembling but determined.

“You leave them alone!” she yelled, her voice high-pitched but fierce.

Your ex laughed, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. But the laughter died when Jord and Rion stepped forward, their presence filling the room with an almost tangible force.

Jord, tall and broad-shouldered, the half-orc planted himself between the children and your ex.

“You’ve got two seconds to get out of this house,” he said, his voice low and rumbling with warning.

Rion, her sharp features twisted into a glare that could cut stone, pointed a finger at your ex.

“You do not belong here,” she said, her tone icy. “Leave before I make you.”

Despite the bravery of Jaheira’s children, you quickly pushed yourself to your feet, positioning yourself between them and your ex.

“This isn’t their fight,” you said firmly, your voice stronger now as you faced your abuser. “Leave them out of this. Leave us alone.”

Your ex sneered, taking a step toward you, but before they could say another word, the sound of measured, deliberate footsteps echoed from the staircase. Everyone turned as Jaheira descended, her eyes sharp as a hawk’s.

She took in the scene at a glance—the children bristling with protective anger, you standing tense and pale, and your ex, whose presence tainted the very air. Her expression darkened like a storm cloud.

“What is this?” she asked, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Your ex, ever the fool, sneered. “Just having a little chat.”

Jaheira’s gaze flicked to you. “Are they threatening you?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

Before you could answer, your ex made the mistake of laughing. “This is none of your business, old woman.”

Jaheira didn’t respond with words. Instead, she raised a hand, her fingers curling in a subtle motion. Thorned vines erupted from the floor, twisting and writhing like living snakes. They wrapped around your ex with terrifying speed, pinning their arms to their sides and tightening until they yelped in pain.

“Get them out of here,” Jaheira commanded, her voice like steel.

The vines obeyed, dragging your ex toward the door. They thrashed and cursed, but the thorns only dug in deeper. With a final, satisfying motion, the vines flung them out into the street. The door slammed shut behind them, and the vines retracted as if they had never been.

Jaheira turned to you, her eyes softening. You immediately started to apologize, guilt bubbling up in your chest. “Jaheira, I’m so sorry—I never thought they’d come here. I never wanted to put you or your children in danger—”

“Stop being ridiculous,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. She stepped closer, her hands cupping your face as she looked you over. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” she said, her hands dropping to your shoulders. “You’ve been through enough tonight. Rest now.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Jord said, already heading toward the kitchen with calm efficiency.

Fig tugged at your sleeve, her wooden sword still clutched in her hand. “We’ll always help you,” she said, her voice small but fierce.

You managed a smile, ruffling her hair. “Thank you, Fig.”

Jaheira wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the sitting area.

“You’re safe here,” she murmured, her voice steady and soothing. “No one—no one—will ever hurt you again.”

As you sank into the cushions, the tension slowly leaving your body, you felt the warmth of Jaheira’s family around you. They had rallied to protect you without hesitation, and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly safe.

Gale:

The cozy, labyrinthine aisles of Sorcerous Sundries stretched out around you, their shelves laden with ancient tomes and scrolls that hummed with latent magic. The scent of old parchment and ink filled the air, grounding and soothing. You and Gale had been immersed in your own quiet exploration, each lost in the treasure trove of knowledge. Every so often, you’d exchange a snippet of discovery—a passage here, a glyph there—but for the most part, it was a shared silence, warm and comfortable.

As your fingers trailed over the spine of a particularly aged tome, its title caught your eye: The Heart of Aetherial Bonds. Intrigued, you flipped it open and found a passage that immediately reminded you of Gale. The words were poetic, a reflection on the ties between love and magic, the way one could amplify the other. A small smile tugged at your lips. He would love this.

“Gale,” you called softly, tucking the book under your arm as you began to weave through the aisles, searching for him.

Your steps were light as you rounded a corner, spotting a familiar silhouette a few shelves away.

“There you are,” you began, but as the figure turned, the words died in your throat.

It wasn’t Gale.

Your blood ran cold as you recognized them—your ex. The person who had haunted your past, whose shadow you had thought you’d escaped. Their eyes lit up with a twisted glee, and before you could move, they stepped forward and grabbed your arm in an iron grip.

“I can’t believe it,” they said, their voice dripping with possessive satisfaction. “I’ve been searching for you, and here you are.”

“Let go of me,” you said firmly, trying to pull away. Their grip only tightened, the familiar pain radiating up your arm.

“You’re coming home,” they hissed, their tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart pounded as you pushed against their hold, your voice shaking. “You’re hurting me—let go.”

But just as before, they didn’t listen. Their other hand reached to grip your shoulder, and for a moment, panic threatened to overwhelm you.

Then, the air shifted. A crackling sound filled the room, sharp and electric, like the air before a storm. A chill ran down your spine as the oppressive grip on your arm faltered. Both you and your ex turned toward the source of the energy.

Gale stood at the end of the aisle, his form illuminated by a pulsing, arcane light. His expression was unlike anything you had seen before—fierce, unyielding, his eyes glowing with a raw, dangerous power. Magic swirled around him, forming tendrils of energy that snapped and sparked against the air.

“Release them,” he said, his voice a low, commanding growl.

Your ex hesitated, their bravado wavering as the sheer intensity of Gale’s presence bore down on them.

“This isn’t your business, mage” they spat, but their voice lacked conviction.

“Oh, but it is,” Gale said, his hands lifting as the magic in the air intensified. “You’ve made it so.”

Before another word could be uttered, a blinding flash of energy erupted from Gale’s outstretched palms. The searing light enveloped your ex, their scream cut short as their form disintegrated into ash, leaving nothing behind but a faint, acrid scent and a smudge of dust on the floor. The magic dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the air still and silent.

Gale was at your side in an instant, his hands gently cradling your face as he looked you over.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice soft now, filled with worry.

You shook your head, tears welling up as the adrenaline drained from your body.

“I—I’m okay,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the weight of what had just happened settled over you. The tension in your body melted as you buried your face in his chest, the faint scent of his robes and the comforting hum of his magic grounding you. Your shoulders shook as quiet sobs escaped, the fear and relief spilling out all at once.

“It’s over,” Gale murmured, his hand gently stroking your back. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You clung to him, the sound of his heartbeat steady and calming against your ear. After a while, your tears slowed, and you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His face was a mixture of concern and quiet anger, his protective instincts still on high alert.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said, your voice trembling but sincere.

He smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Astarion:

The lively hum of the tavern wrapped around you like a familiar cloak, its warmth and noise a welcome respite from the chaos of adventuring. You sat at a corner table with Astarion, his sharp wit and flair for drama turning a mundane evening into something delightfully entertaining. Together, you exchanged hushed gossip about the other patrons—their fashion choices, their whispered secrets—and laughed at his outrageous commentary.

“Oh, look at him,” Astarion murmured, tilting his head toward a burly man near the bar, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “I’d wager he’s had one too many pies—and just one too many wives, judging by that tan line on his ring finger.”

You snorted into your drink, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And yet, you adore me,” he said with a playful smirk. He lifted your glass with a flourish. “Speaking of adoration, I’ll be a dear and fetch you a refill. Don’t miss me too much.”

You grinned, watching as Astarion sashayed toward the bar, his charm radiating even in the simplest of tasks. Leaning back, you took a moment to enjoy the bustling atmosphere, but your peace shattered as a shadow fell over your table.

Your stomach churned as you turned to see your ex standing there, their presence as unwelcome as a dagger in the back. Without waiting for an invitation, they slid into Astarion’s vacated seat, their grin sending a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” they said, leaning closer. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You stiffened, your pulse quickening. “Leave,” you said coldly, standing abruptly. “This isn’t the place, and I have nothing to say to you.”

But as you turned to leave, their hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back with a cruel force. A sharp yelp escaped your lips as pain flared along your scalp.

“You think you can just walk away from me?” they snarled, their grip tightening. You tried to swing at them, but panic muddled your movements, and they easily avoided your weak attempts to break free. The room seemed to close in, the once-lively chatter of the tavern fading into a distant hum as fear took hold.

And then, just as suddenly, the pressure on your scalp vanished. You staggered forward, catching yourself on the edge of the table, and turned to see your ex frozen in place. A knife glinted at their throat, a thin line of blood already welling against the blade’s edge. Behind them stood Astarion, his expression icy and predatory.

“I’ve been dying for a fresh kill tonight,” Astarion purred, his voice dangerously low. “And it seems you’ve volunteered. How considerate.”

Your ex’s bravado crumbled as they began to stammer, their hands raised in shaky surrender. Astarion’s grip on the knife didn’t waver, his sharp eyes flicking to you.

“Darling,” he said, his tone almost conversational, “this one’s causing you trouble, isn’t he?”

You met his gaze, your scalp still throbbing but your heart swelling with gratitude. Nodding slowly, you gave him permission with a single, deliberate motion of your head.

Astarion’s smile widened, and he dragged your ex out of the tavern with an almost casual ease, ignoring their sputtered protests. The crowd parted instinctively, sensing the danger in his stride. You stayed behind, nursing your scalp and taking deep breaths to steady yourself. The minutes felt like hours, but eventually, Astarion returned, brushing off his hands as though he’d simply taken out the trash.

“All taken care of,” he said, his tone light as he reached for you, cupping your face gently. “Let me see—did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “I—I could have handled it.”

Astarion raised an elegant eyebrow, his hand trailing down to rest on your shoulder.

“Oh, please, my love,” he said with mock exasperation. “You’re many things, but you’re not a liar. Let me have this one.”

You sighed, relenting. “Thank you, Astarion.”

He smiled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “You’re welcome, darling. But seriously, are you okay? That brute—”

You interrupted him with a nod, placing a hand over his. “I am now. Because I’m with you.”

His expression softened, the predatory edge replaced by something tender.

“Always,” he murmured, his voice a promise. With a protective arm around your waist, he led you out of the tavern, away from the echoes of the past and into the safe haven of his presence.

Wyll:

The ballroom of the Ulder Ravengard's estate was a vision of opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light over marble floors polished to a mirror sheen. Noblemen and women in resplendent attire swayed to the music of a skilled orchestra, their laughter mingling with the hum of conversation. You and Wyll had been thoroughly enjoying yourselves, weaving through the room, gossiping about fashion choices and laughing at poorly-hidden flirtations among the elite.

Wyll, as always, moved with an effortless charm that drew people to him like moths to a flame. He introduced you to old friends, clinking glasses with ease, his laugh rich and genuine. His warmth was contagious, and you found yourself at ease in a social world that might have otherwise intimidated you. But when Wyll excused himself to chat with a group of friends near the wine table, you waved him off with a smile, happy to people-watch for a while.

A light tap on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. A hand reached out, beckoning you to the dance floor. You assumed it was a friend or an acquaintance and allowed yourself to be led. But as you turned, your stomach plummeted. Your blood ran cold.

It was them.

Your abusive ex stood before you, their grin as sharp and cruel as you remembered. It was a grin that promised pain masked under a veneer of charm. You instinctively tried to pull your hand away, but their grip only tightened, their fingers digging into your wrist.

“Don’t look so surprised,” they said smoothly, their voice low and venomous. “You didn’t think you could escape me forever, did you?”

“This isn’t the time or place,” you hissed, keeping your voice quiet to avoid drawing attention. “Let me go.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” they replied, their grip tightening further as they began to lead you into a slow, swaying dance. Their tone was soft, deceptively sweet, but their eyes glinted with malice. “You owe me this much, at least. Don’t make a scene. Wouldn’t want to embarrass your fancy boyfriend or his oh-so-important father, would you?”

Your heart raced as they leaned in closer, their breath hot against your ear.

“You think you’ve moved on, don’t you? That you can just walk away from what we had? You’re mine, and you always will be.” You tried to twist out of their grip, panic rising in your chest.

“Let go of me,” you spat, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay composed.

Their smile only widened. “Oh I don’t think so,” they said, their voice dropping an octave. “You’re going to regret leaving me.”

You braced yourself, half-expecting them to lash out. Your eyes squeezed shut as you prepared for a blow that never came. Instead, a loud, sickening crack echoed through the ballroom, followed by gasps from nearby guests.

Opening your eyes, you saw your ex sprawled on the polished floor, clutching their face. Blood gushed from their nose, staining their pristine clothing. Standing over them, his posture rigid with fury, was Wyll. His usual easygoing demeanor was gone, replaced by a simmering rage that made the air around him feel electric.

“Touch them again,” Wyll growled, his voice low and deadly, “and a broken nose will be the least of your worries.”

Your ex scrambled backward on the floor, their bravado shattered as they stared up at Wyll in terror. Before they could say anything, a pair of Flaming Fist guards appeared, having been alerted by the commotion. Wyll waved them over, his eyes never leaving your ex.

“Take them,” Wyll ordered, his voice firm. “They’re disturbing the peace.”

The guards didn’t hesitate. They grabbed your ex by the arms and hauled them to their feet, ignoring their sputtering protests and threats. As they dragged your ex away, Wyll finally turned to you, his expression softening in an instant.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked gently, stepping closer to cup your face in his hands. His warm brown eyes scanned you for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “Wyll, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to cause a scene—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize. This isn’t on you.”

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, brought tears to your eyes. He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he whispered soothing words into your ear. The rest of the ballroom seemed to fade away, leaving only the comforting warmth of his presence.

When you finally pulled back, he brushed a stray tear from your cheek and gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded, your breath evening out as the panic subsided. “Thank you, Wyll.”

He kissed your forehead tenderly before taking your hand in his.

“Come, my love,” he said, his voice returning to its usual warmth. “Let’s get you a fresh drink. We’ve both earned it tonight.”

And with that, he led you away from the gawking crowd, his protective arm wrapped securely around you, a silent promise that no harm would come to you as long as he was by your side.

Halsin:

The forest was tranquil, the golden light of the afternoon filtering through the dense canopy of leaves. You moved between patches of wildflowers, humming a tune as you gathered handfuls of blooms for the orphans back at the grove. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers and moss, and for a time, you felt entirely at peace.

Your basket was nearly full when a faint rustling behind you caught your attention. You paused, glancing over your shoulder, but the forest appeared empty. Shrugging it off as a rabbit or some other harmless creature, you bent down to pluck a cluster of bright yellow flowers. You didn’t notice the shaggy, wiry wolf stalking closer, its pale eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

Suddenly, the wolf sprang from the underbrush, a blur of fur and teeth. You gasped as it collided with you, the force of the pounce knocking you to the ground. Its heavy paws pinned you to the forest floor, the breath driven from your lungs as you struggled beneath its weight.

Before you could scream, the wolf began to shift. Fur melted into skin, limbs elongated, and in moments, you were staring into the face of your abusive ex. The recognition hit you like a blow to the chest, your blood running cold.

“You,” you breathed, horrified, and immediately began to struggle.

They leaned closer, their wild eyes gleaming with an unnerving fervor.

“Did you miss me, darling?” they crooned, their voice dripping with mock affection. “I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t let you go, not like that.”

“Get off me!” you snapped, shoving at their chest with all your strength. Your heart pounded as you tried to call for help, but their hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you.

“Shh,” they whispered, their grin twisting into something darker. “Don’t make this difficult. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

Panic surged through you, and you did the only thing you could think of—you bit down hard on the palm of their hand. They hissed in pain but didn’t flinch away, instead smirking as if they found your resistance amusing.

“Still feisty,” they murmured, their tone infuriatingly condescending. “I’ve always loved that about—”

Their words were cut off by a deafening roar, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through the forest. A massive brown bear charged out of the trees, barreling into your ex with bone-crushing force. The impact sent them flying, their body slamming into the trunk of a tree with a sickening thud.

The bear was relentless. Your ex shifted back into their wolf form, snarling as they tried to defend themselves, but they were no match for the sheer ferocity of Halsin. His claws tore through fur and flesh with savage precision, his roar echoing through the woods as he drove your ex deeper into retreat. When the wolf finally lay broken and bloodied, it whimpered and slunk away, disappearing into the underbrush.

Halsin remained in bear form for a moment longer, his massive chest heaving as he watched the wolf flee. Only when he was certain the threat was gone did he shift back, his towering frame immediately rushing to your side.

“You’re hurt,” he said urgently, dropping to his knees and cradling your face in his large hands. His amber eyes scanned you for injuries, his expression a mixture of worry and fury. “What did they do to you?”

“I’m okay,” you said, your voice trembling as the adrenaline began to fade. “I’m just… shaken up.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. His embrace was almost crushing, but you didn’t mind—you needed the grounding warmth of his presence as much as he needed the reassurance that you were safe. You buried your face against his chest, clinging to him as your body trembled.

“I should have been here sooner,” Halsin murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your forehead. “I’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.”

You rested your head against his chest, letting his warmth and steady presence soothe your frayed nerves. “You were here when I needed you,” you reassured him. “That’s all that matters.”

Halsin pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. He didn’t let go, and you didn’t ask him to. In that moment, being in his arms was the safest place in the world.

[If you or anyone that you know of has experienced behaviors like this please do not hesitate to contact your local authority]

oof that was a bit of a heavy one but i hope you guys enjoyed it - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[azuredawn81]

patron of the arts p4 | quinn hughes x musician!reader

part 3

♫ summary: quinn and y/n go to new jersey to meet his family. she's nervous. his family just adores her.

♫ pairing: quinn hughes x reader

♫ content: fluff, flirty!quinn, queen ellen, mama’s boy!quinn

♫ word count: 2k

♫ warnings: the eras tour (sorry to everyone who didn’t go)

♫ note: merry christmas

❅ tags: @verycoolusername1 @luvoblivixus @tomskookie @leclerc-drives-in-circles@dream-girl06 @skepvids@how-what-why-huh @devilinpradaheels @r0wdymaize86 @summert158 @lolatokki@captainhuggys @camiesully

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“baby, are you sure you got everything?” quinn said, a smirk on his face. there’s no way y/n could’ve forgotten anything, not when she packed the whole apartment.

“yes, i’m sure.”

“just double checking. can’t let your forget perfume number 5.”

“oh, that reminds me, should i wear miss dior or good girl to meet your mom?”

quinn just blinked, exasperated. “y/n, it does not matter. my mom will think you’re amazing.”

“so, chance?”

“you’re hopeless.”

“hopelessly in love!”

“unless you want to put the bags in the car, go sit down.”

y/n sat in the passenger seat, plugging in her phone for music.

“you better not be putting on taylor!”

“you were at the eras tour!”

“höggy made me go!”

he slammed the trunk shut and sat down in the driver’s seat.

“and did you enjoy it?”

“i mean, i kinda liked vigilant sh-”

she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “don’t you dare finish that sentence, quinny.”

“i’d rather see you do that.”

“ugh, i have to go on a eight hour flight with this sicko!”

“the sicko that holds you every night.”

“the very one.”

“you know i love you, right?”

y/n made an affirmative hum noise, staring out the window.

“no, no, look at me.”

“yeah?”

“turn your head.”

“what?”

“i love you.”

she kissed him again.

“baby, you gotta say it back.”

like clockwork, her lips were on his yet again. “i love you more.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

quinn held her hand as they boarded the plane, taking their seats in first class. y/n got the window, quinn got the aisle.

“goodnight, love.”

“goodnight? baby, it’s 1pm.”

y/n pushed the divider between their seats up and nestled into quinn’s arms. “goodnight.”

“forgetting something?”

“oh right!” she leaned down and grabbed her purse. inside, was a little bag containing her sleep mask.

“goodnight, quinny.”

he pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “goodnight, my sweet girl.”

as soon as she was asleep, quinn put his airpods in. he’d been taking a break from podcasts to listen to what he viewed as the highest form of music, the new vso album. it was about 45 minutes, so he could listen to it about eleven times. eight and a half hours, snuggling his girl, staring out the window. this was going to be an easy flight.

“mr hughes?” the flight attendant asked.

“hi.”

“would you like anything to drink?”

“just a water.” he nudged y/n. “angel, wake up.”

“what?” she muttered, groggily.

“drink?”

“it’s too early.”

“2:30, love.”

“diet coke… with the little biscuits.”

“so a diet coke and water?”

“yes, please.”

“ice?”

“angel, you want ice?”

“sure…”

“i’ll be right back.”

y/n was already back asleep.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

quinn: hey mom

quinn: we’re on the plane

ellen: oh good

ellen: is y/n feeling alright? quinn: she won’t admit it, but she’s a little nervous

quinn: she’s performed for presidents and heads of state

quinn: flown out to perform at the coronation for king charles

quinn: but meeting you and dad is scaring her

ellen: oh poor girl

ellen: i love her already

quinn: you do?

ellen: yes of course

ellen: she’s made you so happy

ellen: she actually has substance and her own career

ellen: and the grandbabies i’d get… adorable

quinn: mom be so serious right now

ellen: i am!

ellen: she has a nice nose.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“angel… angel, wake up.”

“no….”

“we’re landing soon. if you keep sleeping, your ears will hurt.”

“too early…”

“tausk will be mad if you can’t use your perfect pitch.”

y/n jolted awake. “don’t say that name, i’m on break.”

“you’re so cute when you sleepy… and asleep.”

“were you watching me sleep?”

“baby, we’ve been on this plane for almost nine hours, yes i watched you sleep.”

“this is what i mean, you’re a creep.”

“i had to be your pillow for eight hours.”

“and? you’re my boyfriend?”

“i love you.”

“love you too.”

she put her earbuds in and leaned against quinn, smiling. he pulled out his phone to text his brothers.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

da boyz 😈

quinn: 30 minutes till we land

jack: lets gooooo

luke: how’s y/n

quinn: tired

quinn: she slept the whole flight

quinn: she’s very nervous

luke: why

jack: probably mom

quinn: all of you actually

luke: no way she’s nervous about meeting me

quinn: she’s nervous cause you’re my brother idiot

jack: mom loves her already

quinn: y/n doesn’t know

luke: did you not tell her

quinn: no i did

quinn: she just doesn’t believe me

jack: she’s mostly just happy that y/n is famous for something other than wearing bikinis

luke: dude you can NOT be talking

quinn: yeah jack one of us has to

jack: ok whatever

jack: luke and i will be at the airport soon

luke: mom and dad won’t be staying with us

luke: but don’t think that mean you and y/n can be loud all night

jack: luke that would mean quinn gets action

quinn: who has the girlfriend

jack: you and me both dork

luke: 😔

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“i think i have a pretty good idea of your family. you talk about them a lot,” y/n said, watching quinn grab their suitcases from the overhead bin.

“quick refresh.”

“uh-huh.”

“don’t leave your food unattended around luke.”

“you’ve made that clear.”

they walked off the plane into the airport, his hand holding her so tightly.

“seems like you’re the nervous one, quinny.”

“me? no.”

“your hand’s clammy.”

“is it?”

“are you nervous?”

“very.”

“you’re just seeing your family.”

“yeah, but i’m bringing you home and i haven’t brought home a girl in a long time. and you’re amazing. but with an atypical job.”

“i don’t want the hockey player telling me how i have an atypical job.”

“lots of people are pro athletes, y/n.”

“and lots of people are musicians.”

“tomatoes, tomahtoes.”

“uh-huh.”

“oh, and my mom’s gonna be asking if we’re gonna get married soon or have kids and i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.”

“quinn, i know we’re going to get married.”

he raised an eyebrow. “what makes you think that?”

“you call me mrs. hughes in your sleep.”

quinn didn’t look back at her, just looking straight ahead.

“cat got your tongue?”

“shut up.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“jack, look.”

“she’s so pretty.”

“that’s our new sister.”

y/n’s eyes widen as she spotted them. she waved. quinn gave her a look that said “what are you doing?” until he followed her line of sight and saw his brothers. then, he frowned.

luke had a sign that said “welcome back from rehab!”

jack had a sign that said “just married! quinn & y/n”

“are you two serious?” he asked, getting jack in a headlock.

while those two fought like brothers do, luke hugged y/n. “i finally get a big sister.”

“quinn’s dated before, no?”

“yeah, but i can tell you’re the real thing.”

“thanks, luke.”

“c’mon, i’ll carry your stuff. mom and dad are waiting.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“welcome to casa hughes.” jack said, opening the door into his and luke’s apartment. “you two will be down the hall.”

quinn led y/n down to the spare room, where an air mattress had been set up.

“try not to use the closet, it’s storage,” luke said, peeping his head in.

“bye, luke.”

“bye, y/n.”

he closed the door, leaving the happy couple alone.

“this is quite the bachelor pad.”

“yeah, not all of us have amazing girlfriends with a penchant for peonies.”

“shame.”

they laid on the air mattress, on top of the dark blue sheets that smelled faintly of sweat.

“ready to meet my parents?”

“i’d like to fix my hair first.”

“i’m sure that can be arranged.”

she nestled a little closer to quinn. he wrapped his arms around her, like a teddy bear. “q, you’re so warm.”

“i aim to please.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

y/n was wearing a little black satin dress with black heels. her hair was in a cute updo, a silver pin holding it in place. in one hand was her purse, in the other was quinn’s hand. he was wearing his suit, the one he typically wore for gamedays.

“if you put that stupid beanie on your head, i’m dumping you and going back to vancouver.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“yeah, you’re right. luke would probably be my favorites hughes, thought.”

“that’s crossing a line.”

“love ya, q.”

“god, can you two save this for after dinner?” jack asked from behind the wheel.

“sorry, jacky.”

“thank goodness, we’re here,” luke muttered, getting out of the car.

quinn stepped out, then gave y/n his hand to help her out. he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“what a charmer.”

“i love you.”

inside the restaurant, jim and ellen were already waiting at a table. the kids joined them, luke sitting next to ellen and jack, quinn, and y/n on the other side of the table. ellen scanned y/n up and down before smiling.

“good job, quinn.”

“thanks, mom.” he was as red as a tomato.

“mrs. hughes, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you and mr. hughes. i have nothing but respect for you two and-”

“y/n, you don’t need to talk like that unless you’re about to tell us about your pregnancy.”

“pregnancy? mrs. hughes, i assure you that-”

“y/n, y/n, you’re okay. you can just call me ellen. jim and i already like you.”

“really?”

“did quinn not tell you?”

“no, he did.”

“i did.”

“the poor girl didn’t believe me.”

“she’s really nervous, mom.”

ellen turned back to y/n. “don’t be nervous. you’re the best girl out there for little quintin.”

“mom!”

“if things keep going the way they are, she’ll know your full name. they have to print it on marriage certificates.”

“we’re just taking things slow.”

the rest of dinner flowed with ease. quinn was thrilled to be back with his brothers. ellen and y/n swapped stories about quinn, like how he set off the smoke detectors making pizza when he was 12 and how he did the same thing just last tuesday. jim was impressed with y/n’s jazz knowledge and vice verse. she showed him pictures of her replica of miles davis’ moon and stars trumpet, the one she played during her jazz stint in new york.

“thank you for dinner, ellen.”

“thank you for taking care of my quinn. i haven’t seen the boy this happy since he got drafted.”

“i try my best.”

“you’ve really turned his life around, y/n. i’m so glad he’s stopped partying.”

“how do you know about that?”

“give it a few years. you’ll know too.”

“what do you mean?”

“moms always know.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“y/n, come to bed.”

“give me a second! someone can’t remember how to leave their sleeves facing the right way.”

“is that- is that my hoodie? from earlier?”

“… maybe.”

“baby, i wore that on the plane!”

“and? it smells like you.”

he opened his arms for her as she laid next to him. the blanket was tugged across the two of them, engulfing them in a warm cocoon.

“how did i get so lucky?”

“i ask that every day.”

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[fic-dumpster]

immiscible

Pairing: Cat hybrid!Sanzu x Hamster hybrid!Reader

Summary: You were not meant to be. Everything pointed to a disastrous outcome, but Haruchiyo Sanzu refused to let something as dumb as biology dictate his life. He wanted you and that was final.

CW: Hybrid AU, dubcon, PiV, oral (female receiving), mean Sanzu, possessiveness, typical cat behavior. Idk… lmk if I missed anything. Not edited and no beta.

Word count: 2.2K+

A.N: funny how this was inspired by Hamtaro and the pink panther. A very… unexpected crossover.

“Haru, stop bothering her!” Mikey’s voice boomed through the room for the third time.

You were hiding, again, under Mikey’s covers, attempting to stay as far away as possible from Sanzu who hadn’t been as welcoming as you were promised. You were told a good time awaited, but your current situation was not your definition of a good time.

Emma, Mikey’s sister and your owner, had to leave for a trip with her boyfriend and they left you under her brother’s care. You were against the idea, adamant about it. You cried and begged to be left alone or any other person available would do. But alas, nobody seemed to be able to besides Mikey.

Knowing the pink cat hybrid living under Mikey’s care was an ass, you knew It was a terrible idea. You were a rodent for crying out loud. A hamster hybrid. It was like trying to mix water and oil… an impossible task, and they expected you to share a living space with them for who knows how long.

Yes, you have been in Mikey’s place for less than four days and your life has been in danger more times than you can count.

Sanzu, the feline menace of this house, seemed to find joy in your little squeaks and chubby cheeks puffing even more every time he pawed at you; sending you back and forth to his entertainment. He was just doing that a second ago until you managed to escape and made a run for Mikey’s bed.

“Haru, let her go.” Mikey warned him with a stern voice, “she doesn’t like your games.”

Little did he know those weren’t just games for Sanzu. While you thought he wanted nothing more than to make a snack out of you, he had a whole other plan in mind.

Your small and round face peeked from under the covers and you instantly regretted your decision. Right there, looking straight at you with a wicked grin, was Sanzu. His green emerald eyes shined with mischief as he saw the scared look on your face.

“Ple-please, Haru… I-I do-don’t wanna play…” you stammered. Your heart beating wildly as you scurried deeper into the bed and away from the border where a crazed hybrid stood.

Have you ever tried to make a cat let go of his prey? Hardest thing to accomplish. Mikey knew that, but he also believed in his pet. Overall, Sanzu was harmless, according to Mikey. So when the only human in the room heard his pet hybrid promise to be civil. Well, Mikey believed him.

“I won’t do that again, I promise.”

To his credit, Sanzu didn’t chase you around anymore. There was no reason to run after something that was under his paw.

The first week passed by in a flash and you learned a few things. One of them was how Sanzu loved to see your attempts of scrambling away from him, whining every time he pulled your short puffy tail or yanked your whiskers. You saw the gratification on his face.

He would not leave you alone. So much so that he even gathered your things from the guest room and moved them to his. Mikey allowed such idea; believing in Sanzu’s excuse about hybrid bonding time or something.

Before bed, the cat hybrid would yank you against his warm body, wrap himself around you and nibble on your round ears; every time before bed it was the same, almost like a night routine. You would tremble under his arms, scared of becoming dinner if you made a wrong move.

Things got heated in the third week. Almost a month in and you had your fair share of questions about Sanzu’s behavior. He began to pin you down more often; growling and rubbing himself all over you. Grooming your neck and cheeks, for then to stay in that position for a while. Inhaling your scent and humming and purring in contempt.

Mikey just thought you two were finally getting along well and ignored whenever Sanzu dragged you into his room.

“Yeah, Emma. She’s doing fine. Haru is good company.” Mikey would always speak with reassuring words to his sister. Not lying, just telling his truth. “No need to take her to Takashi’s.”

As the phone conversation went on, in a different room your silent whines told a different story. The spiked tongue of Sanzu’s kept licking your skin, leaving it tender afterward.

“Heard that? You’re not going anywhere,” Sanzu rasped against your twitching ears.

The cat hybrid was ecstatic when he first heard the news from Mikey. You, the fragile little rodent, were going to stay with him? His prayers had been answered.

Sanzu couldn’t help himself, you were just too pretty for your own good. All shy and sweet with everyone else but him. You were a trembling mess whenever he prowled around you, his tail swiftly moving around your hips and legs got you squirming in place. He loved the special treatment you gave him.

The pink menace had begun to behave even weirder lately. Headbutts here and there, making biscuits on your tummy and chest which left you all hot and bothered, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. All smiles and hugs as your mind went from zero to a hundred in seconds. It all left you confused and dizzy at the end of the day.

For things to make sense something had to happen, right? Because such… affectionate behavior wasn’t normal. Well, a few days later when Mikey left to hang out with some friends; it did happen.

You heard a strange sound coming from Sanzu’s room. It was a very loud meowing, almost raw and it seemed painful; and as afraid of him as you were, you couldn’t just leave your only housemate alone if he was in pain.

With shaky steps, ears tuned in to the yowling, you made your way to his room. Stopping at the door, you saw your things still scattered around, but now a bunch of pillows and blankets also shared the space. As your eyes roamed through the room you finally spotted Sanzu. He was a sweating mess—pink hair sticking to his face, wild eyes unblinking and his face contorted in pain.

“Ha-haru? Are you ok—” But before you could say one more word, a strong scent invaded your nostrils.

It hit you with so much force that your eyes watered instantly. The smell was sweet; earthy and cinnamon-like but oh, so suffocating. You gagged and coughed at the burning sensation in your throat.

Suddenly, everything began to spin, but before your knees could hit the ground, you were swept off your feet. The sickly sweet smell surrounding you in waves—enveloping you whole. “S-stop! I ca-can’t brea-breath!”

“I knew you would come,” cooed Sanzu, completely ignoring your pleas.

He had you in his arms, carrying you towards the improvised nest made of blankets. Your body shivered, rejecting the aroma of a different hybrid. It was clear—compatibility? Null. Even your body’s biology refused to accept the idea of it.

Before you could gather your thoughts, you were being dropped on a soft surface and still, the potent scent kept mingling all your senses. Just as fast, he was on top of you; holding your hands above your head and leaning forward with his whole weight pressing down on you.

“You look so pretty… underneath me,” Sanzu sharply whispered against your temple. Nose caressing the border of your face as it traveled to your lips.

Nudging your legs apart with his knees, he nestled himself between them. Slowly but steadily grinding his hips against your clothed core. “You did this, you know? You made me go into heat, you little minx.”

“No! I didn’t know– didn’t mean to!” You whimpered—lips to lips, sharing the same air.

A whirlwind of thoughts passed through your mind. Guilt, fear, anger and… surprisingly lust. The more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body reacted. Your legs fastening around his waist, pulling Sanzu even closer which made the feline purr louder as your little squeaks mixed in between.

You felt the weight of his body—of his clothed cock constantly pressing on your entrance, humping, just rutting in place. Wetness had begun to creep in between your clothes

“We can’t do this, Ha-Haru…”

“You want me to stop?” Sanzu asked with clenched teeth but you shaked your head in denial, “Good, because I don’t think I would be able to…”

The feline eagerly pawed your clothes off, feeling a surge of giddiness born in his stomach. He was so close to you, he was finally touching every single part of you. Sanzu could practically taste the air charged with your arousal.

“You need me here,” he purred, lithe fingers dancing around your gushing entrance. “I’ll have a quick taste and you’re gonna be good and let me.”

Not soon had you felt his hands let go, ignoring his previous words, you tried to scramble away. On your hands and knees, you made a big mistake. Sanzu felt your cotton-like tail hit him in the face and it just made him latch onto you even harder. His hands grabbed your thighs, pulling you back and at the same time wrangling you back into your last position just to directly smash his face against your cunt.

A hollow scream erupted from your raw throat once you felt his tongue practically forcing its way in. His fingers digging into your skin, the force of his sucking lips and never had his tongue stopped moving inside you. You were ashamed to admit he felt too good, your bucking hips constantly hitting him but Sanzu didn't even notice. Too focused, too drunk on your hypnotic flavor.

A straight lick later and a moan of satisfaction from the pink feline had you in almost tears. “You were already wet enough, but I couldn't help myself. You’ve made me… a voracious beast.”

You felt his fingers open your lower lips, heat radiating from your center smearing his digits. You don't know when or how he discarded his own clothes but as your eyes refocused, you saw his skin almost glowing, radiating scorching warmth on top of you. Unhurriedly, Sanzu guided his cock inside, stretching your opening to mold him, to take him. You were so soft, so warm that it almost hurt with how sensitive his tip was.

“I promise to—fuck… aah— mount you properly next time,” he growled at the thought of having you—ass up squeaking for him again, “but I need to see your cute face right now.”

Sanzu hissed at the contact and gave a final push of his hips; entering you with force. In return, your face contorted at the intrusion, you were a squealing mess under him. The sudden action wasn’t as pleasant as the previous activity. Your insides burned as your walls tried to push the foreign object out. But Sanzu persisted, holding you in place as he slowly retracted and moved back in. Inch by inch of his cock with no hurry.

He repeated this action until he felt almost no restraint on your part. Your cute little cunt had finally gotten used to him. He went in and out smoothly and your sounds had changed to mewls and puffs of air—full of need. Your hands traveled from his chest to his shoulders, no longer trying to stop him. On the contrary, you were pulling him in, scraping his neck with a sudden need to have him closer.

The feline purred loudly as he absorbed the change in your demeanor. Your half-lidded eyes were calling to him. His words failed him, he couldn’t even tell you how good you felt. All that left his lips were groans and beastly sounds.

“Fa-faster, Haru!” You moaned out without shame. Gone was the timid little rodent.

His chest reverberated once again, an instant answer to your plea. His tail moving wildly behind him, his ear twitching at the sound of your voice. All his body automatically responded to your calling.

His hips hitting you with abandon. Your pussy lips are swollen from the constant friction.

“M-mine.” He heaved with furrowed brows; fingers gripping tightly at your soft and plush skin.

Sanzu wasn’t even sure he was speaking out loud, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of finally being buried deep in your heat. Nothing could take him away from you.

─────── · · ·

“Get your furry fiend away from her!” Emma was a red from rage, “Manjiro Sano! I am serious!

“He doesn't wanna let go!” Mikey looked over at his friend, Emma’s boyfriend, for help, “Ken-Chin, tell her!”

Meanwhile, Sanzu with flattened ears and a swatting tail had you under his body; hissing menacingly at the three humans trying to take away his mate.

Of course, you had tried to explain but your meek voice wasn't heard in the middle of all the shouting.