#they should've let him have grey hair

[woodsywarbler]

[moongothic]

...I... I do not know what on earth compelled me to make this nor why, but I will not be taking criticism at this time

[thinkinonsense]

forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”

poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(

old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni

logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.

"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.

"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.

the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.

every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.

"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.

"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.

"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."

"has anyone ever told you that you're-"

"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."

logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.

"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"

"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."

logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.

"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.

it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.

"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.

logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.

then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.

the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.

"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.

"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.

"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."

it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.

"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"

"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.

logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.

"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.

logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.

"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.

he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.

"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"

the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.

"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"

you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.

"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.

"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.

"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."

"it gets dirtier than that."

"hmm... don't know if that's possible."

"i could show you if you like."

the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.

"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.

"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.

once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.

"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."

you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.

"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."

logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.

"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."

"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."

without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."

"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.

once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.

"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.

"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.

logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.

"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"

you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.

"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.

"inside, please."

that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.

"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.

"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.

"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."

[thevoidstaredback]

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

[tulip-room]

✧♡Got A Little Something There♡✧

pairing. Sakusa x reader

Content. This wasn't the way Sakusa had planned to reveal your relationship to the team

warnings. Lipstick wearing reader, soft Sakusa, Atsumu being the biggest tease (cannon)

words: 746

a/n: Woo! Posting for the third time today. Everyone thank Ave <333

He really should have seen this coming when he saw the mischievous smile on your face when you pulled him down for a kiss this morning. Should have known better when your lips were tinted red and you wouldn't let him leave without a few more kisses. Unfortunately, for as much as he may say he isn't. Sakusa is a simp for his partner so when you smiled so nicely at him there wasn't much else going on in his head. 

"Just one kiss before you go!" You smile brightly and hold a finger up. "It'd be very rude of you to leave without a kiss." So what does he do? He sighs with a smile and leans down for you to kiss him. Now, it should've ended there. He was already pushing being late because you had asked for 'just five more minutes' when his alarm went off that morning (which had turned into half an hour). 

Instead of 'just one kiss' as you had promised, it turned into a few more. You were looking entirely too proud of yourself when you both pulled away from the barrage of kisses. He would find out very soon why you looked so happy, for now though he didn't have time to question it. He places one more kiss on your lips before rushing out the door and to practice. 

When he got to practice everything had started normally...until he unhooked his mask from his face. He wasn't sure why Atsumu had burst out laughing, he just glared at him as usual. "Something funny Miya?"

"I think you've got a little something there Omi," Atsumu teases and motions around his mouth. Sakusa groans and puts a hand over his face. He definitely knew why you looked so happy now. For his own sanity he had asked you not go public with your relationship just yet (at least until the first match). He was by no means embarrassed by you, he would rather you hang him before Sakusa said he was embarrassed by you. No, he just didn't want to hear the teasing from Miya. Which he was getting now. 

Sakusa headed towards the bathroom to see exactly what you had done this morning before he had left the safety of your shared home. When he got to the mirror he sighed again. He could feel the hairs on his head turning grey when he caught sight of a much too pleased looking Atsumu standing behind him. Not only were his lips stained with the same red that was previously staining your lips, he also had kiss prints on his cheeks and corners of his mouth. 

"You've been hiding a relationship from us Omi? I'm hurt!" Atsumu feigns offense and clutches his hand over his chest and rests the back of his other hand on his forehead like he was fainting. 

"It was none of your business," Sakusa mumbles and pulls his phone from his pocket. He takes a picture of just how unamused he looked and sent it to you before pulling at paper towels to wipe the red off of his face. 

"Were you embarrassed or something Omi?" Atsumu coos as he watches the spiker try and wipe the lipstick from his face with little success. It seems red stains much more than you would realize. The sentence makes Sakusa stop his movements though and turn to the fake blonde.

"Never. I would never be embarrassed of them. I simply did not want to hear your comments."

"And whatever could you mean Omi?"

"I mean." He glares at the man in the mirror as he wipes his lips again. "I didn't want you to question our relationship Miya."

"You wound me Omi!" Atsumu puts the dramatics back on. "Seeing your face covered in lipstick is enough for me not to have any questions. You're obviously whipped for them."

"And? I love them and they love me. I know that's a hard concept for you to understand since no one seems to want you." Sakusa retaliates which only furthers the dramatics from the fake blonde. 

"Just wait till I meet this person. I bet they'll tease you with me. If your red stained face is anything to go by." And that would certainly be a day. He didn't want to think about how well you and Atsumu would get along. He supposed he could deal with the lipstick stains if it meant you kept kissing him though.

taglist. @hiraethwa

please send me an ask if you want to be tagged in a specific character/ all my works <3

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[running-with-kn1ves]

cw: borderline nsfw, werewolf tings, tit sucking

Im thinking... sinfully perverted thoughts. Sucking on your werewolf boyfriend's big ol' tits. It started out simple-- he was just a moving pillow, chest so soft and pliable with a curved body that could practically envelop you with its warmth and softness.

When you laid on him at the end of each tough day, buried your face in between his pecks to avoid the sun's wrath in the morning, watching him stroll around with bedhead and no shirt as a tooth brush hangs from his mouth-- they all lead up to your depraved obsession. You joked with him at first, grabbing his chest from behind and using him as a stressball, saying you'd have to start buying bras for him to cover those D-cups. But a heavy makeout session can make you do things without a forethought.

Such as, leaving a trail of love bites below his collar bone, hickieing below his right nipple, latching on as if it was the most natural continuation. A slight "ah-" leaves his bitten lips. But you continue like nothing, letting him put a clawed hand against the back of your head, trying to pull you back to his lips. It was his fault for being fresh out the shower, shirtless and wet hair calling you to run your hands through. You had kissed your way up to his other peck before you were dragged into a mouth of sharp, throat-cutting teeth.

"Such a weirdo," he mumbled, massaging the hickie you left on his sensitive bud. But it wasn't long before you found you way back to the untouched left peck, straddling his waist after a dry hump session he initiated into you from below. It was only a few more weeks until rut season, you were treading dangerous waters getting him worked up like this with no release.

But like an addict you ran to his free nipple, ignoring the werewolf's desperate attempts to shimmy off his sweatpants. The once wet strands sticking to his forehead from the shower, now sheened with sweat. Tongue circling, small rubs just below his belly button, you were creating a mess of drool and embarrassment below you.

"Why you keep doin' that.. feels weird.." He gruffs, almost bucking into your palm when your hand reaches his upper thigh. "Can't you suck a little lower." He laughs with a short palming of his crotch, wishing the stiffness below his lazy cotton sweatpants was what you were obsessed with keeping your mouth on.

But your boyfriend realizes you won't let up, not when his tanned, enlargened chest muscle popped in your mouth like a sweet treat. Shiny eyes looking up at him with mischief, watching him pant with an open mouth and a wince everytime you pinched his free nipple. He might've not enjoyed it as much as you did, but the slowly inching fingers below grey fabric and his boxer-less hips was more than enough to make up for your teasing.

You relished in his groans, bulged biceps curling to grab a pillow to shove over his face. He practically bounced into your hand, squeaking when your teeth bit at his nipple, bite marks on the side of his breast. It was freeing, having the ability to pay him back for all the wolfy slobbering and harsh teeth sinking he did when the full moon rose. And you didn't feel bad one bit-- in fact, you should've taken up this tit obsession sooner.

[hannieehaee]

content: badboy!wonwoo (he's actually a cutie pie he's just v careless with his safety T-T), established relationship, break up, angst, fluffy ending (it's always fluffy endings here or i die), mentions of shady work, mentions of bruises, etc.

part 2

wc: 1191

a/n: thank you so much to the person who requested this!! im rlly bad with angst so this was hard haha if any of u want a smutty continuation pls lmk <3 i was gonna finish w smut but i wasnt sure ;-;

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"how can you expect me to care about you when you have such little regard for yourself?"

those were some of the last words wonwoo had heard from you last time he saw you.

he had, once again, arrived home late, blue and grey from yet another altercation he'd found himself in. he had promised you he'd leave his shady past behind. that he'd take care of you and you'd exist happily together, never having to worry for the other's safety.

it had taken you a while to break, begging him to put you out of your misery and either leave you or promise you a life in which you wouldn't be terrified every time he stepped foot out of the door. living without you was just unconceivable for wonwoo, which left him with only one choice.

he managed to keep his promise for about a week or two, happy to arrive punctual at home every night and find you waiting for him, more than ready to shower him with your affections.

he hadn't meant to break his promise. nothing broke him more than the look in your eyes as he entered your shared home, two hours late and with twenty missed calls from you. his skin was once again covered with bruises, disheveled hair and exhausted state to match. he hadn't thought this would be the end. that despite of his pleas to please stay, you'd still pack your bags, eyes filled with tears as you cried at him that you couldn't stay and watch him slowly kill himself like this. what you hadn't realized was that nothing could kill him more than your absence.

~

it had only been two weeks since you left him. two weeks since his last genuine smile graced his face. two weeks since he was able to sleep. and most ironically, two weeks since he'd gotten into some type of life-threatening altercation. his bruises had healed by now, taking longer than usual now that he didn't have you to tend to him like before. he still kept up with you, watching you from afar as you cruised through life. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, hoping to respect your decision to leave and take his heart with you, but your absence was too much for him. if he couldn't have you, he'd at least watch you from afar, dreading what he had lost. so that's what he did, and thats what he was currently doing right now.

you were attending some party, he'd found out. which meant he needed to be in attendance too and watch over you. he felt dejected as he watched you have fun with your friends, sad that maybe the breakup just hadn't been that big of a deal to you. maybe you were truly better off without him. maybe he needed to leave you alone and allow you to enjoy life without a burden such as jeon wonwoo.

he wanted to leave, he truly did, but his body wouldn't let him. he just wanted you back into his life so badly. everything had turned bleak the moment you left, making him just a shell of himself. he wanted to approach you and get on his knees (in front of all the wasted party goes, even) and beg you for forgiveness. he wanted to cry out to you how much he loved you, that you were the light of his life, that he'd leave it all behind for you. but he was too much of a coward to do that. so, he prepared himself mentally in order to leave, sparing one last look your way before disappearing into the crowd. except you were gone. in his distracted state, you had left. your friends were still there, but you were the sole disappearance. wonwoo knew he should've just left you alone, but he couldn't live with himself if something were to happen to you.

he frantically looked for you for a good five minutes before finding you in some empty balcony, sitting down against the rail with your legs hanging from it. he could only see your profile, but was able to spot the shine of your cheeks, a clear indicator that you'd been crying. he once again couldn't help himself when he spoke up.

"baby?" he was slow at approaching you, not wanting to surprise you too much.

you jumped a bit anyways, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

"i ... i wanted to see you. i'm sorry"

you had gotten up, now facing him but keeping yourself closed off, arms wrapped around yourself and eyes not meeting his, very much unlike your usual affectionate self.

"wonwoo ... you can't keep doing this. i know you've been following me around. you need to leave me alone."

"i .."

"do you think this is easy for me? i love you. so fucking much. i just cant watch you get hurt over and over. i cant wait home late not knowing if you'll actually come back," you'd began ranting, your emotions getting stronger by the second, "every time you leave it's like i have to hold my breath, and i cant breathe until i have you back to me safely. i can't do this anymore. i love you, i-"

wonwoo couldnt take it anymore. he walked the rest of the way and held onto you. he lightly grabbed you and placed you in his arms, engulfing your shaking form against his chest. you'd begun crying halfway through your speech, your words becoming slurred and you shook and sniffled throughout. wonwoo couldn't physically handle seeing you in such distress without wanting to take it away. so he held onto you. what surprised him was that you held him back. you nuzzled your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you sobbed against him, crying that you loved him.

"i love you ... so fucking much," pulling away, he made sure to look into your eyes as he spoke, "i can't exist without you. i'll stop- i stopped. i'll leave it all behind for you. we can leave. together. i'll do anything for you, just- please. please come back to me. i love you."

"wonwoo ..."

"i mean it! i'll keep you safe. i'll keep us safe. we can start new. just us. you'll never have to worry about me again, i promise. just need you back. please. i can't do this without you, i-"

like in any other cliche, you pulled him into you, kissing his words back into his mouth. but he didn't care. he kissed all emotions right back into yours, letting all the sadness he had in him dissipate against your lips. you kissed until you became lightheaded, sighing against each other's lips even when you were out of breath, refusing to pull away. wonwoo was finally the one to pull away, almost losing his mind at the way your lips chased after his.

"let me take you home? i love you. wanna take care of you."

and with that, you walked back into his life, hand in hand, with the promise that his love for you would keep him safe.

[shotmrmiller]

the possibilities for bullying a girl into an inescapable marriage are endless … soap finding a girl from a catholic family, getting her into bed, then ‘accidentally’ letting it slip to her family and nodding along when her mother is like ‘you have to marry him it’s the only way to save yourself from sin’

price in vegas getting blackout drunk with some sweet thin he met at the casino bar, and both of them waking up in the morning with rings. so what if price wasn’t really that drunk? reader doesn’t need to know that.

ghost who convinces you to marry him for the benefits so he gets better housing and you get his health insurance. you think it’s purely transactional, so imagine your surprise when he starts expecting you to perform your other spousal duties and threatens to kill the guy you were gonna go on a date with.

gaz who agrees to be your fake boyfriend for a family dinner, so you don’t have to suffer through another round of ‘what do you mean you’re still single? when am i getting grandbabies?’ only to realize your mistake too late when you catch him in the kitchen with your mother, promising her she’s getting grandbabies soon.

soap's just looking at her mom like he hadn't a clue that it was that serious for "catholics" and he'll do right by them both and take her hand in marriage as if he doesn't have a crucifix around his neck that gleams against coarse hair and pale scars. as if he doesn't remember his ma giving him sharp twists to the ear because he'd made them late for sunday mass again. ofc not. and if he knows certain prayers, he'd learned for his future wife. obviously.

price is def the type to befriend the loud, drunken girl on vacation in some party city he'd just finished a job in. buys her drink after drink because she'd said she can hold her own. unsurprisingly, she was all talk no walk. she calls him handsome once, threads her fingers into his greying hair and his first stop is the nearest jewelry store. he doesn't touch the new mrs. price as she sleeps off the alcohol, he wants her awake for what he's got planned. (ghost ofc hears of his new wife and sends him a congrats text)

ghost gets signed up on tinder by soap against his knowledge will and when soap matches him with some girl only looking for fun, simon decides he's gonna give her more than that and if she's the type to try to kick him out the morning after, he's calling price to forge her signature onto a marriage certificate. (price eventually meets her and he's just like "shouldntve fed him, love. should've known he wouldn't leave." rip a girl just tryna have some sex)

kyle tells her that he needs a gf for the weekend because there's a wedding, soaps wedding actually, and she agrees. (every time she corrects him to his plus one he simply repeats himself.) he immediately goes back on his promise, "i won't even touch ya," cuz his hand is constantly roaming south, he sits her on his lap whether she wants it or not, and during the slow dancing he's prying her mouth open with his for, "just one kiss." if he fucks her in the groom's dressing room during the dinner, no he didn't. (he needs his hands on her, no one believes that they're dating:(

[oracle-of-dream]

Dumb Bunny

Minors DNI

Summary: You and Kai would always compete, ever since you were kids, the two of you would one-up each other at every opportunity. But, now that you're older, you're starting to notice the differences between the two of you...

Warnings: Male reader, Blowjob, Throat fucking, Bigdickkai, Wall fucking, multiple orgasms, reader dumification, degradation, shower masturbation, fingering, college au rivals, unprotected sex, cum eating, creampie, rough sex

Wordcount: 3.6k

This is a request!

Knock Knock Knock

The loud knocking at your dorm room door shook you out of your sleep. "Y/n!? I know you're in there! I don't have my keys, lemme in!" A voice pierced the silence of your room.

You rolled over, trying to cover your ears.

"WAKE UP!" The voice shouted again, louder this time while there was more banging on the door.

You dragged yourself out of the bed, stumbling over to the door. As soon as you unlocked the door, it opened and almost hit you in the face. The light from the hallway spilled in as a shadow entered your room.

The shadow moved the light switch and brightened the room, illuminating his face. "You sleep like a log." Kai's black hair was a mess, he was wearing grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt.

"And you're forgetful. This is the third time this week that you forgot your keys." You rubbed your eyes as you got used to the light.

"I was in a rush, I had to get to the gym and I left them in my other bag. He said as he started digging in his backpack, searching for his keys.

You had morning classes, and Kai had ones toward the afternoon, so you had time for mid-day naps while he always rushed to make it through the day. It's always been like that for the two of you. You've always been three steps ahead, but his natural dumb luck would help him keep up with you. Even when you met for the first time in middle school at an award ceremony for high grades. You'd worked your ass off, day and night, to get your scores up, and Kai slept through every class. But still, he'd get higher scores than you. Which only pushed you to work harder to beat him. Every competition, you'd ruin your sleep schedule to one-up him, and he'd somehow make it a tie or barely beat you...

You walked into the bathroom to wash your face, and Kai started changing out of his gym clothes. The both of you managed to get a spot in the honors college dorm room, only available for students with a certain GPA upon enrolling, and you ended up being slotted with him since your other roommate strangely transferred out before the semester started. Leaving you in the company of your worst enemy that you've had for several years.

You closed the door to the bathroom and started getting undressed for your shower when you heard the doorknob shake.

"No way you're about to shower," Kai said through the door.

"You should've been quicker." You giggle to yourself as you take your time getting ready.

He shook the doorknob again. "Come on! You knew I wanted to shower–I always shower right after the gym. You're going to make me late for class!"

"Not my problem. You should just shower at the gym. That's why there are locker rooms."

"No!" Kai kicked the door, "there's no way I'm showering over there! It smells horrible, and there's a bunch of people there. Please let me shower first!"

"Not gonna happen, you always leave hair in the shower, and it's fucking gross. And I have somewhere to be, too!"

"Well, you take thirty years, and you're not even washing your hair!"

"How do you know!?"

"You washed it yesterday! I could smell your shampoo."

"Are you sure that wasn't you using mine?"

"I was running out of my own! I said I'd buy you a new one!" Kai kicked the door again, harder this time. "Like, let me shower with you at least, I can't miss this class. I have an exam next week, and today's the review day, and there's no way I'm going while smelling like B.O.!" Kai stepped away from the door and shoulder-checked it, shaking the entire door.

You jumped at the thud. "You idiot! If you break this door, I'm not paying to get it fixed!" You covered yourself with a towel before opening the door.

Kai looked like he was ready to try hitting the door again before you opened it. "Thank you." He was covered in sweat, his hair sticking to his face, and his clothes dark in some spots. But what stuck out was his hard dick swinging in his sweatpants.

You looked away, covering your eyes. "Jesus, dude, no underwear again?"

He chuckled. "Don't act like you don't like seeing it anyway. I've caught you looking a few times."

"Fuck you." You spat back at him. You tried to walk past time but he blocked the way. "Can you move already?"

"You said you had to go somewhere, so we both gotta shower. We can share. We're both dudes." Kai said as he stripped his shirt off before you.

"Gross, I'll pass–"

"Stop being a bitch and get in the shower." His voice was more serious this time, not like his usual nagging. Without his sweatshirt, his figure was a little more imposing, especially with freshly pumped muscles.

You awkwardly submitted to him without any extra argument, moving into the shower. If Kai wanted, he could've easily carried you into the shower, so it was better not to push him. There was shuffling from the other side of the curtain before it parted. You instinctually turned away from him, feeling warm in your ears.

"Turn the water on. Don't make the water too hot. I'm not looking to sit in a sauna." He commanded.

You braced as you turned on the water. Ice-cold water ran across your skin, immediately making you scoot backward into Kai.

"Watch it." Kai put his hand on your back to stop you from moving closer to him.

"I-Its cold!"

He sighed. "Then switch with me. You can lather up while I get some time in the water."

You slowly started scooting in his direction, trying not to look at him. But Kai started getting impatient, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you behind him. You peeked over your shoulder to see his broad back facing you, water running down it. You never really looked at Kai's backside, but he was more muscular than he looked under his baggy clothes.

"The soap," Kai said, handing you the bottle, not turning around.

You took it from him. Now facing his back, you couldn't help but notice how big his butt was. He loved working leg days, but he'd always been blessed with a better ass than you... You could feel your whole body getting hot while looking him over so closely. You felt like a perverted weirdo, looking at him like that. You turned around, facing the wall, and started lathering soap onto you, waiting for Kai to switch with you again.

"The water's not cold, so we can switch now." He muttered.

You switched places with him again, letting the soap rinse off you. It felt better to face the wall, but you couldn't stop thinking about Kai standing right behind. You could feel your dick twitch at the thought, your breath hitched as you tried to focus. But your concentration was cut off by a soft sigh, almost a moan but it was cut short. Your book ran cold. Did you somehow slip a moan out and not even realize it? You peeked over your shoulder to see Kai's reaction, but his back was turned to you.

Kai's eyes were squeezed shut, gently and quietly jerking himself off while biting his lip to keep quiet.

You faced the water again, throat dry but your body tingling. "H-Hey, I think I'm ready to get out now."

"O-Oh, yeah, okay. I'll finish up, you can go first..." Kai said, barely loud enough to hear over the shower.

You stepped out of the shower, water dripping on the floor as you left Kai alone. You hurried out of the bathroom, changed clothes, and crawled back into bed. All you could think about was Kai jerking off...

You tossed in your bed until your leg rubbed against your cock, grinding against you. You couldn't stop yourself from slipping your hand into your pants, stroking yourself slowly. Your eyes slowly shut as you get more into it.

"Kai...," you softly moaned his name.

You could feel him hover over you, whispering seductively. "Oh? Getting into something and calling out for me?"

You replied with a moan, wanting more from him.

Kai's hands moved to your sides, sliding up your torso. His hair tickled your face as it swept across your face.

"Are you daydreaming? Y/n?" He cooed. "Why don't you open your eyes and see the real thing."

Your eyes cracked open in confusion to see Kai sitting over you. You didn't even hear him turn off the shower, much less get so close.

"What's wrong, y/n? You were having so much fun a second ago.." Kai slid his hand over your hard-on, earning a rewarding flinch from you. "Touching yourself to me, even though I'm in the next room, how shameful."

Your face got hot again. "Well, it– You. You were doing it too!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Me? When?"

"In our shower together! I saw you jacking off, and moaning in secret."

"Y/n. I just got back home." He said flatly.

"No, we just showered together..." You muttered.

He shook his head. "I just got back from the gym. I remembered my keys this time, so I let myself in. I thought you were sleeping until you called me, and I saw you like this." He chuckled. "Did you dream all that!?"

You tried to push him off you, but he was firm in his position over you.

"Okay, laugh it up or do whatever you're gonna do." You crossed your arms and let your head fall against the bed, waiting for Kai's endless teasing to begin.

You were instead greeted by Kai's mouth meeting yours, his hands grabbing yours and holding them above your head.

"You should be careful about letting me do 'whatever' to you." Kai bit at your neck

"Kai–" You tried to push him, but he had to much of a grip on you.

"You wanted me so badly in your dream, so why can't I want you back?" He giggled as he licked at the new mark forming on your neck.

"I don't understand..." You shyly muttered.

He let you go, letting you sit up as he held you. "It's okay if you don't understand. I do. You finally get it, that I'm better. You've given up fighting me, and now you're willing to be my second place."

You reeled away from him. "That's not what this is about!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it?" His hands smoothly moved to lace his fingers with yours. "You can feel it. You can't really beat me, I'm just naturally better. I'm smarter, stronger, and faster than you. You're so fucked up by me that it made you obsessed, so much that you couldn't even really realize it. Your brain couldn't handle it so your body decided to spell it out for you." He said in the condescending tone he loved to use when talking to you.

He continued, "To be honest. I wanted to impress you in the beginning when we met. So I tried to work hard to get you to see me, to show my feelings for you. But then, you went crazy about me. About beating me, don't even lie that you didn't. I could always tell you'd do anything to be better than me." Kai slowly slid you back down onto the bed, towering over you. His hand slid into your pants, gripping your cock.

Your whole body melted under his touch, reacting like electricity. But you didn't get why...

Kai quickly and roughly jerked you off while he spoke in between neck kisses. "You can't even put words together, can you? My dumb little bunny. You're just so in love with me, you can't fight it anymore. You're even dreaming of me."

Something in your brain snapped when he called you a dumb bunny. You finished his hand, body jerking at the sensation.

"Oh no, bunny. Did I tell you to do that?"

You shook your head no.

"Speak."

"No, you didn't..." You muttered in defeat. Every word and touch made it feel like you were falling deeper into quicksand. You tried to think about it, the moment you fell for him. But you could only see Kai in every memory. You knew you hated him beating you, but you also had a feeling of enjoying his teasing when he beat you.

"Then, take your pants off," Kai commanded.

Your body moved before your brain understood, stripping off your pants and waiting for more directions.

"Can you suck me off? You like cock, don't you? You dumb slutty bunny."

You nod mindlessly. You loved hearing him call you Bunny. Hearing him call you dumb slowly made the static in your brain get stronger. You weren't really thinking anymore.

Kai pulled down his pants and let his thick cock slap against his toned stomach. He sat you up on your knees and stood at the edge of the bed. He let out a sharp breath as you took his cock in your hands, and let your tongue slide out to gently lick his tip.

"This is your first time, isn't it?" He whispered.

You look up at him with shy wet eyes, nodding.

"Then, I'll make it a good time for you. You'll crave me even more after this..." Kai pushed your mouth on him, pushing you to take him. Moaning and closing his eyes as he felt his shaft enter your mouth.

You struggled to handle him, but Kai didn't let it stop you.

He pushed more, urging you to take more. And you obeyed without a second thought, taking as much of his length as you could. "Take a deep breath and hold it bunny. I'm going to push you."

You felt Kai pull out of your mouth completely, giving you the chance to breathe. You held your breath as you felt him hold your head in place. His tip pointed at your mouth, waiting patiently for you to allow his entry. You opened your mouth and he slowly pushed in, keeping you from moving. Inch by inch, it slid into your mouth. Your eyes shut as your body twitched.

"Good, bunny." Kai moaned as he kept going. "Almost there, just a little more." Kai let out a louder moan and stopped moving, his cock buried completely in your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you fell limp in his grip. "No gagging? Oh, you're such a special slut, aren't you? I'll get a little rough with you then..."

Kai pulled out completely again before slamming his cock back into your mouth, fucking into it while holding you in place. The noises are so wet and gross, but you couldn't help but love every second. Your throat burned, your jaw ached, Kai pulled at your hair tightly, and tears streamed down your face, but Kai's moans kept you going.

You could feel the muscles in Kai's thighs tensing. His body heat growing. You moaned in excitement.

"Oh, you're ready for it? Then, here's your first reward!" Kai shouted as he came down your throat.

Pump after pump, his eyes rolling back and face contouring into pleasure. It was so much that you couldn't swallow everything, and it started leaking out of your mouth. "Oh, well that's okay for your first time. But I'd prefer it if you swallowed as much as you can. It's less messy."

You felt Kai pulling away but tried to use your mouth to suck on him more, pulling him in. You swallowed as much as you could, almost every drop. Then kept sucking on his shaft.

"J-Jesus! Bun, wait–calm down!" Kai moaned.

His body tried to pull away, but you used your hands to hold him.

"Bunny! Stop!" Kai shouted at you.

You snapped back to reality and let him go. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that..."

Kai lifted your chin. "It seems like you want more, right?"

You, embarrassed, nodded.

"Beg for me then. Tell me you want more."

You threw away the last ounce of dignity that you had. "Kai, I really love your cock. Please give me more! I'm such a dumb, stupid, bunny. I'm only good for whatever you want me to do. I–I..."

Kai smiled. "You, what?"

"I'm just a cock slut for you. I only want your dick..."

Kai laughed softly. "I know, bunny. You really are crazy about me... So, go, lay down. On your stomach"

You listened to him as you lay on the bed. Face down, your back instantly arching.

"Oh, what a perverted bunny. You already know the position... And what great for you have." Kai said as his hand traced your arch and stopped on your ass, giving it a hard smack and earning a pitiful yelp from you. "Stay here, I need to prepare you. Talk to me if something's not right."

You wait patiently as you hear Kai shuffle around the room, looking for things and opening drawers on his desk. You feel a cold liquid hit your whole, slimy and drippy. You shiver for a moment, but the cold is immediately replaced by the introduction of a warm finger inside of you. Your body reacts and pulls away from it, but Kai holds you in place.

"It's your first time, so it's going to be a little difficult. But if you run, it will be more difficult." Kai takes his time preparing you, talking to you the whole time. checking on you, making sure you're able to handle the next level as he moves in with more fingers. "Okay, it's time. Now's the chance to stop if you need Bunny. You came twice just from me prepping you..."

You were sweating and drooling on the sheets. You could barely form real words, but you knew you went through all of that for a reason. You needed him in you. Your body shuddered as you let an embarrassingly loud moan, begging for Kai.

"Okay, then. We'll keep going." He whispered as he slicked his member up. "Remember to keep breathing."

You took long deep breaths as you felt his tip positioned outside your hole. One of his hands held your hip and guided you backward onto him. You felt it enter you, and you could almost see colors. It was so hot, that all your brain could muster was the word hot.

"Oh, it's hot, so hot, very, hot cock." You drooled.

"It's not hot, it's just not your body temperature. You'll get used toit."

You twitched as he pushed slowly deeper into you.

"You're doing such a good job, bunny. Just hang in there."

You could feel Kai splitting you apart with how thick he was. And it felt like there was no end to his cock. You thought every inch would be the last but it just kept going. But then he hit the bundle of nerves that made you almost scream and buck backward onto him, forcing the rest into you. Your mouth hung open, drool slipping out, and your eyes started to lose focus.

"Bunny! Are you okay?" Kai stroked your back, not wanting to move.

After a few minutes of not moving, you managed to get back under control.

Kai stared at you in disbelief. "I don't know you did it, but you're seriously taking all of me... Feel it." Kai took your hand and pressed it to your stomach, letting you feel a small bump in your gut. "You have me so deep in you, bunny. Good job!" Kai shifted you, leaning you into his arms. Your back against his chest. "Now, here's the really fun part..."

Kai lifted you off the bed, cock still in you, and maneuvered you against the wall. He spun you around on his cock so your back was against the wall, so he could look at you while fucking you.

"Look at you, so easy to toss around." He said as he did his first thrust into you.

"So cute with my cock inside you, bulging your tummy." He said as he did two more thrusts.

"Twitching, squeezing, and milking my cock. You want me, bunny?"

You nodded. "Please fuck me, Kai. I need this!"

Kai didn't respond, he pressed you harder into the wall and started slamming into you. He held you against the wall the whole time while fucking you, kissing you on your neck and lips. Occasionally licking away your tears while you rode out the waves of pleasure splashing into you. Kai stopped holding back completely, going even faster, making you cum all over the both of you.

"My turn," Kai grunted as he slammed into you, holding your hips against his body to get as deep as he could. He drains his balls into you, every last drop pouring into you as he uses one hand to feel his cock in your stomach as it pumps into you.

Kai took his time to breathe before guiding you back to the bed and laying you down carefully. "Did you live, bunny?"

You breathlessly nodded. You came at least 4 times in one session and were this close to passing out. Your lips were red and swollen, your hair a mess, and had a necklace of kiss marks around your neck.

"Well, bunny. Now that you're mine. It's my job to take care of you now. So why don't I give you a nice shower..." Kai chuckled as he kissed your forehead. He carried you into the bathroom as you started dozing off, leaning on him as he cleaned you...

[icallhimjoey]

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

---

I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[joelscruff]

I have a prompt for you: Joel, reader and pillow humping. Do with this what you want 😁

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YES. (this is short and not proofread don't come for me) i'm also combining this with another request i just got: joel and reader with the sentence “you say it’s big but you take it. ride cowgirl.” from frank ocean pyramids😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 when i say this isn't proofread, i mean it!!! it's probably bad!!! i'm sorry!!!!!!!! i just wanted to write something lmao

you wake in the middle of the night with a fire burning in your tummy. you can barely remember the dream you just had but the lasting effect is evident as you shove your hand down under the blankets and feel your pussy, wet and sticky beneath your fingers. fuck.

joel is fast asleep beside you and you know better than to wake him; he's had trouble sleeping these past few nights and this is the first time in a while that he hasn't been tossing and turning. you don't want to deprive him of that pleasure.

but you don't want to deprive yourself of pleasure either.

you start to rub yourself, scrunching up your face in satisfaction as you give your clit the treatment it deserves, releasing some of that ache and pressure in your belly. but it's not enough; the angle isn't right, the feeling of your fingers. you don't like masturbating, not anymore, not since you met joel and he started keeping you more than satisfied almost every single day. touching yourself has lost its spark and after rubbing your clit for a few moments you realize it's not gonna get you where you need to be.

you sit up, being careful not to jostle joel too much as you grab your pillow and slide off the bed. you place it on the floor, watching from the corner of your eye to make sure he's still sleeping. then, with quick hands, you yank your panties off and settle easily onto the pillow, spreading your legs around it and kneeling on the floor. the coolness of it against your wet heat makes you bite back a whimper.

you dig your hands into the carpet, baring down on the pillow and letting the edge of it slip past your puffy and swollen lips. it rubs perfectly against your clit, foreign enough that it no longer feels like you're getting yourself off.

you turn your head to look at joel, lying there looking peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps through your sudden depravity. he's so handsome, hair grey and tousled against his pillow, forehead and jaw solid and firm, lips parted and slightly wet beneath his scruffy beard and mustache. a few hours ago he'd had that mouth against your pussy, suckling at your clit and fingering your hole until he'd made you come. you keep that image in your head now as you grind against the pillow, soft and supple.

it's only after a few more gyrations that you realize his eyes are suddenly open. you freeze, staring back at him and wondering what he could possibly think of you right now, crouched on the floor like some kind of wild animal while you fuck yourself against a pillow.

"what are you doing, baby?" he murmurs, not moving from his place on the bed.

"i don't know," your face is red but you start to grind against the pillow again, no longer worried about the whimpers bubbling past your lips, "i just wanna come."

he sits up in bed then, pulls back the covers and tugs his boxers down; he's already half hard from watching you, "come here, baby, sit on it."

you scramble up from the floor, leaving your wet pillow behind as you climb back in bed and crawl over to him, pulling yourself up and hovering over his dick. he holds it in place, watches you sink down on it with no preparation whatsoever.

"fuck," he groans, "what a way to wake up."

you're too distracted by the stretch of him to know what to say, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down hard on your lip as his girth stretches your hole. you regret not fingering yourself; why'd you have to go straight for the pillow? his cock feels good inside of you but the burn is almost too much.

"i should've prepped," you whimper, "it kinda hurts."

his brow furrows, "what? baby, why didn't you tell me?" he moves to pull out of you and you bare down on him quickly, shaking your head.

"no, joel, it's a good hurt. it's so big," you look at him with hazy eyes, feeling simultaneously half asleep and wide awake, "and it's getting bigger. fuck." you whine then, a high keening sound that has you wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in closer, "oh my god, it feels amazing."

he holds you close and lets you get used to his size, growing larger the longer he's inside you. you've taken his cock countless times before but never without him fingering you first, and never when he was only half hard to begin with. the sheer size of him just continues to fill you up the longer you sit there, a deep groan emitting from your throat when he's finally at his peak size.

"oh, fuck," you moan, "okay, fuck me. fuck me." you suddenly feel frantic, lips against his ear as his hands find their familiar place on your back. he hears you loud and clear, immediately fucking up into you and giving you what you need. the head of his cock pounds fervently against your cervix and your eyes roll back, already feeling like you could come at any second.

"what's gotten into you, baby?" he asks between thrusts, gripping you tightly as he bounces you up and down, "you need cock that bad, huh?"

"yours," you whimper, "your cock, no one else's."

"needed it so bad you fucked a pillow," he groans, fucking you faster, "just had to have something touching that needy little pussy. absolutely shameless. does it still hurt, baby?"

"n-no," you shake your head, "doesn't hurt."

he suddenly stops thrusting, stills inside you and leans back against the headboard, "then you do the work for a bit, i'm tired."

"joel," you whine, pulling back to look at him, "that's not fair."

"you woke me up, baby," he whispers, the ghost of a smile on his face, "i was sleeping so good and you woke me up with your pretty little whimpers."

you pout, "it's too big," you're laying it on thick, hoping he'll come around, "i'm tired too, can't do it by myself."

he smiles, "it's not too big, baby. it's made for you," he reaches down and lands a playful smack against your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly, "now ride it."

it takes a few seconds for you to get back into a rhythm but before long you're pulling yourself up and down on his cock, loving the way it slides all the way in and hits the deepest part of you and then pulls all the way out. joel just watches you with sleepy eyes, squeezes your ass and smirks every time you cry out.

he knows when you're close, has seen that expression on your face and felt the way your pussy tightens around him too many times to not know what it means. he reaches down and rubs your clit, smiling when you moan his name and start twitching in his lap.

"there it is," he murmurs, "that's what you wanted."

you're vaguely aware of him finishing a few seconds later, coming inside of you without having to ask; he knows you want it. your legs are shaking when he pulls you off, lays you beside him and strokes your hair. you can feel yourself drifting off again but before you can fall asleep you feel him place his pillow beneath your head.

"but-" you start to protest, opening your eyes again and watching as he leans over you on the bed, reaching down onto the floor for the pillow you'd fucked yourself against only moments ago.

"shhh, go to sleep baby," he whispers, picking it up and placing it on his side of the bed, "i want this one."

[anchoeritic]

dbf joel picking u up from a friends instead of ur dad and he makes it worth ur while.. 😊

"you've got to be kidding me." you should've known what you got yourself into by the second ring of your dad's voicemail. the one night you had no ride home, he wouldn't care to pick up his phone. your last resort was the man you refused to look in the eyes, not anymore. you couldn't keep a straight face around him, barely a look. he didn't even show up to your party a few weeks ago. after your pattern of late night hook-ups, you two agreed to cut it off. that night was awhile ago, but he was your last resort. how else were you going to find your way back home from another town? joel.

turning the curve, he stopped the pick-up truck right in front of the curb you were sitting on. "need me to open the door for you, princess, or are you gonna get your ass up yourself?" his window was rolled halfway down but you saw his face through the windshield. "let's get goin' before it's too late." he was still as handsome as ever; scruffy beard, grey hairs, everything. you could feel his gaze stay on you as you walked over and opened his car door, the wind of his ac hitting you first, his strong cologne was immediately after.

you missed him, there was no denying that. "sorry for the short notice, mr.miller—“ he stopped you by giving you a cold stare, fixing his rear mirror in the process. it’s not like he had something against you, right? you sent him an awkward smile, slouching back into the seat. “we’re back to formal greetings now?” his voice came out raspy, “that’s rich.”

gulping, your face went hot from embarrassment, refusing to say a single word in response. “it’s like i didn’t have you moanin’ for me to fuck you.” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “you remember those nights, don’t you? ‘cause i sure as hell do.” he was staring directly at you now, leaning over the cup holder with a smirk on his face.

“you think i’d ever forget, joel?” you nodded your head slowly, looking at him innocently. of course, you remembered those nights. you couldn’t ever forget them. when he had you crying while his head was deep between your legs, licking up your slick, or the times you two would sneak to the bathrooms just to have a quickie, away from the family’s eyes. he was hard to forget. “i think about you every night.” “every night?”

now it was your turn to play your cards, leaning closer into him. “every time i touch myself, you’re always the first thing on my mind. of course, i couldn’t forget.” you whisper, barely brushing your lips over his. a tease, that’s what you always were. he shook his head, the smirk on his face only settled in. “you’re in for a treat now, cupcake.. get in the backseat.”

[grandlinedreams]

Well, since I have fallen for your writing pretty hard (it's a blessing really, because so far only your reader can be read as a he when it comes to the Fallout series fandom), my brain's been spewing ideas at me.

I'd love to see a genuinely jealous Cooper. Awfully and painfully jealous, where he's actually hurting and doubting himself, but is also angry. Not the kind of playful jealousy he felt towards Lucy, no. Something deeper. And angry at the slimy guy who's already stepped over any kind of boundaries when he's laid his eyes on what's his. But they need the information, they can't go forward without it, so the plan is for the reader (you knooow, that version of the reader from that particular fic of yours, where they are crafting ammo) to get close, flirt with him, go real sweet on him. But that guy's too touchy. Too close, too dangerously close. To getting his brains blown out of his skull by Cooper's gun, that is.

I absolutely love your writing ❤️

OUGH YES I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERY TIME but also thank-you!! I do my absolute best not to gender reader bc it bugs me to do it unless I'm asked to and it's also just a whole lot more inclusive! 🥺❤️

ㅡ

Warnings: jealous!Cooper, some self deprication, mentions of pre-War Cooper, weapons maker/dealer!reader, touch of angst, Canon typical violence, Lucy just watching all of this like ??, skeezy informant dude do be skeezin', boundaries very overstepped (unwanted touch, lewd words), questionable alcohol,cursing, quick and dirty Makeout sesh at the end lmao

The place is a "bar" in the lowest sense of the term. A gutted out building that was undoubtedly a diner of some kind before the war, now with blown out windows but surprisingly, a neon 'open' sign that halfway works in places, spitting sparks that makes Lucy eye it warily. "Is this place...safe?"

You snort. "If you're lookin' for safe, you should've stayed in that tin-can vault of yours." You adjust the sling of your pack, now far lighter than it'd been when you left with Cooper, Lucy, and Dogmeat. "We need information, and the best informant we've got likes to hang around here."

Lucy still doesn't look happy about it, but she reluctantly follows as you step forward. The inside resembles the outside for the most part, the same kind of dismal grey of the wastelands ㅡ but it's busy.

Battered tables teem with scavengers and raiders alike, and you pretend not to notice them ㅡ your attention is on the man doing a piss-poor job of wiping down what's left of a counter. A radio crackles, a singer croons sweetly, but the pitch is made tinny for the way the man casually smacks the top of it when it stutters. A barely there glance up at you, silent prompt that you follow.

"Three drinks," you say without preamble, shoving a handful of caps forward. Your fingers drum, eyes roaming in feigned disinterest ㅡ and then nod when three short glasses are shoved to you. The liquid is of a questionable color, watered down amber ㅡ you sniff it before you take a sip.

"Tastes like shit," you say when Cooper approaches and you hand him his glass, followed by Lucy, "but it gets the job done."

Lucy eyes the glass. "What is it?"

You down the rest of it. "Poor man's excuse for whiskey, I think. Or might be deathclaw piss, who knows."

Cooper snorts when Lucy's nose wrinkles, but she downs it with a grimace that makes you snicker and pat her back.

"Atta girl, vaultie. Atta girl."

The four of you settle at a table, Dogmeat at your feet as you stretch out, catching Lucy's look. "What?"

"What are we here for?"

"Information, vaultie," Cooper cuts in, "we don't have shit to go on as far as following your dear ol' daddy, so we gotta get some."

"And the best bet is getting it from that sneaky bastard," you let your eyes drift so that Lucy follows, "over there."

The man in question has clearly seen better days ㅡ or what he can see through the thick, wild tangle of silver-streaked hair on his head, the matching mess of beard that spills from his chin to his chest. He's sitting with a handful of scavengers, oblivious to the fact he's being watched.

"Him?" Lucy's tone expresses her doubt. "He doesn't look likeㅡ"

You knock your knuckles on the table to quiet her. "The point of being an informant, Lucy," you say in a low mutter, "is to not look like a fuckin' idiot who's listening in on shit they shouldn't."

"So who's gonna go talk to him?"

You sigh, eyeing the two. Cooper is obviously out of the question ㅡ it's the grace of his hat and the fact his back is to most of them that allows him some anonymity, but you have no doubts near everyone knows who he is. Or at the very least, what he is.

And Lucy... well. She's been out here for weeks now, but there's still a naive shinyness to her that says she'll fuck it up immediately, even if she doesn't mean to.

"Me," you say, and Lucy blinks at the same time Cooper tenses, eyes dark as they study your face. There's a protest on the tip of his tongue, one you silence as you continue, "I'm the best bet we have of getting what we need."

Lucy glances between you and Cooper, sensing the rising tension ㅡ and Dogmeat whines and nudges at your leg. Your eyes lock with Cooper's.

"Fine," he rasps. "Do what you have to."

ㅡ

Cooper is pissed. Lucy can tell that, the way his eyes never leave you as you trek back to the counter, another couple of caps for another drink ㅡ not for you, her, or him. But for that informant, the way you gesture with a casual nod in his direction.

He watches as the drink gets sent, the informant looking up, and his gloved hands tighten in his lap at the grin the other man gives you before he waves you over. He hates the casual way you step, relaxed, friendly ㅡ flirtatious, almost.

Cooper is not stupid. Far from it, he knows better than to outright stake claim on you in a way that can be used against him by others ㅡ but you're a chink in the proverbial armor, a weakness he's both grateful for and wishes he didn't have.

It's unspoken though, that you're his ㅡ and the fact he can't stroll over and make a point of it annoys him. Especially with the way the man's hand drifts over your leg, meaty fingers on a thigh Cooper has touched in a more intimate way, spaces reserved for him and him alone ㅡ seeing this fucker paw at you makes his blood boil.

"Looks like they're doing a good job so far," Lucy says, watching a little less intently than Cooper, "do you thinkㅡ"

"Vaultie." Cooper's voice is low and sharp. "Shut the fuck up."

It's not Lucy's fault, not really ㅡ but Cooper's two seconds from putting a bullet in this guy's head, information be damned. In another life, the life he'd had before, he figures he wouldn't be so irritated. He'd been handsome, hadn't really had to do much to make his stance clear ㅡ but now?

Now he knows what he looks like, how he acts ㅡ and the softer lining of your relationship is still new enough that there's that kernel of doubt. That you'd take someone else if given the chance, someone who could give you far more than he can ㅡ because all he can give you is all he knows.

Death and destruction, picking apart things until there's nothing left. All he knows how to do is take and take and take ㅡ and while you've yet to be bothered by it, he knows it's just a matter of time.

He tracks that hand when it slides up your back, teeth clenched because now you look distinctly uncomfortable. It's hidden, but he knows how to look for it, better at reading you than anyone else ㅡ and it's quickly fraying restraint that keeps him from getting up and coming to your rescue.

You flinch at the next touch, barely there recoil ㅡ but it's enough to snap Cooper's threadbare patience as he stands, ignoring Lucy's look of confusion as he strolls over.

His foosteps are slow, feigned casual as he approaches, settling a hand on your shoulder. Again, casual, were it not for the possessive pressure as he drawls, "Sorry for the interruption, but I need to borrow my friend here."

He's hauling you up before you can protest, and he commends himself on choosing this option rather than the one he so desperately wants ㅡ one that would involve splattering the brains of that fucker across the back wall. Even so, he takes too much pleasure in the intentional hand on said gun when the informant opens his mouth to protest.

He hurries you away from the table, ignores Lucy and Dogmeat as he tugs you past the table and outside, around the corner from prying eyes.

"Cooper," you snap, "what the fuckㅡ"

You're silenced by the aggressive press of his mouth on yours, gloved hand still firm around your upper arm as he cages you against the wall. He dominates the kiss, nips at your lip, deepens it with the muffle of a soft moan from you.

His other hand wanders, up your thigh, side, back ㅡ all the places that piece of shit dared to touch you. "I know I said do what you have to," he mutters when he breaks away to nip at your neck, "but I have my limits, sweetheart. 'specially when some fuckface is touchin' what's mine."

You squirm. "Cooperㅡ"

Dark eyes meet yours. "You are mine, aren't you darlin'?" You nod, and he clicks his tongue. "Words, babydoll. I wanna hear you say it."

It takes a second for you to find your voice. "Yours," you say, "I'm yours, Cooper."

He smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. Less aggressive but no less consuming, only letting up to let you breathe as he presses against you. "Good," he rasps, "better rememher that because I don't intend on losin' you, nor do I like the idea of fuckin' sharing."

[the-kr8tor]

In Deep Water

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW vomit mention, CW Inaccurate medical procedures, CW injury, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW guns.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

The laughter gets louder as the source of it shows itself aboard the black hellion, the fog makes way like a curtain opening to start a performance.

Hobie's grip is tight, fingers weaved around your arm, bruisingly strong. Your nails dig into his flesh as the uniformed man tilts his head to look at you, his toothy yellowing grin thrown in your direction. His powdered white wig flutters in the breeze, medals glinting off the single lamp on the bow, hands resting on the pommel of his pristine sword. The angelic figure head is a stark contrast to the devil sneering down.

The blackened wood of his ship groans as it continues to break a part of the revenge. The sails unfurled behind him, blue wings fluttering in the wind.

The angel of death has come.

“Look at what we have here.” He clicks his tongue, eyes boring a hole through your skulls, he narrows them into slits, and like a snake, he slithers as close as he can, tethering close to the edge. There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, snarling, the navy man chuckles, the mere sound makes you want to cower. “Hello little birdy, now how far did you fly to get where you are now?”

Hobie clenches his jaw, stepping over to hide you from his view. His hand never leaves yours, the dull ache from his hold says that this isn't just a nightmare.

You want to wake up even if it means losing his hold on you.

“Oh where are my manners? Mummy would whip me if she ever knew I didn't introduce myself to a lady.”

Hobie shifts his weight, ready to pounce if need be. You grab his shirt, making sure he doesn't do anything drastic. Subtly flicking your eyes to the side, you see the crew do the same. They look at you with fear in their eyes, the hunter’s gazes illuminating their contorted faces.

You can't help but let out a shuddering breath, the sound echoing around the open waters, hoping to get your cry for help to somebody who can do something, anything to get you and everyone out to safety.

“My name's Captain Mathias Bradshaw.” He drawls, thin lips curling into a smirk. “This here is my little merry band of sailors who has a bone to pick with—” pointing at Hobie with his thick finger, white cosmetic smeared on his palms. “Him. The red hydra. I forgot to greet you yet, long time no see you rapscallion.”

You hear Hobie's shallow breathing. Grey eyes thundering, a storm brewing, lightning flowing through his veins. The only reason why he doesn't let himself loose on Mathias is your touch.

“You see here, sweetheart,” The man addresses you and you only. “For the past three years your so-called captain and I have had a bit of a tiff.” He chuckles coldly. “A rivalry of sorts.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Is it still a rivalry if you're leagues above your rival?”

“No, sir.” A gruff voice says, hidden behind the mist.

Mathias turns back around. “Well, we got our answer then.”

Hobie sneakily murmurs to you. “Hide—”

“I'm not done talking!” The sudden outburst makes you jump in your skin.

“You should've been done with your senseless dialogue a long time ago.” Hobie straightens his posture, head held high, a picture of a pirate captain. “Come down here and fight like a fuckin' man, show me your flames and I'll show mine.”

The man scoffs, amusement in his green eyes. “Flames? Yours is barely a spark.”

Hobie scoffs. “Let's be done with it then. Get the closure we both want, fight me in single combat.” Mathias knits his brows, Hobie smirks. “No? Thought you were a gentleman, where's your fuckin' honour?”

A booming laugh replaces Mathias’ scowl. “I guess it died with your little red hair—”

Hobie lets go of you, drawing his gun, pointing it directly at the monster's head. The crew takes this as their cue, doing the same, pointing their weapons towards the men surrounding them.

There's hunger in his eyes, beneath the swirling grey there's a hunger waiting to be fed.

The enemy ships don't even aim their cannons at the revenge, instead they float still in the water, unmoving, the men aboard their ships smirk in your direction like you're being served to them on a silver platter. It's then you notice the sons of the sea’s ship is no more. They took the brunt of the hellion’s collision.

No longer their sails fly, their crow's nest and pieces of wood lay floating in dark waters.

Left behind, slowly drowning in the depths.

You feel droplets sliding on your cheeks, for a second you thought it's your tears. And then more and more of it comes pouring down, splashing on the wooden floorboards.

Thunder booms from a distance, lightning flashes in the sky, lighting everyone's scornful faces.

A few of Karl's men stand with Hobie, clutching their injuries. You don't see Robbie, his lack of presence makes you glare at the sneering men.

“Say her fuckin’ name.” Hobie says through gritted teeth. “After what you did— Say her name.”

“Eh.” Mathias shrugs, “I forgot.” the laughter of his men echoes in the mist.

“You fucker—!” Hobie's hand shakes despite this, he draws the golden gun, aiming it at the navy man whose smirk gets wider.

“I recognize that little blunderbuss.” He chuckles, wiggling his pointing finger, “She pointed that at my head too, you'll be unsuccessful just like she was.”

It takes every fiber inside Hobie to not just shoot and face the consequences later. But he's surrounded, his crew is surrounded, they have no chance of escaping death if he shoots. The only option he has is through single combat and to appeal to the man's ego. He's hoping the idea works.

One look over his shoulder, one glance at your trembling face and he's back to that day, the day MJ was lost. He prays that this day doesn't end the same way three years ago.

“Little dove,” Mathias’ devilish eyes roam over your trembling body. “Look at you,” he chuckles lowly, “I'd say dear ol' Hobie here got an upgrade just because this one's got her head still glued on her neck!”

Hobie almost shoots him until someone from his crew screams, their voice full of malice, venom dripping with every utterance.

“Fuck you!” Gwen exclaims, “Don't you have any honour? She's dead and you're still spitting on her watery grave! After everything you've put her through!”

“Ah! Gwen Stacy, the ballerina turned pirate. How you doin', miss Stacy? I heard your father's still down in the stables, trying to repay his debt to the crown.” he rags her on, scoffing.

“You're still defending her? She's a traitor, a navy spy. The greatest one we've ever had in fact. Her only downfall is loving a bunch of…” he sucks in his teeth, trying to find the word. “Thieves like you. Love got her head cut off and love will be your ruin too.” Flicking his eyes to you, he observes everyone's faces after his tirade.

Hobie steps between Gwen and Mathias, his guns still raised, eyes brimming with the anger of a forsaken God. Yet he remains calm, clearing his throat, standing tall.

“Mathias Bradshaw, I challenge you to single combat, a duel. I win, you let us go. You win and you get to take us all back to the capital.” Hobie's voice booms louder than the thunder above. Lightning strikes near, the water sizzles at the contact. “I know a man of your stature can't say no.”

The man in the uniform guffaws loudly, broad shoulders shaking. “Oh that's hilarious, you think you'd win against me, little pirate? Hmm?”

“Yes.” Hobie doesn't miss a beat.

Mathias smiles, “I guess this one's less messy than what I was planning. Name your terms.”

“Guns only, five bullets. You get shot three times you lose.”

“I'll add a tiny thing to your wager.” The navy man looks over to your direction, pointing his crooked finger at you. “Same terms but I get to keep your little bird.”

Hobie turns to you, wide eyes staring back at you. “No—” He's already shaking his head before you speak up.

“Deal!” You roar above the thunder storm, deciding your own fate. The rain is getting heavier, drenching your terrified self. “The captain will take your terms as long as you honour it.” Nodding to Hobie, he holsters his weapon away from you.

Mathias cackles in the background.

Gently holding on to your arm, you already know what he'll say.

“Don't. Do you know what you just agreed to?”

“I do,” you stare at his raging eyes but they're tender when he looks at you. “I know you can take him, I trust you.” Taking his hand away from your arm, you squeeze him once before pulling him towards you. “Don't play fair, because he won't.” you whisper. “Fucking obliterate him, for MJ.”

Hobie takes you in like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He imprints your touch in his mind, wanting to remember the softness of it when the bullets get too much for him to bear.

He nods slowly, still unsure of your decision. If you trust him enough to sell your soul then he'll fight to the death so you don't have to.

With one last look at you, he turns around, facing up to the man he loathes the most, wanting to just strangle him with his bare hands. Maybe he'll do just that.

For the crew.

Mathias takes his blue coat off, grinning the entire time.

For MJ.

He grabs on to a rope, rappelling off the black hellion, landing in a thunderous impact on the deck.

For you.

Now that he's leveled with your gaze, he's a lot smaller down on the deck, stout with a round belly, face painted with white lead that's currently melting in the downpour. Hobie's taller and slimmer but he makes up for it in his agility and speed. You've seen him fight but Mathias' form could be compared to Finn's build, all muscle and strength hidden behind his uniform.

You're glad this was a duel of pistols if it was any other fight Hobie could be in trouble.

A few of his men do the same, jumping off the hellion while the ones on the smaller ships stay on board but keeping their eyes peeled.

Surrounding the bloodsail pirates, the hands of Mathias' men never leave the pommels of their rapiers. Hobie clenches his jaw, now standing before the king's flame, he can't help but gaze behind the man, back to you and his crew.

Gwen goes to your side, lacing her trembling fingers through yours, Pav sidles behind you, clutching the back of your vest. Miles stands next to Gwen, holding her other hand. You see them look at eachother with a knowing glance and glimmering eyes.

Your eyes meet Hobie's, you give him a nod, eyes full of fury, and trembling lips. You mouth a ‘Bleed him dry’.

The simple act of Hobie smiling at you, makes you tear up. It's the same one he gives you after you patch him up, it's the same one when he handed you the hot chocolate. It's the same smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

You're afraid as you part with the crowd to the side of the duelists, lest you get caught in the crossfire. As the one in front, you get a good look at the enemy on the other side, all lined up perfectly like the obedient soldier men that they are. You roam your eyes to their faces, wondering how they could obey a man like Mathias.

You assume the uniformed man walking towards the duelists is Mathias' right hand man. Left eye covered in an eye patch, his hazel eyes observe you. He's carrying a large wooden box, pristine and smooth at the edges with golden locks and embellishments. He opens it with a creak, rain water landing on the wood and soaking the velvet inside.

“You're the challenger, you get the first pick.” Mathias gestures towards Hobie, all smiles like he's not about to meet the end of a bullet.

You stand on your tippy toes to take a peek inside. There are two dueling pistols, flintlocks. One white as fresh snow, one is black like the hellion.

Hobie takes his pick, pocketing what you assume is the five bullets. The black gun in his hand shines when a lightning strikes the mast of the hellion. You hear splintering wood in the distance.

He steps back in place, measuring the metal’s weight in his hand.

“Good choice.” Mathias eyes down the gun. “Death has touched that one.”

Hobie glares, baring his teeth. If only that was enough to kill the man before him.

Mathias takes the remaining gun, wiggling it in his hand. “You ready, little pirate?”

Hobie doesn't show an ounce of fear. “You're going to die today.”

“How confident, confidence alone won't help you aim straight.”

Your entire body shakes whilst they stand back to back, guns raised on their sides. They walk slowly, counting their steps.

The pouring rain doesn't help, raindrops obscuring your vision, the cold mixing in with the ice in your veins.

With every step Hobie takes,

Five

with every hit of his boots on the floorboards,

Four

your heart tries to escape,

Three

pulse hammering,

Two

threatening to give out. Afraid of what's to come. No one else dares to make a sound.

One

Standing end to end on the dock, they turn around swiftly.

After a beat, the man with the box yells. “Fire!”

Bang!

The sound echoes out in the dark, above all the rain and thunder.

Hobie hits his mark, Mathias groans, clutching his dominant shoulder. Smoke bellows out of their guns, dissolving into the rain.

Your words are repeating in Hobie's head ‘Don't play fair’ you say, then he won't play fair.

He notices his bleeding arm, looking down he sees the bullet nicked his skin, leaving an angry gash in its wake. The wood behind him gets the brunt of the bullet, the metal embedding inside, splintering a gaping hole.

You jump when Mathias laughs along the thunder. More and more lightning pierces the sky. You can taste iron in your mouth, not realizing the pain from biting the inside of your cheeks.

They reload, Mathias’ man observing with his watchful eye, making sure they both adhere to the rules; but you highly doubt he's doing it for fairness sake.

Metallic clanking, gunpowder clinking against steel, Mathias' voice enters the fray to your dismay.

“You know, you were too easy to fool.” He starts, finishing up his reload. “You never asked why I left my lieutenant in your hands and why was it so damn easy for you to get my travel documents.” Smiling, the lead on his face melts further, dripping on the floorboards, the white paint mixing in with his blood. “Just like I said, love will be your downfall.”

Hobie doesn't have enough time to squabble, instead he would let his aim talk for him.

“Twenty paces!” The eye patch man yells again.

Hobie and Mathias move forwards, getting closer and closer to each other. You want to put a stop to the duel, but you have to trust Hobie that he'll make it, that he'll win. He has to.

You dare not blink.

“Fire!”

Bang!

Hobie almost keels over, his shoulder heavily bleeds, trembling hand holding his flesh together. You see him smile underneath the pain, following his gaze, Mathias clutches his shooting hand, groaning and hissing. It looks like Hobie shot a hole right in the man's hand. The white gun lays on the bloodied floor, discarded.

Gwen's hold on you tightens, you can hear Pavitr sob quietly.

You catch Hobie's eyes. There's hope in the swirling grey, nodding, you encourage him, mouthing an ‘end it’. He seems to understand, straightening his stance, he reloads the gun as best as he can with an injured shoulder.

Mathias wheezes out a strained laugh. “I gotta hand it to you, your aim is pretty good.” He stands, grabbing his gun on the way up with his uninjured hand. “No matter how amazing your aim is, you're still bloody blind!” He screams, spit flying out of his mouth.

“My two bullets that's in you say otherwise.” Hobie tilts his head mockingly.

“No, no, no.” Mathias clicks his tongue, waving the gun wildly. “You still don't get it do you? You're not asking questions, letting everything fall into your lap, thinking God's on your side on your little revenge quest. But he's not,” he chuckles. “Sacrificing my lieutenant was the best decision I've ever made, especially knowing the fucker can absolutely sing. Loose lips sink ships, little pirate. Do remember that. Especially since you didn't seem to learn from it last time.”

Hobie's face falls, dread filling his chest.

“Bribing the governor to plant my travel documents and telling him to go unwind in a brothel for a couple of days was well worth my coin.” Mathias stretches his shoulder, reloading his pistol with bloodied hands.

He continues. “The two idiots at the gates were…well idiots, I barely had to do anything to them. The lock was a false security to make you sweat a little bit.” The king's flame proves himself. “You're blind. You've focused so much on taking me down that you didn't notice the little details. It's either that or you're also deaf, preferring not to hear your crew's concerns.”

“Not a very good attribute for a supposed captain.” he shrugs, he says his words mockingly.

“Fuck you!” Hobie aims directly at his rival's head.

It's all his fault, everything that led up to this point is his fault.

The gun trembles in his hold. Mathias looks pleased, smiling at Hobie.

“You know the rules.” Mathias sucks in his teeth. “Don't fire until lieutenant Dubois says so or I win and I get your little bird.” he looks over at you. “Oh we're gonna have so much fun together, every night, every day.” His laughter makes you want to grab the nearest knife and shove it down his throat.

You don't back down from his disgusting gaze. “If he doesn't kill you, I will.” Pavitr tries to hold you back. “And it won't be quick.” your voice shakes from sheer anger.

“I look forward to it, duchess.” Mathias spares you one last glance.

You don't notice how Hobie looks angrier than he did, he's clearly holding back. His glare alone could burn a hole through Mathias' skull. Yet he stands tall, getting a second wind; he's gonna shoot a hole in his skull instead.

His head goes a hundred knots per hour, thinking of all the what ifs. What if he just listened, what if he didn't let her stay, what if, what if, what if, the words are tattooed in his mind, clawing and biting at his psyche.

“Ten paces!”

They walk in sync, closer to each other more than ever. Pausing in place, they stare each other down, Mathias' smile never leaving his lips. Hobie's scowl gets deeper with every second that passes.

“Fire—!”

“Fuck this.” Mathias lunges in surprise, grappling Hobie.

Hobie doesn't get a chance to dodge, his gun clattering on the floor as the heavier man tackles him to the ground. The wet floors make it hard for Hobie to find leverage against Mathias who's currently choking him with his large arm.

Chaos ensues, everyone breaks the line, unsheathing their weapons, fighting, steel and skin clashing. Pistols going off left and right, but your main focus is on the two men writhing on the floor.

You hear Hobie choke so you run faster, taking a fallen dagger from a corpse, you quickly dodge people, determined to save Hobie.

“This is what happens when you let your feelings decide for you!” Mathias yells above the mayhem.

Finally making it close to them, in one swift movement, you stab Mathias on his back, crimson ebbs on his white shirt like spiderwebs. He screams, letting go of Hobie.

You don't spare him a glance as you take Hobie by his arm, dragging him below deck. Shutting the doors closed, Mathias bids you farewell with one last cackling.

Guiding him through the corridors, you hope the winding hallways help make it harder for the enemies to find you.

“Y/N.” He wheezes out.

“Don't fucking talk.” Your feet brings you to the galley. Sitting him down, he plops like a fish on the chair, head lolling to the side.

Slapping his cheek, he wakes back up with a groan. “Actually, keep talking. Stay awake, please.”

Hobie nods, “I need to go back up, I can't leave them there.” He tries to stand but your hands stop him, making him sit back down.

“You can't help in this state. Let me treat you then you can go and help.” You look in his pained eyes. “Please, at least let me help with your shoulder.” your other hand fumbles to his back, searching for an exit wound. You already know the answer when you feel the hot crimson weeping out from the puncture left behind.

You plead with your eyes.

“Alright, do what you have to do. Make it quick.” he nods, you leave his side to light a fire in the hearth, laying a metal poker on top of the hot coals. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Whatever keeps you awake.” Taking out the first aid kit from your bag, you notice your hands tremble. They never shake when you're treating someone, with your back turned away from him, you swallow down a sob.

“There was this girl, she had red hair like one of those…” he sighs, injuries aching, throat throbbing. “Apples.”

You reach his side once again, trembling fingers dipping into the wound ointment. “You have a way with words.”

He grabs your shaking hands in his, “Are you alright?”

You pause in your frantic movements, blinking rapidly. “Y-you’re the one who's bleeding right now.”

“You're shaking.”

You twist your wrists away from his touch. “I'm alright, worry about yourself and your crew.”

“You're a part of my crew”

“Shut– just…” you exhale. “Continue your story.”

Hobie nods, eyes drooping. “She just one day showed up on the docks, asking for a place.” He inhales sharply. “I needed to fill the second ship so I agreed, I let her in. I shouldn't have done it.” His eyes well up but no tears fall. “I should've turned her away but she was determined, she had the skills to stay— can you give me somethin’ for the pain? A fuckin' rum or wine, anythin’”

“No alcohol, if you want to bleed out be my guest.” You hold a cloth above his wound, pressing down to stop the bleeding as much as you can.

“Fucker!” He stomps his foot, “you can be such a little shit sometimes you know?”

You can hear the struggle upstairs. Weirdly enough, there's no sound of cannons firing.

“I know—” the ship tilts suddenly, flinging you and Hobie brutally to the side. You do your best to shield his injured self, taking the brunt of the impact, back stinging from the wall.

He lands on top of you, arms on your side, face hidden on the crook of your neck. You can feel his staggered breathing on your skin.

Bottles and pans fly towards you two. Pushing him away, you guide each other to the corner of the room, huddled together, protected by the hearth.

“Shit!” Hobie protects your head with his hand when a pot flies towards you. The ship keeps turning and tossing the both of you until it finally straightens out, you can feel how fast its going by how wild the utensils are swinging.

“Someone got hold of the helm.” He whispers, his cool hand on your tender shoulder. “We're running.” Hobie doesn't say it with pride or dejection, he utters it with embarrassment.

“That's good,” you stand up, giving him a helping hand. “We can get out—”

The unmistakable sound of a cannonball whizzes past and the ship lunges harshly on the side again. You can hear frantic yells from above.

Hobie takes your hand, “I need to get up there.”

Helping him up, you nod. “And you will, let me close that wound off and give you something for the pain and we'll go back up there.”

“Y/N, you can't—”

“We will go up there.” the fire in your eyes makes him obey. “Sit down, I'll make this quick but not painless.”

He flops down, masking the pain with a grimace. Inhaling, he continues. “I let MJ in.”

You pause for a second before taking the metal poker. “Even after seeing all the bloody signs.” He sighs. “Maybe I am blind.”

You hold his face tenderly. “You were, but you still have a chance to change that. You can still help your crew. Make it right for their sake.”

He holds the back of your neck, kneading the skin with his bloodied fingers. “I don't regret letting you stay.”

You look at him apologetically. “You will after this.” Shoving the leather pot holder in his mouth, moving aside his clothes. “Inhale” you place the hot poker directly on his bullet wound, cauterizing the gaping hole.

It sizzles, Hobie holds on to your sides tightly, bunching up the fabric in his hands. Muffled screams eaten up by the leather in his mouth.

You move the rod away once it's done. Hobie's eyes roll in the back of his head. Slapping him lightly, he wakes back up.

“Stay awake, hey. Look at me.” He stares at you through half-lidded eyes. “There you are, captain.” You smile to reassure him. He gives you a tired nod. “Now for the exit wound.”

Hobie inhales, more than ready this time around. His skin is clammy, eyes red from the brimming tears. He clenches his entire body, determined to get it over with. Twisting around in his seat, he hopes the ship doesn't rock as you push the searing metal poker on the back of his shoulder.

With a muffled yell from him, you take the tool away, letting it cool down. Moving his head with your hand, you look at him apologetically.

“I'm sorry, if I warned you first you would've flinched.”

Hobie spits the leather out of his mouth, patting your cheek with his sweaty hand, he leaves it there, stroking your skin.

“I wouldn't have flinched.” He chuckles through the searing pain.

“Of course you wouldn't.” You hold his hand that's on top of your cheek. “You did good.”

He laughs, hand leaving your skin to hold your hand instead. “Not the first time I've felt fire.”

You smile, without thinking, you lay your forehead on his as more cannonballs fly around the revenge.

“You did good too.” He whispers. Eyes closed, he leans away. “Now get me something for the pain and let's get the bastard.”

You smile, nodding to him. Taking a bottle from your bag, you rub mint oil on his upper lip, igniting his nerves, keeping him awake.

“That's the only thing I have that could help. I can't give you alcohol.”

Hobie tentatively stands up, “Maybe after this then.” He groans, slightly limping. “‘m gonna need an entire crate of ‘em.” he thinks adrenaline is enough to keep him on his feet.

He faces you, a ghost of a smile on his pained face. Hobie bends at the waist, you scramble to help him but he refuses with his hand raising to stop you. Taking something from inside his boot, he grabs a shiny and slender thing.

“Here.” Hobie hands a silver dagger to you, intricate carvings of a turtle and a sea snake looping around the glimmering handle. “Somethin’ to defend yourself.”

“Are you sure? It looks—”

“I don't mind givin’ it to you.” He closes your hand around the hilt. “Make sure this one hits his neck this time.”

“I will.” Your eyes fill with determination, adrenaline still coursing through you.

He wobbles towards the door, sparing you a smile on the way.

“Hobie,” you call after him. “Continue your story after this?”

“Only if you tell me yours.” He looks over his shoulder, giving you the same smile he always has.

You scoff with a small smile, “Maybe I will.”

“Let's fuckin’ go and be pirates then.”

—

Getting up the deck was tedious work with all the rocking and shifting from the ship and the wild waves, add that with all the cannon balls whizzing past, it was like riding an angry bull. Meeting halfway with Karl on the way there made it easier, filling your chest with hope.

“Where's Robbie?!” He frantically yells, forehead bleeding, hands gripping Hobie's vest.

“I-I don't know.” Karl's face falls. “But we'll find him, I know he got out.”

“Got out from what?” His voice trembles, “what happened, Hobie?”

Hobie holds his friend’s wrist, “I'm sorry.” Karl weeps. “Go find Robbie and your crew.” He shakes his head. “And get the hell out of here, he's after me not you.”

Karl's eyes fill with tears, flicking towards you who look on with sad eyes. “What about you and the others?”

“We'll find a way out. We always do, remember?” Hobie reassures him with a smile. “Take one of my dinghies, and row the hell out of here.” he takes Karl's hands away from his vest. “We'll see you back at the old place, yeah?”

“You fucking better, Hobart or I'll drown you myself.” Karl takes your hand briefly, nodding. “I hope I see you again, doc.”

“Me too, captain. Find Robbie.”

You part ways with Karl, praying that he finds Robbie and what remains of his men.

“Ready, trouble?” Hobie gets your attention by brushing his pinky against the back of your hand.

“I'm right behind you.”

—

It's war.

The moment Hobie opened the door to the deck you smell petrichor and blood in the air.

You get a glimpse of the battle before he could shut the doors. Bodies, both pirates and navy alike lay motionless on the floor. The sound of thunder mixes in with the pained yells, flashes of lightning illuminates the night sky and you see the faces of the dead clearly.

Two-fingers lay face first on the deck, arms bent at an angle, blood pooling from his head. Through the smoke and splintered wood, Foul screams when a sword plunges through his heart, silencing him immediately. Danny takes a bullet for Finn who promptly avenges him with his cutlass, swiftly separating the man's head from his body.

One face you were hoping was among the dead was missing. Mathias isn't on board.

Something flashes in his eyes when he looks at you. Grabbing your arm, he leans in, your heart stops.

Hobie moves past your head to press his forehead on your shoulder. Bathing in your presence, hand squeezing your skin

“Hobie?”

He smiles, moving his hand up to cup your jaw. Chuckling, he cleans his dried blood off your cheek with his thumb. “Do me a favour, Scuttlebutt?”

“What is it? We need to get up there!”

Hobie ignores you, leaning away. “Survive for me would you? Live, find your family. Promise me.” He sniffs, eyes glinting.

“What?”

“Just promise me, trouble.” He shakes you.

“Alright I promise. Can we—”

“I'm sorry.”

“What—?” Hobie pushes you hard, you fall off the steps, landing on your behind, he exits without looking back, shutting the doors closed. “What the fuck?!”

You rattle the doorknob but it's no use, he locked it on the outside. Frustrated, you try to kick in the door, hurting yourself from the hard wood.

“Fuck! Hobie!” You bang the door, peeking through the keyhole you see carnage as Hobie makes quick work of the remaining men. “Let me help!”

The sound of cannon balls going off almost deafens your eardrums. If only you had your lockpick you could open it.

Your lockpick.

It's a stretch but you still run towards your cabin, feet thudding loudly, echoing around the hallways that you've memorized.

You feel relieved after seeing your door. Shouldering it open, you frantically search for the metal on the shelves. The tip of it scratches your hand but you don't care, already bolting off towards the exit. Running off with your bag tied around you, hoping the medical kit inside is enough to treat the wounded, you hold the lockpick in your hand while you run.

Your hope dwindles with every cannon hitting the ship.

Doors whizz past, ankle stinging, the sounds of screams and gunfire makes you sprint faster.

You don't notice the blood soaked hulking man leaving Hobie's cabin.

Running into him, you stagger, tumbling down, heart falling into your stomach as he looks down at you through his nose.

“Hello there.”

Scrambling to get to your feet, you slide under his legs, stabbing his achilles heel with your lockpick. The man screams in agony, you take the opportunity to sprint like you've never ran before. You'd take running away from O’hara any day.

Your lungs scream for you to stop, but you go on as you hear thundering stomping behind you.

There's no exit and you can't run forever.

The metallic click rings behind you, rounding the corner, you barely dodge the bullet aimed at you, nicking your hip.

“Shit!” You almost fall yet you continue on, entering the library, you shut the doors behind you, locking it swiftly.

Lifting your hand away, the sight of your own blood turns your fear into fury. With your trembling hands, you unsheathe the dagger from your belt.

You have a promise to keep, and you never break a promise.

Hiding behind the armchair you always sat on, you crouch down, gripping the dagger, ready to strike like a viper in the sand.

You look back on what she taught you, “Strike fast and hit hard. Don't give them a chance to get back up.” her voice whispers it to you and you intend to follow it.

The door bursts open, splintering the wood to a thousand pieces.

“The captain wants you alive, little birdy. This doesn't have to hurt if you just come with me, eh?” You hear him chuckle lowly, blatantly lying to you.

His heavy footsteps thud closer.

You use the shadows as your guide, the oil lamp left open on the corner table does the work. For once you thank Gwen for forgetting to close the light.

“I can help with your wound. Glue your wings back together again” he whistles. “The red hydra can't help you with that but I can. I'm a surgeon you see.” Getting closer and closer, you time your strike right.

You come out of your hiding place with a battle cry. Still crouches down, “I highly doubt that!” Slicing his tendons in one quick movement. The second he falls to his knees, you stab him in the neck.

Stepping back, he chokes in his own blood. With wide eyes you flinch when he stands, seemingly unaffected but his shaking pupils say otherwise. With a garbled noise from your assailant, he reaches for you.

“What the fuck?!”

With a split second decision, you dodge his hands, moving backwards, throwing books from the shelves which bounce almost harmlessly on his head and body.

There's a loud thrumming sound outside, its warbling is almost mechanical but definitely something an animal could've made.

He heard it too, pausing in his movement for a second before he lunged towards you. With a scream, your back against the corner, he jumps you.

Your head hits the wall in an ugly crunch, seeing stars, sliding down the wall, landing on the floor, he chokes you with his bare hands. Indistinct noises escape from his mouth, your dagger nowhere to be found in his throat. His entire body hides anything in front of you, drowning your vision, filling it with your murderer. His blood drips down on your face, almost drowning you in it.

You know he's running on fumes but based on your vision fading, lungs gasping for air, you think you'd go out first before him.

Hands grazing something metallic on the floor next to you, you inch your fingers towards it. Finally finding your grip, you smack it on his head.

You've got a promise to keep after all.

He yells, the oil from the lamp spreading on his skin and clothes, engulfing him in flames.

You frantically roll away, killing the fire clinging to your clothes until there's nothing left but burned cloth.

The flames light up the entire room in orange and reds, the paper around him helps feed the fire as he tries to desperately put it out.

There's that thrumming again.

You watch on, holding your tender neck. Your face is flat, eyes reflecting the fire that's quickly eating at the man. Fabric burns on his flesh, flesh turns into charred muscle, the fire eats at that too until he falls, silence hanging in the room except for the fire cackling, ashes and flames surrounding his corpse.

You stand up, ratty shoes stepping over fire to grab the fallen dagger with a thick cloth from your bag.

For a second you stand amidst the fire.

The thrumming outside and the warmth wakes you up, flames licking at your clothes, it's heat scorching your skin, nose filling with smoke. Even with all the pain you still escape with your life, determined to keep your promise.

Running outside the former library, the cracking of splintering wood fills your ears, you instinctively dodge, backing away before the mast of the revenge falls on your head.

Shielding your face, you cower. The mast stills, sharp wood lay next to your feet. Tentatively opening your eyes, the sounds from above are clearer in your ears, all the screams and guns going off, you hear it loud and clear that you can decipher whose screams belong to whom.

The fog enters below deck through the gaping hole left by the broken mast. All the while, the smoke from the library rises up, replacing the mist.

Your exit.

You don't hesitate to climb up. Jagged edges of sharp wood rip amd snag your clothes, stabbing your skin. Finding leverage, you manage to prop yourself up on the deck, meeting face to face with a lifeless Ned.

The light in his eyes is gone, unsung music escaping from his open lips. Skin dirtied by flowing ichor.

You don't hear anything else other than skin meeting skin in a brutal dance.

“No.” You quickly jump up, leaving the fire behind you to consume, to devour what's left of the revenge. “Ned?”

Desperately feeling for a pulse, your heart wretches in your throat, saliva filling your mouth, bile rising up from your gut.

There's no pulse.

With a choked sob, you close his eyes for him. The sound of wet punching makes you turn to your side. Hobie's eyes are wild, vicious and desperate, bloodied knuckles pummeling the man under him. Skin broken, nose cracked, skull open for the world to see. Yet, Hobie doesn't stop even with the obvious signs of death. Fueled by rage, he paints the wooden floorboards with the man's brain.

It all feels sickenly real, your heart is still beating in sync with his punches but there's so much death around you that you feel like you're a part of the dead. Blood and smoke filling your senses, adrenaline slowly washed away like the tides.

You're sitting in a graveyard and nobody else has noticed.

“Hobie.”

His fists pound harshly through the man's head, splintered wood now embedded in his skin.

You apprehensively crawl towards him, your various injuries aching, blood seeping out from your hip. The chaos around you still continues on while he still doesn't stop.

“Hobie—” your fingers brush his arm, he flinches back, fist raised to knock you out. But he halts, knuckles kissing the tip of your nose, painting it with crimson.

With wide eyes, he heaves, muscles tensed, grief all over his expression. You shove your fear down, holding his raised knuckles, moving it away gently. You hold his face in your other hand, smearing the fresh ichor on his cheeks, staining your own skin.

“It's done, he's dead.” You nod, caressing his face, turning it away from the carnage below him. “Hobie,” you unclench his fist carefully, shattered bone and hair sticking to him. With a shallow breath, you let the tears flow on your cheeks. “He's dead.”

His face flashes with fury only to be triumphed over by misery. With a heavy heart, he nods.

Behind Hobie, a uniformed man raises his pistol, without a second thought, you take the golden blunderbuss from his waist, hastily aiming it directly at the man's head.

Your ears ring, the smoke from the gun blinds you for a second before you see your target fall dead with a bullet right between his eyes, blood splattering like fireworks from his head.

Hobie looks at you in surprise, taking his gun away from you carefully. Hands soft on your raised skin. He pats your cheek and you could only shake your head.

“We need to—” the ship collides with something, Hobie holds you close, covering you away from debris. With his embrace, he protects you. Scarred hand on the back of your head, face hiding in the crook of your neck. Leather, sea salt and blood invades your senses.

The hellion is once again looming over the revenge, its golden façade cracking under the damage made by Hobie's ship.

Mathias shows himself, looking worse for wear, he wobbles on two feet, clutching his injuries.

You hear footsteps around you, raising your head, eyes widening at what's left of the crew, they stand behind you and Hobie. Wiping blood off their faces, reloading their guns, sharpening their swords. The red sails of the people's revenge still fly above, more than ready to take what they're owed, no matter what it takes.

Gwen's blond hair is dipped in ruby red, hands tight around her blunderbuss. Miles wipes his face clean, stepping next to Gwen with clenched jaw. Pavitr stands directly behind you, face covered in what you hoped to be someone else's blood. He nods, reassuring you.

Yuri and James take one look at Ned, their expression alone could make you weep again. Finn, crouches down next to you, nodding wordlessly, blue eyes glossy.

Hobie exhales, with shaky legs he stands up, helping you back to your feet. Gripping your knife, you scowl at the man above.

“How cute. The power of friendship isn't enough to save you.” Mathias says through gritted teeth.

The rest of his crew arrives, there's less ships than before, proving how the bloodsail pirates is a force to be reckoned with. They have what Mathias doesn't have, giving them something worth fighting for.

Mathias nods, signaling his ship to turn their cannons towards you and your family.

You step in front of Hobie. “I have a proposition!” Yelling above the rain and metallic clanking, you push away Hobie's hand from your shoulder.

“What is it?” The man rolls his eyes, looking incredibly bored. “We can't be here all night.”

“Me,” the crew voices their concerns, Hobie takes your hand, face terrified.

You smile, “it's alright.” Whispering to him and the crew only. With tearful eyes, you turn back to the devil above. “You seem like you really want me, so fucking take me instead. Let them go.”

You feel the heat beneath your feet. The fire devours everything just a few feet below you.

They all yell your name behind you. Protests fill your ears but you choose to ignore them. You feel his calloused fingers squeeze your hand.

The man guffaws, “Holy shit! You like them that much?” He observes Hobie's contorted face.

“You like her that much?” He chuckles. “You know what? I don't even want you that much, sure, get on up here, birdy!”

There's that thrumming and warbling again. It's much clearer now that you're above, it seems like it's coming from beneath the ship.

“Come here and take me then!” The rain mixes in with your salty tears. Raising your arms, shoving everyone away, you taunt him. “But let them go or I'll plunge this dagger through your eye!”

“Christ, you're as insane as him. Perfect for eachother eh?” he sighs, gesturing for his cannons to cease. “I'm already satisfied even though a few of your men escaped from a dinghy but eh, I'm sure I'll get them soon enough. Just like how I'll get you one day, little pirate. I'm a very patient man, I'll wait three more years if I have to.”

Hobie's face is full of anguish when he swivels you around to look at him. “Don't fuckin' do this. He won't keep his word,” he flicks his eyes to Mathias, then back to you, grey eyes darker than before. “the moment you step foot on that ship he'll kill you.” his mind comes back to that fateful day.

He can't let that happen again, not to you.

You look at him softly. “I know, but I'll make it hard for him, that'll give you enough time to escape. Hobie, I have nothing else, just this.” swallowing the lump in your throat, there's heat under your eyes. Taking his hand, you squeeze it once. “Let me do this, for you and for them. You still have to get your revenge so let me do this. Don't let him win.”

“You promised.” His voice cracks.

“I don't think I can keep it now.” You flick your eyes behind him, the crew looks on with grief marring their eyes. “They're too young for this, Gwen, Pav and Miles, they deserve to live too.”

You hear the rope fall from the hellion's deck. “I'm glad I got stuck in that net even though you made me walk the plank.” chuckling through the tears, you give them your best smile to remember you by.

“Don't leave.” he pleads.

Sliding your hand away, you take one last look at them, making a sketch of their faces in your mind to remember when the inevitable happens.

“I have to go now or this won't work.”

The captain has no plan on how to fix it, how to fix everything, and he beats himself bloody for it.

Turning around, with every step you take feels heavier than the last. You make amends to her in your mind, praying that it reaches back home. You also thank her, but you don't regret running away that day.

You'll never know what lies for you up north or if there's someone there waiting for you. If there is someone, you apologize to them too.

You leave traces of yourself to the people behind you with the hope you live on through those pieces. That at least they won't forget your name.

The howling wind and rain whips at your drenched form, committing the feel of it to memory.

Grabbing the rope, you fight the urge to look behind.

“Hurry up, birdy!” Mathias cackles. “Come on then—!”

The thrumming is deafening, everything seems to freeze mid motion.

Giant mounds of flesh rise up from the water. Snake-like features curl above, rising to the heavens, cutting through the grey clouds.

You can't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of it. Iridescent scales glimmer against the lightning, cracked scales teeming in gold. the lightning bolts ricochet off their scaly skin, unharmed.

More serpents appear from the depths, towers of scaled flesh. They rain sea water from above, dripping from their massive bodies.

One curls just above the hellion, opening its eyes, revealing an entire ocean in its orbs.

You can't stop looking at it, petrified.

“Dragons.” You say in awe.

“Y/N!” Hobie races towards you. His hand brushes against your shirt, so close yet so far.

You get yanked up with the hellion, grip still frozen on the ropes. Holding on for life, the beast has curled around the ship, in your peripheral you see men jumping off, splashing down into the depths, taking their chances in the cold.

Facing the creature, they trill and thrum, crushing the hellion and the navy ships in their massive jaws and swirling flesh.

You wake up from the trance they had you in, almost losing your grip off the rope.

“No!” You screech, saving yourself, arm socket straining against your weight. Twirling the rope around your hand, you tie it just like how they taught you.

Palms burning on the hemp, looking down, you're hanging high above the revenge. You watch as the crew frantically unties a dinghy while Hobie and Finn stay behind, they're too far for you to make out what they're doing.

Your only chance is to jump in the water but you know that'll be the end of you.

Water parts for something swimming fast under the water, it moves towards the Revenge. You scream their names in an attempt to warn them.

“Gwen!” Your throat struggles from the screaming. “Brace yourselves!”

The serpent crashes on the starboard side, away from where the small boat hangs. Hobie clings to the remaining mast, knife in his hand. Heart pounding, you watch as Gwen runs towards Hobie, he yells, she shakes her head but in the end she bolts for the dinghy. You nod, hoping she saw that you forgave her.

The beast constricts around the helion, crashing the oak and its gilded carvings in its wrapped body.

You sway in the wind with the serpent’s movements, praying that the rope hangs on to the figure head. The figure head of an angel looks down at you, lifeless eyes observing your slow demise.

This is the end for you, you've never thought you'd be killed by a mythical being turned into reality but here you are, hanging on by a thread, waiting for death to come.

With one last glimpse at the revenge, you see the fire finally reaching above deck. Gwen and the others lower down on the dinghy while Hobie grabs onto a rope, cutting the knot off the steel rings, remembering James' teachings, if he keeps doing that he’ll get yanked up, and with the wild wind, it will surely be a disaster.

You yell his name in a futile attempt to stop his effort at saving you.

Finn raises something in his hands, heaving it over his shoulder.

You sharply turn your head when a snapping sound fills your ears. The hemp untangles, with the rope breaking in the middle, you close your eyes.

The sea serpent lets out a guttural scream, the sound alone sends shivers down your spine. It uncurls around the hellion and you get a glimpse of a sharp harpoon sticking out from its eye.

Falling with the hellion, the serpent's eyes turn from blue to a bloody red, bathing everything in its gaze in crimson. it's the last thing you see before you shut your eyes.

You feel a familiar arm around your middle, looking over your shoulder, you think you've already died.

“I've got you!” Hobie yells, with him carrying you and his hand grasping on the rising rope, he struggles to hold on.

So you help him, wrapping your arm behind him, you hold the rope in the other, face close to his as you two fly above the revenge, swinging and whipping uncontrollably in the storm.

The beast trills, jaw unhinging, its rows of shark like teeth in full display.

“Shit!” Hobie manipulates the rope to swing you two away from its sharp teeth.

It fails to catch you, instead it turns its attention to Finn on the deck.

“Finn! Run!” Your blood curdling scream gets his attention, yet he pays no heed.

But everyone already knows it's too late, with one last fight in him, he raises his harpoon, yelling, meeting the serpent's opened mouth halfway.

It swallows him whole.

You just stare at where Finn once stood, he leaves patches of his ichor on the floor.

The revenge sinks, fire and water engulfing Hobie's home, your home.

“Love!” The name rots in his mouth, it gets you out of your frozen state. “I—”

The last standing mast cracks and breaks apart. You lose your grip on Hobie.

And you fall once again. For a second you fly, eyes peering towards the clearing sky, with white clouds in your vision, you brace for impact.

“MJ!”

That's the last thing you hear as you fall in the depths in a harsh splash.

A/N: so sorry for the late update!! Hope you like it 🫶 (if i forgot to put any warnings on the tags please tell me)

[bohbee]

Genshin x Pregnant Reader

Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Characters: Tighnari, Cyno, Al-Haitham, Kaveh

Warnings: throwing up, blood, water breaking, cussing, nausea, pain, kids💀.

Notes: please read! Tighnaris will be a bit longer than the others due to him being part fox! Also water breaking doesn't usually hurt but it will for his!

Anyways not proofread

Masterlist

Al-Haitham

You sat in the bathroom the day had just started and you already threw up, Al-Haitham stood behind you softly rubbing your back, as Kaveh made you some remedy food. "Ugh, today's gonna suck." You said with a loud groan, before puking yet again in the porcelain toilet. Your grey hair boyfriend held your hair back "(y/n), I'm going to take you to the hospital." He said, causing you to whip your head towards him.

"Wha- it's just me being sick? You tell me each time that I will be fine how is this different?" You said in shock, his expression stayed the same, slightly worried yet calm. "You're pregnant." He said with a matter-of-fact tone. You went to go say something again however another wave of nausea hit you, making you throw up.... yet again.

~Five months later~

He was right, to say the least. Currently, the two of you walked around Sumeru City, a medium-sized bump on your abdomen. You sighed heavily, the two of you didn't want a kid yet, you guys made the best of the situation but it didn't stop you from feeling bad. "You alright?" His hand grabbed yours, turning you to face him. "I've told you to stop worrying about this." His eyebrows furrowed, and his hand that held yours moved to your stomach. Rubbing the bump softly, "This will be our kid, it isn't a problem." You smiled softly, despite him being based on logic, he was quite aware of your emotions.

"I know Haitham, come on, let's go get some food, they're hungry." He chuckled softly as you pulled him around the city. "Alright crazy, let's go"

~Eight months in the pregnancy~

You looked into Kavehs eyes with shock as the water dripped from your inner region. "Ka-" you went to say his name however his screeching interrupted you, he placed you in the wheelchair he made you last month and rushed to the Hospital.

You sat in the room alone, contractions slamming your body consistently. Kaveh ran to grab Al-Haitham as soon as he dropped you off in the hospital. The nurses informed you that your baby would be premature but that they would most likely be fine.

The hospital room door slammed open, interrupting your conversation with the nurse, Kavehs eyes shot toward you, and your boyfriend's eyes right after his. "Archons." He muttered before pushing past the architect, he slammed the nurse with questions before he interrogated you.

Your birth wasn't as painful as it should've been due to your baby's small size, however, she was completely healthy. Al-Haitham snipped the umbilical cord and walked back to you. "She'll be just fine, alright? Now, how are you?" He asked softly, the back of his hand pressed on your forehead. "Ah forget that, just get some rest okay?" He said before you could answer, he placed a soft kiss on your knuckled. "I'll be right here when you wake."

Al-Haitham was a patient father, always pushing his daughter to the better choices but still allowing her to have fun. Currently, you stood in the kitchen, your daughter strapped to your chest as you made dinner. Al-Haitham walked behind you, hugging you softly, and kissing your kids' forehead. "Smells good what is it?" You went to respond but your kid decided to make a Muffled noise before... "Dada" you whipped your head towards her. "No fair." You groaned...

(Bonus: Kaveh was an amazing uncle, he would often steal your daughter whenever Al-Haitham was at the Akademiya and you needed a nap. He often made her toys and even a playground. The cute baby brought the two roommates quite close to another.)

Cyno

Loud shuffles could be heard at the front door of your house, quickly catching your attention. You wobbled to the door of your bedroom, carefully peeking out. "It's just me," your husband said, causing a breath of relief to leave your body. You walked out of the room, his sunset eyes looking at you.

He let out a soft smile, "I got some medicine from Tighnari, it should help with your nausea. He also said it'd be smart to do some aerobic exercises." The white-haired male said softly, his hands softly caressing the bump on your abdomen. "Ugh, I just want to relaaaax." You groaned, a small pout on your face, which caused General Mahamatra to laugh. "Oh well, darling, this will help the birthing process okay?"

"Finee"

The two of you stood in the living room, your husband showing you some pregnancy-friendly stretches. "No no, move your hips out." He said calmly, his calloused hands gripping your waist and patiently showing you how to properly do it. A crack popped through your body, your back releasing pressure it had been carrying due to the child. "That soo nice" you groaned out, gaining an amused hum from Cyno. "See I told you, now go ahead and sit I'll make you some Duel Soul" you nodded softly and waited for him to come back.

~Nine months in the pregnancy~

"Agh!" A loud groan was yet again playing through the hospital room, Cynos hands grabbed onto yours. "Deep breaths remember?" You listened to his advice as another contraction rippled through your body. "Cyno-- ugh! It hurts!" You pressed your head into the pillow, sweat dripping down your forehead. His calloused fingers rubbed your hips softly, washing away a bit of your discomfort. "I know, it'll be over soon. Scream as loud as you need."

And that is exactly what you did. You grabbed his left hand which was rubbing one of your hips and squeezed it, causing his eyes to widen in shock. Not because it hurt, no something that simple couldn't hurt him, it was your immense strength that got him. He sat with you and let you squeeze him as hard as you needed, humming sweet nothings in your ear and praising you through the difficulties.

Cyno had to leave a lot due to his job, but when he was home he was the best father anyone could ask for. He would never fail to make the baby laugh, he finally had the dad joke title. Currently, the two of you stood in Gandharva Ville with your five-year-old messing with some jumping mushrooms. Loud laughter could be heard from each of you, you held your swollen stomach trying to calm the kicking infant in your belly.

"Hey kiddo, what does a bee use to brush its fuzz?" Your husband's voice said to your kid. "Hmmm, I don't know! What Daddy?!" They said with a large giggle "A honeycomb!" He exclaimed before tickling their stomach.

(Bonus: you would often visit Tighnari and Collie, and both of them would gush over your kid. Collie would always hang out with Cyno and your oldest, while Nari would stay back and assist you with your newborn. Each of them was amazing to the kids, your oldest even wanted to work in the forest like they did!)

Kaveh

His eyes sparkled when you showed up with a gift box in hand, "And what is this my love?~" he said cheerily before rushing you inside the shared house. "Hm.... a gift for the best architect in the world!" You exclaimed happily before kissing his soft cherry-tinted lips, causing the Acting Grand Sage to grimace.

Kaveh set the gift down on the table and carefully unwrapped it, making sure not to damage the gorgeous wrapping. Inside were multiple gifts. A new sketchbook, nail polish, earrings, and a......... a bag of really tiny hair pins. "My love! These are amazing, might I ask though.... what could these tiny bows be for, did you find a hairstyle you'd like me to try?" He asked, you looked down slightly, causing both him and his roommate to look at you in confusion.

"I'm pregnant." You mumbled softly, your eyes focusing on the intricate details on the tiled floor. "You-!" Kaveh exclaimed, dropping the pins and running over to you. "You?!" He said again with a large smile, tears globbing out of his eyes, causing you to giggle a little, nodding. "YES!" He yelled and grabbed whisped you into a heavy embrace. "My baby has a baby!"

~Six months later~

Pregnancy was easy for you, it seems that Kavehs empathic tendencies rubbed off on the newborn. They never really kicked or made you sick, however, they did make you crave food. So you sat with your Fiancé happily eating Rose Custard and a Pita Pocket Kaveh made you. His hand rested comfortably on your abdomen as he told your unborn child fictional tales. "You know Kaveh, you're going to be an amazing father." You said out of the blue, causing his peachy irises to stare at yours in awe. "My rose, you flatter me so much." He said with a large blush painting his face, he got up and smooched your custard-tasting lips. "Stay here my beloved, I'll prepare the bed for a massage. You deserve it after that amazing comment!" He said with a cheeky smile.

~Nine months in the pregnancy~

You huffed out, grabbing the stair railing, catching Al-Haitham’s attention. "(y/n)?" He said with a questioning tone, wet droplets filled his eardrums causing him to shoot up from his spot and grab your body carefully. "Kaveh!" He shouted, "They are in labor!" Your Fiancé shot out of his room and rushed over to the two of you. "Okay okay, let's go honey!" He said urgently, rushing you out the house.

Kaveh was an anxious father, however, he had an immense amount of love. He'd constantly be scared of hurting the child, even with the slightest touch. This quickly disappeared though, you'd often find the two of them asleep together, random pins in your now husband's hair.

You walked into your husband's office to give him some Padisarah Pudding, your irises locked onto a beautiful sight. Your beloved was slouched over on the table, papers sprawled all over the place, your child holding onto a lock of his hair. You sighed softly at the sight and placed down the pudding, carefully grabbing the Kamera. *click* the soft noise filled the room. Now this photo had to of been the best.

(Bonus: Al-Haitham and Kaveh were known as roommates that hated each other, however, this was not true. Al-Haitham was there for a large portion of your pregnancy, hell he even bought most of the stuff for you. He would give you random facts and assist you when it came to your cravings. He wasn't the best with kids, however, when he first met your child a small smile painted his face.)

Tighnari

The soft wind of Gandharva Ville tickled across your face, causing a sigh of contentment to leave your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you took in your surroundings, that was until soft twigs snapping caught your attention. You whipped your head to the noise only to find your beloved husband waving slightly "Hello dear." He said softly, walking over and sitting beside you.

A smile painted itself on your face and you placed your head on his shoulder "Welcome back, Nari, how are you feeling?" You mumbled, taking in his scent. "Relaxed now that I'm back, how're you and the kids doing?" His arms pulled you closer to him, your head now resting on his chest. "You make it sound like they're here already! But..... they missed their father I'd say...." You giggled softly, a light blush painting your cheeks. "Oh my! Well I guess I have to spend more times with my little plants now don't I."

~4 months in the pregnancy~

You huffed out and held your large stomach, despite being only four months pregnant your belly was LARGE. Having Tighnaris babies took a large toll on your body. As of recently, any food or food-smelling scent would cause you to throw up. Which made life hell for both you and all of Gandharva Ville. Tighnari would send people on missions to find different plants to ease his lovers seemingly endless nausea, everyday something new but nothing worked.

You sat on the chair after throwing up your old food, Tighnaris ears lowered as he watched your weak stance. "(y/n)?" He whispered, catching your attention, which you hummed in response. "I'm so sorry.." He walked over to you and hugged your frail body, "Just.... whatever you need.. tell me." He said, guilt rushing in his chest. "Nari.... I need to lay with you..." You said with a raspy voice, his ears perked up at your request, "of course."

~8 months in~

You thought four months was bad? No. Currently, you lay on the bed, the same bed you've been laying in for about a week in a half. The pregnancy really took your energy away, in the past you'd be able to join people for small walks, maybe on a good day dinner. But now you could barely get up to use the restroom. Your three children were definitely making themselves at home in your belly.

Tighnari walked over to your laying form and carefully helped you sit up, placing pillows behind you. "Is that comfortable?" He asked softly, causing you to nod. "Good, I've brought you some of the Pita Pockets Collei made, I placed some healing plants to hopefully allow it to stay down." He sat down beside you and unwrapped two of the four Pita Pockets. "Now you tell me which sounds better, Chicken or Shawarma"

~In labor~

A shrieking scream erupted through the village, causing Tighnari and Collei to drop everything they were doing and rush over to his house. Tighari ran into the room only to find your body on the floor in a puddle of blood and fluid. "Fuck" he said. He carefully lifted your body and rushed you to the nursery, placing you on the table. He was going to have to deliver them, you went into labor two weeks earlier than planned.

The birthing process was hell, your screams were loud causing him to get a major headache but he knew you couldn't control it. Luckily though it didn't take too long, with Naris' skills and Colleis assistance in a short 3 hours you were done and you lollied off into a much needed sleep.

You opened your eyes and looked around only to find Tighnaris's body curled into yours. Your movements quickly caused him to rush awake. "(y/n)! How are you? Do you need anything? The kids are in the other room. They're-" his quick speaking was cut off by your small giggle. "You big worry wart, I'm fine Nari, happy to be done with that whole thing.... but-" you stopped yourself, your eyes meeting with his curious earth-tone ones "But?" He repeated a large smile showering your face "I would kill for some of your mushroom soup right now."

Tighnari was a cautious tough loving parent, he would always make sure his three kiddos were safe and if they even dared to eat a suspicious plant oh they would have to face his Wrath. He would often grab the three of them and make flower crowns for you, teaching them different braiding techniques and such. Currently, you sat outside yet again breathing in the natural smell of the Village you called home. Small giggles interrupted you this time, "Hm?" You smiled softly at your three kids, each of them hiding something behind their back. "What's going on now my little devils?" You joked around, and your middle child stepped forward and shoved a small bracelet made of flowers in your hands, your youngest giving you a necklace, and your oldest giving you a crown. "This is beautiful! Oh, you guys are just the cutest aren't you? Help me put them on would you?"

(Bonus: Collei would ALWAYS steal your kids, she was a proud older sister and you never had any arguments against her actions. She would often dance around with them in the forest, always telling them fun stories about Aranaras. And when the green-haired storyteller wasn't there, Uncle Cyno and Aunt Nilou would be. Cyno would always come prepared with fun jokes, causing your youngest to always giggle. Nilou would often dance with Collei and the kids, sometimes even sneaking them some Padisarah Pudding.)

♡♡♡♡♡

Held this off for a while, hopefully it's alright.

[jeysbvck]

it always leads to you (in my hometown)

oh hi, im back after almost a year of not posting fics, and of course it's my main man who pulls me back in! this is my first jey uso fic, so pls comment & reblog & let me know what you think!! i tried to make it angsty, to fit the song more, but i guess that's not the direction my brain wanted to go!!

jey uso x afab!reader

smut, 18+, minors dni!!

word count: 2,420

some people i thought might like this (if you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!): @southerngirl41 @bebesobrielo @harmshake @afterdarkprincess @rollinsland @wrestlezaynia @crxssjae

summary: when you're in town for the holidays, it always ends up with you in jey usos bed for the weekend. this time, it isn't enough, and jey shows you why you can't leave him behind.

You stared out the window, feeling content as you watched the snow fall outside, frost gathering on the glass. You and Jey had spent all weekend in bed, sleeping half the day away and sharing body heat in more ways than one; which is how you spent all the fleeting weekends together. You had so much to do before you left in two days, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave the warm bed, especially when Jey was sleeping beside you, looking like a literal angel.

This had been happening for the last four years and you remembered it all too well; the bewildered, haunted look when Jey locked eyes with you for the first time in years, like he'd seen a ghost. You remembered the ice that ran through every vein in your body when he walked past you without acknowledging you, making you consider whether you were a ghost. You remember lying in your childhood bedroom, old photographs of you and Jey still on your walls, staring down at you, judging you. You knew you'd hurt him when you left, he didn't think your reasons were good enough; but it never crossed your mind that he'd pretend you were a stranger. But as you stared at the posters and photographs on your walls, you realised that you were a stranger now, you didn't recognise the girl in the photographs anymore.

A few days later, you bumped into Jey again, this time you were both alone, walking past the school you used to share, and things seemed different. He opened a dialogue, asked you how you'd been, asked about your life, and before you knew it, you'd been standing in the cold for half an hour. Jey offered you a ride, and you weren't ready for this to end; it felt familiar, but also new. So you accepted and you drove around the small town, commenting on how things hadn't changed. Four hours later, you were in his bed, doing things you had only dreamed about.

You thought it would be a one-off, that maybe the universe was giving you a better goodbye than the first time, a better reunion than the one in the bar. But the next holiday you were in town, he text you, and you ended up in his bed again. Then Jey started surprising you at the airport -sometimes you hadn't even told him what time your flight was- and although he dropped you off at your parents house, it wasn't long before you were spending most of the time with Jey. It was essentially a weekend-long holiday hook up, a way to make you feel less lonely during the holidays and a way to have what could've been -what should've been- if you had just stayed.

Jey stirred in his slumber, retracting his arm that was stretched over you, taking away the warmth and leaving a chill behind, as you pulled the quilt up further, you couldn't help but think of it as a metaphor for how you would feel in a couple of days when you left. You turned your back on the beautiful view outside the window to the -in your totally, unbiased opinion- the more beautiful view next to you. Even after all the years of knowing Jey, he still took your breath away, he still set your heart ablaze. Every time you were here, you took every opportunity to mentally record every detail of him to take back with you. Every new grey hair, every tattoo, every laughter line, every perfect imperfections, you took it all in. You basked in the warmth, the comfort, the happiness that you felt in this bed, knowing it would all be over in a flash.

"Mornin' babe," Jey said, with a sleepy smile, "you're watchin' me sleep, forgot you were a creep."

You hummed in response as you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his pillow-like lips. "And I forgot you snore." You teased, and Jey scoffed, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Such a liar." He mumbled against your lips and you smiled, pulling away and finding your place on his chest. Your fingertips traced the lines of his intricate tattoo on his chest, as his stroked your back, soothingly.

The time you spent with Jey, in this bed, the room, the house; felt like a different world. Like reality as you know it didn't exist here, it was just you and Jey, and nothing else mattered. You hated leaving, you hated getting on the plane, going back to your life like you hadn't just left the warmest place you'd ever known.

"So..." Jey started, and you knew what was coming. The dreaded question that he asked every time. "How long we got? Until you-"

You cut him off, not wanting the words to be said, as if it somehow wouldn't happen if Jey didn't speak it into the universe. "I know what you mean, Jey." You sighed. "Can't we just stay in this bubble for a little longer?"

"How much longer? Like, you wanna talk later, over dinner? Or how about the mornin' of your flight so we barely get to say goodbye?" He snapped, and you scoffed at the outburst. "Ay, you're the one who-"

"Okay," you cut him off before he finished the sentence, sitting up and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing the robe that had been thrown on the floor the night before as you stood up and pulled it over your body. "You really wanna spend the time arguing?"

"No! I jus'-" Jey groaned and turned on his side, his elbow resting on the mattress. "Okay listen, I know our whole thing; no stayin', no waitin', but-"

"No Jey, this works!" You lied. You knew you were trying to convince him more than yourself, because you knew it wasn't working. If it did, leaving him wouldn't break your heart, you wouldn't spend the year counting down to the next holiday. Nobody in your life knew you like Jey. They didn't know which smiles you were faking, or which laughs were genuine. They didn't even know your coffee order, or your favourite film.

"This works for you? This is enough for you?" Jey asked. "Because it isn't for me."

You bit your lips, you'd expected this every time, you knew it would happen eventually. Jey was always going to find someone who could give him more than you could offer.

"What are you saying?" You asked. "You don't-you wanna end this?"

Jey got his knees and shuffled towards you, leaning up and cupping your face with his hands, his eyes level with yours. "I don't wanna end this." He said. "I wanna be with you."

"Jey," you whispered, hoping he could see in your eyes how much love you have for him. "I can't- We can't-"

"Ay, just listen." Jey said. "What if I came wit' you?"

You stared at him, speechless, your face still in his hands. "That's not funny."

"It ain't supposed to be funny."

"Stop it. You can't just say stuff like this, not in here, not like this when we're all caught up in the bubble!" You said, throwing your hands around. "You have your family here, a life here, you're just gonna leave it all behind?!"

"Didn't stop you." Jey retorted, and you rolled your eyes.

"That was different! I didn't pack up my life to follow someone across the country!" He smirked at you, making you roll your eyes a second time.

"Ay, you think highly of yourself, don't ya?" He joked, but you groaned and pulled his hands away from your face, putting your own over your face. "What if I ain't doin' it for you? What if I'm doin' it for me?" He asked. He pulled your hands from your face and held them. "I know you tell me not to, but I wait, babe. I wait for you to call, to text, I ask your parents when you're comin', so I can wait at the airport for you. I don't wanna wait anymore, I wanna be wit' you, for real, and you can't stay."

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to let yourself smile, and you turned your back on him, sitting back down on the bed. He was saying all the right things, wearing your favourite smile, and it was hard to be logical right now. This was never an option, because what if he ended up resenting you? Having Jey sporadically in your life through the year was better than the alternative.

Jey ran his hands up and down your arms, planting little kisses on your shoulder and neck. "Jus' think about it, babe." He whispered in your ear as he kissed your neck. "We can have more than jus' weekends." His hands slid over your skin, grazing your breasts as he followed a path down to your stomach, sending shivers through your whole body. "We can do this-" His hand slipped into your underwear, teasing you. "-whenever we want."

You tilted your head back, leaning it against his shoulder as he nibbled your neck, and you hummed, bucking your hips in an attempt to get his fingers exactly where you needed them. He clicked his tongue before he dug his teeth into your neck, a moan escaping your mouth as his fingers teased your entrance.

His hard cock was pressed against your back, and as he played and teased you, you reached around and grabbed his cock. He rutted against your hand, moaning into your neck as you stroked the long length, the action making him push two fingers inside you. They moved inside you, matching the pace of your hand on his cock; when you slowed down, he did, and when you quickened the pace, he did too.

Jey upped the ante, his thumb flicking over your clit, making your hips buck, your grip on his cock tightening, making it twitch. Jey groaned into your shoulder, and when you ran your thumb over his tip, he pulled away from your hand. "Nah, you're gonna make me cum." He mumbled into your shoulder. He kissed your skin again, before pulling his fingers out of your cunt, making you whimper pathetically. You watched as he slipped off the bed and pushed you backwards on the bed before getting on his knees. "Gotta remind you what you'll be missin' if you leave without me." He smirked, burying his head in between your legs.

You moaned loudly as he flattened his tongue against your cunt, slowly licking every part of you. He quickened the pace, and just as you arched your hips, he pinned them against the bed, while pushing two fingers inside you, his tongue flicking and sucking your clit. This was euphoric, you writhed underneath him as he drove you wild. Jey knew exactly what he was doing and his plan was working, you knew that he could ask you for anything right now -doing that thing with his tongue- you'd say yes to anything and everything.

"So wet for me." He muttered against you, nibbling the inside of your thigh as he fucked you with his fingers. All you could do was gasp and moan as he didn't give you a moment to breathe, sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue. You tried to hold out, to delay your orgasm, but it wasn't long before you let yourself go, bundling the sheets in your hands as your thighs gripped his head.

Jey pulled back and crawled up your body, his thick, hard cock grazing your cunt, making your body twitch. He grinned down at you, his beard glistening with your juices, his dark eyes full of lust and you pulled him down by the chain around his neck for a kiss, your tongues dancing with each other as you ran your hands down his toned back. He rubbed his cock against your cunt, and you bucked your hips against him. "Fuck me, Jey." You managed to gasp, and he grinned at you, his eyes darkening more. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he pushed his cock inside you, moaning with you as your cunt tightened around him.

Your moans were lost in Jeys mouth as your bodies rocked together, your kisses getting rougher and more passionate. His free hand playing with your breasts, switching between them, refusing to let your hands free. "Such a good girl, takin' my cock like this." He grunted and you threw your head back as he attacked your neck once again. Your orgasm was bubbling up inside you, your legs beginning to shake as he fucked you harder and deeper, his own orgasm imminent. He brought his lips back to yours, the kiss slower, but not less passionate, and when he let go of your hands to grip your hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

"Shit, baby, I'm so close." He groaned, burying his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts getting harder. You rolled your hips making his cock twitch inside you, and in all the bliss and passion as your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, three words slipped out of your mouth.

"Come with me." You whispered, nibbling his earlobe. "So close." He repeated, and you grabbed his head, making him look at you.

"No Jey, come with me." You said, and he looked in your eyes, he flashed you that beautiful smile -one that could light up a starless night sky. You nodded, and he kissed you, just as his own orgasm hit, and he thrusted into you a few more times, his moans being caught by your mouth.

He dropped onto you; his body like a welcome weighted blanket, and you wrapped your arms around him as he lay on your chest. "Did ya mean it?" He asked quietly. You ran your fingers through his hair, and thought about what you said. You hadn't meant to say it, especially in that moment, it had just slipped out. You also hadn't meant to confirm it was in fact, what you meant. But you meant it with your whole heart, and you knew as soon as Jey voiced it as an option, you knew you couldn't leave him behind again.

"I mean it, Jey. I've never meant anything more."