#this isn’t proofread that closely so if there are any mistakes I’m sorry

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: Sex. Minors DNI. Also, barely proofread, sorry for any mistakes!

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 3.8k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 1, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Sorry it has taken me a while to get this part out. But I think you’ll like it. *fingers crossed* FULL TAGLIST TO FOLLOW. Sorry, I'm in a rush today. This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part 4.5 | Part Five | Masterlist

A fancy hotel takeout sits untouched on your kitchen counter, the smell of roasted garlic filling the small space. You glance at the clock—6:47 PM.

Yoongi promised to take you to dinner, but given the circumstances, a quiet night in felt more appropriate. Safer for him. After all, the media has been relentless since the Dispatch scandal dropped close to midnight like Cinderella’s kitten heel at the ball.

You’re kind of pissed, actually. Scratch that—you’re furious. Just when it felt like you finally had Yoongi—finally had the chance to explore whatever this was between you—this bullshit had to rear its ugly head. A photo of his kind of ex leaving his building was enough to set the internet on fire, and now it felt like the flames were creeping dangerously close to your life.

You’ve talked to him once today, and even that conversation was clipped. A text from him at 5 let you know he was about to leave HYBE and swing by his place first. “Be there by 7,” he’d said.

You stare at the pristine takeout containers, willing yourself not to spiral. You’re not that person anymore. You’re not the insecure girl who lets her emotions run wild over things she can’t control. You’ve done too much good work to let this unravel you.

“You’re fine. You’re fucking fine,” you mutter under your breath, pacing the kitchen.

Your phone vibrates on the counter. Namjoon. Always coming to your rescue at the right time.

“Hello?”

“You doin’ okay?” Namjoon asks, his voice calm but laced with concern.

“Define okay,” you quip, though your voice wavers slightly. “It’s been a lot.”

“I figured,” Namjoon says gently. “That’s why I’m calling. Just wanted to check in. Yoongi’s been swamped today, and I know how this stuff can mess with your head.”

You exhale slowly, grateful for the concern but also acutely aware of the simmering emotions just beneath the surface. “I’m trying, Joon. Really, I am. It’s just… exhausting. The waiting, the overthinking, the noise. I just want to know where I stand with him, you know?”

“He’ll tell you,” Namjoon assures you, his voice steady. “Just… don’t let the noise get to you.”

You swallow hard, his words striking a chord. “Thanks, Joon. Really.”

“Anytime,” he says warmly. “And hey, take it easy on him tonight, okay? He’s under a lot of pressure, but trust me, you’re his priority.”

“Will do, dad,” you tease, and for the first time all day, you feel a flicker of lightness.

“Bye.”

You set the phone down, Namjoon’s words lingering in your mind as you glance at the clock again. 

You think about Yoongi and the kind of pressure he must be feeling now. You can take care of him tonight. He deserves it.

You’re rearranging the pillows on the couch, trying not to glance at the clock again for the hundredth time. It’s not even about tidying the place anymore. It’s about occupying your hands, distracting yourself from the swirling mix of emotions in your chest.

Then, the doorbell rings.

7:01pm. 

You take a breath, smoothing your sweater. Calm. Casual. You’re fine.

You open the door.

And there he is. Yoongi stands in the dim light of the hallway, a dark jacket zipped up to his collarbone, a black mask shading his face, somehow directing the focus on the exhaustion in his eyes. But what caught your attention is his hair—slicked back with a little sprout of inky locks on top.

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking bashful at the heat in your gaze.

Christ. He looks good. Criminally.

He steps in. “Hi,” he says softly, his voice carrying that calm rasp you’ve missed.

Your heart clenches. “Hi,” you reply, your tone quieter than intended. You clear your throat, stepping back to let him in. “Come in.”

He steps inside, pausing in the entryway as he glances around. 

You then notice the bouquet in his hand—gorgeous white roses and baby’s breath wrapped in brown paper. 

He hesitates, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes flick over your face. Something in your expression must’ve softened, because he quickly averts his gaze.

“I brought these,” he says, holding them out a little awkwardly.

Your chest tightens, a strange warmth spreading through you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

When you reach out to take the bouquet, your fingers graze his, and the contact lingers for just a second too long. Impulsively, your free hand rises to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s too much for whatever the hell this is between you, but the moment feels too honest to stop yourself.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

Yoongi freezes under your touch, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly. Then, as if the tension in his shoulders breaks all at once, he leans into your palm, just a fraction, and the smallest, most heartbreaking smile tugs at his lips as his eyes flutter close.

“I am now.”

You head to the kitchen, busying yourself with a vase to give the flowers the best chance to survive. You do not have a green thumb, so you pray to the gods the beautiful arrangement does not wither overnight.

“Hungry?” you ask, not turning around. “I bought chicken, shrimp fried rice, and some random banchan.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Yoongi replies, his voice closer than you expect. You glance back to find him leaning against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression.

You place the vase on the counter and fold your arms. “So,” you start, forcing lightness into your tone. “Survived the day?”

“Barely,” he admits, a tired smirk tugging at his lips. “Had to dodge more cameras than usual. Sat in meetings for a couple of hours. Si-hyuk personally called Sung Kyung’s agency. They assured me that they will investigate thoroughly. I couldn’t eat. I get home and there’s still press camping out. So yeah, shit day and I almost didn’t make it out alive.”

“That’s the longest response I’ve ever gotten from you.” You tease. “You really must be stressed out.”

Yoongi chuckles and for a moment, it feels like the tension that’s been hanging over you both all day melts away. 

You go around the counter and stand facing him where he’s sitting on your bar stool. He parts his legs and you immediately take that space, crowding him a bit more by placing your hands tentatively on his shoulder.

His eyes, warm like molten chocolate, meet yours. “How about you?”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling a little exposed. “I’m fine,” you say, though the tightness in your chest betrays you. “I mean, it’s not like this is new territory for you, right?”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” Yoongi says quietly. “And I don’t like that you’re sort of affected by it.”

“I can handle it,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel, projecting strength since he looks a little broken right now.

Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line, like he’s not entirely convinced. 

“I kinda knew what I was getting into when I knocked in your studio yesterday,” you say softly. “And I’d do it again. For you.”

His eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his face at your admission before it softens into something else. Something deeper. “For me?”

You nod, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Yeah. For you.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Then he straightens up from his slouch, taking one of your hands from his shoulder, pressing his lips softly against your pulse point.

“Dinner first,” he says. 

“Then what?” you challenge.

Yoongi just grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

As you sip the last of your drink, you steel yourself to ask the question that’s been bugging you all day. “So,” you say finally, broaching the topic. “Sung Kyung.”

Yoongi pauses mid-bite, his eyes flicking to yours. He sets his chopsticks down carefully, leaning back in his chair. “What about her?”

You take a steadying breath, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “Namjoon told me you’re co-parenting. But I need to hear where you two… stand?”

Yoongi exhales slowly. “Yeah, we’re co-parenting. That’s it. I don’t have any intention of getting back together with her. At all.” His voice is calm but firm, leaving no room for doubt. “I want Haneul to know his biological mom, but she and I—we’re done. That’s been over.”

Relief washes over you, but before you can fully settle into it, you notice the shift in his expression. His jaw tightens, and his eyes dart briefly to the table before returning to yours.

“There’s something else,” he says quietly, the words heavy with hesitation.

Fuck. You don’t like the sound of it, but you ask anyway. “What is it?”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “A few weeks ago… she kissed me.”

Your stomach twists, and the room feels suddenly colder. “What?”

“I put a stop to it immediately,” he says quickly, his tone insistent. “I told her it couldn’t happen again, that if she wanted to keep seeing Han, she had to respect that boundary. And she has. She knows where we stand.”

You don’t respond right away, staring down at your plate as you try to process his words. 

Oh my god. This is so fucked up. You knew Sung Kyung’s reappearance wasn’t as harmless as it seemed, but hearing it confirmed still stings.

“I just thought…” you start, but the words trail off.

Yoongi’s voice is soft but steady. “You have every right to be upset.”

“Do I?” You think out loud. “We’re not…” You nod slowly, pushing your chair back. “I… need a minute.”

When you get to your bathroom, you release a long steadying breath. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, hands gripping the counter tightly. Fuck. You’re okay. This is–

A knock sounds at the door, startling you.

Yoongi’s voice is muffled as he says your name, but it’s gentle as can be. “Can I come in?”

You glance at the lock and realize, too late, that you forgot to turn it. The door creaks open, and there he is, standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and something softer.

He steps inside, closing the door behind him and his arms immediately slide around your waist. The warmth of his touch seeps into you, and you meet his gaze through the mirror.

“Hey,” he murmurs against your hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You lean back against him, the tension in your shoulders easing but just slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“That’s fair,” he presses his lips to your temple. 

“But I need you to know–” presses another on your cheek.

“That I don’t want anyone else–” presses the last where your neck and shoulders meet. 

“Just you.”

Your heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice, and when your eyes meet again in the mirror, the tenderness there leaves you so breathless.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you turn in his arms, your hands sliding up to his face as you pull him down for a kiss. His fingers tighten on your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

You walk back to your bed, lips fused with his, your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair. The urgency between you grows as you push him down onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets with a quiet thud. You follow immediately, straddling him, your body molding against his as you capture his lips again. The kiss is deep, consuming, his hands gripping your waist like he’s anchoring himself to you.

You stay like that for a while, tongues teasing, breaths mingling, drunk in the taste of each other. Then, a sharp pull of his lower lip between your teeth has him groaning into your mouth.

You’re driven by lust, and something else. A possessive demon seems to be overriding your better judgment, thinking you’ve been timid with your feelings for long enough. No woman, not Sung Kyung, even if he is Han’s mom, can take what you and Yoongi have been building up to for so damn long.

“You’re in your head,” Yoongi says, nudging his nose against yours.

“Did she kiss you like this, huh?” The words leave you before you can stop them. Your lips return to his, sucking greedily, staking your claim.

Yoongi’s breath shudders as you pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “No, baby.” His voice is rough, lips pink and swollen.

Your fingers slide under his shirt, pushing the fabric up and over his head, tossing it aside before your hands explore the newly exposed skin. He’s warm, toned beneath your touch, and the way his muscles tense under your fingertips only spurs you further. You lean down, lips dragging along his jawline, open-mouthed kisses trailing down his throat. He tastes sweet, salty, and entirely intoxicating.

“Did you fuck anyone else when I left?” you mumble against his skin, your teeth grazing the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

His breath hitches, “No, shit. No.”

“Good boy.” You hum in satisfaction, your lips venturing lower, your tongue flicking against the hollow of his throat. He groans, head pressing back into the pillow.

“Baby, you’re making me lose my shit right now,” he grits out, his voice strained, desperate. His hands now get braver, sliding underneath your top to fondle your tits. 

Maybe you’re delirious. Maybe you’re too turned on to think straight. Or maybe—maybe this is exactly what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him again.

Your hand drifts down, fingers tracing the outline of his hard length through his trousers, feeling the way he twitches under your palm. 

“You’re mine, okay?” you whisper, nipping at his bottom plush as your fingers give his dick a squeeze.

He exhales a shaky laugh, his lips curving under yours. “Yours.”

He lets you revel in your greed for a few moments, allowing you to do whatever you pleased as you lose yourself in the heat building between you.

He ruts up towards your hand, grunting slightly. Honestly, he’s so hard, it’d be a mercy to release him from the confines of his jeans. So you do, helping him unbutton, unzip, and undress, until his cock springs free and flops on his stomach.

What a pretty dick. Literally lickable—solid, girthy, veiny, a bead of white pooling at the slit. You take him in your mouth, tracing the tip with your tongue, the taste of pre-cum coating your throat. You let drool cascade down his length, slick fingers pumping his shaft while your mouth suctions his mushroom head.

His hand goes to the back of your neck, guiding you in a bit more. “Mmm… that’s it, baby.” 

Yoongi moans your name as you go faster. You feel him twitching inside your mouth. He’s so hard but you don’t want him to cum yet. You pop him off to lap at the base, before your tongue travels upward to trace the thick veins on the underside of his cock. 

Jaw slack, his eyes are dark, dark as he observes you while propped up on his elbows. “Come up,” he says when you reluctantly pull away. “Wanna eat you out.”

Your clothes are yanked off your body as you take his place on the cushions, not a single piece of fabric now separating your skin. He takes you by the hip and adjusts your position so he can get his face close to your mound. Before you can mentally prepare yourself, he shoves his hot tongue against your folds, locating your clit in 0.001 seconds and you know you’ll be careening off a cliff in no time.

“I—Yoongi, that’s… shit that’s nice.” You can’t help it. It does feel nice.

You reach for the little ponytail on his head, gripping it for dear life. He hums against your bud when you pull, the vibrations only driving you more insane.

“You taste so good baby,” he mumbles.

“Yeah?”

“I can eat you out for days, make you cum,” he vows, delirious just like you are. “Over and over… my favorite fuckin’ snack.” 

“Oh my god, Yoongi…”

He feasts, and feasts, and soon enough, you’re shuddering in ecstasy, hips bucking in the process, as he slurps all you give him. He wears your cum like a gloss as he comes up for air, a lazy but proud smile on his face.

You reach for the drawer on your nightstand and pull out a new, sealed, and unopened box of condoms shoving it on his chest. He holds it in one hand, nose scrunching as he suppresses a laugh.

“Someone prepared…”

You shrug as he plucks one and unwraps it quickly, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re too cute for me.”

“Shut uppp.”

He rolls the condom on his dick, propping one hand by the side of your face as he uses the other to rub his blunt tip against your entrance. Your pussy is drenched and he slips right in and bottoms out with a grunt against your ear. He’s thick and big against your walls.

A smack against your ass cheeks makes you clench. “Ah, shit.” And another one lands before he soothes it with a gentle massage. 

You’re going crazy but you need him deeper. Sensing your needs, Yoongi pushes the back of your knees higher and snaps his hips with more force, pounding your pussy as your bed creaks against the wall. Your lids are heavy but you keep your eyes open long enough to see how fucked out he looks, cheeks flushed pink with a coat of sheen on his forehead, teeth caging his lower lip.

“You’re so hot. I wanna ride you,” you declare, stuttering a bit from his thrusts.

“Yeah?” He pants, slows the roll of his hips, waiting for your confirmation. 

When you nod, he slips off with a wince and you feel your juices trickle down your skin. You reverse positions, mattress dipping as you shift your knees on each side of his hips. 

“Do your thing, baby,” he urges, lacing his fingers behind his head, elbows bent outward in a relaxed pose.

Your smile is watery as you use his tip to prod against your clit one or twice before you sink him inside your wet heat. You moan in unison when you're fully seated, the feeling of him snug and warm and so full inside you driving you mad.

You tip your head back, palms planted against his chest as you swivel your hips in a slow dance. 

You look down on him, hair cascading over your shoulder, and you think how much you like this view. And how you won't mind this view everyday, actually. Seems the possessive streak from earlier still has not satiated. 

“Shit—you’re so hot like this.” 

You rock against him, clit stimulated deliciously as you ride his cock. He’s got a cocky little grin as you use him. You throw your ass back, and he has a front row seat and VIP access to your bouncing tits, his tongue slack on the side of his lips. He cups your tits with both hands, the wet pads of his thumbs rubbing against your nipples.

“My turn,” he grabs hold of your waist and thrusts upward so roughly your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He pistons into you, finger digging on your skin to keep you in place and a long moan rips from your throat when he jerks up particularly hard.

Your hands slip to his shoulder as your body bounces by the force of his movements, tits sliding against his chest. His thighs must be burning and when he slightly lets up, you dip your head, shamelessly to lick the side of his face, moaning his name against his ear. 

“Baby—” you beg, not really saying what you need, but he knows.

He uses a sweaty hand to guide a tit in his mouth, suckling at it with a bit of teeth. 

Not a moment later, he’s fucking you again from below, deeper, faster, and when rapidly presses into your sweet spot, you’re a goner.

“I’m close, Yoongi. So close…”

“Me too, baby,” his voice is rough as he lets go of your bruised nipple, brows furrowed in concentration like he is fully intent to give you the orgasm of your life. He pushes into your depth relentlessly, 

White hot heat is blooming inside you, and you feel his cock throb, abs tightening, before he spills his seed in the condom, groaning with his eyes shut to savor the intensity of his release. It’s the pure unadulterated pleasure painted on his face and his deep delicious moan that tips you over the edge, too, clenching against his solidness as you slip into the sinful pleasure of your orgasm.

Chest to chest, you rest your full weight against him, softening dick still nestled inside you. You press your lips against his neck, feeling the vibrations of his throaty chuckle. Then he asks, “Was it good?”

“So good.”

“Mm.” He hums, nosing the side of your face so you’d look at him. “Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

“Which one?”

“That you, uh, despite everything, you’d do it again, for me.”

You start to feel a bit shy, but then you remember you’re literally naked. On top of him. And he is still inside you. The point of bashfulness is long past. It’s time for the truth. “Yeah.”

“Bold of you, no?”

“Dumb, too.”

He pushes an errant hair behind your ear, eyes still glazed from the sex, but fond. “You know I really like you, right? If it isn’t painfully obvious.”

“Me too, Yoongi. Since Stan. Maybe even earlier.”

“Will you be my girl, then?”

Yoongi watches you carefully, waiting for your response. The earnest curve of his lips, the slight scrunch of his nose, the way his fingers still rest on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away—it’s all so achingly real.

You study him for a moment, letting yourself take it in. Everything about him—his caring nature, his tenderness, his immense love for Han, his ability to drive you absolutely insane and still make you feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

The outside world is still in chaos. The scandal, the noise, the questions that neither of you have all the answers to yet. But here, in your little apartment, wrapped in the warmth of him, none of that feels as important as this.

“I will,” you finally say, voice steady.

His breath catches, just for a second. Then, his lips spread into the softest, gummiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, almost like he’s making sure he heard you right.

You nod, “Yeah.”

Your lips meet for a gentle kiss that feels like a promise and the rest of the world falls away. For now, no matter what comes next, it’s the two of you—finally honest, finally sure, and finally together.

:]

A/N: YASSSS. Our babies have finally figured it out. How do you feel right now? Would love to hear your comments! 

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! Xo

P.S. Am gunning for 1,000 followers before Yoongi’s birthday. :) I think I’ll get there with your help. Feel free to reblog the story if you like, and that can help more people find our lovely L&L couple.

Love you!~

Permanent Taglist (Part 1)

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

The rest to follow in a reblog.

[gracestuurn]

heyyy, I'm just thinking about subby matt after a long day. basically cockwarming him leads to lazy soft sex if your comfortable writing that x

➥ Warming up

Sub! Matt x Reader

Warnings: cockwarming, slow lazy sex, fluff, nickname use of ‘baby, mama.’

A/N: if planning on taking any inspiration from my work, credit would be super appreciated xo

A/N 2: this is the first request I’ve written like ever so I hope this is okay and this was just my take on the request. Another thing this isn’t proofread so if there’s any grammar mistakes I’m sorry I lost my glasses.

Mine and Matt’s day had been long and tiring, we had left so many things last minute until we were rushing around trying to do twenty things at once.

We finally returned home, our shared apartment, cold, because of the crisp autumn weather.

Matt flopped down, tiredly, onto the couch as I followed after.

I felt him shiver beside me.

“You cold baby?”

He nodded his head as he nuzzled closer to me, looking up at me with his soft, sleepy blue eyes.

We had both had a long day, our heating was once again, broken.

I had one last resort.

That’s where I found myself on Matt’s lap, my plush thighs pressing against his as I impaled myself onto his cock slowly.

A soft hiss left his lips as my warmth surrounded him.

I gave his lips a soft peck.

He leant into the kiss, deepening it ever so slightly before pulling back with a content sigh.

He rested his head on my shoulder, his breathing slowing and evening out as he relaxes completely into my embrace.

“I love you, mama.” His voice muffled against my skin as he spoke.

I ran my hand through his soft brunette locks.

“You warming up now baby?”

He nods his head slightly, moving slightly as he tries to nuzzle even more into my neck.

A string of small barely noticeable whimpers leave his lips ass he moves.

“N..need you mama.” He moaned desperately, his hands gripping my hips.

I giggle softly as I begin slowly moving my hips, his breath hitches as I slowly ride him, letting me take full control. He buries his face into a couch pillow, muffling his soft moans and whimpers.

“Mph..you feel so good..don’t stop.” He moaned.

I continue slowly, lazily rolling my hips against his.

More strings of moans and whimpers fell from his lips.

His hands slid up to my tits, gently cupping them.

“C..can I?” He pleads, looking up at me.

I nod my head as I continue slowly lazily rocking my hips.

He leans up, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as his hands continue to explore my body.

“I love your tits..” He whispers against my skin, his cock throbbing inside of me as he speaks.

He leans back, watching me with hooded eyes as I ride him.

“Please keep going..just like that..” He whispers, his hands sliding down to my thighs to guide my movements.

His breath begins to hitch as I pick up the pace slightly.

“Mmm..just like that..”

I moan softly as his dick hits just the right spot, his grip on my thighs tightens as his breathing grows faster.

“You’re.. so.. good..” He hisses, his words punctuated by his quickening breaths.

His hips slightly rise to meet mine as I continue to ride him.

“M’so..close..” He whimpers.

“Hold it for me baby, I want you to cum with me.” I whisper as I slightly nip at his ear.

He bites his lip and nods, his hands clutching my thighs as he tries to hold back.

“With.. you..” He pants, his face contorted with effort, his fingers digging into my thighs.

“Just a little longer.” I say between soft moans as I move my hips up and down his length.

“You’re doing amazing.” I whisper in his ear as I peck his lips.

He whimpers softly, his face still contorted as he tries to hold back.

“P-please..now..” He begs, his voice barely a whisper.

His body is taut, his muscles coiled and ready to snap.

“C-can’t..hold back much longer.” He whines, pressing his face into the crook of my neck.

“Now baby..you can cum now.” I moan softly, his cock hitting just the right angle to send me into release.

I moan his name softly as I clench around his length.

His face relaxes, his expression overcome with pleasure as he finally lets go.

“C-coming now..love you..” he stammers, his words slurring together.

His hips thrust upwards as he spills into you, his whole body shaking and convulsing with the force of his release.

“God..I love you so much.” He mummers again.

I help ride out his orgasm, the room filling with the sound of our soft pants as we regain composure.

“You did amazing.” I whisper affectionately, nuzzling my nose against his.

He nuzzles back, his arms wrapping around me tightly as he catches his breath.

“M-Mm..thank..you.” He whispers, his voice hoarse.

He presses his face against my neck, kissing and biting gently.

“S-stay like this.”

After cleaning up and putting on some clean, comfy clothes me and Matt decided to spend the rest of the day watching movies and cuddling.

A/N 3: have a great rest of your day xo

Tag list: (none yet)

[tokkiwrites]

Hi 💗 first of all, I just discovered your tumblr and I already love your work <3 I’m not sure if this is the way to request, but I’d like to request a kraven one shot, where he is absolutely in love with reader but because of a misunderstanding he breaks up with her in a mean but hot way, then he finds out about the truth and tries to get her pardon, ofc I’d love me some angst, smut and dom kraven 🥺🥺 thank you

▪︎summary: You’re a film producer with a busy schedule, and your boyfriend Sergei’s insecurities lead to a heated fight. After realizing his mistake, he goes all out to win you back, proving just how much you mean to him.

▪︎tags: established relationship, kind of toxic sergei imo, a bit of angst, afab reader, p in v, creampie, belly bulge (??), size kink if you squint, fingering reader receiving, makeup sex, a few pet names, mean (slightly) dom sergei.

▪︎first fic of the year!!! thank you for this request!!! it's been sitting in my drafts for a long while, so sorry for making you wait. it has 2.45k words & and it's not proofread, so if you see any errors, no, u didn't !! i hope you enjoy <3

The air in your apartment was thick with tension. You sat on the leather couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, waiting for him to return from yet another one of his late-night escapades. It wasn’t unusual for Sergei to disappear without much explanation; his life as a hunter—of men, animals, and vengeance—demanded it. But lately, he’d been colder, distant in a way that left you feeling like a stranger in your own relationship.

When the door finally opened, his broad frame filled the entryway. His face, shadowed by the dim light of the city outside, was unreadable. "You’re home late." you said softly, setting your phone down. He closed the door behind him with deliberate slowness, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. "We need to talk."

Your stomach tightened. "What’s going on?"

"I found something," he said, pulling a small, crumpled note from his pocket and tossing it onto the coffee table. You glanced at it, confused. It was one of your old grocery lists. "What about it?"

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I saw the address written on the back. A warehouse in the docks. Care to explain why you were there?" You blinked, trying to recall. "That was weeks ago. I picked up some things for work— props for the shoot. I told you about it."

"No, what you told me was that you were with your team. But I asked around. Your team never uses that place." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made your skin prickle.

"Sergei, what are you getting at?"

"I think you’ve been hiding something," he said, stepping closer. "I’ve seen this before. People lying, playing both sides, thinking they can outsmart me." Your chest tightened with frustration. "Are you serious right now? You think I’m involved in…what? Some conspiracy? Smuggling?"

"Don’t." His voice dropped, dangerously low. "Don’t play innocent. I saw you meeting someone there— a man."

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. Then it clicked. "Oh my God. You’re talking about Steve, aren’t you? He’s my set designer! He was helping me load props for the commercial."

"Steve," he repeated, skeptical.

"Yes, Steve! Sergei, do you think I have some secret life I’m keeping from you? Do you really think I’d risk everything for…for what, exactly?"

He didn’t answer, his jaw tightening.

"Unbelievable," you muttered, standing. "You’ve been pulling away for weeks, acting like I’m the problem, and now I find out it’s because you think I’m some kind of criminal?"

"You’ve lied before," he said, his voice softer but still firm.

You froze. "That’s what this is about, isn’t it? The one time I didn’t tell you I was scared on one of your hunts, and now you think I’m some kind of liar."

Sergei ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "Trust is not something I give lightly. And once it’s broken—"

"Once it’s broken, what? You punish me forever?" Your voice cracked. "I’ve been trying so hard to be there for you, to understand your life, and this is how you repay me?"

His silence was answer enough.

You grabbed your coat, the tears burning in your eyes now impossible to hold back. "You know what, Sergei? If you can’t trust me by now, maybe you don’t deserve me," you said, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. You shoved past him, grabbing your bag from the counter. "I’m done trying to prove myself to someone who’s determined to see the worst in me."

He didn’t stop you. He just stood there, the weight of your words settling into the room like a physical presence.

When the door slammed behind you, Sergei was left alone with his thoughts, the silence deafening. His instincts, honed through years of hunting and survival, were screaming at him that he had made a mistake. But pride held him back from chasing after you.

Days passed, and Sergei couldn’t get you out of his head. Every corner of his apartment reminded him of you—the mug you always used, the blanket you insisted on leaving draped over the couch, your perfume faintly lingering in the air.

But what haunted him most was the look in your eyes when you left. Hurt. Betrayed.

It wasn’t until he found himself back at the docks that everything began to unravel. He wasn’t there to check on you or verify his suspicions— he was there to work, tracking a lead on a smuggling operation tied to his latest hunt.

And that’s when he saw the warehouse you’d mentioned. Inside, he spotted Steve, the “man” he had been so suspicious of, overseeing a crew as they dismantled what appeared to be a film set. Lights, props, and equipment were being packed into cases.

“Perfect timing!” Steve called out when he spotted Sergei lingering by the entrance. “We just wrapped. Your girl's idea for the shoot went off without a hitch.”

Sergei’s stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Steve said, grinning. “She practically ran this whole project. She even came out here herself to supervise when we couldn’t get everything transported in time. Total lifesaver.”

Sergei’s heart sank. The anger he’d held onto for days evaporated, replaced by a crushing guilt. He had been so consumed by his doubts and paranoia that he’d completely misjudged you.

“Where is she now?” Sergei asked, his voice rough.

Steve shrugged. “Last I heard, she was taking some time off. Said she needed a break.”

It took Sergei two more days to track you down. You had retreated to a quiet café on the other side of town, tucked into a corner booth with a notebook and a cup of tea. When you saw him approach, your expression hardened. “What are you doing here?”

"Love, Iㅡ” he said, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft. “I made a mistake.”

“You think?” you shot back, closing your notebook with a sharp snap. “I was wrong,” he continued, sitting across from you despite your obvious reluctance. “I let my fears and suspicions cloud my judgment. I accused you of something you didn’t do, and I pushed you away because of it.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Why are you really here, Sergei? To ease your guilt? Or to make yourself feel better about what you said to me?”

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m here because I love you. And because I can’t stand the thought of losing you over my own stupidity.”

Your breath hitched, but you refused to let yourself melt just yet. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? How little you must think of me to believe I’d do something like that?”

He reached across the table, his hand hovering over yours. “I don’t think little of you. I think too much of you. I’ve lost so much in my life. People I trusted. People I loved. And when I thought I might lose you too…” He swallowed hard. “I panicked. I lashed out. I was wrong.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, the raw sincerity in his eyes breaking through your defenses. “Do you know how exhausting it is, Sergei, to always feel like I’m on trial with you?”

“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “And I promise you, I will do better. I will earn back your trust—if you’ll let me.” You hesitated, the walls around your heart crumbling piece by piece. “One more chance,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “But if you screw this up again, Sergei…”

“I won’t,” he said quickly, his hand finally closing over yours. “I won’t.”

As he held your gaze, the faintest flicker of hope warmed your chest. You weren’t ready to forgive him completely, but for now, you were willing to try.

And for Sergei, that was enough. "Let's go home?" he finally asks. You look up at him, and you can't contain a smile. "Sure. Let's go home..."

As Sergei unlocked the door to his loft, you stepped inside and froze. The space, usually dark and utilitarian, was transformed. Soft warm light bathed the room, illuminating dozens of vases filled with vibrant flowers. Roses, lilies, tulips, every kind you could imagine. A faint, delicate fragrance hung in the air, calming and intoxicating all at once.

Your hand flew to your mouth, your eyes

wide. "Sergei.. what is this?" He shut the door behind him, watching you with a soft smile. "A gesture," he said simply. You turned to him, a mix of awe and confusion on your face. "How did you know I'd forgive you?"

His smile grew faintly sad, his sharp features softened by vulnerability. "I didn't." He took a step closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms. "But I wanted you to know what you mean to me. Even if you walked away for good."

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. You looked back at the flowers, the effort he had put into creating this moment, and you felt the last of your anger dissolve.

Reaching out, you picked up a bouquet of white roses from the coffee table and cradled them against your chest. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

He chuckled, his hands sliding down to take yours, the flowers between you. "Maybe." You laughed softly, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. Looking up into his piercing blue eyes, you saw the Sergei you had fallen in love with: the fierce, unyielding hunter who was willing to bare his heart for you.

Unable to hold back any longer, you leaned up and kissed him. His lips met yours hungrily, his hands pulling you closer as if to make sure you wouldn't slip away again. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, igniting a fire in your core that burned away every lingering doubt

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, his hands slid down to your waist. "Come," he said softly, his voice thick with desire.

Without hesitation, you let him lead you to the bedroom. The space was just as carefully prepared as the rest of the loft. The bed was freshly made with crisp sheets, more flowers arranged on the nightstands, and soft candlelight flickered around the room.

You turned to him with a playful smile. "You really went all out, didn't you?" He stepped closer, his hands sliding up your sides, his lips brushing against your ear. "I don't take chances when it comes to you."

Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, his touch more insistent now, his hands trailing down your back. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying you down with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his eyes.

"I'll let you make it up to me." You giggle, arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Thank you, baby." In no time, he gets both of you naked, and as if it's the first time, you can't help but shy away a bit. Pulling you closer, his calloused palms travel across your torso, tracing the curves so perfectly. Your already messy hair and burning body invited him to climb over you completely. One of his fingers presses over your lips. "Open."

You do as you're told, parting your puffy lips and letting Sergei’s finger slip in. "Wider." he demands, pushing in another digit, traveling well past your tongue and into the back of your throat. It makes you gag slightly, but you moan around his fingers. He smiles proudly, thrusting his fingers into your mouth and slicking them up before removing them. You're left gasping for air. "Good girl." you shudder.

he motions you further on your back before lining his fingers with your exposed core. "m gonna work you out a little, baby, yeah? then make you take my cock." he doesn't hesitate for long. the slick and wet noises fill the room as Sergei pushes his fingers inside, causing you to buck your hips agains his hand. Your head turns to the side as you try to hide that growing warmth in your cheeks. those two fingers worked into you, turning you into a incoherent mess. A familiar feeling was building up inside your lower belly. "gotta come, baby?" he coos, mocking you. "can't have you do that. Need to feel my cock buried deep inside of that pretty pussy first."

his tainted words make your brain all fuzzy, soft whimpers and pleads parting from your agape mouth. "p-please" his fingers slip out of you, the feeling of emptiness being short-lived as Sergei pushes inside of you full force. This is the first time Sergei has made you take his cock all at once. His hips snap against your, eyes digging into you as if eating you alive. He's merciless, grabbing you by the cheeks harshly and making you look down at your belly, where a familiar bump was visible. "See that, baby?" He laughs. He was so deep inside of you. You can't help but squeeze around him.

"there's my good g-girlㅡ" he groans in utmost pleasure, roughly hitting just the right spot over and over. he pulls out almost completely before snapping his hips forward again, causing you to moan louder, breath hitching as his cock brushed, and probably bruised, your velvety walls.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good, love." he leans down and rasps into your ear "make you leak all overㅡ fuck!"

"p-lease, Sergei" you cry out, gripping him by his broad shoulders, the thrust quickening. he frowns, closing his eyes as he tightly grips you by your thighs. "gonna come all over my cock, baby, huh?"

with one last harsh snap of his hips, he sends you both into heaven and back. You each finish, and you can feel his come pooling inside of you. Your mind and vision blurry, you manage to whisper out a soft "I forgive you." Sergei falls next to you, pulling you closer to his chest as he kisses the crown of your head.

"I love you so much, baby " you smile before you reply with those three words that still make butterflies fly in his stomach."I love you."

[tasteracha]

a/n: hyunjin’s piercing got me. this is not proofread this is a mess of my incoherent thoughts. can be read as idol hyune or non idol! gn!reader. smut - minors dni!

he’s a little too nonchalant when he walks through the door, the hi, love he throws at you a little too casual.

he did something. and he’s afraid to tell you.

you’ve known him too long, been with him too intimately, for him to be able to hide things from you. you can read him better than a violinist reads sheet music.

“come here,” you call out to him, eyes trained on him as he moves towards you, shaking his hair into his eyes in the process.

strange. he didn’t like his hair in his eyes, if anything he would more likely push it out with expert fingers.

he sits on your right side, which is definitely not the seat he prefers on the couch. he chooses the seat by the armrest so he could lean against it, most of the times with you draped halfways over him and halfways over the rest of the couch.

the suspicion is stacking up like perfectly placed dominos, and before he could protest you’re taking his chin in your hand and turning him towards you, pushing his hair back with the fingers of your other hand.

and there it is. a shiny set of metal, embedded into the skin above his eyebrow. an eyebrow piercing.

“what the hell is that,” you ask him, voice just tinged with hysteria as you take in the new piercing.

“do you not like it?” he asks, mistaking your shock as displeasure. the way his face falls a bit makes your heart ache.

“baby no, i love it,” you scooby closer to him, making his own space yours. “i just can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“i wanted it to be a surprise?” he says, bashfulness lacing into his words. “you really like it?”

“shut up,” you give into the urge to straddle his lap, swinging one leg over him so you could look at him fully. “you’re so hot, oh my god.”

“i’m not god, i’m your boyfriend,” he teases, a smile quirking onto his face, and there he is. any shyness he had bleeds away into preening under your attention.

instead of telling him to shut up, which in your experience never works, you crash your lips against his with a fervor you almost didn’t expect from yourself. you run your hands down his chest as he responds in kind, his hands bracing on your waist to keep you steady against him.

you release him, lips popping against the suction, and when you lean back he looks wrecked. already. his lips are reddened and wet, eyes blown wide with pleasure, evidence of his lust pressing against your crotch.

you can’t help but reach up to cup his face, your thumb brushing past the reddened skin around his piercing and he hisses.

“sorry,” you mutter, moving your hand away, but he stops you with a burning hand on your wrist.

“like it,” he doesn’t meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears burn red. oh. memories of him moaning at the feeling of your teeth sinking into his neck, him throwing his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your nails raking down his back, him coming to the sharp, twisted movements of your hand in his cock flood your head; this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you. he’s always been a little bit of a slut for pain.

you massage your thumb across the skin there for a bit, soothing him with kisses to his jaw and his neck and his lips until he was almost shaking.

“let me suck you off?” you toy with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and he shivers under you.

“you literally never have to ask,” he sighs as you slither off his lap onto the floor, kneeling between his legs. he’s painfully hard when you take him out of his pants, his cock red and glistening and so wet that the first glide of your lips against him is so easy.

it doesn’t take long to get him close, expert motions of your hands and your lips and your tongue bringing him to the edge in record time. you almost feel bad not drawing this out, but this isn’t for him. it’s for you.

you graze your teeth along his shaft and he breaks, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and lacing around your mouth. you make a show of licking him clean, pushing his release into your mouth and swallowing it obscenely. he groans and throws his head back when you swipe little kitten licks against the head of his cock, making sure every bit was taken care of.

“maybe you should get this pierced next, hmm?” you look at the head of his cock pointedly, letting out a laugh at his horrified expression.

[mattysprincess]

Love me like it’s the last thing you’ll do.

This is the prequel to this Drabble

SMUT! MDNI!!

It’s not proofread so if you find any mistakes don’t be shy to DM me!! And I’m always open for criticism and tips!

You and Mattheo had been dating for around 1 month, you kept your relationship Private for now because as much as he loved you… he was still scared of others viewing him as weak for actually having feelings, for being in love.

For the record, Mattheo Riddle has never been in a relationship nor romantically involved with any girl ever, it was all hookups and one night stands and so you understood that he wanted to take it slow, understanding his worries and fears.

The problem with that however is that you can’t show affection to eachother in public, leading to others thinking you’re single and free to hit on… which Mattheo can’t seem to handle very well.

Mattheo shoots you a quick text after some overly confident Gryffindor tried flirting with you.

‘My dorm. Now.’

That doesn’t sound too good… You immediately make your way to his dorm, not bothering to knock, as always, you slowly push the door open revealing a frowning Mattheo pacing in his room. “Why were you so close to him?” He immediately shoots and his tone confirms your bad feeling. “Mattheo-“ “Why the fuck were you even with him? Did he make you laugh? Is he better? Did you flirt with him-?!” “Mattheo.”

Your firm voice cuts through his questions and he looks at you as you step closer, standing right infront of him now. “Will you let me speak?’’ He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but nods. “Thank you.. no, I did not flirt with him, no he didn’t make me laugh and no he isn’t better than you. He came up to me and tried to flirt but I told him I’m not interested and to use his awful flirting skills with someone else.” You cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb back and forth gently. “You know you’re the only one I allow to flirt with me…”

Mattheos expression soften at your words and touch, feeling guilty for even thinking you would. “I’m sorry I just- I don’t know… I hate when guys think they can flirt with you and have a chance with you.” He lifts one hand to cup yours that’s on his cheek, squeezing lightly. You smile at his little gesture and apology, letting out a soft breath.

“It’s okay Matty… just next time let me speak first, yeah?” you chuckle softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, making him let out a chuckle under his breath.

“I don’t deserve you…” he mutters lowly, looking at you like you’re the most precious living and breathing thing. You feel a light pink dust your cheeks, yet a frown finds its way to your lips. “Matty… you do deserve me.” you say softly, voice barely above a whisper and he just shakes his head. “Baby… you’re everything I never will be. You’re soft, delicate, sweet… you’re like a ray of sunshine wherever you go. You make people happy just by smiling at them, your voice brings others comfort and warmth. You’re every good thing bundled up into a person and I'm-" he sighs and sits down at the edge of his bed, looking down "and I’m me.” he murmurs.

The frown on your face stays as you walk up to stand between his legs, cupping his cheeks to coax him to look up at you. “look at me please my love..” you say softly, so much warmth in your tone that he can’t help the way his heart flutters, the way he looks up at you so willingly. He’d do anything if you’d just asked with that sweet voice of yours, one word, a simple syllable is enough to make him forget about everything else. “Mattheo you’re you and that’s what makes you so special.” you whisper, like sharing a secret with him “you say you’re not sweet, kind nor soft… but when you touch me it’s like I’m made out of the finest porcelain, when you talk to me I feel like I’m floating, you go out of your way to do anything that might make me crack a smile and you always help me with everything even if I keep telling you I can do it myself.” You smile at him, stroking his cheek and he smiles back lightly “I know you can do it yourself.. but I’m your boyfriend, I want to do it for you. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.” He takes one of your hands that’s on his cheek and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “This is why you deserve me Mattheo… me and so much more.” You whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

The kiss, supposed to be sweet, quickly gets deeper as he tangles one of his hands in your hair and his other pulls you onto his lap, pressing you flush against him. He nudges his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you grant him so willingly. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, exploring you like he’s done countless of times yet it still feels different. Softer, gentler, more passionate and like he’s pouring all of his love and affection into a single kiss. It’s making both your heart swell with love as well as make your pussy throb with excitement and desire and you know Mattheos feeling the same because the second you grind your hips down onto his you feel his bulge pressing flush against you, the only thing separating you being his pants and your panties.

“Fuck… baby I need you.” He murmur against your lips, his hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, thumbs striking the undersides of your breasts as his mouth moves down to press hot opened mouthed kisses from your jaw down to the column of your throat.

“Then take me, Matty… I’m only yours to take.” You breathe out, Mattheos eyes darkening as the words leave your mouth. “That’s right… mine.” He murmurs against your skin and lifts your shirt up and over your head, leaning back to admire you. “Merlin… you’re beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful girl.. all mine baby.” He says under his breath, more to himself than to you.

His hands roam your body, squeezing and caressing whatever he can, all the while whispering sweet nothings against your skin. You let him, sitting in his lap all soft and pliant and patient, just letting him feel you and worship you however he wants. His hands reach your thighs, going up and under your skirt, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties. “You gonna be a good girl and let me worship your pretty little body, baby?” He murmurs against your neck and all you can do is nod as your stomach flutters in the best way possible. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me hm?” He grins, pulling your panties down your legs and patting your thigh, silently telling you to stand so you do. He pulls them down completely, then slowly unzips your skirt, letting it drop and pool at your feet. You stand before him, bare as he finally unclasps your bra and removes the last piece of clothing that’s preventing him from seeing all of you. He stands, towering above you as he grabs your waist and lays you down on the bed. “You’re beautiful… fuck you’re so perfect, baby, I could look at you forever and never get bored of it.” He whispers under his breath, looking at you with soft eyes yet you see the hunger behind them, the simmering heat of desire he’s only ever had for you. You reach up, fingers tangling in his curls before coming down to cup his cheeks “I wanna see you too, Matty… please.” The second you utter please, whatever it is, Mattheo will always give you. So he leans down to peck your lips, a lingering kiss, before leaning back and taking off his shirt. Now it’s your eyes roaming over his body, unashamed desire on full display as well as admiration for his trained and scarred body. His hands go down his belt, undoing it quickly and then unzipping his pants, kicking them off and leaning back over you. “That needs to go too.” You whisper with a smile and point to his black boxers, he grins back at you amusedly “someone’s impatient.” You raise a brow at him “as if you want to wait any longer?” He chuckles at that, pressing kisses from your forehead to your cheek and then finally to your lips “I wanna take my time with you tonight, Angel. Let me show you I love you… how much you mean to me.” Your lips part slightly as you look up at him, he sounds so vulnerable and genuine… you could never deny him anything, not that you wanted to anyways so you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m yours, Mattheo. Tonight, tomorrow, always.” He closes his eyes for a moment, heart beating dangerously fast and a smile graces his lips “and I’m yours, Angel. Tonight, tomorrow, always.”

With that he starts pressing open mouthed kisses down your body, taking a nipple between his lips as he reaches your breasts, making you moan as he swirls his tongue around it, sucking, licking and kissing while his hand is caressing the other bud. Your hands tangle in his unruly curls, tugging slightly as he gently bites you, not being able to resist it. He releases your right nipple with a pop, blowing cool air on the wet bud and making goosebumps raise on your entire body. He moves to the other, giving it the same attention before moving further down to your stomach, kissing and licking whatever he can. When he gets down to your hips, he sucks a hickey right above where your panties would be.

He moves lower and lower but right past where you need him most, making your squirm slightly and he smirks. “Be patient, baby… I’ll give you what you want, just be good a little longer.” He murmur against the inside of your thighs, biting you there gently and making you yelp slightly and tug at his hair. His tongue goes over the spot he bit gently, soothing the sting and saying sorry. He litters your thighs in hickeys and bite marks until your legs are clenching and trembling from the heat that’s pooled right between your legs. “Matty please…” he chuckles slightly, looking up from between your legs “such good manners for me…” he licks a long stripe up your pussy, making you moan out as your head drops back against the pillow.

He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue reaching whatever it can. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your hips, one hand sprawled over your stomach possessively. Moans and whimpers tumble from your lips, his name on your tongue like a prayer as he devours you whole. The only thing on his mind is your pleasure, how to make you feel good… how he wants to be the only one to ever see you or make you feel this way, driven by those thoughts the dives in with even more fervour “I can feel you clench angel… cum for me, right on my tongue like a good girl.”

Those words push you over the edge, your whole body tensing up as you clench your thighs around his head and he swears he’s in heaven. He laps up your release, making you twitch and only when he’s made sure he’s got every last drop he lifts his head, crawling back over you and licking his lips “I might just need to give you a new nickname… you taste so sweet, fuck I’d give up every meal on this planet if it meant I got to eat you for the rest of my life,” he murmurs with a smile and you look up at him, chest heaving with pants, small smile on your lips “so what will you call me?” He grins at that “I think sweetness would fit you quite well, wouldn’t it?” That tears a small giggle from your lips, making Mattheo grin wider.

After calming down a bit, you tense up again as you feel his dick prodding at your entrance “oh you didn’t think we’re done, did you?” He grins “I’d be disappointed if we were, Matty.” And with that he slowly pushes in, making sure you feel every inch of his rock hard cock as he splits you open. You gasp, clawing at his back, it was always difficult to take him but with his gentle words and soft coos it somehow seems so much more intense then all the times before.

“Shhh I’ve got you angel, I’ve got you… relax for me, can you do that? Can you be a good girl and relax for me?” He coos softly on your ear, making you want to do whatever he asks without question so you try your best to relax for him. He feels your walls unclench the slightest bit and smiles, peppering soft kisses along your face and jaw once’s he’s fully inside you. “So good for me… you’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you.” He whispers against your skin and you can’t help but clench around him again, making him groan.

He lets you adjust for a couple seconds before he pulls back until only his tip remains and pushes back in, making you let out a loud moan. He grins and does it again, setting a slow rhythm, each thrust hard and deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He grunts above you, small hisses and pants leaving his lips and it’s the hottest things you’ve ever experienced.

He slowly picks up the pace, grabbing your hips with one hand while the other goes to your neck, squeezing lightly which oddly brings you comfort. “Matty..!” Your breathless voice rings out and Mattheo cant help but go harder, almost pounding into you before pulling out completely, a whine slipping from your lips. But before you could get any word of protest out he grabs you and turns you around, hands and knees digging into the mattress as he slips back inside on one long thrust. “I’m gonna take you like this and you’re gonna love it, okay?” He leans down, his chest pressing against your back as his one hand slips down to press against your stomach while he moves in and out of you. “F-fuck… Mattheo oh my god..!” You feel him deep inside you, so much more intensely then before and your face drops into the sheets as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuck you’re amazing… I love you much, can you feel how deep I’m inside you? No one will ever get that deep because You. Are. Mine.” Each word is punctuated with a hard thrust, your eyes roll back and in that moment all you think about is him, how he makes you feel and how you’ll only ever be his for the rest of your life. The hand on your stomach reaches down, playing with your clit as he pounds into you impossibly faster “come with me, sweetness. Come on my cock while I come inside you.” He breathes into your ear and you all but comply, clenching around him tightly and coming for the second time that night with a loud moan of his name.

He rides out your orgasm, his thrusts growing sloppy and with a few more his body jerks and he sheaths himself deep inside you, filling you up with his hot cum as you twitch from the feeling. You fall onto the mattress and he rolls you over onto your back before collapsing on top of you, his head buried in your neck as you both try to catch your breaths.

“I love you…”

Im so sorry for being inactive guys, I’ve been a bit stressed lately. Take this as an apology and happy New years! Love all of you <3

~Princess

Taglist: @revesephemeres @ur-local-wizard

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

Sweet Renegade Series Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@jamneuromain

@ninacutebee16

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@emerald-writes

[jmstoesblog]

Unexpected

Pairing: Yandere! Boss!Jungkook x fem!reader

released: 12.03.24

Summary: in the span of a few minutes, your life took a big turn. An ugly turn.

Warnings: kissing, heavy makeout, mention of the word rape, mention of killing somebody, mention of torturing someone.

Wc: 1,3k+

Note: this is my first time writing a fic so if it’s not good or up to your expectations, I’m sorry. Also English is not my first language so if there are grammatical mistakes please let me know! And I’ve never written smut so I probably won’t write any YET, maybe in the future. Not proofread!!

——————————————————————————

This isn’t right.

The way you feel every time he’s around you or touching you. This simply isn’t right.

He’s your boss after all.

You shouldn’t feel such an attraction towards him. But you can’t be blamed. The flirtatious winks and smiles he sends you when nobody’s watching. The way he grabs your waist to position you to the side when he wants to pass. The way he gazes at you, licking his lips while looking at yours.

Plus he smoking hot. Not to forget his godly sculptured face, his thin, pouty plump lips which adorn two piercings, his unique beautiful nose and lastly his doe eyes.

Oh, how could you forget his tattoos which add more hotness. And his veiny arms and hands adorned with tattoos and rings which he could wrap around your thro—

Shaking your head at your sinful thoughts, you focus on the presentation being held by a employee in Mr. Jeon’s aka your oh so handsome boss.

You’re supposed to write everything down because he can’t join this meeting due to his full planned schedule.

Why can’t his PA write everything down?

Oh, right! He fired him because he accidentally spilled coffee on Mr. Jeon.

So know you’ve been informed to note everything important down and deliver it after the meeting to Mr. Jeon, personally.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

Come in exactly 30 minutes into my office to provide me with the information.

The text read. When he says in thirty minutes he means exactly thirty minutes. Not a minute late. Not a minute after.

What does make you confused is the fact that he has your number. He doesn’t have the number of the other employees, only yours. Why? Well you did als him and he just shrugged it off.

“Thank you.” Mr. Han bows down to everyone, meaning the meeting is over, his presentation is over. And you’re in trouble. You haven’t been really listening, you were too lost in your thoughts about your boss and how he could—

You look around in sheer panic, “did you happen to note down a few of the things he said?” You ask politely. You only noted down a few things he said, not everything.

“No, I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sorry. She never liked you. Why? You don’t know. You just assume it’s jealousy.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself and stride down to your office. You still have 25 minutes.

“I mean I did note down many things? That should be enough, right?” You talk to yourself.

After calming yourself down and replaying the scene of Mr. Han presenting over and over in your head. It’s already time.

You have exactly a minute. Grabbing the file, you make your way to his office.

You gently knock, “come in,” his deep voice is audible.

You sigh and open the door and close it behind you and start walking in front of his table.

Jungkook can clearly see fear behind you eyes.

If he was ready to fire someone who accidentally spilled coffee in him then he was probably ready to fire you for not properly listening, right?

You need this job. It’s important to you.

Jungkook has his hand behind his head and his feet on the clean table. With a cocky smirk evident on his face. Seeing you so scared of him satisfies him.

You bow down and he raises his pierced eyebrow, “so , the information?” You hand it to him and bow ready to leave.

But he has the door locked. How did he lock it from there? Does he have some button under table or what?

You hear him tsk.

You gulp and turn around, “that’s it?” He questions you with a raised brow.

“Y-yes I did what you asked me to do, I noted everything that I found important down. Could you please open the door now, I have other work to do.”

He tsks again and motions you with his fingers to come closer. Without a second thought you start moving closer, until you’re standing in front of him, the desk between you two.

You have to do everything he asks you to do, you need this job.

He stands up, bringing his built closer to you, only a few inches left between you two. You can smell his cologne. It smells so… manly.

He tilts his face to the side and angles your face until you’re looking directly into his eyes.

“You deserve a punishment, don’t you?”

You freeze.

“Do you know how important that was? Everything you’ve written down doesn’t help me at all.” He pokes his inner cheek with his tongue.

“I thought you’re smarter than that? What was going on in that pretty head of yours? Huh? What were you thinking about?” His tone is full of mockery and a cocky smirk evident on his face.

Before you can say anything he brings your face even closer to his by grabbing your head with his big hands.

And in the next moment his lips are on yours.

His hand is quick to press your face even harder against his as he grips your nape while his other hand wraps itself around your waist.

After recovering from the shock, you start kissing him back. Your hands make their way around his neck and start pulling at his hair. He seems to like it as he groans into the kiss.

His lips mold perfectly into yours. His hand on your waist squeezes your ass cheek and smacks it right after that. You moan in the kiss and try pulling away but he won’t let you.

You tap his shoulder letting him know you need air.

After a few more seconds he pulls away. Your lipstick is all over his lips and his lips are puffy.

He looks so good with my lipstick on him.

You internally giggle at your thoughts.

“Fuck, come here.” He demands with his raspy, deep voice.

You make you way over him and he immediately pulls you closer by your waist and kisses you again causing you to gasp.

You moan into the kiss making him even harder than he already is. He pulls away and licks his lips. Forehead on forehead, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

“For what?” You ask breathlessly .

He pulls his head away.

He chuckles, “to make you mine.”

“I will have you in any way I please and you will not have a say because,” he draws his face closer, “you’re mine. From the moment I’ve laid my eyes on you, I knew you were the one.”

Suddenly it clicks in your head.

He’s the one that’s been stalking you, giving you anonymously gifts and flowers. No wonder he has your number. You never gave it to him or anybody at work.

His dark chuckle brings you out of your thoughts, “don’t worry y/n, I also killed that bastard that was about to rape you.” He growls at the thought.

After a night out with your friends on the way to your car a guy tried hitting you. You rejected him and told him to leave you alone. But he wouldn’t take a no so he pinned you against the nearest wall and was about to rip of your dress but was shot twice in the leg.

“I tortured him until he begged for his death. Only for you, y/n.”

At your silence he furrows his brows, “Baby?”

“Why won’t you say anything, baby? I did this for you— us. Now nobody can do us apart. We will be together forever.”

“You and I, baby.”

That’s when everything turned upside down in the span of 20 minutes.

You didn’t know you were dealing with an enraged psychopath who’s obsessed with you and has been stalking you.

You’re trapped.

You cannot escape.

Ever.

——————————————————————————

Do NOT copy or translate

Thank you for reading 💕

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

omg just read ur long sleeves fix it was sSOOOO GOOD! if u write part 2 i will be tuned in & reading ☝️☝️

i miss you, i'm sorry- r.c. x reader

part 2 of long sleeves!!!

OMGG IM SOO GLAD YOU LIKED IT <3

warnings: swearing angst (?) mention of drugs, rehab, and reader is so fucking codependent, like girl?? anyway, this is horrible y’all i cannot for the life of me write a happy ending so i tried my best 😞 can you tell i’m depressed LMAOOO? YALL SHES DEPRESSED TOO 😔 but seriously if i could make it happier hmu, i won’t get mad i promise. i’m new at this whole writing thing 🤠 not proofread cuz i wanted to post this already so tell me if there are big mistakes and my first language isn’t english so sorry if there are errors

disclaimer: the reader's depression is based on my own experiences, everybody is different and what i might go through isn't the same as what another person goes through. with that said, if you find any of these topics triggering, i understand! so, please always take care of yourself <3

ps: sorry this took so long, i've just been busy with school and my dad has been sick for a few days now so i haven't had time.

I'M ALSO HALFWAY DONE THROUGH THE FLASHBACKS FOR NO BODY, NO CRIME. i just haven't had the time fml. hopefully tomorrow 🤞. ok enough whining and into the story 🥁

want it, so i got it, did it, so it's done

making the bed started playing and the first line felt like a punch to the gut. i hated when life kicked you when you were already down.

i quickly changed to a cheery workout playlist that felt more mocking, in a sense, but decided it was better to not relate to the lyrics than listening to my despair sing back to me.

after that day in tannyhill, i'd decided to start running at night. in a silly way i thought that maybe running would burn away my pain in a healthy way. though how healthy running on barely any sleep, with nothing but depressive thoughts in my brain, was beyond me.

still, at least this way i felt like i was doing something. that i was taking action instead of moping. that doesn't make any sense. ugh, shut the fuck up. i really didn't know whose side i was on half the time.

the night sky was clear, making the stars wink at me as if they knew something i didn't. the sea breeze caressed my face, combing its fingers through my hair and drying away my tears.

running equated crying but by the time i got home i would be so exhausted that i couldn't even think. which was, of course, the ultimate goal. not think of him.

six months had passed and it didn't hurt any less. on the contrary, all i could think was how i'd abandoned him. probably when he needed me the most. two weeks after our breakup, sarah called me to tell me that rafe was terribly sick and they were taking him to the hospital. i'd debated whether i should tell her what had happened but she then said that she was aware of the situation and that i shouldn't go see him. she was only letting me know and, in a way, it felt like she was blaming me.

that was the last time i had contact with the camerons, town gossip and my mother becoming the only ties left between us. he'd gone to rehab and was apparently taking better care of himself, his family supporting him every step of the way.

fucking hypocrites. ward never cared when i told him about his son's addiction, instead saying that i should keep quiet, that everything would be okay. rose only cared about new shopping places to spend the family's money. sarah had started spending time with her new boyfriend and barely came home and wheezie was far too young.

so that left me. it had always been me, but when word got out of how bad rafe he was, they then played the card of ignorance and became the holy family.

i took a deep breath and slowed down to a jog, unaware of where the fuck i was. i looked at my surroundings for the first time and of course, i was in front of tannyhill. the gates were close but i could hear muffled voices on the other side. stepping closer to listen like the eavesdropper i was.

i looked through the bars of the gate, only to see him or well his back. he was with ward, who was lowering another suitcase to the ground. i frowned but i then heard his voice saying my name.

Ward turned his head sharply in his direction, "you are not seeing her again, alright? she's the one that got you into this mess in the first place." oh so the asshole blamed me.

he turned to face his dad and i gasped. his hair was buzzed and he looked older, healthier. he looked good but i couldn't help but feel like this was a different person entirely. i felt a slight pang in my chest because i'd been the one who had insisted on him leaving his hair longer and now he'd erased that too.

his voice interrumpted my thoughts, "dad, that is not true and you know it." why was he defending me? in a way what ward said was true. i'd left him alone that night.

his father stepped closer to him and put his hands on his son’s shoulders, “son, trust me when I tell you that it is best for you to stay away from her. don’t set yourself up for disappointment. We know where that led you.” Ward then kissed his forehead like one did to a child in a condescending manner.

Ward then picked up the suitcases left and turned to enter the house, leaving him standing there with a strange expression on his face. He lifted his gaze and somehow found mine, like they always did. I’d forgotten how we always sensed the other, no matter how much time had passed. My heartbeat sped up, causing me to quickly turn around and ran away from him as fast as I could.

“He is such a good father to those kids, especially Rafe.” Vanessa, my mother’s friend said, swooning over ward. Like god, he’s married, get a life.

Either way it seemed like every corner of this island is haunted. Ever since he’d come back as a stellar young man, all the women at the country club started obsessing over him, but more so his father. They practically held him as a saint and it only made my blood boil.

I felt my mothers gaze on me when his name was mentioned, noting the way I flinched and seemed particularly interested in the half eaten strawberries on my plate. They continued to chatter, causing me to tune them out and look at my surroundings for a distraction. Big mistake.

The doors had opened as if on cue, and there he was with a new found confidence that was unfamiliar to me. Before I could look away his eyes found mine, quieting everything around me, dèjá vu flooding my body. We looked at each other for what seemed an eternity until ward came up behind him, clapping his hand on his shoulder to turn him away from me. The colder version of his son’s eyes bore into mine in a warning. Stay away from him.

I looked back down at my plate no longer interested in my food. My eyes welled up and I knew that if i stayed a minute longer on this table I would start sobbing or worse.

“Mom? I’m not feeling well so I’m going home,” my voice quiet in her ear and she realized what I meant.

She nodded, “take the car, ok?”

“It’s ok, I can walk home.” I needed to clear my head and driving wasn’t the best idea.

“Are you sure?” The concern in her eyes made my heart wrench.

“I’m sure, mom. Thanks.” I stood up and voicing my goodbyes, leaving the club as fast as I could.

The sun was out and the sky was clear of clouds, a stark contrast of how I felt inside. I walked down the path, golf carts filled with kooks passing me by. All of them chattering about the next party or newest deal they had closed.

I kept walking and walking until I reached the boardwalk, which was thankfully empty. I sat down on the edge, swinging my feet over the water with the girl staring back at me and somehow looked as if she was drowning.

The wind carried the sound of footsteps behind me, my body tensing as his perfume arriving along with his shadow looming over me. The drowning girl hid away, leaving me alone. I almost begged her to take me with her.

“Why do you always run away?” my heart sank and then restarted when I heard his voice. For the first time in months, I heard the world clearly again. I hadn’t realized the power it had over me. Didn’t you?

Who was I kidding? He would always be my favorite person, everything about me was shaped by him. My favorite color was blue, my favorite smell was his cologne, my favorite taste were his lips, my favorite sound in the world was his voice, his body my favorite thing to touch. But most of all, his soul.

I took a deep breath before lifting my gaze to his. The knot on my throat made it hard to speak, “Who said I was running away?”

He scoffed before sitting down next to me. “I know you. Or at least I thought I did.” His tone sounded reproachful, his eyes searching my face. this time i really looked at him, gone were his red, glassy eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks but most importantly, the anger that had felt permanently etched into his features every time he looked at me.

the buzz cut now made his features more prominent, his body was stronger and not as skinny as when he’d been living off cocaine and god knew what else.

he looked more like the rafe i’d met forever ago, but there was still something that wasn’t quite there. his innocence. which wasn’t the one of a child, but more so the type of innocence that comes with ignorance. the type where you think you can get away with anything and that bad things only happen to somebody else, but never to you. no matter how bad you behave, you genuinely believed there would be no consequences.

and the boy in front of me knew how untrue that belief was.

“rafe, i—” the knot on my throat became worse, preventing me from talking further. great, now here come the waterworks!

i turned my face away so he couldn’t see my tears but it was too late.

he took hold of my face, “look at me.”

i tried to jerk away but it was no use. i had no other choice but to cry silently while he judged me.

“im going to talk and you’re going to listen, understood?” his voice now held a tone of authority i’d never heard before.

that’s kinda hot. dude, now is not the time.

i nodded because what the fuck was i supposed to do?

he turned so both of his hands held my face now. then he did something i wasn’t expecting, he leaned in and kissed my forehead for what felt like an eternity.

when he pulled away his gaze held mine, with a force stronger than any physical restraint i could possibly be held in.

the tears were flowing freely so i probably looked like a drowned cat at the moment.

“im not mad at you, ok? i hope you know that i never asked for you to not visit me. i know it was my dad that didn’t want you near me, but i swear that the only person i ever wanted by my side was you.

“i won’t deny that i was furious when you left me that night. i only got worse because i didn’t have anyone to stop me, or at least try to. i felt like you were the last person that still believed in me, who would always be beside me. and i took you for granted.” his words felt like a knife through my heart. i abandoned him.

“rafe, im sorry. i shouldn’t have left you like that. not when you needed me the most.” my words barely made sense but he somehow understood. he always did.

“no. you did the right thing. i hurt you, i told you that i hated you. when all you’d ever done for me was love me. i’m sorry, ok? if you hadn’t left then maybe i wouldn’t have gotten help.” he lowered his hands to his lap, my face burning where they had been resting.

“i know you tried to help me. that you talked to my dad about how i was and i know that he dismissed you. he only took me to the hospital because i overdosed and he didn’t want the island to know how ward cameron’s perfect son was a drug addict.” he laughed in a humorless manner, “hell, he even paid everyone at the hospital to keep quiet. that didn’t help much, frankly. gossip always finds its way.”

i wanted to say something but i could tell he wasn’t done so i waited until he felt ready.

this time his voice was hoarse, making me realize he wanted to cry too. i couldn’t take it anymore because nothing could hurt me more than seeing him in pain.

“rafe?” i murmured. he looked up with a broken expression causing me to wrap my arms around him. i felt him tense for a second before he hugged me back tightly.

my shirt got wet with our tears and we clung onto each other like a lifeline, with rafe repeating my name like a mantra. after a while, we pulled away and he held my face between his hands like before, only this time much gentler.

“i miss you, im sorry.”

“i miss you too, rafe.” i fell back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. we sat silently for a while before he spoke.

“can we at least be friends?” the question caught me by surprise.

“you’ve always been my best friend, rafe. but again i’m sorry for not being there, i should’ve done more.”

“no, you couldn’t have. it was the way things were supposed to be.”

he played with my hair like he used to, “you’ve always been my best friend too, kid.”

i punched him playfully at the name, making him chuckle. i pulled back to see his face and i wiped away the few tears that were left with my hand. he fell silent, leaning into my touch, “i love you, you know? not being close to you drove me insane. and it makes me so happy to see that you are healthy, at least physically.

“i want to help you in any way that i can and i want to be there from now on, if—“ his lips crushing onto mine cut me off before i could finish. his hands were in my hair, holding me in place as if afraid i’d run away again.

only i knew i wouldn’t. not this time. he groaned when i bit his lower lip, softly. he ran his tongue along mine before i let him in. i sighed into the kiss and pulled him impossibly closer. our lips explained more than any words that came out of them ever could. i separated from him to breathe and he only kept kissing my cheeks, jaw, neck until he reached my collarbone where he rested his head with quick, short breaths.

“i love you too,” he said. i touched his hair and ran my fingers over the short strands.

“i like your hair, by the way,” i murmured.

he laughed, pulling back. “really? i got it because i thought you would hate it.”

i rolled my eyes, “are you serious? either way, you look good with any haircut.”

“i wasn’t exactly planning on this to go like this. in my head, i was going to confront you and tell you all the ways i’d been miserable but that went away when i saw you that night by my house.”

“oh.”

he chuckled, “yeah. oh. anyway, i was telling my dad how i was going to ask why you never visited me and that’s why he said what you heard.

“i then realized it had been him and as if life liked playing tricks on me, there you were at the gate with a sad expression. yet before i could say anything you left running. i wanted to go after you but my dad called me inside and i didn’t want a fight that night. so i waited until i saw you today and when i was going to ask you to talk to me, again my dad came along. but then i saw you leave and i figured it was now or never, so i excused myself and he was so busy talking to the others at the table that he didn’t notice.”

i scoffed, “well, i’m guessing he noticed by now.”

he laughed, “yeah.”

we fell silent but i still had one more thing to ask, “how did you know i was here?” though i think i already knew the answer, after all i hadn’t exactly been surprised when he came. more like a sense of having your intuition confirmed.

“remember the night we met? i was alone and drunk, saying i was going for a night swim when i saw you sitting here alone. which should’ve alerted me that you were a weirdo but between your beauty and the alcohol, those thoughts went to shit.”

i blushed slightly, “i’m not a weirdo, jackass. i’d had a rough night.”

“i know, kid. i’m just messing with you and besides, i might’ve drowned that night if you hadn’t been here,” he smiled fondly but a bit sad as well.

“so, that makes me your knight in shining armor?” i grinned.

he scowled in mock annoyance, “how dare you mock a damsel in distress?”

i chuckled and felt a heavy weight lift off my chest. i felt lighter than i had in a while, and all because of him.

“my apologies, dear.”

he took my hand with a smile and brought it to his lips for a kiss, before placing it against his cheek.

“but to answer your question, we always find each other,” his words sinking in. that was true. we always did as if there was some invisible string tying him to me.

“you’re right. although you’re still not beating the stalker allegations,” i teased.

“ugh shut up, it was one time!” he groaned.

i burst out laughing, “you followed me for a whole day! that’s some stalker behavior type shit.”

“c’mon, kid. i wanted to give you your bracelet back and i didn’t know where you lived,” his eyes widening in a too innocent way which caused me to narrow mine.

“a bracelet that wasn’t even mine. plus you could’ve just given it to me when you first saw me,” i crossed my arms in front of my chest with a raised brow.

“oh c’mon, but where’s the fun in that?”

i pushed his shoulder, playfully only for him to laugh and hug me.

“i really just wanted to know if you were with someone else, so i wouldn’t make a fool of myself.” he whispered in my ear.

“you could’ve just asked,” i rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

“i wanted to be cool about it, ok? i had a reputation to maintain,” he joked but i knew he was a little serious. he’d been the epitome of a rich, arrogant, country club boy.

“i thought you were such an asshole.” who the fuck wears shades inside of a convenience store? you guessed it: rafe cameron.

he gasped in mock surprise, “you’re just saying that because you had the hots for me.”

“pfft, sure buddy. i think you’re projecting a little,” i laughed.

“i never said i didnt,” this time his tone was a little too serious making my heart beat faster.

“can we try this again?” he asked shyly.

i pondered for a moment before answering, “yes, but i want you to let me help you this time, ok?”

he moved his head to look me in the eye, “i promise.”

“ok, but wait. what about your father?” i’d somehow forgotten how he hated me now. or maybe always had.

“what about him? i’m an adult, i can make my own decisions. besides it’s none of his business. he’s the one that got us here in the first place.” his tone was now angry, which was rare when he spoke of his father. it was usually filled with frustration and sadness when it came to him. and i knew how important his father’s approval was to him.

“rafe, i don’t know. he’s still your father and i don’t want to come between you two,” i lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill.

he was silent for a moment before lifting my chin with his finger, frowning when he noticed my expression.

“you’re the love of my life. i’m not losing you again, ok? he’ll have to understand and i will talk to him. i’ll tell him how things really went down. plus, he isn’t innocent in any of this either.”

pursing my lips, i nodded. “ok” i didn’t really believe ward would be capable of changing his mind, but if it made rafe happy then i would try and compromise.

rafe searched for my eyes with a soft smile, “i love you.”

i returned the smile, “i love you too.”

he then got up to his feet, reaching his hand down to help me stand. after a few more kisses and a hug, he took me to his truck. we drove around with no particular destination in mind but with the sole purpose of being by ourselves without prying eyes and judging remarks.

i hoped deep down that i wasn’t making a mistake and that everything would be ok.

and as if on cue, “everything is going to be ok.” i turned my head in surprise at his words.

“don’t act so shocked, kid. i know you better than i know myself.” he then lifted my hand again and kissed it like he’d done on the boardwalk.

i chuckled and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. with the windows down, the ocean breeze, his hand drawing circles on the back of mine, and the soft music playing, i felt myself float away.

“sleep, angel. i love you.”

and then i woke up.

JK JK IT’S NOT A DREAM.

or is it? HEHEHEHEHE

ALSO WHY IS SHE SO CODEPENDENT??? LIKE GIRL STAND UP (says the one who wrote her 👯‍♀️)

anywayyyy, if you made it this far THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU!!!

please feel free to write comments or whatever, i love talking to you all 💞

and if you liked this check out my other stories!!

im currently writing a murder mystery kind of story and i only have two chapters for now, but i will make flashbacks with like text messages and diary entries and stuff. i’m trying to make it as if the reader is part of the investigation (I HOPE IM DOING A GOOD JOB) and i already have how i want the story to end but writing it is the hard part. like how long do i make it?? i don’t want to rush it but i really want to finish it because the characters take a mind of their own when i write. does that make sense? prob not lol

div creds!!- by @anitalenia

[newobsessionweekly]

Diamonds and dreams

Tim Bradford x Buckley!reader

Crossover The Rookie x 911

Fandoms: The Rookie, 911

Summary: Tim teams up with your brother, Buck, to plan the proposal. You get hurt in the process, unintentionally, but it's for a good cause.

A/N: Another crossover, and I don't think I'll stop here. I love so much both Tim and Buck. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and I'm open for requests! I'm sorry if I made some mistakes while writing, english is not my first language, but I'm trying to improve. Thank you so much for your support so far. Take care of yourselves, bubs! I appreciate everything single one of you! Lots of love! ❤️

Warnings: Swearing ? Maybe. Bunch of fluff and banter anyways. Not proofread yet

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: No

Words: 4.9k

Requests are open for Tim and Buck.

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

For the past three years, your life took unexpected twists, one after one. You didn't know back then how impactful a police officer doing his job would be to your life. You never expected to fall for the all-so-serious officer, whose indignation spoke volumes in the presence of firefighters.

Tim had only one opinion about the other branch of first responders — reckless, not so sharp, and definitely idiots, but they mean well. That was before meeting you.

After a massive earthquake hit LA, the chaos that followed can't be described. People running around looking for the close ones, screaming, and a lot of pain. LAPD was sent on the streets to maintain order while LAFD rushed to rescue everyone in need. They were hand in hand and, for the first time in his life, Tim was following the orders of a firefighter— you.

He complained at first, but when he understood you were more than a reckless woman, he obeyed. Back then, Tim saw in you a seriousness that made him eat his words. The way you pushed yourself aside for the safety of the civilians, the way you disobeyed the book in a risky situation, questioning everything you knew for the people. You allowed him to help, and he was there by your side the whole time, mesmerised by the way you gave everything you had, pushed away any fear and doubts and crawled into wrecked precincts to save every single one of them.

There was a huge difference between the two branches of first responders. LAPD was trained to save the law, maintain order, protect the vulnerable and punish the guilty, while LAFD was trained to protect and save regarding the guilty and they've seen unimaginable things, making them aware the life is short and you need to cherish it every second.

And when you showed him that ugly side of your job, Tim never saw you the same again. Drawn by your determination and dedication to save every soul and by your love and beauty you carried around, he fell for you, hard.

But he never accepted the real dangers of your job. Actually, he never accepted that your dedication was so profound, that you'd give your life to save another without second thoughts. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you some day due to your 'dedication'.

You’re both standing in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension that’s been building for weeks. Tonight’s argument was inevitable, ignited by the underlying fear and frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

Tim’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you, his concern turning into frustration. He knows that firefighting is dangerous, but seeing you take unnecessary risks feels like a constant weight on his shoulders.

“Damn it, Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice loud and filled with anger. “You can’t keep ignoring orders and putting yourself in danger! You’re a firefighter, not a one-woman hero team!”

You clench your fists, feeling defensive, his words sounding like an accusation. “I know what I’m doing, Tim. Sometimes you have to take risks to save lives.”

“Fire isn’t something predictable,” Tim interjects, his voice firm. “When you're dealing with an armed suspect, you can see the next move in his eyes. But with fire? It's nothing like that and, when it happens, it's probably too late."

His words cut deep, and tears fill your eyes as you try to make him understand. You feel misunderstood, judged, and it hurts.

“Predictable or not, I trust my instincts,” you shoot back, your voice shaking. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut, Tim, not just follow orders blindly.”

"But at what cost?” Tim retorts, his face flushed with frustration. “How many times do we have to argue about this before you realize that you’re not invincible?”

Your eyes fill with tears, the weight of his words hitting you hard. “I’m not saying I’m invincible,” you reply, tears streaming down your face. “I just believe in doing whatever it takes to save lives, even if it means bending the rules sometimes.”

“Bending the rules?” Tim’s voice cracks, hurt evident in his expression. “Y/N, this isn’t a game. Lives are at stake, including yours!”

You’re openly crying now, the tears blurring your vision as you try to make him understand. “I need you to trust me, Tim. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I need to be able to trust that you’ll come home safely,” Tim says, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I can’t keep worrying every time you’re on shift, wondering if you’re going to make it home in one piece.”

"But this is who I am, Tim. I can’t change that.”

Tim’s thoughts swirl with a mix of love, fear, and frustration as he watches you, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing he can’t control your choices. “I need some time to think,” he finally says, his voice filled with resignation.

Without another word, you grab your bag and head for the door, leaving Tim standing alone in the living room, his face a mask of regret and worry. As you make your way to Lucy’s apartment, the weight of the argument pressing down on you, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you and Tim, something that might be impossible to repair.

You stand before Lucy’s door, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. With a shaky breath, you knock softly as your heart is pounding in your chest. The door swings open to reveal Lucy’s shocked face, her eyes widening at your disheveled appearance.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Lucy’s voice is filled with concern as she wraps you in a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in your body.

Tamara rushes in, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?”

As Lucy's comforting embrace envelops you, a mixture of relief and despair washes over you. You lean into her warmth, grateful for the solace she provides amidst the chaos of your emotions. Tamara's worried expression only adds to the weight of the situation, highlighting the gravity of the rift between you and Tim.

"I’m so sorry,” you stammer, tears threatening anew. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can't go to Buck like this and –"”

Lucy steps back, creating space for you to enter, "You're always welcome here, Y/N. You know that."

Lucy leads you to the couch and wraps her arm around your shoulders as you found a small measure of comfort in her presence. The unspoken understanding between you eases some of the ache in your heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this struggle.

Tamara places a comforting hand on your knee, her eyes filled with empathy as Lucy spoke, “Come on, tell us what happened."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your voice as you recount the intense argument with Tim. “We had a fight, a really bad one. He said he needed some time to think.”

Your love for Tim is boundless, a deep-rooted connection that fills your heart with warmth and joy. Every moment spent with him is a treasure, each shared smile and whispered promise a testament to the depth of your affection. And being so far from him, it was a nightmare. Leaving so abruptly, both of your anger and frustration bottled inside, this tore you apart.

Tamara’s eyes narrow, her tone incredulous. “Tim said that? What could possibly have happened?”

“He thinks I’m reckless, that I put myself and my team in danger,” you explain, the sting of his words still fresh in your mind.

The pain of your fight weighs heavily on your soul, a sharp ache that refuses to fade. His words cut deep, leaving you reeling with a sense of loss and betrayal. The thought of losing him, of facing a future without his love, is almost unbearable.

Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “Tim’s always been by-the-book. He values rules and order. But being a firefighter isn’t always black and white.”

You nod, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “Exactly. But he just won't listen.”

Lucy sighs, her eyes softening with understanding. “Tim loves you. He’s just scared. Scared of losing you.” She can see the pain in your eyes, the uncertainty about the future of your relationship.

“I know,” you sniffle, trying to hold back the tears. “But it’s not just about him being scared. It’s about understanding who I am and what I do.”

Tamara nods, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Y/N. Sometimes two people can love each other deeply but still be incompatible in some ways.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you say, feeling the weight of her words. “But I also don’t want to lose myself.” You grapple with the conflicting emotions, torn between love and self-respect.

Lucy chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. She stands up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some tea. “You won't lose him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he loves you. You know that."

Tamara smirks, leaning back on the couch. “Well, men are from Mars, right? We’ll never fully understand them.”

Lucy laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “True that. But hey, if anyone can knock some sense into Tim, it’s you, Y/N.”

Tamara smirks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leans back on the couch. “You know, Y/N, I like you more and more. Just so you know, everything you’ve said tonight will be used against Tim tomorrow.” She winks playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Lucy’s going to make his shift a living hell.”

Lucy chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Oh, you bet I will. He won’t know what hit him.” She laughs, the tension in the room further dissipating with their playful banter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for the light-hearted moment amidst the emotional chaos. “Just promise me you’ll go easy on him. He’s still my guy, after all.”

Yet, even in the midst of your despair, your love for him remains steadfast. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a guiding light that keeps you tethered to him, even when the distance between you feels insurmountable.

Tamara raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “No promises,” Lucy says with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, chuckling at their antics. “Alright, alright. Just remember, I’ll have to deal with him after you two are done.”

After a moment of silence, Tamara's face brightens, an idea forming. “You know what we need? A girls’ night. We could all use a little distraction, right?”

Lucy grins, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Some wine, some movies, and some girl talk. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

You smile weakly, grateful for their support. “That sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, across town, Tim and Buck find themselves in the comfort of Tim's living room. With beers in hand and the soft glow of the TV providing background noise, both men seem to have left the weight of the day behind them, engrossed in their own world of laughter and banter.

But Tim's thoughts are consumed by the image of you, tears staining your cheeks as you walked out the door. Each memory of your tearful departure cuts him deeply, a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow gnawing at his heart.

Buck takes a swig of his beer, glancing over at him with a curious expression. “So, how did the fight go?”

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I think I overstepped a little. She was crying and she left. It broke me to see her like that and let her go."

Seeing you hurt because of him breaks him in ways he never imagined. He would give anything to erase the hurt he's caused, to mend the fractures in your relationship. But he knows that sometimes love requires sacrifice, even if it means bearing the weight of your pain.

Buck nods understandingly, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "It's all part of the plan, Tim. We knew it would be tough, but it's for the best." He tries to reassure Tim, understanding the struggle his friend is going through.

Tim looks at Buck, gratitude in his eyes. "I know, I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her hurt and knowing I'm the cause of it, even if it's for a good reason."

Buck places a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "At least this will buy us some time. Where's she now?"

Tim smiles slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "At Lucy's. She texted me when Y/N got there. She'll be crashing on Lucy's couch."

Buck chuckles, picking up his beer again. "Good, at least she's safe. Lucy will take care of her. She always does."

Tim nods, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Lucy's been great. I'm glad she's there for Y/N."

The two men sit in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their secret plan hanging in the air between them. It's a plan born out of love and a desire to create the perfect proposal for you, but it comes with its own set of challenges and emotions.

Buck's voice is filled with excitement. "You know, once all of this is over, and you've proposed, it's going to be amazing. Y/N is going to be over the moon."

Tim smiles, the vision of his future with you filling his mind. "I know, Buck. I can't wait to make her my wife."

Amidst the pain, there's a profound love that anchors him, a love so deep it eclipses the darkness of your current strife. You're more than just his partner; you're his rock, his solace, his reason for waking up each day with a smile. Your laughter brightens his darkest moments, your touch soothes his weary soul, and your presence fills his life with a sense of purpose and joy he never thought possible.

The two men raise their beers in a toast, their smiles reflecting the hope and love that fills their hearts.

Tim glances over at Lucy, his voice filled with concern. "How's Y/N holding up? I haven't heard from her since that night."

He can't shake the self-loathing that grips him, the regret for letting things escalate to this point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "A bit pissed at you, but she's safe."

"I hate myself for that. I really don't like this whole...situation. Especially letting her go and forcing her to sleep on your couch."

He never wanted to hurt you, never intended for things to unravel like this. And the idea of you sleeping on Lucy's couch, away from him, fills him with a sense of emptiness he can't bear.

She chuckles softly, her tone teasing. "You could've called, you know. Women like that kind of thing."

Tim lets out a sigh, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured as much. I just thought... well, some space might be good."

Lucy's teasing only adds to his discomfort, her playful jabs hitting a little too close to home. He knows he should have done a lot of things, but fear and uncertainty held him back, clouding his judgment with doubt.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, “Space, huh? Sounds like a classic Bradford move. But you might want to pick up the phone. Y/N deserves to know you’re not pushing her away.”

Tim chuckles, shaking his head. "Trust me, I plan to. I just needed some time to... you know, plan everything out, to get it right."

Lucy grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you better make this worth it, you hear me?" She nudges him playfully. "And soon. She might love you and might be willing to wait for you, but don't test her patience."

Tim smiles, gratitude evident in his gaze. "I will, Lucy. And thanks, for everything."

Lucy waves him off with a chuckle. "Don't mention it. Just remember to thank me after she says yes." She winks at him, her smile warm and supportive.

You've been camping on the girls' couch for the past three days. It wasn't all that bad; some time off work was just what you needed, and your fight with Tim allowed you to sort through some old stuff.

When you were about to drift off to sleep again, Lucy burst into the living room. "Alright, couch potato, time to get up!”

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. “Five more minutes, Lucy.”

With a chuckle, Lucy yanked the pillow away and extended her hand. “Come on, Y/N. It’s time to get some fresh air. You can’t stay on my couch forever.”

Reluctantly, you accepted Lucy’s help to sit up. “What happened to ‘you’re always welcome here’? My free stay at Hotel Lucy is over?”

Lucy laughed. “Exactly. It’s check-out time, Missy.”

You smirked, slipping on your sneakers. "Well, send the bill to Bradford; he's the only one at fault for this."

With her keys in hand, Lucy grinned. “How about a ride along? A little patrol action might be good for you.”

Raising an eyebrow teasingly, you countered, “Trying to get rid of me, Lucy?”

She chuckled. “Just trying to help you get some fresh air. And maybe a little distraction.”

As you reluctantly rose from the comfort of Lucy's couch, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of hurt, confusion, and a desperate longing to mend things with Tim. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope – hope that today could mark the beginning of reconciliation, of healing the wounds that had torn you apart.

“Alright, alright. But only because I’m craving some fresh, questionable coffee from the station.”

“Deal. But you’re buying the donuts!” Lucy teased.

“Deal. But only if they have sprinkles.”

Suddenly, Lucy stopped and appraised you, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. You can’t possibly leave the house like that. Off to the shower with you, you’re starting to smell like my couch.”

Stepping into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of doubt and insecurity as you made a silent vow to yourself. Today would be the beginning of a new chapter for you both, a chance to rebuild what had been broken and to forge a stronger, more resilient bond.

You returned to find some of your clothes laid out on the couch, courtesy of Lucy and Tamara. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Lucy. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit extra?”

It wasn't exactly what you'd wear for patrolling, but considering Tim probably handed them to Lucy, you couldn't really complain.

Just then, Tamara emerged from her bedroom with a smirk. “You should be thankful I didn’t pick the outfit.”

You chuckled, wondering why she wasn’t at school. “Fair enough. Shouldn’t you be at school by now?”

Tamara waved it off, pulling out her makeup kit. “I’ll miss the first period to do your makeup. You owe me.”

Sighing, you looked between Lucy and Tamara. “Come on, girls. It’s just a day of patrolling. Nothing special.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes serious. “No, hun. Today you’ll be right next to Tim. Breathing in his neck. You need to show him what he’s missing.”

The engine's soft hum reverberates through the car as Tim navigates the streets, the tension inside as thick as the fog rolling in from the bay. Lucy rides shotgun, her mischievous glances back at you adding to the palpable unease. Seated in the back, you stare out the window, attempting to distract yourself with the passing scenery, anything to escape the suffocating silence.

Lucy's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, her cheeriness a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, Bradford," she chirps. "How about we make a quick stop for some coffee and donuts? My treat."

Tim's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, briefly meeting yours before he nods. "Sure, sounds good."

Pulling into a local coffee shop's parking lot, Lucy practically leaps out of the car, leaving you and Tim alone for a fleeting moment.

"You could've called," you murmur softly, finally breaking the suffocating silence. "Three days, Tim."

Tim's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Before you can delve deeper, Lucy returns with a tray laden with coffee and a box of donuts. She hands you a cup before settling into her seat, her eyes glinting with an inscrutable knowingness.

As Tim lifts his coffee to his lips, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. "Everything okay, Tim?" Lucy inquires, her innocence a thin veil over her ulterior motives.

Tim clears his throat, averting his gaze. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess."

Lucy's smirk is unmistakable as she reaches for a donut. "Well, these should help with that."

Taking a sip of your coffee, you feel its warmth spreading through you, but it does little to dispel the tension in the air. However, there's a shift—a subtle change in the atmosphere. The silence is no longer suffocating; instead, it's pregnant with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Tim speaks, his voice laced with vulnerability. "Y/N, about the fight... I never meant to hurt you. I just needed some time to sort things out."

You meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep within you. There's a weight to his words, a heaviness that speaks volumes about the distress he's been wrestling with.

As the shop continues its journey, the tension remains, but it's tempered now by a sense of curiosity and cautious hope. Unbeknownst to you, Tim's anxiety isn't solely about your relationship, and Lucy's scheming grin betrays her satisfaction with how her plan is unfolding.

Throughout the day, Tim's behavior had been perplexing, he carefully avoided any calls that hinted at danger. It felt as though he was intentionally shielding you from harm, a protective barrier wrapped around you even as you yearned for the adrenaline rush of the job.

But the tranquility of the day shattered with Nolan's urgent call for backup. The gravity of the situation hit you like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Nolan, requesting backup at my location. Officers under fire, need immediate assistance,” Nolan’s voice is clear and urgent.

Without hesitation, Tim accepts the call, urgency in his voice for the first time that day. “Roger that, Nolan. We’re en route.”

Tim accelerates towards the scene, the Griffith Observatory coming into view. The iconic building stands majestically atop the hill, its silhouette against the clear blue sky adding a surreal beauty to the unfolding situation.

As you arrived on the scene, the deafening sound of gunfire filled the air, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Lucy and Tim sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful as they navigated the chaos.

"Stay in the car, Y/N!" Tim's command pierced through the chaos, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But as you sat there, the abrupt silence that followed sent a chill down your spine. Lucy's panicked cry for Tim shattered the stillness, sending your heart into overdrive, “Bradford!”

Ignoring Tim's orders, you bolted from the shop, desperation fuelling your every step. The scene before you was a tableau of chaos and confusion, the beauty of the Observatory juxtaposed against the violence that unfolded within its walls.

You searched frantically for any sign of Tim or Lucy, all you found was Tim's abandoned radio, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded.

The setting sun cast long shadows, casting an eerie glow over the scene, a reminder of the fragility of life in the face of danger. And the tension is electric, like the calm before a storm. Tim’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.

“Y/N Buckley, can you hear me?"

Tim's heart races with anticipation as he waits for your response. He's nervous, hoping that you'll hear him clearly. He wonders if you'll be able to sense the nerves in his voice, hoping that you'll understand the significance of what he's about to do.

Grinning, you grab the radio. “Loud and clear, Bradford” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse quickening with each passing second.

A pause stretches out, thick with anticipation. “Close your eyes, Buckley. And this time, try not to defy a direct order.”

Rolling your eyes but intrigued, you humor him and shut your eyes, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You focused on the sound of Tim's voice, letting it wash over you like a warm embrace as he began to speak.

"You and I, Y/N, we’re a wild ride,” Tim starts, his voice unexpectedly tender. “Who would’ve thought our journey would lead us here, to this crazy, beautiful moment?”

As Tim's voice crackled through the radio, a surge of nervous energy swept through him. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt.

The weight of the ring in his hand served as a reminder of the gravity of the situation, filling him with both excitement and trepidation.

A soft touch grazes your hand, sending a thrill up your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You challenge me, drive me nuts, and somehow make me a better man,” he continues through the radio, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And damn it, I love you for it.”

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. As you listen, you feel tears prickling at the corners of your closed eyes. Tim's words resonate with you, stirring something within yourself that you can't quite put into words.

You want to open your eyes, to see the man you love more clearly, but you also want to savor this moment a little while longer.With each word, you feel your heart swell with love for Tim. His vulnerability, his honesty, it all takes your breath away, leaving you utterly captivated.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," Tim's voice breaks through your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment.

With a flutter of excitement, you obey, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the sight before you. There is Tim, his eyes filled with love and longing as he slowly kneels down before your eyes, a small velvet box in his hand. The sight of him, vulnerable and trembling, fills you with a sense of awe and gratitude as the setting sun casts a golden halo around him, the cityscape stretching out behind him in a breathtaking panorama.

Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in the sight of the ring in his hand, your heart overflowing with love for the man who means the world to you.

“Y/N Buckley,” Tim’s voice wavers just a bit, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you are stunned into silence, your mind reeling with the weight of his question. You feel a surge of emotion welling up inside, threatening to spill over at any moment. This is it, the moment you've been dreaming of, the moment you've been waiting for since you laid eyes on Tim, few years back.

Tim chuckles, a nervous but endearing laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

"Yes, Tim. A thousand times, yes!" your voice choked with tears, as your words ring out into the night, a declaration of love and commitment that echoes through the air.

With a trembling hand, Tim slips the ring onto your finger, sealing their promise with a simple yet profound gesture. As your eyes meet once more, you share a moment of perfect understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the love that binds you together.

Without another word, you're in each other's arms, holding onto each other tightly as if trying to make up for all the time you've lost. In that moment, nothing else matters but the overwhelming love you share, a love that has weathered every storm and emerged stronger than ever before.

Tim's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a sweet yet passionate embrace that speaks volumes more than words ever could. You cling to each other, lost in the intensity of your emotions, your hearts beating as one in the darkness.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you share a smile that lights up the night. In each other's arms, you find solace and strength, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Nolan chimes in through the radio, his voice filled with laughter. "Bradford, are we breaking out the champagne or what?"

Tim's smile widens at Nolan's words, and he glances over at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Hold off on the champagne, Nolan," he replies, unable to suppress a laugh. "She said yes."

Murmuring softly, Tim leaned in close to your ear. "I guess I didn’t mess this one up, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace. "Not this time, Bradford."

[blue-jisungs]

silent hug

author's note. this is veeeery self indulgent bc my exams r killing me so yeah 👍

genre. hurt to comfort (i think?), classmates to friends ??? idk man just whipped n cute sunoo

summary. in which your classmate comforts you when you tear up in class :(

warnings. cursing, reader is in a bad place mentally,, kinda hinting to academic burnout? ,, crying :( + not proofread, sorry!!

word count. 1286

with a heavy sigh you plopped down on the chair, putting your bag on the desk. the walk from the bus stop to the university tired you out but at least you got four or five minutes before the classes started. so you rested your head against the bag and closed your eyes, taking in a little more sleep than you could get this morning.

the final season is coming to an end, finally. but weirdly enough, you don’t feel relieved. sure, there’s only three or four exams left – and you haven’t really studied for them but that’s a thing to do the day before, isn’t it? – but you can’t help but feel the exhaustion. your friends chat about how there’s less things to take then it was at the beginning, sure. but the closer you get to the midterm break, the less motivation you have. and the tiredness that accumulated throughout the whole month is seeking its way out.

which is why you’re a mess nowadays. promising yourself to study but ending up doing everything but studying, falling asleep at ungodly hours (and regretting it later)… or shutting yourself down from the world. your friends got used to it, everyone has their lives after classes after all. but you carry on with do not disturb on most of the time, missing out their conversations on chats and tiktoks they’ve sent you. sure, you could’ve read them later – but there’s a sinking feeling of guilt (and a dazzle of overthinking) that you’re such a shitty friend.

all of this causes your negative emotions to bottle up. and you know it’s not a good thing, especially when you feel like you’re about to cry when a minor inconvenience occurs. but you’re stronger than that, no? the thought of locking yourself in your room during the break keeps you alive, pushing the sadness – seemingly – away.

a sudden tap on your shoulder caused you to open your eyes and lazily shift your focus to your classmate, sunoo. you looked around and didn’t see your friends… well, they probably skipped the classes since some of them are careless just like that.

"it’s about to start" sunoo smiled gently and you noticed the way his ebony gaze lingered on you for a while longer. great, you should’ve put at least some foundation.

"thanks" you nodded and took out your ipad, the other hand rubbing your eye. here we go…

"i feel like… some people in this class don’t take my lessons seriously" the professor started and you froze, heart skipping a beat. he couldn’t possibly mean you, right? “the final exam is around the corner and some of you… did not too well on the quiz"

oh, well. it’s definitely aimed at you.

"i’ll hand them out at the end of the class and then run over your mistakes. now we’ll do a revision. and you better listen" the man says and you could swear his piercing gaze is drilling into your soul.

an unpleasant feeling of warmth creeped into your face and once again you curse yourself for not putting any makeup. sunoo glanced at you, a sad smile on his lips.

the professor approached you at the end, when all of the students already left. putting the paper sheet with a nasty P– on it, you frowned. hey, you passed!

"y/n, i’m really disappointed. i don’t know what’s going on but that’s the worst work of yours so far. pull yourself together. there’s so many major mistakes… spellings… it’s not an academic level. you were one point away from not passing this one" his words hit a cord in your heart, your palms beginning to sweat. he patted the paper and returned to his desk, grabbing his stuff.

and you didn’t even know when that happened – your sweaty palms shaking, breath getting stuck in your throat, vision blurry because of tears.

you packed your things and wanted to leave but your legs felt too weak. your professor left, causing you to end up all alone in the room.

you sniffed, trying to wipe out the tears but they seemed to have other plans.

"don’t cry, idiot. it’s fucking embarrassing" you breathed out to yourself, voice barely above a whisper.

"y/n, if you want… oh. are you okay?"

you would normally look up to see who that was but the realization of someone even seeing you in such state caused your face to redden even more. pulling your t-shirt up to hide your face in it, you felt like there was no way out: you couldn’t possibly stop crying. it was like your professor’s words triggered something.

"i’m… hey, it’s okay. did he say anything bad to you? or do?" someone approached you and you shook your head as a no. "can i stay here?"

you hesitantly peeled from your shirt and noticed sunoo. his gaze softened upon seeing your teary eyes, lashes wet and flushed face.

"just… don’t mind me" you mumbled and hid your face in your shirt again. you just couldn’t stand someone seeing you in such state, whether it was someone close or a stranger.

"i… i don’t know what he said but i’ve noticed that there’s something going on with you. and may have heard what your friends said... do you want to talk about it?" sunoo asked gently and all he could hear were the harsh sobs leaving your lips.

"they talk about me behind my back?" you whined, your shoulders shaking even more. his eyes widened. that was not the best thing to say…

"no, no! i mean they said you look really tired lately…" he explained hastily and suddenly you looked up. your shirt was soaked with tears and your face was a mess, your pupils blown and wet stains on your cheeks.

"i’m so tired, sunoo. i don’t think i can handle this anymore… and everyone seems to be doing great… just not me…" you mumbled, sending him a sad smile. the pearly tears balanced at the edge of your waterline, ready to spill. he shook his head.

"you’ve got this, i know you do. you got here somehow in the first place, no? if you want, i can help you. with anything. i’m not the smartest but i do understand some things so…" he stopped talking upon seeing your curious gaze.

"why are you doing this?” you asked, sniffling.

"i just… you’re my classmate in a need of help. i couldn’t stand there and not do anything when i heard you cry. and now there’s no way out, isn’t it?" sunoo joked and his face lit up. oh, this boy was a literal sunshine.

"you said everything?" you mumbled, unsurely. he nodded, a caring smile tugging on his lips "can… hmpfh… can i hug you…?"

the words were so quiet, sunoo barely heard them. but he noticed the begging look in your eyes and who was he to deny? it’s not like he would mind, either.

sunoo just opened your arms and you hugged him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist. he patted your back soothingly, letting you let out all of your pent up stress.

a part of sunoo’s heart raced because he wouldn’t have ever imagined that he would hug his hallway crush. the other part which caused his heart to race was the embrace itself, your smell and you in general – and he was happy he could help you.

neither of you didn’t have to talk right now. a silent hug that expressed more than a sentences could ever. and both of you knew, sitting here glued to each other and in comfortable silence, that it was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ocean-minho ,, @s-e-s-a-l-e-n-e ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[cloudbersoo]

would you mind?｜zhang hao

synopsis: how to get over a guy you didn’t even date in ten easy steps with the help of zhang hao.

tags: zhang hao x gn!reader, acquaintances to lovers, university au, fluff, slight angst, y/n likes someone else at the beginning, y/n is very drunk, making out when drunk, shy!hao, bestie!matthew has no filter, roommate!taerae, hanbin keeps laughing, what did jiwoong do though? y/n overthinks a little sometimes, mentions of sex and implied sex but no explicit smut! (im a minor and can’t write smut for the life of me)

word count: 6k (how did this get so long?)

a/n: this is my first fic in like six years and the first in english altogether! idk how to feel about this one but i thought to post it anyway. writing this honestly made me respect fanfic writers so much more, it really isn’t easy! this took me like five days to make. not sure how often i’ll be doing this but i enjoyed writing a lot. sorry for any grammar errors or such, i proofread this a couple of times, but my english isn’t perfect, so some mistakes might go past me. anyway, thanks and sorry! enjoy reading!

my playlist while writing: in bloom & new kidz on the block by zb1, cream soda & private party by exo, roller coaster & party o’clock by nmixx !!

i. drink your feelings away

“finally you’re here” matthew mumbled in his slightly drunken stage, leaning onto a wall as you closed the door behind you. you could hear the music and people’s chatter coming from the living room. the smell of alcohol was also very strong, especially on your friend. you wished you could just turn back and go home. you were way too miserable to party right now but the sweet smile matthew was giving you was making you stay. you couldn’t possibly disappoint your best friend on his special day.

“yeah, sorry for being late” you finally answered to the birthday boy as you handed out your gift with a forced smile. “happy birthday matt.” 

he took the bottle of wine and chuckled. “thank you y/n” he said, looking at the bottle of his favourite. “for this and for coming tonight” he continued as he raised his gaze to you apologetically. 

“of course” you uttered, trying your best to convince your friend you wanted to be here, as if you didn’t just think about leaving two seconds ago. your convincing didn’t seem to be working as matthew sighed. matthew put down the bottle and walked in front of you. he examined your face for a while before he embraced you in a hug. “he didn’t deserve you anyway” he whispered close to your ear.

right.

jaemin.

the guy who broke your heart just a few days ago. he didn’t mean to, you suppose. he just didn’t realise you were totally in love with him when he introduced you to his partner of three years. how stupid could you be?

you held your tiers in at the mention of him. not today. you can cry about it later. 

you embraced your friend for a while as you collected yourself. “you know what matt?” You finally spoke as you made eye contact with him. matthew hummed, looking at you with anticipation. 

“i’m going to have fun tonight.”

ii. embarrass yourself

about five bottles of soju and a couple beers later you were completely out of it. you were somewhere in matthew’s apartment, kitchen or living room, you were not entirely sure. laying on the cold floor with zero thoughts of your shattered heart. you felt at peace. your peace, however, didn’t last long as it was eventually broken by a familiar voice calling your name. 

“y/n? you okay down there?” the voice asked with amusement. you opened your eyes and were met with hanbin’s gaze from above you. he must have found your state hilarious as he bursted out laughing. 

you got up from the floor with difficulty and flopped next to him on the couch. “never been better” you mumbled to your friend with a relaxed smile. you started making yourself comfortable and leaned your head on hanbin’s shoulder. what you failed to notice in your drunken state was the other person sitting on the couch. the one you were currently cuddling up to.

“hao” your friend started. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen y/n so wasted” hanbin laughed with tears in his eyes. 

what. 

suddenly, you were too aware of your surroundings, like there was no alcohol in your system anymore. you quickly got up and saw that hanbin was not in fact the person you had leaned into. the person sitting next to you was hanbin’s good friend, zhang hao. the boy’s face flushed as he looked at your shocked face.

oh my god.

you were not that familiar with zhang hao. you knew he was good friends with hanbin and matthew. he was from the music department just like your roommate taerae, and you were pretty sure he played the violin. he was reserved and quiet, and definitely not the most fond of you (even though your friends have tried to convince you otherwise). a friend of a friend. that’s what he was. not someone who you could comfortably cuddle with. this is so embarrassing.

“i’m so sorry!” you quickly blurted out as you hid your face behind your palms. you could still hear hanbin’s laugh as you were thinking about your way out of the situation. 

“it’s o-okay” zhang hao managed to stutter. you were in too deep thought to hear what the boy in front of you was saying. you searched for your other friend in the crowd. it’s time for me to leave. as you found matthew by the balcony with a girl, you turned back to the men on the couch. “i’m just gonna go!” you quickly said to prevent any more embarrassment and made your way to your best friend.

he saw you coming from afar and smirked at you. “you’ve definitely enjoyed yourself” matthew said delightfully. oh. he definitely saw everything.

“you saw nothing” you bit back and leaned onto your friend as the alcohol started to kick back in again. “i’m going home” you continued. could you even walk straight? no. but you could just call your roommate to meet you halfway.

“in this state? no you’re not” the boy slurred just as drunk as you were. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep you from leaving. you were glad your friend cared about your safety even when he was drunk. his company, however, was not enjoying the sight in front of her and you could tell you had interrupted something. 

“i’ll call taerae to pick me up, don’t worry.” you assured your friend. “i’ll leave you two alone now.” you gave a smile to the girl and mouthed “sorry” as you left the two before matthew could protest any further.

iii. make a foolish choice

walking down four sets of stairs with your hands occupied by your phone was a challenge. you somehow made it though and were trying to contact your roommate. he was not answering. where is he? your apartment wasn’t that far from matthew’s but the darkness was creeping you out a little. you sent a quick text to taerae, saying you were coming home before you started your journey. 

you had made it past a couple turns when you started feeling like someone was following you. you’re just being paranoid, that's all. but the feeling only grew stronger as you clearly heard footsteps behind you. you were already walking as fast as you could in your state. is this the end?  “i’m gonna die-”

“y/n,” you quickly turned around to the familiar voice. 

zhang hao.

“oh it’s just you” you said as you relaxed until it hit you. zhang hao. the reason why you had run away from the party in the first place. your surprise finally showed on your face, which zhang hao found amusing. 

"sorry if I scared you” he let out an airy laugh while awkwardly standing in front of you. for some reason you had never really looked at the boy. he was tall and his hair was still styled nicely even after a long day. he was wearing a light blue button up shirt with black jeans that seemed way out of your price range. there was something about the way he was looking at you under the glow of the streetlights. he was looking at you with stars in his eyes, like there was no one else but the two of you in the world. the sight of him almost made your heart skip a beat. he had a few moles on his face, one right under his eye and another on his cheek that you wish you could kiss right now. has he always been this pretty? 

no. why is he here? 

he tried to give you a reassuring smile as he took a step closer. “you shouldn’t walk alone at this hour, it’s not safe for you.” he continued like he had just read your mind.

“so you think I'm safe with you?” you asked, slightly teasing. it was definitely the alcohol speaking.

the boy’s eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth to say something but failed. “well- I mean” zhang hao finally responded with panic, not quite sure what he was supposed to say. you couldn’t hold your giggles which seemed to ease his nerves. his figure seemed to relax as he walked past you. “my apartment isn’t that far from yours, so we can just walk together. it’s safer for both of us.” zhang hao finished. 

lies. you’ve once picked hanbin up from his apartment and it's nowhere near yours. however, zhang hao didn’t need to know that you knew. you wouldn’t mind walking home with him even if the two of you weren’t that close, because he was right – this was safer (not because he suddenly made you think of things you haven't before).

so, the two of you continued walking towards your place. zhang hao didn’t say much as you walked, only telling you to be more careful as you almost stumbled to the ground. he also decided to hold you up from your waist from that point on – which you definitely didn’t mind. he didn’t seem to mind either as there was no signs of annoyance that you would’ve except from zhang hao in this situation.  

“we’re here” he said as the two of you stood in front of your apartment building. you really didn’t want him to go. you really didn’t want to be alone at all. because you knew the moment you were alone again you’d break down again and cry about the guy who broke your heart. just for this one night, you wished not to cry yourself to sleep. maybe it was foolish of you to ask zhang hao of all people to comfort you, but right now you couldn’t think of anything else. 

“would you like to come in?”

“do you need help to get to your door?”

you both had talked at the same time. you broke eye contact as the two of you chuckled. so he didn’t want to leave yet either? as it got quiet again you decided to look at the boy again. zhang hao seemed hesitant as he studied your face. then he smiled at you as he said “if that’s what you need.”

iv. get cockbocked by a roommate

some might find the silence between you and zhang hao awkward, but you found it soothing. he was drinking the water you had given him as you sat on the kitchen counter. he looked even more handsome up close. the way he was leaning onto the counter and the way he was looking at you. oh, how much you wished to make him yours tonight. would he mind? 

your mind stopped wandering as the boy put down his glass on the sink. “i should probably go and let you sleep” he said quietly as he stood in front of you. he was incredibly close to you, his hand on your knee, his nose almost touching yours – like he didn’t want to leave. you couldn’t help but lower your gaze to his lips. they were pink and puffy, slightly wet like they were waiting to be kissed. you looked back to zhang hao’s eyes but they didn’t meet yours. he was doing the same thing – staring at your lips. 

maybe you were going to regret it. maybe this wasn’t right, kissing your friends’ friend. but you couldn’t possibly think about any of that as you leaned in. 

his lips felt as soft as they looked. it took a moment for zhang hao to realise what was happening but eventually he kissed you back. his left hand landed on your cheek as his right hand went up your thigh. the kiss deepened as you put your hands around the boy's neck, pulling him closer to you. you don’t remember the last time you have been kissed like this. he was driving you insane and you wished he’d never stop. 

“y/n?” you hear a voice say at the door. 

taerae.

you and zhang hao froze before you rapidly let go of each other. sleepy taerae rubbed his eyes walking into the kitchen as you tried to calm your beating heart. so he didn’t answer because he was asleep. you took a look at zhang hao who’s blush was prominent even in the dark. “when did you get home?” your roommate asked as he yawned.

“zhang hao walked me, i was just giving him some water before he left.” you blurted out an excuse, which wasn’t inherently a lie – taerae didn’t need to know what happened after that. your sleepy roommate didn’t look suspicious and seemed to buy it. “he was actually just about to leave.” you took another look at zhang hao, trying to get him to say something. 

“yeah, i’ll just get going then.” he said, bid taerae goodbye, and was out of the apartment in mere minutes. 

fuck.

v. overthink your life choices

lunch used to be your favourite time of the day, mostly because you used to share it with jaemin all the time. matthew barely ever had time to eat lunch with you, which is how you got to know jaemin in the first place. the two of you clicked instantly and you thought there was something between you. how wrong you were. the past week you have been distancing yourself from jaemin and he hasn't been asking after you. you really meant nothing to him in the end. even now he’s just a few tables away loudly debating about something with his group of friends, completely unaware of the effect he has had on you.

taerae’s giggles seem to wake you from your slumber. you moved your gaze from jaemin to your roommate. he was laughing over a video hanbin had just shown him. “what is jiwoong doing?” he managed to say between giggles. 

“speaking of the devil” hanbin said as he waved past your shoulder. jiwoong walked to your table with zhang hao next to him, which was odd as the two of you’ve had a similar relationship with the chinese boy up until a few days ago (unless jiwoong had also been making out with him recently). “what did i do?” jiwoong questioned his friends as he placed his lunch on the table.

“nothing, nothing. where’s matthew?” hanbin said as he hid his phone with a grin.

“he’s on a date” you said nonchalantly. everyone at the table suddenly turned their heads towards you. they had totally forgotten you were even there as you had spent most of your break staring at a certain someone. you should get your shit together.

“oh right, zhang hao! thanks for walking y/n home the other night.” taerae said as zhang hao sat next to hanbin. well shit. you hadn’t told anyone of what had happened with zhang hao after matthew’s party. you hadn’t even talked to zhang hao since then. you felt awful that you had tried to use him to forget about someone else, and then kicked him out as your roommate found the two of you. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to even bring it up to him when you were never alone with him anyway. 

“you walked her home?” hanbin questioned as he turned his head to his left where zhang hao was sitting. the boy only gave his friend a small nod as he dug into his food. his aura seemed so different in the daylight. his hair wasn’t styled like at the party, it was a bit all over the place. the way he stuffed his mouth full of food made him look cute. his cheeks were slightly pink with blush. while observing the boy, you had completely missed the teasing smile on hanbin’s face.

how were you supposed to talk to him? thanks for walking me home and making out with me in my kitchen. does he even want to talk about it? the two of you had seen each other around campus a couple times since then and he hasn't tried to talk to you once. maybe all of it was just a spur of the moment thing for him that he now wished to forget about.

you sighed as you decided it was your time to leave for class. there was no way you were going to talk to zhang hao now anyway, not in front of all your friends. “my lecture is starting soon, i’ll go now.” you said as you stood up. taking your things with you and hearing people say their goodbyes, you were on your way.

“wait, are we just going to ignore the fact that matthew is on a date?” you could hear jiwoong ask behind you.

vi. get help

“so…” matthew said in a teasing tone as he sat across from you at the library. 

“so, what?” you questioned, like you had no idea what your best friend was referring to. well, in your defence, you never knew with matthew, but you had a feeling this conversation topic started with a z and ended with hang hao. “you and hao?” he continued, just like you had anticipated, raising his eyebrows. 

“what about me and zhang hao?” you continued, acting clueless in the hopes of him dropping the conversation. 

“after what i saw at my birthday party and then hearing he walked you home, i hoped the two of you worked out the weird tension between you two and finally fucked” your friend blurted out in a very matthew way, like it was the most obvious conclusion to come to in the world. 

“we did not!” you raised your voice a little too much as you tried to defend yourself. you got a few judging stares from the people around you who were trying to study. something you were supposed to do as well, instead of having this conversation about zhang hao. “we didn’t fuck…” you continued more quietly. there was no reason for you to lie to your best friend. not when you could use his help.

“but you were going to?” he gave you a knowing look.

“well yeah, but then taerae woke up and i panicked and i kinda kicked zhang hao out-” you started rambling. wait. “how did you know we almost fucked? did he talk to you? what did he say? does he totally hate me now?” you continued like you were going to lose your mind. and now matthew was laughing at you, trying his best to stay quiet. 

“i haven’t talked to anyone, except hanbin, he’s just as convinced there’s something going on between you and hao as i am” your friend finally spoke. if only you knew what was going on between the two of you. you sighed and hit your head on the table. “what’s the problem y/n? you know, you could just text him and ask him" matthew said.

“i don’t have his number” you mumble in despair. 

“what? how can you not have his number?” matthew asked, confused.

“why would i? was i supposed to ask for it when we were making out or something?” you said as you lifted your head from the table, looking at your friend who definitely didn’t need to hear any more details of that night.

matthew took his phone out of his pocket, and gave it to you after a moment. “here, take his number and text him”

vii. become friends

you were currently sitting down at a park you had agreed to meet with zhang hao. matthew was able to convince you it was better to sort things out with zhang hao sooner than later. but now that you were here, waiting for the guy, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. it was warm as summer was finally coming and you felt like you were sweating buckets. was it the weather or your nerves – you were not quite sure.

“hi, did you have to wait long?” you hear a familiar voice from your left and see zhang hao’s figure coming towards you. he waved at you while giving you a sweet smile. damn. he’s so pretty. 

“oh no, not at all” you answered, trying to give the boy a smile to hide your nervousness. 

“what did you want to talk about?” zhang hao said calmly as he sat down next to you. unlike the other night, now he had left much space between the two of you. he didn’t seem nervous at all, which made you feel uneasy. maybe this wasn’t as big of a deal for him as it was for you. 

“at matt’s party, i’m sorry for being such a mess and dragging you into it” you decided to tell him. “i had a few too many drinks that night.” you took a look at zhang hao. he seemed surprised, maybe a little hurt as he tried to get comfortable on the bench. was that not the right thing to say?  “i mean, i probably made you uncomfortable and then i rushed you out of my place when taerae woke up, it was super rude of me to-” you were starting to ramble. 

“i wasn’t uncomfortable” he cut you off. he finally turned to look at you again “i wouldn’t have come in if i was.” there was the look again, making your heart beat louder on your chest. he was looking at you like he did under the streetlights, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. you wouldn’t mind getting lost in his eyes. “so don’t be too sorry, i enjoyed it as long as it lasted.” he gave you a shy smile.

oh.

this was the first time the boy had made you blush, usually it was the other way around. you broke eye contact to hide your shyness from him. “cool, cool” you started quite awkwardly. “we should probably be casual about all this, since we're friends and all…”

“we’re friends now? i’m cool with that” zhang hao replied with amusement.

“i mean, we’ve known each other long enough to call us that, i guess” you tried to reason, not realising your friend was only teasing you. as you turned your gaze back to him you saw him still smiling at you. this man will be the death of me. “well that’s that. sorry i can’t stay longer, i have places to be. bye zhang hao.” you said as you got up from the bench. you had nowhere to be, but you couldn’t possibly handle being in zhang hao’s presence any longer. 

“bye friend!” he yelled after you still with a teasing tone.

viii. feel nothing

you and your new friend zhang hao have gotten along well since your talk at the park. nothing has changed that much, except now you greet each other at campus, engage in conversation together, and sometimes share memes with each other. you have tried to convince matthew that you and zhang hao are really just friends and nothing more. matthew just can’t help himself when he teases you with kissy noises every time you interact with zhang hao. he’s the only other person that knows about your little secret. even hanbin doesn’t know, because if he did — everyone would. 

you were finally finished with your last class of the day, walking out of your department building. you felt at ease as everything in your life was finally going well. you were able to sort things out with zhang hao, you weren’t particularly struggling with any classes, and you were barely thinking about him, who shall not be named. 

as if on cue, there he was standing a few meters away from you. jaemin. he wasn’t alone though, as he was having a conversation with someone. you couldn’t quite tell what the two were talking about, not that really even mattered to you. contrary to popular belief, your heart no longer ached at the sight of him. you continued your journey with no intent to interact with jaemin, at least not until you realised who exactly he was talking with. when you were close enough you could recognize the other man’s voice.

what was zhang hao doing with jaemin? the sight in front of you felt really odd, but you couldn’t possibly look away. zhang hao almost towered over jaemin, paying attention to what the latter was talking about. he was wearing glasses that complimented his face well. one of his sleeves was rolled up revealing his toned arm. he looked so mesmerising, you couldn't help but stare.

it didn’t take long for you to be caught staring as jaemin called out your name. “wow it’s been so long. how have you been?” he asked happily as you took a few steps closer to the two. zhang hao was surprised to see you, his gaze moving between you and jaemin. his face filled with worry made you think he must have heard about jaemin and you from someone (definitely not from hanbin). you gave zhang hao a reassuring smile as you greeted jaemin, who was ready to embrace you in a hug. 

“i’ve been well” you sounded a little awkward as the two of you let go. an act that used to make your heart do backflips no longer felt like anything. “what were you two talking about? i didn’t know you even knew each other.” you asked out of curiosity as you stood next to zhang hao, who suddenly put his arm around your shoulder. you turned your head towards your friend, trying to understand what he was up to. 

“we’ve shared a few classes here and there” zhang hao said as he turned his head to face you. he was so close to you again, making your heart beat louder on your chest. “you’re ready to go?” he continued. you could only show your confusion on your face as you didn’t trust your voice to say anything at the close proximity. “dinner? remember?” he gave you a wink.

what? you were completely lost. what was this man talking about? 

“oooh, date night?” jaemin cooed in front of you. he took his headphones out of his back and put them over his ears. “i won't waste your time anymore then. y/n we should totally catch up sometime!” he didn’t wait for your response before he left. 

you and zhang hao stayed close to each other in silence for a while. you wondered if he could hear the way your heart was beating for him. you tried to look for answers from his face but to no avail. finally, zhang hao moved and removed his hand off of you, what had felt like way too soon. “sorry” he said as he stood in front of you. “you must have felt awkward seeing him” he continued, scratching the back of his neck. 

“did you do all that to get rid of him? i’m fine, i don’t like him like that anymore” you felt the need to clarify to him.

“oh” he said, blush breaking to his face and neck. “well, i was getting tired of him anyway” he excused and removed his gaze from you to hide his embarrassment. you thought he looked the cutest whenever he got shy or embarrassed. 

your laugh seemed to peak his interest again, as he turned his gaze back on you. your blushing face, matching his own. a comfortable silence fell between you again. ”just friends huh?” you could hear matthew’s teasing voice in your head.

“y/n?” zhang hao eventually spoke. you hummed as a response, waiting him to carry on. “have you eaten yet?” the boy continued hesitantly. 

“no, not yet” you answered truthfully, not quite sure where the conversation was going. zhang hao stayed quiet for a while. he was nervously shifting on his place, turning his face away from you once again. he was trying to find the right way to ask you.

“would you like to go out for dinner then?” he asked carefully. 

“sure!” you answered enthusiastically. you were starving at this point and wouldn’t mind spending some time with friends as well. “who else is coming?” 

“well, i thought it could be just us…” the boy responded, still not daring to look at you. 

oh.

“oh! that works too. sure. yeah.” you replied, definitely not embarrassed that you didn’t get the hint right away. “does indian sound good to you? i’m craving butter chicken” you continued, trying to move the conversation onwards, while your heart kept beating hard against your chest. 

“if that’s what you want, it’s good with me” zhang hao said and the two of you started your way out of campus, both a blushing mess.

ix. feel everything

you were not entirely sure what to think. had you just been on a date? zhang hao didn’t explicitly call it that, but it surely had felt like one. the dinner went smoothly, it didn’t feel awkward and the two of you were able to talk to each other comfortably. he constantly smiled at you and asked you questions about your life, putting the effort into getting to know you. he even insisted on paying for your meal in the end. 

you got to know things about him as well, as zhang hao no longer felt shy talking to you. he’s an only child and very close with his mom. he chose to play the violin, because it’s much easier to carry around compared to a cello. him and jiwoong have gotten closer lately because jiwoong had asked him to help him with a song he has been working on. he also revealed that he was glad that the two of you have gotten closer, which made you question things even more.

you were walking to your apartment in silence, completely sober this time. zhang hao had insisted on walking you home again, “as a man should” he had said. the way his hand was accidentally brushing against yours every once in a while was giving you butterflies in your stomach. you were not entirely sure if the man next to you even realises how much of an effect he had on you. you weren’t walking that fast because you really didn’t want the night to end. 

must to your dismay, you ended up in front of your apartment building. it felt like deja vu, standing in front of him again. you didn’t want zhang hao to leave, but you weren’t sure if it was appropriate to invite him in. you couldn't hide behind the confidence alcohol had given you last time. you didn't know what to say, so you settled on just staring at his face, completely mesmerised. he was doing the same, his gaze wandering on your face, like he was trying to remember each little detail of you. 

“i should…” zhang hao started, now looking straight into your eyes. “i should probably go now” he continued, not at all convincing. he made no effort to move, which finally gave you the confidence to talk. it won’t hurt to ask, right?

“i could offer you a glass of water before you go” you said, tearing your gaze away, still slightly scared of what he might answer. “you know, taerae’s not home tonight…” you added. as you heard no answer from the boy, you hesitantly took a look at him. he was smiling at you again, the way he had been all dinner. 

zhang hao took a step closer, raising his hand to hold your chin, making you hold eye contact with him. he lowered his gaze slowly to your lips, looking at you like you were someone to be desired. “you sure?” he finally spoke in a lower voice, still staring at your lips. you could only hum in response. and then he leaned in to kiss you. 

his lips were soft, but he pushed them hard against yours. he tasted like cherries as you kissed him back. the kiss deepened quickly as his tongue pushed past your lips. his arms lowered to your hips, pulling you closer, as you put yours behind his neck, playing with his hair. you didn’t stop until you both were almost running out of air.

zhang hao let out an airy laugh. “i’ve wanted to do that for a while” he confessed, your arms still tangled around each other. he was looking at you with so much adoration.

“yeah? me too” you smiled, your cheeks slightly pink. you let go of the boy to open the door to your apartment building. he held onto your arm as the two of you walked towards the elevator. you turned to look at zhang hao, who’s cheeks were a shade of pink as well. he noticed you staring and gave you another sweet smile. the door finally opened, and he couldn’t even wait till you got to your apartment, as he stole another kiss from you as you entered the elevator.

“i honestly thought you didn’t like me at all” you admitted to him as you parted from the kiss.

“that’s what hanbin always told me” zhang hao answered, now with a pout on his lips. “i was just too shy to talk to you, you’re like the most gorgeous person i’ve ever laid my eyes on” he continued, no longer daring to look you in the eye. even he seemed a little surprised by his sudden confession. 

oh. 

you’ve received compliments before, but hearing one from zhang hao felt different. your cheeks heated up again, and you could feel your excitement all the way down on your stomach. you wanted him so badly, you could only wish he felt the same way. when the elevator stopped, you decided to quickly peck the boy's cheek before you dragged him to your apartment.

once the door to your apartment closed behind you, you were all over each other. his lips connected with yours as your arms roamed all over your bodies. you couldn’t get enough of him, wanting him even closer to you. you stumbled over to your bedroom, where you gave him one more kiss before backing away.

zhang hao looked at you with concern. “are you okay?” he asked while still holding you closely.

“yeah, i just- i want to make sure you want this as much i do” you answered, studying his face for any signs of regret or hesitation. 

“i really like you y/n, and i want this more than you think” he admitted. he detached one of his hands from you to remove his glasses out of the way, putting them down to your nightstand. he lowered his hand on your cheek, cherishing it gently. “let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

so you let him, as you kissed him again.

x. fall in love

you were still out of breath as you cuddled up to zhang hao’s bare body. he wrapped his hand around you and squeezed you closer to him, twirling your hair with his fingers. you laid your head against his chest, drawing circles on his toned body, sighing with content. you felt zhang hao’s lips against your forehead, giving you a peck after peck. the act made you giggle, turning your gaze to him.

“what?” you asked.

“nothing, i’m just really happy” he answered, giving you one more kiss on your lips. he looked at you with so much love and warmth, which made you feel like you were dreaming. you couldn’t help but wonder what made you deserve to meet someone like zhang hao. no one has made you feel this good in such a long time, if ever. suddenly, very overwhelmed with your feelings, you hid your face on the crook of his neck.

you felt zhang hao’s chest vibrate from the laughter he let out. “cute” he whispered quietly, mostly to just himself, cherishing your head again. you got comfortable again, almost falling asleep in his embrace. his breath also evening out as he was slowly drifting away to sleep too.

“i really like you too, zhang hao” you sleepily mumbled against his skin, before the two of you fell into dreamland together.

- end

bonus:

“why do you always call me zhang hao?”

“maybe because it’s your name??”

“yes, but everyone calls me hao. you’re the only one who calls me zhang hao”

“oh”

“well, hao, i’ll call you that from now on”

the boy’s face flushed red as he finally heard you say his name. 

“oh my god, you’re so cute!” 

he turns his face to hide his blush from you.

“shut up”

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Im in a fucking rollllll. This series is my current hyper fixation and since I don’t really have an uploading schedule I just do it whenever lol. Also I LOOOVE reading all of y’all comments, they’re funny and they warm my heart. Y’all got me kicking my feet, giggling, blushing, twirling my hair. Anyways, apologies for If Miguel’s ooc and any spelling mistakes and grammatical errors since this isn’t proofread. Y’all may feast lol.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Cursing, angst.

Word count: 1.4k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4: Are there some aces up your sleeve?

—

“(Y/N), that is the 4th time you messed up the Camel spin today. If you can’t do it then we’ll just take it out of the program-“

“No! No, I can do it coach! I’m just having an off day and-“

“That’s not an excuse. Regionals are in late October, it is September. There shouldn’t be any excuse, we’re been doing this on repeat. This should be muscle memory.”

Coach Kavinsky words were only twisting the knife. You brought your shaky hands up to cover your nose and mouth, attempting to warm your face a bit and keep yourself from sobbing. Ever since you woke up in the morning everything has gone to shit. You failed your exam in your math class, on your way to your english class, you tripped and dropped your Starbucks, causing it to spill all over your shoes, and now you kept messing up the program. Logan could tell you were mere minutes away from a breakdown, your eyes were wet and your breathing was rapid, partly from skating and partly because you were trying to keep an oncoming panic attack at bay. “I-I can do it! I can do it, I just need a minute-“ you stutter and stumbles over your words, you bring your gloved hands over your face and placing them on the top of your hands.

“I think we should take a break coach, (Y/N) just needs to get some fresh air, right (Y/N)?” Logan said in a calm voice as the put his hand on your shoulder, but you quickly shook it off.

“No, it’s okay I can do it. See?” You were going hysterical, getting into position to do the spin only to fail the spin and fall butt first on the ice. Okay now you were having a breakdown.

“Jesus… okay. Logan take her outside, help her calm down will you?” Coach Kavinsky said to Logan who just nodded, waiting for you to move to your knees to help you get up and out of the rink.

—

“I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me today…” You stuttered in between shallow breaths, Logan’s hand rubbing slow smooth circles on your back in an attempt to help you calm down. “I’ve- I’ve never had trouble with that spin before- I just- I-“ you couldn’t finish, you’re stutters just devolving into more sobs as you put your face into your partner’s chest, tears spilling out. “I’m getting your shirt all wet…” You managed to say with a small chuckle as you pulled away after a few minutes, but the laugh was devoid of any warmness or joy. Your hand wiping some left over tears from your cheeks.

“It’s fine, I’m more worried about my best friend.” Logan said with a small smile, the hand that was rubbing your back now tracing up to your shoulders and pulling you closer to him in a side hug, you let out a small sigh as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks Logan… I’m sorry… I’m a totally mess…” You mumbled as you wipe some more tears away, your eyes red and puff, a headache slowly creeping up on you from all the crying.

—

“Why… the fuck my is Ice princess and her little skating partner so close…” Miguel thought as he got out car, slamming the door without realizing as he glares at you and Logan from his spot across the parking lot. You or Logan hadn’t seen him since you were both so far away, and were more focused on trying to calm you down, Miguel was too far to noticed your tear stained face.

“Damn Miguel, dent the door why don’t you.” Peter attempted to joke while getting out from the passenger seat but his voice faltered, letting out a nervous chuckle after. Peter already knew the team was gonna be used as Miguel’s personal stress ball for the entirety of the practice time. Miguel just sent a glare at him in response, a small grunt escapes his lips as both of them grab their bags and hockey sticks from the back seat. “You seem more mad than usual, wanna talk about it? Or are you just gonna “accidentally” slam half the team into the boards like always?” He probes his captain, but he already knew his answer. Everyone on the team knew that Miguel isn’t a talk-about-your-feelings person.

“Shut up Parker.” He mutters as he slings his bag on his shoulders, closing and locking the door before both males started to make their way to the entrance. You currently burying your face into Logan’s shoulder, so Miguel couldn’t see your face, and Logan’s head was resting on top of yours, his arm still over your shoulders, his thumb creasing small circles on your shoulder. As soon as you were in ear-shot, Miguel shouted out to you both. “Aww look at the two lovebirds!” His voice dripping with sarcasm to hid the slight anger and jealousy he felt.

“I’m not in the mood, Miguel…” You’re voice was horse and raspy, as you spoke, and your eyes were bloodshot and puffy when you lifted your head up to look at him. The sight made Miguel’s heart ache, but the way your body was so close to Logan’s made it fill with rage and envy a lot more.

“She’s having a bad day, can we save-“ Logan started but was swiftly cut off.

“And that’s my problem because?” He hissed, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong huh? Did he drop you on your back again? Or was it something stupid like missing up a spin?” He taunted with a head tilt, Logan glared at Miguel, his hand’s grip tightening on your shoulder, Peter just nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet and you, well you were trying not to burst into tears again. He made it sound a lot more simple then it felt like, it made you feel embarrassed for being so distraught about it. He had no way of knowing that’s actually the reason for your tears.

“Can you not be a dick for 5 minutes?” You ask with an exhausted dry laugh, the laugh was your body’s way of holding yourself back from beginning to sob again. Your hand goes up to wipe some smuggled mascara from under your eyes. “Everything has been so fucking shitty all day, I-I don’t need you to come her and kick me while I’m down, Okay?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and it only made Miguel feel worse.

You were right, he was acting like a major jerk right now. God what is wrong with him? Here you were in such a vulnerable place, your heart laying bare in front of him, and instead of making you feel better, instead of making your chest full with warmth and reassurance, he grabbed your still beating heart and began to feast on it like it was that night’s dinner.

God. What the fuck Miguel? What the fuck? What the fuck. Whatthefuck. Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck-

“Alright,” Coach Kavinsky came outside, crossing her arms as she spoke. “I’m just gonna cut practice short, it’s almost over anyways.” She said to Logan and you, before turning to you and speaking to you directly, “Go home, get some rest, and don’t stress yourself out too much over this, alright (Y/N?) Tomorrow is a new day, a fresh start, don’t let this one bad practice ruin your confidence in the program.” She finished, you just shook your head at her before she turned around and walked back into the building.

“Alright… let’s get you inside…” Logan said to you in a low comforting tone, getting off the sidewalk before helping you up, and began to walk you inside.

Miguel Let out a Heavy sigh, glancing to his side, running a hand through his slicked back dark hair, before attempting to speak, “Look. Princes-“ but he quickly shut his mouth when Logan looked over at him and sent him a dark glare, not stopping as he grabs your hand and drags you inside. If looks could kill, Miguel would be six feet under.

After a beat of silence, Peter cleared his throat before speaking, “well…that’s one way of trying to get her to notice you, nice going Miguel.” If Miguel didn’t already plan on releasing all his confused feelings and frustrations out on the ice before, he sure as hell was going to now. Miguel sent Peter a glare, mumbling some curses under his breath in Spanish , before he began to go walk into the arena, Peter stumbling to catch up with him.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch

[tswhiisftteedr]

Hair Prank! ☆ One Shot

☆Dorm Leader!Vil Schoenheit x Choatic!Pomfiore Student!Female!Reader:

After pulling a prank causing Vil’s appearance to change, you try to your best to run away from his now angered self. But isn’t hate and love two side of the same coin, at least passion wise…

Warnings: Making out, Graphic language, suggestive tones but nothing happens. Not proofread.

Note: This is based from this ask, also I’m sorry I didn’t know how to incorporate the clothing style into the fic, maybe I’ll rewrite it. Sorry again, but I hope you still like it! Mentions of Yuu but reader is not them.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

☆ More under the cut. ☆

It was your daily dance lesson after school with Vil as your instructor. Epel had skipped out on practice, making your strict instructor, even stricter than the usual due to his irritation. But his constant critique of your technique was getting on your nerves.

"You made a mistake again. We'll start from the beginning once more," Vil sighs as he walks over to the speaker. On his phone, he restarts the same song that you've been dancing to in your lessons.

Ever since being assigned to Pomefiore, your life had been but relaxing. Being the only official female student admitted this year, after the school board had decided to transition from an all-boys to a unisex school, you were sure to attract eyes, Vil’s included. In his mind he would’ve brought you by his side to unlock your potential, even if you’d have been assigned to another dorm. But goody him, as the dark mirror had chooses to put you in his care. But to you it was all a waste of time and energy, you already did skincare and took care of yourself, you truly needed him to interject. Well that was your opinion, but it was plain obvious that it wasn’t his.

Even when you had try to coax him into taking Yuu under his wing instead of yourself, bless her heart, he had shot down the idea right in front of her. Saying something along the line that she was too much of a potato to be able to shine the way he was sure he’ll make you do.

"Don’t even think about, don’t you dare try to leaving again," he turns to glare at you. You were so close to the exit... It's like he had eyes behind his head.

“Lisent Vil. hon’, darling.” You say to him with a faux kindness and sympathy “You’re really starting to piss me off.” You continue, but this time, with a tone of voice that actually carried your sentiments.

"Shut it!" Vil's face is full of disgust. He cannot stand how easily you dismiss his words as if they don't carry any weight at all.

"I don't care how hard it is or how much you despise dancing," he continues in a demanding voice, "You WILL become an ideal beauty or else..."

“Or what my ‘Queen’? Gonna make me dance on hot burning coal, maybe carve my face off and place it on Mannequin head so you can play dress up with it, or make me all old and wrinkly with one your potions as a punishment, yeah the third one seems more like your style. You pussy.” You say to him spitefully, following it with a snicker.

His eyes widen with anger as he steps closer to you, invading your personal space. "Do you have any idea what I'm capable of doing to you?"His tone is cold and threatening.

“Oh I don’t know, since you actually never do shit. You just talk and talk, you must really like the sound of your own voice, and not in the regular person type of way, no that’s not it, you like it and yourself in the narcissistic type a way, you probably get off on simply hearing the sound of your own voice or looking at your reflection.” You continue taunting him, with a snicker that is irritating the shit out of him.

Vil's anger boils over as he grabs your arm sharply and pulls you up against his body. "I warn you. Never, EVER insult my ego again. I'm done taking your attitude lightly. The next sentence you utter from your pathetic mouth had better be filled with an apology. Do you understand me, worm?"

As he says that you secretly take out a pouch full of powder out of your many pants pockets. ‘Cargo pants are the best’ you think to yourself. The powder was enchanted, it made the person it lands on, temporarily change hair colour, about 24 hours.

As he finishes, “I’m sorry Vil,” you tell him apologetically. But in the reality of things, gears wear turning in your mind. “I’m really sorry about this!” you shout at him, as you open the pouch and throw the contents of it on Vil.  The shock from the situation causes Vil to let you go, and you start booking it, running out of the room as fast as possible. “See ya later handsome!” You say teasingly, knowing he would be displeased with his current appearance.

Vil's eyes widen as his beautiful blonde locks turn a dark shade of purple. His face grows contorted in outrage as he screams, "Get back here!" without thinking of the fact you've probably already left.

Suddenly, his expression turns into one of disbelief and horror. Vil looks at himself in the mirror. His heart skips a beat as he takes in his new look. "... No," he says in a strained voice.

After leaving the dorm through the magic mirror, you head towards the Ramshackle to tell Yuu and Grim about what had transcended, and probably Epel too, that’s were he usually hides to skip out on Vil’s lessons.

Meanwhile, Vil is still looking at himself in the mirror with a shocked expression on his face. After what felt like hours, Vil finally begins to process what just happened. "I can't believe she did this to me."

Vil's mind races as his hands tremble slightly. He clenches his fists in anger as he thinks to himself, "That girl... that ungrateful, selfish little...!"

You were sat on a couch in the Ramshackle, retelling the events to Epel and Grim, Yuu wasn’t there, apparently she was with the Ignihyde dorm leader right now.

“And then he grabbed me, and I was like literally against him, body to body type of shit. He started going on about ‘Never’ insult his ego again and that the next words that came out of my mouth should be ones of apology.” I tell them, 

“So he at did you do next??” Epel asks, wondering if this story was headed where he anticipated it to go, after all he was the one who helped you craft the magic powder. 

“Well then I secretly pulled out the beautiful, hair color changing magic powder we crafted, I was all like ‘I’m sorry Vil’. After I opened the pouch the powder was in and threw it on him, with a ‘I’m sorry for this!’. The look of horror on his face was priceless.” You tell them with a victorious laugh.

Grim raises an eyebrow as he listens to your retelling of the event and lets out a sarcastic chuckle at your story. "You must've really struck a nerve." He turns to look at Epel and prompts him to respond to the story.

Epel nods eagerly. He looks excited as he waits for you to continue.

“After everything I ran away to come to you guys, but as I was leaving I could his screech in the distance lol”

Grim begins laughing heartily. "I bet you could hear him all the way from here, huh?"

In the distance, you could still hear Vil's shouts of anger. Grim and Epel continue to laugh at your hilarious prank.

But then you all simultaneously realized that it was impossible to hear his voice, since the magic mirror connecting each dorm to campus didn’t project noise for within the dorm. This meaning only one thing, Vil was here on campus and he was headings towards you…

The laughter quickly dies down as the three of you come to terms with the fact that Vil had just followed you here. Grim gets up to brace himself for a confrontation. "Well, it seems our little game has finally caught up to us," he says in a resigned tone.

A little bit earlier,

Vil was standing in front of a mirror, trying his best to hide his new appearance in a hood, in order not to attract too much attention(too bad the angered noise he was making did the opposite affect). He thinks back to the incident, a look of rage and embarrassment on his face. "That girl thinks that she can one-up me, does she?"

His face curls in anger, "She's going to pay for humiliating me!” he shouts to himself. Vil turns away from the mirror and quickly leaves the room to find you. He then heads towards the lounge of the dorm to pass through the mirror chamber and arrives campus, he guessed you probably wouldn’t have stayed on dorm site with the stunt you just pulled.

Now back to the present.

Vil is walking through campus, his mind full of thoughts ranging from fury and rage to confusion and disbelief. As he walks through the crowds, he tries his best to maintain a neutral or at least stern expression in order to not draw attention to himself.

Vil finally reaches the Ramshackle and he takes off his hood, deciding to face you and whoever was in there without hiding himself. Still, he is visibly pissed as he glares at the thought you.

You hear knocking. And you shush your to friends up, you’re now as quite as mouses.

There is a moment of silence as you hear Vil knock again on the door. His voice can be faintly heard, "Open the damn door, girl! I know you're in there!" The knocking then become more aggressive as he continues, "Come out here this instant!"

It felt like he was going to soon break the door down, so while he continue his knocking you sneakily left the ramshackle through a window at the back.

Vil grows even louder upon realizing that you aren't responding to his calls and knocks. He starts banging on the door in a fit of rage. "I know you’re in there! Come on out. Now!"

He decides that he had enough of the wait, and breaks the door down with magic not damage his manicure, he was still an actor and beauty influencer afterall.

But you was obliviously gone by then, Vil steps into the ramshackle, seeing his two classmates sitting before him. His eyes narrow as he searches the room for any signs of you. He looks at Grim and Epel with disdain and contempt in his eyes. "Where is she?" His voice is demanding.

“We don’t know.” They tell him at the same time.

Vil's eyes flicker with annoyance as the two of them blandly lie to him. "She can't have simply vanished off the face of the world." His tone is angry and condescending. He knows what they are doing and he knows that you are nearby, or at least that was what he thought in the moment. He walks right up to the two of them, his presence imposing itself as he gets closer.

But then Vil decided that it was a waste of time to talk to them, they were only going to back you up afterall, probably give him wrong information. So he decides to search around for you instead. As he snoops around, he sees that the back window was open, then he realized how that’s the way you made your escape.

By then you was already far away, in the mirror chamber, making your way to Savanaclaw to hideout.

As Vil paces around the ramshackle to collect his thoughts on where you could’ve gone and what to do now. He over hears Epel and Grim whispering to each other.

“So you think she made it there already?” Epel asks grim, “Yeah she probably at Savanaclaw by now.” Grim answers him.

What had happened was that, when Vil was still knocking you had whispered to them about your plan to go and hideout at the warmed temperature dorm, before you had made your escape.

Vil's eyes narrow as he watches Grim and Epel converse with each other. He has a strong suspicion of what they are talking about based on their demeanor. "She thinks she's funny. And these two idiots are helping her." Vil mumbles to himself.

He walks over to the window once more and looks outside to see if you is anywhere in sight. When he sees the empty space, his rage only grows in intensity. His face contorts into a bitter scowl as he clenchs his hands into fists.

By now you had a pack of candy in hand, trying to bribe Ruggie into letting you stay in his dorm for cover.

Vil walks back over to Grim and Epel after not being able to spot you anywhere.

He glares at both of them while trying his best to restrain his temper. "So, you decided to help her with her little prank? What a surprise you two were so happy to assist an ungrateful little girl in humiliating me."

Vil glares at the two of them one more time as he storms out of the ramshackle.

Meanwhile, you're still bribing Ruggie with candy. "Let me hide in your dorm, and I'll give you this candy." Your words are accompanied by an innocent smile.

By the time he had arrived to Savanaclaw, you were already well hidden in Ruggie’s room, more specifically, under his bed.

Vil searches all over the Savanaclaw dorm building, but he can't find any trace of you. "Where is she hiding? I KNOW she's around here somewhere!" Vil thinks, as his anger grows. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the dorm with gritted teeth.

Vil's eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenchs tightly as he sees Savanaclaw dorm leader, Leona Kingscholar lying down on a nice sofa, without a care in the world. He glares as his eyes narrow. "Have you seen a student named F/n L/n around here by any chance?"

“Why? Did your favourite doll go missing?” The lazy lion teases with his eyes still closed.

Vil rolls his eyes. His patience is worn thin by this point. The mere mention of that stupid nickname makes his blood boil. "This is no game Kingscholar. Have you seen her or not?!"

“Hm? I see, well I can tell you that i saw her talking to Ruggie about staying in his dorm about 15 minutes ago, though I don’t know if he actually accepted or not.” He tells him nonchalantly not wanting the angry dorm leader to pester him even more, rolls around ready to back to his nap.

Vil sighs with frustration. He knows he can't go into Ruggie's room to look without possibly getting into trouble. "Damn it all." Vil thinks. His tone is sarcastic and irritated as he responds. "Oh really? You think he let her in?"

“Don’t know, don’t care, maybe he did, but she had some candy on her person, and that guy sure loves free food.” Leona finishes, before falling back asleep.

‘Of course she would offer him candy. Something she’s not even supposed to have if she was properly following the meal plan I made for her! She really is an absolute menace.’ Vil thinks with a scoff, his tone dripping with cynicism.

Vils asks around for Ruggie’s dorm number as Leona already headed back to sleep before he could ask anymore questions.

As he arrives at the room Vil knocks on the door a bit sharply, making it clear that he is not happy to be outside of Ruggie's dorm in the first place.

It seems he's already lost a ton of patience and is becoming more agitated with each passing moment. His face is twisted into a scowl as he waits for someone to answer.

“Yes?” Ruggie asks as he slightly opens the door.

Vil's eyes narrow even more, it's not a good sign. His tone is tight and impatient as he responds. “I'm looking for someone. They were supposed to be here. Have you seen anyone by the name of f/n l/n?"

“Maybe, what’s in it for me if if tell you?” He says to him with his signature snicker.

Vil scoffs in annoyance, this situation was growing even more aggravating for him. He was used to being in the upper hand, being the one to call the shots. Now he's reduced to begging some low-life delinquent for information about someone that should be under his jurisdiction. Vil is NOT pleased. "Oh come on, will you stop with your nonsense already? This is serious business." He tries to coax him but Ruggie doesn’t budge.

Vil's anger grows stronger but he refrains himself from lashing out. ‘This insolent bastard. As if the information is wordly classified. What a selfish prick.’ Vil thinks. "Fine. What do you want?" His tone is tense, he's gritting his teeth as he asks him.

“Well, you got something tasty for me?” Ruggie inquires, after candy is great and all but it doesn’t have a long lasting effect for soothing hunger. So he would be opposed to selling you out if he got something better than the sweets you gave him, in exchange.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He's not the type to give in to someone else's childish demands. But he must admit that these demands are quite reasonable for someone like Ruggie. ‘Of course he wants sweets.’ Vil thinks. ‘I'll play his stupid game.’ "I suppose I could spare a small piece of candy or two. Would that be enough to get a straight answer from you?" He offers the hyena beastmen.

“One or two pieces? You got to better than that, afterall I got a full bag of them for my silence. Buying me dinner is bare minimum for what you’re asking.” Ruggie shoot down his proposal,

Vil's eyes narrow as he frowns. He can't believe this stupid bastard has the nerve to ask him for this much. But he's running out of options. Reluctantly, he nods his head in defeat. "Dinner. Alright, whatever you want. Just give me an answer already."

“Okay then!” He snickers once more. “You can look around my room for her, if you want, but that’s it.” He tells Vil.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He can't believe he has to stoop this low. He glances at Ruggie with disdain as he responds. "That is absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?"

“I don’t know what your talking about~” The hyena says, then heads out.

Vil's eyes twitch in annoyance as he searches the room for the slightest hint of your presence here. However, the room is in its usual state of messiness, making it impossible for a casual observer to find anything of value. Vil seems more agitated than before as he continues to look for you. He even opens the closet to look for you in there. He was about to head out until you accidentally made a noise.

Vil pauses mid search, hearing the noise he heard. He turns his head in your direction, instantly knowing that the little sound he heard was due to you. He glares at the location from where the sound came from. "I know you're under that bed little girl," he says, his tone sarcastic as he addresses you, his scowl only growing in intensity.

But you decide to play with him more, and stay quiet.

Vil steps forward, getting closer to the bed. He stands up and leans over it, looking under it. The scowl on his face is so intense, his expression is almost terrifying. He spots your body hiding under the bed and glaces down at you. "I know you're in there, so you can come out now. Or do you prefer me making that decision for you?" He asks and his tone is angry and condescending.

But even after being caugh, you don’t say anything or more for about 3 minutes, so Vil drags you out from under the bed by the ankles. An expression of satisfaction covers his face. He was getting tired of this game. Vil's eyes glare at you, his expression a mix of irritation and annoyance. The moment he has you in his grasp is when he finally speaks. "Now listen, I've had enough of this. You're coming with me."

“Whatever, you’re no fun” tell him, still messing with his temper.

"You think this is supposed to be fun? This was never meant to be entertaining. I just want to get the job done." Vil glares at you, his tone becoming even more agitated. "Now stop your pathetic whining and get moving."

As you were heading back to Pomefiore, you had decided to pull another stunt, by ‘pulling’ hood down. His new hair colour in plain view for all students to see. That pissed him off so he drag you to his room to scream your ear off…

Vil was already getting impatient, and your actions only made him even more irritated. The moment he gets you into his dorm, he locks the door behind you and starts glaring at you once again. His tone is stern and cold as he speaks to you. "Just what did you think you were doing? You think you're clever, but you're nothing but a nuisance."

“Chill out, it was just a joke.” You tell him, not taking him seriously at all.

Vil's eyes flicker in a mixture of frustration and rage as you talk back to him. He stares down at you, his eyes narrowing to narrow slits. He can't possibly find any aspect of you or your actions to be amusing at all, instead he feels only a deep loathing and hatred. His tone is harsh as he responds. "Oh you think this is some sort of joke? That you can just get away with messing with me like this"

“Yeah, pretty much.” You say nonchalantly.

Vil's fist tightens as he glares at you, a vein on his forehead is visibly twitching. His eyes are so intense that they seem like they can burn right through you. His tone is filled with cold and hatred, he's getting angrier by the second. His lips curl up in disgust as he responds. "Listen to me. You think you have been annoying enough, but trust me. I can make you suffer worse in a million ways. So I suggest you stop being such an irritating little girl and start behaving properly."

“God, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” You admit out of nowhere, looking up at him with mischief.

Vil stares down at you with sheer disgust and disbelief. He can't believe that you would actually tell him something so ridiculous, let alone at a time like this. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightly clenches. "Are you out of your mind? Just who do you think you're talking to?" his tone is harsh and condescending, his scowl is even more intense now.

“Duh, I’m taking to the hottest and sexiest man in all of Pomefiore.” You keep pushing.

Vil seems stunned by your ridiculous compliment, his eyes flicker with rage once again and he snarls at you. "Do you think you are actually seducing me? There is not a single thing about you that I find attractive or appealing. So if you have nothing of value to say, I suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

“Please do so, I’d love to how this scenario could escalate into something more spicy~” You tell him.

Vil's eyes narrow as he raises an eyebrow. He can't believe how bold you have become now that you were in his room, behind locked doors. He glares at you in indignation, unable to hide his disdain for your actions. "That's it. I had enough. You want spicy? Than spicy it shall become"

Perhaps it was the want to put you in your place, perhaps it was it was the fact that Vil had been crushing on you for quite a while but didn’t confess because your antics, or perhaps it was just a spurt of the moment type of thing that cause Vil do to do what he did.

In one swift motion, Vil grabs you and pins you against the wall.

“Yeah, I like we’re this is going” You say not letting up the teasing.

Vil stares down at you with a fiery-glow in his eyes. His voice becomes smooth as his tone grows more intimate. One of his hands moves down your body to grab you by the waist, holding you close to him. "You really do know how to push my buttons, you little pest."

“It’s one my best traits”

Vil lets his thoughts go wild and allows himself to surrender to the rush of emotions that are overwhelming him right now. His facial expressions soften as his grip on you becomes a little bit looser, he's more relaxed now. His tone is almost as silky as his skin."Perhaps, that is one of your best traits. Perhaps, you are more than just some troublemaking little thing."

“So are y’a going to kiss me or just stare at my dazzling face.” You say with a wink.

Vil pauses for a moment. His eyes are darkening and his lips curl up in a slight smirk. He leans down until he can feel your breath on his skin. His voice is a husky whisper. "Oh, I'm definitely about to kiss you alright. But not because you requested it, but because I wanted to."

Vil's lips press themselves against yours with a lot of force, almost as if he can't wait to get a taste of you, and of course the emotions of anger you caused the man. His tongue quickly moves into your mouth and his hands wrap themselves around you in tight grips. His body is plastered against you, and every movement he makes is smooth like butter. His kisses are passionate and full of aggression, but somehow still very tender. He moans, his sounds being low and husky.

Vil pulls away, his breathing is heavy and he looks you deep in the eyes. The expression on his face is calm and tranquil now, his lips curling into a light smile."You know, you're not so bad after all. Your ability to get me so riled really is quite fascinating."

“Thanks! So are you still mad me my queen?” You inquire.

Vil laughs softly, his voice is almost a purr. A playful grin forms on his lips as he responds. "Mad? No, I don't think that's correct anymore. Irritated? Yes, very much so. After what you did earlier, it'll take a lot more than this to compensate for that."

“I guess I’ll get punished tomorrow, huh. But it doesn’t seem so bad of a though anymore.” You say to him all sweetly.

Vil smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He's starting to get used to your antics and is starting to respond with sarcasm. “Oh, you bet I'll have lots of fun with you tomorrow. I think I've found the right kind of punishment for you. And I'll make sure that I'm really thorough."

“Oh yes, I wonder what the big bad evil queen will do me as for punishment.” You say semi-seductively, it’s more to mess with him then anything else.

“Well starting with extra dance practice to make up for today sounds like a plan.” He states, shooting down any type of sensuality that might been a couple seconds prior.

“Oh come on!” You complained.

Thanks @bananaseq for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are Open)

[sexysapphicshopowner]

🤎 Context/AU (Alternate Universe): Big news for the dreamgirls!! Aftermath of 'Twenty Foreplay'

🤎 soft!wife!dreamgirl!sevika x wife!dreamgirl!reader

🤎 CW/TW: abuse, violence, death, murder, child sexual abuse, adult language, pregnancy, lesbians, pet names, fluff, angst, abortion attempt, sevika has a tragic backstory, eating disorder, drug use, mentions of alcoholism, sorry if I forgot any, not proofread/edited so excuse any mistakes

🤎 A/N: It's late, I know, life happens. I actually cut it short bc it was starting to get a lot heavier than I wanted and the flow was starting to get a bit sloppy. So have this.

🤎 Notes: Um, I cried while writing most of the flashback parts. I love the dreamgirls.

🤎 Word count: 12.4k

Aromatic wisps of rosemary and sage wafted through the bathroom, the scents intermingling with that of the light and warm, semi-bubbly milk bath your wife had drawn for you when she’d gotten home for the day. You let out a soft sigh, your head barely hanging over the edge as you sunk further into the calming water, trying to let as much stress seep out of you as possible. 

Familiar and comforting hands found your shoulders, a kiss being planted on your temple as she spoke, voice barely a rumble over the neo-soul that was playing from the speaker on the sink counter, “How are you feeling, dream girl?” 

“Better now that you’re in here,” you hummed as you looked up to her, pressing a kiss to her chin as she massaged your shoulders. 

Her laugh was quiet as she ducked lower to press an upside-down kiss to your lips before kissing up the bridge of your nose. The playful little pecks turned reverent as her lips landed back at your forehead, peppering across the area as her hands moved. 

Fingers splayed out over your neck and partially your collar as she pressed her thumbs behind your ears, rubbing in circles. You all but melted in her hands, letting your eyes slip closed once more as you enjoyed her touch and kiss. 

“Have you started yet? I dropped last night.” 

You shook your head, letting out a little sigh, “Not yet, though I wish it would hurry up. These body aches are killing me and if I keep gagging, I’m gonna throw up and that’s gonna make me cry.” 

She cooed, thumbs now tracing down, applying a slight pressure as she dragged them along the line of your jaw, “My poor little mama...” 

“Why poor me? You’re the one that’s actually on. I should’ve been the one drawing a bath for you when you got home.” 

“Sure, but if you never drop then, you know what that means,” she hinted. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, humming, “True... we’ll see. I’ll let you know what happens. We both know my cycle is still very off and weird.”    “Right, right. Now about this gag-” 

“No.” 

“You didn’t even let me finish,” she pouted. 

“I don’t have to. You were about to ask if it’s too bad for me to suck a lil’ dick. You’re so sick and twisted and completely un-slick, little nasty,” you shook your head, pushing her face playfully. 

“Well, you’ve got me there. It was worth a try in my book,” she shrugged. 

“Uh-huh. You disgust me.” 

“Do I? Do I really,” she asked playfully, as you looked up, leaning your head back just a little further. 

You beckoned her closer as you leaned your head back a little further, “Kiss, kiss.” 

She happily obliges, leaning down to meet your lips as you stretch up just the tiniest bit. The kiss isn’t long, but it was enough to sate you until you could kiss her properly later. She mumbles against your lips as she pulls away, “I’m so in love with you and everything about you...” 

Your breath caught as you looked up at her, finding that same indescribable flame that always burned within her silvery eyes. Somehow the color still hadn’t dulled against the harsh reality of life as a Zaunite. Even more, that loving look in them only seemed to be larger every time you caught her eye. 

You were swooning. 

It wasn’t until her lips pressed to your forehead that you were pulled out of your reverie, blinking up at her as you turned around in the tub to look up at her properly as you leaned onto your arms, folding them over the edge of the bathtub, “I love you more.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded, beckoning her closer with the crook of a finger, “Uh-huh. C'mere. I’ll show you how much I love you.” 

She all but fell back into your lips, sighing into your kiss as it consumed her, your nails raking over her scalp as your fingers slid into her hair, thumbs tracing her jaw just in front of her ears. 

In a very uncharacteristic move, she pulled from the embrace before you could even deepen it, huffing, “You can’t kiss me like that, dreamy...” 

“Why not?” 

She shook her head to clear it, wiping her face, “Because then I’m gonna wanna get into the tub with you, then I’m gonna fuck you and I’m supposed to be focused on doing other things right now.” 

“Such as?” 

She just chuckled in response before planting a much more chaste kiss to your lips, following it with another to the tip of your nose, the final one touching your forehead as she stood, “What fun would it be if I just told you, mama? I’ll be back in a sec with some sparkling white grape. Just in case I did knock you up, which... not to toot my own dick, but I’m pretty certain I did.” 

Your laugh was more of a splutter as you choked on your spit and air at the same time, “For Janna’s sake, Sevi, it’s ‘toot my own horn’. I can’t stand your nasty ass sometimes.” 

“Then it’s a wonderful thing you’re in the tub right now, isn’t it?” 

“Girl- just hurry up, I want cuddles when I get out of here.” 

She blew you a final kiss from the doorway before disappearing into the rest of the house to do whatever it was she was hiding from you. As promised, she’d come back with the sparkling juice, to which you accepted gratefully with a little kiss before sinking back into your bath, lazily holding the champagne flute over the side of the tub as you sipped on the drink idly.

Sevika doesn’t like men. 

All the men out there who’ve ever wanted to fuck her can thank her father for the aversion. 

You see, when your childhood consists of being pimped out to strange men to pay your alcoholic father’s gambling debts, constantly getting into street fights, and then getting your ass handed to you once you get home- you don’t have much time to really discover yourself. 

Maybe in a different universe- one where Sevika wasn’t born in Zaun... where her father wasn’t abusive... where she wasn’t sex trafficked by the very man that was meant to protect her... she might’ve been attracted to men. 

But this wasn’t that universe. 

Her fear of relationships with men quickly grew into an outright disgust of them. 

And then it got worse. 

For Sevika, it started with the vomiting. 

For probably all the ladies living up Topside, the first sign would’ve been a missed period. Thanks to life in the Lanes, however, Sevika was pretty used to her period not coming at all sometimes. It never came with a baby before though. 

She’d been dancing the line of unknown pregnancy scares since she was 11. Now she was 21, still under the thumb of her father, and even worse- pregnant.

It wasn’t long before you were wrapped in a fluffy robe, feet slid into your house slippers as Sev guided you into the kitchen with her hands over your eyes under the guise of ‘driving you’ to her secret little surprise. 

You stumbled a bit and she took a little pause, “You okay?” 

“I smell food.” 

Her chuckle was hearty and you could almost hear the head shake that accompanied her words, “I’m sure you do. Almost there, dream girl.” 

Her hands were removed from your eyes without warning and allowed your eyes to adjust as she leaned her face over your shoulder, hands coming down to their usual home base of your waist as you took in the ambient, candlelit dinner she’d put together for you guys, “Sev...” 

She shook her head before you could continue, “Yes, I’m on my period and that’s your favorite time to spoil me, but I wanted to treat my wife.” 

You poked your lip out as you turned your head to look at her, “Sev...” 

She giggled, peppering the side of your face with kisses, “Don’t cry, mama... it’s just dinner. I can’t even cook like you.” 

You sniffled, fanning your eyes, “Shut it, my emotions are just everywhere right now. It’s not about your cooking skills, even though we both know I’ve taught you well... It’s about the gesture, and you know it.” 

She nodded, lips now at your shoulder, “I know... hope you love it.” 

“Of course, I love it... I love you...” you mumbled, holding a hand against her cheek. 

“Alright, alright, sit and eat,” she prompted, pulling your chair out with her foot. Before you could protest as she sat you down, she pressed several kisses to your face, “And I love you too. Never forget it.” 

You had a stupid smile on your face throughout the entirety of dinner.

Emetophobia. 

The fear of vomiting or seeing others being sick. 

Sevika had experienced her father’s violent reactions to her throwing up before. 

The first time was when she was 6. 

It was a particularly bad winter in Zaun. The smog was thicker, the cold seemed to seep into the very core of the Lanes. 

She’d been battling the sniffles and a nasty fever for days, all the while still being forced to ‘put herself to use’ by her father. 

Then it got worse. 

Then she began to throw up. 

At first, she hid it well. She’d swallow it down when she couldn’t get out of his sight. When she could, she’d always go out to an alley, ducking and weaving through bodies of what the little girl only hoped was just drunkards and junkies who’d passed out on a bender rather than what a six-year-old Sevika knew in her heart were either already dead or close to it. 

Up until this point, the extent of physical abuse coming directly from her father was a slap across the face or being picked up by the front of her shirt and shaken around. 

Then she brought him breakfast and didn’t make it out of his room fast enough to go puke out back. 

That was the catalyst for the abuses that would be-fall her for the next few decades of her life. 

Throw up tastes disgusting. 

It tastes even worse going back down after being licked up off your father’s grimy boots. 

Even worse, the feeling of wanting to re-release those fluids again when you were forced to lick those same boots clean until they were no longer grimy. 

Sevika trained herself to hold her throw up in after that.

Your music from the bathroom was moved to one of the counters in the kitchen, incense burning in the holder as you and Sevika cuddled up into each other, you perched up on her lap with the two of you picking from the same plate in between soft kisses and intimate looks. 

It was just you and your wife, enjoying the presence and company of one another in the midst of the meal she’d prepared. 

You leaned back against her chest, letting out a happy sigh, “You know... I’m so proud of you for this.” 

“Yeah,” she asked softly. The softness of her voice, the genuine question in that one word was so cute. You turned in her lap, sitting sideways atop her, cupping her cheek in a hand as you smiled warmly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. 

You kept your voice at the same level of hers as you responded, “Of course, I’m proud, baby. You pan fried the rice properly and everything. I’m so very proud to see you picking up cooking a little more.” 

Your heart broke a little at the tears that glossed over her silver orbs as she looked up at you, “Really? You mean it?” 

“Yes, baby, I mean it. What’s wrong,” you cooed, bringing your other hand to her cheek to stroke both of them with your thumbs, “Talk to me, baby.” 

She shrugged, looking away, “I dunno... I just... I feel like I’ve been struggling to eat lately. Like I’ve been having to force myself to eat so I just... I wasn’t sure if I was in the right headspace to be cooking tonight, but I wanted to treat you, you know?” 

“Sev...” you began. 

“Don’t... it’s okay, doll. I’ll-” 

“Sevika,” you stopped her, keeping her face turned to yours as you moved again, this time to straddle her, “Will you look at me? Please?” 

She shook her head in your gentle grip, tears beginning to well, threatening to spill over as she fought hard to blink them back, “I can’t...” 

“And why not?” 

“I don’t want to see you disappointed in me...” she whispered, voice barely the ghost of a whisper. It was the smallest you’d heard her voice in a while. The last time was... you softened, further, bringing your voice to a warmer tone. 

“I’m not disappointed in you, baby. And I never could be, especially not for something like that. I’m actually proud of you. Very proud that instead of shutting down, you’re talking about it. I know how hard that is for you, especially when it comes to your eating. So with that being said, will you please look at me?” 

Watery eyes met yours as she nibbled the inside of her cheek, whispering, “Promise?” 

“Of course, baby. I promise, I’m not disappointed.” 

She took a shuddery, breath, closing her eyes as she leaned her forehead against your chest, “I love you...” 

You pressed a kiss into her hair, rubbing her back, “I love you too, baby. You wanna try and eat a little something more for me? Or do you just wanna talk? What did you eat today?” 

“Um.... I had a few bites of the lunch you made me, but then I.... let Ran eat the rest... I’m sorry...” 

“Baby, you don’t have to keep apologizing. Can you at least drink some water and eat a little something? Just a couple of bites?” She whined and you let out a little sigh, running your fingers through her hair, “Have you smoked yet?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Didn’t help?” 

“No.” 

“Okay... You’ll try again later?” 

“Sure.” 

“If you can’t that’s fine, but you gotta promise me you’ll try and eat well tomorrow, okay?” 

“I promise...” 

A plaintive silence fell over the two of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just... somber. You didn’t comment when she began to pick a few bites off the plate again, simply smiling that she was getting some form of food in her, even if it wasn’t a lot. 

At some point, Sevika had stopped eating, hands gripping at your waist, hips and thighs as she pressed kisses along the line of your neck and shoulder. Her hands strayed to your stomach as she mumbled, “Hey, mama?” 

“Yes, my love?” 

She chuckled as you stuffed your face with food, wiping some from your cheek, “What if I really did knock you up in one try?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I mean, how many times did you nut in me? And we were both ovulating around that time too. It was like perfectly timed for us to actually end up with a baby.” 

She didn’t say anything else for a few moments, and you went right back to eating before she rested her chin on your shoulder, tracing your side with her mechanic hand, “You make me want a family...” 

“Yeah?” 

She nodded, “Yeah... even with life down here... the work that I do... you make me wanna have something to leave behind... a little family that’s like... a legacy of our love. Like, yes, I wanna be a mother and give our kids the things that I never had, but I also want people to see our kids and know that those are our kids. Like... they know that our kids have two loving moms that are actively in love.” 

You let out a little giggle, turning to the side in her lap to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you held her other one, stroking your thumb over her cheekbone, “You’re so cute... I love you, and I would love to have your babies, and I know what you’re trying to say, I promise.” 

She relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief as she leaned into your hand on her face, “Thank Janna, I thought I was just rambling stupidly.” 

You shook your head, pressing more kisses to her face and lips, “No, I understood you perfectly.” 

“Have I told you how much I love you today?”

You giggled, nodding, “Yeah, a little bit. You always remind me that I’m loved... it’s why I married you.” 

“Really?”

“Of course. Baby, you told me you loved me within our first four dates. It was so cute because you were still learning to navigate love and healthy relationships... we both were, and still are, but here I had the big, scary lady of Zaun and she was looking at me like a puppy and telling me that she thought she was falling in love with me. I think that was the moment when I truly felt like I had found my person in you. And well... the rest is really history. By the time you asked me to marry you, I couldn’t say anything but yes.” 

She had idly reached for her wedding band that she always wore on a chain around her neck, fiddling with it as she looked up at you in her lap, “You never once like... entertained saying no? Or maybe waiting a little longer?” 

“Never. I knew when I met you that I had to snatch you up and it was just my luck that you seemed to have the same thought process when it came to me. I love you. And that’s not changing. So yes, I mean it when I say I wanna have your children, or that I love you more than anything, or that I’d do anything you asked of me because you’re... you’re everything to me, Sev... and I know that when it comes to us talking about kids it’s hard for you... but you’ve given me so much and I wanna give you the same thing in return. If given the chance, I wouldn’t change a thing about our relationship... well...” 

Her eyes snapped up to you from her ring as worry laced through her features, “Well?” 

You snickered, placing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose, “If I could go back, I would make sure I’d asked you to marry me before you could ask me.” 

“You’re so,” she rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile as you shut her up with another little kiss. She pulled you further into her lap with a happy little sigh, “I love you, dream girl.” 

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as you wrapped an arm around her, your other hand coming up to her chest, fingernail tracing along her collarbone, “I love you too.” 

“Done eating?” 

You nodded, patting your stomach, “May or may not be a baby-baby in here, but there’s definitely a food baby in here.” 

The way she perked up almost like a little kid was too cute as she asked, “I did good?” 

The sated and full sigh you let out was all the answer she really needed, but you furthered it as you spoke, “Fuck yes...”

She rubbed your back with one hand, her other one grabbing hold of your hand to kiss each of your fingertips, “You’re so cute. It wasn’t even all that, mama.” 

“Uh-huh, it was gourmet. My compliments to the chef.” 

She raised a brow, voice full of ulterior motives and that all-too-familiar lilt as she muttered, “If you weren’t clearly about to fall asleep, I would ask for some better compliments, you know.” 

You quirked a brow sleepily, looking up at her through low and hooded eyes, “Huh?” 

“Alright, c’mon. To bed with you,” she prodded, adjusting her hold on you to pick you up with your legs wrapped around her waist. 

You instinctively looped your arms around her neck, pressing a few kisses to it as you hummed, “I love you.” 

“So I’ve noticed. I love you too.” 

“I love you.” 

She chuckled, “I love you too, baby.” 

“I love you.” 

She used her foot to push open the door to your shared bedroom, nodding as she used her foot to close the door once more, “Uh-huh, I love you too, dreamy. What’s up?” 

You shrugged as she sat down on the edge of the bed with you in her lap again, “Just feel like I haven’t said it enough today, you were at work all day, baby. Gotta reach our quota.” 

“We have a quota?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded against her shoulder, eyes closed as you planted lazy kisses against whatever skin was closest to you. 

Her breath hitched in her throat and she assumed a firmer grip on your hip as she hummed, “And what exactly would that number be?” 

“We say ‘I love you’ at least 76 times a day. And we kiss at least 280 times.” 

She chuckled, hand stroking along your hip and thigh as she nodded, “And where did you get these numbers from? Your ass?” 

“I’ve always counted.” 

That shut her up before she asked her next question a few moments later, “Are these exact numbers?” 

“An average. I did say ‘at least’.” 

“Huh.... you’re gay.” 

“Okay, but you married me so what does that say about you?” 

“That I did.” She turned to press a kiss to your forehead, just below your hairline before resting her head against yours, “I love you, dream girl.” 

You melted in her arms, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as you tightened your hold around her waist, “I love you...” 

“I love you,” she called again with a soft lilt in her tone as her thumb traced circles at the side of your hip. 

A heavy blush was creeping up from your chest, your skin growing warm as you let out a shaky breath, “I love you...” 

“You okay?” 

“Uh-huh...” 

“Words, mama.” You huffed and she shook her head, “No, ma’am. Talk to me. You goin’ to sleep on me?” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

You shook your head against her, “Mh-mh.”

She just chuckled, rubbing your back with one hand as she cradled the back of your head with the other, pressing kisses into your hair, “Whatever you say, mama.”

Sevika’s pregnancy scares were probably a lot more than she realized, but with little actual knowledge of her body, and the compounding factor of probably the world’s most irregular cycle, she spent the majority of her tween, teen, and young adult years none the wiser to any of the times where her body was seemingly contemplating the creation of a child. 

Until it started. 

At first, it was just a random nausea spell here and there. 

Then the nausea grew constant, the smallest smells setting her off with this horrible gagging. 

And then she threw up. 

All she could think of was what she was supposed to do when her father found out. No, no... he couldn’t find out. 

Flashbacks of that day when she was 6 have been haunting her since the first day of nausea. The intensity all but doubled when she woke up running for the toilet. 

Terrified didn’t even begin to cover the amalgamation of emotions Sevika was feeling when she realized what was going on with her. 

She thrust herself into ‘working’. Unsure of how far along she was and unable to actually find out, she decided to swallow down her daily morning sickness whenever it cropped up if she could, and when she couldn’t, she was straight to the nearest toilet. 

That didn’t stop her father from finding out. 

Sevika was sat on the bathroom floor, groaning under her breath after being unable to force herself to swallow her vomit back down. She was too weak and out of it to scramble and get herself together. 

If it wasn’t bad enough that she’d thrown up- didn't even get the chance to flush the toilet yet- her lack of reaction to his presence only further incensed the already drunk and irate man that called himself her father. 

It was a shitshow. 

Sevika was hemmed up by the collar of her shirt, his fist shaking as he barked in her face, questioning if this was why she’d been ‘underperforming’ lately. Too stunned to speak and reeling from the sudden yanking up from the floor, she sputtered, dizzy with a pounding headache as she tried to form a response. 

The more she floundered to actually engage with him, the more angry and downright belligerent he became. 

As always, he didn’t see his daughter, shaking under his grip of her collar.

No, he saw the extra mouth he’d been having to feed.

He saw the reason his wife was dead. 

He saw red. 

By the time Sevika found her words to even begin attempting to answer his barrage of questions and demands, his fist was already connecting with her face, his grip on her shirt the only thing saving her from ending up sprawled on the bathroom floor. 

It was going to be a beating for the books.

You didn’t even realize it when she’d laid you down in the bed on the pillows, tucking you in, until she was sliding into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you from behind with a kiss to the back of your shoulder, “Hm?”

She shook her head, reaching a hand into your robe to hold one of your breasts as another kiss was planted to the side of your neck, “Go to sleep, mama. I just had to go get out of my work clothes.”  

You let out a little groan, turning in her arms to nestle into her, your face tucked under her chin as you mumbled, “Hmmm... g’night.... love you...”  

With a little chuckle she pressed kisses into your hair, rubbing your lower back as she whispered against you, “Good night, my love. Sleep well.”  

You didn’t sleep very well at all.  

Along with the aches and random pains in weird places in your body- a tugging in your lower abdomen that also had a random stabbing along with it, back pain, an almost constant headache, and just a general discomfort and ache in your body- you also had this constant metal taste that was like having a mouthful of rusty change in your mouth at all times.

You were constantly waking up throughout the night from the discomfort, the violent urge to brush your teeth to purge your mouth of the vile metallic tang plaguing you. This, compounded with your incessant gagging, had you growing nauseous with the mere thought of your toothbrush starting to make you want to dry-heave.

You were presently standing over the sink, tears in your eyes as you tried to prepare yourself to gargle some mouthwash after having thrown up for about the fifth time since you woke up in the middle of the night.

Sevika, ever the stony sleeper, had no idea until she rolled over, finding your cold spot in the bed next to her. She groaned, calling out in a sleep-filled voice, “Baby, what’re you doin’? Come back so we can cuddle...”

You huffed, gripping onto the counter of the bathroom sink, fighting the urge to dry-heave again, “I’ll be back in a second....”

You could hear her trudging footsteps coming closer to the bathroom until she was coming up behind you, rubbing your back and pulling hair out of your face, concern and sleep both written on her features, “What’s wrong, baby?”  

“I just.... I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” you shook your head, pushing her hand away before grabbing the capful of mouthwash.  

“You can’t lie to me, dream girl. You’re crying, you’re pale... you look like shit and you’re supposed to be asleep right now. Talk to me.”  

“I’m in pain, gagging now has nausea with it, I just threw up, so now I gotta wash that out of my mouth, but that’s still not going to get rid of this fucking taste in my mouth and I just-”  

“Hey,” she moved to stand right in front of you, hands on your arms as she rubbed them to try and calm you back down, “Avalanche, you’re spiraling, dreamy. Take a deep breath with me and we’ll go sit down and talk, okay?”  

You nodded as you looked up at her, taking a shaky but somewhat deep breath along with her as she nodded along, continuing to rub your arms with her thumbs tracing circles.  

You let out a hiccup when you went to exhale and the second the tears started to brew again, she shook her head, “No, no, eyes on me... You’re safe... you’re okay, I promise. I’m here. You are okay, you’re doing so well, my love. Let’s try again, okay? Deep breaths.”  

It took a few more tries before you finally relaxed in her hold, wrapping your arms around her. She brought one hand up to play in your hair, the pads of her fingers rubbing your scalp as her claws on her mech hand trailed lightly up and down your back.  

She ended up taking you to the kitchen, sitting you down as she made you a glass of water with two and a half ice cubes- just the way you liked it after an episode like that, holding your free hand and kissing your knuckles and fingertips as you drank with your other hand.  

When you sat the glass down, she stepped between your legs, still stroking her thumb over the back of your knuckles, “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll talk. If you don’t wanna talk, we can go back to sleep. If you want a distraction, we can watch something, or I could read you something. Just let me know, okay?”  

You nodded, reaching up with your other arm for her to come closer. She pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaning into the embrace, wrapping you up in her arms. The two of you remained that way for a few quiet moments until you looked up at her with a sniffle, your chin on her chest, “Sev?”  

“Yes, dreamy?”  

“Can you read to me in bed?”  

“Absolutely, baby. Do you wanna stay with me while I grab a book or go get comfy?” You held onto her tighter and she nodded, stroking your hair, “Alright, I got you.” She moved so that she could give you a piggyback while she grabbed a book. She ran her finger over the titles, moving on to the next one when you let out a little ‘mh-mh’ sound at each one until giving a nod when she got to a book you wanted to hear.  

Once you were both back in bed, Sevika sat up against the headboard with you lying on your stomach between her legs curled up into her chest, she started reading the book, her voice still rather raspy from sleep. She held the book in one hand, her other one up at your face, stroking your cheek with the back of her fingers and only moving to flip the page.

Eventually, you closed your eyes, enjoying the vibrations of her voice in her chest beneath your head and the feel of her fingers on your face. Unconsciously, you took hold of her hand, fiddling with her fingers. She paused in her reading to check in, “You okay?”  

“My mouth feels empty,” you lamented softly, the traces of whining laced in your voice.  

She kissed your temple, “You’ve got my fingers, mama. Do you want me to keep reading?”  

Sevika was no stranger to your occasional bouts like this. You hadn’t had a panic attack like that in a while, but usually when you did, you came out of them feeling very subby, not saying much, and your oral fixation would kick up, usually leading you to say things like ‘my mouth feels empty’. 

You nodded in response to her question as you closed your eyes again, softly sucking and gnawing on her index finger. She smiled as your breathing evened out, setting the book aside as she pulled the covers over you both, allowing you to keep her finger before she picked the book back up.

A little groan left you as you took one more finger into your mouth, shifting atop her with your right arm wrapped around her. She shushed you softly, pressing a kiss to your hair, “I’m right here, dream girl... I’ll never let you go... promise...”

First, he punched.  

Blow after blow into her face.  

To this day, Sevika still has the slightest taste of blood that crops up in her mouth for no apparent reason from time to time.  

It was clear that he was just making himself angrier with each hit, the strikes growing more violent and frenzied the more he spoke, barking at her about bringing another unwanted mouth into the household, about how she was still going to have to work. How could she be so foolish as to allow something like this? Half of his yelling barely made any sense but one thing was clear- he was saying that she’d gotten pregnant on purpose, trying to get out of pulling her weight around here. 

His grip started to shake on her collar until he’d thrown her to the floor, too lazy to bend over and keep using his hands, so here came the infamous worker’s boots, smashing into her stomach and chest with seemingly reckless abandon- yet somehow still managing a concentration of kicks to her stomach. Sevika curled in on herself slightly, instinctively going to guard her stomach which left her chest open.  

There was a sick crunch with each kick there, blood bubbling up out of her mouth as her body was wracked with coughs, the blood spattering across the floor with each one. Her father stopped for a few moments, leaning against the wall to catch his breath as he wheezed. 

"You... are fuckin'.... pathetic..." he huffed, turning back around to prod her face with his foot. 

He spat down at her as she lay there, voice gruff as he all but growled, “Get the fuck up.”  

Sevika was already weak when he came in, having been throwing up essentially all morning before he'd come in to find her when he got home. It hurt to even breathe, ribs threatening to puncture her lungs with every shallow breath she managed, let alone for her to actually get up off the floor. 

She didn’t move.  

He gave her a shove with his foot, pushing her onto her back as his voice got louder, “Did you not hear me, bitch? Get the fuck up!”  

Tears brewed at the back of her eyes. She always says the back because she learned early on not to cry. He hated that almost more than he hated her. 

With a great amount of effort, she rolled onto her side, then her stomach before bracing her hands against the floor to push herself up, low grunts and huffs escaping her the whole way.  

She barely got a few inches off the floor before he used his foot once again to kick her, knocking her back down, “Get up.”  

It was getting harder to hold those tears.  

She wasn’t foolish enough to hope that actually ending up pregnant would change things. She never hoped for anything. But some subconscious part of her did. While she had no plans on keeping the child, not that her father would let her anyway, something deep within her secretly wanted to.  

Her arms were wobbly, weak as she started to push up again. Each time she started to get up as he was demanding, he’d kick up under her, right into her stomach.  

She knew what he was doing.  

She didn’t want to lose the baby.  

Not like this.  

But she couldn’t do anything.  

For years after his death, she berated herself for not killing him sooner.  

After all if she had...

To say you had a disgusting cocktail of things seemingly going wrong with you would’ve been an understatement. 

You were locked in an almost unending cycle of sorts. First, you’d feel so nauseous it was almost like you were seasick. Then you’d throw up, which meant you had to brush your teeth after, lest the unceasing metallic taste be joined by vomit, which meant more gagging and possible throwing up. Then to make you feel even worse, now your gums were bleeding. 

And there was the pains. 

Sevika could barely keep up, but she was doing her best. She went into work less often, explaining the situation to Silco. When she did go in, he kept her for shorter hours, having her back home to you before afternoon. 

You guys were still awaiting your now questionably late period when you called from the bathroom one morning, “Baby?” 

“Yes, mama?” 

“Can you bring me a liner from the closet?” 

“You dropped?” 

“I think?” 

She entered the room with a liner in one hand and fresh panties in the other, “You think?” 

“It’s never been this light before. It’s not spotting, but it’s not my usual first day either,” you explained, letting her see the red and brown that now stained the panties you were wearing initially before you tossed them across the bathroom and into the hamper, taking the fresh ones and the liner from her with a soft ‘thank you’ as you changed.

She leaned against the sink, clearly studying you, trying to rack her brain for any sort of explanation. 

“This just started?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hm.” 

“What are you thinking about over there? I’m not dying, am I?” 

She looked at you like she could kill you before whatever this was did, “Don’t talk like that. I’m just trying to make sense of this. Perhaps we should visit your mom...” 

The last line was muttered more to herself, but you responded all the same. Your mother was a doctor. More than that, she was a pretty damn good one, and she specialized in childbirth and care. She’d helped numerous women through what could’ve otherwise been fatal pregnancies, not to mention you come from a very... fertile line of women. 

“Would that make you feel better if I did?” 

She nodded immediately, “Yes, please. If anyone will know what’s going on with you, it’s definitely her.” 

“You know that’s a six-day trip, right?” 

“Don’t care. I’ll work something out with Silco if need be, but I need to know what’s going on with my girl. Start packing when you get out of here, I’ll be back in 45, okay?” 

You huffed, grumbling to yourself, “Watch it just be somethin’ stupid."

“Nothing’s stupid when it comes to you, dream girl. Don’t make me fuck a reminder into you when I get back.” 

“You’re leavin’ without my kisses? Do y’even love me anymore,” you wailed dramatically. 

You could almost sense her playful eye-roll as you heard her steps clunking back toward your shared bedroom. She bent down to meet you as you placed the liner into your new panties, pressing two kisses to your lips, “Happy now?” 

“No,” you pouted, your bottom lip poked out as you looked up at her sadly. 

She stooped down to your level, face softening, “What’s wrong, my love?” 

“You only gave me two kisses....” you whined, dead serious. 

Her face fell and she pushed your knee, “Don’t scare me like that, I thought something was really wrong, dreamy. Mmmmwah, better?” 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as she planted a very audible kiss on your lips, nodding, “Yes, thank you. And insufficient kisses it very much serious business.” 

“Yeah, when it’s you depriving me, not the other way around. Hurry and get ready, okay? The sooner we figure out what’s going on with you, the better.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. Go talk your way into going with me,” you waved her on, getting up from the toilet as you flushed with one hand, turning the sink on with the other to wash your hands. 

She got maybe three steps away from the door before she was back in the bathroom, tugging your face to hers for a searing- almost teasing- kiss as she muttered before pulling away, “I love you, lock the doors and windows, I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

Despite already missing her presence with her standing right in front of you, you managed a smile, pecking her lips once more, “Hurry, Sevi. The longer it takes you to leave, the longer I have to be here by myself.” 

“Say it back first,” she mumbled against your lips, the two of you still trading kisses back and forth. 

You pressed a lengthier kiss to her lips, looking up at her with a whisper, “I love you...” 

She tilted her head to rest her forehead against yours, closing her eyes, “I’ll be back, okay?” 

“Sev-” 

“I’m fine. I’ll be back.” 

She quickly suppressed the brewing tears, heading to go ask Silco for some time off to make the trip.

Sevika spent that night on the bathroom floor, bloodied and bruised, still coughing up blood periodically as she cradled her stomach, praying to whoever was out there that she didn’t die on that floor. 

She didn’t die. 

Even more, neither did her baby. 

Sevika wasn’t excited. 

She wasn’t happy to be bringing this life into the world. 

Sevika was petrified about the mere idea of it all. 

If she kept the baby, there was the chance her father would kill the baby, or worse, the baby would end up being abused just as she was. She couldn’t have that happen. 

But did she truly want to give it away? 

If the baby was lucky, it would end up being sent topside to Piltover. It’d be safe there as much as she hated to think about her child ending up being a topsider. 

But more likely than not, the kid would end up just in the system. Sent off from home to home around the Lanes. Or even worse, the kid could end up being one of the many orphans on the street. 

Sevika didn’t know what she wanted. Or what she would do. 

To make matters worse, her father acted as if she weren’t even pregnant in the first place. 

She was still working, now having to do even more ‘work’ to make up for the “lackluster performance” from the week she first found out she was pregnant. She was also working at home again, something she hadn’t done much since she’d become an adult. 

It took months for her to begin showing, and by the time she had, it was almost as if her father intended for her to keep the baby. The physical abuse was now reduced to the occasional slap or hair snatch here and there, and though the verbal and emotional abuse intensified in its place, he’d begun seemingly making room for the new addition. 

He was by no means happy about the prospect of his daughter having a child. But the way he saw it, that was another worker to bring money in to fund his drinking, gambling, and other vices. 

The way Sevika saw it? She'd rather die than let her child go through the same things she did. Whether this was something she wanted or not, she knew that if she had to have this child, she’d protect it with her life.

It’s nowhere near the first time you’ve had to make this trip to see your mom. 6 days there, 6 days back. 

The majority of your journey is spent with your symptoms playing a twisted game of roulette, alternating between which ones will be your biggest issue that day. 

You’re a constant mess of tears, throwing up, gagging, whining, and for the life of you, you cannot stop peeing, only to end up releasing barely a trickle if even a few drops. 

You’re tired. 

Sevika is also tired. 

Your wife wasn’t much of a caregiver when the two of you met. She wasn’t the worst, but it was clear that she was still very much learning. By now she's got it pretty much mastered.

She’s been holding you through everything, offering up massages, cuddles, and her fingers whenever you’re starting to get too overwhelmed by all the different compounding symptoms of what’s looking more and more like a pregnancy. 

That’s when the nosebleeds started. 

You’ve never had a nosebleed before. Aside from getting your nose broken that one time, you’d only ever dealt with Sevika’s nosebleeds that she gets during the winter from her nostrils drying out. But you? Never had it happen. 

However, you knew what it meant. 

It ran in the family. Bloody noses and sensitive- sometimes bleeding- gums were some of the earliest pregnancy symptoms within your family. If you didn’t know based on your other symptoms, all other weird yet slightly common symptoms of pregnancy, you definitely knew now. 

You were both in your hotel room, the last stop before the final half-day stretch that would get you to your mother’s house, your back to her front as she trailed her fingers over your stomach, muttering affirmations and praises under her breath at how good you’d been holding up when you felt what you thought was your nose running. 

You reached up to swipe at your nose with a sniff, pulling your sleeve away to find red now smeared across it, “Oh no...” 

She sat up with you, eyes going wide, “Baby?” 

You held your nose, pinching the bottom of your nostrils as you cupped your other hand under your chin, holding your head forward while running to the bathroom. 

It’s not an overwhelming amount of blood. You’ve seen Sevika come home with much worse from particularly bloody brawls at The Last Drop for sure. But to your wife? You may as well be dying. 

Sev is right on your heels, a face towel in her hands already being run under some warm tap water as she pulls you in front of her, taking hold of your chin with her mech hand and assessing the situation as she cleans your face with the towel in her other one. 

“This isn’t normal.... d’you think we can leave tonight? Get a jump on some answers? I’m worried about you.” 

“Baby, it’s just a nosebleed. I won’t bleed out by morning. It’s not even bleeding anymore.” 

She shakes her head, turning your face side-to-side face for signs of any bruising or other things that may be outwardly wrong with you. When she finds none, she starts to gently prod at your nose with a finger, pushing against the bridge and around, “You don’t get it, dreamy. You don’t get nosebleeds. I get those like an orphan gets the cold and flu. Not you... I don’t know a single person in the Lanes who’s just never had a nosebleed like you... I’m scared.” 

While you were now very certain about being pregnant, you wanted to wait to tell her, so you simply took hold of her arms- standard panic protocol between the two of you- as you spoke gently, “Baby, there’s a lot of things going on with me that just aren’t normal for me, but that’s why we’re on this trip. We’ll get answers in the morning, okay? Breathe for me, deep breaths.” 

Sevika’s barrage of questions and worries fizzle out on her tongue as she locks in with you, mumbling a small, “Avalanche,” as she takes a deep breath in time with your own. 

“There we go, my love. What can I do for you to make you feel a bit better right now? If you wanna get back on the road, we can. Or we can go cuddle and I’ll braid your hair. Or we can watch our show. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know, okay?” 

She closed her eyes as she took a final breath, opening them once she blew it back out, “Can you braid my hair and we watch our show?” 

“Of course, baby. Come on, relax time. If my nose bleeds again tonight, we’ll get up and head on immediately.” 

The two of you ended up back in bed, Sevika’s head in your lap as you gave her a few braids to pull back into two little pigtails in place of her usual half pony, you guys’ show playing in the background of her giving you updates on the things she’s gotta do for Silco when you two return back home. 

“And then he was literally all whiny talking about how he needs me to come in at some point when we get back so I can go head up the factory and take stock.” 

You snickered, pulling a hair tie around her first little pigtail, “We need to get this man a calculator class or something. Oh, remind me it’s time for a trim when we get home, your undercut is practically long enough for me to braid it too.” 

She rolled her eyes, rolling over in your lap to face you so you could do the other side of her hair, “Oh hush, it’s not that long.” 

“Nah, I’m just being extra.” 

“I love you...” 

“I love you too.” 

She squeezed her eyes closed, gritting her teeth, “I love you...” 

You noticed the tense in her jaw, voice softening, “I love you more, baby.” 

“Avalanche,” she said meekly, fist gripping your shirt.

You set your comb aside, pulling her up and into your arms as you wrapped your legs around her, allowing her to bury her face in your chest. Slowly rocking side to side, you stroked her hair with one hand, holding her tightly with your other arm as you pressed kisses to her temple and along her hairline, “I got you, Vika.... I’ll never let you go.... never leave... You’re safe... I love you... I’m always going to love you... nothing you do will change that... We’ve been married for so long now... We’re planning babies... We’re still gonna get our homestead... And you can have your animals... I’ll have my fruits and veggies... Me ‘n you, baby...” 

You kept whispering little reassurances, reminding her about you guys’ life plan, the things the two of you have already accomplished together, the ones still to come, all while rocking her and playing in her hair. She was holding onto you for dear life. You’d been waiting for it to hit her again, knowing what time of year it was. 

When her breathing evened out and her grip on you relaxed just the tiniest bit, you pulled back slightly, cleaning the crust from her eyes with your shirt before pulling the article off, tossing it to the floor. You finished her cute little pigtails while she slept, pausing to press a kiss to her nose every time she started to stir a little bit. 

You watched a few more episodes of you guys’ show, making sure to put it back to where it was when she fell asleep before you relaxed as well, pulling the covers up over the two of you. 

With a final kiss to her nose, this one earning a soft smile in her sleep, you leaned your head against hers before following her to sleep, mumbling, “Sweet dreams, my love... You’re gonna be a great mother...”

Pregnancy was... well... 

Sevika wasn’t sure how to describe her pregnancy. She was in such a weird place after the initial day of her father finding out that she wasn’t sure what to make of anything. 

One moment, he was “caring” for her- which really just meant not beating the shit out of her and pimping her out- and the next he was either acting like she didn’t exist or, again, human punching bag. 

As far as symptoms, her vomiting didn’t last very long, took her maybe two weeks after that day for her to get a handle on forcing her morning sickness back down no matter what. 

She really didn’t get the chance to think about it much. Sure, she had aches and pains. Sure, she had cravings. Sure, she was in and out of bathrooms like it was nobody’s business. But, those were all just minor- trivial things that ranged from annoying to slightly inconvenient at times. 

The hard part was delivery. 

Sevika delivered her daughter herself. 

Alone, in a back alley, deep in the very heart of Zaun. 

Giving birth hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before and anything she’d ever feel after. 

Sevika didn’t know much about her body. 

Besides the hateful things spewed about it from her father, the lustful words from her “clients”, and the few things she’d managed to sneak and read back when she was younger, she actually didn’t know much about how her body worked, let alone pregnancy. 

But something seemed to come over her. 

It was as if suddenly she knew everything she needed to have her baby safely. 

Yes, she was giving birth in a dirty alleyway- the whole of Zaun was dirty, it was unavoidable- but even through the pain she was... calm. 

She wasn’t worried about someone finding her and interfering. She wasn’t worried about her father. 

All she cared about was making sure her baby made it out into this world. 

And she did it. 

With nothing but a lighter, a shoelace, a pocketknife, and some stolen whiskey, she delivered her baby. 

A girl. 

She always wanted to have a daughter when she was little. 

She told herself that she’d have a girl so she could give her all the love and care that her father never showed her. 

She named her Mieko. 

Sevika didn’t know who the father was before now. 

And even though Mieko was but a newborn, she knew. 

This baby belonged to her father.

The next morning was a rush. 

Sev wanted to get to your mom’s as soon as possible. She didn’t say anything about last night aside from asking if your nose had bled any more after she fell asleep, and you didn’t mention it either. 

But the cloud still hung. 

You noticed her fiddling with the two shell casings that hung from the same chain as her wedding ring. Every so often her hand would stray up to her neckline, fingers practically searching for the items that sat just beneath the fabric of her shirt. Each time you just gave her mech hand a little squeeze, kissing the back of it just the same as you would her flesh hand. 

She was thankful you didn’t pry. You never did, actually. Sure, you knew what the casings held within them, and even more you knew exactly what it meant when she started to play with them, but you didn’t bother her about it. You gave her breath and space to grieve in her own way, never pushing for answers, never making her feel weak for showing her sadness. It was one of the many reasons she loved you so much. 

Naturally, the somber mood slowly started to lift the closer the two of you got to your mother’s place of residence. You knew Sev was only mostly trying to distract herself, but you also knew how much she and your mother adored one another. 

Presently, she was still fiddling with that chain of hers, rubbing the casings between her fingers as she spoke, “D’you think she’ll try and keep us here if it turns out we’re just having a baby?” 

“As if you’d be opposed. The way you two act, people would swear I was the one who married in.” 

She chuckled, sticking her tongue out at you, “Don’t be mad at me because moms prefers me. I’m just that guy.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully mushing her in the face, “Literally die. Don’t ever say some stupid shit like that again.” 

“Or what?” 

“No booty.”

“What?!” She cried incredulously, immediately on her knees, “C’mon, mama, you know I was just playing. ‘M sorry...” she trailed, looking up at you with puppy eyes. 

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you as you pulled her up by her chin, being sure to press your lips to hers when she got close enough before she was once again standing over you, “You gotta be nice to me, okay? I’m 65 percent sure mom wrote me out of her will to put you in it.” 

She rolled her eyes playfully before leaning down to kiss you once more, “Oh, please, even if she did you already know I’d just give it all to you anyway.” 

“True, true.” 

“You ready?” 

“Yeah, are you?” 

“Hell yeah. If you end up not being pregnant we’ll just try again when we get home... so long as you’re not dying or something.” 

“What if I was?” 

“Don’t make me beat your ass, dreamy.” 

You gasped dramatically, “You tryna eat my ass?!” 

“I most certainly would hope not.” 

The two of you immediately forgot about the little argument that was about to start as you both raced to get to your mom first from where she stood on her porch. 

“Mommy,” you exclaimed as you launched yourself into her arms. 

She let out a dramatized grunt as she wrapped you up in her embrace, squeezing you tightly, “I wish you’d have told me you were coming before I felt you. Would’ve made your favorites.” 

“Sorry, it was kind of an emergency.” 

Sevika cut in, tugging you out of the way, “Yeah, kinda like you hogging moms right now.” 

Your mother snickered, squeezing Sev just the same, “You two need to be nice and stop fighting over me all the time. You both know that I love you equally.” 

“But Sev’s not even-” 

“What did I just say, gummy?” 

You huffed, folding your arms as you grumbled under your breath, “I can’t stand either of you.” 

When the two finally released each other, your mother turned her attention back to you, raising a brow, “Sevi, baby, can you do me a favor?” 

“Anything, moms.” 

“Go to the garden and gather the vegetables I’ll need for stir fry, please. I’ll be in the kitchen after I finish with this one,” she requested, eyes never leaving you as she seemed to be scrutinizing you. Sev left with a kiss to your cheek and another to your mom’s temple before she practically skipped away into the garden like the overgrown kid she really was. 

“Do you have something you wanna tell me?” 

“What do you mean, ma?” 

“You’re choosing that card? Step into my office, gummy.” 

You bit your lip as you followed after her into her home office, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie, “I swear to you, I don’t think I’ve got anything worse than a cold-” 

“Sit down,” she instructs, not looking to play these games with you. You shut up immediately, sitting back as she takes your vitals, “Last period?” 

“9 weeks ago.” 

“6 weeks late, huh?” 

“I know what you’re thinking and-” 

“Did you know I’ve been dreaming about fish for a month now? Tiny little fish swimming around with tadpoles.” 

You looked up at her as she handed you a cup, “Seriously, ma? I’m literally your only gay child.” 

She raised a brow, “What does that have to do with me? Piss. I’m testing everyone, it hasn’t just been you.” 

“So you tested Ky?” 

“Sure did.” 

You rolled your eyes the moment your back was turned, a slipper promptly smacking you in the back of the head, “Ow! I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You rolled your eyes and you were grumbling in your head about me making your brother take a pregnancy test. Obviously, I tested his wife, genius.” 

You smacked, rubbing the back of your head, “I didn’t even-” she raised her other slipper and you promptly shut your mouth before grabbing her slipper from earlier, handing it back to her. “I started getting the nosebleeds,” you mumbled softly. 

She looked up from her clipboard, voice and eyes softer than before, “Dear, why you know-” 

“That it means I’m pregnant? Yeah... I know...” 

She set her things aside, wrapping her arms around you, “Oh my little girl... all grown up... about to have a little girl of her own.” 

You chuckled through the tears that had begun to fall, “We don’t even know if it’s a girl yet. Not even close to finding that out.” 

 She waved your argument away, rubbing your back, “Did you forget who your mother is?” 

You didn’t answer, holding her a little tighter. Your mom softened, voice quiet as she questioned, “What’s wrong, gummy?” 

“I’m scared...” 

“Of?” 

“All of it.... being a mom... having a kid in the heart of Zaun... what if... what if Sevika falls out of love with me? Or I fuck up and lose the baby somehow? Or-” 

“Excuse me? I know this isn’t how I raised you to think.” 

“I know, but-” 

“No buts. You’re scared of being a mom? Comes with the territory. You’re scared of having your kid in the heart of Zaun? Guess what, baby girl, that’s where my mom had me, and look at how I turned out. You think you’ll somehow breathe wrong and lose the baby, I already know because I know you- you won’t. I’ll check you two out properly before you guys go back home just to be sure everything is fine and in working order with you and your body and the baby.” 

“As for Sevika? Sweet girl, if you think that girl is going anywhere away from you, then you clearly have a lot of learning to do. She looks at you like you’re the very air she needs to breathe; as if you hung the sun, moon, and stars just for her. That girl loves you even more than I do, and you’re my baby,” she chimed, playfully pinching your cheek, “Make no mistake, there’s nothing that could make her fall out of love with you. Not this one. And by Janna, if she does- call me.” 

You chuckled through your tears, letting out a little sigh, “I got this?” 

She gave you a kiss to your forehead, “Yes, sweet girl. You’ve got this. And I’ll be here the whole time, okay? And you’ve got a wife that loves you... You’ll be okay. And if you ever want to move back up here at any time during your pregnancy or after, let me know. My door is always open, you know this.” 

“I know....” 

The two of you stood like that for a good while before you mumbled, “Mommy?” 

“Yes, gummy?” 

“Thank you.” 

She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head as she held you a little tighter, “Anything for my girl. I’ll keep the news to myself so you can tell my other daughter, alright?” 

“Thanks... I love you.” 

She planted an audible kiss to your forehead, “Of course, little one. I love you more. Now clean that pretty little face and get yourself together. I’ll tell your wife you’re using the bathroom while we get dinner going, okay?” 

You let out a happy little sigh, giving your mother one last good squeeze, “Thanks, mommy.” 

She gave your stomach a little pat before turning to leave, “Don’t take too long or you know she’ll come find you. Also, you have a cold, sit your ass on the couch when you come out and don’t you dare set foot in my kitchen, you hear?” 

“Yes, mommy. I’ll be out in a second.” 

The door closed behind her and you placed a hand on your stomach letting out a little breath, “Now I’ve gotta figure out how to tell your mom about you, angel.”

2 years. 

Sevika had been hiding her daughter from her father successfully for 2 years. 

She doesn’t know how he found her. She didn’t know then and, to this day, she doesn’t know now. 

She’d returned to her childhood home from a day of “work”, heart falling from her stomach as Mieko came tottering to her, wrapping around her leg. 

For the longest time, fear was the only word she could use to describe that day, but no... it was something more than that. Sevika wasn’t just afraid. She was horrified. Petrified even. 

How long had her daughter been alone with her father? How did he find her? How long had he known about her? Was this his first time coming into contact with her? 

A million questions and terrible scenarios ran through her mind, the soft pat of her daughter’s hand on her leg pulling her from the slow descent into panic. She couldn’t help but smile at her baby, picking her up and smothering her in kisses as the little girl dissolved into giggles. She could feel her father’s eyes watching her every move. 

“You take her to the back room.” His voice was gruff as always, words short and to the point. 

Sevika froze. She knew what was coming for her if she let go of her daughter and faced him alone. She didn’t move, arms clutching onto her child as her heart raced even faster than her thoughts. 

There had to be a way out of this. 

Her father hated repeating himself. His anger was palpable, a churning storm ready to roll through the house as he slammed his fist down, “Back room, now!” 

The loud noise and his elevated voice scared Mieko. She started crying. He hates crying. 

Sevika slowly backed toward the front door, holding a crying Mieko to her chest as she tried to quiet her. 

Wrong. 

Her father was in front of her in an instant, large hands reaching for Mieko. Sevika went to turn around, run back out the door, only to have her face smashed into it, her daughter torn from her arms by his other hand. He shook the crying child, screaming at her to shut up. 

Disoriented with blurry vision, Sevika stood on unsure feet, trying to reach for her daughter back. 

She felt that familiar tiny hand clutch her finger for the briefest of moments before a shot rang out. 

She saw red.

Sevika’s hand strayed to the shell casings around her neck frequently throughout dinner, her eyes misty and sort of far away. Your mother looked to you, wondering what was up with her daughter in law, but you waved off her concern, stroking your thumb over Sevika’s thigh in a show of silent comfort each time she withdrew from the conversation. 

After dinner was finished and the dishes had been put away, your mother left for bed with a kiss to each of your foreheads. You sat on the couch with your wife, rolling a cigar for her as she curled around you, her flesh hand at your stomach, tracing patterns over the bit of skin poking from beneath your top. 

You placed the ‘gar between your lips, lighting it before taking a hit and holding it out for your wife. 

She took it, not hitting it, but studying it before she took a hit, sighing upon her exhale of the smoke. 

“How are you feelin’,” you asked softly, playing with her semi-wavy hair that had been freed from the braids and pigtails you’d made the night prior. 

“Stressed... worried...” she trailed off, voice falling quieter as she passed the blunt back to you, “sad...” 

“Where do you wanna start?” 

She shrugged, unwrapping herself from around you to sit up beside you, “Dunno... it’s all just a lot right now...” 

You leaned your head on her shoulder, taking a couple more hits of the blunt before you passed it back to her, taking up interest in her mech hand as you started to fiddle with the metal, “Okay.... what’s got you stressed?” 

“Everything...” 

“But in particular at this moment?” 

She didn’t answer for a few moments, eyes clouding over again. You gave her mech hand a squeeze, whispering gently, “Hey...” 

“Hm?” 

“You keep leaving me... Talk to me...” 

“Is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met?” 

Her mom. 

You gave a small nod, “Entirely possible.” 

“It’s like.... this longing... But it’s more than that because how can you long for something you never truly had? Even worse to miss someone who... who’s not here anymore because of you...” 

Her last sentence was like a ghost, the words dissipating the moment they left her lips. 

“Sevi...” 

“It’s fine, I’m-” 

“No, you aren’t, baby... And you don’t have to be. It’s okay to not be okay... But I wish you’d stop faulting yourself for that...” 

She let out a sigh, holding the blunt out for you, “I know... Just.... can we talk about something else? Or just cuddle and smoke?” 

You nodded as you took another hit, “We can do that.” 

The silence that fell was comfortable, the two of you sharing the blunt back and forth until it was nothing but a roach left. You leaned to place it in the ashtray on the coffee table before moving to lay aginst Sev’s chest. 

Your body was buzzing. It had been a while since you last smoked and you felt that familiar sensation of both floating and sinking into your wife’s body as you lay atop her, her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, flesh hand trazing lazy patterns along your spine. 

You tilted your head slightly to look up at her, her eyes fixated on the ceiling, but not really- she was thinking. 

“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered. 

Her grin was immediate as she moved her vision down to you, those silver orbs darkened in her high state, “You think so?” 

You nodded, curling further into her as you closed your own eyes, “So pretty... I hope the baby gets your eyes.”

Sevika is known for being a woman who revels in violence. 

The Scary lady of Zaun. 

She’s the one who kicks ass and takes names- no questions. 

But it wasn’t always like that. 

The shot flipped a switch in her. 

To be quite honest, she’s not sure what exactly killed him. 

Maybe it was her beating him. 

Maybe it was her bashing his skull into the wall. 

Maybe she’d broken his ribs with her kicks, punctured a lung or even better his heart. 

She didn’t know. 

But when the rage had settled and her father lie dead on the floor, she saw her little girl. 

She crumpled, those tears she’d been holding back for so long in her life ripped from her as she held her girl in her arms. 

Those tiny fingers wrapped around her pinky for the last time, matching silver orbs growing dim as Mieko took her final breath in her mother’s arms.

Sevika’s heart stopped in her chest as she froze beneath you. 

You sat up, looking down to find her eyes glossed over, a single tear escaping, “Sev?” 

Her eyes were wide, heart hammering away in her chest, threatening to burst from it as she just barely managed to speak, “You... you’re...” 

You took her hands, nodding as you whispered, “Yeah, baby... I’m pregnant.” 

You were holding back tears of your own. You’d only seen your wife cry once, and that was on your wedding day. Sevika crying was as rare as you getting a nosebleed. 

You cupped her face in your hands, wiping away her tears as they fell. She seemed frozen, eyes faraway again as she whispered feebly, “You...” 

Sevika didn’t know what to say. She had dreamed about this moment, played it out a million different ways in her head. She just knew she’d wrap you up in her arms, a mess of kisses and giggles. But now that it was here, the two of you under the light of the fire in your mom’s living room, she was stuck. 

Her eyes focused on you as you spoke, tears in your eyes, “Hey, come back to me? You okay?” 

No, she wasn’t okay. 

“You’re pregnant...” she whispered, still sounding like she didn’t believe it. 

You let out a soft chuckle, nodding as you leaned in to kiss a line down her nose, ending with her lips, “We made a baby, Sev...” 

There were stars in her eyes as she stared at you. She was never one for flowery language, she’d tried, but she always stumbled over her words or felt like she’d just come off cheesy. Her hands moved to your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your stomach as she looked up at you, “We did...” 

“We’re gonna be parents...” 

“We are...” she whispered, her words thick as she blinked away a fresh batch of tears. 

You didn’t wipe them away this time. Instead, you pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her as she tucked her face into the crook of your neck. If you felt her tears soak through your shirt, you didn’t say anything, fingers combing through her hair as you rocked softly. 

Sevika was swimming through her thoughts in her mind. She was petrified and ecstatic at the same time, but the fear seemed to overtake the happiness by an astounding wave, causing her to press further into you. You simply wrapped your arms tighter around her, pressing a kiss into her hair as you rubbed her back to keep her grounded. 

Her mind was running about a million miles a minute. Flashbacks of her own pregnancy, her labor and delivery in that cramped alley... the few moments of peace and happiness shared with her daughter.... Mieko’s eyes as the life leaked from them... 

Then she thought about you. The life the two of you have settled into together. The day that started all of this when the two of you decided to try for a baby. About all the shit you’ve had to put up with thus far and all the things to come. 

She pulled back to look at you, silver eyes glistening still in the lowlight, pupils blown as she found her voice, whispering under her breath, “Thank you...” 

Your eyes caught on your mother, a soft smile on your face as she mouthed, “I told you so.” 

🤎©️ All work belongs to sexysapphicshopowner. Do not use or repost my content in any way without my consent or permission. Thank you! 🤎

🤎 Taglist 🤎:

@certainlynotasimp @trafalgardvivi @love-sugarr @archangeldyke-all @fyeahnix

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 5

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Chapter 5: We’re all gonna die

Summary: The group needs to leave the CDC in a hurry, they find a place to stay the night and head to Fort Benning in the other day. But if Y/N knew something is that if it was bad, it could become worse.

Warnings: swearing, little angsty, fluffy, nightmares, violence, mentions of death, mentions of a possible rapist (coughshanecough), a child get lost, blood (?), pinkies. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 4,016

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. I’m consulting a timeline of everything that happened, but it can happen that I put events out of order, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference in the story. ALSO, I’m praying my Daryl isn’t too out of character.

You woke up with Luna scratching the door, probably someone was already up and she wanted to leave, see the person and play around. You got up and told her to wait. You went to the bathroom, brushed your teeth, washed your face and brushed your hair… it was kind of still humid when you went to sleep, so at the moment you could just say it was a mess. You changed your sleeping clothes into your ‘daily life I need to run if shit happens’ clothes and finally opened the door so Luna could leave. She went straight to Glenn and T.Dog that were talking in the corridor, Gleen looked awful.

“Good morning boys!” You said while approaching them.

“I’m never. NEVER. Drinking again.” Glenn stated, face contorted and hand on his stomach.

“That’s what we all say. You’ll drink again eventually and be hangover too. But with the time you get better at it.” T.Dog tried encouraging.

“I’m serious, I’m not putting alcohol in my mouth again.”

“Poor baby, I feel sorry for you. But well, world is ending and now you can at least say that you already got drunk and hangover once.” You hugged him sideways. At the same time it was bad to see the younger man in this situation, it was also a little bit funny to see him having this experience.

You let both of them go to the kitchen to have breakfast, you wanted to have breakfast too, but before you wanted to say hello to your family and seek some hugs. You liked hugs, specially in the morning. When you were little you would hug all your family in the morning, or at least the ones you had close so you could hug. At Uni, it would be your friends or your boyfriend that at the time thought you were too clingy, and when you received Luna as a gift, and were living alone, she would be the ‘person’ you would be hugging every morning. You also liked hugs during the day, but in this world you didn’t have time for this, and also you knew that most of people didn’t like to be hugged all the time.

When you was on your way to your family’s room, you encountered Lori. She looked terrible, and she didn’t drink that much. She saw you and tried to put a smile in her face. You just went to her and gave her a hug, this hug would be because of your necessity to hug people, but in the moment you knew she was the one that needed that hug.

“What happened? No offense, but you look like shit and I know you didn’t drink that much.” You asked leaving the embrace but still close and caressing her shoulders. “Did Rick and you have a fight? Do you want me to kick his ass?”

“He… he didn’t do anything. We’re fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” But you couldn’t not worry when your sister in law looked like she had been crying all night long. Would it be possible that Shane didn’t listen to your advice? You knew Lori was trying to distance from him, even if in the wrong way and even if the best thing to do in the moment was for both of them to sit and have a talk with Rick. But you knew she was trying.

“Of course I worry. We’re sisters. If it was Shane…” Before you said what you wanted to say Carl left the room and you had to stop talking. “Good morning little man!” You said and soon embraced him.

“Good morning Aunt Y/N, did you sleep well?” He asked after your embrace.

“Yeah, and you?”

“Me too, It was so good to sleep on a good place after so long.” Even the kids knew how to appreciate the comfort you all lose.

Rick apparently was knocked out, you didn’t blame him… he was the one that drank the most. Lori was going to wake him up, so you decided to go have your breakfast, siblings morning hug could wait. You took Carl with you, followed by Luna that would smell everything along the way. When you were close to the kitchen she ran lefting both of you behind.

“I think Luna can already smell the breakfast.” Carl commented, you laughed that was pobrably true.

When you arrived to the kitchen you discovered the true reason that she ran. Him. Daryl Dixon. And probably he was the reason why she started to scratch the door to go out making you wake up. ‘Are you in love with him Luna?’ You thought, because seamed that even your dog had a crush on the man. Talking about him, you hoped it would not be weird between you two today, because you would hate yourself for it. But he made a pinky promise, right? And he was not happy about making it, so he’s probably going to comply with it.

“Morning everyone!” You said once you were in the kitchen. Glenn had his face on the table hid by his arms and mumbled something incomprehensible, Sophia answered back, as did Carol.

“Mornin’” Daryl replied from where he was being overwhelmed by Luna’s love.

“I think that’s it, I’m gonna give her to you. It’s clear now that she likes you better.” You declared, he just mumbled something face getting tinted in red at your sight remembering the last night.

“You can’t give the gifts you receive to others, Y/N/N.” Shane complained playfully entering the room. Luna was a gift from him and Rick, like many other things you had. He came to you and hugged you, giving a kiss on the top of your head. “Good morning.”

“Morning…” you replied appreciating the hug. Now that you were on good therms again both of you felt comfortable about it. “But look at her Shane, she obviously doesn’t like me anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” He said pulling away from the hug. You looked at him and saw a bruise on his face and neck, like someone scratched him pretty bad. ‘Shane… what kind of stupid shit did you do?’, you thought to yourself.

“What is this?” You asked pointing at him.

“Er… I think I scratched myself while sleeping, I woke up and was like this.” He gave the excuse, you didn’t believe, but you would not make a scene right now.

You sat on the table and ate your breakfast in silence, thinking about everything and trying to put the pieces together and you were not liking the path your thoughts were going, because the pieces you put together told you Shane was a rapist and you could not conceive the fact that maybe he tried to force Lori to something. You got chills at the thought, but was soon distracted when your brother entered the room.

“You look like shit.” You blurted your thoughts without thinking much.

“Good morning for you too, wanna know something? It feels like shit too.” He came to you and you hugged his waist not worrying about getting up from your chair.

During the breakfast Dale questioned Jenner about the things you needed to know, he was not wrong you really were there for answers. Jenner took you to the control room and asked the virtual assistant to play for you one of their experiments and you could see a person dying and reanimating afterwards. At the same time it was shocking, it was very impressive to see the human brain functioning.

In a short time you also discovered that your time in the CDC was getting short, you were going to get short on air, electricity and the whole building would go on flames. Like, how could he let this out and tell nobody the day before? You ran to take all your things from the rooms and get out of there as fast as possible, but the doors were closed and chaos was everywhere, some tried to break the doors, others tried to convince Jenner to open the goddamn door. And Jenner revealed to everybody that Rick thought it was a question of time for all of you to be dead.

“And he didn’t lie smart pants, we’re probably all gonna die soon or later, but we don’t wanna die right now so open the fucking door” you had already lost your patience and were considering if beating his ass wasn’t a so bad alternative.

You don’t know exactly how, but Rick convinced Jenner to open the door. The son of a bitch could open the door all this time! Jacqui decided to stay and there wasn’t much you could do about it. You tried to convince her, but nothing worked. Andrea also decided to stay and Dale stayed to try convincing her, you were not going to wait and see the results. You grabed your things and Luna’s harness and ran as fast as you could to the exit.

When you got to the exit you couldn’t leave using the door, the only way was a big glass in the building that apparently was bulletproof cause it was very resistant. To your lucky Carol had found a granade in Rick’s clothes while washing it and you couldn’t be more grateful about it. All of you shielded behind some stairs, Daryl “hugged” you kind of shielding you and Luna from anything and the granade exploded breaking the glass. As soon as the glass was broken Rick commanded everyone to go and leave. You saw all the glass on the floor and you couldn’t possible let Luna step on them. You tried to carry her with much difficulty, she was a big dog, even for a female. Daryl was almost jumping outside when he turned and saw you struggling to carry the dog.

“Come on! Hurry up!” He said a little pissed, a little nervous and a little angry too.

“I’m going I can’t let her step in the glass!” You stated. He grunted and came to you taking Luna from you, he carried her fast and easily to the “exit” what helped you being faster too.

“After all this shit, you better fucking obey me.” He said to the german shepherd putting her on the ground, taking your pulse and running to the cars.

As soon as you got to the car he opened the door, You entered it and next thing you knew he was telling you to get down, his body pressed on yours and an enormous explosion was heard.

His face was hidden on your neck, you could feel his warm breath and you couldn’t help but remember from the last night. You were feeling like a teenager full of hormones again. After some moment he raised his face and looked at you.

“Are ya alright?” He asked looking at your face. “Sorry if I crushed ya.”

“I’m fine. It’s okay, thanks for the help.” You answered, before you could do anything Luna, that was on the truck’s floor, licked Daryl’s face with no warning.

“Not my mouth Luna!” He complained, you couldn’t resist but laugh.

“I think we can get up D.” You said still laying in the car seat with him on top of you.

“Er… yeah, sure. It’s true.” He got up, opened the car door so you two could organize things to leave and for a moment you contemplated all the destruction that explosion caused.

Soon Dale and Andrea could be seen and you were glad that they could make it in time. First thing you decided to leave the place, you could decide were to go after it. You stopped at the Vatos’ place, you didn’t know this place, but it looks like Glenn, Daryl, T.Dog and Rick ran through it last time they were in Atlanta.

When you entered the place it was clearly abandoned, but soon you discovered dead bodies, some where shoot and others stabbed. You don’t know how Andrea could think hey were dead by walkers, it made no sense. That was cruel. All those elderly people executed.

“They were good people.” Rick sadly told you. “They tried to appear tough so other would not harm them… It looks like it didn’t last for a long time.”

He told you how they cared for these elderly people that were abandoned to die by the ones that took care of them. It was incredibly touching all the history and sad how it ended. Sometimes, you thought if this world were a place for good people.

You needed a place to stay, so you found an empty room so you all could pass the night before heading to Fort Benning. The room would be crowded for all of you, but at least would be sure everyone was safe. Daryl offered to take the first watch, sitting by the window. You chose a spot in the back of the room to put your sleeping bag and take some rest.

Hands. Dead hands. Grabing you. Pulling you. You fought against them, but they were too many. You had no weapons. Nothing. You tried, but you couldn’t fight longer and when you gave up fighting you were bitten, once you felt the stabbing pain, you woke up. Fighting for air. A burning sensation on your chest. Fuck. You hated nightmares, and since the world ended you had plenty of them. You sat and looked around for Luna, she was nowhere close to you and now you could use some cuddle with her.

In the dark room you could see Daryl’s silhouette at the window, and now you had an idea where Luna could be. You got up and approached the archer.

“Go to sleep, I’ll take watch now.” You said sitting by the other side of the window.

“Nah, not happening. My watch’s not over and T.Dog said he was taking next watch.” Anyone else would gladly go to sleep and let you on watch, but ‘Daryl’s fucking stubborn’ you thought.

“I’m not sleeping now, so you could use some sleep.” You stated and focused your attention on the window.

“Was it bad?” He asked and for a second you didn’t understand. “The nightmare.” He knew you had one, even in the dark he could see your sleep was not a peaceful one.

“Yep.” You gave a short answer, funny because most of the time you did all the conversation and Daryl didn’t have to talk much.

“Do ya really think we’re all gonna die?” Yes, you really thought, and that terrified you. You were afraid of dying, but you were absolutely scared of everyone you cared about dying and being left alone. So, you were terrified and also a little selfish for not thinking about how the others would be if you died first.

“Eventually? Yes. We’re out numbered.” You said, you just didn’t know when or how, but the odds were not on your favor. “I-I don’t wanna die.” You confessed, just because you thought everyone was going to die, it didn’t mean you were not afraid of dying. “And I don’t want neither of you to die.”

He could give you any harsh answer. He did got mad back at the CDC when he heard Rick said everyone was going to die and he also get pissed when you said he didn’t lie. But he could see you were frightened. He hated to show weakness, he was taught he couldn’t be weak. You were usually strong, of course you were very emotional like most women, but you were different… you knew how to fight, you’d kill walkers and not be afraid to protect the people you cared. Eventhough the first connection you made you were in a vulnerable moment, he could see your strength. So he could not bring himself to lose his temper with you at this moment. Also the fact that if your conversation got heated you would wake everyone up, helped a little.

“Don’t think about it. We’re gonna survive. We’re gonna fight. I can’t say that we aren’t gonna die, but we’re gonna be a pain in the ass of death, cause she’s gonna have to work her ass to kill us.” You thought this was the time he had most talked in all the time you knew him, it was not typical from him to talk much. “Ya aren’t giving up. Ya aren’t gonna stop fighting. Promise me.”

“Are you really asking me to make a promise?” You asked incredulously, he was so resistant to make a promise to you the day before. You were almost incapable to hold a laugh when you saw his hand in front of you with his pinky raised.

“C’mon, I don’t have the whole night.”

“Ok, I promise. I’m not giving up or gonna stop fighting.” You linked you pinky with his and sealed with your thumbs.

Daryl got up and went to T.Dog, waking him up to take the watch. He came at you and said: “Let’s sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping D.” You tried to say, you couldn’t dare closing your eyes and seeing the horrible scene from your nightmare.

“The watch is mine Y/N/N, you can go to sleep.” T.Dog said taking the place near the window.

“C’mon” Daryl called you again.

You followed him to the spot where you were sleeping previously he dropped his sleeping bag on the side of yours and gestured for you to lay down to sleep. You laid turned to his side, he had his back on the floor and stared at the ceiling, but he could feel your eyes on him.

“Go to sleep.” He whispered turning to you.

“I can’t, I feel that I’m gonna be there again if I close my eyes…” you didn’t need to say much, he knew you were talking about the nightmare.

“Ya’re not there. Ya here. I’m here.” He said and what he did next you didn’t expect. His hand went to yours and he intertwined your pinkies. And you could not help but feel a warm feeling in your heart. “Now, let’s sleep.”

The next morning you woke up with Luna licking all of your face. You tried protecting your face, but she wasn’t going to give up. You sat and didn’t saw Daryl by your side anymore. Everyone was getting ready to leave, so you had to do the same.

When everyone was ready a discussion about having less cars started, it was agreed that it would be better to economize fuel. You’d only remain with Carol’s Cherokee, the RV and Merle’s bike, that was now Daryl’s. You’d be all crushed in the cars, butyou had to make choices.

You were already leaving the room when Daryl stopped you. “I think it’s better if you go with Rick. The bike isn’t very comfortable for 2 during a long trip.” You should have seen it coming, but well… he was kind of right.

“Sure, no problem.” You smiled, he wasn’t wrong but you couldn’t help feeling upset. You liked travelling with him. “I’m sure Luna and me can fit well on the back of the Cherokee.”

Rick made sure to make some space for you in the back of the cherokee and you sat back there while Luna sniffed everything.

“Can I go in the back with you Aunt Y/N?” Carl asked you by time he entered the car.

“Sorry Carl, there’s no room for you AND it’s safer where you are.” You said, there was room and you knew he would play that card, he was a smart kid, so you played the “safe” card before he could come with something smart.

The rest of the car trip was uneventful, that is until you came to a huge block on the road made by several abandoned vehicles. You tried going until the radiator hose of the RV broke. You all got out of the cars and decided to look infor supplies or anything useful. You found some snacks, headache pills and a kitchen knife. Not much to be honest. You thought you’d be more successful looking for fuel and car parts.

You gave up and went to Daryl and T.Dog, to help and learn how to siphon fuel. You could be alone anytime and need it, so it was a useful thing to know. Then you heard Rick telling everyone to hide, a herd was coming. Fuck. Where were you supposed to hide with a fucking gigantic dog and at the same time make the dog quiet?

You brought Luna behind a van that was kind of transversal on the road and had concrete blocking on the other side you sat there on the floor and put the harness around Luna’s mouth hopping it would be enough to make her quiet until the herd passed. Memories of your nightmare came to your mind and you tried to calm yourself and your breathing, that wasn’t a good time to panic. They were passing while you prayed for whatever was out there that they would not see you. You were well hidden but if one of them tripped and fall on you, you were doomed for sure.

As soon as all of them were gone, Daryl came to find you. “Are ya ok?” You got up and nodded, but he knew you were far from ok, you were shaking.

Soon you heard a commotion and ran back to where everyone was. Sophia had run to the woods followed by walkers. Shit. If it could get worse, it would get worse. Carol was despaired and when Rick came back without the little girl she cried even more. Lori and you hugged her trying to reassure that they would find her. “Daryl is the best tracker, he’ll find her.” You said while rubbing her back.

T.Dog had an ugly cut on his arm, you take a first aid kit to clean it and cover. You were a doc after all, an animal doc, but nobody could ask much during the apocalipse, and you knew how to properly disinfect the wound. “Wow, it looks bad. I think you need stiches, but we also don’t have anything to do this. Some antibiotics would do good.” You commented while cleaning the wound and preparing to bandage it.

“It’s gonna be ok, I’m tough. Don’t worry.” He say, but you knew you all should worry and take a look on him from time to time, because if he had fever the chances of it going really wrong were big.

When Daryl and Rick came back without Sophia it was heartbreaking. They said they encountered a walker and they killed and opened it to make sure it didn’t kill or ate Sophia. Just imagining gave you chills. Carol blamed Rick for leaving the girl alone while he was actually trying to save her. You couldn’t blame Carol for her reaction, but you couldn’t blame your brother either. It was not his fault, it wasn’t Sophia’s fault too.

Soon all of you went to sleep with the promise to find Sophia in the morning. You laid with Luna and Carl in the back of the Cherokee and while they slept peacefully you couldn’t dare to allow yourself to sleep… until your eyes closed and you did.

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Judas in the Window (18+)

pairing: priest(apprentice)!chan x fem!collegestudent!reader

genre: ANGST ANGST and smut (mdni), childhood best friends to..?

description: you return home from college, after not seeing your old town for three years. your childhood best friend has been waiting for you.

warnings: no. genuinely so sad. religious guilt, blasphemy ig, slutshaming, degradation (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), desperation, fingering (f. receiving), humiliation, unprotected sex (do not do this shit), brief breeding kink, mentions of past unhappiness, reader has beef with her old self fr, alcohol consumption, pet names (darling, baby, some more i dont recall), LOTS of biblical references, i warned you this is incredibly sad and wether it's a good ending is certainly debatable, reader has both her parents (if u dont, same, just imagine the dad as adam sandler and the mom as gwendoline christie), the dad is the best character x

quotes from my proofreader: "i have a new pair of panties at the ready", "im horny and angry, some say hangry", "AAAAAA"

wordcount: 8.3k

a/n: it is 2:30 am. my proofreader is asleep and i might go crazy if i dont post this now, so if there are any mistakes in the last part i am sorry, ill fix it later lmao

Your room hasn’t changed a bit.

You’re not sure why the sight knocks the wind out of you. You suppose you’d thought your parents might do something with it - maybe give your dad a “man cave” or whatever other pained, heteronormative solution to hating each other. But it’s the same exact thing. Your bed, horrible orange wood, pink princess sheets, and your desk right beside you where you stand in the doorway, all cluttered with glitter pens and marker sets and a small mirror. 

“Isn’t this great, honey?” your mom squeals, old hands squeezing your shoulders. It takes you a second to reply. You’re not even sure you want to step inside the room. “Yeah, yeah, it’s great, mom.” 

“I’m getting dinner ready, you just settle yourself in!” she says, practically vibrating at your presence. She’s so happy, it jabs at your stomach with guilt, that you can’t even bring yourself to enter. You watch her disappear down the stairs, making a funny face when she catches your eye. You half-smile tiredly. Then you’re looking at it again.

It’s like a totally closed off time capsule. Your fingers play with the doorframe, looking at the stains in the carpet, that you vividly remember creating as a clumsy child. You see the stickers on your closet-door, and the faint outline of the stickers you’d taken down. You see toys, whose names you remember, you see terrible drawings over your bed, hung with glitter tape, and you see yourself. The you that you were certain you’d stuck in the dirt and buried. The one you’d worked over-over-overtime to never see again. She was somehow alive and well in this room. A part of you roamed with a horde of anxiety, birthed by the thought that once you entered, you and her would fuse together, and all the flaws you’d had would be reignited, and you would be miserable again.

“You not going in, champ?” you jump at your father’s voice behind you. You turn to see him exiting your parents’ bedroom, taking heavy, loggy steps towards the staircase. You shake your head: “No, I am, it’s just..” you pause and turn back to the room, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s weird.” 

Your father pauses. He has his reading glasses pushed all the way down to the tip of his nose, so he leans his head back and squints to study you. “Well- well- well, why don’t you just try out for a bit, champ, and if you don’t like it, Uh, well, we’ll situate you on the couch. How’s- how’s that sound?” 

You smile softly. “Sure.” 

“Alright, champ,” he pats your back and finally starts his descent down the stairs. 

You nod to yourself and exhale deeply, face now turned back to the super menacing not-at-all-menacing room before you. Your fears are deeply irrational. You wouldn’t just revert back to your old self. Once you’re half believing it, you finally break the barrier, and take a step inside. 

It’s not so bad after all. Everything is very still. Dust kicked up from your presence slows down around you. You’re standing under the overhead lamp, and it’s not that bad. Not so bad. You drop your duffel bag and sit down on your bed. 

You feel a lot bigger, sitting with bent knees in the plush duvet. You recognize that you can’t be that much bigger than when you last sat here, 18 years old, heading off to college in the big city. And this was the kind of town where neighbors a dozen houses over came to see you off, waving at you with big smiles on their faces, an american flag hoisted up to the blue sky. You remember the grins stretched on their faces, and how you’d been panicked to start the ignition on the car. They’d looked like they were made of wax.

Movement flashes in your peripheral. You turn your head, brushing hair out of the way. The movement is coming from the crack in the curtains. Like Moses parting the red sea, your fingers delicately brush the flimsy fabrics away. You know exactly what - who - you’re about to see. Your heart presses, red and wet, into your throat. 

Chan.

He’s there in the window directly across from yours. You almost don’t recognize him at first. He’s shirtless, pacing around and picking things off the floor, and, God, he’d gotten so big. His arms are so shapely and firm and his stomach is toned and when he turns his back to you, you see how it ripples with muscle, and your mouth is drooping open in shock. 

This is Chan, you try to remember (memories flit of him in his dad’s baseball caps, him on the playground, or on the sandy paths that fade out from the roads on the outskirts of town), but grounding yourself in the memories of him as a kid only serves to hurt you. No, you decide, eyeing his naked torso through the glass, better remember him like this. Like an adult who has faults and wrongs, not an innocent child that you abandon in your haste to grow up. 

He’s looking at you. Suddenly, he’s fucking looking at you. For a moment it seems like he’s confused, maybe fighting with the danger of recognizing you as a real, actual person in the window. Then his eyes are softened and he’s hunched over the paneled window, face split in half as he stares back at you. He used to fit so easily in the frame of that window - now you watch his shoulders press against the framework, unable to squeeze in. 

Your cheeks are burning when you squeeze your eyes shut and smile apologetically. Your childhood best friend who you hadn’t seen in three years had just caught you staring at his fucking abs through his window. You fear he’ll take offense, especially considering how you’d left things off with him, but when you open your eyes, he’s grinning softly and shaking his head. 

He walks away from the small window, and you take this as your cue to leave as well. You fall back on the bed and groan pathetically, body jittery with embarrassment. 

“Y/n, sweetheart! Dinner now!” your mom caws from the floor beneath you and you feel 16 again. This was what you didn’t want. All the power you had accumulated was slipping through your fingers by the minute. 

It’s just five days, you remind yourself. Just five, measly days.

“Coming, mom!”  _____________________________

The fucking bell tower is going. Over and over again and it shouldn’t be this loud, you’re not that close to the church, but it is. 

You lie flat on your back in the smoldering dark, completely still. It’s so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside your head. Like the curved, rusted sides of it are bashing against your skull. You don’t understand how anyone could sleep through this. You don’t understand how Chan could stay here all these years. Maybe that’s just because you couldn’t see yourself here.

You don’t want to think about Chan anymore, but for whatever reason - you can’t decide if it was seeing him (so manly) so suddenly, or if it’s the ever-ringing bell in the distance, like a marker of the apocalypse - he won’t leave your mind tonight. Part of you understood that what had happened with you and Chan was natural, and not particularly anyone’s fault. So why did you still carry the heavy burden of guilt? Guilt that pinched at your nerve endings like the delicate tunes in a children’s music box.

You and Chan had met as children in church. It didn’t take long for you to be best friends. You’d sit next to each other on the neatly lined benches during sermon, then you’d tumble in the grass outside, and then you’d go to his house and play until dinner, after which you’d see each other again, talking from window to window. You spent very nearly every moment with him.

Then you grew apart.

It was a slow death. Seeing each other became a sort of horrific reminder that it was ending, no longer bound by church or friendship, but a mutual understanding. There’d be a sort of solemn silence whenever you locked eyes. Is this the last time? You’d wonder, and the longer it went on, the more you started to wish that it was.

And then it was. 

It was your fault. You were 13 and suddenly you were wearing makeup and your dresses were getting shorter, and you wished you were much older than you were. You started forgetting the principles they’d taught you in church. Or maybe you’d never really learnt it, only tolerated it for Chan. But years passed and by the time you were sixteen, you were being kissed and groped at parties and you were having sex in cars and smearing your lipstick on the rims of shot glasses. 

And Chan was.. Well, Chan. Chan was a skinny, virgin christian. And you liked him, but suddenly there wasn’t much to talk about. From one day to the next, all discussable topics evaporated in your hand, and talking to Chan became a stumbling, bumbling mess. 

After that you were just…. Gone. 18 years old disappearing down the dirt roads in the 2009 Toyota Tacoma, that you’d gotten for your sweet sixteen. Chan was standing on the roadside that day, but he wasn’t sure you saw him. Your wheels kicked up dust and that was all you left behind. A cloud of sand for him to grab at, looking lost in between your tire tracks. At that moment it felt like those last years were two seconds. You just slipped right out of his hands. 

Lying in bed and your heart is so heavy. Maybe it isn’t Chan, you conclude. Maybe it’s what he represented. The face of the church; the face of goodness, of purity; the face of the life you deselected. 

The cry of the bell tower becomes a song in the night. You fall asleep in the devil’s hour. _____________________________

The following day you’re reexploring. The air is dry and the sun beating down on your shoulders. You’re walking through the suburbs and then later the small town square made up of mostly parking lots. You feel peregrine, but trudging through on the pavement, it becomes clear you’re the only one who feels this way. 

Every citizen, every single one of them - in polos, in flower-print dresses, in sandals, in sunglasses - stops you to welcome you back home. They’re shaking your shoulders and they recognize you and can tell you your name and your age, and they say that it’s good you found your way back. Every interaction leaves you more depressed than the last. You’re ducking your head, crumpled up like an unsent love letter. 

Your steps are heavy, your own sandals dragging into the uneven tiles of the square. Then you’re lifting your head from the ground, and your feet have betrayed you. 

You’re standing in the opening to another street of storefronts, and 5 rows of neatly planted trees down, the church sprouts from the earth like a stake. 

It’s not just any small town church. A few steps lead up to a plateau, supported by large, white beams. They may not be Roman, but they’re there, and they’re made of smooth concrete. The building itself is made of red brick, although the color varies and looks dappled. Each side of the church has two stained glass windows, which you remember from your childhood. The door, huge and oaken, ends in a point right beneath a round window, and the bell tower shoots up, a mighty cross at its peak. 

You’re left a little breathless at it. You don’t remember it being so menacing. But there’s also something beautiful about it. How it looks at you like it’ll kill you. And how blunt it is about it. You’re blinking at it and wondering how you got here. It’s as if something’s possessed you, because despite knowing better, you begin to take calm steps towards it, eyes transfixed and soulless. 

You’re walking into the courtyard, gravel underfoot, and then you’re traversing up the steps, fingers barely brushing over the railing. Idling forward, you’re opening the door. 

“And when Mary birthed the-” 

Crrrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak!

Every head snaps towards you, as you’re cracking the door open, and the trance lifts from you. Oh, shit. Your gaze grazes over the stacked benches, smiling apologetically and bopping your head.

You clear your throat. “I’m-” 

You lock eyes with the priest, whose service you just interrupted, where he’s standing before the crowd, bible in hand.

It’s Chan. 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, voice now much meeker, and you don’t even know what to do, so you just step inside and sit down on the nearest bench. Slowly (and with low scoffs) the sea of heads turn around. One pair of eyes don’t leave you though. Chan studies you for several seconds longer, searching for something in your eyes, but you’re looking away. You just want him to continue. He does.

This is crazy, you think, and you can hardly believe you’re hearing his voice say those words, and it’s him in the clerical shirt. You supposed it made sense. You supposed you understood. But actually you didn’t, not at all. Not when he was supposed to live and change and evolve and here he is years later, dedicating his life to the one and only thing he knows! 

You’re tuning out the rest of his talk, vaguely aware of how his eyes flit over to you a little too frequently. Soon enough you’re absently clasping your hands together in a prayer and then people are lining up to thank Chan for his stellar service. 

You watch them from your seat, debating whether or not to leave without talking to him. Leaving wasn’t a bad idea. You were only gonna be in town for a week more, surely, you could avoid him until then. 

But you know you won’t do that. You want to talk to Chan. You want to feel his hand in your own. Partially you felt like maybe you could save him from just being a decoration to this hellscape for the rest of his life. You’re not sure you could go on living your life, when you know he’s just back here - still here. 

So there you are, planted in the line and hoping to save him from some dull future, and he’s shaking hands and smiling, but you can see how he eyes you, coming up on the line. 

“Thank you, Chan,” you smile warmly, and his hand is grabbing yours and it’s so soft and so big. He’s smiling too. Then you’re coughing and correcting yourself: “Uh- Father. Chan.” 

He laughs at your sputtering, clapping your hand between his two: “Oh, thank you, sister.” Emphasizing with pursed lips and wide eyes. You laugh along a little, but it’s strained. 

His smile fades slowly, and his face relaxes. He wants to say more. His fingers are still pulling your hand to his, and you just keep shaking it, because if you stop, it’ll be weird. Officially. 

“Oh, do you two know each other?” A bobbed woman from behind you in line is purring, unfamiliar hand on your back, and she doesn’t wait for you to answer before she’s talking again: “So, how do you know each other?” 

“Childhood. Friends,” Chan stammers, almost looking at you for confirmation, and you’re nodding along when the woman “ah’s” and “ooh’s”. “Oh, that’s wonderful, you guys!” And then you’re listening to her talk about some trailer down in Cassandra, and how her brother is fixing it up with his old friend, but there’s water damage in the lining of the room, and it’ll mold if they’re not careful, and it’s such useless information, you’re wondering how you’ll ever forget it. 

“Mrs. Lark, uh, I think my,” he looks at you, lips pursed, “my friend here needs to go, so..” 

Mrs. Lark gasps, embarrassed: “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m babbling,” and usually Chan would reassure her that she wasn’t, but he has more urgent matters on his hands. “Good day, Mrs. Lark!” he says and sends her off with a bright smile. There’s a few more people in line and Chan sighs a little. 

“Can you-” he’s a little sheepish, suddenly self conscious about the clergy shirt that grips his neck, “Can you wait? Here? Just until I’m done-” 

“Yeah,” you say. He smiles gratefully. 

Chatter continues behind you with a slight echo in the large room. You wait by one of the stained glass windows, arms around yourself as you stare up at it. Each and every window was a different biblical figure, made up of small shards of colored glass. You always found it strange, looking back, how your small town church had this grand artwork. The eyes of the window peer down at you.

“Judas,” Chan comments, planting himself beside you. His voice echoes slightly in the now empty church. The whole place is both too big and too small for the both of you. “It’s an interesting choice.” 

“What?” 

“Why you chose this window over any other,” Chan breathes, eyes darting down to you, and he’s looking at you very intensely. Then, it dissipates: “I’m also drawn to this one.” 

A pause.

“I wonder why they’d make this,” you quip, feeling small beside him. “I think whoever made this wanted all sides of Jesus’ story illustrated,” Chan says. You shrug. “If it were me, I wouldn’t.” 

Chan tilts his head to the side and looks at you again. Your cheeks burn, so you smile a little cheekily. “Was that not the right thing to say?” 

Chan’s smile is gentle and bemused - almost adoring. “There’s nothing you can say in here that is wrong.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” you laugh and Chan follows along. “Oh, you don’t?” You’re both laughing together, glee filling the crevices of the holy place, while Judas eyes you from the window. Your laughter dies down again, and when the silence returns, your heart clenches nervously. There’s a beat. 

“You keep busy?” you ask and the two of you are now facing each other. He sighs and nods, looking around. “Yeah, yeah, I got a.. Like a church get-together thing in, like, two days. I’ll be.. Preaching."

“Preaching,” you repeat, smile a little too tight. You wish you could say he didn’t notice. “Big Mr. Priest..” 

He laughs: “Technically I’m a priest apprentice,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. You roll your eyes. “So humble.” 

“What about you? Keep busy?” 

“Yeah, college,” you sigh. “You done?” he asks and you shake your head. “I wish.” 

His expression softens until he’s frowning. You want to squirm under his gaze, only because he looks so sincere and worried and you haven’t seen each other in three years. “You look tired.” 

“That’s not-” you begin, covering the slight ache in your heart with a laugh, “I just- Couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I thought living in the big city had you sleeping like a rock when you got to our quiet town,” he teases with a half-smile.

You shake your head, looking upwards at the ceiling. “It was that bell tower, just ringing, all night.” You shrug. Chan’s brows furrow and he looks up as well, as if he’d be able to see it through the tile roof. 

“The…” he trails off, sounding lost, “The bell tower doesn’t ring at nig-” 

Beep! Beep!

“Shit- sorry!” you curse, when your phone goes off loudly. Chan stands still studying you, while you squint at your phone. “I think- I think I gotta go.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he coughs, index finger rubbing over his taut knuckles. You’re pushing your phone into your back pocket again, when he reaches an arm out to you. “Uh-” he pulls back self-consciously, “Would you want to-.. Maybe, come to dinner at my place? Tomorrow?” 

You’re a little taken aback, looking at him with a softly open mouth for a moment. “Uh,” you fight back a wide smile, “Yeah, sure. I’d- I’d like that.” 

“Great,” Chan smiles too and nods. “Just- just at the house right next door, or?-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s that one. Still,” Chan blushes breathlessly. You chuckle awkwardly. “Okay.” 

“Okay. See you then.”  _____________________________

You’re not sure why the prospect of having dinner with Chan has you so nervous. And it is just a dinner, you remind yourself, as you’re picking out your dress, just two friends catching up. After some 45 minute debate you pick out a pretty sundress.

You’d like to think there’s more to it than just the fact that Chan is suddenly very pretty and muscular. Maybe it’s the chance to make a wrong right. Maybe it’s to find out who this boy is, that was a key part of your life for so many years. Maybe you think you can change him.

Either way you’re just waiting for it all day, ignoring your dad trying to lure you out with trick shots from your garage. “HIYA!” he screams, throwing ping pong balls at your window all afternoon.

At 6:30 PM you’re standing at his door and hoping you don’t look too dolled up. His house also looks mostly identical to your memory of it. There’s something off about it though, and you study it momentarily, only to realize the front garden has overgrown. The grass comes up jagged and sharp, and the bushes bulge over the fence gate, brushing you when you waddle inside. You click the doorbell, wait a few seconds, and then begin to suspect that it didn’t work. Then you knock and you hear him fumbling around inside: “Coming!” 

He opens the door (with some struggle), and then you’re standing before each other. He’s so domestic, in a striped, brown sweater and dark blue jeans, and curly hair is framing his face like a crown. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He gives you a once over, smiling shyly: “You look great.” 

“Thank you,” you bow a little, “you too.” 

Then he’s letting you inside and you’re kicking off your shoes haphazardly, while he fusses back to the kitchen. “I made bolognese, if you don’t mind!” he calls and when you enter into the living space, he’s stirring a pan vigorously. You giggle a little, smile falling at the sight of a cross on the wall behind you. “Uh, yeah, of course.” 

Slurping tomato-sauced pasta and drinking a half-expensive wine that Chan had bought, you two laugh together. You mostly talk about when you were kids, then he’s talking about joining the church and you’re talking about college. 

“Is it hard? Out there?” Chan slurs a little, both of you tipsy and warm from the wine, having moved to the couch after eating. Now, full and face burning hot, you’re looking at each other differently. Chan’s got one arm on the couch rest, the other swirling the wine in his glass. He’s smirking a little and you hate how hot he is.

“It’s.. Exciting,” you counter, a little confused at his tone. He's close enough to radiate warmth onto you, when his eyes dip down to your lips for a second. “Yeah. You like exciting,” he drinks down the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the couch table. The moon, that’s been slowly traversing the star-speckled sky, gives the glass a faint halo. Chan basks in the moonlight, half lit and half shadowed. 

“I do. I do like exciting,” you giggle dumbly, still unsure where he’s steering the conversation. Chan smiles adoringly, because there you are sitting all blushing and warm in a sundress on his couch. The warmth disappears from his eyes then. 

“Was it exciting to watch me undress?” 

Oh.

Shit. 

You almost spit out a half-drunken sip of wine, gulping it down painfully and shaking your head. You set the glass down. “Chan! I’m-” you’re scrambling, “I’m really, really sorry. I- I was just- It wasn’t about your body, I was thinking about-” 

“Shut up.” 

Your mouth falls agape at his tone, offended and caught off guard. He’s still beside you, eyes much sharper than you remember, much colder. “Stop treating me like I’m still a kid.” 

“Well, you haven’t changed much, Chan,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, that’s why you were looking at me through your fucking window,” he scoffs as well, “because I haven’t changed.” 

You sit in quiet disbelief, trying to stay mad when his face is so pretty and so close to yours, and his jaw is clenched and his cheeks are flushed from the wine. You’re deciding whether to spit back or diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” 

The hand that was previously holding his glass lands on your knee. He leans in even further and you smell the sour air of wine on his breath. You shudder under his touch when he whispers: “I want you to be honest with me.” 

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, heart beating in your chest like nails being knocked into wood. “Tell me what you want from Father Chan,” he muses, smirking slightly, while his thumb brushes back and forth on your knee. 

You’re completely out of breath and squeezing your thighs together, as slick begins to build up in your panties. “Come on,” he encourages, “Let it out. Tell Channie what you want.” 

“I want,” you’re shaking in humiliation, gaze cast onto the floor, “I want you to touch me.” 

“Come again?” he teases, grinning.

“Please touch me, Chan.” 

“There you go,” he mutters and finally gives in, hand brushing the skirt of your dress up your thighs, until your white, cotton panties are visible to him. The sight of you is so pornographic, he groans and dips his head into your neck. “Spread your legs for me, baby.” 

And you do, one of them drooping over his legs, while the other bends on the couch beside you. You’re already so worked up, because Chan is so beautiful and you never, ever thought you’d experience him like this. “Shh, shh, calm down, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple, as his fingers brush over your clothed core.

“Baby,” he tuts disapprovingly, “you’ve soaked through your panties.” 

You can only whine as his fingertips ghost along your dripping slit, and he’s nosing into your cheek like a big puppy. “‘M sorry,” you hiccup, and he grins and kisses your lips tenderly. “So polite for me.” 

He finally dips his hand into your panties, fingers rubbing circles into your pussy. You’re mewling and thrashing into his chest, basking in the sound of his strangled moan, when you thrash the leg in his lap and brush over his hard cock. 

His fingers move lower to dance along your slit and you grab his wrist strenuously. He hums a little. “Gonna put my fingers in your pussy and my tongue in your mouth now,” he’s mumbling and you can’t tell if he’s telling you or himself, but either way he does as promised, two fingers plunging into your sopping wet heat, while he dips his tongue in your hot mouth.

You're moaning into his lips. He’s kissing you so sloppily, spit spilling down both of your chins, and noses rubbing together, breathing scorching air into each other. His fingers are pumping in and out of you, then curling into that sweet spongy spot inside you. 

“Fuck!” you cry when he pulls away breathlessly, “so, so, so good. Chan- Chan, fuck!”

Your orgasm is building up in your stomach, with a pleasure that is simultaneously torturous. He’s looking at you so intensely, you feel like you might unravel under his gaze. “Fuck, Channie.”

“Yeah? You feel good?” he pauses his words, still curling his fingers in and out of you. His next words are somewhat uneasy: “Is this better than those other guys?” 

“Huh?” you mumble, chest arching and his mouth is watering at how inviting it is. “Back then,” he says, and it finally clicks what he’s talking about. 

“Pussy so good no wonder they all wanted a piece of you, hm? Such a slut,” he’s rambling now, fingers plunging in and out of you impossibly fast, while his other hand splays over your stomach, thumb tapping your clit. You cry out in ecstasy, unable to form coherent words to respond with.

“But you’re my slut, right?” His voice is raspy and right next to your ear. The thumb tapping your clit begins to rub circles into it. “Y/n,” he’s suddenly very serious, “say you’re my slut.” 

“I’m-” your voice crack in humiliation, cheeks fiery and eyes squeezed shut, “I’m your slut!” 

“That’s right,” he pants, trying to stop his hips from bucking into your calf. “And my slut is gonna cum on my fucking fingers right now.” 

Your orgasm feels otherworldly - maybe godly - and your whole body shakes in his hold, chest bouncing in his face and moans melodic in his living room. Chan works you through it, finally pulling his fingers out when your hands weakly push at his own.

You’re sighing heavily with hair messy and teased, slumped back on his couch. “Holy shit,” you say, grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed. Chan is watching you with a proud smirk and a tent the size of Texas in his pants. 

A thought strikes you then, and your grin is fading and your brows are furrowing. “Wait- Wait, Chan? Where are your parents?” you ask suddenly, sitting up and straight and pulling your dress down hastily. You snap your head around self-consciously. 

“Relax! Relax!” he laughs, “They don’t live here anymore, I bought the house from them, like, six months ago.” 

Your jaw drops. You wait just a second, hoping to catch a cheeky glint in his eyes, that might tell you he’s joking. You find nothing but blackness.

“You bought the house?” 

Chan looks at you quizzically, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean, they wanted to move, you know, see new things and I.. I just. Didn’t.” 

You can hardly fucking believe your ears.

“Chan!” you cry, frustration blooming in your chest and pounding in your head. “Why did you buy the fucking house? You’re gonna spend the rest of your life paying off the fucking mortgage, and you’re never gonna get out of here!” you shout, flailing your arms at his absurdity.

Chan narrows his eyes at you. “Sorry, city girl, we don’t all wanna pack up and live in a closet space for three years-” 

“Wha- Chan, this is not about me! How can you just.. Surrender to this place?” you shout and suddenly he’s raising his voice too. “Surrender?” he repeats, spitting it back at you.

“Yeah! Jesus, even your fucking parents wanted to leave, Chan. But you’re just- You’re gonna live out the rest of your life in this shithole and be some sort of- of priest?!” 

“I can’t believe you right now,” he stands up from the couch, and you follow suit. “In what world do you have the morality to come in here and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

Your voices are echoing in the empty house, wine glasses and sauced plates standing idly on the tables nearby. Your silhouettes are confined to the large living room window, standing on either side of the moon. 

“You know what that means, Y/n,” he laughs bitterly. “No, please, tell me,” you invite him challengingly, wondering (or perhaps fearing) whether or not he’d actually go there. He prods at his cheek with his tongue, and hesitates.

“You were a fucking slut, Y/n.” His voice is quieter, maybe ashamed. Tears sting at your eyes, when you look at him incredulously. How could you think you knew this man? How could you think there was anything left to salvage? 

“Fuck you, Chan,” you spit, spinning around before the tears can fall. He says nothing, just stands alone in his living room while you dash out his door, hands wrapping around himself. 

Exiting his house into the cool, summer air, you realize one thing. The bell tower had been the call of the apocalypse.  _____________________________

You were the walls of Jericho that night, crying and tumbling in your childhood sheets, muffling your cries in the fear that he’d hear through his creaked open window. What was this pain, you couldn’t decide. Was it how he stayed steadfast or how you metamorphosed, dying only to return once again? 

In the morning, you’re dull and gray. You’re drinking coffee out of your dad’s old tourist shop mug from a visit to Niagara Falls, sitting at the dining table with puffy eyes. Your mom eyes you worriedly from the counter, leaning into your dad to whisper not-so-discreetly. 

“Sweetheart, you wanna go with us to church today? They’re having this whole event, the kids’ choir will be there!” she suggests gently and you just want to shrug off all her affection. 

“No,” you deadpan. Your mom gives your father a look. He sighs. 

“Alright, champ, that’s- that’s your choice,” he nods, mustache scrunching up when he pouts. You sigh, feeling like an asshole. “Sorry, I just-” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, you just rest!” your mom shushes you, scrambling around the kitchen, ever in the hunt for some lost appliance. “All that college must wear you out, you should rest while you can, hm?” 

They’re gone by noon. You sit in the shadowed corner of your bed, avoiding the strip of light that dances across your room from the crack in the curtain. 

You’re bored, scrolling on your phone, cheek puffed up against your pillow, when it slips out of your hands and hits the floor with a loud bump. You groan, feeling like the whole world is against you today, and throw your arm off the bed to grab at it on the floor. 

It’s halfway under the bed, and when your fingers finally remark the smooth surface, they brush against something else. It’s hard and it feels dirty. You lift your head to look and tug it out.

It’s your diary. 

Phone long forgotten, you lift it carefully, like an old relic, and push open the faded pink cover. You feel like you’re about to snap in half, when your eyes survey the graphite-smudged pages of your horrible, horrible handwriting. The pages emanate a mysterious air that has you leaning back in your seat.

You’re skimming through angst entries, that has you cringing and wanting to put it down, before you freeze suddenly, inhaling sharply at the scribbled out words before you.

‘3. august 2016

God, I miss Chan.’

The words come with the promise of stinging tears in your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you whisper angrily at the page, because you’re crying again, and you close the book and hold onto yourself so tightly that it hurts. “Fuck that. Fuck this.” 

It’s perhaps the worst feeling you’ve ever felt. It’s anger, it’s sadness, it’s humiliation, it’s confusion. How did it end like this, you think. It would be so much easier if you were kids again. If he was that dorky kid from your church, who wore his father’s baseball caps and had chubby little hands when he prayed. You can do it better, you think miserably, if you get another chance. But you don’t. 

For about fifteen minutes, you curl into yourself and wait for the feeling to go away. It doesn’t. The heavy weight of realization pools in your stomach when you realize you might carry this with you for the rest of your life if you don’t do something. It doesn’t have to end like this.

Suddenly you’re light as a feather, grabbing your jacket and your keys and sprinting out the door and down the street. The cross atop the spire watches you run to it, awaiting you ominously.  _____________________________

You’re disheveled and pulled apart when you arrive at the gathering, and for once the townspeople look at you like you’re out of place. You’re late, you know, because people are taking their leave, scattering and dissolving towards the town square, and the entertainment (the kids’ choir), all robed in white, are marching away together. 

You’re panting, stumbling further into the church garden, jumping at the sound of grills being closed and rolled away onto the pavement. 

“Y/n?” Chan can hardly believe his eyes, when he sees you standing between a bed of lilies. You turn around and see him, melting a little at how tired and sad he looks. “I can’t believe you came,” he whispers, a little sparkle of hope in his gaze. You smile fondly, “Me neither.” 

Chan moves to embrace you, but freezes when he suddenly remembers where you are. “Uh, I can’t, I have to-” he stammers, scrambling for a solution, for something better than turning you away, when you’re here, close enough for him to hold. He looks around, gaze following the churchgoers as they pass through the gates, before he’s bopping his head down to whisper to you again: “Go into the church. I’ll be with you in a second.” 

You walk through that heavy, wooden door, and when it closes behind you the scrambling of metal and people and footsteps and crying children is gone. With the door, you’re sealed in here, with whatever fate follows.

All the light in the church is filtering through the stained glass windows, and once again you find yourself drawn to him. Judas. 

Part of you would expect such an artwork to depict Judas as greedy and grim, as glutinous and gloomy; that he would be hunched over with a pouch of shillings, giggling at his evildoing. But the Judas in the window is so.. Sad. 

He’s blue and gray and his eyebrows are upturned and for the life of you, you can’t figure out how the unknown artist must have managed to portray such despair in glass. You stand in the middle of his reflection on the floor, all blue and gray yourself, and you’re not sure it’s really because of the light.

That’s all the church inhabits at that moment. You and Judas, and your shallow breaths, and the stirring of dust in the air. There’s nothing holy in there with you. Just you and him.

You hear the door open to your right. You know it’s Chan, somehow you can just feel it. He must sense something in the air, because he says nothing, just walks up to stand beside you, and only then do you speak again.

“I always felt a bit like Judas,” you muster a breath.

Chan pauses and you can feel him looking at you. “Me too.” 

You furrow your brows, and finally look up at him, and there he is in his clerical shirt and his matching pants, his right cheek glowing bright blue. The whole room is so heavy, you lean against the bench behind you. 

“That’s not.. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

Chan doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He understands. “God made it that way,” he’s nodding with a pained expression on his face, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. You laugh a little and hate how much love you feel, when Chan half-smiles at the sound.

“God.. Yeah,” you half-gesture to the sky and Chan giggles. Then you’re both quieting down again. “I can’t tell if it was you or God I turned my back on,” you say and you’re looking at Judas again, and how one, jagged hand holds onto his chest.

“Maybe it was both,” Chan says and there’s this unreadable expression on his face. You’re laughing again, cheeks apple-round. “I’m pretty sure it’s blasphemous to compare yourself to God.” 

“Yeah?” he laughs, “I think so too.” You’re looking at him again when he’s gulping hard and the joy drains from his face. A small frown curve his lips. “I’m sorry about yesterday, you know.” You look away.

“Me too,” you say. Chan can’t help the way his heart leaps when, without sparing him a glance, you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it. He squeezes back.

He gasps painfully and when you turn to him again, he’s choking back tears, face turning red. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I just wish… Fuck, I mean, we’re too different, aren’t we?” 

You nod. “We are.” 

“When are you leaving?” 

You smile disingenuously, hoping it’ll cheer him up. It doesn’t.

“Tomorrow.” 

Chan is crying, there’s no denying it now, no chalking it up to sniffles. Tears, turning yellow from the sun behind Judas’ back, trail down his cheeks and he wipes them aggressively, but they just keep coming. Deep, despaired moans bounce off the ceiling and walls of the church.

“Can I-?” Chan begins, unable to form words between his heart-rattling sobs. “I just- I need to-” 

“Yes,” you say, and there’s not a single doubt in your mind, that this is what you both want, as you take a step forward and pull his lips into yours. 

Chan’s lips taste like every color of Judas, of blue, of yellow, of gray, of green. Salt hits your tongue when his tears trail down to where you’re connected, and he’s still crying into the kiss, hands finding your waist and clutching so, so hard. 

“Please don’t cry,” you whisper in between kisses, “you’re gonna make me cry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t stop. He’s too caught up in memorizing the way your body feels under his hands, the way you’re moving against him, the way you’re pulling him by the collar of his clerical shirt, and how your nose feels shoved into his. 

His warm hands slide your shirt upwards, burning against your newly exposed skin. You pull away only to tug it over your head. Chan whimpers when he sees your chest, cupped by your bra and he pulls you into his chest to unhook the back, head looming over your shoulder. Ear pressed to his neck, you can feel the way it contracts, when he hiccups. 

As soon as he’s done, straps sliding gently down your arms, you’re pouncing on each other again, lips meeting rhythmically in the blued sunlight. Blindly, you’re unbuttoning his clerical shirt, fingers shaking against his chest. His hands clasp over yours soothingly, urging you to slow down. 

The whole ordeal is strangely silent, even Chan has stopped crying now, and the only sounds filling the church are the brush of fabric and your muffled moans into each other’s mouths. You’re whining though, when his shirt finally pushes off his shoulders and his torso is right in front of you and under your hands. 

You whimper at the sight alone, running your hands over his arms and over his chest down to his abs. Chan smirks at you. “I knew you liked it,” he mumbles to himself, almost childishly. 

This comment slows you down, as you’re pulling back to laugh, and you’re both shirtless in front of each other, hearts huge and glowing. Chan smiles at you adoringly while you laugh, face scrunched up and eyes crescents. 

“You can’t say that when I’m trying to fuck you,” you say finally, hair a mess on your head and lips pursed to keep yourself from laughing again. Chan loves your dumb face. He takes your hands in his and rubs the palms with his thumbs. “I know.” 

“Can I-?”

“Yes,” you whisper, agreeing before he can even get it out. Chan nods and holds you, gently guiding you onto the floor, where your entire body is marbled by the light hitting the glass. Chan stands over you for a moment. 

“You’re just gonna stare at me?” you joke, but your arms are sneaking their way up your torso. “Yeah,” Chan responds, but he’s already kneeling down in front of you, moving your arms away. 

“You are so beautiful,” he says it as if it almost pains him, but he’s straddling you and fumbling with your jean-buttons, beginning the tedious task of peeling them off your legs. You want to say something snarky, but he has you breathless and blushing, all you can muster is a meek: “Thank you.” 

He looks up from his work on your jeans at that, smiling at you fondly. 

You kick your jeans off your legs, while he begins to undo the buckle of his own pants, shoving them down his legs at the first opportunity. You’re both almost naked, you in your panties and him in his boxers, and you’re wondering why he’s showing no signs of moving them off you, dick hard and scorching fucking hot against your clothed core. Then he plants his arms on either side of your head, and rolls his hips into yours.

The moan you let out is coming from deep in your fucking soul. Only something godly could pull that out, you decide, sopping fucking wet from the star-like heat it has against you. “You sound so pretty,” he whimpers and does it again. Then again and again and again, and you’re arching your back and the both of you are moaning and groaning, filling the church with humidity. 

“Chan,” you muster, sounding on the verge of tears. His head is lowered onto your breasts, panting hard into the impossibly soft skin. “I-Inside. Now.” 

Chan wants to say something sexy, but he’s so desperate for you, that all he can manage is: “I agree.” 

He’s scrambling wildly to tear his boxers off and you do the same, lifting your hips to remove your drenched panties from your core. When you’re left bare, he lets out a choked moan, because immediately your hole clenching and gushing slick onto the tiled floor. The church floor, no less. 

“So fucking beautiful, and mine. Belongs to me,” he babbles, eyes wounded, but fingers spreading your folds open, as he lowers his head to remark on them. You mewl, fingers clawing at his shoulders. “Miss you,” you squall and he looks up at your face again. “Okay,” he responds, body moving back up to your face. Then he mutters against your lips: “Miss you too.” 

He’s kissing you again, so warm and wet in your mouth and humming into you. You claw at his back and whine wildly, when his hand steers his dick through your folds, lubricating itself in your plentiful wetness. 

He pulls away and you chase after him with sorrowful eyes. “I need to see your face when I push in,” he explains very sincerely, and you somehow understand that, yes, he needs to see it. You nod.

Then he’s pushing into you. He bursts through your gates, all thick and veiny and totally raw against the walls of your pussy. He’s slow, studying your face tenderly for any signs of discomfort, even when he grimaces from the euphoric feeling. And God, your face is so perfect, all scrunched up and twisted in pleasure, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. He will remember it forever.

He’s rocking in and out of you, and it’s slow, and it’s love, and it’s mature, and you’re moaning simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, as he fucks you into the floor. 

“Are you close, darling?” he pants against your cheek and you nod, because you are. Because it feels like your body has been working its way up to this final point, and every other milestone has just been a hillpeak on the way to a mountain. “Yes, yes, yes, I am.” 

“Good, so good for me,” he’s speeding up just a little bit, working the two of you closer and gaining leverage from his bruising grip on your hips. Your hand slides up his neck, from where he’s nuzzled into the side of your nose, and you whisper breathlessly in his ear: “Please cum inside, please, please.” 

And Chan’s head spins at that, thrusting so hard you’re entire body jerks. You, all filled with his kids, all soft and big stomached. The thought has his thrusts - now quite swift - becoming sloppy and has him spurting cum. You come at the feeling of him spurting inside you, spluttering you full of white seed, so much that it’s spilling out at the base of his cock. 

You’re both stilling, bodies expanding eagerly for air, and he’s still so close to you, still inside you, still buried in your hair, nose huffing breaths into your ear. The church is so painfully quiet, you begin to hear your own heartbeat. This was it. This was the narrow end. There was no other way. 

Lying your head on the tile and tilting it, so your eyes dance over the floor beneath you, you realize that Judas is no longer the artwork, no longer the masterpiece: It’s you and Chan on the floor, arching into each other and bathed in his light. To an unknowing outsider, the expressions you carry would also seem misplaced, just like Judas had to you. But you both know, still clinging onto each other like angels that flutter from the sky and into hell, that it was because of the end you had ensured for each other.

“I love you.” 

Chan whispers the words into your neck, voice thick. You realize he’s crying again, because you feel burning hot tears dribble down your neck, and his shoulders are shaking. You curl your arms around him.

“I know. I’m sorry. I love you too.”