#those things used to make me feel so sick and cry for hours and hours

[cosmicalily]

"till you tell me to leave" - a bangchan oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i found a half-written draft for this in my old google docs with my other email account and immediately knew i needed to do a rewrite.

warnings: angst (breakup, exes to lovers)

Three days, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes.

Four days.

Four days and one minute.

Another sleepless night. You didn’t mean to count the minutes, but your eyes remained fixated on your phone, half watching the clock, half staring at the lock screen you’d neglected to change.

Everything around you brought back floods of memories that you didn’t want to deal with. Pictures from photo booths, his arm slung around your shoulder, his hand on your cheek, his lips pressed to your forehead. The one hoodie you’d managed to hold onto, even after he’d packed all his other belongings up when he left. The pre-workout he kept in the back of your pantry. His toothbrush in your bathroom drawer. 

He’d been yours in every way, and you’d been his.

Maybe this was why you’d been so scared to love your best friend; you knew that more came with risk, chances of slamming doors, crying each other's names, and duffle bags hastily filled.

Even when you’d ended things, why were you still writing pages, when he’d been the one to close the envelope? Why were you spending hours nestled on the couch in his hoodie, staring at a black tv screen, unaware of the world around you?

new message from 'channie'

i think i left my hoodie at yours. you home?

i’m driving over.

A part of you wanted to run into the bathroom, brush your hair, remove the two-day old mascara on your eyes and change into something nice. A part of you remembered he’d seen you in every single form, and he loved you regardless. 

He used to tell you how beautiful you were every minute of the day, even when you felt anything but. Did he miss saying those things now? Or did he have another girl to call his angel, his baby, his darling? 

Just the thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

new message from 'channie'

outside.

Taking a deep breath and slipping on your sneakers, you began walking down the hallway of your apartment building. Even though the elevator wasn’t broken for once, you wanted to take the stairs. You needed time to think, and time to turn back if you felt the need.

Why were you so easily coming to him? Well, technically you weren’t, were you? He wanted his hoodie back, presumably the one you were currently wearing.

He’d broken your heart. No, not broken. Slowly tugged at it, until nothing that remained was a dull ache and your pulse.

You thought about turning back, about yelling in his face, about simply bursting into tears and curling up into a ball at the bottom of the staircase, until your neighbour came and yelled at you for disturbing everyone’s sleep at 12:29am.

You thought about these things, but you never felt like acting on them.

What was the point, anyway?

You never would have meant it.

You spotted his familiar black car, the scratch on the bottom from when he’d practised parallel parking, the Sharpie stars you’d drawn with him whilst drunk on his windscreen. You felt your heart swell a little, and even more so when the figure inside the vehicle turned his head to look directly into your eyes.

In silence, you walked over and sat down in the passenger seat, doing your best to look at everything but him. He nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and started the engine. He looked down at your torso, noticing his hoodie, but didn’t make a move to retrieve it. You didn’t attempt to take it off.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audibly.

“Hm?”

“Your seatbelt isn’t on,” you replied.

“I was in a rush.”

There was a sudden quiet. The click of his seatbelt, then yours, then the gentle hum of the car as he began to drive.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I left,” Chris finally said softly, eyes focused on the road ahead.

You ignored him. You didn’t really know where he was taking you, and you honestly couldn’t care less. He almost felt like a stranger. A stranger you’d poured your heart out to, and spent hours with, pressing kisses to each other's faces whilst watching movies, watching work out in the gym, cooking food for and dancing while doing the dishes with. A stranger who had been the vast majority of your firsts, who knew your body like the back of his hand, and spent long minutes in the latest and earliest hours loving you, worshipping you.

A stranger who’d been your everything.

As you drove in silence, apart from the soft rhythm of his playlist in the background, his hand found its way to yours, and gently caressed your fingers, as if asking for permission.

You allowed your palm to open.

His fingers tucked into yours, and his thumb brushed against your hand. 

His hand felt warm, familiar. His fingertips were calloused; a result of the way he gripped his pen when he frantically wrote his lyrics late at night.

The car slowed down, then stopped completely. He’d pulled over on the side of a road, in the middle of nowhere. It was ghostly silent, and the trees cast shadows through the headlights.

It was oddly comforting.

“I fucked up.”

“I know you did, Chris.”

He covered his face in his hands in frustration, letting go of yours in the process. Your hand felt a sudden coldness.

“I didn’t . . . I don’t know why I left you. I nearly called you, right after I left. I thought . . . I thought you’d want space, thought I shouldn’t have to put you through anymore. And you were getting fed up with me, I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.”

“I was still in love with you.”

“Was? Past tense?”

“I still love you. I didn’t necessarily fall out of love, Chris, I just . . . I felt like I lost a part of me. Everything felt familiar and distant at the same time, and there were traces of you everywhere. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I can never sleep.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been sleeping even less since I left. The bed’s cold.”

“Same with mine.”

You paused, staring at each other. Chris faced you properly.

“I’m still in love with you. And I’ll try forever if it means I can make you fall again.”

You smiled a little, letting your hand trail up his arm and wrap around his shoulders, resting your face in his warm neck. His hands moved to your waist, moving under his hoodie and settling on your bare skin.  “We should probably get some sleep,” you mumbled into him.

“Your place?”

“Our place. I still have your toothbrush, I think. And more than one of your hoodies.”

“Even if you don't, it doesn't matter,” Chris replied, clasping your hand in his again and gesturing to the backseat. His duffle bag sat there, zipped up, seemingly untouched since he’d left. “I’m coming home. If you’ll let me, of course.”

“You won’t leave?”

“Not unless you say so.”

“So never?”

“Never.”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[lilworms]

sometimes i remember traumatic moments in my life and i’m kind of stunned by how detached i am from them now

[evie-sturns]

Sorry - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you and matt have been bickering the whole day, but one thing that comes out of his mouth accidentally makes you cry.

contains: arguing, crying, comforting, fluff.

---------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘---------------

matt and i have spent the day out together, but hes been snapping at me for the smallest things. i've just brushed it off, i decided hes just tired and needs to get home.

"ready to go matt?" i ask, squeezing his hand as i heave myself up off the chairs in the mall.

"mhm.." matt hums, shutting off his phone and sitting up.

the loud chatter from crowds of people in the shopping center echos through my ears. matt walks ahead of me, i follow close behind as he walks through the double doors out into the parking lot.

he unlocks the car before letting himself in, shutting the car door behind him. "jesus" i mutter under my breath before opeing the passenger side and jumping in.

"so what should we get for dinner tonight?" i question, breaking the painfully loud silence.

"don't know" he replies quietly, his voice monotone.

"i could make us something?" i say, tapping my fingers on my leg as matt pulls out onto the street.

"sure." he responds with a slight nod of his head.

the rest of the car ride is silent, matt grips the steering wheel with both hands, taking sharp turns towards home.

"matt..?" i ask quietly,

"mhm" he mutters back,

"are you upset with me?" i say, my voice soft as i look directly on the road ahead.

"nope" matt sighs as he pulls into our garage.

i nod silently as he opens the door of the drivers side, he slams the door shut behind him and walking into the house. he doesnt even bother letting me out of the car, let alone leave the door to the house open.

i sit in the car for about a minute in silence, trying to think about what is actually pissing matt off today

i get out of the car and walk up the concrete stairs to our house, i approach the door to matt and i's bedroom, the door handle rattles before swinging open.

matt is sitting on his desk chair, scrolling on his phone. he doesn't even look up at me as i flop down on the bed.

i grab my airpods off our bedside table, accidentally knocking matts cup of coffee which has been marinating on the table for several hours.

the mug hits the wooden floor, the porcelain shattering and coffee painting the wooden planks.

i look up at matt, "shit-"

"can you actually fucking stop?" matt says, almost disgusted by me.

"you've been so annoying all day and i'm so sick of it. stop." he continues.

he stares directly into my eyes as those words exit his mouth.

i usually wouldn't cry if anyone said this to me, but today it feels so personal. they way hes been so uninterested in me, and now he says this to my face?

my eyes water as matt maintains eye contact, my bottom lip trembles as my throat feels like its practically closing in.

a loud sob exits my mouth as tears instantly start to stream down my face, my shoulders slouched and bouncing up and down as i stand infront of matt.

"you're being mean now matt" i say in between shaky breaths.

he stands in shock in front of me for a few seconds before grabbing me and pulling me into a passionately tight hug, he holds my head as i feel his hands shake slightly as he takes deep breaths.

after a few seconds i pull away from the hug "look at me, please" matt says, his voice soft as his mouth parts slightly.

i look up at him, my face drenched in tears. he bends over and picks me up, holding me up around his waist by my thighs.

he sits down on the bed with me, i'm sitting on his lap, almost straddling him as he sits back against the headboard.

"please don't cry, i promise i didn't mean to make you cry im so sorry-" matt rambles on, panic in his voice.

"i've been a proper dickhead today i don't know whats wrong with me i am so sorry"

i nod, he takes the sides of my face in his ringed hands, "i am so, so grateful to have you. i have been so tired recently and i've only been getting three or four hours of sleep a night because of nick, chris and is schedule for the past few weeks and its taken a toll on me"

"and its not your fault, nothing is okay?" he finishes, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction.

i nod "thank you", matt takes his hand and casually wipes the snot from under my nose.

"can you please give me a smile sweetheart?" he asks, his hands finally dropping slowly from the sides of my face down to my palms.

i wipe my eyes and give matt a somewhat ugly smile, matts face lights up "there she is" he smiles "gorgeous girl."

he taps my waist "do you want a shower?" he asks, its been a 'tradition' that matt and i have a shower together mosts nights.

"yeah" i smile warmly at matt, he sits up, picking me up off his lap and carrying me into his bathroom.

he sets me down on my feet and helps me get my clothes off, he follows, his clothes in a neat pile by the door.

i turn on the shower up to a high heat, the steam fogging the room.

matt steps in, "holy shit- i know i've been an asshole but do i deserve to be scolded alive- fuck." he laughs, his eyes scrunching and his wide grin plastered on his face.

"its nice!" i joke back, matt steps in again, trying to keep a straight face. "oh my god-" he whispers with a smile as he turns down the water temperature. "matt!!" i whine, slapping him lightly with a smirk "i had to" he says, reaching for the shampoo and squeezing it into his hand.

he rubs the shampoo into my hair, a comfortable silence fills the bathroom along with the sweet smell of strawberry shampoo.

suddenly matt breaks the silence,

"for the record, i did enjoy the mall with you earlier sweetheart, and i'm sorry i ruined it for you."

"awh matt, its okay i go to the mall every 2 days anyway." i coo back at him with a cheeky smile.

---------------------------

matts smile btw in the shower heat cause i thought it was cute

[thebestsetter]

He has never been afraid of dying.

Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).

Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.

Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.

"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"

He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before

"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.

"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."

How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!

"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).

He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.

He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.

Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.

And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.

"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"

And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"

Masterlist

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! what is this? boyfriend material.

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴡ��ᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴘᴛ. 𝟷

✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: fluff, gn!reader, no pronouns but there are a few 'fem coded' things referenced like make up or skirts, aged-up!characters, established relationships, pet names, kissing, groping, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread so many times so if there’s a typo ill cry ✿ ─ notes: this is my first post ♪(´▽｀) i haven't written stuff like this in a pretty long time so bear with me ‹𝟹 this is some hybrid of headcanon and drabble idk

ISAGI YOICHI is a full-fledged bonafide simp...

he suffers from tragic a condition. when he’s not trying? flirting supreme panty dropper. however, when he tries to flirt with someone he likes? bro is fumbling. at first he seems like such an instant charmer. hes a classic gentleman, great listener, and super attractive. but the second he gets an inkling of a crush, he ruins it for himself. stuttering and getting his words mixed up, saying the most embarrassing jumbled combination of what he actually meant to.

follows you around to all your tasks because how else would he spend his free time except hanging with his baby. to sephora, to the grocery store, to the salon, the the ends of the earth if that's where you're heading that day. more than happy to hold onto your hand as you go about your business, rambling about global soccer statistics and looking at you like you hold the world. yoichi is a prideful purse holder too, his arms and pockets and car being full of your belongings makes him insanely happy for some reason he can’t put his finger on. always ready to press the lip gloss you’re patting yourself down for into the palm your hand, taking a kiss as payment.

he’s bad at planning dates, so don’t put him in charge unless you want to be late to a reservation at a restaurant 2 hours away with mediocre food. he’s good at paying for them though!! the dates he does get to plan are usually to the mall. what can i say, man likes to spoil you.

at the mall isagi can kind of trick you. because typically if he were to offer to buy you a couple hundred dollars worth of things, you would absolutely refuse. buttt if its just one thing from this store and one thing from another, and maybe its the fact that you dont feel the weight of all the items as your boyfriend carries it all, but it flies under your radar. and at some point you look at yoichi… and he has a lot of shopping bags. surely some of those were his right? the little pleased love sick smile on his face says otherwise.

its so worth it to isagi tho. he gets to spend time with you, make you happy, be a doting bf. but it also means that he can pick out clothes for you. as generous as he was, he could be a bit of a greedy gifter - never leaving the mall without a new skirt of his choosing. will personally pick out a pile of things he wants you to try on just for him.

once youre with isagi for a few months, he reveals his true colors. man is a serial PDA offender. he just thinks you’re so pretty, and it gives him such an ego boost to be the guy by your side. better hold his hand or its going in your back pocket. leans in under the guise of giving you a quick, generally acceptable peck on the lips… but all of a sudden he wants another before you even fully pull away from the first and its all downhill from there. sits on your side of the table at restaurants instead of across from you so he can rest his hand on your thigh and sneak in small squeezes when he thinks youre not paying attention. and be careful about walking in front of him, he’s not strong enough to resist the urge to smack your ass.

if the PDA thing wasnt a dead give away, isagi is just very affectionate in general, honestly has a hard time leaving you alone when you’re in the same room as him. he just gravitates towards you no matter what he was previously doing. very easily distracted, very easy to bribe. he’s the type of guy where when he goes to get out of bed in the morning to go to practice, and you cling to him and ask him for just 5 more minutes, theres nothing that could stop him from sinking right back into your arms. his attendance record has definitely suffered because he is unable to deny you a single thing you ask for, especially if that thing is him.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is taken and makes sure everyone knows it…

hyoma’s partner very quickly becomes his best friend if they weren’t before they started dating. it’s not even intentional, but he gets very quickly attached to you. sure, he has a decent amount of friends, but none of them know him like you do. he loves to hear you talk about your life, invested in your daily drama and indulging you with all of his. he likes to hear your input and insights on situations. he takes notes in his phone when he sees things he thinks you would like, or conversations he had that he wants to tell you about. forever surprised by how much he misses you when you’re apart, chigiri is used to not needing anyone the way he needs you. is so much grumpier at matches that have him go abroad without you, texting you often throughout the day, whenever he can get his hands on his phone.

because you’re now his best friend and partner, chigiri’s a bit tied to you at the hip, but he would never admit to being clingy. not that you mind, hanging out with him is fun and surprisingly intimate. he never fails to hold your hand wherever you go or throw an arm around your shoulder. on dates he’ll lean in close to your ear to whisper little observations and jokes about the people around, the two of you sharing witty comments and secretive snickers behind your hands. when hanging out with mutual friends, the way yours eyes meet his wordlessly, both holding the same micro expression, indistinguishable to other people, that says “we are so talking about that later”.

speaking of clinging to your side, hyoma can have a bit of a possessive streak at times. i feel like it’s something you don’t really expect of him until there’s a guy flirting with you in a store. the way your boyfriend is at your side before you can even answer, standing at his full height, squaring his shoulders with a sour look on his face, not at all shy about the way his arm snakes around your waist. “they’re not interested.” he states plainly, as if it were obvious, but if you payed close attention to him (which you always did), you would notice the distasteful curl of his lip or the venom seeping into his tone or the way his usually gentle fingers hold onto your side with a firm grip.

he doesn’t meet your eyes after, already sensing the knowing smirk on your lips. his ears turn red when you break the silence to tell him that green was a good color on him. but, your ever clever boyfriend is quick to reply, “that’s cute baby, but i’m not jealous. you haven’t seen me when i’m jealous.” the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the smug smile he wears reminds you to not test him.

king of matching outfits with you. not in the novelty shirts cheesy way, but he always asks for a fit check before he picks you up on dates. chigiri is outside your apartment within the hour, wearing a jacket that matches the color of your shoes and a sly grin. generally starts to shift his style to be a bit more cohesive with yours, he loves going out and looking like you belong together.

not to mention, matching outfits give him more excuses to take pictures with you. photos of you and him are plastered all over his instagram, your handle in his bio and everything. he’s no amateur either, always able to catch your best side, in perfect lighting. really makes you feel as pretty as he seems to think you are. hyoma is a bit of a show off too, so he gets a bit of an ego boost getting to let everyone know how cute you are, and that you’re all his.

hyoma greatly values the alone time he gets to spend with you. the best part of his week is sitting on the couch as you help him with his hair care routine. you running a mix of the comb and your fingers through his hair as the two of you catch up on the k-drama you started together. your touch and your attention and your warm presence enough to make the stress of a pro soccer career melt off his shoulders. makes you teach him how to do your nails and learns your skin care routine so that he can return the favor, although he’s much better at the latter.

MIKAGE REO is ungodly whipped and more than a little dramatic…

if we’re talking about social media boyfriends, reo is near insufferable. let’s be real, reo was already flexing on the gram before you got with him. constantly posting pictures of his car and expensive watches and exclusive clubs. he just becomes worse when you agree to go out with him. his story is full of aesthetically blurry shots of you, sometimes featuring him, anywhere and everywhere. in his car, on dates, cooking in his kitchen. he even found the audacity to post a picture of you in his bed, your bare back in full frame, the sheets pooled around your waist. “i’m so lucky” was the caption and the only context provided. unsurprisingly the lifespan of that post was quite short once you caught wind of it, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be getting so lucky in the near future.

i totally think reo is the type of guy that tries to act like a fuckboy but is secretly a hopeless romantic. in other words, reo is a huge sap™. has a picture of you in his wallet. you’re his screen saver and all his passwords feature your name. nagi is the last person left that will still listen to reo ramble on about you, all of his other friends having gotten tired of it.

we already know that reo is taking you to fancy dinners on the regular, but more unexpectedly i think he is a big fan of outdoorsy dates. previously mentioned hopeless romantic tendencies means reo loves a picnic way more than he lets on. his favorite is when the summer comes around and he gets to take you to the beach. if reo dies and goes to heaven and it's not you rubbing sunscreen into his warm back in a skimpy swimsuit he picked out for you himself, he's not interested. a close second favorite of his is late night drives with you. all the windows of his luxury sports car down, blasting a playlist the two of you made together, singing loud and ugly down the empty freeway. in these moments you make him feel weightless and he swears it’s addicting.

king of clingy. every time that you feel your phone vibrate, there's a good chance that it's your boyfriend. never with anything important either, asking where you are, how was your day, sending you pics of whatever he is doing, even resorting to imessage games when he runs out of things to talk about. he just always finds himself itching to open your contact. if mikage reo could eat up all of your attention, he would not hesitate to do so.

reo is usually the caretaker. when he obtained status of boyfriend, you automatically went on his list of special people in his life, only really consisting of you and nagi, and this granted you the exclusive privilege of walking all over him if you so please. truly a pushover and weak to your pouts. while we’re on the subject of ways to get him to fold, reo is surprisingly easy to flatter. your compliments are honey to his ears, no matter how many people have said the same to him before. his heart thumps loud in his chest whenever you do any act of service or labor of love for him. just wait for the day you buy this man some flowers. got his hand splayed over his red face, his palm not wide enough to cover his infatuated grin. "they're really for me, babe? god i knew i picked you for a reason.”

reo's feelings for you run extremely deep. scary deep. you make him feel stupid and irrational. he can't think straight, he's impulsive. you have to keep a close eye on him because give reo enough time alone and he'll convince himself that getting your name tattooed across his chest is an amazing idea, a grandiose display of his affection and devotion to you - sick as hell too. god forbid you go on a trip by yourself, there's honestly a decent chance you'll come home to a marriage proposal and explanations on how "no no, don't worry babe, i know its sooner than you expected but i've got it all planned out.” just be glad that up until this point he has resisted the strong urge to drop a fourth of his trust fund on a ring, a price he's more than willing to pay to make you all his.

NAGI SEISHIRO is greedy and will readily take a mile if given an inch…

nagi is… new to the whole boyfriend thing to say the least. not to say he’s bad at it or anything, but i imagine that in the beginning of your relationship, things are a bit, for a lack of better words, lukewarm. he struggles a bit with recognizing that the switch from friends to more than friends is more than just the title, letting you completely take the wheel. but his passiveness doesn’t last long. not when he can’t escape the way you are constantly on his mind. he thought it was overwhelming enough having a crush on you, but now that he’s falling for you it’s on another level. he thinks of you when he first opens his eyes, facing the obnoxious blue light of his phone to send you your daily goodmorning :x . he thinks of you at night, when he’s restlessly fighting to fall asleep before he ultimately caves and facetimes you so that he can drift off to your tired mumbles and even breaths. he thinks of you when practice drags on, the anticipation of seeing you after the only thing keeping him from giving into his exhaustion.

nagi can’t get you out of his head for the life of him, but to be fair he doesn’t put up much of a fight. seishiro is used to getting what he wants, so what does he do when his desire for you becomes a hassle? he makes it your problem. constantly calling you and asking you to pick him up from social functions because he misses you. insisting that he stays the night at your place or that you come to his because he needs his daily dose of you. and he doesn’t have the shame to be shy of telling you everything on his mind either. he unintentionally says very flustering things, unabashedly demanding your touch and your company, no matter who is listening. it’s your fault he’s like this after all, you might as well take responsibility and give him what he wants.

and what he wants is affection from you, as much as he can get. serishiro is mesmerized by your reactions. being in love with you is uncharted territory that he maps out with piqued curiosity and newfound greed. especially kissing. once nagi gets his first taste of kissing you for real, messy and needy and drawn out, he never wants to go back. not after seeing your red face, eyes lidded and lips parted so cutely he just has to steal one more. now his day dreams revolve around you, what flavor of chapstick you’re wearing, what perfume do you have on, are you thinking of him as much as he does you? thats one thing he never really finds the courage to ask, but that he secretly hopes is true.

he loves to find things you can work on together, even if you always end up being the one putting in more effort. nagi will insist on cooking dinner together, and maybe you get his help for a good 10 minutes before he’s slumped in a seat at the counter eating the ingredients. buys tons of lego sets for the two of you to put together and while you’re following the instructions, he’s stealing pieces you need so he can build a little car to push around the table while he watches you figure it out. he’ll even settle for a puzzle and a movie, but your out of luck if you expect him to do anything but the edges.

the lazy genius only really has the time and energy to have a couple of important people in his life, but once you make it into that inner circle, that shit is permanent as far as he’s concerned. it begins with him telling you that it only makes sense to leave some clothes at his apartment, you’re at his place half the week anyway. and then its him smuggling over your favorite pillows and stuffed animals to his bed instead of yours. then he’s asking you to go grocery shopping with him every week. the jokes he makes about the fact that, “you keep all your stuff here anyway. just move in with me already,” are far too frequent to be subtle. but when he hits you with the puppy eyes, which are annoyingly effective, how could you say no?

you’ve put yourself in his orbit after all and now the solar system that is nagi seishiro will use his gravity to pull you inevitably closer. it’s doomed.

is my bias obvious?? cuz i feel like it might be… lmk which one was your favorite!!

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[maxlarens]

OP: i can’t complain but i will

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri

word count: 2.4k+

an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!

I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out

Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.

His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—

No one’s cheering for Oscar—

Tom is on the radio.

Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.

Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.

Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.

A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.

He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.

He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—

Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.

He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.

And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.

Fuck.

So Oscar grins and he bears it.

He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—

That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…

He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.

Oscar gets it more than anyone.

II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay

Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.

It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.

He’s trying to be okay.

He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.

And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.

It’s making him crazy.

He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.

You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.

Fuck, and he would—

He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.

Lando frowns, his back to the lens.

Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.

Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—

Speaking of Oscar.

He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.

Because it hurts.

Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.

Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.

Some chained, angry dog on a leash.

Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.

It’s enough.

III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal

You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.

It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.

Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—

Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.

You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.

You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.

It's making your heart ache.

You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.

And it's fucking unfortunate.

But it's them. So it's fine.

You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.

But they're trying.

And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.

So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—

It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.

Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.

"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.

You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.

"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."

"Yeah," you whisper back.

You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.

"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.

You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.

"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.

You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.

Lando clears his throat.

In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.

You laugh, just a little.

Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.

Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.

“Hey,” you smile warmly.

He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.

You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.

“You okay?”, you ask.

Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”

You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”

He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Yeah,” because you get it,

Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—

Speaking of.

Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.

“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”

You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.

Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—

You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.

You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.

Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”

You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—

“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—

and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.

this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.

ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you. 

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…” 

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released. 

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

[niningtori]

make you cry | part three: hyuka's ending

part one | part two: beomgyu's ending

pairing: hueningkai x you, past beomgyu x you

summary: after your falling out with beomgyu, kai becomes your new best friend as you spiral out of control. his actions may not be completely platonic, though.

genre: angst, romance, smut (mdni), best friends to lovers

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!hyuka, oral (f. rec), dirty talk, praise, choking (sorry), possessive!kai, just some really sweet sex if u ask me, pregnancy kink

word count: 3.9k

notes: y'all... ik i said this would come out on my bday (which is exactly 2 weeks from now hehe) but i couldn't help but post it as soon as i finished it... lord knows i'm impatient. anyway, i said this would probably never exist but since ppl were asking for it, as the biggest pushover in the world, i couldn't say no ;_; i hope you enjoy it!

"you're not gonna die," kai says softly. "it's a shitty circumstance, but you're just making it harder on yourself."

you hum noncommittally while downing another searing shot of vodka. kai watches in horror as you don't even think to chase it, too much of a hassle, you said.

"look, i know how you're feeling, trust me. i just think that torturing yourself is the worst thing you can do right now. whatever happened to self care in the face of heartbreak?" he pleads, and it's like he's talking to a wall. you had been staring listlessly at the same spot for what had to have been at least an hour — no tears, no nothing. just a blank stare and an insatiable need for the next sip.

"yeah, i know. i just wish things were different." you were miserable being just friends with beomgyu before, but that pales in comparison to how used you feel now that you’ve slept with him. 

"i know, baby. i know." at this point, he kind of just wishes you would cry. the awful look on your face seems significantly worse than if you'd just burst into tears.

beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but as you slowly descended into a pit of unrequited love for him, kai had understood like no one else after a particularly nasty breakup with his serial cheating ex. you two found some sort of secret camaraderie in the feeling of loneliness, something beomgyu would never understand, given how easily everything tended to work out for him. except for right now, you guess.

"alright, i think i'm done here," you slur and shakily stand as the vodka seems to be doing its job. kai scowls in frustration, wishing he could do more for you, but knowing he can't.

-

kai refuses to let you go home alone, so he hitches a taxi for you two. in the backseat of the car, you lean your head on the window and close your eyes, but all you see is the repeating image of beomgyu with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he shows you the girl who he will probably end up fucking. you feel mentally sick knowing those eyes will never light up that way for you. you feel physically sick knowing that you gave him everything now and it still wasn’t enough. 

then, as if hearing your thoughts, kai carefully slides his hand around your cheek, which is currently somewhat numb from the coldness of the window and bumpiness of the ride, and softly places your head on his shoulder.

when you finally get to your apartment, you invite him in. he can tell you just don't want to be alone, but he doesn't say anything, just wraps an arm around you as you lead him into your bedroom. after plopping down in your bed, he turns to leave before you grab the end of his shirt.

"can you stay with me?" you plead. and he nods without a word. lying down next to you before pulling you in his warm embrace.

"you know, i think you're gonna be just fine," he whispers into the top of your head. and just like that, the dam breaks, and you finally, finally burst into tears. wail, really. 

you kick your legs like a child, chanting "no, no, no," and lamenting on and on about how things are wrong, wrong, wrong. this isn't how things were supposed to go. he was supposed to fall in love with you and open his eyes and see who’s been with him all along. he’d apologize and kiss you gently to make up for lost time. you hate how you hoped against hope that he would return your feelings and finally, finally start respecting you. but none of that happened the way it should. the way you so fervently hoped it would.

kai just pats your head and rubs your hair, all while cooing "shhh, i know. i know.”

you lay there with him, legs all tangled together and heart aching until you fall into a fitful sleep. 

-

you miss beomgyu, that goes without saying, but it's getting easier these days. this is due in no small part to kai’s persistence. he comes to see you nearly every day and calls you when he can’t. you spend countless nights with him on speakerphone. most nights, he talks about his day, where he went, the people he saw. on the really, really bad nights, he’s just trying to console you. like right now. 

“shh, it’s okay. i know,” he whispers into the phone.

“i-i’m sorry, hyuka. i’m just so sad,” you sob.

“no, don’t be sorry. why are you sorry?” he coos.

“because i’m dumping this all over you. it’s not your job to baby me,” you cry, feeling guilty beyond words, which only makes you cry harder.

“you’ve done the same for me. you know that. i couldn’t have gotten through my breakup if it weren’t for you, so you don’t need to be sorry. i’m here. i’ll always be here.” if you were less confused and hurt, you’d hear the extent of his tenderness. you might even realize how he’s bending over backwards in a way that’s reminiscent of the way you did for beomgyu. the way somebody who really loves you only ever does. but as it is, you don’t register any of it.

-

beomgyu shows up at your doorstep, sometimes. he doesn’t ever really say anything other than your name in a desperate voice between pleas to let him in, but you never do. you have no idea how strong your resolve will or won’t be if you see his face again, so you do your best to avoid him altogether. on a particularly bad night, though, you feel your self control waning. listening to what he has to say just once couldn’t hurt, right? you can’t stand the uncertainty and this seemingly endless purgatory you find yourself in now. you decide, no matter what the outcome is, you’ll put a stop to it tonight.

with newfound courage, you lightly crack your front door to come face to face with the boy who's been haunting you for months now. his red-rimmed eyes widen in shock as he finally sees you in person instead of from his friend’s instagram account. 

“what do you want?” you attempt to ask coolly, but you sound unsteady even to your own ears. beomgyu doesn’t seem to notice, though, and if does, he doesn’t say anything about it. 

“i just wanna talk to you,” he pleads, and you nod before widening the door and letting him in. you gesture for him to take a seat next to you on your couch and he cautiously sits while never breaking eye contact with you, as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he takes his eyes off of you.

“so?” you ask plainly. he clears his throat as if he's been in a daze until now and nervously begins.

“i-i’m sorry for what i did to you. so, so sorry,” beomgyu says weakly. “and i miss you so much i can’t stand it.”

“then why did you do it?” you ask, not without a hint of malice.

“i.. i don’t know. i think i was just so scared to be hurt that i hurt you instead. but being away from you has shown me just how much i need you.” need. what a strange word coming from beomgyu’s mouth. as for needing you in particular? even stranger. 

“you know, i really didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continues, but even he knows how flimsy his words seem right now.

“i know,” you reply quietly.

“i ruined everything,” he says with a sense of finality, no room for argument. “i know i did. but i-is it always going to be like this? i don’t think i can live without you in my life, one way or another.”

“i don’t know, beomgyu.” he flinches at the use of his full name. “it’s going to take some time before we can be friends again.” if ever. you don’t say those last words, but he can swear he hears them.

“that’s okay,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “as long as you know that i’m sorry, and that you didn’t and don’t deserve how i treated you.”

“i know,”  you repeat. you can’t believe you’re not bawling and pulling him into your arms right now, for better or for worse, but surprisingly, you don’t feel any of the emotions you could’ve bet your life you would feel. you pity him more than anything, and your heart does ache, but more so for the friendship you lost instead of the love that never was. beomgyu wasn’t your best friend for nothing, so as if he can sense how detached you are from him, he says his next words.

“are you seeing him?” he asks with a tinge of melancholy.

“who?” you ask, taken aback at his sudden question.

“c’mon, be serious. kai.”

“k-kai? what do you mean?” he smiles bitterly at your words. 

“i’ve seen the way he looks at you. if you don’t see it yourself, you’re either delusional or blind. after i last saw you, he really told me all about myself.”

“he talked to you after that?” you ask in shock.

“oh yeah. he said he’d beat the brakes off of me if i ever tried to hurt you again, and the only reason why he hadn’t done it already was because you would be sad.” you pause at his earth-shattering words. your sweet hyuka really said that? you can’t imagine someone as soft and caring as him uttering such unforgiving words, but when you think about how much pain he knew you were in, it makes sense. kai had seen the worst parts of you after beomgyu had broken your heart. only he knew just how much you were hurting, and only he would care as much as he did. you don’t know why, but you can’t help but smile softly at the thought of him being so riled up that he acted completely out of character for you. just for you.

“and if i know you, and i do, i’d say that you probably feel the same way he does.” you gasp at his observation. how could he possibly think that?

“y-you’re wrong! we’re just good friends.” best friends, even. you haven’t really thought about kai in that context. everything you’ve ever done seemed purely platonic on your end. but now that you’re really thinking about it, is it actually? the late night phone calls, spending the night in his arms, waking up to kisses on your forehead and promises to see you later. that’s not what “just friends” do, is it? 

“really? then you’d be okay with him acting the same way he does with you with literally anyone else?” you’re at a loss for words at this. what would you do if kai showed his gentleness to anyone else the same way he does for you? how would you react to him staying up all night on the phone with another girl? to him dropping everything just to make sure she’s eaten? to looking at someone else with infinite warmth and care? you wouldn’t like it at all. 

beomgyu smiles sadly at your reaction. he knows now that you’ll never love him again. not in the way he’s realized he loves you. but that’s okay. love is supposed to be selfless. he realizes that now as he watches you stutter and vehemently deny the love you have so obviously begun to have for another man.

on your end, all you can think is: oh god, how long have you been stringing kai along? since your fallout with beomgyu? or even before that? sure, you could hide under the pretense of being each other’s primary support system in heartbreak, but you can’t do that forever. especially not now. in the middle of your reverie, the sound of your front door opening snaps you back to reality. who else would it be besides the boy in question?

“what the fuck are you doing here?” kai growls when he catches sight of beomgyu. he had just stopped by to see if you’re okay since you hadn’t texted him back in awhile. he figured he’d walk in to you sleeping soundly, not to the sight of you and beomgyu getting cozy on your couch. you, of course, were decidedly not getting cozy with beomgyu in the slightest, but kai couldn’t see that in the midst of his rage. 

“me? i’m leaving now,” beomgyu says, sensing danger and cleverly wanting to escape it.

“yeah, you’d better,” kai spits. 

when beomgyu shuts the door behind him, kai immediately turns to you.

“did he hurt you?” you shake your head no. 

“are you okay?” he asks and all you can do is nod. actually, you haven’t felt this okay in a long, long time. things that didn’t previously make sense to you are incredibly clear now. you love kai, you really do. you loved beomgyu, obviously, but those feelings of pain are gone now that you feel the tenderness that is actual, reciprocated love. 

“kai?” you ask in the middle of his barrage of questions about what happened.

“yes?” he asks, completely dropping his interrogation as soon as you say his name. 

“do you love me?” his face crumbles at this question.

“don’t be stupid, of course i love you. you’re my best friend.” 

“not like that. i mean, do you love, love me?” you search his eyes for an answer. his mouth widens and he sputters for a moment before realizing there’s no way out.

“...yes.”

“since when?” you can’t help but ask.

“since always,” he says with a smile, reminiscent of the words you had spoken to beomgyu all that time ago. you can’t even imagine how kai must have felt when he saw you pining after beomgyu, and for so long. actually, you can. that’s how you felt about beomgyu. your heart aches when you think that you’ve unintentionally inflicted the same pain on the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.

“what about your ex?” 

“she’s not you. and i think… i think she knew my heart was never really in it. not like it is with you. i think that’s why she cheated.” it still hurt to be cheated on by her, to be clear, but not more than it did to see your eyes following beomgyu every second of every day. when he cried to you about her, he was really just crying over you.

“i’m… i know you’re not into me like that, and that's okay, it really is. i just don’t want to lose you.” your heart flutters at his words. kai’s selflessness, his care, his indulgence. his love. you try to imagine a world where kai shows the sides he shows to you to someone else. you’d feel absolutely gutted, now that you think about it. unconsciously, you’ve grown to want to monopolize everything about him. you can’t imagine giving him up, not for anyone. not even for beomgyu.

without another word, you gently place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards yours. you kiss him softly, tenderly, and he can’t help but gasp before melting into the kiss. there’s so much care behind it along with love, appreciation, and the sense of making up for lost time.

his eyes redden when you insert your tongue into his pliant mouth. 

“s-stop. any more, and i won’t be able to hold back.” “so don’t hold back,” you say as you grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom.

“a-are you sure?” he asks nervously.

“i’m sure,” you say breathily. “i love you, too. so please, just take care of me, okay?” he can’t hold himself back now. the girl he loves is practically begging him to take her, what kind of person would he be if he said no? so he doesn’t. with great care, he strips your clothes off of you and watches in awe as he sees your naked body in front of him. slowly, intentionally, he lays you down on your bed and admires you for all that you are. your cheeks heat up as he presses kisses onto every inch of your trembling body, almost like he’s trying to mark you with a seal that makes you his own, completely. almost like he’s removing traces of anyone else, and you love the feeling of practically being worshiped by a man who’s clearly in love with you.

eventually, his kisses become more and more fiery as he inches towards your fluttering pussy. 

with a curse, he grabs a pillow and shoves it underneath your hips, raising your glistening cunt so you can more easily fully take in the sight of him lapping up your sweetness like he’s starving. you’ve felt similar pleasure before, but nothing quite like this. is this how it feels to be with someone you love who truly loves you back? you think so. your legs are shaking and involuntarily caging him in between them, but he doesn’t try to resist you. it’s like he could die happily in between your legs as he moans into your cunt, the vibrations racking through your body deliciously. he chuckles when you gasp at the feeling of one of his long, knobby fingers entering your heat. he curls experimentally, you cry out his name when he finds your sweet spot and taps it mercilessly, sliding another finger in and following suit. the sweet feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit and the cruel curling of his fingers is enough to bring you to your climax. you cry out his name as your toes curl and legs shake, which only spurs him further, slurping up your slick like he can’t stand the thought of losing a single drop.

“did that feel good, baby? you wanted me to take care of you, right? so just sit back and let me do it. i’ll make you feel better than you ever have.”

he rips off his shirt and unceremoniously tosses it behind him. you’re panting now, gasping for air, but he’s not done with you yet. he sits up and unbuckles his pants, sliding them down his creamy thighs and letting his cock stand tall. his whole body is flushed pink with embarrassment when you take him all in, matching his reddened member, which is currently leaking profusely with precum. he’s so needy for you, and you can see it all over his bright pink face. you should be tired from the intense orgasm he just gave to you, but you can’t help but gulp in anticipation as he lines himself up with your entrance. slowly, he pushes his wide tip in your spasming pussy. 

“o-oh, god,” he says as he splits you open. you can’t even form words because the stretch you feel is absolutely scorching, so you whine instead. tears spring in your eyes as he shakily pulls out then pierces you with one fluid motion, bottoming out completely. 

“y-you’re going to break me,” you cry.

“oh, baby. it’s alright, you can take me,” he says soothingly, but not without a tinge of mischief. that’s all you get before he begins thrusting into you. the harsh curve of his cock dragging along your walls and inadvertently hitting your g spot relentlessly has you opening your mouth, trying not to drool, but failing when he sticks his thumb in your mouth. like a madwoman, you begin to desperately suck on it, which only fuels the fire even more. 

“you look so pretty sucking on me like that,” he coos. “bet you wish it was my dick instead, don’t you?” he snickers as he stuffs his cock into your pussy. “i’ll give it to you every day, okay? you don’t have to beg.” you nod pathetically in agreement. the thought of kai filling you up every day has you needier than before, somehow. you need this feeling, the feeling only he can give you.

his body is scorching hot in your arms. his cock throbbing inside you? even hotter. you watch in awe as he rams himself into you, your whole body shaking with every thrust. 

“t-take it, you can fucking take it. my pretty girl, so fucking perfect for me,” he praises.

this can’t be your sweet, sweet hyuka, right? but as your teary eyes look up at him, you know it has to be. as if he can hear your thoughts, he smirks as he takes one of his hands and lightly grips your throat. it’s not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to have you whimpering. he calls your name lovingly as he drills into your swollen pussy, walls clenching down around him. you whimpering out his name in tandem with the indecent sounds of his balls slapping against you ring inside his head. he feels more and more that he’s losing his grip on reality as he continues to impale you on his cock. a shudder pulsates through you as you feel an orgasm approaching again. you don’t have to say it’s coming, because he can feel it when you clench around him, pussy begging him not to leave as it sucks him in deeper and deeper. 

“fuck, baby, you look so beautiful coming undone around my cock. so gorgeous, this pussy is the best, never wanna leave it.”

neither of you feel particularly sane at the moment, especially not as he clutches your thigh to steady himself as he thoroughly fucks you into your soiled mattress, hand still gripping your throat. 

“gonna come, gonna get you pregnant so everyone knows not to mess with you. do you want that? do you want everyone to know how good i’m fucking you? that you’re all mine?”

“yes, yes, yes! come inside, please!” you manage to choke out. you place your arms around his neck and dig the heels of your feet into his ass as he drills into you. that’s all it takes, really, before his warm seed fills you to the brim. he moans as he releases his grip on your neck and pumps it further and further into you, pushing his load into your cervix as he peppers your face and neck with sweet kisses. 

he collapses, pushing your hair off of your sweaty face so he can get a better look at you. 

“d-did i hurt you?” he asks cautiously, only sobering up now that his release has come.

“it was good, i liked it,” you giggle, admiring his cuteness. he smiles contentedly as he places one hand on your stomach and gently caresses it. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. “can’t believe you’re really mine.” mine. what a beautiful word, only made more beautiful by the boy who’s insisting you belong to each other.

“i could say the same thing about you,” you whisper, placing your hand on his blushing cheeks. 

“wanna go again?” he asks, cock already hardening once more.

“w-what?” you ask dumbly as he shifts from beside you.

“i meant it when i said i want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, positioning himself over you again and sliding his cock up and down your slit. he was right. you’ve never felt this good before in your life, and you wouldn’t want it to be because of anyone else.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast @softesyoongi

series taglist*: @gyulinoo @moamidzyism @sooberryworld @dreamxerz @sweetttkissess @gothraccoons @jaxyy219 @idontwantoeatspicy @soobsfairy444 @denleave1088 @notevenheretbh1 @fairfootedflekk @hihello-pinky @ilovesimjaehyun143 @seolis-world @midwinterblizzard @slutty-cherry @run2min

*if you were tagged in part two: beomgyu's ending i assumed u wanted to be tagged in this one too! if i was wrong, i'm sorry n i will delete ur tag jus lmk!!

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"A whole new world." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif!)

For Daryl, it still feels like living in a whole new world with his daughter by his side, but in the hour that he is left alone with Marley, Daryl proves he is the best dad ever.

A/N: Lately I live to create scenarios with Daryl as a dad♥ This is just a short imagine but I hope you like it. If you want to read other stories with dad!Daryl, here are two: "My everything." and "For life." Thanks!

Marley Rose Dixon is five weeks old.

She is so tiny compared to her father, who for those weeks had done nothing but lay on the living room couch with her on top of him, wrapped in a comfortable blanket and on his chest while Daryl patted or rubbed her back gently, earning little sounds like a light laugh or a warm sigh before she fell fast asleep. Daryl had already held Judith when she was born, but there was something particular about holding Marley, like being in a new world, with an almost overwhelming feeling to feel his own daughter that close, protected as only he could do it, being as gentle and loving with her as his parents never were with him.

And when Alexandria fell into a deep sleep during the night, just like right now, Daryl would take some time after his wife fed Marley, laying her on his chest so she could feel his warmth, one hand behind his head while the other caressed her back.

It was routine, part of his daily life, and he loved the idea of ​​doing it, waiting patiently for his turn to hold her. But when light knocks are heard on the front door, Daryl opens his eyes as he notices that he was starting to fall asleep as well.

“I'll go.” You say softly, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. “You look way too comfortable right now and I wouldn’t want to make you move your ass off the couch.”

You’re joking with him and he knows it, but Daryl snorts as he crosses his feet over the armrest of the couch just to show you how comfortable he really is.

“I’m takin' care of our daughter, woman. This ain't a vacation, y'know?”

You chuckle before opening the door, and while it’s still a surprise that someone knocks considering it’s already late, that only meant one thing. Your neighbor is on the other side, a young woman who lived with her 8-year-old son.

“Hi, Elena, is everything okay?”

“Hey, (Y/N), sorry to bother you at this hour…” She tries to smile, though the worry on her face is evident, so you wave your hand indicating that everything is okay. “Ryan has been sick for a few hours now, and I thought he would get better if he rested, but he’s actually gotten worse and I was wondering if you could please check on him.”

Your smile falters slightly, because that would be the first time you’d leave your daughter alone with her father.

“Yeah, sure, of course I will. Let me talk to Daryl for a moment and I’ll come over to your house, okay?”

She nods and thanks you before heading back into her house, but when you close the door and turn around, Daryl is already looking at you, noticing your insecurity in a blink.

“Ya want a goodbye kiss? If ya want one ya can come closer, 'cause Marley and I will be fine without ya if ya got to go.” He looks at his daughter, as if she’s really going to answer him. “Ain’t that true, sweetie? We don’t need mommy watchin' us all day. Daddy can take care of everythin'.”

You trust him, completely, but your motherly instincts lead you to worry anyway.

“Okay. I don’t think I’ll be long, but there’s hot water for the milk in case she gets hungry. You know how to do it so it won’t be a problem.”

He snorts.

“I know damn well how to do it.”

“And I just changed her diaper so I don’t think you will need to do it for a while.”

“Okay.”

“And if she does start crying maybe it’s because–”

“Woman, just go, daddy can take care of it.” At least his confidence is almost reassuring, almost, but you know they’ll be okay. So, with a long sigh, you grab your cardigan from the single couch, your keys from the table near the door, and walk out of the house, leaving him alone in the company of his daughter’s soft breathing. “S'jus' ya and me, angel, so please don’t make daddy worry too much. I don’t want mommy to think I can’t take care of ma own daughter.”

Marley stirs slightly, letting out a small sigh, then falling into a deep sleep. For a short moment, Daryl closes his eyes again and the house falls into a deep, warm sleep too, far from terror and danger, but the feeling is short-lived when after a while she starts to whine, first making soft sounds that Daryl tries to soothe as he continues to pat her back, making sounds that would calm her. For a few seconds, Marley does calm down, but the next her eyes squeeze shut tighter, and she cries for a little longer, a little louder this time.

Slowly, Daryl sits down on the couch, his hands supporting Marley’s body on her blanket.

“Okay, angel, I think we’re hungry again.”

He gets up from the couch with his daughter in his arms, gently rocking her on his way to the kitchen. The only light in the house comes from the lamp in the living room, but the moonlight shines through the open window blinds and lights his way as Daryl prepares the milk with an expert hand: pouring the water into the bottle, opening the formula, and so on. Marley continues crying, but not so loud to make her dad worry, and when within a few minutes the bottle has cooled under the sink’s stream of water, Daryl comes back into the living room, setting the milk on the table in front of him to nestle Marley against his arm.

Her blue eyes are open now, scanning the place, but the moment she catches her father’s gaze as he looks back at her, her crying subsides.

“What are ya doin' up so late, little miss?” Daryl smiles, taking the bottle and bringing it to her mouth. The second Marley feels it against her lips, they part to start drinking the milk, her crying fading quickly. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ya need to drink all the milk so ya can grow big and strong. Mommy’s a little short but us Dixons are tall, so I’m countin' on ya to get that from me, that and those beautiful eyes I can’t stop lookin' at.”

After a while and even though Marley’s eyes begin to droop as the milk runs out, Daryl continues to smile at her until her eyelids finally close again, the bottle still in her mouth. Daryl pulls it away from her and places it back on the table before standing up, settling Marley against his chest before pacing around the room, patting her back with a gentle touch. Marley's head is almost under his chin, and Daryl only has to tilt his head slightly to rest it against his daughter, keeping her warm against him.

“Ya know, baby?” He says softly, his voice low so as not to disturb her sleep, but eager to share this story with her, even if she doesn’t hear or remember it. “When mommy found out she was pregnant, she was so scared. Mommy has always been a very, very brave person, but at that moment, daddy could see the terror in 'er eyes. Even though I don’t want to, one day I’ll have to show ya the new world we live in now, but despite that, I told yer mommy I wanted to have ya. The idea of ​​havin' a family of ma own never crossed ma mind until I met yer mommy: she came into ma life to remind me to stop existin' and start livin', but the moment I knew ya were in mommy’s womb I felt a new kind of happiness, somethin' I thought I had no right to feel. Daddy loves ya, ma little angel, daddy loved ya since he knew ya existed, and daddy will love ya for the rest of his life. I just hope ya love me too…”

Those last words leave his lips in an even lower voice, almost inaudible, but it’s a wish Daryl has dreamed of ever since he found out he was having a baby.

He places a kiss on Marley’s head, before heading upstairs.

Once in the bedroom, the light coming through the closed window with the curtains open fights against the darkness, light that draws a perfect rectangle over the center of the bed, the place where Daryl leaves his daughter, as soft as he never thought he could be, covering her with her blanket before lying down next to her, on his right side and with his arm under his head to admire his daughter as he has been doing since she was born.

Daryl's hand is significantly larger than Marley's, but he uses his finger to caress his daughter's fingers, her hand slightly closed, smiling at the contact with her soft, warm skin. For him, it is still surprising to see that she is really there with him, so close and so little. Marley has a small nose, and sometimes she looks like her mom, and sometimes like him. His family often jokes with him, wondering if she will inherit his dad's personality, that explosive temper that they used to make fun of fondly, but that everyone knew he had only used to protect himself from pain. Because everyone knew well that behind that, Daryl was a born leader, a brother and an uncle, and yes, he was also intimidating with his silence, but a very protective and loyal person, willing to give his life for his family.

It takes Daryl a moment to close his eyes, but he’s always alert, though the walls of his home were a kind of protection. He’d always been a light sleeper (except since Marley was born, because at that moment Daryl truly felt what it was like to be deprived of that resource), but the moment you walk up the stairs on your way to the bedroom, he can feel you despite the silence that accompanies you.

Daryl rubs his eye with his fist, raising himself up on his arm just as you enter the room.

“Everythin' okay with Ryan, sweetheart?” He asks quietly, in that deep, husky voice.

You nod as you walk over to your side of the bed, sitting on the edge to watch Marley.

“Yeah, it looks like he caught some kind of bug from eating something his mom forbade him to eat, but I gave him some medicine and Ryan will be fine: just that the nausea is pretty annoying, especially in the middle of the night.”

Daryl chuckles.

“It reminds me when ya were pregnant with Marley. Ya kinda hated me for it.”

You smile a little, it’s late but you’re still in the mood to joke with him.

“I kind of still do, but oh well…”

Daryl snorts before laying back down, head over his arm.

“Shut up. Ya love me.”

You chuckle.

“Of course I love you, silly, if I didn’t I would never have let you get me pregnant.”

Daryl smirks, mischievous.

“I told ya it was a good idea to do it without a condom. We made a very cute baby.”

You squint.

“Yeah. But don’t think that’s going to happen again.”

With that, you get back up to change into something more comfortable before you go to sleep, at least for a little while before Marley wakes up again. Silently, and though you don’t notice until you get back to bed, too immersed in constant tiredness, Daryl follows you with his gaze all the way, admiring your body and your beauty until his eyes meet yours.

“When can I make love to ya again?”

You laugh softly as you lay down on the other side of Marley.

“I think in a few more days we’ll be fine.” You adjust the pillow under your head, rubbing your eye with your fist as sleep begins to overcome you. But before you drift off into a light slumber, you use the energy in your body to look your husband in the eyes. “This is the first time you’ve been left totally alone with her, and you did a great job, daddy, I knew you could do it. I am very proud of you.”

Daryl smiles slightly as he too begins to fight off sleep, but his chest is filled with pride.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

[kp-alice]

The Fall of the Undefeated One

Summary: Your boss is the epitome of a workplace bully, pressuring everyone to work overtime even through sick days and family emergencies. Most infuriatingly, though, no one has ever dared to go against him - until now, that is.

AKA blackmailed boss!sub!Yunho x sadistic!dom!f!reader

Word count: 5 505

Warnings: While I made it obvious multiple times that this is all roleplay, I still want to give a huge warning for !!!!!CNC!!!!!, blackmailing, forced feminization, pegging, taking photos during sex, crying, begging and just resisting in general (though Yunho is just pretending obv), blowjobs (f rec), Yunho gets slapped once, checking in on each other mid-scene, some pretty dark dialogue (esp at the end)

A/N: This fic is the fifth part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

"So you're absolutely, totally, one hundred percent sure you want to do this?"

"I've only told you like fifty times but yes, I am definitely, completely, one thousand percent sure."

"And you'll tell me if you want to stop?"

"Just like you'll tell me if you want to stop."

"Alright, then. See you next Friday, 'boss'."

You were sitting in your office, checking various reports and scheduling meetings for next week as usual. As Mr. Jeong's secretary, you had your own office instead of sharing a cubicle with other employees. It didn't stop you from chatting with them during lunch break, however, which led you to some very interesting information.

Contrary to your initial belief, it wasn't just you who your boss decided to be extra stern towards. As you quickly realized, the entire department was permanently overworked and underpaid, all thanks to the one man at the top. And the most infuriating thing about it all? No one dared to stand up against him. Even if they were living off 3 hours of sleep every day, even if they were denied holiday to visit their families in a dire situation, everyone just hung their heads low and obliged. The company had an incredible reputation, after all, and nobody wanted to lose a chance to write it down in their resume during their next hunt for a job. And even if someone did decide to stand up for themselves, all it took was the smallest, vaguest threat from Mr. Jeong about how other hiring companies would hear about this behavior and all protests would immediately cease.

There was nothing you could do about it, either. All you could do was just watch on as the bullying went on, shaking your head in quiet disappointment.

Until you'd also been wronged by your boss.

"What do you mean, 'paid overtime'?" Mr. Jeong mocked you right to your face. "What you call overtime, I call the bare minimum, sweetheart. I don't care if your mother is sick or your rent is past due, you only get paid for the work you've done, no charity. If you think this is too much for you, feel free to leave anytime. Don't expect to be hired anywhere else, though, every reputable company around here would love to hear my opinion on your performance before hiring you."

You were stunned, rage quietly boiling within at the audacity of the asshole in front of you. Every day for the past month and a half, because of his impossible demands, you'd been working two to four hours extra just to meet each deadline. You barely had time to sleep, let alone actually live your own life and talk to friends and family, and this is how he decided to treat you?

"Glad we settled that, then. Now go make yourself useful and bring me those copies from yesterday's meeting, will you?"

That day, you decided that your boss, Mr. Jeong Yunho himself, would pay dearly; both for what he'd done to you and to the other workers.

For the next three weeks, you dug through every file and article you could find in the office and online, desperately searching for anything big you could use against him. And, by some miracle, you found one. A real big one, in fact.

This was it. You had him in the palm of your hand, even if he didn't know it yet.

A knock came at your door, making you look up from the report you were currently working on.

"I expect to hear a very good reason for coming here right this instant, Miss L/N," was the first thing he said as he walked into the room, visibly angered. God forbid he had to approach someone for once instead of everyone crawling to him.

"Oh, don't worry Mr. Jeong, I'm sure you'll find what I'm about to tell you very interesting," you smirked as you spoke, gesturing for him to sit down on the small couch near your desk.

"Get to it then, darling, I really don't have time for this," Mr. Jeong commanded, yet again slipping a condescending pet name in to try and throw you off. Typical.

It wasn't you who was surprised, however, when you suddenly stood up, walked over to the door, and locked it. "Be patient, Jeong. If you don't want to fuck up any more than you already have, I suggest you behave yourself."

His mouth hung open, fully taken aback by this new attitude of yours. Perhaps you had a death wish, speaking to him like that, or maybe, you had just gone completely insane. Either way, he was excited to show you why you should never, ever, do that again.

But before he could say anything, you were already back at your desk, turning your laptop to face him.

"As your hard-working and thorough secretary, I've gone back on some reports and files from this year, and you'll never believe what I found!" You said with fake excitement, eyes shining. "If you look really closely, you can see each worker's salary, and then here is the amount of money they should have actually been given each month according to the government-mandated minimum wage. Care to explain why those numbers are vastly different and why none of us were notified about a raise in salary, Mr. Jeong?"

Yunho's eyes widened as he scanned the document, recognizing the spreadsheet he'd secretly made for himself to keep track of all the cuts he'd been taking from everyone's salaries. He could have sworn he'd kept the file fully private, likely even password-protected, yet, somehow, you'd managed to get your hands on it.

"Why are you- how did you get that?!" He finally said, trying to suppress the sudden anxiety churning his stomach. "Those are private files and you have no right to be looking through them! Go pack your things immediately, because you are fired - and I'm being very merciful with that decision."

"Oh, if only it was that simple, Jeong," you replied cunningly. "You can fire me all you want, but once these files go public, your reputation, company, and maybe even life will be over, I'm afraid. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Yunho gritted his teeth, looking down as he considered his options.

"...Alright. What do you want me to do?"

Despite your best efforts, you barked out a laugh at his question, too amused by the cold facade he was still fighting so hard to keep. "There we go, finally on the right path! You're not the one making demands here, Jeong, I am. If you want to preserve everything you've managed to build so far, you better start listening to me and me only."

Yunho let out a deep, frustrated sigh, refusing to admit you were right. If any of this information were to get out into the public, his entire professional life would be over in an instant. Just as you'd said, he was completely at your mercy right now.

"Well, what do you want then? Money? A promotion? A transfer to a different company? What?"

"Strip."

...

Yunho's entire world paused the second you'd said it, freezing him in place. He had to have heard you wrong, right? There was simply no way you could have said something like that to someone like him.

"W-what?"

You let out a sigh yourself, frustrated with how uncooperative your superior was being. This was the guy demanding Herculean tasks from his subordinates on a daily basis?

"I said strip, Jeong."

His breath hitched at your angry tone, chest tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Y-you can't be serious, there's no way that-"

"What part of 'I can ruin your entire career in seconds' did you not understand?" You spat, sending a shiver down Yunho's spine. "The company or your pride, your choice."

A heavy silence hung in the air for an uncomfortably long time, turning Yunho's cheeks a deep red. He didn't know what was worse - the fact he was actually considering doing it or the fact that you knew he was considering it, judging by his lack of a response.

"...How much?"

You looked at him in confusion, swinging one leg over the other before leaning closer to his nervous form. He was clearly nervous, playing with his fingers, one leg bouncing up and down.

"'How much' what?" You finally asked back.

"How much do I have to take off?"

You snorted at the question, making him look up into your eyes. "What do you think, Jeong? Just stand up and start undressing; I'll tell you when to stop."

Yunho gulped at your words, eyes shaking. Never in your years of dating had he seen such a cold, sadistic expression on your face. Somehow, it was both incredibly intimidating and extremely arousing.

Trying his best to ignore his trembling hands, he stood up on two weak legs and reached for his suit jacket. A whimper threatened to spill past his lips as he finally undid the first button, feeling like he could just break down and cry right now from the overwhelming humiliation.

"Oh my god," you marveled, leaning back to enjoy the show, "you're actually doing it! And here I was worried I'd have to threaten you with something even bigger, yet all it took was a few words and you're already doing whatever I say."

"You know very well it's not just a 'few words'!" Yunho hissed indignantly. "If my entire future didn't depend on this, I would never-"

"Shut the fuck up and do as you're told before I get angry, Jeong," you growled back, making him immediately back down again. His hands were visibly shaking now, eliciting a few quiet curses from him as he struggled with the remaining button.

At last, he was able to get the garment off, looking at you to see if he could stop now. But your expression remained stoic, leaving him with no other choice.

Tears of humiliation stung in his eyes as he began working on his shirt but he bit them back, absolutely refusing to cry in front of you. Soon, the shirt joined his discarded suit jacket on the floor.

"Wow," you said appreciatively, unabashedly ogling his chest. "Who would have thought the office asshole had such nice tits. This is even more fun than I had imagined."

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to react to your comment, desperately wanting to but knowing it would just make everything so much worse.

"What are you waiting for?" You asked impatiently. "I didn't say you could stop yet, did I?"

"Miss L/N, you can't possibly be serious-"

"What would your family think if they found out how you treat your employees? Your father is a reputable business owner himself, isn't he?"

"I- well, yes, but- fuck," Yunho muttered to himself, trying not to let the growing despair take over. His pristinely ironed pants pooled around his feet before he stepped out of them and gave you one more hopeful look. When he was met with nothing, he sighed, taking off his socks as well before looking up again. Surely, this had to be enough, right? Right?

Silence.

Yunho's hands shook at the realization of what the silence implied, unable to bring himself to remove the last piece of clothing he still had on. Your gaze on him was unwavering, watching his every move and expression like a hawk ready to swoop in.

Which is why you also noticed the signs of genuine anxiety in him very quickly.

"What's your color, Jeong?" You asked as neutrally as you could, not wanting to fully break the scene but still wanting to check in on him.

"Green, it's green, I just-" Yunho took a deep, shaky breath, balling his fists by his sides, "I just can't get my hands to listen to me, I'm sorry."

"Listen, Jeong," you began, standing up to approach your shaking lover. "I'm going to be very generous right now and take it off for you, okay? But you can't expect me to help you with everything you're the one in trouble. Understood?"

Yunho gave you a quick, thankful nod, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched your fingers slip under the waistband of his underwear. Then, in one swift motion, you tugged the garment down, leaving him completely bare in front of you.

"There you go," you whispered softly, stepping back to admire the view. Yunho's hands did their best to cover himself but it was not exactly effective, considering your amused face. "What? Feeling shy? Don't worry, sweetheart, I have just the clothes for you."

Yunho was confused by the sudden, surprisingly nice gesture until he saw the clothes in question.

"Go on," you encouraged, shoving the clothes into his arms, "make yourself pretty."

A tear rolled down his eye as he looked at the mix of pink and white, but he quickly turned away and wiped it off, still trying to keep some semblance of dignity.

"Now, Jeong," you began, back in your office chair, one leg crossed over the other, "I'm going to give you a choice. I'm afraid you have no say in what's going to happen next, but you can decide how it will go. Do you want it the easy way, or the hard way, hm?"

Yunho meekly sat on the couch, keeping his hands in his lap to prevent the pink skirt from riding up even higher than it already had. The white thigh highs on his legs didn't do much to keep him warm, sending small shivers up his spine.

"The easy way, please."

"Good boy," you praised him, though there was no actual warmth to your words. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I say so."

Yunho complied, feeling like this was one of the simpler tasks you could have given him, yet it also gave him no clue as to what to expect. He didn't dare think about what might happen, fearing you were going to subvert his expectations anyway.

And subvert them you did.

"Open, Jeong."

Yunho's mouth hung agape as he looked at your hips, fully bare save for the leather harness secured around them. What stood out even more to him, though, and quite literally at that, was the silicone cock fastened to said harness.

"Come over here and get on your knees, if you'd be so kind."

Yunho was yet again frozen solid, unable to process what he was seeing. "I-I'm sorry, but have you gone absolutely insane?"

You chuckled at his incredulous tone, taking a step toward him. "Oh? I thought you just said you wanted to do this the easy way, what's with the attitude?"

"I don't know if you forgot who the fuck I am, L/N," Yunho gritted through his teeth, leaning forward to try and match your tone, "but you better snap out of this power trip right now or-"

"Or what?!" You finally snapped, startling the man back into his seat. "What are you going to do, Jeong? Lose your entire career because you were too proud to be under someone for once? Is that what matters to you the most?"

Yunho panted as he looked at you with nothing but disdain.

Letting out a sigh, you gestured back to your laptop, clicking over to the next tab in your browser. "Since you couldn't play nice, let me up the ante a bit. If you look over here, you can see a few emails that are ready to be sent at any minute. A lot of them, in fact. Wanna know who they're addressed to?"

He stayed silent, refusing to play your disgusting games.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you anyway," you grinned, scrolling down the list. "Here we have each of your family members, every single employee in your company, your 20 biggest competitors, journalists, workplace inspectors, and a few dozen more big contacts. With a single click, they'll all learn the truth within minutes, evidence included."

Yunho's face fell at the sight. "Y-Y/N, Miss Y/N, please..."

"Begging won't change my mind, Jeong," you spat, leaving the tab open as you walked back in front of him, "but actions just might."

Tears once again threatened to spill past his eyes, throat squeezing uncomfortably tight as he suppressed them. He couldn't cry. Not like this, not in front of you.

Swallowing back a whimper, Yunho slowly shuffled forward, all the way to the edge of the couch, before sinking down to the floor. You watched on with a satisfied smirk, lips curling even further up as his eyes met the fake cock in front of him again.

Oh god, he was really going to do this.

Trying to keep his hands as steady as possible, he reached for the strap-on, feeling it under his fingertips before wrapping a hand around the base. Angling the tip to his mouth, Yunho closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh before finally diving forward.

You stared at him in awe as his lips wrapped around the sizable tip, brows furrowing while he tried to push deeper. "There you go, good boy," you praised in a sickly sweet tone, resting one of your hands in his hair. His other hand that wasn't gripping the base of your cock fisted his skirt instead, likely trying to keep his gag reflex at bay while he sunk further down.

When his lips met his own fist, he let his throat rest for a bit, trying to breathe as best as he could despite the big piece of silicone in his mouth. After a few long, uncomfortable seconds, he decided to start moving again, giving a few experimental bobs with his head. On the fourth one, though, he audibly gagged, throat spasming while he quickly dove back up for air. You silently watched as he coughed and gasped for air, leaning to the side with his palms against the floor.

Once he got his breathing under control again, he looked up at you, meeting your gaze for the first time in a while. You smiled back down at him, a genuine smile this time, and used the opportunity to mouth a quick "All good?" to him. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he happily nodded back, calming any potential worries.

A quick tug at his hair was all it took for him to snap back into the scene.

"Did I say you could stop, Jeong? We haven't even gotten to the main course yet."

Just as Yunho began asking what you meant by that, he was shoved back onto the dildo, giving him no more than a second to prepare. You slid back into his mouth with ease, not too deep to make him choke, but deep enough to get his attention again. "Or do I have to show you another incentive to keep going?"

With a small grunt, Yunho shook his head as best as he could given his position and got back to work. He made sure you saw as he diligently sucked on the tip, swirling his tongue around it before pushing further down. If he had no choice but to do this, he might as well get it over with. Soon enough, he could almost take the whole thing in his mouth. You caressed his hair gently, a small show of praise that wouldn't break the scene too much.

The hand in his hair quickly turned more domineering, however, as you suddenly tightly clutched the strands, warning him of what was likely to come.

His prediction turned out to be spot-on as you began to pull him back up by his hair, only to push him back down again and start all over. Yunho could do nothing but let you move him as you wanted, desperately willing his lungs and throat to calm down so that he wouldn't choke again. Or too badly, at least.

Small, wet sounds filled the room as you moved him up and down on the strap-on, using both hands now to steady his head while you picked up the pace. A tear or two rolled down his cheeks this time, but you knew it was no reason to celebrate just yet. These were just a natural response to you fucking his throat, not a sign of you actually breaking him.

That would have to come later, it seemed.

"On the couch," you ordered curtly, pulling him off you at once. He was left hunched over, face bright red and lungs heaving for air.

Once your words finally registered for him, he willed his limbs to move again, crawling up on the couch. You wasted no time with him anymore, manhandling him into the desired position.

As much as he hated to admit it, Yunho's fight was faltering. His tightly clenched jaw had relaxed, giving way to the tired pants leaving his body. All snarky remarks and threats were long gone, his head too much of a muddy mess to come up with anything smart to say. You could feel it too, how much more pliant he'd grown under your touch, letting you press his upper half into the couch cushions.

When he heard the click of a bottle cap opening, some of that fight rushed back, only to leave just as quickly with a single reminder from you about what was at stake for him.

Yunho let out a quiet grunt as a finger breached him from behind, still hell-bent on hiding his reactions from you. He knew you'd revel in it, in every moan and beg and whimper, which is exactly why he could never give any of it to you. Until that dam broke, he could pretend he still had some dignity left.

"I advise you to relax as much as you can, Jeong," you spoke softly, burying your finger inside of him to the last knuckle before pulling back again, "otherwise this is going to hurt quite a bit."

"You're sick," Yunho spat back but quickly shut up again as you pressed in a second finger, causing a whine to almost push past his lips.

"So? What are you gonna do about it?" You asked back. The satisfaction within you only grew when he had nothing to say to that, too scared to admit the truth.

So far, Yunho was faring quite well. The biggest sign of this having even the slightest effect on him was how hard he was gripping the couch cushions, but that was about it. And it was exactly because of that that you began to grow bored.

Time to make him speak up.

Curling your fingers, you began angling your hand this way and that way, until-

"Fuck!" Yunho cried out, involuntarily clenching around your hand. You watched as his thighs quivered and his back arched, trying to simultaneously push back against you and fight the urge to do so at all costs.

"What was that?" You taunted, focusing on that specific spot you'd found while your other hand roamed along his hip. "Is someone starting to enjoy themselves? And here I thought I was the sick one?"

"Shut- ah! Shut the fuck up!" Yunho moaned out, eyes tightly shut as he tried to fight the onslaught of pleasure. He knew he couldn't help it, that it was just his body's natural reaction to being stimulated, and yet, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by it as well. He fought so hard to keep any and all noises at bay, only to then completely crumble without any say in the matter.

Then, without warning, your fingers pulled out of him, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get up, to run far away from whatever the fuck this was, yet his mind knew very well it would be of no use. Not when your hand was back on his hip again, bringing his ass closer as you poured more lube over his hole.

"Hmm, no, this won't do," you thought out loud, looking at the way Yunho was presenting for you.

In the blink of an eye, he was flipped on his back, legs forced apart to accommodate you between them. Your strap was now peeking at him from behind his own half-hard cock, making his cheeks heat up. How was that thing bigger than he was? Moreover, what the hell were you planning to do with it?

"Say cheese!"

A bright light flashed into Yunho's eyes, making them squint in discomfort. When they managed to refocus, however, he was met with a sight somehow even more horrifying than all the evidence on your laptop.

A camera.

You were holding a camera and taking photos of him with it. Photos of him in a state like this.

"W-what are you- what?" Yunho stumbled out, voice laced with genuine horror.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Jeong?" You asked back, flipping his skirt up to show his prepped and needy hole. Another click and a flash of light.

The third snap finally managed to break him out of his trance, and his hand immediately shot up to grab your wrist.

"Ow! What the-" You hissed out in pain, almost dropping the camera to the ground. "That shit's expensive, you idiot!"

Yunho either didn't hear your words or simply ignored them, too busy trying to wrestle the camera from your hand. Doing sexual favors for you to save his business was one thing, he was already too deep in to stop that, but this? Oh, no, no no no, he was not going to just let you get even more dirt on him. Sure, he might have sold his body today to try and save his career, but he was NOT letting you trap him into a vicious cycle of blackmailing. He knew exactly how these things went, he knew you wouldn't be satisfied with just today, he knew you'd just keep demanding more and more from him and that-

A sharp sting dug into his cheek, the force of the slap turning his head to the side.

"I fucking told you to let go!"

The tight grip on your wrist eased up as you broke Yunho out of his spiral, preventing him from getting too deep into whatever inner chaos he tried to enter. His confused eyes met yours, studying your stern expression for a moment before he settled back into the scene, giving you a small nod as a sign to keep going.

"Before you try any of that shit again, I'll have you know that all of the photos I take on this are automatically backed up on my laptop. Breaking it does nothing except piss me off even further, and I don't think you want that, sweetheart."

Your hand slid up to grab his face, squishing his cheeks together.

"Now just accept your fate and let me take my pictures, hm? I don't think you want these to end up on the news tomorrow."

Yunho had no words left. No matter how his mind tried to twist this, there was no lie left that would convince him he had any sort of upper hand in this scenario. From the moment he walked into your office, his fate was sealed. Unlike everywhere else in his life, he didn't hold any power here. No amount of threats or intimidation could ever get him out of your grasp unless you yourself decided to let him go. He was yours to do with as you pleased.

All of those thoughts swirled around in his head as he lay under you, dressed like a girl, his entire body on display while you took as many photos as you wanted. He almost started to leave his body for a second, feeling too helpless to stay present in the moment any longer, but the feeling of cold, wet silicone pressing against him stopped him from doing so.

"Please..." Yunho said so quietly you almost didn't hear it, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"Please what, Jeong?"

Yunho took a deep breath but choked on it midway through as, finally, the first real tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Please don't do this, please."

Your pupils blew wide open at the sight before you, feeling a sudden high you'd never felt before. He - your boyfriend, the man everyone knew as a strong, independent, reliable guy, was now crying under you, lips trembling as he begged with a wobbly voice. Thanks to all the reassurances throughout the scene and the obvious hard-on between his legs, you didn't have to worry about his comfort or safety, letting you truly focus on the mental rush you were currently experiencing. The insane amount of trust between you felt almost palpable in that moment, an indescribable wave of tenderness so twisted yet so sweet it was almost overwhelming.

"Just let it happen, Jeong," you finally breathed out, eyes lidded as you reached down between the two of you. "Just let go and take it."

Yunho let out a watery whimper as you finally breached him with your strap, not caring to hide his noises anymore. He had nothing more to lose, after all.

The atmosphere shifted into something more quiet and subdued, yet simultaneously a thousand times more intense. Just like him, you had no more condescending comments and mean remarks left in you as everything had already been said.

Yunho was yours for the taking, and take you did.

With each snap of your hips, you pushed him further into that soft, pliant headspace of his. You could feel his muscles relax, going almost limp from the rush of it all. There was nothing in his head anymore, nothing but the physical sensations you were providing. More tears escaped his eyes as you leaned closer, hitting that sweet spot inside him with even more precision. Yunho rewarded each jab at his prostate with a small, punched-out noise, too hazy for anything more than that.

You watched his hips buck up when you wrapped your free hand around him, the other pulling him towards your thrusts by his hip. His breath hitched at the sensation, face scrunching up as you began to stroke up and down.

"Ready to cum, babe?" You whispered tenderly, causing him to open his eyes again.

"Yes, please," Yunho sniffled weakly, reaching up to grasp your shoulders for support.

Getting your sweet boyfriend over that imaginary edge took no more than two minutes after that, already too pent up from everything up until now to hold it any longer. You held him close as he seized up, chest arching into yours while he spilled into your hand.

You reached behind you for the tissue box on your side table, careful not to jostle Yunho around too much. He wrapped his legs around your waist, feeling too tender and small to let you go.

"Don't worry hun, I'm not going anywhere," you comforted him as you turned back around. You quickly wiped your dirty hand with one of the tissues before leaning forward and dabbing his tears away with another one. Handing him a third one, you helped him lift his head up to blow his nose before throwing all three tissues into a nearby bin.

As much as you wanted to debrief with him right then and there to make sure he really enjoyed himself, one look into his eyes assured you he was nowhere near ready for that right now. He looked content and comfortable, sure, but his eyes were still too distant for any complicated discussions and introspections.

So, you simply asked him what to do next.

"Can we just cuddle for a bit?" Yunho asked meekly, a small pout on his face as he extended his arms out for a hug. "We can clean up and talk after, but I just really need you right now."

You took him up on his offer with zero hesitation, snuggling into his embrace as close as you could. The position was a bit awkward from your position, given you were still lodged inside of him, but oh well.

A few minutes of curling up with your precious love bug never hurt anyone.

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[billsbabydoll]

“𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓊𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓍𝒶𝒷𝓁ℯ, 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓁𝒹.”

contains:HARSH ANGST+SMUT<3

summary:finally getting sick of bills toxicity and instability, i packed up all of my belongings and planned to “leave him” or as i stupidly told myself, only to find myself easily falling back into his same hypnotizing trap.

WARNINGS:abusive relationship, fighting, arguing, manipulation (I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS in this story, this story is ONLY for entertainment purposes!!!), very narcissistic and misogynistic bill, hard-dom!bill, dumb-sub!reader, p in v (against the wall), degrading, pet-names, LIGHT choking, heavy breeding kink.

notes:as someone who has experienced theses types of situations firsthand, if you ever do find yourself in these kinds of circumstances please take the initial steps to get yourself out that relationship immediately, youll be fine i promise love ya!

HEAVY THEMES AHEAD!

“yeah go fucking cry about it you sensitive bitch, get the fuck outta’ my face!”bill loudly shouted at me from the living room as i ran and locked myself into our shared bedroom, tears streaming profusely down my cheeks, as i tumbled onto the bed and proceeded to curl myself up into a small pathetic ball.

im tired of living like this, being so isolated, feeling so trapped, being so mentally and physically drained, having to constantly walk around eggshells around him.

me and bills relationship was a perfect fairytale in the beginning, but quickly came burning down in flames and burnt down to pure ashes at his rage.his anger completely undoing every single precious thing he ever once said to me.

every “i love you.” or “i cant wait to start a life with you.” was once a simple loving string of words now being dangled high above my head as a reminder of his broken promises.

i still cling onto that small glimmer of hope that he could change some-day, that he could love me again, or that he could simply hold me without hurting me.

i lay in my own pity for a long grueling hour before i decide to slowly unravel myself from my position, gently getting up from the bed, wiping the tears from my eyes telling myself,

“i need to leave,

right now.”

i kick into full panic mode and immediately start changing into a dark colored tracksuit and a comfortable pair of sneakers, then i rummage through our closet grabbing random handfuls of my belongings stuffing my suitcase to the brim.

i quietly creak the bedroom door open and make my way through the dark hallway, my luggage in one hand as i try to rush towards the front door.

“going somewhere babe?”he eerily questioned, his evil presence immediately sending cold chills down my spine.

“i-i-uhm..”i mumbled trying to find some kind of explanation but it was if something was struck in my throat, i looked like a child who just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“im leaving!”i managed to spit out, slowly turning to face him.

“oh your leaving?”he responded in a cartoonish voice mocking my own, chuckling manically at my response.

he crosses his arms over his chest as he cockily looks me up and down, he then quickly steps forward grabbing me by my chin with his right hand, yanking a fistful of my hair with his left.

“cant you see THIS is the life i promised you honey?you know no-ones ever gonna buy you all those pretty dresses you like wearing f’me, provide for you like i do, or keep a GODDAMN roof over your head like i do!”

what he was saying was true, without him i wouldnt have a single penny to my name.he took care of every expense, he even had me on a monthly allowance but he didnt do anything of it out of the goodness of his heart he rather used it to his advantage knowing hed always win.

“i know i know but, i-im tired of you being like this bill, im sick of it!i swear ill give it all back if thats what you really want!”i nervously murmured, his grip on my chin and hair tightening.

“your such an ungrateful brat, you dont even deserve to be breathing the same air as me, i shouldve just throw you out months ago like the trashy bitch you are.”

he yelled into my face before slamming me against the wall letting go of some of his grip on me as he pulled down his pants and boxers along with my sweatpants and panties.

“you wanna be treated like a worthless whore ill fucking treat you like one then.“

he wrapped one of his arms strongly around my neck keeping me in place, as he teased his cock in between my slicks folds, causing me to softly whimper.

“aww…look at you poor baby, you just wanted some attention huh, want me to fuck you isnt that right?”he purred squeezing my neck firmly in his arm, sliding his length harshly inside my walls.

though i hated to admit it, it truly turned me on how possessive and upset he got when i tried leaving it showed me he still sort-of cared.the fact he still had enough respect to still fuck me was enough to have me eating right out of his palm, anytime he showed me the slightest bit of affection it casted his spell over me all over again.

he continued thrusting his full length inside my cunt, beginning to aggressively pound away, my head banging against the cold wall.

“ugh-i shouldnt even be mmhtouching you right now ungrateful bitch!”he shouted, his free hand slapping my ass sure enough to leave hand prints the next morning.

“f-fuck fuck, im ughh-yours baby!”i moaned out, tears beginning to spill from my eyes, his tip kissing my cervix perfectly.

“das ist r-richtig, mhm!du gehst verdammt noch mal nirgendwo hin(thats right, your not going fucking anywhere),

gonna fill you all up, hopefully y-you get pregnant that way your ugh-stuck with me!”

the sound of our moans combined with the banging on the wall echoed throughout the house, the faint tv not even being enough to cover up his disgusting insults and my foul cries.

“b-bill ugh please i c-cant!”

“take my f-fucking cock mhmy little cum slut!”

his hips are bucking into mine at an animalistic pace as he urgently chases his release, my walls deliciously clenching around his girth, sending him immediately over the edge.

“scheibe scheibe scheibe(shit shit shit!)”he yelled out suddenly fucking his cock deeper inside my sweet walls, ropes of his seed oozing deep inside my pussy.

“ich w-werde ganz in dir abspritzen du mmh-dumme s-schlampe, ich werde dich mit meinem verdammten baby schwängern (im gonna cum all inside you, stupid slut, im gonna get you pregnant with my baby!)”he adds breeding his cum inside me with a few final thrusts, pulling his length out of me with a loud pop.

bill then releases me from his arm allowing me to slam down onto the floor, pulling his pants up smugly as he knelt down to my level.

“next time im beating the fuck outta’ this was me playing nice, understood? now go make me some dinner before you piss me off again.”

i nod my head instantly at his demands, rubbing the side of my cheek that hit the ground.

“such a good little girl, i love you.” he praised grinning widely down at me before getting back up and walking away from me.

“i love you too.”

and the cycle continues.

THE END

[7ndipity]

On your period

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi looks after you on your period

Warnings: mentions of menstrual cycles, reader feeling sick, not proofread

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I based it off my own experiences, so I'm sorry if it doesn't quite work for everyone. It's not the best, but I hope you like it anyway!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

As soon as he walked into your apartment and saw the duvet from the bed in a giant y/n-shaped ball on the sofa in front of the tv, he knew what was up.

Moving quietly, in case you were asleep, he crept over, smiling when he was finally able to spot your face barely peeking out of the nest of blankets, tiredly returning his grin as he came into your line of vision.

"Hi." You croaked, voice horse from lack of use.

"Hi." He replied, leaning down and touching your cheek gently, both as a greeting and to check your temperature, knowing you sometimes ran a low fever on days like this.

"When's the last time you took any meds?"

"About noon."

Without a word, he made his way to the kitchen, returning in less than a minute with a couple pills and a bottle of water, helping you untangle from the blankets before joining you on the couch and passing you the items, which you accepted gratefully.

"Why didn't you text me earlier that you weren't feeling well?" He asked.

"Didn't wanna bother you." You mumbled.

"You're not a bother." He said, frowning as he noticed you wince uncomfortably.

It was only the first day, but that was usually when your symptoms would hit the hardest. Cramps, chills, body aches, it honestly felt like you had the flu, your only comfort was knowing that things would start to level out in a few more hours.

Well, maybe not your only comfort.

"What can I do?" Yoongi asked, quietly insistent. He hated seeing you hurting and not being able to do anything about it.

"I'll be okay, don't worry." You tried to reassure him.

"That's not what I asked." He said, giving you pointed look.

You swallowed nervously, feeling shy for some reason. "Could you maybe hold me?" You asked hesitantly.

Wordlessly once again, he climbed into your makeshift nest, shifting you both around until you were draped across his lap with your head pressed to his chest.

It still felt strangely foreign to have someone look after you like this, with such gentle, determined devotion, but you were starting to get used to it. In the past, you'd just dealt on your own, not wanting to be a burden to those around you. But as soon as you met Yoongi, all that went out the door. Anytime you felt the least bit unwell, he was at your beck and call. If you needed anything at all, be it food, meds, or just a bed warmer/nap partner, he was there for you.

You still remembered his genuine offense at your first attempts to dissuade him from coming to look after you.

"Why? It's not contagious."

"No, but-"

"Then why are you rejecting my love?!"

He'd promptly come over, armed with your favorite foods, candy and heat packs. You'd been so overwhelmed and emotional, you ended up crying and telling him you loved him for the first time that night.

Now, all these months later, he was still looking after you the same as he had then.

"You want me to stay over?" He asked after a minute.

"You don't have to do that." You sighed, already start doze against his shoulder.

"But I want to. Besides, I know you sleep better with me here." He teased.

"If you keep this up, I gonna turn into a spoiled baby." You warned.

"Will you just let me take care you, dammit." How he managed to make that sound stern and soft at the same time was a skill only Yoongi could master, making you grin.

"Fine." You relented, snuggling closer to him and pressing a small kiss to underside of his jaw. "I love you."

"I love you too, spoiled baby."

"Hey!"

[mari-thesapphic-lady]

Agathario pregnancy dialogues prompts:

-

(I had a lot of fun writing this, I have a lot of ideas about my fanfic and this is a way to share it with you. I haven't posted it yet, I'll probably do it only in November. In the meantime, enjoy these little pieces. It's my own view, but I thought flipping some things around would be funny and it made me think a lot about certain possibilities.)

Note: That's all based on my own fanfiction. Kind an epilogue thing.

Pregnancy dialogues:

“So... you're going to have a child?” “We’re going.” “Oh. Okay. Wait what?!”

“Look, if you don't want it, I can just, you know, make it disappear.” “No! No way! It's mine too!”

“So... no true form for nine months?” “Unfortunately.”

“What if it's a boy?”

“What if it's a girl?”

“NO BABY SHOWER.”

“I'm just going to collect a soul, Agatha.”

“You'll do a good job.” “Thanks.”

“I have a human growing inside of me, I'm not fine.”

“It's a cozy place. A few runes here and there and, there you go, home sweet home!”

“I feel so emotional, I need a slap to stop me crying. Sweetheart!”

“Stomach bug?” “Worse, morning sickness.”

“I'll take that.” “Hey!” “No knife playing for you!”

“My boobs hurt, I can't stop crying and I'm horny all the time, which isn't so bad, but I'm sweating in places I didn't even know humans had sweat glands!”

“Come home to me when you're done.” “Home? I like the sound of that.”

“I know it's the hormones talking, but you’re pissing me off.”

“I'm in the garden, and I don't want to be disturbed!”

“Oh, the neutral face of displeasure. What have I done this time?”

“Nothing fits me.” “Don’t say that, you look fantastic, cariño!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY BABIES?”

“Troublesome twins, mi vida!”

“Agatha, sweetheart, I love you, but if this kids gets your hips I will murder you.”

“Aww, they already look so much like me!” “Agatha! They're symphoning magic! From the womb!”

“I'd say I'm officially pregnant now.” *patting her growing belly gently*

“I've never seen you sleep for so long. I almost thought you were dead but you're Death, so.”

“I'm pregnant, not fashion-senseless. I refuse to wear these clothes.”

“You have been throwing up for hours, I'll make you some tea. Maybe it help.”

“It's enough you trying to kill me sometimes, I don't need the kids on the list.”

“WHAT'S THIS?!” “... a body?” “Not that! Look at you!”

"I don't even know how to change a diaper!"

“Kicking already?!”

“You're clingy.” “As you used to say, It's just the hormones.”

“Can we try the 'having sex to try and induce labor' thing?”

“I'm excited to see you changing a lot of dirty diapers in the near future.”

“I have stretch marks now.” “Keep them, looks good on you.”

“Nicky would love to be a big brother.”

“Using my sentences against me?” “Feels good, doesn't it?!”

“I'm craving sunflower seeds.” “Hun, you just had a huge cherry tart.” “I don't see your point, Aggie.”

“I have to do my job, Agatha!” “Fuck your job! You're carrying our offspring! Think about them! About us!”

“Do you think these babies were a mistake?”

“I think, this could be a second chance for us.”

“Do you think they'll be afraid of me? The real me?” “They're going to love you completely, cariño, just like I do.”

“Winifred? Circe? Agnes?” “Ugh, definitely none of those.”

“Since when do you paint? Wait- that's me? Uh, I look big.”

“What's the reaction of the souls you collect seeing Lady Death with a seven-month bump?”

“I'm not obligated to socialize with other pregnant women every time I go out! Why they don't stop talking too me?!”

“The bump is in the way, we can't have sex.”

“Your kids have been kicking me all day!” “Oh, so they're mine now?”

“How many babies are we having? There is enough clothes for a 100 of them.” “It never hurts to be prepare.”

“I think I'm in labor.”

“You're doing great, cariño, great.” “You aren't helping me!”

“Make it stop!” “Shh, you're almost, they're almost here.”

“Hiya, hun. It's me, your mama.”

“Look at these fingers, sweetheart, how can they be real? They're so, so tiny. Is it normal?” “It's normal, love, twins are just that tiny. Here, hold her.”

Babies/Toddlers dialogues:

“They look identical to you!” “I don't know what you're talking about, that mouth isn't mine.”

“Mami’s got you.”

“Who’s the cutest babies in the world? You are! Yes, you are!”

“I don't remember you pushing this babies out.”

“Oh we do make cute babies.”

“How many coffees is that?” “You try having two babies who refuse to sleep.”

“I'm not afraid of anything.” *twins start crying at the same time* “Maybe one thing.”

“Take a break. I’ll stay up with them.”

“So… the girls are fine, I want you to know that first, they're absolutely fine.” “What did you do?”

“If they won’t stop crying in a minute I think I am going to start crying.”

“Wakey wakey sunshine, it's your turn to change one of them.”

“I’ve never heard her cry like that..” “I tried to keep her calm but, she's missing you.”

“You have your mama's eyes, muñequita.”

“And she stopped me and asked me if I was going to take the girls to be baptized. Can you believe it?!”

“I took a baby's soul today. She was months old, like our girls.”

“Look how cute, they're crawling!”

“I hate sleep. I hate feeling sleepy. I hate sleeping.” “Yes, yes, cariño, now go to bed.”

“They're smiling...” “I told you, they'd never be afraid of you.”

“Stop wiggling! I need to get you changed!”

“If you lay a hand on my child you will lose the hand.”

“Skull lovers. Really take after your mama.”

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, mama has a headache and your crying hurts.”

“Are you day drinking?” “It’s lemonade, not whiskey.”

“Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t… You vomited on me.”

“You're dripping blood everywhere!” “Sorry, is there a place you'd prefer I stand and bleed?” “The bathroom. It's easier to clean up and to keep the girls away.”

“Don’t give your mama too much trouble.”

“Nah-ah-ah, do not eat that, hun!”

“No daycare, Agatha, there's no way! It's the third time in the week that she ripped out an animal's soul, imagine a child!”

“Whiskey, brandy, wine or water?” “Pour me a glass of water and I may be one leaving this time.”

“Come on little one, walk over to mama!”

“Mami, ma-mi.” “Mami!” "... Agatha, she said mami first!"

“Throw your food around one more time and there will be consequences!”

“How did she get there?” “Get down from there little lady!”

“Come on, hon-” “No.” “Pero, muñequita-” “No, mami!”

“I already want one more.” “Let's see how we're handling these two.”

“Te amo!” “... Did she just?”

“Don’t, don't run, honey, you'll fall– I warned you.”

“Di mami, ma-mi.” “Mami!” “Eso, muy bueno, mi chiquita!”

“Cariño, she's unwittingly torturing a squirrel's soul again.”

“Fuck!” “Fuck.” “Nooo. Don’t repeat that, it’s a naughty word. Your mama won't like it.” “... Fuck!”

“Please never become one of the angry teens in the sitcoms.”

“Sweetheart, catch her! She ran away from the bathtub again!”

 “That's a grown-up grimoire, sweetie, why don’t you hand this to me. Yea, that's right, carefully-”

“Mami's bony face!” “Ey, chiquita- Stop laughing, Agatha.”

“Okay, time to sleep.” “ ’nother story?” “Sweetie, I just read you a story.” “Witch's Road!” “Witch's Road!” “Ugh fine, you win, the story or the ballad?”

“You know, i’m kind of surprised your children aren’t seriously injured at this point with you two being their parents.” “Haha, yeah… yet.” “What do you mean not yet?”

“My daughters are more talented in magic than me and they're only two years.”

“It’s your turn, go on.” “They’re your daughters before four o’clock in the morning.”

“My little girl’s better than yours!” “It's not a competition.” “Who said?”

“Mama! Look at me!” “Yes, hun, wh- WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Girls, let go of my dagger, mama won't like this.”

“Fine, fine, rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go calm down her.”

“I don't know how I survived with you cooking.” “Is this how you thank me?” “For burnt pancakes? Yes.”

“Was she crying, because of this?!” “Looks like someone's attached to mami's bony face.”

“Purple!” “Yeah, muñequita, it's mommy's watercolor, spread on the couch.”

“I've caught her watching you when you're outside and I think she's been shy about asking you to take it with you to the garden. You could probably let her help you with your garden.” “She’s just two, Aggie. What if she eats dirt, or worse, the flowers?”

“Agatha, I swear— If we have a child while the others are in diapers I will murder you.” “Why are you saying that?” “I'm feeling something, probably maternal intuition.”

It's probably not what many of you expected, but I always think it's cute to imagine Rio, who's Lady Death, Death itself, giving birth, you know?

Living all this confusion and mess that's pregnancy. It would be cute and funny, the effects of pregnancy on someone considered as powerful as Rio, all the dilemmas of motherhood, after all those centuries, after losing Nicky, and after the pain she and Agatha felt. It's not like I think pregnancy fixes or saves a relationship, that's not the baby's job, who has no responsibility for being there and existing, it's the parents' job to understand each other, and that's exactly what I wanted to explore with agathario here. A few domesticity years and a few adorable daughters.

This all takes place in 2009, and I'm still going to write about them during this period of pregnancy, and probably when the twins were little too.

-

AAA's full of angst but let's see the happy side of all!

We gained so much with them, and I LOVE this couple so much, they made history!

So let's enjoy a little and save our tears before the last episodes!

[mangyraccooon]

Thoughts about Modern day Dragon him being a late diagnosed autistic

Dragon would be one of those people who knew they were different from a young age but never could figure it out because either parents (who didn’t want a ‘different’ child) or becoming so high masking that it was very difficult to tell. (Probably a mix of both)

When Dragon is 40ish he takes luffy to the doctor for a routine checkup.

The doctor tells him his son is most likely autistic.

She also tells him it’s an inherited trait

Dragons reaction is “ah.”

He never thought luffy was different. That wasn’t true he understood luffy was different but it wasn’t a bad thing in his eyes.

Unknowingly at 7 years old dragon put on a mask. It starts to crack 33 years later in a doctor’s office.

The doctor gives him some pamphlets and online resources to go through. He spends the next 24 hours going through it all + several online quizzes.

Only the next morning when he opens his closet fully prepared to go into work: when he sees all his shirts and suit jackets. That he realizes he has no idea who the fuck he is as a person.

Luffy finds him crying in a mess of ripped silks and cotton.

Luffy crawls into his lap and starts telling him about a new beetle species found in South America.

Dragon calls them both in sick and lets his son decide the schedule for the day.

Later that night he goes through old boxes in the attic. Trying to find who the fuck he is- was- could’ve been.

He finds a couple old albums, his guitar, luffys baby blanket and…

Crying is natural and normal, he has to tell himself. You are not weak for crying twice in one day.

The ring is old, it was his mother’s. It had been left with his secretary along with luffy asleep in his bassinet.

“Sometimes I feel like you just put on this face and I don’t even know which one is the real you; or if there is a real you”

He would never know how right he had been.

Dragon quits his job; he can’t stand it anymore. The partners beg him to stay, he’s the best lawyer they have. But the feeling of a suit collar now feels like a noose.

Borsalino is the only one who still contacts him after.

Dragon has money; so much money. Other than luffy and silk shirts that didn’t scrape his skin there was very little dragon spent money on.

So he glides, spends more time with luffy. Falls into a depressive episode so bad he has to stay with his mother. Tsuru purses her lips when he tells her and dragon can’t help but feel a little angry.

“You knew.”

“I suspected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed to be fine.”

But dragon hadn’t been fine, he had been miserable. It was only now he could see how miserable he had been.

He cooks with his step mother who teaches him how to make a puff pastry. Luffy meets a boy down the street who also loves bugs. Life goes on.

Luffy gets a assessment and official diagnosis

The adhd part wasn’t that surprising to Dragon or anyone within 5 seconds of meeting luffy. his son is (affectionately) a human bounce ball.

Dragon gets an official diagnosis and sends a photo of him posing with it to borsalino. Borsalino sends a photo of himself and an online quiz. And dragon understands not everyone needs the word of a doctor to know who they are.

Garp barges into his life and demands he “stop being a freeloader and get a job.” Before flopping on the couch and doing just that.

Dragon gets the drag bar gig out of spite. Iva is the best worst thing that has ever happened to him. After finding out he knew guitar the queen needled him until he started practicing again out of spite (once again he had to stop using that as motivation)

The guitar strings cut at his fingertips.

Garp sets him up on a blind date, which ends with both him and rouge laughing themselves silly. Apparently garp had taken dragons “I like dick” comment to mean anyone who was in possession of a penis (even if it was silicone.)

He turns 42 and has to valiantly fend off Luffy, Ace and Rouge from eating his rack of ribs.

Iva gets him up on stage eventually (he was fine behind the bar)

He did like the eyeliner though and how his shoulders looked in the dress (but that was a thought for another day)

The band thing was a joke (or started as one) rouge sang, dragon played bass, iva played electric and kuma drummed his heart out.

Then it became less of a joke.

It was late, the porch was empty and the moon twinkled. Dragon cradled the phone in his hands. They had gotten a record deal.

He punched in the number slowly.

He was 45 now, he could do this.

The phone rang as he held it up to his ear.

His palms were sweaty.

Voicemail

“I uh-“ what was he supposed to say? “Hi, it’s been awhile. A long time actually- fuck I think I could tell you the exact date if I wasn’t drunk. But- you probably dont want to hear that huh?” He laughed, his breath coming out in a small cloud in the autumn air.

“So a lot happened, since you left. And I don’t blame you for leaving- just so we are clear. Yeah uhmm. So the band. I’m part of a band now surprise! We got a record deal and it made me realize I still- well that is, when I was told. I realized, your the only one I wanted to tell”

“And not in a bragging way!” He added hastily

A beeping noise, indicating the end of the message

“Wani I-“

But the message ended

-should I make this into an actual thing? Lemme know

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

December 13 - Hot Chocolate | word count: 996 | @wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius hates when other people are in pain.

Maybe it’s just a trauma response from his childhood and having to see Reggie in pain, but now, even when somebody around him is even the slightest bit uncomfortable, he will go out of his way to remedy that. Which is why, as soon as he suspected about Remus being a werewolf, he did as much research into the topic as he could. He learned everything Remus refused to tell them.

About the aches and pains werewolves suffered both before and after the full moon—some experienced the antsy wolf worse than others, and sadly, Sirius suspected Remus was one of them. About how they feel a chill in their bones that won’t thaw—Remus generally goes about the castle wearing as many jumpers as he can pull over his head. About how they feel repulsive and think others feel the same—he knows well about the paranoia. He learned about how they find comfort in things that remind them they are human—physical touch, comfortable clothes, their favorite foods, people they recognize—so Sirius does as much as he can to give Remus those without overstepping boundaries.

Which is why right now, he is balancing a nearly overflowing mug of hot chocolate up from the kitchens. Under his other arm is an enchanted blanket with an intricate heating charm that doesn’t just warm the skin, but deeper inside the body as well—he had to seek out Regulus’ help for this one—as much has he hates to admit it, Regulus is far better at advanced spells than anybody else he knows.

Remus returned to the dorm room just a few hours ago now, leaving Sirius with the complicated task of slipping through the common room, uninterrupted, and untouched. Luckily, the others seem to recognize the Black scowl, and pull away. As much has he hates resorting to using the power his family has, he won’t hesitate to use it if it means Remus feels himself again.

Because Sirius can’t stand the long silences, the blank stare, the shivers, the distancing, any of it. He needs Remus in his life like he needs his lungs to breathe. Inseparable, necessary. If Remus leaves, simply because he thinks himself too much of a burden, Sirius is certain he will fall apart. Which he knows is an odd thought for a thirteen-year-old, but he can’t help the way he feels.

“Hey, Rem.”

“Sirius?” He croaks in surprise. Sirius can also see the way he forces his body to relax, trying not to show an ounce of pain on his face. But the slight crinkle around his eyes and the stiffness of his limbs gives him away.

“I brought something for you.”

“You did?”

“Of course. Here.” Kneeling on the bed, he wraps the blanket around Remus, whose eyes blink open wide in surprise. He knows exactly how it feels—he tested it himself to make sure it worked properly—like a warm hug. Physical touch, check. Warmth, check. Remus is already wearing his favorite jumper, check. His favorite food, modified slightly to help ease the cold, check. Somebody he recognizes, check.

“Oh.” He accepts the mug, and immediately takes a sip. “Oh, this is delicious. Where did you get it?”

Suddenly, the blanket under his twiddling fingers is far more interesting. “I owled your mum. I know you mentioned how much you love her hot chocolate, and I figured with… everything, that you would appreciate a little bit of home right now.”

“I…”

He finally looks up, only to find a devastating sight. Remus is crying. That defeats the purpose of everything he was trying to do. He should be smiling right now, forgetting about the pain and returning to himself, to Sirius’ Remus.

“Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong? I’ll—”

“You did this for me?” Remus chokes out.

“Yeah, of course. Why not?”

“Because…. Because… why?”

“I… um… I know.”

“You know? Know what?”

“I know that you… I know—I know where you were three nights ago.”

“I was in the hospital wing. You know I get sick a lot, Sirius.” He is trying to seem casual, but Sirius can catch the slip of panic in his tone.

“You weren’t there, Rem. I went to check in on you, but you weren’t there.” He can sense Remus’ entire body go stiff. He can tell, that this moment, right here, right now, is what determines their future. Will Remus turn away and leave him alone, or will he fight the paranoia and acknowledge that Sirius accepts him as he is. “It’s alright. I know you think you are a burden, but you aren’t. You are the best person I have in my life, and I couldn’t imagine losing you.”

“But… but I’m a monster.”

“So is my mother, but I’m not afraid of her.”

“Sirius—”

“I’m being serious here. I know, and I’m not afraid. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

“How did you find out?”

“I’m good at reading people.” He shrugs. “I also hate to see other people in pain if there is something I can do to help.”

“Do the others know?”

“Nah. It’s your secret to tell, and I’ll support you whether you want to tell them or not.”

“Thanks, Sirius. You are the best friend I could ask for.”

For whatever reason, Sirius’ heart aches at the word friend. It is so insignificant. He always hated these labels people stick on their relationships to help make them make sense. His mother is hardly his mother if she locks him in closets and invades his mind, Professor McGonagall, is more of a mother to him, but he can never label her as such because of “societal norms” or whatever. And yes, Remus is his friend, but he is so much more, Sirius isn’t sure there is a label for it.

But still, he smiles, “Of course, Rem.”

Friends.

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails with minho before death knocks

✰ pairings: sick!minho x gn!reader

✰ genre: angst, romance, grief

✰ warnings: major character death, mentions of alzheimer’s illness, lots of what ifs and unsaid thoughts, forever isn’t for ever.

✰ word count: 1.2k + words

MINHO | chan | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

hey, uhm i honestly don’t know what to say but i’ll try. so it’s five forty in the morning and i’m sending these to you. the doctors– they said i won’t be able to m-make it. . . and i want to reassure you that whatever happened wasn’t your fault. at all, my kitten. we didn’t know i had this terminal illness, and i think now is the perfect time to say those things i never said. firstly, i love you so much. more than you can imagine. and yes, even more than that tv show of mine. there’s honestly so much to say, but there’s so little time. i have only 2-3 more hours, i suppose? and i begged the doctor to not call you before i’m gone. i know this isn’t fair to you my little star, but i don’t want to see you in pain because of me, or anyone else. which is why i’m afraid of letting go of your hand. afraid that if i go, you will try to follow me blindly, do the wrong things, walk down the wrong paths and will end up losing yourself. i don’t ever want that to happen. ever. so, please don’t cry when i’m gone. i guess you can cry a bit. . . but not much. what if you end up getting a sore throat? if you do, take the medicines from the second drawer in the bathroom, okay?

two 𖨂

i’ll miss you. your goofy faces that you make, your cute little squeaks between your laughs, your beautiful eyes that always shine when you see chocolates and you. all of you. i’ll miss all of you so much. how about you? will you miss me too? will you bake your cinnamon rolls that i love so much at the funeral? or on my birthday? will you? i’m not even sure what happens after death. whether i will even remember you or not, i don’t know. but what i know is, that i’ll watch over you from up there. i’ll always watch. so don’t be afraid to step out of the house after it gets dark. and if you do, carry that pepper spray with you, okay? doesn’t it feel so surreal? me becoming a star, when i always call you my little star? i guess that’s why i’ll have to watch over you from afar. me, a big star. you, my cute little star. i’ll shine bright in the sky, i’m sure of that. so don’t you dare lose that shine on you as well, alright?

three 𖨂

it feels weird and- and scary. i’m so nervous, love. i didn’t want to die like this, never! i wanted to live a long life with you. live with our three little cats, and maybe a few mini versions of ourselves running around our house. i wanted to see you grow old. and i want to keep loving you even when you put hair brushes into the freezer and dishes in the bathroom, i want to be with you. right by your side. and even when you forget to brew your evening coffee, i want to hold your hand and guide you. and even when you keep repeating the same words three times a day, i will pretend it’s new. so that you don’t have to remember that you’re forgetting. yeah, i know it. the doctors told me you can have alzheimer’s over time, it’s highly possible. but i’m afraid i won’t be able to take care of you kitten. and i’m sorry– i really am. i wish it didn’t have to end this way.

four 𖨂

i know you. you were looking for forever. i couldn’t give you that. but i can at least take the batteries out of the clocks so that we’ll be stuck inside this moment as if time had really been stopped. so that i’ll almost get a million extra seconds to spend with you, except here seconds do not exist. it’s only the two of us. you and i. in our forever. and when i die, you can crank your watch– restart the clocks and begin the time. and know that we were infinite the moment you were mine. i’ll always be yours. always. i promise. but i want you to move on. i want you to experience love again while you’re still young. i’ll support every decision of yours from up there, and i’ll cheer on you. i don’t ever want to hold you back. nuh-uh. i want you to move forward, and even though you can look back, i don’t ever want you think you could’ve changed the past. you need to walk on a different road now. one without me. and though it hurts to say this– you need to live without me. live for us. live for the future you always wanted. live to complete those bucket lists of yours and even mine, since i couldn’t complete even a single of them. live. just live happily.

five 𖨂

it’s ten minutes past seven, and i feel sick. pain scale infinite/100. my whole body feels on fire. my hands– they wouldn’t stop trembling no matter how hard i try. my lips have turned pale, and i feel it coming. i can sense it. i can sense death waiting on the door. waiting that the moment i finish it’s going to snatch me away from you, from this world. and i’m trying to stall time. but my body doesn’t listen to me anymore. it’s become weaker and more. . . stubborn. my love. i wish i could call you that more often. my little star. my kitten. all these nicknames are the only way i survived my nights admitted in this hospital. i used to think of you. think of what you would do after i’m gone. think of what you would feel. think of who else would cry for me. and i don’t know what to do. i really don’t. i feel just so helpless. i don’t know what to do anymore. i really don’t. i hope you’re not sad because of it. please don’t be. take care of our three beautiful children okay? tell them that their father has gone to a beautiful place, show them your love, sing to them at night and take them in your arms when you feel sad. and if you ever miss me, look at the rain, or the stars or the clouds, i’ll always be here to listen. always. just as i promised.

six 𖨂

i hoped that death would be a bit kinder. i hoped she gave me some more time, some more years i could spend loving, admiring and memorizing every bit of you. but it’s always unexpected. she comes in unexpected ways and takes away our loved ones in the blink of an eye. i’m talking like a true poet now, aren’t i? give that pink letter to my parents, green one for each members and blue one for you. tell them to open that after a week, it applies to you as well, missy. be kinder to yourself. love yourself. look at the mirror and think of my compliments. felix gives the best hugs. hug him if you feel low. if you ever feel drained out like me. i’m tired now. just– so so tired. can i rest now? please? i’ll always love you regardless of whatever may come. and i’ll always be in your heart. i’m about to be a star, my love. s-signing off, yours forever.

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