#the hardest decision of your life so far
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lovejosephquinn · 1 month ago
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cannot sleep yet again so let’s play a game of fmk. send me your answers in the comments or to my inbox
i’m adding four options in for the extra drama of spicy decision making 😵‍💫
kiss, fuck, marry, kill:
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creativepromptsforwriting · 2 months ago
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Drabble List #12
75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.
"Everyone should be delighted to know me."
"Tick tock, the clock is ticking."
"What a fantastic idea!"
"Not going to destroy the world or anything."
"You're awful at solving riddles."
"That was a poor decision."
"Do you really think you can handle the truth?"
"I never thought I'd see you again."
"Why did you lie to me?"
"This isn't the end, it's just the beginning."
"You promised you'd never leave."
"There's more to this story than you know."
"I'm not the hero you think I am."
"Sometimes, doing the right thing means making tough choices."
"If you walk away now, don't bother coming back."
"I've kept this secret for far too long."
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"
"They'll never believe us, but we have to try."
"I can't believe you just said that."
"No one else knows, and it has to stay that way."
"Do you trust me?"
"We can't let them win."
"You have no idea what you're getting into."
"This changes everything."
"I thought I knew you."
"I've waited my whole life for this moment."
"You were the last person I expected to see."
"Why does it always have to be you?"
"We're running out of time."
"Do you think they suspect anything?"
"I've made up my mind."
"This isn't what I signed up for."
"How can you be so sure?"
"We can't afford any mistakes."
"You can't keep running away from your past."
"What are we supposed to do now?"
"Sometimes, the hardest thing is to let go."
"You know this isn't right."
"What are you hiding from me?"
"We have to stick together."
"I'm not giving up on you."
"There's no turning back now."
"I never wanted any of this."
"What if we don't have a choice?"
"It's time to face the music."
"You have to trust your instincts."
"Everything we've worked for is at stake."
"I didn't expect you to understand."
"This is our only shot."
"I'm not interested anymore."
"You owe me an explanation."
"We can't do this alone."
"I thought you were on my side."
"This is bigger than both of us."
"What do you have to lose?"
"I can't pretend anymore."
"You're not as invisible as you think."
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"You're the only one who can help."
"We need to be careful."
"Are you with me?"
"No, this is enough."
"I don't think I can do this."
"Ok, so sue me."
"What a fine young man."
"This isn't about you."
"I know what I have to do."
"We need to find a way out."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's not as simple as it seems."
"I can't believe it's come to this."
"This isn't over yet."
"What's the plan?"
"Take me to court."
"There's no easy answer."
Drabble Masterlist
Have fun creating and writing!
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lupinqs · 2 months ago
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LOVE ACTUALLY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader
𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: you and paige spend christmas together with your families.
𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 5.5K
𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: brief allusions to sex but really just pure fluff
𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist
𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: i wrote this when i was drunk out of my mind and i did not proofread so take that as you will. anyways merry christmas!
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IT’S CHRISTMAS MORNING in Connecticut, the soft hush of snow outside only adding to the cozy warmth inside your childhood home. You and Paige flew in a couple days ago, grateful to spend the holiday surrounded by both of your families. Paige’s dad and her little brother, Drew, made the trip from Maryland, too, making it all the more homier.
The last year and a half has been a whirlwind. Moving across the country to Dallas was one of the hardest decisions you’ve ever made—graduating from UConn and then immediately leaving behind your friends, family, and everything familiar to follow Paige as she chased her WNBA dreams. At the time, you weren’t sure if it was the right choice. But now, as you think about the life you’ve built together, you know it was worth every bit of uncertainty. You’ve got a great job, a cozy little apartment in Dalls, and Paige has already had two incredible seasons in the W. She’s thriving, and so are you, and being here now, with your families under one roof, feels like the perfect reminder of how far you’ve both come.
The two of you are curled up in your childhood bedroom, the soft hints of morning light glinting against the light pink walls. Paige’s bare skin is against yours, her arm draped possessively over your waist, her hand resting firmly on your hip. Your cheek is pressed against her shoulder, and you can feel her slow, steady breaths as they rise and fall beneath you. Everything about this moment feels so peaceful, so perfect, that you can’t help but linger in it.
Paige shifts slightly beneath you, and her fingers tighten their hold, pulling you closer. You tilt your head up to find her already looking down at you, blue eyes still heavy with sleep but soft with that familiar adoration that always makes your chest tighten. Her lips curve into a small, sleepy smile.
“Merry Christmas,” she murmurs, her voice husky and warm, roughened by sleep in a way that sends a shiver through you.
You smile back at her, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder as you reply, “Merry Christmas.”
She leans down to kiss you, and it’s slow and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the way the two of you are easing into the morning. Her lips are soft against yours, her hand moving from your hip to your ass, squeezing gently as she deepens the kiss. Your body reacts instinctively, shifting closer, and Paige takes the opportunity to guide you over her, her hands steady on your waist as she pulls you to straddle her.
Her hands roam lazily over you, mapping the familiar terrain of your body as if she’s memorizing it all over again. The feel of her palms on your bare skin sends warmth pooling in your stomach, and your breath bitches when her fingers trail power, brushing against your inner thigh.
It’s enough to send your mind flashing back to last night, when Paige had you biting into your pillow to keep quiet, fucking you in a way that was far from appropriate with both of your families in the house, in the rooms just next door. It was reckless, but neither of you cared much in the moment. And judging by the way her fingers swipe teasingly at your clit now, she’s not feeling particularly concerned this morning, either.
A gasp escapes your lips, and Paige smiles against your mouth, her tongue sweeping in to claim yours in a kiss that’s deeper and more demanding. Just as her fingers begin to circle your clit lightly, the door knob rattles sharply, accompanied by Drew’s unmistakable voice.
“Why is the door locked? Wake up! We’re opening presents!”
The two of you freeze, and then Paige groans in frustration, pulling away reluctantly. She tilts her head back against the pillows, her hand coming up to drag across her face as she yells back, “We’re comin’! Go downstairs, we’ll be down in a sec!”
There’s a pause, then the sound of Drew retreating down the hall. Paige drops her head back to look at you, her expression equal parts annoyed and amused. “Always interrupting,” she mutters, leaning in to steal another slow, languid kiss.
You smile against her lips, your hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face. “We gotta get up,” you say softly, though you make no effort to move just yet.
She sighs, her arms wrapping around you to pull you closer for a moment longer. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, her lips brushing the corner of your mouth.
Eventually, the two of you untangle yourselves, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed to retrieve the matching Christmas pajamas Paige insisted on buying. Hers are just slightly too big, the waistband of the red plaid pants hanging low on her hips as she pulls on the soft cotton shirt. She tosses you your pair, watching with a lazy grin as you shimmy into them.
By the time you’re both dressed, Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close for one last kiss before heading downstairs. When you get down there, the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of Christmas music fills the air. Your families are gathered around the tree, Bob offering you both a warm smile, your parents calling you cheerful “Merry Christmases” from the couch.
Drew has taken his role as gift sorter very seriously, picking up each package, reading the tags with exaggerated importance, and then delivering them to their respective piles like he’s Santa himself. You and Paige sit side by side on the floor, leaning into each other, your thighs pressing together as you watch. Her hand rests on top of yours, brushing her thumb over your knuckles, and it makes your heart swell.
Your older brother lounges beside you, watching Drew in amusement. His grin slowly shifts into something cheeky, though, as his gaze lands on you and Paige. He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Late night?” he asks, eyes glinting with mischief as they flick to the faint circles under your eyes.
Your cheeks flame instantly, and you seat at him, whispering sharply, “Shut up!”
He laughs, lea no no away just in time to avoid your second hit. “Hey, just sayin’,” he teases, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You both look a little… tired.”
Paige smirks beside you, clearly trying not to laugh, but you nudge her with your elbow, giving her a pointed look. She quickly schools her expression, though the amusement in her eyes is impossible to miss.
Your head snaps toward the couch, where your parents and Bob are chatting, thankfully oblivious to the exchange. You exhale in relief, shooting your brother a glare that promises retribution later.
Eventually, Drew claps his hands together dramatically. “Done!” he declares, plopping down onto the floor next to his own gut pile.
Your mom beams. “Stockings first!” she says, already reaching for her phone to start taking pictures.
Everyone does as she says, reaching for their stockings. You sift through yours, pulling out chocolates, fuzzy socks, and a cute little keychain your mom must have picked out. Paige grins as she pulls out a gift card, showing it to you like it’s a trophy. Drew’s stocking is filled with candy, which he immediately starts eating, and your dad jokes about how he gets socks every year without fail.
Your mom takes picture after picture and you roll your eyes in amusement as she pointedly tells you to smile wider for the photos.
Once the stockings are emptied, it’s time for the real gifts. The family settles into a rhythm, taking turns opening gifts. You and your brother exchange gag gifts that leave you both laughing, shaking your heads. When it’s Drew’s turn, you can’t help but feel smug as he opens your gift—a limited-edition jersey—and immediately declares it his favorite, much to Paige’s offense. She pouts dramatically, muttering, “I tried so hard,” which only makes you grin wider at her.
Her moment of redemption comes soon enough, though. Paige’s gift to your mom—one of those electronic picture frames that flashes different photos of your family—earns a gasp of delight. Your mom’s eyes shine as she hugs it to her chest, turning to Paige with a heartfelt, “Oh my gosh, Paige, sweetie!” She leans down to kiss Paige’s head, and you catch the faint blush on Paige’s cheeks. Your heart swells as you watch her fit so seamlessly into your family.
When Paige opens your first gift to her, you watch nervously as she opens the shoes she’s been eyeing for weeks. “Babe,” she groans, clearly thrilled but half-scolding you for indulging her obsession. You roll your eyes, telling her she deserves them, even if they barely have room in your already shoe-filled apartment.
Her second present from you is a new pair of Airpods, which were more of a last minute thing since she lost her pair on the flight here. She thanks you, knowing she needed them.
The last gift is the one you were just excited to give: a framed collection of her college jersey behind a collage of photos from her UConn career, the biggest one being of her holding up the natty trophy. There’s a handwritten note in the back of it, telling you how proud you are of her. You can’t take all the credit for it, though, as Nika helped you with a lot of it when she was visiting you and Paige in Dallas a few weeks ago. Paige’s eyes mist over as she stares at it, and she leans over to press a firm kiss to your temple, whispering how much she loves you in your ear.
Paige’s gifts to you are just as thoughtful. She starts with handing you a small box. You open it and gasp—they’re a pair of diamond earrings—actually, the pair of diamond earrings—you’d fawned over at some event you attended with Paige, where there had been a ton of different jewelry displays. “Shit,” you murmur, fingers ghosting over the diamonds. You’d seen the price tag on it, you know how expensive they were. You lean your head on Paige’s shoulder, saying, “Thank you, P.”
She grins before handing you your next one—a weekend getaway to a cabin in the Pacific Northwest. You’ve talked about wanting to go so many times, jokingly telling her you want to live out your Twilight dreams, and now here you are.
“Paige,” you whisper, staring at the printout of the reservation.
“You’ve been stressed,” she says simply, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You deserve this.”
The room falls quiet as you hug Paige tightly, everyone sifting through their opened gifts, satisfied. You think all the gifs have been opened, so you settle back, too, but then Paige’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Wait,” she says, her smile lighting up her face. “You’ve got one more.”
You narrow your eyes at her, exasperated. “Paige,” you groan, knowing she’s already gone overboard.
“Chill,” she laughs, waving off your protest. She gestures toward your brother. “Come help me.”
Confused, you watch as your brother jumps up eagerly, everyone else around the room exchanging knowing, excited smiles. You start to stand, too, but Paige shakes her head, her grin widening. “Stay here,” she tells you. “Be patient, babe.”
You sit back down, bewildered, as Paige and your brother disappear into the basement. Everyone else seems to be in on whatever this is, and you try to piece together the surprise, but you’re left empty-handed.
A few minutes pass before your brother and Paige finally emerge back from the basement. You immediately notice Cooper, your family’s golden retriever, darting ahead of them. His nails click against the hardwood floor as he bursts into the living room, tail wagging so hard it looks like it might propel him into the air. He’s a whirlwind of energy, bounding straight for Drew, who’s still sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper. Drew laughs, trying to push Cooper’s snout away as he eagerly licks at his face. The dog is clearly thrilled to finally be apart of the action after being booted to the basement during gifts because he was too hyper.
Your focus shifts back to Paige, who’s holding a large box in her arms. She’s being careful with it, her steps deliberate as she sets it down in the middle of the floor, a few feet away from you. The grin on her face is impossible to miss—it’s a mixture of pride, excitement, and something that feels almost mischievous.
Your eyes narrow immediately. “What is it?” you ask, suspicious.
“You see,” Paige replies, her tone teasing as she kneels beside the box. Her hands rest on the top of it, and she’s clearly holding back a laugh at the confusion on your face.
Your gaze darts to your brother, who’s leaning casually against the couch with a smirk. You turn back to your girlfriend, your suspicion growing. “Paige,” you say, dragging her name out. “If this is a prank…”
Paige gasps in mock offense, her blue eyes wide. “A prank? On Christmas? Would I do that to you?”
“Yes,” you deadpan, which earns a round of laughter from your family.
“Just open it,” Paige says, brushing off your sarcasm with a grin and a roll of your eyes.
You hesitate, shifting on the floor as you inch closer to the box. Something about it feels… odd. It’s big, but not heavy enough to be something truly large. And when you look closer, you think you see it move. Your breath catches, and you tilt your head, trying to hear.
You think you catch a noise.
Your heart starts to race as you reach for the kid, glancing at Paige one more time. “I swear to God,” you say, eyeing her.
“Just trust me!” she says, laughing now. Her eyes gleam, and her grin is so wide.
You lift off the lid, and for a second, you just stare.
Then, your entire face lights up.
“Wait, oh my God!” you exclaim, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Inside the box is a tiny golden retriever puppy, his fur soft and fluffy, his bright eyes blinking up at you curiously. He has a red bow tied snugly around his neck, and he’s pawing at the edge of the box, already eager to escape.
You don’t hesitate—you reach in and scoop him up, cradling him in your arms as he wriggles excitedly. He’s warm and small, his paws pressing against your chest as he stretches up to lick your face. His little tail wags furiously, and you can’t stop laughing as he covers you in emphatic kisses.
“Paige!” you gasp, still laughing as the puppy snuggles into your neck. “Oh my God! Are you serious?”
“Surprise,” she says, her grin impossibly wide. She looks proud, and there’s a soft warmth in her gaze as she watches you hold the puppy like he’s the most precious thing in the world.
“I can’t—I—” you stutter, voice cracking slightly. Tears well up in your eyes as you hold the puppy close, his little head resting against your shoulder. “You really got us a puppy?”
Paige nods, sitting back on her heels. “I know how much you been wantin’ one,” she says softly. “So… he’s ours now.”
You blink back tears, your heart full as you look down at the tiny ball of fur in your arms. He lets out a soft tip and nuzzles closer to you, and you can’t stop smiling. “What’s his name?” you ask.
“Maverick,” Paige replies. “But I’ve been calling him Mav.”
“Maverick,” you repeat, testing it. It feels perfect, like it was meant for him.
You look back at Paige, your eyes shining. “When did you have time to do this?”
“They helped me,” Paige explains, gesturing to your mom and brother. “The day we got here, we went to pick him out while you went last-minute shopping. He’s been in the basement ever since, hanging out with Cooper and our brothers.”
Your mom smiles warmly from her spot on the couch. “It was all P’s idea,” she says. “She was so excited about it—she couldn’t stop talking about how much you’d love him.”
Your heart swells as you look at Paige, who’s trying to act nonchalant but is clearly basking in the praise. You lean over, the puppy still nestled in your arms, and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” you whisper.
Paige smirks, though there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I know,” she says playfully, earning a soft hit to her arm from you.
The rest of the morning is a blur of excitement. Maverick becomes the center of attention immediately, with everyone wanting to hold him or pet him. Even Cooper seems thrilled about the new addition, sniffling bum curiously and then wagging his tail like he’s just made a new best friend.
But no matter how much everyone else tries to steal Mav’s attention, he keeps coming back to you and Paige. Like he belongs there. Which, you suppose, he does now.
THE SNOW FALLS steadily, blanketing the night in a soft, shimmering layer of white. The world feels hushed, as though the snow has pressed pause on everything else, leaving just you, Paige, and Maverick in your one little bubble. Your boots crunch against the snow-covered sidewalk as you tuck yourself closer into Paige’s side, desperate for any warmth you can find against the freezing cold. The icy air nips at your nose and cheeks, and your breath puffs out in visible clouds.
“I cannot believe you dragged me out here,” you grumble, your teeth chattering as another gust of wind cuts through your coat. “It’s Christmas night. It’s freezing. Who does this?”
Paige just grins, looking entirely unbothered by the cold. “You’ve lived here your whole life,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she gives you a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Suck it up. You’re supposed to be used to this.”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve gotten used to the Dallas heat,” you retort, because you have. Grumbling again, you burrow yourself deeper into your scarf.
Paige just laughs, reaching down to adjust Maverick’s leash as he bounds happily ahead of you, his tiny paws kicking up little sprays of snow. His golden coat gleams under the soft glow of the streetlights, and his tail wags furiously as he sniffs at the snowbanks on either end of the sidewalk.
“Look at him,” Paige says, gesturing to the puppy with a grin. “Look how happy he is. How could you not wanna be out here with him?”
You glance down at Mav, who’s clearly having the time of his life. You sigh, conceding the point. “Fine,” you mumble, pulling your coat tighter around you as you watch him hop through the snow like it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced.
The three of you continue down the street, the cold biting at your exposed skin, until you reach the town square just a block down from your house. It’s quiet and empty, just as you’d expected, but it’s so beautiful and familiar that you can’t bring yourself to complain anymore.
The little shops lining the square are all decorating for the holidays, their windows glowing warmly against the night. Twinkling lights are strung from lamppost to lamppost, and garlands of evergreen and red ribbon add a festive touch to the storefronts. The snow falls steadily, coating everything in a pristine layer of white, and for a moment, you feel like you’ve stepped into a scene from a Hallmark movie.
You glance over at Paige, and the sight of her bundled up in her coat and beanie, snowflakes caught in her golden hair, makes your heart squeeze. She looks over at you and grins, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
“Worth it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
You huff, but you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Maybe.”
She smirks, clearly pleased with herself, and gives Maverick’s leash a gentle tug to redirect him as he tries to nose his way into yet another snowbank. The three of you wander through the square until you reach the massive Christmas tree in the center. It’s a towering evergreen, wrapped in thousands of white and gold lights that cast a warm, inviting glow over the snow.
Paige slows to a stop near the tree, and you glance over at her, your breath catching slightly at the look on her face. She’s smiling softly, but there’s an unfamiliar nervousness—almost vulnerability—that overcasts her expression, making your heart stutter.
“What?” you ask softly as you tilt your head at her.
She steps closer, her gloved pinky brushing against yours before hooking around it gently. “This is where we first met,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost hesitant. “Remember?”
Of course you remember. How could you ever forget?
It had been five years ago, during one of those rare weekends when you’d been home from school in December. You’d been wandering the square with a fresh hot chocolate in hand, trying to find a Christmas gift for your mom. The snow had been falling just like it is now, and you’d been heading to the little jewelry shop on the corner when someone had barreled straight into your chest, spilling your drink all over you—and them.
That someone had been Paige.
You’d recognized her immediately, of course. Every student at UConn knew who she was—Paige Bueckers, the basketball sensation, the phenom. You were a freshman, she a sophomore, and you’d yet to see her on campus your entire first semester. But there you were then, seeing her in person for the first time, in—of all places—your coastal little hometown. It was the last thing you’d ever expected.
She’d been mortified, stumbling over herself as she apologizes and offered to buy you a new hot chocolate. You’d tried to brush it off, but she’d insisted, dragging you back to the little café to get a replacement. The two of you ended up talking while you waited for it, and when she found out you went to UConn, her eyes had lit up.
Somehow—still to this day, you’re not entirely sure how—she’d managed to get your number before you left. The next week, you’d hung out on campus for the first time. And from there, it had been history.
Now, five years later, you’re standing in the exact same spot, under the glow of the exact same Christmas tree, with the snow falling around you just like it had that day.
Your chest feels tight as you look at her, taking in the way the snowflakes catch in her hair, the way her blue eyes shine against the cold. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts.
“Of course I remember,” you whisper, your breath fogging up in the cold air.
You watch as Paige takes a little breath, her chest rising and falling as she glances down at the snow-covered ground. Her lips part, but no words come out right away. Her hands fidget slightly with Maverick’s leash, and the Paige Bueckers standing before you—this soft, nervous version of her—is such a stark contrast to the confident and often-times annoying girl you’re so used to seeing.
You tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, voice barely audible over the soft crunch of Mav’s paws in the snow.
But she shakes her head, glancing back at you with what might just be the softest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s disarming, and your breath catches in your throat a little at it. “I have another gift for you,” she murmurs.
You blink at her. “Paige, no,” you protest immediately, a small huff escaping your lips. She’s already gotten you more than enough—between the thoughtful, expensive presents she gave you earlier and the effort she’s put into making this Christmas perfect, you feel spoiled.
But Paige just shakes her head again, her smile widening just slightly as she takes a step closer, reaching for your gloved hands. You don’t resist as she pulls them out of your pockets and wraps her own around them, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric. Maverick’s leash rests between both of your palms, the two of you holding him together.
“Stop,” she says softly, her voice almost teasing but laced with something deeper. “It’s fine. It’s just—this one’s a little… different than the others, ‘kay?”
Your brows furrow a little, still confused. There’s something in her expression—something hesitant and vulnerable, almost like she’s unsure of herself—and it makes your chest stumble. Slowly, you step closer, your eyes boring into hers as you whisper, “P, I don’t know what more you can give me. You’ve already given me everything.”
She lets out a breath at that, exhaling slowly. “Not everything,” she murmurs, eyes downcast.
You tilt your head in question, half-lost. “What d’you mean?”
Paige takes another deep breath, her hands tightening around yours just slightly. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, and you can see her trying to gather her thoughts, her blue eyes darting away from yours and then back again.
“Okay, um…” she starts, her voice faltering a little before she lets out a nervous laugh. “I—I don’t really know how to say this, because I’ve been thinkin’ about this for so long, had it all prepared, but now that we’re actually here, it’s—it’s all just kinda gone away…”
Your heart is pounding now, your stomach twisting in anticipation. Paige is rarely like this—stuttering, stumbling over her words—and the fact that she is has you hanging on her every syllable.
She shifts her weight, glancing down at the snow-covered ground for a moment before looking back up at you. Her cheeks are even more pink than before, whether that be from the cold or nerves, and the look in her gaze makes your throat tighten.
“I love you,” she says finally, her voice steady now despite the nervous energy radiating off of her. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I can’t—I can’t even imagine a version of my life where you’re not in it. You’re—you’re my best friend, my person, my everything. And every time I think about the future, it’s you, always you. Every single time.”
Your breath catches, and you think your eyes begin to swim, though you’re not even entirely sure why yet. You squeeze her hands lightly, trying to reassure her even though you’re the one suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
“I want to do this forever with you,” Paige continues, her voice growing softer with each word. “I want every Christmas with you, every family gathering, every walk with Mav. I want you to be there for all my big moments, and I want to be there for all of yours. I just—I want you. Forever. And I don’t wanna wait anymore to tell you that.”
She lets go of one of your hands then, reaching into the pocket of her coat. For a second, you’re confused, your heart hammering in your chest as you watch her movements, and then—
Oh.
Oh.
Time seems to stop as Paige pulls a small, velvet box from her pocket and drops to one knee in the snow. Your eyes widen, your breath freezing in your chest as you stare down at her, completely locked in place.
She flips the box open, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. It’s simple yet stunning, a perfect match for you in every way, and the sight of it sends a rush of emotions flooding through you.
“Baby,” Paige says, her voice trembling slightly as she looks up at you with the most earnest expression you’ve ever seen. “Will you marry me?”
Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure she can hear it, and your eyes are completely flooded now.
Paige stays kneeling there, her gaze locked on yours, and she looks so hopeful, so full of love, that it takes your breath away. The world around you seems to blur, the snow falling softly around you and the glow of the Christmas tree lighting up the moment like something almost out of a dream.
You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at her as the weight of what’s happening finally settles over you. Paige Bueckers—the girl who spilled hot chocolate on you five years ago, who turned your entire world upside down without even trying—is asking you to spend the rest of your life with her.
The words catch in your throat, tangled between a sob and a laugh, as you finally come to your senses. Your lips tremble, your heart racing faster than ever, and then it all bursts out at once. “Yes,” you choke, voice breaking. “Fuck, yes. Of course, baby.”
Paige lets out something between a laugh and a sob of her own, her grin so wide it’s almost silly. Her eyes are glistening with tears, matching yours, and for a moment, you’re both just staring at each other like you can’t quite believe this is real.
And then you move.
Instead of waiting for her to stand, you drop down into the snow with her, no longer caring about the cold or the fact that your pants are already damp. Your hands find her face as you crash your lips into hers, kissing her so deeply, so passionately, that it feels like your chest might explode from everything you’re feeling.
Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer as the snow falls softly around you, your noses brushes and your tears mingling between the kiss. It’s emotional and raw and maybe the most meaningful kiss you’ve ever shared, the kind that feels like a promise all on its own.
When you finally pull back, breathless and overwhelmed, Paige presses her forehead against yours. Her eyes shine cerulean, her cheeks streaked with tears, but she’s smiling like she’s never been happier in her life. She presses one, two, three quick pecks to your lips, her grin only widening with each one.
You laugh softly, your heart still racing, and then she’s reaching for your left hand, gently tugging your glove off. Her fingers tremble slightly as she takes the ring from its box, sliding it onto your finger with the utmost care.
It fits perfectly.
Paige leans down, brushing her lips against the ring on your finger like it’s the most sacred thing she’s ever touched. “Perfect,” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of awe.
And then, suddenly, Maverick bounds into the moment, pouncing between you and Paige with all the enthusiasm of a puppy who has no idea what’s just happened but is thrilled to be a part of it. His nose nudges your hand, and you both laugh as his tongue flicks out, licking the shiny new ring before jumping up to cover Paige’s face in kisses, too.
“Okay, okay!” Paige laughs, trying to fend him off but not really putting much effort into it. You giggle, reaching out to scratch behind his ears before pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
Paige skips her arm around your neck, tugging you close again. Her voice is soft but teasing as she murmurs, “Now I can finally call you my wife, and no one can complain ‘bout it.”
You roll your eyes, though your smile betrays how giddy you feel. “Still not your wife,” you correct, holding up your hand to show off the ring. “Fiancée.”
Paige just shakes her head stubbornly, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers, “Nah. Wife.”
And then she’s kissing you again, her lips warm against yours despite the chill in the air. Mav paws at both of you, trying to squeeze himself into the moment like he doesn’t want to be let out, and you laugh against Paige’s lips, your heart so full it might burst.
Because there, in the snow, at the very spot where you first met five years ago, the world feels impossibly small and endlessly vast all at once. This is a new beginning—the two of you, Maverick, and the life you’re going to build together. It’s the start of your family, the start of everything that comes next, and as Paige kisses you again, with snowflakes catching in her lashes and Mav pawing at your side, you realize with a sneaky feeling that love actually is—all around.
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fic-dumpster · 2 months ago
Text
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.
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“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.
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atzloverr · 19 days ago
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(Don’t) sing to me - Siren!Seonghwa x reader
pairings: Siren!Seonghwa x pirate!reader
warnings: Siren!Seonghwa, cunnilingus, emotional manipulation, hypnosis, non-con, afab!reader, slight yandere, mentions of blood and gore, purely fiction, captivity, kidnapping, why is Seonghwa always pussy drunk in these
minors DNI
You threw your head around, panic fogging your mind. The only thing you saw was the blood, the dead bodies, the open wound on your own thigh.
You couldn’t tell if it was the loss of blood or the sheer weight of the situation that made you so dizzy that you could barely walk straight when you tried to make it to the safe place of the ship. You saw your captain, lying bloody, trying to reach out for you, but you had to look away.
In these situations, you had to save yourself, you knew that. That’s why you felt so stupid when you turned around to help the poor man.
You had never planned to become a pirate, but when you were abandoned and the crew seemed to find you right when you needed them most, you couldn’t help but accept the offer.
When things like this would happen, you almost regretted your decision. Although you had been in these situations before, it had never been this brutal. You mourned the men you had lost so far, but you feared the amount of men lost in this raid would be double the amount you had in your entire life on this ship.
You tried to keep yourself focused on the task at hand, keeping your captain alive. Hongjoong had always told you that we lived in a cruel world, and the most important thing was always going to be to save yourself. That might’ve been the reason for him silently fighting you when you tried to dress his deep wounds.
He couldn’t even utter a word, but his eyes said it all. Save yourself, or you will get us both killed.
But you ignored him, and kept trying to stop his bleeding, wincing when you felt your own wound sting.
You managed to somewhat stop the bleeding, before dragging him to the safe room. He wasn’t heavy, but with your current injuries, pulling his body felt like the hardest mission you had ever encountered.
You were more than happy to find other people in the room, although they were all injured. Well, all except one. The one person everyone had to keep alive: the doctor.
Yunho ran up to you with his eyebrows furrowed, looking you up and down as you collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall. You watched as someone else carefully picked up Hongjoong, bringing him to safety.
”Are you crazy?” Yunho asked, grabbing your face harshly to get your attention. You looked down, but felt too tired to even apologize. You knew he was thankful, whether he would admit it or not. Everyone knew that Hongjoong was the most important person on this ship, and anyone would’ve gladly sacrificed you to keep him alive, they just didn’t want to admit it.
You watched as Yunho used his medical tools, your vision slowly getting darker as you leaned your head against the wall, that almost seemed like a soft pillow right now.
”Hey!” Yunho suddenly slapped you lightly on your cheek. ”You need to stay awake, you hear me!?” he said. You felt warm in your chest when you saw the worry in his eyes. It felt nice to know that someone wanted to keep you alive.
You slowly nodded at his earlier question. ”You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Yunho said, probably just talking to keep you from falling asleep. ”Listen, you have to stay strong.”
You listened to him as he took your hand in his. ”They’re still lurking around here, and we have to make sure that we can go up against them,” he informed.
Right, you thought. The only reason he’s keeping you alive is so you can fight, so you can keep everyone safe, keep Hongjoong safe. You frowned, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of a harsh bang on the door.
The room froze, everyone’s eyes flying towards the door. You saw the large axe that had managed to get through the thick door, and it was like you knew. You knew that this was it, you were going to die.
You were all going to die.
You felt Yunho’s arms pick you up, making you wince quietly in pain as you were reminded of the big wound on your leg. Another bang was heard, this time with the sound of loud male voices.
There were more of them now. You desperately wanted to stay strong, but you couldn’t even stop your eyes from watering in fear when you heard the third and last bang before the door fell to the floor.
You watched the countless armed men fill the room, slaughtering the already weak people. Yunho quickly put you on your feet again, but you could barely even stand. You watched in panic as Yunho did what you should’ve probably expected him to.
He went to Hongjoong.
You couldn’t help but feel an ounce of betrayal. Yunho had been the first person you ever really made friends with on this ship, so seeing him so effortlessly pick Hongjoong over you, it hurt.
You grabbed your knife, fiercly trying to get through the crowd of people, but it was terrifying. You heard the most gut wrenching screams from your crew members, saw blood splattering out of another pirate’s chest as you stabbed him without mercy.
But you never stopped moving. You never stopped moving until you saw an opening. You decided that this was going to be the time when you really took Hongjoong’s advice, so you saved yourself.
You ran out on deck, even as your wound reopened and you screamed louder than ever before, you knew what you had to do.
Sure, the water would be cold, sure, you would leave your entire crew when you might’ve been able to fight more for them, but you didn’t care. You simply saved yourself.
And if you were going to die - which it felt like when the ice-cold water met your skin and its salt seeped into your wound - you were at least going to die here, not by some ruthless pirate stabbing you to death.
You swam and swam, but noticed that you hadn’t even gotten very far. You felt your legs starting to give out, your head getting foggier and foggier for every second, until your body finally started sinking down.
You didn’t fight it, you didn’t scream. You let yourself succumb to the sweetness of death, and right before the darkness came, you heard the sound of a beautiful song, almost hypnotic. You were satisfied that the last thing you would hear before you finally died would be this angelic voice, soft enough to finally allow you to let go of the tiny bit of hope that you had tried so hard to hold on to.
˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺。°
The moment he laid his eyes on your face, he knew you were the perfect prey. As you finally stopped resisting him, finally accepting your fate, he knew you were going to be perfect.
His turquoise fins shimmered in the moonlight, enough to make any sailor turn his head.
He watched as your chest slowly rose and fell, smiling at the fact that his magic had worked, even when he feared it was too late. His fingers traced your lips - that were starting to turn blue from the immense cold - and he made sure his long fingernails didn’t graze your fragile skin.
In the long hours of silently observing you, Seonghwa thought to himself that he had learned so much about you from simply looking at your sleeping form.
The harsh skin of your palms, slightly burned from having handled rope on the ship, the dangling jewelry hanging from your pierced ears, and the thing that made him whimper in worry: a large wound on your thigh, so filthy and deep that it made him wince.
He knew his healing could work to some extent, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle this. But that’s what he spent the rest of your unconscious hours on. Trying to heal you completely.
He used his precious saliva to clean your wound carefully, its powers slowly healing the injury. He continued his sweet singing, keeping you lulled in a peaceful sleep.
But now that he had healed you best to his abilities, he just lay there next to you in his small cave, watching you peacefully rest.
As much as he adored watching you, he couldn’t help but feel worried. Why weren’t you waking up? Hadn’t his magic worked properly?
He tried shaking you, tickling you, pinching you, and his favorite method - kissing you awake. But none of it seemed to work.
To Seonghwa, it felt as if several days had passed since he found you by the ship, but in reality, it might’ve not been more than one.
Due to his concerns, he always stayed by your side, dipping into the water ever so often to hydrate his fins, but soon returned to slowly run his long nails through your wet and salty hair, watching your expression closely, begging for you to wake up.
˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺。°
You acknowledged the fact that you were aware, that you were still feeling things, experiencing things. And although you would’ve been ecstatic about it at any other given moment, considering you were sure you had died, you couldn’t help but feel tired.
Hadn’t you accepted the fact that you were dead? You felt as if you had welcomed death with open arms when you felt the sharp pain of the water entering your lungs, so why were you still here.
You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear, but you could think. You tried to sense your surroundings, but your mind seemed to have left your body.
You paused mentally. Was this the true nature of death? Was there really an afterlife? Had all of those sayings about souls been real?
Your mind felt like it spun around, the confusion growing inside of you. That was, until you heard a sound.
It was that beautiful sound that you had heard right before you lost consciousness. That voice, as if the notes it sang were engraved in silver.
You heard the sweet humming, making your head feel fuzzy. Why were you so drawn to it? Why was it so desperately trying to pull you out of your slumber?
The second time you were aware, you felt a new sensation enter your system. You tried to squirm, but then remembered that you couldn’t control your body - did you even have one anymore? Were these all just hallucinations? Or was the sensation of cold lips exploring your neck real?
For every time you regained consciousness, the sensations grew stronger. You could hear sounds clearly, feel the outline of a hand against your skin, but you couldn’t move to touch it.
Until one time, when you could.
Your eyes opened, and it was as if all the senses you had missed out on, now came crashing down on you. You felt the sharp pain in your thigh as you moved, felt the gnawing hunger in your stomach, and the cold air hitting your wet skin.
The creature in front of you seemed to notice your discomfort, even though you couldn’t utter a word. He quickly ran his tongue up and down your neck, clicking and humming lowly as you squirmed around in his hold.
Your eyes traveled down, and widened in fear as they did so. The wound on your leg was barely visible anymore, and the most chocking thing of all, was the blue and green glowing light radiating off of the man in front of you. Off of his fins.
You found the energy to move away from him, your arms slowly scooting you towards the cave wall. You watched as his face contorted into a large frown, his body inching closer towards you right away.
You retreated your head from his hands as he tried to hold you, but did it to no avail. His hands grabbed your face, and you shrieked when you felt the large nails against your skin, but he only whined as you shook your head.
”No,” he said, and you could tell this wasn’t his mother’s tongue. Your eyes clenched shut in fear when his face inched closer to yours, and you didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this.
You felt his mouth against yours, his long tongue entering your mouth without your permission, but even when you wanted to hate it, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, the sound of the peaceful humming as he licked and kissed, it made you relax.
His lips traveled down your neck, his tongue slightly warming you up in the shivering state you were in, as he continued singing. You felt your eyes rolling back into your skull, and noticed how you weren’t fighting back anymore.
The only thing you could do was stare at his beauty as he continued running his hands up and down your cold legs, his eyes looking deep into yours.
”My human,” he smiled in between his hums, his head traveling lower down your body until he was slowly kissing your stomach.
He lifted the fabric of your blouse that hadn’t fully dried yet due to the humidity of the air in the cave you were in. You closed your eyes when he slowly started unbuttoning your shorts, his voice feeling like silk in your ears. The part of you that so desperately wanted to fight back wasn’t even there anymore. You could only feel the bliss and relaxation of the moment, but you couldn’t understand why.
Your eyes opened again when you felt your shorts slowly sliding off of your body. You would’ve winced at the feelings of his sharp nails grazing your thighs, but you didn’t. It was like almost everything that you would react strongly to otherwise, you now didn’t mind at all.
Hence the reason for your drawn out moan when the creature slowly spread your thighs apart, looking in between your legs with lustful and hungry eyes.
You blinked when he stopped singing, and even after only a second had passed, you already missed the feeling of his voice in your ears. You watched in anticipation as he slowly trailed kisses up your thighs, sucking slightly and making you shiver with excitement.
”So beautiful,” you heard him say, but you felt as if you weren’t fully conscious anymore. It was the same feeling that you had right before you had woken up, when you could almost grasp everything that was going on, but not really.
You almost felt as if you were going to pass out before your breath caught in your throat, making you avert your attention towards the man in between your legs.
You moaned when you felt his long tongue exploring you, the softness and coolness of it foreign to you. It was almost overwhelming when his tongue entered your hole, making your head shoot up in chock.
He immediately took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers with his, making you gasp at the feelings of his webbed fingers and long nails against your human hands.
His tongue curled inside of you, exploring your insides as he lewdly slurped up your juices. You exhaled deeply when he retreated his tongue, your grip on his hand loosening, only to harden again when the long muscle found your clit.
You felt your legs unconsciously spreading wider for him, giving him more access to where he wanted to lick and suck. He licked a long stipe up your pussy before retreating his head with a satisfied sigh.
You looked at his parted lips, wet and plump, and felt your desperation grow. ”Please,” you whined out, slightly raising your hips towards his face.
He smiled in surprise, but obeyed your wish with a small hum. You almost cried out when you felt him against you once again, working quick and skillful patterns against you, like nothing you had ever experienced before.
You slowly felt your climax starting to build inside of you, your thighs starting to clench around his head, when you suddenly felt a realization hit you.
Who was he?
You looked down at his eyes - that were rolled back in bliss - and thought of his identity. You thought of how you ended up here, the scar on your thigh. How did you get that?
And suddenly, everything came back to you.
You immediately let go of his hand and crawled away from him as you realized the situation. You didn’t know him, and you never wanted any of this.
You saw the anger in his eyes as you backed into a wall, making yourself smaller by hugging your knees to your chest. But beyond that anger was also a strong worry. You saw the way his eyebrows furrowed as you backed away, and now, you saw the way he slowly made his way towards you.
”What are you doing to me?” you asked, your heartbeat pounding faster as you recalled everything that had happened, and the way you hadn’t even tried to stop any of it.
”Shhh,” you heard, but you just flinched when he tried to reach out for you with his hand. ”No,” he said, like a mother denying a child something.
You kept backing away, until you realized that you had nowhere to go. This small cave was only connected to the water, and with your current state, you probably couldn’t even swim a few feet.
You froze when you heard a sound in your ears again. It was that song again, the one you knew you had heard before, but couldn’t understand when or where. Your head snapped towards him as he looked at you with glowing eyes, his mouth open as he sang those beautiful notes.
It was such a strong pull, such a beautiful melody, that your body slowly seemed to give in to it once again. And although you realized that this was what kept you from denying his touches, from trying to escape, you were way too far gone to do anything about that.
You slowly let him pull you to the cave’s edge, his body submerging into the water. You watched as he spread your legs, your calved dangling off the edge and into the cold water.
This time, when he dove back in between your legs, he never stopped humming his song. You were reminded of how close you had gotten before he stopped, and felt your excitement build up quickly once more.
His hums sent vibrations up your body, making you grip his hair desperately. His nails slightly dug into your waist, making you moan as pain mixed with pleasure. You watched as his tail splashed into the water slightly, moving quicker the closer you got.
”Give in, human,” he said before continuing to flick your clit, making you throw your head back. And those words was what made you let go completely, and come undone in his arms.
You heard your own moans and his singing echo in the walls of the cave, and when he slowly pulled you up to lay down on the stone, you had long forgotten the worries in your mind.
Yunho and Hongjoong didn’t cross your mind - the fact that you were being emotionally manipulated by an unknown creature with beautiful fins and hypnotizing eyes didn’t bother you. Of course, that was no coincidence.
Seonghwa had to make sure he was the only thing on your mind when you finally fell asleep to his sweet lullaby once again. And when he slowly cradled you in his arms, tenderly brushing your hair out of your face, he knew he had to keep it that way forever.
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coldresolve · 2 years ago
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Edgy/misc OC ask meme ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Send me a number and an OC, and I'll answer.
What memory would your OC rather just forget?
What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?
What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?
When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?
How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?
How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?
What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?
Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?
Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?
What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?
What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?
Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?
If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?
How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?
Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?
What is your OC's pain tolerance like?
What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?
Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?
How does your OC behave when enraged?
Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?
Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?
What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?
What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?
What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?
What is your favorite thing about your OC?
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eightmakesonebraincell · 6 months ago
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our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom (teaser)
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genre: poly hockey team!ateez x coach fem!reader, enemies/strangers to lovers, athlete!au, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 1.0k (teaser) + approx. 38k (full fic)
c/w: sweaty ateez (warning well deserved), lots of hurt/comfort, one of the slowest slow burns to slow burn, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic
synopsis: you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.
a/n: when i started writing this i really thought it wouldn't exceed 25k but here we are :D full fic will be released in about a week and i am so ready
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“she’s the new coach?” yunho frowns in confusion. “no offence, but we’re not a bunch of kids for her to practise being a soccer mum to.”
“she was the assistant coach for the grey eagles,” coach cho discloses.
“the grey eagles? the under-21 men’s championship team?” yeosang looks incredulous.
mingi sceptically comments, “the fact that we’ve never seen or heard of her before probably tells us enough.”
hongjoong’s lips purse sourly as he tries his hardest to analyse the situation with the professionalism of the team’s captain. but with the sudden change in coaches and the same critiquing doubts as mingi, hongjoong cannot help but feel his personal judgement webbing over his mind. over the team’s entire career as an elite ice hockey team thus far–five years, now well into their sixth–the red devils have only ever had two coaches. coach cho has been with them for the longest and whilst it took the team a while to eventually warm up to him, he has been with them for almost quadruple the amount of time it took to trust him.
the team’s alternate captain, seonghwa, speaks to you directly, “if you don’t mind me asking, why are you not playing as an athlete yourself? you’re clearly our age–nowhere near retiring.”
you knew from the very start that your age would make your credibility as a coach much lower, and your answer to seonghwa will not help your case either. “i stopped playing.”
“how come?”
the trigger of memories fills your nose with a sharp stinging smell. you blankly reveal, “i chose to stop playing.” you know exactly how it sounds like to somebody else, even more so to professional athletes. coach cho has also told you of the team’s hardheadedness and strong will when it comes to the passions of their career, so you are expecting the cold receptiveness that you are met with.
your response strikes the wrong chord within wooyoung. there was a point in his career not too long ago when the choice of continuing to play or not was at risk of becoming a forced decision. the way you answer so callously with those very words that had threatened to tear his world apart has his jaw grinding and eyes darkening, and he is not the only athlete in the arena who feels similarly.
“i would rather choose to die before i choose to stop playing. ice hockey is my entire life and without it, i am not living either,” hongjoong jabs and you cannot help but clench your fists because you know exactly what he means. still, you stay quiet as he continues, “sorry, but i can’t respect a ‘coach’ who chose to stop playing.”
at the captain’s words and subsequent move to leave for the changerooms, the rest of the team also gather their equipment and follow his steps. san’s feet falter in front of you, expression hesitant until he decides to voice, “our team needs a bit of time. it’s hard for us to warm up to…outsiders, and i know it might not mean much to say this but we have our reasons. don’t expect us to blindly trust you just because you’re a coach.”
the use of the word ‘outsider’ does not go unnoticed as you nod, “of course.”
san jogs off to rejoin the others and coach cho hums, “guess some things haven’t changed. they were just as prickly to me when i first became their coach.”
you raise an eyebrow, “prickly? to you?”
“yes, believe it or not,” he chuckles nostalgically. “we’ve come a long way because i’ve been their coach for years now. but it took me a while before i was able to break down their walls.”
you briefly mull over the information, then ask out of curiosity, “what would you have done if i didn’t sign the contract?”
“begged you to rethink your decision,” he jokes with a pleased chortle. “i would have to start looking for a different coach, i suppose. you were my only pick.”
“but why me, of all people? there are so many other experienced coaches that you can choose from.”
he looks at you, eyes glinting with intuition and confidence as he simply says, “you’re familiar with their playing style. they play just like you used to.” at your silent processing, coach cho probes, “why didn’t you tell them the real reason?”
you smile wistfully, “i didn't tell them because i’m not here to gain their pity.”
some of the boys’ voices grow louder as they emerge from the changerooms, changed into fresh clothes and their kit bags slung over their shoulders. you hear one of them ask, “captain, is she really going to be our new coach?”
they step out from the facility’s corridor and you accidentally make eye contact with hongjoong, yet neither of you look away. maintaining a steady gaze directly at you, he responds with a slight glower, “maybe, but she’s only the coach by title. i’m still the captain of the team, so let’s see who everyone listens to.”
as they exit the rink’s arena, you feel a fire of determination growing inside of you. you have won over your own demons and you have won the championships before–this is nothing in comparison. whether your next words are for coach cho or for yourself to hear, it does not matter.
“i may not play anymore but i was still once an athlete and no athlete has ever, in their career, wanted pity. i’m here to earn the team’s respect and i will win over them, especially their captain.”
you watch the swing of the glass door as it shuts behind the players, catching a brief glimpse of the trees lining the arena’s perimeter. it is the first day of autumn when you meet the red devils for the first time and outside, the leaves are beginning to change their colours.
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anto-pops · 6 days ago
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Bitter Truths - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: Following the revelation that Sebastian has gone back to dabbling in the Dark Arts, you end things with him and try your hardest to stand firm in the decision. He has no intention of making things easy for you, however, and he’ll manipulate any situation to his advantage if it means getting you back on his side.
Even if that means manipulating you.
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, dark!Sebastian, emotional manipulation, explicit sexual content
Full fic is also up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure
You weren’t sure who you hated more. Professor Sharp for refusing to hear you out following the disaster in potion’s class, or your idiot of an ex-boyfriend for causing said disaster in the first place. 
There was absolutely no reason for it either. Even though the two of you hadn’t talked in a week, you liked to think you were familiar with his tendencies in school. Helping Garreth with his obscure, insane ideas had never been something Sebastian made a habit of doing, which just left you all the more frustrated. 
He had clearly landed you both in trouble intentionally. 
Following your fifth-year, you had dutifully stayed firm in your boundary that if Sebastian so much as glanced at anything pertaining to the Dark Arts, you would cut your losses and leave him to deal with the consequences. For too long, you had wallowed in self-pity at the blatant way you had let him take advantage of your kindness, manipulating you into helping him essentially get away with murder. The broody persona he had returned to Hogwarts with your sixth-year had led you to believe that he wouldn’t listen, but he had proven you wrong. Bending over backwards to get on your good side, you had eventually relented and let him back into your life, and that inch given quickly turned into a mile earned when both of you started dating.
After making it through the entire year without a glimpse of his former habits, you had mistakenly assumed your final year of school would be much the same. For the most part it had been– until last week, apparently. 
You had found Salazar Slytherin’s spell book in his dorm. 
It had been well hidden, too; charmed to look like an ordinary textbook, then wrapped in one of his old scarfs and stuffed at the bottom of his trunk. Call it a gut feeling, but you had known something was going on with Sebastian even before finding the book he’d sworn up and down he had destroyed years prior. He would stay out well past curfew, coming back looking anxious and worn down. The far off look in his eyes you had seen towards the end of your fifth-year had returned, along with the dark circles under his eyes that told you he wasn’t sleeping much, if at all. 
Most damning of all had been his three day absence from school. Sebastian had said the Ministry had summoned him to London to finally sign over the deed to Solomon’s old house in Feldcroft to him. An innocent enough excuse, and a believable one when it had been relayed to the Headmaster and to the faculty… but not to you. 
Sebastian wanted nothing to do with that house. He had told you so himself numerous times. 
So why was it that when he’d returned to Hogwarts after those three days, the barely there scent of Dark Magic accompanied him?
Gaslighting yourself into believing that you were imagining things had been difficult, but you’d managed to convince yourself that it wasn’t real– that the rotting, smokey scent that had clung to his clothes for that brief moment was a trick of the wind. But then you’d found the book.
After throwing that stupid spell book in his face and swearing at him with every curse-word that existed, you’d followed through on your promise to him. You ended things then and there, too angry and too irrational to even take the time to hear him out when he’d begged you to. 
“Please just listen to me! It’s not what you think, darling, I swear. I was only–”
“I don’t give a damn, Sebastian!” If looks could kill, the glare you shot his way would have had him collapsing on the spot. “I don’t need to hear the lies or the justifications. You lied to me. You told me you were done with this shit, but apparently that was a fat load of crap. I can’t even look at you right now.” 
Turning away from him to reach for the door handle, you yelped in alarm when his arm shot past your head to hold the exit shut. You spun around, eyes wide with shock and anger, and met his stormy, frantic gaze. He was unrecognizable; his chest heaved violently as he drew in quick breaths one after another, and his mouth was drawn in a tight line across his face. Coiled tighter than a spring, you worried that he would snap with you in his crosshairs, and that thought induced a kind of fear that you hadn’t felt since your fifth-year. 
“You need to let me explain,” he grit through his teeth. You heard his nails scrape against the wood of the door as his hand curled into a tight fist, and the sound snapped you out of your momentary stupor. 
Planting your hands squarely against his chest, you shoved him away with the strength of a Troll, sending him stumbling back towards the middle of the empty dorm with a look of disbelief etched across his face. “No,” you turned back for the door, wrenching it open and flinging it behind you as you stepped into the hallway. “I don’t.”
He had tried and failed to speak to you since then, but you had gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. You found yourself sitting with Poppy and Natty during mealtimes, and you’d skipped a few classes altogether to spare yourself the torment of having him try anything there. If your friends knew something was wrong with you, they didn’t comment on it, and you were immensely grateful for their willful obliviousness. 
Unfortunately for you, however, you had underestimated Sebastian’s ability to manipulate situations to his advantage. 
Even after two years, Garreth hadn’t stopped concocting his… unique brews. It was a gamble to walk into Professor Sharp’s class and assume that nothing would blow up in his face that day. You knew it, the Professor knew it, everyone knew it. 
So why Sebastian had seemingly gone out of his way to help Garreth this time around told you enough about his unwillingness to let you go quietly. 
There was no way of knowing what he had given Weasley to add to his Restorative Drought at the beginning of class, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. The exchange had transpired right before you eyes, and whatever thick goop Garreth had dumped into his cauldron had caused an explosion that put all his past fuck-ups to shame. Instantly the room had filled with a pungent gas that was so foul and nauseating, Natty had been forced to run out into the hallway to expel her lunch from her stomach. In the midst of your own gagging you had pulled out your wand to cast Ventus, a wind charm that collected the bulk of the gas into a concentrated funnel that was then directed towards the open window in a bid to clear the room. 
Your plan would have worked… had Professor Sharp not blocked the magically condensed jet of putrid air with his face. 
To say he’d been angry would be a monumental understatement. The palpable rage that had radiated from him was a deadly sort; simmering beneath the surface, powerful, and silent. He had wasted little time after that in docking you, Garreth, and Sebastian fifty house points each before sending the three of you away to detention for the evening. 
Garreth would have attended… had he not gotten violently ill following the debacle. He hadn’t even made it down the hall outside the room before folding over on himself and vomiting profusely all over the floor. Evidently he had taken the brunt of the eruption and was left to cope with the aftereffects. You didn’t envy him. 
Nurse Blainey had apparently promised that her patient would make up the detention as soon as he was done throwing up the contents of his stomach, which had ultimately left you stuck in Professor Weasley’s classroom alone with the current bane of your existence. 
You knew it was pure chance that Garreth was unable to sit in detention with the two of you, but for some reason you were convinced that Sebastian had seamlessly orchestrated the whole thing. 
The bastard was probably feeling awfully smug about it, too.
Sebastian sat at the table furthest from you, boring holes into the side of your head that you were doing your damnedest to ignore. The only thing that likely kept him from outright trying to speak to you was Professor Weasley anally watching the two of you like a hawk in-between grading reports. She had already scolded the life out of you both, taking additional time to chastise Sebastian, because apparently she had seen him in detention “far too many times this semester”. Yet another thing he had kept from you, evidently. It didn’t even seem like he had taken the reprimanding to heart if his slack posture and disinterested expression was anything to go by, but you were too angry to pay it any mind. 
This was shaping up to be the longest three hours of your fucking life. 
The chipped wood on the edge of the desk continued to captivate your attention in favor of meeting the brunet’s unrelenting stare. Your jaw ached from how hard you’d been clenching your molars together, and your leg had cramped up twice now from bouncing it to rid yourself of the jitters that plagued you. You were prepared for the bulk of the detention to continue like that; slowly, suffocated by a tense silence, and wholly uncomfortable. That is, until the door to the classroom was thrown open rather aggressively. 
Looking up from your desk, you watched as a nurse from the Hospital Wing barreled through the entryway, her hair disheveled beneath her bonnet and her glasses crooked atop her nose. She sucked in a sharp breath before straightening herself out and saying, “Matilda– I’m so sorry. Nurse Blainey asked me to fetch you. Your nephew is… well, he’s in quite the state.”
Professor Weasley took her own glasses off to pinch the bridge of her nose, heaving a heavy sigh before muttering, “Merlin, that boy will be the death of me, I swear. Is he alright?” 
“He’s– well…” the nurse trailed off, nervously wringing her hands together as she searched for the right words. “He’s alive, but whatever he added to that potion is causing some… concerning side effects. He has four arms and quite a few extra toes presently.” 
“He what?” Professor Weasley abruptly swiveled her head in Sebastian’s direction, fixing him with an incredulous look that he had the good grace to shrink at. “What exactly did you give him to add to that potion?” 
Stubbornly, you watched through your peripheral vision as Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly before murmuring, “Just troll bogeys. He didn’t tell me what he was trying to accomplish with them, though.” 
Pointedly, Professor Weasley rose from her seat and walked around her desk, brushing a few wrinkles out of her skirt as she strode for the door. “I’ll save my questions about how you got your hands on such a thing for after I get back. In the meantime, don’t even think about going anywhere. Both of you.” 
You could only furrow your brow indignantly before she had turned her attention back to the nurse. The woman spun on her heel to lead the way without a second glance, and as soon as the massive door clicked shut behind them, your heart sank into your feet. 
You were alone. With him. 
An uncomfortable feeling emanated from within the room, the air ripe with tension thick enough to cut with a knife. It took everything in you to keep your eyes averted at your desk before deciding to simply put your head down against the wood. If Professor Weasley was bound to be preoccupied in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the evening, you could at least catch some shut eye in the meantime. The events from the last week had taken a toll on you mentally, and you were beyond eager to wrap up the day so you could fall into your bed and sleep. 
It couldn’t have been thirty seconds before you felt the table jostle as the culprit of your misfortune made himself comfortable next to you, and with your face still hidden in the crook of your arm, you pursed your lips in blatant distaste. 
Maybe if you pretended to be asleep, he would give up? There was no way he actually thought that there was a conversation to be had after everything he had done. Aside from a handful of inappropriate, choice words that were unbecoming of a lady, you had nothing to say to him. 
Evidently, it seemed that Sebastian thought otherwise. 
“We need to talk.” 
Merlin– even though you had heard his voice around school in the last seven days, having it directed at you while he used that deep, commanding tenor was another thing entirely. A weak, naive part of you was inclined to listen, but you stubbornly burrowed your face deeper into your arm and somehow pressed your lips together even harder. No, you thought, we don’t. 
“Either you talk to me now while we’re finally alone in here, or I’ll drag you to the Undercroft afterwards. Willingly or not.”
At that, you sat up to glare incredulously at him. The unmistakable conviction in his voice and the obstinate tilt to his chin confirmed that he wasn’t lying in the slightest, and he crossed his arms over his chest as though daring you to call his bluff. 
He wouldn’t…
“I would,” he countered your thoughts with narrowed eyes, which in turn resulted in another unamused glare from you. “I’d be an idiot not to try when you’re finally in a position to listen. Especially considering you’ve avoided me like the plague all week.” 
The audacity of this man. How dare he make you out to be some heartless villain. His status as a pariah in your eyes was his own doing, directly caused by the steady flow of manipulations and lies that had dripped from his lips for who knew how long. You had given him another chance after everything, and what did you have to show for it now? Nothing but an aching heart and enough resentments to last a lifetime. 
“And whose fault is that?” you snapped, every word laced with venom. “Your priorities were made abundantly clear to me after you lied straight to my face. How long did you think you could keep it from me, hm? Did you think I was too stupid to notice, or did toeing the line right in front of me excite you somehow? You’re not allowed to be upset that your actions had consequences.” 
As you sucked down a breath and fixed Sebastian with a hard, unyielding look, he stared at you oppressively. His mouth pressed together as he processed your words. Whether it was what you had said that left him speechless or the fact that you had said anything to him at all, you didn’t know. Regardless, he took a second too long to reply, which gave you the chance to click your tongue disapprovingly.
“I have nothing to say to you, Sebastian. Go back to your seat before you land us in more trouble.”
At that moment, it was as if he had been doused with chilled water. Sebastian snapped out of his stupor and frowned, his back straightening as he gathered his resolve once more. “I beg to differ, I have plenty to say. We haven’t even scratched the surface of what needs to be said–”
“Nothing needs to be said!” you blurted, your steely resolve crumbling ever so slightly. This wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. To spit in the face of his pleading and remain firm in your refusal to hear him out. He sounded so… desperate. More than that, his words were tinged with unmistakable sincerity. Some internal part of you writhed in agony as you ignored your heart and forced out, “I don’t care, Sebastian. I’m tired. I gave you plenty of chances before and you’ve officially squandered every last one. I can’t do this with you– not now, not ever.” 
The telling sting of tears welling in your eyes had you averting your gaze to the door, silently praying for Professor Weasley to come back, because you were being made acutely aware of how difficult it was to keep this up. You had given Sebastian nearly two years of your life. You had loved him– you still loved him– but you didn’t think you had the strength to go down this path with him again. The Dark Arts had brought the two of you nothing but misery, and for him to go back to it after all this time not only infuriated you, it saddened you. 
He had done so well for himself. He had changed, wholly and truly. Even Ominis had let him back into his life after a grueling six months of pleading. But for him to pull all of this on you a second time… 
How did the saying go? Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice…
You were tired of being tricked. 
The sudden feeling of Sebastian’s hand skimming down your spine had your head swiveling back towards him in a flash. Your arm flew up to knock him away, but he anticipated the move and caught your wrist with his other hand, coiling his fingers around the limb to lock you in his grip. Through the well of tears in your eyes, you watched as he brought your trapped hand to his mouth, pressing a chaste, gentle kiss to the inside of your palm before nuzzling you affectionately. The motion was so tender– so adoring– that you couldn’t help but watch him completely dumbstruck. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the skin of your hand. Kissing you again, his dark eyes flicked back to meet yours, “I’m sorry for lying. I should have been honest from the start. There’s no one else I trust more in this world than you, you know that, right?” 
The hand on your back took to tracing languid shapes against your blouse, inching its way lower towards the waistline of your skirt, and your breath hitched in your throat as you hastily wiped away an errant tear that slipped down your cheek. You eyed him warily and curled your fingers in the hand he still held, but he made no move to pull away. “You should have done a lot of things, Sebastian. But you can’t change the past. You messed up, and I need you to accept that.” 
“But what if I could?” He spoke the words in a low voice, then tilted his head down so he was gazing at you through his dark lashes. The look… it was predatory. Animalistic, in a way. It scared you that you even began to find the expression intriguing. Moreover, you had no clue what it was he meant… but you wanted to. 
“What if you could what?” 
“What if I could change the past?” Your brows furrowed in alarm, but Sebastian ignored your wary countenance and slid to the edge of his seat so he was mere inches from you. The hand on your back reached the tucked hem of your shirt, his fingers brazenly sneaking beneath the material to trail his touch up your bare back, and despite your reservations, you couldn’t help but shudder. “What if I could use power no one has ever dreamed of? What if I was close to uncovering magic that could make anything possible? Dark or not, it’s magic. It was created for a purpose. What’s so wrong with using it? It’s a tool, same as all spells… it would be wasteful to bury it just because the Ministry says so.”
“But–” his fingers skimmed over your brassiere, toying with the metal clasps that held it in place with a look of mischievousness glimmering in his eyes. Unwilling to back down, however, you forced the rest of your retort from your lips. “It’s not just the Ministry that says so, it’s history. Look at Isidora–”
Sebastian tugged on the hand he still had clasped in his own, drawing you into his space so suddenly that you gasped softly. He let go of your wrist to cup your cheek, leaning in more until he was so close that you could see your own reflection in his eyes. “Isidora’s problem was that she lacked conviction. She was motivated, sure, but she still sought approval from the wrong people. Those Keepers became a vise of her own making. She was never going to get anywhere with her abilities so long as she waited for their consent.” 
You had a feeling you knew where he was going with this. A bad feeling. 
“But you?” His eyes jumped between your own, flicking down at your lips every so often as he slipped two of his fingers under the strappy attire beneath your blouse. “You could be so much better than her. You can control your powers with so much more finesse than she ever could, and together we could unlock untold secrets about magic. Think about it, darling. You and me, unearthing troves of hidden knowledge. What’s the harm in that?” 
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. The miniscule distance between the two of you vanished in a heartbeat as Sebastian closed in, and your words were stolen from you as his lips crushed against yours with an intensity that muddled your thoughts. You weren’t an idiot– you knew this was his way of distracting you from everything; his lies, the spell book, the utterly incomprehensible bombshell he had just dropped on you. In prime Sebastian fashion, he had disarmed you completely and reduced you to putty in his hands, your previous anger momentarily forgotten as he probed around your mouth with his tongue. 
It was entirely too predictable… but you would be lying if you said it wasn’t addicting. You had missed him. You didn’t think you would ever stop loving him– his faults be damned. 
The fact that the two of you were in Professor Weasley’s classroom barely mattered to you– especially not when the hand on your back finally undid the clasps of your brassiere with a dexterity that enticed you far more than was healthy. With that out of the way, Sebastian dragged the limb out from under your shirt and wrapped both arms around your midsection, continuously devouring the tiny sounds you made with his mouth as he hoisted you out of your chair and deposited you roughly on the desk. 
It was positively frantic. The hurried pulling of clothes and the panted breaths exchanged in-between kisses made it seem like the two of you had been apart for years instead of one measly week. You were still angry with him for lying, and you were worried about what indulging him now would mean for the two of you later down the line… but for the time being, you didn’t care. Sebastian was your vise, and you were certain that no matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to bring yourself to be rid of him. 
You were left to hold yourself steady as Sebastian let go of you to tug at his belt, his teeth biting and pulling at your bottom lip harshly as he drew away briefly to flick the leather aside and undo the catch of his pants. He pulled his cock from the confines of his briefs hastily, stroking himself furiously with one hand as the other blindly gathered your skirt into a disheveled heap below your navel. The ferocity with which he yanked your undergarments down your legs made you gasp, and as soon as those were pulled down past your thighs, he went right back to swallowing up the delicious sounds you made. 
Without breaking away, Sebastian dragged you towards the edge of the desk and lifted one of your thighs up, holding it firmly to his hip as he bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing cunt. The growing wetness there made the teasing slide of his tip through your folds positively heavenly for both of you, and you felt arousal curling in the pit of your stomach when the man before you growled. 
He broke away from your swollen lips with a shaky exhale, and you blinked up at him as you took in the ravenous expression that adorned his handsome face. Flushed cheeks, messy hair, and a lustful, wanton gleam in his dark, bottomless eyes. It was all for you, you realized dimly. 
It was one of the worst ideas you had ever had, but you decided to be greedy. If he was going to offer, then you were going to take. 
You adjusted your weight so you were supporting yourself up with one hand while your other flew to the back of Sebastian’s neck. If the feeling of your nails digging into his skin was unpleasant, he definitely didn’t care, seeing as he groaned appreciatively when you dragged his lips back to yours. It was all a flurry of tongue and teeth as the two of you shamelessly rutted like animals atop the desk, until he finally moved his hips to press into your sopping wet entrance, and the stretch was as delectable as it was jarring. 
“Fuck,” you heard him mutter against your lips. The fingers he had wrapped around your thigh dug into your flesh, the incredible feeling of your warm, pulsing walls enveloping him making him shudder with delight. “I love you. I love you so much, you know?” 
You nodded brainlessly, still processing the feeling of him breaching you. “I love you too. You’re everything to me, Sebastian. I–” 
His hips jerked forward at the declaration, making you cry out against your better judgement, and even though being noisy was quite possibly the worst choice either one of you could make, Sebastian seemed to relish in the sound. In a split second, he had you laid out on your back across the desk, tightening his grip on your leg with a strength you knew would leave bruises. He shook his head as he chuckled to himself, then fixed his sights on you as he began to pump his hips with a tenacity that left you breathless. Your spine arched off the wooden surface as he worked to set a brutal pace, his lust-dark eyes watching you rapaciously as your mouth fell open around a long, drawn out moan. 
“We were made for each other,” you heard him state gruffly. Your other leg was swiftly lifted and tossed over his shoulder, spreading you open for him so obscenely that you knew you would never be able to attend class here with a straight face ever again. The new position gave him the freedom to press his broad hand against your lower stomach as well, applying ample pressure so he could feel the head of his cock spearing into the deepest parts of you. It felt surreal– it was mind-boggling– and you were certain that you broke your nails when you instinctively dragged your fingers along the desk. “Two sides of the same coin, darling. That’s what we are. You’re mine, and I’m all yours. Only yours. You believe me, right?” 
Getting your tongue to work was next to impossible, so your acknowledgement came out sounding like more of a garbled wheeze. Sebastian only laughed at your fucked-out state, moving his hand from your stomach up your torso, shoving your undone brassiere out of the way to roughly squeeze one of your breasts in his warm palm. The intensity of his thrusts kicked up then, and he took to grinding his balls against the swell of your ass with every deep, aggressive plunge of his cock. 
Through your hazy vision, you saw as his head tipped forward between his shoulders, the pleasure he derived from fucking you on the desk taking him to new heights. You were inclined to think similarly, because for some unfathomable reason, the threat of the Professor walking in at any moment only added to the rush of ecstasy that coursed through your veins. 
The force of Sebastian’s thrusts made your arm shake as you lifted it from the desk, planting it squarely over your clit so you could rub aggressive, desperate little circles over it. The instant gratification had you groaning loud, your voice echoing off the walls of the classroom and dragging Sebastian’s attention back to you. He wrenched his hand apart from your breast to snatch yours away from your bundle of nerves, then pinned the limb to the desk beside your head. 
He leaned in close to your face, bending your leg so far back that the sinful sound of his hips slapping against your wet skin amplified tenfold. It was equal parts embarrassing and erotic, and you mewled pitifully as he smirked and proclaimed, “That’s my job, darling.” 
You were about to say that you didn’t care whose job it was, so long as it was a job that got done– but his calloused thumb planting itself over the nub interrupted your snide comment, replacing it instantly with a quivering moan that had him twitching inside of you. Entirely at his mercy as he pounded into you, the rapid flicking he bestowed upon your clit brought you closer to that blissful edge you yearned to fall over. The fire in your gut burned hotter, your senseless noises got raspier, and in turn Sebastian’s hold on you became possessive. 
He watched you unblinkingly, waiting for you to reach your peak with rapt focus, and all you could do was meet his unwavering stare as your climax finally washed over you. Your mouth fell open as a choked groan escaped your hoarse throat, and Sebastian swiftly released your thigh to cover your mouth with his hand, muffling the noises enough so that the sanctity of your activities wouldn’t be broadcasted to anyone nearby. 
You were hardly of a mind to care– you were seeing stars. Everything around you flashed white as you trembled uncontrollably beneath him, your muscles tensing and your walls sucking him in impossibly deeper. A rumbling groan sounded from him as he fucked you through all of it, only deigning to increase his pace once he felt you go lax under him, and then it didn’t take long for him to follow you over that edge. He repeated your name over and over again as he came, bottoming out into your soaked cunt as he emptied himself deep within your walls, those predatory eyes of his sliding shut for the briefest of moments. 
It was hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that; coiled around one another as you both worked to control your breathing. Sebastian’s hand slipped away from your mouth, granting you the ability to suck down deep, steadying gulps of air, and shortly thereafter you felt him trail his fingers down your sides soothingly. 
Through the post-coital haze that clouded your mind, you found yourself staring at him as he stood straight and pulled out of your brutalized folds. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly, scanning your flushed body beneath him with a sort of unbridled longing that left you feeling exposed. 
Where did the two of you go from here? What was next? 
Wordlessly, Sebastian helped you sit up, huffing out a laugh when your forehead thumped against his chest weakly. He took it upon himself to fix up your clothes, tucking your shirt back into your wrinkled skirt before carefully bending down to drag your underwear back up your boneless legs. You had to shift a little to help him get them on properly, but your head stayed firmly planted against him the entire time. 
A hand on your neck roused you from your hiding spot, and you cautiously tipped your head back to look up at him through your lashes. Sebastian stared down at you with a hopeful expression on his face– something else akin to excitement shadowing the look. “Do you trust me?” 
That was one hell of a loaded question… especially following everything that had transpired throughout the week. You mulled it over quietly, choosing your words carefully before opting to say, “I want to.”
He sighed and brought his other hand to your cheek, cupping your face in his clammy palms as he nodded. “Okay. No more secrets. No more lies. I swear to you, from here on out, you’ll get nothing but the truth from me.” He waited to see if you would push him away or refute the statement, but you didn’t. You just pursed your lips, hesitating only briefly before nodding. It seemed pointless to call his bluff right now. “Would you come with me? To do all the things I told you about?”
From outside the classroom, you could suddenly hear the sound of muffled voices approaching. Professor Weasley had to be returning from the Hospital Wing, and the two of you were still in a very precarious position. One that was guaranteed to land you in more trouble than you could fathom. 
Sebastian jerked your face back towards him, forcing your eyes to return to his as he looked at you with sheer desperation. “Would you?” he reiterated urgently. 
“I–” you gingerly lifted your hands to hold his wrists, opening and closing your mouth as you worked to formulate words. “I don’t know, Sebastian. It’s a scary prospect, and so many things could go wrong–” 
“Not if we work together,” he insisted, chancing a quick look at the massive doorway. The voices and footsteps from outside were getting louder, and you got the distinct impression that Sebastian thought that you were running out of time. He looked back at you, eyes burning, “If we do this together– as a team– there’s so much we could accomplish. You and me against the world, darling. We can bring in a new era of magic that no one has ever dreamed of. You just have to trust me.” 
It was terrifying to consider. It was balmy and likely to end in the worst of ways. You were both still so young– still figuring out where you stood in a world run by magic. Your shared, tumultuous past with Sebastian had barely opened your eyes to the surface of what your abilities could do. Of that, you were certain. Part of you was afraid to traverse that path once again and run the risk of something worse than Solomon transpiring. 
But another, much stronger part of you was curious to test your limits. Sebastian wasn’t wrong; Isidora’s magic was ripe with potential, and if he really did mean to help you along the way… 
If you couldn’t convince him to veer away from the path he had chosen, the least you could do was walk it with him. Maybe doing so would prove beneficial… or maybe it wouldn’t. There was no way of knowing for certain. 
“I do trust you,” you said plainly, the weight of the statement settling over the two of you like a blanket of iron. Despite your reasoning behind saying the words, you still couldn’t help but feel like you’d just signed a deal with the devil. 
He smiled at you then, the sight blinding when coupled with the excitement that glimmered in his captivating, brown eyes. Your grip on his wrists tightened a fraction, and Sebastian used your own hold on him to tug you off the desk and into his arms in one, swift motion. “Then hold on tight, darling.” 
It should have been impossible– and the implications of the action left your mind reeling– but in the next second, a deafening crack sounded all around the two of you and echoed off the walls of the classroom. You had no clue where he was apparating you to, nor did you know how he had managed to even do it while on school grounds, but you knew that you trusted him to keep you safe. 
From here on out, you had to trust him. You realized, through the roar of magic that flooded your ears, that there was no other choice. 
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nanamistiee · 1 year ago
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loverboy. // megumi fushiguro x reader
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ooh, lover boy! what're you doing tonight? ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ megumi fushiguro x reader ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ━━━ ( ⋆。°✩ tw: n/a) ━ (wc: 1,015 ) ━ ( song inspo ✩°。⋆) ━━━
what kind of woman is your type?
ever since todo had posed the question, megumi hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. at the time, he’d spewed some nonsense -- not having a particular type -- mostly because he’d believed the question was completely out of place and nonsensical; which, in his defense, it was. the other male was less than pleased with his answer, even going as far as to call him boring. yet, megumi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d even answered truthfully.
“gumi,” your voice finally breaks the silence between you two. he’d been so lost in thought he’d nearly forgotten you were a foot away from him, staring intently as you sipped away at your matcha latte. “you’re so quiet today,” you frown, fiddling around with your straw. has he upset you? 
he matches your frown almost instantaneously. “i don’t think i’m being any more quiet than usual,” he tries his hardest to coolly retort, an impulsive hand rushing toward you to ruffle your hair in a desperate attempt to act like nothing’s wrong. no, his mind totally isn’t waging an entire war right now. no, he’s not at all debating on, perhaps, one of the most crucial decisions of his life.
whether or not to dare risk ruining your friendship. 
──────────────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────────────────
“you make me sick,” maki’s voice, a disgusted groan, breaks his concentration entirely. as he whips his head toward the green haired girl, he realizes something. he’d been staring at you this entire time. you were several feet away, talking to panda. yet, the black haired boy is absolutely mesmerized. the way your eyes light up and sparkle every time someone makes you laugh… the way every time you flash your pearly white teeth seems to make his heart flutter. there’s something about you that he’s absolutely addicted to, but megumi fushiguro swears he’d never tell a soul about any of this. no, you two are friends. what if you didn’t like him back? what if he tells you how he feels and you never want to speak to him ever again? consumed by his thoughts, he fails to realize you and panda are waltzing right up to them. 
he clears his mind with a visible shake of his head, tilting his head and looking at maki with his best ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. was he really that obvious? he makes a mental note to stop trying to stare at you less, yet this feels like an impossible task.
“just ask her out already, loverboy,” maki sticks out her tongue. he doesn’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.
“ooh, ask who out?” you question, clasping your hands together as you sit down next to your best boyfriend. he heard your voice. your voice. you just sat next to him. 
he swears he nearly jumps out of his skin upon realizing you’d just walked into a conversation about you. could he play it off? act stupid? what kind of lie could he tell to get out of explaining that maki was teasing him about you? were they talking about another girl from another school? no -- something about even pretending to like another girl feels wrong. 
“‘gumi’ likes a girl, but he’s too much of a pussy to ask her out,” maki snickers. it seems she’s even poking fun at your nickname for him, and he silently prays that you don’t notice this. “as a fantastic and the best friend anyone could ever ask for, i’ve been trying to encourage him.” her sarcasm is nearly enough to make his skin crawl. she’s deadpanning and making it so obvious it hurts. 
“do we know who this girl is?” you ask. maybe he’s making things up -- imaging things to make himself feel better -- but he swears your eyes dull and shift from the beautiful, sparkling orbs they always were. “we do not!” maki clicks her tongue, and megumi can finally breathe a sigh of relief. or so he thinks. “say… what’s your type anyway?” she segways the conversation almost cruelly, staring you dead in your eyes.
you seem to take a moment. firstly, to inhale a sharp breath. then, you take a second to think, furrowing your brows together in a moment of deep thought. a few beats pass and you finally exhale your sigh, and megumi swears you three have been sitting in silence for eternity. “tall,” you start, and he swears his stomach is tying itself into knots. “reserved… smart -- gotta be smart,” you chuckle and grin. “maybe even a little stoic. like i can never tell what’s going on in his head, but i always at least hope he’s thinking about me somewhere in there.”
in his state of sheer panic, he nearly misses the obvious blush dusting your cheeks. maki could’ve smacked him right in the back of his head and he still would’ve missed it. yet, somehow, you still have more to say. “someone who’s always thinking about other people… protective, i guess. someone mature and who always takes things seriously, even if other people think he’s a pain in the ass for it.” he can’t help but feel a bit guilty about giving such a lame answer to todo now, especially when you’ve had plenty to say. megumi opens his mouth to speak, yet he’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say to that. he prays deep down you’re talking about him, but it’s not exactly like he can voice that out loud--
“oh my god!” maki groans, throwing her head back. “you two are absolutely disgusting!” “you know she’s talking about you, right?” she hisses aloud, giving megumi, perhaps, the dirtiest look she could ever muster. “it’s actually so painful to watch you two dance around each other!” with her opinions growing quite vocal, maki stands up and crosses her arms. “do i have to do it for you? or are you two gonna talk about your disgusting and obvious feelings for each other?”
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moonlight1110 · 1 year ago
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Crawling back to you
ex-boyfriend!Ghost x Reader ; (Late) Valentines Special ;)
Your ex-boyfriend who comes banging at your door in the middle of the night. He desperately wants you back, and when he invites himself in, is there really nothing else you can do?
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Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, rough sex (kinda idk), mating press, pathetic!Simon, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not propfread, proofread anyway BC I hate typos
Notes: planned on writing something for valentines but uni fucked me sideways so im posting today <3
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"What the hell..." You jump as three hard knocks come from your door, almost as if the person on the other side was just a second away from breaking it down.
You didn't need to go through your mental library to know who it was, you knew exactly who was at your door at this ungodly hour because who else in their right mind would show up uninvited except him.
With a grunt, you roll off of bed and trudge to your front door. A heavy feeling pressing down on your chest as you got closer and closer to the door, you contemplated if opening it was even a good option, but knowing who was on the other side, choosing to ignore him was going to be a poor decision on your part.
With an tired sigh, you grabbed the door knob, squeezing it as doubts ran through your mind, but you are snapped out of it when he knocks, even harder than before.
"What are you doing?!" You ask, trying not to scream at him to avoid receiving another noise complaint from your overbearing neighbors when you opened the door slightly to peek out the small crack of it. Standing on the other side was someone you knew all too well.
"Let me in" his voice was low as he looked down at you, dark eyes staring at you from the opening of his balaclava. "Please..." He took a step forward, placing a hand on your door, but you stayed firm. "Simon, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and expect me to let you in" you argued, hardening the hand that was holding your door.
"I miss you, baby, come on..." He pushed the door slightly, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried your hardest to shut the door. With how strong and large Simon was, trying to fight back against him was next to impossible.
"Simon, please..." You looked at him, brows furrowing. However, even at your attempts to stand by your decision, there was a part of you that wanted him to just push your door open... An unexplainable feeling, you thought.
"Take me back... I'll do anything" He sounded desperate, his voice sounded unlike the person you thought you knew, he sounded hurt, vulnerable, not like the usual stone cold and stoic Ghost you knew.
"You broke up with me remember... You can't just go back on that when you want to" your expression hardened in contrast to his which softened as he looked into your eyes. He regretted it, deeply.
"I did, I know that but I didn't know I would be making the biggest mistake of my life, love..." He steps closer, pushing your door open just a bit again. "Don't call me that... Just don't" you shake your head in disapproval but that small part of you just misses the way he called you that, how it rolled off his tongue like honey, you missed it.
"Just let me in, let's talk... I miss you" the last part comes out as a mumbled plea as he pushes your door open finally, stepping inside like he never left. Those three words just made you want to jump over the boundaries you so desperately tried to build up, but all you could do was step aside and let him in, there was no point in fighting him.
"What's there left to talk about, Simon?" You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as Simon removed his shoes, it looked so familiar next to yours...
"I want you back, I can't fuckin' live without you..." His brows knit together as he looks down at you, reaching out but you step back with a disapproving look. "Then why did you end it in the first place if you were just gonna come back to me anyway..." Your hands fall to your sides with a defeated sigh leaving your lips.
"I told you, it was the distance, my work... I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice for the both f'us..." Ignoring your attempts at creating space between you, he steps closer, caging you between his arms as he leaned against the wall, effectively trapping you under him.
"I was wrong, baby... So fuckin' wrong..." he whispered, his eyes silently pleading for your to just listen. He leaned forward so close you could feel his hot breath even through the fabric of his balaclava.
"I didn't even want to leave you..." You started, your face scrunching as you remembered the events that happened the day he cut things off between the two of you. "You made up so many reasons, so many excuses... You put words in my mouth..." You looked away, feeling your chest tighten again at the recollection of your memories together. It hurt to bring up and remember but with seeing Simon standing in front of you again, it was impossible to push those thoughts away.
"I know, I know..." He took your chin inbetween his index and thumb, willing you to look back at him. His expression was one of guilt and desperation, that much was clear with the way he was looking at you.
"But I can't stand another day without you, been regretting that decision every fuckin' day, love..." He leans in, snaking a hand around your waist. You want to pull away, to push him off and tell him to fuck off from you forever but you don't, you just cant find it in you to push him away when all you wanted was to be with him.
"Those months away from you felt like an eternity, don't wanna feel that anymore..." He pulls you closer, holding you tightly against his chest with his nose now inhaling the scent of your hair from the crook of your neck.
"We can't... This is the type of shit that complicates things, Simon..." you place your hands on his chest as if you even wanna push him off you. "I don't care..." He groans and pulls his balaclava off, breathing against your neck. It makes you squirm the way his hands are travelling down now, you missed it more than you were willingly to openly admit to him anyway, but that's no issue for how your body is responding.
"Fuck if it means we'll get complicated, I need you back..." He kisses at your neck, still familiar with all the spots that just made you melt. "Can't be away from you for another fuckin' day, baby..." He groans, pinning you against the wall by your hips, grinding a knee to your clothed cunt.
"Just say the word and I'll leave..." He groans, giving your throat a good lick all the way to your collarbone as his hands found your ass, kneading like he owned it. "I'll leave and I'll never come back, I won't bother you... But y'need to tell me..." His lips drag along your shoulder as he pulls you closer on his thigh, "Tell me... Tell me y'never wanna see me again, push me away..." He mumbles against the side of your neck.
Your breath hitches in your throat with the way he was talking to you, you knew Simon was a man who was true to his word and once you'd tell him to leave, he would.
"C'mon..." he retracts from your neck and pulls back to look you in the eyes, his brows are furrowed and his eyes are blown out as his eyes flicker over your features like he's trying to memorize every single detail before you told him to leave.
"I..." you scramble to find the words, you wanna tell him to leave but you also want him to stay, you two didn't even end on that much of a bad note, it was a misunderstanding, a poor decision which was made in the heat of the moment...
"Don't leave..." You give in to your emotions, just seeing Simon again after your breakup hurt like hell, but god would you curse yourself if you allowed him to leave again... You couldn't take that, seeing him walk out again, leaving you for the second time.
"Fuck..." He groans as he connects your lips, his hands are pulling at you and pinning you against the wall. It's a passionate and desperate kiss from him, which you return with your own, full of want and the same desperation you craved would be quenched for such a long time. No one did it like him, no one ever loved you like Simon Riley ever did.
Your arms find his neck as your head tilts, allowing Simon to push his tongue past your lips. He doesn't let up, doesn't get up for air, he just fucking wants you, wants to take you right then and there with how much he misses you.
His hands cup your ass as he lifts you up against the all and you wrap your legs around his torso as he finally pulls away from the kiss. "I need you, baby... Fuckin' missed you too much..." he practically growled as he sucked on your neck, walking to your bedroom.
"Simon, calm down..." You mumbled as he set you down on the bed, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating but that only made him chuckle. "Can't calm down when I have you in my arms again, love" He stared down at you as he leaned back up, removing his shirt quickly.
"Missed you so much..." He whispered against your ear when he dove back down, making space for himself between your legs as he hovered on top of you with his arms on either side of your head. "Missed the way you feel around me..." He hummed while his hands trailed down your waist, to your hips, then just above the hem of your flimsy sleeping shorts.
"Did y'think 'bout me too? hm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand travelled under your shorts, his middle finger now circling on your wet clit through your panties. You didn't notice how you ruined your underwear until you felt how slick and uncomfortable it was when Simon pressed harder against your clit.
"Yeah... I did..." you whispered breathily, back arching at the feeling of Simon's thick fingers pleasuring you. He smirks, taking the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck. "Mmm... Yeah?" He chuckles against your throat, parting your slick covered panties to the side to finally tease at your wet pussy.
"Fuck baby... She missed me didn't she?" he laughs, looking down at the way his hand moved from under your shorts. "Fuckin' pussy missed me too, huh?" He chuckles, as he pushes his thick finger inside you, making you gasp and grip at his arm.
"Simon!" you shut your eyes, back arching as he pressed gentle kisses against your throat. "Relax baby... need to prepare you again, been too long since I've fucked this pretty little pussy..." He coos, adding another finger to stretch you out, curling them so deliciously inside you.
"Fuck... I-" you whimper, sucking in a breath as he finds that spot inside you that just makes you break, he still knows of course, knows every single spot and every single way to make you crumble and submit to him. "I'm gonna cum, Si..." You whisper breathlessly, hands shaking around Simon's arm weakly.
Simon doesn't say anything except give you a cruel chuckle when he waits for the perfect time, just when you're about to cum to take his fingers out and it makes you shoot him a nasty glare. "Why did you do that?!" You whined, but your voice weakens at the sight of the hard bulge under his pants.
"Don't want you cummin' on anything but my cock tonight, love..." he chuckles dangerously, sitting on his knees to unbuckle his pants. He looks down at you with a hunger in his eyes, licking his lips as he finally rolls the zipper down. "C'mon, don't just stare" He smirks, snapping you out of your trance. "Right..." you blink, moving closer to him.
"Good..." he praises as he watches you tug his pants and boxers down together and tossing it down the side of the bed. "Fuck..." He hisses when he's finally free, his dick rock hard and heavy, twitching as beads of precum roll down from the tip. Your breathing quickens when you see it, it's bigger than you remember, thick and running with veins you wish you could memorize.
"On your back..." Simon commands, his voice low as he wraps a hand around his shaft to stroke his dick slowly. "But..." you look into his eyes but he shakes his head with a mean smirk when he looks at you. "As much as I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, that's gonna have to wait another time" He chuckles, pushing you down on your back by your shoulder.
"I need t'fuck you, baby... Need t'feel you 'round my dick again..." he growls, watching the way your face is flushed and your legs are spread out on either side of his torso. He strokes his dick in his hands as he hums, using his free hand to slide your shorts and panties over your legs, throwing it with his pants.
"Fuckin' hell..." he groans when his eyes finally see your bare pussy, your clit twitching and your entrance clenching around nothing. It makes him fist his cock harder as he runs his free hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rolling it down in little circles.
"Stop teasing..." you say through gritted teeth as one of your hands grip the sheets under you and the other pressed against Simon's chest. "M'not teasing" He chuckles, tapping his dick on your clit a few times. "Just shut up and fuck me already, Simon..." You whine, slapping his chest pathetically.
"Gettin' feisty now, eh?" he laughs lowly as a low satisfied rumble comes from deep in his throat when he grinds his cock against your pussy, letting it catch your slick. "Need to take it slow, love... I don't wanna hurt you" Simon groans, aligning his tip with your entrance.
"Oh... god-" you breathe out matched with a long moan from Simon as pushes the tip in. It makes a lewd, sort of wet sound when he enters you. It makes your head spin in the way it makes Simon throw his head back as he pushes deeper until he's completely inside you with a hard thrust.
He rolls his thumb over your clit, waiting for your breath to steady. "Doin' so good, baby... Taking me so well..." He coos, pressing on your clit as his eyes narrow on the sight of your body, all hot just for him. "M-move, Si..." You whimper out, closing your eyes tightly and adjusting to the feel of Simon inside you again after so long.
Simon hums while he rolled his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out. It's slow so he can let you adjust, help you remember how good he stretches you out that it makes you all dumb and pliable for him. "Mmm, yeah... Feels so good, love" he grunts, his hips moving just a tad bit faster.
He thrusts all the way to the hilt every single time, and it feels like he goes deeper and deeper with every thrust he gives you. He squeezes at your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs even more, putting you in a mating press.
It makes you whimper the way you're starting to feel the slight pain of Simon's body pressed right into you. He's like an animal now, fucking you in such a primal way when he growls in your ear, encouraged by the delicious moans you give him and how you squirm and say his name in your breathy, fucked out voice.
"That's it, taking me like such a good fuckin' girl" He chuckles, driving his hips harder, the sound of his skin slapping against your cunt almost drives you crazy. He leans up, letting your legs rest as he massages them gently, a sharp juxtaposition from how hard he's fucking your weeping cunt.
"Needed this so bad, baby..." He groans, pulling your legs around his torso as he leans down to kiss at your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet little nothings in your ear as his hands grip at your thighs and the soft skin of your waist.
"Tell me y'missed me... I wanna hear it" He mumbles against your neck, moaning lowly. He sounded so calm and so gentle yet the way his cock was filling you up and stretching you out so good was far from gentle. "Tell me y'missed this dick, baby, c'mon..." He hums, his hand travelling up to play with your tits.
"I-I mis-" You started, but the way Simon was fucking you so good made your head spin you couldn't even string a proper sentence together. He laughed, grazing his teeth over the skin of your shoulder, "Awe can't even speak anymore?" He teases, slowing his hips down and it makes you groan in disapproval.
"Why'd you slow down..." you whine, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Wanna hear you say you missed me first" He chuckled. It was bad enough that he slowed down, but it's even worse when he pulls out and looks down at you with a cruel smirk, stroking the cock that was supposed to be making you cum.
"Tell me how bad you missed me, baby, you can do it" He laughs lowly and he doesn't look away from you as he fists his cock to the look of pleasure on your face.
"I-I missed you Simon, so much-" you moaned out desperately as your pussy clenched on nothing. You were ready to beg for his cock again if he needed you to but you didn't have to worry for long when he turned you around, stuffing your pussy with his fat cock from behind.
"Good girl... Such a good fuckin' girl, aren't ya?" His words are so dirty it makes you tighten around him with a stifled moan as he fucks you fast and deep, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle he's pounding you in.
You can't respond and all you can even do is moan and take Simon's hard dick stuffing you over and over again. It doesn't take long for you to feel that tight knot forming in your stomach and Simon can feel it too from the way you're starting to tighten around him.
"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks you with a drawn out hum as he kneads your ass, watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.
You nod, moaning into your pillows as you clawed at the sheets. "Cum for me then... Cum on my dick..." He coos, pushing your hips down to give himself a better view of your ass. Your arms give out and you're practically being fucked into the bed.
Simon chuckles, taking your wrists and pulling them towards him suddenly. It makes you gasp when you feel the pressure building in your shoulders when Simon tightens his grip on your wrists.
"Si... M'close..." Your voice comes out choked out and broken, spiking up every time he bullies his cock harshly inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"Don't need to tell me baby, just cum f'me..." He mutters breathlessly, now holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lands a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper.
You gasp as tears rolled down your cheeks from how overwhelmed you were. "Simon... Simon..." your voice shakes as you struggle against his grip on your wrists. "Do it baby, cum for me..." He hums, giving your ass a loving squeeze.
You dig your nails into the sheets when you finally feel that knot in your stomach unravel, you feel tingly all over as you cum on Simon's cock with a loud moan of his name. It makes you whine when he doesn't stop, chasing his orgasm now when he feels your pussy tighten around him so good.
"Fuck baby... That's it, that's it..." His groan turns into a drawn out moan as he throws his head back. With the way you were clenching down on him, it made him sloppy.
Simon was sounding whiny now while he chased his high. His hands were squeezing your hips as he held you down and fucked you harder into the bed. He was babbling now, about how good you felt and how you were such a good girl. All for him.
"Feel's so good, lovie... Let me cum inside, please?" He whined through gritted teeth, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "Please let me cum inside? Please, baby... Please..." He moans into your skin desperately, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
"Yes... Yes, inside..." You nod desperately, feeling overstimulated after just coming down from your high and now being used by Simon to chase his own climax.
"Oh fuck..." His voice shakes as he cums inside you, painting your walls white with his cum as he gives you a few more hard thrusts to make sure you take all of it.
"Thank you, love... Thank you" he whispers after some time had passed, giving your hips an appreciative squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you. You whined when he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless as you felt his hot cum drip from your pussy to your clit.
"So beautiful..." Simon whispers as he lays beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm hug with your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around his waist and means his head down on your shoulder to give you gentle kisses.
"I love you..." He whispered close to your ear as his hands caressed your body soothingly. You hummed in content as you relaxed in his arms and allowed yourself to move a bit closer.
"I love you too..." You say quietly, rubbing his arms which were wrapped around you. Simon hums and kisses your hair, lingering there to take in your scent. "I won't leave again... I promise" he mumbles against your hair, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly.
You nod, looking over your shoulder to give him a warm smile, you were too tired and spent to talk but you knew Simon would be able to know what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes.
He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips briefly. "And you know what's funny?" He laughed softly, raising a hand to caress your cheek, "It's Valentine's day" he looked over to the window and you followed his eyes.
The sun was starting to rise and it made you scoff that Simon really came back to you at the perfect timing.
"We're staying in, that's for sure" you laughed quietly, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as sleep slowly overtook you, but you didn't feel lonely anymore. Simon was back, and he knew he would never leave again.
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whoisshel · 4 months ago
Text
Moving Day
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bob floyd x fem!reader
When Bob told you about permanently moving to North Island, you were reluctant. For the last few years, you lived with Bob in Lemoore, you were settled there, had a life there. You and Bob even talked about starting a family there. Now that the Dagger Squad was offered a long-term position at Top Gun, you had to leave home.
This was an opportunity Bob couldn’t pass up, and you knew that but it was still hard to up and move your whole life. This wasn’t the first time you’ve had to move because of Bob’s job, this one was just the hardest. At the other bases, you never stayed long enough to settle. In Lemoore, you made friends, joined a book club and a hiking club, it’s even where you adopted Lucky, your Australian Cattle Dog. Leaving meant leaving behind the many wonderful memories you made together. Maybe this was just your stubbornness but you didn’t want to have to make new memories,
The one thing keeping you hopeful about this move was that you didn’t have to live on base anymore which is what Bob keeps reminding you on the drive to your new house as you pout, looking out the window.
“Come on, please stop pouting,” Bob begged, stretching his hand across the console to rest on your thigh, “I promise the house will make up for this.”
“Why couldn’t we get this nice house back in Lemoore.” You sassed, crossing your arms, continuing to look away from Bob.
Bob took his hand back, becoming quieter, “Because this is a better job for me.”
Realizing you’re being a little rude, you uncross your arms, turning to look at Bob and grab his hand, “I know, I’m sorry it’s just so hard to leave everyone behind.”
“I know,” Bob squeezed your hand, “It’s hard for me too, but we’ll make so many great memories here. We’ll also have a big enough backyard for Lucky to run around and for you to have the garden you always wanted.”
“That does sound nice.”
“And you’ll get to meet everyone. You and Phoenix will get along great…Hangman not so much.”
“No, I’ve been training Lucky new attacks” Turning to look at the back seat where Lucky was lying, “Isn’t that right Lucky, we don’t let people bully Dad, do we?”
Lucky sat up a bit to let out a single bark in agreement.
“While I appreciate that, let's not injure my co-workers.”
“Fine” You pouted, turning back to face the front and crossing your arms.
Bob gave your thigh a light squeeze, smiling at your goofiness. In return, you grab Bob’s hand giving him a similar smile before looking out the window.
After a short nap, you wake up to Bob lightly shaking your leg.
“We’re here.” He whispered, excitement clear on his face from his bright eyes to the wide smile stretching across his cheek.
As Bob gets out of the car to let Lucky out, you take your time to look at your new house. The house is a cute, one-floor white Stucco-style house with a gate wrapping around the back. While it’s a small house, it’s perfect for your small family.
“Ready to see the inside?” Bob asked, stretching his hand out for you to grab.
Holding onto his hand, with Lucky’s leash in your other, the two of you walked up the short sidewalk to the front door. Bob unlocks the door, holding it open to let you walk in first. Stepping in, you take in the light wood floors, white walls, and open concept with a slight wall between the kitchen and what would become your living room, the room you’re currently standing in. Walking forward to look at the kitchen, you see a sliding door to the backyard. Opening the door, you let Lucky off the leash to let him run around the enclosed yard.
“What do you think so far?” Bob came up behind you watching Lucky run around.
Facing Bob, you gave him a bright smile, “It’s perfect, sorry for doubting you.”
“That’s okay, I know picking a house without telling you was a big decision, but I wanted to pick the best house if you were going to move here for me.”
“Well you did a great job.” You wrapped your arms around his giving him a kiss, Bob pulled you in closer by your waist. “I love it.”
“Wait until you see the bedrooms.”
Shocked, you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, “Bedrooms?”
Taking you down the hall, Bob shows you the master bedroom and then a small bedroom across the hall. You stood in the doorway in awe that Bob thought to get a house with two rooms. In Lemoore, you had talked about starting a family, but with the move, you thought those plans would be put on hold.
“I thought this would be a nice room for a kid, our kid.” Bob said, standing a little behind you, “I know I’ve said this before, but I really feel like this is it, I’m done being moved around. And this house will be a great place to start a family, I mean Lucky loves the backyard. Once our family outgrows this house then we can look for something bigger. Or if you really don’t like it here, we can look somewhere else.”
To stop Bob from continuing his rambling, you kiss him abruptly, causing him to hum into the kiss.
Pulling back, you look deeply into Bob’s eyes to make sure he gets your point, “Bob like I’ve said, this house is perfect.”
“I’m glad you think so, I really like it too.”
“And I love having a backyard for Lucky.”
“I also thought you’d love to start the garden you always talk about.”
Giving Bob a short kiss of appreciation, “It'll also be nice for our future kid to have a place to play outside.”
“It would be, wouldn’t it?” Bob stared down at you with stars in his eyes.
“I love you.” You said, giving Bob another kiss.
“I love you too.” Bob replied in between kisses.
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b14augrana · 6 months ago
Text
Open Arms
Two players, one last name. Only one of you is suffering from the legacy attached to it
Alexia Putellas x sister!reader
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Warnings: angst and/or hurt + bit of an inconclusive ending lol not happy or sad kinda just… 🫠
A/N: more alexia angst in the place of aapa pt. 4! heavily inspired by open arms by sza, and i highly recommend that you listen to it because this will make a whole lot more sense if you do + it’s amazing. this song is so dear to my heart and honestly one of my favourites ever, so i had to write something inspired by it because the meaning is so deep and interpretable in many ways. this is just one of them :)
You thought that playing for Barcelona was your lifelong dream.
It was a picturesque scene; two players sharing the same last name stepping onto the pitch in the same jersey. It had been your dream at one point, until you realised the influence of your sister was leading you to believe that.
This set something off in you, like it triggered a chain reaction of thoughts and epiphanies that led up to the inevitable.
It was so hard to shine as your own individual self, when all you were credited for was the name on your back and the uncanny resemblance you had to Alexia. You were good, you were so good, but nobody ever noticed. You knew it would stay like this forever if you didn’t do something for yourself.
You could remember your hometown of Mollet de Vallès to be a place that was rife with FC Barcelona pride; it would’ve been the ultimate betrayal to your neighbourhood if you hadn’t elected to play for the club. It would be the ultimate betrayal to leave them, as well.
You were born and raised in Barcelona. The culture, the people, the club, all of it was surely intertwined into your soul. That wouldn’t stop you from running away from every bit of it and breaking out of the manacles this city held you in.
If it wasn’t for your sister and the fact that all your years spent at the club was deeply rooted in the love you had for her, you would’ve been gone ages ago.
At first, you thought you were just having one of those days when nothing felt like it was going your way, but the feelings persisted and you became more acutely aware of the real problem — you were staying for Alexia, and her feelings were beginning to come above your career and self-esteem.
You could only spend so much time in the dark before you started craving the light. Living in her shadow was simply not good enough. You had spent enough of your life feeling hopeless.
Being on the same team as her meant that the closest you’d ever get to being called good is comparisons to your sister. Alexia was La Reina. Alexia was everything. You? Well… you were barely anything if not Alexia’s little sister, the other less impressive Putellas.
Talks with your agent made the decision you had to make crystal clear; you could continue to be downplayed as long as you stay at Barcelona, or you could leave the club and feel what it’s like to be appreciated for the skill you possess instead of your relations to Alexia.
The hardest part of this entire thing? Telling her.
You could pack your things and book your plane tickets, call your agent and tell him to start negotiating with clubs, let the board know that you’re leaving for good and never turning back, but breaking the news to Alexia was easier said than done.
When you were in her kitchen one night, bearing a burden on your shoulders, you hesitated to speak. The knowledge of your career at Barça coming to an end after one more match was severing your tongue, preventing you from speaking, and eventually you’d cave beneath it and keep it all to yourself until Alexia found out in the worst way possible. The deal was done, you put pen to paper, and you were set to join Bayern Munich. All that was left to do was tell Alexia.
Bayern Munich, so far away from Barcelona, it was perfect. You could restart and build a name for yourself, completely separated from your family name. Even if Alexia did get angry, you would be in Germany within the next month (give or take a week), so what did it matter?
Part of you had faith that she’d understand, recognise your intentions and not take it to heart. The entirety of you hoped and prayed for that.
“Alexia,” you started, turning around in your seat at the dining table to look at her while she poured herself a glass of water. She hummed in response to you, as to indicate that she was listening.
“I’m leaving the club. I’ve signed it — the contract — and it’s done. I’m going to Bayern.”
She turned off the faucet suddenly, standing at the sink with her back to you. Her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly, and you could hear the deep breath she took.
“What?” she mumbled, turning around to look at you with eyes narrowed in disbelief. You glared at the table, nodding your head slightly.
“I’m going to Bayern,” you repeated, looking up to meet her now widened eyes as she placed her glass down. “I’m leaving Barça.”
She glanced at you, her eyes softening for a moment, and you could tell that she was barely registering the news.
“You can’t,” she responded, “Barça is your home, we belong here, both of us–”
There went any chances of her understanding you. That other part of you that knew she wouldn’t be rational about this, had been proven right. “You belong here, Alexia. I don’t,” you shot back, pointing at her with an almost accusing finger.
“What’s wrong with the club?” Alexia snapped. You glared at her, your angered façade crumbling away to reveal the true sadness that remained behind it.
“This club is your dream, (Y/N). I mean, I don’t get it,” she laughed, her expression seeping with disbelief, “You love it here, I love you here– don’t you remember? We used to talk about retiring here together, assisting each other and scoring from each other’s passes. Remember how you’ve always wanted to score a bicycle kick off one of my corners? Why do you want to leave, when we haven’t done all this, when there’s still so much for us to achieve?”
It wasn’t her fault that everyone kept you in the dark. Alexia would never want you at Barça if she knew this was going to happen. Still, you couldn’t cave now. There was no use in regretting anything, because it was done. Maybe if you had told her about your plans to leave, you would’ve felt this regret earlier, and things would’ve been different. Empty ‘what-ifs’ only reminded you that it was too late.
But still, her plea to make you stay was solely built on whatever regarded her. Not a single thing about what you wanted to do was taken into consideration.
“Tell me what made you want to leave, and I’ll make them change it. Just don’t ruin your career by leaving,” she continued.
“You know what?” you started, standing up so you were eye-to-eye with your sister, “I thought you out of all people would understand, but no. You’re selfish, Alexia. This is what’s best for me, I can’t stay here if I want to be any good!”
You were yelling, and you never liked to yell, but it felt like the only way to properly convey your feelings to the woman.
“I’m not even second best to you. Sometimes I feel like I’m only kept at this club to make you look good, and I am so, so sick of it. For years I’ve– I have no confidence left, no sense of pride in myself, I barely ever feel happy wearing this jersey because it’s always been your dream, not mine! I’m not the Putellas that belongs here, everyone knows that, so don’t try to make me stay because this is my only chance to be great. I want to be great, Alexia, and you should know better than anyone what it’s like to want that.”
It was only normal that you began to tear up amidst your words, and they trembled on your waterline as you spoke.
Alexia looked defeated.
More than anything, she felt unbridled amounts of guilt running rife through her. She wanted to reach out to you, hug you, tell you that everything would be alright and she never looked at you as a dim light that made hers look brighter, but she was glued to the spot, her muscles twitching and urging her to step forward with no avail.
“I love you, and I’ve stayed all this time for you. Honestly, I never even wanted to stay. You’re the only one that’s holding me down.” It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and in its place sat a mix of relief and guilt.
Alexia stayed silent, only a singular tear slipping down her cheek, the start of many that she would shed behind closed doors that night. It was more than just losing a teammate to her, and she wasn’t so emotional because her sister was leaving; it was the realisation that she didn’t know you very well in the first place, and the culpability of realising that she really had been holding you down.
That conversation was one of the last you had with Alexia in person. You played one last match for the Blaugrana, and then you left for Germany the following week.
Even weeks of knowing prior to your final match couldn’t soften the blow as Alexia stood on the pitch, clapping for you as you waved goodbye to the fans and teammates alike, tears brimming in your eyes that were akin to the ones rolling down her cheeks.
She walked up to you, and she embraced you like she never has before, like you were disappearing into nothingness instead of another country. You gripped her tightly, savouring the hug and trying to memorise the feeling, and when she pulled away, she had a pensive smile on her face.
“If you ever want to come back to me, I’ll always be right here with open arms. Cuídate, hermana.”
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
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So the mom friend!reader fic?? What if she’s sick and trying to hide it from the others, especially Aaron, while at work and also still trying being the mom friend 😭🖤
hidden efforts
AWW cw; fem!reader, being sick descriptions, established relationship (aaron and reader are married), fluff <333 continued from simultaneously
despite hand sanitizer and vitamin c, whatever cold spencer had managed to overtake your immune system next. brutally.
you woke up feeling unwell, but it was just a distant pang. nothing major, nothing worth staying home over. but as the day moved forward you began to regret your decision; you barely had the strength to lift a pen. and through the course of the morning, the trash bin hidden underneath your desk had grown dangerously full of tissues.
while you loved taking care of others, you didn't favor being the one being coddled. unless it was by someone with the first name aaron, last name hotchner. but even then, would you be reluctant to admit it.
"hey, do you know what-"
"2:30." you foolishly pushed your voice, attempting to hide the hoarseness within it - to sound as normal as you possibly could.
derek crossed his arms, amused sass in his voice, "i didn't even finish my question."
"but i answered it, didn't i?" you tried your hardest to return a teasing smile, but it was half your best. instead, you fought back a sneeze, prompting your eyes to water and nose to burn.
he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. but he dropped it quickly, moving on.
and for the meantime, you turned back to the waiting work in front of you, forcing yourself to get something done.
"hey."
aaron's voice and sudden hands on the back of your chair caused you to jump in your seat. he quickly squeezed your shoulders, silently apologizing for startling you.
"you ready...?" his voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the contents of your desk, littered with cough drop wrappers and a few scrunched up tissues.
you did your best to block the scraps from his view - leaning forward, discreetly swiping them off side towards the container holding your pens - almost letting a cough escape as you opened your mouth. "y-yeah-"
"what are those?"
"the action reports for-"
"no, not that." aaron reached forward and plucked a wrapper off your desk, holding it up between his finger pads. his lips formed into a pout, "sweetheart, are you not feeling well?"
"i'm feeling perfectly fine."
due to the wheels on your chair, aaron was easily able to maneuver you back, exposing your tissue-filled bin. "then what's this?"
"allergies?" you offered, in a hopeful tone - maybe he'd buy that?
but naturally, your husband knew better, "why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"
"i'm not sick, jus' a cold." you swiveled your chair around, peering up at him.
the back of aaron's hand found your forehead, the scowl on his face deepening at his findings. "i don't think so. you're running a temperature, and now that i have a better look at you, you're rather flushed as well."
"flushed or not, we have a meeting-"
"no, we have a meeting." aaron responded, referring to himself and the others, "you're going right up to my office and laying down."
you gazed at him exasperatedly, playing up that look in your eyes, the one that was nearly impossible for him to say no to. "aaron-"
"nope, i’m not falling for it this time," he helped you to your feet, his hand supporting the far side of your hip as you wobbled vaguely. his eyes darted to the right, taking quick notice of someone walking by, "anderson, would you mind grabbing a water bottle and bringing it to my office?"
"so much for vitamin c, huh?" derek chimed in from his desk, his playful smile also on the sympathetic side.
you rolled your eyes, but allowed aaron to guide you up the few stairs into his office, gratefully.
he insisted you lay down on the couch (and not get up for the life of you), he insisted you keep the lights off, he insisted you use his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.
"we'll head home once this concludes. if you need anything, give me a call, or send a text. i'll be here." aaron brushed your hair away from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on it afterwards. "and, choice of soup is yours tonight."
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okaysonny · 27 days ago
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okkkayy, what if jake got his gf pregnant before marriage what would his mom’s reaction be + other big deal members 😶😶?? (love your fics btww!!!)
ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY 😧 ╏ jake kim
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a/n: unserious. and thanks anon!
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you always use protection. plus, the pill is 99% effective at preventing this. and yet...
"...i'm pregnant"
★ jake stands there with a stupid look on his face because he's stupid.
★ to be honest, he doesn't want to bring a child into the world when he's leading big deal. jake wants to retire before even thinking about it. he loves you, but this isn't something he planned for.
★ has a serious discussion about the risks, making sure you understand the weight of the situation. still, he knows it's your choice in the end. once it's clear you want to keep the baby, jake respects your decision. he's the type to step up no matter what.
★ watches parenting videos at night while rubbing his temples.
★ tells minseon first 😬 this is the part that scares him the most.
★ his mom: pissed as hell 🤣
★ the second jake tells her, she puts out her cigarette with tight lips. he's already sweating.
"jake kim" "...yes, mother?" "are you telling me you got a girl pregnant before putting a ring on her finger?" "t-the thing is..." "like father, like son"
★ she’d ask all the hard questions: how are you going to raise a baby in this life? do you think this is fair to the child? are you ready for this kind of responsibility?
★ anddd i have a feeling that if you're from a 'normal' family, she'd have more reservations. not that minseon is classist, but y'know...
★ jake explains that you always did it safely, so the pregnancy wasn't from recklessness. he's aware of the risks, but it's your decision to keep the baby. he wants to step up and support you.
★ ...that does get her eyes to soften.
"well...in any case, i know you'll do a better job than your own father"
★ i think in canon right now, jake and his mother have a strained relationship. as far as we know, he only visits minseon when he needs something! 😅 + she resents that he supposedly hates his father...yet became a gangster like him and left her on her own...just like gapryong.
★ but minseon also knows that jake didn't inherit his womanizing side. she knows that he'll be a great father, even if he doesn't think so.
★ she may be tough, but deep down, she’s happy about a grandchild...even subtly offers to mind the baby if jake is too busy and you need a break.
★ she ends up cooking for you. the baby needs to be healthy.
now...he needs to tell big deal...
★ sinu would be so happy for jake. he cares about him like a younger brother, so once the initial shock settles, he’d smile and congratulate him properly.
but then it would hit him.
jake, who never seemed to care about relationships in the first place, is having a kid before him.
"god...yeonhui is gonna have a field day with this. you better start saving man. kids are expensive"
★ would yeonhui scare him as a joke? absolutely.
"sinu, what if i accidentally got pregnant? would you step up like jake?" "h-hold on..."
★ you already know jerry would do the absolute most 😭
★ immediately places a loyalty hand on jake's shoulder.
"boss…you’re going to be a father?" his voice is trembling, like jake just told him he's DYING. "i will lay down my life for this child. it is my duty as number 2" "jerry...i didn't even ask you to- are you crying?"
★ jerry starts researching baby vitamins + recommending parenting books. already thinking about making the child wear a tiny big deal jacket.
★ jason and brad feel like the same characters to me. i'm sorry. i guess jason is portrayed as more blunt and serious?
"jake...don't take this the wrong way, but i don't think you know anything about babies" "you don't think i know that, jason?"
★ the girls knit a baby blanket together :') and make one of those "we're so excited to meet you" videos.
★ jake would not half ass being a dad. he’d try his hardest to balance big deal and fatherhood, even though it won’t be easy. but the baby will be loved. from the parents, the girls and big deal.
bonus!
lineman leans back in his chair, surveying the small pile of cash on the table. "alright, i’m locking in my bet — it’s a boy"
lua scoffs. "nah, you’re wrong. it’s definitely a girl. and she’s gonna have him wrapped around her finger before she can talk"
lineman shakes his head. "a girl? we’d have to protect her from all the freaks in this city. a boy would be easier"
"a boy would be just as much trouble!" she rolls her eyes. "but imagine boss jake with a daughter. he’d be like, the ultimate girl dad"
"tch, we’ll see about that. alright, bets are at 50/50. let's see if anyone else wants to-"
"...guys" an all too familiar voice booms behind them.
lineman and lua turn to look at jerry like children caught with the cookie jar.
"you’re betting on boss jake’s child? his future offspring?" he shakes his head in disappointment. "this is incredibly inappropriate"
lineman and lua exchange a guilty glance.
lua has the courage to speak. "i mean…yeah, but—"
"shame on you two" jerry crosses his arms. "both of them deserve respect, not this gambling on their unborn child’s gender"
lineman suddenly has an idea. "so jerry...you must think it's a girl, right?"
jerry nods. "obviously. can't you see it? imagine her holding jake's pinkie with her tiny little hands"
lua smirks, catching lineman's drift as he discreetly slides a notepad to her. "so hypothetically...you'd place a bet on girl?"
he closes his eyes, lost in thought. "exactly. she’d teach him patience, unconditional love—"
lua nods, cutting him off as she jots notes down. "mhm. yeah. and how much are you putting down?"
jerry strokes his chin. "i'd say...30,000 won, easy-"
he blinks. "wait..."
jerry's jaw drops, the betrayal evident on his face. "you tricked me"
lineman grins, holding his hands up. "of course not. you just wanna see boss jake become a girl dad. that’s passion"
jerry opens his mouth to argue — then closes it. he shamefully places cash on the table.
"this stays between us" he whispers, glancing from side to side.
lua nods in satisfaction. "of course"
jason walks by, looking at the money on the table. "you guys are still on this? fine, put me down for a boy. 75,000 won"
˚⊱🪷⊰˚
jake blinks in disbelief when the truth gets exposed. "...you guys are betting? on my child?"
lineman, lua, and jason whistle, staring at the wall in fascination.
jake looks at jerry, expecting some shame.
jerry looks down, fiddling with his fingers. "...i was tricked"
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divider: @thecutestgrotto
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henneseyhoe · 25 days ago
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Childhood Friend!Terry-Drabble #1 💭
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Pairing: Childhood Friend!Terry x Reader.
Warnings:descriptions of sexual activity, cheating, drinking.
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Childhood friend!Terry whose chest hurts just thinking about you. He’s known you since he was 16, your families being friends for generations and being a close knit community, you knew him very well after years of living besides each other. A crush developed innocently turned to something that wouldn’t go away no matter how many years passed or how many women Terry ran through, though it’s not like there had been many of them either.
Even when he was working out of state, there was something that was still at home for him to look forward to, you. He counted the days on a calendar for when he could go home, finally coming to the conclusion that liking you from afar was way too childish now. He was grown, it was time to do grown things. But, when he came back, you were engaged to his best friend; Joseph.
Hm…He had no business still thinking about you anyway, right? You haven’t seen him in nearly two years and he was too busy to dwell on a childhood crush…but damn, you got finer every year. How’d he let you slip by and get with his best friend of all people? Couldn’t it have been some guy three states over? Far away so he could forget about you? Nah.
Forgetting was gonna be one of the hardest things for him to do, he was in such close proximity to you all that time that if he thought of you, he could remember how your perfume smelled. Sweet and vanilla-y, like some kind of pastry he wanted to taste, mm.
Being the best man made it no easier on him and neither was the insistence from your mother that everyone in the wedding should be staying in one big house together leading up to the big day, girls on one end of the house, boys on the other.
He’d curse the decision every nightfall when everyone would come back to the house from their daily activities, cringing when he’d see you and his bestfriend together “canoodling”. He never knew he was such a hater till this week.
“Since when did he even become a relationship guy?”
He’d ask himself, recalling his friend bragging to him about quite a few escapades he’s had while seeing this “girl”, calling her gullible and all. Terry would turn his nose up and roll his eyes. Unbeknownst to Terry until he came home, that “girl” was you.
He didn’t deserve you. You were too gorgeous, too kind, too genuine and caring. But could he ruin his friendship for a love that might be rejected (something he knew he couldn’t bare) or sit back and watch the love of his life marry a fucking idiot for the sake of minding his business like usual?
He guessed his drunken mind answered that for him, the two of you finding each other in the empty kitchen in the middle of the night. His pick of poison was brown liquor he had to find a key to even get to since it was locked up, per your mothers request once again, and yours was wine you shouldn’t have been having because of your bridal diet. You nearly finished the bottle while thinking on if you really wanted to settle for a man you didn’t necessarily trust. Before you could tell him why, he was already confirming your trust issues, and before he could apologize for blurting it out, your lips were on his and his shirt was halfway off.
Was he really about to sleep with his best friend’s fiancé? Even if it’s just for her own revenge? Yes, he was. Didn’t feel bad either.
In fact, Terry felt a surge of confidence. You told him what happened would never happened again, and he knew it was a lie. It made him smile. He basked in the fact that he knew you didn’t stop thinking about him, even after the wedding. Similar to how he couldn’t stop thinking of you.
He chuckled at the fact that he fucked you into the couch in your bridal suite while your bridesmaids and groomsmen explored the rest of the venue, only to smile in his best friends face hours later, patting him on the back as he says,
“You did good, man. She’s a keeper”
And Terry would know. He’s known for years and Joseph also probably knew that he knew, but he didn’t know the other information. Information that’d have him hunched over in tears, thinking about how his bestfriend fucked his wife before his wedding day.
How he had her telling him that she loved him, that her fiancé wasn’t half the man he was. How he spat in her mouth and let her use him to get off, not the other way around. How easily she would slip off her ring like it was something he got out of a gum ball machine. How when he was about to cum she’d keep riding and tell him the only way she’d let him is if it was inside of her.
Terry smiled about all of that and how he wanted to just tell his best friend that he fucked his wife.
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💌—ayyye new hashtag alert! 😛 i’ll be posting all my random thoughts(thots)/drabbles under this hashtag cause yeah not everything gotta be a full oneshot LMFAO
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lydiimae · 9 months ago
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Guardian Angel
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Pairing:
MDI 18+
Warnings: Opium powder use, mentions of drinking, high Benedict, Benedict being an insecure cutie pie, fluffy fluff hehe
WordCount: 2.2k
A.N: Hello my loves! I'm sorry for my lack of posting, I've been sick and I've finally started work. I am still trying to find a schedule where I can post and have time for other things. For now, have some lovely Benny fluff while we all wait for part two of Season 3 to come out. I love you! <3 P.S. Thank you for 200 followers OMG I love you all so much.
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Marrying Benedict Bridgerton was the easiest decision you have ever had to make. The two of you grew up alongside each other, the rumors of a proposal coming when you debuted, and the actual proposal occurring only two months into the season. It was an easy choice, a choice you were happy you made. He made you feel alive. He filled a part of your soul you did not know was missing before you met him. Even in the hardest times of your marriage.
Benedict, like many other men, has insecurities. He keeps them hidden well behind an air of confidence, but you know better. He never was jealous of Anthony, but rather scared that he would always be looked at as the lesser son. The spare. He just did not understand what you saw in him. He saw himself as a man without purpose, a man who could not provide the life you wanted. He believed you when you said that was not true, but there was always a little voice in the back of his mind that made him doubt himself.
You knew this well. He was less talented at hiding his feelings when he was a child and had shared many of them in your many late nights on the hills of Aubrey Hall. Though now, these insecurities only rear their ugly heads when Benedict has had a few too many to drink. Or, as is the case tonight, too much of the strange tea Colin buys him.
You get out of the carriage with your maid and footman, John, after he had come to get you claiming that Benedict had had far too much tea. A result of drunken carelessness by his younger brother. You rush up the front steps and into your townhouse, taking off your cloak before bouncing up the stairs toward his studio. You sigh as you walk in to find your bohemian husband on the floor of the studio with a canvas in front of him, smearing paint on it with his fingers without a care in the world. It would be an adorable sight if you were not worried out of your mind.
You walk to him and sit down next to him, watching as his glassy eyes sweep over the floor before meeting your own. "Ah! My love!" He exclaims, his demeanor immediately brightening as he drapes his paint-stained arms around your middle, his cheek resting against your shoulder. You hum, not bothering with the wet paint that stains the dark blue fabric of your gown as you wrap your arms around him. "I have been seeing visions, darling." He mumbles into your skin as you run your fingers through his curls.
"Have you now?" You murmur as you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips turn up into a loopy smile. The most adorable sight you have seen in a while. "Mm. Colorful visions. I had to paint them as quick as I could, had to feel the smoothness of my oils on the canvas." He says, pulling back to look at you. You grin when his eyes focus on yours, one of his paint-covered hands coming to rest on your cheeks leaving a beautiful mess of blues and purples in its wake.
He studies your face for a moment longer before crawling, quite clumsily, over to a clear canvas. "Benedict?" You call softly, moving to sit next to him as you watch a beautiful image come to life on the canvas. It wasn't anything, but at the same time, there was something so divine about how he is painting.
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After about an hour he stops, looking up at you with that darling crooked smile. "Look, Y/n. It is you. How I see you." He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. You smile and look down at the mess of colors for a moment, believing that this canvas full of swirls might truly be how your husband looks at you in this state. "It is stunning, my love." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his brow before returning your attention to the painting. "Shall I explain it to you?" He slurs, his attention solely on you.
You hum and nod, returning your attention back to him. He smiles giddily, laying back and pulling you on top of him. "It is as if... I tried to capture a dream." He slurs, pressing his lips to your nose. "A whisper of our love, tangled in colors and chaos. This mess of lines and splashes, it is you and me, dancing through the storms and the sunbeams. It is...it is us." He stumbles, weaving paint-streaked fingers through your hair. Even in his most inebriated moments, he never ceases to take your breath away.
With a wavering smile and glassy eyes, he gestures to the canvas, his voice thick with emotion, "You see, my love, it is as if you are my guardian angel. This painting...it is not just colors. It is you. You are in every swirl, every splash...." He grins, watching your eyes shimmer with tears. "You are the light in the chaos, guiding me, saving me from myself. Each stroke is like your touch, soft but powerful, keeping me safe, lifting me higher. It is a tribute to you, my protector, my guiding star. My love, my guardian angel." He mumbles, and you break.
Tears begin rolling down your cheeks and you bury your face into his neck, making him laugh, his hands smearing paint up and down the back of your gown as he tries to comfort you. "You need not be saved from yourself, Benedict." You whisper after a moment, pulling back and wiping your eyes. "My God, if only you could see yourself as beautifully as I see you." You whisper, pulling him up into a sitting position. "Y/n... I have only ever needed saving from myself." He slurs, though even through his inebriation you can sense the deep sadness that lingers somewhere deep within his soul.
"You are the most remarkable man I have ever known, and I am utterly captivated by every part of you—your brilliance, your kindness, your passion. To me, you are perfect, even in your moments of doubt and struggle." You whisper, cupping his cheeks. "You are my world, and I am here to stand by you through every storm." You vow, brushing away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks with your thumbs.
"My Y/n." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he sniffles. "My Benedict." You return, sitting on his lap as his arms encircle your waist. You shift his head into the crook of your neck and allow him to cry for a moment, rocking him side to side as he does. He rarely ever shows this kind of emotion. In a way it is comforting, to know that the man you married still feels just as intensely as he did when you were first wed. You press a kiss to his head and he nuzzles your neck.
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You sit with him on the floor of his studio for about an hour, and when he finally calms down you help him to the master bedroom. He falls back on the bed without even a sound of protest, moving his arms so you can help him undress. You grin and bend down, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you unbutton his shirt. Once it is off, you move onto his trousers. Then, when he is completely bare, you tuck his already sleeping form into bed.
You walk into the closet, laying his paint-stained clothes out on the chair for the maids to collect in the morning before changing into a nightgown yourself. Once you are ready for bed, you crawl in next to your husband, combing your fingers through his hair and watching as he smiles in his sleep. You wish that he will remember every word of what you said in the morning, but the logical part of you knows that he will not. Even so, you shall keep saying the things you did tonight until he believes them. You close your eyes, falling into a slumber right next to him, your fingers still curled into his hair.
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He wakes far before you do at the crack of dawn, a usual occurrence when he has overindulged. He groans, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead. He cannot remember getting into bed or the events that transpired before he did, though he remembers bits and pieces. The image of the deep blue gown you came home wearing, the way your hair fell around your shoulders when he ran his hands through it, the sparkle of tears in your eyes...
He sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, his eyes immediately drifting over to your sleeping figure. He grins at the image before him. You look like an angel, sleeping on your stomach with your hair sprawled against your back and your lips parted ever so slightly. His grin only widens when you let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your eyebrows furrowing. He hums as he bends down, kissing down the notches of your spine.
You wake at the tingly feeling it sends through your body, grinning at the warmth that blooms in your chest. "Good morning." He murmurs from above you, brushing your hair out of your face just as you open your eyes. "Good morning." You whisper back, your hand coming up to rest over his. He looks heavenly, the morning light from the windows behind him making him look like a God. "You are positively beautiful in the morning, Ben." You hum as you stretch out, and he laughs. "No more beautiful than you, my heart." He returns, taking you into his arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.
You smile as he sits you in his lap, your arms settling loosely around his neck. "Do you remember anything about last night?" You murmur and he shakes his head, stroking your hair. "Just bits and pieces, I suppose." He hums, yawning as you press a kiss to his forehead. "You made a beautiful painting and then made me cry with your explanation." You smile and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "I am happy to know that my poetic tendencies do not fade when I am intoxicated." He grins and you giggle. "If anything they only grow stronger." You return, closing your eyes as the two of you lean on each other.
After a moment of comfortable silence, you decide to bring up the second part of last night. "You also expressed some insecurities, Ben. Like you always do." You whisper as you open your eyes. His eyes meet yours and he sighs, pulling back to rest his chin upon your head. "You need not worry about me, my love" He murmurs and you shake your head, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "I do need to worry about you, Benedict. You are my husband. The man I am so hopelessly enamored with, the man I adore even when he is mumbling gibberish on the floor of his studio." You whisper.
He averts his gaze to your lap, playing with your fingers. "I said something foolish when I was intoxicated, Y/n. It is truly not worrisome. I do it often." He mumbles. "You said you needed saving from yourself, that is incredibly worrisome." You whisper and he sighs, looking up at you. "What if I am not enough?" He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. "Whatever do you mean?" You breathe and he shrugs. "Just that. What if I am not enough, for you? What if you wake up one day and realize that I am a man with no purpose who creates silly paintings in his studio all day?" He asks.
"Benedict. You mustn't say that." You whisper, getting teary. When he begins to speak, you shake your head bringing him closer. "When I look at you, I see a man of incredible talent, passion, and depth. Your paintings are not silly; they are a reflection of your soul, a testament to your creativity and the beauty you see in the world. Each brushstroke is a piece of your heart, and I am in awe of the masterpieces you create. Every single one." You whisper, running your thumb along his cheekbone. He gives you a wobbly smile as he tries not to cry.
"But beyond your art, it is you—your kindness, your compassion, your strength, and your gentle spirit—that I cherish most. You give my life meaning and fill my days with joy and love. Your presence is a gift, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we share. I adore you more than any star in the sky. My love, you mustn't doubt that my love for you will never ebb." You continue and he smiles through tears as you pepper his face with kisses. You stay like that for a while, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you let him cry.
"It seems I married a woman who is just as poetic as I." He whispers after a long while, making you burst out in laughter. He pulls back with a crooked grin, peppering your face with kisses now. "My love, my light...." He whispers.
"How I adore you, my guardian angel." He murmurs.
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