#this scenario will not leave my mind. i want to write a fic that i do not have time to write

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

thingol: making my way downtown thingol: walking fast salesman: sir can i interest you in an erotic painting of the renowned interspecies lovers beren erchamion, the onehanded, head of the house of beor, and luthien tinuviel, daughter of flowers and twilight, princess of doriath-- thingol: walking faster

(based on this by @serene-faerie)

[scottiexmariee]

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead 

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public. 

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared. 

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over. 

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario. 

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries. 

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline. 

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap. 

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 

Xavier almost giggled. 

“So….you slapped him?” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious. 

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else. 

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient. 

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here. 

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave. 

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car. 

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress. 

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color. 

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss. 

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted. 

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand. 

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid. 

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated. 

You swallowed. 

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping. 

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of. 

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior. 

And then, she just….kept going. 

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled. 

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing. 

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him. 

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke. 

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,” 

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course. 

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,” 

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either. 

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art. 

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding. 

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel. 

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night. 

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted. 

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?” 

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled. 

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,” 

“It’s different,” 

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,” 

“Rafayel. You were the art,” 

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence. 

You were the art. 

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter. 

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him. 

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause. 

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates. 

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,” 

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest. 

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.  

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he. 

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension. 

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you. 

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of?  The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in? 

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field. 

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes. 

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it. 

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard. 

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear.  “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.” 

Oh? 

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,” 

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway.  So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing. 

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself. 

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions. 

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment. 

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.  

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room. 

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you. 

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad. 

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out. 

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd 

[poisoned-fruit-prose]

𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥.

synop: viktor is upset with you. the walls are closing in on your identity. you have nowhere to turn but away.

wc: 2.4k.

request from anon: Your Viktor X mage reader is so GOOD!!! It made me so happy considering that my oc is a mage and works with Viktor and Jayce! If you have time, could you maybe write something in the same scenario (reader being a mage, working with the boys on Hextech + dating Viktor) but where the reader had been hiding that they're a mage and now they have to confess it to the boys and explain why they understand the arcane so unusually well? So sorry if this is worded badly, and if you don't want to write it that's perfectly fine! Have a great day/night!! -🦖

includes: hurt/comfort. happy (?) ending.

author's note: i do apologize that i couldn't fit jayce into here, but i think we all know he'd just wag his tail and perk his ears up and love you all the same. (...puppy-coded jayce x reader fic, anyone?)

“It’s almost as if you already know how this all works.”

Viktor’s words made you freeze.

Hextech was beginning to reek with magic. There were jumps in logic that were far too great for science; it was you, mucking up information, crafting runes, testing things that made no sense to a non-magical mind, one that didn’t possess your internal compass. Viktor and Jayce were along for the ride at the beginning, but the explosive success of the Hexgates and the novelty of the technology’s potential was fading into careful study—a form of work that would expose your abilities and leave you vulnerable to accusations like Viktor’s.

But you didn’t already know how it all worked. Magic was an unknowable thing; it was a plane above you, surging through you in ways you’d never fully understand, not within your lifetime. You were working merely off these fleeting moments where magic, instead of your mind or even your heart, guided you. Magic told you where to step—it didn’t tell you why, it didn’t bother to explain, and it most certainly didn’t care how it appeared to the rest of the world.

It was only a matter of time before your “genius” was seen more as prescience. You no longer had a simple knack for the arcane. You were now a hostile guard of secrets that would otherwise better the world. It just broke your heart that it was Viktor who saw through it first. That he’d have to be the first to be bear your burden.

His words bit with little subtlety. It was late. Desk lamps glowed a harsh white, washing out his already pallor skin and exacerbating the bags hanging beneath his eyes. You didn’t know if he already suspected your abilities, but you now knew he most certainly noticed how you stumbled through every technicality yet were still, always, ten steps ahead of him.

Maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was sleep deprivation, maybe you were looking too far into it all. But you could only respond with nothing. Your mouth hung agape for a moment before snapping shut. You fled the lab. He didn’t follow.

You retreated to the university’s sprawling library; it was too cold for the garden and too late for anywhere else. You buried yourself in books and words when the world became unbearable but, tonight, fatigue and despair clouded your ability to focus. You found yourself crying in a study nook instead.

Somehow, in your attempt to protect the one you loved most, you found yourself driving a wedge between you instead. It sickened you.

“My, this isn’t what the library is for!”

You weren't sure how much time had passed before Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice chirped out beside your chair; a moment later, you heard him scuttle into the chaise beside you. You didn’t bother to look.

“Whatever is the matter, dear?”

You took a shaky breath as more tears escaped you. The Yordle clicked his tongue and reached into his coat pocket. After retrieving the handkerchief folded neatly inside, he reached out and passed it to you. You gave him a grateful look as you used it to dry your face.

You sniffled. He waited patiently.

“I… I fear I may not be able to work on Hextech anymore.”

“Oh, my—I understand your upset now. Why do you think that?”

“I just…” Your breath fluttered. “I think I’m causing an impasse. And I would rather Viktor and Jayce work on it alone instead of it being abandoned altogether.”

“You three are inseparable,” Heimerdinger insisted. “What in the world could you be doing that would call for such a drastic measure?”

You sobbed. “I… I can’t explain.”

“Surely it’s not your relationship with Viktor.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted firmly. “This… This would be a decision I’d make to save that. He and Hextech mean more to me than anything. Even my own participation.”

A quiet fell over you two—not uncomfortable, yet not devoid of thought either.

“...May I be honest with you, my dear?”

You nodded, finally looking over at him.

“I know you’re a mage.”

The blood drained from your body and the world shuddered upside down. You gaped at him in dread. The Yordle merely chuckled.

“Don’t be so worried—if I believed you were a threat, I would’ve turned you in long ago. But I have no reason to, nor any desire to.”

You allowed yourself to calm. A Council Member knowing was the worst possible scenario—but Heimerdinger had a soft spot for you in addition to thousands of years of experience. Fate graced you, of all people in all possible times, with magic. You were benevolent, incredibly sharp, and ambitious—and if there was anyone the Yordle believed should wield the arcane, it would be someone like you.

“...How did you find out?”

“Viktor and Jayce are not the only ones who have noticed the leaps you make in your studies.”

You nodded weakly. “...What’s going to happen to me?”

“Nothing at all, dear. I’ll admit, I was quite fearful when I put the pieces together. After all, magic is a very dangerous thing—even an inexperienced or feeble mage holds far more power than any non-user. Yet I cannot deny the work you have done for the world through Hextech. You have proven your worth, your passion, and your goodness. I don’t believe the public should know you’re a mage, for obvious reasons, but I do believe you have a duty to continue your research. Your abilities give you an invaluable advantage.”

You sniffled. “But Viktor… I fear he’s building up resentment because of that. I can’t… I can’t keep doing that to him, sir.”

“I have lived a very, very long life—trust me when I say a relationship such as yours is a true marvel. His resentment is understandable, but it is a drop of water in the ocean of adoration he has for you. Severing your ties to Hextech will only summon a storm. You must tell him the truth.”

“What if he hates me for it?”

“My dear, he leaves the lab when you merely ask him to. He’s going to marry you.”

You were exhausted, but you still ran back to the lab. The moon yawned from behind the windows over an empty chair and a desk in disarray. Viktor was upset with you, so you knew he wouldn’t be home—which left a single place he could possibly be.

Viktor sat on the ledge of the maintenance shaft. His eyes hung heavy but his mind whirred as he played the way you left the lab, defeated, over and over against his skull. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You were the love of his life, his irreplaceable partner in Hextech, and his closest friend. He had frustrations, naturally, but he allowed them to escape their leash and lash out at you. Then, once they had finished with you, they turned and began to gnaw on him.

Your hand was warm on his shoulder. He knew it was you immediately. He turned to meet your gaze, expression somber, hand jumping to yours.

“Miláčku,” he breathed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you settled beside him. You squeezed his hand, rested your head on his shoulder. A wave of relief washed over him. “I’m sorry too.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“No, I have. I’ve been keeping something important from you.”

You opened your free hand. A single rune nestled in your palm. Viktor gave you a confused look.

“A rune? I don’t understand—”

Without so much as the utterance of a word, the wave of a gesture, or any visible exertion of effort whatsoever, the stone began to glow a familiar blue as it lifted itself from your skin. It levitated, revolving slowly, as Viktor finally grasped what was happening.

“...You’re a mage,” he whispered. The truth shifted the air. You nodded as your hand began to shake. Your fear cleaved your connection with the arcane and the rune fell, lifeless, back into your hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His words were clipped. Panic made you defensive. Disagreements were common in science, but you and Viktor rarely had them outside the lab doors. The irregularity of this, compounded with the danger of magic and fatigue, made you both a little more upset than you should’ve been.

“If it wasn’t obvious, my kind isn’t exactly skipping through meadows hand-in-hand with non-users, Viktor.”

“The three of us are trying to change the world’s view on magic. You should’ve told Jayce and I much sooner—think of what we could’ve done if we knew this!"

Your head ripped off his shoulder to glare at him. “Telling you would’ve done nothing but put you in danger!”

“We could’ve made progress ten times faster!”

"This isn't about morals or philosophy, Viktor—this is life and death! That progress would be meaningless if it meant I had even a chance of losing you!"

Viktor always feared if he did not charge forward with perfect efficiency he would wither away, his life unimportant and impactless. But your words rung out in the night, struck Viktor and resonated through his body. Instantaneously, his world shifted. He saw the way you regarded him, how you held him as the pinnacle of your life. Even above Hextech. Above progress. You were scared. You cared about Hextech just as greatly as him; but what terrified you enough to conceal a crucial face of your own identity, to endure his acerbic comments, to consider abandoning your greatest passion, was not the discovery of your abilities or the destruction of your work.

It was the potential loss of him that came with it.

He finally understood. He saw the world through your eyes. He had been picking evolution over you, chasing importance and impact when he already had it cradled in his hands. He had become spiteful of the person he loved most dearly because you were making more progress. In that moment, he chose the path of his life.

He chose you. For what was progress to an empty man?

“...You would be worth dying for.”

The softness of Viktor’s voice made the anger in your shoulders and face immediately fall away; the actual statement made your heart tear apart. He would keep your secret even if it meant death upon discovery. He would forever share your burden.

You both immediately reached for each other. Viktor's hands took your face, pulling you to him with urgency as he kissed you fiercely. Your hands immediately ran up his chest, the sides of his neck, into the short hair at the nape, then fully into his locks. He snaked an arm around your middle to pull you flush against him; the mention of death only served to burn this moment in his memory. Should the worst happen, should you get caught and he lost you, he’d always remember the way your skin felt against his, how you kissed him like he mattered, how you felt like a well-loved puzzle piece against his own. There was no knowing where he ended and you began, and it terrified him how much he loved it, how he squeezed you closer to exacerbate it.

You only parted when your lungs burned. Panting, you shared breaths and atoms. Viktor bumped his forehead against yours and looked up at you with that gorgeous amber gaze. You were tearing up.

"I meant it," he murmured. Hands still on your cheeks, he thumbed the corners of your eyes, wanting to take the pain before it even started. He held you with more care than his runes, his inventions, his life's work. He held you in the way a priest cradled his scripture.

“Please don’t go doing that,” you murmured.

“Only if you don’t either.”

"I promise."

A quiet tension still scintillated in the air. “...I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. And for the back-handed comments. And accusing you of slowing down our progress.”

You couldn't help but laugh softly. “With a rap sheet like that I should quit anyways.”

“...You were going to quit?”

“Vik, I… The danger of being a mage—you were days from finding out. You were frustrated all the time and I was only dividing us further.”

“No, no more thinking like that.” He grabbed your arms, squeezed them. “You were not the reason for any of this. Hextech is our life’s work, and I can only hope that we continue on it until we die hunched over our papers; but I would give it all up to keep you at my side.”

“You don’t mean that, V.”

“What in the world makes you believe I don’t?” he asked incredulously, leaning in to catch your eyes again. His expression was earnest, adoring, nearly puppy-like from the sheer intensity of his concern.

“I—that’s just a very romantic statement.”

“You believe I’d die for you, but not that I’d give up Hextech for you? Surely you aren’t jealous of our creation.”

A beat. You both smiled. The tension broke with it, and the two of you devolved into laughter. The sound of it made Viktor’s heart just soar. The catharsis of an invention that finally worked, finishing a long book, understanding some complex idea—none of it compared to the way your voice rang out like bells when he made you laugh. Viktor nuzzled his nose beside yours. You reached up, thumbing his bottom lip.

“I'm not jealous. I just know neither of us could survive without Hextech in our lives.”

“Mm, I'm sure we’d find a way to pass the time.”

Viktor closed the gap between your lips again. You both smiled, kissing each other sleepily, unaware of just how prescient your words knelled.

dividers used: sparkles • star

[starmocha]

want me, need me, love me [Sylus/Reader ★ 1510 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] When you had made that plan to sell Sylus, you didn’t realize it would come back to (literally) bite you. A/N: This…was originally just a scenario, but I guess it turned into a ficlet in spite of my self-ban that I wasn’t going to write Sylus fics right now until I finish Bride of the Dragon King. In my defense, it’s only appropriate to post this during the cat banner and I always lie to myself <333 Snuck in some light breeding kink because @yourlocalcatscammer got into my brain and I fear I have already exposed myself enough with my last few fics so why bother hiding this anymore 🥹

It was pretend. Just a little ploy.

You knew it.

Sylus did too.

So how did it end up with you trapped underneath him on a couch, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his voice so hoarse and needy? He wouldn’t stop rubbing his cheek against you, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

“Sy-Sylus, what’s gotten into you?” You tried to push him off, but he was too heavy, too unwilling, too…gone. Was it because of the special gene product? It couldn’t have possibly rewired his whole demeanor, could it? You vaguely recalled him attempting to snatch a parrot earlier when, for a brief moment, the feline instinct in him was triggered. You continued to struggle. “Snap out of it!”

“Miss…you really are heartless,” he rasped, nibbling on your earlobe, “Letting another woman have me so casually?”

You flustered, confused. “What are you talking about?” You looked up at him wide-eyed, startled by the darkened gaze that peered down at you. You swallowed slowly, your words careful and measured, as if you were soothing an agitated wild animal, “Sylus…it wasn’t personal…”

He narrowed his eyes. “I know,” he said, his tone terse. His kissed along your shoulder, leaving little love bites along the way. You squirmed, feeling your body heating up under his feverish ministrations. He sighed and grunted softly, his touches growing bolder.

“Say I’m yours,” he mumbled into your neck, desperation laced his deep voice. He nuzzled his cheek against you over and over again, behaving just like a frustrated cat. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, making you shivered as he husked, “Let me be yours.”

Want me.

“Sy-Sylus, snap out of it! What are you—ah…” Your words died at your lips, a gasp escaped. He had pushed your shirt up, your bra unhooked and tossed to the side without a care. Without hesitation, the Onychinus leader took your sweet little nipple into his warm mouth, his tongue swirling leisurely around the sensitive nub, making you arched up, gasping and crying from the sudden electrifying stimulation.

He grinded languidly against you, and as he suckled greedily, he murmured, “…touch me…my…my ears…”

Your mind was hazy, teetering between rationality and the growing lust that was clouding your judgement. You looked down at the head of silvery-white hair against you and the pair of cat ears twitching restlessly atop Sylus’ head. Nimbly, your fingers stroked the sensitive feline ear, feeling the soft tufts of fur between your fingers. He hummed happily, and he sucked harder.

“Ah—!”

His hands reached down to grab your hips, keeping you grounded against the couch. He brushed against you, and you trembled, feeling his bulge over your skirt.

��Sy-Sylus…”

He looked up, the normally haughty expression that graced the feared and notorious Onychinus leader’s face was gone. Right now, he wore a different expression, one that only you were allowed to see. He looked at you lust-filled and wanting, his lips slightly parted, soft sighs escaping. His eyes softened a little, enough for you to notice.

Need me.

You felt a burning ache inside you, one that he had started, and one that you knew only he could quell. Those soft crimson eyes of his beckoned you closer, silently urging you to let go, to submit to the growing heat between the two of you.

Hesitantly, you leaned up, taking his lips for yourself, long and slow. Sylus stilled, surprised, seemingly taking his time to register the moment. When he realized you were answering his silent pleas, he smiled against your lips. His ears flattened back as he kissed you deeper, his hands fumbled with both your clothes.

Your panties slipped off, his pants unzipped, and his hardened member freed from its confines. He nudged his hip forward, the head of his cock pressed against your slick folds. You gasped and gripped his jacket.

“…Take me…” he mumbled lazily, his mouth finding your nipple again. Your other breast was massaged, caressed and shamelessly groped, your sweet, irresistible moans lured out, answered by his own deep, sultry groans as he suckled hungrily.

You whimpered helplessly, giving up on your attempt to resist him. You were aching so much right now, wanting and needing him in a way you had never felt before. Your fingers found their way into his hair, getting lost in the silky strands. “…Y-yes…”

He moved forward and you arched up, crying out. More and more of him eased in, his deep groans were intoxicating, your own desires igniting as he filled you, your walls stretching wonderfully around the massive intrusion. You buried your face into his neck when he bottomed out, gasping into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around you securely. He guided you away from his shoulder and you lay beneath him nearly sobbing in frustration. He looked down at you, flushed cheeks and vulnerable. Again, his warm breath fanned against your mouth as he asked softly, “…Can I…”

“Yes!” You interrupted, your moans tumbling out as he started to move, slowly at first before he built a faster rhythm. Again, you vaguely wondered if he was still lost, still submissive to his feline instincts, because the way he was moving was much more animalistic than you would have expected. It was hurried, graceless, feral, but it was filling you just the way you wanted, the way you needed right now.

Every delicious stroke of his length had you mumbling deliriously, lost in this moment of heavenly pleasure. “Mm…ah…ah…Sy…Sylus…”

His lips found yours again, taking your moans selfishly. He groaned as you clenched around him. “…fuck…Miss…”

You cried out as he spread you more, pushing your legs back, taking you even deeper. “Oh god, oh god…!”

“Mm…breed you…need to breed you…make you mine…m…yours…yours…” He was moving more erratic, his words so frenzied and incoherent, you weren’t sure if he was even registering what he was saying. He was driven purely by a natural need, an instinct so feral, he seemed more animal than man in this moment.

You felt infected by him, by his words, your own traitorous body craving what he was saying. “Ah…yes…yes…ah…breed me…breed me, Sylus…” You weren’t thinking clearly anymore. There wasn’t a single rational thought left in your little head. The only thing you could focus on was his powerful thrusts, reaching you deep where you needed.

“O-oh, Sylus…”

So close. So close, you could feel yourself peaking. Just a little more, almost, almost—

“Mm…Miss…inside…?”

“Yes!” You cried out, your pitch higher than normal, so desperate and needy. He thrusted forward, pushing in even deeper with a heavy groan. His eyes met yours for a moment before you closed yours, screaming out your climax as he coated your walls with his seeds, filling you fuller than you thought was possible.

Distantly, you could hear Sylus mumbling in between his moans.

Love me.

“…mine…yours…yours…”

You panted softly, hearing his own breathing matching your own. You moaned, whimpering as he pulled out, feeling his seed dripping out of your cunt. Slowly, you opened your eyes, seeing Sylus’ flushed face close to yours. He still appeared to be under his feline influence, looking dazed and lost.

Your eyes traveled all over, taking in his satiated expression, seeing the sweats on his glistened skin.

“Ah…oh, I have my lipstick on you.” You touched his lips, seeing red lipstick smeared across. You rubbed your thumb against his mouth, trying to wipe it clean. He stopped you.

He smiled, almost delirious with joy. “Good,” Sylus husked, “You should cover me all over. Mark me as yours.”

Before you could respond, his face was buried in your chest again, his arms tightening around your waist. He nuzzled against you, behaving much more docile now. You rubbed the back of his head for a bit, the soothing act calming him even more. It didn’t take long before you realized he had fallen asleep on top of you. His breathing had slowed, the rhythm steady. He seemed much more relaxed than he was earlier.

You scratched the feline ear atop his head, smiling softly when it twitched in response to your light touch. Sylus instinctively hummed softly in his sleep, pleased.

When he would wake up later, you wondered would he even have remembered what had happened? Would he remember how he had behaved, the words he had spoken? Would he deny it? Make excuses?

You smiled.

You didn’t particularly care. You saw the real him. He would always lower his guard around you, always be transparent about how he felt about you, and now tonight, you realized it wasn’t just that he desired you, but he wanted you to reciprocate as well. Wanted you to be possessive of him, to want and need him in the same way that he felt for you.

To be equally possessive of one another, a mutual obsession with one another.

You almost laughed aloud. Why, what an exquisite idea, you thought to yourself.

You kissed your fingers before pressing them along Sylus’ cheek. He purred softly.

How cute.

[novaursa]

Hello my love! I absolutely adore your writings and wanted to send a request that might prompt some imagination.

I would love a fic where the reader is velaryon (rhaenyras daughter) and married to cregan stark through a marriage alliance. They have grown to love eachother and have one child, a young son, and reader has a dragon. Reader is a dragon rider and may ride into battle with her dragon for her mother’s cause.

Whilst cregan is needed at the wall, a handful of men—sent by the greens in response to blood and cheese—sneak into winterfell with a mission; kill/take readers dragon or pay the price with her son. After killing the guards and a fight where reader tries to defend herself and her son, (maybe resulting in reader getting injured) the men give reader the option. Her dragon or her son. (I’ll leave the choice/what happens up to you 🤭)

cregan soon gets word about what has happened and rushes back to the aftermath.

it would be an honour if you were to even consider my ask 🥰

thank you for all you do and the joy you bring to this side of tumblr <3

The Cycle

- Summary: Cregan leaves with his duty to the Wall and you are left alone with a choice Larys Strong brings.

- Pairing: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and is bonded with Grey Ghost.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Alternative scenario: one for the price of two

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

- A/N: I hope this is what you had in mind, dear anon. ☺️❤️

Winterfell is quieter than you have ever known it. The grand halls that once echoed with the clamor of swords and laughter are hushed, the absence of Cregan’s men leaving an emptiness that stretches through every corridor. Outside, the sky is smothered in a blanket of heavy clouds, the winds howling mournfully, as if they sense the danger that lingers just beyond the gates.

Your son, Eddard, sleeps soundly in his cradle, his tiny fists curled by his face, the sight of him softening the edges of your worry. You brush a gentle kiss to his brow, your thoughts drifting to Cregan, away at the Wall with his men, fulfilling his duties to the Night’s Watch. The last thing he said to you before leaving echoes in your mind.

“Winterfell is safe. You are safe.” His grey eyes were serious, his hand warm against your cheek as he spoke.

You had believed him then, believed in the strength of the castle walls and the loyalty of the men who guarded it. But you can’t shake the unease prickling at the back of your neck, a mother’s intuition whispering warnings in your ear.

The first scream splits the night like an axe through ice. You jolt upright, heart hammering, and before you can even grasp what is happening, the door to your chambers bursts open. Figures, shadowed and swift, flood the room. Larys Strong’s men, their faces obscured by masks, their blades gleaming in the dim light.

“Stay back!” you cry out, instinctively placing yourself between them and Eddard’s crib. Your hand reaches for the dagger hidden beneath your pillow, but one of them is faster, knocking it from your grip and seizing your wrist with bruising force.

“Princess Velaryon, or is it just Lady Stark now? There’s no need for heroics,” the leader sneers, his voice a sickly mix of mockery and menace. “We’re here to deliver a message.”

They drag you from the room, your protests muffled by a rough hand clamped over your mouth. Your heart pounds as they force you down the twisting stairs, through the empty halls, until you’re thrust out into the freezing night. Your breath plumes in the air as you look up, dread curling in your stomach.

Grey Ghost is there, your dragon, your bond. Chained and wounded, his scales stained with blood, his wings pinned cruelly to the ground. He lets out a weak, rumbling growl as he sees you, his eyes gleaming with pain and anger.

“No…” you whisper, struggling against the iron grip of your captors. “No, please—”

Larys Strong steps forward then, his smile a twisted, grotesque parody of civility. “You see, Y/N, the Dowager Queen in King’s Landing sends her regards. The blood of a child for the blood of a child, was it not?”

The horror of what he means dawns on you, a sickening wave of realization that turns your limbs to lead. The butcher and the ratcatcher. The trap your mother and Daemon had laid for the Greens. And now, here in the cold North, the Greens have come for you.

“Your dragon or your son,” Larys says softly, almost kindly, as if he were offering you a choice of fine wines. “One lives. One dies. You decide.”

You can barely breathe, the cold air clawing at your throat as you shake your head in disbelief. “No… please, don’t do this… Eddard is just a babe, he’s done nothing—”

Larys cocks his head, feigning sympathy. “Nor did little Jaehaerys. Yet your mother saw to his death, didn’t she?”

Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to stand tall, to meet his gaze. “If you kill him, I swear on the gods, old and new, I will burn you all to ash.”

Larys’s smile widens, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Such fire. But threats won’t change anything, my lady. You have until the count of ten.”

The men around you tighten their grip, and you know, with a cold, sick certainty, that they will carry out his command. That you will lose one, either your sweet son, innocent and helpless, or Grey Ghost, who has fought beside you, who has bled and burned for your family’s cause.

“One,” Larys begins, his voice calm, measured.

You look at Eddard, bundled against the biting cold, his eyes wide and trusting as they meet yours. He doesn’t understand. He’s too young to understand what is being asked of you.

“Two.”

Grey Ghost lets out a low, mournful wail, his tail lashing weakly against the chains that bind him. You can feel his pain, his fear, through the bond you share, a connection forged in fire and blood.

“Three.”

The world narrows to the beat of your heart, the silent plea in Eddard’s eyes, the agony in Grey Ghost’s. How can you choose? How can any mother be asked to make such a choice?

“Four.”

Your hands are shaking, the words trapped in your throat. You want to scream, to beg, to offer anything, everything, if it will just make this nightmare end.

“Five.”

But there is no mercy in Larys’s gaze, no compassion in the men who hold you.

“Six.”

Grey Ghost’s roar rises, a desperate, broken sound that tears through the night.

“Seven.”

Eddard’s small, soft cry, frightened and confused, cuts through your soul.

“Eight.”

You look at Larys, the man who holds your fate in his hands, and you know that there is no victory here, no way to save them both.

“Nine.”

“I choose…” The words scrape out of you, each one a knife to your heart. “I choose my son.”

Larys’s smile is slow, triumphant, as if he had won some great game. He turns, gestures to his men. “Kill the dragon.”

“No!” The scream rips from your throat as they move toward Grey Ghost, their weapons drawn. You struggle, kicking, biting, but they hold you fast, forcing you to watch as the blades rise and fall, as your dragon, your beloved Grey Ghost, thrashes and roars, his blood staining the snow red.

You sob, your heart shattering with each cruel blow, each gasping breath your dragon takes. He fought for you, for your family, and now he dies, his life ended by your choice, your terrible, necessary choice.

When it is over, the silence is deafening, the night air thick with the smell of blood and death. Larys releases you then, his gaze almost pitying. “There, you see? It wasn’t so difficult.”

You collapse to your knees, your body shaking with grief and rage, unable to tear your eyes from Grey Ghost’s still form. Eddard cries out, and you gather him to you, clutching him close, his tiny warmth the only anchor in a world that has gone cold and dark.

Larys steps back, his work done, his men already withdrawing into the shadows. “Remember, Lady Stark,” he calls over his shoulder. “A debt paid in blood can always be collected again.”

As the night closes in around you, the promise of vengeance burns in your veins. You have lost so much, but you will not break. You will rise from this. For your son. For Grey Ghost. And you will see the Greens pay for every drop of blood they have spilled.

The journey back to Winterfell is swift and relentless, Cregan pushing his horse hard across the snow-swept landscape. There’s a weight in his chest, a gnawing dread that had taken root the moment he received the ravens’ grim message at the Wall. The North is no stranger to death and violence, but the attack on Winterfell, the heart of his home, is a scar he never thought he’d bear.

As the castle looms into view, his heart stutters at the sight. The once proud and imposing stronghold is shrouded in a somber silence, the gates barely guarded, the towers and walls bearing the signs of a vicious struggle. It’s as if the very soul of Winterfell has been drained away, leaving only a husk.

He rides through the gate, dismounting even before his horse fully stops. The few men left in the yard stand grim and silent, their eyes shadowed with exhaustion and grief. There are still bloodstains on the stones, patches of crimson stark against the pristine snow, a testament to the horrors that have transpired.

“Where is she?” he demands, his voice a low, urgent growl. “Where is my wife?”

One of his men, Ser Bryndon, steps forward, his face lined with fatigue and sorrow. “In the Great Hall, my lord. She’s… she hasn’t left her chambers much since the attack.”

Cregan’s heart clenches. He brushes past them, striding through the courtyard, the cold biting at his exposed skin, but he hardly feels it. Every step echoes in the eerily quiet halls, the silence pressing in around him like a vice.

When he reaches the Great Hall, he pauses, bracing himself for what he might find. The heavy wooden doors creak open under his hand, and he steps inside, his eyes sweeping the shadowed space.

There, at the far end of the hall, you sit by the fire, a small, fragile figure in the vast, empty room. You are clutching Eddard to your chest, his small form bundled in blankets, your body curled protectively around him. The flames cast flickering shadows across your face, highlighting the dark circles beneath your eyes, the pallor of your skin.

“Y/N…” His voice is rough, almost breaking, as he crosses the room in a few long strides.

You look up at the sound of his voice, your eyes red and hollow, and for a moment, you just stare at him as if unsure if he’s real or another cruel vision conjured by your grief. Then, with a broken sob, you are in his arms, clutching at his furs, your body trembling with the force of your anguish.

“Cregan…” Your voice is a ragged whisper, muffled against his chest. “They took him from me. They took Grey Ghost.”

He holds you tightly, one arm around your shoulders, the other cradling your son. His heart twists at the sight of you, at the haunted look in your eyes, the way you cling to him as if he is the only thing anchoring you to this world. “I’m here,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

Your breath shudders out of you in a broken gasp, and you shake your head. “It’s not your fault… It’s them. Larys Strong… he made me choose, Cregan. He made me choose between Eddard and Grey Ghost.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He can feel your pain, your guilt, as if it were his own. He tightens his hold on you, his jaw clenched against the fury and helplessness threatening to overwhelm him. “You did what you had to do,” he says fiercely, his voice low and steady. “You protected our son. That’s what matters.”

But he knows, even as he says it, that it will never be enough to ease the agony in your heart. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you curl in on yourself, as if trying to shield yourself from a blow that has already struck. And the sight of it breaks something deep inside him.

“I should have been here,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I should have protected you both.”

You pull back slightly, your hand coming up to cup his face, your touch gentle despite the tremor in your fingers. “You are here now,” you say, your voice a soft, wavering thread. “That’s what I need. You and Eddard… we’ll get through this. Somehow.”

He nods, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He looks down at your son, at the innocence in his small face, the way he sleeps so peacefully despite the storm that has raged around him. Cregan’s heart aches with love and sorrow and a fierce, unyielding determination.

“I will make them pay,” he vows quietly, his voice hard with the promise. “For every drop of blood, for every tear, I will see them suffer.”

He can feel the weight of your gaze on him, the fire of your own resolve rekindling in the depths of your eyes. “We’ll make them pay,” you agree, your voice firmer now, a steel edge beneath the sorrow.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin as if he can somehow shield you from all the hurt and loss that has been inflicted upon you. “Rest now, Y/N. I’ll take care of everything.”

But even as he says the words, he knows there will be no rest for either of you, not truly. Not until the debt has been paid in blood and fire.

Later, when you’ve finally fallen into a fitful sleep, he steps outside, his breath fogging in the frigid air. The courtyard is almost deserted, the few men left tending to the grim task of clearing the bodies, the fallen. And there, on the far side, lies the massive, still form of Grey Ghost, his once-silver scales now dull and bloodstained.

Cregan approaches slowly, his heart heavy as he takes in the sight of your dragon, his body broken and scarred from the fight that cost him his life. He reaches out, his hand resting against the cooling scales, and he bows his head, grief and rage roiling within him.

“I swear,” he murmurs, his voice a low, fierce vow, “I will see justice for you, for my family. The Greens will pay for this treachery.”

The wind howls through the empty yard, the promise of vengeance carried on its bitter, biting breath.

[scarletwinterxx]

thank your stars all you want but I'll always be the lucky one - choi seungcheol scenario

hellooo~ i am soooo not done with the proposal scenarios😅 this one is a request, hope i did it justice. and yes I did cry again while writing this. Happy new year!🤍

you can listen to your universe by rico blanco for maximum feels. this was insipired by this song🥺

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The soft glow of morning sunlight streams through the windows of Seungcheol’s apartment, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You stretch lazily in bed, savoring the warmth of the cozy blankets and the faint murmur of the city outside.

It’s a routine you’ve grown used to after nearly seven years together—his home has become yours in every way except officially.

Seungcheol had left early for the gym, promising to grab your favorite smoothies on his way back. The two of you had settled into this comfortable rhythm, a dance of affection and understanding that made your friends tease you mercilessly. “You’re practically married already,” they’d say, rolling their eyes at how well you two knew each other’s quirks.

Still, in the quiet corners of your heart, you sometimes wondered why he hadn’t taken the next step. Not that you were in a rush—you loved him, and you knew he loved you. But the idea lingered, like a melody waiting to be completed.

Mid-morning, a knock at the door pulls you from your musings. You pad to the door, opening it to find a delivery man holding a small, nondescript package.

“For Choi Seungcheol?” he asks.

“That’s him,” you reply, signing for the box. It’s light, plain, and gives no indication of what’s inside. You place it on the kitchen counter and send Seungcheol a quick text: A package came for you. Should I open it?

His response is almost immediate. Don’t open it! I’ll deal with it when I’m back. Thanks, babe.

His urgency makes you chuckle. It’s rare for him to be this insistent. Shrugging, you leave the package untouched and go about your day, but curiosity itches at the back of your mind.

When Seungcheol returns, he’s casual—too casual, you think. His eyes dart to the counter where the package rests, and he quickly sweeps it up. “Thanks for letting me know,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Sure,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s in it?”

“Just some gym stuff,” he lies, his tone a little too breezy. You know him well enough to catch the slight shift in his demeanor.

Over the next few days, you notice odd behavior. Seungcheol becomes extra cautious, sometimes darting out of the room with his phone or quickly closing drawers when you walk in.

It’s adorable but also maddening. You’re good at sniffing out surprises, and whatever he’s hiding, it’s big.

The breaking point comes during dinner one night. The two of you are seated across from each other, candles flickering between you. He’s unusually fidgety, his fork clinking against the plate as he tries—and fails—to make eye contact.

“Seungcheol,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as he pokes at his steak. His fidgeting is driving you insane. “Spit it out.”

“What?” he replies, looking up with wide, innocent eyes that you know all too well aren’t innocent at all.

“You’re acting weird.” You lean forward, pointing your fork at him. “I can tell you’re hiding something. Just say it.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” he insists, but his voice cracks slightly. “Can’t a guy just enjoy dinner with his girlfriend without being interrogated?”

“Not when he’s sweating bullets,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.

He laughs nervously and takes a big gulp of water. “It’s just… I’m thinking about work stuff.”

“Liar,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe it’s gym stuff,” he says, grinning in that way he does when he’s trying to distract you. “I’m planning a new workout routine.”

“Seungcheol, I know every workout routine you’ve ever done. Don’t test me.”

He groans, dropping his fork onto his plate and dramatically rubbing his face. “Can you trust me on this one? I promise you'll love it and will hate me if I tell you right now. I’ve been working very hard on, can you be kind enough to spare me for now. I pinky promise you'll know soon enough"

You blink at him, stunned by his sudden honesty.

Then, a small smile creeps onto your lips. “Fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “But I’m only letting this go because you look like you might combust if I keep pushing.”

He lets out a loud sigh of relief, muttering a quiet, “Thank you.” standing up from his seat to go to you, giving your head a kiss.

The rest of the evening is pleasant, even though you can’t help but notice how Seungcheol keeps stealing glances at you, a secretive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It’s enough to make your curiosity burn, but you keep your promise and drop the subject—for now.

A week later, the snow falling heavy covering the streets with sheets of white. You love the snow, you've always love cold weathers more even though your body doesn't. Anything below 80° makes you shiver.

Your boyfriend knows this, he learned early on your relationship that you get cold easily so he always brings a jacket for you. Now you own his hoodies, a shared asset.

The air outside is crisp as Seungcheol insists on taking you on an evening walk through a quiet park. It's all covered in snow making the whole scene look magical.

Winter lights hang from the trees, casting a warm glow over the snow-dusted path. He holds your gloved hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he leads you to a secluded gazebo overlooking a frozen lake.

“Why here?” you ask, smiling at his excited energy. “It’s freezing.”

“It’s romantic,” he replies, winking. “Just trust me.”

You shake your head, amused. “I’m starting to think you’re up to something.”

“Me? Up to something?” He grins mischievously

You look up at the sky, it's dark enough to see the stars. Living in the city, it's a rare sight so you close your eyes and send a quick wish to the heavens like you always do when you see a star. Meanwhile Seungcheol watches you, a smile forming on his lips and his heart thumping hard in his chest

With your eyes still closed, you feel Seungcheol lean closer to you. He kisses your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you

“You’re being extra sweet tonight, did you do something?” you tease

“I’m always sweet,” he counters, feigning offense.

He seems restless, though, his leg bouncing slightly.

“Are you cold?” you ask, concerned.

“No, no. Just... thinking.”

You narrow your eyes. “About what?”

He looks at you, his gaze so intense it makes your heart skip. “About how lucky I am to have you.”

You roll your eyes with a laugh, nudging him playfully. “What’s with the cheesy lines tonight?”

He chuckles but doesn’t answer, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple instead. Then another on your cheek. And one on your lips. His kisses grow deeper, hotter, until the cold around you feels irrelevant.

“Cheol,” you murmur against his lips, half-laughing, half-serious, “what are you doing?”

“Loving you,” he whispers, his voice low and warm.

Despite his sweetness, you’re still clueless about his plan.

When he finally pulls back, he takes both your hands, holding them tightly. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

You tilt your head, your curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

He drops to one knee in front of you, and your heart stutters. “You don't know how hard it was to keep this from you, every time you ask I almost wanted to tell you but I wanted everything to be perfect” He pulls a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a glittering diamond ring.

Your mouth falls open, your breath caught in your chest.

“You are my everything,” he says, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “The one who makes my world brighter, warmer, better. Whenever I think about the future, I can only see us. You. Stealing all of my hoodies, cooking breakfast for us, me bringing home your favorite smoothie on the weekend. To be honest, I don't really need any wishes because I'm already the lucky one. But will you make me the luckiest man and let me be your husband?”

Your lips jut out, quivering as tears fall down your cheeks. You can't even form words right now so you just nod frantically, unable to speak. He slips the ring onto your finger, and you throw yourself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you whisper as he kisses you again, deeper this time, stealing the breath from your lungs.

He smiles against your lips. “I take it that’s a yes?”

“Of course, it’s a yes,” you reply, pulling him closer. “You big, cheesy romantic.”

He laughs, his forehead resting against yours. “Told you, you'll love my suprise”

And you do. With the stars above, the quiet of the snowy park, and the warmth of his love, you know you’ve found your universe in him.

[starillusion13]

Hi! can I request an ateez 9th member poly au but the scenario is they make her feel left out, being mean and entertains another girl from another grp and she was painted as the villain by that girl! so they gang up on her, she suddenly left the group and now they’re chasing her back!!

Missing Piece

Pairing: Ateez!ot8 x f!reader

Genre: Idol au, Angst, Mature

Warnings: ignorance, tired, mention of drugs( just a rumor), leaving the group, feeling left out, light arguments, anxiety, evil intentions(a pick me not y/n), a mess of emotions nothing more.

W.C: 6.9k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. After writing this fic, I realized that I don't know how to write 9th member fics😔. I hope this what you wanted anon<3.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Now let’s take a moment to appreciate my dear friend @dreamsoffanfics Thanks for helping me out and being my proofreader. A dear friend indeed <3.

"Congratulations Ateez!"

Whenever this phrase echoed, you always felt proud and satisfied with yourself for coming a long way. It's obvious that your hard work and determination made it possible for you to stand strong and shine on this ground.

But, a wave of emotions was running inside you today because of the feelings that are itching your mind.

The scandals you are in lately.

The staff and other idols who are passing by while making your way towards the private room are constantly congratulating you and the members of your group. They all are having a wide smile across their faces but you just hesitantly smiled towards others. You know very well that everyone is aware of the scandal you are currently dealing with.

You excuse yourself from the washroom and Hongjoong notices you stepping away in another direction. He called out your name and asked where you were off to but you didn't reply or turned back.

All the members were gathered in front of their room to enter but when they saw their leader---the captain was standing in front of the door and looking in a particular direction. They all looked towards your fading figure into the hallway.

"Where is she going now?" San asked the captain but quickly noticed the anger on his face.

Hongjoong slammed open the door and others followed him inside the room, "I don't know. She didn't reply to me when I asked her. She is really becoming stubborn."

"What's her problem? Isn't she acting so childish all the time?" Mingi slumped down on a cushioned chair and closed his eyes when placing himself comfortably.

Jongho shook his head while removing the mic and earpiece from around his neck and placing it on the wide desk in front of the mirror. "What about the updates on her scandal? The way she is sneaking around here and there, I feel like believing those are not just scandals."

"No. I don't think that's possible. I don't see a sign from her taking any drugs." Seonghwa stated and looked at the leader who was leaning against the wall after removing all the unnecessary items from him. When he caught his eyes, the one standing sighed.

"But she didn't even deny it." Hongjoong said and raised a brow.

Yeosang nodded and spoke up, earning others attention to his words,"When the manager asked her to explain the matter she remained silent and was staring down as if she was high on drugs. Even when the company tried to answer the question about her on the internet, she refused to make a statement."

Some of them nodded and others had confusion visible on their faces.

Wooyoung pointed at your bag beside his and asked, "why did she bring this bag again?" He lifted the bag and found it to be the same bag which you're carrying everywhere, "it seems like she has a lot of stuff inside it."

"Open it." Hongjoong orders the younger one but he hesitated to the command. "I said open it. I am asking you for it and she has no say in this."

"But it's a girl's bag."

"Don't act like we don't stay together. Even if I ask her about bringing this bag, she won't reply. And if something inappropriate is there then we would apologize to her later."

The younger nodded but before he could open the bag. The manager entered. Hongjoong signaled to put the bag down.

It was always a bit challenging for you to be in a group where you are the only female member. All the fans accepted you very willingly and gave you lots of love on the day when it was announced you would be the last member of the debut line. Yeah, the competition had always included the five girls with the boys but you didn't expect back then to be in the lineup of the final showdown. As you were very sure of Minnie to be debuting with them. Her talents and looks are always remarkable and you admired her dance moves and vocals so much. And, you're sure others loved her more than you. They have a strong friendship with her even after her debuting in a different group 'Stray Kids'.

But your members never made you feel left out or different for being a girl. At first they were a bit hesitant to have you as the member but gradually you all became close and had so much fun together during the first MV shooting. Your debut was memorable with you all traveling to a different country and experiencing several new things.

Moreover, your members treated you like the baby of the group. They pampered you so much and of course, they won't leave a chance to annoy the shit out of you. You felt closer with Jongho because he was around your age so you were always paired up with him. And that's how the deep friendship started between you both.

Ateez are very close with Stray Kids and for that you all often meet them to dine out and hang out on off schedule days and after encore and promotion stages. You loved Minho's company a lot because you both clicked together perfectly. But there was something you noticed: San doesn't like you spending time with Stray Kids and sometimes, he and the others often drag you away with your members telling them that they need to hurry back to the dorm because something urgent came up. Only for you to get scolded later by Hongjoong that being so friendly with others would lead you to get into a lot of scandals.

What about them?

They often can be seen talking with Minnie after the performances or concerts and even two or three of them hanging out with her. Did you ever say anything? No. Then how come the dating rules only apply to you? You had enough one day and screamed at her and them, telling them that because of her Ateez would soon be under controversy but she quickly apologized to you and cried to them.

That was not the end. Because of her Hongjoong treated you really badly. He and other members used harsh words on you and others supported him on the fact that you had overreacted for no reason. They really started to go out alone without you - you were already used to it. But after the incident, they purposely made you feel left out. That didn't even stop them being friendly with her. They even did the new dance challenge with her and the way she was leaning on Seonghwa's arm made you glare at the video longer until the manager announced the practice time.

All these struggles really made you exhausted day by day and it's even showing in your performances and interaction with others. One afternoon, you were in the middle of the preparation for the comeback when you suddenly got to know about something trending under your name on all social media platforms.

'Is y/n really taking drugs?'

And the comments under the post - some supporting your side saying it's fake but you were shocked to see the amount of people believing the post and making strong comments that your recent appearances do look like you are under its effects. You ignored the news, you ignored everyone. You thought about the trainee days and then after debuting. You had lots of fun with Ateez. There are a lot of good memories and there are a lot more than just memories which couldn't be revealed everywhere. You tried to talk with others but never had the courage so you kept everything to yourself. Whenever you were asked to clarify on this matter, you remained silent.

One day, finally you had a talk session with your manager to discuss the ongoing situation. Many of your fans went against you and you accepted their opinions because you didn't make any strong denial statement on it so it's obvious for people to suspect you. You are being a bad influence on the industry.

"Are you sure about this?" the manager had concern and worry etched across her face but you just nodded and sighed when she kept staring at you.

"I don't want to change my mind. I have come up with this decision after thinking a lot."

She opened a file on her tablet before passing it to you to read, "read this. And, what about them? This is a big decision so please think carefully."

"I know."

"Will you be fine after this? People might blame you more."

"I don't have any other option. Even if I have, this is the only thing that seems right to me right now."

She just nodded in acceptance.

.

.

.

As the manager entered the room, she noticed Wooyoung placing your bag down to the side of the chair. Hongjoong stepped forward to greet her and she sent a quick smile to everyone present in the room, also noticing your absence there.

"You all don't have any more upcoming schedules this week so hurry up, we have to leave for the dorm. You guys look so tired. You all didn't got enough rest the last few days." She announced and stared at Hongjoong who seemed to want to ask her something.

"Do you want to say something?"

He nodded, "Y/n is not here since we came back from the stage. She went towards the stairs and I asked her but she seemed a bit lost. Where is she? Do you know about it?"

She sighed, "she is probably in the restroom, don't worry."

"Before the day of the comeback, she had a talk with you. What did she tell?" Seonghwa asked, who was now wearing a black t-shirt with just a washed face. He wasn't wearing his stage outfit anymore.

"You all will get to know about it tomorrow morning."

"What is it that you can't tell us now?" San asked her curiously.

She shook her head, "it's not like that. I can tell you but she doesn't want me to tell you. Don't get your hopes up. Just know it's nothing good." She handed over the food bag to them so that they could feed themselves inside the van while going back home. She asked the last two members to quickly change into a comfortable outfit and took your outfit to the restroom.

.

.

As soon as she handed you the outfit, you thanked her and asked her to wait outside. Changing into the comfortable soft fabrics made you sigh in relief. But you felt tears welling up in your eyes while staring down at the mic, earpiece and the stage outfit in your hand. A lot of emotions coursing through you but your mind was only focusing on the fact - this was your last stage performance.

You wiped your tears and put on a fake smile before exiting the door. the manager took the things from your hands but before you could step forward, she grabbed your wrist and looked at your face, scanning the smudged eyeshadow and liner. You were crying and she caressed your hand.

"Y/n, you are not okay with this. Please, I would suggest that you change your mind."

You shook your head before removing her hand. "Trust me. I will be okay without all of these problems." She watched your retreating figure until you took a sharp turn.

When you reached the door of the private room, it was expected to hear their loud laugh or them having weird singing competitions that could be heard from outside. But now, it's so quiet. Are they that tired? Or did they already leave for the dorm without you? That's not possible, the car was for you nine so it won't leave until nine of you have entered it.

You tightly held the handle before pushing the door open only to find them gathered around the couch but staring at you. You noticed Wooyoung holding a bag at the end of the couch.

A bag, wait, your bag. No!

You hurriedly went over to the couch to find it was your bag and the things were already scattered on it. You tried to pull the bag from his hold until Yeosang grabbed your wrist and turned you around.

"What is this?" he asked you in a demanding tone.

You licked your lips before prying his hand off from your wrist, "nothing. you don't have to know." You snatched the bag, "and why did you even touch my bag without my permission?"

"Since when are we asking each other to touch our things?" Yunho asked and got up from the chair to make his way towards you. You tried to pick up the things and place them inside the bag but Hongjoong blocked your hand and signaled Mingi to take the things away from you. The tall man finally stood in front of you, "and you better explain what all these boxes are for?"

"Nothing..."

Yunho exhaled sharply and grabbed your biceps tightly, "Y/n, what are you hiding from us? what is it that you can't tell us?"

Mingi was glancing between you and the things which he was putting inside the bag. Seonghwa stood beside the man holding you and stared at you sharply, "are these the drugs?"

"Please just shut up!" you screamed at them.

They slightly flinched at your sudden outburst but it was not noticeable by you as your teary eyes blurred your view. You put your palm over your ears and closed your eyes tightly.

"Please shut up. I can't hear any more of this. I know you don't trust me like before but please don't blame me every time. Because of me, this group is already under so much controversy and I'm really sorry for that."

You were going through a lot and having them all cornering you in the room, confined to a little space was too much.

San pushed Yunho so that he could hug your crying form, "It's okay, y/n. No one is blaming you. But why are there so many boxes containing various pills in your bag? You can tell me if those are distractions." he continuously rubbed your back.

You were crying in his hold, clutching his white t-shirt tightly. He didn't care that his fresh t-shirt was getting wet because of your tears when you were crying helplessly. It was breaking their heart to see you like this but what could they do. If you are doing something wrong then they must solve it and for that they need to talk to you but here you are not telling anything and always ignoring them since the incident happened between you and Minnie.

Realizing you were holding San tightly, you quickly removed his arms from around you and glared at him. Everyone observed your sudden change in mood and Hongjoong held your biceps to turn you towards him. At the tight hold you said harshly "let go of me."

"Y/n, enough. What's wrong with you suddenly?" His demanding tone was obvious and your glaring eyes didn't faze his expression. "Don't show me that look."

"Then leave me."

"Joong, leave her hand. We are all tired and we need to go to the dorm. We can ask her about this there." Seonghwa said calmly and placed his palm on the younger's shoulder. the latter sighed and you snatched your hand from him.

Everyone's eyes followed how disheveled you were looking while picking up your things and no one tried to stop you as you were all going to the same place after all. When you pulled the zip of your bag, Wooyoung stepped forward to offer you the food but you rejected it and went outside the room, slamming the door. They flinched at the loud noise but no one noticed your tears and emotions while exiting the private room backstage for the last time.

"I will be good without all of them." You have repeated this line to yourself a lot of times but still you felt the emotions to return back all over again.

Wiping your eyes, you raised your head only to find Minnie standing in front of you with folded hands and innocent eyes, the way she always looks at others. She was still wearing a faerie stage outfit and smiling at you. Ignoring her presence, you tried to turn around but her voice made you halt.

"Are you carrying those drugs in the bag again? So should I post it clearly that you are being spotted taking drugs?" she was smirking when you turned around.

"What are you saying?" You gripped the bag tightly when she glanced at it and chuckled. Stepping forward to you, her smirk grew wider, "it was me who posted that about you. and even if you say this to anyone, no one is going to believe you."

"It was...you." you watched her in disbelief when she lightly laughed and twirled a strand of hair between her delicate thin fingers. She pouted and blinked at you, "you shouted at me in front of them so I had to take my revenge."

"And it's just-"

"It hurts my pride." She made a disgusted face at you and bumped against your shoulder, "well, thank me for not doing something else but....I just ruined your career. Goodbye!"

You saw her walking like on a cat walk towards the corridor and smiling innocently to everyone in her way. She turned a little and smirked at you before taking a turn leaving you there in shock.

"Y/n...you're still here." You heard Jongho's voice and then saw others exiting the room but before they could ask you something, you ran towards the elevator and fortunately it just opened for the staff members queuing in front of it and you got inside with them. They were all glancing at you because of your weird behavior and you being alone with a sad look.

As soon as the ding sound indicated the arrival to the ground floor, you wasted no time and speedily walked towards the car. You got inside and sat in the far back, waiting for others to come.

.

.

After they got into the car, they found you sleeping peacefully at the back. "She is sleeping." Yunho told others and placed your head on his shoulder while adjusting in the seat beside you.

"Let her sleep. She is extremely tired." Hongjoong said and scolded Wooyoung who was about to say something loudly.

Seonghwa shook his head, "but she has to eat."

"I will feed her after we reach home. Leave her for a while. Let's not ask her anything more today." Yeosang started and closed his eyes while leaning back.

Yunho kept stroking your head so that you don't wake up and he felt you nuzzling into him and he smiled while looking down at you.

>>>><<<<

You stretched your arms, you heard their voices coming from a distance. You groaned and rubbed your eyes. Your body was aching so bad that you felt like going back to sleep again. But then you remembered your plans for this night.

You got up and stepped outside the room, their voices were coming from the living room and when some of them caught your sleepy figure entering the room they sent a smile towards you.

"Y/n come eat with me. Others have already had their dinner and I will accompany you while the rest keep doing whatever they do at the moment." Yeosang called you from the table and patted the chair beside him. You were hungry but you didn't feel like eating anything because of all the emotions you had inside.

Is my decision okay?

You shook off the feeling and walked towards the table. Some returned back to discuss the topic they were busy with and the youngest of the two joined you both at the table.

"So, as we don't have a schedule this week. How about we go on a trip somewhere?" Wooyoung suggested and Yeosang nodded before urging to start eating.

Your heart ached when you heard the joy in his voice and how they were planning for the week.

"But can we not spend time inside the dorm? I don't feel like going out." Jongho whined.

"What do you say, y/n?" Yeosang asked and you glanced at him to your side but remained silent.

He shared a glance with Wooyoung before the younger one spoke up: "Hey! Do you want to stay inside or go out? We will decide after what you say."

"I......whatever you all will agree on." You mumbled softly.

"But-"

"I said whatever you guys will agree on! It doesn't matter what I say. You all will be off on your own." You stood up from the table and took deep breaths, "have fun without me. Whatever you guys do, enjoy yourself and live a happy life."

"Y/n...if-"

"Yeo I don't want to hear anything. I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."

The moment you had to pass the couch where others were sitting but their attention was on you after you shouted at the table, Mingi grabbed your hand, "Are you okay?"

You glanced at the grip and to the others.

"You all are always meant for each other. The eight of you are soulmates and I'm just an extra character who acted as a villain in the group and destroyed your success with my scandal."

Hongjoong stood up, "Don't think like that. We can sort this out together."

"No. People already hate me for this and even if I try to claim myself innocent then all the fame I have already lost is never coming back. I'll still receive more hate. It wouldn't have happened if you guys really cared for me." You whispered the last line.

San scratched his neck and spoke up, "But you have us. Even if they hate you, we will show them that you are the best."

"But you don't have me. I can't do anything in return so it's better for me to move away from the scene so that you don't have a problem on your way to success. There's still a long way to go and I can't stop you all from that."

Seonghwa shook his head, "You are not stopping us. You keep us motivated, Y/n. You'll always be with us like the final missing piece of the puzzle."

"Sometimes there's an extra piece to distract you and confuse you and I'm that extra piece. You are already complete without me."

"Why are you thinking like this?" Mingi asked you softly.

"Because you all made me feel like this." You sighed and turned back but before stepping forward, you said loudly, "Just remember that even if I'm not with you all in this journey you all will move forward and achieve everything. You deserve a lot and on top of that, be happy. Don't let yourself fall apart because of a missing piece."

Your quick steps led you to your room and you fell on your bed. Cries getting muffled by the sheet and you pushed your face into it more. When you were saying those words earlier, you stood strong but deep down, your heart was heavy.

Time passed and you didn't realize when you fell asleep. A figure stepped inside your room, he smiled at your sleeping figure, his dimples peeking out even in the dark and his sharp eyes staring at you softly. He adjusted your body to a comfortable position and pulled you closer to him, lulling you to sleep. You mumbled something in your sleep and he smiled and patted your head. Soon, he fell asleep with you in his arms.

Now, this is the secret that nobody knows yet. You're dating all of them. Since the day of the debut you all found comfort in each other's arms. This can't be mentioned in the public media and nothing can be obvious if you are really dating one of them - let alone all of them. They're always so protective and showered you with love, making your heart warm and a wide smile visible on your face.

In many shows and interviews, you've referred to them as your strongest pillars of life and that you would be always thankful to them for being with you.

But lately it turned into a disaster after you all met her again after a year at the show when Minnie introduced herself to them and they became friends quickly. You didn't mind the friendship at first but when they started to blame you on whatever she tells them, they started pointing out her right proving you wrong in every aspect.

She really had to destroy your career---even your relationship with them.

<<<<<<>>>>>>

"You are here?" Yunho yawned while nodding his head and rubbed his eyes while making his way towards the table after greeting the leader. "I thought you're the one sleeping with her."

Yunho shook his head before gulping down the water, "No. San told me that he wanted to sleep with her." Hongjoong nodded and turned his attention back to the food on the table.

The rest of them soon started to gather around in the living room. Wooyoung saw San coming last into the wide space but all alone. He creased his brows and asked him, "Isn't she coming for breakfast?" He put down the plate on the table.

"It'll soon be lunch time." Jongho said and laughed. Yeah, it's true that they woke up so late that they have passed the morning and it's already noon but they're still preparing breakfast.

San, who was still rubbing his eyes, looked at him and then around the room, "She isn't here?"

"No..."

"When I woke up, she was not in the bed."

Hongjoong stood up and took the phone in his hand before watching everyone in confusion,

"Did she tell any of you where she is going today? Does she have something to do?"

He dialed your number but the line was dead.

Mingi skipped to your room to see if you had left any sticky note but nothing was there. Wait. Not even your things were there. Only a few items were there but the photo frames with a few boxes were missing too. He went back into the living room to inform the others about it. They were so lost and confused about the situation when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Jongho quickly opened it to be greeted by their manager whose appearance was more serious than usual. She walked inside and looked at everyone before sighing and sitting on the chair near her, "Have you checked your phones?"

When they shook their heads and told her that they had just woken up. She turned her phone screen around to take a look at it.

'Y/n, the member of Ateez is leaving the group...'

San snatched the phone from her hand and scrolled down the whole post only to find out the news was announced by their own company and there was also an apology letter from your side posted. So many things happened just in the morning.

"What is this? Where is she?" Hongjoong demanded a clarification of this situation from her but she only shook her head before brushing some strands of hair back.

"She has already left the place. These past few days, you were busy and didn't notice her preparing for this day so I was there to help her collect everything. I tried to change her decision, make her understand but she had already lost hope in this. She was so disturbed with the whole scandal and all."

"Can't we contact her?" Wooyoung asked her while tears were threatening to fall from his eyes.

"No. Your company has banned you from having any contact with a former member. I don't think it's good for your image."

"I don't care about my image. I want her back. How can she leave the group? And she didn't tell us anything about this the whole time..."

Seonghwa looked at the leader and sighed, "That's why she was saying things like that last night."

And now, they realized how they have ignored you all these past months just to believe that girl whom they had befriended and trusted so much that they doubted you on taking drugs and being jealous of others too much.

But their career can't be stopped here. They need to move forward on this journey - even if that means with a missing piece in their group.

>>>><<<<

[2 years later]

"8 makes 1 team...Hello we are Ateez."

The whole audience in the arena cheered. Ateez with wide smiles and sparkling eyes were watching their fans from overseas greeting them by shouting out their names. They felt so loved at that moment that they forgot the pain inside their heart, not getting to be loved by you anymore.

They love their fans a lot but your love was the precious one and when Yeosang realized that you were not there beside him in the choreography, tears fell from his eyes. It's already been 2 years but still everytime he cries during this step where you are no longer smiling while spinning with him in the center.

The concert went for two hours and they quickly changed into some casual wear afterwards and decided on takeout for the day.

The next day, at night they planned to stroll around the city and take in the view of the new place overseas and enjoy the place. They were not given any schedules for the vlog so they were free to roam around.

"I have seen this place just across the street that has a good variety of foods. Let's try it out." Yunho stated his search for this place and others agreed quickly.

All of them entered the big glass door of the restaurant and eyes roaming around in appreciation of the new place. The things decorating the tables, shelves and each corner with the soft melody of the overflowing music with the right amount of warmth and light were a perfect setting. Many customers turned towards them, a table with four girls recognized them but the rest just watched them curiously as they were standing awkwardly until a waiter offered them a helping hand.

They opted for a table at the very end as it was a bit away from the other tables and a bit hidden by a wooden rack.

They all settled down and the waiter waited for them to order. After a lot of complaints, whines, bickers and scolding, they had decided on the menu to be ordered finally.

For the time being, they were waiting for the food to arrive. They gossiped on a lot of stuff, few scrolling through Instagram and taking aesthetic pictures of the place but they don't forget to see any update from your private account. nothing. Jongho sighed and switched off his phone.

"Here is the food!" A cheerful voice made them look up at the person with two others trailing behind her. The girl didn't look at their faces but the eight boys from around the table were staring at her. she was joking with the girl beside her while placing all the bowls down the table. the other two left her when she turned around, "is there some-"

her voice got lost in her throat when she finally locked eyes with the ones watching her intently.

"y/n. you are here."

oh. they're having tours in this country. you're so busy these past few days that you didn't notice that they have announced the tour dates. yeah, even if you have left the group and moved away to a different country, you keep yourself updated with them.

you just can't get over them and this kills you inside.

"uh...um...congratulations on the comeback."

"Why did you leave the group? You don't even contact any of us." Hongjoong asked you from just the opposite direction from where you were standing.

"Isn't it obvious that I left the group not to keep in touch with you all?"

"But why?"

"Now your group is free from scandals and under no controversy. You all are having comebacks and your fans even forgot about me and giving you all the love you guys deserve. So what's the point of me being there." You chuckled in an unamused way.

Wooyoung stood up and suddenly hugged you catching you off guard, "you don't know how much we missed you. Everyday we thought that you'll call one of us or will show up to the front door. But you totally disappeared."

"It hurt us, baby. It hurts to not wake up to your side. It hurts not to see your smiling face and you walking around the dorm. Heck! I watched all the videos of you to hear your voice." San bit his lip to prevent himself from crying.

It hurts me too...

You just curled your fingers, wanting them to stop or you might break down in front of them. You thought after joining at your friend's restaurant that you won't ever come across your past life but who knew after two years here, you would be facing them again.

Licking your lips, you pushed Wooyoung off from you and eyed him before turning to them, "but you all became used to ignoring me then why suddenly you all are acting like this."

"No it's not like that."

"Really Mingi? Are you sure you're not the person who blamed me that for me all your hard work will be gone."

The chatters around the place increased with the entry of some more customers. Little did you know, your friend noticed the current situation you were in and she told other workers to take your place and not mind anything at the end table.

Jongho glared at Mingi but still he also knew that the news got them all shattered because it was their first accusation after the debut and they knew very well the cause of any controversy regarding a group. They all feared for their dreams to be crashing down.

But they were also worried for you. They all asked you about it but you're not the outspoken type and you remained silent and refused to talk to anyone. You distanced yourself from them when they hinted their anger towards you and it really scared you.

and that girl Minnie really played her wicked games with them at their weakest moment. "I'm sorry. Please forgive us for not being there for you. We-"

"Jongho, there's nothing to forgive or forget. I had some great memories with you all and I loved every moment but for me I don't want someone's dreams to end."

You weakly smiled at them.

"But what about you? How are you?" Seonghwa asked you while he approached you and held your hands in his, he caressed the soft skin and stared down.

"Honestly, I don't even know about myself. I'm totally living a different life. People don't recognize me after dying my hair and not wearing makeup and I don't come out often to serve the customers but unfortunately today I did and...."

"And what about the......drugs?"

"Joong-"

"It's okay Hwa. He is just obeying his rules being a leader." You bit your lip when retreating the hand from the hold, "those boxes in my bag were not drugs. Those were my anxiety pills. I used label-less boxes so that people won't know about my problems but that only led to some bigger problems."

Yunho stepped forward, "you had anxiety?" You nodded.

"What caused you this? I swear y/n tell me what happened to have this happen?" He was furious and you watched his impatient hand brushed his hair back.

"Yunho.....it's you guys. You all did this to me." After voicing out the words, you stared at them blankly.

"Us?" Yeosang asked you but also to himself.

"The ignorance. The blames and accusations adding up to the online comments on my posts were stressing me out and I had a consultation with my family psychiatrist." You sighed at the end of the sentence.

San suddenly asked you, "what about your dreams, y/n? You shared so many things with me with us. You planned a whole future with us. What about that?"

"I really wanted to spend my whole life with you all. To create so many memories together but I think those will just remain as dreams because of the rumors. Even if I want to get back. I won't because it would hamper your future and dream."

"But who spread the rumors on drugs?" Hongjoong sat down and held his head.

"It's-... it's..." you bit your lips and proceeded, "it's nothing. You don't have to worry about it now. I'm out of this whole thing and you are all free from all controversial posts."

You tried to smile but the tears falling from your eyes betrayed you.

"You are not coming back to us?" Yunho held your hand, he held it so dearly as if you were a delicate person. He didn't want to let it go but still somewhere in your eyes he saw the distance between you both.

There was no sign of love from you.

"No."

Jongho came in front of your view, "but please we need you. It's no more the same feelings without you. There's really a missing piece in our life." He gulped the lump of sadness and continued, "and, It's you, y/n."

"No you are a perfect team even without me. Eight makes a perfect team like you." You looked over all of them.

"And nine makes the perfect family." Seonghwa said in a hushed voice.

You shook your head, "then work on your teamwork and make it a family. I hope you will find a better girl for yourselves."

Wooyoung pushed aside Seonghwa and cupped your cheek and Hongjoong just stood behind him, watching you keenly.

"Please, y/n don't do this to me. I got to see you after two years and...and just for you to say leave me again?"

"Woo, people might be watching."

"I don't care."

"But I care. I have to work unlike you who will go back to your country after the tour ends. I have to stay back here and face these customers again and if somehow this scene got to the media then it'll be a new situation to handle. Please, I beg you. I don't want to be in a similar situation again."

You inhaled and continued, "and this time it won't be because of me but because of you. So stop before anything happens again."

" but you can stay with us. We can move out from the dorm and stay somewhere else. Also, you don't have to be with us for the sake of being a group member but as our girlfriend." Hongjoong said the words very precisely but you just laughed at him.

"You have lost the right to call me that way before. Don't say that word again. I hate it. I don't want to stay with any of you."

"But-"

"The food is getting cold. They worked hard in preparing this."

San held your hand when you stepped back, "At Least eat with us. Last time, you didn't even eat properly with us."

"Y/n, I miss you a lot." Yeosang looked at you with a longing feeling but you just ignored it.

I miss you all too...

And I know I shouldn't...

You took deep breaths, "I'm telling this to all of you. And it's my final wish to you so please kindly keep it. Just forget about me. You all have a long way to go to achieve success. Don't get stuck in the past. Pretend I never met you all. I was never a part of your life."

San gripped your wrist tighter.

Hongjoong said in a low voice, "this is impossible for us to do. How can we forget you? How can we forget all the memories of us?"

You stared at the grip and glanced at his face. He had changed a lot in these two years and the maturity in his voice and demeanor was visible.

He stared at you helplessly and waited for your response. You removed the grip and turned around.

"Enjoy the meal!"

How can they just eat now? They all have lost their appetite after this and the way you didn't even turn back to them for the last time left them staring at your direction until you disappeared behind the door beside the desk.

You entered the door and tears slid down your cheek and whispered to yourself, "pretend I was just a missing piece of your dream."

[I just realized that I don't know how to write 9th member aus like what did I write here. It could have been better but still I tried so appreciate me🥹]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Suuuuuup, I've been binging on your writing lately and I completely adore it (sometimes I go back through my likes to re read some of your stuff 💖💖)

So I'm dropping a scenario here.

Reader and Jason Todd have been roommates for quite some time (which means this would be a mutual pinning scenario), sometimes reader patches Jason up and orders some takeout for him. Until one night, Jason was too beaten up after a patrol so reader treated his bruises and scratches before helping him ease his back on his bed while reader sat down beside him. Jason begins with his dose of "you shouldn't be doing this" "I'm not a kid" "I can perfectly hand myself" then Jason starts questioning reader why they care so much about him and worry about him.

Until they reach the point where:

Jason: A prick like me? Yeah, sure.

Reader: Even pricks like you need someone who looks after them.

Jason: Careful, I might start thinking you like me or something if you keep saying things like that.

Reader: Maybe I do like you.

Honest Words

Haha, nonnie, do you even need me? You've got a great fic right there. I feel like I never actually write them getting together, so let me try something. ~ 600 words

'Maybe I do like you. Maybe I do like you.' The words play on loop in Jason's head as he stares at them. The silence goes on for too long and he forces himself to choke out a laugh, "You're joking. Not much to like here."

You tilt your head thoughtfully and hum, curious as you finish cleaning up his wounds, "I dunno, Jason, I see plenty to like."

"Like what?" He asks before he can stop himself. He winces a little, less from the stinging of his wounds and more at how interested he sounds in knowing what exactly you like about him.

"Lots of things," You muse, sitting back on the bed, "I like your eyes."

"My eyes?" He prompts, leaning towards you.

You nod, "They're pretty, and clear. Like you want to be seen. I like that you always let me touch your hair," You reach and brush his hair back to prove your point.

He smiles a little, "I don't think that's any reason to, you know," Jason trails off.

"I like that you're good. Even when you think you're not. You try. You try so hard even when the whole world seems like it's against you. You keep trying. You keep helping people."

His breath hitches at the raw honesty in your voice, the determination and truth in your eyes, "You're– you've never been against me."

You nod, and your gaze leaves him as you start to clean up the gauze and bandages from his bed, "and I won't be. Unless you do something crazy."

He laughs, it almost scares him, how easily you've read him. That you made him laugh even when his throat threatens to tighten and his mind threatens to spiral, "Crazier than what I've already done?"

You nod and grin at him, and it sets his world right, "Crazier than that, much crazier, actually."

He grins right back at you, "I'll keep that in mind for the next time I break the law."

You laugh with him and pat his knee, "Get some rest, Jason. You look like you've been through it tonight."

"I thought you liked how I looked?" He drawls, unable to keep from teasing.

"I do," you say happily, voice fond with affection he's not completely sure how to react to. You stand up, "Now, heal up, ok?"

"Wait," he stops you, grabbing your wrist. He doesn't have a plan, doesn't quite know what he's doing, but he wants you to stay.

"Yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

He sucks in a breath and guides you closer, slotting your body between his thighs. He looks up at you, the person who's become irreplaceable in his life. He carefully sets his palms over your hips.

"Jason," You breathe out, "You don't owe me anything."

"I know," he says, voice soft but firm, "I want this."

You cup his face with both hands, thumbs tracing his cheek bones as you study his eyes, picking apart the truth of his words, "Would you want me to kiss you?"

Jason leans into your touch and nods, he's not sure what this means for the future, for either of you, but you're being honest. You like him. And he likes you.

His heart is in his throat when you lean down to kiss him.

His eyes slid shut as you press your lips to his. He tilts his head up. It's sweet, loving, it's so completely you, and he gets lost in the feeling, chasing your mouth when you pull away.

"Okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah," he breathes out, "more than okay."

You smile at him and trace the line of his jaw, "Good, now heal up, Jason."

He smiles back at you, voice light and teasing, "What? Don't wanna kiss me again?"

He smiles even wider when you tell him, on the way out his bedroom door, you can do all that and more once he's better.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Bang!

pairing: virgin!felix x experienced!afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 3.8k

warnings: nipple play, oral (m receiving), fingering, protected sex (a first in my fics haha), second hand embarassment

a/n: inspired by felix banging his head on every table he comes close to😂

idk how many times i will write virgin felix let me live okay (i wrote this on a whim)

~check out: Masterlist

Deep breath in. Long breath out. Deep breath in. Long breath out. Deep breath- oh fuck this.

Felix can't breathe. Not when he's standing in front of your door, ready to knock as his hand pauses mid-air.

How will he look you in the eyes when you appear in front of him? He couldn't even sleep last night.

There was no scenario he didn't run in his head over and over again. Like what if he does something wrong and it turns you off? What if he accidentally hurts you? He would never forgive himself. What if he's not good at all, too awkward and inexperienced for you? What if you don't like his stuff? What if he can't please you at all and you're disappointed and you leave him?

His mind went to some really dark places as he kept overthinking about everything and comparing himself to your exes while he secretly stalked their social media in bed.

Despite feeling discouraged, he manages to finally knock on the door and he stands still, listening to his rapid heartbeat and your footsteps nearing the door.

You're so estatic to see your boyfriend that you yank the door open a little too enthusiastically, making Felix jolt before he chuckles nervously at your smiling face.

"Hey."- your expression softens when you see him looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey. Um, I made these for you."- Felix lifts his hand up, holding a cute bag with little hearts on it and you peer inside, already knowing that in the tuperware lay his famous brownies.

"Aw, Lixie thank you! You're too sweet!"- you chuckle, leaning closer to him to peck his lips.

You notice he's stiff, he must be nervous because of the talk you had last night where he told you he was ready to take the next step in your budding relationship.

You were more than ready to take things to the next physical level, especially since you've had relationships before and even though Felix dated, he said he wanted to wait for the right person.

Him calling you the right person for him and trusting you with something so delicate like his first time, made you love him even more and you felt honored he chose you.

You were determined to make everything as relaxing and pleasurable as it can possibly be, you even made his favorite dinner and picked out a fun movie to relax beforehand.

Felix was relieved to find out you'd eat dinner first because that gave him some time to calm down (freak out even more) and he was trying to hype himself up the whole time as you talked about your day.

The food you cooked for him was delicious but he didn't want to eat too much in case he throws up because his stomach was swirling with butterflies, making him feel nauseous.

You could see that he was still so nervous, his leg was shaking under the table during dinner and he was mostly avoiding to look into your eyes.

He helped you clean up before the two of you moved to the couch to watch the movie.

You sat close to him, wanting to cuddle like you always do when you watch tv together but Felix jumped a little before settling next to you.

"You okay?"- you ask cautiously, your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair and he shivers.

"Fine. Completely fine."- he says but you shake your head and pause the movie.

"Love, we don't have to do it tonight if you're not ready. I don't want you to feel any kind of pressure because I really don't mind waiting."- you tell him truthfully as you gently hold his hand and Felix's eyes fill with love as he looks at you.

"No, I'm ready, I am! I'm just a little nervous."

"That's understandable."- you say before you give him a small smirk, your hand on his cheek.

His eyes flutter as he leans into your touch instantly and stares at you like a lovesick puppy.

"Let me help you relax, hm?"- you whisper as you lean in closer, pressing your lips into his.

Felix kisses back, and the kiss is sweet and gentle, just like him. Your hands hold his precious face as he hesitantly places his on your waist.

You kneel on the couch, hovering over him as he runs his hands gently up and down on your sides. You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip and Felix parts his lips, letting you in.

You play with his tongue, circling around it with yours, licking at his mouth and gently sucking on his tongue. You can tell he's getting worked up as you play with his hair and he squeezes your waist a little, fingertips digging into your back.

You decide to throw your leg over him and sit in his lap, pressing your core against him and Felix jolts, whimpering into your mouth as you stimulate his growing erection.

And here he was, worrying about his thing having performance anxiety. That was one worry he could check off in his head, because there was no way he wouldn't get aroused with you on top of him like that.

You could feel him through layers of clothing, and it made your arousal drip on your panties.

You couldn't wait to see him, touch him, taste him, feel him. You roll your hips experimentally against his, dragging your clothed pussy against him and Felix grunts, his head falling back as his hands grip at your hips.

His eyes are closed, his eyebrows furrowed and his face is flushed. You can tell he's holding back as you slowly grind against him.

"Lix, look at me."- you say, gently touching his cheek and he opens his eyes, embarassment and arousal painted inside them.

"Does it feel good?"- you ask, pressing harder into him and feeling him grow more with your movement.

"S-so good."- he's quiet and stares at your breasts as he answers.

You grab his face to make him look at you and the sweet innocent bambi eyes he gives you make you want to devour him whole.

You lean his head back a little and bring your lips to his hot skin, leaving kisses on the column of his neck.

Felix starts breathing harder as he holds in his moans, afraid that he might let out embarassing sounds. His fingers are digging into your hips and as you bite down on his sensitive skin, he accidentally grinds up into you, bringing more friction to the both of you.

You moan and his cock twitches in his pants at the sound, his eyes falling to your breasts again. You can see he's entranced by them so you decide to indulge his silent wish as you reach down to the hem of your shirt.

His lips part as you pull it over your head, and Felix sees the lacy blue bra you're wearing. It's almost like you have nothing on because he can see your nipples through the lace and his mouth waters at the sight, his cock leaking in his boxers.

"Oh wow."- he says then chuckles.

"You like? I wore it for you."- you say, your hands sliding down to rest on top of his.

"I'm really lucky."- he says, his face completely red as he looks at you sweetly.

"Me too."- you smile as you grip his hands and slide them up to your breasts.

"Can I?"- he licks his lips and you giggle at his sweetness.

"Ofcourse. They're yours."- you say and Felix leaks in his boxers again as he squeezes your breasts gently.

"Mine..."- he says, his face mesmerized as he massages them. You moan, arching into his touch, his hands feel perfect on you like he was made just for you and you were made just for him.

He swipes his thumbs against your nipples and you whimper, making him flick his eyes up at your face. When he sees the look of arousal on your face, he feels a bit more confident as he starts playing with your nipples, lightly pinching them and rolling them between his fingers.

"Ahh, Lixie!"- you whine, your hips moving against him again and he thinks he just might cum in his pants before you even get to take them off and that would be freaking embarassing so he tries to forget about himself and focus on giving you pleasure.

He moves the lace to the side, revealing your nipple before he leans in closer, his hot breath hitting your skin.

"Okay?"- he asks and you nod as he presses his lips on your nipple. His tongue darts out to play with the aroused bud and you whine, your hand gripping at his hair.

Felix's eyes glaze over as he grunts lowly, enveloping his lips around your nipple and gently sucking on it.

Pleasure courses through your body, down to your core that's clenching around nothing, your juices seeping onto your panties.

Felix closes his eyes and sucks harder, you keep gripping and releasing his hair as he moans around you. His hips start grinding up into you as he gives your other nipple the same treatment.

You think he's completely forgotten about what you two planned to do because he keeps sucking on your nipples, entranced with them and you gently caress his back and whisper his name.

He leans back to look at you, and he looks fucked out already.

"I- um, I'm sorry, they're so pretty. I could suck on them forever."- he confesses with a shy smile and you chuckle, grabbing his face.

"You can do that later. Right now, I'd like for us to go to my room and continue there. What do you say?"- you ask and he nods quickly.

"I'd love that."- he says and you giggle, feeling giddy as you stand up and hold his hand, dragging him to your room.

You gently push him to sit on your bed before adjusting your bra.

"I want to show you something first."- you say as you start unbuttoning your pants and Felix gulps.

You slide them down slowly and his mind is dizzy when he sees the matching panties and your cunt wrapped with the lace like a little present just for him.

He groans at the sight, his cock is painfully hard as you make your way to him.

"Take your shirt off, baby."- you say and Felix obliges immediately.

"These too, you don't need them."- you pull at his jeans with a smirk and he swallows as he slowly unbuttons them and slides them down.

Arousal gushes on your panties when you see his hard cock straining in his boxers, a patch of wetness where the head is.

"Lixie."- you bite on your lip, hands on his thighs and he lets you part them as he looks up at you through his long eyelashes.

"Y/n..."- he whimpers quietly as you massage his thighs.

You slide your hand towards his erection, and look at him, seeing panic appear in his eyes.

"Is it okay if I touch you, baby?"- you ask gently, your hand stopping on his inner thigh.

"Yes, yes please."- he says, nodding quickly.

You cup his cock with your hand and Felix moans, leaning into your touch immediately, his legs opening up more.

"Mm..."- he presses his lips together as you start palming him, you pussy throbbing to feel him inside you.

"Relax, baby."- you coo at him, squeezing his cock and caressing his face. "Let me hear your pretty moans, Lixie."

His lips part as he looks at you sweetly, moaning quietly as you work his length.

"Let's get rid of these."- you hook your fingers in his boxers and he nods.

You slowly slide them down, his hard cock slapping against his abs, the tip glistening with pre cum and Felix turns away from you, his eyes squeezed shut.

"So pretty."- you mutter and get down on your knees between his legs, your hand wrapping around him.

Felix looks at you and gasps when he sees your lips close to his tip.

"Y-you don't have to do that."- he says and you bite on your lip.

"I want to Lixie. I wanna make you feel good."- you say.

"B-but I feel good already."- he gulps and you chuckle. He's too sweet that it makes you wanna please him even more.

"I know baby but I can make you feel even better. Do you trust me?"- you ask, slowly jerking his twitching cock.

"Ah- yes, yes I trust you!"- he whimpers, hips lifting up into your hand.

You lean in and lick at the pre cum oozing out of his tip, making Felix shiver. You play with his tip as he observes you with lustful eyes, before you wrap your lips around him, taking him in your mouth. He can't even look at you anymore, thinking that he'll bust as soon as he sees your face and your lips wrapped around his cock so sinfully as you bob your head and take more and more of him in.

You moan around his length, stimulating him as your other hand cups his balls to get his attention, you want him to look at you and Felix jolts, legs shaking a little as he grips the blanket under him and finally looks at you.

"Oh-" -he whimpers, seeing you drooling all over his cock, almost all of it disappearing inside your hot mouth, and when you look up at him with a dark look in your eyes, Felix crosses off you not liking his stuff, because you're obviously enjoying yourself.

"B-baby... I'm gonna cum if you continue."- he whimpers.

You pop off of him and smirk.

"You taste so good, Lixie."- you say as you bite on your lip with a sly smile.

"Oh yeah?"- he asks, his face red.

"Mhm."- you lift up and grab his face, crashing your lips on his and kissing him fervently.

He kisses you back desperately, and you can't wait anymore so you push him down and lean back.

Without words, you unhook your bra and toss it somewhere aside and Felix gulps as he looks at your breasts.

His hands are on your hips as he sits up and hooks his fingers in your panties.

"Let me."- he says and you nod as he slowly slides them off, your slick dripping down your inner thigh and Felix can smell your sweet juice.

He licks his lips, feeling hungry for you even more.

You smirk at his face and manouver over to lay down on the bed as he follows your movements.

"Come get a better look at what belongs to you, Lixie."- you smirk and Felix groans, his cock twitching hard and leaking again as you spread your legs.

Your glistening cunt is on display and he looks mesmerized again as his hand moves on it's own, fingertips on your wet folds.

"You're so wet."- he whispers.

"You did that."- you whisper back.

"I did?"- he asks.

"Yeah, you did baby. It's all for you."- you moan when he experimentally presses his thumb into your clit.

"Here?"- he asks, and you nod, your eyes falling to his cock and you can see that he's so hard, so ready to be inside you.

He circles his thumb on your sensitive nub, picking up on your reactions and making mental notes of what you like the most.

Your cunt keeps gushing with arousal and Felix feels pride swell in his chest as he runs his middle finger on your dripping folds.

"Can I?"- he asks for permission like the sweet boy he is and you nod.

"Please."- you whine and Felix slowly pushes his finger inside your wetness.

"Ah Lixie!"- you moan as he starts slowly pumping his finger, his thumb still on your clit.

"You sure you've never done this?"- you pant as he speeds up a little.

"Yeah."- he chuckles.

"So good! I need more Lixie, please."- you whimper, hips lifting up into him.

"Your wish is my command, baby."- he says, slowly pushing another finger inside you, your cunt stretching around him as you moan his name.

Felix checks off not being able to please you because he's obviously doing something right.

"Lix- Lixie, I need your cock!"- you become desperate and Felix's face flushes with warmness, traveling down his neck, to his heart, then to his navel right to his hard cock.

"O-okay."- he slowly pulls his fingers out and without thinking he wraps his lips around them to taste you.

You moan at the sight and Felix feels a little embarassed but you look so ready for him that he throws the embarassment in the back of his mind.

"There's a condom on the night stand."- you turn your head towards it and he nods grabbing it, before kneeling between your legs and pausing.

"What is it?"- you lean on your elbows as Felix looks unsure again.

"Can you- can you help me put it on?"- he asks timidly and you nod with a reassuring smile.

"Ofcourse, baby."- you say, grabbing the condom from his hands and opening up the wrapper with your teeth.

Felix smiles excitedly and nervously as you smirk up at him, the fact that he'll be inside you in mere seconds making his brain explode.

You slowly roll the condom on and he whimpers, biting on his lip as his eyes flutter shut.

"Come here."- you beckon him, your legs wrapping around his hips, bringing him closer and making his tip rub against your wet pussy.

There's just a moment of silent exchanges of looks full of love before he sinks his cock into your heat, stretching you perfectly, filling you up.

Both of you moan as he slowly opens you up and bottoms out.

"Oh my god. You're so warm and tight."- he whimpers into your ear and you let out a small chuckle, your pussy clenching around him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to say that out loud."- he grunts.

"It's okay Lixie. I wanna hear how good I feel to you."- you run your hands through his hair as he admires you.

He leans in for a kiss, something familiar in this new moment before he slowly starts moving his hips.

Your lover is all around you and inside you and both of you get lost in the moment, moving together into each other's bodies.

Your cunt wraps perfectly around him and you keep getting more wet making him slide more easily inside you, and Felix speeds up as he looks at your face contorted in pleasure, pretty moans spilling out of your lips.

He feels so prideful and happy that he's making you feel so good that more blood rushes to his cock, making him throb inside you.

Your moans get louder and more high pitched, he must be hitting the spot and bringing you to your high.

He gets so excited seeing you like that, that he fucks into you faster making you keen as you dig your nails into his back.

Bang!

Felix hits his head on the godforsaken shelf you installed randomly one day just so you can put some books and trinkets on it. He halts his movements groaning and cursing under his breath, and for good measure a book falls right on his head because of the force of his head colliding with the shelf.

The speed with which he pulls out of you and rolls over to face the wall, grabbing at his head, groaning loudly in pain and embarassment as he pulls his legs up in a fetal position, leave you stunned and you wonder for a moment what just happened.

A laugh bubbles in your throat and you stiffle it, cursing yourself in your head before you cautiously roll over to your side and hover above Felix.

"Lix?"- you say.

"Lix is not here."- his voice is muffled as he buries his face in your blankets.

"Baby. Are you okay?"- you ask, your hand on his head, gently caressing him and he hisses.

"No, not really. That was the most embarassing thing that ever happened to me."- he whimpers, his eyes teary from the pain and embarassment he feels. "I just lost the last ounce of confidence I had. Probably also gave myself a concussion."

"It's okay, things like this happen in the bedroom all the time. This isn't a porn movie or something."- you try to comfort him.

"Y/n, just laugh at me. I can hear it in your voice."- he sniffles and you sigh.

"I won't laugh at you, I promise, I'm sorry, okay? It's my fault for putting the stupid shelf there."- you wrap your arms around him and Felix wants the earth to open up and make him disappear right this instant.

"No, it's my fault for being clumsy and embarassing."- he whimpers. "And my head really hurts now."- he adds, thinking that this wasn't one of the scenarios he prepared for.

"We can put some ice on it. I'll give you some painkillers. Just look at me first."- you say, caressing him.

"Nuh-uh."- he refuses to budge as you try to turn him around.

"Come on Lixie, it's not that serious. We can continue later."- you lean in and kiss his shoulder.

"You still wanna continue?"- he finally turns to look at you and your heart hurts at his teary eyes.

"Ofcourse I do."- you coo at him as you pull him into your arms and he buries his face in your chest.

"Me too but I need to gather all my brain cells back first."- he mumbles into your skin and you chuckle as you hold him, gently caressing his head.

"They're around somewhere."- you joke, trying to relax him. "We'll find them. We have all night."

"We do, yeah?"- he looks up at you with his big bambi eyes, making your heart swell as you lean in and kiss him lovingly.

You're sitting in the kitchen, him in his boxers and you in one of his shirts you borrowed as you hold the bag of frozen peas on his head.

He drinks the painkillers you gave him with water and looks at you, his face red and eyes full of regret and embarassment.

"I knew it couldn't be perfect. I'm sorry y/n, I really wanted to make you feel good and-"

"Lix, nothing is perfect. Stuff like this happens a lot, trust me. At least we have a funny memory we can always remember."- he sighs and nods.

"And you did make me feel good. So don't worry. This is just like... intermission."- you say and he chuckles. "There's still a whole other part of entertainment we will get to."- you add, smirking as you lean closer to his face.

"I feel like that's gonna be my favorite part."- he says and you agree, chuckling with him.

"Let's just not entertain ourselves under the shelf anymore because I don't think my head and my pride can take any more blows."- Felix says and you laugh as you lean in to kiss him.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

Hope you like this lovey💕🤭 @lixies-favorite-cookie

[aventurineswife]

Hi! I had this idea a few days ago so I was wondering if you could.

The hsr characters (Aventurine, Sampo, Childe and Scar) have a child with the reader, the detail is that their child is quite attached to them both, so they cry if not both with him or he will grab his manga with teary eyes so he doesn't leave. Is this a funny scenario? I created it, take your time for this request!

{💤🩵} anon

“I want my Daddy!”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Childe x Reader, Scar x Reader, Family Bonding, Fluff, Domestic Life, Parental Love, Comfort, Reunion, Emotional Scenes, Tender Moments, Father-Child Relationship, Slice of Life.

Warnings: Light Angst, Mentions of Separation, Child's Fear of Abandonment, Emotional Vulnerability.

A/N: BRO WHY AM I GETTING SO MANY DAD AVENTURINE REQS ALL OF A SUDDEN?! LIKE I JUST FINISHED WRITING THE DAD AVENTURINE FIC!! 😭 I guess, time to cry fr 😕💔 Also, I changed it a bit since I had hard time understanding the req(I'm dumb sorry) so I hope you don't mind!

The soft light of your shared apartment filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks over the plush carpet where your child, a tiny bundle of energy and love, sat cross-legged. Their favorite manga rested in their small hands, though the pages were blurred by the teardrops welling in their wide eyes mirroring Aventurine’s. They hiccupped, looking at you pleadingly.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” they asked, voice trembling. You crouched down, smoothing their hair, identical to their father’s, and offered a warm smile.

“Soon, sweetheart. He’s just working hard to bring us something special.” You knew Aventurine’s job often meant long hours and the occasional high-stakes gamble, but he always made time for family.

As if summoned by your words, the door clicked open, and Aventurine’s charismatic presence filled the room. His coat swayed dramatically as he stepped in, eyes lighting up when he saw your child launch toward him, manga forgotten on the floor. “Daddy!”

He caught them mid-leap, twirling them before placing a soft kiss on their forehead. “Did you miss me already, darling? You’re going to make me think I should quit the IPC and stay home all day.” His teasing tone belied the genuine warmth in his voice. He shot you a wink, and together, the three of you melted into a laughter-filled embrace.

The marketplace bustled outside, but the cheery noises of haggling merchants were drowned out by the soft sniffles of your little one. They sat curled up on the couch, clutching their manga as though it could conjure Sampo back from wherever his latest “business deal” had taken him. Their eyes peeked up at you tearfully.

“I know Daddy promised to be back,” they murmured, burying their face further into the book. “But what if he got lost? Or—”

“Hey now,” you interrupted gently, brushing their dark blue bangs aside. “You know your dad’s the slipperiest guy in the entire Belobog. No one’s catching him—he’ll be home soon.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and in waltzed Sampo, his jacket swinging. “Did I hear someone missing their old man?” He grinned, arms wide as your child bolted toward him. “Ah, there’s my little business partner!”

He spun them around before collapsing dramatically onto the couch with them in his lap. “What’s this? Reading manga without me? Betrayal!” he cried, only to be silenced by their joyful giggles.

You watched from afar as the two reunited, your heart full at the sight of Sampo’s humor and charm seamlessly calming your little one’s worries.

(Header credits)

Your child’s muffled sobs echoed through the quiet of the living room. The little one, with hair that matched Childe’s, sat curled into a ball on the couch, clutching their favorite manga against their chest. Tears rolled down their cheeks, but they were trying to be brave, just like their father always taught them.

“Mommy/Papa, when’s Daddy coming back?” they asked between hiccups, their eyes wide and glistening with tears. You crouched beside them, pulling them close and wiping their tears away.

“Soon, my little warrior,” you promised. “Daddy’s out doing important work, but he’ll be back before you know it.”

As if on cue, the front door opened with a creak. Childe’s tall frame filled the doorway, his bow slung casually over his back. His eyes softened instantly at the sight of your tearful child.

“Daddy!” They leapt from the couch, manga forgotten, and ran into his waiting arms. He scooped them up effortlessly, holding them close.

“Hey there, my little fighter. Have you been holding down the fort for me?” he teased gently, ruffling their hair. “Missed me that much, huh?”

They nodded furiously, their tiny arms clinging tightly to his neck. “Don’t go away again, Daddy.”

Childe chuckled, shooting you a warm smile over their shoulder. “I’ll always come back to you, I promise.”

The quiet hum of the room was broken only by the soft sniffles of your little one, their small hands clutching a manga as though it could summon Scar back. They sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, their mismatched eyes—just like his—glistening with unshed tears. They looked up at you, their lips trembling.

“When’s Daddy coming back?” they asked, their voice barely above a whisper. “It’s too quiet without him.”

You knelt beside them, brushing their hair back gently. “Soon, my love,” you murmured, your tone soothing. “Daddy’s never gone for long. He’s just working on something very important, you know how he is.”

They hiccupped, clutching the manga tighter. “But what if he gets hurt again? What if he doesn’t come back this time?” Their wide-eyed gaze pierced you, filled with an innocent fear that only Scar’s reassurances could truly soothe.

Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and Scar’s voice filled the room, low and melodic. “Hurt? Me? Never. You know your old man is indestructible.”

Your child’s head snapped up, their tears momentarily forgotten as they bolted toward the door. “Daddy!” they cried, dropping the manga to the floor as they threw themselves into his waiting arms.

Scar knelt to catch them, his dramatic flair shining even in this tender moment. He twirled them once before cradling them close, his mismatched eyes softening as he pressed a kiss to their forehead. “Did you think I’d stay away from my two favorite people for long?” he teased, his usual wide smile gentler now. “I told you, didn’t I? No force in this world can keep me away.”

Their tiny arms wrapped tightly around his neck as they sobbed into his shoulder. “Don’t leave again, Daddy. Please.”

He glanced at you over their head, his gaze meeting yours with an unspoken promise. “I’ll always come back,” he said softly, more to you than the child. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[pullupinarari]

The house feels haunted [LH]

author’s note: it took me 6 days to write the biggest angst this blog has ever seen. i’m sorry if it turns out to be shit, but this made me feel miserable so I hope yall enjoy it 😭

warnings: there are mentions of cheating and a miscarriage happens in this fic. it’s nothing too specific but there’s mentions of blood. it’s devastating, heartbreaking, and it has a sad ending. if you don’t want to read it, don’t feel the need to announce it. read at your own risk‼️

• masterlist

wc: 13 673 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

You were never a fan of storms. You never really enjoyed hearing the sound of the thunder hitting the ground at a forceful speed, with a power that seemed as if it was fed by anger, making you shake in your sleep as if you didn’t feel safe inside your own house. 

The way the lightning would appear like a flash inside the four walls of your bedroom, making goosebumps appear on your skin as your brain would let you know: it’s hitting. It can hit anywhere near you right now, and it can set everything in to a fury of flames around you, burning you alive if you’re not lucky enough to survive, to make it out alive. 

Usually during those nights, your boyfriend Lewis would hug you tighter, kissing the top of your head nonstop while your body would tremble in his arms. He would softly hum a lullaby to you, his fingers playing with your hair gently, letting you know that everything is fine, that you don’t need to be afraid: and if anything happens, he would be by your side to protect you. 

In the middle of waking up and falling asleep a countless amount of times during the night, you could always find the warm comfort of his frame, faithfully glued to yours, ready to embrace your figure a little closer if needed. 

For the past few days, it seems as if your life is being chased by a storm though. After Lewis came back home from being away in a work meeting abroad, your boyfriend seemed distant. His eyes wouldn’t shine as bright as they used to when he looked at you, he was quiet most of the time when he was near you, as if he wasn’t happy to see you again. The intrusive thoughts in your mind were quick to come up with a thousand different scenarios of everything that could be happening for him to be acting so weird lately. 

“Maybe he is preparing a surprise?” , “but it’s not my birthday, nor our anniversary”, “OH, maybe he is going to propose? Maybe he is nervous because he has been thinking about it?”, your mind asks and answers at the same time, your fingers playing with the promise ring on your finger. 

A few weeks before leaving for his work trip, your boyfriend mentioned a couple of times how he would like to “take the next step” with you, how gorgeous you look when wearing white, displaying a teasing wink on his features while the most charming smile would show on his lips. So maybe, he kept thinking about it while being away, missing his girlfriend to the point of wanting to fly you out to his hotel room. 

The anxiety of the unknown would carve on your stomach, trying to read his mind, until he figured out that he needed to be honest with you. 

Ironically, it happened on a rainy day. The drops of water hitting the windows would announce the bad omen surrounding the four walls of the house you have been sharing with Lewis for three years now. 

- I need some space, Y/N. I can’t keep doing it like this. I need time for myself, I need to live my life on my own for a while. I just need to be alone. - he said to you, his words careful to leave his mouth, as if they had been thought and rethought a thousand times, until Lewis found the best way to let them out. With a soft tone, his voice barely above a whisper, it almost felt like he wasn’t breaking your heart in half. 

But he was. It took you a second to process the message he was passing you, but once your brain received it, your instinct was to hold the man’s face in your hands, your fingers caressing his cheeks as your tear-filled eyes would look inside his chocolate ones, trying to read him again, to see through him, to try and understand why this is happening. 

- Lew? No, no, baby please! Why do you want a break from me, from us? Was it something I did? I can do better, I promise, I will try not to be so clingy if that’s the problem, I’ll try to- 

Cutting you off, Lewis’ hands gently grabs your wrists, removing your fingers from his face, distancing your bodies a bit as you got closer to him while trying to find a way to save your relationship. 

- This is on me, Y/N. You did nothing wrong, I swear you didn’t. I just need space for myself, I need to dedicate some time to my mind as well, and I need to do it on my own. - his voice is growing hoarse as he records all the tears swelling in your eyes, falling on the skin of your rosy cheeks, growing redder due to the fire collapsing inside of your body.

You weren’t expecting it. Never, in a million years, were you ready to hear your boyfriend saying that he wants to move on with his life, without having you by his side. Maybe you were wrong, maybe all those nights where you would feed your thoughts with illusions of him proposing to you, deceiving yourself so you can keep your mind busy, denying all the negative possibilities that could happen, maybe that’s what brought you here.

You still don’t know why he wants to be alone, now. Maybe you were always way too busy in your own fantasy to see the signals that might have been there all along, only to be ignored by you. But as he distances himself more and more from you after those last words left his body, you knew that nothing would make him change his mind. 

Packing your clothes with your eyes full of tears was the most hurtful thing that you have ever done. Having to leave the only place that has felt like home for so long, where you would feel safe, with the only person who was able to love you the way you are, with no judgments, no restrictions, no interruptions. 

With a simple bag over your shoulder, having no force in yourself to pack everything right now, you show up in the living room where Lewis was sitting, waiting for you to finish packing. 

His face is laced with coldness, as if it’s almost indifferent for him to watch you leave, to forget about the four years of his life that he has shared with you, three of them while sharing this place where you would call your shelter, the four walls that would protect the both of you, in the embrace of the other’s arms, feeling seen and understood by one another. 

Taking one last look at him, you could swear that you would grab his hand and take him with you to see the sea, through your eyes. The ones where the waves of emotion don’t stop crashing against your skin, leaving indentations along your features, staining your cheeks with their shape as the salty water keeps running until it reaches your chin. 

The deafening silence fills the room. Neither of you knows what to say, but neither of you feels the need to say anything. Just by looking at your face, Lewis can already feel his heart clenching in his chest, and the endless tears leaving your eyes are enough for him to discover how great the sadness of this world is. 

There’s no point in telling you that he is sorry, or how he wishes things could be different. He wouldn’t mean it, anyway. So without a word, he just sees you walking out the door, and out of his life - his brain still trying to figure out if it’s temporary or definitely.

You expected more from your life than to walk out of your ex-boyfriend’s house with just a bag in your hands, a tear stained face and a broken heart. You expected more than to find yourself muffling your cries on a pillow, lying your sore body on a cold bed, one that you don’t recognize, that definitely doesn’t feel like home, the way your sheets used to. 

Staying at a hotel room, all you can do is let it out now to the four walls that don’t know you yet, but are about to become your most truthful confidants. Right now, you don’t want to call your parents, your brother, you don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened. You grabbed your most important belongings from Lewis’ house, and you will go back to pack the rest of your things once you clear your mind and figure everything out. 

But now, it’s just you, the pillow you’re hugging close, and the raindrops hitting the window, your eyes watching them dancing in the glass, while your own drops of sadness leave your body as well. 

The sky doesn’t clear, it’s been heavily grey for some days now, the clouds occupying the entire space on the highness of the atmosphere, never indicating that they can disappear soon. When you look outside, it’s like you get a visual representation of your love life, of your feelings, a storm that’s slowly forming in the midst of your core, changing the promises of your happy future forever. 

And even as the days go by, the agonizing pain in your chest doesn’t cease. Crying yourself to sleep every night, struggling to focus on your work without crumbling down into a puddle of tears. 

You haven’t been eating much, always feeling drained to your core, exhausted all the time, not even feeling like getting out of bed. What’s the point in trying to take one day at a time, if your mind just continues to repeat the pain in your heart, relieving all the words that left Lewis’ mouth when he kicked you to the curb. 

Your body feels weird, weak, but you’re too heartbroken to care. You feel too lifeless to listen to the signs that something is happening with you, constantly ignoring the way your stomach feels off, how you often get nauseous just by looking at food, to the point of ignoring the fact that your period is late. But it’s okay, it’s just a consequence of all the stress and emotional turmoil that you have been going through, your body will - hopefully - go back to normal in a few weeks. 

But it doesn’t. And it’s not until your brother is handing you a pregnancy test - that he went to buy at a nearby pharmacy, after you told him everything that’s been happening to your body lately, that you acknowledge the symptoms. 

Two, bright, red lines. The result that swept you off your feet, changing your perspective of life forever. Your trembling hands hold the test, warm tears paint your eyes as you try to compose your breathing. 

For some minutes, your brain crashes, not understanding if this is good news or not. On one hand, you don’t feel ready to deal with a pregnancy right now, to raise a baby on your own, especially while feeling so hurt and heartbroken. But on the other hand, everything happens for a reason, right? You know how Lewis always dreamt of being a dad, so maybe this could be a sign: a sign of hope, telling you that there’s still something bright out there for you to look out for. Maybe, after breaking the news to him, Lewis might love you again, enamoured by the thought of creating a family by your side, like he used to mention so many times before. 

Some shy feelings of hope tingle in your stomach now, making you caress your belly mindlessly. There’s a baby growing inside of you, after all. A baby that was made out of love, the type of love that Lewis just needs to remind himself of again, to allow himself to feel it beating in his chest while looking deep into your eyes. 

That night, you go to sleep with a mix of emotions bubbling inside of you. The thought of becoming a mum makes an effortless smile appear in your features, happy tears appearing in the corners of your eyes as you imagine how your belly will grow in the next few months, how you are living the true miracle of life, your body sheltering your baby - everything you have ever wanted. 

But still, there’s a hint of unsureness, feeling hesitant to go back to Lewis’ place to tell him the news, to look at his face again after the cold gaze he shared with you last time. Nevertheless, this is his baby as well, and he has the right to know that a little one who is half of him, is on its way - and even if he decides not to be part of your child’s life, at least you did your part, and you can live the rest of your life with your kid without feeling anymore remorse or regrets. But right now, you can only go to sleep with the hope of a brighter tomorrow, of a day where the sun will finally show up, illuminating the most hidden corners of each street, helping to give you a good feeling about what you are going to do.

Surprisingly, you wake up to a heavy rain, the heaviest of the past couple of weeks. The skies are painted in a dark grey, making you furrow your eyebrows at the way the weather seems to match perfectly the way you feel. 

Taking a deep breath, you get ready to leave your hotel room, calling a taxi to take you to your ex-boyfriend’s house. While you’re on your way, you can’t help but notice that insecure feeling pooling in your chest again, how you feel anxious and unsure about knocking on his door again. 

He did ask you to give him some time, you don’t want to disturb him, you don't want him to think that you can’t leave him alone. This is not what this is about, this is about something bigger than just the two of you and the end of your relationship, this is important, way more important than anything else you two might feel or need right now. 

His car is parked outside, signaling that he is home. Trying to ignore the way your heart is pumping blood into your veins at a crazy speed, you take several deep breaths while standing in front of his door, not having the courage to ring the bell. You can feel the hot tears threatening to spill out of your eyes already, but you hold it together, composing yourself to act like an adult, like an independent woman who has a baby growing inside her right now. 

The rain hasn’t stopped and somehow, it keeps falling heavier and heavier as time passes by. Your clothes are wet, your hair is soaked from standing on the front of his house, but there’s a warm hand touching your stomach absently, caressing the little bean that seems to support you so much already. 

With one final deep breath, you finally ring the bell, the anxiety making you fidget, as if you can’t stay still, waiting for him to open the door. Some minutes pass by, and you can’t help but find it weird that he is taking so long to open the door. So, out of urgency, you ring the bell again. 

You decide to look to the road, watching some cars passing by as you try to distract yourself from the fact that you are waiting to see him again. You notice the shadow of a person coming to the door, your heart racing in your chest as you get ready to look into his chocolate eyes again. 

But, as the door finally opens, you find yourself unable to move. Your eyes widen at the sight, your mouth slightly agape, not believing what you’re seeing right now. 

- Who is it, Sophs? - you hear Lewis’ voice, directing your eyes to his frame that comes into sight a few seconds later. 

Sophia, one of your best friends, the one you shared all your life details with, looking back at you with the guiltiest look on her face. Her hair is a mess, she’s wearing one of Lewis’ t-shirts - your favourite one, the one you used to wear every night while he was away for work, the feeling of comfort by being wrapped in his scent always lulling you to sleep in his absence. 

The man grows silent as his eyes land on you as well, not knowing what to do or say in this situation, definitely not expecting to see you, to have you knocking on his door in the middle of a rainy afternoon, only to find him with your best friend. 

A simple towel, loosely wrapped around his waist is the only thing that’s covering his lower body, his bare chest in full display and your vision goes blurry by the amount of tears that soon start escaping your eyes. 

- Lewis… - a shocked, desperate, questioning whisper leaves your mouth, your hand holding your stomach tighter, as if your conscience is telling you that you have something to hold on to, so your knees don’t give out right now.

You take one last glance at both of them, mindlessly showing them a quiet nod, a hurt one, connecting all the dots in your mind before turning your back to the two people that you never want to see again in your entire life, the sight and scenarios running through your mind being unbearable. The screaming feeling in your chest is so loud that you bet everyone around you can hear it, destruction and desperation hitting you again as you run out of his place, using all your strength to escape this horror movie that you got into. 

Your sobs are loud in the middle of the street while your tears mix with the raindrops that find their place in your skin, walking on the rain - feeling so hopeless, on the verge of wishing life to end up right here, right now, because there’s nothing left for you after all this. 

The only man you truly loved, the only one that made you feel cared for, loved, understood, seen. The one you would do everything for. After all the times you cherished him, supported him through his career, holding everything down at home so he could feel free enough to fly high, to conquer the world, even after knowing how you hated to be alone, how you would wish for him to never leave your side. You still did it for him, and you would go through hell to make your relationship work, to see him happy, only for him to feel like the world was his. You knew that was what he had to do, and you would be happy for him as well. Still, you built all your dreams around him, only for him to break it down into ashes, right in front of you.

And now, he crushed your heart into pieces in a matter of weeks, destroying every beautiful memory that you two shared over the years, betraying you in such a cruel, raw way, treating you like you meant nothing to him now, like you never did, actually. 

And your best friend. Sophia, your fucking best friend, the one you’ve known since you were four years old, the friend you grew beside, the one who became your soulmate, the one you would take on every adventure through life, the one you trusted with your life. 

The two together, their bodies entangled in between the sheets, in an unimaginable moment for the three - neither of you wanting things to really happen this way. 

In one last leap of faith, you call your brother, crying to him on the phone, begging to pick you up, not trusting your body nor anyone around you anymore. 

Waking up with a tear-stained face, an exasperated sigh leaves your body. Exhaustion really took over you once you got to your brother’s house, realizing that your current condition doesn’t allow you to run like a madwoman in the rain anymore. 

There’s already a tray of food on the bedside table, waiting for you to wake up, making a groan leave your throat as you hide your face in the pillows. Your head hurts, your mind feels insufferable, your body feels weak. You are not hungry, the last thing you want to think about right now is food. But then, you force yourself to switch your chip. There’s a life inside of you, growing by the day, even if you feel like dying. And if you can’t find the strength to survive for your own well being, it is your duty to do it for your baby. 

And that’s how you try to look at life for the first days, after everything that happened. Forcing yourself to eat, to drink enough water through the day, to go for a walk, to get some fresh air and some bits of a shy sun that insists on showing up from time to time for only a couple of minutes. 

Your loyal support, your brother, never left your side through it all. He was the one scheduling your first doctor’s appointment ever since you found out you were pregnant, wanting to know if his niece or nephew was okay, not wanting your emotional state to cause any damage to the baby. 

Finding out that you are already seven weeks pregnant came as a surprise to you, not realizing how fast time is passing by while you just seem to be living in slow motion. With a numb mind and a sore heart, everything seems harder to process. But nothing could have prepared you for the moment when you would get to hear your baby’s heartbeat. 

The fast, rhythmic sound of your baby’s small heart, creating an orchestral music that changed the entire environment around you, immediately triggering new tears to leave your eyes. But as surprising as it seems, these aren’t sad, heartbroken tears. These are new ones, the kind that you haven’t felt in so long - the happy tears that seem to warm your insides as they slide through your cheeks. 

This is a turning point for you - you can feel it. It’s like the heartbeat of the small life that’s growing inside of you fills your veins with a sense of hope, of a type of love that you never felt, but the one you are needing now, more than never. It seems that the skies and all the gods got together to hear your prayers, your loud sobs and cries, gathering a solution to help mending your pain: your child, someone for you to take care of, to love, to cherish - a little one that will definitely put all of your pieces back together, helping you in ways that neither of you could ever understand.

And now, you realize how real this is. How you have a baby that’s part of you, that you will be able to hold in your arms if you are patient enough to wait eight more months - and brave enough to deal with all the changes that this period will bring to your life. 

Above it all, you understand that you can’t give up - on yourself, on life. You have a higher purpose, something that’s so much more important than just an ex-boyfriend, making every past event seem so small and unimportant when compared to how badly your baby needs you. 

You are its shelter, its home. You are the only thing your child has right now, and you can’t fail the most important role of your life, from now on. Looking at the little bean on the ultrasound’s screen, a gentle smile finally paints your features. There’s your future, your reason to hold on tight to life again, your reason to continue living, the small glimpse of hope that will help you find the beauty in everything again.

It’s with your head lifted and with an undimmed heart that you leave the doctor’s appointment. Feeling lighter than air, your fingers gently wipe the tears that last escaped from your eyes, letting out a sigh that seems to relieve all the weight that has been lying on your shoulders, lately. It amazes you how the little glimpse of life inside of you has the power to change your life in such profound ways. 

You’re willing to change, things really need to change. You can’t just continue to pretend that you’re living, while rotting in bed all day, silently crying to a pillow, allowing your body to immerse itself in these destructive feelings and thoughts. You need to be strong for your child, regardless of everything that happened. 

Lewis is a matter of the past, now. Anything that he might have done doesn't matter to you anymore, it’s not your business to keep him in your mind for hours on end, making you feel like you’re the worst person in this world. 

For the past few weeks, all you did was allow your mind to consume you, your brightness, your will to live. You felt like you were dying inside, but looking back now, you realize how crazy you were for even thinking that. You’re not dying inside, you’re rebirthing, literally creating a new life inside of your body, one that will step on this land and make every flower blossom again, allowing the sun to shine even brighter in your direction. 

With the determination to create a better future for yourself and your kid, you pack your bags, leaving your brother’s house. You thank him for everything he has done for you, and for all of the things that he will keep doing, holding you when you need it the most. But it’s time to start a new chapter of your life, after weeks of mourning the loss of something that was never really yours. 

Moving to a new place, in a new city just thirty minutes away from your family - not too far, but not too close to constantly remind you of your past, you prepare yourself for the new life you will have from now on.

Now, the rain doesn’t show up as much as it used to. Now, the sun comes out for longer, illuminating your desk at your new work, invading the curtains of your new house, playing with your features as it illuminates your eyes, shining in your hair, emphasizing the way your bump grows through the weeks. 

The changes are fast, your body preparing itself to all your baby’s needs. Excitement grows by the day, erupting through you the more you find out about your little savior. 

It’s a girl, you just recently found out, and her name just immediately resonated inside of your mind, of your chest: Hope. The one who came to your life to show you the light, to save you, to guide you through a different path, to mend your heart and shush away all your pain.

Even if there are days that feel as unreachable and lonely as the stars that hang tall on the dark sky of the night, making you sense that you are living only on a few mortal verses of your life, through the pages of the book on your lap, there’s always a calming, warm hand that travels through your baby bump, helping to ground yourself, to let you know that you are not alone, and you won’t even have to feel like you are anymore - you found yourself a life partner, one that will forever be by your side.

Now, you keep yourself busy by buying lots of pink and purple clothes, decorating your little girl’s nursery with soft tones, ones that symbolize peace and quiet, hope and renovation - the sensations she brings into your life. 

You created a photo album for little Hope, one that already has all the ultrasound pictures inside, the beginning of your princess’ life being something so important for you to keep safe inside the pages of the album already. 

Most of your clothes stopped fitting you already, reaching your fifth month of pregnancy. The dresses got looser, your bump developing in the most gracious way you have ever witnessed, like a baby bird, safely nestling itself on its mother’s wing. 

The kaleidoscope of butterflies that erupted through your entire being on the moment you first felt your girl moving inside of you, is indescribable. The proof that every day, you are one day closer to meeting your baby girl, now, finally becomes even more real as your fingers gently touch your belly to meet her soft kicks, meeting your soulmate even before she arrives in this world. 

Now, your smile appears more often on your lips, picking up some flowers from your garden as the sun warms your skin. Even if you don’t have an excuse for most of the goodbyes you had to say when you left your old house, the newfound feeling of peace and love growing inside of you by the second, make everything worth it. It’s just you and your baby girl, your parents and your brother that come and visit you often, and the expectation of a bright future.

Everything truly felt like a dream, until that fateful morning when you woke up with the sound of thunder hitting. It’s been a while since you’ve heard the sound that could make your insides shake with fear, making your heart race in your chest as you were startled by the storm. 

You have been feeling off the entire day, your body was sore, you felt light headed and weak, almost on the verge of passing out if you allowed your knees to collapse. For hours, you felt absolutely exhausted, even if you had just gotten out of bed after sleeping for an entire night. Your stomach felt weird, making you lose all your appetite, even if you would try and force some food inside your body, thinking about your little Hope’s well-being.

Throughout the day, some cramps occupy your lower stomach, igniting a sense of insecurity in your brain. The pain grows more intense as the time goes by, mixing your senses with the dizziness surrounding your head. You try not to think much about it, imagining it can be just a bad day, lack of rest or just something that you ate that wasn’t good for you. But the spots of blood on your pyjama shorts are what caught your attention.

Panic immediately washes over you, sensing now that something might be really wrong, and your reflex kicks in, dialing 911 to get yourself an ambulance, not wanting to wait any longer, before something terrible happens. 

It all happened so fast, it felt like a blur to you, from the moment the paramedics got to your house, to the emptiness inside of you while lying on the hospital bed: surrounded by nurses, IV tubes, different machines connected to your body, you slowly open your eyes, feeling like you have just been sedated. 

Once you regain your consciousness, your hand reaches for one of the nurses’ arms. 

- Is my baby okay? What happened? Someone talk to me, please I need to know what happened. - you plead, only to be met with a sympathetic look on the nurse’s face.  - The doctor will be here soon to talk to you, ma’am, please just try to remain calm. - the lady holds your hand for some seconds before leaving your side. 

You’re in panic, your heart feels heavy and accelerated in your chest, trying to understand what happened, why no one is telling you anything, so your hand reaches for your source of love and comfort: your baby.

Your fingers gently caress your bump, grazing along your skin as you decide to touch your favorite spot, the one where your baby always touches back, meeting you through the barrier of your skin. After some attempts of touching the same place, your heart drops when you realize that your baby isn’t touching back, and you definitely don’t feel her moving in your belly anymore. And, as much as you try to keep calm, convincing yourself that maybe it’s just the effect of all the medication they are giving you, your maternal instinct can’t stop ringing inside of you, letting you know that something is definitely not right. 

There’s not a single detail about the doctor’s face that helps calming you down one bit, once he enters the room. The man has a closed facial expression, looking as if he has been thinking about what he has to tell you. And, deep down, you already knew. 

He takes a stool, using it to sit next to your bed, so he could be eye level with you. There’s a sigh escaping his body, a heavy one, one that doesn’t bring good news attached to it.

- How are you feeling, Y/N? - he asks, briefly checking your vitals on one of the screens beside you. 

You know he is trying to make small talk, trying to find a way to initiate the conversation, until he has the guts to touch the topic he is currently avoiding. 

- Doctor, I just want to know how my daughter is doing. Please, I have the right to know what’s going on. I need to know. - your voice is cracking already, some small tears are making their appearance on the corners of your eyes. Your heart already knows, you can’t keep denying it. At this point, you’re just begging for someone to burst the bubble for you.  - Y/N… There were some unexpected complications, and we did everything we could, but unfortunately we weren’t able to save her… I’m very sorry for your loss. - his words come off slowly, weighted while showing you an understanding look, breaking down the news of a reality that you don’t want to face.

Soon enough, your body is met with an empty, cold room again, the deafening silence filling your veins as you cry out every emotion in your being to the point of exhaustion. Your baby girl is gone. The light of your life, the company that would never leave your side, the reason why the sky would be filled with such bright, beautiful colors at the end of every day. 

What if you die with all of the colours? In the same way that the sky turns black after the sunset, following the clouds that dress the dark blue, turning it into a painful shade of dark grey, reaching black while the moon stands tall in the atmosphere, only to hide behind one of the clouds. In this moment, your life has lost all meaning, all color surrounding your days. After this, what’s the reason to keep going? 

After Hope, the flood in your eyes, pouring from your heart, is everything you have left. Now, you won’t get to see the color of her eyes once you would finally cradle her in your arms, you won’t get to smell her hair, to touch her small, soft hands. Right now, the only thing you have left of her are the thoughts and dreams of all the nights when you imagined what she would look like. But that's just a dream that won't come true anymore.

Even while being in your belly, your daughter was able to hold you, to put together all your missing pieces. She gave you the sleep and all the dreams you needed to survive, every time her small fingers touched yours through your bump, hugging you the way she could. 

Maybe that was the purpose of her short passage through this dimension of life: to teach you more about the purest love that lives inside of us, and not on anyone else. But right now, the only thing you can do is cry and scream, question God and life, wanting to know why this is happening to you. Why did they have to take your baby girl away from you? 

You were never a fan of storms, until you felt the thunder hitting inside of you, wrecking you apart, ripping you to shreds, destroying every good thing that was left of you. And as the rain outside grows heavier, your heart can’t help but see them as the tears of your little one. The drops falling outside, hitting your window, are the tears of the ones who left already, missing their loved ones who stayed in this world - that are missing them in the same way, especially the ones who left way too soon, like your little princess. 

He doesn’t really know why, but ever since that rainy afternoon when you ran away from his house with a tear-stained face, Lewis was left with a heavy heart, like the echo of thunder - one that hasn’t left him for the past five months, constantly pumping inside of his chest, not giving him any rest.

He regrets what he did to you, he truly does. There’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t think about you, and there’s nothing more that he wants than to talk to you, look into your eyes again, letting you know how sorry he is: for the woman who left his bed, for making love the way he saved for you inside his head. 

Lewis still dreams about you, every single night. And since you are no longer next to him, all he wants to do lately is lay down, so his mind can bring you closer to him again, making it seem like all his mistakes have been erased, holding your figure in his arms gently like he used to love so much. 

But, every night, he ends up being tortured by his own mind, his guilty conscience not letting him rest while he replays every single thing that happened on the last day he saw you. Every time he washes his body, he thinks about the way his limbs were entangled with another woman’s, in between the same bed he used to love you in. Looking back now, it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth losing you, over some stupid one night fantasy, trading the love of a lifetime for someone who he never wants to see again, after his mind captured the heartbreak in your eyes. 

When he lies in his bed, his mind wishes your scent would still be in his sheets, calming down his racing heart to sleep. And it could be, having him not decided to bring another woman over - losing every bit of your existence that still lingered in his place.

His heart shrinks in his chest every time he remembers every detail of your skin, the precious features he used to hold safely in his hands while his lips would shower you with love. It’s you: the one for him, the missing piece in his heart, the half of his being that seems to disappear and never come back again. Your silence destroys him, and even while being blocked on your phone, he still insists on dialing your number every morning, almost falling in love with your voicemail message that seems to never abandon him, repeating your voice over and over again, even when his mind threatens to forget about it. 

Deep down, he knows he lost you - for good. But, for some reason, inside his mind, it’s like you just said ‘be right back!’, like you would tell him across the living room, when you would go out to do some grocery shopping. 

And even if he knows that he lost you, and that you don’t even want to look at his face again after everything he did, his heart can’t help but force him to wait, patiently looking at the dry flowers that you used to water before you left, that ended up dying, like all the love you held for him - waiting for you to open the door again, flashing him your bright smile at the sight of the love of your life lying in bed, waiting to cuddle you, so the love between your bodies can blossom again, the house can feel as bright as before, the flowers can come back to life. 

It hurts him to realize that you said goodbye, even after not really being here. Not talking to him, not wanting to hear everything that he has to say to you after you caught him in the most shameful moment of his life. And just like a fallen fighter, lying on the ring, waiting for the empty room, Lewis still waits for your love, even if that’s the last thing he will do with his life. 

There’s still some loose notes that he found around his place, love notes that you used to write him before you left for work, so your boyfriend could wake up to some loving messages from you - that and that he makes sure to keep reading on a daily basis now, to remember how much you used to love him, and how he managed to lose the most precious thing that has ever appeared in his life. 

I have the name of a flower when you call me. But, when you touch me, I don't even know if I'm water, a girl or an entire field of flowers that has crossed through me. - another letter reads, making tears tingle in the man’s brown eyes as his soul feels emptier by the day, when you’re not by his side. 

It’s hard for Lewis to pull through every hour of every day, knowing that you’re not in his life anymore, the reason why his heart would beat faster, making everything seem so dull without your giggles as the soundtrack of every moment you two would share. 

But nothing could prepare Lewis for the instant he ran into your mother. It was supposed to be just a normal, quick trip to the nearest pharmacy, so he could buy some vitamins, feeling a cold starting to get to him. 

His eyes darted through the space while he waited for someone to call his number in line. And that’s when his eyes landed on your mum, the nice, sweet lady that always accepted him in her family, as if he was her own son. 

Her hands are full with different boxes of pills, and his eyebrows furrow - could she be sick? Her face doesn’t make it seem like the lady is sick, but instead, she looks rather down, and he can’t help but notice how she’s all dressed in black, almost as if she was mourning the loss of someone. 

His heart can’t help but hurt at the thought of something happening to you, but he doesn’t feel the courage in himself to reach for the woman, to try and ask what happened, not after all the damage that he caused his daughter. 

Even if he tries not to stare too much at her, your mother recognizes him when she’s getting ready to leave the pharmacy, and she’s the one approaching Lewis. He can’t help but feel himself growing afraid of what your mother is about to tell him, this being the first time he gets the chance to talk to someone from your family, after everything that happened. But, somehow, the woman’s sad eyes let him know that she’s not reaching out to berate him.

- Hi Lewis… I don’t mean to bother you, but there’s something that I think you should know. - your mum’s tone is serious, alongside her closed facial expression, and that’s enough to startle your ex-boyfriend even more, growing worried that something actually might have happened to you. 

Walking outside the pharmacy into a secluded corner of the parking lot - trying to escape the heavy rain that insists on falling from the sky, Lewis keeps noticing how your mum’s breathing sounds heavy, like she is carrying all the weight of the world on her shoulders, and his anxiety just continues growing in anticipation. 

- Is everything alright, Carol? - Lewis asks, trying not to pressure the woman to talk, but feeling his nerves boiling with concern. 

His ex-mother-in-law takes a deep sigh, looking him in the eyes. 

- You were an absolute prick for what you’ve done to Y/N, everybody knows that. But still, I think you have the right to know, since you were the father… - your mum speaks softly, but still with some bitterness evident in her tongue.

Lewis’ face immediately scrunched at the word ‘father’. He was the what? 

- Excuse me, what? - he can’t help but interrupt your mother’s train of thought, not understanding what she’s trying to tell him right now.

The thing is, your mother knew that Lewis’ didn’t know about the loss, but she thought he knew that you were pregnant. But no, he didn’t. He didn’t know anything. And it takes a second for her to realize it, but once she does, a deeper sigh escapes her lips. 

- Y/N was pregnant, Lewis… when all of that happened between you two… She was already carrying your child, she found out when she was six weeks pregnant. I thought she had told you. - the woman briefly explained, making Lewis’ eyes widen, his mouth hanging open, at a complete loss for words at what he is finding out, now. 

No, you didn’t tell him, and now he understands why. That morning, when you showed up at his place, you were going to tell him. But you ended up not doing it, due to the miserable picture that you met once the door opened. 

Lewis forcefully closes his eyes, wishing things could go back to normal once he opens them again, but they can’t. There’s a whirlwind of new information swirling around his brain, and he is struggling to keep up, to let it sink in, but he feels like all the air just got ripped out of his lungs. However, there’s still more to come. 

- No, I didn’t know, unfortunately. But, you said she ‘was’...? - These last words leave his mouth slowly, a whisper that he is scared to unravel if he speaks louder, not wanting to come to terms with a harsher reality. 

Carol just nods her head ‘yes’, visibly growing emotional as Lewis feels his entire world collapsing around him, now. 

- There were some unexpected complications… Y/N rushed to the hospital, she said she was in a lot of pain, the doctors admitted her immediately… But unfortunately, they couldn’t save the baby. Her name was Hope. Your daughter, my granddaughter. - your mum is now fully crying as the pain still feels fresh on her skin. The woman covers her eyes with her hands momentarily, while Lewis is just looking around in pure shock, feeling some tears showing up on his eyes as well. 

He feels a part of himself dying as well, just by knowing that he was going to be a dad, a girl dad, his biggest dream ever. The love of his life was expecting his baby, and not only was he dumb enough to waste everything you two had, but he also wasn’t by your side while you were going through the worst moment, the greatest loss of your entire life. 

And for some seconds, your mum and Lewis just silently share the tears escaping their eyes, the man not really knowing what to say after this bomb that just dropped in his chest. 

- Was there someone else with her? - he finally speaks up, not knowing if you decided to restart your life with someone else, or if your family was by your side through this hard time.  - She only told us about it once she left the hospital… We went to visit her after, but unfortunately she was there all alone when all that was happening, oh my poor baby girl. - the woman’s cries are the ones of a mother who couldn’t protect her daughter, be there for her when she needed it the most… just like the sobs leaving your body every night, because you were not able to save your princess. - But believe me, Lewis: that baby was a little fighter. Just like her mum. 

His hands rub his face, a sigh escaping his figure now as well, not really wanting to believe that all of this is real. 

- And how is she? -  Lewis asks, thinking about your state, how you must be feeling terribly, how badly you must need someone to be by your side, and how desperately he feels the need to reach for you, to mourn the loss of the angel that was half of you and half of him. - These are for her. - your mum shows him the meds she just bought. - Physically, she is still recovering, but emotionally, she is absolutely destroyed, Lewis. I am afraid that I lost my little girl forever, as well. She will never be the same again. - your mother can’t help but share a hug with Lewis, the man who loved you, who made your sparkle shine for so long, the one everyone thought would be your ‘forever’. And also the one who lost you as well, without any chance of getting you back.  - Anyway, my son will be visiting her tomorrow, so he can bring her this medication, and right now, the only thing we can do is give her time. It will take her a long while to recover from all this. - the woman says, wiping away her tears as she tries to compose herself. 

At her words, Lewis’ brain lights up with an idea. 

- Can I come with him? Please, I need to see her. I need to see her more than ever now. - he pleads, seeing the way your mum’s face closes again, her features so similar to yours, definitely not thinking it’s a good idea. - Please, Carol. You said it earlier, I have the right to know, I have the right to talk to her, at least one more time. It was my baby as well, and I didn’t even know anything about her! -  Lewis insists, trying to get the woman to give in to his begging.  - Well, we all know why you didn’t know a thing about your daughter, Lewis. - the words hit him like a ton of bricks, making him go silent for a minute, knowing that she is right. He didn’t know anything about his child, because he made the dumbest, worst mistake of his entire life. 

But, if there’s something that Lewis might be thankful for, is the soft spot in your mum’s heart for him. Deep down, she just wished everything could go back to normal, to the way things were before, so she could look into her daughter’s eyes and see the sunshine on them again, instead of having to deal with the pain of seeing you so miserable. Your mother doesn’t know how you are going to react to the sight of Lewis being in front of you again, but she can only hope that maybe it might help you in some way, softening your broken heart, as you share the pain of losing something so dear to both of you, that you never got to meet. So, sighing, she gives in. 

- Okay, maybe you can go with Simon. But if you mess this up one more time, I’m never looking at your face ever again, Lewis. You need to keep in mind that this is partially your fault, as well. You can’t just meet her and think that you will win my daughter over again, because that won’t happen. I’m warning you. - the woman says to him, before finally entering her car and driving away. 

Lewis walks inside his car as well, taking a deep breath as he leans his head on his seat. Finally, the tears fall free from his eyes as he allows himself to feel everything in his bones. Every information, every mental image of you pregnant, suffering alone, losing your baby.

And he wasn’t there. And he didn’t know about it. He wasn’t there to go with you to your doctor appointments, to hear his daughter’s heartbeat, to caress your belly, to rub your feet once they started swelling, to hold your hair back when your morning sickness got the best of you. He was the father of that baby. He should have been there all along, by your side. And he didn’t, because of one dumb, unreasonable decision that he randomly made on one night, just because he was feeling bored to spend the night alone. 

Now, everything makes sense. Your hand in your belly once he saw you at his door, the regret, pain, splattered all over your eyes as you took in the scene unfolding inside his house, the definition of another woman’s touch on his body. 

He feels sick to his stomach, grossed out by himself, not bearing to be inside his own body right now. The man punches the steering wheel one time after the other, sobs and screams leaving his frame as he feels an inexplicable anger growing inside of him. But he is not angry at you - he could never be. He is angry at himself, at his actions. 

What if he had chosen to run after you, on that rainy afternoon? What if he had decided to follow his gut, that was telling him to meet you, to not let you go. Maybe things would be different - or not. At least, maybe you could have told him about the pregnancy, maybe he could have been a bit more involved in your baby’s small existence. 

But instead, he decided to leave you alone, not wanting to put salt in your wounds even further. Little did he know that he was just starting a storm inside of you, leaving you to deal with the consequences of it all by yourself. 

The raindrops are loud when they hit his car windows, almost as if they’re trying to muffle the loud cries escaping the man’s body, so the world couldn’t hear how destroyed he is right now. 

When you needed him the most, he didn’t show up. He didn’t feel any urgency in coming to your place after promising you the future and ripping every shred of hope out of your soul, playing with your feelings, stringing you along and masking it as if it was nothing, seeing the desperation in your features, the hurt painted in your eyes, so devastatingly that it could send bullets straight to his chest.

The only thing he gave you was the discouragement of a broken heart, of a lonely soul who lost everything it once had. But desire is the limit of the mere mortals, and wishing he could make it different right now, is the only thing he can do, but it won’t change a thing. He ruined the most important thing of his life, and above all, he lost the chance of growing the happiest of families by your side, ruining it so hard that he didn’t even get to meet his daughter. 

Your mother’s words echo through his mind. A little fighter, just like her mum, and he can’t stop thinking about how life has been so cruelly good to him lately: standing high on podiums, travelling through the world, succeeding in each task he would dedicate himself to. While you were suffering, in pain, crying, alone, bleeding for your baby, losing part of yourself in the process, while he had no clue about what was going on: his daughter, that would desperately need a father to hold her, to protect her, to lull her to sleep. One that never got to touch her mother’s belly to meet her small hand, to speak to her, to kiss her through the skin on the bump she comfortably used to lay. One that she didn't get to meet while she was still breathing. 

How could he dare to even feel an ounce of happiness in his body, even when his mind would feel heavy with the thought of you? While you were yelling out of desperation, the sound almost reverberated in his lungs, making him feel like something wasn’t right. While you were trembling out of agony, feeling yourself dying in seconds on that fateful day. Only to be heard, comforted by strangers. When he should have been there, he should have been better to you.

And on that night, Lewis can’t even fall asleep. Tears keep falling free from his eyes as it almost feels as if he can hear the sounds of your screams echoing through the walls of his house, in the same way they reflect all the tears that escaped your eyes on the last days that you’ve been to his place.

His house feels haunted, by the thoughts of everything that you had to go through alone, and by the idea of him being father of a soul that briefly passed through this earth, but that he didn’t get the chance to meet.

His daughter, Hope. What a beautiful name you chose for her, Lewis couldn’t have chosen a better one. His mind rushes to put your features together, so he could maybe try and imagine what his princess would look like, if she has had a chance to breathe in the scent of all the flowers in this land and feel the rays of sunshine hitting her soft baby skin.

After the storm, lightning stops radiating through the skies, only reverberating inside of you, after taking your baby away from you. Every time it rains, you picture your baby’s cries, how you could nestle her on your chest, kiss her forehead softly and calm her down. And when the rain stops, the calm that remains is more of a void than a relief. 

Three weeks have passed by since your baby girl’s heart stopped beating. Three weeks of immeasurable pain, missing her, her touches, her company so, so much. Right now, you have nothing to hold on to. So you just force yourself to stay until late at your office, glued to your laptop screen, filling all your hours with work, so you can forget about everything else, so your mind doesn’t have enough time to think about anything else. 

Everyone else around you would say that you have been acting like a robot, lately. Living on autopilot, burying yourself in work duties, getting little sleep, eating late at night inside of your car - in the rare moments that you remember that you need to eat.

It’s not as if you don’t want to eat nor rest. That just doesn’t seem to be a crucial part of what surviving means to you, lately. Life took away from you the most beautiful things you once had. Your relationship, that used to feel like a dream. Your baby, that came to you to save you, to be in your arms and glue all your broken pieces together. Now, you are left with nothing.

The only reason why you keep pushing through the days, is because you need to. In your mind, you are the common factor to both losses you suffered in the past months, so maybe you are the problem. Maybe you aren’t good enough to keep anyone by your side for long enough. 

Maybe you did something so wrong that Lewis just grew tired of you, wanting a break from you and everything you represented in his life. And maybe that’s why your baby couldn’t stick around until her time came to meet this world, to meet you: her mother, who carried her alone until her last breath. 

Not a day goes by where your eyes won’t shed some silent tears, but ever since you lost the light of your life, you feel so lifeless, that it’s like you can’t even feel a thing inside of you anymore, just letting the tears fall free while barely feeling them on your skin.

You feel like your baby can be watching you from above, like the little angel she is. Maybe that’s why you haven’t given up on life yet. Hope can definitely see how bereft you are, noticing that you haven’t been doing too well. This is not the mummy she knew and loved. The mummy she met was healing, thanks to her. It had a lighter heart to her, and was on the way to find the peace of mind that she so desperately deserved and wanted. Mummy smiled more, especially when Hope would stretch her tiny hand to talk to mummy. 

But that’s not who you are, anymore. Once again, you are left with desperation, with your broken, empty heart to hold, to try and mend. But you’re not mending it anymore. You just keep living because you deserve to suffer, you deserve to take all the punishments from not being able to save your daughter, to be there for her when she needed you the most. Your body failed her, and that’s why she’s no longer here.

If you are telling the truth, you hate that you are here again: in this dark place, in the middle of a void that doesn’t allow you to breathe, living through the struggle of just wanting to cave, never wanting to fight, dying inside. Of being lonely all the time. You should say sorry to the friends you’ve lost due to your isolation, to your family, from pushing them away most of the time. 

You regret a lot of things and you owe a lot of apologies to a lot of people, but mostly: you are sorry to yourself. This was never your intention, this isn’t how you wished your life would go. And you could promise you will get help and actively start trying to live. But that would be an empty promise. And you just truly are sorry that you lost yourself for good, this time. You wish you could fall into a deep sleep, begging for someone only to wake you up once all of this is over and the old you has reappeared. But for your old version to show up, you needed to have your baby girl in your arms. There’s no way you can be yourself without Hope close to you. 

You need time, of course you do. But that won’t bring you back. With time, the rivers and the hills will come closer. And with time, the thing that will start eating out of your hand and nest in your bed, is just one: silence.

In the afternoon, Lewis feels the anxiety running through his body as he gets ready to hop in the car with your brother, Simon - another person he hasn’t seen since you two had broken up.

The car ride is filled with an uncomfortable silence between the two men, neither of them speaking much besides the time when your brother told Lewis how you decided to move to this small town, around thirty minutes away from your parents house. 

Apart from that, they don’t really quite know what to say to the other. Your ex-boyfriend notices how Simon is also dressed in black, just like your mum was, and he looks down at himself, noticing how he unconsciously chose a pair of black jeans and a dark grey sweater, feeling like he lost someone important to him as well, even if most people don’t think he has the right to feel this way.

Lewis can feel this tension growing in between them, feeling in his bones how your brother is resenting every single thing that your ex-boyfriend did to you, realizing how hard it must be for Simon to sit beside him again, especially while driving him to meet you. 

If he was being honest, your brother was against this idea of Lewis knowing where you live right now, of him going there to interrupt your moment, thinking he can even feel half of all the pain that you have been through lately, most of it being caused by him and his selfish, self-centered attitudes. 

Knowing you like the back of his hand, your brother is sure that you won’t enjoy Lewis’ visit. But maybe, just by looking deep into your eyes and seeing the way you will reject him, will make the man finally back down, giving up on bothering you even further, on finally leaving you to try and recover. 

When Simon finally stops the car, Lewis’ heart races in his chest, making him feel so small and insignificant when compared to the importance of this moment right here, right now. Leaving the car, he follows your brother, who walks inside a dark green gate, leading to a small garden in front of a house. 

Unlike every other day, today isn’t raining. The light grey clouds are still standing high in the sky, but there’s a glimpse of sun in the horizon, one that gently lights up the day. Lewis finds your silhouette, sitting on a bench, your eyes fixed on the timid sun rays that seem to entice your gaze. 

Your brother is the one taking the first step, walking to the front of you, so your eyes can meet the guy who never left your side through it all. You slowly get up, wrapping your arms around Simon’s body gently in a warm hug, the only source of comfort that you allow yourself to feel from time to time. 

Simon is looking back at Lewis, and you follow his eyes, turning around to feel your world squeezing your body, tightening around you to the point it hurts to breathe, with the unwanted presence of the man who threw the first rock that made your glass start to shatter, until it completely broke down. 

Lewis is completely silent and frozen in place, like his mind has forgotten all about words and movements. He can’t believe his eyes. The first sight of the love of his life, after five months of not seeing each other, is brutal. You are all dressed in black, looking thinner than the last time he saw you. Your hair is longer now, and you use it to cover most of your features, but the dark bags under your eyes are still evident. 

In a silent exchange of glances, neither of you dares to say a thing, until Lewis finally feels the strength in his legs to slowly walk over to you. His steps are heavy, contrasting with the way his knees feel like they could buckle at any second. And when he gets as close as he physically can to you, his eyes meet yours again. 

The eyes that once held all the hopes and dreams of a life by his side, that would shine in the moonlight, while lying next to him in between the sheets of his bed, the ones who used to mirror all the love stringing along both of your bodies. They are, now, as empty as a dark, abandoned street, whose most hidden corner can’t even be recognized at night. The eyes that he once knew how to read as if they were his favorite book, are now the ones who scare him, the void inside of your soul visible through the gate that your gaze allows. 

Lewis’ own eyes are flooded with tears now, not even caring about wiping away the tears that fall down his cheeks. His trembling hand is slowly reaching for your face, gently putting some strands of hair away from your features, so he can see you in your plenitude: the emotionless expression, the dark eyes that seem lifeless. When his fingers start caressing your cheek lovingly, his breathing gets caught in his throat, noticing how cold your body feels against his touch. 

- It’s me, Y/N… I’m here, love. I know it took me a long while, but I’m here now. - he cries, only to be met with silence from your side. 

You don’t mind replying to him, not feeling an ounce of any feeling or sensation through your body. You don’t hold any grudges, any remorse. You’re not angry nor sad at him anymore. To tell the truth, you don’t feel any kind of emotion towards Lewis anymore. The only feeling that you allow to inhibit inside of you, is the pain and guilt of losing your baby, of not being able to protect her, as you were supposed to. And that’s the only thing that makes you feel angry at yourself: the heaviest weight that you will carry forever on your shoulders. 

So you just stay silent, even if the man in front of you is begging you to say something. There’s nothing to say, there’s nothing to do after every event that took place in your life for the past five months. Instead of speaking, your eyes just try to look through him, inside the soul who you once thought to be yours, but that, in reality, it always belonged to the world, and never to only you.

Lewis’ eyes dart from your face to your belly, and his hand yearns to land a small touch on it, as if he will get to feel the heartbeat, the movements of his daughter that he didn’t get to meet while he could. However, the man prevents himself from doing it, trying for a second to imagine the indescribable amount of pain that gesture would bring you. 

Breaking down in front of you, the man crumbles, wrapping his arms around you tightly, bringing you close as his head rests on the crook of your neck, sobbing into your frame. This used to be his favorite place in the whole world: your neck, your chest, where he would search for your warmth, where he used to lay his head to drift off to the most peaceful of all sleeps when he desperately needed a rest, one that would allow him to switch off all the worries inside of his brain. That’s the power you used to have on him. 

And now, he can’t even feel the softness of your skin anymore, being met with the barrier of the black turtleneck you’re wearing, feeling like a wall made of stone, preventing him, and the rest of the world, from getting access to you again.

Underneath the fabric of your shirt, he knows what he would find: the sharpness of your bones, the coldness of your fragile body that has been through so much, instead of the enticing scent of yours, the collarbone lines that were once soft under his lips. 

Still, he holds you as close as he possibly can, almost trying to glue all your pieces back together, but he doesn’t feel your arms wrapping around his body at any moment. 

You are staying still, your arms on the sides of your body, limp, without a reaction. You don’t reciprocate his touch one bit, not feeling like you should try to console someone who simply decided to leave your life. But still, you allow him to find his home in you again, even if it’s just for a brief moment, while his face is ducked in the crook of your neck, hiding from his actions, from the world outside of this moment. 

Your eyes are staring at the emptiness of the air, noticing how numb you feel as you hear the man’s loud sobs and cries, feeling how his arms are desperately touching your figure, scared that you might run away again if he lets go of you, scared that he might drown in his sorrow if you don’t hold him up. But his pain doesn’t mean anything to you anymore. It’s not yours to deal with anymore. He wasn’t there for you when the most painful tears were staining your crimson cheeks, when your throat hurt from screaming so loud when you lost your baby, when you bled for days, only to deal with your destruction by yourself. 

And after giving him the bit of home that he can still find in yourself for a moment - even if you feel like you have nothing else inside of you to give, you finally take a step back, leaving his hold, his touch. 

Lewis is left clutching the air, his breathing ragged, a shocked expression on his face. Desperation fills the man’s body, destruction coming along with it because this wasn’t just a step back from his hold, and he knows it. He knows how badly he fucked up, he knows the pain he caused to your life. You’re no longer his, and he knows what that step back from him actually means: for as long as you’re breathing, you will never be his again. 

- I know you were going to tell me about the pregnancy, and we both know why you ended up not doing it. But baby, you should have come to me either way, after everything that happened. I should have been there for you, it was my responsibility to be there for you, my love. - Lewis’ face is stained with tears as he tries to reason with you, feeling a heartache so strong inside of him that could kill him right then and there. 

His voice is gentle, even if he’s hurt. Your presence is making him feel so guilty that he tries to use the loving pet names to make you soften up a bit more for him, reminding you of what you two once had, hoping it could help ease the heavy weight on his shoulders, alongside the agonizing pain in his chest.

But again, his tears and begs don’t make you feel anything. 

- It was my loss, so it is mine alone to deal with. - you say, your tone hoarse and cold. The first time he hears your voice again, after so long, without it being through your voicemail message. And your words sting, hard, in his heart.  - It wasn’t only your loss, Y/N… I was the father of that little girl. I had the right to know, to hear her heartbeat, to see the ultrasounds, to dream about a life with her in my arms, just like you did. - the salty tears don’t stop falling from Lewis’ eyes, feeling completely wrecked by the moment, by your harsh words. 

For a moment, you look down at your hands, fidgeting with your own fingers while biting your tongue, finding no point in arguing, in letting him know all the harm he caused you. He’s not stupid, he knows all about that. Your gaze travels through your ring finger, that still has the tan line of that damn promise ring he gave you, one that you wore for so many years - and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips, remembering all the empty promises he made, but never kept. 

- She stopped being your daughter the exact moment I went to your place to let you know I was expecting, only to find you lost in another woman’s arms. Mind you, not just any woman, but my childhood best friend. All of that because you needed time away from me, right? Because you needed a break. - your words are sharp as a knife, and you nod your head at his silence now. - Exactly, Lewis. You were never her father, you didn’t deserve to know anything about my daughter. And I’m devastated that I lost her, it’s a pain that will never stop haunting me, but if I’m being honest, I’m so glad I never had a baby with you. 

It’s like the entire world collapses around Lewis, his heart feeling like it’s being punched over and over again by you, collecting every consequence of his actions, drinking the tears that never stopped spilling from his eyes since the moment he saw you. 

Turning your back to him, you grab your coat from the bench. 

- Tell mom and dad I love them. - you ask your brother, hugging him one last time before entering your car. 

Lewis is left a sobbing mess, his body almost giving in as he is the one sitting on the bench now, hiding his face in his hands as he lets out all the sorrow spill from his body, through the endless tears escaping him. 

This is it, for him. It’s the end of a dream that he prayed so hard to get back, but that slipped through his fingers, on his own will - he destroyed his own world. And right now, it doesn’t matter how he might scream loud and feral, pouring out his rawest emotions, how badly he might sob, missing you to death. He doesn’t do it for you anymore. And even if, deep down, you still love him, it doesn’t really matter anymore, because the two of you will never be in the same room again.

Your name slips from his lips a countless amount of times, whispering it as if it could bring you back, asking God why?, only to be met with the silence surrounding him, matching how silent you went when he hugged you, not feeling magnetized to him anymore - that silence that could be heard from afar, sounding louder than all the heartbreaking screams you let out on the day you lost your little light. 

Now, the sun won’t shine as bright as it used to before, for him. The flowers won’t have such beautiful colors, the earth won’t move so graciously. If the power of the understanding between two souls doesn't change the world, definitely no part of the world is exactly the same after two souls understand each other. And how badly does he miss the times you would understand the other so easily, so effortlessly, firmly believing you were made for each other.

After this, nothing will be able to mend Lewis again. He is paying for everything he has done to the love of his life, and no trophy or podium could ever replace the dark void that lives in his heart, now. No sun can erase what has already collapsed inside of him.

Driving away, you let out the deepest breath, your hands tightening around the steering wheel until your knuckles are turning white. The rage inside of you right now is enough to start a storm, to make the most scary of all thunders to erupt through the skies, but looking at your passenger seat, you remind yourself that you have more important things to do, now. 

Today marks the third week that you’ve lost your baby. In the morning, you went to the florist, buying a bouquet of pink carnations - the lady letting you know that they represent a love, or someone, that will never be forgotten. 

And now, as the sun starts getting ready to set on the horizon, you drive to the river near your house, the safe place you used to go when your morning sickness would get the best of you, when you feel lonely most of times, having no one by your side and finding some comfort in the birds flying around you, in the flowers blooming alongside the way. It’s a newfound tradition that you make sure to do every week, on the exact same day, living through the days in autopilot, until the day arrives. 

Near the river, the wind is cold but soft, gently pushing the hair from your face, drying all the tears from your face. Sitting on a bench near the water, your shadow is hugged by a tall tree that protects you from the rain, in case it decides to fall. 

This is your place now, your refuge. Where you come to cry, to speak to your daughter, knowing that she loved the time you two have spent here. The hours pass by fast when you’re paying attention to the warm, gentle, bright colors that invade the sky as the sun sets in front of you, while noticing the movement of the tide, how the water reflects the nature embracing you. 

You could forget to eat, to sleep, or to do some house chore. But you could never, ever, forget about the date you lost your baby, never forgetting to stop by the lovely florist that already has a new bouquet ready for you every week, never not sitting by the river at the end of the day.

It seems like this safe spot hugs your heart, caresses your broken soul, speaks to you in ways no one ever did. It’s like your little Hope lives here now, waiting for her mummy to come see her as she asks the skies to prepare the most beautiful sunset for your eyes to see. 

And as you throw the flowers into the water, you carefully see the way the tide hugs the petals away from you, slowly taking them out of your sight, just like life has taken away your baby girl from your hold. 

It’s a silent moment that speaks for your heart. It’s a hurtful I miss you, and I’m sorry I failed to protect you, I will always love you more than life, that you can’t seem to say verbally, just letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you see the seagulls flying in direction to the horizon, towards the light, searching for it, in the exact same way that you try to search for yours: for a light, a signal, a reason to keep going - even if she lives in the sky, now. 

[puranami]

✿ Omelette ✿

A/N: A little fic based on one of the prompts I have~

Summary: Sanji finds you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour.

Content: Warning - my really bad attempt at writing anything outside of lil paragraph points (blz help, I have no idea what I'm doing)

Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs! A light dusting of pining, G/N reader. ✿

(Part 2) - (Part 3)

You had tried to sleep and ignore the rumbling in your stomach, but the harder you tried, the more you felt it, and you had finally reached your limit. If you were to be at all functional tomorrow, you needed to eat something. Only then could you try to sleep again.

Exhausted, you drag yourself from the safety and warmth of your blankets, slowly ambling towards the ship's kitchen, single-minded in your endeavour. All that mattered was appeasing your stomach, leaving you completely unaware of the sudden cold that embraced you once you had left the confines of your quarters.

Flicking on the kitchen light, you quickly gathered everything you needed, deciding that the best thing to make would be an omelette. It's an easy dish, filling, and doesn't take long to make. In other words; it was perfect!

You make quick work of prepping the eggs, seasoning to taste, even considering throwing a little cheese in there before deciding against it. It's not like you believed the myth of cheese giving people nightmares if eaten before bed, but you were so desperate to be able to sleep afterwards that you didn't want to risk it. Stranger things have happened on this ship.

The pan hisses as you pour in the eggs, sounding much louder in the empty kitchen, only amplified by the late hour.

"Don't you sass me," you grumble, "The middle of the night is a perfectly acceptable time for an omelette!"

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one awake on the ship, and your late night excursion had attracted attention, clearly not having noticed any of the noise you were making.

"I thought Luffy had snuck in on a midnight raid with all the clattering," a groggy voice behind you laughs, but you are too tired and focused on cooking to even register that you had been joined by anyone. Sanji leans against the table opposite the kitchen island, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt, waiting for an answer that never came.

Surely you heard him, right?

"Is everything alright, darling?"

Nothing.

Terms of endearment usually prompted some kind of response, be it a dismissive laugh or an equally fond term of your own, clearly thinking they meant nothing in particular. He'd accepted pretty quickly that they wouldn't be the way to win you over, but it certainly didn't stop him using them, at least on you. The same couldn't be said about everyone else, as he was no longer vying for the affection of anyone but yourself. Sanji wondered if you'd ever noticed that.

A clumsy flip of the omelette brought him back into the moment, honestly surprised that you hadn't dropped it on the floor.

He moved his way to your side of the kitchen, round the central island toward the stovetop.

"Why are you cooking at this hhhh-" he wheezed at the end, only now seeing that you weren't in the pyjama bottoms he'd assumed you'd be wearing, but in your underwear.

He clasped one of his hands over his mouth, the other grabbing the island for support as he felt his legs begin to fail him. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he blurts out, "W-WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?" as his face went fully crimson.

That finally gets your attention, but you are slow on the uptake, mind completely glazing over the fact that you had at some point gained an observer. Finally, furrowing your brows a little, you murmured a soft "What?" You knew a question was asked, but nothing else beyond that.

"Your pants, darling!" he gestures wildly, continuing to look down, knowing if that he caught sight of your bare legs again, he would lose his mind.

You stand there, pan hovering in the air away from the stove in one hand, a plate in the other, looking absolutely lost; you had completed your mission of acquiring omelette, and so your brain had decided it was no longer needed. Looking down, you see your legs and feet, wiggling your toes a little, then you look back up at the mess of a man in front of you, things finally starting to fall into place in your overtired mind.

"Oh, Sanji, what are you doing here," you ask, sweet as anything, completely ignorant to the battle he was waging internally. Once you plate your omelette, you place it on the island before putting the pan back on the stove to cool and grabbing a fork to tuck in, oblivious to Sanji frantically unbuttoning his night shirt beside you. He refuses to look directly at you until he has covered you with it, cheeks noticeably burning with how flustered he is.

"Darling, you can't do that to me," he says, almost breathless, "I am a weak, weak man; I can't handle seeing you so bare!" He manipulates your arms into the sleeves of his nightshirt, ignoring your protests when he briefly pulls the fork out of your hand in the process, before buttoning you up, doing his best to preserve your dignity.

As you feel the warm sustenance finally begin to settle in your empty stomach, you feel your brain booting back up, at least a little bit.

"Ah, shit I forgot to put on pants..." You giggle, wondering why everything was always funnier when you were tired. Taking another bite of food, you look down at your legs once again, starting to fully comprehend the situation you found yourself in. "I guess I was just too hungry." He can't help but sigh at how nonchalant you are.

Looking back up, your brain once again decides to abandon you, not from how tired you are this time, but from your eyes being met with his bare chest and abs, causing your own face to turn a charming shade of red. Sanji was always so neatly dressed, so he most you ever saw was his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves to work. It made sense that he was in good shape given his fighting ability, but it never really hit you until you saw his body tonight. There wasn't really any way to get accustomed to it, not like there was with someone like Zoro, who had his shirt off at least half the times you saw him, flashing his man tits whenever and wherever he damn well pleased.

Sanji's eyes never left you during this quiet minute, one that felt like hours, and he couldn't help but feel a hint of pride when he watched your eyes dance over his shirtless body, clearly flustered, bringing a confident smile to his face.

"Everything alright down there, sweetheart," he laughed softly.

You were clearly lost in your thoughts, it finally clicking why he was shirtless; he'd put his shirt on you. You brought a long sleeve up to your face as you dragged your eyes away, looking awkwardly to the side to your recently emptied plate. The shirt smelt like him, only without the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It was sweet and musky. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you felt a wave of feelings crash into you. Feelings you knew were there but had simply brushed aside, assuming they were just a result of his natural charm more than anything. But, you couldn't so easily disregard them now.

Sanji followed your gaze. "Ah, don't you worry about that, my dear," he says, grabbing the plate and bringing it to the sink, leaving you standing in a bit of a daze. "I'll take care of things here, so you go and get yourself back to bed, alright?"

"Oh, no!" You couldn't help how loud that ended up being, surprising the both of you. "You shouldn't have to clean up my mess," you say with a more regulated volume. If there's one way to get you back in the present, it's offering to do something you feel solely responsible for.

"In all fairness, darling, you shouldn't have been cooking in my kitchen in a state of undress," his cheeks started to go pink at the recent memory. He clears his throat before continuing, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" Ah, the professional chef just can't help himself when it comes to kitchen rules.

You pout slightly as you lean back against the centre island.

"Sorry, Sanji. I wasn't really with it. Too tired, too hungry..."

He makes quick work of the dirty items you had used, all while prattling on about safety and other things you probably should have listened to. Drying his hands, he makes his way back to you. It is evident you hadn't really been paying attention.

"At least promise me this," you look up at his warm, smiling face, "if you ever find yourself in this predicament again, please come and get me."

He brushes back some loose strands of hair, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

"You know that I'm always happy to cook for you, right? Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Returning a gentle smile of your own, you nod.

"I promise."

With that, Sanji leads you out of the kitchen, plunging it back into darkness as he flicks the light off.

You reach his quarters first since he's closest to the kitchen. He pauses outside his door, hesitating for a moment. There are so many things he wanted to say to you, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

Oblivious, you carry on toward your own room, turning back to him to wish him a good night, nearly falling over your own feet in the process, to which he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Bonne nuit, ma chère."

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals; I tried my best! This is my very first full fic ever, so if the grammar, wording, presentation, literally anything is bad; it's bc I am completely winging it! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[incomplete-leclerc]

　𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗞𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦.　franco colapinto · #43

　　　your boyfriend acts on impulse, leading him to get into fights, and you to worry about his safety.

genres : hurt/comfort ... established relationship ... franco x fem!reader.　 request : anon for franco + stitches on a cheekbone for the 100 event.　word count : 0.6k.　warnings : mild arguing ... mention of injuries (bruises, a cut, stitches) ... mention of franco punching someone ... profanity ... some spanish petnames (i do not speak spanish but i think they're all translated correctly).　 note : tell me why there were no good pics of franco so i had to find a random gif instead LIKE i swear finding pics takes longer than writing the actual fics sometimes.　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

“Franco? Where the fuck have you been?” you asked disgruntledly as the figure of your boyfriend stepped through the door. Wide eyes, clearly tired, but they softened at the sound of your voice, no matter how irritated your tone was. He dropped his tattered backpack on the floor and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t mean to leave you worried,” he whispered. You breathed, closing your eyes and reciprocating the hug. More than twenty-four hours with no word from him had you thinking of the worst possible scenarios to explain what had happened. Although you were still very much mad at him, you let him have the hug that you both needed in the moment. Breathing in his familiar scent, letting it calm your senses just slightly. He was safe, back in your arms. You could finally let your brain take a break from running in circles.

You felt him press a few kisses to your neck, soft and slow, travelling up to your cheek until you pulled away from the hug. 

“Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” you questioned, withdrawing to look at his face. 

“My phone died. And I got in a little fight— but, I’m really okay, Y/n. It was just a crazy night.”

Your face fell. “You’re so reckless all the time, amor. Don’t you ever stop to use your brain once?” 

You knew the words would do little to change anything. Franco was messy. Nothing could magically make him a clean person. Usually it didn’t bother you. It was something you loved about him. But when it got in the way of his safety, it scared you. Staring at the bruises starting to form on his left cheek, and the cut on his cheekbone closed up with a few stitches, you only wished he would listen to you for once. 

“How’d you start a fight this time?” you asked, leading Franco to sit down on the couch. Now that he was back home, it was time for you to take charge and take care of him. And if you were lucky, knock some sense into his brain. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to phrase what had happened in the mildest way possible.

“Well… we were all drunk, and some guys said some things about you, so I just punched them in the face so they would shut up,” he said simply, trying to stop himself from grinning. You stared at him in shock. 

“Franco—”

“Y/n, you can’t possibly have expected me to just let them talk shit about you? I don’t think I overreacted,” he defended. In his mind, a few bruises to his face was more than worth it to shut up a few assholes talking about his girlfriend. And seeing them run off with much worse injuries than him was satisfying. 

“You didn’t have to fight them over it. Now you’re hurt, and I was left worrying about you for hours. It was unnecessary and completely avoidable,” you pleaded, hoping that he would understand where you were coming from. A few tears building in your eyes stopped Franco from arguing over it more.

“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he whispered, cupping your face and silencing you of any other critical words. You knew it was time to drop the issue. You didn’t want to press him more after he apologized. “I won’t do it again,” he said, noticing the doubt in your eyes. It eased up, and you relaxed slightly. 

“Promise?” 

“Swear on my life,” he assured, sincerity swimming in his pearly eyes. You knew he meant it this time.

taglist: @caffeinboi

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [i]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Y/N struggles with unspoken feelings for Tara and is shut out when trying to help her after discovering possible abuse from her girlfriend.

word count: 1521

warnings: mentions of abuse, bruises, angst

a/n: hellooo, this is my first time writing in these type of situations (about abuse) so I apologize for any inaccuracy. I'm just kind of experimenting with this fic plus I'm not sure how many parts will it take to complete it. As always, any feedback is appreciated <3

part [ii] | part [iii] | part [iv] | part [v]

“Let’s go! One more lap!” Coach Melissa’s voice cut through the air, sharp and firm. The team pushed forward, legs aching with every step. Your legs felt like they were made of jelly. With each stride growing heavier than the last, you fought to keep them moving. The fatigue was relentless, creeping up like a shadow, threatening to overtake you. Your muscles screamed in protest, and the rhythmic pounding of your feet on the track seemed to get slower and slower.

The pressure was heavy on you. Being the captain of the Blackmore High soccer team means handling the heavy amount of responsibilities and standards to upkeep. You would be up for the state tournament for the finals in a week, and you were afraid that you were going to disappoint your team and coach, eager to win and experience the triumph of being the champions. It won’t be easy, especially when you’re up against your rival team, Woodsboro High. You have to—no, need to—win against them since it’s your last year in high school, especially when you harbor a deep loathing for their captain, Amber Freeman. Her name wasn’t new to you; she has been dating your friend, Tara.

Tara has been your friend since middle school. You guys were inseparable back then, sharing everything from food to secrets and dreams about the future. Even through all the awkward stages of adolescence, Tara was always by your side, offering a comforting presence when things felt uncertain. You’ll have to admit, you started having feelings for Tara a year ago, noticing her in a way you hadn’t before, captivated by her doe eyes and her personality. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to deny what was growing inside you. You imagined all sorts of scenarios in your head, rehearsing the words over and over, hoping one day you would find the courage to tell her.

But the day never came; your plans to confess your undying love to her were halted and shoved down the dumpster when you found out she started dating Amber six months ago. The universe must’ve hated you; finding out your best friend was in love with someone else the same day you wanted to confess felt like a punch in the gut, a cruel reminder that you had waited too long, that you had kept your feelings hidden for so long that someone else had stepped in.

You ignored and neglected your feelings, pushing them into the corner of your mind, hoping they’d disappear. You couldn't risk ruining your friendship with Tara, especially now. It hurt too much to see her with Amber, but the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward or lose her entirely. Recently, you’ve been noticing her pulling herself away from you. She wouldn’t answer your texts or calls or act like she didn’t see you in the hallways. But you would see her post on her social media, always being with Amber.

It hurt—a deep, sharp ache that seemed to pierce straight through your chest, leaving you breathless. It wasn’t just a passing pang; it was a constant, gnawing pain that lingered, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. Every time you saw Tara with Amber, laughing, holding hands, something inside you twisted painfully, as though a part of you was being slowly ripped away. It felt like your heart was caught in a vice, tightening with every smile Tara gave to Amber, every word she spoke about her. It was the kind of hurt that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, like you were suffocating under the weight of all the words you could never say. You’ve decided to shove your feelings down the drain and focus on getting your grades up before graduating and leading your team for your final year at Blackmore High.

You were walking with your friend Mindy, who was also on the soccer team, as the two of you made your way to class. The crisp morning air after the exhilarating and tiring practice made the walk a bit more refreshing, but the weight of everything going on in your mind made it hard to truly enjoy. Mindy, as always, was complaining about the harsh punishments he had to do by Coach Melissa, gaining a deep sense of hatred for your coach.

“She’s nuts, man!” Mindy ranted, venting her feelings about her absurd method of training. You smiled and nodded along, trying to keep your focus on his words, but your mind kept drifting back to Tara.

Mindy glanced over at you, noticing your silence. “Hey, what’s up? You’ve been kinda quiet today. Something on your mind?” She nudged you lightly with her elbow, clearly oblivious to the storm swirling inside you.

“Nothing, man. It’s just... Have you been noticing Tara has been acting distant lately? She hasn’t been to school regularly. Has she been talking to you or Chad?”

“Oh! That’s what I wanted to ask you about. I found her in the bathroom a few days ago. Tara said had some bruises around her arms. Tara was trying to cover it up and just shrugged it off, saying she fell down the stairs or something..”

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. Bruises? Tara? No. It couldn’t be. Tara was always so careful, so strong. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Or would she? You could feel a knot tighten in your stomach, and your mind began racing, replaying every interaction you’d had with her recently, trying to make sense of it.

“Tara would never...,” you muttered, almost to yourself, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered. "Are you sure? Maybe she just bumped into something." Mindy's face was serious now, her usual easygoing expression gone. "I don’t know, man. Chad said it didn’t look like something she could’ve just gotten from falling. And Tara’s been acting a little off lately, like, way more distant than usual."

Your stomach twisted further. Tara had been distant—now that you thought about it, she'd been a little quieter, more closed off, not the same carefree friend you’d known for so long. But bruises? It didn’t add up. “Maybe we should talk to her,” you suggested, your voice betraying the concern building inside. “I mean, if something’s going on... we need to be there for her.”

Mindy nodded slowly, looking just as worried. "Yeah. But if Tara's covering it up, you know she’s not gonna want to talk about it. She’s always been like that, right? Stubborn." The silence between you both grew thick, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. You both knew that if something was truly wrong, Tara wouldn’t come forward easily. It was hard to imagine her going through something like that alone, but it seemed like she was. And you, you didn’t know what to do.

One afternoon, you finally made up your mind and talked to her. You couldn’t just sit by and watch anymore. You found her standing by her locker, her head down as she fiddled with her phone, looking like she was on the verge of crying. You almost hesitated, but you knew you had to speak up. “Tara,” you said, your voice tentative as you approached.

She stiffened at the sound of your voice, quickly wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater before glancing up at you with a guarded expression, her posture immediately closing off. “What is it, Y/N?” Her tone was cool, but there was an edge to it, as if she was preparing for a confrontation.

You swallowed, trying to find the right words. “Tara, are you—” you hesitated, unsure what to say. “The bruises... Are you okay?” Tara's face hardened almost instantly. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to protect herself from more than just the physical cold. “I’m fine, okay?” she snapped, her voice sharp. “It’s nothing. Just..personal stuff.”

You took a careful step forward, trying to keep your tone gentle. “Tara, I— Is it Amber?”

“I said I’m fine!” She cut you off, her eyes flashing with frustration. “Why does it matter to you anyway?” Her defensive walls were up, and the more she spoke, the more distant she seemed. You froze, feeling the sting of her words. It wasn’t like Tara to shut people out like this. Your Tara.

“It matters because I care about you. I don’t care if we don’t talk anymore. I’m worried, Tara.” You said, your voice shaking. Tara’s eyes flashed. She didn’t want to hear it. 

“I don’t need anyone’s help; I’m fine.” Without another word, she turned and walked away. You stood there, watching her go, feeling the weight of her defensiveness hanging in the air. The look in her eyes said it all—she wasn’t ready to talk, and she wasn’t about to let anyone in. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just lost your chance to help her, and a part of you wondered if she’d ever let anyone close enough to see the truth.

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a/n: I hope this is up to standard lol, I won't be promising a next part. I'm not experienced enough to write these type of sensitive topics or just writing in general lol. i know the pacing is a little messed up hehe maybe I should disappear and never write again and delete this account idk

[k3n-dyll]

maybe because not everyone has to cater to black and brown readers? if i feel excluded then talk to ur black and brown writers bc why tf would (for ex.) white writers write black readers when…when they aren’t?? yall aren’t victims write ur own shit if u care so much like idk what to tell u but not everyone has to bow down and write the way you want them too.

The fact that this is what you got from me saying that POC feel excluded from fandom is...insane.

I hesitate to even answer this because you sound stupid as hell, but since I think other people need to get this shit through their skulls as well:

If you are a writer, and you claim to be writing an "x reader" fanfic for a character you like, the general consensus is that "reader" in this situation should be neutral for the most part. Sure, there's different versions of that ( "x fem reader", "x masc reader", etc.") , but generally, the idea is that "reader" in this situation could be anyone, yes? A lot of writers on this app and others, write "reader" as if tiny white women are the default.

And you know what?

If you wanna write that way, fine, but say that. If you so desprately want to write about Abby Anderson fucking a 5ft nothing white girl with blonde hair and green eyes - write that. But don't call that shit an "x reader" when you know its a self insert meant to exclude everybody that doesnt look like you. Dont claim to be a safe place for all readers if when POC say they feel excluded from the things you write, you say stupid shit like what this anon just did. If your shit is labeled "x reader" with no other warnings, one should be able to assume that they arent going to see any specifics about body type, hair textures, skin color or eye color - but no. Thats not the case.

I swear, every time we bring this shit up you bitches act like we killed your fucking grandma. If you dont wanna write in a way that everyone can consume, fine, but dont make it seem as if petite white girls are just the default human in every scenario. Theres a content warning over every fic, if you dont want to see how problematic it is to write as if whiteness is the default then the least you could do it leave a big fat warning in that little "CW" section to let us know that you didnt write this with the existence of people that dont look like you in mind.

Oh, and I do write my own stuff btw. Don't ever come in my inbox with this bullshit again. Pissing me off first thing in the morning😒

[scarletwinterxx]

cheeks are red like cherries in the spring - choi seungcheol imagine

hellllooooo yes back to back post😅 one thought, why is diet pepsi so cheol coded ??????? cherry???? cross gold chain???!?!?!?! LIKE OKAY MS ADDISON RAE THANK U FOR THE NEW CHEOL ANTHEM

and with that song in mind, here's a cheol scenario HAHA hope you like it!

if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Cheol, I swear to god get the fuck out of my shirt"

"Your shirt? This is my shirt"

The audacity of this man to argue back, you thought. Who knew a big buff man like Choi Seungcheol would be like a clingy koala, the answer would be you and only you. You're the only one who gets him like this.

Your fiancé knew exactly which buttons to push and when to push them. Like right now, you told him you were catching up on some work you missed while the two of you went on a quick weekend trip but ofcourse he would find a way to be involved somehow.

So here he is, half of his body inside your(his) shirt while you sit on his lap.

You're close to getting your work done but Cheol's being difficult, littering kisses and a few playful bites here and there on your chest.

"Cheolie, please give me five minutes to finish this then I'm all yours. If you don't stop, I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom"

You feel him move out of your shirt, now he's fully facing you. One brow raised and a sulky pout already placed on his lips "You're mean"

"5 minutes or no cuddles tonight"

He scowls before helping you off his lap so he can get off the seat. "I'm setting a timer, done or not I'm coming in here" And you believe him. He's petty like you, maybe because you're both Leos.

He kisses you on the cheek before walking away, closing the door behind him.

You finish the last three emails you had to send before doing a final run through. You look at the clock to see you're cutting it close. Testing to see if Cheol will really come in the room, you wait instead of going out to the living room.

When the clock turns, you hear the door swing open. Everything happening all too fast, Seungcheol already throwing you over his shoulder before you can protest. He walks to the other room where he throws you (gently) on the bed, hands on his hips as he watch you laugh

"You're so petty" you laugh

"And you're so pretty, you know just how to drive me mad huh" he tells you, climbing over the bed until he's on top of you. He slots himself between your legs, tangling them around his hips as he rests his body on you but not fully putting all of body weight on you

"You better not have left hickies on my neck again" you poke him on the cheek

"And if I did? It's not like somebody will come and check" he retorts, then leans down to start kissing your neck again as if to prove a point.

"Cheol, seriously. I can never wear low cut now" your words differ from your actions, tilting your head to the side to give him more room. He smirks against your skin, kissing the same spot over and over again.

He pauses to look at you, eyes looking back at him with so much love and lust it goes straight through him. "You know you have a few moles like from your neck down here" he trails his finger from your neck down the valley of your chest, leaving goosebumps on it's trail.

"Do I?"

"Mhm, and you know what they say about moles? They say that's where you were kissed the most in your past life"

You smile, already seeing where this conversation is going. "Jealous?" you tease him

"Pshhh me? Yes. Actually sometimes it pisses me off thinking someone loved you this much, someone who isn't me"

"But what if it was you?"

"Then good. It should be me. I can't even fathom any other guy loving you more than I do" he tells you, ever so sure and confident of his commitment to you.

"You're cute when you're jealous"

"I'm gonna kiss you here too, over and over again so when we're reborn you get all these moles again I'll be sure it would be because of me"

You stare up at your man, imagining a universe where you're not with him is simply impossible. Pulling him down to crash his lips against yours, he reciprocates the kiss with just as much passion. Like you're the air he's breathing.

When you pull away he speaks again, "I really hope it's me in every universe"

You smile at his words, giving him a more gentle kiss this time. The two of you share a smile and few more kisses before you tell him,

"Love me like this and I'll make sure of it"