#their little expressions tore my heart out

[lokimobius]

"I've gotta go see what exactly it is we've been protecting for all this time." "Are you scared?" "Oh, yeah."

[kathaynesart]

Took a bit of time to myself to finally sketch out my vision for Frida based off Andy Suriano’s Farewell. More design thoughts under the cut.

I know some were wary of her appearing too feminine, but honestly I enjoyed the challenge of finding a way to feminize the base turtle model and stay true to Andy’s wonderful design. I don’t want her to just look like her brothers in a show that embraces their differences.

The biggest thing I added to her design was an exposed heart. My own little twist inspired by a real life issue some turtles deal with as well as a fitting ode to the artist she is named after, Frida Kahlo, who often drew herself with her heart floating outside of her body. (And yes I made the creative decision to keep her heart at her center as with many turtles.)

This deformity occurred during her mutation where the sudden growth spurt tore open a hole at the seam of her plastron. She has survived as long as she has because of Big Mama who uses mystic wards to keep her heart physically safe and emotionally numb. If you look closely to her plastron in the show it’s not actually a natural body part but rather seems to be an attachment of her trench coat. Likely a false cover to hide her obvious weak spot (or at least that is my head canon!)

I love the idea of her and Donnie having something they can relate to and I’m sure he���ll be happy to design chest armor for her down the line once she’s free of Big Mama. Maybe someday I’ll figure out her full Mad Dogs outfit, but for now this is just her base and bandana.

As each of the boys embodies a shape, I found it all too fitting to have Frida’s be a heart. It’s honestly a cool shape that uses both rounded forms and sharp points, which I think would encapsulate her character well. Prickly on the surface but a softy deep down. I tried to find less typical ways of feminizing her. Sharpening her beak and digits while retaining the style of feminine eyes present in most of the female cast but matching it more closely to the unsettling shape of the eyes on her assistant’s mask.

Her markings are a color flip of Mikey’s, where as his are yellow spots with orange outlines hers are orange with yellow outlines. Coupled with her yellow eyes to match Donnie and Raph, it gives her this fiery vibe that I think still sets her far apart from Mikey.

The mask was honestly the hardest part. I love that it further accentuates her heart motif and made her more expressive, but just giving her the obvious bow and calling it a day did not sit well with me. I decided to try more of a high ponytail look, but I think it still needs some work. I’m pretty sure I like her with yellow though, both as a nod to Jennika and the idea of April giving her something of her own to help form the bond between the two.

Would love to flesh her out further but back to my usual stuff first.

[elixrr]

Valentines Day：Stages of Love!

STAGES：how they fell in love (1), them as they pin for you (2), how they plan the confession (3), their confession (4)

ft：GAMING (1.8k words), WANDERER (2k words)

FIC：fluffy headcanons + their confession to you in dialogue!｜day 1 of my late valentines event...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “You received some mail...”

➥ “...Read it?”

— ➢ GAMING：

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

➥ It was spontaneous, really. It didn’t really occur to him at the time, but you had your kamera out, and you were taking photos of the scenery around you two. The day started out as a simple hangout between two friends– two best friends. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, either. You went around Qiaoying village, checking out the stalls and simply having a good time in each other's company, until you went on a small little raft with him. Sailing the lakes of Liyue, you took pictures of Teyvat's golden hour, and Gaming couldn't help but stare; he watched your light and serene smile while taking and printing photos to keep for yourself and give to him. As previously mentioned, it didn't occur to him at first, but there was a swelling in the beat of his heart, Gaming nearly thought he was sick, but he wasn't. He tore his eyes away once, and they automatically dragged back to you, like his eyes were your loyal puppy, always wanting to see you and be by your side.

Eventually, it wasn’t just his eyes that longed for you.

You were admirable in his eyes, it seemed. After the hangout, the feelings continued to linger in his heart. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, a smile broke into his expression– a little brighter than usual– and he couldn't bring himself to sleep that night. Tossing and turning in his sheets, but not from a nightmare. Gaming was horribly confused; why was he feeling like this? A slight burning feeling simmered within; if only he could hold you right at this moment.

That's when it hit. And it hit hard.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

➥ Gaming's crush on you became more persistent. He's heard a story or two from his friends and how crushes typically lasted between a few weeks to three months, and any longer than that would just mean they're head over heels. So, not wanting to push anything that could hurt later, he waited patiently— or, at least, he tried to wait as patiently as he could. Patience was something that he eventually lost. Eventually, as in, he was stripped of nearly all of his patience after the first week. Gaming was never the type to get super jealous, he loved people— he still does— and it shines in how extroverted and eccentric he is, but sometimes when you spoke to people and seemed to have more fun with them than you did with him, he would get... Rather insecure. He once asked you if you were getting bored of him, and he was immediately proven wrong.

After the span of three months was over, he still found himself head over heels for you. It chilled out a little more, he can control how he acts again, but everyone notices that extra jump in his step, the extra sparkles in his eyes when you draw near, and especially the slightly larger smile he carries around with him before hanging out with you, while hanging out with you, and just a little after he hung out with you. Gaming was adorable with how smiley he became with you around, and when you brought it up, he became really flustered. If you catch onto things easily, then you probably figured out that he likes you. If not, then don't worry because he's going to plan to confess.

Though, it takes almost a full year of having a crush on you for him to realize that he needs to confess.

There was indeed a time when Gaming thought he was going to lose his chances. You and Chongyun grew closer. Gaming didn't know Chongyun that well, but you introduced him to the small little hangouts. Gaming was fine at first, but once he was called over by one of his relatives during a stroll around Qiaoying Village. By the time he could get back to you two, you were having the time of your life, and Chongyun seemed ecstatic. Gaming knew that he had issues with his yang energy, hence why he was so composed half of the time, but to see him breaking out of that composure with you? Gaming stopped in his tracks that day. He followed behind the two of you but didn't bother to let either of you know. Of course, with a swell in his heart when you noticed him first, you brought him back into the conversation. Though, he was quieter. He was a little duller than he usual. Where did his smile go? Where did his bright, sparkly eyes go? What about that spring in his step every time you spoke to him? It's not that he lost interest in you. No, it's that he thought you were losing interest in him. Eventually, he realized that he should probably ask Chongyun if he liked you. That question took weeks to muster the courage up for.

When he got around to asking and he learned that you and Chongyun were just really chill friends, all of the spring, spark, and smile that he lost all came back to him. But now the question stood tall.

Did you even like him back?

He was advised by Chongyun and Xinqiu to confess, and that's when all of the planning began.

STAGE 3 - him planning the confession.

➥ Chongyun and Xinqiu were kind enough to help Gaming with his confession. The original plan was for him to just serenade you during a romantic ride on those bamboo rafts, but Chongyun worried for the third wheeling boatman, so they all devised a plan for the giddy Gaming. Gaming will ask you to ride a raft with him, and Xinqiu will dress up so that you wouldn't recognize him. He'll also be there for the friendly wingman support. Chongyun will have the area feel colder but won't freeze the lake itself. Even while Gaming cringed at the whole idea, Xinqiu and Chongyun agreed to it. It's too romantic to pass up, Gaming giving you his hoodie when you're cold in supposedly warm weather is too good to become a lost opportunity. The plan, after a few hours of playing cards, eating dim sum, and snacking on winter melon cakes, was set. When the weather's good, Gaming will take you out on a boat ride as per usual, but there's suddenly an expensive price for a boat ride. Before you can even think to take your wallet out, he'll whip out some mora and give it to the disguised Xinqiu, plus an extra tip. Then, Xinqiu will use a mini music box that he received from his Fontanian friend, and some cute, romantic music will play in the background. After some talking, you should be able to notice a sudden cold wind with the help of Chongyun and a wandering friend named Kazuha, then Gaming will lend you his hoodie with the excuse that he's fine and he can take the cold. This will all happen around the golden hours of Liyue, just like how it was when he first caught feelings for you, and just before sunset, Gaming will pull out a fresh Qixing by Xinqiu's area, and he'll confess. Whether or not you accept is up to you, and that alone is enough to wreck his brain.

The planning is done; the date is picked between the three, plus Kazuha's approval. All that's left is for the confession to be carried out.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

➥ Now, it was time to confess. Oh, how terrifying the thought and much more nerve-racking the feeling. Gaming met you by the river, and you looked as stunning as ever. Funnily enough, this was your usual fit, your typical and casual clothes, but something felt more different. Gaming's heart beat with love and a little nervousness. Strangely, you already had your wallet out, so on the way to the raft, Gaming was sure to keep his hand in his pocket, making sure that he had all of the mora ready for the raft payment. He kept a flowing conversation, and you, as usual, kept it cool as well. It momentarily paused when you both saw the disguised Xinqiu, but something felt off in Gaming's gut when you took his hand and lead him to the raft, which, funnily enough, was the last available raft nearby.

“Hello, my dearest friends. Would you like to ride on this fine raft?”

A smile grows on your face before Gaming can say anything.

“Yes, we'd love to.”

Your hand squeezes Gaming's tightly when you shift your gaze and smile over to him. He's distracted momentarily, blushing at the feeling of your fingers interlocking with his.

“How wonderful! That will be 10,000 mora, please.” Xinqiu politely bows with his hand out, extending towards you, and you're suddenly closer to Xinqiu to pay for the raft.

This is bad, super bad! You hand over the necessary mora to Xinqiu and wink at him, lending a hand over to help Gaming up onto the raft. You're strangely prepared for this, hell, you're even wearing... Something warm. That's. Not good. The plan isn't going the way he needs it to! Gaming watches you take the seat next to him and admire the scenery around. He's nervous, evident by how he constantly plays with his fingernails, or how his sight spills all over the place— how he flickers his eyes over to you, then to the waters beneath the gaps of the bamboo. He aligns his sight with the direction of the raft, and he watches the ripples of the water flow with the serene waters of the lake. It's calming slightly, but there's still the nervous pound in his heart.

Gaming looks back at you. You have your kamera out, and you're taking photos of the scenery with a small smile on your face. There's a bloom in Gaming's heart. He finds his gaze lingering too much onto you to notice that you've taken your own cardigan off, resting it on your lap. The Adam's apple in his throat bobs a little. He needs to confess, and it's going to happen soon— if not right now.

Your gaze falls onto him, and he nearly jumps in his seat. It's strangely quiet and rather cold. In a desperate attempt to fill the void of silence, he stutters and exaggerates a cold expression,

“It's... It's really cold now, huh? That's weird. It's awfully cold for spring!”

“In that case, here. Take my cardigan, it'll keep you warm.” You smile at him knowingly, wrapping the cardigan around the blushing, confused Gaming.

Wait, what? He was supposed to do that!

You smile at him and turn back over to the scenery around. You have your hand resting near him, and he can't help but stare at the reflection of the light lingering on your hand. It's attractive, everything about you he finds so attractive, every insecurity and every part you're proud of he takes and smiles proudly with. Gaming is deep in love with you, and it's clear as glass right now as he takes your hand in his and gently taps his thumb against your knuckle.

“Hey. So, can I... I have something to say.”

You send your undivided attention to him as he speaks. His heart pounds against his chest, and he subconsciously squeezes your hand.

“I've been thinking. We've been really close 'n cool friends for a while, don't you think?”

Darn it, Gaming, get to the point! He yells at himself, and the burn of an embarrassed blush glitters across his face.

“Listen, Gaming.” You interlock your fingers with his again, and you give him a soft, sweet smile.

“I like you, too, okay?”

And with the peck of a kiss on his cheek, a small, sudden, yet very giddy smile grew on his face. He asked for re-confirmation, and when you gave it to him, he nearly fainted on the spot with joy.

You and Gaming held hands, and a shared smile bloomed between the two of you. You leaned in for a kiss, and Gaming allowed you— but before a kiss could happen, Xingqiu interrupted with the snap of his Kamera.

You and Gaming turn around. Xinqiu smiles, taking the photo out of the kamera and hiding it behind his back, whistling as if nothing had happened.

You and Gaming realized then and there that you would thus receive the teasing of a lifetime.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “1 new message...”

➥ “...Read it?”

— ➢ WANDERER：

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

➥ Wanderer was and is a special— very special case. He's a puppet beneath the porcelain skin; there's almost nothing under it. He's hollow, meaning he has no heart. So what would explain this strange feeling within? Nahida suggested a fondness for you through the form of love, but Wanderer thought it was impossible. He's a puppet, and not only does he lack the heart to love, but he has never loved before and certainly wouldn't now.

Of course, that simply wasn't the case.

Wanderer always felt some sort of ache when it came to you. Nahida's suggestion of fondness found itself dug into his mind rent-free, even if he fully disagreed with it. He felt like you were simply more annoying than anyone else he's ever met. Yet, there was this one time that he considered the possibility that maybe... Maybe it is love, after all.

It was his birthday, and you hung around with Nahida to surprise him. The surprise wasn't anything big, but it was nice enough to have left a stain ingrained in his memory of it. You and Nahida had baked a cake made especially for him, and the party was held at a vantage point. Funnily enough, that same day was the day where he wanted to show you this exact vantage point, but you had already discovered it first. You joked that it was simply meant to be, and a faint blush dusted Wanderer's cheeks— though, he'd never admit it to be of embarrassment or love. The birthday party, as mentioned before, wasn't that big. It was you and Nahida, but there was a particular point that had Wanderer questioning if he needed a heart at all for his "possible-and-horrible-wave-of-fondness." In his eyes, it was one thing to see his semi-savior, Nahida, all giddy and happy to be able to finally celebrate the birthday of another, but it was a whole other treat to see your smile. He found himself lingering on you for too long; he felt an ache within that longed for something— even when he tried to dismiss it, that was the beginning of his spiral of love. That longing never went away. Later that day, after you had left, Nahida would tell him how easy it was to spot, but he ignored her and went off for the night. He took himself to the highest spot of Sumeru, and he sat quietly on the branch.

You were back on his mind. Your smile, your eccentric self, while eating the cake. Everything was wonderful. You were wonderful.

You are wonderful.

A smile creept in from his teeth, accompanied by a sigh.

Wait.

You're... wonderful.

Images of your smile flashed within his mind, and that same ache and longing pinged and rang within his chest, where a human's heart could have been.

A memory of Nahida's words play in his head.

“Perhaps it is indeed a sign of your fondness for them! Humans feel it for one another, and oftentimes, they refer to the feeling as love.”

Does he love you?

The ache pounds against his chest.

Oh, for archon's sake.

Wanderer's face turned red at a thought:

He really might be in love with you.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

➥ The days and weeks after his birthday, he sought you out more than he could've ever thought he would. Sometimes, he'd run into you buying groceries at the stalls of Sumeru. Other times, you'd be sitting in a small field of flowers, and he'd be flying by. You didn't seem to mind his presence, though. Actually, evident by your smiley faces and happier expressions, you seemed to enjoy it! The thought, without realizing it, made him happier than usuaI. While it wasn't evident with a spring in his step, if you looked closer, there would be a dozen sparkles in his eyes every time he glanced your way. Except, you'd know better than to get too close. Otherwise, Wanderer would've smacked you silly.

He’s become a little softer towards you than he is with anyone else. Even with his specialty of degrading everyone around him, he can’t bring himself to be rude to you in an honest way. Any harsh comment is followed by an ache in his heart whenever he sees you either pissed or bothered, and he finds himself incapable of thinking badly of you. Strangely enough, he thinks of you more than he talks to you nowadays. It bleeds into his day-to-day schedule when he’s in the Akademiya, studying for his classes, or doing his work. Wanderer doesn't really have much to do with his days. He thinks of you during classes now, too. He's unsure if you attend classes or if you've finished school, as he's never bothered to ask, and you've never brought it up. Either way, when the lectures start becoming white noise to him, he wonders if you're also in a classroom right now, bored and thinking of whatever you think of.

If only you might be thinking of him, too.

A tiny smile breaks his bored, motionless lips. The professor goes off about the lesson, and his mind goes on about you. Wanderer couldn't care less if he missed information; he understands the material anyway. He simply wants to think of you right now.

Suddenly, the students around him shoot up from their seats, grabbing their things and head for the door, and he follows in suit with the smile wiped off of his face. As he passes through the room, a few people gawk at him, but he dismisses them. Wanderer would only allow you to gawk at him.

He left the Akademiya immediately, running off to some secluded spot where the other students wouldn’t bother him and have him snap out of his thoughts. As of late, he found himself enjoying his days a little more whenever he had some time to himself, especially when he thought of you during that snippet of time. Yet, this time, he doesn’t have to simply think of you. Walking down the path to the ground-leveled city, Wanderer saw you around the corner. You were talking to someone, but a flurry of heartbeats synced with the swirling thoughts racing through all at once. The feeling gets annoying because he basically runs into you every other day, but he acts as though he hasn’t seen you in years. There’s a sudden skip in his heart that forces him down the pathway a little faster to startle you with his approach. Wanderer always found it amusing whenever you’d jump out of your skin at his sudden appearance–

But this time was different. Wanderer stopped and stood idle.

Just why was the General Mahamatra holding your arm like that? From the angle he stood at, he couldn’t see the wound on your arm, but something shot down every ounce of excitement and confidence he had in himself. He felt cheated on, but you weren’t even dating him! Cyno notices him from the distance and lets go of your arm, almost glaring at the boy. You, following in suit, turn around to see Wanderer. Even with that fabulous feeling wasted away, Wanderer still looked at you like you were the only important person to exist. You’re graceful in the way you turn his way, but your wound catches his eye quickly. Is that why Cyno held you like that? Because he was scolding you or something? Either way, that’s what Wanderer is about to do with you. He storms over to you, enraged, worried, and ready to ravage the whole universe to find who hurt you…

And it turns out it was just some Mitachurl that you abolished soon after you had gotten hurt.

“Kuni, if you’re just so worried about me, why not stick by me more often? Besides, we run into each other basically every day now.”

“You can be my travel buddy, I guess!”

“That’s stupid.” But he’d still want to be yours.

Cyno dismisses Wanderer and gets him off of your arm, and you’re escorted elsewhere (as Wanderer glares from the distance at Cyno). He thinks for a few moments but ultimately decides to return to the Sanctuary of Surasthana to pay Nahida a little visit…

STAGE 3 - him planning the confession.

➥ Nahida, when asked, simply told Wanderer to bring you over to some nice, secluded spot and tell you how he feels. He’s been told that the confession doesn’t have to be anything big, but maybe just some nice scenery would do you both some good. Wanderer slightly hoped that Nahida would tell him not to confess, but he knows her better than that. The plan, when made, was simple: he'll ask when you're free, then he'll take you to some nice spot nearby, sit you down as he takes his seat, and he tells you how he feels. 

Now, does that sound appealing to Wanderer?

No, of course not.

Wanderer would prefer it if he just didn’t tell you at all. Feelings are awkward for him because he’s not used to romance. He’s not used to anything positive or good coming his way. Wanderer has walls of brick to seal his heart away to prevent further emotional pain. There’s no way he would tear all of that down just to be with you.

“But it’s already broken!” Nahida says with a cheeky smile, startling Wanderer.

“What?”

“Sorry,” the archon giggles, “I read your mind just now. What I mean to say is that you already trust them enough as is! The walls you’ve built have already been broken?”

“It’s still stupid, anyways. What if they don’t even reciprocate? Then what would I do?”

Nahida scratches her head a little, thinking of all of the experiences that she’s witnessed over the past two years of her freedom.

“Isn’t that what confession also determines? You let them know that they like you, and then you learn if they reciprocate or if they don’t.”

Thus, after a small debate with himself and Nahida, Wanderer decided to… Simply tell you how he feels. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? Though, when he finds himself unable to bring up a potential day to choose, Nahida asks you when you’re free, and thus the plan is initiated.

All that’s left to do is wait, prepare, and execute.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

➥ The morning of the plan arose. The break of dawn and the sunrise’s sunlight spilled across Teyvat all at once. The cold corpse of the moon faded with the blue sky, and Wanderer was all but asleep. In fact, he was frantic– panicking, not even a drop of sleep soaked into him. He’s, despite refusing to admit it, terrified of meeting you at that vantage point and possibly getting humiliated after letting his feelings pour. 

Wanderer walks out of the dorm provided by the Akademiya and takes a stroll. It’s still early, and not too many people are outside yet. The air isn’t cold, it’s less humid than usual, but it’s still cooler than usual– the slightly-frosted breeze brushing against his porcelain arms. He can’t feel the cold, but he still shivers with the pressure of what might happen.

“Kuni?” Your semi-groggy voice calls out to him. He turns around, and he feels his chest nearly explode.

“You? Why are you up so early?”

“I dunno, Nahida told me to meet up with you later today, so I wanted to go out to get you something.”

Get him something? His could’ve-been-heart pounds in his chest.

“Why did you want to meet with me anyway?” You walk over to him, meeting his pace.

“I’ll tell you later. No snooping around yet.”

“Why?” A sly, teasing smile grows on your face. “Are you going to romantically confess your undying love to me under the blissful moonlight at your favorite romance novel scenery with a slow breeze hitting us? Oh, will there be flowers for me, too?” You smirk, and Wanderer looks at you with a fake look of disgust on his face. However, at that last question, he breaks his face… Slightly.

“That’s a good idea.” He quietly blurts, thinking of possible flowers to give you.

“...What?”

“Huh? What?”

“You’re planning to–” You stammer, a red blush dusting your features.

“Wha–?"

And then Wanderer realizes what he just did.

[wolviensabes]

Pajamas and Lingerie.

RQ: 'Been thinking abt the idea of the reader surprising Logan with Deadpool themed lingerie of PJs to annoy him and then BAM it’s now single wear bc he’s jealous 🤭 If you wanna write it, I’d love to see your take on this req 💖💖' - @smokeywhalee

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ; F!reader, spanking, fingering, slight orgasm denial, some teasing and dominant Logan. Did not edit, possibly later ignore errors ty.

A/N: Sorry this took forever. I'm working on multiple requests at once so I try to get out as many as I can. Jealous Lo is my fav <3 I hope it's okay I made it nsfw, I couldn't help it. I hope you enjoy this one!

WC: 2.1k

"Oh god," Logan growled out with deep annoyance and disgust at what you wore. Red pajamas with Deadpool's mask printed all over them. He could see the lingerie portion on top, and your pajama pants were covering the lacy bottoms you had on. Still, he stared with rooted irritation at the fact you were decked out in Wade's colors and his damned mask printed all over you.

"You don't like them?" You feigned, tilting your head and spinning in a circle, Logan's eyes staring at you with a blank, unamused expression. The man shifted where he was on the bed and scoffed at you.

"Where the hell did you even get those?" He asked, taking a drag of his cigar. Part of his tone said that he didn't really want to know, but he asked regardless. He had a weird feeling Wade had them made for you so it would irritate him. Well, that walking mouth succeeded in annoying Logan.

"Wade made them for me," you replied with a smile, bingo. Right on the money.

"Take that off. I don't wanna see his damn fact plastered on ya." He waved his hand at you, almost as if to shoo you away. You could tell he was starting to come to a bad mood, so you tried to sweeten it up. "I have pajamas for you too~"

His head shot up and he grunted deeply, "Hell no."

"Come on, please?" you begged, drawing out your pleads and doing the very best puppy eyes look you could muster. It wasn't enough for Logan, whom turned away and scoffed.

'That ain't gonna work, pup." He took another drag of the cigar he had and gave you a short glare. "And what did I say? Take those off. Or I will." His tone was set and firm, yet...you couldn't help but feel yourself clench. God he was hot when he was annoyed.

"What if I don't?" you retorted bravely, feeling a surge of defiance that made you feel like a brat. This unexpected challenge caught Logan's attention immediately, and he turned his head back to you with a swift, almost predatory motion. The intense look in his eyes made you stiffen, your breath catching in your throat, and a strange mix of fear and excitement boiled in your belly. His gaze seemed to pierce through you, making your heart race even faster.

"Come here." he said firmly, putting the cigar down, his finger pointing down to the ground in front of him. You stiffened and swallowed, you felt nervous but excited, looking forward to where this was going. You could see the fire burning in his eyes, staring at your choice of pajamas.

The moment you were in front of him, he grabbed you and he made a fist with his other hand, those silver claws shooting out like bullets. He carefully let them drag across your abdomen, right above the waistline of the pajama bottoms before he pushed them down and he tore them off you. The bottoms turned into stray pieces of uneven fabric by the time he was done. He let out some steam once they were off you, going as far as tearing pieces into even smaller ones.

"Fuckin' Wade put you up to this...thinks it's funny to have ya wear his face?" Logan glared up at you, "You like gettin' me worked up, is that it? You little brat." He grabbed you and he pulled you over his knee. "Well, if you wanna be a brat...then I'll treat you like one."

You barely had time to register what was going on before his rough hand came down on your ass. It didn't hurt, it was sort of like a warning or experimental smack. When his hand collided with your backside you let out a natural gasp from the sensation. Your cheeks burned from embarrassment and arousal. He took his cigar up and took a long drag from it once more, the smell took some getting used to at first, but it was more tolerable than a cigarette, plus it mixed with his natural musk well.

"Naughty girl. You like this don't you? Pissin' me off..." he growled out and smacked your ass again, a little harder this time. His calloused hand marked your ass with each smack. Those precious little sounds you made urged him on, making him smirk with satisfaction as you wriggled around. Your hands searched for something to grab, he watched the pretty skin of your ass turn red and he grinned.

"Not so bratty now, are ya?" he huffed and stopped after a handful of spanks, looking down at you as you tried to squirm out of his lap. "Not so fast, princess. Sit still and take it." Logan ordered you, feeling the round of your ass and rubbing the red skin. He dipped his fingers down and he felt between your soft legs, letting out a short laugh, nearly a snort. "Wet, huh?"

"S-shut up..." you blushed darkly from shame, you didn't know how turned on you'd be from being spanked. You hadn't been spanked before, maybe you got spanked once or twice as a child, but it was so long ago you had forgotten about it. You knew Logan wouldn't let you live this down either, he was eating this up and he'd probably tease you forever.

Before another thought could cross your mind, his thick fingers pressed into your pussy, they stroked your slit before pushing into your tight hole. It made you gasp in surprise, you were so wet he didn't have to spit on his fingers at all. Two of his fingers slowly pumped you before working up to a quicker pace. You let out moan after moan, occasionally making a sweet squeal as he expertly curled against that special spot deep inside.

"Logan! Mmn, ugh, fuck..." Your hands found the sheets and fisted them tight. Your hips lifted off his lap slightly and pushed into his hand, your clear need and eagerness wasn't unnoticed. In fact, it just urged the primal mutant on even more. His fingers curled against that spot again, making your shaking legs stiffen as pleasure shot through your body.

"There it is," he continued to curl his fingers, that sweet, spongy spot that gave you so much pleasure was being constantly stimulated. "He ain't gonna get ya like this, ever. You wanna tease me, get me to make ya shake and whine?" Logan's words filled your head but honestly the pleasure you were getting from his fingers kept you from responding normally.

"Answer me." he laid a light smack with his free hand, grunting at you. Your brain was mush, god his fingers were thick and perfect inside you. The way he was manhandling you so much and spanking you like the brat you were was so hot, your pussy clearly told him how you felt.

He wasn't satisfied with just those nice sounds you made, so he grabbed your right leg and flipped you, you laid on your back now and his fingers returned to your warm cavern, listening to how wet you sounded as his fingers worked you. "So needy...your face is so red. Do you like this pretty girl? You like when I handle ya around?"

"Uh-huh...." you nodded, pathetically trying to respond. By now your inner thighs were soaked and you coated his fingers and palm with your juices, he looked at your pussy and gently pulled up on the skin, looking at your clit. The bud was swollen and a little redder than normal, clearly wanting stimulation. He tilted his head and smiled, the pad of his thumb gently teasing it and rolling over it in circles.

"Logan!" You couldn't help the moan and buck your hips into his touch, he knew what he was fucking doing. Giving you just enough, but not too much to push you over the edge. It was so frustrating. You whined and squirmed, trying to encourage him to give you more with your little hip movements and whimpering. The bastard kept his smug smile as he watched you, feeling satisfied with himself.

"Use your words, princess. I can't read your mind, do I look like Chuck?" he carefully circled your clit with his index finger, his other hand kept two buried in your wet cunt, slowing the movements and watching your desperation grow with each passing second.

It took all the willpower in you not to scream at him to let you cum already. You knew better than to demand something from him, the more you demanded something from him, the more he'd withdraw it from you. You couldn't make him let you cum, he uses denial as a punishment, and god does he love punishing you with something so simple, yet effective.

"Don't think I forgot what you came in with. You think it's funny to tease me with something like that?" he asked, his fingers pressed up into your sweet spot, but they were still. The light pressure send electric shocks down to your toes, it wasn't enough. You needed more. You needed him to let you cum, you hoped he'd show you mercy.

Your eyes burned with tears as you whimpered and whined, really pouting like a child. Like the brat you were. The desperate, needy, pitiful little brat. It just made him smirk down at you, his hand moved from your clit to your breast, gently groping and then pinching your nipple. He listened to the new sound you made, his fingers rolling the bud around. "Maybe I'll just play with these, let you get so, so wet and beg for me..."

"Nooo," you whined, just like the needy girl he turned you into. He knew just how to work you, just what to do, just where to touch. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he memorized every inch of you. Literally inside, and out.

"Come on...beg. I know you want to." Logan chuckled and leaned closer, setting the cigar down and blowing the smoke away. The smoke tickled your nose as it barely blew over your face. "Come on...you like it don't you? Just beg, a few little words..."

"Please! Please, just let me cum already!" you whined out to him, your hips unable to keep still by now. You could feel the obvious boner in his jeans and knew he wasn't going to hold back for long if you continued your little movements.

Logan sighed, looking down and giving you a scolding glance, "No, no...that's not good enough sweetheart. Beg like you mean it." His fingers slowly began to retract and your eyes widened. All hell...

"No! Don't take them out...fuck! Fine!" You groaned loudly, "Please, let me cum...please, I need it...look at me!" You couldn't help yourself, you sounded so pitiful, your watery eyes looked at him and silently pleaded for him to make you cum.

Your pleading was satisfying enough. Logan's fingers plunged back and curled up, that sweet motion that you needed. Your gasp and eager bucking urged him on, and he toyed with your sensitive clit. His finger rubbing it in just the right way you liked. You had enough slick for his calloused pad to slide all over it and the texture of his finger felt just as good.

"Cum for me, princess. You begged for it," Logan growled out, looking at your red face, your cheeks damp from the intense pleasure. "Pretty girl, that's it...I feel you're getting close..." His fingers could feel you clenching and you were more slick now, your body preparing for your impending orgasm. Your chest rose and fell, he watched your chest as it moved and he chuckled, his fingers doing a little bit more and...there it came.

You cried out, your back arched and you moaned loudly. Your pussy tightened and you came all over his fingers, soaking his hand and lap. Your gentle voice cried his name in ecstasy, Logan groaned and he was painfully pressed against his zipper. "Goddamn..." he grunted, withdrawing his fingers when your body relaxed. He pulled his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, making you mewl and cover your face. "Good girl...look at this mess you made..."

The whimper that left your trembling lip was barely audible as you sat up and looked at the soaked spot below you, his jeans were wet and you could see his hard on struggling to remain contained in his jeans. He grunted and palmed himself as he carefully sat up, looking down at you. "I think you need another little punishment for that, don't you agree?" His dark gaze eyed the pajama pants you brought in for him, a low snarl escaping his lips and he gave a slight eye roll.

"I need to remind you who you belong to, princess...and you will wear me instead of that..." he growled, leaning over you as he pulled you closer, your bare pussy rubbed his jeans and felt how hot he was around his crotch. "What do you say, sweetheart...hm?"

"Please..." you barely got out, knowing what you are in for. Jealous Logan was about to ruin you.

"Good girl..."

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[fvllingflower]

「My Boy」

pairing: idol!joshua afab!reader

genre: smut

warning: pda, making out, boob/nipple play, spanking, groping (boobs & ass), hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap that willy), dick riding, creampie, aftercare

song recommendation: bed chem by sabrina carpenter

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You waited in the dressing room for your boyfriend who was close to finishing his performance with his team. You watched Seventeen perform on the TV in the room, you couldn't help but smile at how proud you were of them. You saw them bow and leave the stage. You stood up from the couch and stood near the entrance of the dressing room for your boyfriend. One by one the sweaty men came in but the minute you saw the face of the man you love more than anything you ran to hug him. Despite Joshua being exhausted from the performance, he still wore that beautiful smile that you love so much. As you had your arms around his waist, he had his arms around your shoulder blades.

"You did amazing, baby" You smiled happily.

"Thank you, love" Joshua kissed your forehead.

"Mm I'm so proud of you, you know that?" You moved your arms to hug his neck instead and so he hugged your waist instead.

"I know, love, and I'm so glad to have you" Joshua pecked your lips.

"I love you" You kept a smile on your face.

"I love you too, love" Joshua reached up to caress your cheek.

You and Joshua sat in the back of the van as you two went back to hotel as the others went out to eat. Joshua couldn't help but notice the baby blue skirt you had on along with one of his shirts. You were looking out the window when you felt Joshua place his large hand on your thigh. You looked over at his hand placement and smiled softly. Joshua kissed the side of your head before you went back to observe the German buildings. His thumb was rubbing circles against your thigh and he slowly inched his hand higher up. Joshua's hand stopped at the hem of the skirt and he moved his hand to hold your inner thigh and trace circles with his thumb there. You hummed softly at his gentle movements. Your eyes tore away from the window and you looked at the handsome man beside you.

"You're so handsome" You mumbled and Joshua just gave you that heart warming smile.

"Mm and you're so beautiful" He pecked your lips. The short peck wasn't enough for you so you kissed him softly. Joshua smiled as you kissed him and he moved his hand off your thigh and onto your hip while your hand rested against his cheek. You two continued to repeatedly kiss slowly and just enjoy the closeness. His hand began to rub your side in a slow pace. Your hand moves to rest on his shoulder as you continued to sensually kiss. Joshua's hand slowly creeps up from your side and up to your chest where he cups your breast. You broke the kiss and grabbed his hand.

"Uh-uh-uh, not here baby" You whispered against his lips. Joshua whines softly but agrees.

"Okay, love" Joshua slightly pouts and you pecked his lips.

"I love you" You smiled softly and that got rid of his pouty expression and turned into his gentle smile.

"I love you too" Joshua pecked your lips.

You two got back to the shared hotel room and Joshua quickly went to plop down on the bed. You chuckled softly at his behavior and quickly followed behind and laid down on the bed. Joshua turned his head and smiled at you. He proped himself up on his elbow as his free hand rest on your belly and then on your side as you roll on your side to face him.

"You look really good in my clothes" Joshua mumbled softly. You cracked a smile.

"Mm I know, baby, you never fail to tell me" You looked at him with loving eyes. Joshua chuckled softly.

"Can't blame me, I just want to tell you the truth" You couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Well I appreciate having an honest boyfriend" You scooted closer to him.

"Mm I'll always be honest with you, that's a promise I can keep" He smiled and pulled you flush against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled softly.

"Good" You whispered before pecking his lips. Joshua moved to sit up in bed and he picked you up and made you straddle his lap. He kept his arms around your waist to keep you secure and you hugged his neck to stay in place.

"You look so pretty when you're in my lap" Joshua smiled softly.

"Mm I know, baby, you like it when I'm close to you" You smiled at him sweetly.

"Of course I do. Who wouldn't want a goddess on her throne?" Joshua gave you a cheeky smile.

"My throne is your lap?" You mirrored his smile.

"Mhm, indeed" You leaned down and kissed him softly.

"You know, it's even better when the goddess shows off her complete beauty" Joshua whispered against your lips before kissing you again. You knew Joshua was referring to you being completely naked while on his lap.

"Mm but I think it's more exciting when the goddess is completely covered and slowly reveals her complete beauty" You whispered seductively against his lips before kissing him again.

You two went back to the slowly, sensual kissing like you were doing in the car but this time there's no restrictions. Joshua's hands roamed your back and his hands go under your skirt and lands on your ass where he gently squeezes the flesh. After a few squeezes on your ass, his hands went back to roaming your curves. He held onto your hips for a while until his hands decided to go to your breasts. Joshua cups your breasts and this time you didn't stop him. He began to squeeze your tits as you continue to slowly make out. You quickly stripped your shirt off and revealed your bra. Joshua began to press gentle kisses against your neck while his hands continued to play with your tits. You were smiling with pleasure as he continued to touch and kiss you. You tugged on his shirt and helped him strip it off. Joshua reached behind you and in one swift motion, he unclasped your bra and threw it on the floor.

"Mm so pretty" He began to knead your tits. You could feel your breathing getting heavier from the pleasure.

"You have the most perfect tits, love" Joshua rubbed his thumbs over your sensitive nipples which caused you to gasp.

He kissed you softly as he tugged at your nipples. Joshua wanted you to gasp and moan in his mouth, he wanted to swallow your pretty noises. He broke the kiss and leaned down to take one of your tits into his mouth. Joshua begins to suck on your mound and his tongue teases your sensitive bud. You were moaning softly as he teased your nipples with his mouth and fingers. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he began to roughly tug and nibble on your nipples. Joshua slightly pulled on your nipple with his teeth causing you to gasp in delight. He popped your tit out of his mouth and scattered kisses against your chest while his hands roughly kneaded your tits.

"Mm am I making you feel good, darling?" Joshua presses kisses up your neck.

"Shit...yes, baby" Your voice was airy.

"I can tell...I love seeing you enjoying yourself" Joshua nipped at your neck. You gasped feeling his teeth on your skin again.

"I love how responsive you are" He whispered against your neck before leaving a mark there and pinching your nipples.

"Uuh...shit" You moaned softly. Joshua's hands trail down from your chest to inside your skirt. He felt how wet you are and he smirked, loving the fact he is causing this. Joshua began to rub your clit through your panties. You laid your forehead against his shoulder while your hands grips his biceps. You were moaning and letting out profanities against his shoulder as Joshua continued to use his skillful fingers.

"You sound so pretty" Joshua continued to leave love bites on your skin while playing with your clothed clit. You continued to moan softly at the pleasure.

"Can't help myself when you look so sexy in that skirt" Joshua continued to whisper dirty praises.

Suddenly Joshua pulled you off his lap and made you sit beside him and he quickly stripped your skirt and panties off. He wrapped his arm around your waist, he spread your legs wide and let one leg rest on his lap. Joshua began to make out with you as his fingers went back to playing with your clit. He was swallowing your moans as he continued to attack your lips. Joshua without warning pushed two fingers into your hole and began fingering you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and continued to kiss him while moaning into his mouth. His hand that rest on your waist move to cup your tit and kneading the mound. Joshua wanted to continue adding to your pleasure, he loves making you feel so good. Joshua increased the speed of his fingers as he added a third finger into your hole. You broke the kiss and moaned a little louder than normal. Joshua started whispering dirty things along with sweet praises in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you and pinching your nipple. He felt your walls clamp around his fingers and he knew you were close. You moaned loudly as you came undone on his fingers. Joshua continued to thrust his fingers into you as released.

"Look at you...so pretty and messy for me" Joshua nipped at your neck and pulled his fingers out of you and sucked his fingers clean. You were smiling as you were panting. Joshua leaned over and kissed you passionately, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You held his face as you kissed him as his hand rubbed your side. You broke the kiss and smiled at him.

"Need to ride you..." You whispered against his lips and Joshua smirked.

"Yeah? Need to ride me? Going to show me how bad you need me?" He spoke in a seductive way as he pulled down his sweatpants and boxers. You helped him strip them off and throw them on the floor. You looked at his hard erection, how red, veiny, and thick he is. You got back on top of him and let his dick stretch you out.

"Uuuh...you're so warm" Joshua groaned. You begin grinding your hips in a desperate way. Joshua gripped your hips and helps you ride him.

"Oh fuck, love— look at you, riding me so well" Joshua groans as he praises you. Joshua leans down and sucks on your tit as grind your hips.

"Uuuh Joshua..." You moaned softly. Your nails digging into his shoulders. After a few nips and tugs on your nipple, he pulls away and pulls you into a heated kiss, your hips not stopping their movement for a second. His hands traveled down your chest, to your side, and to your ass. Joshua starts gripping your ass, helping your movements, and spanking you every once in a while.

"Ahh fuck" You moaned louder. Joshua wrapped his arms around you as he laid back on the bed and he grabbed your hips and began bouncing you on his cock as he thrusts upwards.

"Oh fuck— Joshua" You cried out in pleasure as his sharp and rough thrusts. You threw you head back and letting out your loud moans.

"Fuck— so good" Joshua groaned loudly. He loved watching your tits bounce in a rapid pace and feeling your ass shake as he fucks you good.

"Ahhh— Joshua" You moaned loudly, not caring if anyone in the hotel could hear. Joshua felt your walls clamp around his cock, making him moan loudly. He knows you're close and he loves it. Joshua slows his thrusts, taking it slow. You leaned down and gripped his shoulders as you start bouncing your ass on his dick. You were desperate for your release and Joshua threw his head back.

"Oh fuck— ride that dick, love" Joshua groaned and slapped your ass, encouraging you to go faster and that you did.

"Ahh fuck!" You moaned directly in his ear. Your movements became sloppier as you got closer and closer to your release. Before you could warn him, you came on his cock and Joshua sat up to leave a hickey on your collarbone as you sat there on him. Joshua began to thrust up inside you again and this time you hugged his neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck. He gripped your ass, helping you bounce on his cock as he thrusts upwards.

"Uuuuh— Fuck, you feel so good" Joshua groaned as he got closer to his climax. You were moaning softly against his neck. Joshua thrust up and stays in place as he fills you up. You whimpered softly and Joshua moaned as he came inside you. He relaxed his body and let you relax against him while his cock was still deep inside you. Joshua was scattering delicate kisses across your shoulders, neck, and cheeks.

"You're so beautiful" Joshua whispered as he rubs your back and you snuggled closer.

"I love you. You're so precious. All mine" He whispered some more praises. Joshua lifted you up and pulled out of you, letting your mixed releases spill out of you.

"Mmm..." You whined at the lose of fullness.

"Shh...it's okay, just relax, love" Joshua whispered and kissed the top of your head while rubbing your back still.

"You're so beautiful. So beautiful and all mine" He pecked your pouty lips which made you smile lazily.

"There's that beautiful smile" Joshua smiled seeing you smile.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up" Joshua kissed your forehead and carried you into the bathroom.

You two took a shower together and Joshua helped wash you. After the shower Joshua helped dry you off and put some clothes on. You two laid in bed, you were wearing one of Joshua's shirts and some clean panties while Joshua only wore some basketball shorts. You were cuddled up with him with your head against his chest, arm on his side and leg draped over him. Joshua kept his arms around your waist and gently rubbing circles on your back. You had a lazy smile on your face, just feeling content and loved.

"I love you" Joshua kissed your forehead.

"Mm...I love you too" You hummed softly.

[latin5mamii]

camera

warnings: fluff yet a bit smut

genre: Jude Bellingham x reader

summary: You two really needed a camera that holds all of your memories, even the intimate ones...

author's note: late night thoughts pt.2 😉

“For my favorite photographer,” Jude announced as he breezed into your bedroom, a large parcel cradled in his hands.

You looked up from where you were lounging on the bed, a book splayed open on your chest. The soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a dreamy halo over everything in the room. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you set the book aside and propped yourself up.

“What’s this?” you asked, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Jude’s grin was both mischievous and affectionate as he settled on the bed beside you. His hand found its way to your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. “Just open it. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You could barely contain your excitement as you tore off the wrapping paper. There, nestled inside the box, was a beautifully crafted, leather-bound camera. Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked at Jude with wide, delighted eyes.

“Jude, it’s amazing!” you exclaimed, your heart fluttering with joy.

His smile deepened, and he leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours. “I thought of you as soon as I saw it.”

Moved by his thoughtfulness, you leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, your heart swelling with affection. “We have to try it out right now,” you said, pulling back with a playful sparkle in your eyes.

With a laugh, you both began to experiment with funny poses. The room soon filled with peals of laughter as you struck goofy poses and made exaggerated faces. Jude mimicked you with his own brand of silliness, and the camera clicked away, capturing every joyous moment.

But as the minutes passed, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The playful energy began to morph into something deeper, more intense. The smiles lingered a bit longer, the touches became more charged with a burgeoning desire.

Jude’s fingers brushed against your arm, the touch electrifying and intimate. He leaned closer, his voice a low, velvety murmur that sent a thrill through you. “I think it’s time we tried something a little different,” he said, his gaze filled with a promise of unspoken things.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine. You nodded, your eyes meeting his with an unspoken agreement. “I’m all for it.”

Jude’s arms slipped around your waist, pulling you close. His breath was warm and tantalizing against the back of your neck, and his fingers traced the curve of your shoulder before sliding slowly down your arm. The touch was feather-light, sending a cascade of tingles through your skin.

With a playful tilt of your head, you looked at him, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Let’s make this special.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you. The camera clicked, capturing the tender moment before his lips descended onto yours. The kiss was deep and passionate, a merging of warmth and urgency that made your heart race and your breath catch.

The camera continued to click, each photo freezing the fervent intimacy between you. His hands roamed over your body with a mix of tenderness and fervor, and the kisses grew more intense, more desperate. The camera captured every moment: his fingers tangled in your hair, your bodies pressed close, the way his lips moved against yours with increasing intensity.

In one photograph, Jude’s hands were wrapped around your waist, his lips barely brushing yours as he gazed at you with an expression of pure devotion. In another, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, his eyes shining with adoration as he held you close.

You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss. His hands traveled up your back, guiding you gently to lie down on the bed. The camera flashed again, preserving the tender moment as you both lay side by side, your faces flushed with passion and joy.

Jude’s voice was a soft whisper as he cupped your face,

“These photos are going to be my favorite memories,” he said, his voice thick and low.

You smiled, your heart overflowing with love as you kissed him deeply, you murmured against his lips,

 “Mine too”

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Cold-hearted Wolf

Master list

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Martell princess reader.

Tags: Angst, fluff, arranged marriage, eventual smut, cregan is repressed and mean at first, then falls for the reader.

All fiction, the reader is a made up character. Im a long-time reader, but first-time writer.

Chapter 2 - war council, sexy sparring, and a confrontation.

Cregan Stark stood at the head of a large wooden table, surrounded by advisors and generals. His dog sat obediently beside his chair. The table was spread with maps, denoting positions, and pathways. Cregan's fingers traced a potential route, his eyes focused.

"This pass," he began, pointing to a narrow way in the mountains, "Will be our best chance. It's least expected. We'll split our forces..."

Before he could continue, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your curious gaze taking in the scene. You curtseyed before the council, approaching the table with measured steps. Cregan's pet waddled over and nuzzled against your dress, letting you scratch behind his ear.

Cregan's brow furrowed. "My lady," he began, his tone polite but firm, "This is a war council meeting. It's not a place for a princess."

There was a murmur of agreement from some of the men and women, while others looked away, not meeting your gaze.

You swallowed the insult, whether he intended it or not, hoping your confidence didn’t waver as you offered in turn. "In Sunspear, my father’s council valued the insights of all, regardless of sex or stature. I've studied battles since I was little, my lord, and strategies. My input might offer a fresh perspective."

Cregan hesitated, raising a brow in trying to assess when their or not this information about Dornish customs was true.

"Your highness." One of the generals, an older man with grizzled hair, grunted, "There is no harm in hearing the lady Stark, my lord. The Dornish have a way with unconventional tactics."

You held your tongue from telling the general the tactics only seemed unconventional to him, but in the south, they were quite practiced. You were grateful enough that he spoke in your defense.

After a long pause, Cregan finally nodded. "Very well. Speak your mind, my lady."

You smiled at your husband and approached the maps. With a glint in your eye, you began outlining your thoughts, suggesting alternatives and considering Dornish strategies that the North had made full use of. The room slowly grew quiet, listening cautiously to your thoughts. As you spoke, you glanced around the room to get a take of the atmosphere. Some members of the council sat with skeptical looks, questioning your suggestions, others with furrowed brows of concern.

You spotted your husband, whose eyes followed the map where you were pointing out battle formations. You didn’t expect his eyes to snap up to meet yours, the cloudy storm in them rendering you speechless for a moment.

You stuttered in the midst of your sentence, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You cursed yourself inwardly when you saw the corner of his mouth perk up. He was laughing at you. No matter how you have brought the room to silence, Cregan still didn’t take you seriously. The embarrassment and humiliation made you all the more self conscious as you thanked the gods that one of the generals, the same one who had stood up for you, took in one of your suggestions and began to talk it over with the council.

“If I may, my lord.” He began to talk to Cregan, whose eyes and condescending smirk were still on you. “The merging of Dornish and Northern tactics might just be the edge we needed.”

Cregan finally tore his watchful eyes away from you, and you took in a deep breath. “Tradition had its place for a reason, don’t you agree, Ser Robert?”

The general nodded, albeit giving the lord a knowing look. “Sometimes, the winds of change bring unexpected allies and advantages.”

Cregans gaze switched back to you. “Aye, sometimes.” His expression unreadable once more.

----------------------------------------------------------

The courtyard buzzed with activity, men-at-arms training for the looming battle. At the center, Cregan Stark and his kingsguard, Ser Jon, clad in their sparring breaches and boots, moved with a fluid grace, each thrust and parry a testament to their combat training. Steel against steel echoed off the ancient stone walls.

Watching from the sides, your eyes traveled appreciatively over Cregan's physique, particularly the way you could see every tensed muscle of his arms, chest, and abdomen as he carried out perfected movements. Beneath your admiration, however, was a desire to humble him after his dismissal of you in the war council. To make him turn red for once.

Walking forward to the table decorated with weaponry, you picked up your favored curved Dornish blade, sharp and deadly, a gift for Cregan from your court.

You slowly approached the sparring duo. "Care for a challenge, my lord?" You were happy your voice didn’t waver.

The knight and lord Stark paused their fight, lowering their weapons, the courtyard going silent. Cregan tilted his head to meet your gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're not dressed for it, my lady. That gown looks too precious to risk-"

Without a word, you grabbed the hem of your gown and tore it, fashioning a makeshift skirt that allowed for movement. You barely felt the cold air as the adrenaline rushing through your veins brought a familiar heat. The gathered crowd murmured around you.

Cregan caught himself staring at you but recovered quickly, chuckling. "Spoiled princess, tearing such fine fabric.”

You exhaled sharply at the comment, feeling again as if you were a misbehaving child being disciplined. You were going to enjoy this. “My lord,” You put up your blade and held your stance.

“Alright,” Cregan held up his sword and got in position. “If you are so eager to prove a point."

You advanced, your blade zooming in the air. The courtyard crowd drew back. The initial clash was swift, Cregan clearly taken aback by surprise. You ducked under his strikes, retaliating with speed. A well-timed move saw Cregan on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He only stayed that way for a moment, though, quickly getting back up.

"I am every bit the warrior you are," you insisted with conviction as the two of you circled one another.

Cregan recovered quickly. With newfound respect, he launched a fierce counterattack, which you blocked.

Of course, Lord Stark knew nothing of the discipline Sunspear princesses have received, including battle strategy and combat. You were glad you at least got to see the surprise in his features when you dodged his attacks masterfully. Your old teacher back home would be proud.

Blades blurred in the air as you fought. But Cregan's strength and experience began to tell. With a deft move, he had you pinned against the hey covered ground, his hand reaching around your back to put a buffer between you and the ground.

He inched towards you until you were a breath apart, making you breath hitch. "Being a good sparring partner doesn't make you a good warrior, princess," he breathed.

Your cheeks burned, but you were determined to get away victorious. With a sudden twist, you broke free, using your legs to flip him onto the ground as you rolled on top of him. Cregan found himself on his back, your curved blade cool against his throat. He looked up, not just into the eyes of a skilled fighter, but a woman who had quite literally kicked his ass, even if it was by fighting dirty.

You looked down at him, but something made you pause. His wolfish grin was back. His eyes wandered slightly, noting the way your dress had ridden up, scandalously, you realized, revealing your legs. You tried to ignore the feeling that look of his stirred within the pit of your stomach.

"Don't underestimate your opponent," you breathed, fighting a smile. You missed the rush of fighting. Feeling brazen, you leaned in closer until you were sure only he could hear. "You rely too heavily on might. Long-range combat is key to reducing casualties. Thank you for granting me the honor of sparring with you."

With that, you rose gracefully, leaving a dazed Cregan on the floor.

----------------------------------------------------------

The flicker of candlelight lit up your bedchamber in a warm glow. On the table, maps were sprawled out in detail. Concentration etched your features as you calculated troop movements, supply routes, and attacks.

The door creaked open, revealing Cregan Stark, his eyes heavy and ready for sleep after his wash, his hair tied messily behind his ears and falling lazily over his forehead. “I must accompany Ser Robert tomorrow to the front.” He said.

"Look," You pointed to your notes. "This regiment, right here."

He glanced over, brows furrowed. "That's too many men," he said, his tone sharp. "I won't needlessly risk Northern lives."

You met his gaze evenly. "Victory requires the right numbers. And this is the number we need."

"The numbers ‘we’ need," he shot back, echoing your words. "These are people you are sending to their deaths. Offering up thousands of Northern lives like its nothing."

"No!” You stood your ground, chin raised defiantly, though your lower lip began to tremble. "It's almost as though you have forgotten that I am your wife, Cregan Starl! These people, your people, are mine now, too. I value them as much as you do!"

His grey eyes stormed at your words, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt with him.

You stepped closer,your voice finding its confidence. "From the moment I've arrived here. You… you've treated me with nothing but disdain! Dismissing my opinions, underestimating me, and ridiculing me in front of your men. The only respect you showed was when we sparred. Is that the only language you understand?"

His icy facade wavered, guilt flickering in his eyes. "y/n," he began.

But you weren't having any of it. “Please, just listen!"

While you still had his attention, you launched into your strategy, outlining troop movements and battle formations and emphasising the importance of long-range weapons.

“The longbow may work in the windless desserts,” he interrupted. “But the climate here is different.”

“We make use of trebuchets then.” You insisted.

He blinked at that. “Perhaps,”

As the two of you spoke, exchanging ideas back and forth, the plan became clear. Cregan, for the first time, truly listened, no belittling smirks, or jibes.

“With this plan, more lives could be spared. Our men can come home.” You finished, with nothing more to add.

You looked at him for either approval or dissatisfaction. Anything to give you a sign of what he thought. But his face was unreadable as he leaned on the desk, studying your combined notes. His mouth remained in a hard line, but his eyes, plagued by grey storms, were on you.

“Cregan?” You asked, urging him to share his thoughts.

Cregan took a step towards you, closing the distance between you two, his hand lifting your chin up and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

You gasped, your limbs temporarily going numb with sudden warmth as his soft lips moved roughly against yours. This man didn’t kiss gently. He was roughened up by his environment and did not hold back. Just as he handn’t on his wedding night. Only now, it was different. Now, he seemed like he actually wanted to be kissing you.

Your hands grasped at his wide shoulder to balance yourself. “Cregan…”

Your initial surprise melted after a moment, giving way to desire, and you responded with equal interest, kissing him back. His hands found your hips and pulled you sharply against himself, tightening around you. You felt hard muscle. The man was all rough edges and cold demeanors, but right now, he was warm. This was the passion you'd yearned for, the connection you'd dreamt of.

Outside of the boarded window, you overheard the sounds of the night, the whistling win, the sound of owls hooting, and echoes of a wolf howling from a distance. Suddenly, Cregan pulled away abruptly, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

“Y/N,” he began, breathing unevenly. “I cannot…”

“What?” Your voice broke, dreading the rejection you knew was coming.

“You regret our union, dont you.” You said finally, tired of waiting for his response.

He looked up at you with furrowed brows. “That is not what I-

You shook your head, eyes on the floor as you tried to calm your racing breaths. “Its alright.” You reassured him, hoping it would make it easier to be truthful with you. “You hate that I'm not a Northerner. That I'm not your equal.”

You watched as his handsome features hardened into anger. As if you had just said something extremely stupid.

He took two steps and backed you against the wall. Gasping, you blinked up to meet stormy grey eyes staring down at you.

"My land is in crisis," he finally said, his voice raw. "I can't afford to be distracted by such… dramatics. If you wished for constant passion and fire in your marriage, I'm afraid you ran out of luck with me, princess."

Before he could say more, and having heard enough, you gathered the maps on the table and shoved them into his hands before storming out of your bedroom door, leaving him alone in the candlelit room, your ego bruised and your emotions in turmoil.

[bunnysbrainrot]

Friendly Competition

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Content: Explicit sexual acts, Jackson!AU, no use of y/n, jealousy and angst, mentions of alcohol consumption/intoxication, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, soft dom Joel (lowkey)

Summary: It was difficult, but Joel had to set a boundary, one he's having trouble adhering to. And back in Jackson, things aren't any easier. When an old friend comes around, it muddies the waters. Joel tries his best to assure you that it's not what it looks like, but you won't be easily swayed.

Word Count: 5.4k +

Looking for the other chapters? Click here to find them on my masterlist

The ride back to Jackson was much brighter than your journey out. Fluttering in your chest kept you on edge, buzzing down to your fingertips, coursing through you like small bursts of lightning. All over one simple kiss.

Though it had been anything but.

Twenty minutes ago, Joel had you pinned on the wooden fence, moving his lips in tandem with yours, shattering your plaguing tension. Joel wasn't sure when, or if, he'd have made a move if he didn't seize that opportunity. He would've cursed himself if he hadn't tried.

And to his surprise, you had given him everything in return. You accepted his kiss with a dying thirst, and the passion had been for him. Someone, knowing so little of his sins, of his regrets, would give their love so freely. Someone wanted him.

His hands gripped the reins as the edge of Jackson came into view. He had a thousand things to say but didn't know where to begin.

He detested that it had to start here.

He spoke up finally, breaking the calm silence, "Listen, I think we should talk."

It didn't take you by any surprise. Even still, your heart sank.

You made the daunting choice to face him, inviting the conversation. You were asking for the dagger of newfound love to pierce your chest, for it to carve you open.

"Okay," you replied, coaxing your voice into neutrality.

The effort was in vain. There was a tightness in your throat that couldn't be shaken. Your voice shrank, barely coming out as a squeak. The sudden shift didn't go unnoticed by him. What expression of joy that had been there before had been replaced with worry. Joel's eyes averted to the ground. He hated this. Knowing that he spurred on this whole... situation, and worse, that he'd be the one to shatter the hope.

And fuck, the look on your face.

Joel made himself bear it. This was his punishment.

He sighed, "This... what happened back there.." He gestured between you, his words failing him.

The birds chirped happily around you, the only sound filling stagnant space. His half-dead sentence hung with his head. With aching pain in your chest, you finish it for him. You stilled your expression and resolved yourself to turn away. The words feel distant as you say them. They weren't yours - borrowed from the times you'd been through this before.

"It was a mistake."

He was thankful you weren't able to see him wince. Joel digested the words, but showed no agreement to them. He refused to let that be the truth. His breath came out slowly, exasperated.

"You got a habit of finishin' people's sentences, y'know that?"

The jab would've made you laugh were it not for the hole in your chest. And despite the effort made to lighten the mood, the pang of regret in Joel's chest grew.

He continued, voice terse, "If you think it was a mistake, then we can forget it. But, regardless-" he stopped himself, searching for the gentlest words. A way to make this painless.

"It can't happen again."

Telling yourself it was a mistake had not made it true, and had not prepared you for those final words. They were a death sentence.

You still held the lead, but you no longer feel his stare, the occasional glance. You were thankful for the distance, for the small amount of privacy it gave you to let welling tears fall. Jackson loomed even closer, just minutes away if Belle were to go at full speed. A frantic urge tore at you to race ahead, like breaking away would erase what happened - like it would take back what was already said and done.

There were a million things to say, but you knew it wouldn't change his stance. You mustered a small, simple nod. Joel didn't expect much after a blow this low. He understood the silence, for whatever reason you needed it - he anticipated anger, hoped for it, even. Welcomed it. It would give him closure after the shitshow he created.

If you left, forgot about all this trouble he caused, Joel could shift his focus elsewhere. It had been a futile effort since you came to town. You were a distraction. The worst kind.

It was enough justification, Joel thought, to be okay with this. To let things between you go stale. Untouched.

Dismounting Belle back at the ranch relieved your body, but your mind and heart were different matters. Joel dropped from his horse without a word, already started on the process of unloading his gear. You watched him as he's turned, noting a lower slump to his shoulders.

You shifted your attention back to Belle, mindlessly disassembling her gear. Your fingers fumbled dumbly with the buckles of her saddle, new tears blurring your vision. The silence between you and Joel this morning had been uncomfortable, but this....

Silence like this was far too heavy. It held too many unspoken words, and even more questions.

The quiet was no longer an issue when a new voice rung around the stables, cheery and bright.

"Joel!" It was the voice of a woman, "Oh my gosh, back already?"

You peered around Belle just in time to see her arms wrapping around Joel's neck, giving him a close hug. The stranger let out a delighted giggle before she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Joel murmured something inaudible that broke the embrace.

Her small talk was empty save for obvious flirtations, her voice turning whiny and playful as she spoke. You couldn't help but cringe at her sickly sweet tone, the incessant pushing. Joel said very little, but that stupid grin never fell from her face. Her wide, green eyes drank him in. As if you weren't even there, ten feet away, privy to it all.

Bitch.

With an undetected sneer, you finish unloading and take Belle's lead in hand. You settle your rage to simmer beneath the surface while you lead Belle out of the stables.

--

This was the last thing he needed right now. But here she was, thrown around his neck unashamedly, as if she'd been waiting so impatiently for his return. A slap in the face, compared to the situation he'd put you in an hour ago. You had truly been waiting for him. It had to be some sort of cosmic joke.

Joel placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a wry smile.

"Wasn't gone that long, Georgia."

Her eyes brighten hearing her name on his lips. The smile she wore was a stab to the gut. It shouldn't be her that was beaming, welcoming him, showing concern for his safety. Hers was not the face he wanted to fantasize about throughout his day. To come home to.

He patted her shoulder, hiding his contempt with a softer, weary smile, "Pretty tired after today, sorry. Not really feelin' it."

This wasn't the first time Georgia had been this doting. But the openness of it irked him, especially with the present company.

"Hmmm.... Sounds like someone needs to unwind," she suggested, lips tugging into a smirk. A serpentine look with her eyes crinkling proudly while a greedy smile formed. She always had a deeper motivation. He saw that spark igniting in her mind.

In the past, they had shared their need for intimacy - they fulfilled that need many times. She was a nice enough girl, he supposed. Joel thought it would be simple. No strings attached.

If he didn't turn her away soon, there was no telling how this evening would go. His need for a distraction almost tempted him into agreeing, but a flare of guilt in his chest instantly washed away the idea. It was unfathomable to think of this woman when you were so close by. And not when he was trying to still the feelings you'd brought about for him.

He stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest, "Tonight's not the best night. Gotta do a raincheck this time."

Even still, her smile didn't falter. If there was one thing she was worst at, it was taking a damn hint.

Georgia's eyes dart to the horse that started to leave the stables. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, her eyes wide in amusement. She whispered to him, pointing to the horse and who was guiding it outside.

"Uh oh, apparently we had company~"

Joel knew of said 'company'. Glaringly so.

He steeled himself as he joined Georgia in watching you leave. He noted how she watched you go with satisfaction, how her smile grew once you rounded the corner. Her joy was in such stark contrast to the anguish that flooded through him, seeping into his bones.

You didn't look back as you left.

I'm lost in admiration Could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time- "You're just - just- just wastin' time-" you sang out, the lyrics slurring together. You refused to let yourself wallow, so you opted for the best way to forget. Alcohol.

It was better than dealing with stupid Joel and his stupid rules.

Plus, it detached the meaning of the lyrics, the ones about being overwhelmingly in love, being completely enamored with someone, unable to be without them. The cassette tapes you had collected were few, but Tears for Fears were a classic you played the most often.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels-" you sang out, swaying your hips with the beat. A brief fantasy flashed in your mind of Joel joining in from behind, holding you while you danced and sang. You envisioned him singing along, his voice low and gentle, even though you'd never heard him do so.

Yet the lyrics carried you away alone. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm take you, a cup of mead in hand. Granted, it was probably a poor decision for Pete to give you a whole bottle to yourself, probably worse for you to have downed two glasses. But you felt free right now, blissfully ignorant to the outside world.

Until it came, quite literally, knocking at your door.

The rapping broke you out of your dancing. You panted softly as you paused the cassette player, the room growing uncomfortably still in the silence. Perhaps you kept the neighbors awake with your singing. Frosted glass on the front door revealed a familiar silhouette, making you freeze. Heat coursed through you as you reached for the handle, pulling the door open just enough to see your visitor.

Joel stood at the top of the steps to the house. He wore his usual serious expression, though it eased at the sight of you.

Whatever confidence the mead gave you earlier had vanished - the sudden appearance was sobering enough on its own. Your flushed cheeks were clear evidence of how you were dealing with this afternoon, that you wanted to forget what happened. Joel clenched his jaw, remorseful yet again. He was causing this, but had been desperately searching for a solution, in his own way. Unfortunately, 'his way' hadn't earned him many favors in the past. Joel knew that his abrasiveness would wear you down, your bright spirit, that light in your soul. If that didn't, then learning of his past certainly would - the heinous things he'd done to survive, the lives he'd ruined. They hadn't all been guilty, either, so the validity of 'survival' was in question. Those years held the most regret. Now he stood on your doorstep, carrying this invisible burden. He straightened his spine and squared out his shoulders, shifting nervously on his feet.

Maybe seeing you was the worse option. Maybe he was rubbing salt in the wound.

You straightened, frantically building your composure. Blush crept onto your cheeks as you greeted him in your bedclothes, glass of mead still in hand. Your oversized shirt and sleep shorts did little to help you look presentable and ready for the unexpected company.

"Hi," you greeted softly.

The smile you were longing to see was back. A rare softness had returned to Joel's features. He placed his hands on his hips.

Joel smiled down at you, his gaze tender, "Evening."

His damned voice could get you drunk on its own. That intoxicating Southern accent was as sweet and deep as whiskey.

The hair on the nape of your neck stood on end. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You needed the space and freedom to forget about Joel, and he landed at your doorstep.

He'd changed out of his old clothes, his hair tidier than before. Though he wasn't close enough to tell, you swore you caught a brief whiff of cologne. And here you were, in your pajamas, hair loose and unbrushed, completely unprepared.

You stammered, "Do- uhm... do you want to come in?"

Affection shone in his eyes at your flustered state; he gave you a once over, chuckling slightly. Joel prepared himself for this - truly prepared himself, in ways he hadn't done in months. Hell, he even found himself putting on cologne. He'd just gone to change his shirt, but the thought of seeing you after the fiasco from earlier had him fully prepared. Fully presentable.

There was a beat of silence that let Joel's eyes wander over your form. His gaze burned through your thin sleep shirt, roving over your bare legs with a greed that slipped through the cracks in his composure.

You stood in front of him with wide eyes, holding yourself around the waist, a new type of vulnerability you hadn't yet shown. He eyed the way you bit your lip, his focus whisked away by desire. Your outfit didn't help suppress Joel's imagination, either - it was the most exposed you'd been in front of him. He found himself selfishly taking you in, fully and properly.

Those shorts did no favors in hiding the curves of your thighs; your shirt did even more disservice to his willpower. It was thin, too thin. It hung off one shoulder to reveal your collarbone to him, hanging loosely at your chest, displaying your nipples poking against the fabric.

He snapped back to attention, clearing his throat before making his way inside, "Sure, thanks."

The door snapped shut behind you, keeping you and Joel in the new stifling proximity. You motioned generally to the space.

"Make yourself at home," you told him, the awkwardness slowly easing away. You made for the kitchen sink to return your half-downed glass of mead, breathing away your nerves. Joel took the cue in his own way, finding himself leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter, feet away from you.

His stare had hardened. You braced for another lecture.

"What happened back at the stables, I-"

Reintroducing the events erupted jealousy in your chest, and the residual buzz from the mead aired it out. You snapped, though the hurt was still evident in your cracked voice. There was no time for small talk. There could be no casual 'how was your day?' after what happened.

"Who was she?" Your demand struck him. He knew this would come.

Joel pressed his lips into a thin line before answering.

"Her name's Georgia. We've been friends for a while." He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, avoiding your stare. He didn't want to confront the reality of his words, how they would pain you.

The words were chosen carefully, cherrypicked to be as vague as possible. He didn't want to explain Georgia when all he wanted was to dissolve her from his memory. Didn't want to see the hurt in your eyes, searching to understand.

It wasn't enough for you. It was a bullshit answer.

"Friends is the right term for it?" You pressed. Joel's eyes dart to yours before he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

The term was empty as Joel's feelings for the other woman. He didn't spend much casual time with Georgia; he didn't enjoy her company. In truth, she was irritating - her only humor was harsh jokes, she was too invested in drama. But she was available at the time.

He should've waited. He didn't want to believe anyone else would come along, let alone as alluring as you. If Joel knew Georgia would've become such a pain, he wouldn't have entertained her to begin with.

His eyebrows knit together, "Do we really have to do this right now?"

"Yes, Joel," you hissed, "You're not gonna bullshit me - I already know. I know she's not a friend. People who are 'just friends' don't... act like that." You quote the words in the air. The anger had bubbled over the surface, just as Joel had anticipated.

In contrast to your outburst, Joel stood unyielding in his story.

He began, "We have history, alright?"

Your face flashed to frustration, but he continued, raising a hand to stop you. "It's been over a year. She had it out with her fiancé couple weeks back - she's just... dealing with it in her own way."

You scoffed, "So, you're fucking someone else's fiancée. Nice, Joel."

Joel's features hardened. His morals had been perpetually grayscale, so he didn't pay mind to the consequences of his choices. Georgia had been his escape, his secret, and now his biggest mistake.

"Was. Was fucking."

You countered, "Like that makes it better."

Joel doesn't expect his correction to change your feelings, but it's something. You snapped your mouth shut, exhaling deeply as you followed his suit, leaning against the kitchen counter. You took a deep breath before carrying on.

"So, what changed?"

It could've been a one word answer if Joel had the balls to admit it right then. His efforts had been to avoid complication. But he knew what he said next could shape everything.

So he opted for honesty. A vulnerable admission. The slight numbing in his fingers and pounding heart made him feel young again, in a way. He hadn't felt this jittery in decades. Joel wrung his hands together, nodding once. He'd made his choice.

"You came to Jackson."

Joel recalled the day you approached the massive gate, hobbling from a sprained ankle that wouldn't heal properly. He took watch from the wall, observing Jackson's newcomer from the vantage point, watching you depart with Maria. Despite your obvious injury, you kept a smile on your face, being grateful to have found safety.

It wasn't until your first group patrol that he saw you again. That time you were closer, and he was finally able to make out your features. Your wide eyes and a growing blush gave him a warm confidence. None of the other newbies had looked at him like that before. But, that time as well, he turned away.

He would be a fool to do it again.

"Things changed when you showed up, and I've been doing my best to keep things normal. I wanted to think that, at first, it was just some... y'know, mild flirting. And I liked that, I really did," Joel slowly inched closer as he continued. "I tried tellin' myself that it was nothing, but I can't find truth to that anymore."

Your legs turned to lead, unable to move, unable to deny him. Each nearing step heated your stomach, flipped it over itself, and shot your heart to your throat. Joel now stood inches away, pinning you against the counter like he'd done at the fence.

"I tried convincing myself a lot of things. That you wouldn't feel the same, that maybe I was misreading things, or maybe it was all just- just some dumb crush, or whatever." It felt stupid to say it, but that was the feeling. A crush.

It was laughable, an old man like him feeling that young love again. Yet, here was someone who could consume his full attention with a single smile. You had a depth of feeling and care that he couldn't measure up to, not in a lifetime. There was no undoing his damage.

You didn't share that belief.

Your eyes flickered to his as you raised a hand to his cheek. The scruff of his beard itched into your palm, your fingers carding into the salt-and-pepper hair. His skin was weathered and warm, tanned from years under the Texas sun. The crinkles around his eyes displayed both his age and his affection. They tightened a certain way when he smiled - you wondered if he knew that about himself, the simple beauties of him. Subtle details that only one in love would notice.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, "Well, do you think you have it figured out now?"

His stare lingered on your lips too long. As good as his poker face was, Joel's eyes gave his desire away. Your gentle touch thawed out his hardened look. He sighed softly.

Joel knew that his answer would seal his fate. He would have to accept any 'complications' that followed.

Wordlessly, Joel dipped his head lower, brushing his lips tentatively over yours. Your hand slipped behind his head to draw him in, to take those last few millimeters and shove them aside, to take it all.

You released a wanton moan past Joel's parting lips. He took it on with his own low groan - a deep, possessing noise that pooled heat between your legs. It was Joel's body pressing you to the counter that kept you stable, but his adventurous hands did you no favors. He broke his mouth from yours, panting.

"Do you have any idea how hard this's been for me?" His breath was hot against your neck, slowly creeping to your ear. "With all your damn teasin', it's been hard to hold myself back. Shit, I tried."

His words melted your core. You shifted your thighs together to find the evidence of your desire, just how wet you'd gotten.

A warm, open kiss landed under your jaw, making you shudder. A small moan left you involuntarily. Such a bright, mystifying, intoxicating sound that had Joel breathless against your skin. His hands found your waist, gaining purchase on the fabric of your shirt, tugging desperately at its hem.

You bucked your hips forward, only to find a growing bulge in Joel's worn jeans, firm and warm against your belly. Drool pooled in your mouth at the feeling of him, and your hands itched to reach downward.

Joel's hands cupped under your ass, kneading into the soft flesh before he hoisted you up and onto the kitchen counter. The biting cold of it pressed into your legs, quickly replaced with Joel's warmth gliding over skin, each shuddering breath coursing through you.

His mouth worked down to your collarbone, his sentences were broken between kisses laid along your collarbone.

"You knew it, too, didn't you, sweetheart?" Kiss. Joel's hands still idly toyed with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching his fingers under it. You throw your head back against the cabinet, rolling your hips forward as invitation.

"You knew what you were doin', flirting with me like you've been-" He lowered himself down, kissing over the fabric of your shirt, letting it stand between you for now.

Greedy hands crept up your thighs, igniting your skin along the way. Tightness grew in your abdomen while he moved along, planting hot kisses across your chest. Joel worked meticulously to deny you and keep you waiting for more. His mouth landed kisses below a nipple, then on the right, then on the left, before repeating the moves on the other breast.

He didn't leave you unattended. Joel cupped your neglected tit, working it slowly in his hand, reaching for your perk nipple. His fingers work it thoroughly, pinching and twisting, listening to your beautiful noises.

"Joel," you cried out, your hands finding his broad shoulders. His muscles flexed and stretched under your fingers, his chest rising and falling in time with your hurried breaths.

This is what he'd been wanting to hear: you saying his name. Not from Georgia, not from anyone else's lips. And now you laid here beneath him, uttering it like it was holy.

It was music to his ears.

Joel hummed lowly, the sensation reverberating through your entire being. A teasing warmth played with your nipple - Joel's tongue had come out to play. He laid it flat against the sensitive bud, still through your thin shirt, but it gave little barrier. You could still feel his tongue circling your nipple before lapping slowly, drawing out a new shuddering moan. He groaned beneath you with great satisfaction.

"That's it, sweetheart," Joel murmured, "lemme hear you. Tell me how good it feels, baby."

With your senses alight, you couldn't form words. Instead, you let out another cry as Joel caught your nipple between his teeth. He chuckled softly at your noise, replying with a gentle smack on your ass. This was far more tender than how he'd normally be. It would be his biggest lesson with you - restraint. Until you told him otherwise, he'd tread carefully.

Your hips widened to invite him closer, yet Joel left the distance as it was, taking the opportunity to bring his hand to your front. His mouth found yours once more with great desperation, as if the only clean air was what you shared. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, pulling away just enough for you to start to whine.

"Joel," you whimpered weakly, "Joel, I need more."

The request lit a fire in him. It was more than just permission, you were just as deprived as he was.

"More?" repeated Joel. You nodded quickly. He leisurely stood with a wide smirk, towering over you, his hand gliding lazily along your inner thigh. Joel mirrored himself on the other side, working his hands up the inside of your legs, so close to finding home. It's hardly enough, and yet too much. Your legs splayed out on either side, quivering, as you look up at Joel.

The neediness of your expression would've had Joel undressed in seconds, but he needed to take his time.

His gaze stripped you bare. He met your eyes as one of his hands meandered up your thigh, securing its spot at the waistband of your shorts.

Joel spoke idly while he hooked his rough, calloused fingers at the band, "Needy lil' thing, aren't ya?"

There was no time or breath to reply. Your breaths began to shudder as Joel used both hands to work your shorts down. The seconds feel like hours, but neither of you are willing to rush this. After holding back and stifling your feelings, this is what you deserved.

Quickly, Joel's lips wander down your neck, just as he helped you shift your legs out of your sleep shorts, slowly but surely. You kicked them off, letting them fall at Joel's feet, baring you before him.

He didn't know how to place it, but keeping your shirt on added to the seduction, still having part of you hidden from him until later. Another surprise would be waiting for him. For now, there was work to do.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll give you watcha need. I'll take good care of you," cooed Joel, who now led his index finger further up your thigh. It wasn't until he broke away that the praise began to flow.

Holding your thighs splayed out, Joel hissed through his teeth. Your pussy was on full display for his viewing, bare and dripping. He dropped to his knees before you, leveling himself at your entrance, his parted lips inches away from your needy hole.

He exhaled, parting your slit with a thumb. You were beyond what he imagined. Your pussy pathetically clenched down on nothing, desperate to be filled.

"Ain't that a pretty sight," Joel teased, suddenly running circles on your clit with his tumb. You whimpered into your palm, trying to stifle your sounds.

Pleasure coiled persistently in your stomach, creeping up your spine. Joel eyed your cunt as it trembled under his touch, smiling in awe - he'd never seen a body so beautiful.

Joel observed your writhing under his touch, memorizing every movement, burning them into his memory. Which touches made you arch your back, which ones made your thighs tremble. Your body, all on its own, ached and throbbed for him. He was the luckiest man alive.

And that desperate, pleading look on your face... God damn him.

This was far beyond what he had anticipated for this visit. If he had a lick of sense in him, Joel would've stayed at his own place. But even as he sat on his couch with his guitar on his knee, you wormed your way into his train of thought. Hell, you were the damn conductor of it. It wasn't until the sixth slip-up that Joel resolved himself to do something. The thought of you infiltrated everything - his work, his hobbies, his sleep.

Sleep had been most difficult, given that Joel pictured you there, too.

He couldn't have predicted this outcome, though. Joel leaned closer to your needy pussy, hovering his mouth over your swollen clit, relishing in the small moans you produced. His hands found your waist and gripped securely, testing the security of your position.

"Joel, please," you begged softly, "I can't take this anymore."

Your whining brought out a low chuckle from him, to add to your frustration. You groaned, bucking your hips forward. If he wasn't going to give you what you needed, you'd do your best to take it.

The grip on your waist tightened. A warning.

You looked down to find his stare intently on yours, his eyes overcast with lust. Speechless at the scene before you it was impossible to move, to look away. Joel kept your stare as he parted his lips to reveal his tongue, dipping lower and pressing it flat against your clit. The warmth was an instant, white-hot pleasure that drew your body into him.

"Oh, fuck-" you gasped. Joel hummed happily against your clit in response, swirling his tongue gingerly. He tested your waters once again, switching directions and rhythm, slipping his tongue around the entrance of your cunt.

He broke away with much protest on your end. Before you could utter a complaint he melted you once more.

"You sound so goddamn beautiful," muttered Joel. "You have no idea how many times I thought about this, pretty girl."

You mewled at the praise as Joel introduced a finger at your entrance, tending to your deprived hole as he showered you again.

"The number of times I pictured this moment... it's almost shameful. But I just couldn't help myself," he inched his finger deeper with each pause, drawing out your hissing breath. "And believe me, I tried to fight it back, but then I'd see you again, and it started all over."

With that, Joel curled his finger to greet your sweet spot. Crying out, you bit into your hand.

"Awh, what's wrong, sweetheart? You feelin' shy?" Joel teased darkly, "Don't want the neighbors to hear how good I'm making you feel?"

He savored the sound that fell from your lips, and he added a second finger. Curling masterfully like before, you were slowly stretched around him, walls fluttering as the coil in your belly tightened. Joel worked his fingers dutifully, angling deeper, he needed to hear you again - fuck the neighbors, let them find out. They'd get a good show, that's for sure.

His fingers' occupied state let Joel stand again, his lips and mustache glossy from your slick. A sly, devilish smile was your only sign to prepare yourself. Joel watched your face contort as he found a quickening pace. There was an obscene harmony filling the room - your sweet noises, and the sound of Joel's fingers plunging into your pussy.

"Hah.... hah... fffuck... Joel-"

"I know, pretty girl, keep it up. You can do it."

"I can't... I think I-I'm gonna... hah... I'm gonna-"

He commanded, "Give it to me, sweetheart. Show me whatcha look like when you fall apart."

You were pushed to the edge, and Joel sent you tumbling over it. Your climax slammed through you with a barrage of stars scattered across your vision. The world around you muffled, and while you couldn't make out what Joel said, you could see the satisfaction on his face.

Slowly, the world came back, and your breath began to slow. A satisfied grin plastered on your face, your body sated and languid. Joel tilted his head, smirking. The question begs an answer.

"Oh, honey, what am I gonna do with you?"

Y'all.

All honesty, this chapter took SO long to finish, my brain is now oatmeal. But the gremlin in my brain has been ITCHING to write smut, and we're FINALLY HERE RAHHHHH

(I'm sorry I stopped it here, but to be fair it's not the first cliffhanger I've done. Nor will it be the last. The next part will be out asap my loves!)

And if you liked this chapter, be sure to read the others! My masterlist is linked in the top of this post :)

xoxo, Bunny

[bwabys-scenarios]

Mother(NSFW)

Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: this is for Mother’s Day! A little late and kind of short, but I hope you enjoy it!

warnings: pregnancy, lactation, breeding, light teasing, biting, reader is described as chubby

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika smiled softly, holding you in his lap, keeping his hand over your pregnant belly. In this current state, you looked absolutely stunning to him.

You soft, swollen breasts were bare, one of them being lightly massaged with his free hand, and you couldn’t help but whimper when his cock twitched inside of you.

Lately, Kurapika always wanted you seated on his cock as he read or relaxed, wanting that skin to skin contact and closeness that only he could achieve with you. The fact that you were carrying his baby made his heart soar with both lust and adoration.

You were his angel, his beloved, and your belly was heavy and swollen with his child. You carried the life you both made, and all he wanted to do was keep you safe in his arms.

“K-Kurapika, please…”

He looked to you, noticing how warm your cheeks were, and the light squirming. “Hmm? What is it you need, my love?”

“Want you…”

He chuckled, playing with your hair. “And you have me, my beloved. I’m right here, aren’t I?”

You let out a whine, puffing out your chubby cheeks in a pout. “Y-you know what I mean!”

Kurapika’s smile turned into a smirk, his fingers lightly tugging at your nipple. “Hmm? I think you’ll have to tell me, darling. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

With a soft whimper, you rocked your hips, looking up at him with needy, teary eyes. Although your tears tore at his soul, he couldn’t help but tease you a bit further.

“Come on, angel. Tell me what you want, and it’ll be all yours.”

Kurapika gently rubbed at your clit, his breath warm against your neck. It was too much, you could feel your body trembling.

“Please… please fuck me… need it…”

A shudder ran down his spine, his eyes flashing scarlet for just a moment. “All you had to do was ask, love.”

Kurapika grabbed the fat of your hips, slowly guiding them up and down, hitting that special spot that had you mewling out in pleasure.

His mouth latched onto your nipple, suckling softly as he looked up at you. His cock twitched inside of your needy cunt when he saw the expression on your face.

You were lost in pleasure, your eyes teary and blurry as you held him to your chest, wanting him to keep up his suckling. “Please…”

He didn’t have it in him to tease you any further. You just looked way too cute with your baby bump squished against him as he bounced you on his cock.

“Anything for you, angel…”

His free hand groped your other breast, milk spraying out of the nipple in his mouth. Kurapika was surprised, but not upset in the slightest. He looked up at you as he lapped at the milk beading at your swollen nipple, before lightly biting it.

This was enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock just enough to have him cumming deep inside of you.

He groaned into your neck, biting down as he bucked his hips into yours and rode out his high. It felt so nice, the pain mixing with pleasure causing you to cum all over again,

Once you both had calmed down, he smiled at you, his cheeks lightly flushed. “My beautiful girl, are you feeling alright? Nothing hurts?”

You sleepily leaned your head onto his shoulder, feeling content as his cock slowly softened inside of you. “I’m okay…”

He placed a kiss on the bite mark. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll make dinner while you rest.”

As he carried you to the bath and thoroughly pampered you, he leaned over the tub to kiss your forehead.

“Happy Mother’s Day, my love.”

Your first Mother’s Day was spent being spoiled by your lover, while your child grew in your belly, both of you eager to meet the little bundle of joy.

[wolverigrl]

Hugh x reader.

Reader is a mom of two young kids, something like Pre-K and 4/5th grade. She gets her hopes too high thinking her ex husband will at least show up for the kids 1st day of school but they all get disappointed; Hugh as the gentleman/sweetest dad he is steps up and takes care of it making a surprise for them

Broken Promises

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I hope I won't trigger someone's serious daddy issues like I did to me lmao. But seriously, I had fun writing this one, too!

Warnings: angst, some swearing here and there, mentions of unavailable parent

---------------------------------------------------

The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Too quiet. I found myself pacing the living room again, eyeing the clock, then the door, and back to the clock. I had done this routine enough times to know how it usually ended. Ethan and Mason were perched on the couch, peeking out the window every now and then, waiting for the unmistakable sound of their father’s car pulling into the driveway.

"Mom, when's Dad coming?" Ethan asked for what felt like the hundredth time. His voice had that hopeful, uncertain edge that always tore at my heart.

Ethan was nine now, old enough to sense when something wasn’t quite right but still young enough to wish it wasn’t true.

I ran a hand through my hair and forced a smile.

"Soon, sweetheart. He said he’d be here."

Ethan nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. He was too smart for his own good. Mason, on the other hand, was sprawled across the floor with his toys, blissfully unaware of time and promises. At four, he was still full of that magical childhood innocence where you believe everything will always work out.

The boys weren’t the only ones waiting. Hugh, Ava, and Oscar were here too. Ava, Hugh’s 12-year-old daughter, was curled up on the couch, nose buried in a book while Oscar, his 17-year-old son, was tapping away on his phone, though he glanced at me from time to time with a knowing look. Hugh was in the kitchen, pretending to busy himself, but I knew him well enough to catch his subtle glances toward the front door. He was watching too.

Waiting.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the tense silence like a knife. Mason jumped up immediately, his little face lighting up with excitement as he dashed to the door. "Daddy!" he shouted, his tiny hands struggling to twist the doorknob before Ethan quickly helped him.

And there he was. Matthew.

My ex-husband.

Standing there with that familiar polished grin, the same one that had fooled me for years before I realized it was more charm than substance.

He looked every bit the smooth-talking lawyer he was, hair neatly combed, wearing an expensive suit that screamed 'I don’t have time for this', but here I am anyway.

"Hey, buddy!" Matthew exclaimed as Mason leapt into his arms, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. He shot a quick glance at me, his smile faltering for a second before he smoothly recovered. "Sorry I’m late. Busy day at work."

"Of course you are." I muttered under my breath. But the boys didn’t care.

They only saw their dad, and that was enough for them. Ethan approached more cautiously, his eyes studying Matthew, almost as if he were waiting to see if this time would be different. I knew that look all too well.

"Hey, Ethan!" Matthew said, ruffling his son’s hair. "Got something for you both." He reached into the sleek black bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out two shiny, brand-new backpacks.

Mason squealed with delight, clutching his in his arms like it was made of gold, while Ethan’s expression shifted from excitement to hesitation.

"Cool, thanks, Dad." He said, a polite smile on his face. I could see the wheels turning in his head, though. A backpack didn’t make up for missed promises, no matter how shiny it was.

"Are you gonna come tomorrow?" Ethan asked quietly, looking up at his father with those wide, hopeful eyes that always broke my heart. "For the first day of school?"

"Of course, buddy!" Matthew said without hesitation. He leaned down, crouching to their level and placing a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I’ll be there, bright and early."

I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall, watching this scene play out like it always did. Matthew was nothing if not consistent in his ability to make promises he couldn’t keep.

Before I could say anything, Hugh walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. His presence was calming, always steady and reassuring. He gave me a small, knowing smile before turning his attention to Matthew.

"Matthew." Hugh said, his voice polite but firm as he extended his hand.

"Hugh." Matthew replied, shaking it with the same rehearsed friendliness he used with clients.

They had met a handful of times, and while Matthew had never said anything outright, I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about another man stepping into the lives of his children.

The boys were still fawning over their backpacks when Ava and Oscar joined us in the living room. Ava smiled warmly at Mason, ruffling his hair.

"Nice backpack boys!"

Oscar stood beside Hugh, his tall frame giving him an almost protective air.

"You guys excited for school tomorrow?" he asked, nudging Ethan playfully. Ethan grinned full of excitement.

Matthew didn’t stay long. He never did. After about twenty minutes of small talk and handing out gifts, he was already looking at his watch. "Alright, I’ve gotta go." he said, standing up and straightening his suit. "But I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Bright and early as I said!"

The boys hugged him, clinging to him like they always did, desperate for any time they could get with him. And just like that, he was gone.

I watched the door close behind him, and a familiar tightness settled in my chest. The boys turned back to their new backpacks, their excitement renewed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow would end in disappointment. Again.

Hugh caught my eye from across the room, sensing my unease. He walked over, his hand resting on the small of my back, and leaned in to whisper. "You okay?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I don’t know. I want to believe him, but… I can’t keep letting the boys get hurt. Ethan’s starting to get it, Hugh. He knows when Matthew’s lying now."

Hugh’s expression softened, and he pulled me closer. "Hey, I’ll be there. We’ll be there. They won’t be alone. I promise."

I leaned into him, closing my eyes, letting his warmth seep into me. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’ll never have to find out, love." he whispered into my hair, kissing the top of my head.

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes. The house was already buzzing with energy, far earlier than I expected. I shuffled downstairs, still groggy, only to stop in my tracks at the sight that greeted me.

The living room was transformed. Balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling, and a colorful banner that read 'First Day of School!' stretched across the doorway. The kitchen table was covered in every breakfast food imaginable - pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, even little bowls of candy that Mason would definitely notice first.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. "Hugh, did you…?"

He turned from the stove, grinning at me like a kid who had just pulled off the best surprise. "Figured we’d make it special."

Tears welled up in my eyes, unbidden, and I pressed a hand to my mouth. "I-I can’t believe you did all this!"

Hugh crossed the room in a few strides, pulling me into his arms.

"It’s their first day of school. Gotta make it a big deal, right?"

The kids came rushing down the stairs next, their faces lighting up at the sight. Ethan and Mason squealed in delight, darting between the living room and the kitchen like it was the best thing they had ever seen.

"This is awesome!" Ethan shouted, his eyes wide with excitement.

Ava grinned as she joined us at the table, patting the seat next to her for Mason, while Oscar laughed at his little brother’s excitement. "Told you Dad goes all out!" Oscar teased.

Hugh winked at me, flipping another pancake onto the stack.

"It's a big day. Gotta start it right!"

And it was. For a few precious moments, everything felt perfect. The kids were happy, the atmosphere light and joyous, and the worries from yesterday seemed far away.

But when we got to the school, reality came crashing back. We stood outside the classroom door, surrounded by other excited parents and their children, and the boys kept glancing toward the entrance. Waiting.

"Is Daddy coming?" Mason asked again, his voice laced with hope.

"He said he would." I murmured, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince anymore.

The minutes ticked by, and the crowd around us thinned as more and more families said their goodbyes and headed inside. But Matthew never showed. And I could see the hope fading from Ethan’s eyes.

Hugh stepped forward, crouching down to their level. "Hey, guys.." he said, his voice soft but upbeat. "Your dad’s probably stuck at work, but that doesn’t mean today isn’t special. You’ve got all of us here, and we’re so proud of you. Right, Ava?"

Ava nodded, smiling warmly at Ethan. "You’re gonna rock it, Ethan! I just know it."

Oscar clapped Mason on the back, grinning. "And Mason, you better show them how it’s done, okay?"

Mason giggled, his spirits lifting, but Ethan was still quiet. Hugh reached out, gently tilting Ethan’s chin up. "You’re gonna be amazing today. And no matter what, we’re always here for you. Okay?"

Ethan swallowed, his eyes glistening a little, but then he nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."

I pulled him into a hug, my heart aching for him. "I love you so so much, Ethan. You’re going to do great!"

Mason was next, clinging to my leg before I knelt down to hug him properly.

"Be good, okay? Listen to your teacher, and have fun. I love you so much!" He nodded eagerly, bouncing on his toes, the weight of disappointment not yet touching him the way it did Ethan.

We said our goodbyes to Ava and Oscar, sending them off to their own classes, before Hugh and I turned to leave. As we walked out of the school, my chest felt tight.

The weight of everything - the missed promises, the endless hope that Matthew would change, the constant pain in Ethan’s eyes - was pressing down on me harder than usual.

I could feel Hugh’s arm around my shoulders, warm and reassuring, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the hurt. We stepped out into the parking lot when I heard someone call my name.

"Y/n! Wait!"

I froze, my blood running cold as I turned to see Matthew jogging up the sidewalk, his suit jacket slightly askew, as if he had hurried over at the last minute.

My stomach twisted in knots.

Now?

After all this time, after the boys had gone inside? My hands balled into fists at my sides.

"I’m sorry!" Matthew said, breathless, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I got caught up at the office, but I’m here now. I didn’t want to miss it."

Something in me snapped. All the hurt, all the frustration, all the times he had let our boys down over the years, rushed to the surface. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, my vision blurring as they spilled over before I could stop them.

"You’re sorry?" I spat, the words escaping me in a choked sob. I stormed toward him, fists clenched, my body trembling with rage. "You missed it, Matthew! You missed everything! They went into class without you!"

He looked startled, stepping back as I shoved his chest. "Y/n, come on, I said I’m sorry- "

"Sorry doesn’t fix it!" I screamed, slamming my fists into his chest again, harder this time.

"Do you have any idea how much Ethan was looking for you? How many times he asked about you?! Mason kept asking when you’d get here, and you didn’t show up! You weren’t here, Matthew! Again!"

I kept hitting his chest, my tears flowing freely now. My voice was loud, too loud, but I didn’t care. The dam had broken, and everything I had bottled up for years came pouring out.

"You promised me! You promised them you’d be here, and you weren’t! You never are!"

Matthew tried to catch my wrists, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/n, stop- "

But I couldn’t stop.

The pain of watching my boys be disappointed time and time again was too much.

"You don’t get it! You don’t get to swoop in at the last second and act like everything’s fine!" I sobbed, my fists still pounding against his chest until I felt Hugh’s hands gently but firmly wrap around me, pulling me back.

"Y/n.." Hugh’s voice was steady, his grip gentle but unyielding as he pulled me away from Matthew. "That’s enough."

I collapsed into Hugh’s chest, my body trembling as I sobbed, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. Hugh held me close, one hand cradling the back of my head, while I clung to him, my tears soaking into his shirt. He rocked me gently, whispering soothing words I couldn’t quite make out, but the warmth of his embrace calmed me, slowly but surely.

Matthew, still standing a few feet away, looked completely stunned, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know what to say. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure.

"Look.. I’m sorry.." he said again, his voice weaker this time. "I really did try to make it.:

"That’s the problem, Matthew.." I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying. "You always try. But trying isn’t enough anymore."

Matthew’s face twisted with frustration. "I’m doing my best! It’s not like I’m trying to miss these things, you know. I have a job- "

"A job?!" I cut him off, my voice rising again despite myself. "I have a fucking job too! You think that’s an excuse? Ethan sees it, Matthew! He knows when you’re lying. And Mason? He’ll start seeing it soon too. They don’t care about your job. They care about you being here!"

Matthew clenched his jaw, his own frustration building.

"I don’t have the luxury of just playing house like you do, y/n! I have more responsibilities!"

"Playing house?" I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "You have no idea what it's like to raise them. No idea what it feels like to watch their hearts break every time you don’t show up!"

"You don’t think I care?" Matthew shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m doing the best I can with the time I have!"

"And it’s never enough.." I whispered, the fight leaving me again. I wiped at my eyes, exhausted.

"Hey." Hugh’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. His tone was sharp, but not raised. "That’s enough. You should be ashamed of yourself, Matthew."

As soon as Hugh said it, I saw Matthew’s posture change.

His eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. For a split second, I could see the switch flip in him, the smooth, collected persona cracking. Matthew wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like Hugh. Not by someone who had quietly stepped into the role Matthew had always fumbled.

"Excuse me?" Matthew’s voice was low, his eyes locked on Hugh. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Hugh didn’t flinch.

He met Matthew’s glare head-on, his expression calm but firm.

"I think I’m the man who’s been here for your kids when you couldn’t be bothered to show up. And I’m telling you - what you’re doing is hurting them and y/n."

Matthew took a step forward, his face flushed with anger now. "You think you can just walk in and play daddy, huh? That you know what it’s like to juggle everything I do? You don’t get to stand there and judge me, Jackman."

I could feel the tension crackling between them, thick and heavy. Hugh was calm, still, like a rock against the storm that was Matthew’s rising temper.

My heart was pounding, the last remnants of my tears still clinging to my lashes as I watched, half-dazed from the emotional rollercoaster of the last few minutes.

Matthew sneered, stepping even closer. "You think you're so perfect, don’t you? Mr. Hollywood star, swooping in to save the day. You’re not their father. You’re nothing to them. Just a simple placeholder."

Hugh’s jaw tightened, and I saw the muscle twitch there. But he didn’t react the way Matthew clearly wanted him to. Instead, he exhaled slowly and said, "You’re right. I’m not their father. But I’m the one they can count on. I’m the one who’s here when they need someone. That’s what matters."

Matthew’s face twisted in frustration, his fists clenching tighter. He pointed at Hugh, his voice rising.

"You have no idea what it’s like to have your own life, your own responsibilities, and try to make time for everyone. It’s easy for you to stand there and act like the hero when you’ve got nothing else pulling you in a million directions!"

I stepped forward before Hugh could respond, my voice shaking with anger. "You think Hugh doesn’t have responsibilities? You think he doesn’t make sacrifices? He does all of this for our kids while you barely lift a finger! And you know what? He never complains! Never makes excuses. He just shows up. That’s what they need, Matthew - someone who shows up."

Matthew’s gaze flicked between me and Hugh, his expression growing darker by the second. He laughed sarcastically.

"You’re really going to take his side over mine, y/n? After everything?"

I scoffed, wiping the lingering tears from my eyes.

"I'm taking my sons’ side, Matthew. Because they deserve better than what you’re giving them. This isn’t about sides. It’s about what’s right for them."

Matthew again let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. You really think I don’t care, don’t you? That I don’t want to be there for them?"

"Well, If you wanted to be here, you would be." Hugh cut in, his voice sharp now, no longer willing to play nice.

"You wouldn’t be showing up late, making excuses, and disappointing them over and over. You’d be here, Matthew. It’s that simple."

"That simple?" Matthew’s voice was nearly a growl now.

"You have no idea what I go through - what I have to balance! It’s not as easy as you think, playing ‘Super Dad.’!" He stepped forward again, and for a second, I thought it might come to blows.

But Hugh, steady and calm, took a deliberate step forward too, closing the distance.

"As we said before.. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being there. No one’s asking for you to be a superhero. They just want their dad to show up. You owe it to them to do better."

The tension between them felt like it was about to explode, and I could barely breathe, watching it unfold. I knew Matthew’s temper. I had seen it flare too many times. And I knew Hugh was protective, fiercely so, but not one to back down when it came to the people he loved.

Matthew’s nostrils flared, his fists still clenched at his sides.

"You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? You think you can just walk into my life and replace me?"

Hugh’s gaze was steady, unwavering, but he couldn't help himself and let out a soft laugh.

"I don’t want to replace you, Matthew. But I won’t stand by and watch those boys get hurt because you can’t figure out your priorities."

I felt my body trembling again, but this time from the frustration and helplessness of it all. I had spent so long trying to protect my boys from this, trying to shield them from the disappointment of their father’s broken promises. And now, here it was, boiling over in front of me.

"Enough!" I yelled, my voice breaking as I stepped between them.

"This isn’t about either of you! It’s about Ethan and Mason. And I’m so tired of seeing them get hurt because you can’t keep your word."

Matthew blinked at me, his anger momentarily giving way to something else - something that looked like shame. But just as quickly, his walls went back up, and he shook his head, stepping back.

"This is ridiculous." he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I didn’t come here to be ganged up on."

I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion press down on me.

"Then what did you come for, Matthew? Because if it wasn’t to be there for your sons before they go attend their very first day of school, I don’t see the point."

For a long moment, Matthew just stared at us, his jaw tight, his expression a mixture of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving us standing there in the empty schoolyard.

I let out a shaky breath, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly as the weight of the moment caught up with me. Before I knew it, Hugh’s arms were around me again, pulling me close, holding me up as I leaned into him.

"You okay, love?" he whispered, his voice gentle, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I nodded, though I didn’t trust my voice just yet. The anger, the hurt, the frustration - it was all still swirling inside me, but Hugh’s presence, his steady calmness, helped anchor me.

"I'm sorry.." I whispered, wiping at my tear-streaked face. "I didn’t mean to… to lose it like that."

"Don’t apologize." Hugh said softly, kissing the top of my head. "You had every right to say what you did. He needed to hear it."

I took a deep breath, finally pulling back to look up at him.

"I just… I hate that this is what it’s come to. That the boys keep getting hurt like this."

"They have you." Hugh said, his voice firm but full of warmth. "And they have me. We’ll get through this."

I nodded, though my heart still ached. "Thank you." I whispered. "For everything. For being here."

Hugh smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I’m always here, y/n. You and the boys - you’re my family too."

I felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over me, but this time, it was mixed with gratitude and love.

As we walked back to the car, hand in hand, I knew that no matter what happened with Matthew, no matter how many times he failed to show up, we would be okay. Because Hugh was right.

We had each other.

And that was enough.

---------------------------------------------------

Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Ask and ye shall receive! Double update today because that last part was so short and Vox'less.

He's so melodramatic. Vox and Alastor have their pity party tantrums in common for suuuuure.

More Than Anything Part 2.5 VOX POV [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2

More Than Anything Part 2.5 VOX POV [Vox x Reader]

To say Vox was furious would be an understatement. Much like you, his emotions ran HIGH. And dear god were they going haywire after he came to.

When Valentino finally came into his room after hearing so much crashing and screaming all the way from the large break room exclusively made for the Vee's, the bedroom was a wreck. Broken screens and miscellaneous things were thrown everywhere. Vox had even tossed a lamp through one of the large wall windows that overlooked the city. Valentino peered curiously down to see a crowd taking pictures of some poor sinner who had been squashed by the offending piece of furniture.

Vox was trembling with anger and heartache as Valentino looked over him with an unreadable expression. A sadistic part of Valentino was actually enjoying Vox's suffering. The moth still wasn't quite over Vox bringing their on-and-off situationship to an official end. Valentino didn't see what the big deal about you was and it annoyed him that Vox was "pursuing something real" as if he wasn't enough. It wasn't his fault Vox was so damn petty!

Valentino still liked to hope that maybe your relationship would end and things could go back to how they were before, but without Vox bitching about Valentino fucking Angel as much. That being said, he also knew he should probably get Vox calm before he caused any more of a scene that could be noticed by the public.

He opened his mouth to say something, only to snap it shut with an unimpressed frown as Vox screamed in rage and tried to flip the bed. He was such a man-child sometimes.

"THAT O̷̡̧̅͆L̷̻̒̇D̸̞̆-̶̲̓Ţ̵̧́̽I̷̝͐̈M̵͉̀̈E̸̩̗̿Y̸̜̪̑͐ NO GOOD SON OF A F̸̄ͅU̵̲͒C̴͓͠Ḵ̷̇I̸̤͉͑̅Ṅ̶͚͊G̸̣̅ ̷͔͋̄B̴͖̍̚Î̵̖T̸͕̆Ċ̴̪Ḧ̷̖́, "He growled. "Why couldn't Alastor just keep his stupid tinny voice s̴̤̿͒h̴̳̔́ͅǔ̷͙̣t̷̩͍́́?̶̰̐!̶̳̟́"

Valentino rolled his eyes, pulling out his lighter and blowing out a plume of smoke. He knew it didn't actually work on Vox, but it helped calm his own nerves. "Oh, come now cabrón. You act like you didn't do this to yourself."

"Oh go choke to double death on a horse cock," Vox spat as his claws ripped into something else. The last thing he needed was Valentino rubbing salt in the wound. Vox knew this was his fault. He knew he'd fucked up and crossed a line. But it was easier to blame Alastor for spilling the secret. It was easier to blame him, rather than look at the cold hard truth that in his attempts to protect you, he may have lost you for good.

He'd called you twenty times and had sent so many texts that the security system he'd installed on your phone flagged him as spam. Needless to say, he hacked into they system and tore the firewalls he'd designed to shreds. The only thing that kept him from rebooting for the fifth time in the past hour was the distant feeling of your soul. He felt where you were and felt that you were safe. But he could also feel your pain. The soul bound by his own could feel the way it tore itself into pieces as you burned through the angst that he'd caused.

"Don't get snippy with me," Valentino scoffed. He crossed the room and used his pipe to lift Vox's face. Vox smacked the damn thing away from him with a snarl, and Valentino simply blew a puff of smoke against his screen. "It's not my fault that your little cunt of a plaything is so sensitive. You're the one who asked for this, baby."

Vox flinched hard as Valentino's hands trailed down his chest. His heart rate picked up for another reason as the pink haze swirled between them. Sometimes the way Valentino manipulated him every which way so easily made Vox wonder if he truly was immune to the aphrodisiac of Valentino's spells.

"Isn't it about time you forget that little bitch and come crawling back?" Valentino purred, his nails scratching down Vox's chest and drawing blood. He lowered his face to the side of Vox's head and smirked. "Come back to me, luciérnaga~"

Vox gasped, his arms shooting out and shoving Valentino away from him. Valentino squawked in outrage as Vox felt an unpleasant hum of anxious energy thrumming through his veins. He felt a panic attack approaching rapidly and retreated into one of the broken cameras that still had an electrical charge. He reappeared in his monitor room and fell to his knees. He lurched as he fought the urge to vomit and grit his teeth as dead pixels filled his screen through the painful glitches.

Everything was too much. It was too damn much.

You. Valentino. Alastor. His own damn hubris. It was too much. He sent out a fresh wave of desperate pleas to your phone's inbox as he spiraled into self-doubt and loathing. He needed you back. You were the one that showed him a brighter life. One that wasn't bound to the poisonous desire of Valentino. A life where he felt seen for who he really was. You didn't see him as a figurehead of evil intent and merciless charisma like everyone else. You didn't see his power, you knew his weakness. And you showed him that he could be loved for it, not just in spite of it.

The week passes by in a blur. Valentino didn't mention the way Vox rejected him and both of the Vee's tried to force Vox to get his shit together. They even held him down and locked him in a room without cameras when he tried to leave the tower to go after you. The image of the trio was too precious for either Vee to let him destroy it in an emotional rampage.

They'd given him a shit old phone to keep obsessively trying to get ahold of you through, but besides that, he was practically a prisoner to his own fuck ups.

"I̵̥͗'̴͇͈̏͗m̵��̣͎̇ ̷̘̐͝s̸̖̈̽ȏ̷̼̞r̴̛̯̈ȑ̸̩͘ỹ̷̪," Vox sobbed as he held the phone to his head in a broken prayer. His voice and screen hadn't been clear for the past day. He was at his wit's end and wondered how he ever thought hell was hell before now. This was the suffering all the dumbasses back on earth expected for the forsaken. Hell before now was a piece of cake compared to what he felt now.

He was alone and sinking further into his own despair. And the only thing that'd be able to pull him out was you.

[its-avalon-08]

Can you write a Carlos or Daniel x reader story where the reader goes through a miscarriage and is affected by it; they can either be in a relationship or just friends?

mi vida mi amor (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, miscarriage, tears, comfort

hey guys, due to the severity of this topic, please proceed with caution. incase you relate with this story, firstly my heartfelt condolences and love, secondly know you are loved and worthy of everything under the sun.

the pregnancy loss phone helpline - 01924 200799 or email at info@miscarriageassociation.org.uk

The warm, golden glow of the afternoon sun bathed the cozy living room in a serene light. Y/N sat on the couch, her hand resting gently on her belly, a soft smile playing on her lips as she gazed at Carlos, who was crouched down in front of her, his hand pressed against her stomach with reverence.

"I can’t wait to meet them," he whispered, his voice full of awe, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You think they’ll be a little racer like their dad or maybe an artist like their mom?”

Y/N chuckled, her fingers running through Carlos’s hair as she looked down at him, love swelling in her chest. “I think they’ll be a little bit of both. Fast and creative, maybe even stubborn like you.”

Carlos grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss against her belly. “Stubborn’s a good thing. Means they’ll never give up. Just like their mamá.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, warmth spreading through her as Carlos sat beside her, gently pulling her into his arms. They had been waiting for this moment for what felt like a lifetime—a future full of laughter, love, and their baby. The pregnancy had been smooth so far, and every appointment brought new joys. They had even picked out names.

As she nestled into his embrace, Y/N sighed contentedly. “Can you believe it? In just a few months, everything’s going to change. We’ll be parents, Carlos.”

Carlos tightened his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’m ready for it. I’m ready for all of it, as long as I have you by my side.”

She turned to look at him, eyes sparkling with joy. “I love you, you know that?”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly. “I love you more. Always.”

The moment felt perfect, like everything had fallen into place, like the universe was aligning just for them. Y/N felt safe in Carlos’s arms, and for the first time in a long time, her worries felt small, far away.

Until they weren’t.

Later that evening, Y/N suddenly felt a sharp pain in her abdomen, enough to make her pause mid-laugh as they sat down for dinner. Carlos, who had just set a plate of her favorite food in front of her, immediately noticed the change in her expression.

"Y/N? What’s wrong?" he asked, concern flashing in his eyes as he rushed to her side.

She winced, gripping the edge of the table as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time. “I… I don’t know. It’s probably just nothing—maybe the baby’s moving.”

Carlos knelt down beside her, his hand on her knee, trying to hide the panic rising in his chest. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Before she could answer, another sharp pain tore through her, this one stronger than the last. She gasped, her hand instinctively going to her stomach, fear creeping into her eyes. "Carlos, something’s wrong. I don’t—"

His heart dropped. “Okay, okay. We’re going to the hospital. Right now.” His voice was steady, but inside, dread was building with each passing second. He grabbed the car keys and helped her to her feet, his mind racing as he tried to stay calm for her sake.

As they drove, Y/N held onto her belly, her breathing shallow, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "Carlos, what if—"

"Don’t. Don’t say it," Carlos interrupted, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. "Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. It has to be."

But deep down, a part of him was terrified. Terrified of what they might lose. Of what they couldn’t control.

The ride to the hospital felt like a blur. Once they arrived, the doctors moved quickly, whisking Y/N away while Carlos was left pacing the sterile waiting room, the smell of disinfectant and the cold, harsh lights making the entire situation feel surreal.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, until finally, a doctor came out, his expression grim. Carlos’s heart stopped as he looked up, dreading the words that were about to come.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said, his voice gentle but devastating. “There was nothing we could do. You’ve lost the baby.”

Carlos’s world crumbled in that moment, the breath stolen from his lungs. His legs felt weak, his mind unable to fully comprehend the words. Lost? How could that be? Just hours ago, everything had been perfect. They had been planning their future, dreaming of the family they were going to have.

Now, it was all gone.

And Y/N—his heart broke for her as much as it broke for the child they had lost. He could barely process his own grief, but Y/N’s—how would she survive this? How could he help her through something so devastating when he barely knew how to breathe himself?

Tears welled up in his eyes as he stumbled into the hospital room, where Y/N lay, her face pale and streaked with tears. Her eyes met his, and in that moment, the pain they both felt was indescribable. He rushed to her side, taking her trembling hand in his, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to make any of this better.

“Carlos,” she sobbed, her voice raw and broken, “our baby…”

Carlos pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could, tears streaming down his own face. "I know, mi amor. I know. I’m so sorry."

They clung to each other, their grief unbearable, as the world outside moved on without them. But in that hospital room, time stood still, and all that remained was the weight of their loss, heavy and heart-shattering.

time skip

The days after the hospital were a blur of empty silences and broken hearts. Carlos tried, God, he tried, but it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers. He cooked Y/N's favorite meals, hoping the familiar taste might bring her back, even just a little. But each time, she would sit at the table, staring blankly at the food, barely touching a bite.

He watched her now, sitting across from him, the plate of pasta growing cold in front of her. She held the fork but didn’t lift it. Her eyes were distant, lost in a fog of grief and guilt. She hadn’t spoken much in days, only brief answers, as if words were too much of an effort.

Carlos forced a smile, his voice soft but filled with desperate hope. "Remember when we made this for the first time? You almost burned the entire kitchen down." He chuckled lightly, trying to coax a reaction, any reaction from her.

Y/N's lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile—it was something hollow, a distant echo of the person she used to be. She set the fork down without taking a bite.

Carlos’s heart sank. He couldn’t stand it—the silence, the emptiness. He needed her to come back. “Y/N, please…” he said softly, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Talk to me. Yell at me, cry, anything. Just… don’t shut me out.”

Her eyes flickered to his, but the spark that used to light them was gone. She squeezed his hand weakly, as if trying to reassure him, but the gesture felt hollow. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m just… tired.”

Carlos swallowed hard, nodding as he tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I know, mi amor. I know you’re tired. But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. I’m always here.”

Y/N stood abruptly, the scrape of the chair against the floor loud in the otherwise silent room. “I’m going to lie down,” she murmured, walking toward their bedroom, her movements slow, like she was carrying a weight too heavy for her to bear.

Carlos sat at the table, his chest tightening as he watched her retreating figure. His hands trembled as he buried his face in them, the weight of helplessness suffocating. He had no idea what to do. He was losing her, piece by piece, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Later that evening, Carlos found Y/N sitting by the window in their bedroom, staring out at the darkening sky. The soft glow of twilight bathed her in shadows, making her seem even more fragile than she already was. He sat beside her, carefully placing an arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him, like she always did, pressing a kiss to his cheek—a gesture that used to be filled with love, but now felt almost automatic, like she was going through the motions but wasn’t really there.

Carlos closed his eyes, the pain of it all overwhelming him. “I miss you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I miss us.”

Y/N didn’t respond, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t bother wiping it away.

He pressed his forehead against hers, trying to hold on to the connection they had. “I need you to come back to me,” he pleaded, his voice shaking. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. Please don’t do this.”

She swallowed hard, her breath shaky, but still said nothing. Silence filled the room again, and Carlos felt like he was drowning in it.

After a long moment, Y/N pulled away slightly, her eyes downcast. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” she whispered, her voice so broken it barely sounded like her. “I hate myself, Carlos. I don’t know how to… how to live with this.”

Carlos's breath hitched, his heart breaking all over again. “No, no,” he shook his head, his grip tightening on her. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’re still the woman I fell in love with, and I’m not giving up on you.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. “But I’m giving up on myself,” she admitted, the words hanging between them like a knife to his chest.

Carlos’s world seemed to tilt as the gravity of her words sank in. His pulse raced, his mind screaming for a way to fix this, to make her see. “You can’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling as panic gripped him. “You can’t give up. Not on yourself. Not on us.”

Y/N turned away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Carlos. I just… I don’t know how to be okay again.”

Carlos felt the walls closing in around him, his heart pounding in his chest as fear like he’d never known consumed him. He was losing her, and no matter what he said or did, he couldn’t seem to stop it. He couldn’t reach her anymore.

Desperately, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back to face him. "Y/N, don’t say that! You have to fight. You have to. For us. For what we still have left. I—"

But Y/N pulled her hand away, standing up abruptly. “I need air,” she muttered, her voice cracking as she hurried toward the door.

Carlos stood up as well, panic rising in his chest. “Y/N, wait! Please—”

But before he could stop her, she was gone, the door swinging shut behind her.

Carlos stood frozen in place, the silence that followed deafening. His chest heaved with each shallow breath as dread clawed at him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His world was unraveling before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it.

Suddenly, the sound of something crashing in the hallway broke the silence.

Carlos’s blood ran cold.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice thick with fear as he rushed out of the room.

But the only response was the echo of his own voice in the empty hallway.

Carlos's heart raced as he rushed down the hallway, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the walls, his mind filled with dread.

“Y/N!” he called again, his voice thick with fear, his throat dry.

His pulse pounded in his ears as he skidded to a stop by the front door, his breath catching in his chest when he saw her. Y/N was slumped against the wall, her body shaking with silent sobs, her hand covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face. A picture frame had fallen from the wall, its shattered pieces scattered around her feet.

Carlos's chest tightened at the sight of her, his heart breaking all over again. He crouched down beside her, his hands trembling as he reached out, his voice softer now, gentler. "Y/N, amor, please… talk to me. I’m right here."

But she didn’t respond, her eyes glazed over, staring at nothing as if she were lost in a fog too thick to escape. She was barely hanging on, and Carlos could feel her slipping further away from him with each passing second.

He gently took her hand, squeezing it, trying to ground her, to bring her back. "I’m right here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I’m not going anywhere. Please don’t shut me out."

Finally, Y/N looked at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her lips trembling. “I can’t… I don’t know how to do this anymore, Carlos,” she whispered, her voice broken, raw. “I can’t pretend to be okay when everything inside me feels so wrong.”

Carlos’s breath hitched in his throat, his chest tightening as her words pierced through him. He wanted to fix this, to make her pain go away, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to bring her back to the woman she once was—the woman he loved, who was full of life and light. Now, all that was left was a shadow, and it terrified him.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “You don’t have to be okay. I just need you to let me in. I need you to try.”

Y/N’s body shook as a sob escaped her lips, her free hand clenching around the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t know how to try, Carlos,” she admitted, her voice so small it broke him. “I feel like I’m drowning, and no matter what I do, I can’t breathe.”

Carlos’s eyes stung with unshed tears as he pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could, as if somehow, his love alone could save her. "Then let me breathe for you," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll hold on to you. I’ll never let go, I swear."

But Y/N shook her head, her voice barely a whisper, “What if you’re better off without me?”

Carlos froze, his blood running cold at the words, like a knife had been driven into his chest. He pulled back slightly, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him. His eyes searched hers, desperate, pleading. "Don’t ever say that," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t ever say that.”

Tears streamed down her face as she broke down, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "I’ve lost our baby, Carlos. I failed you, I failed us. How can you still look at me and say you love me after everything I’ve taken from you?”

His heart shattered at her words, and he held her tighter, his own tears falling freely now. “You didn’t fail me,” he whispered fiercely, his voice shaking with emotion. “You never failed me, Y/N. We lost our baby, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost you. I still love you. I’ll always love you."

Y/N sobbed harder, her hands clutching his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. "I hate myself for this," she admitted, her voice broken. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

Carlos kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there as he tried to hold back his own tears. “I know it’s hard. I know you’re hurting, amor, but you’re not alone in this. We’re going to get through this together. I promise you. Please, don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain and self-loathing, and for a moment, it seemed like she might say something—like she might let him in. But instead, she pulled away, wiping her tears with shaky hands.

“I need to be alone,” she whispered, standing up slowly, her movements lethargic, almost mechanical. She didn’t look back at him as she walked toward the door, the distance between them growing with each step.

Carlos’s heart raced, panic clawing at his chest as he stood up, calling after her. “Y/N, wait—”

But she didn’t stop, her hand already on the door handle.

Carlos felt his world tilting again, slipping further out of his control. He could feel her slipping away, and the terror of losing her completely gripped him.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he took a step forward, his hand reaching out for her. "Don’t go."

Y/N paused, her hand frozen on the door, her back still turned to him.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Carlos held his breath, waiting—hoping—for something, anything.

Then, without a word, Y/N opened the door and stepped outside, leaving Carlos standing alone in the hallway, the cold air from the open door chilling him to the bone.

And as the door clicked shut behind her, Carlos felt his world shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.

Carlos stood frozen, staring at the door as it clicked shut behind Y/N, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. His world, once filled with joy and love, now felt like it was crumbling to dust. He wanted to move, to chase after her, but his feet felt glued to the floor. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, anger, and helplessness.

Why did she leave? Why couldn’t I stop her? His mind screamed, and his body trembled with the effort to hold himself together. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to choke back the sob threatening to escape.

I can’t lose her. I can’t let this destroy us.

Tears blurred his vision as he sank down to the floor, his head in his hands. He didn’t know what else to do. He had tried everything, poured every ounce of love he had into her, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. And now, she was gone.

Why am I not enough? he thought bitterly, the question ringing through his mind. I love her more than anything, but I can’t fix this. I can’t fix her. I can’t even fix myself.

Carlos let out a shaky breath, a sob finally escaping as the weight of it all became too much. I lost our baby too, he thought, his chest tightening with the realization. And now I’m losing her. And I can’t do anything about it.

Outside, Y/N’s footsteps were heavy against the pavement, her body trembling as she walked farther away from the house. The cold night air bit at her skin, but she barely felt it, too lost in her own whirlwind of emotions. Guilt, shame, anger—they all swirled together, threatening to consume her.

Why did I leave? she thought bitterly, her mind screaming at her. Why did I walk away from him?

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to stop, to turn back, but something in her wouldn’t let her. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her, making her feel small, unworthy.

You don’t deserve him, her mind whispered, cruel and relentless. You’re broken. You lost his baby. How could he ever love you after that?

The thought made her stomach twist painfully, tears streaming down her cheeks once more. She had failed him. She had failed them both. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all her fault.

But it’s not just your loss, another voice whispered, softer but more painful. He lost the baby too.

That thought stopped her in her tracks, her heart clenching in her chest as the guilt washed over her in waves. Carlos had lost just as much as she had, yet here she was, leaving him behind, abandoning him in his own grief.

What am I doing? she thought desperately, her hands trembling as she wiped at her tears. He needs me. He’s hurting too. How could I just walk away?

Suddenly, she felt her heart drop into her stomach as the weight of it all hit her like a punch to the gut. She had been so consumed by her own pain, her own guilt, that she had pushed him away. And now… now she had hurt him even more.

I can’t do this. I can’t leave him.

Without another thought, she turned around, her feet moving before her mind could catch up. She had to go back. She had to make this right.

But before she could take more than a few steps, she saw a figure running toward her in the dim light. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized it was Carlos, his face pale with fear, his eyes red-rimmed and wide with desperation.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice hoarse, shaky. “Please, please don’t leave me!”

Her heart shattered at the sound of his voice, and she ran toward him, her body trembling with both relief and guilt. When they finally met, she crashed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as he held her close, his arms wrapping around her like a lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered between sobs, burying her face in his chest. “Carlos, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave, I didn’t— I just—” Her words fell apart as the weight of everything they had lost hit her again, but this time, she wasn’t running from it.

Carlos held her tightly, his own tears falling freely now, his body shaking as he tried to keep himself together for her. “It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair, his voice cracking with emotion. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands gripping his shirt, her eyes filled with anguish. “No, it’s not okay. I left you. I hurt you. I… I’m so messed up, Carlos, and I don’t know how to fix it. I hate myself for what happened, and I don’t know how to live with that. How can you stand to even look at me?”

Carlos cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with nothing but love and pain. “Because I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I love you more than anything, and nothing—nothing—is going to change that. We lost our baby, but we haven’t lost each other. We can’t lose each other. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her tears falling faster as she shook her head. “But I’m broken, Carlos. I don’t know how to be okay again.”

Carlos’s heart ached at her words, but he held her tighter, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You’re not broken,” he whispered fiercely. “You’re hurting, and that’s okay. We’re both hurting. But we’ll get through this together, mi amor. I don’t care how long it takes, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be here for every bad day, every moment you think you can’t do this. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Y/N let out a choked sob, her hands gripping his arms as if afraid he might slip away. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, her voice small and fragile.

Carlos pressed his forehead against hers, his own tears mixing with hers. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m scared too. But we’re going to be okay. I promise you, Y/N. You’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

She closed her eyes, her body shaking as she leaned into him, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know how to fix this, how to fix herself. But in that moment, wrapped in Carlos’s arms, she realized that maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe they could heal together, slowly, piece by piece.

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Carlos shook his head, pulling her even closer. “You deserve the world,” he whispered back, his voice raw. “And I’m never going to stop giving it to you.”

She pressed her face into his chest, her sobs finally subsiding, though the pain lingered. But this time, she let herself lean on him, let herself trust that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way through this together.

“Promise me you’ll stay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Carlos kissed the top of her head, his heart breaking for her, for them. “I promise,” he whispered, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I’m never letting you go.”

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Y/N believed him.

[theemporium]

Could you possibly write something for Nico where he dates shy reader and he is all lovey dovey with her post game win when they celebrate together? Perhaps she wears his jersey? Thank you for considering. 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to support Nico, it was more so the fact the games were a lot more intense and intimidating when you were in person.

You watched every game without fail, though usually it was from the comfort of your own couch whilst you were buried in one of his hoodies. And despite what people assumed, he didn’t mind. He knew you supported him. He knew that the second the game was over, you would be on the phone to him to tell him exactly what you thought of the game, always complementing the way he played regardless of whether the Devils won or lost.

And he knew games in person weren’t really your thing. You didn’t like the attention of being sat by the glass and, even though you got along with the other players’ families and friends, it still felt a little intense to be in a suite with them for the whole game. You didn’t like the pressure of having to keep up friendly small talk during the game, but Nico knew you would because you would have felt bad otherwise. 

So, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that you didn’t go to his games. 

But there was something that made his heart want to burst out of his chest on the games you did attend in person. 

“Fuck you, Panthers!” 

Nico huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at Jack’s antics. The boy was already one too many drinks deep into their post-game celebration after—by some miraculous turn of events—thrashing the Panthers on Jersey soil with a buzzing 6-1. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” Nico teased, but the boy didn’t care as he grinned widely at his captain. 

“Give it a break, Cap, go back to making heart eyes at your girl!” Jack snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. He didn’t think Nico had let go of you since he had stepped out of the locker room. “We fucking broke the streak! We are allowed to celebrate!”

“Let him have his fun,” you said, your arms tightening to gain your boyfriend’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Jack to look down at you. His gaze softened in an instant and it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You all deserve to celebrate the win after the rough streak.” 

“Hm, maybe we won because you were here,” Nico teased, though there was a sincerity in his words that made you think he truly believed his own words. “Wanna come to Montreal with us?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Today was all you, I had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nico said with a massive smile on his lips as his fingers playfully tugged on the hem of the jersey you were wearing. “We lost the last five games until my girl walked in with her lucky jersey on. I think that’s all the proof we need.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the lucky jersey in question. It was an old jersey of his, maybe one from a year or two ago. He had given it to you near the start of your relationship, when he was leaving for his first roadie since you started seeing each other. You joked about buying some Devils merch to support him whilst you watched the games and he had handed you the jersey the night before he left. You wore it for every game you watched—or at least, you tried to. 

This had been the first game in a while you had worn it since you lost it in the process of moving apartments with Nico, into an apartment big enough for the two of you.

“You hockey players and your superstitions,” you murmured, tucking your chin against your chest to hide how flushed ‘my girl’ made you.

But Nico was one step ahead of you as his hands moved to cup your cheeks, lifting your head until he could look down at your flustered face with a soft smile. “I heard kissing the captain after a win gives the team good luck for their next.”

You laughed and his expression brightened. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an old hockey legend,” Nico nodded. 

“Well, you gotta kiss him now!” Jack exclaimed from the other side of the table. “We need the luck!”

You laughed harder as you wrapped your arms around his waist once again and grinned up at him. “I think I can get behind that superstition.”

And Nico barely gave you a chance to finish your sentence before he leaned down to kiss you, his smile pressed against yours.

.

[amandacanwrite]

Halsin Headcanons For When He's In Love With You/Tav (Ungendered)

I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED TOO SOON

Generously Requested by @cryingoverpixelsetc I can't tell you how much it means to me when people actually WANT to hear about my bg3 brainrot because this game has been my escape lately and also, just a nice little break from the freelance work I have to cram to get done.

(PS if you like these, I am also a writer of my own original stories and I have some WIP's you may like.)

Quick CW|| Some graphic depictions of violence, particularly puncture wounds and viscera, intentions of heavy violence also referenced. In Battle

He trusts you, perhaps more than anyone else, to handle yourself. He doesn't hover, but he always has an eye on you as you tear into the fray.

He always seems so gentle to you that you sometimes worry about your own brutality in a fight. Especially when it leaves you covered in blood.

Because of this, you tend to keep your distance after a fight, too frightened to look into his pretty hazel eyes and see any measure of hesitance or disgust with you. Not that you've gotten used to it, you cant bear the thought of him not calling you 'my heart.'

This is only a fear for you until you got pinned down with a particularly nasty bhaalan cultist. Astarion had already been taken down in the surprise attack, then you were toppled by one of the many in the ambush.

The scream you let out as they sadistically drove their daggers through the palms of your hands was shocking even to you. You felt like a moth pinned to a board--it was too painful to try to break yourself free, even as the assailant wielded his next blade like he was about to field dress an elk.

You'd never felt fear like that.

But it didn't last long. A great cave bear launched through the air and into your attacker, wasting no time before ripping into the soft flesh of his throat and tore it out.

The smell of fear on you was strong, he knew you couldn't fight like that, so he simply stood guard over you, tearing to shreds anyone who got close from what small parts of it you can remember through the utter fear.

It was the after math of that fight when you knew you could never let him go.

He cups your face in his large, warm hands.

"Look at me, dear heart. Look upon me and remember that you're alive. There is no more threat. There is no one to hurt you. I would never let someone take you away from me before nature deigns it so."

The blades, you wept, the blades would hurt to remove.

"They will, but only for a moment, my love. Just a moment of pain before I heal you myself and carry you back to camp."

It's Astarion who removes the blades from your palms and frees you; he has the steadiest hands. But Halsin wastes no time in cradling you close to him, holding both of your hands in his own as he quietly whispers the healing word. You watch as your flesh and tendons weave themselves together. Then he envelops you and comforts you as you cry. Just cry.

How lucky it is that he is so at peace with every expression of you. He takes you as you are at all moments; whether you're bloodthirsty, joyful, or terrified. He basks in it all.

At Camp

Always touching you. Always. To him this isn't a public display of affection. It's not awkward. He loves you, why should he not touch you at every moment he can?

Sometimes it's a small thing, a broad hand on the small of your back as you discuss travel plans with Wyll. A little touch to remind you that he is there, like a tether to safety.

Other times your bodies are a tangle of comfort. Like he's looked for every way he can weave his body with yours. His fingers in your hair, your arm over his shoulder, your leg betwixt his, his wide chest lifting and falling with his sleepy breaths. This is often how you wake in the mornings with him.

Perhaps your favorite, though, is the nights by the fire. He doesn't even ask most days, just places himself behind you and offers himself as your seating arrangements for the night. His arms up behind him as he reclines against a rock or a felled tree, you sitting on his lap or between his lazily bent legs. His husky laughter tickles against your ear, the little hairs on the back of your neck. His rough voice rumbled against you as he regales the camp with yet another story of his youth.

He's a bit of a night owl. You fall asleep long before him most days.

He's also a bit disheartened by how difficult it is to find clothes that fit him in your travels together. Karlach as generously offered to share her clothes with him of course, but...something about her taste doesn't really seem to quite suit him.

(A disappointment to you, considering how nice those legs looked in infernal leather.)

He's the one who does much of the hunting for the party, along with Astarion. Halsin's a shockingly gifted fisher, though most of the fish he brings back to camp have bites in the flesh.

It was unnerving to gale at first, but he learned to live with it when he once brought back a salmon the size of a deep gnome.

When You're Alone

Rarely fully clothed. Not shocking, of course and certainly not something you would ever complain about. He usually just takes his tunic off, he says it feels restrained by it. He feels like he can breathe a bit better when his chest is bare.

No pun intended, of course.

Funny thing though, you always feel its much harder to breathe when he's shirtless.

There are no chaste kisses with this large elf. He seems to not have the restraint.

"I love the taste of you, my heart. It's the finest ambrosia. How blessed I am to have free reign to sate my appetites with you."

He likes to braid your hair and you're not sure why you're surprised at how good he is at it. Braids are a common hairstyle for elves, after all, and the man is a few centuries old. It soon becomes your favorite part of any day.

"I love how long your hair is getting, love. These times with you, my focus lost in your tresses...they have become some of my most treasured memories."

He compliments you often and freely.

One day you tell him about how you worry that you're too brutal to be with him, that you're concerned you'll scare him off one day for good.

"My heart, I spend more than half of my life in the form of a cavebear. I know I have told you how I received this scar. I may treasure the thriving, living of nature but that is only one side of the coin. Nature can be as brutal as it can be miraculous. In you, I see the beauty of brutality. I do not fear it, I admire it."

In Intimate Moments

Potential NSFW below, proceed with caution.

TW|| Mentions of consensual rough housing before...well, you know.

He is...proportionately sized...if you like.

(You do. You like very much.)

You sometimes have to remind him to get his pleasure with you. He is so pleased to be with you in this way that he forgets to indulge himself, even when it would be a moment of shared pleasure.

He loves every iteration of making love with you. He loves to take you fresh after a battle, covered in blood, to remember what it is to live and be alive.

He loves to take advantage of the vulnerability of a bath in the rivers and lakes of Faerun. Seems to particularly enjoy the sounds that come out of you as he thrusts up and into you, the sounds of your bodies muted by the water so he can hear every whimper and hitch of your breath.

He loves to hunt you. More than once you've stolen away into the forests and he gives you a head start. It's some of the most thrilling experiences you've had being intimate with someone.

This is no simple game of hide and seek, it is a true pursuit.

He always finds you quickly and he is fast, but you are faster. It's always a struggle for him to catch you. When he finally does succeed in his quest, you are so lost in the thrill and challenge of the pursuit that it becomes a struggle.

This part he always wins though. Sometimes because your desire for his body takes over your desire for besting him.

Sometimes you are still fighting when he gathers both of your wrists in a single one of his hands and carefully locks your legs beneath his.

He is careful though. He would never do anything without your express consent, without your enjoyment. He may be lost in the moment but he is old enough and wise enough to keep his head.

"Do you still want this, my love? Does your body still burn with need? Or has the pursuit run away with you?"

When you tell him you want this; you want him. That brief tarry into gentleness vanishes. He smiles sharply and turns you over, taking you as an animal in the wild might. Rough and unrelenting.

His hands dig into your thighs, your hips. His fingers tangle and pull your hair.

But when all is said and done, the kisses are soft and sweet. Peppered over your shoulders, down the path of your spine.

He collects you in his arms and soothes you.

"Have you pain anywhere? Is there anything I can get for you my love? You have been so generous with your body this night, it is only right that I take care of you for the remainder of it."

He likes to discuss your intimacy at length. He wants to know what you liked, what you didn't like, what he should change. At first you didn't like to critique, but he pressed you about it once he started to notice changes in your demeanor or reactions in the act. It's gotten much easier for you to discuss these things with him over time.

He simply loves discussing the potential of a family with you. Sometimes enough to be ready for a second round. But that second round is much gentler and more loving than the first. Like he's dreaming of a future with you.

[frost-queen]

A Sallow's mistake (Reader x Sebastian Sallow)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Reader has a crush on Sebastian & shows her gratitude for his friendship by buying him gifts. Sebastian & you often flirt to the annoyance of your friends, who don't like him. Yet you defend him at every turn. One day you hear Sebastian say awful things about you (after being pressured by his friends). Lashing out to Sebastian, you start ignoring him. Till you no longer can, where he confessed the truth to you.

Candles floated high up the ceiling at the great hall. Students sitting gathered a several spots. Entering the great hall, your eyes fell immediately on Sebastian Sallow. He sat on top of the table, surrounded by some of his friends. With a smile on your face, you went over to him. Sebastian stopped his discussion with Imelda upon seeing you arrive. – “Did you get my owl Sebastian?” – you asked resting your hands on the table to lean in. – “Owl?” – Sebastian answered thoughtfully, furrowing his brows a bit.

You hummed loud. – “My owl carried a package to you.” – you explained more. – “The feather…” – you finished, hoping he had received it. Sebastian let out a deep ‘ah’ of realization. – “That was your owl.” – he said as you nodded. – “Actually it was Poppy’s owl as mine was delivering a message to my parents.” – you informed him. – “Now it makes sense.” – he chuckled out.

“I was already wondering who my admirer would be.” – he leaned a bit closer to you, smiling. – “It was just a feather. I noticed in class, you’d broke yours after quibbling with Garreth” – you responded bashful. – “Not my finest moment.” – Sebastian laughed out that you had seen that.

“He can buy his own feathers.” – Imelda spoke interrupting the little moment of yours. Sebastian and you tore your gaze away, looking both at Imelda. – “I know that…” – Sebastian said smiling sheepishly. – “It is called being nice and considerate Imelda!” – you told her bitsy. Imelda started to laugh loud. – “Care to buy my school supplies as well?” – she mocked, crossing her arms. – “I’ll have a new broom Y/n.” – A Slytherin boy  called out.

Sebastian’s friends started to laugh loud, making you look at Sebastian with an embarrassed expression. Wondering what he would do. Sebastian swallowed nervously, clenching his hand as he hated seeing you upset. – “Alright enough!” – he called out, silencing his friends. – “Someone’s snappy.” – Imelda chuckled out.

Sebastian rolled his eyes at her. Sebastian got off the table, taking you by the arm as he led you away from them. – “That was really sweet of you.” – you told him. Sebastian was caught off guard for a moment, ruffling his hand through his hair. – “It’s quite alright Y/n.” – he responded.

“I’ll buy you some extra ink to go with that feather.” – you exclaimed happily. – “Y/n.” – Sebastian pulled you back before you could happily run off to do so. – “You… you do know you don’t have to buy me stuff.” – he reminded you. You curled up a smile, bouncing a bit on your feet. – “We’re friends. I don’t mind. See it as a friendship gift.” – you told him as his grip slipped off your sleeve.

“You can always praise me in other ways to show your gratitude.” – Sebastian leaned in closer to you, making you lean your head back as he was coming very close. A smirk on his face as it made you gulp bashful. His eyes drifting down to your lips, feeling his heart pound loudly for you. – “Y/n!” – your friends voices made him snap out of it. Your friends arrived, pulling you away from him by your arm.

“Leave her alone Sallow!” – one of your friends called out. Sebastian rolled his eyes at your friends, turning around to head back. You pulled hard so that their grip was off you. – “Can you just leave him alone!” – you told her, defending him. – “He wasn’t doing anything.”

Your friends rolled with their eyes. – “He has put a spell on you Y/n and you can’t even see it.” – one of your friends said, pushing you in the back to move forwards out of the great hall. – “More like a curse.” – another one of your friends pitched in. – “Stop it!” – you called out coming to a firm stop, making your friend bump against your back.

“You know nothing of him!” – annoyed you walked off, needing some air and be away from your friends. They were your best friends, but you didn’t like it that they were so against Sebastian.  On your way out, you encountered Garreth Weasley. – “Hello Y/n.” – he said, sliding an arm over you.

“Hello Garreth.” – you sighed out not really in a happy mood anymore. – “Who sucked the life out of you?” – he asked with a worried glance. – “Nothing.” – you told him as he guided you through the castle’s hallways. Garreth leaned a bit closer to you with his head to whisper. – “I know just the potion that can spark up your happiness.”

You gave him a hard stop in the side to stop being so ridiculous. – “Let me guess personally brewed?” – you laughed out. – “Yes, I’ve nearly narrowed it down if you would drink it, you’ll do me a great pleasure so I know if I did it right.” – he answered rubbing his side. – “Oh no Weasley.” – you laughed out, poking him in the chest. – “I’m not drinking any of your weird potions.” – clearing setting your boundaries.

“Oh come on Y/n.” – Garreth called out, taking your finger and swaying it around. – “For me?” – he put up the most precious look, trying to persuade you. You leaned a bit closer to him, smiling. – “No.” – you answered, smile dropping. Garreth groaned loud. – “You are no fun.” – he shouted at you as you walked off. – “Bye, bye Garreth!” – you waved over your head.

After history of magic, you were making your way over to defence against the dark arts class. Humming happily, you went up the spiral stairs. Going up and up till you reached the floor with the giant skeleton. You were walking behind it, suddenly stopping as you heard commotion. – “Be for real Sebastian.” – you heard Imelda’s voice cut through. Lowering yourself a bit, you tried to look between the bones of the skeleton to see what was happening.

You could see little as a little group of Slytherins were close to the wall. – “It’s a joke right?” – a boy called out as you caught a glimpse of Sebastian with his back against the wall. Sebastian kept receiving little shoves, pushing him more into the wall as you couldn’t understand much with everyone speaking over each other. – “Alright!” – Sebastian called out, seemingly panting out of breath.

“Of course I’m just sucking her dry. I mean if that fool keeps wasting her galleons on me, who am I to refuse such a generous offer. I’ve got her right under my thumb.” – Sebastian finished. Having moved a hand before your mouth, you couldn’t accept what you just heard.

The cruelty coming from him. Heartbroken, you tumbled down, sinking to your knees. Shaking your head as you didn’t want to cry over this boy. Clenching your hand, you wiped your tears aggressively away. Pushing yourself up, you weren’t going to let him get away with speaking so cruel about you. You appeared from behind the statue with a loud voice. – “Your uncle was right! You are a menace Sallow.” – you shouted rudely at him, not caring if it hurt him.

Sebastian’s eyes widened with a gasp upon seeing you. His friends gaping in shock at you. – “You are pathetic!” – you screamed out before running up to class. Sebastian looked shameful at the ground that you had heard that. Your words also cutting deeper into his heart than he dared to admit. Sebastian quietly went to class, seeing you stand near Leander.

Sebastian made an effort to approach you, but seeing you take Leander by his sleeve and showing your back to him, made clear to him you didn’t want to speak to him. Sebastian turned his head, gaze gliding the ground as he went to sit at the last bench. Ominis coming to sit beside him. – “What’s up with you?” – he asked, his wand flickering with a red spark. – “Nothing.” – Sebastian grunted out.

After class, you immediately left, leaving no room for Sebastian to come near. You didn’t want him near. Perhaps your friends were right about him. There were several attempts on his behalf, but you rejected them all before he could utter a word. Leaving him with nothing but guilt. This going on for 11 days now. For 11 days you had been ignoring Sebastian Sallow. Holding the invite in your hand, you so hoped Sebastian wouldn’t be there.

You loved going to crossed wands, but knew there was a chance he’d be there too. Opening the door, you arrived at the crossed wands spot. Lucan already waving you over. There were already a group of people. Leander amongst them. – “Are you ready for another round of crossed wands, Y/n?” – Lucan asked you excitedly. – “I suppose.” – you answered, looking around to be sure Sallow wasn’t around.

“I’ll let you have the first round.” – Lucan gestured at the open space as you took your place. – “Who wants to duel with Y/n?” – Lucan asked loud as Leander stepped forwards, holding his hand up. – “I’ll duel her!” – your eyes widened with gasp seeing Sebastian approach, lowering his hand. – “But I was going to duel her.” – Leander whined out. Sebastian shot him a glare.

“I’d rather duel Leander.” – you said, crossing your arms. – “Too bad sweetheart because you are duelling me today.” – Sebastian answered taking his stand. Groaning loud, you knew you had to duel him. Tightening your grip on your wand, you readied yourself. – “When you are ready.” – Lucan said to begin the duel. – “Feeling dried out now that your gifting fool isn’t spending her galleons on you anymore?” – you called out to taunt him.

“Y/n that wasn’t…” – Sebastian answered as you didn’t want to hear it. – “Stupify!” – you shouted, waving your wand at him. Sebastian casted protego as your spell vaporized. – “Will you just listen to me!” – he called out, waving his wand at you. You casted protego yourself, deflecting his spell. – “Why would I listen to someone so cruel as you!” – You responded angered, casting Levioso at him.

Sebastian got lifted up from the ground, legs dangling up in the air. – “I lied Y/n!” – Sebastian shouted trying to get himself back down. You laughed loud, not believing one bit of it. Sebastian dropped to the ground, landing firmly. – “They made me say all those awful things about you.” – he wanted you to know.

“You could’ve just told them no!” – you responded with tension in your expression. Sebastian casted a spell at you, making you roll over the ground to dodge it. – “I hate myself for giving in to it." - he confessed panting loud. You fired a basic spell at him as he used protego again. – “Can’t you see that I never meant it. Y/n what you heard were lies. I would never speak such cruelty over you.” – Sebastian let out.

“Enough!” – you shouted, waving your wand as another basic spell fired his way. – “I like you!” – Sebastian shouted loud, deflecting your spell. – “Expelliarmus!” – he called out making your wand fly out of your hand. In shock you stared at him. Sebastian panting loud. – “Now that was a duel.” – Lucan said, clapping loud. Sebastian got aware of the crowd. You lowered yourself to pick up your wand. Sebastian tugged his wand away, running over to you.

“Please Y/n, know that I regret saying it. I never meant it… please… I just want you back…” – he spoke touching your arm. Still feeling  a bit hurt, you did felt some sympathy for him. – “I… I forgive you.” – you told him, turning away to leave. – “Sebastian another round?” – Lucan offered as Sebastian held his hand up to him, telling him to stay back before running after you.

“Y/n! Y/n!” – Sebastian panted out catching up with you. You came to a stop, with a soft sigh. – “I’m giving you another chance Sebastian.” – you let him know. Sebastian curled up a smile. – “Thank you.” – he said leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. Happily he took off, making you chuckle softly. It took Sebastian about another week before asking you out for butterbeer in Hogsmeade. After that the two of you just started to love each other.

----------------------------------------

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[msriri030]

Mafia!Ren/ [Redacted] x Reader

TW: mention and brief scene Abuse, slight mention of murder.

The night air was cold and heavy, each step you took down the dimly lit street weighed down by the lingering dread of what awaited you at home. You kept your head down, hands buried in your pockets, hoping, praying that tonight might be different—that your dad would be passed out, or maybe out drinking somewhere, anything to keep him away from you for just a few hours. But deep down, you knew he was there. He was always there, waiting for the next excuse to unleash his anger, fueled by the alcohol that twisted his thoughts into rage.

He would shout, throwing out slurs and curses, blaming your mother for leaving him, accusing her of destroying the family. You understood why she left—he was a monster to her. But what you couldn’t understand, what tore at your heart every time you thought about it, was why she left you behind. Why had she left you to fend for yourself with him?

These questions haunted you, but tonight, you pushed them away. Survival was all that mattered. You just needed to keep going, one more shift, one more day, until you had enough money to get out. You were so close. Just a little longer.

You quickened your pace as you neared home, bracing yourself for whatever was behind that door. The sounds of traffic and the city faded into the background as you got lost in your thoughts, barely noticing that you were walking straight into oncoming traffic until strong hands grabbed your arm, pulling you back with surprising force.

"Watch out, miss," a deep voice said with a small smile. "I don’t like seeing a pretty angel walking into traffic."

You blinked, stunned, and glanced up to find a large man standing beside you, concern etched on his face. “Giant… I—I’m sorry, how rude of me. Thank you for saving me, Mr...?”

"Mr. Ren," he replied with a grin, his voice calm and assured. "Just Ren is fine. And you are?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to trust him, but there was something in his steady gaze that put you at ease. “(First name)… (Last name).”

Ren raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Wait, (Last name)? Is... is (your father’s name) your husband?"

Your face flushed with a mix of surprise and frustration. “NO! He’s my father.” You quickly added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You paused for a second before offering hesitantly, “Why don’t I treat you to something? As a thank you, you know, for saving me?”

He chuckled softly, nodding. "A coffee sounds perfect. Just to keep you safe a little longer."

You nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. There was something in his presence—calming, strong—that made the coldness of the night feel less oppressive. Together, you walked to a nearby diner, its neon lights casting a soft, inviting glow in the darkness.

Once inside, you settled across from Ren. The warm atmosphere of the diner contrasted sharply with the cold night outside, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe. Ren ordered two coffees, and as the two of you sat there, you couldn’t help but take in more of his appearance: the black hair tipped with pink, the piercings that glinted under the soft light, the tattoos that peeked out from under his sleeves and shirt collar. But it was his hands that caught your attention—scarred and calloused, like someone who had fought their own battles. The kind of hands that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t quite place.

"Something on your mind, angel?" Ren’s voice broke the silence. His eyes were kind, but there was an edge to them, as if he knew there was something more behind your guarded expression. “What made you so lost in thought that you didn’t see the cars?”

You hesitated, tracing the rim of your coffee cup with your finger, unsure of how much to say. "Just… life, I guess," you replied softly. "It’s been a little heavy."

Ren nodded, his gaze softening, understanding without needing more words. "Life can be a lot sometimes," he said quietly. "But it doesn’t stay dark forever. Even the longest nights end."

Your heart tightened at his words, an unexpected wave of warmth washing over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling a flicker of hope in your chest.

You spent the next hour in easy conversation, the kind that allowed you to forget about the weight of the world for a while. When you finally checked the time, you realized it was late, and the reality of your situation rushed back.

Ren seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor. “Do you need someone to walk you home?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, looking down the street toward the house that still felt like a prison. The thought of facing your father alone, of being caught in that cycle again, made your stomach twist with dread. “If you don’t mind…”

He smiled and stood, offering his hand. “Not at all, angel.”

You blushed, taking his hand.

The walk to your house was quiet, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel suffocating. Ren’s presence beside you, strong and steady, made the night feel less dark, less frightening. When you reached the door, your heart sank as you heard your father’s drunken voice spilling out from inside. The slurred words, the anger, the madness—it was all too familiar.

You turned to Ren, forcing a weak smile onto your face. “Thank you, Ren. I—I hope—”

Before you could finish, the door slammed open with a violent crash. Your father stood in the doorway, his wild eyes landing on you before narrowing in fury. He shoved you hard, sending you falling backward. Your back hit the floor with a painful thud, the wind knocked out of you. 

“YOU USELESS BRAT!” he shouted, his voice full of venom and alcohol.

You gasped, struggling to breathe as his boot slammed down on your chest, pressing all the air out of your lungs. Desperately, You clawed at his leg. You tried to push his foot off, but his weight was crushing.

“You think you can just come and go as you please?” he sneered, each word a dagger. “You’re just like your mother—always running off. Always a disappointment!”

You bit back the tears threatening to spill, your hands trembling as you still were trying to pry his foot off. The words cut deeper than his blows ever could, but you refused to cry in front of him. You wouldn’t give this man that satisfaction of breaking you.

Then, like a storm crashing through the door, Ren’s voice rang out, cold and deadly. “(Last name). Get. OFF. Her.”

You barely had time to process the change in the air before Ren was there, his massive frame a shadow over your father. He stood like a wall, his presence intimidating, overwhelming, as if the very air around him shifted with authority.

Your father, drunk and staggering, turned to face Ren, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. “Who the hell are you?” he slurred, his bravado fading quickly. “This isn’t your business…”

Ren didn’t let him finish. Without a word, he grabbed your father by the shirt and effortlessly lifted him off the ground, holding him with one hand. Your father’s eyes widened in terror, the drunken fog clearing just enough to see who was standing in front of him. “Mr. [Redacted]!” Your father whimpered, his voice shaking. “Please! I didn’t mean any disrespect! I’ll pay back the money, I swear!”

Ren tossed him aside like he was nothing more than a nuisance, his cold eyes never leaving your father. “You disrespected me when you laid a hand on my angel,” Ren hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “If I ever see you even breathing the same air as my angel, I am afraid you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Your father crumbled, falling to the ground as Ren released him with a final shove. He fell back against the wall, eyes wide, too terrified to move.

Ren turned to you then, his expression softening as he crouched down to meet your gaze. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your chest aching from both the pain and the overwhelming sense of relief. “I… I think so.”

He reached out, offering his hand to help you up. “You’re not staying here,” Ren said firmly, glancing back at your father, who was still crumpled in a heap against the wall. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your heart racing as you grabbed your bag and followed Ren out the door. As you stepped into the cool night air with him by your side, you realized that for the first time in a long while, you weren’t just surviving. You were escaping. And maybe, just maybe, you were finally free….Or entering a new cage.