#I regret life as I look at that last sentence

[vampzworld]

the one on which he worships you seonghwa x fem reader

MINORS DNI || this is a work of fiction, f i c t i o n. this isn't a representation of seonghwa in real life. || otherwise enjoy, and please dont plagiaries my work.

this is also my first time posting something on here so... idk how this is gonna go, but my friends said this is too good not to share so.. imma share. :) mwah :3

OH THERES A PLAYLIST I GATHERED TOO LET ME JUST :

summoning by sleep token

Chokehold by sleep token

Right here by chase atlantic

Candy by doja cat (PLAY THIS WHEN IT SAYS)

Wicked games by the weeknd

Renegade by aaryan shah

Earned it by the weeknd

Best friends by the weeknd

Im yours by isabel la rosa

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“A sign from god ? the gods? You are an angel. I am enraptured by your everything.” genre: friends/lovers, sexual tension. idk what else just enjoy <3 luv, mother. word count: 1757... ---------------------------------------------------

You just got off work and it was late at night, not too late where anyone was concerned but enough to get Seonghwa to text you and ask where you were. You guys worked under the same company but have been friends for years. You just broke up with your boyfriend so he had a reason to text and be concerned. You ignore his text and get in your car, you were an hour away from home. The drive home was peaceful until your phone was going off every other 2 minutes, you didn’t bother to check because you already knew who it was. You shoot Seonghwa a quick text, reassuring him that you are okay. The texts stop for a while, 8 minutes later you get a call from him. “Yes, Hwa how can i help you ?” you ask, rolling your eyes as you get on the last highway home. “Where are you?” he asks in a monotone kind of voice. “On the highway, can i finish my drive home in peace?” you retort. Lowkey regretting it, can he get a little demonic ? overprotective. Yea but he just cares about you that's all and needs you to be safe. “I’ll be waiting” he hangs up. THE FUCK is that supposed to fucking mean. You push it aside and the drive home goes by faster than you expected. You had no worries or regrets about the call, if only you knew what you were going home to. You get home, park your car and get in the elevator on the way to your apartment. Everything feels fine, so you calm down. Still pondering what Hwa meant as you walk to the elevator, you reminisce on how he growled his last sentence to you. You squeeze your legs in response to butterflies moving into your abdomen, no that's not right. Hwa is your friend and bitch get a grip you just got out of a relationship. That can't take away from what your body needs. 

You need to be fucked. You need Seonghwa. It's wrong. It is downright sinful, but you love it. Pressure further builds up throughout your entire body. You shake your head as you exit the elevator and begin the trip to your apartment. (candy by doja cat) You unlock your door and are taken aback by who you see sitting on your couch. Seonghwa is spread out on your couch with a look on his face only the devil himself can recreate. “What are you doing here Hwa?” you ask, setting down your things and making your way towards your couch. “ What.. how the FUCK did you get in?” you ask sitting down. He doesn’t speak, he just looks you up and down. Studying you like the mona lisa, his gaze is ravenous and you are matching the energy without even knowing. “You want me huh ?” he asks in a low tone. You gulp, wondering how he knew that. He moves near you slowly, hands gently tracing your legs and moving further. “Tell me you don’t want this” he says as he moves his hands to your thighs. “Tell me this is a sin, tell me this is wrong” he says as he moves up to your face, his breath tingling your neck sending chills down your body. You shudder as he nips your ear, “Tell me you don’t want this and I will stop” he says placing soft kisses on your neck and he unzips your jacket. You stop him and he looks you in your eyes with a look that is ravenous yet innocent. He is begging to experience you, taste you. He is ravenous. Is this wrong ? yes. Have you wanted him since the dawn of time ? yes. You nodded yes and he takes that and turns into someone you never knew existed. He starts at your neck placing rough passionate kisses on your neck, ones that will leave a mark. He slips off your jacket with a swiftness, and takes his hands down to your waist gripping it tightly like he is gonna lose you. He takes your shirt off revealing your boobs, he b-lines and latches on like a breastfeeding child. Playing with your nipples in his mouth, you arch your back in response to the pleasure. He takes note of that and massages your thighs and continues onto the other boob. You moan at the sensation, a heat building up between your legs. 

This is wrong so wrong, but it feels so right. 

He lays you down on your couch, taking your pants off slowly, never breaking eye contact. “So pretty baby, look at you so beautiful” he says as he places gentle kisses on your legs as your pants are finally off your legs. He makes eye contact with you before he gets up on his knees towering over you, the look he gives you makes you wet beyond belief. “Baby, you’re wet for me aren’t you?” he asks you as he makes his way to your underwear. He plays with your clit from the outside, you want him inside. You try to get more friction and it doesn't work. His free hand flies to your throat pinning you down, “Stay where I fucking have you” he growls making himself level with your pussy. He slides your underwear down so slow, you moan in angst. He goes even slower than before making you ache. Your ex could never make you feel like this. “You are beautiful” he moans as he kisses your inner thigh. You get wetter each tender kiss he lays on your body, blissful moans fill the air. LUST lingers all around you two. You moan as he kisses your clit finally. “A sign from god ? the gods? You are an angel. I am enraptured by everything.” he says before he latches onto your clit. A new sensation possesses you and he goes harder against your clit. His tongue dives into your pussy as his nose rubs perfectly against your clit. Sending you into overdrive. “You are perfect baby” he moans into your vagina as he carries on to eat you like you were the last meal he was going to have. He continues to hit every spot perfectly, making you moan uncontrollably. “I-I’m gonna cum” you moan as you try to squirm out of his death grip. He swiftly moves you so that you are sitting on his face. “Drown me baby, I don’t care if you think I can’t breathe.” he says as he rubs your clit with his thumb stimulating you perfectly. “You are a goddess who deserves to be worshiped, if I die between your legs I will have died a happy man. Now fuck my face” as he yanks you down onto his face moving your hips. Sending you into a bliss where you swear you can taste the stars. You finally come back to earth and start to ride his face, the vibrations from his moans send you to heaven and back. You start to ride out your high and he moans louder into your pussy. You cum and he holds you down, drinking from you like you are the fountain of youth. You ride out your high and get off his face. Revealing a drenched Seonghwa, you feel like you need more. 

You work your way to his waistband, unbuckling his belt and moving onto his pants.  Seonghwa looks at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. He helps you take off his pants. “You know I have been dreaming of you for years” he says as you climb onto his lap as you grind on his dick making him stutter. He hugs you tightly as you continue to grind on his dick, making him rock hard under you. “ Please fuck me, please I beg” he whimpers igniting something in you, something you didnt know but liked. Liked all too much. You tease him furthermore, watching him throw his head back. Unable to control himself. “Please, Please fuck me. Ride me, Use me. I NEED you” he begs. You slide yourself down slowly onto his dick, making him whimper and grip your waist so tight, you know it's going to bruise in the morning. You go slowly at first, driving him insane, enjoying how his eyes are rolling back. You brush his hair out of his face, and grab his face forcing him to look at you as you go faster. “You are the bane of my existence, I dream of you day and nigh-” he manages to get out before he’s a moaning mess due to you going faster. You are slowly losing yourself too but you want to watch him unravel more. You gather yourself as you force him to look at you as you ride him, he keeps eye contact with you. Then his switch flips, he grabs your hips tight and brings you up and slams you back down on his dick over and over again. Causing your tits to bounce, he sucks on one then continues to slam you on his dick over and over. Finally giving you a break. “Cute, you thought you were in control, sit down and take this dick” he says as he fucks into you harder, hugging you he slams into you harder with each thrust. “Good girl, taking this dick like you should have been when you were with that lame. You belong to me.” he says and he lets you go and lets you ride, “say you’re mine” he says as he chokes you. “I'm yours hwa, im yours” you say as you moan nearing the edge. “Whose pussy is this?” he asks, looking you in your eyes pushing you closer. “Yours, it's yours” you cry out. Seonghwa rolls his eyes and throws his head back, “I’m gonna nut in you” he moans as he comes back to your face, fallin in love with the person he is seeing. “Do it” you say with a smirk. You guys cum at the same time, moans fill the air. The smell of lust fills your apartment. You guys ride out your high together making eye contact, nothing else matters. Fuck a noise complaint.

You guys come back down to Earth, he looks at you “ You are a goddess and I cant wait to fuck you everyday after this” he says as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

This is downright sinful but what does it matter? You're his finally and you don’t care who knows.  ----------------------------------

this is my first time posting anything on here of this nature, so enjoy ?? i guess idk, im super shy and anxious forgive me. if you liked it please leave a comment or wtv tf tumblr calls it and reblog. tell a friend or a neighbor. if you'd like to be tagged in the next thing i post (possibly)

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https://forms.gle/toC2XbXfXLzzbPmZ6

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good night my batz !! until next time..

mother.

[martianbugsbunny]

It's giving Kalluzeb in the jungle of Yavin

[yinyuedijun]

translation

Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.

When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.

Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.

But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.

You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.

When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.

“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”

“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”

Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.

You understand him well enough to know that.

“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”

You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.

You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”

Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.

“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.

Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.

He regrets it almost immediately.

When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.

“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.

“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”

Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?

But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.

There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.

There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.

Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.

Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.

Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.

But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.

When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.

“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.

You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”

“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”

You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”

You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”

“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.

But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.

“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”

Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.

Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.

But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE

The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.

He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.

So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.

“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.

“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.

“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”

“You've just reminded me how.”

“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.

“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.

“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.

“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”

“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”

You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.

“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”

You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”

And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.

And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.

He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—

As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.

His throat locks up.

“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.

“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”

He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”

“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”

Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.

“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.

It's a feeling he has to kill.

“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”

This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.

The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.

If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?

“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”

You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.

Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.

You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.

But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—

Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.

But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.

Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.

His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.

Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.

In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.

Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.

In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.

So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.

The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.

This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.

It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.

Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

[yanderederee]

Perfect

ctw: Yandere themes ~ explicit nsfw midway

part1 … part2 … part3 … now~ … part5

“I’m just worried about you!”

“You shouldn’t get so close, yaknow…”

“He’s going to hurt you one of these days!”

Mikey really couldn’t stand your friends sometimes.

They thought they knew the whole picture. Some goody two shoes who fell head first for the bad boy who never came to school.

It’s not like they bothered to acknowledge how you two genuinely got to know one another, how you helped get him back on track with school, how you looked at him like he held the world in his hands, or how deeply he cared— really cared for you.

All they wanted to acknowledge was how you never had any free time anymore. ‘He’s so clingy’ this, and ‘can’t we talk alone?’ That.

Sure, maybe Mikey hated when you looked at someone other than him for longer than ten seconds. But that didn’t make him a bad boyfriend!

“What’cha guys talking about?~” Mikey smiled innocently when he came up behind you. The girls surrounding you gasped, and backed away immediately.

Mikey was so friendly, how could they reject him so harshly? Maybe it was the death glare he burned into their skin, or the threats he made to them days prior for trying to fuel your head with all this nonsense to begin with.

“Morning, Manjiro~” you smiled back, placing your hand softly on the arm he slung over you protectively.

You never cared how other people saw you, even if you were dating the most notorious delinquent in Shinjuku and Shibuya alike.

And that same indifferent nature was just another reason you had him wrapped around your finger.

One of your friends clicked her tongue, and glared at you. “Whatever, don’t come crying to us about it later.”

You were a tough cookie. It took a lot to get under your skin. Yet somehow, that did.

Little by little, anyone who you used to interact with would suddenly give you the cold shoulder. No more friendly smiles or casual waves. If you even were acknowledged, it was with strained levels of respect, addressing you only by your family name, or curt bows.

No doubt from Mikey’s influence.

Still, if no one else, you had your Manjiro. His undeniable presence of security and words of comfort… he had only ever meant to give you the world, and in secret, punish anyone who would dare separate you.

“They don’t know nothing,” Mikey waved off your friends before hugging you close. You didn’t bother to point out his grammatical mistake. “You know I’d never make you cry, right?” He asked with his watery puppy eyes.

Smile so pure, you ruffled the mess of hair on Mikey’s head. “Course not.” You agreed.

He loved when you agreed with him. Validated his delusions.

“I can’t wait for our next study session~” Mikey sighed in contentment, a soft blush hanging over his features. Your face too caught heat at the taboo mention, in school no less. “T-that was..” you tried coming up with the words that could properly display your thoughts on yesterday, but Mikey loved finishing your sentences for you. “Heavenly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to heaven in my life, than I had then…”

Mikey nuzzled the bridge of his nose into the crook of your exposed neck, regretful he hadn’t left any long lasting love bites behind, like he intended. He was too enthralled in other sensations, but tonight, he’d make sure not to be so negligent.

“You’re so cute,” you giggled at his words of sentiment. “But don’t get spoiled now.”

Mikey narrowed his eyebrows in a pout. “Not fair~” he whined into your shoulder, unfazed by the looks of shock or ridicule classmates around you were giving at the public display of… affection.

Turning your head, you kissed your Manjiro’s scalp lovingly. “Fine fine~ just be patient. After school, okay?” You affirmed in a soft spoken tone.

Mikey smirked.

He loved how easily you gave in to him.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ nsfw below ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

“M-ma—! Manjiro..!” You yelled desperately, feeling your legs tense so harshly, you began to shake uncontrollably. “Pl-please, I-I’m—!”

But your voice only fueled the desire that flooded Mikey’s senses.

The feeling of your soft thighs against his hands. Your smell. The way playing with you made you scream. It was surreal, like nothing he had ever experienced. The adrenaline of doing these things for the first time only amped his speed further.

Ever since you showed Mikey how to pull back your clitoral hood and exposed your most sensitive parts, he’s been infatuated.

Exploring his tongue over the bundle of nerves, he tried everything, til his hearts content. Shallow licks, slow at first, until he crescendo’d the movement into a quick zig zag motion. The first orgasm he got out of you was evident and loud.

He was so glad he moved his room to the shed, lest his grandfather kill him for his inappropriate actions.

Yet still, even when you twirled his locks into your gentle fists to pull him up, he hurried himself deeper into you. This was heaven, like he said before. How could you take what away from him?

With a more broad sweep of his tongue, he made sure to slowly taste all the wetness you’d produced from your first orgasm. So sweet.

Just as slow as he started, adding pressure from the tip of his tongue, he started from your exposed clit, down til he felt the inward dip of your fluttering hole.

Your moan was soft and low, the movement perfectly easing you down from sensations just seconds ago. But he wanted to keep going, see what sounds you would make by sucking on you.

A drawn out whine escaped your throat when he’d done this. “I-I’m sensitive..! You can’t-“ you tried reasoning with him, but his lazy hooded gaze spoke for itself: he was having the time of his life.

With another hard suck, you whined loud, and threw your head back. “Ahh!—“

God, your cries alone could render him into a horny mess. More, he decided. He wanted to hear more of those sounds. Putting in the extra work, the grip he had on your legs slid up til your hips were under his strength. Pulling your hips upward, he pressed his tongue unbearably closer.

You always gave him just what he wanted. Louder; his name escapes your lips like a mantra. Mikey couldn’t get enough. Just as the muscle of his tongue and your squirming hips met a comfortable rhythm, it was only a matter of minutes before you felt that familiar tension building inside you again.

“M-Mikey! Gonna’..” you made weak attempts at warning him of your oncoming release, but the release overtook your senses before you could do so. A moan more pornographic and sincere soon blessed Manjiro’s eager ears.

You were heaven. It was obvious now, all his blessings in this world was squirming right under him. Your essence. Your angelic cries. The way your thighs cradled him impossibly closer— the way your toes curled and shaking body rattled the frame of his bed.

You were his euphoria.

It was a shame your head was thrown back. He tried getting a good look at your face when you cried so sweetly, but couldn’t.

Enjoying the last few involuntary thrusts your body released, Mikey finally release your core with a loud sounding pop.

His lips were red from friction, but he’d never been happier. Attentions all about you, he slowly rose to his knees on the bed, trying to see your face. His hands stayed glued to your hips as his fingertips traced the curves of your body.

“Manjiro…” you breathed out quietly, turning to reveal your glazed over eyes. Mikey smiled wide, feeling his heart skip a beat at the sight of you.

“You’re so perfect.”

You would never be able to leave Manjiro. For years to come, you would faithfully remain his. Lest the taste of death come between you.

[jester089]

Gotta say, massive fan of the work you’ve pumped out, especially for TADC (it came out two weeks or so ago and there’s this much already what?!)

That said, could you write for the gang (separately, I’m sorry l know it’s a lot) who’s s/o resisted abstraction? Like, they were halfway through but turned back through sheer will? *Insert John Wick reference* This has been ping ponging in my head for a while. Thanks for listening! XO

Glitchy pain

I've written for something like this before. And I wasn't sure if you wanted angst or fluff. But since what I wrote before was angst I'm gonna just donna do my ideas on this one. Also to anyone else who feels like requesting don't be afraid to ask for a lot of characters. My max is like 10 and only because Tumblr doesn't like super long posts. I honestly don't think I would have a max if not for that. But really from like 7 pm to 4 am I got a lot of free time and the want to write. So ask to your hearts content. TADC crew x (kind of) abstracted reader

Caine

Caine was floating around when he heard what sounded like a pained and glitchy scream? He quickly floats over to where he heard it from only to find you clutching your head crumpled up into a ball on the floor. He was about to float down and ask you what happened before he noticed the random glitches, black spiky flesh, and randomly colored eye balls all appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. So he backed off, a little sad over the fact you were abstracting but life goes on. Until you let out another pained scream, it was almost like the abstraction reacted as the second you screamed it reverted a bit and slowed down. It continues like that for who knows how long. You in a mental and physical battle with abstraction. Caine just staring completely taken back by what he was witnessing. After enough time you vomit a nasty and seemingly living blob of black goo onto the floor and pass out. Caine stares at your motionless body for a few seconds before snapping out of it. He puts the weird goo blob into the cellar and takes you back to your room. He doesn't even know how to react, so he sits there at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. Once you do he is relived to find it's still you, speaking in full sentences and everything. Sure your voice and body have the occasional glitch but overall you're ok. So he leaves you be, mostly. He still needs to study your code for how you did that. But past that and him being a bit more "walking on egg shells" around you, but nothing really changes. And not wanting the others to think your a threat, you and Caine don't tell anyone.

Gangle

Gangle was wandering around looking for you. Her comedy mask broke again and you were the only one who knew how to fix it properly. She could patch it up sure but it never lasted long. Much like Caine she heard you scream out, only difference being she recognized your voice. She quickly changed from casual and aimless stroll to sprint with reason finding you leaned against a wall holding your stomach looking like your about to throw up. She runs up to you and places a hand(?) on each side of your head staring into your eyes. She in a panicked voice asks "Are you ok?! What happened?!" You half shove her away a garbled and messy version of your voice half screaming out that it isn't safe. You quickly regret taking the energy to speak and move as a giant surge of pain jolts up your digital spine forcing you onto your knees. You let out another pained groan/scream as black goo starts oozing out of your mouth. It's only then that Gangle realizes your glitching! She panics and tells you to stay calm while she gets Caine. Gangle sprints off with a mission luckily finding Caine rather quickly. She especially screams at him to help her/follow her. He listens and follows her. When she gets back to where she left you, your passed out. But you aren't glitching anymore. And your not fully abstracted. She carefully walks over to you and sets a gentle hand (ribbon) on your face feeling a whole lot of relief when you half swat at her hand in your sleep. She'll watch you while you sleep making sure you aren't disturbed but when you're awake and she's sure you're ok you are going to be getting a whole lot of cuddles from her. Her comedy mask can wait.

Zooble

Zooble was missing a leg and was hobbling/jumping her way towards your room to ask if you'd seen it. She knocked on your door only to receive no response. She knocks again. Nothing. So she unlocks it with the spare key you gave her. She is stunned by what she sees. Obsessive scribbles covering your walls. Wall paper torn and dirtied. She takes a few cautious steps before finally hearing you say in a horrible sounding voice "P̵̛̣̤̪̑̈́̄͆̚p̴̹͇̆̑̐͠ṕ̷͔̼͙̅̀͐̿͋͜͝P̵̢͚̩̱̮̭̉͜͠l̵͔̟̰̘̼̹̼̯͉͆ḛ̴̣͈̖͛̈́̏̏͌̕͜a̴̢͇̣̮̠͕̮͆̾s̸̡͉̣̺̯͚̾̈́͋̃̑͊͘s̵̼͛̃͛̄̏̊̊͜͠ͅs̷̨̯̬̯͊e̵̢̪̜̗͙̞͈̠͌̔͠s̸̢͔̝̳̞͈̭̲͂͆̇̄͛́́͗ͅͅ ̴̗̻̳̗̜̙̹̘͒̒̑̅̂̎̚͘w̴̰̘͂͊̌̒͘w̸̢̦̑̍̈́͊W̷̨̄̑̌̂̚͝W̵̦̙͇̝̲̪̝̫̜̰̄͑̚w̶̮͐̏̀͊͠h̴̬̤̠̩̰͋͗̾̓̈́̍̅ó̴͍̭͇̯͚̮͔̽̓̔̈́ ̶̥̑͋͒̿̀Ê̶̼͎͇͍̳̯͌͋͐̓̋v̸̢͓̩͗͜͝v̴͇͇̮̻͖̪͕̰̹̫̔̌̎̇̑́ë̷̪̤̫̪͌͂̓̕͘e̵̢̨̱̘̗͙̘̱̱̩̎̾̀v̸͍̄͠ë̶̡̙̠̣̰̠́͜r̸͇̰͖̍͑͌̆̌ ̷̯̼͕͍̭̭̲͙̰̽̈́͝y̷̪͉͓͗̿̀̐̈̃̆õ̷̢̜̮̬͒̈́͒̿̀̽̈́͂̈́ǘ̸̡̟̭̩̠̜̬͙̃ṵ̴̭̮̹̯̺̜̤̈͂̽u̸̬̠͉̺͍̰͉̦͌̋́̃͌̊͘͜ ̵̲͖̩̹̲̊̐͂͝͝a̵̰̩̻̗͕͎̮͈̥̫͂̂̌̆̆̎̑a̴̭͒͐̏̎́́͝à̶̛̘̮͍̟̻͕̰̽̍͛̽̈́̃͛͝r̴͎͚͇̻̞̬͑̂̅̿͋̅̂͊̔ą̴̛̱̱̗̔̈́̈́̔͒̆̌͘͠r̵̺̰̬̹̮̬̘̜̈́̊͗͛̅̌͌͘͜ę̸̛̺̞͚̹̘̱̥̲̒̍̏̔͛̌̚ȇ̴̩.̶̛̖̙̦̝̹̰͔̉͂̆̉̐̾̐͠͝ ̵̘̙͎̼̻̩̬͖͌̉̾̂̄͜J̵͐̏̇̈́̑̃͜͝͝j̶̛̠̬̟̓͗͗͆̆̀̈́̿̂͜j̴̢͍̦͉̯͑̍̓J̷̨̧̢̳̟̠̯͖͖͚̐̈̏̓̈͐̎̐͝j̶̫̞̬͖̯̯̹̺̩͆̾̽́̈́̄ͅJ̵͖̘̫̓u̷̡̧͔̥͇͕͔̞̠̇͛̈́̎͂̌͂͘̕ş̶͕̫̎ṫ̷͈͖̲̩͉͌̅̍̈́́̿ ̷̠͕͕̖̜̻̯̻̖̃̏̀͂͑́l̷̳̣̼̓̈́̊̈́̈̎̀́̋̚͜L̶̡̜̣͔͔̼̠̗̎̇̈́̕Ļ̴̞̟̱̹͓̹̪͖͚̂̐͐̑̂͆̐̓̚͠ḽ̶̢̧̙̺̯͖̰͓͐͗̽̈́̃̔̀̾̕l̴̢̢̳̜̣̦̎́́̔̕̚e̷͔̫͉̘͉̓̓͋͊̀̿̄̕͝ͅã̷̡̢̝̮͔̮̰̱͒͌̈͊̾͂͠ͅͅv̷̗̼͎̠̝̋̓͒͛̂͐͜͜è̶̪̟̲̘̃̓ ̴̺̊̉͑̉̽̅́̕̕m̸̧̦͔̙͍̘̭̲̄͂m̸̧̫͎͌̀̃͜ͅM̴͍͍̫͚̺͚̪̺̿́̒͋̂͐̿͗̚͘m̴̛̘̼͔͑̿̏̅͌̊̾̕e̴̩̟͈̙͑̏͐̆̓͆̏̚͠͝ ̵̳̤͉͉͙̬̥̉̓́̀̓̃̀̌̊͜ͅḁ̶̧̗͈͍͍̉͂̀͆͗̾̆́̚͜͝l̴̜͓͈̄͌̓̈́̉͊͊̍͝a̵̲͒̋̂͐́̊̕̚͝â̶̢͕̫̘̮͈̻͕͙̩͑̂ḹ̵̨̮̓̓̊̍̕̚͝o̵͖͔̥̳̊̐̀͠n̵̺̥̲͔͔̿͋̊ë̶̯̤̻́̌̎̎́̾͋̄̄̋.̵̪̑͆̀̎" (Please whoever you are. Just leave me alone.) She cautiously walks over to your bed and peaks over it. Your laying there curled up into a ball torn and broken items surrounding you. Y-your abstracting?! B-but... Zooble doesn't even really register the fact. She's in shock from seeing you like this. (I mean I would be too) You let out an ear piercing scream and claw at your own face with enough force to tear the skin, if you weren't digital at least. The glitching gets much much worse for a few seconds before just, stopping. No rhyme or reason that she can see. But you can bet your a&$ that after like 5 seconds pass and you stop showing signs of abstraction she's going to huddle near your spitting out so many questions. Mainly ones like "ARE YOU OK!?!" and "Your still with me right?! RIGHT!?!"

Kinger

Kinger would more likely then not be there when your first started glitching. And that might make him officially lose it. Your the second person in this hell (Queener) who he felt close too. And he outlived you too. Still you aren't abstracted yet. Maybe their's still a chance! So he sprints off screaming out for Caine in a voice that is loud enough to make you go deaf if you were too close to him. When he finds Caine. And he will find Caine he grabs him by the shoulders and sprints towards where he last saw you. He basically throws Caine at your glitching form and yells at him to fix you! In that second you stop glitching Caine did nothing and Kinger will basically tackle you. He'll pick you up and hold you over his head like a spear and sprint towards your rooms. Once there he will set up the comfiest coziest pillow fort possible then get you all comfy inside. Once he's sure your at least mostly safe and he's at least mostly calmed down he'll ask you about what happened. (Despite him being pretty crazy I really do feel like out of everyone he would be the best at communication in a friend or relationship. I mean he's that crazy and yet he still has manners and knowledge about a lot. Tbh he might become my fav. Idk it's possible.)

Ragatha

You were helping out Ragatha with a surprise she was making for everyone to lighten their moods when you said that you feel kind of sick so you were going to call it a night. She nods thanks you for the help you gave then gives you a quick peck to the lips as a send off. Not to much to her surprise you choose to lay in her bed instead of yours. Just something you do when you don't wanna be alone. She shrugs it off and keeps working actually quite grateful that you decided to not leave, not fully at least. She keeps working but stops when she hears some very concerning noises coming from your sleeping body. She turns around to see you tossing and turning an abnormal amount in your sleep, as well as making a lot of noises that sound like when someone is choking on their own blood. Concerned she carefully walks over to check on you only to recoil when she notices the glitching. She trips over her own foot and falls over onto her back. She quickly but clumsily gets up and gets back to you. She shakes you a bit trying to wake you up, but you don't only concerning her more. She yells calls out for Pomni who pokes her head through Ragatha's door a second later. Ragatha nearly screams at her to go get Caine. Pomni startled by Ragatha's tone turns heel and runs off to look for Caine while Ragatha stays with you. She keeps whispering things like "You're gonna be ok" and "Pomni's getting Caine just hang in there". Always keeping a hand on you not caring when it starts glitching out too. When Pomni returns with Caine, Ragatha full on yells at him to help you. He looks at you, then back at her, then with a apologetic tone says their isn't anything he can do as abstraction is one of those things he doesn't have control over. Ragatha breaks into tears. So she's gonna lose you, she was even there. BUT SHE CAN'T F@%#&$* HELP?! She holds onto you like you're her last tether to reality. And you seem to get better. Your at the very least don't seem to be in pain anymore! So she squeezes you, really f&$%@#* hard happier then should be possible that your improving.

Jax

Jax found you in his room voice glitching you huddled over in pain. At first he thought it was a revenge prank and acted accordingly. "Haha, very funny Y/N. Now get out of my room I need to do something." That is until you vomited up a ton of pitch black goo. Then he started taking it more seriously. He quickly crouches down and wraps an arm around you to try and provide some support. He freaks out and quickly pulls his arm back when you vomit up more goo and starts visibly glitching. He panics and quickly looks around his room locking onto a like 3 day old unopened water bottle. He opens it and hands it to you as well as a thing to squeeze that half yells to just hang in there he'll be right back. He sprints around not even knowing who to get. He sees Ragatha and half tackles her. He shouts directly into her face that you need help and that you in his room. He tosses her in the direction of his room then continues sprinting around not long after finding Caine. He grabs Caine ignoring his protests and runs back to his room where he fins Ragatha sitting next to his bed you tucked in. Your not vomiting anything and you aren't glitching. You're just shivering. He hears you mumble his name and literally kicks Ragatha and Caine out quickly getting to your side. After he feels he wont get hurt he quickly gets into bed holding you close "If you ever do that again I'm going to take back my vow to not tease you." He falls asleep with his chin resting on your head.

Pomni

At first when you started glitching Pomni didn't really know it was abstraction. She's never seen someone abstract after all, only seeing the finished product. But when you keep getting worse and worse she realizes that something is wrong. So she leaves you with a quick kiss then runs off to the communication thing Caine made after the whole Kaufmo incident. She calls him and when he picks up she screams into the phone that your glitching out. When Caine appears next to her she runs back over to where you are not even checking if Caine is following. When she gets back to you, you're still in really bad shape. She turns back to Caine and yells at him to help you. When he tells her that he can't she starts hyperventilating, then she sees him pick you up and the cellar hole open?! OH F&#$ NO! She basically punches Caine then clings to you protectively, ready to throw hands with Caine if she has to. Caine tries and pull her off when she starts glitching but she has the grip of a professional rock climber. So Caine has to keep curing her glitches at they appear. Cause in his mind your beyond help but she isn't. Then you start to improve. No more coughing and the glitching has slowed down! Pomni glares at Caine then turns back to you with a scared and tired smile on her face. Once your ok enough to talk you are going to get an earful. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU WERE FEELING BAG ENOUGH TO ABSTRACT?!?!?! (Sorry this was so long. I got a little carried away. And surprisingly I'm pretty proud of this one. I hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

[heartateasee]

“Clairvoyant”

harry x you (don’t really know how to label him in this one…)

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: cheating (with y/n), angst, some rough unprotected sex (spanking, spitting, anal play - f receiving), squirting and slight degradation

Plot: You and Harry had been sneaking around with each other for over a year as he was unhappy in his arranged relationship with his fiancée, but that all comes crumbling down one day when he shows up at your door unexpectedly.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

This wasn’t what you had expected when you had planned a night in for yourself. You didn’t expect to answer the door and see Harry with a duffel bag in his hand when he hadn’t even announced he’d be coming over.  You didn’t expect to be sitting on the edge of your bed, staring down at your feet with tear-filled eyes as he walked around your room - gathering things he had left here for the last year or so. The only thing he told you when he walked in was that he was here to get his things, and nothing more had been spoken between the two of you in the five minutes he had been here.

“Are you just not going to tell me what’s going on?” You asked as you sucked in a deep breath, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek.

Harry stopped moving for a second, and you could see the inkling of him turning his head to look at you over his shoulder, but he stopped himself -  continuing to pack his bag. “She found out, and she threatened to go to my father with it all.”

Your heart sank when you realized this was the worst case scenario. You felt your bottom lip wobbling as you picked at your nails, looking away from him again.

“So...this is it?” 

You hoped it wasn’t, but deep down you knew. You were never going to see him again.

“It has to be,” Harry’s voice was rough, and unlike you’d ever heard from him before.

In the past year and a half that you had known each other, you had only see him angry once, and that was because the restaurant you had ordered delivery from for dinner fucked up your order. Not his - yours. He always wanted to make sure that you were happy and satisfied, and knowing that your meal wasn’t right had him riled up. You had managed to talk him down with a few kisses, and some soft caresses, and that night ended with the two of you cuddled up next to the fireplace.

You pursed your lips to the side as you tried to keep yourself from getting overly emotional, but it was all coming down on you at once. “How did she find out?”

“She went through my phone while I was asleep. She found our folder…”

Flinching away, you immediately knew the folder he was referring to. It was a hidden one that he had in his photos, but with the proper password, it was accessible to anyone that may have his phone in their possession. It was photos of the two of you, most of the time engaging in some act of sex, and now you regretted ever agreeing to let him have that. The only reason why you had was because you knew he grew lonely while his fiancée was at work, or when she was out with friends, and you wanted to be able to provide him with some satisfaction when you couldn’t be together.

“She didn’t do anything with those photos, did she?”

“No, she assured me she didn’t, and I believe her,” Harry zipped up his bag, and for the first time he actually turned to look at you. “That’s not her angle as of right now. If I weren’t to end this, then that would change.”

Your bottom lip trembled as it fully hit you that not only was he leaving, but someone had seen the two of you when you were most vulnerable. You were careful when it came to showing that part of yourself to others. Harry had only been the fifth person in your life to see you naked like that. 

“So she…she saw me like…” You trailed off, not being able to even finish your sentence as you shut your eyes tight.

You jumped as you then felt the tips of Harry’s fingers dancing down the sides of your arms after a few seconds. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

For the first time since showing up, his voice held that tenderness that you knew and loved so much. 

Except right now, it didn’t do a single thing to calm you. Instead, it was pissing you off considering he had the nerve to come here, barely speak to you and just trudge his way into your bedroom to start packing his bag as if the two of you didn’t have something deeper than just sleeping together going on.

You loved each other. You both knew it - even though it hadn’t been spoken.

Speaking it out loud would make it a true reality for the two of you, and deep down, you always knew this was how it was going to end. It wasn’t going to be a mutual goodbye, or a cordial separation. It was going to have to blow up in order for the two of you to stop seeing each other because neither one of you wanted to let go.

“No,” you raised your hands, pushing against his chest slightly to have his touch retreating from you. “You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

Your voice wavered as you avoided eye contact with him, sniffing loudly as you tried to come off as strong - wanting to will away these frustrating tears.

“Y/N, please,” Harry’s voice was now pleading with you, but you shook your head.

“No, Harry,” you shoved at his chest again. “You walked in here as if I was just some one night stand, and your girlfriend found out, but you forgot something important of yours so you had to come back in here. You walked in here, and you didn’t give me any type of explanation until I asked. You didn’t offer me a single shred of consoling. It's like you didn’t expect for this to make me feel this way.”

You never got angry with Harry. You just didn’t. You never raised your voice, or showed any irritation. You had never felt that way towards him.

Until now.

“So, yeah, go ahead and leave,” you walked past him and out of your bedroom as you started back towards your front door. “Since it’s just so easy for you to do, then guess what? It’s going to be so easy for me to watch you go.”

Just as your hand went to reach for the door knob, you felt an arm around your waist - pulling you back against a broad chest.

“Y/N, please don’t be like this,” Harry said into your ear, and you could tell by the tone that he was starting to crack. “Don’t have us end it angry.”

“That’s not fair!” You all but wailed as your tears started to fall harder. “You were going to try and make this as emotionless as possible. You were just going to leave me to take care of it by myself once you were gone.”

“Because it’s easier!” Harry’s voice boomed as he pulled away from you just to turn you around, and you looked up to see tears of his own pooling in his eyes. “I can’t…I can’t have you beg for me. If you do that, then I’d never be able to really say goodbye.”

You swallowed harshly at the word.

‘Goodbye’.

“That’s it then?” You asked, shaking your head. “I…I don’t even get to have you one last time?”

Harry’s eyes lifted from where he was looking down at his feet for a moment, and you watched as his eyes danced over you - contemplating your question.

He knew he shouldn’t. That it would just make things harder to walk away if he allowed himself to indulge in you one last time, but it was hard to resist.

Sex had never felt so good for the two of you until each other. Without even speaking, you were both able to determine what the pace of the night would be. Whether it be rough, the way you both liked it most of the time, or whether it was slow or passionate - you both just knew what was needed silently.

“We shouldn’t,” Harry looked away from you again, and he walked past you - going back into your bedroom.

You followed closely behind him, and you watched as he bent down to grab the bag he brought with him off the floor. It was packed, and ready to go. 

The last pieces of him that you had confined inside a piece of luggage.

“This isn’t fair,” you choked out, deciding to be selfish. “You can’t…you can’t just leave me.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Harry sighed as he pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

“I don’t understand how this is so easy for you,” you sat down on the edge of your bed, tugging at your hair in frustration. “How are you okay with just walking out that door and never seeing me again? Harry, I-I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

When this whole thing first started, you both had agreed that it was just sex - no feelings. Neither of you could determine exactly when that changed, but it hadn’t been just sex for a long time now. 

You weren’t sure if it was when he started leaving stuff here that the switch happened, or maybe it was when you were sick and he showed up at your door with medicine and hot soup to make you feel better. Regardless of not being able to narrow it down, the switch had happened, and you both allowed yourselves to grow too attached.

“You think this is easy?” Harry hissed, and you dropped your hands to claw at the comforter underneath you. “You think this is fucking easy?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry continued.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, don’t you understand?” Harry’s eyes showed remorse and honesty as they drilled into yours. “Leaving you here, and knowing that this is it…I’m fucking ruined. No one has ever meant as much to me as you do.”

Harry had never confessed such deep emotions towards you before, but that was because neither of you needed it. 

Again, you both just knew. You always knew.

“And no one has ever meant as much to me as you!” You practically screamed back as more tears of anger and fear stained your face. “I should’ve never fucking done this. It should’ve just been the one night like we said. You should’ve never asked for my number. We should’ve just left it alone.

"I knew it would end with only one of us being completely devastated because you were always going to have someone to turn to once it was over. But not me…I don’t know how I’ll move on.”

You dropped your face into your hands as a sob wrecked through your chest. The only man that you could really say that you deeply, and truly loved was leaving you.

You were convinced you’d never find another. Harry was the love of your life. No one else could ever compare.

“You don’t mean that,” Harry said as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck - thumb caressing your skin. “I don’t regret a single thing with you.”

Deep down, you didn’t either, but it was easier to try and convince yourself that you did in order to try to find the first step in moving on.

“Stop it,” you snapped while lifting your head up, and you watched as his eyes widened. You never had spoken to him like this before. “Just get out, Harry. Not that I would be able to anyway, but I never want to see you again.”

The pained look on Harry’s face was one that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Y/N, please don’t make us leave it like this,” Harry’s hand tightened its hold on you.

“I’m sorry, but how are we supposed to leave it? Am I supposed to just shake your hand, and thank you for the last year and some odd months of sex? For leading me to believe that I could ever be something besides the other woman? You told me you were going to figure it out. You told me you were going to leave her.”

“Yeah, well I thought I had more time,” Harry’s voice was raising again as he dropped his hand. “But I don’t, and if I don’t do this, then I have nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.”

“You’d have me!” 

The quiet hung over the two of you as you stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest when that didn’t earn a response.

“Right,” you laughed sadly, lifting a hand to push away your tears. “I’m not enough. I’ll never fucking be enough for you.”

You kept your eyes down as you waited to hear his footsteps, but all you heard was the sound of his bag thumping against the ground. His large hands were then on your face - tilting your head up to look at him.

“You are more than enough for me,” Harry said, holding your eyes so you knew he was telling the truth. “You’re too good for me, and that’s why I have to let you go. You deserve someone better. Someone that can offer you everything that you want - everything that I can’t.”

“I don’t want anyone else, don’t you understand?” You clawed at his sides, clinging to him harder than you ever had. “I want you. Just you, Harry.”

It was then you felt his mouth against yours, and you didn’t even need to feel it for more than a second before you were fully giving in. You immediately separated your lips, tongues rolling over each other’s as he slotted himself between your legs. He tipped your head back even further, eliciting a moan from you as you felt him beginning to suck on your tongue.

Your hands ran down to his jeans that he had on, grateful of the fact he hadn’t worn a belt so you could easily pop the button before pulling down the zipper. 

Slipping your hand inside his briefs, Harry gasped into your mouth as you took him into your palm - your thumb brushing over his soft tip. He was always so heavy in your hand, and you loved it. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered as he pulled his lips away from yours, resting his forehead against your temple.

“I need you to properly say goodbye to me,” you panted as your hand worked his shaft.

Your command rang in Harry’s ears for just a moment before he nodded, reaching down to pull the hem of your jumper up - the article of clothing abandoning your body. You didn’t have anything on underneath, and he lowered you so that you were laying fully on your bed. He eventually maneuvered the two of you to have you both laying in the middle of your mattress as his hands reached up to knead at your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I need to memorize you. Every bit of you.”

Soon you also removed his shirt from his torso, and he kicked his jeans and briefs the rest of the way off his body to have him fully naked.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he breathed as he pulled off your leggings and your underwear. “But I can’t be too long.”

You shook your head softly. “I really don’t care. I just need to feel you one last time.”

Harry ran his hand down the expanse of your abdomen before both hands cupped your hips, and he flipped you over onto your stomach. The sudden movement pulled a gasp from you, and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you knew where this was going.

He was going to be rough with you, and you secretly hoped he would choose this as the last way to have you other than making it slow.

“Condom?” Harry questioned as he ran his length between your folds.

“Have you gone without using one with her?” You looked at him over your shoulder.

After the first few times of being with each other, the two of you decided to forgo condoms. You had an IUD, and he always used condoms when sleeping with her, so you knew the two of you would be safe.

Harry shook his head. “No, and either way, I haven’t slept with her in a couple months.”

“Harry,” you sighed, dropping your forehead against the bed. “No wonder she went through your phone.”

“I know,” he cleared his throat. “I promise that I tried, but the last time I did…I couldn’t get hard.”

“Jesus,” you knew that was the nail in the coffin.

Harry had always talked about how sex with her was okay, but that it didn’t compare to what he had with you. He had agreed to still sleep with her every couple of weeks to avoid suspicion, so now you understood exactly why she had gone digging for answers.

“It’s fucked up.”

“It is,” you agreed, but there was a part of you that felt your stomach swirling at his confession. “Can only get hard for your whore, hm?”

Harry’s palm cracked down against one of the globes of your ass - causing your body to jolt forward as you huffed out a laugh. 

“Watch it,” he sneered, and you felt yourself clench down around nothing. 

“What? Isn’t that all I am? Just a hole to stuff your big-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt Harry’s cock enter you with one hard thrust, and your fingers gripped to your bedding as he stretched you beyond comprehension.

“Shut-up,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, and he brought his hand up to redden your other ass cheek - making them even.

After a moment, he started up a vigorous pace as he pulled your cheeks apart to properly see where he disappeared inside of you. His eyes lingered on your tightest hole, and you squirmed as you felt him spit down against it.

“You say you’re my whore?” The pad of Harry’s thumb began to smear the wetness over the band of muscles, and you choked on a moan as he dipped the tip inside. “Then you’ll take it like one.”

His digit then entered you fully, and he began to pulse it in and out of you at the same rhythm that his prick consumed you at.

You could feel your arousal making a complete mess of him while dripping down your thighs, and the noises that were produced from his cock penetrating your cunt had both of you completely, and utterly turned on.

“Sweet little pussy splitting itself open just for me,” Harry rambled aimlessly as he kept up his movements. “You said it yourself, it had never been properly taken care of until me. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, jaw slack as you let Harry use your body for both of your pleasures.

Smirking softly, he knew you were blissed out from what he was giving you, and he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he moved one leg to have his foot against the mattress - snapping his hips against your ass that much harder.

“Oh, fuck me,” you mewled, earning yourself another slap to one of the rounds of your ass. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah? Been hardly giving it to you, and you’re already going to cream over my cock?”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you could feel your orgasm not only coating him, but also spraying against the inside of your legs.

“That’s it, baby,” Harry praised you. “Good girl spraying all over me - getting us all wet. Filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your toes curled as his thick cock rode you through the aftershocks of your climax, and you threw your hands behind you to grip to the back of his thighs - causing your torso to hover over the bed.

“Oh, that’s how you want it?” Harry clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You want it harder?”

“Yes,” you begged, arching your back to feel him even deeper. “Ruin me.”

With Harry’s thumb still satiating your tightest hole, his other hand gripped to the top of your shoulder so he could use that leverage to force you back against his powerful thrusts. Small ‘uh’s of pleasure left you with every clash of skin, and you just knew he was going to have your squirting again.

“Not going to be able to go for much longer, Y/N,” Harry forced out, feeling his own orgasm brewing at the base of his spine. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Give it to me,” you pleaded, nails digging into his skin. “I need you to come in me, and make sure you push it up in there. Let me keep it. Let me keep you.”

Harry felt his abs clenching at those words, and it was as if they triggered that build up he had been fighting against to try and last as long as possible to completely crumble. His come began to pour into you, and he kept up his heavy thrusts to fuck it as far up into you as he could - just like you asked.

The feeling of his orgasm coating your walls had you coming once again, and you felt yourself spraying even more as Harry removed his thumb from your ass.

“Fuck yes,” he gasped, your squirt coating his abdomen. “So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Harry worked the two of you through your highs as much as he could before he was collapsing against your back - the two of you buckling down against the mattress. He stayed inside of you, not wanting to leave the warmth that was your delicious cunt just yet.

Once he gave himself a moment to catch his breath, he sat up to carefully flip you over - all while still sheathed inside.

“Harry,” the way you said his name had his eyes snapping up to meet yours, and that’s when he saw the tears of both pleasure and sorrow filling your own. “Please don’t leave me.”

The knot that began to form in Harry’s throat grew fast, and eventually he too had tears coating his cheeks. “I don’t want to. I want to stay here with you - where I feel safe.”

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, and you pulled him tight against you.

“I would always keep you safe,” you whispered as you ran your hands through his sweaty curls. “My sweet boy. I want nothing more than to have you forever.”

Harry whimpered as he shoved his face into the side of your neck. “I-I love you, Y/N,” he sobbed as he gripped to your ribcage. “I love you.”

Your chest jumped as a sob of your own bounced off the walls surrounding you. “I love you too, Harry. I love you so much.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Three months. It had been three months since you last saw, or even heard, from Harry.

After giving yourselves over to each other one last time, and confessing your love for one another, he collected his bag…and he left.

And today - today had to be the hardest day of them all.

You knew it was his wedding day, no matter how hard you tried to push it from your mind. It was all you could think about as you sat on your couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the TV, or to put on some music.

You just stared at the wall as you allowed your mind to be completely consumed by him.

It was self-inflicted torture as this point, but you couldn’t force yourself to think of anything else.

You had hoped that the absence of him would cause your thoughts of him to dwindle, as well as the hold he had on your heart, however, that wasn’t the case. You missed him more than you ever thought you could.

Your friends didn’t see you anymore, and you were barely making it by at work. You were a shell of your former self.

For the longest time you had wished that he had forgotten something of his behind, but now you’re glad that he hadn’t. You didn’t know how you would’ve reacted if you had found a stray shirt, or a misplaced sock. You’re sure that it would’ve been the cause of a whole new spiral.

The only piece you had left that reminded you that what you had was real, was the postcard from Hawaii that you had tacked to the cork board by the desk in your room. He had gone on a business trip with her and her father, as well as his father, and he was gone for almost a month.

You were shocked when you received it in the mail two weeks after he had left, and the message he scribbled onto the card made you smile.

‘Currently staying on one of the most beautiful islands in the world, but all I can think about is you. I wish you were here with me. I can’t wait to come home and be with you again.

xo - H’

You knew he hated that stupid arranged relationship with her, but you couldn’t believe he had sent that postcard because the two of you had only been secretly seeing each other for a little less than six months. What you thought was just going to be a one night stand after pulling the hottest guy at the bar turned into quick hookups, and weekends together when she was out of town.

There was a strong part of you that knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to let go. 

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

As you blinked your eyes open, you weren’t sure what time it was when you had managed to cry yourself to sleep on your couch. Your eyes fluttered shut again with a hum, and that’s when you registered your head was against a hard surface while fingers were threading through your hair.

You sat up quickly, and your lips parted when you saw Harry sitting next to you on the couch - fully decked out in a suit.

“Harry,” you croaked. Your throat was raw from all the crying you had done.

“Hi, baby,” Harry sent you a soft smile with tears in his eyes as he cupped the side of your neck - thumb grazing your jawline. 

Your eyes darted down to his left hand that still sat in his lap, and you braced yourself at the fact that you were going to see a gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

But it wasn’t there.

Gasping, you looked back to his face, and you watched as his eyebrows furrowed together. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What do you mean?” All logic escaped you, still completely overwhelmed at the fact that he was here in front of you again. 

“The wedding. The marriage. The whole fucking relationship,” Harry shook his head. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I…I left her at the altar, and I came straight here. Let myself in using your spare key when you didn’t answer. I got scared.”

Your heart was now pounding in your chest as you registered what he was telling you.

He wasn’t married. And he wasn’t hers anymore.

“Harry,” you repeated, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands - thumbing at his cheeks as if you were making sure he was actually here. “You came back.”

“I should’ve never left, Y/N,” Harry licked over his bottom lip. “I was an idiot, and I would understand if you never forgave me, but I had to come and see you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You pushed yourself onto your knees as you closed the space between the two of you, and you lowered your thumb down to press the pad of it against his bottom lip.

“I want to be upset,” you confessed. “And I know I should feel more angry than I am, but I’m not. I’m just so happy you’re here. I haven’t stopped thinking about you once, and it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

You both chuckled sadly as Harry’s hands came up to rest on your hips. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to scream at me. I’d let you yell at me every day, and tell me how much of an asshole I am if it would make you feel better.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, it doesn’t matter now. You’re here. We’re together.”

“Together,” Harry confirmed with a nod.

“I love you,” you whispered as you dropped your forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

And then finally, the feeling that you had yearned for for weeks now was once again yours. Heart shaped lips pressed against your own, and you allowed the sensation to take you over completely.

Harry was here. And he was yours.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”

Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.

You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.

Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.

You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.

Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.

“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.

The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.

“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”

You sigh. “It’s not like that.”

That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.

Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.

“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.

“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.

“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.

“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“

“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.

You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.

So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.

You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.

She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.

How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?

You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.

You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.

You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.

She clearly heard more than she was meant to.

You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.

When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.

When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.

You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.

It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.

When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.

That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.

She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.

It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.

Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.

“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.

You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.

Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.

You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.

Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.

Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.

It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.

You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.

Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.

She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.

After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.

Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.

Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.

Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?

You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.

“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.

It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.

You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.

Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.

Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”

“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.

“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.

You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.

You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.

All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.

It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.

You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.

Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?

“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”

She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.

“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.

You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.

Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.

After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.

As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.

You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.

You did pack one thing

Marshmallows.

You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.

You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.

You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.

“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.

“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.

You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.

“Why did you screw over Janis?”

Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”

“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.

You decide not to push it any further.

“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.

“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”

She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.

“Being with you has felt free.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.

You fit together like a puzzle.

You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.

“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”

Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.

“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”

She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.

“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.

She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.

A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.

You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.

As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same

You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.

You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.

The star lion in the sky beams down at you.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

A Study of Silence

Summary: Your life of married bliss is failing. A moment of heated arguing finally reveals the reason Natasha is pulling away from you, so you offer her the choice: stay or leave?

Word Count: 862

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: Angst

A/N: I wrote this at 1am when my flatmates set the fire alarm off, so forgive any mistakes lol. It's loosely based on 'Fluorescent Adolescent' by the Arctic Monkeys.

»»————-　★　————-««

Silence. Then the occasional turning of a page. In your mind, there are three types of silences: a comfortable silence, a suspenseful silence, and an awkward silence.

This fell firmly into the third category, but you made no move to change it - wondering instead how and when such an activity – sitting silently in your wife's presence – had turned from comfortable to awkward.

It hadn't happened just in this session: that was doomed to awkwardness from its start - but a month ago? a year ago? It was hard to recall a single moment of comfortable bliss outside of the early days of your relationship.

Everything had seemed so bright: an Avenger falling for a simple mechanic, a match made only in your dreams… though sometimes you wondered if it should ever have gone beyond that. She'd promised to quit her job for you, retire herself to deskwork upon marriage. "I want to do it," she had promised, "my love for you overshadows any job I do, and if this means I'm not spending months away from you and you're not spending months worrying, then it's an easy decision."

You swore your life to her then, showed her your love and your devotion. That love never faded. But where did it go wrong?

"My love?" you said. The redhead didn't look up from her book; you tried to see what it was, but she maintained her senses enough to shield that from your sights. With a sigh, you continued into the silence, "I was thinking maybe we could cook together tonight?"

She looked up now, fingers sightlessly marking the page. "Again? Didn't we do that..." she trailed off, searching for a memory, a recent excuse.

You finish her sentence for her: "last month? Yeah. I thought we could maybe do some bonding this month too, but nevermind."

"Y/N, we can-"

"You're clearly not interested, Nat, I'm not going to force you, so go hang out with your old Avengers buddies again and I'll make dinner alone."

There was a bite to your words that you knew you'd later regret, but in the moment you couldn't bring yourself to care. Fighting had become the only sure fire way to end the stagnant silences, and these days, neither you nor Natasha were afraid to use the method.

"You always do this," Natasha seethed, "they're my friends. I used to spend my every moment with them, living together, working together, everything! And I gave that up for you! You want me to give up even seeing them too? Would that finally be enough?!"

The silence fell again. A fourth type: one of contemplating, one of heated feelings and unwitting confessions and, finally, understanding. You understood. In her anger, Natasha had revealed the secret to it all, where it had all gone wrong.

You softened your voice, speaking quietly as if your wife were an injured animal, easy to startle. "I didn't make you give that up. I don't want you to give up more and I don't want you to blame me for your choices."

She stayed silent, though her jaw tightened and her eyes focused on a point behind you. You didn't have to turn to remember which picture lies there.

"I love you, Natasha," you confessed again, knowing it could be a last confession. "I love you and I want only the best for you. And if you miss the superhero days, the risk, the team, everything... if leaving that and marrying me is the mistake that's making you miserable, then I'm giving you the chance to undo that mistake. I don't want to be the reason you live your life in nostalgia and regret."

You didn't wait for her to respond, what was the point? Her gaze was still fixed on the picture behind you: the team in its heyday, when they were still young and wild and disorganised. She clang to until she got sentimental, forgetting that you had been the one to take the photo, right before Natasha became the first of the group to settle down.

Her response would come soon enough, you knew, so you went to your room and waited. You hoped for the eventual knock on the door, the long awaited conversation, then either the forgiveness or the conclusion. You hoped all through the evening, even as you cooked by yourself, ate by yourself, and slept by yourself.

A night with the Avengers might have been what she needed to make her decision.

Natasha Romanoff came into your life with a burning passion and a humanity to her that few people could ever achieve. You expected it to last forever, but come morning you realised the truth: Natasha Romanoff was a spy born and raised, and no amount of humanity can ever erase that from her.

Her ring was on your bedside table in the morning, the house left in a state of suspended silence. Natasha herself was nowhere to be found, disappearing like a spy, with no words spoken on the matter.

She had made her choice, just as you had made yours.

You loved Natasha too much to keep her; she loved you too little to stay.

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin

[moralesluvr]

what do you think miguel’s reaction would be if you told him that he scares you?

oh boy.

you're safe with me ft. miguel o'hara

♡ pairings & aus: miguel o'hara x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: after getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, you tell him that he's scaring you, which crumbles his heart ♡ warnings: miguel being OD per usual bc why are you yelling rn? angst with a happy ending ♡ a/n: first miggy fic woop woop ur the best for requesting this! love ya ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

YOU WEREN'T CRYING UNTIL HE SAID IT.

You weren't crying until Miguel starting lashing out at you, angrily balling up wads of important papers and hurling them at the wall, whether you happened to be a barrier between it and the papers, it wasn't really his concern right now. All he cared about was getting this new burst of anger out, and of course, it had to be something to do with you.

Miguel loved you, you knew this. He's said it, he's shown it to you, and he has no problem admitting it to other people. But sometimes you felt as if a person really loved you, why on earth would they be acting like this?

He stood behind his work station, fists angrily swelling as they curled themselves up into a ball. You could hear him breathing, but he refused to speak to you, because he knew that he would say things that he'd immediately regret if he did.

You, on the other hand, were standing up against the wall, now useless papers littered at your feet. Sniffled sobs ricocheted off of the brickwork behind you, your tears behind caressed by the wood floors that you stood on. You started for the door before stopping in your tracks, "Miguel. Look at me."

At first, he doesn't. But when he doesn't hear your footsteps fading to walk out, he slowly pivots on his heel, walking over to you heavily. You look up at his deep brown eyes, murmuring softly, "You....Y-You scared me. And I'm not...I'm not talking about past tense, either. You scare me, Miguel. I am scared of you."

You watched as the man before you crumbled at the mention of you being scared at him. Never in your life have you seen him look so sad, so downhearted, like he had been defeated by his own actions. His eyes are glossy as he reaches for you, and you subtly flinch, but he picks up on it.

"I..." He starts, biting the inside of his cheek at a loss for words. His big, calloused hand comes up to hold your cheek, which you sink into his palm when he caresses you. "I'm sorry, cariño, I-I didn't mean to...scare you." He whispers the last part of the sentence like it's a plague, as if he was disgusted by the contents of your conversation. You sniffle and look up at him through wet eyelashes, "'S okay."

"No, no, it's not." Miguel protests, shaking his head at your sweet response. He then brings both hands up to your face as he holds you dearly, so tender, as if he's scared to cause any harm to you.

He continues to talk, "Ay coño, mi preciosa. I hope you're not afraid of me-- I don't want you to be. You shouldn't have to be. You deserve better than that."

"Then be better, Miguel." You stated, your jaw hardening. He picks up on that and he rubs his thumb along your jawline and cheeks, murmuring sweet nothings and apologies to you. He nods,

"I will, I promise, I will."

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ♧: @lipstickstainedshells // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @lordbugs

[va1entinesg4l]

full of surprises pt.2

☆ pt. 1

pairing: charles leclerc x reader x max verstappen

summary: now that the world knows who the fathers are, what would the public think?

warnings: none except poor translations of french!

“Max! Charles! Is it true that you both are the fathers of y/n’s child?”

“Are you three a throuple?”

“Is Lestappen real then?”

Questions were being asked every single day and both Max and Charles were desperate to answer them. But despite their management being strict with their reputation, they were forced to stay silent.

“Max will be the father of y/n’s child. In public, of course.” that’s what both managers of the boys agreed on. They decided to clear things up with Max being your partner and the father of your child. So in every or any public events which the drivers will be attending, the arm around your waist, is Max’s.

Charles’s heart sank when they told him that. How could he just watch both the love of his life act all happy and in love from afar. He wasn’t just hurt, but betrayed.

The child is Charles’s as much as it’s Max’s. Why should he be kept away from them?

“This isn’t going to work. I’m not doing this.” Charles says sternly, giving you and Max a serious look as he paces around the hotel bedroom. Max crosses his arms with a heavy heart as he watches Charles, he knew what Charles was feeling but who was he to deny that this whole media bullshit was wrong?

You take Charles’s hand as you reassure him, “We just have to deal with this for a few months, mon amour..” Charles shoots you a glare at that and argues, “A few months? I can’t even deal with this for a minute.”

He yanks his hand away from yours as he mutters a ‘fuck’. Then a knock came on the door, Charles’s manager speaking.

“Car is ready, be down in five.”

There was a charity event held by Ferrari and every driver was going. With you being ‘just’ Max’s partner for the cameras, you knew shit might happen tonight.

Max takes your hand as he gives Charles one last glance before heading to the car downstairs with you, Charles following 5 minutes behind as he gets into another car.

You and Max, and Charles both arrive at a different time to avoid any attractions but once you get out of the car, cameras start flashing and questions about your relationship with the boys were once thrown again.

The security leads you both inside the building away from the cameras. The event crowded with people, the Williams drivers chatting along with the Mercedes drivers. Ferrari’s team principal, Fred, talking with Toto.

Max keeps his arm around you as you both try to look for Charles and there he was, alone as he smiles at the people who were greeting him. The smile which was fake and only filled with sadness.

Your heart ached just by watching him being alone, Max couldn’t look at him, it felt like it was his fault, it should’ve been him in Charles’s position.

Charles finally spots you and Max and he looks away, forcing a smile as he engages in conversation with the others to distract himself.

Charles sat at a different table, his expression blank as he holds a new glass of champagne after each empty ones. Speeches went on for hours and Charles just wanted to leave, he couldn’t help but steal glances at you and Max, seeing how close you both are, every touch he gives you, every kiss. In his mind, it felt real. it felt like he wasn’t always the one you and Max loved most.

It was finally Charles’s turn to give a speech after Carlos’s and from the way some of the buttons of his dress shirt was undone, he was drunk.

“Hi.. everyone.” Charles slurs slightly, clearing his throat before continuing. You stare at him from your seat and you felt as if Charles might say something he might just regret.

“I wanted to thank everyone who joined this event tonight. As you all know, Ferrari has been my dream since i was a child and i would’ve never made it this far if it weren’t for my father and Jules.” He stops his sentence, his breath ragged which could be heard through the speakers.

His eyes then land on you and Max, his jaw clenched slightly before speaking again.

“But tonight I wanted to tell everyone something. Three years ago I would’ve given up this career if i hadn’t met y/n, she made something inside of me spark again and it was like a gift from god.”

“Since then i’ve fallen in love with her, but also with someone i’ve never thought of loving.” He shifts his gaze to Max and he swore he saw Max’s eyes soften.

“Max is a wonderful person. Anyone who’s ever seen him as a bad guy for being a winner on track will never understand. J’aime y/n et Max. I love y/n and Max. So yes, the three of us are in love and happy together. The child y/n is carrying is mine as much as it’s Max’s. Which yes, both Max and i are the fathers of y/n’s child.”

A few gasps and murmurs came from the crowd but you could see the other drivers of the grid putting proud smiles on their faces, your heart bursting with happiness at Charles’s confession. Charles gives a drunken smile at the crowd before slurring his words again.

“Et si quelqu'un a un problème avec ça, vous pouvez gentiment vous faire foutre.” And if anyone has a problem with that, you can kindly fuck off.

He stumbles off the stage and Carlos immediately helps him. You run over to him as Max helps him up as well, taking him to the restroom to freshen up.

He was slowly sobering up after Max had forced him to drink four glasses of water and he sits down on the floor, his back slumping against the wall as he chuckles to himself, saying.

“I couldn’t give two fucks about what the media would say but at least now they know the truth.” You and Max look at him but before you both could even say a word, he plays with the ring that was recently worn on his finger.

“Alors maintenant, pouvons-nous en finir avec ça et planifier notre mariage?” So now can we get this over with and plan our wedding?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

im sorry it took WEEKS for me to finish this but my exams are over, thank god. 😭 this really wasn’t the ending i wanted to write since i was suppose to write a part 3 but i couldn’t keep you guys waiting anymore so i wrote the ending and everything in this part. i love you guys for reading & thanks for being patient!!

[azrielwingspan]

SHATTERED (AZRIEL X READER)

Summary : You finally scraped up enough courage to tell Azriel how you felt. Unfortunately, not everything is meant to be.

Warnings : ANGSTTTTT, ANGSTTT.

Joy rushed through you as you took a moment to pause and look around. Your closest friends and family were gathered in your house taking a break from all the chaos plaguing your world.

Laughter poured out uninhibited, memories were shared and a cocoon of comfort and love was created. This was all you had ever wanted. This was everything you fought for. This was everything you had sacrificed the innocent part of yourself for.

Sighing in contentment, you let a memory from a couple of years back wash over you.

"I-I don't want you to go." you sobbed holding onto Azriel's hand. "P-Please Az. What if you---" you couldn't finish the sentence, just the thought of it sending more tears running down your sweaty and blood stained face.

"Y/N, I have to help them. I can't stand by and watch the others get slaughtered. I can't live with that regret Y/N, it's a slow death. At least this way, death might find me faster." Azriel pulled you to him, holding the back of your head close to his chest as you sobbed harder.

You couldn't be selfish. You knew your chance of winning would increase drastically if Azriel went out there. Even if it was at the cost of his own life. Yet, you couldn't help but regret all the moments you didn't have because you couldn't confess to him your true feelings.

You had been close friends for so long, you couldn't recall your life before him. The days felt brighter and happier, the nights were filled with drinks and laughter. He knew everything about you.

Almost everything.

You didn't know exactly when your feelings blossomed into something more but it was all you could think about most days. The colour of his eyes, the way he laughed with his head thrown back, the warm hugs he gave when he greeted you , the comforting touches on your arm when you were anxious about something.

Soon enough, you had started to notice the more...physical aspects. The way his tanned skin glistened with sweat after a training session, the curl of his biceps as he lifted his sword, the way his powerful back muscles stretched and defined the lines of his back and his tattoos. For the love of the Cauldron, his tattoos. Once, after a particularly intense training session, he'd taken off his shirt to cool off. A bead of sweat had trailed down his shoulders over the lines of his tattoos. You had wondered what it would feel like to chase it with your tongue and lick it off. A cold soak was how you had spent the rest of your afternoon.

You'd been so conflicted with your own emotions, you didn't have the nerve to tell him how you'd felt.

But now ? When this might be the last moment the both of you would ever share together ?

No. No. You couldn't do that to him. He needed to be focused out there. You wouldn't do that to him. Instead, you drew away from his chest and placed your hand on the back of his neck pulling his forehead to yours.

"You come back to me. Okay? You come back to me and I will tell you something I've never had the courage to tell you before okay?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and yet he nodded in agreement, his eyes hardening with resolve. Good. Placing a chaste kiss on your forehead in farewell , he left you alone in the dark confines of the room.

"Where did you go ?" a voice broke you out of your memory, bringing you back to reality. The stark contrast between the both made a rush of gratefulness encompass you.

"Was thinking about something." you said, shooting a smile at Cassian. His eyes darted across your face, understanding dawning upon him. "It's real." he said softly, gently squeezing your hand. "The war is over. We're all here and alive."

Emotions welled up inside you filling you to the brim and lining your eyes with tears. Sniffling lightly, you turned your head to discreetly wipe away a tear that had escaped.

Cassian's arm wrapped around you, tugging you closer to him. "Bask in the moment, Y/N. Everyone here loves you, let it heal you."

The both of you made your way to the seating area where everyone was sprawled. Your eyes met Azriel's, who was already looking at you with a slightly concerned look on his face. You gave him a reassuring smile gesturing to him that everything was alright. Satisfied with your answer, he continued his conversation with Feyre.

You needed to tell him tonight. It didn't matter if he reciprocated it or not. You needed to get it off of your chest so you could move on with your life. Your mind pulled you back into another memory reminding you of what had happened the last time you tried telling him.

It was over. They were alive. He was alive. You waited at the entrance to the healers tent where he was being treated with your hands trembling and heart pounding. You had to see him with your own eyes. Drink your fill. You thanked the Cauldron and the Mother and every other entity that the people of Prythian believed in for keeping him alive.

The healer stepped out of the tent and got startled when she almost ran into you. "Sorry." you said sheepishly, trying to peer around her into the area within. Following your line of sight, the healer let a small smile come onto her face. "He's fine. He'll be out in a moment."

Bowing your head in thanks, feet tapping to expel the nervous energy, you continued your vigil for a few more minutes.

Your felt him before you saw him. His scent enveloped you in a warm embrace dispelling your nervous energy and replacing it with relief. A grin broke out on your face, hands reaching out to him to tug him into an embrace.

You buried your face in his neck, making sure not to put pressure on his wounds.

"It's over Y/N. It's all over." Azriel's voice cracked as he held you close.

Tell him. Your mind screamed at you trying to overcome the barriers you had kept up. Pulling back , you stared up at his face your mouth opening and closing as you tried to gather your thoughts and form a coherent sentence.

Steeling your resolve, you pushed yourself over the line you'd drawn.

"Az...I---"

You paused as you watched his eyes widen at something behind you. Relief and something else..something you couldn't decipher but spoke volumes morphed his face.

"Mor..." he breathed out before letting go of you, the loss of touch feeling like a punch to the gut.

He rushed towards Mor who had been standing behind you at a distance nursing her own wounds. The cold air slammed into you at the loss of his body heat as if reminding you of your place in his life. Temporary.

You felt horrible. Mor had been injured as well and instead of helping her out, here you were feeling pitiful as you watched Azriel walk away. You couldn't move. You were frozen to the spot, a few tendrils of your hair whipping around you as the sting of the cold reddened your cheeks and cracked your lips.

You watched unblinking as he made his way to Mor , cradled her face in his hands and crushed her into a hug. You watched unblinking as his posture turned from tensed to relaxed the moment he hugged her. You watched unblinking as he shuffled away with her deeper into the camp.

Leaving you behind.

"You're doing that thing again." a voice broke you out of the memory yet again. This time it was Azriel. He'd switched places with Cassian, settling down on the floor next to you.

"Sorry. Long day." you said scooting closer to him as he draped an arm around you casually. You clinked your glasses and took a sip of your drinks settling into comfortable silence.

You'd noticed over the past few months that he'd stopped giving Mor longing looks and heated glances. The hope and feelings that you'd buried deep inside had come back to life despite your efforts to ignore them. Maybe you were foolish. But you'd never know unless you finally let it out. It was becoming too heavy for you to carry on your own.

"Az.." you said softly.

"Hmm..?" he leaned closer bringing his ear to your lips. Head buzzing at the proximity, you tried not to stammer as you said "I need to speak to you about something. Can you come to my room later?"

"Yeah sure. Everything okay?" he asked pulling back to look into your eyes.

"Y-Yeah."

"Liar." he murmured, eyes darting over your face. "You're nervous."

You gulped instinctively, his eyes taking note of the small action. He didn't miss anything. Except the one thing that mattered the most. He had somehow never figured out that his best friend is in love with him.

"Let's go now." he said bracing his hands on the floor to stand up.

"No...but..." you looked up at him dumbfounded.

"Everyone is going to head to bed soon. They're just waiting for someone to make the first move." he grinned holding out his hand for you to take.

Letting the warmth of his hand ground you, you stood up and dusted off your pants. You didn't notice the set of eyes that trailed you both as you left the room.

You went through all the possible scenarios in you head , braving yourself against the whirlwind of emotions that were about to be exposed. Now or never.

"Y/N." You stopped in your tracks noticing that Azriel wasn't beside you. Turning around, you saw him observing a flower pot that you had purchased from the market recently.

"Since when did you stop and stare at flowers?" you laughed walking back towards him.

A slight blush rose up on his cheeks making your smile broader.

"I got it at the market. Redecorating the whole place because I wanted it to be more lively. Do you like ?"

"Yes." he whispered as your face started giving way to confusion. He was acting very strange.

"It's just a plant Az. If you like it, have it. I'll just get another one." you watched his face closely.

"No..no I won't take it. I was just admiring it." He straightened up, pulling his eyes away from the plant.

"Ooookay, if you say so." you said brushing away the confusion. Yet, a bad feeling had taken root in your stomach. Nerves, you told yourself brushing that away as well.

"Actually..." he cleared his throat. "Can you give me the name of the seller. Maybe I'll get one for...myself." He wouldn't meet your eyes instead choosing to look right past you. He looked embarrassed, maybe shy even.

The bad feeling pushed its roots deeper, curling itself around you and making its way to the heart. You suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

However, you managed to choke out "Yourself? Or...someone, Az?"

He shuffled his feet , scratching the nape of his neck.

The roots reached your heart, slowly squeezing and fracturing the already delicate thing. You didn't need him to say the name. The sweet beautiful girl who had caught his eye. The female who was everything you weren't. The stark opposite.

"E-Elain?" you rasped, willing yourself to not show any reaction.

A faint smile appeared on his face at hearing her name.

Oh.

Oh.

You know the moment in time when you realise that something will impact you so detrimentally , you will never be the same again?

This moment defined it.

You almost heard your heart shatter...all over again.

Unfortunately this time, you didn't know if you had the energy to pick up the pieces and put them back together.

You felt hot and cold at the same time, frozen in time but feeling the burn in your eyes and heart. You'd gone still, oh so still wondering and horrified about how you would deal with this.

You'll never be his first choice. Your mind whispered making your heart clench painfully.

"Y/N?" Azriel stepped forward , concern etched into his face.

You instinctively stepped back, hoping that physical distance could repair something ..... anything within you.

Hurt flashed across his features as he noted the movement. You were exhausted . You were so tired of hiding your emotions behind a shield.

So you let him see.

You let him see the pain, the love, the anger, the regret and the fear behind your eyes.

You let him see the tears that trailed down your face and the tremble of your hands.

You let him see what you could've been and what would never be anymore.

Once the understanding dawned upon him, you turned around and walked away leaving behind the fragments of your heart at his feet.

A/N: That was DRAMATIC SHEEESH.

[mopopshop]

pls make a part 2 to wildflower it was so good omg 💕💕

The Love of My Life

Part 1 <- here

Hours had passed since Emily stormed out, and you'd managed to cry yourself into a restless nap on the couch. The soft light of dawn began creeping through the windows, casting a dim glow across the living room. The TV, still playing re-runs of the Golden Girls, became a blur in the background as you slowly woke up.

The sound of the front door unlocking roused you fully. You sat up groggily, wiping at your eyes and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Emily walked in quietly, her face a mixture of exhaustion and regret. She looked at you, eyes softening when she saw the tear-streaks on your cheeks.

"Hey," she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," you replied, your voice still thick from sleep and emotion.

Emily walked over to the couch and sat down beside you, leaving a small space between you. She took a deep breath, staring at her hands before speaking again. "I’m.. so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am, I was being so unfair to you and… you did nothing for me to act the way I did. I was being a dick, baby I’m so so sorry. “

You looked at her, the hurt from last night still fresh but mixed with a glimmer of hope. "I just., why did you act like that, Emily? It’s not like you to just... shut down and lash out like that”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don’t know. Seeing you with that girl... it just brought up a lot of insecurities. I felt like I was losing you, I don’t even know why but I did and instead of talking to you about it, I let it eat me up inside."

"Emily, I’m not even mad about the argument I’m just pissed that you didn’t think you could talk to me about it. Like? We-we tell each other everything and it hurts me that you didn’t even try to-“ you cut yourself off, tears springing to your eyes once again. You shove your face in your hands as an attempt to calm yourself so you can get through your sentence but it doesn’t seem to work, once the tears fall they don’t stop. 

Emily’s heart sinks at the sight of you crying, she immediately scoots off the couch and kneels down in front of you. She places her hands on your knees, rubbing gentle circles into them.

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry for that. I should have come to you right away, told you how I was feeling. You’re right, we do tell each other everything, and I don’t know why I didn’t this time. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and that was wrong.”

You sniffle, trying to wipe the tears from your face “I just don’t understand, Emily. I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me. Why didn’t you trust me?” 

“It’s not about you, baby it’s about me. I’ve got these insecurities and fears, and sometimes they just...take over. But that’s not fair to you. I should’ve never made that your issue.”

You sniffle again, nodding “I want this to be done with honesty, I just need reassurance that we’re gonna communicate better in the future.”

“We will, we will, we’ll get better, I’ll get better especially. I’m so so sorry, my love” she reaches for your hands, kissing the knuckles from her position on the floor “Please forgive me baby, I fucked up. I love you so much”

You roll your eyes teasingly “I love you too, I guess I forgive you”

You both chuckle and stand up, you wrap your arms around her broad shoulders as hers curl around your waist. You stand there swaying in the living room before sharing a deep kiss. 

You pull apart, pressing your foreheads together and you speak up “I don’t know about you but i’m fucking exhausted” you giggle 

“Same” she chuckles back 

“Carry me?” you put on your best puppy dog eyes, fully expecting her to carry you to your room bridal style.

She smiles and that’s the only warning you get before she throws you over her shoulder, cackling to herself.

“Emily! This is not- what I meant!” you squeal, smacking her back.

She’s still laughing to herself as she drags you to your bedroom. 

…

—————————————————————————

smb said they wanted emily to beg on her knees for forgiveness and i literally couldn’t get that out of my mind 😓🙏🏾

hope you guys enjoyed!

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

[earthtooz]

cw: fluff with minimal angst, reader and tsumu had an argument, msby4 is there, food mentions, probably bad writing like i just wrote this but i can't remember what i actually wrote which is a little alarming..., unedited and not proofread :,)

<bokuto3: hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: WHY DOES BOKKUN HAVE YOUR CONTACT AS '<y/n3'?????? OUTRAGEOUS.

<bokuto3: anyways hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: i miss u :( pls unblock me asap i'm sorry baby please i really am

<bokuto3: please don't be mad at me i thikn i'm lodsing my mind

<bokuto3: call me back. or text me back. unbloc k my email too thanx

<bokuto3: okay bye i luv u to the moon and back

<bokuto3: i'd do anything for u baby pls jyst talk to me again and i'd even swallow hot coals if you asked pls pls pls

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

you: give bokuto his phone back. get back to practice. bye.

<bokuto3: LOVE OF MY LIFE

<bokuto3: NO Y/N PLEASE I MISS YOU SO MUCH DON'T GO

you pocket your phone with a sigh, ignoring the way it continually buzzes with with messages and spam texts, probably just of atsumu professing his undying love for you and grovelling. pretty standard of him after an argument so intense that you had to walk out on before things escalated to places you would regret.

you can't deny that you miss him too, and it's been less than 24 hours since you saw him last.

in fact, you literally saw him this morning when sending him off to practice with a grumbled 'have a good practice' after he kissed over your forehead with a lightness rivalling a feather. a gentleness typically unseen from him.

really, the blond setter was just terrified of irritating you further.

then when you got up half an hour later, you're not pleased to see how atsumu was spamming you with messages, all conveying the messages he was scared of saying earlier. things like 'i love you', 'can't wait to go home to you', or 'did you see the photo of osamu's cat i sent'.

it's sweet, really; he is, but when you're still a little hurt from the harsh exchange you had last night, you didn't want him blowing up your phone this early in the morning.

so your only solution for a peaceful morning was to block him apparently.

something that clearly did not sit well with him because he then started spamming your socials and your emails with protests. did he not have practice to get to? where was all this time coming from?

you blocked him on those platforms too from the goodness of your heart because you had a feeling that he was skipping warmup in order to text you. if he pulled a muscle during practice, you don't want to begin imagining what a pain he'd be to look after.

glancing around the park you were currently strolling through to clear your mind, you only get a second to breathe when your phone starts buzzing again. this time, with a call notification from bokuto.

picking up, you immediately assume that it's atsumu who is bothering you after suffering the blows of how hard you've been ghosting him.

"atsumu for the love of-"

you're cut off of your own sentence when you hear somewhat muffled voices in the background.

"damn you messed up big time!" comes hinata's bubbly voice. you can indistinctly hear someone agreeing in the background- bokuto?

"stop rubbing it in!" atsumu exclaims, whining. you can picture him in your head right now, slouching against the wall as he deflates with each reminder of his mistake.

bokuto must have pocket-dialed you. you're about to hang up until you hear:

"how about you stop being miserable? your relationship with y/n will be fine as long as you apologise, this isn't the end of the world," lectures sakusa.

"for you maybe! ah already feel like y/n's slipping away from my grasp," cries your boyfriend. "and y/n is my world. so really, it does feel like the end of the world."

"you know what they say. love kills," mutters bokuto.

"literally no one has ever said that," sakusa deadpans.

"someone's probably said it."

"well if love does kill can it hurry up with atsumu?"

the dark-haired's simple statement makes you laugh, one that bursts suddenly before you have to cover your mouth from shame, hoping that it didn't disturb anyone.

"hey!" atsumu huffs before you can hear him groan dramatically again. except something's telling you that this isn't for show. "can't ya show a little sympathy to the guy who is having the worst time of his life? my partner doesn't even want to talk to me! i might as well rot right here and now."

"don't do that!" protests bokuto. "i'm sure y/n isn't as mad as you think. just talk to-"

"-what do you think i've been doing this whole time? i've been grovelling-"

"-no, you've been a bitch. i don't think telling y/n to 'text you back' counts as a proper apology."

the setter 'hmphs' and you can imagine the way he's crossing his arms. atsumu never did lose that immature side of him, but he tries, and you adore him for it. "is proclaiming my love not enough?"

"you can say 'i love you' to everyone, idiot, and you can confess your undying adoration for y/n any time. you do it on a regular basis anyways, atsumu, you don't need to double down on it just because you had an argument-"

"-but i'm scared that y/n will forget!"

the blond's outburst stuns everyone into silence. you hear a sniffle.

"what if i'm not worth the time? sometimes i get really scared that y/n might pack up and leave me because there's someone better out there. someone more patient and less of a hassle?"

it's so painfully silent, but each word that atsumu mutters is like a knife to your heart. how long has he felt this way?

hinata is the first to break the awkwardness. "c'mon man, you're literally high school sweethearts. i don't think you have anything to worry about."

"yeah, you're being silly right now, tsum-tsum!" bokuto agrees. "after all this time together, i think y/n has a reason to stay with you!"

"apart from my dashing good looks?"

"stupidity is temporary. get better soon," sakusa grumbles.

"omi-omi you're so mean!"

you hang up the call when you hear atsumu's chirpy tone again, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your own face. so long as he was happy, you were too.

that's what happens when you're soulmates, you suppose.

it's the same soulmate bond responsible for the fact that you were currently waiting outside the gym where msby practices were held, impatiently leaning against a small pole as you pass time on your phone.

then, just as you look up to check if anyone has left the building, your heart stops at the sight of a familiar faux-blond, animatedly chatting to one of his teammates. but when he meets your gaze, it takes him less than a fraction of a second to charge towards you.

instead of bracing for impact, you open your arms for him to tackle into, an offer he takes immediately.

as you both stumble backwards from the momentum, atsumu revels in your laughter and cherishes the feeling he gets knowing that everything is okay between you two. you chose to greet him after practice, you chose to go the somewhat inconvenient route all the way to his gym, you chose him and he hopes you never consider another option again.

and you won't. atsumu loves too hard and too well, warming you from the inside out to defrost any pain the coldness of life might leave you with. although he sometimes gets insecure about this overbearing trait of his, you get to show him each time just how beautiful it is; to wear your heart on your sleeve and love the world for what it is.

to love you for who you are.

"i'm sorry," he begins. "for what ah said last night, i was a real dick."

you smile. "well if you're really sorry, you'd let me take you out for some food, right?"

"only if it's your favourite."

"okay, sap. let's go then."

you think you hear atsumu whisper a 'thank you for letting me love you' before pulling him away.

[kittykattropicanna]

it's 2 am and i should sleep but i just read your prison penpal!ghost now it's rotting my brain!!!! ><

reader would so try to send him gifts if they're allowed. special holidays aren't miserable for him anymore as he would be accompanied by reader's sweet little presents!!!

Sleeps for the weak baby, sleep when you’re dead ;)

Of course you're going to look after your man, he does so much for you, the least you can do is send him some money to treat himself!!! maybe a gift or two you dirty girl :3

I know I promised to upload this last night after work but I was sleepy. IM SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

TW: edging, Si fucks himself with your dirty panties, smut, masterbation (Reader and Simon) its just fucking disgusting and dirty, but also kinda sweet <3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Absolutely, holy shit. After your first phone call, you’re his, he makes that so unbelievably clear through his next letters. :)))

Telling you how much he craves you, how you’re the only thing on his mind, describing in intimate detail how his gonna touch you, kiss you, fuck you :((((

His so fucking desperate for you, to the point he actually gets enraged knowing he can’t touch you. Just the thought of you being on the other side of the wall makes his skin crawl, you’re right there, only thick cement dividing him from you :(( 

Its even worse knowing that he can’t do anything about it >:(

Si’s a problem solver, he prides himself on being able to weasel his way out of practically any situation without a problem, if that’s  reducing his sentence down to basically nothing or getting away with his little late night phone calls with you. He always finds a way to make it work, but for the first time ever, he can’t fix this, his stuck here. No exceptions, no sweet talking to get what he wants, no amount of calculated manipulation could get him out of this situation, and it makes him go absolutely mad. 

At this point he has a year left of his sentence, his so fucking close to being let back into society, so close to finally being with you :(((

Letting his emotions (and dick) cloud his judgment, driving him to think about making stupid decisions such as an attempted jail break would be absolutely the worst idea of his entire life.

Ohhhhh, but its so tempting :(

But it would just put more time between you and him, as much as he wanted you now, he knew it was only going to rip him away from you again in the long run :/

And that’s if his even successful, one night with you would mean the world to him, but it wasn't worth being thrown back in jail, only separating the two of you for longer :(

He just needed to sit tight, let the days roll on and try not to think about your soft moans through the shitty speaker of the prison phone. :(((

He absolutely asked you to be official after speaking to you for the first time. It drives him crazy knowing when guys try and hit on you at the bar, you smile brightly and tell them that you're his, his to keep. 

One of the guards asked him what’s the first thing his going to do when he gets out, with a dopey smile he chuckles a little

“See ma’ missus mate” his so fucking cute, his actually so obsessed with you, so proud that you’re his ;))))

Of course the other inmates wouldn’t know, and technically he most definitely shouldn’t of told a guard, news spreads, but he couldn’t help it, it slipped out, and you know what, he was fucking proud of it :)))

You 100% would send him money and gifts, Si makes a little money, about £35 a week either cleaning, laundry duties, basic maintenance, basically anything the job program can offer him. 

The only issue being when he first signed up, he made sure that all his money was payed into Price’s bank account. He didn’t want to risk using it, the whole reason he started the work program was because he wanted to try and set himself up once he got out, at least have some type of savings waiting for him on the other side. Every now and then he regrets it, but he knows its for the best :/

Learning that Si was so strict with his money that he didn’t treat himself to anything didn’t sit well with you….and its not like you’re struggling financially, you work a good job and your daddy is always willing to send money if you ever needed it!!!!

A hundred odd pounds a month isn’t going to leave any sort of dint in your bank account, so of course your going to send Si some money to treat himself!!! You’re such a sweet, sweet girl :(((, his sweet, sweet girl. 

You start sending the maximum amount each month which comes out to about £150, its the least you can do!! His your boyfriend! he might be a felon, a little perverted and rough around the edges, but to you, his perfect :)))

His so grateful as well :(( treating himself to snacks :((( chocolate bars, skittles and gummy’s, buying himself a book or two, replacing his flat, stained pillow and ratted blankets, getting himself some actually nice soap and a new toothbrush, buying clothes that actually fit him!! 

His muscles have grown so much since being locked up :3 there’s nothing else to do besides lift weights, work and sit around :((((

“Sweetheart, I want ya’ to know, the second I get out of here, imma treat you real nice, give ya’ everything I can, look after ya’, protect ya’”

and

“The minute I get ya’ home, its all about you, yeah? Imma lay ya’ down and eat ya’ like a starved man, overstimulate that little cunt till ya’ beggin’ me to stop, fuck ya’ so deep and hard that you’ll forget ya’ fuckin’ name, whatever ya’ want darlin’ its all yours, been lookin’ after me so well….. imma show ya’ how much I appreciate it, as ya’ can probably tell, i’m more a man of action, poetry an’t ma style baby ;)”

Definitely learns origami from other inmates, makes little paper swans and hearts for you, the paper always being a little stained from his dirty fingers, obvious crease marks showing his folded it the wrong way and had to reattempt :))))

God he knows how to treat a women :33333

But what I really want to get into are the gifts you send him…..;)

As I established in my last fics about you sending things to Si, you absolutely send him innocent gifts. 

Photos, one of your favourite gold necklaces, an oversized tee that smells like your perfume…. Cute little personal things so he can have a piece of you, nothing crazy :3

I feel like you were reading a spicy romance book. It mentioned the main character stealing his lovers used panties out of her dirty laundry basket, very quickly and idea clicked in your brain :((((

You wanted it to be a surprise for him :(((( you didn’t mention it to him in your letters, only telling him your working on a little something that’s crafted just for him ;))

Waking up in the morning you make sure to fuck yourself with your fingers :(( 

Covering your panties with your juices, making sure their absolutely soaked in your cum :((

Rubbing your thighs together while you’re at work, soaking through your panties with your arousal :((( thinking about Si eating your pussy just like he promised while in important meetings, loosing focus…. your boss pulling you aside and asking if you’re okay :(( 

Scrambling to find an answer to explain your distracted behaviour and flushed cheeks >:(

He ends up sending you home because you’re distracting everyone with your aloofness :(( putting the rest of your team behind because you're a selfish girl with a dirty mind >:( can’t even focus in your workplace because Si’s dirty words have taken over every aspect of your thoughts >:(

At the end of the day your panties are ruined with your slick, soaked  all the way through and smelling of your orgasm just like you planned ;))

And when Si received your thong obviously used??? :000000 he let out a low grunt....

Just the idea that you did this for him, fully confirming in his mind that you wanted him, craved him just as much as he craved you made something animalistic set off in his mind….

Because he received your package in the middle of the day, he couldn’t hide and tend to himself like normal >:((((((

He needed you now, he needed to fuck his cock NOW, not wait till his cell mates were asleep, his heavy balls ached and he knew if he didn’t relieve himself soon, his blue balls would become unbearable >:(((( aching and hurting with each step, uncomfortable and frustrated :(

Purposely being a dick and coursing havoc with his inmates so he can be locked up for his disruptive and disrespectful behaviour ;)))))

A shit eating grin when his in handcuffs being walked to his cell, knowing your panties are tucked into his boxers ;))))) his won yet again ;)

Like I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, he ALWAYS gets what he wants :)))

The second his cell locks his ripping his hard, leaky cock out and wrapping your used panties around himself :((((

Pumping his fat dick, the friction of the fabric making it that much more satisfying :((((

Closing his eyes and imagining you walking around all day, turned on and flustered for him >:((((( the idea of you restricting yourself from fucking other men because you're his, knowing all you want is to be filled with dick, have the feeling of a real cock fucking you, not your cold, rubber dildo >:(

His precum mixing with your juices only turns him on more, knowing that this is the closest he’ll get to fucking your cunt for now :(( 

As his big hands slowly pump his dick, wanting to savour the moment, he lets out animalistic grunts, slowly speeding up and then slowing his pace, he edges himself almost whimpering when he refrains from his release yet again :(((

Something about holding back satisfies him, his training himself for you, getting ready for when he fucks you for the first time, wanting to hold out long enough that he can rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, forming a white rim of your cum around the base of his cock :(((

Grunted whispers of your name falling from his lips as he tries to hold back yet again, legs twitching and face getting hot as uncontrollable ropes of cum finally release from his vainy cock :(((

His never cum that much in his life, your panties damp with his semen, dick so sensitive that even the feeling of the fabric from his boxes makes him flinch >:(((

You’re such a good girl, always knowing how to please him, feels like you know him inside and out already ;)

You just wait until he gets his hands on you sweet girl ;))) 

Y'all are so fucking obsessed with each other I CAN'T

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

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[tarjapearce]

I’m missing Miguel ((and spider family)) more recently 💔 and just thinking of him going on a business trip where he gets more busy and barely being able to talk or text you ((which makes you sad)) :(( he isn’t home until a week but that’s when he decided to work harder and do all nighters to finish early and get home to you and the little spiders :((

Timeskip to him coming home early without telling you about it, silently walking into the house without making any noise. Kids are at school during the time he arrives. Quietly going into the bedroom knowing you’re taking your noon nap. He carefully lays besides you and wraps his arms around to try and at least not to wake you up but fails 😭 ☹️ you’re up and happy to see him telling him he isn’t supposed come until the next week. 💔

Bonus: He surprises Gabby and Benji while picking them up from school 😭

Welcome Back, Papa!

Had a lil strength to come up with this 🥹. I'm sorry, I'm in dire need of fluff after this week 😭.

Warnings: None. Just Fluff, Slice of life, Domesticity, Dad Miguel ~

It was times like these Miguel sometimes regretted taking that promotion as a lead scientist and manager in Alchemax Lab's department. No project came without his approval, his knowledge was highly valued among the multinational.

But that meant more responsibilities, which sometimes demanded his presence  outside Nueva York, hold meetings and even give some workshops to younger scientists entering the company.

His reluctance finally was brought down when you saw him brooding in his office, nursing his temple as he looked through some files. Lab coat still on.

What started as a little tease and joking, ended up in a honest talk.

He couldn't help but chuckle faintly at your attempt to light the mood.

"Hey..." You cupped his face and kissed his temple, "Work is work. They want  you there cause you're the smartest cookie in the pack."

"Besides... I'll manage. Don't worry okay?"

"Hard to not when Benjamin just came out from a cold and fever"

You sat next to him, taking his hand in yours.

"Look, mi amor. We'll be fine. I know this won't be the first nor the last time you'll get sent away to another branch. Of course we'll miss you."

His shoulders slumped. He had tried to delay as much as he could this responsibility, but unavoidably as it was, he had to go, for three weeks.

He'd be gone for twenty one days, deprived of you and his family. Gabi gave him a squeeze upon noticing him in the blues, same as Benjamin, Rosie was fussy; as if sensing trouble, but eventually got to sleep.

"We're not going anywhere, okay? We'll videochat every night, I'll call you in your lunch breaks, and when you return"

You smooched him and grinned, "We'll have all the fun you want."

"Oh really?"

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he sunk his face in your neck. Taking a deep inhale, as if memorizing your scent. He hadn't left yet and was already missing you.

"Yeah. Will wear that red lace set you love-"

Your sentence was left hanging as a squeal replaced it. He peppered your face and lips with his kisses, to then rest at your temple.

"If something happens, you call me. Entendido?" (Understood?)

"Yes sir."

-----

The hardest thing he had to do that morning was kissing you all goodbye, but the sooner he got there, he'd pour himself to work, and finish it all soon so he could return to his awaiting family.

"Love you so much. Help your mom while I'm gone, okay, champ?" Benjamin nodded teary eyed, "I'll be back soon okay?" Miguel kissed Gabi's and Rosie's temple, and finally kissed you.

"Call me." He instructed before going away

"Bye Papa!"

"Nos vemos, campeón! Pórtense bien!" (See you, champ, be good!)

"Adiós, Pa!"

He waved off to Gabi.

And an hour later you'd get a text from him.

Ya te extraño, mi reina.

This made your heart bloom with warmth. These two weeks would definitely be torture without him, but with a great power, came a great responsibility.

Soon you'll have him all to yourself again. But right now, all you could do was to hug a heartbroken Benji.

"He'll be back soon, mi amor. I promise."

Benjamin just nodded and followed Gabriella inside as Rosie stared at you.

"I know you want your Papa to sing to you before bed, but you'll have to put up with me, princesita."

Rosie cooed but smiled. Her lovely eyes raked over your face, as you took her inside.

----

Miguel's absence had started to seep through you all. It was bittersweet to call him, seeing him but being unable to touch or talk to him properly, to then hang up and see everyone's faces all glum.

You tried to keep them busy, Gabriella helped you around with Rosie or the house keeping, and so did Benjamin.

After the first three nights, the both had surprised you by joining you on bed. Gabriella had seen you cry as you folded the laundry. It didn't help that you were on your period, making a mess out of your hormones and emotions.

"We miss him too, Mama."

Rosie had her crib in your room, Benjamin cuddled you on the right, and Gabriella to your left, holding you by your waist.

"I know, Solecito. Just a couple of weeks more and we'll have your dad back."

"I don't like it when Papa leaves." Benjamin mumbled and you kissed his head as your hands caressed Gabi's hair.

"I don't like it either, but he is a busy man, mi amor. " 

His little hands hogged the sheets.

"What does he do anyway?"

This made you chuckle. Benjamin wasn't used to see Miguel in his work clothes.

"Dad is a scientist, Benji. He, uh, creates things." Gabriella explained while rubbing her eyes, sleepily.

"A dentist?!" You chuckled

"No, mi amor. A scientist"

"I thought Papa was a doctor"

"He is. But not the kind of doctor that you see at hospitals. Imagine being in a laboratory, and there is alot of people there. Your Papa works with them so we can have new things."

"Like?" He yawned

"New vaccines, medicines, that sort of stuff"

"Can you ask him to make medicines that tastes like my nuggies?"

This pulled a genuine laugh off your chest, your baby boy followed.

"Let me ask him tomorrow."

-----

There wasn't a day that you all weren't in his mind. At first he grew anxious, knowing how difficult it was to handle a whole household on your own.

He'd send text often, asking about you, or the kids. You'd send him pictures of them doing different activities or sleeping. And sometimes to keep him motivated, you'd send him a couple of pictures or videos of yourself.

He missed you. That was sure, he missed your hair tickling his nose and trapping his face in it. Your huggable body he relished spooning onto, you welcoming home with the calm he needed after a hectic day and his kids being annoyingly adorable. He missed you all.

The kids and your saddened yet understanding face were enough for him to work hard every day, by pulling all nighters to have his didactic material and reports done. By the end of the week, he was tired enough, to just return to his hotel room and crash, absolutely quanked after hours of meetings, holed up in labs and audiroriums.

But it granted him the outcome he was looking for. With a couple of talks to an old friend of his, Xina, Miguel rearranged the whole scheduled activities to finish the workshops in a week, leaving him completely free for the next one. He had everything done for the other scientists and managers in charge.

They saw no reason to keep him longer than they should, so they let Miguel go.

He spent the whole day sleeping, recharging, he didn't call you that night, which worried you, but you knew how Alchemax got whenever they needed him.

Hope everything is going fine. Te amo.

----

As soon as the alarm hit five am, he checked out the room and drove back home. If his calculations were correct, he'd be there in a couple of hours.

The need of seeing you and his family after two weeks away. He couldn't have another. He needed you.

He needed your kisses, Gabriella's joy and jokes, Benjamin's odd questions and Rosie's laugh. And he needed them now.

After long hours of driving a familiar neighborhood came into view, and soon his home came into sight. Clock ticked three pm, meaning you'd be asleep with Rosie.

He parked the car, got his stuff out and closed the door. Heart beating a mile per second, it reminded him of the first time you came to his home, to watch a movie, without knowing it'd be the night you'd kiss and seal your forever deal.

Thrill ran through his body as he quietly opened the main door and put his things on the couch. He wasted no time and came up the stairs, and pushed the ajar door open. A relieved yet breathless sigh escaped his mouth upon watching you.

Curled up in the middle, cuddling his pillow, hugging it.

For a second, he'd scowl at the pillow as it was so lucky to have you just thw way he liked. But no object would replace him.

No object could hug you and love you the way he did. With slow and silent strides, he kneeled on the mattress, dipping it's surface with his weight to then lay next to you.

His shoulders slumped as he wrapped his arms around you. Fingertips roaming and exploring, as if he was discovering you for the first time again. You were real and his. He was there, with you, breathing the same air.

His face sunk in your hair, lovely strands caressed his face, just the way he had missed. Sweet aroma oozed from your skin, heartbeats calming down enough from their frenzy. He was home.

Eyes raked over your sleepy form, and he couldn't help but kiss your cheek, your temple and the corner of your lips.

The latter stirred you awake. For a moment he regretted waking you up, but guiltiness flew out the window when you stared at him like the first time he said he loved you. Wide eyed, blinking almost stupidly at him but oh so full of joy.

Your arms immediately went around him as he kissed you. Lips crashing on yours with such hunger he fumbled.

"Mi reina" he breathed before squeezing you into his broad chest, peppering your face and lips in kisses, mumbling I love you's and I missed you's so much in between them.

"Mi amor" His heart fluttered as yours came in tandem with it. "I thought you weren't coming until next week"

He shook his head, cupping your face in his hands, delivering you a final and loving kiss.

"Couldn't do it. I was missing you too much."

"We've been missing you too, the kids have been making me company."

"Yeah?" Another kiss, cause the previous thousands weren't enough.

"Yeah. Benji asked if you could make medicine taste like his Dino nuggets."

He chuckled while hoarding you in his frame.

"It's not impossible but, it's complicated.  Por Dios. No sabes cuánto me alegro de estar aquí." (By God, you have no idea how happy I am to be here)

"Not to be mean, but Gabi kicks in her sleep."

He removed a straying strand off your face, to properly admire you. Ever beautiful and radiant, like that night in Peter's carneada.

God, he loved you.

"What?" Your smile stretched further as he mimicked your lips.

"Nothing. Just thinking how... lucky I am."

Your heart melted. Your patience had rewarded you with a sweet man. He had passed from being difficult to express his feelings, to shower you in affection on a daily basis.

Public displays of affection weren't his thing, until you showed up and taught him the right ways. You had rewired his brain in such a wonderful way he'd be a liar to say if he didn't enjoy.

"Let's pick up the kids."

He offered and you nodded, already excited for the idea.

"Let's get Gabi first."

------

Rosie awoke as you drove the car, seeing her Papa made her squeal and kick her feet excitedly.

"Hola, Rosita preciosa" She cooed with a smile as Miguel winked her way.

You picked your car since you both wanted to be as sneaky as possible about it. You let Gabi know you were outside.

A couple of minutes passed when you heard the squealing outside the car as Miguel squeezed her.

"Papa!!!"

"Mi Solecito hermoso. I missed you." (My beautiful sunshine.)

"Thought you'd come next week? Never mind that. You're home!"

His princess was like the Koala to his tree built. His hands ruffled Gabi's hair to then kiss the top of her head as she laughed.

"Let's go get your brother."

"Can we have some pizza later?!"

"'Course we can."

She beamed to then hug you and get in the car.

"I'll go get Benjamin."

You walked over the pre-school area and went towards Benjamin's classroom. He was finishing a drawing and beamed when he saw you.

"Mama!"

"Hello my pretty boy"

You hugged him and kissed his cheek repeatedly, "Ready to go home?"

"Yes. Look!" He showed you the drawing, you gasped, "Look at that! You did it by yourself?"

He giggled as he put on his backpack

"Teacher helped me."

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Mackie."

Benji waved his goodbyes to his teacher and walked with you towards the entrance.

"Benji, baby."

"Yes, Mama?"

You helped him to remove the little backpack and held his drawing.

"Do you know who's that man?"

"Who?"

His eyes followed your finger and gasped when he saw Miguel

"Papa!!" He bolted towards him, curls bouncing in the way, "Papa!"

Tears begun streaming down his face as he clung to him. Miguel quickly hugged him.

"Mi campeón, te extrañé mucho" Miguel mumbled as he rubbed in soothing circles his son's back, letting him cry while Benji now clung to his neck.

"You'll make me cry for real, buddy"

Miguel held Benjamin in one arm as he used his other free hand to wipe his tears.

"I'm here okay?"

"¿Te vas a ir otra vez?" (Will you leave again?)

Miguel shook his head and kissed his boy's curly head

"No. I just returned cause your Mama told me you missed me. I had work to do but I finished early. Couldn't leave my boy like that."

You put Benjamin's things inside the car

"Wanna go get some pizza?"

Benjamin just nodded and Miguel gave him a squeeze, earning a giggle from his boy.

"Let's go then."