#or better yet start n FINISH an animation

[taxlthomas]

gonna post these before they pile up again agh

[mojoworlddotcom]

Despite how little I post about it (never), I am always thinking about hypothetical x-force cartoon.

[angelltheninth]

May i request a jinwoo(solo lvling) smut drabble pls:D?

Yes! The anime adaptation is so good!

Pairing: Sung Jingwoo x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rivals with benefits, banter, slight pining, competition, possessive sex

A/N: Excited to see him become the badass that I know and love.

RwB!Sung Jinwoo used to hate seeing you on the same dungeon as him, not exactly trying to steal his thunder but clearly enjoying tagging along to mess with him

RwB!Sung Jinwoo would tease you a lot when he'd clear more monsters then you but offer you a consolation prize in the form of a kiss, it used to be a joke between the two of you but as tensions grew so did the realization of that offer until you found yourself on the receiving end of it

RwB!Sung Jinwoo treats it as a somewhat friendly competition to see who can make who finish first, he's not very confidant, he doesn't have much experience himself but he enjoys the cocky then flustered look on your face

RwB!Sung Jinwoo avoids kissing you when you have sex to minimize the chances of any more romantic attachments forming, you only hang out when you go to clear dungeons and when you have sex

RwB!Sung Jinwoo respects your abilities yet refuses to admit defeat easily, always striving to be better and faster, to prove to everyone that he's not the loser he once was and when he feels especially down he turns to you and under the guise of your benefits wants to not think about his worries for a while

RwB!Sung Jinwoo is a very passionate and giving lover despite your differences and bickering, when he does something he does it well and that incudes you

RwB!Sung Jinwoo always makes sure you finish, it doesn't matter who does it first but you have noticed his orgasms are a lot stronger after he makes you come, even if his dick wasn't inside you at the time

RwB!Sung Jinwoo is careful not to hurt you further in case you got injured and keeps his pace slow and even until you start riding his cock harder because how dare he think his cock can break you when a demon couldn't

RwB!Sung Jinwoo doesn't mind you seeing other people but absolutely does not want to know anything in detail, he will always fuck you harder if he notices you talking to someone that you're even a bit flirty with

RwB!Sung Jinwoo always leaves first and clears a few more demons before going home because that's the only way he can deal with, ignore and push down these feelings he's been getting whenever he sees you

[veala2]

“ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴇɴᴀɴɪɢᴀɴꜱ.”

☀︎ luffy, zoro, sanji, ace, sabo. ☀︎

SYNOPSIS - Some mornings are the same, some change for the better or the worse. But being with your boyfriend will always be something different. And definitely something stupid. ft. Izou in Ace’s!

CW - nothing but silliness and fluff, as per usual. gn! reader, mentions of throwing up (as a joke), some perverted- ness (sanji), and that’s it.

A/N - when I tell you this idea was so random. My aunt gave me this idea after telling me about how she almost died on her own acid reflux when she woke up. Anyways, enjoy!

Holy SHIT when I tell you how messy this man’s morning routine is, it.. well, it won’t shock you ‘cause it’s Luffy.

The moment you open your eyes, you're hit with Luffy snoring, drooling, and hot breath right up in your face.

Not to mention he’s practically turned himself into a pretzel cuddling you. You have to detangle your stretchy boyfriend every morning.

He wakes up, confused on how he managed to get on the floor.

A series of giggles followed in pursuit of Luffy gargling mouthwash in his mouth, proceeding to then shoot it out like a spray bottle into the sink. Whether day or night, your goofy boyfriend always did manage to make you laugh.

“Luffy! You got mouthwash all over the sink!” You said, trying to stay serious, a smile on your face despite your efforts to scold him. He shot you back a toothy grin. A shiny grin, you threw in, from all the cleaning you forced him to endure.

“Wasn’t my fault. My tongue felt like it was on fire!” He retorted, sticking his tongue as if to show legitimate fire, hot and blazing.

The night before, your boy feasted himself on the meat of an extremely large animal he caught. He gobbled the thing down, and it was too little too late before you realized how rank his breath was from it.

He passed out, leaving you exasperated and annoyed.

“Well, captain, next time brush your teeth before you head to bed. Your breath reeked, it’s a miracle I’m still alive right now.” You retorted, pinching his round cheeks. Luffy let you stretch his face out and play around with his features, causing you to giggle. Letting go, you place a chaste kiss on his lips, before going back to brushing your own teeth.

“But… you can get away with it this time ‘cause your cute.”

Zoro is a late sleeper and an early riser on most days. But, when Nami say’s the skies are clear and there isn’t a single marine in sight, he will take this slim opportunity to sleep in for hours.

When you wake, you're not greeted with his face. Rather, his sculpted back and a strong arm around your torso that he kept for the entire night.

He snoozes into his pillow, face first. As if he’s completely dead to the world.

Well… there have been times you thought so.

Literally.

Rays of the morning sun hit your face as you wake up from a night of well deserved rest. Being a pirate is a tiring and thankless lifestyle, so a night’s rest feels like heaven. You think this, silently laughing to yourself as you slept next to the ‘king of hell’, ironically enough.

Zoro’s out cold. His effortless back on prominent display, embraced by the sun’s glow.

You smile to yourself, admiring his features that aren’t so obviously impressive to some. Surprisingly, you couldn’t hear any snoring from the swordsman. Almost as if he was actually dead…

“Zoro… honey, wake up.” You whisper, hands grabbing both of his shoulders to wake him. He give’s no response in return, causing you some worry. “Zoro, c’mon, it’s time to get up.”

Yet again, nothing. The worry was starting to take over, so you leaned down to check for any signs of him breathing. In the blink of an eye, your swordsman boyfriend lifts his upper body up, knocking you in the nose.

“Yawn, ‘morning. Babe, what are you doing holding your nose like tha-“ Before he could finish the question, he was greeted by you with a loving pillow to his face.

At the start of your relationship, the idea of being near you all the time already made him all heart- eyed and cheerful. So, when you suggested sleeping in the same bed, this man was over the moon and beyond!

He’d stay as still as a plank, not wanting to move or disturb you in your realm of slumber.

Sanji would be so happy, he’d make you bed in breakfast when you woke up!

Now that the two of you have been together for a while, he’s gotten used to cuddling you and being the big spoon.

But, that doesn’t stop him from surprising you now and then.

“Sanji, you really don’t need to keep doing this.”

You say to him, as if it would stop him from setting the lovingly decorated tray in front of you with a giddy smile.

“Nonsense! I insist on taking care of my precious partner. A man can show his love in many ways, and I’m no ordinary, greasy and gross man. Mine is just a fraction of what I can do for you, my love!”

His proclamation of love made your cheeks turn red, a dreamy sigh escaping your lips. It didn’t take you long after your relationship with Sanji started that you realised you were in for the long haul. Through thick and thin, young and old, the strawhat chef is honestly and inexplicably in love with you.

He sat beside you, placing his head on your shoulder and sighing lovingly. You brought a spoon up to your mouth and took the first bite, eyes lighting up.

“Wow,” you gasped, “you remembered my favourite breakfast!” You happily munched down on the hot meal, cheeks stuffed and nose hit with the delicious aroma. “You tend to remember all my favourite things, huh?”

“Of course! I know your favourite meals, favourite smells, music, clothes… under garments. Like your favourite underwear you’re wearing right now-“

“SANJI!”

It’s a 50/50 chance with your hot boyfriend if your morning is gonna be filled with passionate kisses, cuddling, maybe some extra time in bed…

Or having him come back from an early morning mission, stinky and sweaty (like his brother), and absolutely, positively, drool all over you.

Unfortunately, you let it slide. ‘Cause he’s a hottie with an even hotter body.

Nevertheless, there are some days when you just want to kick him out and get a couple hours of sleep without the need of throwing up yesterday’s dinner. Thatch would be pissed!

“I’m telling you, Izou, he just keeps doing it! Next time it happens, and I smell it-” You stop yourself, before bringing a free hand up to make a slashing motion near your neck. The sniper got a quick chuckle out of that.

“Precisely the reason pirates should avoid intimate relationships.” He stated, taking a sip of his morning tea. You scoffed.

“Well, that’s boring. And besides, it’s no use on me, his puppy- dog eyes always bring me back to why I love him.” You sigh. As if on cue, your goofy boyfriend comes bursting through the door. Scratches on his face and body, in one hand he carries a large bag of jingling gold, and the other hides behind his back.

“Baby! I’m back from my mission, hope I didn’t keep you waiting! Oh, ‘morning, Izou.” He greets you and his friend. You pout, looking at his muddy and dirty outfit.

“Hope you don’t expect to come back to bed with me like that.” You mumbled, taking a sip of your drink. Planting a kiss on your head, he gets down on one knee and looks you in the eye.

“I know you don’t like it when I come home dirty, and I promise I’ll try my best to clean up for you. On my way back, I passed by a hill and thought you might like this.”

Ace pulls out a bunch of pretty flowers, making you gasp. You couldn’t help but feel cheery, smelling the flowers and giving him a big ‘ol smooch. Izou tsk’s and walks out of the kitchen.

“Kids these days.”

You wouldn’t guess it by looking at him, but Sabo takes pretty good care of himself.

His seamless, flawless skin is not entirely genetic. The countless skincare products scattered among his bathroom sink is the answer to that question.

Didn’t take long for you to start using it as well, leaving him to catch you in the act. He’d come busting through the door like SWAT when you put on his moisturiser.

They were just sitting there, ready to be used! Was this really your fault, though? Sabo definitely thinks so.

Like thunder, the mahogany door slammed open, leaving you to scream and jump. You turn your head, eyes wide and freightened. Not at the thought of who it might be. Oh, no. Rather, who you already know and what he might do.

“I knew it! Love, you gotta stop using my products, I’m running out twice as quickly and it’s a bitch to get more.” He sighs, eyebrows furrowed, already grabbing a towel to wipe down your wet face.

He gently ran the fluffy material all over your face. Making sure to not poke your eyes. Even when your boyfriend is mad at you, he can’t help but take care of you. Kind of weird considering he was trying to be mad at you, getting a chuckle out of you.

“I’m sorry, hon. I just felt really gross when I woke up, and thought how nice everything you have looked.”

He huffed, puffing his cheeks out and placing his hands on his hips. You couldn’t help but laugh again, grabbing his face and placing a long kiss on his cheek.

“‘Tell you what, I’ll go out today and get you more stuff. And, I’ll keep buying you this stuff if you let me use it. We got a deal, sweet thing, mr. love-of-my-life?”

Sabo sighed, grabbing you by the waist and giving you a proper kiss.

“Sure, baby, sure.”

[mercurygguk]

head over skates · jjk ; part i.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.

so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,514

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing

a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!

“The project will be done in pairs of two–”

Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.

“–which have already been decided beforehand.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–

Oh, hell no.

The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.

When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.

Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.

As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.

Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were. 

While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless. 

And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.

It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.

Your friendship did end.

It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.

Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends. 

And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.

And guess what? He was damn good at it.

Ego overfed.

As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed. 

The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.

Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”

You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.

“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”

Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”

You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”

“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”

The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.

What a lucky bitch.

“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”

You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.

all rights reserved © mercurygguk · tumblr

[yawnderu]

Cat and Mouse — König x Reader

CW: porn with barely any plot, primal play, hunter and prey, rough sex, previous consent, established relationships, anal fingering, König is too in love to fuck you hard, love-making.

A/N: I'm taking a very short break after this one, trying to work on my writer's block and to come up with better ideas. My inbox and dms are always open, I love getting random asks and talking to all of you!♡

The wind blew on your hair as you ran through the woods, barely managing to narrowly miss the trees when you turn back, the giant man chasing after you standing out easily— his imposing figure looking even more intimidating under the moonlight.

His cocky laugh encourages you to run faster, your heart beating in your ears when you hear him start chasing after you again, legs already exhausted from running nonstop for the past ten minutes, never once losing sight of the masked man matter how fast you ran. He was simply faster, with a better stamina that came from being a soldier most of his life. You gasp for air, lungs greedily taking in the oxygen as the world starts to blur out, the muffled sounds of nature around you doing nothing to help as you manage to find the strength to run.

"Get over here!" His loud voice overpowered your surroundings, burly arms wrapping around your waist before manhandling you onto the ground, holding you still no matter how much you tried to kick and scream.

In a pathetic attempt to escape him you throw a punch to his face that connects square on his jaw, the man's grip on you loosening slightly out of shock. You take the chance to try to run away again, barely managing to get on your knees before he's pushing your face down onto the cold, moist soil, the strong smell nulling your senses so bad you don't feel him pulling down your pants until the cold wind hits your bare cunt.

"Caught you, kleine maus." He taunts in a whisper, running one of his gloved fingers up and down your cunt, spreading the wetness all over it before he wets his thumb, pressing onto your puckered hole.

"Wait—" His hand comes down to deliver a hard slap to your ass, the whine of protest you let out doing nothing but make the blood rush faster to his cock. He manages to get his thumb in, fucking it in and out of your ass. You bite your hand in an attempt to muffle your tiny moans, the stimulation of all the nerves being touched by his thick thumb already getting to you, feeling your wet cunt clench around nothing, making the tall man behind you let out an amused, taunting laugh.

"Little mouse likes getting chased around like an animal, ja?" He's clearly trying to get into your head and it's working, not even protesting when you hear his zipper being pulled down, his heavy cock laid out on your ass. König is huge— you've seen it way too many times, felt it way too many times, yet it never fails to surprise you.

"Well, spatzi, you act like an animal—" His words are interrupted by a muffled groan, his cock sinking into you slowly, yet it's so painfully tight he never got used to it. He groaned as he finally bottomed out, a sharp hiss mixing in with your moaning.

"You get treated like one." He finished his sentence, his free hand holding onto the curve of your waist, fingers bruising the skin as he began to thrust into you, movements fast and desperate, your warm insides feeling way too good.

"Fuck— slow down, König." You plead pathetically even when that's the opposite of what you truly want, feeling the tip of his cock slam into the spongy spot of your cunt over and over, whiny moans mixing in with his loud groans and growls.

"No can do, Schatz." You can hear the shit-eating smirk he has under the sniper hood, almost making you smile before he starts to slam his hips into you faster, pulling his cock out all the way before slamming himself back in. You're reduced to a pathetic moaning mess as König drills into your cunt, hitting every single sensitive bundle of nerves along the way to hit your cervix.

He pulls out suddenly, making you feel empty for a second before he manhandles you onto your back, taking a second to admire your pretty, fucked-out face and body. One of his warm hands comes down to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the skin softly before he slowly pushes into you, this time much more gentle. Truth is, König wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fuck you good and hard, yet how can he resist the urge to make love to you when you look up at him with nothing but trust and adoration in your eyes?

"Pretty girl." He muses, holding his weight above you as his hips roll against yours, pushing himself deep inside with every single thrust. He's nothing like before— all the adrenaline from chasing you down fully gone as he simply focuses on making love to you, light blue eyes looking down at you with nothing short of raw devotion. Your legs wrap around his defined waist and he fucks into you harder, one of his gloved hands coming down between your bodies to rub on your hard clit.

"Fuck—" Your back arches, hips moving weakly to meet his thrusts, the double stimulation driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, my pretty girl." His masked lips are planted on your forehead for a soft kiss, his fingers rubbing faster and faster as he feels his cock twitch, wanting nothing else than to finish inside you.

"Can I come inside, liebling? Want me to fill you up...?" His masked face is buried into the crook of your neck, eyes closed tightly as he tried his best to get your consent before cumming.

"Need— need to cum inside. Fill you up with my babies, please." He was now getting whiny, images of your tummy stretched out carrying his baby with your tits full of milk raid his brain, numbing him out to everything around him other than the way your tight cunt suck him in.

"Yes— cum inside, baby." Your arms wrap around his neck while your thighs hold him on a leg lock, pushing him even deeper into your cunt, not allowing his stuttering hips to pull out much as he ruts into you, his fingers going back to rub your clit, your bodies uniting as one in a display of love and passion, orgasms hitting together like a tidal wave. Your cunt tightens up around him, his balls emptying all the way deep inside you, a low growl coming out of his lips.

He tries his best not to collapse on top of you, managing to pull out slowly and lay down next to you, pulling you closer to him. He takes deep breaths, his big hand gently massaging your scalp before looking down at you, meeting your gaze. You can't see it because of the mask, yet the way his eyes soften and turn into crescents is enough for you to know he's smiling.

[angelic-muse]

unforgettable

a/n: i couldn't not write anything for his special day, so enjoy, and happiest of birthdays to my silly mosshead man. this was written with both anime and opla zoro in mind so feel free to interpret it as either.

pairing: roronoa zoro x gn!reader

warnings: just fluff, not proofread

summary: it's your lover's birthday, and what better way to start the celebration than to stay awake and surprise him at midnight?

...that is, if you can stay awake.

must stay awake... must stay awake.

the sentence replayed itself in your groggy head like a mantra, a broken record stuck on repeat, a toy train running in slow circles around your brain as you fought the urge to tip over the line between wakefulness and sleep.

zoro deserved more than that.

"my birthday? never really done anything for it," he'd grunted the day before after you'd brought it up. the swordsman had frowned, scratched his head. "kinda forgot it was tomorrow, actually."

and it was then that you decided to make this birthday — and all his next ones, for that matter — unforgettable.

so after some pleading with nami that then lead to careful rearrangement of night watch schedules (despite the crew's grumbling), zoro would be set to finish his shift at midnight — exactly midnight.

and what would he find when he returned to his room? you, of course, waiting for the moment he stepped through the door to shower him in love and birthday wishes, followed by a day of celebrations just for him.

well, that was your plan.

but the actual staying awake hadn't been part of it.

since your shift for night watch was the last one, just before sunrise, you were lucky enough to be able to sleep soundly all night till then. which meant you were not at all used to being awake at this time and your body was slowly but surely losing the fight to fall unconscious.

you yawned, blinking heavy eyelids as you turned to squint at the sky, the gentle moonlight washing the deck of the going merry in its milky glow. it wasn't quite yet at its highest point — still not midnight.

surely a little lay down before zoro returned couldn't hurt, right?

don't fall asleep, you promised yourself one last time as you settled into his own hammock, breathing in the lingering scent of him with a sigh. don't fall asleep...

zoro muttered angrily as he stomped across the ship back to his room, not bothering to soften the loud thumping of his boots against the planks, swords clanking noisily at his hip.

"serves 'em right if they wake up," he groused, "putting me up there at this time all of a sudden for no fuckin' reason—"

he cut short as he shoved into his room, raising a brow at the sight that met him as he rid himself of swords and shirt. there you were, curled up in his spot, sleeping soundly like a contented cat.

"the hell you doing in my hammock?" he grumbled under his breath, but zoro slid in beside you anyways, throwing an arm over your shoulders and folding the other behind his head. he didn't mind that you were here — he never did. sleeping beside you was nothing out of the ordinary anymore. he liked it, enjoyed the easy comfort and security that came with you tucked against his side; hearts beating in time, every breath shared.

it was right when zoro was beginning to drift off that he felt you stir awake. cracking open one eye, he watched as you sat up, blinking tiredly. "zo... zoro?"

"what got you up?" he murmured as you yawned and stretched your arms overheard. "m'here, get back to sleep." get back to cuddling me.

"the smell of a pirate who hasn't showered in a week," you joked groggily, rubbing at your eyes. then you froze. shit.

shit!

"no, i fell asleep!" you groaned, burying your face in your hands. how could you? you promised yourself you wouldn't, for him, and now... "fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck... i'm sorry." you peeked back up at him, lower lip stuck out.

zoro frowned. "huh? what the hell you apologising for?"

"i was meant to stay up," you said sadly. "to say happy birthday to you. at midnight. that's why i got nami to change your watch..."

rubbing a hand across his face, zoro sat up to look at you properly, blinking sleep away. you went to the trouble of getting his night watch changed and stayed up in his room just to say happy birthday to him? seriously?

he'd be surprised, but really, that was just the kind of stupid, endearing thing you'd do.

and so he laughed.

you blinked at him as his wide shoulders shook with mirth, head tossed back. an embarrassed warmth crept up your neck and you folded your arms, attempting to glare at him even as you fought to hold down a smile. "wh— it's not funny!"

"nah," he grinned at you as his laughter died down. "it's just cute. c'mere."

you yelped in half-protest as zoro grabbed your head to pull into his chest, laying back down with a sigh.

"you don't hafta... stay up until midnight or do shit like that just for me." he uttered after a moment of quiet, brushing his fingers through your hair. "you need your sleep, and i need mine. so just... just wait until morning next year, yeah?"

"i... okay," you sighed, trailing a finger across his chest, drawing mindless patterns over scarred, tawny skin, making him suppress a shiver. "i still have stuff planned for later, though."

"yeah? let's hear it."

"i'm not ruining the surprise, silly. but... i did get you some presents and convinced sanji to bake you a cake. among other things."

zoro snorted. "bet that shitty cook did it for you more than me."

"probably," you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. "don't get jealous that he might love me more than you, it's okay."

the swordsman scoffed, turning you both on your sides with a grunt. "maybe, but he'll never love you as much as i do."

you chuckled, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; steel and sweat with an earthier undertone somewhere beneath. "i love you too, even though you still smell like you've never showered."

zoro barked out a laugh, tightening a thick arm around your waist to pull you further into him. "i'll take a shower for your birthday, how's that sound?"

you peered up at him and wrinkled your nose. he grinned.

"you're gross," you muttered with a smile even as you snuggled further into him. he kissed your forehead and you could feel his own smile against your skin.

"and you still love me."

"lucky you, huh?"

zoro exhaled softly, closing his eyes. "yeah, lucky me."

slowly, quiet draped itself over the two of you like the softest blanket, comforting and warm as the sounds of your breathing lulled each other to sleep after gentle whispers of goodnight and wishes of good dreams. and he rocked you in his arms, like how the gentle waves rocked you from below, mother nature's cradle for her sleeping children as they rested in an embrace so tightly woven with nothing but pure love not even the sharpest sword could ever hope to sever it.

and that morning, when zoro awoke to his dear lover smothering his face with kisses as they pulled him from his sleep with the promise of birthday gifts, he knew with clarity, such a deep, resounding clarity it made his heart ache—

that you, on this day and every other, were the greatest gift he could ever ask for.

nia's ask box is open!

[gowonminajxx]

— full bed.

a miguel o’ hara fic ~ 1st part here, not required.

— NSFW miguel o’ hara x fem!reader

you are mayday’s babysitter. miguel insists on drinks after mayday falls asleep and is picked up by peter. for a quick summary, it leaves you in his bed.

\\ quick A/N :: thank you guys for so much recognition recently 😭 im very new to fanfic writing, so i wasnt expecting the nice requests + messages i got. thank u as a whole

quick taglist :: @neverlandlostchild - @hachipachiwachi - @antiliqueorbs

// CWs :: extreme smut, biting, blood. p in v. extra shit at the end. just 3 words of fluff tbh,......

// other notes :: i’m latina myself ! although i am not fluent in spanish, so please correct me if anything is wrong 🎀🎀

“ cariño — honey, dear

miumiulicious 2023.

pain.

you were a little sensitive to it, but overall had a better tolerance for it than other people. obviously, mental pain hurt a lot worse than physical, but — why was the current state of physical pain you were in so pleasureful?

you had never found yourself enjoying something so much, allowing a pleasureful feeling to drive someone else wild, like an animal, as they grew based off of your whimpers. your cries, your shaking body, the tingling sharpness on your neck after dominant marks were placed on it. marks of miguel.

his inhumane fangs would dig abnormally deep into your skin, sucking every last bit of energy out of you — including your supper and sweet blood. the little soft grunts he'd add on after, combined with his aggressive, pessimistic words to you, just made you so crazy.

the mixture of both of your need for this kind of sexual intimacy drove you both insane, so psychotic miguel just couldn't get enough of you. his head had immediately lowered down, even if he didn't get enough of your red liquids from your neck.

his breath was hot against your naked folds, sending chills all over you, goosebumps appearing as teased you. his teasing was so soft, yet so dominant.

"so wet, already, huh?" a once furrowed brow raised on his face as he stared into your eyes, irises swiveling and swirling with only one feeling for how this night would go on — lust.

he dominated you by getting on top, your legs being spread out right in front of his crotch. while his thick hands caressed your face as he spoke, you couldn't make out a word he was saying, your ears almost ringing as your vision felt a little hazy. must of been the thirsty blood withdrawal he performed on you.

you shivered a little as he unzipped his pants, swearing that a cold breeze had just passed by in the room while your eyes widened at his cock size. he was so easily hard, precum already seeping as his grin grew at your shock. this would be fun.

without any explanation or communication whatsoever, he slammed his hips against you, chest leaning over yours as his head redirected to the space on the bed beside yours. his arms rested on the blankets while you couldn't rest at all, your body tensing up, shrieking as your walls clenched around his hard length. your arms instantly wrapped around his wide back, clawing into the skin.

no matter if it was start or finish, miguel's cock had kissed your cervix in all the right ways, but it was so rough, screams escaping your already opened lips. his pace quickened, already nearing his climax as you felt his cock get hard inside of you.

he whispered into your ears clearly, your blurred hearing already being forgotten about. with a low grunt mixed with a seductive whisper, he spoke.

"love my huge cock inside of you, huh? hitting you in all the right ways.." he bit his lip, breath hitching in his throat as he quickened his pounds against your clit. his balls slapped against you, creating the loudest claps you've ever heard in your life. your nails dug further into his back, a natural reaction while your body loosened up just a bit.

"scream, just for me, cariño.." he groaned, combining with your muffled expanded moans. the way his cock abused your walls so roughly just felt the best, no matter the pain level.

"m-miguel.. m' gnna'.." you murmured as his hips bucked against yours, cock sending shock waves of fluids mixed with your own screams through out your body before you orgasmed. he didn't seem to take note of the fluids covering his cock, and quickened his thrusts even further, grunting like an animal — almost loudly whimpering like he was desperate for this pretty clit of yours.

the moment absorbed everything, his breath speeding up just like yours, letting out the most boisterous groans of his life, before he finally climaxed in unison with you — your second orgasm while it was his first.

almost as if he knew this would happen, his length pulled out rapidly, his thick white fluids decorating your chest and stomach like a cake decoration. you let out your last moan, panting as you felt your body finally realize its extreme heat. you felt like you were in a pot of lava, and he could relate.

his body collapsed over yours, cock resting vertically on your clit, rubbing against it a little. sighing, he placed a kiss on your neck, licking the previous wounds as if he was still searching for blood. you winced at this, before he kissed you on your cheek. your hands still held tight onto his back, before he laid next to you like a limp stuffed animal.

"fuck.." he cursed lowly, before tensing up as you wrapped your exhausted arms around him. his eyes widened despite yours shutting calmly, cheek pressed against his rib.

you smiled as his arms shortly wrapped around your back, hugging you in close.

(?) extra ::

before you left in the morning, scrambling out of bed and rummaging through the room for your clothes, miguel had scared you.

you were walking to the kitchen, grabbing your keys and phone, looking around to check if anything, or anyone was there. normally you wouldn't expect yourself to leave so calmly after a hookup with someone who paid you to babysit a child, but you did so, no words mentioned to yourself.

when you turned around, miguel had been standing right behind you the whole time, like an eagle. you were frightened at this, yelping as you stepped backwards into the counter, back slamming into it.

"it's just me, y/n." his eyes blinked like a frog, so groggily yet you still stared into his dark brown circles.

"oh." you murmured, before rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly, and without another word he handed a small paper to you.

the paycheck, you thought. what was he even paying me for if he had done all those things with me last night?

you nodded respectfully, not peeping a word as you opened the door to exit his place. you took not even one step foot out of the door before he gripped on your shoulder — a little too tight.

"take it as an appreciation token for last night." he said blankly, not even a wink or a smirk or whatever a pair did after sex. you hesitated to even respond, but instead just nodded like you did before.

he shut the door before waving, a soft smile widening up on his face before the click of the door. you walked out, heading out to travel back to your place, opening up the check steadily.

he had paid you 2x more than your original pay.

a token of appreciation.

A/N :: yayyyy i was so excited to write this for my friends + basically the whole taglist. hope u enjoyed my miguel o'papi writing!!!

[jinkicake]

Needy Touches

You get affected by the gold hellfire newt syrup ((or,,, you get affected by an aphrodisiac kekeke)). 

Barbatos, Lucifer, Mammon x Reader

A/N: this came from a long line of word vomit -hence the double luci mention bc i could not figure out how i wanted to write this-.... i also tried writing a version where the reader eats enchanted pudding but i didnt finish it soooo perhaps ill post that later.... i just desperately needed barbatos smut

WC - 2.2kish

SMUT // NSFW ((reader w a pussy lol))

~~~

Barbatos

“Barbatos,” 

The loyal servant smells you before he sees you. His eyes widen as his entire body flushes with an untamable heat. Why do you smell so sweet? Within his chest, his heart thrashes against the confines of his ribs. The air becomes thick with flavor and Barbatos can barely think under these tense circumstances. 

“Please, I need you,” From where you call just outside his door, Barbatos is quick to invite you inside his room. He slams the wooden door closed before pushing you up against it. His forked tail instantly wraps around both of your ankles and pins you firmly in place. The demon isn’t sure what has affected you like this but he can tell that your hormones must be getting the better of you. 

You’re nearly panting under his touch and he hasn’t even done anything drastic to you yet. 

“It hurts, help me please,” Your begs start to become incoherent as you focus on undressing your lover, you find your way underneath his dress shirt and nearly moan at the feeling of his abdomen under the pads of your fingers. “fuck me-”

Barbatos is a level-headed demon, not much can throw him off track. There is supposedly nothing that can throw him off track. Well, nothing except for you. This shouldn’t, and doesn’t, come as a surprise to him. Of course, a human is the thing to push the obedient demon over the edge. 

He drags you across his room, pushing you until you reach his bed. Barbatos is the first to fall back against the mattress but he quickly pulls you on top of him and into his lap. His sturdy hands rip down your pajama shorts and his finger comes into contact with the thin essence covering your thighs. 

“Use me,” Barbatos orders, he reacts all too quickly as the only thing keeping him from mounting you like an animal is the promise of your cunt on his face. “beloved, please.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice as you move up his body within seconds and don’t hesitate to sit on his face. You don’t have the time to feel embarrassed when your body is burning up inside. 

“Oh!” You squeak as his tongue quickly runs up and down your slit before wiggling into your entrance. Barbatos has a monster of a tongue and he makes use of it to fuck you. He’s trying with his entire being to get as much of your taste on his tongue as he possibly can. His mind is torn between giving you your pleasure and hogging it all for himself. 

Your cunt tightly squeezes around his muscle while your hips rut against his face, perfectly aligning your clit with his nose to get just the right friction. It’s all so messy and sloppy, nothing like what you’re usually used to with Barbatos. But, you can’t get enough of it. His fingers dig into your thighs to help you move against his face, back and forth until you’re squirming and aching all over him. 

He’s determined to see you spent tonight, utterly used with nothing left to give. Barbatos is a greedy demon and he burns with intense pleasure to see you satisfied. 

Lucifer

“You drank the hellfire wine, didn’t you?” Lucifer glares down at your trembling form and his intimidating stance almost makes you start to drool. There is nothing more attractive right now than Lucifer with his large arms crossed over his thick chest. Your thighs press together painfully at the sight. 

The older demon sighs, he can smell your arousal leaking out of you in buckets. It’s affecting him terribly but by some miracle, he has been able to hold it together. 

“I informed you beforehand what that syrup does to humans, must you ignore every warning I provide you?” Lucifer grunts at the headache taking the forefront of his brain, he can’t focus with your scent hanging heavily in the air. All too quickly he comes aware of just how sweet you smell. Despite the lecture on his lips, he gets distracted by the thick tears pooling in your eyes.

The sight nearly causes the old man to coo. 

“My dearest love, you just want to be fucked, don’t you?” He murmurs as he takes you in his arms, his hands grab ahold of your biceps and pull you into his chest. “How badly do you need me?” In this moment of desire, Lucifer needs to hear how you ache for him. His poor, sweet human. 

“So badly, Luci,” You moan the nickname and claw at his abdomen, desperately trying to get rid of the clothes still adorning his body. “fuck me, please.” Begging becomes second nature as you plead and plea with all your might. You might end up succumbing to your knees as you focus all your energy on praying for this one thing. 

Lucifer’s pretty patience snaps at your devotion. 

He can’t decide between fucking you exactly how you need or letting you take what you need.

“Will you ride me until you’re satisfied or do you wish for me to fuck you until you can no longer speak?” His fingers squeeze your hips almost painfully, forcing your hips to grind against his own. Your head falls back with a moan and Lucifer wets his lips at the sight of your bare neck on display. 

“I need you to fuck me, Lucifer.” You plead and before you know it, he has you bent over his table. 

Lucifer makes quick work of finding a pace that satisfies your desires. He thrusts in and out of your tight cunt quickly, but it only makes the burning fire inside of you even hotter. His grunts and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other have you gasping out for air. You pathetically try to meet his thrusts but are unable to keep up with his fierce pace. 

Within the handful of minutes Lucifer has been fucking you, you’ve already convulsed around his cock twice. Your body keeps making work of searching for pleasure, and it seems that with each orgasm your desire for Lucifer only becomes stronger. In the back of your mind, you can hear exactly what you need, you yearn for Lucifer to find his release. You cum again to the mouthwatering idea of the demon finishing inside of you and then licking it out. You need it and you’re determined to get it. 

“Lucifer, cum in me,”

Mammon

Mammon isn’t really sure how his night got like this, you in his lap mewling and begging for his attention. But, he isn’t necessarily complaining about the situation either.

“Hey! Watch where you’re touching!” He squeaks as your wandering hands travel lower and lower across his abdomen, no doubt in search of his belt. “What is up with you today?” Mammon swallows deeply as he takes a closer look at you, there is an intense heat radiating off your body as you practically shake in his lap. The demon would be a fool not to see the flush dusting across your face that spreads to the tips of your ears. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

Concern takes over him as he tightly grabs your shoulders and forces you to face him. He’s your first after all, your wellbeing means more to him than any other demon in Devildom. Mammon nearly kicks himself for not taking note of your current state earlier. In the midst of his mental scolding, you moan at his strong touch. It’s quiet and barely slips past your lips but’s more than enough to catch on Mammon’s ears. 

His entire body twitches with need at the sound. A primal need to take care of his human, to satisfy his human, to please his human. 

Mammon’s mouth runs dry as he looks you over again. This time he notices how you’re subtly grinding on his thigh, he feels the damp patch growing against his thick pants. He’s hard in an instant. 

“You’re-” He pauses, swallowing shortly to rethink his words. “you’re leaking?” You momentarily freeze at this and the demon cringes at himself so hard that his entire body falls back against his sofa. 

Thank god, you’re too far gone in your own pleasure to care.

“Mammon, help me, it burns-” Your cries fill his concerns up sky high and the demon has half a mind to go and grab his older brother because Mammon knows nothing about the human body. The second born hates to see you in pain and harming you even more is the last thing he would ever want. “stop thinking and fuck me!”

“Huh?” Mammon stops in his panic and freezes all over, he doesn’t move an inch as you throw his belt across the room and yank his pants down his muscular thighs. He lets you take what you need, watches with an intense desire as you flip your skirt up and grab ahold of his excited cock. 

The demon ends up moaning louder than you once you start to fuck him, bouncing in his lap to satisfy your own needs. Nothing about this is for Mammon and the demon loves it. 

“More, yeah like that,” His hips squirm under your touch, bucking up to meet your own pace while you dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“This is about me, Mammon,” You breathe into his ear, whimpering at the feeling of his hands migrating down to your ass. The demon finally gets an ounce of control as he helps you bounce in his lap, angling his cock inside of your tight cunt to make you see stars. “you’re here to help me.”

The secondborn wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lucifer (the original thing i wrote for him hehehe,, i didnt think it was smutty enough so i rewrote it -and honestly, i just might write an entire thing for this because lucifer is so hot-)

“What is wrong with you?” Lucifer bites as he glares down at your trembling form. Had this been any other occasion Lucifer would have taken you to the closest private space available to fuck your brains out but, he isn’t blessed with that luck today. The demon castle is currently filled with far too many people and it would be near impossible to sneak away. He can’t understand why you’re acting this way. You’re practically trying to jump him amongst all these demons. 

Lucifer narrows his eyes at you before taking a subtle whiff of your scent and just the slight inhale causes his entire body to stiffen as he instantly feels all the blood in his body rush into his boxers. How on earth did he not notice it before?

“You need to be fucked, don’t you?” He coos into your ear as he tightly wraps his large hand around your wrist. Lucifer drags you out of the ballroom, ignoring every person who tries to stop him. He brings you to an empty hallway before ushering you roughly into an old abandoned room filled with trinkets that haven’t been touched in centuries. You’re not too focused on anything other than the demon in front of you. “Let me guess, you drank the hellfire wine, didn’t you?”

You nod eagerly and try to ignore your guilty conscious, ignore how you messed up the evening. 

“Dearest, you know what that does to humans. I warned you beforehand.” He starts a lecture, one that you know could go on for hours but you don’t have the hours to wait, not when you’re working up a sweat and your thighs have begun to tremble. There’s a wet heat aching between your thighs and you only become more and more uncomfortable as time goes on. 

“I didn’t know what it looked like!” Your eyes pathetically fill up with thick tears and Lucifer nearly awes at the sight. It seems he’s being too hard on you. 

“Calm down, my pet.” He quietly murmurs against your forehead as he steps closer to you, placing either of his hands on your biceps. “You just want to cum, don’t you? You need release so badly, poor thing,” From his words alone, you swear you could cum. All over again your body starts to tremble. “I’ve got you, human, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” 

When Lucifer promises something, he always delivers. 

His clothes are discarded in seconds and you’re sure you zoned out all the way until he pulled you into his lap and lined his cock up with your entrance. You don’t remember your own clothes coming off or how he got to sucking on your breasts so earnestly. All you can focus on is his hard cock now fully inside of you. Your movements are messy and rushed, you take full control as Lucifer leans back in the leather chair. 

You’re bouncing thoughtfully in his lap, loudly mewling and moaning at how full you feel. The entire time since you got your hands on that wine, you’ve been on edge. Lucifer can bring you bliss within seconds but you know that tonight, it won’t be enough. You’ll have to use him the whole night until you’re both utterly spent, until you’re forced to be peeled off of his cock.

Anticipation grows in Lucifer’s stomach with a smile on his lips to match, oh he’s looking forward to this. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hide

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: You can't hide anything from your mothers

Your hood stayed up as you limped home. The stones on the pavement made your socked feet ache but you gritted your teeth and continued on.

You glanced down the street and hurried on. You couldn't spy either of your parents' cars parked so you slipped inside without a care in the world.

In your rush, you had completely forgotten that both of the cars were at the mechanics so both of your mums were definitely home - especially since their training had finished hours ago.

It was totally wishful thinking to believe that they would have stayed out for team bonding or something.

You almost groaned and slammed your head into the hallway wall when you heard the low hum of chatter from the tv and the sizzling of food in a pan.

"y/n?" Pernille called when she heard the front door shut," Is that you?"

"Er...yeah!" You chuckled awkwardly," I'm...I'm just taking off my shoes." You stared at your shoeless feet. You were silent for a moment, keeping up the charade before you made a break for the stairs.

You nearly got there too, nearly got to safety upstairs but then there was a hand on your backpack and you were slowed to a halt.

"You're home a bit late," Magda said, still holding onto your backpack.

"Yeah, I stayed behind to work in the library," You lied," I must have forgotten to text you."

Magda sighed. "Don't let it happen again."

"I won't."

She still didn't let go of your backpack.

"Ma," You said," I should go and put my stuff away."

You could hear her impatient foot tapping and your throat bobbed in worry.

Your mothers had adopted you nearly two years ago now, a girl that they had met while in Denmark during the offseason. They had bonded with you instantly and soon you had made the move with them to London.

So, you knew them both well enough to know when they were getting a little ticked off at you.

"You know the rules," Magda said," Hoods and hats off in my house."

You tugged your hood down but didn't turn around.

"Better," Magda said," But what about my hug? I don't want you escaping upstairs for the rest of the evening before my hug."

You cursed your past self for creating the routine of giving your Ma a hug when you got home from school. Hugging her now would require you to turn around. You just needed a moment to put on some concealer.

"I won't disappear. Let me just put my stuff away."

Before Magda could decide, Pernille spoke up. Her voice took a dangerously hard edge yet still softened enough to remain nice - like she was about to soothe a wild animal. "y/n...can you turn around for me?"

You tried to laugh it off. "I've had a long day. Let me just put my stuff in my room."

"y/n, I need you to turn around," Pernille insisted.

"Mum-"

"y/n."

Tears sprung to your eyes.

"Please don't make me."

Gentle hands moved from your backpack to your shoulders and Magda turned you around.

Both she and Pernille looked horrified at what they saw.

You knew what they were looking at. Your left eye was bruised and swelled almost shut. The corner of your mouth had a dribble of blood rolling down it. Your nose was slightly off-centre.

Pernille made a keening noise that broke you instantly.

You burst into tears and buried yourself in her waiting arms. Magda joined you in the hug too, pressing her front against your back so you were sandwiched tightly between your mothers.

"I was just...I was just leaving, I promise, Mum. I promise. I didn't do anything but they jumped me." Tears flooded your cheeks and once you started speaking, you couldn't stop. "They took my shoes, Ma. They took my shoes."

You wiggled your toes.

Pernille guided you to the sofa, sitting on the ottoman in front of you. Her hands ghosted over your cheeks, not willing to touch you in case it hurt you further. "Who jumped you, y/n? Who hurt you?"

"Some people in my maths class," You blabbered," They don't really like me. They make fun of me having you and Ma and my accent and...and...and..."

"Shh, shh, it's okay, y/n. It's okay. We're going to make this all better. It's all going to be okay."

Your Ma was a few feet away, close enough that she could hover over you but far enough away that her anger couldn't scare you away. Magda got angry quiet, her rage simmering just below the surface. "Hello," She said into her phone," I need to speak to the headmaster. It's on behalf of my daughter...Yes...It's extremely important. Yes, I'll hold."

When she looked back at you, you were sat in Pernille's lap, looking a lot smaller and younger than you actually were. You were sobbing and she could see that Pernille looked halfway to tears away.

You looked pathetically young in your school uniform, your favourite hoodie tucked under your blazer and your socks having holes in them from when you walked from school to home without any shoes.

Magda paced the length of the room, her phone still pressed against her ear, on-hold music ringing through it.

Pernille whispered things into your ear, a hand coming up to brush through your hair. "Is your nose okay?"

"It's not broken," You replied. Your sobs had diminished to silence although tears still rolled down your face. You were content to sit there in your Mum's arms forever. "But it still hurts."

A hand was thrust into your view. "For your eye," Your Ma said as she helped to press the cold compress to your swollen eye," It'll help."

"All the doctor's will be closed by now," Mum said," Is it bad enough that you need to go to the hospital?"

"I don't need the doctor," You said," I just want my shoes back."

"We can get you new shoes, y/n/n."

That just caused more tears to drop down your face. "You can't. They were special. They were the shoes I wore to the adoption ceremony. Mum, they're special." You blew out a noisy breath. "And they took them from me."

Ma came to crouch in front of you, her phone still pressed to her ear. "What are their names? Tell me their names?"

You rattled them off without even stopping to think - first and last name and what form group they were in. Ma pressed a kiss to your temple before her eyes lit up with malice as she spoke into her phone.

"Yes, is this the headmaster? I would like to report-"

Her voice faded away as she headed to the kitchen and you curled up more incessantly into your Mum's side, wishing nothing more than to just merge with her very being so she could keep you safe and protected within her.

But you couldn't so you settled with getting as close as possible.

You remained tucked under her chin as she held the cold compress Ma had given you. Your eye and nose ached as did your jaw. You looked down at your toes. You wiggled them.

Ma appeared in front of you, taking a seat on the ottoman. She took your hands.

"Those little-" She said several words in Swedish that you didn't quite recognise but got the gist of," -Were still in the school, the little idiots. Your shoes have been recovered and those punks have been expelled - effective immediately."

"They're lucky we're not pressing charges," Pernille said through gritted teeth.

"I'll go and pick your shoes up tomorrow morning," Magda continued, taking your hands and laying kisses across your knuckles.

"I can get them, Ma," You said," Just tell them to leave them at reception."

"You're not going back, y/n," Pernille said from behind you," Not to that school. Not ever again."

You glanced between your parents in confusion. "When...You two didn't have time to discuss it with each other."

"We don't need to discuss anything when we're on the same page," Pernille replied," We talked about it when we adopted you, that if you ever came home from school injured then we'd pull you out immediately."

"There's a lovely online program we can sign you up for. No bullies, no one beating you up or making fun of you for having two mums or an accent. You can work at your own pace and you won't have anyone telling you to hurry up."

"Really?" Your voice sounded so pathetic in your own ears that you nearly started crying again.

"Really," Your Mum confirmed, pulling you tight against her," But not for another few weeks."

"We'll get you all sorted once you're feeling better."

Your Ma joined you on the sofa, curling up into your Mum's side and holding your hand, fingers rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles.

[yenqa]

ADVANTAGES

in which…

on jay’s live, fans point out a stuffed animal on his bed, one that seems to be the other piece to your notorious missing pair. as imaginary pieces start to connect for fans, the viewers beg for some kind of interaction. and though you and jay have never met before, why not use this situation to your advantage?

warnings : crying, panic attacks, depression is depicted but isnt really said, lots of bad self talk, food/eating, having no appetite, just lots of bad mental health talk and depictions, hurt/comfort, god this chapter is PACKED

wc: 1829

i’m sorry that i couldnt be your teenage dream.

not proofread!

☆

It had been a week and a half since you had seen anyone.

Well other than the cashiers at the local grocery store but that made you look even more pathetic. 

You haven’t been well, at all.

It was a horrible sight, honestly you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror without cringy. You had no productivity and had planned to do nothing for as long as possible. 

You were surprised your body hasn't exploded yet, since all you had ate was instant ramen or the three meals you could cook total. 

Today was one of the worse-r days. Three hours into the new day but your mind couldn’t seem to sleep one bit.

You had zero appetite, your room was a mess, it was worse that you couldn’t even sleep away the days even though you were so tired. Your eyes were glued shut at night but your body couldn’t stop fighting the feeling of sleep. 

So here you were, eye bags almost able to give the color purple a run for its money, and so puffy it felt like a balloon was stuck in there. But your eyes hadn’t shed any tears, instead you felt like nothing. Like you were just floating around with no purpose or any feeling at all.

The empty feeling in your head made you unable to do anything but scroll on your phone, letting hours after hours pass by rewatching your favorite show at least a billion times. It seemed like the world had gone gray, like the world was ending and you were the only one feeling it.

A part of you screamed at yourself to get a grip, to stop being so dramatic and realize there are still good things in life. 

You tried to get better, you really did. You had researched on how to get over this drought but you never could. So every night you would lay in your bed, trying to figure out what was wrong with you.

Mornings have always been your least favorite part of the day. But it seemed to get worse with every second that passed. 

Realizing you still had a whole day ahead of you seemed utterly impossible to finish, but still you would reach your hand out to the finish line, only to miss every time.

You had six hours until it was the appropriate time to wake up. You couldn’t call anyone for help, you couldn’t text anyone in the middle of the night. It was your burden, so you had to keep it to yourself and hope and pray it washes away over time.

Your phone has been your only sense of livelihood during your dull days. If you had been wasting hours after hours at least you had been doing something. 

Before you could think of the consequences, you had thought of searching yourself on the internet, just for fun. You clicked on the first source, hoping that someone would see your side of the story.

No it was not fun–you wish you could warn yourself because the title of the article read; “All you need to know about Y/niora and why she’s trending”

We’ve all seen the names “Y/n” or “Y/niora” trending on X, who is she? Some might wonder. In this article I’ll be going over everything she’s done wrong, and why fans hate her for it.

Y/n is a popular streamer on twitch, known for her funny commentary and her boyfriend Jay, but recently she’s shown a darker side to her.

Her boyfriend, Jay, is also a twitch streamer, a much more popular one at that. He’s known for his good looks and his random reactions that have us crying with laughter, but why would he date a nobody like her? 

If you’ve seen Y/niora’s X account, you can see that she posts provocative photos of herself, things that only lead to temptations of male fans. Fans speculate this is the reason they met, saying that she seduced him and used him for money, fame, and views.

If you know anything about streaming, you know BlueJay and his friends. Who stole the internet's hearts with their looks and cute personalities. But things start picking up between Jay and Y/n when she posts their matching stuffed animals, officially presenting their relationship to the world.

This seems to be a bad move on Y/n’s part, as her facade starts slipping through and we get to see her for the calloused person she is. 

She continuously shows her disinterest in anything he’s saying. Making him repeat everything he’s said to her. This strikes up the question, does she really care about him or her fans?

Arguments of this exact topic have been trending among fans, some saying

You closed your phone before you could read anything else. Flipping your body over you could feel tears start to form in your eyes, your vision goes blurry and your breath starts hiccuping. 

Wiping your wet cheeks, you start to panic when you feel like your throat is closing up, placing your hand on your chest to try to calm yourself down. 

That clearly doesn’t work. As you swear you can feel the walls closing in beside you. In a last effort to stop your ugly sobs, you open your phone once more, your breath quickens when you open the phone app, calling the person that you need the most right now.

The ringing on your phone shakes you more, “Please answer, please answer, please answer.” You croak out desperately, glancing at your window to realize it’s the middle of the night, and he’s probably getting the nice sleep he deserves. 

Unlike you who only makes things worse, and can’t even get a wink of sleep at night.

You sob harder after the fifth ring, realizing that he’s not going to answer. And you have to do this on your own–

“Y/n? Are you okay?” His voice brings relief to your ears, that’s until you realize the state you’re in. 

“Jay I’m so–so so sorry for calling you this late.” You rasp out, “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me, I can’t stop shaking and crying, I just–fuck” Bringing your hand up, you grab a fist of your hair, not knowing what to do or say.

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You choke through, words barely coherent.

“I’m coming. Stay there, okay?”

“Okay.” 

His tone is so soft it scares you. How could he be talking to you so sweetly knowing the mess you made? How could he be talking to you so sweetly knowing that you are burdening him at such a late hour?

Your throat tries its best to keep your hammering heart inside your chest, but it closes up, your breath is so uneven you're not even sure you’re breathing at all. 

That is until you let out a soft apology into your phone, but it’s covered by your staggered breathing, and the sound of you stuffing up your snot back into your nose.

The silence coming from him is apparently meant to drive you insane. Because the nausea of it all starts to get to you, your condition is crippling so you can’t even move from your curled up position on your bed.

You can hear your door slam open, eliciting a strong flinch from you. 

Your heart seems to be racing too fast for your liking, almost like it’s fighting to get out of your chest. “Jay?” You mutter, as you can see his dark silhouette standing through the doorway. 

Before you can actually decipher if the man is actually Jay or just some random burglar who found your spare key, you feel his arms wrap around your body, tucking your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. 

You conclude that it’s Jay’s warmth you’re feeling right now.

For a second you feel safe, for a second you feel like he’s just hugging you, not because you are literally having a panic attack. 

That snaps you back into reality. God were you really having a panic attack over an article? That you chose to read? 

Feeling your chest tighten and your eyes water up, you tuck your head impossibly deeper, letting your tears and snot get all over his shirt. 

It’s grossing you out how you can physically feel his shirt dampen with your tears, but you’re too focused on figuring out how to breathe rather than the mess you made on his shirt.

“You can let it out, or you can just cry, I don’t mind.”

You sob even harder than you were before.

He’s so warm. He’s so warm. And you have no idea why it’s the perfect descriptor for him. 

“Jay,” You mutter, being muffled by his shoulder, “I’ve ruined everything.”

His arm rubs your back gently, “You haven’t ruined anything, pretty.” He whispers, talking like if he speaks any louder you’ll crack into hundreds of pieces (you actually might but that’s not the point).

“I have! You can’t even deny it without lying,” You hiccup, “I mean—I’m trying so hard, but I can’t do anything right.” You pull your head back to look up at him.

He stays silent, letting his hand cup your face, wiping away any tears that fall down.

“And I’m so tired. I’m so tired of doing everything I can but still being hated for not doing enough. I mean who wouldn’t? I can’t even cook a proper meal, it just goes to show how hopeless I am.”

“Y/n you can’t possibly think about yourself.”

“I can because it’s the truth.”

He tucks your head back into his shoulder, “Y/n, not being able to cook a proper meal is okay. Some people never learn how to cook an egg.”

Your breathing calms down slightly, you let out a small chuckle, trying to stay forever in his warmth.

“I’m sorry for calling you here so late, I know you’re tired from streaming or something.”

“I could never stay away from you for too long, even if it’s in the middle of the night.”

Letting out a breathy smile, you look back at his face, a small smile spreads through his face looking at you.

Your eyes were tired, for the first time in a week your body was tired. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you, Jay, seriously.”

He gets up from your position, you feel the absence of his warmth even though he just got up, he’s about to walk out the door when you build up the courage to ask, “Can you stay? Just for tonight?”

Looking back, there's a smile on his face as he replies “Always.”

Walking back to you, he lays himself under your blanket, tucking you in before wrapping his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest.

And for the first time in what felt like forever. You fall asleep, in Jay’s arms.

☆

back masterlist next

yenqa > um title is reference to teenage dream by olivia rodrigo! umm hope u enjoyed while i ripped my heart out and put it in my writing… thanks!

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yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[fictioonbanger]

reader in denial a bit with bestie eren!

eren x black reader

sub eren hinted a bit, alcohol usage, rough sex, facd fucking, smut, profanity.

thinking about how you and eren fuck almost every night, and i mean every night when eren finally realizes you need him as much as he needs you. but you both dont have a title yet, now dont get eren wrong. he would love a title, he wants to call you his, and for you to do the same. you just don’t know how to take it, your bestfriend of childhood being your boyfriend. it was always what you wanted, but how would it seem to others around you both when you denied multiple times already. no one to blame but yourself for digging it deeper and now being a little werry of wanting to admit your feeling for eren.

eren doesnt let you both not having a title keep you away from each other. he loved you, that was a fact and obvious. on the other hand you might say no if someone were to ask if you and eren were dating. eren on the other hand tells the full honest truth.

“nah we not together, but she still mine as i am of hers.” eren spoke sipping his cup of alcohol at the bar him and his friends were at

“so she has you under a leash?” jean chuckled taking his last of alcohol fully and tilting his head back.

eren mean mugged him and spoke up glaring at his snarky comment. “no, she doesnt.. and if she did it wouldnt be too bad.” eren shrugged and his friends laughed he rolled his eyes and looked away. day dreaming about you and how he’d kill to be with you right now.

and thats exactly what he did, except of the killing part. he grabbed his keys off the stand and began getting off the stool. “where ya goin?” armin tilted his head to look at eren from over jean. “hes gonna see his little owner.” jean chuckled to himself at his own joke causing both them to roll their eyes. “its better than being with shitface over here.” eren stood and started to walk towards the door, jean scoffed rolling his eyes and ordering another drink.

you were in your room of your pretty decorated apartment, pink picture frames, gray marbled counters, stuffed animals on your couch and little lights everywhere was how you’d describe your apartment. eren, would say different “ ‘ts too pink, make my eyes hurt baby.” hed mock you and cover his eyes as you rolled yours, the “baby” word going completely over your head. it wasnt out of the blue for eren to call you petnames, i mean you’ve asked him before and all his response is. “what? you dont like them pretty?” of course you’re gonna say you do, thats how you felt and honestly hoped he didnt stop.

you were watching a movie on your laptop snacking on whatever was in the kitchen, getting distracted by a message at 11:12pm. you really knew who it was though, eren comes at this time. not everyday of course but only when hes been out or busy.

eren <3; im at the door ma

you; mhm here i come.

rolling out of bed and straddling through your living room and towards the front door you began unlocking it. finishing then opening the door to see erens slim figure in the doorway. he had already a cracked smile on his face, he couldnt wait to see you. its been awhile and it was his fault, he knew hed have to make up for it. he thought you’d greet him with a hug and a peck on the cheek, the usual. instead you stared at him for a bit before turning around and letting him. not saying a word eren sighed and closed the door locking it then began to walk behind you. he slid his hands on each side of ur waist and put his head on your shoulder from behind. “cmon y/n, im sorry you havent seen me in awhile..i havent been ghosting you honest.” he spoke softly in your ear, he sounded so sincere and pretty upset he hadnt seen you either. “been real busy..you know id rather be here.” he said as you stood in place as he rocked you both softly side to side as he held onto you.

“doesnt matter to me..not like we’re together right?” you looked away to the side, you knew your words were bad. and that they wouldnt effect eren, he listens to all your fits and upsets. doesnt bother him a bit, only about the situation that made you feel that way in the first place. other than that he knows how to get you out that state. “dont be so mean y/n.. you hurtin my feelings.” he said sarcastically removing away from you and fake grabbing his heart. “im serious eren-“ “how about we change that then?” you were shocked at his words, eyes widening and you quickly turning to look at him. “what?” you spoke softly eyes glistening a bit and gazed upon erens face. “can we please change it..” eren spoke up then got onto his knees infront of you, holding onto your legs with both hands. he put his face by your stomach and inhaled your scent he loved so much. “i really want you y/n.. want you to be mine.” he mumbled looking up at you. you were hot in the face, feeling your blood rise up to your cheeks. “i-i want you too ren..” you spoke softer, gazing down at how he held onto you.

and this just made eren so much bolder, your emotion changing quickly at how swift he moved to leaning over you. he held your waist again and peered into your orbs with his green ones, a snarky smile on his face. “you do?” he questioned tilting his head down at you reaching close to your face. your lips barely touching as you breathed in each others air. “badly.” you breathed out, thats all eren needed to hear before sweeping you off your feet. carrying you with both hands on your ass supporting your legs wrapped around him. walking you both towards your opened bedroom noses touching as eren goes in for a kiss. you took in his tongue and slipped past your own, moaning into it and squeezing around eren. he chuckled and laid you onto the bed, he was leaning over your body. humping his hard crotch into your clothed cunt in missionary. he groaned staring at just how your face looks when he makes you feel good.

eren didnt hold back the whole night, putting you in positions you didnt know you were capable of. he fucked you into a babbling mess under him. “ ‘s too much!! cant take i-it ren!” you squealed out as he pushed deeper hitting the spot he hit earlier making you yet orgasm again. your eyed rolled in the back of your head as you released onto him, cum dripping down and sliding his shaft wetting his balls. eren saw this and looked up to were your mouth was open. he smirked and quickly grabbed a fist full of your braids making you do a soft yelp that moved into a low moan. “how bout you clean your mess up hm?” with a handful he moved you up and towards his leaking dick with his precum standing pearly off the tip and your cum that covered it. you willingly took him fully into your mouth without another word, you let him into your throat and placed soft kisses on his tip. feeling your throat once eren couldnt get enough and forced your head onto him more, now guiding you. you loved when eren was like this, when he was in control. he liked when youd do it to, but pleasuring you more was his ideal choice. you licked him up and jerked him off while doing it making erens toes curl. he tried to move away at a point but was stopped by a hard hand on his thigh that kept him down. “m-m gonna fuckin cum..” he seethed out through his teeth as his hips started to move on his own fucking your face as you kinda took control. he was eager to nut and his hips had a mind of their own chasing his high. you took him fully one last time in your throat as erens hips buckled. he grabbed ahold of your head pushing it down one last time as he came into your mouth. moaning a loud mess and breathing ever so heavily, he caressed your cheek hand leaving your head, wiping away the tears that poured while he face fucked you.

“this means you’re mine now yeah?” eren thumb was still wiping under your eye, tilting his head he slowly moved it to your plumped lips parting them and making way for his thumb. you took it into your mouth and gave it a soft suck as you kissed it after

“mm yeah.” was your response, and it couldnt have made eren happier hearing this. causing you both to go into your 7th round? counting yes.

[darkdemeter]

HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE’S WILL

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN #1 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — Finished it nice and quickly, I was a bit unsure about this piece and was probably gonna scrap it before I posted the teaser. I was surprised to see how many people liked the teaser alone, and the taglist life chose me! Didn’t think that would happen so soon sooo that’s pretty cool, so if you wanna join that then let me know! I’m looking at potentially doing some more werewolf reader soon, with a piece (or multiple pieces, idk yet) called ‘The Convict Wolf’. Again I’m not the best at fluff so there is quite a bit of angst in there too as well as some humour. I think this turned more into a slight! Wanda x reader than an actual Wanda x reader. So… sorry bout that. Usage of Y/N as well.

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

— NEXT COLUMN

READER DISCRETION — angst (reader has insecurities/self esteem issues) — Tony being a bit of a dick — some minor language — some weird fluffy humour? — mentions of a “passed relative” in said humour — minor name calling and usage (“mutt and stray/pup”) — and I think that’s it?

Mother Nature decrees that her law is absolute. Her will is to be respected, and all are intended to follow in her great design.

You do not change it. You embrace it.

And this applies to you as well, thanks to your common ancestor, that you shared the habit that left you tracking the red ball Tony kept bouncing against the polished floors like it’s the only thing in existence that mattered to you. And maybe because it did.

How could this happen? No high risk missions or deadly villains to stop from achieving world domination. No, today was one of those special days where you and your fellow Avengers could relax. And with the full moon so close, what better combination?

What you wouldn’t give to suddenly be on a quinjet flying into enemy territory. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping.

For everyone’s sake, you tried to keep to yourself for the past week but you’d exhausted your options. Walks in the park weren’t cutting it - not to mention the other dogs started it first - and you’d already destroyed five punching bags in the gym just prior. The treadmill be damned, you weren’t burning any energy on that.

Your last resort was to sit in the common area with your favoured beverage, a cool rag and some TV to calm the intense wave of anxiety. However, by her divine intervention, your beloved crew had come to flock in.

Mother Nature knew you were a pack animal at heart, as both human and wolf. It was how she made you.

The ensuing anxiety of being in a crowded space enough to put you near over the edge. It’s not like your heart rate only picked up a few hundred beats more when Wanda walked in.

When a few of the new arrivals waved and greeted you, you shared a hesitant yet trying smile and equally reluctant nod in return.

The battlefield was the only place you felt comfortable around your new comrades. But without missions or villains you were still getting accustomed to life at the compound; adjusting to life around people.

You were still considered fresh. A new recruit to the team. As Tony liked to call you… a pup.

Fuck, how you’d bite back your snarls from that term.

Fury assigned you to the Avengers some months ago. And though you had no intention of staying long, the missions kept coming in and a lot more required your specific skill set.

You remember as though it was yesterday that Tony said, “Alright Fury, we’ll adopt the stray pup. Just don’t go ripping up the furniture now.”

Suffice to say, you broke your own record at doing just that in under 3 hours.

“I think they’ll settle in just fine,” Fury had chuckled with a clap to the billionaire’s shoulder.

You shake your head at the memory. Still, if felt wrong to feel certain things for one of your teammates already. It wasn’t like you felt you really had a chance with her anyway.

The thought made your eyes falter from the now still ball for a moment, clutched in Tony’s hand as if it were your heart.

‘Who am I kidding?’ You chuffed silently to yourself, ‘She wouldn’t take a chance on me, I’m a damn mutt!’

Your self esteem issues had to wait though.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

‘Ball.’

‘Ball.’

‘Ball.’

Your entire head at this point tracked the ball’s movement, but your mind was still distracted by Wanda. The idea of her wanting to play ball with you, to spend those moments of intimacy with you. Tony’s words zeroed in from a muffled backdrop to the forefront of your mind.

“And that is why red indeed travels at a superior speed to any other. Ergo, why my suit is red, brilliant, eye catching and can beat anyone.”

You could hear the collective groans and disguised snarks beneath coughs without the noise being present. It was in everyone’s eyes and their scents.

Your eyes froze on Wanda, her striking eyes bore into yours with no hesitation. No fear.

‘How long has she been doing that?’

She offered one of her smiles that made your heart swell and stop at the same time, that made your searing skin cool and rise with goosebumps.

‘She’s so beautiful when she smiles like that.’

If she had one of those smiles then… you knew that grin that spread across her lips and showed a thin line of her teeth.

Your eyes gave away the betraying thought that you knew. Her smile turned grin riddled with mischief spoke volumes.

‘She read my damn mind!’

“I don’t think that is actually possible, Tony,” Sharon said with a click of her tongue and a disbelieving squint to her eyes.

“Oh no, it is,” Tony replied with a nod, “I’ll show you how the colour of this ball determines the speed in which it returns to my hand.”

He held up the ball in his hand, a proud display of its immaculate accomplishment, just a throw away.

Shit.

You bite down on your lip hard to suppress the whine coiled deep in your throat. A deep heat settled all along your neck and your ears.

Wanda still stared at you even in your peripheral.

Tony flicked his hand forward and the ball flew forward, bouncing once against the floor and bound into the wall with a determined thump before Tony caught it again, mouth agape to huff in his triumphant display in tandem with a curt yelp.

A good throw. Bad timing.

Everyone’s eyes had diverted to you. Their attention captured by the sound you made. Even Bucky, the stoic and reserved man who hardly acknowledged anyone with anything other than a grunt, appeared surprised if not the slightest bit intrigued by this new discovery.

You didn’t dare risk a second glimpse at Wanda, the flush in your neck seeped higher up into your face. Not that the shock and interest on everyone else’s faces were easier to process.

But you couldn’t face Wanda’s eyes now.

She had read the racing thoughts you couldn’t keep in line. Who knows how much she read about how alluring you think her scent is, how you whine and whimper whenever you hear her softly cry when in the privacy of her room because you wish to be there with her, her hand running through your fur to comfort herself; to let her know you’re there for her. How much it hurts you that she would never see you as nothing more than the mutt of the team. A beast that maims and runs rampart whenever you lose yourself to anger.

A lovesick pup.

You feared that the hot sting of tears was sure to follow any moment now.

Your fingers tightened against your legs, nails not longer the tamed length you maintained them as. In their stead were claws.

“Something wrong, pup?” Tony teased and you didn’t refrain from the rasped snarl that rose in your chest. Your teeth - and fangs - bared.

Fuck. Why did Mother Nature have to make you the way you are?

“Tony,” Sam warned, eyes cast between the two of you.

“What?” Tony only shrugged as if he wasn’t intentionally pissing you off and embarrassing you at the same time. “I just wanna make sure our new recruit here is alright, I mean, they have been temperamental over the past week. Chewing on expensive furniture and specially crafted improvements to my suit—“

The ball flew from Tony’s hand just as he was about to make a show of the ball again, the unmistakable red, misty tendrils swiftly brought it to Wanda’s hand.

Everyone was silent as they glanced between the red ball in Wanda’s hand and you. Their combining scents overwhelmed you to a new height. The fear that pinned you in place made the skin along your arms radiate with heat, either from the desire to run with your tail between your legs or to get defensive; to ‘wolf out’ as the others had called it. It didn’t help when Thor made an attempt to say something but otherwise thought better not to say what was on his mind.

Wanda eyed the object that held your attention. And you in turn couldn’t help but study her. Something in the way her eyes twinkled with curiosity, her lips pulled to one side as if to contemplate heavily on the fact that this ball held you in a vice grip.

Your short temper as of late, how you’d skulk around, much to the dismay of everyone fearing you had turned into another Bucky. The guy wasn’t that bad, you’d give him credit for that, the guy had a lot on his plate.

But what Wanda was perhaps most interested by that whenever she was present in the same room as you, all that would vanish. At least for the most part.

But to her, you would ask her how she was doing or even compliment her. Little did she possibly know that it was because you had felt a little courageous to take that small leap of faith to tell her she looked good.

But she might as well have that knowledge now.

You weren’t sure if it bothered you or not that she read your mind. Invaded your thoughts. In some weird way, you wanted her to. But you also feared her rejection.

But in the end, it all made sense. No one else pieced it together but her. And this time, she didn’t have to read your mind to do it.

She could read you. She knew you.

“It’s the full moon tomorrow night. They’re anxious.”

You were often lucky to avoid this topic with the others. They’d just chalked it up to catching you at the wrong time, that the mission was a hard one that day and you had some pent up anger to burn. The other half, you’d be out of the compound. Taking a much needed break at your apartment, visiting your sick grandma who they suspiciously noted you saying had passed away years ago three times now. But who was counting.

Never did they realise it all happened around the same time every month.

But Wanda did. She noticed it.

You brave to stare into those eyes you were content to drown in but find something else. It’s mysterious. Not what you’d expect to see in her eyes when she looked at you of all people.

“Y/N, Fetch!” Wanda cooed as she tossed the ball away from her. It’s a primal instinct that ignited within you at that very moment. A natural, engrained sense and desire.

How Mother Nature intended for you to react to survive or to have fun, your skin tingled with the sensation all too familiar.

The shift is over within the blink of an eye, seamless as you launch yourself over Wanda’s sitting body after the ball, large paw-like hands scrapped across the floors as you skid to a halt and the ball captured within the grasp of your maw.

Your tail wags involuntarily and your ears pinned against your head as you bashfully ducked your head at the sound of the others who chuckled and praised your reflexes.

It felt nice. Wanda turned in her spot on the couch to peer over at where you’d jumped over her, chin tucked into her folded arms.

“Nice catch,” she giggled and you swore she could see your blush in this form, “bring it here.”

Hesitant, you take a step forward and then another, your eyes cautious as they wandered over the others in case they deemed your advancements were dangerous to be left unchecked.

Rarely did you allow this form to take around them without the proper surveillance equipment and safety precautions. They already had Bruce to worry about losing control as the Hulk. They couldn’t risk you as well.

But no. They marvelled in their stares, smiles of contentment encouraged you to approach Wanda. You let the ball fall into her grasp with a small whine, ears still pressed back.

“Don’t be shy, Wolfie,” she whispered, the sound soft for only your ears to hear. You liked that nickname. You could only hope she would continue to use it.

Wanda raised the ball again only for Tony to interject. “No! No, you are not playing fetch in this compound, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda smirked at the look in your eyes. The same one you had right before you tore up all the good, expensive furniture within that 3 hour window.

A few more throws turned into furniture shoved aside to make room. Tony remained in the kitchen, arms folded and a scowl etched hard into his face, it would take a miracle for Pepper to wipe it from his face.

Everyone else was too engrossed in the game of indoor fetch, all having had a couple of turns by now with throwing the ball. Bucky humoured you once and threw it, an approving nod when you caught it. Clint, Thor, Peter and Scott fought hard to get the ball numerous times, Natasha and Wanda were promoted to ‘ball-directors’ so everyone had a fair go.

But Wanda maybe got an extra throw in once or twice - by order of Natasha.

Steve now held the eye catching sphere in his hand, high above his head. Though with your stature in this form, it was rather tricky to keep it away from your snapping jaws.

You yipped and howled in anticipation before Steve tossed the ball and you leapt after it. You caught it before it could bounce off the wall. An eruption of claps and cheers followed immediately, your ears flopped back as you whine softly with that feeling that buzzed in your ribcage.

“Bring it here, Wolfie.” Your ears perked up high and alert at the soft tune of Wanda’s accented voice. A few of the others couldn’t refrain from laughing a little at the sight.

Whenever they had permitted you to shift on mission skirmishes, it was all done through protocol and extensive preparation to ensure you were stable.

And they only saw one emotion when you changed. Aggression.

To finally get the chance to play and be comfortable in your own fur felt good. Shit, well beyond good.

“I was promised the next throw! Come on, give the ball here, Y/N,” Sam called with an outstretched hand.

Even if Sam had a point, you couldn’t stop yourself in your approach towards Wanda, who now was crouched down with her hand out to receive the ball.

Her eyes were soft in their gaze as they pierced through the veil of your own. It was like she could see the humanity deep within you.

Her magic touched you differently, prickled against the shell of your mind, you welcomed her in.

‘I see you as more than you realise.’

A whimper crept up your throat in response, ears tucked back and eyes often shrouded with the thirst for carnage grew to relax. Become tender in the embrace of her eyes - her soul - touching yours.

Your fur bristled suddenly and you shook your head with a huff. You dropped the ball into her hand and she threw it down the long hallway.

You bound after it, your claws clinked against the tile floor, your breath hot in ragged pants as you gave chase. Each bounce of the ball echoed faintly in the back of your mind, too occupied by the words Wanda spoke through your mind.

It was the first time you’d heard her voice in your head. And you enjoyed it. It settled you into a sense of calm.

You didn’t register the elevator doors open ahead of you, Nick Fury stood with files tucked under his arm.

Your eyes shot open and you swore you saw his unpatched eye mimic yours. Your weight was too much to control with the momentum you had backed up behind your pursuit in a cramped hallway. You skid to a halt but slipped forward, the force of your body knocked Fury and yourself back into the elevator.

A series of cringed groans and gasps reminded you of your teammates as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You’d knocked Fury into the buttons and now, your destination was another floor.

Sheepishly, he could tell, you whine a pathetic sound in your apologies. You shuffle in the elevator that was almost too tight for the two of you to fit with you like this.

“So,” Fury said after a few moments of silence, eye intently watchful of the floors you both now visited. Some had agents give pause and a receptionist even dropped her cup of steaming coffee at the sight of you.

“What brought the wolf out?”

He turned his head slightly when you grunted, ball held up in your mouth to show him what had ensued before his arrival.

It felt like hours that the rest of the team stood in their places, eyes stuck on the elevator door you and Fury both disappeared into.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” Wanda asked, voice coated in a toxic amount of unease.

She was scared what would happen to you. As a matter of fact; everyone was scared.

The government knew just enough and that was a hard - yet private - case that was not disclosed with the public.

Your existence and your species as a whole had to remain top secret. One slip up that was determined out of hand would grant you a one way ticket to who knows what for punishment.

“It’s okay, Wanda,” Clint assured, “I doubt Fury would do anything like that. I mean, he brought them to us.”

“He’s right. No way would Fury do something like that,” Steve added, firm in his judgement or perhaps what he hoped for.

“We will… figure it out if it comes to that,” Tony sighed from his place. Not often did Tony jump to your defence in cases such as this.

But in the end, you’d proven yourself mostly to be trustworthy.

He had some inkling of reason to believe you wouldn’t cause intentional harm to the team.

The elevator pinged and everyone held their breath as the doors slid open.

Fury and you stood side by side, gazes directed down the hallway towards your team. Your eyes immediately sought out Wanda who gave you a smile but her brows were furrowed.

Fury held up the ball as he strutted forward, like an obedient pup, you followed close to his heel.

“Next time, take the game of fetch outside,” he advised and threw the ball forward and Tony caught it swiftly.

Another good throw. Really bad timing.

You were still hyped up and because of that, you charged forward and closed the distance within a matter of milliseconds.

“Wait no—!” Tony grunted as he was pinned to the floor beneath your weight. “Get. Off!” He growled and you slinked away from him with your tail tucked.

The others did little to hide their laughs at Tony’s unfortunate expense.

“Good job,” you caught Bucky mutter to you as you joined Wanda’s side. You chuffed rather proudly and your head held high.

Steve aided Tony from the floor. “Alright, Fury. We’ll note that down.” Steve flashed a toothy smile and wink your way.

“I have a mission briefing. Ya’ll better buckle up and dress for the cold. You’re going on an undercover operation located in Alaska.”

“Alaska?” Wanda asked in sync with your curious head tilt, ears flopped to the side.

“Alaska. And you also have a guide present right now who is familiar with the territory.”

It didn’t take a second long for your team and yourself to gather what Fury meant, his single eye on you knowingly.

Fury left some time later after he handed the files over that provided more information on your new task in Alaska.

Wanda turned and knelt down in front of you, a hand ran through the thicket of your fur. The act itself made your eyes droop and your chest rumble. Wanda couldn’t keep the full, toothy smile to spread on her lips.

“I think this gives us all the perfect opportunity to play more fetch with our beloved wolf.” Wanda’s words didn’t go unnoticed by the numerous hums of agreement. Truly you felt seen by them all. For the first time perhaps ever, you felt accepted.

You even looked to Tony who shrugged with an eye roll. “I suppose I could indulge in a couple throws myself. So long as I can test my new theory of what travels faster: the wolf or the red ball?”

“Wolfie,” your team chimed in claim of their theory right there.

Your pack that Mother Nature intended for you.

Thank you for Reading!

(◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

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There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.  

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

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[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

[anima-writer]

heyyyyyy, can you do a headcanons with pomni, caine and gangle with a artist reader

also, have a good day my folk

:)

Pomni, Gangle & Caine w/ an Artist!Reader

Summary: The title

Warning[s]: NONE!! ALL FLUFF AND FRIENDLY!!!! I'M SORRY I DIDN'T SAW THIS ONE I'M SORRY

Pairing[s]: Pomni x Reader, Gangle x Reader, Caine x Reader; all platonic.

Word Count: 1.591

A/N: HHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIII, THANKS SO MUCH FOR REQUETING!! YOU ARE THE FIRST PERSON TO REQUEST TADC HIHIHI

POMNI-

With an artistic reader like you, Pomni wouldn't make it at first glance. She would still be worried about looking for a way out of that place, so her attitude would be understanding; We should also highlight that she hasn't gotten along so well with anyone yet. Little by little time passes, and even though Pomni is still looking for a way out, she begins to have to socialize more with the rest of the characters to maintain what little sanity she still has left. And one of the other people she socialized with the most if we remove Ragatha, was you.

Time flew by and fled and without noticing, Pomni ended up making a friend during her journey through the place. With your friendship growing, it would be obvious for Pomni to notice your hobbies. Art.

Observing you, you usually draw/scribble some drawings in your free time; free time where Caine wouldn't be around to introduce them to a new adventure that would result in more mental discomfort. Seeing you just in your square without thinking about anything other than finishing your drawing makes herself stop for a minute from her own turmoil to analyze you while drawing. She's sitting next to you just watching, not in a scary way, just a Pomni tired of discord and wanting to do nothing but nothing.

You and your drawings are a good escape from reality when it comes to this subject. But even though she wasn't a total stranger, as her expression of tiredness at your side would be surprising, she gathered her strength to give you small compliments about your work:

"Humm, your art is cool..? No- hum is great! Yeah! So great that I can eat it!.......forget it please."

She's not good at giving compliments. But try. Believe.

One more idea I would like to share about a Pomni with an artist reader would be that she wouldn't mind you using her as paper. I mean, she would care, but wouldn't notice you using her as a paper. Come on, we have a Pomni babbling about her worries and conspiracies about this place with you by her side and we have you, bored because you forgot your sketchpad and just brought your pen.

With boredom slowly consuming you, you make some doodles on your palm only for it to become boring as well. However, the moment Pomni throws her arm towards you, you have a mischievous idea to start doodling on her arm. You start to make simple, small symbols so that Pomni doesn't catch you by surprise, but she ends up catching you by surprise… by not noticing anything.

Just disappointed, you just continue to scribble on her arm until it is completely filled with your drawings; when finished, she still hadn't noticed it.

Later, she only noticed her arm completely covered in scribble by someone else pointing it out. She would be totally tormented that she didn't remember you doing that. It seems like she was too busy talking.

In the end, she would think it was cool that you were an artist and would think it was fun…a little.

GANGLE— 

What a coincidence we have here, it seems like you ended up finding a drawing companion in this place. Gangle even enjoys the same interests as you, drawings! But, specifically, she likes to draw in a more anime-style way.

Like the others, she just watched you doodling, but tried to be as discreet as possible so you wouldn't think of her as a stranger. However, after you got to know each other better and started to socialize more over time, she had the courage to bring up her hobbies during one of her conversations, after a lot of courage required of herself.

For Gangle to be able to show you her work, it will take a lot of time because she is not used to exposing her interests. But after losing his fear, Gangle finally manages to show him his art and after that the two of you are talking for hours! And Gangle would be the one communicating the most.

Your conversations can be anything but make sure Gangle is the one directing the conversation. She's just happy to find someone who doesn't make her feel pressured.

“Hey, remember when you were asking about my drawings? So, um, I kinda drew you. Hope you don’t mind the art style...” –And soon the little masked woman in front of you would be handing you a piece of paper with a drawing for you.

I believe that Gangle would love to do some drawing challenges with you, and several of them would be: Drawing a character that was requested by another, drawing while running against time, drawing and having to swap each other drawings and continue, testing new drawing styles (In this specific case, I believe that Gangle wouldn't be able to escape her anime style; even if she wanted to). and etc…

Arriving next to you, you, once again, notice a masquerade made of ribbons coming towards you:

“[YOU]! Look! I did the art challenge that you made up for me! What do you think?”

One last thing I want to point out would be about compliments. Unlike Pomni who, at least, tries to praise; Gangle can't do it. She may be thinking of thirty-five different types of languages just to mention how amazing your drawing is, but when she opens her mouth, all that comes out is one: “Oh, cool.” 

During the night, Gangle squirms, cries, and starts having a meltdown in her bed all because she feels guilty for not saying what she really wanted to say. Please don't blame her, she really likes your art, she just can't express herself properly...

CAINE—

Unlike the others I wrote, he would be the only one who would notice your artistic side at first, however, he wouldn't point it out. Just make a mental note of this fact without you realizing it. However, he loves recognizing artists so if he saw you doing any kind of project, he wouldn't hesitate to praise you; Even though that moment isn’t one of the best…

“Wow, my dear!—” —Caine exaggeratedly expressed himself through the air– “—I can say for sure your work is fabulous!... But you should keep your eyes on the bull.”

And before you can even ask him what he was talking about, you're hit by a bull in a fancy beach hat.

Even though these small interactions are not always cool, given that Caine appearing right in front of you never means anything good, he has a genuine feeling for your art.

He likes to see you drawing at the same time he tries to do his speech, but doing two things at the same time can be a challenge. So, if you are just doodling in your notepad and don't listen to his voice, it’s because Caine is right behind you watching you draw. No one catches Flying Tooth's attention, because the longer you keep him busy, the longer everyone in that circus doesn't have an adventure; in which they are too tired to sustain mentally.

Bringing the theme of adventure to the surface, there are times when Caine asks you, in private, for your permission to use one of your arts for future adventures. It's not that he has few ideas for his adventures; His process of creating adventures would be in daydream, so imagine while he produced his work mentally, your work ends up infiltrating his mind, but unintentionally, the idea ends up becoming better than he imagined. And that's how we get our host's first sentence asking for permission. But don't worry, only if you want to of course...only if you want to be dropped in the void if you don’t allow it.

Just kidding, Caine would understand and move on.

With Caine being an art connoisseur, he has to prove it, and there's nothing better than showing it off to everyone. Caine, for sure, would be those types of parents who, if their child showed a common project for a child, they would display it as a trophy, that is, if you do something, be sure that if Mr. Tooth likes it, he will show it to everyone. . Whether you want it or not.

“Oh gosh, little star! I… I LOVED IT!”

About to respond, Caine continues his speech, taking your work from your hands: “LOOK EVERYONE!—” –Caine called the attention of the circus cast— “[YOU] MADE THIS!” —Caine floats above everyone with your project still in hand, not wanting anyone to miss it.

“Caine, you really don’t need to do it.” —You announce watching him while it flies moving from one place to another.

“Yeah. Those drawings aren’t gold, you know?” —Jax said, standing right next to you. Hearing this, Caine turned his “head” as quickly as possible towards the rabbit and then snapped his fingers, making him instantly disappear from your side. After this event, the silence soon prolonged until Ragatha broke it:“...Wow [YOU]! I love the way you used those colors in your art. It seems you took a long time to choose them.”

“Yeah! But I liked the lineart for sure!” –Continues Kinger

Some followed Ragatha's example just so they wouldn't end up with the same fate as their purple companion. Others, such as: Kinger and Zooble, didn't get the message or just didn't care that much about speaking verbally.

Caine really likes that one of his characters is an artist for sure.