#they don't know how to have a relationship

[ninikrumbs]

The look of love, the rush of blood

Sukuna x reader. est relationship. down bad Sukuna

BoyfriendSukuna wasn't clingy or needy. He's not the type to cry over a day without seeing you, nor is he the type to pester you with constant messages or calls about your where abouts and annoying you to come see him. A simple text about your plans for the day or even a post it note on the fridge -for the days you slept over which was almost everyday - was enough for him. He was possessive, but he can survive a day or two without you.

Or so he thought.

BoyfriendSukuna was dropping you off your best friends house for an impromptu sleepover. Your best friend just got dumped and now you need to be her shoulder to cry on or whatever. That was fine or at least it was until you mentioned that you didn't know when you'll be sleeping over his place cause apparently these things "take time" and are "unpredictable."

Surprising even himself, he didn't like that. He didn't like that at all. He realized if you weren't sleeping over his apartment, he'd usually crawl into your bed late at night. Still he thought it wasn't a necessity, that falling asleep next to you was a want not a need. Yet now that he doesn't have that option..

Vein throbbing, Sukuna can give your best friend tonight, but tomorrow you will be back on his bed where you belong.

You were saying your final goodbyes in front of his car window. Eyes bright and laced with a warmth he believes you only reserve for him, "Bye, Kuna! Ill give you updates everyday!"

He grits his teeth. Why did it sound like you were going on a month long cruise?

"Oi." He calls out before you could turn around.

Tilting your head, "Kuna?"

For a moment he kept quiet. Carmine eyes taking their time drinking you in, having his fill of you as if he won't see you for weeks. They snap to back to your pretty face, tracing every slope and curve. "Come closer, brat."

And you do which makes his lips curl a bit. Always so obedient for him.

With his left hand, his touch firm yet gentle on the back of your head as he pushes your face towards his.

Soft lips against his rough ones, kissing you long and fervently, devouring you whole in one kiss. He feels you melting into it, whimpering such pretty sounds into his mouth. The tension finally eases out of him and it takes everything in him to pull away.

"Ill pick you up tomorrow," He murmurs against your lips, breath mingling with yours.

You blink. Once. Twice, "But Kuna-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, but softer this time. Gentle even. "No buts, brat. Ill pick you up tomorrow evening at the latest. She gets no more than that. You can visit here everyday for all I care, but you're sleeping with me."

A knowing smile teases your lips, "Are you gonna miss me that much, Kuna?"

"Shut up." He grunts, rolling your eyes at how pleased you look.

You burst out laughing and he hates at how pathetically melts at the sound. How it makes his insides warm like some love sick fool.

After brushing a imaginary tear from your eye, you lean back to his face and press a soft kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry. Ill have one of our other friends sleepover tomorrow night."

"Whatever."

Your smile widens into a grin, "I'll just tell them my big bad boyfriend can't sleep without me."

"Don't you dare-"

You run towards the door before he could do anything, laughter ringing out the driveway. And the way you smile makes his chest tighten in the most pathetic way.

The moment you disappear from view. He groans, dragging a hand down his face.

Fuck.

He didn't realized he was so down bad that going home without you felt like a life sentence.

So pathetic. So damn pathetic for you.

[draconym]

How did you come to aquire Ripley? (You guys seem to have a good relationship but I like want to make sure they're owned ethically as an exotic animal and all that. Sorry if you've answered this before </3)

The short answer is: I bought him.

Back in 2008 when I started looking to adopt a large parrot, there wasn't much info easily available about caring for birds in captivity. Most of the information I had, I got from books and my local bird keeping club. I wanted to rescue a bird, but there weren't any rescues in my area. There was, however, a woman who lived very close to me, who attended the bird keeping club at the library, and who had a pair of African greys she was planning to breed.

In 2009 I got to meet Ripley as a fledgling (as well as his family) and watch him grow up. When I took him home about half a year later, he was pretty sure I had kidnapped him (understandable). At 23 I was pretty sure I could handle a large parrot because I had lived with lovebirds and cockatiels and read a lot of books. Ha ha. Little did I know, I had just adopted a creature that vets would describe as "extremely strong willed and sensitive" (a bastard).

I think breeding parrots for sale at all is a thorny ethical issue. I love Ripley and I think he's thriving, but I don't think most species of large parrots should be bred to be pets at all. All the birds I've had since I got Ripley have been rescues, and I don't have plans to adopt any more. They're a ton of work and they live forever. If Ripley and I are lucky, we might be together for another 50 years.

In other news, yesterday Ripley broke his 356 day streak of not biting anyone because I dared to suggest to him that he join me on the couch instead of roaming the kitchen unsupervised.

[withahappyrefrain]

Bobby, who's only had sex a handful of times, has his dick sucked maybe once, not realizing how fucking big his dick is. It's not comically large, but definitely larger than average. Him thinking you're pretending when you're gagging on his dick, even going as far as to roll his eyes because why are you being so dramatic

"Tryna take it all, Bobby, you're so big," and something about your cock drunk whine snaps something in him

I see this for Bob Reynolds! He's definitely on the inexperienced side. It's not from disinterest, he just hasn't been in the most stable mindset. During the moments he was clean, he was always told not to get into a relationship, otherwise doing so would put his sobriety at risk. Plus, that man has low self esteem, he's not downloading Tinder.

So when he's in a relationship with you, it's all very new- dating, emotional intimacy, and the physical intimacy.

When you ask to go down on him, he's a little shocked. Does it matter that much? Poor guy is so used to downplaying his needs 😭

"Uh, sure? If you want to!" He quickly adds, not wanting to put pressure on you.

Bob never thought a blowjob could be life changing.

"You're so pretty Robby." He doesn't know what's making him blush harder; your special nickname or the way your fingers are tracing the veins along his hard shaft.

"R-really?" His hips jerk when he feels your breath on his cock, "I mean, it's....fine. I don't think, I mean, it's nothing special, just-"

Trying to get Bob to take a compliment is something you're still working on. So instead, you shut him up by closing your lips over the head of his cock. The action causes Bob to throw his head back, biting his lower lip to keep that moan in.

The last thing he needs is another 'sex talk' with Alexi. Not even Yelena can save him from that.

Thoughts of his roommates quickly fly out the door. All he can do is watch you try to take him. There's a quarter of his shaft you're not reaching, using your hand instead.

Now, Bob is trying not to judge. He's truly grateful someone as amazing as you wants to be with someone like him. But truly, he can't be that big? No one in the past has ever made those sounds when they were with him. And Bob has watched porn. He knows it's possible to gag on it, but he also knows those are actors who are playing it up. So why are you?

"Are you....good?" He asks. It's blunt but the nicest way he can think to phrase it.

The whine that escapes your mouth vibrates against him, nearly sending Bob into a tailspin.

"You're just so big Robby. Tryin' to take all of you." Desperation laces your voice, amplified by the fact you dive back to taking his cock into your mouth, throat constricting as you tried to take more. His large hands grip your shoulders, his lithe hips now jerking forward.

"You're-fuck- you feel r-really good," His voice is strained. Now that doubt isn't clouding his mind, he can actually let go and feel. Your mouth is so warm and soft. He loves how you have one hand kneading the soft flesh of his thigh, the other stroking up and down his shaft.

"C'mon Robby. Wanna taste ya."

Turns out, Bob Reynolds does indeed enjoy blowjobs.

[luna-azzurra]

Ways I Show a Character Who Believes They’re the Villain in Everyone Else’s Story

╰ Behavioral Red Flags

They assume the worst intentions in themselves, even when they act out of love. They brought you coffee? Probably just guilt. They helped you move? Must be manipulating you so you "owe" them later. (They just care. But they can't believe that's true.)

They over-apologize for existing. You bump into them and somehow they’re the ones apologizing, looking like they've personally inconvenienced your entire bloodline.

They self-monitor everything. Every joke they make. Every word they say. Every look they give. Constant little glances at people's faces, desperate for signs that they’ve messed up again.

They let people treat them badly because they think they deserve it. Rudeness? Sure. Being overlooked? Of course. Public humiliation? Absolutely par for the course. Standing up for themselves feels wrong, like a thief demanding a refund.

They preemptively distance themselves when things get good. Got a close friendship brewing? Time to pull away before they find out I'm terrible. New romance? Better end it now before they hate me.

They assume jokes about "bad people" are secretly about them. "You know those selfish jerks who never change?" someone says. Their inner monologue: That’s me. They mean me.

They play up their flaws. Self-deprecating humor, but not cute self-roasting, deep, almost aggressive, like they’re trying to hand you the knife before you even think about stabbing.

They struggle to accept forgiveness. Apologizing feels natural. Being forgiven feels alien. Like wearing shoes on the wrong feet.

╰ Thought Patterns That Wreck Them

"Even when I try to do the right thing, I mess it up." Trying doesn't absolve them. Trying just delays the inevitable hurt they’ll cause someone else."People are nice to me because they don't know who I really am." Kindness isn't acceptance to them — it's a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode when the "truth" comes out.

"If someone is angry at me, they must be right." They don't even question it. Anger directed at them must be justified. They deserve it.

"If I succeed, it's by accident. If I fail, it's because I suck." Zero credit for wins. Full credit for losses. The math of their self-esteem is so rigged it should be illegal.

"If I ask for help, I'm manipulating people." Needing something feels like emotional blackmail in their mind. Better to suffer in silence than risk "forcing" someone to care.

╰ The Tiny Physical Tells

Laughing after their own serious statements, as if to soften the blow of speaking honestly.

Keeping their hands visible when talking (subconscious "I'm not a threat" behavior).

Flinching when someone raises their voice, even if it’s not directed at them.

Making themselves physically smaller—shoulders hunched, arms crossed, shrinking into themselves like they can disappear if they just try hard enough.

Dropping eye contact when complimented.

Holding their breath without realizing it when waiting for someone's reaction.

���The Relationships They Gravitate Toward (And Why):

Fixer-Upper Friendships: They think they have to earn affection by being useful, by helping, by being "the strong one."

Unbalanced Dynamics: They let people use them because "at least I'm being helpful, even if they don't actually care about me."

Romantic Partners Who Validate Their Worst Fears: They often fall for people who treat them like they’re a burden—because it matches the script in their head.

Or... Relationships That Terrify Them: Because if someone genuinely loves them, they’re always waiting for the moment that person "wakes up" and sees the "monster" they believe themselves to be.

╰ How They Might Heal (If They’re Lucky)

(And if the author isn’t an emotional sadist. 👀)

A relationship where mistakes are allowed, not punished.

Someone calling them out, not for being bad, but for being unkind to themselves.

Tiny acts of trust that stick over time, slowly poisoning the idea that they’re inherently toxic.

Learning that being flawed and being villainous are not the same damn thing.

Being told, over and over, "You don't have to earn love by being perfect."

[reignpage]

The Best Kind of Remedy

Synopsis: in which your herbalist boyfriend, Geto, has just the thing to cure your ailments Warnings: smut, established relationship sex, penetrative sex, sex whilst under the influence (smoking weed), dubcon?, thigh riding, dirty talk, degradation, lots of praise, unprotected sex, creampie, handjob, brief fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, cum eating, personification of the pussay, not proofread Word Count: 3.1k

Herbalist!Geto is your boyfriend — you can always count on him to cure your ailments with a conversation, sometimes even with just a glance. He has green tea bags ready for your morning bloating, elderberry syrup for your colds, and aloe vera compress for burns, among other things.

Visits to his clinic on Friday nights are routine; you show up just as he’s closing, and he gives you a small smile when he lets you in. “Hey, was just about to text you.”

“Long day?”

Popular and well-respected, he gets customers from all over the country. They swarm to his clinic in hopes of securing a face-to-face consultation with the man himself, eating up every advice, and treasuring each prescription. He’s trustworthy, smart, observant, innovative, and so damn hot. Long hair tied at the back, broad shoulders stretching out the lab coat he wears, and smelling of something floral and earthy, you don't blame any of the girls who come in just to ogle at him.

“A little tiring but I feel energised now that you’re here.” He brushes a lock of your hair back, thumb tilting your chin up so he can get a good look at you. “You haven’t been sleeping well again?”

Herbalist!Geto shrugs off his coat, revealing a loose black shirt underneath, which rises up when he stretches out the lethargy in his bones, revealing a seductive sliver of his boxers and the sharp cut of his abs. 

“I’m exhausted but I can’t rest; I feel on edge all the time.”

He's quiet for just a second, analysing the depth of your dark circles and jittery limbs. There’s an odd glint in his eyes when he places a heavy hand on your head and says, “I might have just the thing.”

That’s how you find yourself in the backroom, sitting on his sofa next to him. He’s rolling up a joint with expert hands, sprinkling a green line across the paper, shaping it into a neat little cone. Fingers pinching the air, he rolls it back and forth, and when ready, puts it up to your lips.

“Go on, pretty girl.” A little nervous, you eye him first and he waits patiently. You lick the edge of the paper, keeping eye contact, even when brings it up to his mouth and licks exactly where you did. It’s sealed and he taps it against your lips like some kind of good luck ritual. “This is your first time, right? Well, then, you’re going to have to listen very carefully to me. Can you do that?”

You nod. 

He tuts. “Use your words, pretty.”

“I’ll listen.”

“Good girl.”

Window open, he seems at ease when he lights the spliff and takes a deep inhale, immediately slumping back into the sofa, arm thrown over the back right behind you, and legs spread so far you’re trying hard not to stare at what’s between them. “Start off with a light inhale. Just suck gently, like you’re sipping from a straw, and don’t hold it for too long. Only a second or two and then breathe out. Got it?”

Smiling, you follow his instructions. It smells earthy, like him, with a hint of something sweet. Embarrassingly, you’re coughing not even a second after you’ve inhaled — it’s dry in a way you weren’t expecting. Head falling onto his chest, his amused huff shakes you a little.

“Sorry, baby. Here, drink some water.”

Just as you’ve gulped down a whole cup of water he had prepared like he knew this would happen, you grill him about this part of him he’s been hiding. “I didn’t know you smoked weed. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Blowing a puff into the air, away from your face, he shrugs. “Always forgot. I don’t smoke too often; don’t ever want to get reliant. But I’ve been growing my own, experimenting, trying to find the best kind. I didn’t want to make you smoke anything less than perfect, after all.”

You’re leaning against his chest, too scared to reach for another puff so you settle for listening to him instead. “There are different types of weed?”

“Yeah. Different strains of weed, just like growing any kind of plant. Some people mix different things into their harvest based on preference. I’ve mixed all sorts of juices with mine. This one has a hint of strawberry — thought you might like to taste something a little more familiar.”

The air’s growing thicker and hazy. Even from one inhale, you’re already feeling more relaxed, like time’s moving slower. “Hmm, this is kinda nice. I want more but I don’t want to choke; it’s humiliating.”

Head tilting back, he pecks you on your lips, tenderly. 

“Don't be embarrassed. It's just me. Come on, I’ll blow it for you. Open for me. That’s it.” Hot air, tasting ever so slightly like strawberry and him, fills your mouth and you swallow, letting it float into your lungs. "Better?"

Nodding, you climb onto his lap, suckling on his lips, seeking more, unable to help yourself. Something is making you feel restless even though you’re slowly melting into your most relaxed self. “Sugu…I feel weird.”

Herbalist!Geto’s free hand smoothes your hair, calming you. “You’re alright, baby. I’ve got you. I had a feeling you’d get worked up.”

“The weed’s making me horny?”

A slow grin appears on his face. He tilts his head, slightly mocking, and says, “You haven’t had nearly enough to go all empty in that pretty head of yours. Look at you. You’re grinding on my thigh and you don’t even realise? That’s adorable.”

You gasp and glance down. He’s right; you’re rocking back and forth on his muscular thigh, leaving a wet trail over his cotton pants whilst your skirt pools around your hips. Senses heightened, you can’t stop, not when the friction feels so good and he’s flexing his thigh to urge you to an orgasm. 

“Hmm, I treat you to my weed and you thank me by feeling good by yourself? Maybe I should start calling you my ‘selfish girl.’ You’re making me feel all lonely here.”

An apology is muttered against his lips. Clinging onto his shirt, you use him as leverage to get into a rhythm. The haze is emboldening you and the only hint of surprise that pops up on his face is a quirk of a brow when you fish out his hard cock. It’s thick and pretty — he keeps it tidy down there and the dark pink tip makes your mouth water. Leaking pearlescent drops, you use it to lubricate his length. Then, you rub up and down in time with your grinding, keen to see his lips part and his eyes go glossy. 

“Poor baby doesn’t like cumming by herself, does she? No, of course not. But you’re already making a -hah- mess on my thigh so you might want to -ngh- pick up the pace otherwise we’ll both be very disappointed, won’t we?”

Shuddering, the corner of his mouth twitches when he feels your thumb rub his slit, running it down a bit of his foreskin. Exposing more of his sensitive skin to the air, he has to take a puff to stop himself from cumming too soon. 

Herbalist!Geto’s head is thrown back, long, slender neck looking so delectable you mouth kisses all over his skin, smiling when he groans. “I thought weed was s-supposed to make you less tense, not more mean.”

He laughs and blows the smoke right into your open mouth. “That’s a lot of —tighter, baby, rub my tip too, you know just how I like it, yeah, good girl— a lot of -hah- talk from someone who always cums hard after being treated a little mean.”

True to his words, you cum all over his leg, tightening your hold on his cock subconsciously and he grunts with the sudden pressure. 

“Ah, Suguru! Fuck, so good.”

Palming your thigh, he smiles to himself when you slump on his chest. “Got a filthy mouth on you. Should wash it out, shouldn’t I?”

You’re just about to get up and lap up his length when he stops you. 

“N-no, don’t think I can wait.” Panties pushed to the side, you embrace the fingers he slides inside your sloppy pussy, stretching your gummy walls in preparation for this cock. You’re moaning, emboldened by the curling of his fingers against a spot inside that renders you breathless. “Hmm, you’re so tight. That the weed or have I not been taking care of you recently?”

A squeal leaves your lips when he withdraws those fingers without waiting for your answer and pulls you down on his leaking length all in one go. It’s almost painful, but the smoke you’ve inhaled is dulling and heightening your senses all at once — you can’t feel the pinch of the stretch but you can feel every vein, every throb, every inch of his cock filling you up completely. 

“Sugu,” you whine, “not so suddenly.”

Herbalist!Geto chuckles. “Sorry, baby. Just couldn’t -hah fuck you’re too tight- h-help myself. You know I love feeling you stretch around me.”

Tears spring to your eyes from the stretch. He throbs inside you. Once. Twice. 

“Pretty baby crying for me? Oh, you spoil me.” Fallen tears are licked up, thoroughly hydrating and fuelling his teasings. "Once you've adjusted, get to work, alright? Want you to show me how grateful you are."

Leaning back on his wide-spread thighs, you offer him a great view of your pussy lips wrapping around his girth. There’s already a light sheen of wetness coating his length and the sight is making him lightheaded. Slowly, you begin gyrating, grinding in circles so you can get used to the ache before your thighs are pushing up and down. He shoots you a wink when he senses your growing embarrassment at just how sloppy you've gotten and so quickly. 

"Hear that? Pretty pussy's saying, 'Thank you.' Polite little thing, isn't she? She needs to be rewarded, no? So go on, ride me."

Barely been touched, and loud squelches are already coming out of your pussy, reminding you of just how well-trained your body is for him. Never wanting to disappoint him, you push your limbs to set a pace you know gets you both going. His breathy moans guide you, setting tingles all over your skin. 

Your shirt is pulled up and pressed to your mouth. You bite the hem, baring your tits to his eyes. “Missed my girls — was thinking about them -ngh- all day. S-still taste as good as they look?

He’s sucking a nipple, rolling the bud around with the tip of his tongue, flicking and suckling in rapid succession. Undeterred by your bouncing, he keeps his mouth full, groaning when you grind down on his balls. "Oh, yeah, my sweet girls."

Every bounce makes you lightheaded, dazed with pleasure. 

"Should come visit me more often. Was starting to think you hate me." He teases. 

Frantically shaking your head, you say, "N-no. I was just busy."

"Too busy for me?"

"Never."

He blows yet another puff of smoke into your mouth, enjoying the breathy mutter of gratitude that you give him. "Good. I'd be devastated if I —oh, fuck, baby, ride me faster, yeah, good girl— if I couldn't see you as often as I'd -hah- like. You know you're the only thing that keeps me going, don't you?"

"Yes, Sugu —ah, yes, yes, you're so big!"

Sucking a mark in between the valley of your breasts, he gazes at his work, licking his lips and loving the salty taste of your skin. "If I didn't love your pussy as much as I love you, I might start to get jealous over h-how much you love my -ngh!- cock."

Kisses to that gooey spot inside you by his angry cockhead has your pussy growing sloppier and sloppier until a thick creamy ring forms around his base and he can’t help but thumb it and bring it up to your lips. It’s dirty, it’s filthy, obscene, and you suck it up with no hesitation, tasting both of your juices on your tongue. 

Herbalist!Geto dives forward, smothering your moans. The earthy taste of strawberries mixes in, tongues wrapping around each other as he seeks out your taste, swallowing every drop of you. He grunts. 

Swivelling your hips, you have to pull back, gasping for air and finding nothing to bring you sanity. Your pussy’s gripping onto him like it could absorb his soul into your very being and the plap plap plap of your skin smacking against his is all you can hear. 

This is unlike your usual sex — he's usually much more controlled, much cleaner in his movements, more thoughtful in his approach. Now, you're seeking out your pleasure with no care in the world, just bouncing rhythmlessly and clumsily, slipping and sliding, moaning and whining, and he's letting you. 

It seems you're not the only one affected by the weed.

A cloud of smoke rises up from his mouth, jaw hanging from just how hot and heavenly you feel around him. You suck it in, swallowing the dry air. But then he’s pulling you back into yet another kiss, that puff being exchanged back and forth like a dirty game of tennis until it’s completely gone and you’re fuelled only by the sickly sweet taste of him. 

“Your stamina’s improved, hah. Remember your first -ngh!- first time riding me? Hmm, pretty? You could hardly last more -ah fuck! don’t squeeze down on me like that- t-than a couple bounces before you were drooling on my chest and begging me to f-fuck up into you.”

Wetly smacking back down onto his lap, your clit grinds down on his pelvis, teased and tortured. 

"Always so keen to make me feel good, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes, yess! Oh, fuck, so full. I feel so full."

Herbalist!Geto hums sardonically. "Silly girl isn't even listening to me. You say you want to be praised m-more but we both know you get wetter when you're called a dirty, little slut. My dirty, little slut."

His free hand travels down your ass, giving it a tight squeeze before he lays a not-so gentle slap against it just to feel you tighten around him. 

"Say it."

SMACK!

“Ah, Suguru! I'm your dirty, l-little slut."

You gasp. You could have sworn another vein grew on his long length, teasing your walls and catching onto your greedy pleats, desperate to keep him inside. 

Thick cock worms its way inside, forcing your walls to memorise every curve and vein on its way up and back down. He’s making shallow thrusts up, striking against your g-spot with expert skill. “Missed you so much, baby. All those customers drive me crazy — none of them follow instructions as well as you do.”

Herbalist!Geto's growing closer to a damn good orgasm; he always gets more sentimental at the brink of cumming and it's why your hips don't dare stutter as you work him again and again, taking him deeper and faster.

“I’m a -hah- good girl, that’s why, Sugu.” You grin. 

He plants a sloppy kiss on your lips, enamoured by that sparkly smile. “Hmm, you are. Always such a good girl. My best girl.”

Blunt completely forgotten about and discarded somewhere, both of his hands are clutching your body close to him. One is digging into the plush of your ass, loving the ripples of the flesh with every collision of your hips to his, and the other is groping your tit.

Hips so nasty and gluttonous, it steals grunts from him, ugly, unrefined sounds that he doesn’t care if you hear. “You’re close…I can feel it. Go on, pretty. Cum all over my c-cock. Show me -hah- how much you l-love me.”

Both of your eyes are glazed over, whether from the weed or from the waves of pleasure cresting, neither of you can tell. You just fight through the ache in your joints as you bounce faster and faster on his cock, fingers rubbing against your swollen clit, sticky and slippery. Inside, you can feel his cock stiffening, growing bigger and bigger ever so slightly and you know he’s about to burst. 

Foggy, the only thing in the room you can see is his face: bead of sweat dripping down his temple, strands of hair come loose from his bun littering his forehead, and his lips are bitten pink, matching the flush on his cheeks. He's beautiful.

“Fuck, the weed’s drying my mouth out. M-make yourself useful and -hgnh!- help me out, won’t you, baby?” Like it's been wired into your brain, a fat glob drips down from your mouth and onto his awaiting tongue before you can even process the command. Just as soon as it pools into his mouth, he’s swallowing it, eyes rolling back from the taste of you.“Such a good fucking girl. You're making me lose my goddamn mind.”

You cum first. 

Clinging onto him, you whimper, clit oversensitive from the weed coursing through your veins. There’s no rhythm to his thrusts, he’s simply chasing the pulsing of your sloppy cunt, cockhead kissing that spot inside you he loves so much before his orgasm quickly follows. 

Herbalist!Geto buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and painting your walls white with a flurry of hot cum. It fills your entire body, almost as if you can feel it in your lungs and when you swallow, you delude yourself into believing it's reached your throat too.

The haze still hasn’t passed — it’s making your heartbeat so damn loud and you’re just about to ask if he can hear it but he beats you to the answer by pressing a tender kiss against your pulse, murmuring, “Me too. Mine’s beating fast too.”

Neither of you takes out his cock, much too content to let it soften inside you and much too tired to care that it’s unplugging all your cum out and making an even bigger mess on his lap. 

You’re dozing off, coming down with him when he slumps back into the sofa, letting your head rest against his chest. Deeply satisfied, you mutter, “We gotta do this again.”

“The weed or the sex?” 

Herbalist!Geto’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, pulling down your shirt and keeping you close. He chuckles when he hears you say, ‘both.’

“Whatever helps you sleep, pretty. I’m always happy to be of service, even off-hours, for my favourite client but let’s keep this bonus package between us, yeah? Don't need more of those people coming in here.”

Half-asleep now, you mutter, “Just for me?”

He lays a kiss on top of your head. 

“Only you.”

[alexanderwales]

See, what you have to do is build the world from the very start so that friendship magic and love magic are a part of it, and everyone is highly adapted to it, and the social structures are built around it.

"Anyone who died wasn't loved enough" is a fantastic premise for a world. Having friends and family (and multiple redundant friends and family) is suddenly vitally important, especially if it's protecting you from death by old age and the sudden stopping of love can kill you.

And there's an edge to it, isn't there, if love is what keeps you alive? If you need to keep cultivating love even if you're not particularly feeling love yourself, if you have to "force" relationships even when you're kind of fed up with other people? There's a strong incentive to lie for love, to manipulate for love, to get love from other people with the minimum amount of work.

But for love and friendship magic to work, it has to be authentic, you can't have someone fake love you, otherwise the spell just fails. And that's horrifying, right? Worrying that you don't actually love someone enough to save them, watching them die and knowing that it was only because you didn't have the compassion and empathy within you to overcome some mild annoyance with their behavior?

I'm picturing people dependent on love and also constrained by it, and maybe the people at the top really do thrive on managing their public image and cultivating hundreds of close friendships to make sure that nothing can slip through the cracks and murder them. Love-liches motivated by fear of death who have to fight their natural urge to treat every person around them as a resource in their barrier against harm, because people don't love being used by that. A terrible world where everyone counts their friends, where you're judged on how many friends you are, where friend count is a metric that people use to hire you.

It could work! A world where friendship is magic, and the implications of this are taken to their logical extremes, where the protagonist isn't special because his mother loved him and thereby saved his life, this is just a totally routine thing that happens all the time!

Question: What is the greatest magic of all? Answer: Friendship, right? [B]: The greatest magic of all is not friendship, it's chronomancy, the ability to control and warp time. If friendship were the greatest magic, look, it's a pet peeve of mine (...)

DUNGEON MASTER BRENNAN LEE MULLIGAN ANSWERS DnD QUESTIONS (TECH SUPPORT | WIRED)

[seokminfilm]

after party — choi seungcheol

PAIRING 𐂴 choi seungcheol x reader

TAGS & WARNINGS 𐂴 idol seungcheol, model reader (reader mentioned to wear dress and heels) met gala afterparty setting, kissing, boyfriend seungcheol, secret relationship, lots of cute banter, dominant seungcheol *giggles*, touching, pet names (baby), can you tell i'm still stuck on met gala scoups yet

SUMMARY 𐂴 afterparties weren't your thing, but when your boyfriend was the main attraction on the red carpet, how could you refuse him?

LYR'S SIDENOTES 𐂴 new layout to celebrate the upcoming rebranding my account is about to go through!!! ANYWAYS here is that seungcheol fic i promised 👏 met gala coups is gonna be the death of me so of COURSE i have to write about it here 🙂 this is for all the couprangs out there (and the carats who swear they aren't couprangs but act like couprangs) (<<< me) (note: the gifs are by user idobiloveu! literally one of the best hq gifs i seen of met gala scoups so far so thank you 🙏)

NOW PLAYING 𐂴 after party, don toliver

WORD COUNT 𐂴 896 FOR @kstrucknet

the slightly loud music and smell of alcohol in the air continued to remind you why you weren't a fan of afterparties.

they made you feel overwhelmed, and even now, you stood near a back wall, partially zoning in on a conversation your model friend had dragged you into while your eyes continued to drift to the entrance to the massive hall.

choi seungcheol—your boyfriend of six months, still unknown to the public—was on his way to the met gala's afterparty, and would be here any minute now. he had looked so good on the red carpet, tailored suit and sickening confidence causing your mind to wander to not-so-nice places.

seungcheol knew how bad you wanted to put your hands on him, but he had told you to wait until the afterparty, that way he could keep you out of the public eye. he was more conscious of your image than you were, but you found yourself grateful for his guidance, especially when you wanted to tear his clothes off and let the world know you were his (like now).

you begrudgingly agreed, and found yourself here, nearly wanting to slap your friend in the face for talking so much as you waited for your boyfriend's arrival.

"i'm gonna go," you're practically yelling at your friend with how loud everyone is talking, and they don't even acknowledge you, giving you one glance before going back to their conversation.

sighing, you slink away, shuffling in your constricting heels to get closer to the entrance. trying to stuff all of your dress in your arms, you bump into someone's chest, mumbling an apology before the familiar smell of your boyfriend's cologne washes over you.

"watch where you're going, baby," seungcheol chuckles lowly, hands instantly going to your dress to help you gather the tool. he's careful to shield your legs from others, pressing close to you as he smiles. "where to?"

smiling, you tilt your head to a little booth snuggled in the corner of the bustling hall. seungcheol nods, eyes instantly glued to the goal as he leads you carefully to the corner.

you can feel rows of eyes on you, but it feels good, this time around—you love having everyone know that seungcheol is yours. it makes you feel powerful, and you can't explain why.

sliding into the tiny booth with seungcheol's help, you instantly bring your hands to seungcheol's cheeks, bringing him in for a kiss as you accentuate the 'mwah' sound.

"god, you looked so good on that red carpet, cheol," you're mumbling against his lips, and he's cupping your cheeks, chuckling under you before you pull away.

"i was hoping you'd like it. i was thinking of your reaction when getting it tailored," seungcheol does that signature eyebrow raise that drives you crazy, and you can't help but giggle like a schoolgirl, biting your lip as you lean your head on seungcheol's shoulder.

"you're such a devil," you frown, and seungcheol chuckles lowly, cologne nearly sending you into a spiral as he smirks at you.

"a devil, huh? if anything, i'm devilishly handsome." seungcheol's voice is low and rich against your skin as he presses a kiss to your exposed collarbone. seungcheol's lips are warm, cherry tint staining your skin in a testament to his love for you.

you flush, giggling into your hand as seungcheol watches you with love in his eyes, staring at you like you've hung the stars in the sky. "i swear, this outfit is giving you the confidence i've never seen you have."

seungcheol laughs cutely, eyes crinkling at the corners as a dimple appears on his supple cheek. "i mean, the brand is called boss."

"and that is what you are," you smile at your boyfriend, letting your chin rest on your hand as you giggle at seungcheol's devious look. he's smiling from ear to ear, brown eyes sparkling with mirth as he adjusts his suit collar.

he looks perfect, tailored grey suit hugging his body perfectly as his bluish-grey hair falls around his face like a pretty curtain. his dark eyebrows are thick, raised at you with curiosity as he watches you quietly stare his way.

"what? do i have something on my face?" he questions jokingly, and you shake your head, smiling as you place your hand on his firm thigh.

"no, you just have a face. a very handsome face." you lean in, lips brushing seungcheol's ear as he falls silent, body clenching at your voice. his eyes have a shadow to them, and you know he's thinking of all the things he could do to you, simply settling for chuckling lightly and patting your thigh in return.

"you're driving me insane." seungcheol's voice is warm, but there's a tone of seriousness behind it as you chuckle, shrugging. "it's just like you've been doing to me all night, cheol."

"i owe you so much when we get home. you've given me the best night of my life, and i didn't even have to do anything for it." you smile, and seungcheol smiles to himself, leaning into you as he whispers in your ear, low breath tickling your insides.

"i'm going to hold you to that, baby." with the dark, rich tone of his voice, you know seungcheol means business, and who would you be if you didn't do business with him?

[mortal-ethos]

There's obvious value to stories that present deep political and cultural themes through the lenses of dystopian literature, fantasy and science fiction, thrillers and the mystery genre, but one of my favorite ways to view the consequences of societal issues is through interpersonal relationships.

Many of these books do this well, but many also lend themselves to the overarching story or setting doing the heavy lifting which is not a failing, just is. But the romance genre (note different from smut, although smut does offer insight into how sexuality can mirror these consequences also) specifically has the ability to do this through things many people inherently can connect to: the desire for connection, intimate discussion, the vulnerability of close relationships, etc.

Romance can show the way society impacts issues on the personal level, and readers are more likely to be able to identify aspects of themselves or their lives within the story. I haven't read It Ends With Us, nor will I because what I have read and know of Colleen Hoover is nothing I wish to further engage with, but the impact that story had on women in abusive relationships is not to be ignored. Some of her other books romanticize abuse, but that one specifically women could relate to and I've seen stories of many women that sought help leaving their unsafe living conditions and romantic relationships. Many women hold that book close to their hearts, and as a survivor of domestic abuse myself, it is important to me that we don't downplay the importance of the romance genre in how it has historically shown women the injustice they were victims of unknowingly.

And sometimes people just want to read about hot people having hot sex and that's worthwhile too.

A lot of people genuinely do hate or dismiss romance novels because they think all sexual frankness in fiction is immoral and harmful, or because they think women (and only women) are too stupid to know fiction from reality, or because they think it’s gross and laughable for women (especially ones they don’t consider fuckable) to have sexual desires, or because they automatically assume that anything popular with women is inferior, or because they only care about fiction being formulaic or light entertainment when it’s something women like. This doesn’t mean that every romance novel is great and deep and progressive, but these people aren’t coming from a good place with their criticism and they don’t deserve a pass.

[fawniswriting]

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: After a mission filled with close calls and bad decisions, the team comes home to find an even bigger threat waiting at the door—your wrath.

Warning(s): THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS!!! platonic!thunderbolts x reader. no use of y/n. use of the nicknames doll, honey, and pretty girl. canon typical violence. descriptions of injuries. descriptions of explosion, gun use, etc. established relationship. profanities. kissing. VERY suggestive content (minors be advised). talks of having a baby. bucky being a little feral (very briefly). slightly hurt/comfort. basically bucky and reader being the parents of the group.

Word Count: 3.6k-ish

Author's Note: GUYS I saw this fanart on instagram and instantly knew that I had to write something inspired by it!!! I've been itching to post a thunderbolts fic since last week 😭 welcome back 2012-2014 era of avengers' tower fanfics ✨️ anyway I hope they're keeping the revolution hair for bucky in doomsday or else I swear I'm gonna RIOT!!! (I know seb's head is shaved rn but wigs exist yk 😔) don't forget to comment, like, and reblog loveliesss 🩷

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky Barnes doesn't understand a lot of things since he returned to society.

Cryptocurrency is one of them. Social media is another. Anything that involves more acronyms than actual words is an immediate no on his list.

Above all else, Bucky Barnes struggles to comprehend how exactly he became responsible for the group of walking disasters now hailed as earth's newest, mightiest heroes.

Looking at the pack of hellions in front of him, Bucky has serious doubts about that title.

Right in the middle of the tower's lobby, the Thunderbolts—the New Avengers now, apparently—are scattered like barbie dolls in the aftermath of a toddler's tantrum. John is standing against a column with a tight jaw, his left leg lifted gingerly, wrapped in a makeshift splint that looks suspiciously like someone's utility belt. Beside him, Yelena sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of her as she cradles a bruised shoulder with an equally bruised hand. Alexei leans atop the front desk with a dried blood streaking down his temple, the young receptionist gone in fright the moment the team walked through the tower's entrance. Even Ava, usually one to disappear before debriefs, is visible for once, propped against the wall with her suit half-glitched and her expression blank.

Everyone is accounted for. Everyone is breathing. 

But they all look like they rolled down a hill of bad choices where they banged their heads at every rock.

The mission was supposed to be a quiet recon, a simple surveillance on a rumored underground tech sale in an abandoned shipyard, low risk with minimal engagement. But then someone—Bucky still doesn’t know who—decided that they could handle it. 

No heads-up. No plan. 

Just four impulsive thrill-seekers interrupting a high-stakes black market deal involving high-tech plasma rifles and an offended buyer with too many goons. 

By the time Bucky caught wind of what was happening, it was already chaos. He had to go in solo, extract the squad under heavy fire, disrupt the shipment, and reroute an entire response team of hostiles to avoid further catastrophe. They got out—just barely—and none of them seemed particularly eager to look him in the eye about it, especially after the thirty-minute tirade he launched into somewhere between fourth gear and a traffic jam.

From his place in front of the elevator, Bucky crosses his arms. “If any of you pull something like that again, you're all getting benched. Indefinitely.”

“What?!” Alexei roars.

Yelena scowls. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You don't get to make that call, Bucky,” John protests.

Ava nods. “We're not children. You can't just ground us whenever you feel like it.”

“Yeah?” Bucky laughs. Sarcastically. “Watch me, kid.”

As if on cue, the elevator arrives with a ding. Bucky gestures curtly towards the opening metal door. “Inside. Now.”

Reluctantly, the team shuffles in like a group of sheep being herded back into their pen for a much-needed nap time.

For a beat, the only sound that settles inside the cramped space is the low mechanical hum of the elevator ascending. 

That is until Ava decides to speak up.

“I’m just saying,” she begins, “it wasn’t like we meant to crash the deal. We were just improvising.”

“Improvising?” Bucky exclaims, glaring at her. “You call tossing a grenade into an active negotiation improvising?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Yelena argues, crossing her arms. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Bucky screeches, his tone rising. “Walker nearly lost a leg!”

“It's just a sprain,” John clarifies. “Probably.”

“See? It's just a sprain!” Yelena repeats a little too cheerfully. “He'll be good as new in no time. Right, John?”

John nods, failing to conceal his wince when Yelena bumps her unharmed shoulder to his.

Bucky rubs his temples. “I can’t believe I’m in charge of you people.”

The elevator dings again at the top floor.

“You know,” Yelena says as the team stumbles out of the metal trapbox, “we technically stopped the deal. You're not giving us credit for that.”

“That’s because you weren't supposed to stop the deal. You were supposed to observe.”

“Back in my day, observe meant punch first, ask questions later,” Alexei quips.

Bucky lets out a scathing scoff that echoes through the air. “Right. Remind me again how many years you spent rotting in that Siberian prison, Alexei?”

“Well, that's not very nice,” John mutters.

“You know what else isn't nice, Walker?” Bucky growls. “Getting your asses lit up by dozens of machine guns because none of you seem to grasp the basic concept of following orders.”

The group swelters in a momentary silence.

“I mean, in our defense,” says Ava, “none of us actually got shot.”

Before Bucky can tell her off even further, a voice suddenly intercepts, “How fabulous! You guys didn't get shot? Geez, someone really should give you all a medal for that.”

The whole team stops in their tracks.

One by one, everyone turns their head towards the direction from which the voice has come. The view that greets them could probably send a perfectly healthy man straight into an early grave.

On the platform floor a few paces away, they find you standing with arms folded across your chest. Despite the bright tilt of your voice, your eyes are cutting as they assess the entire team with the judgement of a juror who has already decided on a guilty verdict. It's clear from your attire that you were freshly off work before going straight to the tower, and since everyone knows that you were supposed to be on a work trip to Philadelphia for at least another two days, it’s safe to assume that your ticket back was booked right around the time someone shouted “mission compromised!”.

It's a full ten seconds of shared disgrace before Yelena finally breaks the silence.

“You called her?” she hisses, landing an accusatory glare in Bucky’s direction.

“I did not.” Bucky scoffs. “And why does it matter if I did?”

“Bucky didn't call me,” you interject, your posture still rigid, your gaze still icy.

“Then who—no.” Yelena's eyes drift towards the kitchen, squinting as she takes in the figure trying to hide behind the doorway. “Bob.”

Ava snaps her head up. “Bob, you little shi—”

“That’s enough,” you jump in, moving sideways to conceal Bob from Ava's murderous line of sight. “He's got nothing to do with this. This is about you—all of you—and what a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing you just did.”

Under your scrutiny, the whole squad shifts like a pack of raccoons caught rummaging through the kitchen trash. The weight of your stare seems to age them all by a decade.

“I'm gonna give all of you two minutes to explain yourselves,” you declare, the authority in your tone indisputable. “And I already know what happened, so don't even think about trying to trick me.”

There is a lull in the air where everyone seemingly tries to process your demand.

When their mouths open again, what follows is not so much an explanation as it is a verbal dogpile. Everyone starts talking all at once—too loud, too fast, and entirely contradictory. John tries to lead with the logistics, only to be steamrolled by Alexei shouting something about creative liberty. Ava attempts to downplay the situation with a jovial “it was barely an explosion!” while Yelena throws her under the bus with a hasty “she started it!”. 

Bucky—standing to the side with the posture of a man watching his funeral getting turned into a Dollar Store circus—doesn’t even bother stepping in. He knows better. 

You hold up a single finger and the room quiets instantly, like someone pressing mute on a trashy sitcom argument. The stillness that follows is so heavy, even the lights begin to flicker in anticipation.

“But we got out fine!” Ava sputters, desperate to fill in the quietness, though her voice immediately thins when she adds, “Mostly.”

“Yeah! I mean, it's just a bruise here, a bruise there—everything's great.” Yelena grins.

Your sharp stare slides towards John, the lines between your eyebrows tightening as you take in the awkward angle of his injured leg. John nearly cowers under your piercing gaze.

“How bad is the damage?” you question, your voice booming throughout the surrounding space.

“What, this? Oh, it's not that bad. Probably just need to ice it then I'll be good as new—”

“Walker.”

It's hardly a secret that John is perhaps your least favorite person in that room, with you still clearly holding a grudge towards him for what happened with the Flag Smashers. The man is used to your constant cold shoulder by now. He expects it, even. More often than not, John finds himself wondering if you would ever warm up to him the way you have with the rest of the team.

And yet, as he now stands at the end of your long stare, John can't help but think that perhaps your silent treatment isn't really that bad. Especially if it means he doesn't have to be on the receiving end of the critical scrutiny you're currently aiming towards him.

The blond gulps.

“There's a forty percent chance it might be broken,” John admits. “But it's likely just dislocated. No big deal.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Get to the medbay and tell them to run a scan,” you command. “Alexei, go with him.”

“That's not necessa—”

The sharp glare you're sending him causes John's words to lodge in his throat.

Alexei springs right into action, steering John away from your ferocious perusal and back towards the elevator.

“C'mon, big guy,” Alexei bellows. “Let's go pay a visit to our doctor friends.”

As soon as the two men disappear into the elevator, your glower shifts towards the remaining two people standing behind Bucky. Yelena pretends to check her nails while Ava's eyes are roaming the ceiling with faux nonchalance, both a pathetic attempt to avoid the clear daggers in your stare. The ridiculousness would've made you chortle were you not livid beyond salvation right now.

“I want you two to go back to your rooms, clean yourselves up, and be back here in no more than thirty minutes,” you proclaim. “We'll continue our discussion after dinner.”

“Wait, hold on—”

“That's not—”

“Just go, you two,” Bucky interrupts, the blue in his eyes colder than the Arctic ocean. “That wasn't a request.”

The two figures slump in defeat, teetering towards the staircase with the speed of a turtle in a morning rush hour. You hear Yelena grumbling something in Russian under her breath, and you force yourself not to think about what the phrase might mean lest you want your skin to crawl in an even higher degree of vexation.

“Good gracious.” Bucky shakes his head.

Behind you, Bob emerges out of the kitchen, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as he approaches you like a wounded kitten.

“They're mad at me, aren't they?” Bob murmurs. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys fight with each other.”

“It's not your fault, sweetie,” you assure him, extending your hand and offering a comforting squeeze around his palm. “They're just being idiots right now. You did good, okay? Give it a few hours and I promise you, they'll forget about this already.”

Bob nods solemnly, his voice quiet as he excuses himself and trudges towards the common area. You release a breath as you observe him diving head first onto the sofa, burying his face in the cushion like a Victorian widow fainting onto her chaise.

Turning around, your eyes lock with another pair in blue. The smile on Bucky's face grows as he takes you in, his arms opening with all the intention to collect you in his embrace. 

“Hey, doll. I've missed—”

“No. Stay right there.” You raise your palm, taking a step back. “I'm mad at you, too.”

Bucky blinks. 

He watches you turn around and walk away from him, his arms coming down limp by his sides before he scutters after your retreating form. Bucky lingers in the doorway as you move about the kitchen, taking out pots, knives, and pans while slamming the cabinet doors shut in the process. You don't even spare him a glance as you start retrieving fresh ingredients from the fridge.

“Honey?” he calls out, voice meek beneath the echo of your knife slicing through onions on the counter. “C'mon, doll, you're really not gonna talk to me?”

“No.”

The chopping continues.

Bucky rubs his face.

“You know I'm just as disappointed in them as you are, right?” he begins. “Swear to God, doll, I had nothing to do with this. Didn't even know what those rascals were planning ‘till I got the call from Alexei. Told ‘em off as soon as I extracted them outta there.”

“Hm.”

Sighing, Bucky takes a tentative step forward, then another, finally closing the distance when he's sure you wouldn't smack him across the head with the chopping board in your hand. His fingers find purchase around your elbow, halting your movements, the gentleness aching as he spins you around to face him. The knife and half-sliced onion lie dormant on the counter.

“Hey,” Bucky utters, so softly that the air nearly swallows the word whole. “Talk to me?”

You heave in a shaky breath, evading his eyes. “What's there to talk about? I told you I'm pissed.”

“Okay, that part I already got.” Bucky chuckles, brushing the back of his palm on your cheek. “Help me understand why? At least tell me how I can fix it, pretty girl. Hm?”

Your silence quivers at the edges, growing more brittle with each swipe of Bucky’s touch on your skin. The walls around your heart crumble under his infuriating tenderness.

“When Bob called and said the team had gone radio silent, I—” you pause, swallowing hard, “—I thought something terrible happened. I booked the first train out of Philly before I even hung up.”

Bucky stays quiet, watching you with careful eyes.

“I couldn’t reach anyone. Not John, not Yelena, not Ava, not Alexei—not you. And the longer I waited, the worse it got in my head. I pictured the mission going sideways. All of you gone.” You inhale sharply. “I pictured all of you coming home in body bags.”

Bucky's heart breaks at the shudder he feels running through your back. His soul is already mourning over the loss of light he would usually find shining so brightly out of your eyes. It makes him cling to you just a tad bit tighter.

“Bob finally called me again to tell me that you're all fine. That you're on your way back. But that's not the point, Bucky.” You look at him then, your fingers flexing. “The point is, I should've never heard about all of this from Bob in the first place. I should've heard it from you.”

Bucky's shoulders sink. “I didn't want you to worry.”

You shake your head, eyes burning with the threat of unshed tears. “But I do worry, Bucky! That’s the point. I worry every single time. The moment all of you step out of this building, I'm counting down the minutes until you guys return to me again. You can't shield me away from that.”

He steps closer, removing what little bit of distance between the two of you until all of your atoms are nearly merged as one. “You're right. You are. I should’ve called. Should've trusted that you'd want to know, even if it might scare you.”

“It did scare me,” you whisper. “And I didn’t want Bob’s voice telling me everything was okay. I wanted yours.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs, his arms pulling you nearer. “No more leaving you out. I promise it’ll be me from now on. I'll tell you everything, doll. Always.”

A shuddering breath leaves your lungs, and just like that, you completely melt away under Bucky's touch. Your forehead drops against the line between his shoulder and chest, your fingers gripping his sides as though he was the very force keeping you tethered to earth. Meanwhile, Bucky's lips ghost over the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings, the contrasting temperature of his palms appeasing you with random patterns against your back.

“I don't know how this all started,” you confess. “I'm not sure when I began caring this much about those idiots, but I do. The thought of something happening to them—to you—to all of you…”

Bucky's arms tighten around your frame. “I know, honey. I feel the same way.”

“This is not what I had in mind, you know?”

You tilt your head back to stare at his face, your fingers tangling themselves in the soft waves that Bucky has been growing out over the past few weeks. He almost cut them all off several days ago, but after some convincing on your end—which may have included activities that found your fingers buried in the soft tendrils and his face buried somewhere else—you managed to talk him out of it.

Bucky's eyebrows lift. “What do you mean?”

“Well… when you said that you were joining this team, I thought I'd never seen a more dysfunctional group of people in my entire life. I figured it'd be a miracle if all of you last a whole month without someone quitting or accidentally blowing each other up.” You chuckle, your eyes softening. “I didn't think I'd end up pacing the hallway every time you guys went out, worrying like some overworked mother of five.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh, his forehead falling onto your own. “I get it. This wasn’t exactly how I imagined myself stepping into the dad role either, but… here I am.”

“Yeah?” Your lips quirk up. “How did you imagine it then?”

“Well—” Bucky's voice drops, his breath warm where it fans against your skin, “—I figured it’d start with a little house, somewhere quiet. Nothing fancy. Just enough for us to start building a life in. I’d fix the place up real proper. You’d hum to yourself as you whip up one of those famous pies of yours, and I’d pretend not to stare.”

The cheeky grin on Bucky's face grows, prompting a laugh out of your chest. His thumb continues to trace idle circles upon your waist.

“Then, when you feel the time's right, we’d try for a baby. The old-fashioned way. Real slow, real sweet. I’d kiss you like I got all the time in the world, and make love to you like I didn’t.”

Something flutters inside your chest, like stardust stirring in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. The way Bucky is looking at you makes you feel as if you were the first breath of the universe itself.

“That's how I pictured us becoming parents,” Bucky adds, brushing his lips along your jaw. “Not… this. Whatever this is.”

You smile at the graze of his beard on your cheek, angling your head to capture him in a brief kiss. 

“You know what I think this is, Buck?” you ask, teasing your lips against his own. “I think we should view this as a practice run. After all, how hard can it be to parent our own kid if we can do it to a group of five ridiculous, chaotic misfits, right?”

“Doll.” He sighs. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Depends.” You hum, your lips twitching in feigned innocence. “If you think I'm imagining you putting a baby in me… then yeah, you're absolutely right.”

Bucky swallows your cheeky grin with a kiss, grunting against your mouth as he presses you back against the counter. The muffled moans you let out are music to his ears, a lascivious melody that rushes straight towards places he reserves explicitly for you. His hands slip under your blouse, roaming the expanse of skin, drifting lower and lower in search for the one place that could send him straight to heaven and—

“Yelena! Give it back to me!”

“I told you it wasn't me!”

Bucky groans.

The shrill voices resonate all the way down to the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable echoes of footsteps thundering down the staircase. Bucky makes a guttural noise of frustration as his face slumps into the crook of your neck.

“I swear to God, I’m gonna ship them to Asgard one of these days,” he mutters.

You snort, brushing your fingers through his hair and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. 

“Let's put a raincheck on the baby-making, soldier,” you purr, smirking when it spurs on a rumble from Bucky's chest. “Looks like I've got a fight to break up before we have two dead superheroes on our hands.”

He groans again, this time at the loss of your warmth as you slip out of his arms. From the kitchen's doorway, you raise an eyebrow towards the common area, perching your palms on either side of your hips as you take in the havoc ahead.

“What the hell is going on here?” you snarl.

“She stole my snacks!” accuses Ava.

“I don't even like Jammie Dodgers, you lunatic!”

“What a lot of crap. We all know you'd even eat chicken off the ground given the chance, you pig!”

“Fucking asshole—”

“Hey!” you interrupt, your voice sharp as you march towards the two fuming Avengers. “You call each other any more names, then I promise you, you're gonna wish you got shot on that mission today.”

Bucky watches the whole interaction from the kitchen with his arms crossed and a slow grin spreading across his face. He leans against the counter, studying you with the quiet reverence of a man who has found the meaning of home after decades of searching. Even in the midst of this domestic madness, even with the team’s antics grinding on his last nerve, he wouldn't trade a single thing in his life for anything else.

There are still a lot of things in this world that Bucky struggles to understand.

But with you by his side, and his entire team watching his six, he knows that he's got nothing to worry about.

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Someone Precious II

Caleb x Non MC Reader

a/n: seeing all of you guys really like the first part defo made me feel all warm and giggly! so thank you for all of your lovely comments! also i am not well versed in the realm of medicine/hospitals and stuff so please bear with me as i write the scenes dealing with those, i most likely will briefly touch on those and not go into too much detail. also i finally got a desk and a monitor so now i can do all my writing in comfort rather than hunched over on my bed! Also this part doesn't really have much Caleb unless you include reader thinking about him. another side note, this part will be short but i will write more for the other parts, i just needed this one to be on its own focusing on the pregnancy a bit so that in the other parts i can focus on the relationships with MC, Caleb etc.

also i dont think i mentioned this in my previous part but ill make sure to add it to my masterlist description, the setting of this series will be taking place in a world where ever, evols and wanderers do not exist. some aspects of the characters and how they met have been tweaked to fit with the plot, so pls dont come at me if something isnt how you remember it in the game.

Divider creds @/cafekitsune

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is female and is AFAB, pregnancy,

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

series masterlist

taglist: @aneertawrites @eurydiceknowshesloved @angelichiaro @nommingonfood @ynovaes @animegamerfox @melonssoup @iamawkwardandshy @novthirty @rosevelt632 @sleepless-cloudy @justpassingdontworry @sleepykittyenergy @ijustwannabeyourmuse @iiyumii @eolivy @asakiyu

You sat there numb, your thoughts were a broken record.

'I'm pregnant.'

That's all your brain could handle at the moment. MC sat next to you in silence, rubbing a soothing hand on your back,

She knew that right now what you needed was comfort through gestures and not words, so she just waited patiently until you were ready to say something.

No matter what decision you made, she was ready to support you.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours had passed, you still hadn't spoken up but you had moved to lie in your bed.

MC had gone out to get some lunch, which left you alone with your thougthts.

If there was one thing you had come to a conclusion for, it was that you were going to keep the baby.

Call it a motherly instinct, but you didn't have the heart to abandon an innocent soul.

It wasn't long before MC came back, calling you to come to the dining room. She had gotten your favourite takeaway hoping that it would cheer you up a little bit, and it did.

You smiled as you helped her set the table. As you guys were unpacking the food you decided to finally tell her what was going through your head.

"I'm going to keep the baby. I don't want to abandon an innocent soul and I've always wanted a child, it just didn't happen the way I would have hoped."

You said with a sad smile as you placed a hand on your stomach.

You had dreamed of having a family, more specifically with Caleb. In a way you got your wish, but it felt like fate was cruel for granting it the way they did.

You're still young, you don't even know if you'll even be a good mother. But there's one thing for sure, you have the best possible support system you could ever ask for.

MC's smile mirrored your own.

Dinner was spent in silence, it was comfortable. MC didn't push you for a conversation and you were grateful for that.

●・○・●・○・●・

It had been a week since the news, and now you were here standing in front of Akso Hospital.

You were feeling nervous, a part of you felt like you would be judged for the reason of your visit, but you knew that was just the anxiety talking.

Taking a deep breath you walked in, it was now or never.

The nurse at the reception desk was sweet, her tone and gaze held no judgement as she guided me to the examination room.

You got settled and just laid there staring at the ceiling, you tried to keep your thoughts positive and light, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Caleb.

What it would be like to have him here with you. Would he reassure you? Would he be as nervous as you are?

All these 'what ifs' that'll never become a reality. You could only hope that you could be enough for your child.

●・○・●・○・●・

Your appointment confirmed exactly what those pregnancy tests said, you were six weeks pregnant.

You knew Caleb was the father. He was your first, and honestly your last.

At this moment in time your heart didn't have the ability to love another. He was everything you wanted in a man.

Maybe I should re-evaluate what a man is.

You thought bitterly, but you chided yourself just as quickly as that thought came.

You didn't want to think of him that way or think negatively at all, not wanting those feelings to affect your health and bring any complications for your child.

"It's ok my baby, mommy and Aunty MC will make sure you never feel insecure about not having a father."

Your words were not only to comfort your child, but also to comfort yourself.

●・○・●・○・●・

6 weeks later

You were back at Akso Hospital again, this time it was for a follow up appointment.

MC had taken time off work to come with you this time, saying how it's part of her aunty duties.

It was cute, and it never failed to put a smile on your face when she would talk excitedly about all the things she would do with her future niece or nephew.

You had assumed this check up would be the same as the first one, just a normal procedure to make sure that the baby and mum are doing ok.

Boy were you in for a treat.

As your doctor moved the wand around your growing belly you noticed something on the screen that you didn't see last time.

"Congratulations! It seems you'll be having twins."

MC let out the loudest squeal known to man at the news, you could practically feel her excitement radiating off of her.

You matched her energy with a smile on your face.

I guess my little family just grew by one.

You thought to yourself.

"Would you guys like to know the gender or do you want to keep it a surprise?"

Your doctor asked. You personally wanted to keep it as a surprise because you could already see the gears turning in MC's head.

You knew exactly what she was planning and in all honesty, you wanted to let her have her way.

She was your rock and sole supporter through all of this, you would feel bad if you didn't let her do what she wanted.

"I'd like for it to be kept a secret but by all means let her know, I can tell she's dying of curiosity."

You let out a soft laugh, your doctor cleaned up the gel and helped you up.

MC gave you a big hug before you made your way outside.

It didn't take long before MC came skipping out the room, her smile was so bright you thought you might go blind.

That night MC treated you to dinner and insane amount of sweets, which totally satiated the cravings you were having.

●・○・●・○・●・

6 months later

You were in your final trimester, it was a relatively easy going pregnancy, if you ignore the fact that you feel like a walking balloon.

Most of your days were spent in bed as the weight of your stomach made it hard to move around too much.

It was times like these that it made you think of Caleb. Even though you had promised yourself that you wouldn't, but at the end of the day you were still madly in love with a man who ghosted you after your first time.

Crazy isn't it? Your heart was a fool in love while your brain tried to be the rational one, but every now and then you would give in to the thoughts of what would have happened if he didn't run off.

Would he be here helping you through all of this? If he were to come back, how would you confront him?

You could only pray that he didn't show up in front of you any time soon, because the moment he did you would give him a beating of a lifetime.

Your due date was somewhat nearby but not close enough yet. You had your hospital bag packed and a baby carrier all ready to go right by the door. That way you and MC wouldn't be scrambling around last minute trying to find everything.

You were feeling nervous, you didn't know what the delivery would be like and you worried for your babies, wondering if you could make up for the lack of father figure they would have in their life.

You had taken a look at the time and had noticed it was quite late and MC had yet to come back from work. Just as you were about to give her a call, you heard the sound of the door being unlocked.

MC walked in holding a multitude of things, the most obvious one being balloons that read Boy or Girl?

"Surprise!"

MC exclaims, you don't know if it was just you or the hormones but you started bawling. The love that you felt was immense, no words could explain it.

You waddled over to MC to help her but she waved you off and told you to take a seat on the couch as she set things up.

You waddled back to the couch and settled in to the cushions as MC worked quick with her set up.

As soon as she was done she set up her phone so that it would capture the background and us.

"We're gonna do this trend I saw on social media, so just follow my lead."

MC gave a brief explanation and you nodded in understanding.

"Hi I'm your Aunt MC and I think you guys are gonna be two beautiful baby girls."

You giggled, you knew that she already knew the genders but thought it was cute that she wanted to at least pretend that she didn't know.

"Hi my babies, I'm your mommy and I think you guys will be beautiful boy and girl."

You always wanted a daughter and a son, but you also would be happy with either gender as long as they were healthy.

"Okay, now we're gonna do the gender reveal. Take this glass and close your eyes, on the count of three we'll push it into the cakes and see what the genders are."

MC pushed one cake towards you and placed the other one in front of her.

Following her instructions, you placed the glass over the cake and closed your eyes.

"One, two, three!"

You brought the glass down and prayed you actually got some cake in there and not just frosting.

"Ok open your eyes!"

You could hear the smile in her voice.

You opened your eyes and looked at your glass and then MC's, they were both blue.

You pulled MC into a hug, you don't know if it was the hormones or the situation but you started crying, they were happy tears.

You felt so happy that you had such an amazing friend by your side, you didn't even wanna think what life would've been like if she wasn't in it.

In the midst of all the emotions and excitement you didn't notice the seat under you getting wet until you started to feel like you may have peed your pants.

You pulled back from MC and said,

"I think my water just broke."

[whimsiwitchy]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 (part one)

Pedro Pascal x singer!reader

series masterlist & series playlist

summary: you're a hot singer that has hot older men falling at her feet. pedro becomes one of them. (literally my cyg hughxreader fic but for pedro)

warnings: age gap (23/49), use of y/n, swearing, sexual themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, verbal fighting, pedro is a smoker, cheating, Hugh Jackman is your ex (oops), he also pops up a few times and is mentioned, grammar is fake to me srry <3

warnings may change as the story progresses. all descriptions of real people in this story are fake! I don't know these people and this all for funsies. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: hi everyone! this creation has been sitting in my head for awhile but @moonangxl is the reason it's being done lmao. anywaysss this is a little rough since I'm literally copying my hugh story and switching it to Pedro. It's basically the same but little details have changed. If you enjoyed that one, I hope you enjoy this one! If you're new here, welcome!! I hope you stick around. That's all the yapping I'll do...enjoy! oh wait...ummm so kinda annoying but music is a big part of this series and there is a song mentioned in here that you can listen to for context (playlist linked above!). okie okie fr this time byeee and enjoy!! <333

part one: late nights and heartbreak 

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in northern Louisiana. With a population of less than 15,000 people, growing up was pretty boring. You had dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the south. Once you graduated highschool, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. You started to gain a few more followers on social media here and there, it was exciting.You released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on tiktok, bombarding you with a new hoard of followers.

Two years after graduation, you decided to move to Los Angeles, after finally saving enough money. The agency that picked you up was ecstatic about the move. Being in L.A meant more opportunities to move your career forward. After a few months, all the chaos became too much for you to handle on your own and you ended up hiring an assistant, Stacy, who became your best friend somewhere along the way. Fastwording to four years after graduation, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist since you set foot in L.A. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate towards their craft, always being involved in the creative process. It was bliss. 

Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation: 

the controversial young girlfriend.

Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men happened to be your type. They were so much more put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Hugh it was different. You wanted to be with him so badly but you held yourself back. You were terrible towards him and the relationship went south fast. 

—

“I wish they would have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and your agency thought it would be a great idea to perform an unreleased song from your upcoming album alongside the mandatory cover song. When the opportunity was first presented to you, it had only been a month after your breakup with Hugh. You had been ecstatic to perform the song that you wrote based on your relationship, to release all of the feelings attached to him. Now that the day has come, you feel like an idiot for even writing it. You were mostly over Hugh now and it was almost embarrassing to showcase this song today. 

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that the relationship between the two of you was in fact over.

“You’re right.” You admit quietly as you slouch into the chair.

“I always am. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She gloats while handing you the humidifier. 

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do. 

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out abruptly, glancing over at Stacy. 

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “You know I have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 

She hums. “I give it a week before you fold.” 

—

After a quick sound check for your mic and band, you perform your cover song. You chose a more upbeat song to cover, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that was way more expensive than any equipment you owned. To the left of the booth, the cameras were positioned towards the ‘stage’ with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences compared to large spaces full of fans that showed up for you. 

The cover went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and someone walk in. You weren’t wearing your contacts, given that it was a short day, and you refuse to ever wear your glasses on camera. You squinted, trying to make the blurred blob come into focus. 

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks just as your eyes start to hurt from the strain. Your nosiness would have to wait. There’s a sharp sound of the clapboard and your drummer gives three short taps of his drumsticks to cue you in. 

why do I find it so hard to love you

when I know in my heart that I want to?

“I love you sweetheart.” Hugh whispered in your ear as you laid against his chest. You’d been spending the night in his apartment in New York when he said it. A few minutes prior, the two of you were laughing about something stupid but now you were frozen, pretending to sleep. You’re not sure how convincing it was considering your entire body went rigid at his words. You couldn’t say it back. You weren’t even sure you felt the same. It would make sense to say it. You’ve known Hugh for a year now and have been dating for five months, the first seven months containing a lot of flirting and uncertainty. You cared for him deeply and wanted to be with him, but what you felt wasn’t love.

After that night, he continued to tell you and you continued to ignore it. 

I’ve heard that all of the girls are starting to hate me

For stealing your heart and treating you badly 

This was the moment that halted any feelings you had for Hugh. You started talking fairly quickly after his divorce was announced and it turns out you weren’t the only one getting that attention. While you and Hugh were very public with your relationship, rumors started to spread about a possible romance he had with a previous costar. A week before the breakup, she messaged you with proof that Hugh and her had been intimate. He told her about all of the problems the two of you were going through and she harassed you for days, saying that you didn’t deserve a man like Hugh. 

I’m never gonna treat you like I should

I’m a part time lover 

As much as you wanted to put all the blame on Hugh, you can’t. You were at fault too when it came to the relationship not lasting, he simply made it easier to end things. In your talking stage, you still went out with other people, you were seen with other people. You openly flirted with guys during events you attended or with the occasional athlete in your direct messages during the early stages of being official with Hugh. You both weren’t 100% loyal. Thinking back, you weren’t sure why you did it. You were never one to cheat physically or mentally, but things with Hugh just never seemed to be serious enough to care, even with him being labeled as your boyfriend. 

—

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song that required a lot of emotion to support your voice. A few tears slipped here and there, each line of the song reminding you of the memories that inspired them. A loud applause fills the room, some whistles are thrown around. You mouth quick ‘thank yous’ across the room and give a small bow. As the energy dies down, the crew begin to tidy up the room, the band packs up their equipment and instruments. You reach down to grab your water bottle when you see Stacy rushing towards you. 

“You did absolutely amazing…” She reaches to move a few strands of hair out of your face and wipes gently under your eye. “... but I need you to prepare yourself because a very hot and very famous dude is about to walk through that door.” Her voice is a poor whisper-yell. 

“Stacy what the fuck are you talking abou-” 

“God damn girl. You’re talented as fuck.” A booming wheezing laugh abrupts before you can finish. It’s a voice and laugh you know. A man you’ve met before and a man you thought was fine as fuck. 

“Hey Pedro! How have you been?” You lean in for a short hug, out of politeness…definitely not because you wanted to see if he was still wearing the cologne that clouded your mind the first time you met him. 

“I’ve been good! Super busy. Feel like I’m in a new city every night.” He lets out a slight chuckle. “How’ve you been? How are things with the old man?” The smile that you are wearing falters. 

“I’ve been good. Got a new album coming out and everything.” You do an awkward “woohoo” at the end while waving your arms around lazily. “But uh..things aren’t too good with ‘the old man’. We uh…we broke up.” His face tenses at that. 

“Y/n I’m so sorry.” He rests his hand on your shoulder for a split second. “I feel so dumb, the song makes a lot more sense now.” He trails off as he brings the same hand up towards his face, itching the right side of his beard. 

“Eh, it’s whatever. Probably for the best honestly.” You shrug and he hums. There's a brief silence. 

“Well, his loss yea?” He jokes, trying to cheer you up. 

“Yea…” You take a moment to really look at him. He looks older than the last time you saw him, a few grey hairs creeping in. He also felt taller somehow and his biceps have definitely grown in size. He was outrageously handsome. You awkwardly look away before you’re caught admiring his ridiculously hot face. Before either of you can speak again, a crew member is walking over, asking for a picture of the two of you for their socials. Pedro’s hand rested respectfully on the small of your back. You glance up at him from the quick shock of his touch. He’s already beaming at the camera with his picture perfect smile. You hear the camera go off a few times and you quickly focus on the camera, giving your best, genuine smile. Once the crew member is satisfied, he thanks the both of you and leaves. 

You turn to Pedro, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Hey. I never asked…Why are you here?” He makes a face of shock and you realize the rudeness of your question. “Wait no, I’m not trying to be mean just um…” He’s smiling that gorgeous smile at you as you try your best to explain yourself, stumbling over your words. “...I just mean, what are you doing at BBC?” He laughs and you slip out a barely audible ‘sorry’ as you look down so he can’t catch the hint of red that's bound to be bright on your cheeks. 

“No need to apologize. I know what you meant but it was pretty fun watching you get so flustered.” You don’t lift your head up, still needing a few seconds to cool down. “I was doing a radio interview a few floors up when I heard you were here. Thought I’d stop by to say hello since it’s been awhile since I last saw you.” 

“I’m glad you did come by. It was really nice seeing you again.” You finally life your head up. 

“It was nice seeing you again too darlin’. Real nice”

—

Later that night, you were scrolling through your phone when a text from Stacy popped up. 

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You didn’t even last a few hours. ;)

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification from instagram stating that ‘pascalispunk’ started following you. You closed the messages, rushing to open your following tab in instagram to search for his name. You scrolled through his pictures for a while before following him back. 

While you had access to your own social media, Stacy handled all of the business aspects of your accounts. You clicked on your own page and noticed that the picture that you took with Pedro earlier in the day was crossposted with the BBC instagram account. You took a look through the comments to see what everyone had to say but only one of them mattered. 

pascalispunk: You killed it superstar 🤘🏼❤️‍🔥

thank you for reading! feel free to leave feedback in a comment, private message, or in my ask box!

🏷️ : @moonangxl @brittmb115 @starsmoonn @mmkkzz @angellreads @daydreamzsworld @goldfish-987 @peacefangirl @leclerc13 @llsister @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @needz1nk @olympe-lottie @mielsonrisa @sexyvixen7 @thezoddfather @joelmillerpascal @mega-kittyglitter-1 @bluetimeombre @stvrl1ghtt123

*pls comment on masterlist comment section to be added to taglist. comments on this post will not be added!*

[mia-maybank]

I Have A Feeling You Got Everything You Wanted: Part 2 - George Clarke

George Clarke x Fem!reader ( 2.2k words)

The sidemen charity match , a gorgeous ex-boyfriend with a mullet and his entire friendgroup scattered around the stands to avoid ... what could ever go wrong?

warnings: angst (they will get their happiness eventually I promise), hints of poor mental health but it's not a heavy focus, arguing.

series | masterlist

Thank you guys so much for the love on the first part! I hope you enjoy this part just as much <3 (also why is trying to write a breakup where both people come out of it looking like a good person so hard help)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time feels like it stands still as I shrink under the gaze of the very people I had been intending to avoid at all costs today. I felt like a deer in headlights, a child caught in the act of doing something I wasn't meant to, although I had technically done absolutely nothing wrong, except miss my ex-boyfriend.

The awkward silence stretches on, until Chris, seeming to realise that nobody is eager to be the one to break the silence, clears his throat and turns to look at the crowd of boys behind him.

"Uh, are you guys okay to give us 2 minutes?" he asks, and my stomach drops with a mix of relief at the thought of not being under the scrutinous gaze of all 6 guys any longer, but also dread at the thought of watching George walk away. Again.

2 Months Ago

I sit on the edge of my shared bed with George, picking at my fingers nervously whilst he paces the length of the bedroom, hands intertwined in the ends of his mullet. Usually, when my anxiety heightens and my tendency to pick my fingers raw and red takes over, George is straight over to cradle my hands and soothe my nerves with soft kisses to my knuckles and gentle whispers. Now, however, he can barely look at me, eyes darting around the room restlessly, never landing on one place for too long.

"I just don't like what's happened to us lately" I continue on with the half-conversation-half-argument that has seemed to go around in circles for the last hour, with neither one of us willing to back down, both too stubborn and passionate. It funny, the way the world works; the two traits that once brought us together in the beginning, when times were simpler and we could still dance around the pressures that life threatened to impose, are now the very qualities that may destroy our relationship entirely.

"We've been fine" George argues, sighing from across the room like he's tired of this argument. Usually, he would always hear me out and respect my opinion with the utmost tenderness and follow up with action to prove that he listened to me, however the strain that has loomed over our relationship for the last 2 weeks has taken a toll upon him just as much as it has me. "I've just been busier because I've had shoots with the sidemen - you know I would never avoid you on purpose."

"I know you haven't meant to George, but you have to understand how shit it feels to be pushed to the side suddenly because of work opportunities!" My voice rises now, frustration taking over the rational side of my brain as I felt like I wasn't being heard - something I wasn't used to with George, who was usually so attentive.

"Well maybe you need to understand how shit it feels to be trying to balance constant work commitments, friends, family and a girlfriend when everybody expects you to be perfect!" he snaps back, his face dropping when I flinch back. He tentatively takes a step towards me, and when I don't flinch again, he kneels in front of the bed, grasping my hands in his own and gazing up at me with a look so tender that my heart nearly wrenches straight out of my chest.

"Look, I think we’re trying to love each other in ways the other person doesn’t need.” his voice is tender, so tender that it almost doesn't match the cruel words he had previously uttered. "I think maybe we just need a break."

My heart drops at the dreaded words, tears springing to my eyes. But then I look at George's tear-stained, earnest face and know in that instant that I will do anything for this man, even if it involves ripping my heart straight out of my chest over and over.

"Okay" I whisper, my voice cracking. "We'll take a break." He knocks his forehead gently against mine and I close my eyes, savouring his warmth against mine. I don't open my eyes when he kisses my forehead, slow and lingering, like he doesn't want to let go, and finally look up just in time to see him leave.

A day passes. I mope in bed. Then comes a week. I finally give up hope of any of our friend group reaching out to me. Then a month. I decide to leave the house for the first time since the breakup but can't find the motivation to make it out of the door. Then two months. And I give up completely.

One by one, the guys take Chris' not so subtle hint and leave. Simon looks between the two of us with poorly-concealed curiosity before turning away, patting George on the shoulder reassuringly as he leaves. Ethan and Max follow quickly, muttering between themselves, whilst Tobi offers me a reassuring smile and Harry a small nod before they continue up the stairs.

George doesn't move.

He finally unfreezes, relaxing his posture and turning towards Chris, his facial expression still irritatingly unreadable.

"Are you okay to give us a minute, mate?" he asks Chris, his voice taking on that gentle tone again that takes me back to the last time we spoke. Chris nods, stepping towards George and whispering something into his ear that makes his face crumple in concern before Chris turns back to me. "We will catch up later properly, alright?" the hopeful tone of his voice chips at the cage I've built around my heart the last two months and I nod, watching him break out in a relieved grin before he heads in the direction of what I guess is the changing rooms.

The silence lingers for a moment , both of us unable to stray our eyes away from each other or form a coherent sentence.

"Hi" I finally settle on. Hi? You've fantasised about this moment for the past 2 months and the best you can come up with is hi? I mentally scold myself, but to my relief his face breaks out into a soft, almost fond smile. God, I've missed that smile so fucking much.

"Hi" he echoes, and I melt inside as the sound of his voice greets my ears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you on your big day" I apologise, suddenly self-conscious of how psychopathic sneaking around a football match that my ex-boyfriend is playing in seems. "I was planning on just coming to watch quietly and then slipping out without causing a scene, I guess that didn't really go to plan though".

He laughs softly, the sound a soothing melody to my lingering anxieties. "Yeah, you never were the plan maker for good reason". The past tense hurts more than I care to admit, but I force myself to brush it off as he continues to speak. "I'm sorry that you felt like you had to hide from everyone though, we all would have been really happy to see you."

He lets that statement settle for a moment, sitting on a step before patting the spot next to him. I sit down, close enough that our knees knock, and when he doesn't pull away I feel like a teenager with a crush on the boy sat net to her in class. He keeps his gaze steadily trained on mine, continuing with a much more raw, vulnerable edge to his voice now. "We all really miss you, y'know. I miss you".

I can't help the flame of anger that sparks in my chest at the clearly false sentiment, because if they missed me, why did nobody call?

"But...but you didn't call me George" I can't disguise the plain sadness that fills my tone, avoiding his eyes. "Two months and not one person called or text me ... not once."

When I finally dare to look up, I'm surprised to see tears in his eyes and a flare of panic jolts through my chest at the thought that I might of upset him. I apologise quickly, but he shakes his head softly, his expression only saddening further.

"Don't you dare apologise" he finally utters, causing me to blink in surprise. "Chris told me about how you haven't left your flat since the breakup".

The concern and tears in his eyes suddenly make sense. "That snitching bastard, so that's what he whispered to you" I groan in exasperation and embarrassment, hiding my face in my hands.

He giggles gently, tugging my hands slowly from my face, the sudden contact sending shockwaves of electricity through my body, before much to my disappointment he drops my hands and a serious expression takes over his face once more.

"I'm so, so sorry that you felt isolated like that. Everybody presumed you wanted to be left alone and had moved on with different friends and a new life, but that was a fucking stupid assumption to make and we should have known better and reached out. I hate the thought of you all alone this entire time."

I don't know quite when it happened, but one minute I'm staring at him wordlessly as I process his words and the next I'm violently sobbing. He only hesitates for a fraction of a second before pulling me in, shielding me in his toned arms as I weep into his shoulder and dampen his shirt.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry" he keeps murmuring, and it's not until my sobs subside slightly 15 minutes later that I feel the dampness on the top of my head and realise that he is crying to.

Pulling back just enough to be able to see his expression and wipe the tears gently from his cheeks, I take shuddering breaths and he continues to hold me soothingly, one hand rubbing my back whilst his other thumb draws circles on my waist.

"I missed you" I finally feel brave enough to whisper into the air between us and he instantly pulls me back into a tight embrace.

"That argument two months ago" he murmurs into my hair, rocking us soothingly back and forth. "I've regretted every word I said every single day since. Every. Single. One."

I sniffle into his chest, nodding in agreement. "Me too."

"I wanted to reach out so badly" he admits, continuing to rock me slowly. "I thought you were better off without me, so I didn't. But I know I fucked up now. I carried on with living and filming with our friends like you hadn't just vanished off the face of the earth since our argument and that was so, so fucked up of me to do" his breath hitches and we slowly pull away from each other, assuming our much less intimate positions sat side by side on the steps.

I already missed his warmth, so I knocked my leg against his own, relieved when he pressed his skin against mine like he needed the contact just as much as I did.

"I did miss being a part of everything" I admit into the quietness of the corridor. "My youtube career, my friendship, me and you ... it all felt like it fell apart that day." I can barely stand to look at him, for the amount of guilt and pain his expression holds is almost unbearable.

"I'd like to prove to you again that you still have all that" he mutters almost shyly.

"Huh?" I furrow my brows, not understanding his statement.

"Your channel. Your friends. Me.. we are all still here if you want us." he lets out softly. "I know I sure as hell don't deserve your forgiveness but-".

"George" I interrupt softly before he can fall too far into his self-internalising guilt-fuelled spiral. "I messed up too. I could've reached out and I didn't."

His brow furrows. "Still not your fault" he counters, so familiarly stubborn that I almost giggle giddily despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Want to come say hi to everyone?" he asks almost sheepishly. "I know they all want to see you.. and we are going for drinks after.. only if you want to come, no pressure of course" he tacks on quickly at the end.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make it awkward or weird" I hesitate, doubt clawing at my insides.

"You won't, I promise" he sticks his pinkie out and I smile fondly at his childishness, linking my pinkie with his and allowing him to pull me up towards the lions den.

Well, here goes nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3 will be out in the next few days wehehe ... also I feel like I suck at writing dialogue so I do apologise

Tags:

@the-internets-girlfriend @madforgeorge @happyclifford @sidemenslver @heyitsmefall @bbygrlllllll @mothersversiononly @dopeysunflowers @kwonhoeshi @ooostarwarsfandom501st @liz140569 @artvscvntymullet @livvymd

Also everybody who asked to be on my tag list in the comments of part 1 is it just for this series or for any george fics/ ukyt fics in general? Just so I know what to tag you guys in :)

[lilhughesy]

Everywhere Inside My Head | Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

part one. part two. (her perspective)

warnings! mentions of break up and angst!, and I think that's it! word count: 3.5k

summary: the first week post-breakup is said to be the hardest, which isn't wrong when you've been dating the same hockey player since the start of college. you try to find yourself again and how to live a life without him in then picture — but it feels nearly impossible when he's everywhere inside your head.

req: omg please i need a happy ending // Oooof chefs kiss👩‍🍳🤌✨ I can just see reader living her best life and luke seeing her having fun from a distance before groveling and pleading for her back a/n: hi guys! sorry for the wait but here it part three to look at you now and I remember everything! I hope you guys like it!! I lowkey hit a major writers block during it, it's not my best work... lmk if you want one from his perspective! mwah ily all sm 🩷

You laid on your childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling for hours. You weren’t listening to anything, nor were really thinking of much. You were just existing in that moment. You reflected on everything and how much your life had changed in the past week.

It was difficult for you to pack your life in New Jersey into a few suitcases and move back to your hometown in Michigan. All you thought about was him and how your entire life was surrounded by him. He was like the sun and you were one of the planets that revolved around him.

He was your yesterday, today, and your tomorrow.

But now he’s nothing at all.

You knew deep down that you made the right choice, even though it felt so wrong. You knew you deserved more than the crumbs he gave you. You deserved more than eating alone at dinner with his made plate staring at you. You deserved more than staying up late at night wondering if he was coming home or staying at Jack’s, at Nico’s, or at Jesper’s place.

You had grown used to falling asleep alone before leaving him, even though it wasn’t the most comfortable or pleasant feeling. But it felt wrong to go to bed without curling up with his pillow, or to hold his hoodie that smelt so strongly of him close to your chest, or to go to the store and not pick out the ingredients for his favourite meal.

It felt wrong to only make one cup of coffee instead of two.

People always say the first week is the hardest, and they weren’t kidding. You found yourself crying at the smallest things and very frequently. When a song would play on the radio or if you saw the devils post about him — tears would blur your vision. Your parents tried their best to keep your mind off of it but it was difficult when everything in Michigan reminded you of him. It was difficult to get out of bed or to eat or fall asleep, everything seemed to move so slowly or maybe it moved too fast and you couldn’t quite keep up.

You slowly got out of bed and moved to get ready for the day. You had reached out to Ethan and Mark, your closest friends from college, to see if they wanted to spend the day with you.

Ethan and Mark were originally friends with him but inevitably became close friends with you in the process of your relationship forming. They kept your spirits high while you were doing long distance with your boyfriend and provided a great support system for you.

When you pulled out an old UMich hockey t-shirt from your dresser, you remembered vividly the day that the two of you had a flour fight in the kitchen while attempting to bake cookies.

“I hope you know that Ellen never let me in the kitchen to bake.” He chuckled behind you as you pulled out the ingredients from the cupboards. His arms were wrapped around your waist as his face was tucked into the crook of your neck.

You giggled, “I promise you that you can bake. Plus I’m right here anyways!”

"You're going to distract me by having my last name on the back of your shirt y'know," He mumbled against the skin of your neck, his curls tickling you.

"You act like I don't regularly wear your clothes." You teased him, leaned down to kiss his temple. You could feel the smile that grew on his face from your words.

"Okay, little miss baker, tell me where to start," He said to you before finally pulling away. You guided him through the different measurements and ingredients to add to the bowl. His country playlist hummed quietly in the background as the kitchen was filled with your lively conversations and the common laugh here and there.

It was all tame until it came to mixing the ingredients, "Luke!" You gasped as flour went flying out the edge of the bowl, "You're spilling it!"

"It's not my fault that I'm just that strong, have you seen my biceps?" He joked as you tried to scoop the flour into your hands. Your hands were covered in white when a mischievous smile drew across your lips,

"You mean these big biceps?" You smirked while planting a large handprint on the sleeve of his black crewneck. HIs jaw dropped at the sight of your hands on his clothes,

"You did not!" He cried out dramatically, releasing the wooden spoon that he held, "Oh you just started something that you're going to lose."

Your eyes widened while he grabbed a small fistful of flour directly from the bag and tossed it at the front of your (his) navy t-shirt. The cloud of white caused you to cough a bit before bursting into a fit of laughter. Yeah, so much for a peaceful cute afternoon of baking cookies with your boyfriend.

The memory that played in your head caused a flood of tears to flow from your eyes. It left you crumbled on your bedroom floor with the same shirt clutched to your chest as sobs shook your body. You didn’t even hear the two boys come into your room.

Ethan held you close as he let the tears run their course, while Mark had quietly cleaned up your room — knowing that you were never a fan of a messy space. He sorted your clothes into their designated drawers and tossed garbage into the trash before returning back to you.

“Oh you poor thing,” Ethan mumbled into your hair as you tried to regulate your breathing, “It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m trying so hard to not think of him,” You choked out as you wipe away the tears, “But everything reminds me of him.”

“You don’t need him,” Mark said to you, sitting down at the foot of your bed, “He’s been hurting you and he doesn’t deserve all these tears.”

Ethan nodded along to Mark’s words, “Exactly, plus you’re hot and sexy so like you can pull any other guy in the world.”

You let out a weak laugh through your sniffles, “I can’t even imagine dating someone who’s not Luke.”

“Have you spoke to him since you left?” Ethan asked, his arms resting to his sides. You shook your head,

“I told him not to reach out to me and he hasn’t said a thing since.”

“Good for Hughesy,” Mark mumbled, “I’m surprised that he actually listened.”

“You deserve so much more, you know that right?” Ethan said to you, while wearing a sad smile on his usual happy face.

You wiped a rogue tear from your cheek, “I know. That’s why I left in the first place, I couldn’t keep doing what we were doing.”

“You’re so strong,” Mark told you, rubbing slow circles on your back with his hand, “We’re both really proud of you. We love Lukey, he was our teammate but we also love you too.”

“Thanks guys,” You replied, finally calming down. Mark gave you a hand up from the bed before the two of them guided you out of your house for the first time in a while. You got into Ethan's car, you in the passenger seat while Mark took the back seat. Ethan started driving to who knows where while you just rolled down the window.

You leaned your head towards the window and enjoyed the feeling of the wind blowing through your hair. The sun was warm on your skin, your body most definitely soaking up every bit of the sunlight. Music played from the stereo but you didn't pay much attention to the lyrics, only reflecting on the thoughts that played in your head.

It was a strange feeling from having a constant in your life for the past four-ish years in the shape of your boyfriend to not having him at all. It would be a lie if you said that you didn't miss him because in reality, every fibre of your being did.

You told yourself every hour of each day that you deserved more than what he gave you, but you missed him. The version of him that you fell so deeply in love with all those years ago. His soft eyes that were adorned with love and his cute crooked smile that fill your body with butterflies. All of the sweet words he would say to you when you were having a rough day, and how safe his arms felt.

It is never easy to date a professional athlete, but boy was it ever so easy to love one.

"You okay?" Mark asked quietly as Ethan parked the car, his voice pulled you out of your trance.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You offered the two boys a smile, "Just thinking, that's all."

Ethan's hand brushed over your upper arm, "C'mon, let's get some ice cream. It's the solution to everything."

You followed the two hockey players into the ice cream parlour, each of you choosing a flavour before paying. Ethan paid for yours after claiming that it was the least he could do after what his idiotic best friend did to you. The three of you sat outside on the bench, laughing at whatever story Mark was explaining to you.

The boys were right, ice cream does seem to solve every problem. The cold sugary sweetness of the dessert dancing in your mouth as you grinned at your friends in front of you seemed to bring the happier side of you out.

And just for a moment, it did feel like everything is finally okay. That everything does happen for a reason and the end of the emotionally tolling relationship, you would be okay. Until your phone vibrated.

Luke: Hey, do you have time to talk?

Luke: I know that I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but please this is important.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, and you assumed the smile on your face dropped too as you read the notification.

"Everything okay?" Ethan asked cautiously, his eyes bouncing between you and your phone that you were intensely staring at.

You swallowed hard, "He just texted me."

Mark's lips tightened into a thin line, "I guess I spoke too soon... Are you going to reply?"

"I don't know," You mumbled, rereading his texts again, "Should I?"

"It's up to you honestly," Ethan responded, glancing over your shoulder to see what the devils player sent to you, "Do you want to hear what he has to say?"

"Sort of... But I think it's because I feel bad for just leaving him without saying anything."

"But you did say something to him!" Mark commented, "You told him how you felt and how you saw things, he should've changed his behaviour right after you spoke to him. Not after you finally left."

"He's not wrong," Ethan hummed, agreeing with Mark, "He's probably going to say something like... I'm so sorry, I miss you so much baby, I love you, and I promise I'm going to change or at least some sort of bullshit like that."

You frowned, knowing that they had good points. You decided that you would make your decision later and opted to head back to your home with Ethan and Mark. You were enjoying your time with your friends and you refused to let him ruin that for you.

Besides, did you actually want to hear from him? Is he going to ask you to get back together with him? Is he going to tell you that he's going to change and promise to not treat you like that again?

More importantly, what are you going to say? Would you take him back? Would you fall for his empty promise about changing yet again?

All these thoughts danced in your head as you laid in bed that night. You had yet to respond to his two text messages. You knew in your gut that you physically could not handle the feeling of being a second or third choice to him. Not again. You knew that you deserved to be loved and cherished so loudly and proudly, which he failed to do on multiple occasions.

But him talking to you was important to him, and it was going to mean something to him. So you replied,

You: does a phone call work with you?

His response was immediate.

Luke: Yeah, if that's what you want. Is now okay?

You looked at the top right corner of your phone screen, seeing that it was 8:13PM. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating if you were ready to hear his voice again. But if you didn't do it now, it would probably keep you awake all night.

You: ya, now is fine

In seconds, your screen lit up with his contact photo that made your stomach twist. You had yet to change it and it was one of your favourite photos of you two together. You pressed the pick-up button to his call, taking a sharp inhale as you did so.

"Hey," You heard his voice and suddenly the walls that you had built up seemed to crumble a bit. His voice was shaky and you could tell from his tone that he hadn't been sleeping. He sounded exhausted.

Your hands trembled slightly as they held the phone to your ear, "Hi."

"I wasn't sure if you would actually pick up," He breathed out, you could tell that he was trying to suppress the shakiness in his words, "But, I'm really glad that you did."

You only hummed in response, you didn't know what to say. What do you say to your now ex-boyfriend after pulling an Irish goodbye on a random Tuesday afternoon.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," He continued after pausing for a moment, "I wish I could tell you this in person because you deserve an apology face to face, rather than over the phone."

"I don't think I would fly to New Jersey for an apology." You replied with a slightly harsher tone than his and harsher than you anticipated.

You heard him stammer at your words, then hesitation as he seemed to be calculating the right words to say next, "Then I guess right now would be a bad time to tell you that I'm at your front door."

You sat up from your previously lying position, your hand clutching onto your phone even tighter, "You're what?"

You scrambled from your bed, in your oversized t-shirt and small athletic shorts, running down the stairs of your parent's home to the front door. You peeked from the glass to see his tall figure standing on the front porch.

You hung up the phone call and opened the door slightly. The air in your throat hitched as you took in the sight of him. He wore his sweatpants with the black Artizia hoodie that he had 'borrowed' from you. His curls were hidden under a Yankees cap that you knew he loved so much.

His eyes that were typically so bright, were dull. He had signs of the lack of sleep he's gotten, evident in his dark under eye bags and his paler skin. He looked just as exhausted as he sounded over the phone.

"Wha- What are you doing here?" You stuttered out, still in shock that he was standing in front of you rather than in your apartment back in Jersey.

His hand rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick that he had, "You didn't respond to me when I first texted you and I got worried that something might have happened to you... So I called your mom and she told me that I can come over to try to fix it."

You were at a loss of words.

"You called my mom? No wait, you flew from New Jersey this afternoon to check on me?" You repeated his words, in somewhat of a state of shock from the information you were still processing.

"I know you told me to not come and find you or talk to you," He swallowed hard before stuffing his hands into the pocket of your sweater that he wore, "But you deserve an actual apology for what I put you through. You didn't deserve any of that."

You slowly nodded, still catching up on the situation. You opened the door further, welcoming him into the home that he had visited on multiple occasions. You guided him to your childhood bedroom, with you sitting on your mattress while he opted for the chair by your desk.

"I'm sorry for just showing up," He said to you, pulling off his hat and resting it on the desk, "It's just- It didn't sit right with me that I made you feel unwanted and unloved and that I didn't care about you and that you never got to hear me say sorry."

Your focus was on your hands and twisting the rings that you wore, and only briefly glancing up to look at him as he spoke to you.

"I am so sorry," He started, his voice regaining the slight shakiness that it had over the phone, "I never meant to hurt you like that and I know that's so stupid of me to say after doing all of that to you. You didn't deserve to feel that way ever and it makes me feel sick that I did that to you after everything- after everything you have done for me."

Your heart clenched and twisted at the way his voice got heavy as he tried to bury down his tears. You could hear it. Your chest felt tighter as he rambled on and your vision blurred as your eyes glossed over.

"You've done nothing but love and support me through everything and you're the best thing to ever happen to me," You finally pulled your eyes away from your rings and locked eyes with his blue ones. The same blue ones that you fell in love with, now brimmed with tears.

"Hockey has always been a big part of me and it's a part of who I am but you, you are my future and you are what I live for." He told you, a singular tear escaping from the corner of his eyes as he slowly approached you.

You stayed sitting on your bed as he lowered to his knees and carefully took your hands into his, "I don't deserve your forgiveness. Not after everything I put you through. But I love you. I love you so fucking much. You are the reason that I am where I am and I am who I am."

"I love you and I've done a shit fucking job of showing it lately and you deserve so much more than what I have given you," He said while pressing a kiss on your knuckles,

“You’re the love of my life, my every feeling is controlled by the look of your face,” Luke confessed with his hands running through his curls as he started spilling the emotions he wanted to desperately show you, “Fuck knows I can’t sleep without you.”

“I exist for you,” He breathed out, looking directly into your eyes, “If I could take it all back and make sure that you never doubted your position in my life, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“Luke…” You mumbled out, your voice soft as you sat frozen in place. 

His large hands cupped your cheeks as he looked up to meet your downward tilted face, his thumb gently brushing away the loose strands that had fallen over your eyes. 

“I know,” He whispered, “It kills me every day knowing that you are far away from my life and it kills me to know that I could have prevented it."

You slowly nodded with your glossy eyes and a small smile starting to etch onto your face, “Oh, Luke.”

“God, I fucking love you and I can’t ever see myself with anyone else because you’re it for me. I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that's what it means to keep you, I love you."

“I love you too, Luke” You smiled as tears finally started to fall from your eyes. He smiled back at you,

“Don’t say too because then you’re just agreeing with me." Luke teased while wiping away your tears.

You giggled, “I love you Luke Hughes.”

You grabbed his biceps and pulled him to his feet as you stood up from the bed. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck while his instinctively looped around your middle, "Let's never do that again." You said to him and he let out a breathy chuckle,

"I don't think I can handle being away from you." He whispered before kissing your lips softly, "I'm so sorry."

"I know you are," You mumbled against his lips.

[hst3000]

Most fantasy settings have technological development grind to a halt at what would be something akin to the European Late Medieval period. You may or may not have gunpowder but even if you do it isn't very good. You have a few scattered urban centers but the majority of the population is still rural. Scientific method doesn't yet exist, optics are new and exotic technology, government is almost exclusively an absolute hereditary head, and the closest thing you have to democratic or representative government are trade guilds.

Which makes sense, as that's the last time you really can have 'this has been like this since time immemorial' (which if you're curious is 1189). A Sumerian warrior during the bronze age would recognize and know what to do with a medieval sword or pike. He'd probably be flabbergasted at how long it holds its edge and wouldn't recognize the metal, but that doesn't matter in how well he could kill someone with it. Going the other direction, families would hand down armor through generations, and sets could serve for centuries. Still worked just fine (though obviously there's some Ship of Theseus repairwork happening).

If you want your setting to have ancient artifacts that are actually USEFUL, you can't progress further along technologically before you get stuff that fundamentally reorganizes society and warfare to make the old stuff obsolete. If you're then dedicated to locking in and stagnating that technological progression, then there's nothing stopping you from declaring that stagnation to have been in effect for an arbitrary number of years.

Secondly, if you think of societal progress as periods of human memory instead of just years, then your sum total of human progress from agriculture to the modern age is about 125 lifespans.

Elves and dwarves who live for hundreds or thousands of years don't simply stop being relevant when they hit 80. In some settings they aren't even adults by 80. They pass wisdom and caution for centuries.

So if your lifespan isn't 80 years, but 500, then instead of 10,000 years, you'd need to spend sixty two thousand. More simply, think about your great great grandpa who lived during the civil war, how removed from you he is in living memory (the last people who spoke to someone who met that man directly are dying or just died). To have that same relationship for a dwarf who could expect to live to 400, that person would have had to have lived around 1025 instead of 1860.

Of course stuff is going to move slower.

pro-tip: don't ever use the sentence "thousands of years" in your worldbuilding unless you really know what a thousand years is like

[enhaeil]

Jay’s response to you taking off your ring during an argument

ACT LIKE THAT! ☆ 박종성

"how you gonna up and leave me now how you gonna act like that? how you gonna change it up? we just finished makin' up... how you gonna act like that?"

how you gonna act like that - tyrese

c/w: angst, arguing and im in love w jay

it's as if a grey cloud is sitting over your once happy home. the bed is colder, the conversations are dry, and the goodbyes are quiet.

you can't even remember the last time you put the 'i' in front of 'love you'.

but you knew you loved him. you know the man you married and you know how good it could be. "it's just a bump in the road, that's all." is what you keep telling yourself, until it finally caused a crash.

"i just feel like you don't even want to be in this relationship anymore, y/n. i try to talk to you, but you shut me out. when i hold you, it feels distant. when i try to make love to you, you always push me off. do you even love me?" he says, still keeping his voice at a decent level.

"do i love you? of course, I love you, jay. if anything, i should be asking you that. when's the last time you've actually tried to do any of that? you barely look at me." your chest feels tight. your voice is rising, and it feels like you can't control it.

"i look at you all the time, y/n you're my wife. don't try to flip this on me when you're the one who's been distant." he says, taking a seat on the couch to ground himself.

"sure, jay. you look at me. whatever. but are you really seeing me ? i'm miserable, jay. i'm unhappy. i'm going through it. i feel trapped in my own house, and then I have to go outside and face it too. i should be able to at least come home to a husband who acts like he cares about me."

that was the pin to the balloon. for the first time, jay raises his voice at you. and you don't like it one bit.

"fine, y/n. if i'm such a bad husband, why're we married then?" he shouts before his brain could even process his words.

he wants to take it back. he wants to stand up and hold you, but his legs won't move.

before he could, you're out of his sight, and he hears your bedroom door shut. god, he's such an idiot.

jay gives it some time. not just for him to collect his thoughts, but for you to collect yours. he knew both of you were stressed, but not to this point.

he finally heads upstairs, carefully opening the door. he hears the shower running and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

he scans the room, looking at the box of tissues sitting on the nightstand, a sign of the tears he made you shed that night, his chest tightening at the thought.

he noticed something sparkling next to it, causing him to step closer.

the ring he spent hours choosing, because he knew you didn't deserve just any regular ring. the ring he gracefully placed on your finger on your special day. the ring he's pressed kisses against absentmindedly, a promise to each other, sitting on the nightstand.

he didn't think you would take his words to heart. he knows why you two are married. he knows why you chose to stay with him even when he hasn't been the best husband. he plays with the diamond band in his hand as thoughts race through his head.

he doesn't even hear the shower cut off or the door opening as he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the ring in his hand.

steams follows you as you leave the bathroom, hair damp and towel wrapped around you, yet once you spot jay, you tightened it as if he'd never seen you more vulnerable.

"j-jay ... can you step out, i wanna get dressed." you say, voice quiet and hoarse.

his heart breaks even more, hearing that. "don't be like that, y/n. please." he says desperately.

a moment of silence passes, before he lets out a shaky sigh. "you took your ring off." he says letting out a dry chuckle.

your heart sinks. you'd never thought it would get here, seeing the man you love, broken.

"i'm sorry, jay. i didn't know what to do and- and i was angry, and i-"

"i haven't stopped loving you, ever, y/n. i'm sorry that i failed to show you that. and whatever I did wrong, i'll fix it. i'll talk to you all night, i'll work from home if you need me to. but whatever you do, please don't leave me."

you don't miss the way a stray tear falls from jay's eyes, and without thinking, your feet move towards him. you wipe the tears that now fall freely from his eyes, throat becoming dry at the sight.

"jay, i was never going to leave. i was upset, and i wasn't thinking when i took it off. you are my everything, and i'm so sorry that I pushed you away or made you feel less than that."

it's quiet again as jay pulls you into his lap, head laid on your towel covered chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

he slides the ring back to your finger, back where it belongs. as he returns the diamond to its home, he recites his wedding vows like a prayer.

"i promise that when it feels like the world is attacking you, i'll never join in; i'll love you even harder."

a/n: i could write abt jay for hours and hours and hourssss mind you ... he hasn't been my bias since like 2021 ITS BEEN ONLY NIKI THIS WHOLE TIME . yet i have zero niki fics posted uh hello!

[heesmiles]

FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE l.hs

೨౿ ⠀  ׅ ⠀   ̇  7k ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairings 𝜗𝜚 heeseung ៹ fem ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ angst ˒ slice of life

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ smut mdni. reader and Heeseung are NOT good people. toxic relationships betrayal runaway bride trope interrupting a wedding. cheating (don't like it don't read it) fist fights unprotected sex (bad) oral male receiving tit fuck mirror sex bathroom sex (multiple times) filthy to be honest ft. Yunjin (le sserafim) and Belle (Kiss of life - this is an old fic btw) heartbroken jay (I'm sorry jay ily) + more I'm probably forgetting about.

in which ୨୧ You shouldn't love him. you were marrying his best friend for gods sake, but you couldn't help your feelings and on what's supposed to be the best day of your life it became clear that Heeseung couldn't help his feelings either.

★ ! rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . GUYSSSS I FINALLY FOUND THIS!!!!!!!! this is from my old account!! I'm reposting it! This was when I first started posting on blr so be kind to the writing, it's terrible. but I love this fic and I don't know why.

You shouldn't be doing this. It was terrible, it was wrong, it was so so wrong. How could something so exceptionally good be so erroneous. You couldn't help it, truly. Heeseung was your kryptonite and he knew it. In fact he was rather smug with the fact.

He currently had you bent over the vanity in the run down bathroom at the very venue you were meant to get married in as soon as tomorrow. This was your fucking rehearsal dinner and here you were fucking the best man, who is also your husband to-be's best friend. You were a terrible person doing a terribly impermissible thing. Something Jay would hate you both for, rightfully so.

Still the desire you felt in your veins for Heeseung was simply inextinguishable. The heat of your love burned too brightly to be put out. No matter how many times you had tried to stop whatever this was you couldn't. You always found yourself back together, him deep inside you for hours on end in the most outlandish of places. Bathrooms, cars, dressing rooms, closets. Anywhere you could get your hands on each other you did.

It started a random night when you and Jay had a big fight. Thinking your relationship was over you drowned your sorrows at the local pub near your house. Somewhere Heeseung had apparently frequented after stressful days of work. One thing lead to another and you ended up in the bathroom together, then you ended up in his bed for hours you were tangled up in one another not thinking of the repercussions of your more then distasteful actions.

The morning after when you woke up with a pounding headache and a memory that had made you sick to your stomach you cried for what seemed like days. Jay had called you apologizing near tears as he assumed you were cooling off at your best friend Yunjin's house. You and Heeseung swore that it was brief lapse in judgement and that it would never happen again, it would become something you took to your grave.

Until it happened again, and again, and again. Every chance you got. The sick feeling afterwards never really faded. The guilt of what the two of you were doing eating you up inside. Even then you didn't stop. Heeseung was like a drug, one that consumed your entire being.

You found yourself thinking about him at almost all waking moments. Even when Jay and yourself were being intimate you thought of Heeseung and the way he knew your body better than any man you had ever been with, including Jay. How he could get you to cum with a simple lick of his tongue on your clit. He was the best lover you've ever took to your bed. On top of all that he was the best friend you could dream of having.

While you had a more than stellar sex life with Heeseung you also had an amazing friendship, speaking until all hours of the night about any and everything. The conversations never grew awkward the moments never growing stale. Soon you found yourself falling in absolute love with him.

Leaving Jay was something you wouldn't even think about doing, It would hurt him way too much. The man had adored you, he treated you like a princess. You were the least deserving person of his love and yet you were terrified of being without him. What would your family think? Your friends? They would hate you, they would judge you.

Of course you and Heeseung had talked about running away together but it just wasn't feasible at the moment. In all honestly the thought of leaving was something you were running away from. You were too comfortable with your daily life and routine. The thought of starting over scared you. It was hard to admit that the thought slightly excited you too. The thought of being with Heeseung all in. No secrets, no hiding. Free to love each other out in the open, but it wasn't that simple and no one in your life would forgive you for it. No matter how tempting the idea was.

The night that Jay had proposed to you was a bittersweet one. You knew you had loved Jay but you also knew that you weren't in love with him. It hurt you more to admit that to yourself. When he proposed your friends and family were there, including Heeseung. Who had a smile that only you knew was fake on his face. He clapped like everyone else when you accepted but you knew the true turmoil circling in his head.

That was more than evident when he later pushed you into the bathroom of the fancy restaurant. Yanking your panties down and pushing into you in desperation against the wall of the bathroom. He had your throat between his fingers squeezing it like a vice as he muttered words of dominance in your ear. You were begging for him to give you some sort of mercy as his pace was Moree brutal than you had ever seen.

"You're mine" He grunted when he came inside of you for the second time in a row. His lips attached to your tits where you had to yank his head off so he wouldn't leave any marks. Something he was less than pleased about. He inserted his fingers in your heat pushing his leaking cum back into the hole that he had just abused. Ordering you to put your panties back on and walk around with the evidence of him all night.

When you had finally went home that night you faked falling asleep early with the guise of being exhausted from all the excitement of the day. You already felt dirty from having Heeseung's spend in you all night you didn't want to feel worse by sleeping with Jay that same night.

You knew how all this had sounded, you knew how it looked and still you continued and truthfully you had no intention of stopping.

"You're so sexy" Heeseung grunted from behind you. His thrusts were quick and precise. The wack of his hips against yours furthered the arousal coursing through you. "Taking me so good like a good little wife." His voice was firm as he whispered the words in your ear taunting you.

The white rehearsal dress you were wearing was bunched up around your waist, your panties hastily pushed down your legs for quick and easy access. Heeseung's tie crooked and hair disheveled from the heated make out session you were having only ten minutes ago.

"Hee" You gasped out griping the basin of the sink in your hands. "feels so good" You words were slurred as Heeseung continued his assault on your battered core. His grip on your hips tightening with every thrust and every slam of his hips.

"Yeah?" Heeseung smirked watching your face contort from the pleasure through the mirror in front of you. "Who's making you feel so good baby?" His breathing was heavy the words sounding more breathy than you were sure was intended.

"You" You whispered out, struggling to find the words he was chasing after.

"What was that?" He continued to taunt. His hand snaked around your neck squeezing lightly as he brought your mouth to his, hovering over your lips but not fully connecting them. You whined pushing your face forward in a feeble attempt at connecting your lips with his.

"No no" Heeseung tisked with a coo. "Answer my question baby..who's making you feel so good?" His tongue ghosted the outside of your lips grazing them in a tantalizing way.

"You" You gasped out "You Heeseung" You knew he was looking for his name to fall from your lips. His smirk all the evidence you needed to know that you had reached his target.

"That's right my love" He quickened his pace even faster knocking the air from yours lungs in the process. The thought of someone possibly looking for you had eluded you the moment Heeseung sank inside of you.

"I'm close" You heaved splaying a hand out in front of you on the mirror to better support yourself. "Right there!" You were chanting, your voice high pitched. You had only hoped and prayed that no one was walking past the bathroom at this very moment.

"Right there?" Heeseung cooed slamming his hips into you with one particularly hard thrust.

"Yes, fuck you're deep" Your legs started to tremble from the pleasure struggling to right yourself. Heeseung held you up the support from him more than appreciated because without it you were sure you would crumble to the ground a puddle of yourself.

"I'm going to cum" Heeseung emit's breathily. You pushed your hips back against his in an attempt to further his pleasure. You had a strong inclining it worked when the sound of his breath hitching in his throat was heard from his position behind you.

"Oh fuck, yes. Fuck me back. Just like that" His dirty talk was a catalyst to your orgasm the sound of his deep husky voice moaning in your favor tipping you over the edge of no return. Heeseung followed suit almost immediately after shooting his cum deep inside of you.

Taking a second to catch your breath you cleaned your head against the mirror welcoming the cold of the glass to help cool your heated skin. Heeseung slid out of you with a wince his sensitive cock soft and limp as he tucked it back into his dress pants.

"let me clean you up" Heeseung susurrated. The sex haze fading and the second of guilt that had always passed between you two came and went in a whisper just like it always did. Every time. This time it hit a little harder, the reality of where you were and what was to be happening tomorrow weighing on the both of you like dead weights. Your relationship with Jay wasn't something the two of you discussed often, it was sort of a taboo topic amongst you both. Almost believing that if you don't speak about the horrible thing you two were doing it would make it sudden less harrowing.

Of course that wasn't true and most days the guilt tears you up inside but you endure it, for Heeseung.

Heeseung took a piece of plush toilet paper and cleaned you up carefully like he always did after the two of you finished. He pulled the skirt of your dress down smoothing it out as best as he could as you looked yourself over in the mirror. Your makeup was slightly smudged from the kissing but other than that you had looked perfectly put together.

"Y/n I-" Heeseung's hand snaked around your waist readying himself to turn you around to look at him. He couldn't get the words out before he was being interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. The two of you jumping at the intrusion.

"Y/n?" Yunjin's voice bellowed from outside the door. "The dinner is starting are you ok sweets?"

"Y-yes" You stuttered out "I'll be right out, just nervous. Go save me a seat will you"

"Well of course there is a seat for you! You're the bride" Her cheery voice and the context of her wording had made you cringe. Heeseung as well given that he physical recoiled at the mention of you getting married tomorrow.

"I'll be right out!" You stifled again. You heard Yunjin give you acknowledged confirmation and walk off. The breath you let out was heavy. Looking over at Heeseung who had a detached look on his face, an almost sorrowful look.

"Are you ok?" You asked him, grabbing his face in your hands.

"Uh yeah" He cleared his voice "We should get out there" He ghosted his lips over your forehead breathing in, then setting thee lightest kiss he could to the area.

"You go first, I'll leave a few minutes after you." Heeseung detached himself from you looking at himself in the mirror one more time to check himself over.

You slipped out of the bathroom with ease. Most of the guest were in the dining area of the venue already getting ready for the rehearsal dinner that was to take place. You spotted Yunjin, your best friend and maid of honor sitting next to your other best friend and bridesmaid Belle. The end of the table held two seats. Intended for the bride and groom.

Gulping a big breath of air down you sat down next to Jay who was smiling at you awaiting your arrival.

"Hi" Jay whispered to you as you sat down.

"Hi" You whisper back sending him the hardest smile you could possibly muster. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom."

"Phew" Jay laughed jokingly wiping his forehead "and for a second I thought you fled out the window like a runaway bride" Your eyes widened a blush of embarrassment coating your cheeks. Jay's laugh rang through cutting you right in the gut.

You laughed a long with him not wanting to alarm him. You took his hand in yours squeezing it lightly ass a reassurance to yourself more than it was to him.

Heeseung stumbled into the room looking as proper and poise as he ever did. Your cheeks heated up once again, this time not in embarrassment but in arousal. Squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the want coursing through your veins for the beautiful man that was finally seating himself farther down the table next to a few of the other groomsmen.

You lifted your glass of water to your lips taking a sip to try and calm the ragging fire brewing inside of you, flashes of your earlier actions in the bathroom ceaselessly running rabid in your mind.

"Jenni said that she walked passed the bathroom and heard a women moaning Heeseung's name..sounds like he was getting busy with one of your skank bridesmaids" Yunjin said in a hush voice so that only you, belle and herself could hear it. You chocked on the water you were sipping on eyes widening. Jenni had heard you two? You couldn't have possibly been that loud?

"No way!" Belle squeaked "He's always so closed off.. he never wants to take women home. Trust me I would know, i've tried at least ten times for that man to take me to his bed." Her words had your teeth grating down on each other. That twitch of jealously rearing its ugly head.

It wasn't fair of you to be jealous, you were to be married. But the sheer thought of Belle, or any other woman for that matter in Heeseung's bed had made you sick to your stomach.

"I cant't believe he'd fuck someone here of all places" Yunjin said with a face of disgust. Your eyes wandered over to Heeseung who was in a conversation with Sunghoon. His smile wide as he discussed whatever it was that they were talking about. Your heart pounded in your chest at the mere sight of him happy and laughing away with his friend, for a second just a tiny little split second you imagined what it was like to be getting married to him tomorrow. The sight of you walking down the aisle in your dream dress, your heart racing to the end like it were a finish line and Heeseung was the raining trophy. A true prize to be won.

The sick feeling you felt just a second ago was replaced with butterflies, a burning in your heart that you only felt with him.

Your day dream was abruptly shattered when the sound of a knife on glass was heard around the room. Jay was clinging the wine glass to summon everyone in a toast. Your smile fell for the briefest second before it was forced back. Looking like the cheerful bride you were meant to be.

"I'd love to propose a toast to my beautiful bride-to-be Y/n you've made me the happiest man alive and I can't wait to marry you tomorrow and start my life with you by my side forever." Awe's of adoration rang throughout the room. Everyone taking in your dotting husband-to-be. Your smile was fake, the blush on your face would paint you as an incredible actor.

Your eyes flickered to Heeseung's for only a moment but in that moment you had seen the white sheen of his skin and his look of utter devastation. It had left you confused, and also panicked. You didn't want anyone to see Heeseung's expression and think anything of it.

Jay lifted your chin up with his finger breaking your brief eye contact with Heesseung. He landed a soft kiss to your lips, one you would have swooned over in the early days of your relationship with Jay. The knot in your stomach was wound so tight you felt as if your insides would burst at any moment. Spilling the contents of your affair everywhere.

"I love you" Jay whispered as everyone sat idly by watching what they thought was two people madly in love with one another. If only they knew the storm brewing inside of your head and the gaping hole in your heart the size of Lee Heeseung.

Later that night after the rehearsal dinner you had felt nothing but exhausted ready to get to your hotel room and sleep for the night. Considering what tomorrow was you wanted to get a good nights sleep, it would be a long day after all. Jay was upset that you had to be in different rooms for the night. It was very obvious to you and everyone else what he was intending on doing tonight if you two were to share a room together.

You said goodnight to Jay before beginning your walk to your room that you shared with Yunjin and Belle. When you were close to your room you were just about to open the door before you were being pulled into a maids closet across the hall from your room.

With a muffled screeched you whipped around trying to see who exactly pulled you into this dark fucking space.

"Its me. It's me" You heard Heeseung whisper out grabbing onto your upper arms to settle you.

"Heeseung! You scared the shit out of me!" You whisper yelled at the boy.

"Sorry baby I needed to see you" Heeseung's voice was strained almost like he was holding himself back.

"Are you alright?" You asked him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok its just.." He trailed off looking down at the ground almost in embarrassment. "After seeing you and Jay tonight it made me..incredibly territorial."

You arched a brow his way the ghost of a smirk making its way onto your face. 'Yeah?" You cooed toying with the belt loop of his dress pants.

"Wasn't it enough to fuck me right before that?" You were taunting him, riling him in hopes that he would defile you just the way you know he wants to.

"It's never enough" He growled pulling you closer to him by your waist. You were right up against him. His hard won prominent in his pants. It had you breathing heavier by the second, the want for him growing and growing. "I'm addicted to your tight pussy baby" His voice was a low murmur in your ear.

His breath fanning over the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spin. Heeseung grabbed at your asscheek giving it a rough squeeze as he attached his lips to yours with an animistic growl. "Mine" He grunted out. It was incredibly hot to see just how riled up and possessive he was for you. You'd be lying if you said you were absolutely dripping wet right now.

You were still wearing the rehearsal dress you were wearing earlier when he fucked you in the bathroom so grabbing his hand and placing it on your sopping wet underwear was no problem for you at all. "I'm so wet right now" You panted against his mouth as he continued to assault your mouth with his tongue.

"Fuck" He cursed circling his fingers over your covered core. "You are" He nodded at you, he lifted his fingers to his mouth and encasing them whole. He slurred up the juices just from your heat.

"Can I suck you off" You whined already working on getting his pants off and around his ankles.

"Y-yeah" Heeseung stuttered raking his hands through your hair. You dropped to your knees in front of Heeseung pulling his dick out of his pants.

Starting with small little kitten licks to the head Heeseung looked down at you with a dark glint to his orbs. His eyes were full of nothing but unadulterated lust for you. "Don't tease sweetheart..." He whined out yanking your hair just hard enough to show you how serious he was.

Finally deciding to put him out of his misery you attached your mouth to his cock taking him as far as you could bobbing you head up and down at a fast pace that had Heeseung's knees buckling underneath him. The rest that couldn't fit in your mouth you used your hands to please him with working him over like a starving whore.

"Holy-" Heeseung gasped out holding a hand against the wall beside him to stop himself from buckling under the pleasure of your warm, wet mouth. "That's it sweetheart. Can you take me deeper?" His voice was low and gravely a moan slipping out past his labored sentence.

You took his cock deeper in your mouth until you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat, with a gag you released his member to take a quick breath. You attached your mouth to his balls sucking on them as you continued to pump his member in your small hands.

"Fuck" His moans and whines were your driving force to further pleasure him even more.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth Hee?" You asked with a gasp reattaching yourself to his tip awaiting his answer.

"Your- f-fuck" He was struggling to form sentences his gasps and whines taking precedence over structural sense. "Your tits"

You smirked up at him, Tit fucking was a guilty pleasure of Heeseung's any and every chance he got to be wrapped around your tits he took it. If you had a penny for everytime Heeseung ask to cum on your tits you'd be rich. You really should have seen this coming.

You pulled the top of your strapless dress down revealing your perky breast to his hungry and wanting eyes. Heeseung licked his lips reaching his hand out to cup the underside of your boob circling your nipples between his finger and thumb. A low whined escaped your lips at the tweak of his fingers on your sensitive nub.

You took your two breath in your hands and squished them around Heeseung's cock encasing him fully. You started your rigorous movement up and down on him and a continued fast pace. Occasionally you would dip your head to lick the tip that poked out from between your breasts.

"Beautiful" Heeseung moaned "So beautiful baby" His hips stuttered at your movements. You knew he was close based on his labored breathing and the squeeze of his eyes shut. His thrown back against the wall of the closet.

"You close?" You asked shakily, Heeseung nodded his head fast returning his hands to your nipple playing with the nubs once again.

"So close baby" He moaned out "I'm fuck- I'm there" His thighs tensed above you and soon enough his cum was shooting up and all over your exposed cheat painting it white with his spend.

"Fucking hell" Heeseung sighed when you let go of his now soft cock. Giggling you dipped your finger into the cum that still coated your breasts sticking the finger into your mouth as you contained eye contact with the boy.

"God, you're something else" He laughed shaking his head in disbelief of you. Looking around the closet for paper towels to clean you up a comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

"Aren't the guys going to be looking for you?" You asked Heeseung as you wiped your chest clear of Heeseungs cum. You pulled your dress top back over yourself finally covered up once again.

"Nah, They were having a few drinks and I wasn't in the mood to hear Jay gush over you all night like you're his.." He trailed off looking over at you expectantly. You couldn't help but cringe at the suddenly awkward feeling in the room.

"Well..technically I am his Hee" It was a hard pill to swallow. One that Heeseung obviously didn't like the taste off very well.

"what if you weren't?" Heeseung asked grabbing your hands in his. "What if you didn't get married tomorrow" Never has he been so brazen about you leaving Jay. Sure, the two of you had discussed it many times and all times you came to the conclusion that it just wasn't possible.

Your friends and families would hate you and more than that jay himself would hate you. It was a tricky subject one you didn't like breaching often and Heeseung knew this. The fact that he was bringing it up the day before you were meant to get married was a little bit inconvenient.

You wanted nothing more then to be with Heeseung. You wanted a full and happy life with him, but in all honesty you didn't deserve it.

"He'll hate us Heeseung.." You murmured not looking him in the eye. You feared that if you did look him in the eye that it would be all the convincing that you needed, but you had to think realistically and it just wasn't an option for you.

"Every time I look at you I find it harder and harder to care if he would hate us. I find it harder and harder to find excuses as to why we can't be together. Every kiss, every touch, every time I'm inside of you I'm that much closer to shouting to the rooftops to everyone who will hear me about how much I love you Y/n." No one said being in love would be easy but you didn't know it would be this fucking hard either.

The words Heeseung was saying to you had made your heart stutter and your pulse quicken. Your resolve was crumbling and fast.

"I don't know.. She hasn't answered her phone and I've been calling her for like an hour." You heard a muffled voice right outside the door of the maids closet stopping all traces of the earlier conversation. It was Yunjin right outside your hotel door that was narrowly across from the maids closest you and Heeseung currently occupied.

"You don't think she got cold feet and ran do you?" Belle's voice was heard next shakily asking Yunjin the question no bridesmaid or maid of honor wanted to say on the day before a wedding.

"No, no Y/n would never do that." Yunjin said "She's probably just with Jay sneaking off somewhere, we'll give her until midnight before we call Jay and ask"

"So..in ten minutes?" Belle asked. You looked at Heeseung quickly your eyes wide as panic slightly set in. You needed them to go into the room or somewhere else so you could slip out of this god forsaken closet.

"Yes" Yunjin voice got a bit distanced and the sound of a door closing ceased all voices from the hallway. They had went into the room like you had hoped and now you had to make a dash for it if you didn't want to be caught sneaking out of the closet with Heeseung on your toes.

"I-i have to go" You rushed out to Heeseung giving his hands one last squeeze before you quietly opened the door to closet leaving him alone. He reached out to you but quickly slammed his hand back down. Letting you leave without another word.

You could do this, you could do this, you could do this. It's what you kept telling yourself over and over as the day slowly but surely progressed. Hair and makeup flawless, head piece neatly connected to your veil and dress as snug as ever over your body. You looked...exquisite. You looked more beautiful than you ever felt like you had before. But truthfully you had felt less than stellar. There was a heavy weight that sat in the bottom of your stomach the feeling making you sick all over.

You were getting married today, but you were marrying a man you didn't love. A man you haven't loved in a long time. It was tearing you from limb to limb, he had deserved so much better than you. So, so much better. You were a true harlet and nothing you did after this moment would change that fact.

You had spent so much of your relationship with Jay tangled up with another man, falling in love with another man. Even worse so that man was his best friend, a friend he had for years and years. You were that driving wedge between them. You were a horrible, disgusting person and it had taken you in a beautiful white dress getting dotted on to truly notice it.

"You ready sweets?" Yunjin asked you from behind you. Hands on your shoulders as she beamed lightly at you through the mirror.

"Yeah" You whispered averting your eyes away from the mirror and away from the prying eyes of your best friend. She looked happy and that had made you feel more poorly than you'd care to admit.

"Well it's time.." She squeezed your shoulders gingerly then turned around to gather the rest of the bridal party readying them to get into their positions next to their respective groomsmen.

You took a deep breath finally looking yourself win the mirror one last time before getting up to join your wedding party. You caught Heeseung's eye across the hall standing next to Yunjin as she talked everyone's ear off about the order and what to when they reached the end of the aisle.

Heeseung's stare was intense, it was a look you had never seen from him before. Like a mix of awe and sorrow. He clenched his hands by his sides flexing open then closed in what you could only assume was nervousness. He didn't say a single word but he didn't need to. You knew exactly what he wanted to say and you weren't quite sure if it hurt you or healed you. Hurt because this was it; you were marrying another man. Or healed because again, this was it and you were marrying another man and sooner rather than later this would have to end.

You hadn't accepted that fact yet and the realization hit you like a freight train going a hundred miles an hour. You didn't know if you were losing Heeseung tonight or if you were loosing yourself, It had felt like both.

The wedding music you had picked out started playing over the loud speaker signally the start of your forever.

Taking one finally deep breath you started you decent down the aisle. Jay stood at the end a smile on his face that had only made your heart crack wide open. You had to remind yourself to smile you didn't want to look how you felt and truthfully you were terrified. You were so terrified that you were making the biggest mistake of your life right now marrying a man you weren't in love with.

Once again your eyes flickered to Heeseung's for a split second. His gaze still on yours as if it had never left. It was still intense, still raw and still so full of emotion that it left your head spinning on its axis.

Once you reached the end of the aisle your hands found Jay's awaiting ones. You sent him the warmest smile you could muster as he whispered "You look very beautiful" to you. It furthered the sinking feeling in your stomach.

The officiant started his spiel not even a second later, your mind wandering to unforeseen places as he drowned on and on about love and bringing to people together in holy matrimony but you could not focus on a single word he was saying. Trying to calm the pounding off your heart as what seemed like a million eyes watched you. Could they tell you were falling apart at the seems? Could they seem the storm brewing in your head. Surely they couldn't pin point the dreadful look on your face, it was just nerves to them. You were just another nervous bride to them.

Finally the officiant declared to everyone in the room to speak now if they'd like to object or forever hold their peace. The room was eerily quiet the clock in your mind ticking and you found it screaming at you something you had never thought before. Heeseung say something! Say something please. The thought startled you but it came straight from your heart like a high jacker taking over your mind body and soul your heart was for once at the forefront of your being, finally In charge making the decisions for once.

Heeseung please..-

"Don't marry him."

You could hear a pin drop. The silence that followed was deafening. No one had believed it. You froze in your place your eyes shooting to Jay to watch his rigid body as he stared down...at Heeseung a mixture of confusion and rage written all over his face.

"What-" You cracked the silence.

"Don't marry him Y/n" He said again stepping down from the higher up podium the wedding party were on.

"Heeseung what the hell are you doing?" Sunghoon whispered yelled to him. Everyone watched in horror as Heeseung ignored him looking at you and only you.

"I can't stand here for more second and act like this isn't tearing me apart. Mind, body and soul. I'm not great with words Y/n. You know that but I think it's a rather simply thing to say anyway. I love you" Gasped were heard from around the room Jay's eyes wide as he stood unmoving watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"I love you so much that I'm willing to be the villain in every single persons story here, including yours. If that's what it takes for you to take my hand and run out of here with me." Heeseung held his hand out to you as you took a shuttering breath.

Reaching your hand forward to take it was all you intended to do, but before you could connect your hand with his Heeseung was sent flying back onto the ground Jay on top of him in a blur before you could even register what was going on.

"jay!" You shrieked out as the two boys tumbled over eachother throwing blow after blow. Sunghoon sprang into action yanking Jay off of Heeseung with as much strength as he could.

"You fucking bastard!" Jay bellowed pointing his finger in his direction.

"Y/n. What the hell is happening." Yunjin said from next to your her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion looking between Heeseung who was on the floor wiping his now bleeding lip and Jay who was being held back by Sunghoon.

"I'm sorry ok-"

"Fuck you! You just told my wife you love her and-and oh god" Jay turned to you his face red, tears sliding down his cheeks in a cascade. "You- you were going to take his hand"

"jay I-" You started with a stutter trying to gain your bearings but truthfully you didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry" You cried tears now falling down your cheeks too. "I didn't mean to hurt you but I-i lo-" He cut you off again, a furry in his eyes you had never seen before.

"Don't." He ran a hand through his hair puling at the ends. "Don't say you love him."

"But I do" You whispered defeated. "I love him Jay."

Heeseung those from the floor still wiping his bleeding mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. Not like he'd need it now anyway.

"How long?" Yunjin said from the corner looking at you. "How long have you been lying to everyone Y/n"

You looked to the floor with shame "Over a year"

"I can't believe this." Jay muttered "You've been sneaking behind my back for over a year?" You nodded, the tears still free flowing.

Jay shook his head again, turning to walk away his back turned to you and Heeseung he muttered "I'll never forgive you two. Never."

Your heart cracked in two at the sight of his shoulders slumped in defeat. Of the sight of the disgust from almost everyone in the room as they watched the scene unfold in front of them.

Yunjin picked up the hem of her dress making her way towards the direction Jay went. "Yun please" You called out in a whisper.

"No, Y/n." She seethed. "You ruined everything. I hope you're happy." The room quickly emptied itself everyone fleeing for the monstrous mess that was supposed to be your wedding leaving only you and Heeseung left to deal with the aftermath.

"I don't regret that." Heeseung spoke softly, being the first one to finally break the harrowing silence.

"I want to be with you" He took your hand in his cradling your face with his other palm. "No matter what Y/n I want to be with you."

"I do too." You said a single tear falling from your eyes.

"Lets runaway" He said, your eyes widening in shook at his brazen proposal.

"Marry me. and let's runaway." He titled your head towards his. His eyes completely attached to yours with an intense gaze you could describe as desperation.

"Ok" You said a small smile making its way on your lips "Ok I'll marry you" Heeseung picked you up in a blur spinning you around in his arms.

"Heeseung!" You giggled out as he placed you back on the ground grabbing your head in his hands, cupping your cheeks and attaching his lips to yours in the most vehement kiss you had ever had.

"Let's get out of here."

You didn't know where you'd go and what the future held for you. You didn't know if the people in your life would ever forgive you again, or if they'd even care that you'd left but all you knew was that your future was Heeseung and with that it couldn't be anything less then extraordinary.

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