#this took me forever to write with the tears in my eyes

[randomshyperson]

don't run away without me - wanda maximoff oneshots

summary: Wanda's neglect of everything around her, and constant abuse of the darkhold reaches a breaking point - you can't go on like this anymore. | warnings: mainly angst, hurt/comfort, they fight and actually resolve things through dialogue (crazy ik), mutual pining, fluff by the end (you may consider the canon of agatha all along for the "open" ending) | words: 2.588k

a/n-> A month ago i think @iguirisu request an angst one shot, and here it is, i randomly had inspiration for it today at work hope you like; I actually do miss writing about Wanda's depression state, or dark hold influence era.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The smell of coffee made you sigh and relax a little.

Natasha smiled affectionately - despite the obvious tiredness and sadness that your gaze hid, it was good to see you a little, even if minimally, more cheerful.

She took her place in the armchair, crossing her legs. In her hand, a hot cup of tea. You, on the other hand, left yours on the table, your fingers nervous.

"You took a while to visit, Y/N." Nat began, without waiting for you to make any excuse, she added; "I was hoping Wanda would come with you."

You look down, a sad laugh escaping you. "Yeah, I asked her to." You mumble, unable to hide your annoyance. “"Things have been... tricky. Ever since Westview. I thought we were doing well, as much as possible, but Wanda..." You sigh, forcing a smile at Nat. "She's been shouting me out."

Natasha takes a sip of her tea before commenting. "She knows none of us hold a grudge against Westview, right? Even though it's been, well, fucked up." 

You laugh weakly at the comment, nodding. You take a sip of your drink too, enjoying the the taste of it. 

Nat stretches out her legs and rests them on the coffee table. "Maybe I should visit." 

You shake your head. "Better not, Nat." You say, and this surprises the redhead a little. You sigh. "It's her magic. She's been restless, and Wanda, well, she gets really nervous sometimes. I tried to talk to her about contacting that witch we faced in Westview, you know? Agatha Harkness. But she won't give in. And that damn book too. I may not be a witch, but I can sense something's wrong." 

The redhead sighs. "Damn, Y/N, that sounds like... a lot." 

You smile weakly. "Yeah, I know. But thanks for having me here, Nat. I guess I needed to get out of that cabin for a bit, to clear my head." 

She shakes her head gently. "Please don't mention it. I think everything would be easier if we all still lived together in the compound. We'd end up making too much noise for Wanda to get stuck in books." Her joke makes you smile, a little nostalgic. Natasha looks at you curiously. "Are you sure you don't want me to visit? We can just, I don't know, talk. Spend some time together. I feel like I haven't seen you guys in... forever."

You smile sadly, looking away at the apartment. It’s exactly how you remember it, the same way Natasha welcomed you from Shield, a safe home for a defected black widow.

“It’s okay, this helps a lot.” You lean back against the couch, resting your back. “Can we talk about something else? Anything. Even if it’s a fantasy.”

She chuckled in confusion. "I don't understand, Y/N."

You sigh sadly. "I just miss you so much, Nat." 

She frowns, adjusting her posture to move closer, taking the seat next to you. "I'm right here, sweetheart." She says, reaching for your hand. You smile, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. 

You lean in to hug her, and for a moment, the feeling is just as you remembered. But it doesn't last long, and with a sigh, you wake up. 

The covers of your bed are tightly wrapped around you, but the cabin is cold and they do little to keep you warm. It's not just the weather, you know. Wanda is reading again, and the darkhold always makes sure that the cold feeling never goes away, even when you turn on the fireplace and sit on the rug in front of it.

You get up without rushing, there's nothing to rush about. You go to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth, but maintain a relaxed appearance of someone who just woke up, which in the past Wanda would comment on how charming you are - but now, she doesn't even look up from her book when you leave the room.

You're not surprised that there's no coffee; if you don't make it, Wanda will just go on without eating, for hours and hours until her body protests with exhaustion.

It's not healthy, you can insist. But she won't give more than a grumble in return.

This morning you prepare pancakes, and some coffee. There are freshly picked apples that manage to bring a small smile to your face. You think it will be like any other morning, quiet and lonely, but Wanda's physical form appears to sit at the table with you.

"Hi, Y/N." It's almost painful actually. The distance and indifference have grown to the point that greeting you in the morning is almost like talking to a stranger.

Your back tenses before you glance at her from the corner of your eye and murmur a good morning, your attention returning to the preparation of the coffee.

"You woke up late." Your hand hesitates in cracking the eggs, but only for half a second. Wanda sighs. "I thought you weren't going to do that anymore." 

You place the eggs on the tray, and move to find the flour. Your back is to Wanda. "I don't know what you're talking about." You mumble disinterestedly. 

She laughs, humorless. "Come on, you were the one giving speeches about how wrong and dangerous that was, and now you're doing it almost every night." 

You set the bowl down on the table with a little more force than necessary. "What is it now, Wanda?" You demand, irritated but more importantly, upset. Days goes by with Wanda not paying a single glance at you, and now she’s demanding answers. "Just say what you mean." 

She rolls her eyes, and you swallow hard. She can be so… mean. Like Wanda never was. But then again, ever since Westview, and especially since the Darkhold, you've been discovering sides of her that you've never seen. You tried to stay positive about it, because well, relationships are hard. But it was all extremely tiring.

"I just think it's a little funny, when I asked to talk to my boys, you said it was wrong. That I was abusing your power, that it was dangerous to mess with these things, that speech about natural law and the veil of the dead, or whatever nonsense you made up."

"I didn't make it up-"

She interrupts you: "But when it's about you visiting Natasha every night, then it's okay?"

You laugh humorlessly. "Because it's me! Because I hold the connection, because it's my power! I've explained to you this a hundred times, but you don't want to accept it." She huffs, standing up, ready to leave the room, the conversation, and that makes you laugh again. "Go ahead, just run away again." 

She looks at you with irritation: "Me? You're the one who's running away, Y/N! Every night to visit our dead friend!" 

You have to laugh because honestly this has to be a joke. Wanda swallows hard at the sound. "Wanda, you're not even here." You gesture to the other room where her astral projection is reading the darkhold, and she turns her face away, almost embarrassed. You run a hand over yours, sighing. Exhausted. "This is all bullshit. I don't even know what I'm doing here."

You explode. "She talks to me!" And this takes Wanda by surprise, she looks at you with a frown, and you hold back the tears that threaten to fall. "A change of scenery for a change. "

"I talk to you." 

She looks at you as if you've been slapped, in a way, you're almost happy to have some reaction.

"You said you didn't want to leave me alone."

You frown, and hold her gaze, even though you can't hold back the tears anymore. "And in return, you barely look at me."

"Y/N, that's not true. We were ready to have breakfast-" She tries to get closer, to touch you, but you pull away, laughing humorlessly, gesturing nervously to the kitchen.

"Breakfast? Wanda, none of this is real!" You scoff, gesturing around. "This farm, the food, even the fucking animals, you created everything with your magic. All of this is a lie."

"Don't say that."

But you get closer, breathless with emotion, your hands find her face, and Wanda resists the urge to lean into the touch, her gaze conflicted as if she were also resisting something else, something stronger and deeper.

"I'm real, Wanda. And I'm right here. Begging you to let me in." You confess, and some of her certainty breaks. "But you push me away. And ignore me for days, limiting me to a ghost of you." 

She touches your forearms. "I know you don't like it, but astral projection allows me to study without leaving you alone and-" She tries, but you shake your head, cutting her off. 

"Enough, I don't want to hear the same excuses all over again." You walk away, a sad smile on your face. "I think I should just go."

Wanda tries to contain her emotion, but she's crying the next minute. "If that's what you want, I won't stop you." 

You laugh sadly. "What I want. Funny." You retort, walking around her to pack, and Wanda swallows hard. It takes a moment, but she finally follows you to the room, where you search for the few belongings you brought, which weren't fabrications of chaos magic. She doesn't even realize she's forced back her astral projection until she sees the darhold floating alone, almost begging to be read again.

"So that 's it? Are you really just going to leave me alone?" 

You don't look at her. "Clearly that's what you want, Wanda. Enjoy your reading." 

But she stands in front of the door, blocking your way. You sigh impatiently, but she holds her position. "And what do you want?" 

You hesitate, and Wanda tilts her head, her eyes turning red. You snort in protest at the attempt of mind reading. "Unbelievable." You mumble in disappointment, but there's a bump when you try to cross because Wanda won't step aside. "Come on, you said you wouldn't stop me." 

"Why did you come with me in the first place?" She demands to know then, her gaze almost pleading, and that makes you hesitate, take a step back. 

"Wanda." 

"Tell me." She says, and you swallow hard, looking away at the floor. She laughs humorlessly. "Fine, and then you say I don't talk to you." 

She steps aside, turning her back to you to walk down the hallway again, and you sigh, thinking fuck it. Things can't get any worse than they are now. 

"I'm in love with you."

It's the first time you've said it out loud, admitted it to yourself, actually. Wanda frowns at you, and then laughs briefly and incredulously.

"Right." She mumbles, and you take a step toward her.

"I'm serious."

Wanda doesn't flinch. "Well, I don't believe you."

It's your turn to frown, confused and a little embarrassed, as you watch Wanda sigh and walk over to the couch, where she sits. You sigh too before entering the living room again, the bag of clothes loosely in your hand. "What are you talking about? What do you mean you don't believe? This is just a fact, not something to argue about."

But the redhead shakes her head. "That's ridiculous, Y/N. You're not in love with me." You open your mouth to protest, but she keeps talking. "First of all, you never said anything. You didn't even think." She looks at you with a certain certainty that makes you swallow hard. That nosy witch and that bad habit of looking into people's minds. "Second, you're.. off limits. You're Nat' s. You always have been and always will. I mean you visit her even after death now." 

You grimace, and then you finally understand what Wanda is really saying. "Wanda, I," You begin, dropping your backpack on one of the armchairs and approaching where she is, kneeling down to her level. "Natasha and I broke up during the blip. I told you that. We became friends, just friends, over time. I’ve been visiting her because I was feeling lonely, and I missed having a friend to talk to." Wanda looks away, and you try to follow her gaze, your hand reaching for hers in your lap. "And yes, about the first thing, you're right. I'd never thought about it. It took me a while to understand, to realize. I guess I was trying to protect myself." 

She looks at you with some uncertainty. "From me?" 

You laugh shortly, shaking your head immediately. "Oh, no, Wanda, not from you." You clarify quickly. "I was afraid of getting my heart broken, you know? You had someone. And well, Natasha was my first love. And it was mutual. I didn't know how to deal with rejection, with the possibility of well, of living through this right now. It's been hard, but I'll survive." 

But Wanda swallows hard, her cheeks gaining a new color. "But I... didn't reject you."

You laugh awkwardly. "It's okay, I don't need you to let me down slowly, the shock and silence are enough for me to get the message." You joke, but when you make a move to stand up, Wanda tightens her grip on your hand, keeping you in place.

"You just caught me by surprise." She murmurs and it's the only thing she says before advancing on you, a firm kiss on your lips. She barely lets you get used to the feeling - pulling away immediately, her brow furrowed in conflict. "Fuck, don't show me that."

"I didn't do anything-"

"It's not you!" She snaps, her eyes red. Wanda suddenly becomes agitated, standing up, her hands on her head for a moment. You worry, and when you try to touch her, she suddenly grabs you, her arms around you, her face hidden in your chest. She takes a deep breath, as if trying to wake herself up to this moment. "Please, don't leave me alone with it."

You understand, the book, which continues to vibrate in the next room, waiting, demanding a reader.

One of your hands goes to Wanda's head, and the other to her back, trying to calm her down.

"I'll stay with you, Wands." You say, swallowing hard afterwards. "But on one condition." She breaks the hug only to look at you. You sigh. "We'll ask for help."

"What? No-"

"I'm serious." You interrupt. "If not Agatha Harkness, it will be someone from Kamar Taj, like Doctor Strange. You need help, Wanda. You don't sleep, you barely eat. You're paranoid and restless. You're hurting yourself, and I'm not going to stand by and watch."

Wanda sighs tiredly, and buries her face in your chest again, nodding softly. Though the next moment, she mumbles, “Strange won’t help. Sorcerers don’t… help witches.”

You kiss the top of her head. “Agatha Harkness then.”

The redhead groans in protest. "I don't trust her." But you hug her a little tighter.

"I know, darling, me either." You whisper. "But who knows what Westview has in store for us?"

Wanda hides her warm face deeper inside the hug. "I like it when you call me that."

It's your turn to blush. "Lucky for you, I have an endless list of pet names for you, Miss Magic Fingers." She giggles, trying to tickle you so you'll let her go, but the break only makes you laugh and shower her face with kisses.

[angelqueef]

metal and pine, ch. 1 | knight!jason todd x princess!reader

a/n: my fault y’all i took a mini break, my motivation and creativity actually got clipped😭. this was intended to be a fluffy drabble but turned into a slow burn angst situation, which i said i’d never write but here we are. definitely turning this into a series!!

cw: medieval time period, inaccurate language used, toxic parental relationship, crying, slow burn, banter, angst, jason and reader in denial, jason being mean (what’s new), mutual pining (eventually), proofreading as we speak

you’re sitting on slate, soles pressing down firmly to keep you from falling. you’re used to this—the roof is your escape, your hiding place from all things royal.

you had gotten into yet another fight with your father about your betrothal. four years have past since you came of age and you rejected every prince and duke in the world that had come to pursue you, much to the king and court’s dismay.

“i don’t understand how i raised you to be so selfish! i give my life for you to have every luxury—and this is how you thank me? rejecting the last man who sailed the ocean for weeks at the prospect of seeing you?! your mother may have taught you differently, but know this. marriage is merely a transaction. i don’t care if you don’t love him. this is your duty and you must abide. if i’m not promised an heir in the coming seasons, your time here as princess, as my daughter, will end.”

his words stung your ears. were you really selfish for not wanting to marry a man who knew nothing of you? who didn’t even have the gall to try? many of your dates ended with slaps—angry reactions to ugly words—or kisses so soulless that your tongue felt heavy and numb in your mouth. fear made your blood run cold at the thought of being thrown out of a world you didn’t ask to be in, much less by your own father.

even in fear, you’re single, happily. and as much as the word love rings sweetly in your ears, freedom rings sweeter. you could never give yourself to a stranger, no matter how much security it would bring to you and your legacy.

still, you know your role in the kingdom more than anyone. you know the responsibility of mending tensions between your land and others falls on you. you know that you can’t roam your castle halls forever, not anymore.

you know that some nights you lay awake and stare at the empty pillow next to yours, imagining the mattress dipping with someone else’s weight, a lover’s arm heavy and warm on your torso.

your forehead is hot and pulsing against your arm as you fold into yourself, tears falling on your gown. you hear a cling of metal echo in the tower above you.

you lift your head to see your knight place his helmet on the floor and lean over the balcony, dagger and apple in hand.

he knows you’re there. that watchtower hasn’t been used in years, not since the great war from a decade earlier.

you look forward into the dense forest, annoyed that you’ve been caught. your sacred hiding spot has been exposed to the man that always seems to loom over you.

“sir jason,” you greet, voice thick with tears and sour with irritation.

“your highness. ever the keen eye.”

“how did you find me this time?”

“you’re not a quiet crier.”

you scoff. if jason was anything, he was honest. blunt.

“you’re not a quiet knight.”

“touché,” he smiles a crooked smile, cutting a piece of apple clean with his dagger and thumbing it into his mouth. he chews. “you go to war with the king again?”

“wouldn’t you like to know?”

“no, not really.”

“then why are you here?”

it’s always like this with him. he lingers. no matter what, no matter where you are, he’s there. even when he leaves you be, his earthy scent wafts under your nose. he bothers you.

his blue eyes seem to glow in the dark as they meet yours, “just doin’ my job.”

you hold his gaze, “well, i’m fine. you can leave now.”

“don’t sound fine.”

you groan as hands drag down your wet face. isn’t he your servant? can’t he get in trouble for this?

“you’re pestering me. it’s nearly three past. go to sleep, that’s an order.”

“not tired,” god, he has a retort for everything. you watch as he hops up on the ledge, his dense form squatting like the gargoyles that line the castle walls. the sight almost makes you laugh. he climbs down the stone bricks and sits next to you, armor clinging quietly like morning bells.

he cuts another apple slice and places it in your hand, folding your fingers over the fruit like it’s meant to be secret. his thumb stays pressed on your fingers longer than it should. you twitch.

you’ve become more and more aware of his lasting touches: a weighted hand on your shoulder, a knee knocking yours, fingers caging your waist and “stabilizing” you on your horse that you can ride perfectly fine on your own. you brush it all off. there’s no way he means anything by it.

“i have to get married soon.”

jason cocks his head towards you, “and that’s making you cry, because?”

“because—because what does it even mean? my mother always told me that i should love the person i marry, now my father’s telling me the opposite—that marriage is my duty and i have no choice in the matter. i only remember her in her unhappiness. maybe mother was trying to warn me. maybe that’s why she’s gone,” your voice breaks. you don’t mention the part where you’ll be banished by year’s end if you’re still unmarried. you can’t. it would make the threat too real.

he listens, studying you intently as you ramble. something tugs at his heart and he rids it as quickly as it comes.

teary eyes look at him and then look away, “i don’t even know why i’m telling you this. you never help.”

he shrugs, “sometimes love is learned.”

“always the contrarian.”

he leans back on his palms, “i’m serious. you may not love the person you marry, but you could learn to.”

“that doesn’t sound ideal.”

“oh well,” he huffs, “you can’t say i didn’t try.”

a soft giggle rips from you, you turn to him once more. you take a chance probe him.

“have you ever been in love, jason?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

jason’s breath hitches, you don’t catch it. he doesn’t either. he swallows.

“no.”

you watch his jaw clench and unclench as he makes jagged stabs in the crisp flesh of the apple. he seems to be hiding something. you’ll play along.

“me neither. maybe we’re misunderstanding the word. how can we speak on something we haven’t felt?”

“you have a point there,” jason’s tone shifts, laced with hushed frustration. he looks at you. he’s staring, trying to understand why you’ve suddenly made him so upset.

you’re the woman he’s supposed to protect. his job. sure, you’re more than acquaintances, but he knows his rank. and what’s more is he knows where you’ll end up: in an embellished carriage with some pretty duke, riding to a new, bigger palace where you’ll be fat and happy. a life you deserve.

so why is his heart sinking so fast and far down his body?

the air is thicker than wool, and your eyes are still locked on his.

“be honest with me.”

“i always am, your highness.”

“it’s me isn’t it? i’m the reason why i’m not in love. why i’m so lonely.”

jason blinks. to hear you talk about yourself like this, it enrages him—and he’s confused now more than ever. he never gets offended when you make fun of his hair, he doesn’t care when you trip him and make him fall in the fountain, he barely cares when you ramble about how much you hate your hair when it’s wind blown.

but with this, he wants to yell at you, correct you, tell you something, anything. but he doesn’t know what he could say, what would make it better. so for the first time in his life, he lies to you.

“yes.”

“excuse me?” you’re appalled—not the answer you expected at all.

his next words whip in front of you like a shield, “you’re annoying. you always think you’re right. you never let people in. even in your rank, you complain about everything. you do nothing to change this life you claim to hate.”

he doesn’t know why he’s saying all this— why he’s hurting you. he knows how complicated your life cane be. but it’s curbing whatever storm has started to brew in his chest, he keeps going.

“you’re stubborn. i always have to run after you when you sneak out. i always have to make sure you don’t die. do you know how tiring that is?”

you barely wait for him to finish.

“leave.”

“what? but you said-,”

“leave.”

you don’t dare look at him. the one person who you thought would be on your side—a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on—had just insulted in the greatest possible way. you feel more abandoned and alone than ever. he validated every fear, every blame you put on yourself.

you’re not sure why it means so much, men have called you worse. your own father has called you worse. whatever your knight teases you with usually would roll off your shoulders. you’re a princess. a confident, unshakable one at that. but here you are, lips wobbling and salty water pricking your puffy eyes.

jason turns to you, heart thrumming in his chest, a hummingbird against a cage. his stomach turns with guilt at the sight of you.

“i’m s-,” his throat clears, he couldn’t make this better if he tried. “yes, your highness.”

he stands, bowing. you still don’t look at him.

when you do finally turn your head, you know your knight is gone. but half of you still expected him to be there. to hang around, like he always does. you sob, hugging yourself tighter than ever.

angry, you throw the apple that turned warm and sticky in your hand. and though your nose is stuffed full with mucus and tears, you still smell him.

metal and pine.

[targaryenluvs]

OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[demonpiratehuntress]

they make you cry

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - sometimes you just can't handle the things they say/do

warnings - angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

taglist - @kabloswrld

a/n - this took forever to write, and I'm sorry! had to fight my writer's block real hard to get this out ☠️ some of them seem rushed and im sorry about that too!

ZORO

Zoro could be mean, you knew this when you started dating him. He didn't mince his words, nor did he sugarcoat anything. Especially when he was angry, that's when he could be the cruelest. You just never expected to be on the receiving end of that cruelty.

You were just trying to help, honestly. You thought it might be a nice gesture if you wiped his swords clean for him while he napped, and you thought he'd appreciate it. But the moment you dropped them while putting them back and woke him up, it was like something had possessed him.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, sitting up and looking at you, his eyes hard.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to clean them for you," you tried explaining yourself, hoping he wouldn't be too angry. Hoping he would calm down and stop looking at you like that.

"Why would you think that?" He scoffed. "I clean them myself, there's no need for you to do it. There's no need for you touch them at all, actually."

"I'm sorry," you apologised again, shrinking away and feeling hurt by his tone already.

"Just don't do it again," he snapped, "You don't know anything about swords. It wouldn't be such a problem if you were more like me and less like you."

"Less like me?" The tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, just go away and let me nap."

And go away you did. You left his room with your eyes almost overflowing, hand covering your mouth to stifle the sob that was about to come out. You didn't understand what brought that on, why he had been so mean to you.

"(Name), wait-"

You ran off the moment his door opened again, trying to put as much distance between him and yourself as possible. You were hurt, so incredibly hurt, that you barely made it to your room before you broke down in tears, burying your face in your hands. You tried to calm down, you did, but his unprovoked verbal attack struck you right where it hurt the most, your heart. You didn't understand what he meant by "less like you", and you didn't think you wanted to. It was insult enough already.

A knock on your door startled you, and you quickly wiped your face to try and get rid of the tears but your eyes were still red and puffy. Which was immediately noticed by the swordsman when you opened the door, and he frowned.

"Were you crying?"

"What do you want?" You asked him, sniffing. "Did you come to insult me more? Maybe tell me again to stay away from your precious swords? Save it."

"I'm sorry," he interjected, taking you by surprise. He shifted nervously, not really knowing how to apologise but wanting to try because you meant more to him than he could ever say and he hated that he'd hurt you.

"Is that it?" You scoffed, about to close the door.

"No, no wait!" He stopped you, swallowing thickly and looking at the floor. "You know I'm not good with apologies. But I mean it when I say I'm sorry for what I said. You were just trying to do something nice for me and I snapped at you because I was in a mood. The stupid cook annoyed me earlier and I...didn't mean to take it out on you."

You crossed your arms, trying to look mad but you only looked sad and it tugged at Zoro's heartstrings, "Okay."

His expression softened, and when you allowed him he pulled you into his arms and hugged you, trying to show how sorry he was through his actions since he couldn't say it. He rubbed your back soothingly, pressing a gentle and apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

"But if you speak to me like that again, I'm throwing your swords into the ocean."

He chuckled, "Deal."

He spent the next few days making it up to you in various ways, either buying you a special gift from any island you stopped by, or hugging/cuddling you a little longer than usual, or teaching you some moves with his swords to prove he trusted you with them. Eventually, when his overbearing affection started worrying the crew, you had to forgive him.

ACE

The crew was celebrating a big win. Stopping by a nearby island, majority of the crewmembers could be found in bars and taverns, drinking their weight in alcohol. You were amongst them, not drinking as much but joining the merriment regardless. You smiled at the antics of your crewmates, who were trying to drunkenly flirt with woman around the room.

Your smile vanished the moment your eyes settled on your boyfriend, who was busy entertaining a crowd of younger women with the tale of your victory.

Now normally that isn't a cause for upset with you, but he tended to get a little overfriendly and even though you've spoken to him about it many, many times, he hasn't made an effort to stop his flirting - even if he didn't see it as flirting, those women certainly did. And that was the problem, he always let them think that and allowed them to get handsy with him.

You rolled your eyes, downing your drink so you could get out of here. When you lowered your pint again, the sight of one of their hands on his arm made you sick. Usually you would get angry and storm over there and break up the party, but today the sight brought tears to your eyes. It hurt you that he always did this, even when you'd asked him not to.

"(Name), where you going?" One of your crewmates asked you when they noticed you getting up. "It's still early!"

You forced a smile, trying to hide your glassy eyes, "I, uh-"

"(Name)!" Ace called you cheerfully, waving you over, "Come here!"

You frowned, then shook your head before turning and leaving the bar, letting the tears fall now that you were out of sight from the rest of the crew. Your vision blurred on the way back to the ship, but you somehow managed to get there without hurting yourself and broke down into quiet sobs as you sat on your bed and buried your face in your hands.

Sometimes it felt like you weren't enough for him, whether it was physically or emotionally. He could make you feel like the worst lover sometimes, like you couldn't give him what he wanted, even if he didn't mean to. You knew he had commitment issues, but you thought your relationship was getting more serious at this point.

"(Name)!" Ace burst into the room, looking worried. "Hey, why did you leave?"

You didn't answer, turning away from him and curling up into a foetal position facing the wall your bed was placed against. You couldn't look at him right now, not when the tears wouldn't stop.

"Baby?" He called again, the bed dipping beside you to indicate that he had sat down. "I know you're not asleep."

He reached out and gently touched your shoulder, urging you to turn around and face him. You sighed and shifted around, looking at him with a tear-stained face. His eyes instantly went wide and he flew into a panic.

"What happened? Did someone do something to you?"

"Ugh, stop it," you groaned, sitting up. "Don't pretend to care about me when you constantly do what I tell you hurts my feelings." Just mentioning it again brought the tears back, and you cursed.

He frowned when you said this, "But I wasn't flirting with them."

You gave him an exasperated look, "Do you ever realise that they consider it flirting? That they try to seduce you with all their little touches and stupid flirty smiles? No, you don't." You hastily wiped your eyes, now getting angry.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, Ace. You do this all the time. And it really, really hurts."

His expression softened, and he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap with ease. No matter how mad you were at him, your body never fought his touch or embrace.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into your hair. "I didn't realise they were trying to do that. I was so caught up in telling the story, especially the part where you took out all of those pirates, that I didn't see they weren't really interested. I'm sorry I'm so stupid."

The sincerity in his voice eased your mood, and you slowly stopped crying and pulled away to look at him, "Next time just ask me to come sit with you."

"I'll do better than that baby, I'll put you on my lap."

"You know that doesn't end well."

"On the contrary-"

You sighed and shook your head, unable to help the smile that formed on your lips. He really was an idiot, but he was your idiot and even if he did stupid things a lot of the time, you loved him very much.

KAKU

You and Kaku hardly ever fought, because he was a very patient and very reasonable man. He never gave you any reason to be upset with him, because while he was a ruthless assassin, to you he was an absolute sweetheart. The only problem was that he sometimes left for long missions, and you were left worrying about him at home and not knowing what was going on because he was deep undercover that he couldn't even contact you.

Like now, where he was working undercover as a foreman in Water 7. You had asked him once again if you could come with, seeing as neither of you knew how long he'd be away this time. But he refused, gently reminding you that he didn't want to put you in any danger and that your house - so far off the grid absolutely no one knew about it - was the safest place for you. You had no other option but to agree.

After many, many months spent worrying about him and struggling to sleep not knowing what's going on, your boyfriend stumbled in through the front door one night absolutely destroyed. You'd come down with one of his swords in hand - one that he kept around the house for you - only to stop dead at the sight of Kaku standing there. Actually, standing was generous. He was barely keeping himself off the ground, tall frame hunched over and trembling.

"Oh my god, Kaku!" You dropped the blade and rushed to his side, laying one of his arms around your shoulders so you could at least help him to the couch. "What the hell happened?"

"It's a long story," he groaned, laying his head over the back of the couch and closing his eyes. "Short version - the Straw Hats."

You frowned at his brief response, going to fetch your first aid kit - you'd learned after the first few times he came home that you'd need one - and bringing it back to him.

"I think I deserve an explanation," you pressed, sitting beside him and starting to tend to his more obvious wounds. "You owe me that much."

"I don't want to talk about it," he grumbled. "I'm sorry."

You didn't respond, and he cracked an eye open to see why. When he noticed how your eyes had become glassy and your bottom lip was trembling but you were biting it hard to stop it, his expression softened.

"Oh, honey."

He gently took the first aid from you and set it aside before bringing you into his arms, wrapping them around you securely. He pressed gentle kisses to the top of your head, ignoring the pain as he held you against his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"This is the worst I've ever seen you," you managed to get out, your voice small and hurt. "I had no contact with you for the longest time since you started working for them, and then you come back looking like this..." You couldn't help it, the tears just kept falling no matter how hard you tried to stop them.

He held you tighter, then moved one hand up to wipe your tears away, "But I came back, didn't I? I'm here."

You knew he was trying to reassure you, but it was difficult to be reassured when he constantly did this to you. You looked at him sceptically.

"Why would I ever risk dying?" He questioned softly, cupping your cheek in his large hand. "I have you to come home to, I don't put myself in a situation I don't think I can come out of." He kissed the tip of your nose, to make you smile like it always did. "Besides, did you ever think that maybe I like having you play nurse for me?"

You managed a small smile, warmed by his words, "Oh you do, huh?"

"Mhm."

"I guess I can forgive you. On one condition."

"Anything, honey."

"I'm coming with you on your next assignment."

"...I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope."

He sighed, but planted a loving kiss on your forehead, "If it will ease your mind, then okay. But you have to let me make sure your cover is safe too."

"Deal."

LAW

Law was a very complicated man, with a lot of baggage and trauma he liked to keep away from everyone else. He was reclusive, and he never quite expressed his emotions as healthily as he should. Most days you did your best to understand, to step back and be the more rational one. But sometimes his actions don't make sense, and he ends up hurting you a lot more than he thinks - or notices.

Take the last few days, for example. You two had grown quite close over the course of your relationship and he was now quite comfortable with you and showing you affection - although still privately. But ever since you'd met the Straw Hat crew and he'd been introduced to their smartest member, Robin, he'd been a lot more distant and a lot less affectionate. Like he was beginning to forget you existed.

You started to feel insecure about not being as intelligent as her and not having anything in common with your boyfriend. You'd never liked books, they paled in comparison to the adventures you embarked on on a daily basis. But now it had come back to haunt you, and in the worst way possible.

"Law, do you want to-"

"Not now, (Name)-ya," he didn't even look up from his work. "I'm just finishing some notes on something that Robin asked for."

"Oh, okay. Let me know when you're-"

"I will be heading to their ship shortly, she has a collection of books I would like to study."

"...Right. Okay."

You blinked back tears, knowing he would just get irritated with your emotional display. Turning away from him, you left the room to go get some air and maybe feel sorry for yourself. It did hurt, him immediately dismissing you for another woman, even if it wasn't romantic. He was spending less time with you, and more time with her.

"(Name)!"

Your face lit up, thinking Law had finally come to his senses. But when you turned around, you saw him making his way to the Thousand Sunny while Bepo was the one who had called out to you. And then you couldn't hold it back anymore; you burst into tears.

You usually didn't cry like this. You were good at keeping your emotions in check. It was a side-effect of being around the stoic captain so much - you'd learned how to control your own emotions. But right now, it was too much to bear and your insecurities and fears came crashing down around you, drowning you in sorrow.

"What's wrong??" Bepo asked worriedly, immediately pulling you into a hug. "Did something happen?"

"No," you hiccupped, "I mean, yes, but it doesn't matter."

Your eyes drifted to the deck of the Sunny, where Law was engaged in what looked like a meaningful conversation with the female devil fruit user. Sighing, you tried your best to wipe your eyes and gently pushed Bepo away.

"I'm okay, I just...I need to be alone."

As you walked off, Bepo followed your gaze and spotted the issue. He frowned, having also noticed that his captain had recently been preferring Robin's company over his own girlfriend.

"Captain!" The bear called, rushing over to Law and Robin.

"Not now, Bepo," Law dismissed him, returning his attention to the raven-haired woman.

"But something is wrong with (Name)!" Bepo protested, whoch was a half-lie, half-truth. There was something wrong, but it wasn't with you. He just knew Law wouldn't follow him back otherwise.

"What?" Law instantly felt worry start to fill him. "Where is she?"

"I don't know, I saw her just now, crying, and then she ran off."

Law frowned. He didn't like it when you cried. Not because it was irritating, but because he always got this weird, ugly feeling when you did. You should never have to cry, you should never have to feel pain. Instantly, he goes back to the Polar Tang but not to look for you. He just simply uses his devil fruit to get you back into his room, and when he does he feels guilty by the sight.

Your eyes are red and puffy and you're sniffing like you're sick, but you're not sick. You're avoiding his gaze and casting your eyes downward to the floor, unable to look at him. And you're hugging yourself.

"(Name)-ya," he calls, hoping to get you to look at him.

"I thought you were with Robin," you tell him quietly, the hurt evident in your small, vulnerable voice.

He frowns, "I was, but-"

"Then we don't need to talk about anything," you cut him off. "I'm fine, go bacl to your conversation." You can't help being a bit snippy, tired of crying and even more so of being sad.

"You have been crying," he argued, "That is my concern."

"Oh really?" You suddenly glared at him. "I didn't think you'd notice. But you didn't, did you? Bepo had to tell you, because you were so engrossed in your new girlfriend!" You scoffed, rubbing your face and getting up. "Leave me alone."

"No," Law blocked your path out of the room. "I want to talk about this. And...I want to apologise for hurting you." He paused awkwardly, never good with apologies. "I didn't mean to spend so much time with her and neglect you, I promise. I just kept losing track of time, and I got a little bit eager that someone else was interested in some of the same things I am."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled, "I'm sorry I'm not that person. I'm sorry I'm not your ideal girlfriend." The tears started falling again, and the ache returned to Law's chest.

"That's not what I meant," he moved closer, "You are perfect just the way you are. I don't want you to be like me, I don't think I could date someone like me. I often wonder how you do it."

Your eyes widen at the vulnerable revelation, and that leads you to start listening to his sincere words and slowly calm down.

"If I neglect you like that again, please just tell me," he pleaded, taking your hands in his. "Don't suffer in silence, I don't like seeing how it's affected you. And I don't like being the reason you cry. So please, just talk to me when I hurt you. Pull me away from any conversation, throw my books, whatever. Just make sure I listen."

"Okay," you slowly smiled, nodding. "But you can't yell at me if I do."

He sighed, but felt relieved that he was forgiven, "I won't."

"Great. Now you owe me a lot of cuddles and even more kisses," you pout. "And double the amount of hugs."

"Done, done and done," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you sweetly and gently.

LUFFY

If Luffy hasn't upset you in some way, you'd be suspicious. His carefree nature was bound to anger or frustrate you in some way or the other, and his tendency to overexert himself in fights often ended with you concerned for his health in general. He's never made you cry, because if there's one thing Luffy can do well it's keep his promises.

Until he meets Boa Hancock.

And you get it. She's gorgeous, she's powerful, she's a queen. She's everything a woman should be, and you can't help but feel envious of the attention she gets from men. Luffy doesn't really care for her looks, which is a little comforting, however she found the way to his heart and every time you guys met her on the ocean she had the nerve to throw him a huge feast. And your beloved, naive boyfriend always thought she was just being nice and gorged himself on her food, missing the way she looked at him longingly and not understanding her flirtatious advances.

But you understood them very well.

But as mentioned before, she's a powerful person. Not just because she's a devil fruit user, but also because she's a Warlord. You knew you couldn't piss her off in any way, for the safety of the crew, but she had no such qualms. It seemed she knew that you hated how much she attended to Luffy, she knew how much you hated her advances and how Luffy always ate whatever she offered. And she abused her title, doing it on purpose because she knew there was nothing you could do.

Most of the time it was just frustrating beyond comparison. But slowly it ate away at you, and one particular meeting had you excusing yourself in an attempt to escape what seemed like a suffocating situation.

Boa was once again on your ship - it seemed like she purposely sought it out just to see your boyfriend, and she probably did. Luffy was enjoying yet another one of her feasts, and she was sat right beside him. Touching his arm and saying sweet things to him like he didn't already have a girlfriend. Batting her eyelashes at him and offering him sweet smiles that would knock the socks off any man other than Luffy. Once again, he didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable it made you, and you felt your eyes brim with tears.

Maybe he did notice and just didn't mind. Maybe he did notice and actually enjoyed her attention like everyone else did. Maybe you had him all wrong in this particular situation. He had spent a long time with her on her island, after all.

"Excuse me," you mumble to no one in particular, rising from your seat and swiftly exiting the room. It was like you couldn't breathe, your throat burning as the tears started falling faster and faster, until you could barely see.

You were sure he hasn't even noticed you were gone. He probably hadn't even seen you leave. And that thought had you clinging to your pillow harder as you screamed into it, hot angry tears rolling down your cheeks in unstoppable waves. You were so hurt and upset that you didn't notice your room door swing open and a certain captain barge in.

"(Name)?" Luffy called, sounding confused. "Are you okay?"

You felt your body bounce a little as the overeager captain jumped onto your bed, but in your stubbornness you refused to look at him and turned away instead.

"Go away, Luffy."

Luffy was not used to hearing those words from you. Nor was he used to hearing the sadness in your voice, the way it cracked halfway, and the miserable sniff that came afterwards. He was not used to seeing you like this, so sad.

"What's wrong?" He tugged on your shoulder, trying to get you to turn back around to face him. "Are you sick? Is your stomach sore?"

"No, Luffy!" You sat up and yelled in exasperation. "I'm tired! I'm so, so tired okay!" You rubbed your face and curled up, thighs pressed tightly to your chest. "I'm tired of my boyfriend letting some other woman fawn over him with no boundaries. I'm tired of watching my boyfriend be sweet-talked and flirted with by some other woman. And I can't do anything, because she's a Warlord!"

Luffy's eyes went wide, and then he burst out laughing, "Are you worried about Hammock?" The incorrect name almost had you smiling, but you managed to keep your face stoic. "(Name), I only want you. You know that right?"

"Yes," you sighed, "And I trust you, Luffy. It's just...you never stop her and sometimes it makes me feel like I'm not enough. Like she does more for you than I ever could." Your gaze fell. "Sometimes I think you actually like her."

Suddenly his arms were around you and he was squeezing you in the tightest hug he'd ever given.

"I don't like anyone the way I like you, (Name)," he promised. "ANd I never will. You are the only person who makes me feel like this, and you do enough for me already. You cook for me! I bet Hammock doesn't even make the food herself. If it came to choosing you or her, it would always be you."

Your cheeks burned when he said that, and slowly a smile formed on your lips, "That's really sweet, Luffy. Thank you. I needed to hear that."

He nuzzled his face against yours affectionately, "I will remind you as many times as you want!"

SANJI

Sanji's most annoying habit tended to irritate you majority of the time, and every instance ended with you practically fuming and storming off after telling him off angrily. He would normally appease you with something sweet, or your favourite dish. In some extreme cases, both. But you never stayed mad at him, because he made it impossible for you to do so. You just never expected that one day the hurt would become too much for you to handle, and you'd react with sadness rather than fury.

The crew had been given the day off to explore another island. Everyone had split to do their own things, but the cook insisted on accompanying you because it was one of the rare times he got to spend alone with you for an entire day. So the two of you strolled through the vibrant town, enjoying the atmosphere and each other's presence.

That is, until Sanji forgot about your warning to not flirt with anyone on this island. He deemed it just being a gentleman, but you knew better than that.

When you caught him staring as your words faltered, you expected the usual bout of anger to flare within you. You were ready to tell him off again, a dozen insults coming to mind for that woman, when you felt a sharp pang in your chest instead. Your words caught in your throat, and a sorrow like nothing you'd ever experienced filled you.

Had he been staring the entire time you were talking to him? To make matters worse, he seemed to forget you were speaking and drifted over to the lady to compliment her dress.

You felt humiliated. No one here actually knew you two, but it was embarrassing that you couldn't even keep your lover's attention on you. Your cheeks burned, your throat along with them, and your eyes brimmed with tears. It was made worse when you glanced around at all the other couples, and found them happily clinging to each other and acting like they were the only two people in the world.

"What do you think, ma chérié?" Sanji's voice suddenly filled your ears. "Do you like it?"

You hastily wiped your eyes, trying to look like you did before, "Um, like what? Sorry, I wasn't listening..."

He didn't seem to notice the sadness in your tone or the forlorn expression on your face, he just barrelled on, "This pretty young woman's dress, what do you think of it?"

"A-are you serious?" You choked out, feeling the burning in your throat get worse.

"Yes! Doesn't it look nice?"

You couldn't take it anymore. You were hyperventilating at this point. Scared of being embarrassed further with your impending sobbing, you turned and sprinted as fast as you could away from the scene. He called after you, but you weren't listening.

He arrived at the ship at the same time you did, leaving you confused. You were about to push past him when he grabbed your waist, stopping you.

"Wait, my love, I'm sorry," he apologised, "Don't cry, please."

You smacked his hand away from your face, "No, don't. If you were really sorry, you'd stop flirting with every woman you see like I told you to! But no, you keep doing it." Your eyes watered again. "Do you have any idea what it's like? Seeing your own lover interested in someone else, not even listening to you?"

Sanji was speechless. He had no idea it affectef you this much, but he blamed himself for going on with it even when you told him not to.

"How would you feel if I flirted with every guy I saw?" You demanded.

"Oh no, please don't," he begged, heart sinking at the thought.

"But it's okay for you to do it?" You looked away, and his heart broke.

"I'm sorry," he apologised again, "I am, really. But I wasn't flirting with her, I promise! I was just asking where she got that dress because it looked so nice and I thought it would look good on you..."

Your eyes widened when you heard this, "Wait, what? Is that why you asked if I liked it?"

"Mhm," he smiled, "I wanted to get it for you if you did."

You were the speechless one now. All that time he had been thinking of you, and you'd gone and assumed the worst. Now you felt even more embarrassed, but for a totally different reason.

"Sanji, I-"

"No need to apologise, love," he immediately hugged you when it seemed like it was okay for him to. "I haven't exactly given you reasons to trust me not to flirt. But I promise, I am doing my best to not do it. I don't want to lose you."

He really was too cute to stay mad at, or even to stay sad about, and you ended up smiling and leaning in to kiss him.

"Fine, but do it again and I'm going to leave you for Zoro."

His face paled, "No no, ma chérie, you can't be serious! Love, wait! Are you serious??" And he followed you to your room, begging you to tell him you were lying.

USOPP

You were well aware that Usopp had had a romantic interest in a girl long before he met you. He would never tell you about her, but Nami and Luffy told you about her and what they knew about her relationship with Usopp. As far as you could tell, they had never done anything more than kiss once.

You felt like you were getting in the way of their relationship, and most days that thought just put you into an emotionless daze. You felt like you couldn't compare, because she seemed to be his first love. And as bad as this sounds, you started to feel like you were a relationship of convenience to him. Someone to keep him company while he longed for another.

"You know that's not true," Nami would reassure you when you confided in her. "He's not like that. He really loves you."

"I can tell he thinks about her sometimes," you argue, "And we don't know whether or not he imagines her in my place when we kiss or do anything remotely romantic. Who's to say he wouldn't go back to her if we somehow made it back to the East Blue?"

Nami couldn't give you the answer to that, and it hurt all the more. You tried not to let it get to you, you really did, but some days were worse than others. Some days you felt inferior, like you were not as pretty as she was, even though you'd never seen her. If he was so crazy about her to still be thinking about her months after he'd met you, he surely still loved her, right?

"Usopp, I have a question," Nami asked the sharpshooter one day.

"Uhhhh, no I did not borrow any money from you..." He replied nervously, eyes darting around the room.

The navigator's eyes narrowed, "We'll get to that later. Anyway, if we went back to the East Blue, what would you do? Would you want to rekindle your relationship with Kaya?"

Usopp's face paled, "What kind of question is that?!"

"Just answer!"

"I...I don't know!" He cried, then attempted to flee only to see you standing in the doorway, your eyes glistening. "(Name)-"

"I get it," you swallowed thickly, "She was your first love. I just wish you'd stop pretending like this relationship means anything to you." You turned and retreated to your room, locking the door and falling down against it, tears flowing freely.

You knew it was unfair. You knew he'd known her his whole life and you just a year. But you kind of hoped that since you'd actually developed what you thought was a meaningful, deep romantic relationship with him, he wouldn't have to think about it. You kind of hoped he would just choose you, simple as that. And you know it was unfair to him, and selfish of you. But you couldn't help it.

"(Name)!" The sharpshooter knocked on your door. "Please let me in!" He sounded panicked, like he did before you all went into a fight.

"Go away, Usopp," you yelled, but the pain in your voice was too clear for him to ignore.

Normally he would give up. He does that very easily. But when it comes to you he doesn't stop, and he never will. He hates leaving you on your own, especially when you're upset and even more so when he's the reason you're upset.

"Please, baby," he pleaded, "Let me explain! I never said I would! Please, just open up. Let's talk about this!"

"You can say what you want through the door," you told him, "Otherwise we don't talk at all." And yes, again this was unfair to him, but again you couldn't help it.

"I know what you must be thinking," he immediately started, "And you're wrong. Yes I used to love Kaya, and yes we almost had a relationship, but that was clearly not meant to be. Because I met you, and I fell in love with you, and I can't imagine loving anyone else now that I know what it feels like to love you." He paused for a moment, thinking of what else to say, and then, "You're the love of my life now, and I know that it will stay that way even if we were to somehow end up back in the East Blue. You are my girlfriend now, and I only ever want or think about you. Please believe me, it'll only ever be you."

Hearing all of this slowly calmed you down, and you didn't even notice when the tears stopped. His sincere, loving words hit you right where you needed them the most, and you stood up to open the door.

"You mean all that?"

"Yes," he looked like he was on the verge of tears himself. "Please don't break up with me."

"Oh, Usopp," you laughed and wiped your eyes, "I could never do that. Especially not after such sweet words. You're stuck with me."

"And hopefully always will be," he added, immediately hugging you and almost crushing your bones. "I'm so sorry (Name), I'm sorry I made you cry!" And then he actually started crying.

"Usopp..."

[cherrygirlfriend]

can you do bsf!rafe and reader getting a pregnancy scare and rafe gets a littleeeee excited but its negative at the end.

count the lines

best friend reader and rafe have a pregnancy scare. thank you for the request!! writing this was sm fun

late for 7 days was displayed on your period tracker, your heart beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears, your head in your hands. the doorbell rang, and you rushed to it, already knowing who was going to be behind the door.

rafe had a casual smirk on his face when you opened the door, quickly dropping when he saw the panicked expression on yours. “what’s wrong?” your friend asked, his hands taking hold of your forearms as you let out a sob, “hey, talk to me, baby. what’s wrong?”

“my life’s over…” you mumbled through a sob as rafe pulled you into his chest, letting out soft hushes, his hand at the back of your head, pulling you into him, “‘s okay… just talk to me, baby…”

rafe led you to the couch and sat you down, still keeping you pressed against his sigh as he patiently waited for your cries to subside. you took a deep, shaky breath, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “i… i have to tell you something, rafe,”

“go ahead.” he tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, “whatever it is, i’m sure we can-“

“i think i’m pregnant.” you could basically hear rafe’s jaw drop open at the confession you blurted out, turning to look at the boy who was moving his lips without any words leaving them, making you backpedal, “i-i mean, i don’t know for sure.” you cleared your throat, your voice scratchy, “i’m late by a week. i… i haven’t taken a test yet.”

“fuck…” rafe let out a long breath, his eyes wide, “you, uh, do you have one? a test?”

“i do. i’ve just been busy freaking out.” you scoffed out a laugh and shook your head, “i haven’t been late in… years. i don’t know what else it could be…”

“alright, let’s just… take the test, yeah? we can talk about things after we get the result.” rafe pressed a kiss on top of your head, tugging you close.

as rafe waited for you to get out of the bathroom, tapping the heel of his shoe against the floor, his hands crossed in thought. he couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if you actually were pregnant. how you’d look with your stomach round with his child, wearing one of those sundresses you were obsessed with during summertime. a twisted part of him thought about how having a baby with you would tie you to him forever, to force you to be in his life for the rest of yours.

he thought about you being a mother, holding your newborn in your arms for the first time, a tired smile on your face, your hair sweaty as you rocked the baby in your arms, rafe’s heart warm as he sat down on the hospital bed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him as he looked down at the baby. “they’re perfect.” he’d mumble into the side of your head as he pressed a kiss there.

if it was a boy, he’d teach them football. if it was a girl, he’d keep a shotgun in hand to make sure no boy would come near her.

rafe’s thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening and you coming out, a wide smile on your face as you held up the pregnancy test, one red line visible, “i’m not pregnant.” you sighed in relief. he got off the couch and walked to you, pulling you into his arms.

“that’s good. that’s a relief.” rafe mumbled, yet a part of him couldn’t help but be disappointed. the boy just knew you’d make a great mother. and you were to have a child with anyone, it better be him.

oh well. rafe would just have to try harder to knock you up.

feel free to send requests and check out my masterlist! 𓏲 ˖ 𓍯 . ⁺ 🪽

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

only you (f.h.) (drabble)

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Wife!Reader

A/N: The last month was pretty busy so I couldn't write much but I had a cute lil thought about this while I was on the bus cuz of all the Five tiktoks on my fyp

"Honestly Five, your head isn't screwed on straight! No one in their right mind would put themselves at this much risk over and over again!" You shouted, voice almost hoarse and mouth dry as you continued to berate him, as you had since you arrived almost twenty minutes ago.

Your husband continued to ignore you, not even bothering to justify his reckless mission anymore and you continued to shout, waving your hands around in your helplessness and frustration.

Five Hargeeves was a great man but the one thing you absolutely detested about him was how he decided he had to do everything on his own. You were his partner, both in the commission and in his life, but he refused to trust you with his own matters.

To a certain degree, you could understand him. He was so anxious about saving his family, so tormented by their deaths hanging over him that he felt that unless he oversaw every single detail, it would all fall apart.

But just because you understood, didn't mean you appreciated your husband putting himself in harm's way when you could've helped him.

"Are you even listening to me?! Five! Your wife is here yelling at you, and you don't even have the decency to look her in the eye?!"

He didn't reply and you were stuck staring at his broad, blazer-clad shoulders.

Then he shifted, taking a deep breath and you heard the shaky breath he let out.

"Five?"

He finally turned, eyes glistening, cheeks wet and lip quivering and you felt so heartbroken at the sight of him that you felt your own tears prick at your eyes. You immediately closed the gap between you, "Oh, sweetheart."

You sat him down in the armchair, perching on his lap and letting him hide his face into your neck, peppering kisses to the crown of his head as he took some time to compose himself.

"I'm just—so tired." His voice cracked and you felt like your heart did as well, pulling away from him just enough so you could kiss his tears away.

"Shh, it's okay." You whispered, gently running your thumbs over the peak of his cheekbones. His hands were gripping your waist with the strength of a vice, nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

"What do you need, Five? Just give me the word and I'll make it happen." You told him, now more determined than anything to shoulder the pain he was feeling, "I would move the heavens and the earth to make you happy, my love. Tell me what you need."

He slumped over in defeat, pressing his forehead to yours, "You. Only you."

You sighed, now running your fingers through his hair. A part of you was disappointed that he was still unable to open up, another was unsurprised.

"Silly request. I'm already all yours."

Taglist under cut

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

TUA Taglist:

@tchatso

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[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𝜗ৎ. 🍓 FALLING FOR WAR ?!

ໃ𑄺. paring : god of war mydei x mortal warrior male!reader

ໃ𑄺. synopsis : You are nothing but a mortal warrior—fragile, fleeting, and yet, you have defied the God of War himself. Mydei has crushed entire civilizations under his heel, yet no matter how many times he cuts you down, you rise again, bloodied but unbroken. He should end you, make an example of your defiance, but instead, he finds himself enthralled. Your stubbornness is infuriating, your resilience intoxicating. So, he decides to break you in a different way, to make you surrender, not to war, but to him. And when he finally has you beneath him, trembling and breathless, you realize that even the strongest warriors can fall.[GOD OF WAR SERIES.] ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

ໃ𑄺. warnings : nsfw/smut, man handling, size kink, rough mydei, anal sēx, mild dumbification, multiple of rounds, semi-public sēx, creampie, blowjob, face sitting (reader reviving), praise, degradation, squirting, mild dubcon and slūt shaming.

ໃ𑄺. note : this took forever to write because its my first time writing male reader.

You should have died days ago.

Maybe weeks.

Time blurred together in the haze of blood and broken bones.

Again and again, Mydei’s sword had torn you open. Again and again, his fist had driven you into the dirt like a nail.

And yet — every morning, you rose. Breathless. Shaking. But unbroken.

A mortal.

Frail. Weak.

You shouldn’t have been able to survive this long.

"You don't know when to fall, do you?" Mydei snarled today, golden armor gleaming with the blood of your comrades, his towering form looming over your battered body. "Pathetic little thing. You should be begging me to finish it."

Instead, you grinned up at him, cracked lips pulling into a bloody, stubborn smile.

"You’ll have to try harder...god."

Something inside him—something dark, something ancient—snapped.

In an instant, he was on you, sword clattering to the ground as he grabbed your throat, hoisting you up like you weighed nothing. His hand nearly wrapped around your whole neck, the size difference dizzying.

"You want harder, little mortal?" he growled against your ear, breath hot, hungry. "Then beg for it."

You tried to speak—tried to curse him—but your vision blurred from the pressure.

And gods, you hated it—hated the way your body reacted, cock stirring against the ruined fabric of your pants, heat pooling deep in your gut.

Mydei saw it.

Of course he did.

A slow, predatory grin stretched across his face. "Tch. Look at you. Getting hard just from being manhandled like a filthy little slut."

With a crash, he slammed you against a nearby stone pillar, the impact rattling your bones, the world tilting. Before you could recover, he shoved you down to your knees.

"You’re not a warrior," he sneered, grabbing your hair and forcing your face against the bulge straining his armor. "You’re weak."

You whimpered, shame burning under your skin—and still, you opened your mouth obediently when he tugged open his belt.

His cock was massive, just like the rest of him—thick, heavy, the kind of thing that would tear a man apart.

And yet... when he tapped it against your lips, smearing precum across them like a brand, you leaned in.

"Tch. Desperate little thing," Mydei growled. "You pretend you're strong... but all it takes is a real god to put you in your place."

He forced himself between your lips, groaning deep in his chest when your throat struggled to take him. You gagged, eyes watering, gripping his thighs for balance as he set a brutal pace, fucking your mouth without mercy.

Each thrust made your vision dance with stars, your nose pressed against his musky skin, the taste of salt and sweat flooding your senses.

"My stubborn little warrior..." he rasped, voice thick with arousal. "Look at you. All that pride... and you're drooling over my cock like a common whore."

Tears ran down your cheeks—whether from the choking or the humiliation, you couldn't tell.

You hated him.

You hated him so much it hurt.

And yet—your cock was throbbing, dripping precum into your ruined pants, aching for more.

Mydei pulled out with a wet pop, letting you collapse forward, gasping for air.

Before you could even think, he grabbed you again, turning you roughly, shoving your chest against the pillar.

"You wanted to fight me?" he snarled. "This is your reward."

With a brutal, merciless thrust, he speared into you, splitting you open in one stroke.

You screamed—half in pain, half in desperate, shameful pleasure—as he bottomed out inside you.

He was too big, stretching you until you felt like you might tear, the sensation riding the line between agony and ecstasy.

"F-fuck—!" you choked, fists pounding weakly against the pillar.

He just laughed, low and cruel, hips snapping forward with brutal force.

Each thrust knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock hammering deep, claiming you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the ruined temple around you—obscene, loud enough that anyone wandering nearby would hear.

And gods, the thought of it—of being caught like this, used like a ragdoll by the very god you tried to defy—made you clench around him, shame flooding you.

Mydei felt it.

"Filthy," he growled, slapping your ass hard enough to make you yelp. "Tightening up like a fucking whore just ‘cause you’re getting bred by a god."

You could barely think anymore—words slipping from your mouth in broken, needy sounds.

"F-fuck... please...!" you sobbed, hips moving on their own now, chasing every punishing thrust like an addict.

"That's it," Mydei growled, voice dark and triumphant. "Knew you’d fall eventually. Knew you’d break."

You didn't even notice him lifting you at first—didn't realize he was carrying you, impaled on his cock like a trophy, until your back slammed into another stone slab.

You whimpered, trembling in his grasp as he pounded into you even harder now, using his full strength, fucking you so deep it felt like you could taste him in your throat.

You were nothing but a ragdoll in his hands now, babbling, eyes rolling back, pleasure white-hot and brutal in your veins.

Your cock throbbed between your bodies, untouched, leaking precum in thick spurts against his stomach.

"You gonna cum, little warrior?" Mydei mocked, rutting into you with savage intensity. "Gonna cum just from getting your guts rearranged?"

You nodded frantically, unable to form words.

He laughed, low and cruel.

"Pathetic."

With a final, vicious thrust, he pushed you over the edge, and you screamed—squirting, cock pulsing, white spilling messily between your bodies.

You spasmed helplessly in his grasp, body clenching around his cock, milking him.

Mydei groaned deep in his chest, hips jerking erratically as he finally found his release, flooding you with hot, heavy ropes of cum, so much it leaked out around his cock and down your trembling thighs.

You slumped against him, boneless, mind numb and broken, gasping for breath.

And still, he held you there, impaled and stuffed full, grinding lazily into you, like he never wanted to pull out.

"Look at you," he murmured against your ear, voice almost tender now. "Mine."

You shivered—whether from fear or something darker, you didn’t know.

But as Mydei began to move again, slow and punishing, it became clear:

You had fallen.

Not to war.

Not to death.

But to him.

And you would never escape.

Mydei didn’t let you rest—not truly.

Every time you thought he’d had his fill, he dragged you back onto his cock, bruising you from the inside out, claiming you again and again.

You were his now.

Not a warrior.

Not a hero.

Just a conquered thing.

He lounged atop his fallen temple throne now, one powerful thigh thrown lazily over the stone armrest, golden armor glinting.

You were spread out across his lap, legs dangling over his knees, chest pressed to his stomach, stuffed full of him once again.

The god of war was massive underneath you, thick and twitching inside your ruined hole, still leaking hot seed from the last time he'd emptied himself into you.

"You’re lucky," Mydei rumbled, dragging a heavy hand down your back, the touch both mocking and fond. "Most mortals die screaming beneath my heel. You? You get to be kept."

You whimpered, grinding down helplessly, the tip of his cock pressing against something devastating deep inside you.

"Still hungry, are you?" he chuckled darkly. "Tch. Filthy little thing."

He grabbed your hips, lifting you easily, nearly pulling out—before slamming you back down again.

You cried out, body jerking, hands scrabbling weakly at his chest for balance.

"You belong here," he growled, bouncing you lazily on his cock, his hands gripping your waist so hard you knew you’d have bruises in the morning. "Split open on my cock where you were meant to be."

The worst part?

You loved it.

You fucking loved it.

Your cock throbbed between your bodies, smearing precum across the hard plates of his armor, soaking the golden sheen with your desperation.

"You were never a warrior," Mydei snarled, thrusting up into you so deep you screamed. "You're a fuck toy. A seat for your god."

As if to prove it, he shifted you—pinned you down against the throne now, forcing you onto your back, legs folded up to your chest.

The new angle made his cock drive impossibly deeper, battering your prostate with every brutal thrust.

"Take it," he hissed, sweat dripping from his temples. "Take your god like the desperate little thing you are."

Your mind was mush now—body shivering, drooling, mumbling incoherent prayers as he rutted into you like a beast.

Somewhere distant, you heard voices—soldiers passing the ruined temple gates, perhaps—but Mydei didn’t stop.

If anything, he fucked you harder, proud of ruining you where others could hear.

"You want them to see you?" he sneered, voice sharp as a blade. "Want them to see what happens when you defy the god of war?"

You could only sob and nod, your body betraying you completely.

With a growl, Mydei grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, the other spreading your thighs even wider, hips snapping like a piston.

"You’re mine now," he snarled into your mouth. "Say it."

You choked on a moan, words tumbling out between ragged gasps.

"M-mine—yours—fuck—yours—!"

He roared low in his chest, slamming into you one final time, cock twitching violently as he spilled inside you again—hot, thick, endless.

You felt it flood you, dripping out around him, filthy and perfect.

He didn't pull out.

Just stayed buried deep, panting against your neck, hips rocking lazily to keep you stuffed full of him.

"My pretty little ruin," he rasped, nipping your throat possessively. "I'll make sure you never walk again without remembering who broke you."

You whimpered brokenly, trembling in his grasp.

And when he shifted again—lifting your weak, pliant body to straddle his face, dragging you down onto his mouth—you didn't even fight.

Just sobbed out a needy, humiliated moan as he began to devour you, tongue forcing you into another helpless, overstimulated orgasm.

Squirting against his mouth, against his smirking lips, against the god who owned you now.

You had fallen.

Not with glory.

Not with honor.

But on your knees, trembling, broken—and utterly his.

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[seraphicsentences]

all mine (pt.2)

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

please click here!

tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.

A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.

so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.

this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!

it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact— by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.

her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.

even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.

abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.

“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.

unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.

she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.

it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.

what’s up with that, hm?

~

2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.

“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.

it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it���s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.

abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.

skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.

her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.

maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.

towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.

what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??

cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.

and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-

you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.

“hey, anderson.”

that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.

and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.

the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.

“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.

you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.

“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”

abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.

you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.

your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.

“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.

abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.

but as always, she needs more.

she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.

she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.

“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.

“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.

“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.

every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.

you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.

curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.

abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin’ get over here,” under her breath.

as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.

“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.

she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.

the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.

“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.

you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.

her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.

you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.

“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.

up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.

you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.

your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.

abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”

you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”

she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.

“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”

she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.

she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.

“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.

all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.

her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.

her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.

it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.

abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.

she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.

abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.

your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.

“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.

“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.

“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.

you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.

“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.

“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.

abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.

“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.

“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.

“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.

8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.

“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.

“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”

it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.

you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”

you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”

“i just mean- i, you know,”

you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.

“don’t-“

“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

“that’s what i thought.”

you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.

you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”

“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.

“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.

“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.

her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.

“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.

you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.

you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.

“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?

“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.

“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”

“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”

abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.

you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”

and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.

“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.

“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.

“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.

“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.

abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.

“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.

“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.

“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”

loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.

her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.

you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“

“abby.”

“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“

“abby.”

“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“

“ABBY.”

her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.

“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.

you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.

“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.

you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.

she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”

a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.

“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.

abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.

she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.

but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.

you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.

“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.

you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.

you settle on one.

“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.

abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.

“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.

you see her breath catch in her throat.

“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.

she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.

and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.

so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.

so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.

ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.

i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!

anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)

also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.

taglist:

@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson

@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent

@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3

[autumnscribbles]

break in | rafe cameron

pairing: pogue!reader x rafe

summary: after an argument, rafe leaves you alone in a potentially dangerous situation

warnings: break in, swearing

a/n: my first fic back in forever!!!! my life has completely fallen apart lately so i need to write about some fictional boys to cope! i’m a little (a lot) rusty so apologies! thank you all for reading, and as always my requests are open🫶🏻

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾

The air in the house felt heavy, the silence deafening. You glanced over your head at Rafe, his gaze towards the floor rather than fixed on you. The tension was thick. It had not been your best day, and it was starting to wear you down.

“Are you planning on speaking to me or are you gonna give me the silent treatment for the rest of the night?” you snapped, fully turning your body around to face him.

He remained silent, his eyes still not looking up to meet yours. You could tell his head was spinning just by the look on his face. You had a feeling he was holding his temper back, preferring to be silent than say something mean to you. The silence killed you regardless.

You took a few steps forward until you were standing in front of him, your anger becoming more and more palpable.

“Are you seriously that angry?” you asked. “It’s a bit fucking ridiculous Rafe.”

“I’m ridiculous?” he finally shot back. “Really, y/n?”

“Really, Rafe,” you nodded, your volume matching his. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on with JJ?”

He took a few steps away from you, running his hand over his head as he let out a deep, heavy sigh. His jaw clenched as he looked back at you.

“Until I believe you,” he retorted. “You pogues can’t always be trusted, and I definitely don’t trust him.”

“It’s not about trust,” you said. “It’s about the fact that you’re so controlling and I’m pushing back.”

He remained silent, but this time his eyes remained fixed on you. His blue eyes bore into yours, somehow only making you more angry.

“You know what, Rafe? You’re a fucking asshole,” you told him calmly. “And you’re just like your father.” No yelling, just the choked sound of your voice as tears welled up behind your eyes.

“I’m not doing this,” he exhaled. “I’m going to the party.”

You saw him snatch up a hoodie that had been hanging on the back of a chair before he stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him. The silence encompassed you again, but this time he was gone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe showed up at Topper’s place, his friends all wasted already. The sun hadn’t even gone down yet. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. He grabbed a beer and took a long sip, releasing another sigh. Topper came up behind him, slapping his back a little too hard in excitement.

“Hey dude, I didn’t see you show up!”

Rafe chugged the rest of his beer, opening another one promptly. He didn’t want to think about the words he said to you, or what you said to him. Maybe he shouldn’t have accused you, but you also knew how to cut deep. He needed a breather.

The party continued to roar as Rafe mingled, girls ogling him as he met back up with Topper. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and pulled it out to see your name light up the screen.

“Ignore her,” Topper yelled over the music.

Rafe obliged, shoving his phone back in his pocket and pretending he hadn’t seen it. He wanted to apologize, but he was also still angry, and unfortunately stubborn. He didn’t want to talk. Not yet.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath as you paced back and forth in your bedroom upstairs. “Answer Rafe.”

You dialed him again, meeting nothing but his voicemail message again. You cursed, throwing your phone onto your bed and tiptoeing back to the window. You pulled the curtain aside, just barely, and peeked out. You could see the two men hovering, looking like they were scheming about something. What did they want? Were they dangerous? Maybe they were just friends of Ward’s, waiting to talk to Rafe about something.

After a few minutes when you went back to look out the window, they were both gone. You let out a breath of relief. Just an overreaction.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe leaned against the wall, waiting for the bathroom to be free. He hoped there weren’t people making out in there…or worse. He pulled his phone out of his pocket out of boredom, seeing multiple missed calls from you.

He noticed another notification, from the home security system he had set up not long ago. It was notifying him of movement near the house.

He pulled up the footage, seeing two men hovering around the front of the house. He didn’t recognize them. They walked off, and the footage cut. He furrowed his eyebrows as he clicked the second notification from the camera at the back of the house. He noticed them trying to get the back door open. What the fuck?

As he walked back through the house to leave, he dialed your number, hoping to god you would pick up and not ignore him out of pettiness. You answered on the first ring, sounding out of breath and like you had been crying.

“Baby,” he said quickly. “I need you to get out of the house now, okay? Don’t panic, just go as quickly and as quietly as you can.”

“Is it those guys?” you asked, your voice lowering to a whisper. He told you not to panic, but you were panicking.

“What guys? You saw them?” he asked.

“Yeah I saw them at the front of the house, but I thought they left,” you explained. “I tried calling you.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry baby, I’ll be home as soon as I can just get out of the house.”

“Rafe!” you screamed. He could hear commotion going on, but as he screamed for you he was not met with your voice. He heard two unfamiliar voices, and the sound of breaking glass. Another scream and the line went dead.

“Fuck!” he screamed. He grabbed Topper from the collar, “Can you give me a ride home?”

He had walked here, needing to clear his head after the argument with you. He realized now that was a mistake. You could be hurt, or worse, and he wasn’t there. His protective instincts were ablaze, there was nothing more important than getting to you.

“Dude I’m wasted,” Topper slurred.

“Give me your keys,” Rafe demanded, and Topper offered them up immediately. “And call 911 and send them to my place. NOW!”

He ran off before he could hear Topper’s response. He had tunnel vision, you were the only thing that was important right now. He didn’t care if those guys destroyed his house, stole all his belongings, as long as they hadn’t touched you.

His heart pounded as he sped back home, praying he wouldn’t get pulled over. He wouldn’t pull over, not until he knew you were safe. He could barely think, or even breathe as he sped down the familiar roads back to his house.

He pulled up, a swarm of cops surrounding the place. He sprinted to them, ignoring the calls of his name as he stormed through the front entrance. He didn’t see you.

“Where is she?” he screamed to no one in particular, hoping someone would answer.

“Rafe?” you called, barely able to get the sound out.

“Y/n,” he breathed, running over to where you stood on the balcony, blanket over your shoulders, the broken window beside you.

You crashed into his chest, sobs that you had been holding back finally escaping. Rafe tightened his arms around you, whispering apologies. He pulled back slightly, just enough that he could cup his large hands on either side of your face.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I ran upstairs once they saw me, and the cops showed up not long after.”

“Thank god,” he exhaled, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry baby, I-“

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I’m okay.”

“I shouldn’t have left,” he defended, shaking his head. “I was an asshole, like you said.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” you muttered.

“Doesn’t matter now, baby,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t okay. I can’t even imagine if something happened to you.”

“I’m okay,” you reassured him. “We’re okay?”

He just nodded, pulling you closer to him. He knew he would need to talk to the cops, but right now he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go after feeling so close to losing you.

You didn’t understand how someone could make you feel so secure despite the fact that your house was just broken into. It was as if all the events of the day melted away, and you were secure again.

You were safe. Right there, with him.

[byshens]

nasty girl ─── wang yixiang ( f. reader ) -> wc 1,794

ⓘ breast fucking, deep throating, cumming on face, breast worship(?), nipple sucking, petnames ( baby, nasty girl, princess, good girl ), needy nicholas, cum eating, raw sex (dont), creampie, fingering. lmk if i missed any !!

note i just had to write this after posting my hard thought abt it … but oh em gee?! first &team work posted LESS GOO !!! if you wish to be tagged in works, apply here !! 💌 ── back 2 catalogue!

── requests are open! ( pls ignore any typos .. )

“f-fuck, baby—“ nicholas groaned, his fist full of your hair as you took his cock in your mouth, softly gagging around his length.

you dont even remember how you got in this situation. one minute you’re just chilling on the couch and the next nicholas has you on your knees in front of him, forcing you to take all of him into your mouth.

not that you were complaining, though.

the painful grip that your boyfriend had on your hair mixed with your throat being full of his cock, your eyes started to tear up. you glanced up at nicholas and his hips stuttered, his breath catching in his throat.

“oh my god—dont—dont look at me like that,” nicholas moaned, pulling your head back slightly so he could watch how deep his tip hits the back of your throat.

“fuck, im close,” he moaned, his pace quickening. your hands gripped his legs as you watched him chase his high. his hips jerking forward before he stilled, his cock still deep inside your mouth while it filled with his cum.

you choked around him which made him pull out, but before you could even do anything else, he was kissing you. forcing you to keep his cum inside your lips, having him taste himself as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

“swallow it,” he demanded once he pulled away, his eyes staring back at yours, cold and stern. he loved watching you become his nasty girl.

and you did as you were told, you swallowed his release and took a breath, finally able to breathe again from all that. you watched his eyes light up with admiration, he loved watching how pretty you looked whenever he messed you up like this.

he moved you over to your shared bed and climbed on top of you, his hands instantly cupping your breasts from under your shirt. you never wore a bra when around him, knowing how obsessed he was with your tits. it always gave him free access to them whenever he wanted.

“baby, can i take this off?” he asked, referring to your shirt, which you quickly nodded. your nipples immediately hard as the cold air hit them, but it didnt last long before your boyfriend’s mouth was on them.

“fuck, nicho,” you whined. his tongue swirling around each bud, giving both breasts fair attention from his mouth. you could feel yourself getting wet just from this, nicho’s hand giving your tits a squeeze which caused you to whimper.

“you’re so perfect, so so pretty.” he praised as he kissed along the soft skin of your breast, his tongue flattened and sliding across them, leaving saliva all over.

whenever you and nicholas had sex, there was always a break section between the rough and dirty fucking, and that was nicho worshipping your tits. it wasnt until the 2nd year of you dating when you found out his obsession with your chest.

you always knew he liked your tits, what man wouldnt like a nice set of breasts? especially on the woman he loves? but nicholas.. oh he was a freak, he fantasized about yours. all his friends knew it too, he never shut up about it to them.

but he never wanted to rush you to his freaky desires, especially if you didnt like it. but during sex one time, you gave him the word. you pushed his head towards your boob and his face lit up.

“suck.” was all you had to say to change your sex life with him forever. now he never misses his chance to admire you, your body, praise you like you’re the finest piece of art in the world—and to him—you are, of course.

your thoughts were interrupted by his teeth, softly biting down on your skin. oh nicholas, always needing to leave his marks on your skin.

“please,” you moaned, looking down at him. he looked like he was in heaven, your chest covered in his spit and love bites, his cock fully hard again while you soaked up your inner thighs with need.

nicholas’ head snapped up at your plea, his face red with blush but his eyes filled with hunger. hunger for you. he nodded and smirked, settling into his spot right in front of your face, and you knew immediately.

your hands pushed both your breasts together so they were on either side of his hard, leaking cock. it twitched once it felt your soft skin, his lips releasing a loud whine before he looked into your eyes, begging if he could start.

you nodded and his cock started fucking between your tits, his thrusts sloppy due to the weird angle but he didnt care, you didnt care, no one cared.

he sped up, desperately trying to find that intense pleasure he always got from just this, how your head was leaned forward, mouth open, tongue out, so every time he fucked forward the tip of his cock would slide into your warm mouth.

no matter how many times this occurs within your sex life, it will never not be fucking sexy to you. watching how needy and pathetic nicholas gets just from your boobs always amazes you, and you love every second of it.

“oh fuck, fuck, princess—“ nicholas moaned, his cock twitching and begging to release, but he didnt want to end it so fast. he held in his climax, looking down to watch how dirty you looked in this position.

you leaned onto your elbows, causing a shift in the direction of his thrusts but made it even better, but now his cock slipped deeper into your mouth with every thrust. your tongue hitting his slit, nicholas felt like he was on fire.

“oh, oh, shit—“ he cursed, his hips jerking forward as he came. white strips of cum splattering across your face and onto your tongue, nicholas was breathing heavily when he moved himself off of your body to hover you, leaning down to kiss you deeply.

you moaned into the kiss, your hands moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, deeper. he could taste himself again, never really enjoying it but nothing mattered to him when his lips were on yours, kissing the soul out of him.

his hand moved down to your panties, he gasped against your mouth as he felt how soaked you were. slowly feeling bad about how he didnt notice your needs sooner, but now its here. he pushes your undies to the side and inserted two of his fingers into your wetness.

your back arched at the sudden touch, your eyes rolling back behind your eyelids as you pushed your hips down onto his fingers. nicholas’ tongue still deep inside your mouth, inhaling your every sound.

your legs spread wider for him, giving him more room to finger fuck you. angling his fingers in all the good places, your thighs shaking slightly. “nicho, please, i need you.” you whined, finally pulling away from the passionate kiss.

nicholas didnt waste anytime after those words slipped through your lips. he removed his fingers from your cunt and ripped your panties off. he positioned himself between your legs, his cock already hard again before he pushed himself inside your heat, earning a loud cry from you.

“oh! my god,” you whimpered, finally embracing his cock with your soaked walls. nicholas groaned as even with how wet you are, you were still a bit tight but that didnt slow him down. he knew you needed to be fucked good and fucked good you will be.

“c’mon, princess, you can take it, hm?” he smirked before his pace quickened. the sounds of your needy cries and squelching of his cock sliding in and out of you, oh he was going mad.

you nodded, a small ‘yeah’ was whimpered out of you as you took him, as he used your cunt for his and your pleasure, needing to fill you up with his seed.

his hands gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you still as he pounded into your pussy, the tip of his cock nearly hitting your cervix, your stomach tightened with all the pleasure.

your skin was on fire, you were breathless but couldnt stop moaning, couldnt stop needing more. you felt like you needed him to live inside your pussy, never leaving. that’s how good nicholas always makes you feel, you never want him to stop.

“mmph—please! fuck!” you cry out, your hands gripping the bedsheets, back off the bed in a long arch. he wasnt slowing down, he wasnt going easier, he was fucking you with all he had. he was desperate, almost as desperate as you were.

“fuck, you feel so fucking good, taking my cock so well,” he praised. he was sweating, the sounds of skin slapping against each other was loud, but neither of you cared. you were always prepared to deal with noise complaints, but your pleasure was way more important right now. to the both of you.

“nicho, i’m close, im close!” you squeaked out as your thighs trembled on either side of his body, his nails digging into your skin. he was close too, his cock overstimulated with how much he had already came before.

“cum for me,” he groaned, snapping his hips roughly into you, slower but harder. you let out a loud broken cry as you came, your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling. nicholas was close behind you, his hips snapping hard and still as he filled up your cunt with his cum.

“good girl, good girl..” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck, breathless along with you. he stayed inside your cunt, giving you time to come down from the high, his fingers now soothing your hips. his lips kissing softly all around your skin, whispering soft nothings to you.

“‘m good now, fuck..” you breathed out, a small giggle leaving your lips as nicholas gave you his dumb cheeky smile. and just like that, he was your silly annoying boyfriend again.

“let’s stay like this for a while.” he said in a soft loving tone, all seriousness in his voice but all you could do was scoff. he was—mind you—still deep inside your cunt, and he wanted to stay like that? while his cum was dripping out from the sides?

“baby, thats nasty.” you whined, already feeling the stickiness from it all, but nicholas grumbled and pulled you closer to cuddle, a gasp leaving your mouth as his cock moved in you with it.

“you’re nasty, though.” he fought back, a grin across his lips as he held your hand and he said something you couldnt even deny. in the most sincere tone, he said—“you’re my nasty girl.”

© byshens. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or post onto another platforms without my consent.

[lieslab]

Do not go gentle into that good night

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X afab reader

Summary: You've been waiting months to meet your baby, but giving birth doesn't go the way you and your husband expected it to.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 6.8k

Trigger warning: Mentions of blood, nausea, giving birth, bodily fluids, and near death experiences.

A/N: I combined two pregnancy requests for this and all I have to say is good luck. This took me three hours to write. This is one of my favorite things I've ever written. Yes, it does have references to Interstellar. It felt right and I feel like I'm going to think about this for the rest of my life. Enjoy <3

_ _ _

Having a baby is one of the most difficult things a person can do in their life. Expected or not, no matter the conscious decision, it’s bound to be life-changing. When you go from you to we. From me to us. One to two, possibly three or more. 

For you and Minho, it’d been a conversation held in passing before. Jokes about someone created with each of your DNA and quirks. Maybe your eyes and his lips. His eyebrows and the length of your lashes. You always laughed and joked, never knowing when the time was right, and then it was there. 

A heavy decision between the two of you, but you both agreed to it. Nine months and a few weeks ago, you didn’t know what caused it. Perhaps, it was the conversations from his parents when they jokingly asked when their grandchildren would no longer be cats. 

Maybe it happened because Minho caught you staring at a baby while the two of you were grocery shopping one day. The way your eyes lit up and a smile naturally came to your face. When the child’s mother stepped around the cart to grab something and for a brief moment, the stranger’s child held eye contact with you. The way it didn’t feel like a coincidence, but rather a silent promise from the universe. When the time was right, you’d have your baby, too. 

Two months and six days into your pregnancy, you bombarded Minho with baby name books from the library. You forced him into a chair in the kitchen and pointed out all the names you liked. He couldn’t be mad at you. Exhausted from dance practice? Absolutely, but the way you were so happy, there’s no way he could ruin that for you. 

The taunting and teasing never stopped throughout your pregnancy and for that, you were grateful for. You didn’t know what you’d do without it. After the shock melted away and you realized you were pregnant, you grew fearful that things would change. 

Perhaps, he’d have second thoughts and regret it. Maybe he’d decide to leave, despite the vows you took and the way the golden bands wrapped around each of your fingers day-after-day. Your own self-doubt wrapped around you like an oversized sweater, but when Minho took that oath at the altar, he vowed to keep it forever. 

In sickness and in health. Every time he could be, he was there. He took extra days off work when your morning sickness appeared. When your feet swelled up and tears flooded your eyes, he was right there to soothe you and gently work his fingers into the bottom of your foot. 

When your body changed against your will and to your disappointment, he was right there consoling you. You laid in his lap, feelings scattered from the hormonal changes, but he didn’t taunt you for what you couldn’t control. You hated the new puffiness in your face. The way your stomach poked out with a baby bump. 

Other days, you were glowing. He’d wake up to you in the kitchen with multiple ingredients spread out. Humming beneath your breath, you manned the stove like a seasoned fry cook. He constantly worried, he always did. When he tried to gently work the spatula from your hand, you swatted him and told him to leave you alone. Despite your growing belly, you could manage this, for now. 

Tying your shoes was another issue. At first, you tried to slip into them while they were still tied. The first time you realized that you could no longer reach your feet, you chucked your shoe in a random direction. Minho appeared, just barely dodging it in time. 

It slammed into the wall with a heavy thud, but he didn’t lecture you. Instead, he grabbed it and slid onto the ground beside you. When he grabbed your ankles and gently slipped your shoes around them, you burst into sobs. It was only then that he teased you about crying because he had to touch your reeking shoes. That only caused you to send the other in his direction. 

The days and weeks ticked by. Month-after-month marched on. One week until your due date. Two days until your due date. You circled it bright red on the calendar. The day came and then it went. You waited for a sign of your water breaking, but it never came. 

On day three, you grew antsy. Your doctor promised she’d induce your pregnancy if you hadn’t popped by the end of the week. Minho offered hot sauce, but you declined. Myths didn’t work on you. You weren’t convinced that it’d break your water. If it did, you’d be trapped in the hospital with heartburn. 

Day four, Minho hesitated to go into work, but you insisted. Vowing promises that you’d call if anything changed or happened, he spent the entire day with his phone on. Not once did it ring or ping with a text message. 

On that fateful day, the stars aligned. Deep down, you could feel it in your gut. It wasn’t just the baby pressing up against your bladder again, but rather a maternal instinct. The baby was coming, regardless if you were ready or not. You had to be. In a matter of hours or a few days, your family of two would turn into a trio. 

The nursery was a conversation that you and Minho spent a lot of time on. Back and forth, your opinions swayed and changed. You didn’t know the gender of the baby, you opted to be surprised. You weren’t really worried, not really. In your head, colors are colors and no matter boy or girl, you’d love them all the same. 

The nursery didn’t have to be blue or pink. For nearly two hours one night, you and Minho went back and forth discussing different ideas. At first, it was animals. Painted giraffes that’d stare over your baby with inanimate protection and admiration in their dark eyes. 

A small bookshelf full of baby books about a variety of different creatures. Some with creepy crawly bugs and others with the larger than life creatures hanging beneath the ocean currents. The woodland creatures hiding behind trees and tangled in the forest’s underbelly. 

Maybe a few of those larger plush animals to settle around the room. When they grew older, your baby could pretend they were real. Everything feels larger when you’re that young. A knee high stuffed elephant to you, but a real life sized one to them. 

The wheels shifted and turned in another direction. Minho mentioned a brief obsession he had as a young boy. Space and the aligning planets. The silent vacuum and unraveling darkness. 

Maybe you could plant a spaceship inspired bookcase. Painted bright colors and lined with knowledge, you’d coo your kid into becoming the best explorer. Even if the world is scary and dangerous, you’d send them out there into the great beyond. No matter where life took them, you’d try to be the best parents that you could possibly be. 

And then it all changed again. Something simple and easily changeable. After all, this would be the room where your baby would grow up. They’d age and flicker through the phases of life, just as you and Minho had. It had to be rational, expandable, able to be switched around to house whatever beauty that growing mind dreamt up. 

And so you decided on a gentle night. Originally, you wanted to decorate with Minho and Minho alone, but when he announced the guys wanted to help, your heart swelled. A heart-stopping and warm reminder that you weren’t just raising this baby alone, you had a village. 

You remembered the day like it was yesterday. Felix with denim overalls and Chan and Changbin waltzing in behind him with two gallons of paint in each hand. Jeongin handed everyone brushes and everyone got busy. Too much paint, but the guys didn’t care. 

Minho’s arm wrapped around you. He kissed your cheek and all you could do was stare. The laughter and imagination ran wild. Hyunjin’s large bright strokes of color across the white room. On the opposite side, paint from Han’s paintbrush leaked onto Seungmin. He quickly apologized, but Seungmin retaliated by painting his elbow. 

What should have taken hours, it only took two. When they finished, Minho led the guys downstairs to help build the crib. You walked around to take photos. You’d never remember this day perfectly as it unwound, but you wanted to try. 

The guys often stopped by unexpectedly. It took time before the two of you began to expect it. Chan coming over to make you a hearty and fulfilling meal. Felix randomly appearing with Jeongin and a plateful of his brownies. 

When Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, and Seungmin appeared all together one day and offered to take you out to get your mind off your worries about the baby, you collapsed in Seungmin’s arms sobbing. Gripping onto him tightly, you thanked him over and over again. All he could do was weakly console you and look to the guys for help, but he was on his own. He wasn’t used to your high-strung emotions, nobody was. 

The days all kept going and going and going. You waited and waited and waited. In the nursery, you and Minho finished it alone. Using puffy brushes, you dabbed white amongst the blue to replicate puffy white clouds. You tried to help Minho put glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, but he refused. Having you stand on a ladder and reach up, it was far too much stress and a disaster waiting to happen. 

In the end, sitting in your rocking chair and gently rocking, it felt like being in the clouds. A white soft rug sat in the middle of the floor. You planned to use it for tummy time when the timing was right. 

Shades of lighter blue and white filtered around the room. From plushies, curtains, and to a variety of other things, the only thing missing was your kid. You knew they’d be here soon, you just didn’t know when the time would be right. 

You rocked in your rocking chair and waited. Minho’s vocals bounced off the recording studio’s walls. Anxiety pulsed in his stomach and he rocked on his feet, waiting for Chan’s approval to continue singing or not. 

Your hands wrapped around your stomach. “You’ve been in there such a long time, but I can’t wait to hold you in my arms. I think you’re really going to love it here. Your father and I have spent so long waiting for you. He’s just as excited as I am.” 

A faint kick hit the palm of your hand, causing you to smile. “I bet you’re tired of being in there, aren’t you? Whenever you’re ready, we’ll be waiting for you.” You laughed to yourself, amused with the idea of your baby rationalizing your words and understanding your thoughts. 

You pushed against the arms to get up, but that’s when you felt it. Something shifted internally. Your eyebrows pinched together in pain and your hand went back to your stomach. “Easy there, you’re hurting me. Try not to get too squirmy or I’ll have to call the doctor.” 

You couldn’t understand it, not fully. Something was happening, but you weren’t sure what. The sun continued to wind down from afternoon into evening. Minho reappeared at the end of the day and kicked off his shoes. 

You sat with your cheek slung over the edge of the couch. Anxiety brewed, but you didn’t know what to say to Minho, or your doctor. Your water didn’t burst. You weren’t bleeding vaginally. Besides an occasional pain in your stomach, nothing happened. 

“How’s my baby?” 

“I’m good,” you mumbled from the couch.

“I meant our child.” 

You glanced over with an unamused scowl. Minho grinned and slowly approached you. “I’m just kidding. Did anything change while I was away?” 

Your mouth opened and you considered telling him, but you decided against it. Worrying him was pointless, he was already anxious enough. After your due date, you knew he worried as much as you. You could tell by the way that he kept glancing over and looking at you when he thought you were distracted. 

“Not really. A lot of bumps to my bladder, unfortunately, but I’ve made it to the bathroom every time. It’s probably a good thing I took time off work for maternity leave, right?” You forced yourself to smile. 

He eyed you and nodded. You didn’t pull away, allowing him to lean down and press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only a few more days until we officially become parents. I can’t wait to be a parent beside you.” 

“Do you think we’ll be good parents?” 

“I know we’ll be good parents. If we don’t know the answers, we have your parents and my parents. I’m sure if we needed to, the guys’ parents would help out, too. Some of my staff members are also parents. They’re all taking bets on the gender of the baby.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” He reached down and pressed a gentle hand to your stomach. “I hope you’re a boy. If you’re a girl, I owe my manager fifty bucks.” 

“Lee Minho!” 

“Hey, let’s be serious, do you think I’d really pay up if our baby is a girl? I’m going to use the excuse that I’m a first time father. You know how my manager feels about me, right?” 

“You’re being manipulative and cruel.” 

“I’m winning fifty bucks for this family and when I win it, we’re going out for a nice dinner.” 

“With the baby?” Your eyebrow raised. 

“Oh, no. At some point, we’re going to use a break. I think my mom misses me being a baby sometimes. She’ll get to experience it all over again with our little one.” He patted your stomach a few times and pulled away. “I’ve gotta go shower, but if you need something, call me. I’ll make us dinner when I’m finished.” 

You watched him disappear back into the bathroom. The pain in your stomach grew and you waited for your water to burst. You expected warmth between your legs. A gush that felt like you urinated everywhere, but it never came. Instead, nothing happened and the evening continued to unravel like usual.

 ~ ~ ~ 

The neon red letters of your clock read 2:11 AM. You blinked, groggily coming around. Behind you, Minho slept facing the opposite wall. Every night, he tossed and turned between the blankets and the mattress. Tonight, it wasn’t any different. 

However, something caused you to jerk upright. You blinked blearily, trying to get a good grasp on your surroundings. Your hand blindly fumbled over towards your husband. “Minho?” You whispered softly. 

He shifted and his nose scrunched. In the darkness of the bedroom, night swallowed both of you whole. You forced your arm to shake his shoulder harder. Your voice came out a little louder this time. “Minho?” 

He groaned and spun around. “No, I don’t wanna get up. I have the day off. Leave me alone and let me sleep.” 

“Minho, there’s something wrong with the baby.” 

His eyes cracked open and the words echoed in his head. One time. Twice. Three times and then he jerked himself up so fast, you feared you gave him whiplash. “What? What’s wrong? Did your water break? Are you bleeding?” 

His hands pawed around as he pushed himself up from the bed. He fumbled, attempting to find the switch to click on the lamp. “What’s going on? Do I need to call an ambulance?” 

“I’ve been having what I think are contractions since yesterday afternoon and I-” 

The faint click caused both of your eyes to shut. Bright yellow light blinded both of you immediately. You groaned and tucked your hands around your stomach. It took a few seconds before he opened his eyes. “What are you talking about?” 

“I felt weird yesterday.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Panic laced his voice. A hand ran through his hair and he looked for the bags the two of you previously packed. Two bags, one for each of you. Both were filled with items to last you throughout your hospital stay. 

“I didn’t want to worry you. My water didn’t break and for so long, I thought it might be in my head.” 

“We have to get you to the hospital right now.” 

“Something’s wrong. I don’t know what it is, but it’s wrong. I don’t understand it. My water hasn’t broken. I’m not bleeding. I can feel the baby moving, but I-” 

“Let’s go!” 

He wasted no time slinging the bags over his shoulders and gently helping you to your feet. In your pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt, sleep still clung to you. Instead of walking, you waddled down the hall. Not something you liked doing, but something you learned how to do as your stomach kept expanding in front of you. 

You tried to remember the way your house looked. Two lovers with vows gifted to the gods. Golden rings around your fingers and a baby kept comfortable in your stomach. You remembered the excitement in your eyes when the two of you agreed to have a baby. The giddiness in your skips to the bedroom. Minho’s laughter filled the crevice of every fault in your heart. 

When you came back home, you’d be a new family of three. 

~ ~ ~ 

“You did the right thing by coming in. How long did you say you’ve been having these pains?” The doctor glanced up from between your legs. 

“Since yesterday afternoon.” 

“Well, I have good news and bad news.” 

Beside you, Minho’s hand slipped into yours and he gently squeezed your hand. The doctor smiled at the two of you, a silent reassurance that despite the bad, you’d be in good hands. “The good news is this is completely fixable.” 

“And the bad?” 

“Well, childbirth is never easy, is it?” 

“So you’re saying that things are okay?” You squeezed Minho’s hand tighter, hoping for reassurance. He grimaced, but didn’t tell you to let go. 

“What you’re experiencing right now is labor arrest. Technically, you’re in labor, but your contractions aren’t strong enough to help open your cervix. We want your cervix open, so we can get the baby out vaginally.” The doctor pushed back on her stool and began to remove her gloves. 

“So this is fixable?” 

“I’m going to have a nurse administer a certain medicine via IV drip. It’ll help push you further into labor. Your contractions will increase and although it might not feel great, it’ll help you dilate more. The cervix expands ten centimeters.” 

“How big is that exactly?” 

“Roughly? About the size of the lid of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream pint.” 

Minho’s face began to grow pale. “Not to sound insensitive here, but I’m so glad I’m not pregnant. You’re so strong and you can definitely do this.” 

You glanced up, not thrilled at his words. He gave you a faint smile and gently patted the top of your hand. “Don’t worry, there’s ways to help with pain, right?” He glanced up at the doctor for reassurance. 

“Of course. If the contractions become too bad and too painful, we can always administer an epidural to numb you from the waist down. I know it’s scary, but don’t worry, you’re in good hands” The doctor patted your shoulder and disappeared from the room. 

Beside you, Minho let out a soft sigh. “I guess for now, it’s just another waiting game, huh?” 

“At least our baby is okay.” Your hands kept steady around your stomach. Ever since you arrived, you didn’t let go. It was the closest thing you could get to holding your baby for now. “Let’s just hope and pray it goes smoothly from this point on.” 

~ ~ ~ 

Sometime in the early morning, you weren’t sure what went wrong. You tried to do everything right for this pregnancy. No alcohol or caffeine. You limited yourself to the exposure of germs. Hand washing became more and more frequent. 

It all went so smoothly after the nurse administered an IV and ran medication into it. Your contractions picked up and when the option for an epidural came around, you took it. You waited and waited and waited some more. 

Minho tried to keep you entertained. He texted everyone to let them know you were in labor. You texted your own family to give them the exciting news. You were bound to the bed after your epidural, it’s not like you could go anywhere with the lower half of your body numbed, but you were still excited.

Your hands patted your numbed thighs. Every so often, the doctor came back to check your dilation. You were progressing so well throughout the morning and she was sure you could begin pushing by noon. 

Your kid was almost here. Nine months and a handful of days of waiting. You waited for this moment for so long. You thought about the satisfaction of giving birth in your worst moments. 

Leaning over the toilet and projectile vomiting as your stomach twisted and turned, you held onto the thought of staring into your child’s eyes one day. When you cried over not being able to tie your shoes without help, you reminded yourself that your own kid would take their very first steps. You’d be right there with Minho to experience it all. 

You pouted when Minho ate something you couldn’t have. He tried not to eat what you couldn’t have, but he was only human. Sometimes he caved and had sushi or the occasional alcoholic drink. You couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, you’d indulge, too. It still hurt your heart and your sensitive hormones when it happened. 

“Push!” The doctor instructed you. “Come on, I know it hurts, but you’ve gotta keep going. I can see the head. Just a little more.” 

Minho couldn’t feel his hand. He couldn’t feel his hand ten minutes ago. If he would have known you would have destroyed it while giving birth, he would have worked out his hands with those hand cranks. 

“I can’t!” You cried out with tears in your eyes. “I can’t push anymore.” 

“You don’t have a choice, you have to. Come on, you can do this!” 

Tears dripped down your cheeks. Your body had been through absolute hell for hours. The epidural began to wear off and they refused to give you another. Sweat dripped down the side of your flushed face. 

“Come on,” Minho whispered gently. “A few more pushes and you never have to do this again.” 

“This is all your fault!” You snapped angrily. “You got me pregnant!” 

“I know, I know.” 

“Push!” The doctor instructed again.

Behind her, a handful of nurses awaited the arrival of your little one. They were already prepped with the towels and the warmer. Brightly colored scrubs and the white nasal aspirator to clear out their nose and mouth from amniotic fluid. 

You gritted your teeth and with a cry of frustration, you began to push again. The head and shoulders were always the worst part. Your cervix sat wide open and you still thought it’d stretch and tear. If you were lucky, you’d manage to escape this without ripping down to your ass. 

“How fucking big is this goddamn baby?” Your eyes squeezed shut and you pushed again. 

“I think that’s a little offensive.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Minho!” 

Between your legs, the doctor tried to stop her laughter. Kind green eyes, hair pulled back, and gloves soaked with amniotic fluid, she coached you to push again. Minho’s hand turned white from the force of your fingers clenching around it. 

He forced himself to take his own deep breaths. He breathed how the doctor instructed you to breathe. It was the only thing stopping him from jerking his hand away and screaming at the top of his lungs.

“I can see the head! Keep pushing! You’re almost there! A few more and you’ve got it! Come on!” 

“Minho?” You croaked, wrenching his hand a final time. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

“No, no, no. You can. You can do this. I didn’t stand here and get the bones broken in my hand for nothing. Push!” 

Your scream bounced off the walls. It hit everyone’s ears. The pain, the determination, and the grit that only a mother can carry. The doctor’s hands swooped in and for a brief second, the pain stopped. Your cries weren’t the only one. 

“You did it,” Minho whispered. He leaned down, wrapped a hand around your head, and gently tucked you to his stomach. “Did you hear me? You did it.” 

Tears steadily streamed down your cheeks. You didn’t take your eyes off your baby. Passed from doctor to nurse, the nurse rushed in to take care of the wailing and choking baby. The doctor beamed and turned back to you. 

“It’s a boy! You’re having a boy! Congratulations, you did an amazing job.” 

Minho blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. Nurses worked frantically through the cries. A tiny suction in the back of the throat and pulled out. In one nasal and then the other. He reached up and wiped his eyes before the tears could fall. 

You, on the other hand, dread grew in your gut. A dizziness overtook you and your grip on Minho’s hand weakened. “Minho?” You whispered. 

“Hmm?” 

“I don’t feel very good.” 

The doctor caught your words and glanced up. The moment she realized the color of your face was fading, her eyes widened. “Hey! I need some help over here!” 

Unoccupied nurses glanced back at you. 

“Sutures stat! We’ve got hemorrhaging!” She jerked her surgical mask back over her face and rushed back between your legs. 

You didn’t know what was happening, but you could feel it. Warmth flooded between your legs. It soaked the bed sheet beneath you and spread out in every direction. The doctor cursed beneath her breath and grabbed a cloth to place pressure on the bleeding. 

“What’s going on?” 

“The baby was larger than expected. When that happens, sometimes there’s tearing. Stitches are going to be needed.” The doctor called your name and glanced back up at your face. “Can you hear me?” 

“Baby?” Minho reached up and gently tapped your cheek. “Stay awake. Do you hear me? Don’t close your eyes. You’re going to be okay. They’re going to fix you and-” 

“I love you.” 

His heart dropped. Three little words that held so much weight. He dropped to his knees, tucking your face between his hands. “Don’t you dare leave me here. Fight! Don’t fall asleep!” 

In the distance, the baby cried louder. A nurse cooed, trying to console up as chaos broke loose in the background. Minho tapped your cheek rapidly, but your eyes drooped further and further shut. 

“No, no, no. Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP! Don’t leave us here!” 

“Get him out of here, now!” 

“No!” 

A nurse rushed to his side. “Sir, please.” 

“I’m not leaving!” 

“You need to let the doctor work. Please, you’re only making this worse for everyone involved.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” 

He didn’t get a choice in the end. Not willingly. Another nurse appeared, a male with biceps protruding beneath his light pink scrubs. “Sir, we’re not asking you, we’re telling you.” 

Your eyes drooped until your head slumped back against the hospital bed. A suture kit found the doctor’s hand and she began to instruct a nurse what she needed from her. Her hands worked methodically. This wasn’t the first time she raced death to save a patient after giving birth. 

He fought against the man-handling, but it was no use. All he could do was call out your name through the cries of your newborn son. Stepping outside felt like losing both of you. 

A family of three and now possibly, back to a family of one. 

~ ~ ~ 

Minho didn’t pray. Not regularly. Not religiously. Not as much as he probably should. Life was always hectic and believing in a higher power, it never took up too much time in his life. 

In the hospital chapel, at first, he prayed; then he called his mom. 

She picked up on the third ring. A soft spoken voice that he’d found comfort in ever since he was a child. “Mom?” 

“Hi, honey! How is everything? Is it going well?” 

It broke him. Between the barren wooden pews, the stained glass windows, and the image of Jesus in the front of the altar, he burst into tears. He called out to his mother and his voice may have changed from childhood to puberty, but the need for his mother did not. 

On the opposite end of the phone, his mother frowned. She clutched the phone tighter and tried to get through her son’s grief. “Honey, what happened? What’s wrong? You’ve got to talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“S-she-” 

“Did something happen to your wife?” 

“Hemorrhaging.” 

“Oh, Minho.” 

Her words sent him into another sob that he couldn’t hold back. How many times had he tried to hold back his sobs as a kid? Back when he fell off the bike for the first time and hit the pavement. When he toddled along on stubby legs and unexpectedly hit the ground with a faint thud. 

Being a parent never ends, never fully. At least, it’s not supposed to. At the end of the day, that book always shut. Who disappears first? The parent or the child? No matter what, it always hurts. 

A sting that zaps your heart and buries into every part of your life. It strikes you at the wrong time. The mourning for your kid. The loss of a parent. It never goes away, not really. The years travel by and the hurt lessens, but it doesn’t mean it never aches. 

At that moment, his mother wished she could climb through the phone and hug him. It didn’t matter that he’d turned into a man. In her heart, he’d always be her baby. His cats were the closest thing she’d get to being around him all the time. 

You cannot keep your kid in a cage. You have to let them explore the world around them. Nurture them right and send them on their way. If your kid doesn’t learn how to navigate the outside world, they’ll never strengthen the wings to gain flight. If you do it right, they’ll come back. 

Like a pigeon, they’ll find their way back home. Chirping and hopping. Cooing with a new shiny thing. Stories about their career and new friends. A final love, a new family, something more that fills their heart, just the way that they’ve always filled yours. 

“I-I’m trying to stay positive, Mom. I’m so scared. What if-” 

“I know it’s scary, but I have to believe that she’ll overcome this.” 

“How do you know for sure?” 

“I believe it, the exact same way that I believed when your father and I had you.” 

~ ~ ~ 

Do not go gentle into that goodnight. 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

The memories flickered like the lash of a sudden spark. Flipping through clouded currents and forming in between static filled channels. You remember what life was like as a kid. You remember it all. 

The bright green grass and the way the butterfly wings flapped. The melodic sound of the ice cream truck and the way a late family member laughed at the sight of your sticky face. It dripped down your chin and coated your collar. 

The bees came by, betting on which one of them could taste the sweetness first. They never had a chance. Not when your mother whisked you away to wipe off the sticky remnants of another early summer. 

People filled the beach at the first lake you went to. They speckled up and down the sandy shore. Umbrellas stuck out to shield the harsh sunlight. It blinded your sensitive eyes as you rushed with arms up to meet the water. 

Your father called after you, warning you to be careful. You were still young. This much water all at once, it was still so new to you. Some unkept secret that some higher power stashed away. You remember the way the cool water hit your toes. Love grew in your bones and then you dived in. 

A conversation in passing that you had with your mother nearly a decade ago. Sitting beside her while she folded her laundry. You didn’t know where the words came from, but you blurted them out anyway. “I don’t know if I want kids.” 

“Oh, but you will. Having kids, it’s the most rewarding and best thing ever. When you have them, treat them right and they’ll always come back to you.” 

A familiar smile, the same eyes as you, and two decades older. I am all that you can be. You are what I could have been. Two separate generations can dream and conquer the same exact thing. 

In the winter snow, you flopped face down. Bundled in too many layers, brought to you proudly by your mother. Because if too much skin was exposed, you’d surely freeze to death. 

Minho’s eyes held you captive the first time you saw him. You always romanticized the idea of dating a singer. A singer. A song-writer. A dancer. 

Someone who jerks and throws their limbs out, creating a story in their own way. Words on a page, hidden inklings of their soul. The words unveil and pulse out into the world. A happy jingle. A devastating ballad. Whatever they sang, they always breathed life into the story behind the words. 

You never believed in love at first sight. Not really. Not until that moment. You tipped over and free fell into a vat of sticky syrup, but you didn’t fight against it. Minho’s wit sucked you in. Every talent unlocked, you began to think he was superhuman. 

Touching created sparks. No matter how minor, your heart banged like a drum. A never-ending current danced through your body with him. Your cheeks flushed red and even if he laughed at you, it never really mattered. 

The two of you had something special. Special enough to make that leap of faith to the altar. Two families became one. He forced his cats to make a brief appearance in cat sized tuxedos. You didn’t know why, but he did. 

Your laughter set his soul ablaze. With you, every mountain felt like a molehill. Your joy was his. He’d collect the stars and bottle them to help you find your way through the dark. He wasn’t a collector, but he wrote down every moment with you. 

Write the memories and trudge through the passage of time. Hand-in-hand, life felt better with you. Not just a partner, but a lover. Someone he could hold and mend. Whenever he didn’t feel good enough, he just looked over at you. 

From day one, your face never changed when you looked at him. A softness bloomed. Something sweeter, kinder, and simpler. You were his to keep forever, just as he was yours. 

The first cry of your baby before you blacked out, the sound of your husband telling you to fight, it powered something indescribable. Humans are capable of anything if they believe hard enough. Some call it pure delusion and some call it God. 

If there is a constant push of will, humans will always, always find a way. You found your way in that hospital room. Despite the blood oozing down the doctor’s gloves and staining the sheets, your heart kept beating. It weakened briefly, but it never stopped. 

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

~ ~ ~ 

When your eyes reopened, Minho was the first to grab your hand. Two tears slipped down his cheeks and rolled against the warmth of his neck. It was so unlike him, you had to look again to see if you were seeing it right. 

“Minho?” Your voice cracked. 

“It’s alright, I’ve got you. You’re okay. The doctor stabilized you and it’s okay now. Don’t worry, I’m right here.” 

“The baby?” 

“He’s okay, too. He’s on the other side of you sleeping. The doctor let him stay in the incubator right here. All his vitals are good. The only problem is that he lacks a name.” 

He slipped his hand into yours and gently squeezed it. He didn’t care about the bruising around his dominant hand. All he cared about was your safety and health. He reached the back of your palm to his lips and planted the warmth of a kiss. 

“You’re both okay?” 

He weakly chuckled and nodded. “Now that you’re okay, yes. We’re both okay. We’ve been waiting for you to come back to us. It’s time for us to be parents now.” 

“Minho?” You whispered as your eyes drooped. 

“Hm?” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“I’m scared too, but that’s okay. My mom said that it’s completely normal to be scared. If you’re scared and still trying your best, you’re probably doing it right, apparently.” 

“I love your mom.” 

“I love her, too.” 

A silence broke out in the space between you. Still exhausted from your brush against death, Minho couldn’t blame you for wanting to go back to sleep. He reached up and pushed a strand of hair from your forehead. 

“Have you held him?” 

His head shook. “I considered it, but you carried him in your stomach for nine months. I figured that you should be the first parent to hold him.” 

“Can you bring him to me?” 

“Doesn’t that mean I get to be the one to hold him first?” 

“I don’t care, I want to see our son.” 

He sighed and gently released your hand. “I have to warn you before I hand him over. He’s very, very cute. He has my eyes and your eyebrows.” 

“Does he have your prominent cupid's bow?” 

“If I said yes?” 

“I’d be the happiest person alive.” 

“You’ll be happy to hear that he does. He’s also completely bald and looks a little like an old man, but the nurses said that’s temporary.” 

Your eyes cracked open. You watched Minho gently scoop the newborn up from the incubator. The baby curled against his chest and he carefully brought him towards you. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that thought out loud.” 

“Look at the cute little hat. If I ask the guys, maybe they can purchase some cute beanies for his bald head. I can’t have him looking like Hyunjin. This little guy is the perfect size to put in the air fryer.” 

“If you air fry our son, I’m putting you in the oven.” 

“Fair enough.” He lowered himself down and carefully shimmied the baby into your awaiting arms. “There you go.” 

The moment he settled into your arms, a wave of peace hit you. A baby in your arms and Minho by your side. Your eyes shut before you began to speak. “Hi, we’re your parents.” 

“He needs an introduction to us?” 

“We can’t wait to raise you and have adventures.” 

“You came back from the dead and turned into a sap.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him and he gave you a smile. “I’m glad you came back. I love you, you know? I love both of you. Look at that, there’s two of you to love now.” 

“I love both of you, too.” 

“And a personality like Seungmin, the ungrateful kid can’t even say he loves us back.” 

“Lee Minho, if I wasn’t in a hospital bed recovering from giving birth, I’d kick your ass.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

While the two of them bickered, what they didn’t know was just merely a few feet away. In the doorway, Minho’s mother arrived with a bundle of brightly colored flowers in one hand and a thermos of warm seaweed soup in the other. She rushed here as fast as she could after Minho’s distressing phone call. 

She didn’t break the bond between the two of you. Instead, she blinked back tears. Years ago, a similar situation played out between her and Minho’s father. A new bundle of joy in her arms and a lifetime of the unexpected paved out before them. 

Just as they made it through the currents of life, so will Minho and you. Just as your son will. The next generation will follow and although it’ll always be difficult at times, time will march on. All the good meant to happen will find you. Always. 

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

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[vixensbrainrotts]

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: More Than I’ve ever imagined

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary: From morning sickness to belly lifts, Paige is by your side through it all.

Credits to @yailtsv and her mood board for the help of writing this

🏷️: @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @paigeluvvr

I knew Paige would be excited when we got the call confirming the IVF had worked, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how she reacted. She was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when I walked in holding the test results. The second I said, “It worked,” she jumped up so fast she nearly tripped over the coffee table.

“No way. No way. You’re serious?” Her eyes were wide, already glistening.

I nodded, and that was all it took. She lifted me off the ground, spinning us both around until I was laughing and begging her to put me down before I threw up for a different reason.

Morning sickness was hell.

But Paige? She was heaven-sent. No matter the time of day or night, if I was hunched over the toilet, she was right there with me—holding back my hair, rubbing slow circles into my back, and whispering soft encouragements.

“You got this, baby. I promise it won’t last forever,” she’d say, voice laced with concern. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here.”

She was always right there.

By the time we reached the second trimester, Paige and I were dying to know the gender, but I agreed to let her and Azzi handle the reveal. I should’ve known Paige would go over the top. The day of the baby shower/gender reveal, I walked into the venue thinking we were about to pop a balloon or cut a cake. What I did not expect was a giant box sitting in the center of the room.

“Paige,” I called out, suspicious. “Where are you?”

Azzi smirked but said nothing as she handed me a ribbon attached to the box.

“Go ahead,” she urged.

I pulled. The box flaps opened, and Paige—my ridiculous, over-the-top fiancée—popped out, beaming, with a sign that read “It’s a girl!” in sparkly pink letters. Her blonde hair? Completely dyed Sparkling Rosé pink.

“PAIGE!” I gasped, laughing in disbelief.

“Surprise!” she grinned. “I wanted to match our daughter.”

I couldn’t even be mad.

By the time my belly was really showing, I was struggling with the weight of it. My lower back constantly ached, and walking around all day was exhausting. Paige, with KK’s help, convinced me to let her do daily belly tapes and belly lifts. She took it so seriously—watching tutorials, making sure she didn’t pull too hard, and being extra careful when lifting my belly.

“You trust me, right?” she asked one evening, gently pressing the tape into place.

“Always,” I murmured, feeling the relief almost instantly.

The only thing we ever argued about during the pregnancy was my body pillow.

Paige hated it with a passion.

“That thing is evil,” she grumbled one night, glaring at it from her side of the bed.

“Paige, it helps me sleep,” I reasoned.

She rolled her eyes. “I can help you sleep. Just use me instead.”

I laughed it off—until one night when I felt absolutely miserable and couldn’t sleep no matter how much I tossed and turned. Paige, sensing my discomfort, took the body pillow away, tossing it to the floor.

“C’mere, baby,” she whispered, pulling me against her.

She guided one of my legs over her waist, acting as my human body pillow, and started rubbing soft, soothing patterns into my back.

“Relax,” she murmured. “I got you.”

That night, for the first time in weeks, I slept soundly. From then on, I didn’t even reach for the body pillow—I had Paige, and she was so much better.

The day of the birth was intense. Paige never left my side, holding my hand through every contraction, whispering sweet reassurances even when I wanted to scream. When our daughter, Zara Rosé, was finally in my arms, Paige let out a soft, choked laugh, brushing a tear from her eye.

“She’s perfect,” she whispered.

Neither of us could settle on a name at first, so we let the team decide. It only took an hour of chaotic group chat discussions before Zara Rosé Bueckers was officially chosen.

⸻

Two Years Later

Paige and I had kept Zara out of the public eye, choosing to enjoy our little family privately. It wasn’t until one of Ice’s Instagram Lives that everything changed.

I was braiding Ice’s hair while she answered fan questions, Paige lounging off-camera with Zara sitting on her lap, watching a show on Paige’s iPad.

One moment, everything was normal. The next, Zara turned to Paige and asked, clear as day, “Mommy, juice please?”

Silence.

Ice looked at me, eyes wide. Paige looked at me. I looked at the camera.

The chat exploded.

“Mommy???”

“Paige got a BABY?!”

“Y’ALL HID A WHOLE CHILD??”

I sighed, setting Ice’s hair down. “Welp.”

Paige groaned. “So much for keeping it quiet.”

At that point, there was no denying it. We confirmed it live, explaining why we kept Zara private and how we wanted to enjoy our time as parents before sharing her with the world.

To our relief, most fans were understanding.

That night, after Ice’s hair was done, Paige and I made it official with a simple Instagram post—a picture of Zara asleep between us with the caption:

“Worth every secret. 💞✨ #ZaraRosé”

⸻

As I lay in bed that night, Paige wrapped an arm around me, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder.

“You happy?” she murmured.

I turned to face her, brushing a strand of newly dyed pink hair from her face. Only cause Zara begged for her to have pink hair.

“More than I’ve ever imagined.”

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[fyuyushia]

"I hear the preacher say 'speak now or forever hold your peace.' There's the silence, there's my last chance—I stand up with shaky hands all eyes on me. Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I'm only looking at you." — Speak now

Somebody take me away from this man actually I can't stop my hands from writing. Not proofread btw..

Word count: 3303

You stared idly at your reflection from the mirror. Dressed from top to bottom in accessories you found much too excessive and face covered with make-up, you looked beautiful.

You weren't much for complimenting yourself, but you had to give credit to the one who did your makeup. They've erased every flaw so seamlessly, elevating your appearance to the point you almost couldn't recognize yourself. The dress, along with the headpiece and accessories that made up your entire look was frustratingly gorgeous. Meticulously designed, it was made to fit you, accentuating your body in the best way possible.

And you, who wore it with a grim look hated everything about it.

What use was dolling yourself up to these heights when the one you'll marry isn't the one you wanted?  

Forcing yourself to look away from the mirror, your arms embrace yourself as you seek solace to stop the tears from spilling. You tilt your head up, willing the tears to dry with a futile fan of your hands. You can't cry now, your make up's gonna be ruined before you even walk down the aisle.

You cursed yourself in frustration, nothing was going your way. When has it ever have?

If you had it your way, then right now, you would be spending your time combing your fingers through the ebony hairs of the man you loved fiercely with your entire being. You'd lean close to him, whisper sweet nothings and pepper his face with kisses, allowing your lips to meet the smooth expanse of his skin with gentleness that borderlined reverence.

If you had it your way, you'd be standing next to the rising hunter, Sung Jinwoo.

Instead, you're met with the harsh reality of the business world and ripped apart from him right when he needed you most. You wept for the heartbreak that left you in tatters, though your father praised you for your obedience that showcased your loyalty to your family, his words only served to be daggers that dug deeper at your heart with every point made.

As the world swiftly changed its course to make way for the new phenomenon called gates which summoned forth destructive beings to wreck havoc in your world, the hunters quickly took the spotlight from previously dominating figures. With the existence of the game changing mana crystals and monster loot, businesses that have once dominated the market soon fell off as more and more adapted to the change.

The rule in the business world states that the one who adapts the slowest loses. Your family was one of the losers, unable to swim with the tides that came too quickly for the company to stay relevant. Forced to pull every card in the arsenal, your father finally managed to get a favorable alliance with one of the more well known companies.

The deal? You get married with the heir of said business.

Turns out the heir had been eyeing you since he first saw you at a social gathering and reached out with the 'kindness' from his heart and offered to help you out with the small price of being unionized with him. Hah, what a load of bull. You knew full well just how ugly his personality was, a douchebag like him had no room for kindness in his heart.

You bit your lip, cursing your fate. Why would nothing ever go the way you want it to go? Was such a simple wish truly that difficult to grant?

You flutter your eyes shut, barely holding in the tears that threatened to cascade down your cheeks. Your hands run over the fabric of your wedding gown, squeezing it tightly as your mind conjures up an image of your (ex)lover. His messy black hair that, more often than not, looked like a bird's nest, his wide grey eyes that gleamed with hope despite all the suffering the world had made him go through, his lips that always settled in a bright grin, positivity brimming through and forcing a smile on your own lips as well, and his calloused hands that contrasted his meek demeanor, speaking loudly of his experience that were far from comfortable.

You were hopelessly in love with him, hopelessly smitten for the man who had nothing to his name.

Such a name, you figured, no longer suited him now after he made it to the news and was revealed to be Korea's 10th S-rank hunter after his second re-awakening. Shortly after you left, Sung Jinwoo grew leagues better. His frame grew bigger, taller, and his face became lethal as well. A sharp jawline that could easily cut houses in two(exaggeration), and a face that might as well have been the god's best work yet, he was every bit the dreamboat that women wanted. You had to admit, even you were weak to his charms.

You breathed out a sigh, all this thinking about Jinwoo had dampened your mood and forced you to think about things you thought you'd forgotten. As always, right when you thought you were on the verge of moving on, his memory pops up and you're back to square one again, tripping on your feet and pining once more for the man you had to let go.

"Jinwoo..."

"I'm here." A soothing baritone whispered beside you, his breath hitting the back of your ear.

You freeze, not expecting company. Turning around on your heel, your eyes widens when you're met with Sung Jinwoo's face—someone you've only seen once ever since your hasty break up.

"Jinwoo?" You repeat, no longer as sad but moreso surprised.

His lips quirk up, allowing a small smile to grace his features. He nods, taking a step back to set some space between the both of you. You gasp, mind overflowing with questions that seeped into your face without your notice. What was he doing here and how?

"What're you—" you pause, not too eager in asking that question. Staring at his features that greatly differed from the Jinwoo you once knew, your eyes soften. "Can I hug you?"

He pulls you into his arms wordlessly shortly after you finished muttering your request, easily closing off the distance that he himself placed. Burying your face against his chest, his fingers brush against the back of your head in a soothing rhythm.

"You don't even have to ask."

As your body gets pressed against his own sturdy build, your initial stiffness soon melts at the presence of someone who has once(and still is) been a safe haven for you. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you nuzzle against his chest, simply wanting to bask in this moment.

You knew this was wrong, clinging onto him when you're already promised to another would only make things harder for you. Still, you sought his comfort more than any other. In the end, there was no getting rid of him in your thoughts. A part of you wondered what exactly he was doing here, but you were scared to ask, afraid that you'd ruin the magic of the moment.

You flutter your eyes shut, releasing a shaky exhale. He smelled of sandalwood and mountain air, a scent that you always associated with comfort, with him.

The both of you simply stood in silence, tangled in each other's arms. You clung onto him tightly, afraid he'd disappear if you let him go for even just millisecond. Jinwoo doesn't mind your reluctance to let go, pulling you closer despite already being the closest he could get.

"I can't let go of you, Jinwoo. I—I still...love you."

Your voice comes out as a whisper, barely hearable. Jinwoo hears it nonetheless, thanks to his heightened perception, and his lips curl into what seemed like a sad smile. He hums, the sound making his chest rumble in turn.

"I know."

"You fool—why couldn't you have reawakened sooner? If you did I wouldn't have... We could have still been what we once were."

"I know, I'm sorry."

You punched his chest repeatedly, pulling away from him to give room to your fists. You grit your teeth, it's not his fault, you knew that. It's not his fault, but hearing his chaste answers had made you want to keep talking, keep blaming him despite knowing in your head and in your heart that he wasn't the one in the wrong.

Weren't you the problem? You couldn't even fight for him, didn't even try. In the end, you agreed all too easily to your father, gave up on this love out of fear of angering your father. It was your fault, you were the one who didn't even bother to fight for this.

The thought nearly made you sob.

Jinwoo, noticing your spiraling emotions, quickly puts an end to it with a few touches.

Bringing a hand up to your cheek, he cups it gently and tilts it up to meet him in the eye. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, urging you to look at him which you do. Your eyes glimmer with unshed tears, one word alone would probably make you bawl your eyes out.

His lips curls into a frown. Pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head, he effectively stops your constant stream of light punches against his chest.

"Tell me, sarang" he begins softly, and god, the way he uttered the endearment so lovingly had you melting completely. "Do you want me to break off this wedding?"

His words reel you back to reality. You blink, confused by his words. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you think I mean. Will you give us a chance?"

You furrow your brows. Did he truly mean that? You stared him in the eye, catching the way his eyes glowed a faint purple. Words die down on your throat, and you settle with a nod of your head.

You steel your eyes, fingers squeezing the fabric of the cloth he wore. "Take me away, I don't want to be with anyone but you, Jinwoo."

Your words seemed to be the final nail in the coffin. He parts from you with one last kiss, this time, on the side of your lips.

"Then just wait for me."

That was what Jinwoo said a few hours ago before disappearing into obscurity. Now, as the ceremony neared a close, your eyes hastily scanned around the chapel in search of the familiar face of the man who had somehow snuck in your room just moments ago.

Your fingers trembled, threatening to let go of the bouquet you held in your hands. The preacher's words were nothing but white noise, unable to focus as your mouth let out practiced answers whenever you were asked to promise something.

Scanning the room one more time, your heart sank once you find no signs of the man. Has what happened earlier just been a figment of your imagination? Did you long to escape this marriage so much you fantasized about your ex showing up and whisking you away?

“If anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You held your breath, squeezing the bouquet until your knuckles grew white from the force you exerted. Squeezing your eyes shut, you pursed your lips together and prayed—hoped for someone to stop this wedding before you would become truly bound to this man you could care less about.

"I do."

Loud gasps echoed throughout the chapel, murmurs exchanged as they all collectively stared at the only man who raised in opposition to the marriage. You open your eyes, lips quivering as it tries to stop a smile.

For once, something in your life has gone right. You swallow thickly, finding Jinwoo standing beside Jinho. Lowering his arm, he crosses it above his chest and stares down the groom with a challenging glare.

"Is that Sung Jinwoo? The S-rank hunter?"

"No way! You mean the one who single-handedly cleared that S-rank gate in Japan?"

"That Sung Jinwoo? What's he doing here?"

You ignored the whispers of the crowd, gaze transfixed on Jinwoo. Walking straight down the aisle, he shifts his eyes to meet with the preacher, and then to you.

"That woman," he turns to face your direction. "Is mine."

Another round of dramatic gasps resounded, the guests watching everything unfold, drinking in the entertainment down to the last drop.

Jinwoo's eyes soften as he mentions you. Extending his arm, he stretches out a hand for you to take. "Come with me?"

"Jinwoo!"

Dropping the bouquet, it fell to the ground with a soft thud. You turned your head, then your body. Walking down the stairs, you had the full intention to run to his arms. However, you were stopped before you could even take the third step.

A hand circles around your wrist, preventing you from going further. You click your tongue, met with your groom's face when you looked at who was holding you back.

"Young man, I fear you need more than jus—" a cold glare renders the priest shut.

"Don't be ridiculous! She's yours? I'm the one she's getting married with!" The groom seethes, harshly tugging you back to stand beside him.

You winced, glaring daggers at him. "I—"

"Shut up! You forget yourself, if it wasn't for me your company would've gone under a long time ago! You're not going anywhere."

You flinch at the aggression in his words. Still, you don't back down. "Let go of me!"

"After everything I've done—all those gifts this is how you treat me? Do you know how much I spent on you?!"

"I never asked you to send me those gifts. You forced them upon me!"

"Why you—"

"Rest assured, I'll pay you back for everything you spent on her." Sung Jinwoo, all of a sudden, stood between the two of you.

Peeling away the man's iron-clad grip on your wrist, he slides an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. You flinched, bemused by how quickly he got here but didn't push him away.

"I'm ever so grateful for you taking care of her when I couldn't. I don't forget to pay back those I owe a favor to. I'll pay for everything, every single dime they owe you so she won't have to follow through this deal, don't worry, great and malevolent samaritan." His hold on the man's wrist tightened, exerting the same pressure he used when he was stopping you from running to his arms. "But I also don't forget anyone who's wronged me or the ones I love."

"I'm warning you, if you lay even one finger on them then I'll hunt you to the depths of hell and make you crave death more than anything else."

His eyes glowed lavender, allowing you and anyone in the room a glimpse of the hunter that had defeated powerful beasts alone. Shivers ran down your spine at the sight of this.

Cold, vengeful, and menacing—the fact that he really became such a powerful hunter finally dawned on you.

The man—your groom—wriggled against his grasp, unable to bear the burden of being pinned in place by Jinwoo's glare. He whimpered, legs quaking in fear.

When Jinwoo saw fit to let him go, he immediately fell on his butt. Scrambling for purchase, he then proceeded to grasp on a nearby pillar. Holding onto it, he steadied himself enough to stand up and make a run for it. The crowd fell into a deafening silence, each and everyone of them reluctant to even breath after witnessing the short exchange that just occurred.

Even you were rendered speechless. You peered up at him; gone was the timid boy who avoided confrontation like the plague. Instead, what replaced him was a man who wasn't afraid of raising a blade in the name of protecting the few people he cherished.

You watched his features relax. Taking a deep breath, he turns to face you, his attitude doing a whole 180 the moment it was you he was dealing with.

"Did I scare you? Sorry, I didn't mean to."

You blinked, snapped out of your daze when his eyes faded into the grey eyes you recognized to be his. The way he looked at you was soft, a direct contrast to the sharp glare he pointed to the man who just ran away with their tail tucked between their legs.

"Huh? Ah, no! You—you didn't scare me or anything like that." You cleared your throat, heart thrumming.

He breathes out a sigh of relief. Straightening his posture, he moves to a more comfortable stance. "Is that so? That's great, I wouldn't want to scare you."

Bringing you to a hug, your body stiffens up in response. Cheeks flushing, you found yourself still reeling from the shock of it all.

"You—you're here." You say, more to yourself than to him. "You're really here."

"Yes, I'm really here. I promised to take you away, didn't I?"

The tears that you held back finally came running down your eyes, tear ducts unable to hold back anymore.

"I know, but," you sniffled, "I didn't expect you to actually come. I half expected you to be nothing more than a simple hallucination."

Jinwoo chuckles. "That's ridiculous."

Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. All those pent up feelings came crashing down like a dam, and you couldn't find it in you to stop it.

"It's alright now, I'm here." He tucks a finger below your chin and tilts it up to face him. "Let's go somewhere else? There's somewhere I've been wanting to take you to when I finally got through you."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Will you really take me back? Even after I broke your heart once?"

His hands wrap around your waist in turn. "Of course, I'd still love you even if you thrust a dagger at my heart and twisted it."

You frown. "You really shouldn't."

"And yet I would." Came his reply.

"I'm sorry, I love you." You cupped his face with your hands, holding it delicately like it was porcelain.

His eyes narrowed, a grin forming on his normally thinly lined lips. Pulling you close, his lips met yours with a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, reciprocating it with tears still pouring out of your eyes.

"Let's go, we've no time to waste."

You nod, allowing yourself to be pulled along by his hold.

"Ah, before that," he halts in his tracks. Facing the priest in charge, his smile quickly drops as he confirms one thing. "I trust that this marriage's been called off?"

The priest shivers, flinching when his eyes go back to it's cold disposition. "I—I—of course!"

He clears his throat, stammering as he ends the ceremony abruptly. "I must respectfully declare that, due to the objection raised, this wedding cannot continue at this time. This ceremony is concluded for today. I ask for everyone's understanding and respect when it comes to this matter."

Sung Jinwoo nods approvingly at the priest's hasty dismissal. Squeezing your hand, he takes you out of the chapel, donning a gentle demeanor as he turns his attention to you once more.

"Let's go, sarang. We have a lot of time to make up for."

You could only nod and return his smile with a wider one. As the crowd stands still, speechless from the fast paced event, you had already disappeared into the distance, willingly whisked away by the S rank hunter everyone feared and thought to be ruthless.

A few days later, the wedding makes it to the headlines. The mass soaked up the news like sponge to water, excitedly talking about the love story-esque event that took the whole media by the storm. News spread fast, and that day soon became an iconic event that everyone would remember whenever they think of Jinwoo and his beloved lover.

[jo-com]

🪐⋆｡°✩ ➛ Latter Option

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: Finding out that you were never his first choice. Genre: Angst and a little bit of SMAU Note: Finally back to writing. Like always there are grammatical errors and this is not proofread, Hope you enjoy!! Fc: Madison Beer

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˚.⛰️⋆☁️ ─ ───────

F1.UPDS

Liked by 12,098 others

F1.UPDS BREAKING NEWS! 🚨 F1 Star Charles Leclerc Caught Proposing? 💍

Rumors are swirling as Ferrari’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc, was reportedly seen down on one knee, proposing to his girlfriend, Y/N L/N! 🔥 Fans went wild after spotting a dazzling ring on her finger. 💎 Could wedding bells be ringing soon? Stay tuned for more exclusive details! 🏎️💨

Tagged: @Charles_Leclerc, @Yn.nn_

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User WHAAATTT OMGG

User MY PARENTSS🥹🥹

User i will cry if this isn’t real

Yn.nn_ 👀👀👀

User NO FUVKIN WAYYY

User She knows what she’s doing

User CRYING IN LONELINESS

User FINALLYYY

User wait what about valorie?

User who?

User the girl before y/n

User I thought they were just friends🤷🏻‍♀️

...

Yn.nn_

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Lilyhme, and 1,698,409 others

Yn.nn_ 4lifers🤞🏻

Tagged: @Charles_Leclerc

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Charles_Leclerc Forever and ever💞

Yn.nn_ 🤭

Scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️

User I CANT BELIEVE ITS FINALLY HAPPENING

User WOWOWWOWOW

Lilyhme Dibs on made of honor!

Sistersusername excuse me?

Lilyhme i called dibs…

Carlossainz55 congrats amigos🥳🎉

…

The smile on your face tugged even wider as you read along all the supportive and happy banters that were left by many adoring people. It was never your guys' intention to let people know of the recent engagement but since some paparazzi leaked it, might as well announce it at your own volition.

There were even some people were calling out the fact that the wedding was happening “too soon” or them saying “you guys are too early into the relationship.” Little do the others know, you and Charles share a history that stretches back further than they could ever imagine. Since your senior days, you have been inseparable—his best friend, his confidante. And through the years, as laughter turned to late-night talks and fleeting glances became something deeper, your heart has belonged to him. You've been madly in love with Charles ever since, carrying that secret like a quiet flame, burning only for him.

As you swiped further down millions of post, One particular comment caught your eye-- as soon as you read the following, you felt a familiar pang run across the veins of your chest.

You didn't expect to see her name about a post between you and charles, but seeing it appear out of the blue adds an uneasy feeling of discomfort cloud your mind.

Maybe it's nothing? They mentioned something about being friends so that has to be it, Just friends right?

You thought to yourself-- giving close ended assurance just to keep your mind at ease.

...

Days passed by and everything seemed to be going so well lately. Your once crazed overthinking quickly withered when Charles took you out on a date, just because he missed you-- though he was with you the day before yesterday.

It was a gesture that made your heart filled with endless warmth and put your mind at rest.

But as the saying goes, 'Nothing good lasts forever' and no one is an exception.

...

You ➛ Lily

…

A quiver left pass your lips as you red along the text between you and your friend. Each word hung to your mind like a parasite.

If what she's saying is true then.. Have you been the second option all along? But who would be this cruel to play your feelings just like that. You knew Charles had a thing for Valorei, but he comforted you countless times that it was nothing.

You threw your phone to the side as you frantically wiped the tears that unknowingly slide down your cheeks. Was this some kind of sick joke?

A lot of unanswered questions waved your thoughts-- and only one person could answer.

...

That's all for now, mainly because this draft have been here for months now and i kinda forgot how it goes but i assure y'all that i will be uploading more fr!!