#this one took me a few days but only because i kept getting distracted and taking breaks every ten minutes

[hexadopamine]

just a lineless sketch dump :P

[moonlight-records]

Hole in one | LH44 & LN4

pairing: LH44 x Reader x LN4

summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on a rarely non-busy day but your mind has other ideas seeing how hot your boyfriends are. luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today--

warning: age gap between lewis & partners, semi-threesome, dom/sub dynamics, mention of eating out, mention of sex, mention of overstimulation, semi-free use(?), cockwarming, blowjob, semi-public exhibitionism (aka car sex), mmf threesome sorta???, edging, facial, mention of medication.

fc: none!

a/n: I KNOW THE TITLE IS CHEESY. DOES IT MAKE SENSE?? IDK AND IDC. It's late and i used my brain power for the smut--don't look at me

wc: 4.1K

God, you were certain you were going to go straight to hell. Poor boys just wanted a nice bonding day and you were imagining their hands helping you get out of this golfing outfit.

The thought crossed your mind glancing between the two Brits who were currently standing by the golf tee happily talking while you looked between the two trying to figure out which one you wanted to take first.

First, Lando was in those black golf shorts and that stupid black wife beater. You had so much to look at that you didn’t where you wanted to focus on first. Between the vein that pops out of his neck when he swings to his hands that gripped the gold club the way you wish he would grip your hair to his muscles just on full display along with a gorgeous tan that would look so much better with marks from you. Your eyes kept linger up to that curly mullet he had just gotten and you wet your lips because damn it. That mullet was just coaxing you to run your fingers through and grab and yank. Maybe you could get a hold of that chain and—

There was some laughter as a darker male nudged Lando with his shoulder. Lewis was the polar opposite of Lando.

While Lando looked like he had just rolled out of bed ten minutes before his ride came, Lewis was dressed like he was always on the golf course. A cream (you think it’s cream anyway) woven short sleeve polo and green golfing pants. The pants fit Lewis in a way that you could clearly see a little bit more than typically bargained before. You learned that the hard way by hole 3 when you realized Lewis did not have his hands in his pocket and now at hole 11, you were disrespectfully staring at any chance you got. When you couldn’t, you took to staring at all the different tattoos that you could see on his arms and watching his muscles. What you wouldn’t give for those damn tatted biceps putting your head in a headlock.

God, what do people call this duo?

Pairs??

You squint when the rare sunlight is suddenly in your eyes before a figure steps to the side slightly to give you shade. The gentle swipe of a thumb across your bottom lip snaps you back into reality.

“Something distracting you, love?”

Your face flushes almost immediately when Lando speaks to you. You avert your eyes while clearing your throat before letting out a soft noise of surprise when Lando lets his hand slip just underneath your jaw and forces your head up just an inch higher. You look back at him and blink because wow. The guys were right. You really did just need a few touches from either of them to turn into a mess.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmurs while leaning down, “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Yeah..”

“You haven’t answered me. You know I don’t like repeating myself but you are just too cute like this so I’ll ask one more time. Is there something distracting you, love?”

“Oh!” You start, “Oh no—not really—” you ramble out and sit up a bit straighter when Lando sits next to you in the golf cart, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as his hand moves back to his chin, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, “just thinking about…things,” you murmur while nodding, more so trying to convince yourself then Lando, “that’s all.”

“What were you thinking about?” He smirks.

You squirm slightly under his gaze while glancing at Lando before letting your gaze drift around. Nobody else was around, which wasn’t a surprise considering you and your boyfriends decided to go golfing only an hour after the rain stopped even though the clouds still hung around, the sun was coming out. At least Lewis was kind enough to tip the workers very well as a thank you. Speaking of, your gaze lands on Lewis who is still by the golf tee, texting someone intensely which means Lewis is distracted.

Glancing back, you’re met with sea green eyes that meet your gaze. There’s a dark fire burning in them that you know screams lustful trouble. You knew better than to give into this temptation. You were in public for christ sake and the last thing you wanted was to get in trouble but you’ve been dying to get your hands on his mullet and it’s right here.

Trouble be damned, you slide closer to Lando, letting a hand make its way around his neck and you start to run your fingers carefully through his curly mullet. You gently scratch his neck as Lando rests his head on your shoulder. You gasp silently when warm lips brush against your neck teasingly. You bite your bottom lip harshly feeling Lando nip at your neck to stay quiet as you press your thighs together. You yank his hair slightly feeling his hand slide between your thighs.

“Lando,” You murmur as a warning trying to close your legs.

“Shhh,” Lando murmurs in your ear. You shiver hearing that stupid smirk in his words as a finger traces the waistband of your skirt on your skin shifting so one of his legs caught yours and forced your legs open for him. You whine softly as his hand starts to slip under the waistband.

You gasp when Lando’s head is yanked back and your eyes flick up to Lewis, standing behind Lando while holding his head back to look up at the older Brit. Lewis is looking down at Lando before his gaze finally makes it over to you and he raises a brow, “what do we have, here?” Lewis asks.

You stare at the older male then at Lando because you have two options. You can either go down with the ship or save yourself. Typically, you’d probably go down with Lando but you were still recovering from two nights ago when you and Lando decided to send Lewis some rather risky photos while he was at the factory. The memory of being being sat in Lewis lap having orgasm after orgasm from Lando, who was on his knee for that entire time eating you out and that was about a good…two hours before Lewis had showed you some mercy by letting you lay on the couch while Lewis had Lando bent over the coffee table an apologizing mess.

“I tried to warn him.” You admit to Lewis.

“Y/N!” Lando manages before he groans slightly when Lewis tugs his hair a bit more while Lewis leans over him, "Sorry,” Lando breaths out.

Lewis shakes his head while looking down at him, “you just love to cause trouble don’t you, you fucking brat,” Lewis smirks at Lando’s feigned innocent smile. He looks at you and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up. “Meanwhile, Y/N over here is being such a little angel for me.”

“She is not,” Lando breathes out, “She was enjoying it more than what she’s leading on.”

Lewis hums softly and thinks it over, “Well, I’m not too sure about that. I did interrupt before anything fun could happen, but.” Lewis leans down, “it seems that out of the two of you, you typically are the one that initiates trouble and y/n has such a pure heart to not let you get punished on your own. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You bit your bottom lip gently while nodding in agreement, “That’s right.”

“See? She’s so kind,” Lewis praises as he leans over to give you a peck, “unlike a certain brat.”

“Well, someone has to keep things lively,” Lando muses, “Besides I never hear either of you complain.”

“You’re right, we don’t complain,” Lewis starts, “we love it very much but sometimes, we just want an easy and I just want you to behave for me. Like today, it was supposed to be an easy day with golfing and cuddling but now I have to punish you for misbehaving.” Lewis shakes his head softly, “what am I going to do with you?” Lewis hums looking between the two of you and grins, “I know exactly what to do.”

It was a miracle that the golf cart made it back to its area in one piece. Even though it only went up to 20 miles per hour Lewis made it feel like it was going much faster with how determined he was to get the three of you off the course after telling Lewis your idea. Lando was growing more excitedly anxious while you sat between the two of them, curious to see what is suppose to happen.Lewis had given you the keys to the Mercedes, telling you and Lando to head over early as he wrapped up and you happily obliged with Lando giving Lewis a mock salute and following.

“Lando,” you start when you two are close to the car when Lando is pressing against your back, kissing his neck. Lando murmurs something into your skin as you tilt your head to give Lando better access as you unlock the car. You get the back door open before you yelp when Lando gives a sharp slap to your ass, whipping around, “Lando!”

“What?” He feigns innocence as he pulls you close by your hips. He lets his hands travel down to your ass to gently rub soothing circles where he slapped before grabbing your ass, “Am I supposed to just stare? Can’t touch it now?”

You giggle softly while wrapping your arms around his neck. You let Lando back you up to the car as you hum softly, “I suppose that wouldn’t be fair.”

Lando grins before leaning down and catching your lips in a kiss. You let a hand find its way back into the mullet as Lando tilts your head, deepening the kiss. You moan softly which gives Lando a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He stumbles you backwards, breaking the kiss to help you into the back seat before climbing in after you. He shuts the door but something stops it and Lando whips his head around to see Lewis holding the door handle. “Oh,” he says breathlessly and laughs, “Lew. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Lewis chuckles sheepishly, “didn’t have the heart to interrupt the show.”

You giggle softly while scooting over so Lewis could climb in. Once he was in, you comfortably sat back in your corner watching Lewis pull Lando into a searing kiss by the back of his neck. You fanned yourself watching because it should not be as hot as it was watching Lando just crumble under Lewis’ touch slowly but surely. When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, you didn’t even want to join in. You were much happier just sitting in your corner watching Lando turn into a mess as the curly hair driver was now straddling Lewis, kissing and nipping at his neck for more attention.

You lock eyes with Lewis and he just nods his head slightly. You immediately crawl over and Lando lets out a huff when Lewis shifts him to straddle one thigh while you straddle the other. You’re cupping Lewis’ face and kissing him stupid. You pull back before slinking off of Lewis thigh.

You and Lewis work together to get into position. Lewis manages to turn Lando before having him sit in Lewis' lap. While Lewis pulls Lando’s into another kiss, you move yourself to the floor. It’s a bit tighter than you anticipated but you made it work. You glance up, seeing Lando’s with his head back on Lewis shoulder gasping and whining. Lewis was murmuring in his ear while one hand was up Lando’s shirt playing with his nipples while the other was loosely messing with Lando’s belt. He glances down when you gently push Lewis’ hand away from Lando’s belt before undoing it.

You stick your tongue out as you fiddle with the belt while Lando squirms above. You huff before smacking his inner thigh gently causing him to yelp out of shock, “stop moving!” You tell him as you get the belt undone before undoing Lando’s shorts.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You ask.

“Could you do me a big favor?” Lewis asks, “could you go into the glove compartment and grab me the travel lube? Please?”

“Of course!” You take a hot minute to turn so your back is to your boyfriends and lean over the counsel and just get the glove compartment open. You shift to lean a bit more as you dig through, listening to the sound of kisses and soft gasps and whines. “Oh, was someone eager?” You hear Lewis behind you, “Was a good enough boy to at least your butt plug.” You put your lips together tightly as if you were eating a lemon to keep from laughing out loud as Lando just murmurs something before he groans out in pleasure before he tries to quiet himself.

“Found it!” You announce happily as you lean back offering the travel lube to Lewis. The second that it’s out of your hand you’re leaning forward to close the glove compartment while behind you Lewis and Lando shuffled around before Lando . When you turn around, Lando is now sitting in Lewis’ lap. He was panting slightly his back against Lewis chest, shorts and boxers now pulled down, face flushed.

“Ah, there we go,” Lewis purrs while hooking his chin on Lando’s shoulder. You watch Lewis’s hands moving down to stroke Lando’s cock, making you kneel right there as he does so, “You’re very pretty as a brat,” Lewis whispers but besides Lando’s gasps and whines, you can hear Lewis, “but you’re much prettier when you’re like this.” Lando manages out a breathless “Yes sir,” while gripping Lewis’ arm like a lifeline.

Lewis drags his teeth against Lando’s neck, finally biting a mark on his pretty skin (which you’re jealous of since you’ve been wanting to do that all day) but you’re getting more flustered while looking semi-embarrassed, turning as red as Ferrari’s suit and ducking your head. But Lewis is quick to snap his fingers and motions for you to rest his head against Lando's bare thigh while he works. You hesitate but do what is asked with Lewis praising you, "just keep looking here baby. Don't look away from how pretty Lando's being for you,” and Lewis goes back to working Lando up. "See? Look at how well behaved Y/N is? You see what happens when you behave? You get rewarded. We should probably do something to reward her...right?"

You watch Lando swallow a strangle cry probably because the three of you were in a mainly empty parking lot and currently doing—this. You see Lewis use his free hand to slip up Lando’s shirt to grab his chin, forcing the younger Brit to look at him, “Well? Do you think Y/N deserves a reward?” “I—mm yeah,” Lando manages out, “but I thought—”

“Oh trust me. I didn’t forget about you.” Lewis grins and kisses him, “you are going to sit here on my cock so pretty for me while Y/N enjoys her reward and let us just use you how we see fit, is that okay?” Grabbing his jaw a bit harsher, “and the only time you can cum is when I decide. Understood?”

Lando whines but nods. “I—yes sir,” Lando says softly while digging his nails a bit more into Lewis' skin, “I understand.” Lewis hisses feeling Lando digging into his arm. In return, Lewis leans down to nip at Lando’s neck, leaving another mark while rolling his hips up. Lando arches his back and moans loudly, squirming slightly. “Oh fuck—”

Lando completely ignores the reaction he pulls from the younger driver while using his free hand to brush your cheek. He shifts a little further forward and ushers you up. "Come on, you’ve earned a reward for being so good and not following this brat’s lead for trouble. Go on," He urges, nodding his head before you get the picture. You look up at Lewis and Lando before adjusting your kneeling position the best you can.Then you duck your head and wrap your lips around Lando’s cock, replacing Lewis’ hand. Immediately, you hollow your cheeks out when you start sucking the other off.

“Such good sweethearts, both of you,” Lewis says above directed at both of you. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and neck as your lips stretch over the girth of Lando’s cock. It earns a strangled cry from Lando as Lewis speaks. "Fuck you two are just too pretty," he moans, rolling his hips up into Lando, earning another gasp and moan as Lando bucks his hips forward slightly. It causes you to choke on Lando briefly and when you pull back, there's a string of spit connecting your lips to Lando still. “Oh are you okay sweetheart?” Lewis purrs softly, “Lando isn’t being rude, right?”

“No, no he’s not being rude. Just, surprised was all,” you admit.

“Well, why don’t you take a bit of a break?”

You blink and nod slightly as you lean back, panting softly. You press your thighs together when you’re reminded just how strong these drivers are as you watch Lewis grab Lando’s hips hard enough to lease bruises before Lewis is practically using Lando as a toy. You watch Lewis manage to pick Lando up before slamming him down. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he grips onto Lewis, doing exactly what he was told. Sitting there, looking pretty, and letting you two use him however you two saw fit.

Really this shouldn't be turning you on as much as it is, but it is. Lewis is really hot when he gets all commanding like this, switching off from fucking Lando senseless to you sucking Lando off while Lando is being pampered and gets the praises he deserves and looks so sexy as he’s begging Lewis to show him any mercy and - you stick your tongue on the underside the younger drivers's cock, swallowing him down even more, some of your hair falling in your face when Lewis gently guides your head back dow. You know that your jaw is probably going to be sore tomorrow and you probably won’t be able to get in this car for a bit without getting flustered but you do not care right now when your boyfriends are being this hot right now.

"Look at her, Lan," Lewis breathes when he sees you giving into the job, "look at how much she's loving this,” you glance up seeing Lewis pampering Lando in kisses. Lando was breathing heavily, face and chest flushed. Hair stuck to his forehead from sweat while his cheeks were slick with both sweat and tears. His eyes are slightly red and glassy but he seems so gone in subspace. Lando almost sobs when you deep throat him, burying his face in Lewis neck as his hands fly to your hair to find purchase, holding onto your hair as you start bobbing your head again, randomly deep throating him to keep things interesting.

Pulling off, you pant while looking up, biting your bottom lip as you smile when Lewis strokes your cheek, “Oh, what a good little slut for you’re being - and only for us.” Lewis starts, “You think it’s time for Lando to have mercy?” You look your other boyfriend over and nod. “Okay. Well, how do you want him? Down your throat or all over your face? Tell me what you want."

Your brain short circuits because you swore that Lewis was going to make this decision, not you. This feels like a big decision and you aren’t really sure what to pick as you squirm in your spot, “I—um,” you start before Lewis is grabbing your hair and guiding you to look up at him a bit harshly, "Y/N," Lewis warns, "you have to use your words. Or we will stop and I will fuck Lando silly in the backseat and neither of you will get off. You understand me, don’t you? Tell me what you want."

You let your mouth fall open before closing your mouth and swallowing the lump in your throat. As much as you would love to see your boyfriends have sex, the idea of not getting off was the only thing that made the idea slightly unappealing. This was your reward so you found it a bit rude that you were now in the position where you couldn’t properly enjoy it. “I k—I understand sir,” you correct yourself swiftly, “I—” might as well go big since you’re already here giving a blowjob in a car, “I want Lando to come on my face, please.”

“Such a pretty slut,” Lewis whispers to you while gently pulling you up closer to him. You shift before he pulls you in into a kiss so searing that neither of you remember how long it lasts but he knows when it's done, he has both you and him gasping for air. “Whatever our princess wants is what she gets. He murmurs, “Now why don’t you sit back.” You nod quickly as you sit back. Lewis makes Lando look and he groans seeing the state you were in and you could only imagine how you looked. Lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. Lando tries to look away but Lewis catches his chin and forces him to look while his other hand replaces your lips and starts to stroke Land again. "Come on baby," he goads, moving them closer, angling them so his cock is pointed right at your face. "Give her what she wants. Paint his pretty whore face," he growls, the slick making an obscene noise. "Y/N, open your fucking mouth and stick our your tongue," he commands, voice rough. Your eyes widen for a second but you also follow that command, hands resting on Lando's knees and opening his mouth, waiting patiently. "See love?" Lewis whispers, pressing his lips to Lando's temple. "See how good she's being? Now be good for us and come over Y/N's face, yeah? Paint it for us."

Lando is so overstimulated between Y/N and Lewis that he can’t even remember his own name right now. He whines loudly when Lewis shifts slightly to kiss Y/N, feeling Lewis shift inside him and god if he didn’t get to finish soon, he was going to become the worst possible person for Lewis to handle. He groans loudly, melting into Lewis chest while jerking his hips into Lewis hand, eyes closed and head tipped back. He forces his head up to look at you and he lets out a strangled noise because oh fuck. You should not look this gorgeous right now with your tongue out and eyes on him. "Uh huh," Lando manages because it’s all he can muster.

There’s no warning. No heads up. Not even a single noise. Lando’s orgasm hits him hard and fast and unsuspectingly that Lando just lets his mouth fall open silently as he arches his back, legs shaking, and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Lewis is murmuring praises while running his free hand through Lando’s hair while you get a second to close your eyes because the last thing you want is seamen in the eye. You open your eyes when Lewis gently coaxes you to. Both Lando and Lewis moan softly seeing the absolute mess Lando made of your face. You blush slightly before you close your mouth and swallow whatever made it onto your tongue before sticking your tongue out again.

“Such a good princess for us,” Lewis praises, “did you enjoy your reward?”

“I did.”

“Did someone learn why they need to behave?” Lewis asks.

Lando hums while slumped against Lewis' chest, “yeah,” he murmurs, “I did. Not going to change anything.”

“We wouldn’t want it any other way,” you giggle and Lewis laughs.

“Okay baby,” Lewis rubs Lando’s back, “think you’d be good sitting for a bit while Y/N and I finish up?”

Lando groans softly and whines, “noooo,” he starts. “Just–five minutes?” Lando asks.

You sit next to Lewis and giggles softly while kissing Lando’s other temple, “sure baby. I can wait five minutes. I’m not in a rush. Babe?”

“I can manage waiting five minutes,” Lewis smiles as you and Lewis happily smother Lando into kisses. That is until Lando becomes a bit more coherent and stupidly says, 

“You know this is the first time I lasted more than 10 minutes off my meds…oh my god. It’s like–a hole in one–”

“BOOOOOO.”

“Lando, that was horrible–”

“GOD FORBID I SPEAK THE TRUTH–”

[thebutchersbitch]

Sorry if this goes against what you write I couldn't find like a request dos and don't thingy lol but I would love if you wrote about a reader who has to get chained up or locked up every night before they go to sleep because cooper cant trust you won't run away, but one day the restraints are loose or not locked (maybe he does it on purpose to test you) and you decide to stay put because you love him and then he rewards you 🫣

This story can be read alone or as Part Two of this one!! 😊

18+ only

Daddy kink/DDLG | Stockholm Syndrome | Breeding kink | Reader was kidnapped by Cooper months ago, taken from her home and husband, but has forgotten her former life entirely while under Cooper’s manipulation and control

Cooper’s jaw was tense as he pulled out of the driveway. He’d made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret. The consequences of the test he was currently giving you could be lethal to his entire world…and yet, he needed to test your loyalty to him. It wasn’t enough for Cooper to hear you profess with words your love for him. Words alone meant nothing; as a skilled liar, Cooper knew this all too well. He needed real, irrefutable proof that even when given the choice of escape, you’d still be waiting for him when he returned to the safe house.

It’s why he’d left the keys to your cuffs on the table at your side of the bed, where you could easily reach them. If he returned to the house that afternoon on his lunch break and you were still there…then at last, Cooper would have his answer. If however, you’d used the opportunity to escape, then his entire life would be in your hands. Either way, Cooper had to know what would happen if he tested you. He sighed deeply through his nose, lips pressed into a stern, flat line. He looked back at the house one last time before leaving, hoping his instincts about his little girl’s loyalty to him would prove correct…

The hours at the fire station passed by easily enough. When lunch time arrived, Cooper made an excuse to the men working under him about needing an extended break. Family stuff, he lied explained. Really, he needed to go check on his girl.

He packed up his lunch and brought it to the car with him. Cooper drove the few miles from the station to the safe house he kept you in, listening to a local news and weather report on the radio, taking a few distracted bites of his sandwich on the way.

When you heard Cooper’s car come to a stop outside the house, your heart rate kicked up a notch. The handcuffs he’d left you in were now sitting with the keys on your nightstand beside you. Unaware that you were being tested, you’d taken advantage of Cooper’s ‘mistake,’ in leaving the keys within your reach. This will finally prove it to him, you thought. Cooper would see that even with the ability to leave him, you’d choose to stay.

Cooper entered the house downstairs, listening. It was quiet…too quiet. Perhaps you were sleeping, Cooper wondered. Apprehension built within him as his fears you’d escaped multiplied. He passed the stairs quickly, his steps heavy down the carpeted hall that led to the bedroom. You smiled when Cooper’s boots became visible in the crack under the door. He seemed to pause, inhaling a deep breath before pulling back the door. Met with the sight of you sitting on the bed, Cooper felt a sense of peace sink over him. He swallowed the lump of nerves that had been building in his throat, leaning inside the doorway, smiling at his girl. “Hi baby,” he said, and in spite of hearing Cooper’s voice nearly every day for the past ten months, your cheeks still warmed bashfully.

He looked so goddamn handsome, so big, illuminated in the doorway with the hallway light behind him.

Cooper looked at the table beside you, and then your wrist. His test had been successful. You’d proven yourself just as beautifully broken as Cooper hoped you were. He’d never been more proud of his little girl.

“I took the cuffs off,” you said, a little worried. “I hope you’re not mad at me, Daddy.” Cooper shook his head.

“Far from it,” he replied softly. Cooper didn’t hesitate a second longer before taking three quick strides to the bed, and climbing on top of you. Your legs parted instinctively for him, the soft outline of your pussy puffy and warm as Cooper rubbed himself against you.

His kisses on your neck were tender, grateful. He needed this, even more than he’d thought. The knowledge that you were truly his had Cooper’s mind spinning in the best way, his body flooded with adrenaline and happiness. His cock was already stiff against your cunt; he reached between your bodies and undid his jeans, relieving some of the pressure. Cooper’s kisses traveled lower, between your breasts and down your belly. When his tongue traced the outline of your bellybutton, a little giggle shivered out of you. The giggle was quickly silenced and exchanged for a whimper when Cooper’s mouth latched over your pussy.

Any remaining tension in his mind melted away into the moist heat of your cunt. Cooper couldn’t think straight when his face was between your legs, your fingers tugging at his hair, his tongue buried in the soft folds of your pussy. All he could focus on was your sweet taste, the slick smearing across his cheeks as he nuzzled your folds. You rotated your hips side to side, seeking the end of Cooper’s nose to rub your clit against. He sucked fat, wet kisses onto your pussy, a filthy squelch following each.

His shoulders were nestled between your thighs, his chest and belly against the bed as he ate you. Cooper’s arms hooked around your upper legs, his fingers laced together on top of your belly, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away from him no matter how hard you came. Pearly liquid oozed from your pussy in between Cooper’s lips, his mouth sealing over your cunt and lightly sucking. The pulsing pressure made your legs twitch, prompting Cooper to lock his arms even tighter across your belly, a proud smirk finding his lips as he realized how close you were.

“So good for me, baby,” Cooper hummed against your pussy, his words interspersed with little kisses and sucks. “Such a good little pussy…all pretty and puffy, just begging for Daddy to kiss it…” He spanked his palm lightly against your cunt, watching your pussy flinch and your tiny hole pucker.

Making you come was what Cooper lived for in this moment. Any time his face was between your legs, your pleasure was all that mattered to him, now more than ever. You’d done so well, proved yourself loyal to him in the most definitive way possible. You needed to be rewarded, to be shown exactly how much Cooper appreciated knowing that his little girl was truly, unquestionably his. Nothing existed beyond the space where Cooper’s face was nestled, his eyes closed in a drug-like satisfaction, your warm thighs acting as earmuffs to seal away the world around him.

Cooper ate you for an hour straight, without a single pause to rest his jaw or tongue. Your ass was sitting in a little puddle of your own juices by the time he was finished. He reached for his phone, pulling it from his pocket with slippery fingers. He cursed when he saw the time. “Have to get back,” he murmured, returning his phone to his pocket, popping his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Cooper kissed your belly and lifted himself off the bed, stuffing his cock back in his jeans.

He slicked back his hair, wiping his wet chin on his sleeve. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you told him in a small voice. Cooper nodded as he gently pulled your panties back up. “I know angel,” he said. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.” He winked up at you. “Promise.” Cooper reminded you to eat the lunch he’d brought you from the station, and to get plenty of rest while he was gone. You’d need it for tomorrow, he said. “Because tomorrow,” Cooper explained. “When Daddy gets home, he’s gonna put his dick where his tongue was for the past hour.” Cooper’s tone was darker, a sincerity in his voice that was thick with lust. “And I’m not gonna stop,” he continued. “Till I’ve put a baby inside you.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “Yeah,” Cooper nodded, sensing your confusion. “You’re going to make me a real daddy again, angel.” He leaned closer and cupped your cheek tenderly. “I know that I can trust you now,” Cooper said, an affectionate grin on his lips. “You won’t leave me. That means I can trust you to carry my children.” He sat down on the bed beside you. “Rachel is…” Cooper paused. “She won’t give me anymore kids. It’s fine, it’s her choice, but-.” Cooper sighed. “I want more. You’ll give them to me.” You felt a little dizzy, not just from coming so hard for an hour straight. Cooper’s plans for you had caught you off guard.

“Isn’t that right honey?” Cooper asked, but he wasn’t really asking at all. “You’ll make me a daddy as many times as I want, won’t you?” You nodded slowly, absorbing Cooper’s words. “We’ll deliver the babies here,” Cooper continued, matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry about safety-I’ll make sure it’s safe. I have the training. I can deliver our babies right here-.” Cooper patted the bed, a confident smile on his face. “Firefighters are trained to deliver babies on the job if necessary.” His voice was cheerful. “Did you know that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head ‘no,’ still processing Cooper’s plans for you. He rose from the bed once again, sighing contentedly as he headed for the door. “You’ll make an excellent mother,” Cooper told you. “Much better than mine. I know it.” He patted the doorframe on his way out. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

[sm-baby]

The Chosen One

Freakshow AU by: @hootbon

WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-

Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account

Word count: 6795

Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA

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

Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.

There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.

They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them. 

Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied. 

Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.

When he visited though, it was always a treat.

Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—

“A little harder to break. “

Kinger was feeling especially antsy? 

“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”

Ragatha, did you anger Caine?

“ I will speak to him." 

The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap. 

That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options. 

A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-

“You! At the very back."

It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious. 

The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option. 

Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body. 

“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.." 

Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"

Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle. 

Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy. 

“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”

“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him. 

Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her… 

“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.

It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered. 

The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “

" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.

" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull. 

“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.

“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!

" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again! 

" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"

“ Because I want her."

Silence… 

The blue Brother stared. 

Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.

“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “

Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.

Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.

Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.

Why is it always the new girl?

❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎ 

Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.

“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓��□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”

“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”

“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “

“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”

“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”

“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”

Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time? 

“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “

" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text. 

" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “

Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least." 

" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.

Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.

“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “

“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”

“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “

“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”

“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”

“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”

“■︎□︎📬︎ “

The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings. 

Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.

She’ll be fine. 

She'll be fine.

She's fine. 

Shes—

“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”

What!?

" What!? “

The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened. 

When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “

“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up. 

Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe. 

Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “

They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.

For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.

“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.

Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.

Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company." 

Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared. 

Snap!

Blip! 

Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.

She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.

“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “

She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one. 

Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.

Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.

*(A closet made of fine wood)

> Check

Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up… 

Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…

 “ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice.   -Able AI “ +2 armor

Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm.    - Able AI “ +8 armor

Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend.    - Able AI “ +6 Attack

And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door. 

*(Take items?)

   > Yes

   > No

   > Yes

*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)

Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.

The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni.  I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance.    -Able AI“ +5 speed

*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)

    > Yes

    > No

    > Yes

*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)

Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian… 

Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.

Anyways, this freaked her out.

Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.

A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game? 

She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game… 

…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire. 

Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Click!

Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet. 

He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “

“ Uhh-" 

“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “

" U-Uhm my name is-”

" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."

" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “

“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”

Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine… 

“ You must be hungry."

“ I haven't been hungry since-" 

Snap!

Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table. 

Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest. 

“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… " 

Pomni had a double take.

The food looked… Strangely realistic.

Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.

But this… 

Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since… 

Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.

Improper.

Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking.  The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!

“ Do you still eat in the circus?"

“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.

Able blinked, hiding his disgust.

The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?

Oh god oh fuck.

Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-

“ J... Just finish chewing."

“COOL." 

Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure. 

*(Able sits at the opposite of you)

     > Talk

     > Say nothing

     >Talk

*(Talk about…)

     > Place

     > Food

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Place

“W…Where.. Am I?”

Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”

Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”

*(Talk about…)

     > Food

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

    > Food

“ How did you .. what…?”

“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”

 *(Talk about…)

     > Festivities

     > Caine

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Caine

“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”

Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”

*(Talk about…)

     > Festivities

     > Nothing, Nevermind

     > Festivities

“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”

“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”

Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.

“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.” 

“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”

“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”

Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.

…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother. 

“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh? 

She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…

“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf.  The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say?? 

Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.

“ I suppose I should word myself better…” 

Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form. 

“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!

“ I -” Pomni flinched!

“ You. You specifically.”

The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death! 

Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…

“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!

Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!

“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “  I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word. 

And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down. 

Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?" 

" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “

Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief…  at this point he was almost over it… 

Was that really it? 

Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because… 

Because… 

Oh heavens how embarrassing. 

He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!

Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog… 

As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair… 

The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him. 

“... Are you okay?"

Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself. 

“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."

As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “

“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

“ W-When can I… leave?" 

… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “

“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.

The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time… 

he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care. 

For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated… 

Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself. 

Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something… 

“There are no traps."

Pomni sighed.

" I think.”

" You think??”

" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “

Great.. 

And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.

But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there. 

she would read the signs 

“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2 

          || Note: consider more coloring options for the tent.    -Able AI”

“ Moon.AI Beta 

         ||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance.    -Caine AI”

" The VOID (Do not enter)”

The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…

Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over. 

Slam!

“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?" 

It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “

“ Out of here?"

“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?" 

" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “

“ He tried?" 

" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy." 

" Can I see it? “

" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.

" But-”

" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “

Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable. 

Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus… 

She did it. She won.

She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride. 

“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “

Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.

On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?

She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.

Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.

A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.

Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.

But then,

Creaak… The sound of the door. 

“ A moment alone." 

Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…

Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair. 

Pomni swallowed.

Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy. 

For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate. 

“ How was your visit?"

“ Good." Pomni frowned.

“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “

What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”

" Stop. “ 

The brushing stopped, 

" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.

Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.

Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?

“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “

Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze. 

" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “

Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.

“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “

“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well. 

" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked. 

" And what would happen if I said yes? “

" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “

" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure. 

To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business. 

“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “

" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “

"... No? “

" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “

“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.

Pomni exhaled… 

shit… change the subject.

Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “

Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “

“ Huh?"

“ It was rigged, my dear." 

“ Oh…… … … … "

“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued. 

Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.

“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “

“... Thanks." 

" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened. 

Caine moved closer to the door.  “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“

Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”

The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head. 

She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.

She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.

It's okay, Pomni.

We have a plan. 

This isn't over yet. 

[lady-ashfade]

so this one i stole again lol from your list. “Please go on a date with me.”

basically percy notices the reader and tries to impress her by doing crazy ridiculous things but she’s not interested because she thinks his ego is too big. finally she comes around when she sees he got hurt doing something for her to notice him. i hope that makes sense.

Falling for you- Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

-£ words: 900 words

-£ Warnings: Short story, Simp Percy, cute crushes, reader being a bit mean to him, percy get it hurt, fluffy fic

-£ taglist: @kazurami14 @anonymouslyawesome25 @american-idiot21

the son of poseidon was persistent.

no matter how many times you told him off, or set him running with his head running, or you leaving him alone. he always kept coming back. Percy was often knocking his opponent down in training hoping you’d see him. he did everything to try and get your attention.

his back legs curled around a tree branch where you normally took your daily stroll, he was hanging down with a huge smile on his face and his cheeks glowing red. “percy.” you greeted with a uninterested tone. he just kept that annoying big smile, “lovely day isn’t it?” the only thing you did was roll your eyes and continue to walk down the dirt path. “And you’re ruining it.”

when he first arrived at camp, he already had some sort of glory after defeating a minotaur. he just kept finding his way in danger and saving the day, time after time. but his stupid smirk or smile told you he was too full of himself. he’d making the lake waves move, or make them a shape of something. no matter what, he was showing off.

and boy did you hate it.

somehow he find his way to you and that annoyed you, it was just too much. honestly you didn’t even realize he was trying to get your attention and just thought he was showing off to everyone. and certainly you didn’t know he had a crush on you. all you noticed was his ego.

but he noticed everything about you.

the way you walked, if you held your head up high or at the ground. how pretty your face shined when the sun shined on it, and how your smile shined even brighter. he was constantly chasing after you, he was craving to get your attention. most of the time he just did what popped up in his head which for someone like him, and you, was always dangerous and over the top. he lacked self control.

how someone could be so beautiful he couldn’t understand. even when you fought, he was entranced. you could be the worst fighter and he’d stare at you like the stars in the sky. his heart belonged to you.

but this time, he had gone to far.

“you’re a idiot,” you push his head under the water as you clothes get wetter by the second of sitting in the water. the bruising on his skin and the cuts going along with it only made your heart ache worse. his stunt didn’t go so well this time, hints his fracture wrist. he took a deep breath as he came back up even though he could breath under the water. he just wasn’t thinking straight.

sitting yourself back down on the sand you click your tongue. he had challenged you to a fight with that same attitude, the same smirk, the same slick tone. he got a little to distracted near the edge. he walked backwards with his sword held pointed at you, “look at us spending time together, we should do this more often.” he really should have watched his steps because his foot finally slipped and he took a tumble down onto the rocks. you watch him slide down, his grunts of pain and the way his body sounded made you cringe

lucky he landing on the shore line and only a few feet away from the water. which is were you two stay now catching your breath and thinking to yourself. why did you care if he was actually hurt or not? not like he would die or stay injured because he always got back up. why did his smile finally get to you back then?

and why was your stomach sick.

as you thought to yourself percy watched again like he always found himself doing. he loved the look on your face when you were deep in thought. and now that your face was wet and hair hanging down he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper for you.

“please go on a date with me.” his words cut you out of thought.

your eyes grow bigger and look at him shocked and startled. you couldn’t believe your ears. he just asked you out on a date…percy jackson asked you out. the cocky, dumb, arrogant demigod was talking to you. Why, you hate his guts and always made fun of him. he jumped up from the water and you saw his teeth pinch the inside of his mouth anxiously.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “it just came out. I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks but i couldn’t work up the courage to ask you out, I’m not good at this type of thing.” percy jackson lacking courage? that made you laugh. you looked up at him, the sun shining behind him as his hand now extended to you offering to help you up. any other time you would have smacked it away and cursed at him to leave you alone.

“I know you probably think I’m a total idiot which is true but, I really like you. If you really don’t want anything to do with me then I respect your wishes.”

but now you realize that you actually enjoyed his company. he made camp fun and exciting. and boy, was he handsome now that you really look at him. “alright, beach boy.” you grabbed ahold of his hand as he pulls you up. your body pressed into his and knocked him back a bit but his arm grabbed ahold of your waist to steady you.

inches away from his face your lips curled in a small smirk, “You got yourself a deal.”

[inkedinshadows]

What Truly Matters

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: After the war, Y/N has fallen into an unhealthy routine of training and pushing everyone away. But Azriel had enough of it and wants to know why she's doing it.

Warnings: angst, language, mention of child death

Word count: 4.5k

֍֍֍֍֍

Sweat was dripping down her forehead, and Y/N took just a moment to wipe it away with the back of her hand before she got back into position in front of the target and started training again.

During the war with Koschei, the Illyrians had suffered substantial losses. Their victory felt almost like a defeat, and Rhysand had been trying to get them back on their feet since. Y/N was stationed in one of the camps with Azriel to help him do just that, though she had no idea why. As if being female wasn't enough, she wasn't Illyrian. She wasn't even a warrior, for that matter. She didn't understand why Rhys thought she might help. He must've known the Illyrians were only going to sneer and laugh at her.

But she didn't mind. Staying at the camp meant she could train all day. To get better, stronger, faster. So that what had happened during the war would never happen again. She'd fallen into the habit of arriving at the training ring before dawn and leaving after twilight. It helped take her mind off things.

She swung her sword at the dummy target, aiming for its chest, then arms, then head, just like Cassian and Azriel had shown her. She did it again, over and over. Her breaths came in sharp pants, but she never stopped.

She knew Azriel was watching her. He always was these days, but she always ignored it. She ignored him, just like she ignored all her friends and anything that didn't involve physical exercise.

“Y/N.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Azriel take a step forward. She didn't even look his way as she kept hitting the target.

“Take a break,” he said. She'd heard him use that tone before with the Illyrians. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order.

Too bad she didn't answer to him.

“I don't need one.” Her words came in between one lunge and the next, her eyes never leaving the dummy.

“You do need one.” Azriel stepped even closer but still kept his distance. “You're going to hurt yourself if you keep pushing like that. Your body needs to recover. You need to rest and eat.”

Y/N gritted her teeth as the next hit reverberated along her arm. Her limbs were sore, yet she welcomed the pain. “I don't. My body is fine.”

Azriel spoke again, something about her unhealthy habits and how she should stop. She did no such thing, and instead put even more effort and strength into her blows.

“You're distracting me.”

He was close enough now that his shadows pooled at her feet, sliding up her legs as if they could stop her. She glared at them for just a second before resuming her movements.

“Do you think I can't see what you're doing?” Azriel’s voice was cold as ice, colder than she'd ever heard. “You're punishing yourself because you think you deserve it. But you're just going to collapse if you don’t stop. Are you trying to die or something?”

“Maybe.”

The word was out before she even realized it. But there it was: the truth, now out in the open. The thought that had been lingering in the back of her mind for months. That maybe she did deserve to die for what she'd done. Or rather, for what she'd failed to do.

She finally looked at Azriel then. She saw the shock on his face, the hurt in his eyes. His shadows retreated back to his side as if even they couldn't stand the truth she'd revealed.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Y/N wiped her sweat away again, tightened her grip on the hilt, and went back to jabbing, hitting, lunging.

She suddenly stopped mid-blow, her sword raised, the tip just a few inches from Azriel's neck. He'd stepped in front of her faster than she could see and didn't even flinch when her blade almost cut through him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she yelled, her arm falling back to her side. “I could've killed you!”

Azriel didn't look bothered. Whether it was because he knew she'd be able to check that swing or because he would have stopped it himself if she hadn't, she couldn't tell.

“What do you mean, ‘maybe’?” he asked instead. “Do you really believe you need to punish yourself like this?”

She snapped then. “So what if I do? Why do you care? Shouldn't you be overseeing the Illyrians?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes and his jaw set. “You know damn well why I care, Y/N.”

She might know, but she didn't care. Couldn't bring herself to, not anymore.

“What I know is that you should go back to do your job.” She stepped around him to position herself in front of the target again. “And let me do my thing.”

Azriel gripped her elbow, forcing her to turn around and face him. “You're not doing ‘your thing’,” he growled. He was getting angry now. Good. “You've let your training become an obsession. You never stop. You barely sleep. You barely eat. You're hurting yourself, Y/N.”

He was right, and she knew it. But why couldn't he understand? Why couldn't he let her go so she could go back to training? But despite her effort of freeing her arm, his grip didn't loosen.

“So you've noticed things. Congratulations, you're good at your spymaster job.” She bared her teeth at him. “Now let me go, Azriel.”

“No.” His voice was firm and low. It was the voice of the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court. Y/N might have flinched, if she'd only cared about it. “You're pushing yourself beyond your limits. And you want me to stand by and let you continue like this?”

“Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do. Consider it a favor, an order, a command. Whatever you want as long as you do.” She tried to yank her arm free once more and when she couldn't, she glowered up at him. “Because you know what the alternative to training is?”

He didn't answer, but she noticed the tic in his jaw, the way his brow furrowed for just a second. He was trying to figure it out.

“Did you know,” she started slowly, “that they don't let females buy alcohol here? Especially if they're not even Illyrian. So it's either training or sex, Azriel.” She raised an eyebrow, staring right into his eyes. She stopped struggling against his grip. She knew she was being a bitch, and that none of this was his fault. Just like she knew her next words were going to hurt him, and yet she said them anyway. “Would you prefer that? Would it make you feel better if instead of training, I'd let every Illyrian in this camp fuck me?”

She could tell the exact moment her words struck home. Azriel froze. He went completely, utterly still. Even his shadows halted their usual swirling around his body and wings. But his eyes… She might as well have been staring at rage itself.

“Don't you dare,” he said. His icy tone, so at odds with the anger burning inside him, would send wiser people running from him. But Y/N wasn't exactly being wise right now.

“It's your choice, Azriel.” His grasp on her arm tightened so much it almost hurt, but the slight pain was a welcomed friend. “What will it be? Training or fucking?”

He was silent for a long minute, his eyes locked on her face. And for a moment, she could see it: the Spymaster, the Shadowinger, the one whose sight was enough to frighten people.

They were both aware of what Illyrians would do to her if she sought them out willingly. To them, she was little more than an object, and they'd stayed away so far only out of fear of Azriel's wrath. But if she was the one who approached them, things would be different. Y/N didn’t have any particular desire to let those brutes anywhere near her, but if Azriel was going to take away her training and she wasn't allowed to drink… she had to find another way to either feel something other than grief and guilt, or to numb everything.

“No one is allowed to touch you,” Azriel said through gritted teeth, as if struggling to control his rage. “I won't let them touch you.”

Y/N bit her tongue to keep quiet. A part of her, the one that was hurting and just wished for relief, wanted to lash out and tell him to fuck her himself if no one else was allowed. But another part of her, the one that still cared, knew she couldn't cross that line. She was acting like a spiteful bitch, but she still had limits. She wouldn't hurt Azriel more than she already had.

“Then let me train,” she replied instead. “Let me go, move aside, and let me finish what I was doing.”

“Over my dead body.”

They stared at each other, his hand still on her elbow, hers still holding the sword. She had to find a way to make him leave. She didn't even know why he was still there, still not giving up. She'd pushed everyone else away in the last few months: Elain, Nesta, Rhys… even Feyre and Cassian. All of them. And yet, Azriel was still here.

“Is this because of the children?”

Her heart stopped. Her body froze. Memories flooded her mind: screams and blood and cries; unanswered prayers, ignored pleas and evil laughs.

Suddenly, she moved, too swiftly for even Azriel to react. Yanking her arm away, she stepped back, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Don't,” she spat. “Don't even mention the children.”

Azriel's shoulders slumped as he realized what was going on. His anger seemed to disappear, and his gaze softened as he took a step forward. But she couldn't bear the pity in his eyes and retreated a step. She'd much rather face his rage than his pity.

Azriel's voice was calm and collected when he spoke again. “I know you're hurting. But this is madness, Y/N. Why are you doing this?”

“Because…” she started, her voice still loud with anger. But just the mention of the children left her feeling drained. Empty and spent, she stared at him without really seeing. There was nothing left inside her but an overwhelming void she had no idea how to fill.

“It should have been me,” she whispered in a flat voice. “It should have been me, Az.”

Her sword clattered to the floor and the cold ground bit at her knees as her legs gave out. Azriel was there in an instant, crouching before her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“It was the only thing Rhys asked me to do,” she murmured. A sob shook her and tears followed short after. All the tears she hadn't shed since it happened were now flowing like a tidal wave. She didn't care if anyone passing by could see her. “To protect those children and lead them away from the battle. But I failed, and now they're all dead. Because of me.”

“Y/N–”

“The only thing, Az.” She shook her head, her eyes closed. “And I failed him. I failed them. I failed their families. I failed everyone.”

His grip on her shoulders tightened, and then it was the only solid thing as the world turned into shadows and wind. When she looked up, she realized Azriel had winnowed them away from prying eyes and into the cabin they shared at the camp.

“It's not your fault, Y/N,” he said gently. “No one blames you for it.”

“I do.” She pushed away from him, though she didn't try to stand up. Her legs were too sore from all the exercise, and now that she'd stopped and the adrenaline of training had worn off, it would take a while for her body to work the way she wanted it to.

“It's my damn fucking fault and you know it. Everybody knows it, and yet no one acknowledges it.” Anger surged once more and she almost screamed. “No one! Not even Rhys!”

Azriel’s eyes remained soft, his voice still gentle. “Because we know there was nothing you could do, Y/N.”

She couldn’t bear it, that pity. She wanted him to get mad at her, to yell and scream at her and give her the confrontation she needed.

“Nesta took out the soldiers all by herself,” she retorted. “Five soldiers. All by herself.”

“Nesta is a Valkyrie. She has more–”

“More training and experience,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “She had the element of surprise and all that. Can people stop repeating that already?”

Cassian had told her. Rhys had told her. Nesta herself. Yet it didn't change the simple fact that when those soldiers had found Y/N and the children, they caught her so off guard she barely had time to draw her blade before they seized her. And then made her watch as they killed the children. They were getting started on her when Nesta found them. Too late. Or too early, by then. A few more minutes, and Y/N would have died too. At least she wouldn't have had to live with that guilt and pain.

“I thanked her, you know,” she added in a whisper, meeting Azriel’s eyes. “Nesta. I thanked her when she saved me. But I didn't mean it.”

Realization dawned on him, and she didn't resist when he pulled her to him. She allowed herself to be enveloped in his arms, and in that moment, with just the two of them, she let go.

Azriel caressed her hair, unfazed by her sweat or the tears soaking his clothes as she cried into his chest. “Shhh,” he whispered in a soothing voice. “It wasn't your fault, sweetheart. Why do you keep punishing yourself like this?”

Deep down, a part of her knew he was right. That even if she'd got the chance to fight back against those soldiers, she wouldn't have been able to take down more than one and the others would have gotten to the children anyway. It didn’t make it any easier though.

“Do you know how old the oldest child was? Did Rhys tell you?” Her voice was muffled by her sobs, her face pressed against the crook of his neck. She continued before he could answer. “He was nine, Az. Nine. The same age my brother was when he…” She trailed off, unable to say the words even after more than a century.

She swallowed in an attempt to calm down and lifted her head to look at Azriel again. “What I'm trying to say is, I know what kind of pain their deaths brought to their families. And knowing I was the reason for it… it's just… it’s too much.”

A flicker of anger sparked in his eyes. “You know what kind of pain it brings,” he echoed. “So why push yourself until you collapse? Why would you bring that same pain upon your own family?”

“You know my family doesn't care if I live or die,” she retorted, her voice a bit sharper.

Azriel clenched his jaw. “Not your parents, Y/N,” he growled. “Your real family. Cassian would be crushed. Feyre broken. Even Amren. And… and me.” There was a vulnerability now in his voice that she'd never heard before. “I would care. I would be devastated. Not just as your friend, but… No, not just as your friend.”

She could only stare at him. Her real family. Not the one she was born into, but the one she'd chosen. The one that had chosen her back. How could she ever forget that?

Cassian, Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Mor, Amren. All of them.

Azriel. Did he know?

Not just as your friend.

He probably did. But it didn't matter now.

She had pushed them all away. Because it was easier than accepting that they were right, that there was nothing she could have done to save those children. It was easier to stay away than to see their faces and know they weren't angry at her for failing, when she couldn't forgive herself.

“I'm sorry.” Another sob tore through her as she hugged Azriel. “I'm so sorry, Az… you're my family. I don't know why I lost sight of that.”

His hand drew soothing circles on her back. “Grief and guilt can do that,” he said softly. “They make you forget who you are and what truly matters… who matters.”

Azriel rested his chin on top of her head. They stayed like that for what could have been hours. Y/N kept crying all the tears she'd bottled up since the war until she was spent and her eyes stung, but never once did Azriel’s embrace falter. He held her through it all.

“Do you think they can forgive me?” she eventually asked.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I know they will. They're your family, Y/N. They're just worried about you.”

She lifted her head then, looked in his eyes and found concern staring back at her. “Can you forgive me?”

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Azriel cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the last of her tears. “Of course I can. I already have.” He smiled, and it started to heal something inside her. “Just promise me you won't push us away again. Let us, let me, help you.”

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. Azriel was right. She couldn't keep pushing away her friends, her family. And maybe she'd never get to the point of not blaming herself for the death of those children, but with some help she could learn how to live with the guilt.

“Good. That's the Y/N I know.”

She looked at Azriel again, only to see that soft smile still gracing his lips. She’d always loved that smile.

Azriel stood up and offered her his hand. She took it immediately and let him help her up. And then she realized there was a small smile on her own lips, the first one in months. Since the children.

“Now, will you let me cook you something?” Azriel let go of her hand and turned around toward the small kitchen counter. “You need to start eating healthy again.”

Y/N appreciated his thoughtfulness, but she still found herself saying, “I thought it was the other way around.”

“What was?” he asked with a glance, his focus already on this new task. Tendrils of shadows were spreading around as if eager to contribute.

She didn't know why she'd said that. Maybe she could still change the subject or come up with some other stupid answer. And yet she couldn't stop the words already on her tongue. “Isn't the female supposed to be the one offering food to her mate?”

Azriel turned to her then. His face seemed a bit paler than before. “You know.”

She smiled. A real, full smile as she nodded. “If I hadn't known already, you kind of gave it away earlier. ‘Not just as your friend, but…’?” She shrugged. “It was pretty obvious, to be honest.”

He still looked a little wary, though. “How long have you known?”

“Since last spring.”

“That was more than a year ago.”

Y/N cocked her head. “So how long have you known?”

“Just a couple months.” Azriel's gaze bore into her. “Why didn't you say anything a year ago?”

This was not how she had imagined this conversation to go. Not in a cabin in a war camp lost in the Illyrian mountains. Definitely not after months during which she hadn't allowed herself to feel anything beyond grief and guilt until she was drowning in them. But she was glad that the truth was finally coming to light, no matter how unexpected it was.

“I wanted to, Az, trust me. But I didn't know how, and… a part of me hoped you'd want me regardless of the bond.” Y/N sighed and she shook her head, as if to chase away her thoughts. “But the war started soon after that, and everything happened, and I just… I shut everything out. Even the bond.”

“Y/N.” He closed the space between them and took her hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze. His eyes were soft, his tone gentle. “I've wanted you for a long time. Long before I even knew you were my mate.”

She hadn't seen that coming. Azriel wanted her? And he had for a while, apparently. “Why didn't you say anything then?” she questioned without even trying to hide her surprise.

“Because I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship.” The vulnerability in his voice made her brace herself for what he might say next. “That you might not… love me the way I love you.”

Her heart was pounding and she could only stare into his eyes. He loved her. There'd been a time when hearing him say those three little words was everything she hoped for. But he didn’t think she loved him back. Well, she couldn't really blame him for it. Not after how she'd been acting lately.

Y/N let the wall she'd erected around the bond come down. She let her feelings flow toward Azriel’s end of it. She held back her pain and her guilt and her grief, but the love she'd pushed down and refused to acknowledge for months flooded the mating bond.

It was met halfway by Azriel’s love.

She shuddered at the intensity of it all. After all the time feeling barely anything, it was almost overwhelming. Y/N welcomed it in her soul and let it wrap around the broken pieces of her heart.

Azriel's smile was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. “Does that mean you will accept the bond?”

She nodded, smiling as well and holding his hands a bit tighter. “Of course I will,” she answered. “But not now. I want to get better first. To learn how to cope with all this guilt. And then I'll cook you anything you want.”

He seemed surprised and for a moment Y/N thought he might not understand her decision. But then he cupped her cheeks. “That's very wise,” he murmured, leaning in to brush a kiss on her forehead. “You can take all the time you need, sweetheart. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

She hugged him tightly, with no intention of letting him go anytime soon. New tears swelled up in her eyes, but she tried to hold them back this time.

She'd ignored her feelings for Azriel and their mating bond as an additional way to punish herself, but a part of her also believed she didn't deserve him after her failure. But now… maybe it had all been a huge mistake after all.

Azriel wrapped her in his arms and wings, his chin resting on the top of her head as his scent enveloped her. Night-chilled mist and cedar. As familiar as her own, if not more. It soothed her, made her feel safe. It was a beacon toward the light, toward home, after months lost in the darkness.

“You know, I should thank Rhys,” she whispered after a few minutes.

“Rhys?” Azriel pulled back to look down at her, confusion clear on his face and in his voice. “For what?”

“Well,” she started with a little shrug, “we all know you don't really need my help with the Illyrians. I'm kind of useless. And I doubt I'm here so I can train till I pass out.” She gave him an apologetic look before she went on. “I think Rhys sent me here because of you. Because he knew that if there was someone who could help me, it'd be you, Az.”

Azriel thought it over, but she could see he was inclined to believe it too. “Do you think he knows we're mates?”

Y/N frowned. “I don't know. I never told anyone.”

“Me neither.” He shook his head. “But you're right. We'll thank him when we go back to Velaris.”

“Hopefully soon,” she muttered with a sigh. “I have a lot of apologizing to do.”

Azriel caressed her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “They'll forgive you, Y/N. What matters to them is that you get better. I can promise you that.”

It was her turn to bring her hands up to his cheeks and gently cup them. She was so grateful to have him at her side. “I'm glad it's you,” she said, her voice soft. “I'm glad you're my mate, Az.”

His smile lit up his whole face. He slowly leaned in, and she held her breath as he brushed his lips against hers. It wasn't exactly a kiss, more like the promise of one, but it was enough to leave behind a tingling sensation when he pulled back.

“And I'm glad you are mine, Y/N,” he murmured, smiling down at her. “But now you should really eat something. Go take a bath, maybe, and food will be ready when you come back.”

Y/N chuckled as she took a step back. “That's why you didn't kiss me? Because I stink?”

Azriel's eyes widened, but he quickly relaxed again. He looked relieved that she was trying to joke. It was a step toward getting back to her usual self.

“I did not say you stink. But you've been training all day and you're all sweaty,” he answered, continuing before she could reply. “And I didn't kiss you because I know that if I start… I might never want to stop.”

She studied him for a moment, her brow furrowed. “I'm not sure I believe you, but that's a better reason for sure.” Y/N left a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

Azriel was already shaking his head. “You don't have to thank me. Not for helping you. I'll always do it gladly.”

“And that's exactly why I'm thanking you, Az.” She smiled, brushing his hand while she turned to walk out and toward the bathroom.

The path ahead might be full of obstacles and setbacks, and she wasn't foolish enough to believe she could wake up tomorrow without feeling guilty, but she had Azriel to help her now. The rest of her family as well, once she apologized and explained why she'd shut them out.

More importantly, she was willing to let them help and to heal. She was tired of feeling this way and wanted to get better. For her own wellbeing, sure, but also to give Azriel the best version of herself because he deserved no less than that.

And when she was ready, she'd accept the mating bond and they'd start their life together.

[nekrosmos]

Price had to shave. Entirely.

It was for a minor surgery; one of his last op had left him with a small piece of shrapnel stuck under the skin of his jaw, which hadn’t been noticed right away, preventing the wound from healing properly. Sure, he could have only shaved the sides and kept a mustache, but he figured now was the time to do a full shave, even if he really, really hated the idea.

He didn’t tell anyone about the surgery, but Nikolai sure noticed his foul mood the few days before it. A few probing questions here and there, but John absolutely refused to elaborate, so Nik let it go.

And then the day came. They were busy getting ready, Price in the bathroom while Nik was getting dressed in their bedroom, hips moving to a song the speaker on his nightstand was blaring. That was why he didn’t hear the beard clipper buzzing, and that was why he almost fell back in surprise when he was greeted by a face he had not seen in well over 10 years when he turned around.

"Нифига себе John, give me a warning next time. What is this for?"

Price avoided eye contact, focused on getting inside his shirt and grumbling an answer Nikolai almost struggled to understand.

"S'nothing, got a small surgery later today, had to shave. Don't make a big deal out of it Nik."

A glance to the side of John's face and Nikolai noticed the wound, raising an eyebrow at this. He didn't like the fact that John had hidden a surgery from him at all, the captain's stubbornness often a point of contention throughout their relationship, but Nikolai had to admit that the sight of his lover's freshly shaved face was quite the distraction.

The initial shock now gone, a wide smile appeared on Nik’s face as he moved towards John, his arms wrapping themselves around his shape while John grumbled some more, trying to escape his partner’s embrace until Nik firmly locked his chin between his hand and lifted John’s face, finally taking in the full sight of a fully shaved John Price. 

“Aaaah, like when we were boys.” Nik said, smile still as wide, eyes tenderly staring at his lover while a thumb ran across John’s cheek.

“I look fucking twelve, Nik. Do you know how long it took me to shut the sergeants up last time Farah told them about my time without a beard? Three. Fucking. Months. They kept asking for pictures, tried to bribe Laswell a few times, too. I am never going to hear the end of it.” 

A hearty laugh escaped Nikolai’s lips, amused and endeared by John’s reaction. 

“You can always threaten them with hand-to-hand combat training with me if they give you any trouble.” 

Whatever complaints came out of John after this, Nikolai didn’t hear, as he was busy kissing the bare skin of John’s jaw and chin, big hands grabbing the side of his face and keeping him in place as he did so. It was like going back in time, flashbacks of their time together as younger men coming back to him, missions in the desert watching John’s face redden because he was too proud to wear a hat, memories of time spent together in bars, Price getting so drunk that Nik had to carry him back to the barracks, all those times Nik had stared at him with longing in his heart that he thought would never be fulfilled, only to now have him all for himself, all these years later. 

“I think we are going to be late, John.” was all Nik said before gently pushing John against their bed, lips immediately meeting his bare skin once more, kissing and teasing while John slowly relaxed under him, each kiss breaking his guard down, bit by bit. 

It would take John a long time to regrow his beard to what it was, and Nikolai was going to enjoy every single second of it.

[svetamillss]

That pregnant headcanons with Hyun-ju was so cute! I don’t mean to sound demanding and you can skip over this one if you like, but I’m curious to see what would happen during labor and the first few months with the baby. Again, zero pressure at all! Your writing is nice

Headcanons: you and your girlfriend became mothers💞

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Summary: It's, so to speak, a continuation of my headcanons on the topic of your pregnancy. Also here I didn't give daughter's name, I just call her by her nickname

A/N: Thank you very much for your order, I hope you will like the continuation!

💞💞💞

💞You were very afraid to give birth, especially after the stories of your acquaintances. You were so intimidated that you thought you would die during childbirth and cried for a long time Hyun Ju, but she always calmed you down about it and said that everything would be fine. But you were still afraid, so she decided that she would be present at the birth. You were very happy with this news, now it's not scary to give birth.

Childbirth took place from early morning until evening, around 8 o'clock, as she said, the girl was next to you and talked to you all this time (doctors advised you to somehow distract from the pain).

A healthy girl was born, only she went almost all in Hyun Ju, your daughter took only lips and eye color from you.

💞Since your daughter was healthy, you were not kept in the maternity hospital for a long time and literally a couple of days later you were discharged. You lived far from your parents and friends (in Thailand, let's imagine that Hyun Ju's dream came true), so only your girlfriend came to the discharge from the maternity hospital, with a cute gift for you: your favorite flowers and a couple of balloons. It was cozy, cute and tender, especially at the moment when Hyun Ju burst into tears taking a little miracle in her hands. A happy and cheerful life was waiting for you.

💞The first months were a complete hell for all of you. The baby very often cried and was capricious that your girlfriend often jokes and says that her daughter has your character.

The baby often woke up at night. During the day you got very tired taking care of your daughter, because your love was at work, so it's very difficult for you to get up at night, but your girlfriend takes care of everything (only if it's not feeding, if need to feed, she wakes you up).

- Star woke up (this is your daughter's nickname). I have to get up.. - you muttered sleepily, about to get up, but Hyun Ju stopped you.

- Baby, sleep, you're very tired for the day, and I'll take care of the star, but if it turns out that she wants to eat, then I'll wake you up. - you nodded and fell asleep to the girl's sweet kisses, after which she went to the star.

💞Sometimes you have joking arguments about your daughter.

- I wonder when our girl says the word "mom" for the first time, who will she mean? - the girl asks, watching you change the star's diaper.

- Me, of course.

- Why else is that?

- I gave birth to her for about 8 hours! - you proudly repeated.

- But thanks to me you were able to get pregnant, so I played a big role. - Hyun Ju replied with a smile, it seems that she won the argument, but you didn't want it.

- But she spend much more time with me than you! - you didn't give up, but looking at the girl's face, you realized that she would now be able to win back.

- But you're on maternity leave, and I work to feed the family, that's why you spend more time, baby. - she won, again.

💞Thanks to the birth of your daughter, you spend more time together (not counting the work of Hyun Ju). You walk together with the star in the park, because your daughter needs to breathe fresh air. You even to take care of her together. Together you prepare her for bed, bath her and change her diapers. Real good mothers.

💞Unfortunately, you don’t have sex in the first months. That's why Hyun Ju began to tease you harder, because she needs to somehow satisfy herself in this regard.

When you sitting together and you breastfeeding, she likes to joke about it.

- How well she eats your breast milk.

- Of course, this is her main food, and in general, all children love it. - you say without suspecting anything.

- Then can I become a small child too and drink your milk? - she says in a playful voice, which makes you blush a lot, if it weren't for the child in your arms, you wouldn't be able to hold back.

- Hyun Ju! What kind of words are these!?

- Well, why? So you can drink from my chest, besides, there's nothing there, but I'm not with yours? - she said touchingly, but seeing how you can barely hold back, she decided to stop, she knows what she can get.

💞💞💞

[vibelladonna]

Hi!!! I love your stories, they really make my day better!! I have an idea about Crow×Y/N, if this order is not interesting to you, sorry for the disturbance!!

Is it possible to react to the fact that Y/N began to avoid Crow because of fear of unrequited love and rejection, but in the end Crow catches up with us and interrogates us why we behave so strangely and confess our feelings to him

Sorry if this order is very boring but in any case good luck to you!!

❛ 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 𝓍 𝑔𝓃! 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: You've been avoiding Crow lately, too afraid to face your growing feelings for him. But when he finally catches up with you, he demands to know why you've been acting so strangely, forcing you to confront the truth.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Anonymous asked! I really like the idea of fear of unrequited love and rejection—definitely something I’d feel in that kind of situation. Also, for some reason, the ask box isn’t showing up on my phone, but it’s working fine on my laptop! I’ll be posting a few fics this week—probably no more than three. 

Sorry for the absence; I’ve been taking a mental break, catching up on sleep, and getting ready to head back to campus for the spring semester next week. But don’t worry, I’ll still be working on fics during the weekends or whenever I have free time!

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: Angst, Unrequited Love, Emotional Tension, Hurt/Comfort, Confession, Avoidance, Self-Doubt, Internal Struggle, Miscommunication, and Fluff (towards the end—I’m not heartless)! Also, some spicy moments to add in!

It had been two weeks since you mentioned the research options for your major—the ones you promised would keep you busy, even distracted. You’d told Crowe that your time would be consumed with textbooks and endless articles, diving into opportunities related to your major. But as the days passed, something felt off. The absence of your usual messages, your familiar presence in the hallways, and the sound of your voice in class slowly began to gnaw at him. 

Crowe had reached out several times. Texts, DMs, and even a couple of voicemails. Yet, there was nothing. No replies. 

It wasn’t like you to shut him out.

You were always upfront—maybe too upfront at times—but that brutal honesty was something Crowe genuinely admired about you. And now? Silence. Complete, unnerving silence.

His mind kept returning to the same question: What happened?

"Have you heard from them?" Crowe asked his voice tight with concern. Brittney Claire—better known as Brit—had been the first to ask about you, her tall, tan figure framed against the backdrop of the student lounge one evening when she approached him. Her usually narrowed, indifferent eyes were now clouded with worry.

"No," Brit replied, her brow furrowing as she gave him a puzzled look. "Not since they said they were diving into research. You sure you’ve been trying to reach them?"

Crowe’s grip on the strap of his bag tightened, his fingers digging into the material as he suppressed his frustration. "Of course I have. More than once. They haven’t even texted me back, and you know that’s not like them."

Brit raised an eyebrow, her gaze scanning him for a beat before her face morphed into something unreadable. "Weird," she muttered, her voice laced with suspicion. "I thought you were always the one in the know, Crowe. You two are closer than anyone else. You should know where they are."

The comment hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t about being in the loop, or being ‘close’—it was about making sure you were okay.

Brit took a step back, her expression softening as she saw the tension in Crowe’s shoulders. She sighed, exhaling deeply as if weighing the situation in her mind. "I can tell you're worried," she said, her tone gentler now. "Want me to help you track them down?"

Crowe shook his head immediately, a quiet, unspoken tension hanging in the space between them. "No. I’ll find them myself."

And he would. Crowe was never one to back down, especially when it came to you. He knew better than anyone that you didn’t just vanish without a reason, without something pulling you away.

Something was wrong.

And he was going to find out what it was—no matter what it took.

Crowe didn’t waste any time before setting out for your usual spots—those places where he knew you’d be if you weren’t anywhere else. First, he hit the quiet corner in the library where you both spent hours lost in books, your heads bent low over pages in comfortable silence. 

Then, he headed to the small café where late-night study sessions were more the norm than the exception, the place where caffeine-fueled discussions lingered well past midnight. 

Lastly, he checked the campus bench you’d both claimed as your own, the one that had become a quiet sanctuary, a place for shared moments and unspoken understanding. But after hours of searching, there was no sign of you. No flicker of movement, no trace of your presence. 

The sky was darkening as Crowe made his way back to his dorm, his steps slow and deliberate, each one echoing the frustration he couldn’t shake. His mind replayed every moment, every conversation, trying to find something, anything, that could explain where you were. He pulled his phone from his pocket, a small distraction from the weight of his thoughts. It buzzed in his hand, and he glanced down at the new message from Brittney.

Britt: Still no word from them, huh?

Crowe: Nope. Can’t find them anywhere on campus. It’s like they vanished.

Britt: Wow. I can't help but feel like they're avoiding us.

Crowe’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening around the phone. He froze in his tracks. The thought of you avoiding him felt wrong, so foreign it stung. The words on the screen replayed in his head, each one sinking deeper into his chest.

Avoiding them? Avoiding him? Was that really what was happening? Was that what this was about?

He wasn’t blind. He could feel it too—the subtle yet undeniable shift between you and him. Maybe it had been slow, so gradual that it had escaped his notice at first, creeping in like a shadow until it had grown large enough to demand attention. Or maybe it had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface, like an undercurrent quietly pulling at the edges of everything. 

But whatever it was, it had become a wall. A barrier neither of you could ignore. And the more he thought about it, the more it became clear that it wasn’t some external force—it was a wall *you* had built. It was as if you had crafted it with your own hands, piece by piece, and now it loomed between you two, tall and impenetrable. 

He couldn’t understand why it was there, or why you hadn’t said anything about it. The silence only deepened his confusion, turning it into something more tangible, something he couldn’t shake off. Every attempt to breach it seemed futile, like reaching for something just out of his grasp. 

With each passing day, the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on him, a burden that grew heavier with every thought, every glance exchanged in passing, every conversation that no longer felt like it used to. It gnawed at him relentlessly, demanding answers he didn’t have. He couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that nothing had changed. 

Something had to happend. 

Something had to give. He felt it in his bones, knew it with a certainty he couldn’t ignore. And as much as he tried to deny it, he knew it had to happen the last time he had seen you.

Two weeks ago. The night had started like any other. You and Crowe had settled into your usual study spot in the back corner of the library—your quiet sanctuary, where the world outside felt distant, far away. It was familiar. Comfortable. The soft hum of overhead lights was the only sound, broken only by the occasional rustling of pages as you both worked in your own quiet spaces. 

The books were scattered across the table, the glow of your laptop screen illuminating your face as you juggled between tabs. Crowe sat across from you, flipping through his notes with the same casual air he always had, the same easygoing demeanor he had perfected over the years. 

But there was something different that night. 

Even though everything looked the same, and felt the same, there was a tension in the air—a subtle crackling energy, just beneath the surface. It had been there for a while now, but on that night, it had reached a breaking point.

You were buried in your research, absorbing every detail of your thesis like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed when Crowe’s voice broke through your concentration, sounding unusually thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future recently,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet intensity that was different from his usual playful tone.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his for a brief second before you quickly looked away. “Oh?” you murmured, distracted as you tried to focus on the data in front of you. You weren’t expecting this turn in the conversation. Crowe didn’t usually get into those heavy ‘future’ talks unless he was in a reflective mood, and even then, it was usually all about abstract goals or vague aspirations. 

Nothing serious. 

“Yeah,” Crowe continued, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as though bracing himself for something weightier. His voice softened, carrying an introspective tone that felt rare for him. “You know, we’re already in our third year, right? Time’s flying faster than I ever expected. And… I’ve been thinking, by the time I graduate, I want to have things a bit more figured out. Like, I want to be in a solid relationship. Someone to share things with, someone who’s… there.” 

His words hit you like an unexpected gust of cold air, leaving you momentarily stunned. You blinked, once, twice, the weight of his admission sinking in slowly but steadily. 

A relationship? 

Crowe—the same Crowe who treated most connections with a kind of playful fun—is talking about settling down? The concept felt alien, foreign, and yet it lodged itself uncomfortably in your chest. 

You cleared your throat, more to buy time than anything else, carefully composing your response. “That’s… ambitious,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt, though there was a sharpness to your words that you couldn’t quite dull. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen in front of you, a half-hearted barrier between the two of you. The flickering light cast an impassive glow over your face, but inside, your emotions churned in a quiet storm of confusion and irritation.  

Crowe didn’t seem fazed—or maybe he was just good at masking it. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, searching for something unsaid. Then he shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though his expression stayed contemplative. “I don’t know if it’s ambitious,” he said after a pause, his tone lighter but no less sincere.

“I mean, it just feels… right. We spend so much time trying to figure out majors, careers, all the practical stuff, but at the end of the day, I want someone to share the milestones with, you know? Graduating, finding a job, moving somewhere new… I don’t want to do all that alone.”

His words pulled at something deep and unwelcome inside you, a stirring that you couldn’t quite name.

Irritation, yes—but mixed with something softer, more vulnerable, something that whispered of fear and longing.

The idea of Crowe sharing those moments, those significant pieces of his life, with someone else clawed at the carefully constructed walls you’d built around your thoughts.  

“Isn’t that kind of distracting?” you asked, keeping your tone deliberately neutral, though there was an edge to your voice you couldn’t fully mask. “I mean, wouldn’t you rather focus on making sure you’ve got everything in place first before worrying about… all that?”

Crowe tilted his head, his expression thoughtful now, as though weighing your words. “Maybe,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he spoke. “But I don’t think it’s about having everything perfect. Life’s always messy, you know? I just think it’d be nice to have someone who gets it, who’s there to celebrate the wins and help carry the weight when things aren’t so great.”

He said it so earnestly, so casually, that it made your chest ache. Crowe—so confident, so carefree—talking about sharing his life with someone as if it was the simplest thing in the world. 

And yet, for you, the very idea felt impossible, like a weight pressing down on something fragile inside you. 

You forced a small, humorless laugh, hoping it masked the way your pulse quickened. “You make it sound so simple,” you said, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “Like finding the right person is just another thing to check off the list.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow at your tone, but his smile didn’t waver. If anything, it softened. “It’s not simple,” he said quietly. “But I think it’s worth it. Don’t you?” 

The question hung between you, heavy and unspoken, as if he were asking something far deeper than his words implied. And for the briefest moment, you wondered if he already knew your answer.

It was like you were looking at something through a window that you couldn’t reach—this whole world of connections, of intimacy, of people who could be close to you in ways that didn’t make sense to you. Maybe that was the problem. 

You didn’t really get it. 

You didn’t need it.

You let out a breath, trying to steady yourself, and forced your attention back to the work in front of you. “I don’t know about that,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “I think I’d rather focus on things that I can actually control.”

There was a brief pause as Crowe looked at you, his gaze shifting. You could see the curiosity flicker across his face, but he didn’t press. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Like your thesis?” he asked, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

You nodded quickly, relieved that the conversation was shifting to familiar ground. “Yeah,” you said, a little more briskly than you meant to. “I’m thinking about neuropsychology—studying the effects of plants on the brain. There’s so much to dive into. I’ll be swamped for a while.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the shift in topic. “Sounds intense. You sure you’re okay with taking on that much work?” He was leaning forward now, his tone lighter but with an edge of concern.

You offered a quick smile, trying to hide the irritation that lingered beneath the surface. “Yeah. I can handle it. Besides, it’s something to keep me occupied, right?” The words came out a little too dismissive, a little too defensive. 

But you weren’t about to admit that you were irritated—especially not to him.

Crowe nodded, but there was something unreadable in his expression as he pulled back, falling into a more relaxed posture. He didn’t seem to press the issue further, and the silence between you grew. 

It wasn’t the comfortable silence that usually settled over the two of you; instead, it was filled with strange tension. That was the last conversation you’d had. Since then, the silence had stretched on, thick and unyielding.

Crowe stared down at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He'd sent you another message—another question, another attempt to bridge the gap. The usual routine had gone on for two weeks now: he'd reach out, you’d read it, and leave him on read. No replies. Nothing.

Crowe: We need to talk.

He stared at the text, as the three little dots appeared and disappeared, signaling that you'd seen it but hadn’t bothered to respond.

This time, something felt different.

The pit in his stomach had grown heavier, gnawing at him with each unread message that followed. We need to talk was simple enough. He wasn’t expecting an essay, just a sign of life. He’d gotten used to the silence, but now it was starting to feel like something was seriously wrong.

Each message, each time he saw you’d opened it but not replied, made him worry more. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. What happened? Why weren’t you talking to him?

Crowe: Please, just let me know you’re okay.

That message had been sent hours ago. And yet, still nothing. He stared at his phone in disbelief as his frustration built, a mixture of concern and something else he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was fear. Fear of whatever was keeping you away from him.

He had tried everything. Texts. Calls. Even showing up at your usual spots: the library, the cafe, your dorm. Every time, nothing. Your absence was unsettling, but the worst part? The silence that surrounded him, like you were intentionally shutting him out.

Crowe sat in the student council room, reviewing papers, His phone buzzed again, but it wasn’t from you. It was from Brittney.

Britt: Still nothing? You’ve been trying for days. You okay?

He rubbed his temples, rereading the message. No. I’m not okay. I need to figure this out.

Crowe’s mind raced as he trudged across campus, his pace uneven, his steps quick and deliberate. The cool evening air bit at his skin, but the sting was nothing compared to the ache of frustration twisting in his chest. 

For two weeks now, his messages had gone unanswered—a deafening silence where there used to be light and warmth. Each time he saw that familiar “read” receipt pop up without a reply, it hit him like a sucker punch, leaving him reeling in confusion and hurt.  

He couldn’t piece together what had gone wrong. What had he said? What had he done? It felt like you’d vanished behind an invisible wall, one he didn’t know how to break down. He clenched his fists as he replayed the situation over and over, searching for clues he might have missed.  

Crowe: I’m worried about you. Please respond.

His messages were a litany of concern, a trail of breadcrumbs leading back to his growing desperation. The most recent ones hadn’t even been opened. That unread status haunted him, the silence stretching out between you like a thick fog, impenetrable and cold.  

He left the campus library, his latest attempt to find you failing. His bag felt unnaturally heavy, burdened by more than just books. Instead of heading straight to the bus stop, his feet carried him toward the campus greenhouse—a detour he often took when his mind felt too crowded. 

The greenhouse was typically locked this late, reserved only for students with keys. Yet when he tested the handle, it gave way. His pulse quickened as he slipped inside, pausing just long enough to turn the lock behind him.

The quiet click echoed in the humid, earthy air as if sealing him in with the weight of his thoughts.

The rich scent of soil and greenery enveloped him, mingling with the faint sweetness of blooming flowers. Rows of plants stretched before him, neatly arranged under the muted glow of hanging grow lights. Dew clung to leaves, sparkling faintly in the dim light, while vines traced languid patterns along wooden trellises. The indoor greenhouse was alive in its quiet way, untouched by the busy outside world.

He moved cautiously down the tiled paths, the soft rhythm of his footsteps blending with the distant hum of machinery and the occasional drip of water. The tranquility should have been soothing, but tonight it felt oppressive, amplifying the ache that had settled in his chest. 

This had been your sanctuary once. He could still picture you here—curled up on a bench, book in hand, the golden light casting a soft glow over your features. You had always seemed at home among the plants, as though the gentle stillness of the greenhouse mirrored something deep within you. 

But it had been two weeks now. 

Two weeks of searching, of hoping, of finding only emptiness where you used to be. Each familiar corner he passed seemed to taunt him with your absence, the memory of you lingering like the faint, fading scent of flowers.

Crowe sighed, ready to turn back, when a soft sound broke through the stillness. Footsteps. Light, deliberate, almost hesitant.  

His heart jumped, a flicker of hope sparking as he turned—and there you were.  

You stood near the far wall, surrounded by rows of delicate plants, their green tendrils climbing along lattices like silent witnesses. Your back was to him, your posture slightly hunched as you scribbled something in a small notebook. The sight of you, after weeks of absence, stopped him in his tracks.  

You weren’t the picture of confidence he was used to—sharp-eyed and self-assured, quick with a remark or an unshakable glance. Instead, there was a fragility in the way you stood, as if the weight of something unseen pressed heavily on your shoulders. Your usual energy seemed dimmed, your movements slower, your presence quieter.  

He froze, his throat tightening. The relief of seeing you mingled with an ache he couldn’t name. He’d imagined this moment so many times, playing out conversations in his mind, planning what he’d say. But now that you were here, just a few steps away, he felt unmoored.  

The silence stretched between you, thick and uncertain. He wanted to call out to you, to say your name, but the words lodged in his throat. He wanted to reach out, but something in your demeanor held him back—something almost sacred in your solitude.  

Then, as if sensing his gaze, you turned your head slightly, just enough for your eyes to meet his. For a moment, the world stopped.  

Your expression was unreadable, but your eyes told him everything. They looked tired, shadowed with a weight you hadn’t shared, a depth of exhaustion that even your usual composure couldn’t mask. There was an emptiness there, a hollow ache that mirrored the one in his chest.  

Crowe opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. He could only stand there, caught in the stillness of the moment, hoping you wouldn’t disappear again.  

Here’s the revised version:  

“Crowe…” You called out, your voice tinged with surprise and a hint of weariness. Your widened eyes betrayed a subtle attempt to mask the dark circles beneath them. “Hey! I haven’t seen you in forever…” Your words tapered off as your attention shifted to a nearby potted plant. Lifting it delicately, you turned it in your hands, inspecting its leaves. “I’ve been busy—almost done with my bio project,” you added, a faint glimmer of pride flickering in your tone.  

Crowe stepped closer, his gaze narrowing with concern. “What? I thought you were focusing on stuff for your major,” he said, crossing his arms as he watched you.  

“I am,” you replied matter-of-factly, not looking at him as you set the plant down and moved to the next one. “If I can show the professor my research and notes, I might have a shot at getting into the advanced program.”  

Crowe’s frown deepened as he trailed behind you through the rows of greenery. “So this is what you’ve been up to? Holing yourself up in the greenhouse since the last time we hung out?”  

“Pretty much,” you said without missing a beat, brushing your fingers over the delicate leaves of another plant. “It’s amazing in here. Did you know some plants can grow perfectly well without direct sunlight?” The question left your lips effortlessly, your voice infused with an enthusiasm Crowe hadn’t heard in a while.  

The greenhouse air was thick and humid, imbued with the earthy scent of soil and vegetation. Rows of plants, thriving in various stages of growth, surrounded you both, their shadows shifting under the soft glow of artificial grow lights. The hum of machinery underscored the space, a quiet reminder of the technology keeping this verdant haven alive.  

As you wandered deeper, Crowe’s eyes scanned the surroundings until something caught his attention—a small corner transformed into a makeshift workstation. Papers were strewn across the desk, dense with notes and diagrams. A microscope occupied one corner, and a row of glass beakers filled with vibrant liquids gleamed under the lights.  

Nearby, a neatly folded blanket rested and pillow on a couch alongside a half-empty thermos and an open textbook. Crowe stopped in his tracks, realization hitting him. “Wait… have you been sleeping here?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.  

You paused for a moment, glancing back at him. “Only when I need to finish something urgent, it’s only been one night,” you said defensively, turning back to your work.  

Crowe was filled with concern as he watched you move with quiet determination. His voice softened, almost pleading. “You need to take a break, you know. You can’t keep running on fumes like this.”

You didn’t look up, your focus fixed on a delicate orchid in need of pruning. “I’m fine, Crowe,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the back of your hand. Your voice was calm, but the tightness in your posture betrayed you. “I just need to finish this. The professor trusted me with the key while she was on vacation. She wanted me to keep an eye on the plants, so I need to take advantage of the time.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, glancing around the space. “Really? This room?”  

“It’s an indoor greenhouse,” you corrected, leaning over the desk to jot something in a notebook. Your tone was matter-of-fact, but Crowe’s sigh carried the weight of words unsaid.  

“What did I do wrong?” he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You froze mid-sentence, pen hovering over the page. Slowly, you turned to face him, guilt flickering in your eyes like the max-out lamp on the desk beside you. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow even as you spoke them.

Crowe stepped closer, the wooden floor creaking faintly beneath his shoes. “Then why does it feel like I did? Did I offend you somehow?”  

“No,” you said quickly, your gaze darting away.  

He pressed on, his voice firm but not unkind. “Then what is it? What’s going on with you?”

“I told you, nothing,” you snapped, irritation creeping into your tone as you turned back to your open notebook, pretending to be absorbed in its pages.

Crowe’s frown deepened. “Nothing?” he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Right now, it feels like you’d rather talk to these plants than me.”

You straightened, finally meeting his gaze with a sharp look. “I didn’t say that—”

He cut you off, his frustration spilling over. “You’ve been locked away in this room—”

“Indoor greenhouse,” you interrupted a touch of defensiveness in your voice.

“Fine. Indoor greenhouse,” he shot back. “While I’ve been searching for you all over campus, worried out of my mind. Do you have any idea what went through my head? I thought something had happened to you. I was this close to filing a missing person report—hell, I almost called the police.”

His words landed heavily, the rawness in his voice stopping you in your tracks.  

“Why?” you asked, barely above a whisper.  

“What do you mean why?” he countered, his confusion evident.

“Why do you care?” Your voice cracked slightly, though you tried to mask it with a pointed edge. “I’m perfectly fine, Crowe. Or should I say Jericho Ichabod—known for being a pain in the ass who doesn’t know when to leave me alone…”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze as silence settled between you like a heavy fog. For a moment, all that filled the room was the rhythmic drip of condensation falling onto a metal tray, a haunting reminder of the tension lingering between you both.

Crowe’s jaw tightened, his silhouette imposing against the faint glow of the lamp. Yet his eyes, usually so sharp and unreadable, softened with an intensity that made your heartache. “I care,” he said quietly, each word deliberate and weighted with emotion. “Because you matter to me. More than you seem to realize.”

The words hit you like a jolt, your hand instinctively seeking the edge of the desk for support. The rhythm of your hands tending to the plants—the careful snip of pruning shears, the gentle brushing of leaves—had always been your refuge, your shield. Now, it felt paper-thin against the storm of emotions his words unleashed. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, not yet.

 Instead, you turned back to the orchid in front of you, its delicate white petals trembling faintly in the stagnant air. Perhaps its quiet, fragile beauty could offer you the clarity you desperately needed.

"Okay. You found me. Now you can leave. Satisfied?" Your voice was firm, but the undercurrent of vulnerability was unmistakable.

Crowe didn’t flinch at your sharpness. Instead, he took a measured step closer, his gaze never wavering. He could see through you—through the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers gripped the desk’s edge as if it could anchor you, and the faint tremor in your voice. Every detail told him more than your words ever could.

“Don’t push me away,” he said, his tone resolute as he closed the distance between you. There was no room for argument in his voice, no hesitation in his movements.

You let out an exasperated sigh, your free hand rising to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” you muttered, exhaustion creeping into your voice. 

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” you snapped, the frustration breaking through as your body trembled faintly from a volatile mix of fear, fatigue, and something you didn’t want to name. Your gaze locked on him, irritation sparking in your eyes, but only for a moment. Something softened—just enough for him to catch it.

Crowe’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the change, no matter how subtle. He was used to your fiery tone, your biting words, and the walls you built so meticulously. But this? This was different. There was a crack in your armor, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before—or maybe hadn’t allowed himself to see.

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ve always been good at reading you. I was just too stubborn to notice.”

A scoff escaped your lips, and you tried to glare at him, but the sight of his infuriatingly smug smirk only fueled your irritation. “Oh, spare me that look,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you turned back to the potted plant. “You sound so cocky right now. It’s irritating, you know that, right?”

Crowe let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing just slightly though the tension lingered in his stance. Despite the sharpness of your words, his expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability betraying his resolve. His gaze held yours, unwavering and searching. “What’s irritating,” he began, his voice low and threaded with something almost pleading, “is how you bury yourself in these plants and shut everyone out.” 

His eyes flicked toward the sprawling greenery that surrounded you as if accusing them of stealing your attention. “You’d rather lose yourself in them than face what’s right in front of you.” 

The weight of his words hung in the air, but you refused to let them settle. Your instinct was to flee, to escape the tightening web of emotions he was weaving. Turning slightly, you made a move to step away, your eyes darting toward the shelves of plants that lined the room, hoping for some distraction to anchor you. 

But Crowe was quicker. 

With a sudden, fluid motion, he shifted into your path, his body a deliberate barrier, solid and immovable. The swiftness of his actions left you no room to maneuver. You took a reflexive step back, only to feel the cold edge of the desk press into your lower back. 

Crowe loomed closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity. His hands came down on either side of you, palms flat against the desk, framing you with an authority that made escape impossible. The subtle tension in his arms betrayed his restraint, his effort to control the storm beneath his calm exterior. His proximity brought the faint scent of rain and earth, grounding and disarming all at once. His breath was steady, but the fire in his eyes made your pulse quicken.

“Stop walking away from me,” he said, his voice quiet but unyielding. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat of his presence wrapping around you like a vice. 

Your heart pounded as you met his gaze, the storm in his eyes mirroring your own. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” you whispered, though the words lacked conviction. 

“Because you matter,” he said again, softer this time but no less intense. "And I'm not going anywhere until you believe it."

“I do not want you.” Your voice was sharp, trembling with restrained anger. “Just leave, please.” 

You stood firm, glaring at Crowe, yet your body betrayed your nerves—hands clenched into fists, nails biting into your palms. He remained rooted in place, his tall frame looming over you, the dim light casting sharp angles across his face. His presence was suffocating, an immovable barrier that trapped you against the desk behind you. 

“No. I will not. Please, just talk to me,” Crowe’s voice was low but resolute, carrying the weight of someone who wasn’t going to let this moment slip away. His tone was steady, like a calm storm brewing beneath the surface. “Whatever it is… you don’t have to hide it from me. I’m here for you.”

The sincerity in his words made your breath hitch, your carefully built walls trembling under the force of his presence. You took a shaky breath, your resolve faltering. “Jericho—”

He cut you off, moving closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can’t just force me away,” he said firmly, his tone unwavering. The distance between you seemed to vanish in an instant, and his proximity felt suffocating, but not in the way you expected. It wasn’t fear or frustration—it was the sharp, overwhelming realization that he saw through you. 

Your lips parted, searching for words that refused to come. “Please, Jericho,” you murmured, your voice breaking as the tension between you coiled tighter, threatening to snap. 

He leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate and careful, as though he knew he was treading on fragile ground. His head dipped until his face was only inches from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and his gaze burned with a fierce determination that left you feeling utterly exposed, as though every unspoken thought and hidden feeling you harbored was now laid bare before him. 

“I won’t let you push me away,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with steel. His hand rose, hesitating for a moment before brushing against your cheek, his touch featherlight. His fingers trailed along your jawline with a gentleness that sent a shiver through you. It wasn’t just his touch—it was the way he looked at you like he was piecing together something he had only just started to understand.

Your instinct was to retreat, to shut him out like you always had, but you couldn’t move. You were caught, your body betraying you as your heart raced and your mind screamed at you to say something. 

“I’m far too busy for this—” you stammered, grasping at the only excuse you could find. But even as the words left your lips, you knew how weak they sounded, how unconvincing. They were a shield made of glass, and Crowe saw straight through it.  

His expression softened, but his determination remained unshaken. “Do you love me?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet but cutting through the air like a knife. The question left you frozen, your chest tightening as if the world had stopped spinning.  

You stared at him, your mind racing, but there was nowhere to hide. His gaze held yours, unyielding, and in that moment, you knew he had already figured it out. 

He wasn’t asking because he didn’t know—he was asking because he wanted you to say it.  

“Jericho…” you whispered, his name barely audible as it escaped your lips. You tried to look away, but his hand cupped your cheek gently, guiding you back to face him. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he said softly, his tone impossibly tender, but there was a gravity to his words that made your throat tighten. “I need to hear it. From you.” 

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his question suffocating yet electrifying. And as you stared into his eyes, so full of quiet intensity, you realized there was no way out—only through.

He was so close, too close.

The warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver coursing through your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His voice, low and edged with a weight you couldn’t quite place, wrapped around you, constricting your thoughts. The question hung in the air like a thunderclap, reverberating in the space between you and him, stealing the breath from your lungs.  

The indoor greenhouse seemed to shrink, the walls pressing inward as the gravity of his words settled over you. Your heart stuttered, then raced, pounding against your ribs with a force that made your chest ache. The air grew dense, thick with the kind of tension that threatened to pull you under, to drown you in its unrelenting grasp.  

"That's—why would—How—" The words stumbled out of you, clumsy and fractured, like they were trying to claw their way past the rising storm inside your mind. But they faltered, leaving you grasping at nothing, caught in a silence that felt deafening.  

You stared up at him, eyes wide and searching, your mind blank and racing all at once. You were frozen, caught like a deer in headlights, powerless under the weight of his gaze.  

“Jericho—” you started, but your voice faltered, barely a whisper, your plea cut short as his own words sliced through the air.  

“Do you love me?” he asked again, this time softer, yet somehow more insistent, like he was peeling back a layer of armor you didn’t realize you were wearing.  

The world seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you unsteady as his question echoed in your ears. Your breath hitched, catching somewhere in your throat as the air in your lungs grew impossibly thin. Your heart hammered wildly, a chaotic rhythm that you were certain he could feel in the charged space between you.  

You wanted to look away, to break free from the intensity of his gaze, but you couldn’t. His eyes held you captive, locking you in place, stripping you bare of pretense, and leaving you exposed. The words trembled on the edge of your lips, aching to escape, but you pressed them back, swallowing them down with a trembling resolve.  

Not yet. Not now. 

Not when you weren’t even sure yourself.  

"Jericho, please stop." The words fell from your lips, fragile and unsteady, betraying the vulnerability you’d fought so hard to keep hidden. You hated how your voice trembled, how it quaked under the weight of your emotions.  

His expression shifted, the faintest flicker of hurt flashing across his features before his voice came, steady yet raw, cutting through the silence like a blade.  

“Is it because you don’t believe I can love you?” Crowe asked, his tone carrying quiet desperation, as though the question itself cost him something to voice.  The words hit you like a blow, unraveling the fragile threads of composure you’d clung to. His presence was suffocating, his question heavy with a truth you weren’t ready to confront.  

“Because I love you,” Crowe began, his voice trembling slightly, raw with sincerity. “I love you so much that I’ll do as you wish. If you don’t love me, all you have to do is say it. Say the words, and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll go home and pretend this never happened—for your sake, not mine. I will do that for you.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering. “But first, you have to say it. You have to tell me you don’t love me.”  

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, pressing against your chest like an unbearable burden.  

“You have to tell me I’m a horrible friend,” Crowe continued, his tone growing more desperate. “Call me out of my name, say anything to show you don’t love me. Please—just say it.”  

His plea echoed in the silence, raw and unfiltered. The two of you stood frozen, your eyes locked in an exchange that said more than words ever could.  

For a mere second, your gaze locked onto Crowe’s, your mind spiraling into chaos. Thoughts crashed and tangled in your head, an unrelenting storm you couldn’t silence. Your heart clenched, each agonizing beat echoing through your chest like a dull, relentless ache. Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill, blurring your vision. But they couldn’t obscure the pain carved into his face—the rawness, the unguarded ache that mirrored your own.  

Your throat tightened as emotions warred within you. You wanted to shout at him—to scream that he was a fool, reckless and naïve for loving you, for entrusting his heart so willingly into hands you weren’t sure could hold it. A bitter part of you itched to turn and walk away, to put an insurmountable distance between you, to bury this moment so deeply in your memory that it would never have the power to resurface.  

And yet... his face. That look.  

It stopped you cold.  

His dark skin seemed to glow under the dim light, his deep blue eyes shimmering with an unspoken plea. The loose braid draped over his right shoulder swayed slightly as he shifted, and a few wayward strands framed his face, carelessly tucked behind his ear but now slipping free to shadow his gaze. He stood just inches from you, head tilted downward, his presence overwhelming in its intimacy.  

It shattered you.  

The vulnerability in his expression, the quiet desperation painted across his features, and the faint tremor in his breath pulled at you, unraveling every thought of escape. His hope, fragile yet unyielding, clung to you like a lifeline, binding your feet to the ground.  

Your hand rose instinctively, trembling as it hovered in the space between you. Hesitation held you captive for a moment longer before you closed the gap, your palm pressing gently against his chest.  

Beneath your touch, you felt it—his heart.  

It beat unevenly, a raw and unsteady rhythm, a testament to the weight of the moment. That rhythm echoed the truth of what he had laid bare before you, fragile and precious as if daring you to break it.  

And you, stood there, caught in a fragile silence, suspended between everything you wanted to say and everything you feared to admit. Your voice, when it came, was soft, fractured, barely more than a whisper. “...I can’t.”  

The words slipped from your lips, fragile and small, but they carried the weight of everything you couldn’t bring yourself to say.  

Crowe’s breath hitched, his entire frame trembling under your touch. The silence between you deepened, heavy with the unspoken truth, and the tears that finally spilled down your cheeks mirrored the storm raging inside you.

He took your trembling hand in his, his thumb brushing delicately over your knuckles in slow, comforting circles. The warmth of his touch was steady, but his heart hammered in his chest, betraying the calm façade he was trying to maintain. The words you had spoken hung heavy in the air, their weight pressing down on him.  

“…you can’t?” His voice was soft, and gentle, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment between you. Yet, there was a quiet desperation in his tone, an unspoken plea for clarity, for something to hold on to amidst the confusion.  

Your eyes fluttered shut, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. It burned with a mixture of pain, hope, and an emotion you couldn’t name—something you couldn’t allow yourself to name. Your entire body trembled, caught in a storm of emotions too overwhelming to contain.  

A shaky breath slipped past your lips, your chest rising and falling unevenly. Your free hand curled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching it as though it were the only thing anchoring you to reality. The weight of your unsaid words felt unbearable, pressing against your throat, yet when you finally spoke, your voice was no more than a whisper.  

“I’m not what you want,” you admitted, each word laced with anguish. “You don’t wish for a life with me. I see it in the way you look past me... in the things you don’t say.”  

His brows furrowed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The silence stretched between you, broken only by the unsteady rhythm of your breathing.  

“I didn’t care to tell you,” you continued, your voice trembling with raw emotion. “Where we were... what we’ve shared... it’s enough to show. Isn’t it?”  

Your grip on his shirt tightened as if holding on might keep your heart from breaking apart. “I don’t...” The words caught in your throat, suffocating you with their weight. You faltered, unable to finish. Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall, as the vulnerability you’d fought so hard to suppress came pouring through the cracks in your resolve.  

Crowe’s heart clenched painfully with every word you spoke, each syllable carving deep into his soul. The sight of you so conflicted, so hurt, was unbearable. It was as if the weight of your pain had reached out and wrapped itself around his chest, squeezing tightly until he could scarcely breathe. 

“That’s not true…” he said, his voice soft but unyielding. The gentle firmness of his tone carried a quiet desperation, a plea hidden beneath his words. His fingers reached out, trembling ever so slightly, as he cupped your chin. His touch was tender like he feared you might shatter under his hand. Slowly, he guided your gaze to meet his, needing you to see the depth of his sincerity. His own eyes, usually so steady, now brimmed with a mixture of determination and vulnerability.

“I do want a future with you,” he said, his voice cracking ever so faintly, betraying the storm of emotions swirling just beneath his carefully composed exterior. His hands trembled slightly, fingers curling into fists at his sides as if bracing himself against an unseen force. “I don’t care where we are, as long as it’s with you.”  

His gaze faltered for a heartbeat, his lashes lowering as he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. The weight of the words he was about to utter seemed to press down on him like an anchor, pulling him deeper into the vulnerability he had tried so hard to avoid. Lifting his eyes again, he locked onto yours with a piercing intensity, the oceanic blue depths searching your face for a flicker of reassurance, of hope, anything that might ease the ache of uncertainty in his chest.  

“But I need to know…” His voice cracked, trembling as if it might break under the weight of the question. “Do you want a future with me?”  

The air between you thickened, heavy with the tension of unspoken fears and fragile truths. For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Even the faint rustle of the wind outside stilled, as though the universe itself held its breath, waiting for your answer. His eyes—vulnerable, pleading—bore into yours, searching desperately for something he couldn’t bring himself to articulate. His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, a muscle feathering in his cheek, betraying the storm within.  

And then it broke.

“I do! I love you!” The words tore from you, raw and unrestrained, your voice shaking with the force of emotions you could no longer contain. Your hands flew to your face, trembling as tears spilled over your cheeks in hot, stinging rivers. Each tear carried the weight of all you had suppressed—the love too overwhelming to admit, the fear of losing him, the doubts you had wrestled with in the quiet hours of the night.  

Your chest heaved with each breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself as you took a trembling step closer. “I’ve always wanted to be with…” you sobbed, your voice cracking with the vulnerability you had fought so hard to keep hidden. The admission felt like tearing down walls you had spent years building, leaving you exposed, bare, and utterly honest.  

Crowe’s breath caught, his chest tightening at the sight of you unraveling. He gently cradled your face, his thumb brushing away the hot tears as they fell, his heart torn between elation and heartbreak. He’d longed to hear those words, but seeing you like this—so broken, so unsure—left him feeling utterly helpless.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in a fierce embrace. His arms wrapped around you like a shield, as if he could hold you together with sheer will alone. His lips pressed softly against your hair as he murmured, “I’m yours,” his voice steady now, “Always.”  

But your body stiffened against him, and you pushed him away, your touch hesitant, almost apologetic. The distance you forced between you felt like a knife twisting in his chest. 

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. The word was small and quiet, but it carried the weight of a storm. “I don’t want you here with me.” Your voice wavered, each word like glass splintering in your throat. “I… I’m not worth it, Jericho. I never was, and I never will be.”

You looked away, your hands trembling as you struggled to explain. “You and I… we’re too different. Your life—it’s so full of light. And me? I’m just… I’m a shadow. A burden. Every day, you’re so kind, and so patient, and I don’t know why. What do you even see in me? What do you want from me?”

Crowe’s heart broke into pieces at your words, the cracks spreading like ice on a frozen lake. His hands shot out to grip your arms firmly but gently, grounding you as he fought to steady his voice. 

“How can you say that?!” he exclaimed, his tone carrying a sharp edge of pain. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he searched your face, desperate to make you see what he saw. “You are worth everything to me! Everything.”

His grip tightened, not to restrain, but to hold you steady, as if he feared you might slip away entirely. “I don’t want anything from you. I never have. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath, trying to push down the swell of frustration and sadness that threatened to consume him. “Why do you think you’re a burden to me? Don’t you see? You’re not. You never were. You’re my world. And if I have to spend every single day proving that to you, I will. But please…” His voice softened, his forehead resting against yours. “Please don’t push me away.” 

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by his words, by the intensity of his gaze, by the unwavering devotion in his voice. 

For the first time, you let yourself feel the enormity of his love—a love that terrified you as much as it comforted you. "Stop it," you whispered, but your voice trembled, barely a breath against the thick air that seemed to surround you both. 

The tears came fast, hot, and uncontrollable, burning as they streaked down your face. You tried to pull away, to escape the overwhelming rush of emotions flooding you—emotions you couldn’t bear to face. 

Why was this happening? Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

You didn’t want to look at him anymore. The pain in your chest tightened, a suffocating weight that threatened to drown you. You didn't want to hear him confess how he felt, didn't want to let yourself believe for even a second that it could be real. You couldn’t afford to give yourself any false hope, not now. 

“It’s... I—” Your voice cracked, faltering as the words tangled in your throat. It was as if everything inside you was shattering, and no matter how hard you tried to hold it together, it all slipped through your fingers. 

You couldn’t think. 

You couldn’t breathe. 

And you couldn’t say what needed to be said, not when every part of you screamed to get away from him, to make him leave. Make him stop looking at you like that, as if you mattered as if you weren't just a burden.

He could see it in your eyes—the desperation, the fear, the overwhelming need to push him away. And yet, despite every effort you made, he didn’t understand. 

Why couldn’t you see?

He refused to let go of your arms, his grip tightening with a gentle yet unyielding force that pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed together in the most intimate way possible. He refused to let you turn away, refusing to let you hide from him.

“No,” he murmured, his voice soft but unwavering, searching your face, his eyes piercing through the walls you’d built around yourself. “Tell me, why do you think you’re a burden to me...?” His voice softened, yet there was a quiet strength in it as if he needed you to hear this, to understand that this wasn’t just about him—this was about you, too.

You fought desperately to keep the sobs from breaking free, but with each word he spoke, your resolve unraveled, crumbling into a thousand fragile pieces. It felt unfair—the rawness of what he was making you confront, the painful truths he was forcing you to voice, truths you’d hidden deep inside, locked away where no one could see them.

The weight of everything pressing down on you became too much, and the tears finally fell, unbidden and unchecked. They streaked down your face, each one like a silent confession, and the words that followed were sharp, jagged, and full of the hurt you’d buried for so long. 

"I...I’m always too much. I’m...I’m not enough... That’s all I’ve ever been."

He couldn’t understand why you believed it—why you thought you were too much when all he saw was someone who was everything. But the anguish in your voice told him this was no simple admission; this was a revelation, raw and real. Without hesitation, he pulled you closer, his arms unyielding, encircling you in a protective embrace. His chest pressed against your trembling body, his warmth a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside.

"You’re never too much," he said, his voice thick with conviction, with a fire that burned through the pain. "You’re always more than enough."

He rested his chin on your head, the words settling between you both like a fragile promise, as he felt the weight of your tears soaking into his shirt, your body shaking with the intensity of your emotions. 

In his arms, you felt exposed, your vulnerability laid bare in a way that terrified you. Every tremor in your body was a reminder of how small and helpless you felt, and it made you want to pull away. But Crowe held you tight, his embrace a lifeline that both soothed and shattered your heart.

You buried your face against his chest, unable to stop the flood of emotion, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke through your tears.

"You’re an idiot," you choked out, your words soaked in sorrow, self-doubt, and shame. 

Crowe let out a soft, almost tender chuckle, his fingers gently threading through your hair as he held you even closer. "Maybe I am an idiot," he murmured, the weight of your pain heavy in his words. "But I’m an idiot in love with you."

His confession hung in the air, and your heart skipped, the words reverberating in your mind like a distant echo, soft and haunting. 

In love with you...

It was a truth that seemed too unreal to accept, but your heart fluttered painfully in your chest, trapped by the weight of it. It felt as though it were desperately trying to break free, like a bird clawing at the bars of its cage, yearning to take flight but held back by everything you’d ever believed about yourself.

And yet, in his arms, something shifted. The ache didn’t vanish, but it softened, mingling with a strange, bittersweet warmth—hope and despair tangled together, impossible to untangle.

With a shuddering breath, you clung to Crowe, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for some tangible connection that would ground you, that would prove the words he spoke were more than just fleeting assurances. You needed to believe them, to feel the truth in them like a lifeline, even if every part of you doubted your worth.

"Why…?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as the vulnerability in your tone betrayed the fortress you’d built around your emotions. It quivered, heavy with a question you had long tried to suppress. "Why are you even in love with me...?"  

The air seemed to hold its breath.  

He didn’t hesitate, not for a second. His response wasn’t in words—at least, not at first. Instead, it was in the way his hands slid with unspoken reverence along your thighs, warm and deliberate, his touch leaving a trail of electricity that ignited every nerve in its path. His fingers curled slightly, anchoring you to him, as if you might disappear if he let go.  

He leaned in closer—closer than you thought possible, his movements smooth and deliberate, as though every inch he bridged between you had been planned in his mind a thousand times before. The faintest brush of his breath ghosted against your cheek, and then your lips, leaving you breathless before he even touched you.  

With a soft but insistent motion, he lifted you onto the edge of the desk, the cool surface grounding you amidst the rising storm inside. His hands remained steady, one firm at the curve of your waist, the other lingering on your thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles that felt almost reverent. The act wasn’t rushed, nor hesitant—it was as though he were grounding himself, tethering both of you in this shared moment.  

Your faces aligned, the closeness so profound you could see every detail in his expression—the way his eyes held yours, unwavering, filled with something raw and consuming. That intensity rooted you in place, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with the weight of his longing.  

"Because," he finally murmured, his voice low and full of conviction, "loving you isn’t a choice. It’s like breathing—unconscious, instinctual, something I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to."  

The words hit you like a tidal wave, and as his lips hovered millimeters from yours, “There are so many reasons I love you..." His voice was soft, a low murmur that seemed to echo in the silence between you. 

His sincerity cut through the space, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. "You're so kind, so gentle... even the parts of you try to hide from everyone else."

Your chest tightened, every word he spoke seemed to reach deeper, stripping away the layers of doubt and fear you had built up over the years. But there was more—there was so much more that you weren’t prepared to hear.

He paused, his breath catching, and for a moment, it seemed like the weight of his emotions almost took him off guard. He exhaled slowly, his words coming out, "You're beautiful, smart, strong... and," he hesitated for a beat, the vulnerability in his eyes making your heartache. "From the moment I saw you trying to protect yourself, even when it looked like everything was going against you... when those guys tried to hurt you, and I ran in, only to get beat up myself—but the way you smiled after... after you had avoided me for so long... I realized then that I had fallen for you. Desperately. I love you more than I can say."

His confession knocked the breath from your lungs. Your heart stuttered in your chest, your mind reeling with the intensity of his words. He had seen that moment—the one you thought you could bury forever. The moment when you’d been cornered, vulnerable, and yet, somehow, you found the courage to stand your ground. 

He had seen it all, no matter how long you avoid him, and still, he loves you. 

Tears welled in your eyes, but they fell freely now, no longer hidden behind the walls you’d spent so long building. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, the emotional tidal wave crashing through you, leaving you breathless. Your hands remained clutching his shirt as if letting go would mean losing this feeling, this unspoken truth you didn’t know you needed.

"And my heart calls for your name. Every day…" you mumbled, your voice trembling under the weight of emotions you’d tried to suppress for what felt like forever. "No matter how many times I tried to stop it, it didn’t listen to me."

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as it met yours, though worry flickered at the edges. His lips curled into that familiar, dumb smile, the one that always seemed to deflect his deeper emotions. But his voice betrayed him, low and tinged with a concern that sent your stomach into knots. "If that's true, then why have you been avoiding me?"

The space between you was electric, the kind of silence that pulled at your chest, threatening to unravel you completely. You bit your lip, hesitating as your fingers brushed against the leaves of a nearby plant—something to ground you amidst the chaos inside. When you finally spoke, the words barely rose above the suffocating warmth of the greenhouse. "I didn’t know what to say."

His brows drew together, his smile faltering into something more genuine, more raw. "What do you mean? You’ve never had trouble talking to me before," he said, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that made your chest ache.

You shook your head slowly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze this time, even though it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. "It’s different now," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

Crowe’s eyes searched yours, desperate to understand. "What’s different?" 

You took a shaky breath, the humid air thick in your lungs as though the weight of the moment mirrored the dense foliage surrounding you. His presence was overwhelming—the faint scent of his cologne, the way his fingers fidgeted as if resisting the urge to reach out to you. 

It all only made it harder to speak, but you forced the words out anyway, your voice fragile, each syllable trembling with the weight of unspoken truths.

"Because I…" you began, swallowing hard. "I don’t want to put you in a position where you feel like you owe me something. You’ve always been so… you. Full of ambition, full of drive, building these milestones for yourself that are so much bigger than anything I could ever imagine for me. I don’t want to… I don’t want to be something you’re burdened by." The confession tumbled out like rocks, sharp and heavy, scraping against your throat.

Crowe’s eyes softened, his dumb smile fading into something far more sincere. "A burden?" he echoed, as though the very thought was absurd. Slowly, he reached out, his hand hovering for just a moment before brushing against yours. "You think… that’s what you are to me?"

You shook your head quickly, even as your eyes burned with the threat of tears. "I’m scared, Crowe. Scared that one day, you’ll look at me and realize you deserve someone who doesn’t second-guess everything. Someone who can keep up with you."

He leaned even closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours. "You don’t get it, do you?" he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "Every time I look at you, I don’t see a burden. I see someone I want to protect, someone I want to be around. Even when you overwork yourself, even when you’re too hard on yourself—hell, especially then."

His words made your chest tighten, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. "But why? Why do you care so much? I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve that."

Crowe chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief, and that dumb, lopsided smile returned. "You don’t have to do anything to deserve it. It’s just you. And you’re worth every second of it."

You swallowed hard, his words sinking into your chest like a stone dropped into deep water. His gaze never wavered, holding you captive in its intensity. Slowly, he stepped closer, each movement deliberate, as if he were drawn by an unseen force he could no longer resist. His hand, strong and steady, found yours, his fingers curling fully around your own in a gesture so simple yet so profound. 

“And for the record,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air between you, “you’re the reason I’ve been able to keep going. So stop thinking I’m looking out for you because I feel like I have to. I’m looking out for you because…” His words trailed off for a heartbeat, his breath brushing your skin, before he finished with a raw vulnerability that left no room for doubt. “...you’re my reason.”

The world seemed to pause, the weight of his confession pressing against you like the tide before it crashed to shore. 

You barely had time to process it before he closed the remaining distance. His lips met yours in a rush of fervent need and quiet tenderness, a perfect contradiction that stole the breath from your lungs. The kiss was a confession in itself, fierce in its certainty yet impossibly gentle, as though he feared you might slip away if he wasn’t careful. 

His hands moved, one sliding up to cup the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, the other resting firmly at the small of your back, pulling you closer still. His touch was unyielding yet reverent like a vow made flesh. In that instant, all the doubts and fears you’d carried crumbled, falling away like ash in the wind. 

His kiss whispered truths your heart had longed to believe: that you were wanted, needed—not out of duty or pity, but for exactly who you were.

When the kiss finally broke, it wasn’t an ending but a breath—a moment to steady the hurricane of emotions swirling between you. Your lips tingled, your skin alight with the memory of his touch, and your heart felt as if it might burst from the sheer intensity of it all. A laugh bubbled up unbidden, light, and full of wonder, even as tears clung to your lashes, threatening to spill. This time, they weren’t born of sadness but of something brighter, fuller, more beautiful than words could hold.

Crowe’s forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space you now shared. His eyes searched yours, unguarded, their depths brimming with affection so profound it made your chest ache. 

You closed your eyes, allowing the warmth of his presence to wash over you, grounding you, anchoring you. “I wanted to tell you that I was afraid... afraid of being rejected,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice shaky but full of truth. “But I still wanted you to know." The words felt like a release, as though admitting them was finally freeing you from the weight that had been so familiar. 

“This... this burden, of never feeling perfect enough... it’s been with me my whole life.” The words escaped in a near whisper, barely audible, but Crowe caught them. He stood so close that his presence felt like a storm, powerful and inescapable, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place.

His hand lifted with deliberate slowness as if savoring the space between you before his fingers brushed against your cheek. The warmth of his touch was gentle but firm, commanding your attention in a way that made your heart stutter. 

He tilted your chin upward, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw as his eyes locked with yours.  

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, vibrating with an emotion that reached into your very core. You couldn’t look away, trapped by the sincerity and hunger that burned in his deep blue eyes. “You’re perfect to me. All of you—the fears, the flaws, the cracks you think make you weak. They’re everything I want. Everything I need.”

Your lips parted, the protest forming on your tongue—words meant to warn him, to remind him of the risks of being with you—but they never found the air. He leaned in, his forehead just brushing yours, his breath warm and intoxicating as his lips hovered over yours.  

“…The door’s locked,” he whispered, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth, “and there aren’t any cameras in here. No one’s going to interrupt us.”  

The promise in his words hung heavy, a shield against the world outside. But his nearness, his unrelenting presence, stole the air from your lungs. His lips found your neck with an aching tenderness, trailing a line of fire across your skin that left you trembling. His hands slid to your waist, unyielding, guiding you backward until the desk’s edge pressed against the backs of your thighs.  

“Crowe,” you breathed, your hands resting against his chest, trembling in the heat of the moment, a last, fragile barrier against the pull between you. “We can’t—”

He cut you off with a kiss, gentle at first, teasing, as if tasting the hesitation in your words. His lips were soft, coaxing, but with a hunger that grew the instant your resistance faltered. The kiss deepened, and the world seemed to tilt, the gravity of him drawing you in with an undeniable force. 

When he finally pulled back, his lips brushing against yours with each word, his voice was a low, quiet storm, vibrating through your senses.

“We can,” he whispered, his breath warm and intoxicating against your skin. His hands moved to your hips, firm and confident, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. His movements were fluid, a control that felt almost predatory, but also purposeful, as if he knew exactly what you needed before you did. 

"Just this once, please—let me show you," he murmured, his words a promise, a challenge. His tone was unwavering, leaving no room for doubt. 

He carried you, each step deliberate, each movement smooth and unhurried, like a predator securing its prey—except this felt different. This wasn’t a conquest; it was an invitation, of surrender and longing. As he set you down on the couch, the soft cushion beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, the tension that radiated off him like an electric charge.

You leaned back into the plush fabric, the weight of his presence pressing against your senses, his fingers moving with practiced precision, undoing the buttons of his vest one by one, each motion slow, deliberate. He let the clothing fall to the floor, the sound of it landing barely audible over the pounding of your heart. 

The air between you thickened with anticipation, the pull between you undeniable, each movement a promise, a slow unraveling of everything you had thought was impossible. And yet, here you were, caught in the storm of him, your breath quickening, the crowd of your desires finally, relentlessly, yearning for his touch.

The sound of his long-sleeved shirt buttons coming undone echoed in the stillness of the greenhouse, each one a deliberate step toward vulnerability. His shirt hung open, revealing the faint lines of muscle and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He stood before you, unguarded, his raw vulnerability on display.

His gaze bore into yours, dark and intense, as if every unspoken word between you had finally come to life. "You don't know how long I've dreamed of this," Crowe murmured, his voice thick with yearning, each syllable laced with a deep hunger for the moment that had been building between you both. "To be here with you, to love you without restraint—no games, no walls, just this, just us."

The weight of his words washed over you, the raw emotion in his voice striking a chord deep within. You could feel the air crackling with something undeniable, something that had been brewing for longer than either of you had admitted. His proximity, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, made it hard to breathe. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, every beat erratic, every second stretching between the two of you.

His lips crashed against yours once more, but this time it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a release. Each movement, every brush of his lips against yours, was a confession, a surrender of everything he had kept locked away. His mouth moved with a fervor that left you breathless, as though he was desperate to pour out everything he had been holding inside. 

His hand slid slowly up your thigh, warm and sure, sending an electric shock through your body. The touch was both possessive and gentle as if he was claiming you yet cherishing you all at once. He shifted slightly, tilting you back with an ease that made your pulse spike, deepening the kiss further, and pushing you to the edge of your control.

A sharp breath left your lips, your hands trembling as you placed them against his chest, trying to regain some semblance of space. "Crowe, we can't do this here," you whispered urgently, voice barely audible, but filled with a tension that threatened to break. You attempted to pull his hand away, but his grip only tightened, firm and unwavering, pulling you closer.

His eyes locked onto yours darkened with desire, yet there was something else there—a rawness, a vulnerability that you hadn't seen before. 

"Don’t move," he commanded softly, yet there was a quiet power in his voice that made your heart race even more. His touch never faltered, never wavered. "Not now. Not when I’ve waited so long for you to say the truth.”

The weight of his words, coupled with the heat of his body against yours, held you in place—trapped, but not unwilling. Every inch of you ached with the yearning he had revealed, the long-suppressed need to be close to you, to love you, to finally let go of everything that had kept him distant.

His forehead rested softly against yours, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine as it brushed against your lips. Your senses were overwhelmed by the moment, your gaze drifting downward as the dim, ethereal light of the indoor greenhouse wrapped around him like a cloak. 

Shadows danced across his dark brown skin, accentuating the depth of his features, and his deep blue eyes held you in an almost hypnotic gaze. His hair had come loose from its braid, falling around his face with a carefree messiness that made his presence feel all the more magnetic. 

The undone buttons of his shirt revealed just enough of his toned chest, the closeness between you thick with an unspoken intensity.

His eyes briefly flicked down to your legs, lingering for a moment before he returned to meet your gaze. Without a word, he moved closer, gently parting your legs with a subtle gesture that spoke volumes of his intention. 

"For you to not feel like a burden," he whispered, his voice a soft blend of desire and reassurance, "I need to show you, don't I?"

The words lingered between you, charged with emotion as he moved even closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that made your heart race. 

"After tonight," he continued, his voice steady yet tender, "you'll never feel like that again."

His words, though simple, held a weight that made your breath catch, a quiet vow to erase every doubt and every insecurity that had ever haunted you.

· · ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[takes1]

p.2 asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

this is gonna get so fucking good ya'll i love thisss!! it's fun writing this sweet guy be a little dirty lmao

warnings. nsfw. minors DNI info. nsfw / build-up to more smut / phone sex / mutual masturbation / blue balls / suggestive conversation / gentle giant!asahi / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / long-mid distance issues / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 2.3k words / multipart series so reply to be added to taglist! haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part three here. final part here. more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

Your pencil twirled, tap-tap-tapping against your half-filled page of notes as you searched for the next header to copy for this dreadful, draining history class.

Anything to distract you from the fact that he hadn't called you.

The game was Tuesday- now it was Friday evening, and still, no word from him. Maybe you had something in your teeth when you spoke to him, or you smelled bad, or he just didn't like your hair. You had dedicated hours trying to figure it out.

A phone call was hard evidence he was interested in you. Practically a 'yes' to your fantasies, which had only gotten more unhinged with the hurt of this perceived rejection.

He still remained just a few minutes worth of your real energy on some ordinary day. But God, how you mourned for what could've been. How he would've filled you up, wrecking you with the satisfaction and excitement you yearned for.

buzz buzz. buzz buzz. buzz buzz. buzz buzz.

The sound initially deepened your already lackluster mood, because you learned to be disappointed with every call that wasn't from a Miyagi area code.

You were grateful that your eyes happened to glaze over the screen before you completed the swipe to ignore it.

A piercing scream of delight filled your entire house through a cracked bedroom door.

Tetsuro's unwanted, grating voice across the hall shattered your elevated state of bliss:

"SHUT UP!"

"YOU SHUT UP! I'M ON THE PHONE!"

You took a deep breath on the fifth ring and, shaking off the nerves by standing up out of your swivel chair, you swiped across the screen to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, is this (Y/n)?" A deep, rumbly voice made your knees weak.

"Y-es," Your voice cracked, tummy tingly, "Is this- Asahi?"

His name left your lips so well. You fell onto your back on your bed, pressing your thighs together at the sound of his reply.

"Yeah, that's me."

You hadn't heard his voice before, thinking hard about it now, because he didn't say anything to you in person.

"I thought you wouldn't call," You bit your lip in restraint, but kept the tension in your belly, "Why'd you keep me waiting for so long?"

A grumbly sigh on the other end gave you a full-body shiver. You crossed your legs.

"I was nervous," He admitted.

The giant did have a heart, after all. Curious, you smiled and looked up.

Your face fell.

"Get out of my room!" You shouted at Tetsuro, who was lingering in the doorway.

"How long have you been in here?!"

"I'm not in your room," He tested you by putting a foot inside, and didn't answer your question, instead pressing his own, "Who the hell are you talking to?"

It reminded you: A quick 'Hold on' and what you thought was the mute button--

You scrambled across your bed to the doorway to close it, but he dove out of the way and you ended up shutting him in. You flung it open again.

"Get out!!"

The demon-spawn was making for your phone, so you leaped onto his back and weighed him down to the floor instead.

"It better not be--," He grunted with effort as he shoved you off by the face, "Some country-bumpkin prick!"

There was no contact on the screen, so he couldn't be sure who you were talking to even with your phone in his hand.

"Who is this?" He interrogated, his torso leaning on your bed, his knee on your chest to keep you down.

You punched his leg over, over, and over again. He swatted at you while looking at your phone to figure out why nobody was responding to him.

It gave you the opportunity to push him off while his balance was uneven. You slapped your phone out of his hand and it clattered to the floor.

There was a violent hush over the two of you.

Tetsuro rose of his own accord, dodging a slap, and kicked your phone far under your bed with a grumble.

"Like I'm gonna just let that happen."

The door slammed behind him. You skittered up, opened it, then called after him, "Stay out!!"

You made sure to lock and barricade it this time.

When you leaned down to find your phone, it was impossible to reach with your hands or legs from either side of the bed. That asshole had made sure to kick it just far enough to make you get creative.

You had to tie together a ruler and a clothing hanger to retrieve it, then use your foot to leverage it out.

To your relief, the call was still active. But it wasn't muted.

Heart sunk halfway down your ribcage, you asked a grim question, "How much of that did you hear?"

His chuckle lifted your spirits instantly.

Almost as a conditioned response, you glanced to the door. It was still secure.

"I'm so sorry, my brother is the worst." You grumbled, climbing back into your bed with a sore face, hand, and knee.

Asahi's tone was clear and smooth.

"It sounds like he just wants to keep you out of trouble."

Your body jumpstarted again at that word. You wanted all the trouble he had to offer. You couldn't help but giggle, since his response sounded as if he was referring to himself.

"I know how to handle myself," You grinned, "I'm only a year younger than him."

"He's a senior, isn't he?"

"Mhm."

"So you're a second-year."

"Mhmm," You could listen to him talk all day. Your hand rubbed over your prickled chest, savoring his voice against your ear.

"Good. I feel like less of a creep, now."

In his admission you could hear his lips curl into a smile- your covered your mouth and kicked your legs in the air.

"Don't tell me you thought I was a first-year," You teased with false surprise.

"I-," He sighed, a little labored, and something shifted against the receiver, "Knew it was a possibility."

His standards aside, your interest moved to the extra sound on his end of the line. You prayed it was something risque.

"What else do you wanna know about me?" You stretched your legs up and watched your blank ceiling, biting your lip in wait for his response.

The way he towered over you- his frame was perfect for your fantasies. You imagined him leaning over you now, legs draped over his massive shoulders.

"What made you want to give me your number?"

Another shift, a heavy sigh. You couldn't raise the volume any higher, nor could you hold the phone any closer to your ear to try to hear what he was doing.

In the hopes that he was dirtier than he wanted to let on, you smiled at the freedom to paint his imagination.

"Hmm..." You drawled.

An eager hand dipped between your legs, with one last glance to the door, and you palmed yourself through your shorts while you spoke.

"Your serve really did it for me," As you recalled that last hit, you heard him shift again, "I like your look- y'know, the whole samurai vibe--,"

Asahi laughed a little, making you grin.

"-I think it's really hot."

A pause. "Wait- really?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, "You're a good mix of cute and scary, that's a huge turn-on."

"Wow."

Maybe it was a bit forward of you to say, but so was everything else until this point. Your breath stalled, hoping that was a good wow. It felt so quiet for so long. Everything was still on both sides.

You sat up after a few moments, pulse quickening, and you bit your finger to keep from blurting out another stupid claim. It must've been too much- you were just about to hang up when you heard a quiet, different tone through the speaker.

"What are you wearing right now?"

Mouth open, you made sure to click mute before squealing into your pillow-- when you came up, teary-eyed from the pressure and excitement, you had to catch your breath.

Your voice was slightly hoarse when you unmuted yourself and asked, calmly, "Do you want me to lie to you?"

Thrown in a dumbing whirl of arousal, you went to reach for a vibrator, but realized the sound would probably be too much. You opted for your own fingers instead and tried hard to visualize his heavy hand over yours.

"Shit-," He huffed an uneven sigh, "Go for it."

Did he have any idea how sexy he sounded? You hoped he did- you hoped he knew exactly how to touch you, pleasure you, break you, then put you back together.

Your raised, flirty tone didn't match your answer, "Nothing."

The rumble of his laugh guided your hand to swirl small, soft circles around your clit. Your chest rose and fell a little faster, chasing the budding tightness that was finally coming back to you.

"What are you doing right now?" You couldn't help but ask. It was too tempting to wait around for him to tell you.

"Mm, I'm talkin' to you," He evaded. His smirk was audible through the phone.

His slight regional accent was so perfect. To Hell with city boys, you wanted this big, gruff countryside boy.

He laughed at your whine.

"I wish you weren't so far away," His tone lowered to a bare mutter- it was dripping in lust, but he covered it with a thin veil of wariness.

Your fingers felt so good, but his reminder only made you more sensitive to how you could never fulfill the ache deep inside without him right here, in Tokyo.

You could appreciate how he still kept his cards close. You weren't as patient as him- but upon your inevitable frustration that he wasn't as candid as you, the realization that it was the safer outcome dawned on you. If he wasn't so careful, he might hurt you.

Still, you were riding gentle, pleasant waves while you daydreamed through your response.

"How long would a train ride be?"

He didn't have to tell you how pretty you sounded for you to know. The little raise at the end of your sentence, the tiny waiver in your voice, you knew he liked it.

The quiet seethe on his end confirmed this. He told you without having to look it up, "Hour and a half."

Your pussy practically shut down.

"I could do that," You lied. Your brother would explode if he found out you hopped on a bullet train by yourself to go see some Karasuno boy- and he would. He always did.

Another low laugh. It fixed everything. You threw your head back again, fingers in your mouth so your fingers could slide a little better.

"Don't sound so disappointed," He cooed, "Me and the guys are gonna be in town for the weekend- and I was just thinkin'--,"

"Oh my god, yes. Whatever you're about to say, yes."

His distant 'Damn' away from the phone made you blush. You stopped touching yourself, just for the time being.

"There's just one problem."

You waited for the reveal without responding, then realized he wanted you to ask him.

"What?" You giggled at the weird pause.

His laugh was faint through the rest of his point, "Your brother."

You squinted at your ceiling again with a grumpy sigh. He was right. In fact, you were sure he didn't know the extent of how right he was. Your family was on Life360, and he had your location at all times.

If you turned your phone off, or deleted the app, or put it on 'battery saving-mode' he'd know, and it would be more ground to question you on.

It wasn't the tattling that bothered you, it was his nosiness in the first place.

The last time you snuck out to go see a boy further in the city, he followed you and ruined your movie date by kicking the back of his chair for half of the film. He drove you home and grilled you the entire way back.

"Fuck," You sighed, sitting up with a bit of a tummy-ache from your abandoned orgasm, "Yeah."

It sounded like he was moving again, but he was less flirty, and it made you think he maybe put his dick back up to think better.

"He actually called our team captain, Daichi. We were uh, still on the way back from the game. On the bus. And he put it on speaker."

Your jaw dropped again.

"Said he'd- ha-ha, he said he'd castrate anyone who touched you."

An annoyed sound left you.

"Don't tell me you believe that," You laughed pitifully.

Part of you believed it, so you wouldn't blame him if he did. That same days-long disappointment was creeping back.

Asahi considered his answer. He landed on, "I think... ah, I don't know. I think being cautious is smart."

You nodded slowly, but he couldn't see.

"I still wanna see ya," He added.

You grinned, relieved, and a little aroused again at his drawl, "Good."

It still left the obvious problem. You deliberated on what you could do. A glance to the locked door gave you one idea. Another glance to the window elaborated on it.

How could you see him, not leave the house, and have your brother not know at the same time?

Your question was slow as you slid off of your mattress and started to test the reliability of your window frame.

"How good are you at climbing?"

taglist.

thank ya'll for supporting this!!! i love this series it's so fun to write so i'm glad other people do too!! reply to be added to existing list :)

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere @kreishin

masterlist.

requests. (including what you might want to see in the next 2 parts)

[moonlight-alexia]

lost | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 2.7k | after a few days of feeling lost, confused and being distracted at training, kyra decides to confide in lia about her feelings for you

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pair of pests universe. thank you for being so patient with me on this part! i know it's taken a while but i'm still thankful for all the support :)

‘Kyra, the goals over there. Maybe we need to put some big arrows pointing towards it for you,’ Alessia laughed, watching Kyra miss the goals yet again. None of her shots today at training made it anywhere near the goal, which ignited the harmless comments from some of her teammates.

‘Maybe if you weren’t daydreaming about a certain Catley then you’d get one,’ 

‘You’d think you’d be hitting the back of the net constantly if you wanted to impress her,’ 

Kyra’s head shot around after the comments from her teammates, making sure neither you or Steph were anywhere within earshot. She really didn’t want you or Steph to hear the teasing comments. The comments weren’t unusual. There had always been the odd comment every now and then. But since realising and accepting her feelings for you, the teasing comments felt like they had intensified. Bordering on overwhelming, since Kyra’s head was everywhere but at training.

It had only been a few days since the other night when Kyra had the realisation, but it had been messing with her head a little bit. The days at training Kyra was noticeably different. Nothing was going right for her. Her mind, a million miles away. You were the only thing on her mind. She was confused and distracted. 

One part of her didn’t want to ever risk changing your friendship by confessing her feelings for you. She didn’t ever want to lose you, you helped Kyra more than you would ever know. Kyra was scared that you would distance yourself from her if she ever said anything.

But another part of her knew that eventually she wouldn’t be able to keep pretending that she didn’t have feelings for you. Kyra knew that one day she would have to confess her feelings for you and face a possible rejection or leave your life without ever knowing if there was a possibility that you could like her back. 

Though Kyra felt foolish everytime she thought you might feel the same. Thinking that she was getting ahead of herself and trying to see something that wasn’t there just because it’s what she wanted. It would be the ideal situation, but she knows to keep her hopes low. Besides, things like that only ever seem to happen in the movies, and this wasn’t a movie.

It was a lot for Kyra. Lia could see that. She had always kept an eye on Kyra, ever since she joined arsenal. Making sure to try to create an environment where the younger girl might feel safe and supported no matter what was going on, ‘Hey are you alright?’ Lia took the opportunity while they were resting on the side watching another group of girls take over the drill they were running through.

Kyra was sitting on a ball sipping on water when she felt Lia’s hand on her shoulder and the question directed at her, ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Lia saw the way Kyra looked around before answering. Like she was seeing who was around before she replied. She could feel how tense Kyra was just by the touch on her shoulder.

‘Come on, partner with me,’ Kyra smiled softly and followed Lia. The further the two went from the main group the more Kyra visibly relaxed. Lia and Kyra continued doing partner drills, joking around and chatting amongst themselves. The distraction was welcome by Kyra, since Lia came over she’d only been focused on training and hadn’t let her mind wander back to you or anything that was overwhelming her mind earlier. It wasn’t a complete fix but the temporary distraction was nice for a bit. Even though it had only been a few days Kyra was slowly starting to feel like she was losing her mind.

‘Did you want to come over?’ Kyra hesitated a little. She wasn’t sure if any of the other girls would be around, not knowing if she could handle being around a lot of people right now, ‘It can just be the two of us. No pressure, you just seem like you need some time away from everyone where it’s more quiet,’ Lia quickly added when she noticed Kyra’s hesitation.

Kyra thought it over for a minute. She was also supposed to hang out with you again, but honestly Kyra could use this to help her, maybe help to settle her thoughts. She felt that maybe she could trust Lia with her thoughts and feelings, and maybe Lia might have some advice for the younger one, ‘Yeah I’d like that. I just need to sort something out and then I’ll be over, thank you Lia,’

Lia pulled Kyra into a hug, ‘You don’t need to thank me. It’s what friends are for, I’ll always be there for you,’

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

You were in the locker room getting changed after training, headphones on trying to decompress after the session today, when you felt a familiar pair of hands rest on your waist and head lay on your shoulder. 

You smiled and reached up to take off your headphones, ‘Hi Ky,’ Your voice was just above a whisper. Though your smile fell a bit when you turned your head to look at her. Kyra had a small smile on her lips but you could tell something wasn’t right. Kyra’s smile seemed slightly forced, like something wasn’t quite right but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. She didn’t seem upset or anything, Kyra just seemed off in a way you couldn’t describe. 

‘Hey,’ Kyra whispered back, she somehow always made rooms full of people feel like it was just the two of you, ‘Somethings come up, can we rain check?’ Kyra pouted slightly, feeling bad for cancelling on the plans the two of you had. 

Your eyes glanced down towards Kyra’s lips where you noticed the little pout she was giving you. You thought it was cute. Looking away biting your lip slightly before glancing back at Kyra, trying not to let your eyes drift again and giving her a small reassuring smile, ‘Yeah of course Ky. Is everything okay? You can always tell me anything, you know that?’

You felt Kyra cuddle into you more, her arms fully wrapping around your waist, ‘Thank you, but it’s nothing for you to worry about,’ You felt Kyra’s breath against your neck with each word she spoke. Your heart was racing a bit more than usual, your hand soothingly rubbing along her lower arm that was around you, ‘You’re too sweet to me,’ You heard Kyra sigh, barely above a whisper. You felt your cheeks heat up but chose to not comment on the last bit she said. 

‘I’ll see you tomorrow the girls are all going out, you’re still coming?’ You were hopeful that whatever was going on with Kyra wasn’t impacting her enough to miss out on a night out with you and the girls. Specifically, you didn’t want to miss out on spending a night with Kyra. 

‘Yeah, I wouldn’t miss out on that,’ Kyra knew she had to let go of you at some point, but being around you made her feel better. You help make all her problems feel so far away. You just make Kyra feel better, like nothing else matters in the moment, ‘Wouldn’t miss out on a night with you. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Kyra mumbled out quickly. Without hesitation, without thinking, Kyra’s lips were on your cheek, giving you a small kiss before pulling away. 

For the both of you it felt like a natural reaction, like something Kyra had done a million times before. It wasn’t something completely unusual for your friendship but it felt different. You stayed in place even while Kyra had left grabbing her things on her way out. 

‘Y’know might want to be a bit more careful,’ Katie’s voice next to you brought you back to reality, leaving behind any thoughts you were having about your interaction with Kyra. Confused by Katie’s comment, you turned your head towards her furrowing your eyebrows, ‘You and Kyra, unless you’re gonna tell Steph,’ 

‘Tell Steph what?’ Your voice was low and if any one else was listening they would be able to hear a slight panic in your tone, ‘We’re best friends, Steph knows that. That’s all,’ You raised your eyebrow at Katie before continuing to pack away your things.

‘Okay, sure,’ You rolled your eyes, you didn’t even need to see her face to know she was smirking, ‘Just saying, no one would care. We just want the best for everyone here, even the pests,’ Katie patted your back, a slight rub while you smiled at her comment, a slight laugh slipping past your lips.

‘I’m happy Kyra’s my best friend,’ Katie gave you a nod, you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more so than anyone else. But there was nothing anyone could do to push along the progress, you had to realise and accept your feelings in your own time. Soon enough you were on your own again but not for long, only until Steph called out for you to see if you were also ready to leave.

‘Everything all good with Kyra?’ Steph asked you once you had both settled into the car. She noticed Kyra seemed a little bit different throughout training. She wasn’t completely her normal self. Barely anyone could get a smile out of Kyra and Steph kind of missed Kyra’s mischief during training. 

‘Yeah, you know she gets more clingy when she’s tired’ You shrugged. The lie easily comes out of your mouth. It wasn’t a complete lie, the truth being you really had no idea what was wrong with Kyra. But you didn’t want to think about that. That your best friend who always tells you what’s wrong or just anything like that, didn’t tell you. You know she doesn’t have to tell you everything, but you couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach wondering why she didn’t confide in you like normal and if you had done anything wrong, ‘Drive faster I want to see Calvy,’

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

‘I’m not going to push you to talk about it. If you need just the company without talking about what’s bothering you then we’ll do just that,’ Lia was the first to speak since Kyra entered Lia’s apartment. Kyra settled on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, watching Lia finish off the last bits to the dinner she was making for them, ‘Just know I am here for you. All the girls are, they just have a different way of showing it. Whenever you’re ready if you want,’

Kyra looked at Lia with a small smile. She was incredibly grateful for the friendships she’s made within the team in a small amount of time. Especially the friend she’s found in Lia. Unlike the others Kyra would potentially consider talking to about her feelings, she knows that Lia isn’t one to outright tease or make fun of her. The others mean well but they can be a bit much. Sometimes all Kyra wants and needs is someone who will listen or just be around without the teasing comments. 

‘I know they mean well but the teasing can be a bit much,’ Kyra’s voice was small. She always tries to brush off every comment, it was easier before she realised she had feelings for her best friend. Kyra could reduce any teasing comment down to it not being true. But now it was true, everything felt different. 

Kyra helped Lia carry everything down to the table, ‘There’s no pressure. I want that to be clear,’

‘I think I like,’ Kyra started but cut herself off shaking her head, picking at the food in front of her, ‘No, I know I like Tiny,’ Kyra couldn’t keep it inside and Lia always made her feel calm and safe. Enough that Kyra blurted out the main thing that had been bugging her the last few days, ‘But I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t know if I should tell her, I don’t want to lose her or risk ruining anything. She might not even like me back and then I’d feel stupid for telling her. What if she hates me for this? Why does it all have to be so hard and confusing?’ 

Lia continued to just listen while Kyra poured out everything that was on her mind. Once Kyra started she kept going until the weight had lifted off her shoulders and she felt like she could breathe again. Kyra kept looking down at her food, slight tears coating her eyes but not enough for any to fall. Part of her is glad to finally get everything off her chest but also she wishes the ground would swallow her whole so she doesn’t have to face what Lia might say.

‘Kyra, one thing I know is that Tiny could never hate you. Anyone can tell how much she loves you. Even if it’s just as friends she wouldn’t leave you. I know you know that,’ Lia’s voice was soft but also firm, wanting her words to sink into Kyra’s head. Regardless of if you liked Kyra the same way, Lia was right in how much love you have for Kyra even just as a friend, ‘No one but her could tell you whether that love is more. But it’s understandable to be scared. You know in your heart when you are ready to tell her, don’t force yourself but listen to yourself. I’ll be right here the whole time no matter what happens,’

Kyra nodded along, offering Lia a small smile in appreciation to her words. Being able to talk through this with someone was a better decision than bottling it up until Kyra eventually exploded, ‘Thank you Lia. It’s hard to listen to myself but I guess that is the only thing I can do. At the end of the day I’ll still have everyone regardless and I have to remind myself of that,’ 

Lia smiled back at Kyra, ‘Now…tell me, what is Tiny like?’ Lia smirked trying to lighten the mood and take Kyra’s mind away from the bigger more serious thoughts that were no doubt racing through her mind.

‘Where do I start?’ Kyra joked, a wide smile taking over her face just at the thought of you, ‘I kind of wish I was with her tonight, I miss her smile and laugh. She just gets me and knows me in a way that no one else ever could. I’ve never wanted more with someone as much as I want this with her,’ The rest of the night Kyra spent gushing over you, while Lia just listened and occasionally made a teasing comment amongst the endless support she made sure to keep reassuring Kyra with.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

You were laying on the couch. Calvin laying on top of you, more like squashing you but dog cuddles were your favourite part of the day, they made up for not getting any Kyra cuddles, ‘Stephy, you expecting someone?’ You heard the knock at the door, Calvin pushing hard on your stomach making you wince when he got up to stand at the door tail wagging.

‘Oh yeah, Leah’s coming over for dinner,’ Steph poked her head out from the kitchen to tell you before disappearing to finish off the food she was cooking.

‘Hey Le, when are you gonna learn to cook?’ You smiled, laughing a little while greeting Leah with a hug before letting her into the apartment, ‘Figured you just kept Wally as your personal chef,’

‘You’re a little shit you know that,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head at you, ‘Kyra’s at Wally’s and I wasn’t allowed to intrude so here I am,’ Your smile dropped slightly after hearing that Kyra was with Lia. Kyra cancelled on your plans to be with Lia instead. It was weird Kyra didn’t tell you. You were sure that if Kyra liked Lia then she would’ve told you about it.

The thought of Kyra liking someone didn’t sit well with you. Your stomach churning at the thought, ‘We weren’t even your first choice,’ You clutched your heart, faking being offended at Leah’s words. Joking around to cover up how you were really feeling, ‘No more Calvy cuddles for you,’ 

You grabbed the dog up into your lap away from Leah. Holding onto Calvin a little closer and a little tighter. Hoping the dog in your lap would help ease the thoughts swirling around in your mind. 

[azzo0]

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, your childhood best friend, your guard and the man you love most. You're aware he harbours the same feelings for you. Unfortunately, he doesn't deem himself worthy of your love because all he has to offer is his heart and soul. He can't have you, not when there are men far richer and caring than him, waiting to give you the life you deserve.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader

Warnings: mild nsfw, angst with happy ending, bakugo is a little insecure, reader and Bakugo are from a tribe and are 20, half-assed in some places because I lost motivation to finish this four months ago. Idk where I was going with this one.

wc: 4.9k

song: Here with me- by d4vd

Bakugo Katsuki's been by the chief's daughter's side for as long as he can remember. His father was the chief's personal guard, so he was trained to guard the chief's daughter, you. Before he was too young to start training, he played with your silly wooden dolls, took baths in the lake with you, played dress up and whatnot. He was your first best friend. Someone who wasn't afraid to interact with you just because you were the chief's daughter.

Once he was a little older, his father started training him, but that didn't stop him from visiting your tent before curfew and spending time with you. You guys were too old for toys and playing house now. Instead, he listened to you read a book for him or tell him about your day and why you find everyone in the tribe so annoying. After you were done with your ramble, he'd tell you about how his training was going. Each time, he vowed he'd be the one selected as your guard and replace the 'shitty' one you currently had. His ears and cheeks went rosy whenever you giggled and told him you were sure he'd win the competition. He rolled his eyes at it, but on the inside, he was a mush. It pushed him to train harder because he wanted to defeat all the men who would compete to be your guard. 

He's everywhere you are once he absolutely destroys everyone in the competition. Outside your tent as you're deep asleep, accompanying you when you go to the other tribes with your father or when you go hunting. He knew your habits and nature like the back of his hand by now.  He loves his job, but he really hates how distracted he is by the person he's supposed to be protecting. 

Even now, his eyes kept trailing to you, studying you for a few seconds too long before returning his attention to the surroundings. He reminded himself that he was here to protect you, or he could lose his position by your side to someone else. He can't help it when you look so damn beautiful sitting on a cloth by the lake, reading some stupid book. Since when did he start looking at you like that? He brushed away the fact that you've always made his heart race. Even when you guys were kids. You've always had this effect on him.

He has to remind himself to not let these feelings out. He keeps them caged inside of him. What's the point of letting them out when you will one day get married to a man far wealthier and caring than him? He was just your guard. Nothing more.

He sneaked a glance at you again—one last time—only for his heart to leap out of his chest when he saw you already looking at him. His face heated up when your lips tugged up on the sides in a smile. You waved at him and motioned for him to come over. 

"Yes?" He questioned, towering over you with the spear on his side. You felt your chest swarm with butterflies as you looked up at the man you spent your entire childhood with. 

"Sit with me, Katsuki. Don't you ever get tired of standing and glaring at nothing?" You said, patting the empty space beside you. 

"No, It's my job," he replied, "And no, I can't sit with you."

"Oh, come on," You grabbed his hand and roughly pulled him down, "Don't worry about father, no one's going to see you here." 

"But-"

You put an index on his lips, the blush on his pale cheeks not going unnoticed, "Hush, Katsuki. You're not losing your job. If you do, I'll shed a few tears and get it back for you." 

He gave in and sat beside you, his back rigid. You two sat in silence with the sun shining down, the only sounds being the rustle of the leaves, birds chirping, and the lake flowing by.

He allowed himself to look at you again. Cardinal eyes took their time exploring your features, basking in the sun. From your hair to your forehead, where an elegant diadem sat, to your nose and your lips, he so desperately wanted to brush with his. 

You closed the book with a snap, almost startling him and shooting him a bright smile. He listened to you tell him about how annoying your father was being these days as he tried to convince you to meet your suitors. His heart sank to his stomach. Of course, many men were waiting for you to choose them. You guys are at that age now, after all. He was going to watch you get married to some chief's son, leave the tribe, and live your own life. You'd never look back at him because he was just a stupid guard. He convinced himself there were men far richer and more handsome than him, waiting to take your hand and treat you to the best life you deserved. But that man wasn't him. He made a move to leave, freezing when he felt a heavy weight in his lap. 

He looked down to see you had put your head in his lap, your eyes already closed. Despite the sorrow in his chest, he smiled. He knew you liked napping in the afternoons. He stayed for a few minutes longer, aware he could have his head chopped off if one of the chief's men found him like this. He removed the diadem from your head so you were more comfortable and got up, taking off his red fur cloak and folding it. He put it under your head as a makeshift pillow. He sat on his knees, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers as you slept, so ethereally beautiful. 

He picked up his spear and stood guard again to protect the woman he loved most, unaware she dreamt of being in his arms as she slept.

It was another sunny day when Bakugo stood outside the chief's tent with two other guards while you were busy inside with your father. His heart felt so heavy. He wanted to throw up. This morning, the tribal chief and his son from a neighbouring land had come to ask for your hand. He knew he'd lost you the moment he saw the chief's son. He stood weary, doing his job, aware that the moment you walked out of that tent, you'd never glance back at him again. Not when you had that annoyingly handsome man by your side. A man who could give you the world you deserved.

What he didn't expect, however, was you running out of the tent with the roaring voice of your father demanding you to get back inside. Your eyebrows were knitted together as you stomped down the wooden stairs, hurling curses at all the men in the tent. Bakugo sprang to your side instantly, concerned for what had happened inside, almost jogging after you as you sped to your tent. 

He stepped inside after you, watching you fall into your bed of blankets and furs, head buried in a pillow. He kneeled by your bed and put a hand on your back. 

He forgot how much he hated seeing you cry, "Y/n," how long had it been since he last used your name? It was only 'my lady' or a sarcastic 'princess' ever since he was selected as your personal guard, "What happened?"

You peeked at him from the pillow. His forehead was free from creases, and his eyes were soft. 

You sat up, sniffling, "Father wants me to marry that stupid chief's son to strengthen ties," You wiped your eyes, spoiling the kohl that had been applied to your lids this morning with precision, "He won't take no for an answer. I don't want to ruin my life just for strengthening some stupid ties."

There was thick silence. Bakugo gulped as he looked into your eyes. His heart was joyous with your answer, but there was still an empty pit deep within him, "Why?" he asked.

"I just told you why," You frowned, "I'm not marrying some random man I feel nothing for."

You stared at Katsuki, searching for a reaction on his face. You almost wanted to shake him by the shoulder and scream at him, 'I don't want another man when I have you.' Your face flushed when you saw his eyes dart down to your lips for a split second. 

Katsuki looked away from your face, eyes settling on your knees instead, "He's perfect for you."

"No, he's not," you scoffed.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" He raised his voice, "Don't you get he's going to take great care of you? He's going to give you everything you deserve."

"What's the point if I don't love him?" 

"You're the chief's daughter, Y/n. You knew this had to happen sooner or later." He stared into your eyes as if he was trying to knock some sense into you. You didn't get why he was being so pushy about the matter in the first place. It was unlike him.

"You sound like father right now. Stop it." You snapped, "Why are you being so pushy, huh? You think I don't know what you actually want to say?"

Bakugo's eyes hardened and narrowed at you defensively, "I don't know what you're talking about."

You put a hand on his shoulder and forced him back on his knees again when he tried to stand up. You grabbed a handful of the fur on his red cloak, the one he'd let you borrow countless times when it was raining outside or when the breeze was too chilly, "You think I don't notice the way you look at me? Do you think I don't see the blush on your face when we talk? I'm not dumb. You like me. So stop spewing shit that goes against what you feel."

Bakugo was dumbfounded as he glared at you with cheeks and ears as red as his eyes. He wanted to deny you. He wanted to tell you you were delusional, but his throat betrayed him. 

"What does that have to do with your proposal?" He scowled.

"It has everything to do with my proposal, for fucks sake!" you yelled, "I like you too, but you're too busy thinking you're not worthy of being by my side!"

His poor heart couldn't take the attacks you unleashed on him one after the other. You liked him too? Even though he had nothing but his heart and loyalty to offer you? You were right about the last bit of your confession. He wasn't worthy of being by your side. Not as your lover. 

"You're right," he mumbled, standing up. He turned around and went to the entrance to your tent, raising the flaps, "I ain't worthy of bein' by your side. You deserve a man that spoils you rotten and gives you the world. That man ain't me."

"Katsuki..."

"I'm fine with just being your guard. So put your feelings away 'cause I'm not the man you're meant to be with." With that, he stepped out of your tent to stand guard again, and your father's men begged you to go back to his tent again. 

With no fight left, you half-heartedly agreed to their pleas. You stopped to glance at Katsuki before going after the men. His eyes were set straight ahead of him with a stone face.

He wouldn't look at you.

Bakugo's heart ached as he trailed a little distance behind you and your soon-to-be fiancé, Keiji. You had signed the papers without a word after the fit you threw over the proposal a week earlier, and now your engagement ceremony was only four weeks away. He wanted to chop off his own head with the sword when you let out a sweet laugh at a joke Keiji made. 

He hated the way the stupid man's hand rested on your waist. He hated the way he looked down at you with hungry eyes. He hated his flawlessly handsome face you were smiling for, but Bakugo was in no position to intervene. He chose this. He chose to let you out of his grasp for someone better. 

You and Bakugo had not spoken to each other since the confessions in the tent. If your eyes happened to meet his, he'd look away like he never saw you in the first place. He simply stood still as a statue and did his job like the other guards. You almost wanted to beg him to talk to you just so you could hear his raspy voice again, but being the stubborn woman, you were, you refused to talk to him first and went and signed the damn papers even though you absolutely hated this man blabbing your ear off as you took a walk around the perimeter of the tribe.

Bakugo watched you giggle and accept a flower Keiji had plucked from a bush. 'She hates that flower, you dickhead,' Bakugo wanted to screech. 

He clicked his tongue and forced himself to look away from you two. At least you were warming up to that stupid man. Or so he thought. He kept telling himself he'd be okay as long as you were happy. 

You were on the verge of tears as you crept through the woods with an archery bow and arrows. You wanted your horse to kick Bakugo with her hind legs. You had signed the papers in hopes Katsuki would change his mind, and now there was only one week till the engagement ceremony. You guys still hadn't uttered a word to eachother. The only reason he was following you here was out of obligation. 

You went still when you spotted a deer. Slowly, you took out an arrow from the quiver strapped to your back and took aim, hoping to land the shot this time. A twig underneath your foot crunched, and the deer's head snapped towards you before it jumped away. Frustrated, you threw the arrow down. You heard a snicker behind you and glanced back, giving Bakugo a glare to make him shut up. 

"You've wandered too far in," He stated. His voice felt foreign.

"Now you've decided to talk?" You snorted, stomping up to him and snatching the reigns of your horse. 

"It's time to head back," he said plainly. 

"You don't get to order me around," You mounted your horse and went deeper into the woods, completely ignoring him. 

Bakugo ran a hand down his face and followed you. You could be really childish at times. He was going to be the one getting in trouble if you got back home late. You were usually exemplary at hunting, but he could tell you were distracted today. He knew the reason for your distraction, too. His chest felt hollow when he thought of you being finally betrothed and taken away. He was questioning his choices now, but it was too late. He was sure you already liked your fiancé by now. 

He felt a drop of water fall on his nose and wiped it away. After a few more drops fell, he looked up at the sky, partly covered by the thick canopy of leaves. It was raining. 

"Oi," He called, "It's rainin'. Get back here."

By the time you steered your horse towards Bakugo's, the rain had grown heavier. The clouds had made it difficult to move through the forest due to the lack of light. Bakugo tried to navigate his way through the darkness and failed. There was no point in trying to start a fire because the rain would put it out anyway. He heard you let out a small curse. He hopped off his horse and took off his cloak, throwing it at you. 

"I don't need it." 

"Shut the fuck up and put it on," Bakugo rolled his eyes. You gave him an ugly stare and wrapped his warm and furry cloak around your shoulders. You wished he'd stop doing things that made your heart swoon so you could hate him.

He took your horse's reins and hopelessly tried to look for a way out. It was of no use, "Well, fuck." he sighed.

"Katsuki, look at that!" He followed the direction of your finger and squinted, trying to look through the rain. It was a shelter cabin and a stable, "Finally. Let's stay there till the rain stops."

You nodded in agreement and left your horse beside his in the stable. Luckily, it had doors, so the horses wouldn't get cold. Bless whoever built this shelter. Katsuki climbed up the logs stacked on top of eachother as makeshift steps and opened the door to complete darkness. You followed after him, leaving the door open as he fumbled with the fireplace, trying to start a fire. After a few tries, the cabin lit up in orange and red hues. You finally closed the door. 

You watched him get up, your eyes falling on his white shirt, now see-through from being wet. It clung to his skin, giving you a fine view of his muscles. The rain had made his wheat blonde hair droop down. He noticed your flustered state and strode up to you cocking his head, "Something the matter, princess?"

You held his scarlet gaze as he undid his buttons, his lips tugged up on one side in the smallest smirk, well aware of the effect he was having on you. He took off his shirt and put it on a chair in front of the fireplace to let it dry. You had no intentions of taking off your clothes, even if they made you squirm in irritation. 

"Oi, come sit here," Bakugo pulled another chair in front of the fire, "You'll catch a cold." 

"Why do you care?" You felt bad for being snappy, but you were also mad at him for ghosting you for three whole weeks and then talking to you as if nothing happened. Bakugo bared his teeth in a snarl and took slow steps towards you, making you back away into the door. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you need to snap at every damn thing I say?" He growled. 

"What the fuck is wrong with me? I should be asking you that question!" You yelled, trying to push him away, "Katsuki, you can't just not talk to me for three whole weeks and then expect everything to be normal!"

"Well, what else do you want me to do? Cheer for you and that fucking Keiji?"

"That's why you're not talking to me?" You sneered, "You did this to yourself, Katsuki."

"But you're happy, ain'tcha? Then go kiss his ass, and don't fucking worry about me." He turned around to lay in the furs, stopping when you spoke again. 

"Do I look happy to you, Katsuki?" You said, your voice small, "What made you think I'm happy with the fact I'm going to be betrothed to him? I signed the papers so you'd come back to me, you fucking idiot."

He slowly turned around to see you tighten his cloak around your shoulders, "I'm not marrying him." 

"Why are you like this?"

"How can I marry another when you're here with me, Katsuki?"

"I have nothing to give you, Y/n. I'm just a guard with a little tent and my heart to offer. Keiji-"

"I'm sick of hearing that name. Stop. I'm not after your treasures or luxuries. I want you. Why don't you see that?! Why do you keep comparing yourself to other men like that? I love you for who you are, not for what you have." 

He took quick steps towards you and slammed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his rough lips pressing on yours. He pulled away for a few short seconds to see your reaction. You wasted no time throwing your arms around his neck and connecting your mouth to his again. 

His body pressed against yours, pushing you onto the door behind you. Your lips were warm. So warm and soft. He pushed his mouth further onto yours, your teeth clashing with his. His cloak fell off your shoulders, pooling around your feet. You tried not to gasp when his warm and wet muscle slipped into your mouth and danced around.

"Fuck," His hands travelled down your back and behind your thighs to lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he buried his nose under your jaw, lips brushing your skin, "I fucking love you," He confessed against your jugular. 

He didn't wait for a reply and stole the air out of your lungs again. You pulled away, gasping with your head thrown back as he gave all his attention to your neck, "I love you too, Katsuki." His mouth was on yours again, kissing you like you were the very oxygen he needed to survive. 

"I don't want to see you with another," He panted in between kisses, "I can't let you marry someone that isn't me."

"You're such an idiot," You grinned, "If you would have said that before, I wouldn't have to sign the papers."

"Signed 'em for my attention, eh?" He smirked, brushing his nose with yours. You kissed him again, this time more fiercely. Your legs tightened around his torso, and you moaned into his mouth. 

"Oi," he warned. 

You put your feet on the ground and steered him towards the furs piled up like a bed, almost tripping a few times. You pushed him down and straddled his lap, leaving a trail of kisses along the length of the scar on his shoulder. 

"Desperate, huh?" He smirked when he felt you grind against him, frantic for friction. He flipped you to the other side so he was the one towering over you. He teased the buttons of your shirt, still soaked from the rain. 

"You're testing my patience," You gritted your teeth, slapping away his hands playfully and undoing the buttons yourself. Bakugo was left star-struck as he gaped at the sight of you laid out so beautifully in front of him. He went beet red, all his cockiness running down the drain. He wasn't sure of what to do with himself now. Noticing his daze, You giggled and pulled him down into you. 

You two made love with the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof and the sounds of crackling thunder. Neither of you seemed to notice the storm raging outside, so engrossed in each other's warmth and desire. The world around you seemed to have been blurred, with the only focus being you, him, and the chants of 'I love you' he murmured into your ear.

"Where were you two?" Your father demanded the next morning, his nostrils flaring when he noticed the bruises on both of your necks. The clothes you wore covered very little of the artwork you guys had made on eachother last night. 

"We got caught up in the storm," you explained. "We found a cabin in the woods and stayed the night."

"Stayed the night to betray your fiancé?" You held your father's stern glare, narrowing your eyes at him. "Do you realise what you have done? And you, Bakugo Katsuki. What made you think you could pounce on my daughter the minute you had an opportunity?"

Katsuki remained on the floor on one knee, head low out of respect. He dared to look up at the chief, who was already staring at him murderously. Katsuki cursed internally and looked at the carpet again. You guys were in so much trouble. 

"Katsuki did nothing," You said, trying to keep your cool, "And I haven't betrayed Keiji because I am not betrothed to him yet."

"Your engagement ceremony is in six days!" Your father's voice boomed, "And you gave yourself away to a useless guard?"

"Katsuki is not a useless guard!" You snapped, "He's saved me from an assassination attempt twice if your rotten old brain can remember."

"You are talking to your father and to the chief." He seethed, "Mind your language. What he did was nothing impressive. Protecting you is his job," his eyes shifted to Bakugo, a muscle in his jaw flickering, "not sleeping in bed with you."

Bakugo looked up with guilt flooding his chest. He hadn't thought of the consequences last night, "Chief-"

"Silence!" He stood up, looking down at Bakugo. Your heart sank when he called for the guards outside the tent to take Bakugo away. 

"Father, no!" 

"This is what's best for you."

Two guards held Bakugo by his arms as he attempted to get out of their grip. You pushed away the guards with tears in your eyes, trying your best to free him. 

"Sit down, Y/n." Your father commanded. You ignored him and swung your fist at one of the guard's noses, taking him by surprise. Your fingers tightened around Bakugo's arm, and you pulled him up, having him stand by your side. You scowled at the guards, "Stay away."

 "Don't be stupid. That man isn't worth your time." Your father said, "Let the guards take him away. I'll punish him as I see fit."

"No one's taking him away, and you're not punishing him," You said firmly, "You're calling off the engagement ceremony with Keiji because Katsuki's the one marrying me."

Despite the situation, Bakugo couldn't help it when his ears flared red. You were serious about him. He allowed himself to look at the chief in the eye and straighten his back. He dared to let his hand rest on your waist as your father burned with rage.

"Keiji is a rich man, far better than a guard you happen to be in love with. Marrying him is best for you as it will help strengthen ties with-"

"You're marrying me off to him because it will strengthen ties with his tribe. How is that the best for me? That's the best for you. And I don't care about how rich Keiji is because I want to marry Katsuki, and I'll have it no other way."

"Y/n-" He started, but you cut him off.

"Besides, didn't you marry Mom despite your parents wanting you to marry someone else?" You reminded. You watched your father's fists clench, "Then why are you trying to force me?"

There was dead silence in the tent as you and Katsuki stared at the chief while the guards stood there awkwardly. At last, your father took a step towards you, putting his hands behind him, "I suggest you think about it again."

"I've already made my decision."  

Your father's eyes shifted to Bakugo beside you, "How can I be sure you'll take care of my daughter?"

"I'm ready to sacrifice my life for her, Chief," Bakugo's head lowered slightly, "My heart and soul, they're all hers. I might not be as wealthy as her suitors, but rest assured, I'm still very capable of taking care of her."

You could see the uncertainty flash in your father's eyes. You lowered your voice, "Please, father."

After a few moments of hesitation, he let out a long exhale and put his hands on your and Katsuki's head, "You have my blessings. The engagement ceremony will still be held in six days but with you and Bakugo instead."

Bakugo's heart raced, and his hands pooled with sweat. It felt like a dream. He went on one knee and bowed, "Thank you, Chief."

"Keep her happy, Bakugo Katsuki." 

"I will," Bakugo nodded and stood up.

"Thank you, Father." You beamed. 

You watched your father's lips tug up on the smile in the faintest smile. He turned his back to you, "You may leave."

You broke out into a wide grin and took Bakugo's hand to leave the tent. Bakugo had to keep himself from laughing out loud as you almost hopped towards his tent. You turned around and faced him with wide eyes once you guys were inside, "We're getting engaged, Katsuki!"

"Yeah, we are." He smiled. 

"Are you crying?" You asked, noticing his eyes go glossy. 

"Shut up, I'm not!" He exclaimed, looking away from you with a sniffle. You giggled and hugged him tight, mushing your cheek on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his nose in your hair. You could feel your neck get wet, but you made a point not to mention it, letting him hold you for as long as he wanted instead. 

You were finally his. 

Roughly a year later, you sat on the bed of your and Katsuki's shared tent, thinking back on the day's events. You guys had gotten married just this morning. You toyed with the necklace around your neck, the one he'd given you a few hours ago after he said his oaths. You laughed to yourself, thinking of how he almost cried again when he lifted the veil from your head. You looked to your side when he sat beside you. 

"Ya good?" He asked. You nodded, and he took your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist. 

"I'm just so happy, Katsuki."

He shifted closer and cradled your face gently. "Yeah? I'm happy, too." He tucked some hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours, "I'll be happy for as long as you're here with me."

You couldn't help but smile when he brushed his lips with yours, "Me too, Katsuki."

[golden1u5t]

working all day | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: no

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: spencer’s being a brat because you’ve been working all day, leaving you no choice but to fix his attitude for him. 

You had been working all day long, in and out of the house all day. You worked from home most of the time with you being the owner of your company but today you were booked with meetings back to back, barely getting 30 minutes to come home and switch out the paperwork needed for each meeting.

Spencer had the day off which meant he was home alone while you were out at your meetings, only getting to see you when you came home for a brief moment.

The only contact he'd had with you all day was a quick kiss and a goodbye before you left again.

He tried to keep busy while you were out, cleaning the entire house, dusting off old books, doing laundry, he even went as far as watching a modern day romance movie but it didn't work. His mind kept drifting off to you every time he tried to distract himself.

So he tried one last thing, attempting to cook a recipe Rossi had given to him when he announced to the team that you two were moving forward in your relationship and moving in together, it was his house warming gift. With Spencer being so concentrated on trying to perfect the recipe, he hadn't heard you come into the house. You set your things down in your office before walking in the kitchen quietly and wrapping your arms around him from behind.

Spencer tensed for a second before he recognized the familiarity of your arms. He relaxed but he didn't say anything to you, he continued to cut the vegetables. A frown formed on your lips because this was something new. Spencer had never just ignored you like that, especially when you haven't seen each other for most of the day.

"Baby? What's wrong?" You asked, letting go of him and walking around the island to see his face clearly.

He turned around and emptied the bowl of mixed vegetables in the pot on the stove. You were madly confused, you couldn't think of anything you'd down to him all day long, you had barely been home to do anything let alone piss him off.

"Spencer. Look at me, now."

He huffed and turned around, knowing better than to not listen when you used that tone with him. "Don't you have another meeting to attend?"

"Go to the bedroom." He opened his mouth to say something argumentative back but you stopped him before he could form the first word. "Now, Spencer."

He huffed again and put the bowl on the counter and left the kitchen, he knew he would be getting punished but he didn't care, he wanted it. You two hadn't had sex in a week and a half, he was needy.

You watched him walk away until you couldn't see him anymore before going to turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner. You waited a few minutes before going into your bedroom, wanting to give him a little time to think before you did anything. When you walked in the room, Spencer was sitting patiently on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his pretty, pink lips.

"What's wrong with you today?" You stood in front of him with your arms crossed in front of your chest, mimicking him. Spencer looked everywhere but you and kept his lips turned down.

"Answer me." You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you, a whine slipping past his lips.

"Today was supposed to be our day together and-and you haven't touched me in a week." His hands fell into his lap.

"My baby is needy. That's what this is all about, you just wanted some attention." You fake pouted and squatted so you were eye level with him. He whimpered and nodded his head, his cock hardening in his pants.

"What have I told you about communication?" You hummed and tilted your head.

"That if I want something then I need-need to ask otherwise you'll never know." If you hadn't been right in front of him, you would've never heard what he said.

You smiled proudly at him and stood up, leaning down to press your lips to his temple. You pulled back and took a good look at Spencer, he was still pouting just with a hard cock this time.

He always did have a hard time with expressing what he wants or how he feels but you were working through it with him, teaching him that it's okay to tell you when he needed something.

Spencer wanted you to touch him, to do something. He didn't even care that the only way you'd be touching him is when you were giving him his punishment, which he knew was coming.

"Are you going to punish me?" He tried not to let his excitement seep through his voice. Spencer stood up and even though he was taller than you by far, you still made him feel small under your gaze.

"It wouldn't be a punishment if you wanted it." You watched him fidget with the hem of his shirt, fingers tugging and twisting it around.

You reached out and took his glasses off of his face, turning around and setting them down on your vanity. You told Spencer to undress down to his boxers, it almost made you laugh with how quickly you heard his clothes being torn off.

You kept your back to him while you took your time with taking your jewelry off and putting it back in it's spot on your vanity, Spencer watched your every move. He tried to stay calm and wait for you to give him another instruction, he wanted to be good for you, he needed to be.

It's hardwired into his brain, he had to be good for you, it was rare he had days like this when he was being rude or short with you. He hadn't had a day like that in a while which is why you weren't going to punish him, you were going to treat it as a warning.

When you finally stopped your teasing, you turned around to see him just like you asked, stripped down to his purple boxers. You walked closer to him and put your hand on the back of his head, pulling him down so you could kiss him.

Spencer kissed you back with just as much force as you did, maybe even more. You let your hand roam over his shoulders and down his back, stopping over his ass before harshly coming down on it once.

He was so surprised by the sudden hit, he whined into your mouth and stumbled forward. You pulled away from him to watch the blush spread down his chest, a satisfied smile on your face.

"Lay on the bed, sweet boy." You gently pushed his chest. Spencer settled onto the bed and waited for you, he rested on his forearms so he could have a clear view of you the entire time. You slowly stripped yourself of your clothes but left your panties on so he could take them off himself, something he loved to do.

You got onto the bed and straddled his thighs, purposely keeping yourself off of his hard cock. You ran your hands over his torso, stopping over his nipples and pinching gently.

"Mommy- please!" Spencer moaned, his back arching towards you as you continued to pinch and roll his nipples between your fingers. He always did have sensitive nipples and you found it entirely adorable, you loved to try and challenge yourself by trying to make him cum from just playing with his chest.

Spencer brought his hands to grab at your hips, he started to pull you forward so you were sitting on his cock instead of his thighs. The sudden pressure on his cock from your weight tore a whine through his throat, his hips bucking up and making you bounce.

"Ok-Okay, baby. I've got you, let me take care of you." You smiled at the desperate boy under you. You lifted yourself off of him and pulled his boxers down, the chilly air in the room sent a shiver down Spencer's spine. You situated yourself on his thighs once again and wrapped your hand around his leaking cock for the first time in a week.

Spencer's eyes closed and his mouth fell open in a loud moan when you started to move your hand, his body jerked slightly at the feeling of your spit hitting his cock. You moved off of his legs and sat on the bed next to him so you could push his legs apart, all while continuing to stroke his cock.

You moved to sit between his legs, you leaned down at took his cock in your mouth. You suckled on the head while your hand moved up and down on the rest of his cock, a moan slipping past your lips at the taste of him.

Spencer's eyes flew open and his hand moved to grip your hair tightly, tears starting to stream down his face.

"I can't- mommy- mmph, gonna cum! Please, can-can

I- please?" He nearly screamed, his thighs starting to shake as you continued to suck on the head of his cock.

You looked up at him and moaned, that was his breaking point, the vibrations shooting through his body.

Your eyes closed at the feeling of his cum hitting your tongue. Spencer's hips lifted up as he finished cumming, his orgasm dying down. You pulled off of him after giving him one last parting suck, a string of spit and cum connecting your mouth to his cock.

Spencer whined at the sight, his hands grabbing at your arms to pull you closer to him. You gave him a soft smile and kissed away the tears staining his cheeks. "Feel better?"

"Yeah-yeah. Think I need more." His voice was quiet but need dripping through his voice, even as quiet as it was. You let out a small laugh and nodded your head, starting to get off of him so you could push your panties to the side.

"Wait- I want to make you feel good."

[only-lonely-star]

can you pls do a johnny cade smut where him and reader just broke up and they see each other at a party and they have really aggressive sex? thank you!

★ Mine ★

~ Johnny Cade ~

Warnings - This is a NSFW story. You and Johnny are not minors. Drinking, consensual tipsy intercourse, oral sex, choking, slapping, degradation, aggressive sex.

Summary - You spot a familiar face at a party…

Author’s Note - Thank you so much for the request!! This was so actually fun to write because it’s so 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 and kept me on my toes 😭. Enjoy!!🤍

Word Count - 2.1k.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You were anything but in the mood to party tonight. Your most recent breakup with your boyfriend, Johnny, left you in pieces. The constant nudge of your friend, Kelly, was aggravating you more than you'd thought. "Take a drink, come on," she pleaded, the tipsy gleam in her eye unmistakable. "You look a mess. This is a party, y'know..."

You uncrossed your arms, your gaze on the plastic red cup filled with a clear liquid. That shit was straight poison - you'd be vomiting all night from just a few sips. Although to take your mind off of Johnny sounded like a wonderful idea. Parties were supposed to be fun. Drinks, the men, the music - everything. So, you took the cup into your already clammy hands and took a considerably large sip.

"There ya go, drink up," Kelly chuckled, her hand giving your back an affectionate slap. The liquid nearly came right back out from the forceful touch.

You grimaced at the bitter feeling running down your throat, and how your mind already felt cloudy. Drinking was never your thing.

Kelly seemed to have ventured off by the time you glanced up from your cup. You could see her clinging onto a man you hadn't seen a day in your life, a signal to maybe find your own company for the night.

Wandering around the crowded house party felt intimidating as hell. So many options, so many choices of who you could sweet talk with for a bit - at least until Kelly found you. A hand swayed over your midsection, causing quite the disorientated stir from you. A taller man with blonde curls, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket pressed his chest flush against yours. "Lemme take you home," he coaxed, obviously just horny and lonely.

You gave your head a small shake, leaning your body fully against his. This was just a small distraction for you, you didn't plan on actually going home with this guy. He kept on rambling on about trying to get you in his bed, blah, blah, blah...it was all a blur. It wasn't until you registered a familiar pair of eyes boring into yours. Your wobbly legs had already brought you to the eyes before you knew it, pulling away from the other man's grasp. Your lips curled up to a smile, squinting your eyes to have a better look. "Johnny?"

Johnny's expression was priceless. A seething mix of jealousy and irritation was visible in his eyes. He grabbed onto your bicep with a firm grip, startling you in your drunken state. "The hell are you doing? We break up one week, and the next you're with some guy at a party?"

You were dazed, not knowing how to respond without upsetting him further. "It ain't like that, I don't even know him."

"Bullshit," he spoke gruffly, the anger in his voice clear as day. Johnny's grip only tightened, his eyes scanning the wild house party's atmosphere.

"It's not bullshit! Maybe if you didn't leave I could've been with you instead!" The words fell from your tongue in an agitated hiss.

Your bold choice of words caused him to yank your arm tighter, leading you away from the wall he was leaning against. You stumbled behind him, mind fuzzy and emotions swirling. You didn't question it - figuring he was going to take things up with the man you were with.

"You over me? That quick?" he asked, disbelief laced in his taunting tone. You shook your head vigorously, the tipsy state increasing your honesty with him. He'd taken you to a door, leading to what seemed to be a bathroom. The crowded hallway was littered with plastic cups, cigarettes, and articles of clothing such as shirts and panties.

"Good," Johnny replied simply, yanking you inside the bathroom. Others had clearly been in here, small spills of straight vodka all over the counter and floor.

You locked eyes with Johnny. It felt awfully similar to when the two of you would venture off to a bedroom or bathroom like this at a house party. Seeing him again caused a whirlwind of emotions, but mostly desire. You hadn't been fucked since before you two had that massive breakup. Your cunt ached for him.

You were soon snapped out of your thoughts, his hand pressing onto your throat, squeezing it ever so slightly. Your ass was pressed down to rest on top of the pearl-colored countertop, just beside the sink. He stood between your legs, continuously pushing your body so that your shoulders were against the stained mirror.

"You want this?" He asked, the question almost pointless to your drunken state. Of course you wanted him.

"Yes," you croaked out, his hand squeezing your throat tighter. The sensation did wonders in dampening your folds, your body practically begging for his touch.

Johnny used his free hand to unbuckle his belt swiftly, the metal piece falling to the floor in an instant. Your eyes widened, stifling any sudden moans that dared to escape your lips. Before you knew it, his denim and boxers had been kicked aside to the other end of the cold, tile floor. You felt your cunt repeatedly clench and tremble. His hand never moved, he needed to keep you propped upright and under his control. Johnny's other hand pushed your denim skirt up, allowing him access to your cum-soaked panties. He grinned at the sight, knowing he was the one to have gotten you so wet even without entrance just yet. He ran his finger over the wet spot, spiking the fabric further. He gruffly spoke up, locking eyes with you intimately, "You're gonna take all of me."

This was no request - it was a demand. You could almost swear you felt yourself finish right then and there, his authoritative words sending a chill down your spine. Stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, you set it on the other end of the sink. You scrambled to unbutton your denim skirt as well, sliding it all the way down to your ankles for Johnny to finish removing. You did the same with your panties, sliding your body closer to his. He caught on to your eager actions, shutting down the idea immediately. "Sit up," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Johnny~" you groaned aloud lustfully. He slid his dampened tip to graze over your clit. The feeling of his warm pre-cum caused your cunt to yearn for more. Johnny's hand squeezed your flesh somehow even tighter, your breath hitching in your throat.

"God, I missed my pussy," he admitted in a low and lecherous voice. You hummed in response, grinning from ear to ear. Having him confess to you so suddenly only made your desire grow.

He slipped his tip inside your warm and wet cunt, your body taking its time to adjust to his size once more. You let out a shaky moan, your hands involuntarily searching the countertop nearby for something to hold onto. You didn't have enough time to properly adjust before his entire length pounded your insides with a firm thrust. A holler of pure bliss erupted from your lungs, tilting your head back in submission.

"Take the whole fuckin' thing. I ain't stopping 'till you remember you're mine." Johnny declared, his thrusts becoming faster by the second.

You could've sworn your neck had a red handprint on it from the extreme choking he'd been establishing on you. The same could be said about your cunt, Johnny fucking it as he pleased to fulfill his desires.

A low, guttural moan fell from Johnny's lips, his cock deepening inside you. Your body was jerking back and forth so rapidly, your breasts jolting up and down. The pleasure only seemed to increase from there. Your ecstatic expression made Johnny crumble. He lifted his hand to your cheek, striking it firmly before grabbing your chin to force your gaze on him. A wicked smile formed on his lips, "You like that? Fucking yourself onto me? Hm?"

The realization flooded your mind, realizing your body had been subconsciously moving on its own to receive all the more pleasure. You were no stranger to rough sex - you'd constantly find yourself enjoying the occasional slap and swat from Johnny. It made your legs tremble, the burning sensation lasting only a few seconds but having a long-term effect on your desire for his cock.

"Yes... yes, I like it," your raspy voice struggled to reply to him. His hand on your throat squeezed all the right spots, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Yeah? You're mine," he declared again, slapping your cheek once more just to be sure you heard him loud and clear.

His cock slammed into your tight cunt, the sound of your skin slapping his causing a breathless moan from the both of you. You felt your eyes fly open, only for them to instinctively roll back. You were teetering on the edge, Johnny's pounding motion placing you in a state of bliss. He noticed the way your eyes had rolled back, your breathing becoming faster by the second. Your legs instinctively closed on him, the rush of pleasure causing your legs to shudder. Johnny helped you through your climax, slowing his pace as he praised you under his breath. “Did so fucking good for me.”

The constant words of encouragement settled the adrenaline pumping through you, his slow movements finishing you off with a breathy moan. You peered down to see himself holding back from releasing just yet. His cock soaked in your cum slowly thrusting inside you was a sight you quite enjoyed. The wetness surrounding him allowed more movement inside your dripping cunt.

He then pulled out, a groan of frustration slipping out. You blinked back the pleasure, panting and sweating. Your pussy was marked all over - red and bruised yet you'd enjoyed the whole thing.

"On your knees," Johnny spoke suddenly, removing his hand from your neck, a red handprint marked onto your flesh.

You didn't hesitate to do as told, your legs trembling as you stood from the countertop and fell to your knees. Johnny stood over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair so that you could look him in the eye. Your mouth opened just enough for his tip to slip inside, your tongue flicking against it for a brief second. Johnny's head tilted back, a groan falling from his lips. "Yeah baby, taste yourself on my cock."

The words shook you straight to your core, but you went along with it nonetheless. His hips bucked closer to your head, the movements sending his throbbing cock further down your throat. Your muscles tightened, a small cough erupting as your eyes squeezed shut. Johnny cut you a bit of slack, the feeling so relieving you hummed against his skin in reply. Looking up at him with those wide eyes of yours made Johnny push himself further. You could’ve sworn his length made its way to the very back of your throat as he fucked himself into you. Your salivating mouth and small swirls of your tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout his body. His grip on your hair grew tighter, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat at a much swifter pace. Johnny let out a groan, the sound coming from the depths of his lungs. He came to a slow stop, the smirk on his face saying it all.

“Swallow it. Swallow,” he urged, keeping his cock buried down your throat.

You were more than happy to swallow, the adrenaline rush and desire for him fulfilling your every move. You grimaced but swallowed nonetheless - a droplet of his warm cum running down your chin as he pulled himself out. You let out a deep exhale, panting as Johnny held a hand out to you. You steadied yourself up with his help and used the back of your hand to wipe the remains off your skin.

“Johnny, I needed that so badly~” you spoke in between breathless exhales, trying to bring your breathing down to a more natural speed.

Johnny only smiled in response, watching as your figure wobbled beside the counter, your hands on his forearms to keep yourself up. “I know it. I missed you…honestly - I did.”

The words of reassurance fluttered through your heart, a gut feeling arising that your story wasn't over with him. You looked into Johnny’s lustful gaze, knowing he was holding back. “You know you're mine though, right? I don't ever want to see you movin’ on with some guy at a party - you hear?”

Johnny placed a soft yet meaningful kiss on your lips, pulling away in an instant as he awaited a reply. Wrapping your arms around him neck, a few tipsy kisses placed onto his jaw sealed the deal. You were his once more.

[winchesterwild78]

Thankful for You

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester X Reader (wife), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Cass, Jack

Warnings: Just a little holiday fluff.

A/N: Just a short story about Thanksgiving Day in the bunker. The reader and Dean are newly married and she wants their first Thanksgiving as a married couple to be perfect. 

I picked Dean instead of Jensen or any of his other characters, because Dean was the one who wouldn’t know what a traditional Thanksgiving would look like.

Does not follow the Supernatural story line. Used characters from the show, but all work is my own. I do not own the rights to these characters. 

Please don’t take my work. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.

Written fast and not edited, please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

I woke up early, Dean’s arm laying loosely over my body. I slipped out of bed to our shared bathroom and took a quick shower. I needed to get the turkey on so it could be ready before everyone came over.

Dean and I had been married about 6 months and this was our first real Thanksgiving. Since he grew up in the hunting life, Thanksgiving wasn’t something he celebrated. I on the other hand always had the traditional Thanksgiving with all the food, football and family you could handle. 

I had bought a turkey, ham, rolls, yams, potatoes, green beans, stuffing, and of course pie. I knew I wouldn’t have time to bake all the pies, so I bought a few, but wanted to make Dean a cherry pie from scratch. 

I was thankful we had multiple ovens in the bunker, otherwise there was no way I could pull off roasting a turkey, making a ham and the pie in one day. 

After my shower I went into the kitchen and prepared the turkey. Once it was in the oven I started on the pie and ham. By the time Dean got up I was washing and peeling potatoes. 

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. His arms were crossed over his firm chest, and his feet crossed at the ankles. He smiled as he watched me flit around the kitchen.

“Need any help, sweetheart.” His voice startled me. I looked up at him and bit my lip. God I was so incredibly lucky to have him. “Good morning, Dean. No, I'm okay right now.”

He crossed the room, came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into his chest and he kissed my temple. “Do I smell pie?” He grinned. 

“Yes you do, but it’s in the oven. You have to wait.” Dean’s bottom lip poked out in a pout. I turned and faced him, placing my hands on his chest. “Dean, it’s not ready yet. You have to wait.” “Is that the only pie?” He asked with a smirk. 

“Now what do you think?” I said as I walked towards the counter. I held up the pumpkin pie and a grin spread across his face. He took three steps towards me and took the pie out of my hand with a chuckle. 

“Dean Winchester, give that back to me. That’s for later.” He laughed as he held it over my head. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Can’t reach it? You’re welcome to have it back if you can reach it.” 

“Oh you’re so mean.” We both were laughing and I kept jumping, trying to reach the pie. Sam appeared at the door and saw us playing around. He loved seeing his brother so happy. 

“Alright you two, get a room.” He said as he walked in to grab a coffee. “Sam, please tell your brother to give me back the pie. It’s for later.” Sam chuckled, threw his hands up in defeat, “You’re on your own shortstack. I thought you’d know by now to never get in the way of Dean and his pie.” 

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side, Sammy.” I said as I kept trying to get the pie. “Thanks baby brother.” Dean laughed.

“Alright, both of you, out of my kitchen. I have dinner to finish and you’re distracting me, Dean.” Dean placed the pie down, pulled me flush to him and kissed my lips. 

“God I love you, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re mine.” “I love you too, Dean, and you better believe it. Until my last breath, I’m yours.” 

Dean walked out of the kitchen and turned back to look at me again. His heart leaped in his chest. 

I finished getting the rest of the food prepared and I set the dining room table. Sam invited Eileen, Jack and Cass were coming, and of course Dean and I would be there. I was excited to have all of our family there to help celebrate Thanksgiving. 

As I stepped into mine and Dean’s room I found him sitting at his desk writing. I hadn’t seen him write in a long time. He told me when we first started dating he would write sometimes to help with his anxiety. 

“Hey, baby. I’m just gonna jump in the shower before everyone gets here.” I said as I stepped into the room. Dean looked up, “Okay sweetheart. I’ll be done here in a minute.” I lightly touched his shoulder, “Okay Dean.”

“Hey sweetheart?” I turned to look at Dean from the bathroom doorway, “Yes?” “I love you.” I smiled, “I love you too, Dean.”

About twenty minutes later I was showered, dressed and ready for dinner. When I walked into the room, Dean was gone and his journal was tucked away in its spot on the desk. I nervously bit my lip. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness creep into my heart. Dean was upset about something, but he was keeping it from me. I had worked so hard to get most of his walls down, it broke my heart to think there was something bothering him that he felt he couldn’t share with me. 

I took a deep breath and walked towards the dining room. Sam, Eileen, Cas and Jack were all there chatting. I looked around for Dean but didn’t see him. 

They all greeted me, “Hey Y/N. Everything looks delicious, are you ready to eat?” I smiled, “Sure, y’all dig in. I’m going to find Dean.” Sam looked up at me, “He’s in the garage.” I nodded and walked towards the garage. 

I heard Dean before I even got in the room. I walked over to Baby and saw Dean sitting in the car. His eyes met mine, “Damn.” He whispered, causing me to blush.

“Dean, dinner is ready. Let’s go eat.” Dean climbed out of the car and pulled me flush to him. “Look at how beautiful you look, sweetheart. I am one lucky man.” “Don’t you forget it, Mr. Winchester.” “I could never, Mrs. Winchester.” 

“Before we go, Y/N I wanted to talk to you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and bit my bottom lip, “Okay.” My voice barely a whisper. “I’ve done some pretty screwed up stuff in my life. I never thought I was worthy of anything, let alone love. Then I met you. I am thankful every single day I get to wake up next to you as your husband. You making this day special, this meal for us means so much to me. Nobody has ever loved me like you do. I know you saw me writing earlier, and I wanted to talk to you about that.” 

“Dean, you don’t have to. I know it’s how you deal with things in your head. Whatever you wrote, it’s okay if you keep it to yourself.” 

Dean stepped closer, “Baby I want to tell you. It’s about you, us.” “Okay, Dean. Whatever you have to say I can take it. No matter what it is.” My heart hammered in my chest. I was terrified and didn’t know why.

“Sweetheart, I’m ready.” I looked at him confused. “Ready to eat?” I asked. Dean chuckled, “No, well, yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m ready to start a family with you. I want us to have those babies we talked about. I want to leave this world a little better than we found it.” 

My breath hitched, “What? You really want to start a family?” “Yes, Y/N. I want to start a family with you. I can’t wait to see our babies and raise them by your side.” 

I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist. “Yes, Dean! A thousand times yes! Let’s have a baby.” Dean kissed me deeply, “Wanna go start now?” He winked. 

“As much as I would, we do have a table full of guests who are hungry.” Dean chuckled, “You’re right. Let’s go eat. I can’t wait to get some of that pie you made.” “I can’t wait to start a family with you, Dean.” He grabbed my hand, “Me either, darlin’.” 

Dean and I walked into the dining room and greeted everyone. As I sat down and looked around the table at my family I smiled. I loved every single person sitting here with me, and I couldn’t wait to bring a little one into this family. 

We love each other deeply, protect completely, and never give up on each other. I know our baby will grow up loved, strong and protected.

As dinner started to wrap up, Sam and Eileen announced they were going to be getting married, Cas and Jack were rebuilding heaven, and Dean announced he and I were going to work on starting a family. 

Everyone was excited for us. Jack stepped close to me and whispered in my ear. I looked at him and he nodded. 

My heart fluttered. Later that night, Dean and I laid in bed, after a few times of trying and he held me tight. 

“Y/N, thank you for a wonderful day. I am so thankful for you.” “Dean, I am thankful for you too, and our baby.” 

Dean’s brain took a second to catch what I said. His eyes shot open and he propped himself up on his elbow, “What baby?” I looked at my husband, deep in his green eyes, “Jack told me tonight I’m pregnant, Dean. We’re pregnant.” 

“Oh my god, sweetheart. I’m gonna be a dad?” “Yes, Dean. You’re going to be a dad.” Dean gently placed his strong, calloused hands on my belly and kissed my lips. “Now this is something to be thankful for.” “Yes it is, Dean. Happy Thanksgiving, my love.” Dean cupped my face, “Happy Thanksgiving to you too, sweetheart.” 

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[fanfiction4sooya]

Sly fox, dumb bunny

To that one anon that requested this a few days ago, hope you like it sweetie! 💖💖💖

Tw: breeding, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, unprotected sex, nipple play, G!P bada lee;

You and Bada became roommates when both went to SWF2, for your misery.

She was pretty, yes, but you personally found her insufferable on so many levels it was insane. She loved to bully, tease, and overall irritate you whenever she got the chance, always making some move on you and you hated it due to her fuckboy attitude and extreme laid back personality. You tried to switch rooms with any other girl but the answer was always the same: 'Bada doesn't allow any of us to switch with you, we have to obey her'.

"That annoying asshole" You angrily muttered, leaving the practice room when she arrived, slyly smirking at you.

"Where are you going?" She sprinted, catching up with you in a second given her big legs.

"Some place you are not" You drank your coffee, irritated at her presence as you pressed the elevetor button, you just wanted to get away from her.

She looked specially good in a sleeveless basketball jersey and baggy jeans, cap covering her eyes and sneakers. 'Fuckboy' You thought to yourself., entering the elevator.

"You know you can't runaway from me, I'm everywhere" She held the elevator's door, biting her lower lip. "Specially on your mind, little bunny" She raised her eyebrows and you fake vomited.

"Are you desperate because you can't pull any girls with those horrible pick up lines?" She shrugged, smiling. "I'll give you a tip" You said, getting closer to her as her amused eyes followed your moves. You looked up at her, touching the hand that held the door, taking it from there. "keep quiet, you are pretty when you aren't talking shit" You smiled as the doors closed on her dumbfounded face.

It was always like that, always teasing you in front of everyone, her eyes following you everywhere as you danced or actually did anything. She was undeniably hot, yes, but she pissed you off 24/7.

You were leaving the shower as she was leaning onto the kitchen table drinking water, using only a bra and grey sweatpants. You stopped on your tracks, she haven't noticed you only on your towel as her abs smoothly moved as she drank the liquid, your eyes roamed around to the front of her sweatpants, a very large bulge caught your attention.

"Found something you want?" her voice took you from your trance, making you slightly jump.

"jesus" You raised your hand to you chest, gulping.

"Oh, you found jesus?" She smiled, stepping closer to where you were.

"I..." You looked around. "I found out you've been drinking water straight from the house bottle" You tried to come up with an excuse. "And I don't know were you've been putting your lips so... you better stop that" You tried to sound demanding, but her abs and that huge thing kept distracting you.

"Oh, were you thinking about where my lips were?" She hid both hands on her pockets and you got beet red. "you are so obsessed with me" She teased and laughed. "Its okay, I'm obsessed over you too, bunny" She smiled, stepping a little bit further. "It's like you've hexed me, you know?" You rolled your eyes.

"If I knew how to hex people, why would I do it to you out of everyone I know?" She bit her lip, her relaxed posture maddening you. "You are unbelievably delusional, oh my god" You scoffed. "I'm going to get dressed and leave you here, please seek some help" You passed her, heat pooling between your legs as you walked away.

"Oh my god" You locked yourself in your bedroom, trying to catch your breath as your mind kept spinning around to that huge thing between her legs. "I need a girlfriend" You said to yourself, gulping.

Some days had passed and still couldn't shake that horny feeling off. To your surprise one of your sunbaes asked you out and you gladly accepted, thinking it would be great to distract you and of course, maybe you even get a girlfriend out of this.

"Going out?" Bada said, appearing right behind you as you put on your earrings to match with your flowy white dress.

"Not that is any of your business, but I have a date tonight" You stared at her through the mirror. Her nostrils slightly flared as she got a bit more serious than normal.

"Do I know the person?" She crossed her arms.

"Of course you do" You turned to her. "It's Noze" She scoffed.

"That less hot, less talented version of me?" She said and you rolled your eyes.

"You are so full of yourself, Bada" She locked her jaw, a heavy sigh leaving her lips and your turned back to the mirror. She got closer to your back, her voice low and serious.

"I'm older than you" Her breath fanned over your neck as she spoke. "You should address me with more respect" That dangerous tone made your cunt pulse inside your panties, but she didn't need to know that, of course.

"As if I had any respect for you" Your voice sounded small and unsure, but of course she didn't pay any attention to your tone. That was the last straw for her, as she shoved you face first on the mirror, not hard enough to hurt but enough to startle you.

Her body pressed against yours felt hot and heavy, her cock pressed against your butt as she trapped you there.

"You like talking back don't you, little bunny?" She growled on your ear and you whimpered.

"let go of me" Again, unsure.

"You know what? I should let you go to that fucking date" She grinded against you and you lightly did it back, your self control completely leaving your body. "But before that I should fuck your brains out, leave you dripping with my cum, breed you full" You whimpered, closing your eyes.

"Shut up" You breathed out thickly swallowing.

"You would love that, I know" She pressed harder and you shivered, backing against her hard cock. It felt even bigger now as you literally felt it grow. "Tell me you'd like that" She kissed your neck, both hands on the mirror as you were trapped there.

You felt yourself go insane, your wetness seeping through your panties as she pulled down one of the straps of your dress, kissing your shoulder. You moaned as one of your hands tried to palm her cock over her pants and she rolled her eyes when you managed to do it.

"Oh so now the little bunny wants to play?" She teased you, roaming her hands on your breasts over the dress, pulling it down to reveal your tits. She moaned staring at the mirror and you shut your eyes.

Turning you around she roughly kissed you, her hard on poking your clothed tummy. Her tongue swirled around yours and you moaned against her, your arms hugging her neck as she swiftly lift you up, your legs around her waist. She kept kissing you, pressing your back against the wall.

She was everything you've ever dreamed of: tall, strong, had a huge dick and kissed amazingly; oh you hated her.

"Fuck me" You said against her lips, whimpering. And of course she teased you about it.

"No please?" She said, laying with you on the carpet between your legs. You didn't question her on why her choice was the floor and not the bed, but you were definitely in no position to question anything. "I don't know if you can take me bunny" She cockily said and you rolled you eyes.

In a burst of strength you flipped her over, her back now touching the floor with you on top, straddling her waist and slowly grinding over her cock.

"Who do you think you are?" You scoffed, already pulling it out of her pants and boxers and as expected, it was huge. Heavy and hung, her balls full and with little to no hair. 'Even her cock is pretty, fuck' You thought to yourself.

"I told you" She smiled up at you, sitting down to lick on of your nipples, hugging your waist. You moaned, licking your lips as you pushed her down again, spitting on her big cock to lubricate it.

It was huge, yes, but mama didn't raise no bitch.

Pushing your panties to the side you immediately grazed the tip of her cock on your wet slit and she hissed, her eyes dark with lust. Laying back with her hands behind her head she smirked at you struggling to fully take her, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you slowly sunk on her whole length. She moaned when your stretched cunt fully did it, touching her hips with yours. You supported your weight on her chest, lightly scratching her over the shirt.

"Fuck bunny" She breathed out, you didn't wait and started to ride her, her cock reaching places you had neer felt before.

It started out slow and steady as you whimpered, already shaking. She grabbed your ass lifting you up to fully slam you back on her cock, amazed by how well you took her.

You bounced on her cock, your tits jumping up and down as you stared at her beautiful face, locking eyes with her. Fucking hell, that woman knew how to keep eye contact like no one else. You smirked at her awe expression, clenching hard when she started thrusting up alongside with pulling you down, even harder.

"fuck bunny, you are creaming on my dick" She furrowed her eyebrows, her addams apple beautifully exposed as she threw her head back and you leaned forward to kiss it, then her neck. She pulled your face with one hand to lick your lips and her other hand held your hips to slam into you hard.

"I'm gonna cum-oh my fucking god" You moaned on her lips, throwing your head back as she took one of your nipples to her mouth to suck it.

"I'm gonna cum in your pretty hole too" Her voice sounded more steady, but by the way her dick throbbed inside you, you felt how desperate she was as well. "I'm gonna breed you so well bunny, fuck" She kissed your neck, her hips faltering as her hot seed painted your insides. So much you fell forward, knees on the carpet and your hips up, completely pulsing on her dick.

She didn't took it out just yet, shallowing fucking your spent hole and you softly moaned, pushing yourself up so your faces would align as you looked into her dark eyes.

"You won't tire me out in a long time bunny, don't even think about leaving for now" she fucked you a bit harder, kissing your lips as you moaned.

"Too much..." Your voice came out hoarse.

"Shh, it's okay" She said, using your hole to cum one more time, throbbing hard inside you.

She pulled out, her cock wet and red, her cum oozing out of you made you whimper as it fell on her abs. She hissed, staring at your glossy eyes, smirking.

"still thinking about going on that date?" She sat down with you on her lap, kissing your neck.

"You are so annoying" You rolled your eyes when she sucked a hickey on your skin. "Don't leave marks on me" you weakly said, scratching her arms.

"I have to let her know I was here, bunny" She smiled against your skin.

"Why do you keep calling me bunny?" You lightly slapped her arm and she laughed, hugging your waist.

"You remind me of that Zootopia bunny, that bossy and easily irritated one" You allowed yourself to laugh too.

"well if I'm the bunny, you are that fox" She shrugged, pointing at her then at you.

"Sly fox, dumb bunny" You playfully rolled your eyes.

"You are insufferable" She bit your lower lip, laying your back on the carpet again.

"Oh, that I am" She laid on her stomach, kissing your thigh. "and I know you prefer me with my mouth shut so let me get my mouth busy, little bunny"

Next thing you knew she was shoving her tongue inside you, licking her own cum mixed with yours.